#but they might also have to shut down temporarily to get everything sorted but the thing is since this new guy took over only about | 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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in-tua-deep · 3 years ago

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Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

#HUH?#survivors au #well adjusted five au #long post #far tua long #five recruits rick to be team dad #rick is DEEPLY confused #but he's the kind of person that rolls with it #dolores probably ends up tagging along as well on at least one occasion #dolores and patch bond #five pretends that dolores is a new sibling and not his dolores #five calls rick 'dad' and it messes with everyone else #patch is on team fuck-the-apocalypse(-and-reginald)#vanya is never alone so fuck leonard #five finds out that vanya causes the apocalypse and is like #vanya: HUH?#luther: maybe we should lock vanya up -#rick: are there are any other possible actions that might be more appropriate in this situation?#vanya: i could try get more meds to take and we could address the powers thing after april 1st #vanya immediately gets validated that reginald sucks #even luther who has had multiple conversations with rick is like 'dad... didn't always make the best choices...'#everyone: :0 #hazel doesn't kill patch so he probably joins team anti-apocalypse at some point #hazel: why are you a child #five: oh you know i'm young at heart and all that #OH forgot to mention one of the main differences in this au is that five like properly grew up this time #so while he is inconvenienced by his body he's not so deeply uncomfortable or angry about it #just resigned #'this might as well happen' - five #five probably makes jokes about it as well

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kristikinzel12 · 2 years ago

Text

Twtzer- The Next Big Thing After Twitter Acquisition

Back in January 2022, the business magnate Elon Musk started to purchase shares of Twitter [an American social media company] and in April, he likely became the company’s largest shareholder capturing a 9.1 percent ownership stake.

So, Elon Musk began the process of acquisition of Twitter in the mid of April 14, 2022, and now ceased on October 27, 2022.

Musk beforehand mentioned his plan to introduce exciting embraced features to the platform, making the algorithm open-sourced, counter spambot accounts, and fostering free speech. On October 27 Musk took over the microblogging site and finally became the new owner and CEO of Twitter.

Meanwhile, Musk laid off several top executives, including ex-CEO Parag Agrawal, ex-finance chief Ned Segal, and ex-legal affairs & policy chief Vijaya Gadde. Since then he is proposing many reforms to Twitter like the formation of a “content moderation council” that will tackle free speech.

The buyout acceptance shows a mixed outcome- where some praise his proposed reforms and vision for the future growth of the company, on the other hand; many criticize Musk over fears that might show a potential boost in misinformation, deceit, hypocrisy, and hate speech on the platform.

On the action and decision of Musk, conservatives, libertarians, right-wingers, and republicans are highly complimenting the purchase, whereas liberals, progressives, left-wingers, and democrats, along with previous and present employees of Twitter are raising concerns about Musk’s intentions

The Massive Drop

According to Elon Musk, Twitter has encountered a “massive drop in revenue” due to the back-off and pause of advertising by major advertisers on the social media platform. He blamed “activist groups pressuring advertisers” in the tweet stating that Twitter hasn’t altered its content moderation strategy. He also said that the company has over and done with “everything we could to appease the activists.”

Recently, several companies declared that they would temporarily pause providing advertisement expenditure on Twitter to examine how things might transform under Musk’s ownership. The companies that halted the support are Tesla competitors General Motors and Audi, Food titan General Mills. This expression was seen after Musk accomplished his $44 billion acquisition on October 28. Moreover, Advertisement giant IPG urged clients to temporarily cease their Twitter media plans to check the results.

Elon Musk has said to start the mass layoffs on Friday, abruptly eliminating the workforce of Twitter’s social media platform. The company declared this info through an email to staff on Thursday saying “In an effort to take Twitter on a healthy path, we need to go through the difficult process of taking the edge off our global workforce on Friday.”

The email sent by Twitter also mentioned that its offices will be temporarily shut down and all badge access will get suspended to ensure the protection of each employee, Twitter systems, and customer data as well. Recently, Musk also mocked an American politician with a humorous comment that escalated the news further.

With the chaos going on with Twitter- one of the renowned social media platforms, the hype follows another decentralized social media network with positive influence. While reading through tweets and humorous posts about Elon Musk and his mocking statements; Twtzer seems to stand out of the crowd. This is a DeSo blockchain trying to endure a major positive force for wide adoption. This platform has already participated in the competition and is destined to propose innovation back to the internet

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#Twtzer #Blockchain #cryptocurrencies #twtz #revenue

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graysonnotwayne · 3 years ago

Photo

CHAR BIO; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Richard John Grayson, aka Nightwing. FACECLAIM: Jesus Castro AFFILIATIONS: The Titans, The Justice League AGE (physical age as well, if different): 30 SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC?: Secret IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?: I don't think so, he'd be too busy with his duties in the mousehole. DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES?: Yes, and I'd like him to be a pilot if that's all right.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

1.) Trustworthy - Dick is consistent, reliable, and he can always be counted on to come running if his help is needed. He has a firm and unwavering sense of morality that keeps him grounded and confident in his abilities. 2.) Intelligent - Even though people look at him and assume he's just a pretty boy, he has genius-level intellect and is very good at deducing patterns and drawing connections. 3.) Adaptability - He prefers to have a plan going in, but he knows nothing goes according to plan. Dick is always prepared with multiple alternate routes and fail safes, should something go wrong, but he was also trained by Batman.

1.) Perfectionist - Dick can be extremely hard on himself and others. If he sees any room for error or makes a mistake, especially when there are lives on the line, he can be harsh with others and where they're lacking. 2.) Overextends himself - Although he has plenty of siblings to share the weight, Dick tends to think he can and should take on everything himself. He has a difficult time saying no when someone needs help, no matter who it is, and can run himself down to the bone trying to do everything for everyone. 3.) Private - While this isn't inherently a negative trait, Dick can take his need for privacy too far. He can and will keep secrets from his team if he thinks it's the right thing to do, or might protect them from getting hurt. He has the tendency to make independent decisions regardless of whether or not he's running a group. He sees it as his responsibility to make the hard calls, even if it means shutting down any possibility for collaboration.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Acrobatics, computer hacking, disguise, escapology, firearms, genius level intellect, forensic science, criminology, indomitable will, investigation, aikido, most forms of dance, boxing, capoeira, eskrima, hapkido, jeet kune do, judo jujitsu, karate, ninjitsu, sambo, savate, taekwondo, kung fu, multilingualism (English, Romani, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Japanese, Russian, Polish, Czech, Slovak, Sorbian, Ukrainian, Bulgarian, Croatian, Greek, Latin, Swedish, Dutch, Farsi, Swahili, Mandarin, Kikuyu, Cantonese, Arabic, and ASL), peak human strength, peak human agility, peak human speed, peak human reflexes, peak human stamina, peak human endurance, peak human senses, stealth, swordsmanship, tracking, and weaponry.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?: After Dick temporarily lost his memory, he was estranged from the rest of his family for some time. If it's okay with everyone, I'd like to pick up once his memory's returned and he's himself again. Once he's settled things in Bludhaven, he would go to Sokovia because that's where his family is.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?: No. Dick is not the sort of person who would bow to outside pressure. He knows what he is doing is right, so he wouldn't bend even if someone else told him otherwise. He has a strong sense of obligation and duty to continue.

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS: Dick has a lot of connections, but I'm most excited to plot with the bat-family! Apart from that, I want him to reconnect with his Titans team.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: I would really like to flesh out and develop the relationships he has with each of his family members. I really like the dynamic between him and Bruce. I hated the whole Ric storyline and really want to re-establish his connection to the family.

CHARACTER BIO —

Bludhaven belonged to Nightwing. Leaving Robin behind had been one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, but it also meant starting anew. He settled on Bludhaven because it was close and desperately needed his help. The crime rate was worse than Gotham's a good day--Gotham's evil stepsister, that's what he'd told Cass, and he hadn't been exaggerating. Even though Gotham was just over the bridge, having his own identity and his own city granted him independence he'd never experienced before. Now that he was leading his own team and carving out a real place for himself, he no longer felt as if he were in Batman's shadow.

KGBeast's failed assassination changed everything. Once Dick regained consciousness, he had no idea who he was and didn't recognize his own family. Overwhelmed by the information he was given, he withdrew from all of it and vehemently opposed having anything to do with Nightwing or with the Wayne family. He found menial jobs to get by: taxi driver, bartender, waiter, and avoided anyone that had to do with his past. With Dick Grayson. That wasn't him anymore. He didn't want to get involved, especially as the world around him descended to chaos.

#charbio

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

prompt: after their father died, the Nie bros were raised by Wen Ruohan, and are forced to survive in the backstabbing tangle of Nightless City politics.

Congratulations! You have also won the “I didn’t mean to write this much” fic prompt lottery, to the tune (again) of about 30k. I hope you enjoy!

Note: any fic warnings will be only on Ao3

Fire and Light (ao3) - part 1

“It’ll be all right,” Nie Mingjue murmured to Nie Huaisang, who was curled in his arms, shaking and terrified. The carriage rumbled and lurched around them, traveling down the long path to the Nightless City, where they would now be staying. “It’ll be all right. We’ll manage, somehow.”

He didn’t believe a word he said, of course. How could everything be all right?

Their father was dead. Murdered – it was rather unquestionable at this point. Wen Ruohan had broken his saber from a distance, driving him mad, and Nie Mingjue had known it was Wen Ruohan, but no one had believed him. No one had wanted to help, to intervene, to take action. Even at home, they’d just started resigning themselves to having to take care of Lao Nie as he died by inches when the murderer himself had shown up at the Unclean Realm to ‘help’ them in their moment of need.

Even half-mad, their father had tried to fight back.

Wen Ruohan had put him down like a rabid dog, wringing his neck and tossing him aside.

He’d then announced that Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, now orphans, would be brought back to the Nightless City and taken into the Wen sect to be his wards, to be appropriately reeducated and brought up well. Brought up properly.

And as for the rest of the Nie sect –

At least they survived, Nie Mingjue reminded himself. Even if they have to work for the Wen sect, even if the sun banner flies in the Unclean Realm…at least they’re not dead.

At least Huaisang is with me.

He didn’t know what to expect when they arrived. He didn’t think it would be anything good.

Their rooms in the Nightless City were large, but cold.

They were wards of the great Sect Leader Wen, they were told when they arrived. That meant that they would be treated with respect, as if they were truly young masters of the Wen sect. They would get the best tutors, the best clothing, the best food and drink…they would be masters of the world, if only they bowed their heads and were obedient.

(If they were not obedient, they would be punished. The exact nature of that punishment remained – unspecified.)

“Are they going to hurt us?” Nie Huaisang whispered late at night, curled up in Nie Mingjue’s bed. He’d been hiding in his own, shaking and terrified, until Nie Mingjue had crept out to check on him, daring the unspecified punishment if it meant confirming his brother was all right. Obviously Nie Mingjue couldn’t leave him like that, so he’d brought him back. “Are they going to do to us what they did to a-Die?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, with moderate confidence. “They’re not. They’ve put in too much effort, made this all too public, to kill us now. Though I’m not ruling out the possibility that they might freeze us to death by accident. How is it so cold here? It’s south of Qinghe! The climate should be more temperate, not less! And have they never heard of tapestries?”

“Da-ge…”

“Don’t think I don’t feel those ice-blocks you call feet at my waist!”

Nie Huaisang giggled, as Nie Mingjue had intended. “You’re being silly, da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue pretended to huff angrily, tossing his head like a bull, and it made Nie Huaisang giggle again, the way it always had. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll keep you warm, I guess. It’s my duty as your da-ge, isn’t it?”

“What’s my duty?” Nie Huaisang wanted to know.

“To be my spoiled brat of a didi, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, the way he always did, but this time Nie Huaisang shook his head in denial.

“Now that we’re here,” he clarified, looking at Nie Mingjue with wide, trusting eyes. “What do you need me to do?”

Nie Mingjue knew, as Nie Huaisang did not, why their lives had been spared: it all lay in that word, reeducated. They would be indoctrinated into Wen sect beliefs, Wen sect customs, and by the time they were sent back to rule Qinghe as Wen Ruohan’s puppets, they would be more Wen than Nie. Even for him, it would be difficult to resist; for someone as young as Nie Huaisang, with his childish memories already slipping through his fingers like sand, it would be virtually impossible.

Asking him to resist would serve no purpose but to torment him when he inevitably failed.

“Be happy, didi,” he finally said, and pressed his lips to Nie Huaisang’s forehead. “Be happy as you can, as you always have. Don’t let them take away your smile.”

The next day, they were introduced to Wen Xu and Wen Chao, the actual young masters of Qishan, sons of Wen Ruohan. Wen Xu was a handful of years older than Nie Mingjue, eighteen to his nearly-fifteen, while Wen Chao was less than two years older than Nie Huaisang. Neither of them seemed happy to see them, scowls fixed firmly on their faces, sneers of disdain twisting their lips.

“Do you train the saber?” Wen Xu asked Nie Mingjue, who raised an eyebrow of ‘what do you think I train’ in return. “A boorish weapon, but then I suppose your ancestors were butchers.”

“I look forward to taking classes with you,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking to himself that one didn’t have to be especially clever to know the history the Nie sect proudly proclaimed at every turn. “They’re clearly very enriching.”

Wen Xu blinked at him and then turned his face away, his lips pressed together – whether in annoyance or, possibly, a sense of humor very deeply buried, it was difficult to tell.

“Father has expectations of you,” he finally said instead of responding to Nie Mingjue’s jibe, and there was no humor in his face now. “You’ll meet them, of course.”

Unspoken was that they couldn’t afford not to. Either of them.

Nie Mingjue lowered his head. His entire sect – all his cousins, aunts, uncles, whether surnamed Nie or not – were back in Qinghe, closely watched by Wen sect commanders. There was a sword to their throat, and therefore also to his.

He, too, could not afford to disappoint Wen Ruohan.

Wen Xu’s shoulders relaxed a little when he saw Nie Mingjue’s submission – he had clearly been charged with their care, and had just as clearly worried about his ability to fulfill his mission should they choose to rebel – and he nodded, more to himself than to them. “There’s classrooms, and training grounds,” he said. “I’ll show you where they are, as well as the dining room – there are set times for meals, and attendance is mandatory – and of course the necessaries. You don’t need more than that, at least to start.”

“Are there rules we should keep in mind?” Nie Mingjue asked, thinking about his brief visit to Gusu.

“Many,” Wen Xu said. His expression was stormy. “Some of them are even spoken aloud.”

“Da-ge! Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang ran up to him, lip quivering and eyes glistening wet with tears. It was a very sad, even heart-rending sight; it used to send Nie Mingjue into a frenzy to see him like that. But by now he’d learned better and he didn’t even blink, even though Wen Xu faltered, his sword twisting off in the middle of their spar as if he expected Nie Mingjue to lose focus at a key moment and injure himself. He wouldn’t, of course, and he instead used the moment to tap Wen Xu’s sword pointedly with Baxia, claiming the point. “Da-ge, I fell down again!”

“Excuse me,” Nie Mingjue said to Wen Xu, and turned to kneel before Nie Huaisang. “Did you, now?”

“Uh-huh!”

“And did you hurt yourself?”

“I did!” Nie Huaisang stuck his hand out. There was, maybe, a bruise on his wrist. If one squinted. It was probably just mud, actually. “It hurts awful, da-ge. Kiss it better?”

“That doesn’t really work,” Wen Chao scoffed, only a few steps behind Nie Huaisang.

“Shut up, it does,” Nie Huaisang shot back, temporarily forgetting that he was supposed to be pitiful, and turned back to Nie Mingjue. “Well, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue nodded solemnly. “It’s my job,” he agreed, gathering Nie Huaisang up into his arms and pressing his lips to the ‘wound’, using the motion to infuse a little bit of spiritual energy as well. Not enough to actually make a difference, and certainly not enough to justify Nie Huaisang promptly declaring himself all better, but he liked to do it anyway – a little connection between them.

Wen Chao looked at them both in suspicion, his brow wrinkling. “That doesn’t really work,” he said again, but his voice was weaker this time, more questioning.

“It does too work,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Maybe if you’re really nice, I’ll let da-ge fix you up too next time you fall down.”

“I’m not going to fall down! I’m not a baby like you!”

“Everyone falls down sometimes. There’s nothing shameful about it,” Nie Mingjue said, and pointed to a bruise on his own face. “I myself fell down just a little while ago. Your brother helped. Several times.”

Wen Chao gaped at him, even as Nie Huaisang giggled.

“And Huaisang? You’re already very good at being a big baby and we all know it. You can stop practicing your skills at any time.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him, still laughing.

Nie Mingjue ruffled his hair and sent them both away, Nie Huaisang in the lead and Wen Chao following after, the latter shooting strange looks back at Nie Mingjue over his shoulder.

“You’re too soft on him,” Wen Xu said from behind him, even as Nie Mingjue rose to his feet. “He won’t thank you for it, later.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. “Later is later,” he said philosophically. “Now is now. Can you show me that move you did earlier, kicking out my feet? It was very well done.”

Wen Xu stared at him. “The one – where I knocked you to the ground?”

“That’s the one. Do it again, just slower; it’ll be hard for me to pick it up, otherwise.”

“You’re just asking – no, never mind. Don’t you care that I beat you with it?”

“…no?” Nie Mingjue hazarded. Was this some sort of weird Qishan Wen hang-up? “How am I supposed to learn if I don’t lose?”

“In training, like everyone else.”

“That’d only teach me how to win when everything goes right,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “I want to learn how to win even when I’m losing. Here, you show me that and I’ll show you the trick I did this morning, with the disarming.”

Wen Xu tensed up. “I don’t need your tricks.”

I don’t need your pity, he meant, and Nie Mingjue didn’t understand him at all. Wen Xu was at home, his little brother safe, his sect secure – why would Nie Mingjue pity him?

“Consider it a favor to me, then,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking back to how his uncle used to handle the especially prickly tempers in their sect, which was never short on them. “My grasp on the move isn’t that good – teaching it to someone else is the best way for me to improve my own understanding.”

Wen Xu hesitated for a while, thinking it over as if he thought there was some sort trap in the offer – what trap it might be, Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure – but then he nodded.

“All right then,” he said arrogantly. “I won’t even count it as a favor. Consider it a gift, since you’re so new here.”

They were there for about a month by the time they met some other people their age.

It was enough time to start to get used to the monotony of it all. They woke up in the morning and were free until breakfast – Nie Mingjue often got in some extra saber training, Nie Huaisang usually slept in – at which point they would meet in the cold, miserable dining hall with enough space to fit two dozen people but which only ever had the four of them, being served by voiceless servants.

They would remain there for enough time to burn a stick of incense at minimum, half a shichen at the maximum, and then they would proceed to their classes. There would be alternating classes and training, all based on some mystifying schedule that seemed to change every day but which clearly had some sort of order based on the boredom with which the Wen heirs regarded it, but always lunch and dinner in the same cold dining room, all alone, same as ever.

It was therefore a surprise when they came down for breakfast and found two other children there: a pale-faced girl about Wen Chao’s age or a little older and a skinny, shy-looking boy closer to Nie Huaisang’s. They were wearing Wen colors, but that didn’t mean anything – so were the rest of them. Neither Nie Mingjue nor Nie Huaisang had been allowed to bring any of their Nie robes to the Nightless City other than the ones they’d been wearing, and those had been splattered with blood. Nie Mingjue had carefully preserved them and still intended on finding a time to go try to see if he could salvage them in the wash, just as soon as he figured out where the laundry was.

His own new robes, in garish Wen colors that made him feel sick every time he looked down, itched and pulled on his body when he moved – they were badly sized. It seemed the seamstresses of the Nightless City hadn’t been expecting someone of his size and shape, although the array of robes he’d found in the closet made him realize, with gut-churning nausea, that he had been expected, that Wen Ruohan had prepared in advance to receive his new wards long before he had committed the act of murder to obtain them.

He hadn’t complained about the discomfort of the badly sized clothing – he hadn’t dared – but Wen Xu had been irritable about it for days now. Based on his rants, it seemed like he suspected that someone had made the robes ill-fitting on purpose to restrict Nie Mingjue’s full range of motion, a scheme designed to make Nie Mingjue humiliate Wen Xu in front of his father when the right size clothing finally did come in.

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the calculations Wen Xu made, the paranoia involved – who would do something like that? why? what would even be the point? – and he didn’t especially want to, either.

He looked at the other two children. The girl stared down at her food, not making eye contact, but the boy stole glances at him – perhaps he and Nie Huaisang were as much as of a surprise to them as they were to him.

“Good morning,” he said to them. “My brother and I are surnamed Nie. What about you?”

Wen Xu snorted loudly, rolling his eyes. “They’re Wen,” he said scathingly. “Our cousins, from one of collateral branches of the family; the ones in the mountains. Father has taken the two of them on as his wards on account of their unfortunate circumstances and promising talent.”

“Unfortunate circumstances?” Nie Huaisang wondered aloud, and Nie Mingjue sighed to himself at the sheer rudeness of the direct question. “What’s so unfortunate?”

“Our p-parents are dead,” the boy told him quietly, stuttering a little.

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang said. “Ours too.”

There was a moment of silence, the entire room disbelieving, and then Nie Mingjue started laughing.

The sound of his laughter verged on the hysterical, hurting his throat, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Not because it was funny, of course, it wasn’t funny, would never be funny, it was still raw and burning and painful. It probably would be for the rest of his undoubtedly short life. But news travelled fast in the cultivation world, and while he couldn’t say for sure, Nie Mingjue suspected he’d be hard pressed to find someone who hadn’t heard about Wen Ruohan murdering the old Nie sect leader and taking his children by now.

Judging by the horrified expressions on the Wen cousins’ faces, they definitely had, and the sheer awkwardness that paralyzed the entire room just made the entire thing pathetically – well, laughable.

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang hissed, cheeks turning red, but he was smiling a little, too, mostly out of the infectiousness of Nie Mingjue’s laughter. “Don’t embarrass me!”

Nie Mingjue leaned over and ruffled his hair. “Extra etiquette lessons for a week.”

“No!”

“Someone has to teach you to think before you speak,” Nie Mingjue said, still chuckling involuntarily with the aftereffects of his bout of inappropriate humor. “Not every thought that passes through your brain has to reach your tongue, you know. Consider holding some back. Cultivate an aura of mystery.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled and went back to picking at his food.

“Aren’t you going to punish him?” the girl asked suddenly. She was staring straight at Nie Mingjue. “You didn’t embarrass him. He embarrassed you.”

“I’m his older brother,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “If he’s not embarrassed by me and I’m not mortified by him, something’s clearly wrong –”

“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang wailed.

Nie Mingjue put some extra meat into his bowl to apologize for teasing, and Nie Huaisang subsided, making faces at him as he did.

“You’re weird,” Wen Chao announced.

Nie Mingjue didn’t think so, but all the Wens averted their eyes away from him as if they were silently agreeing, so maybe he was.

It turned out that the girl’s name was Wen Qing and the boy, her brother, was called Wen Ning.

“Don’t any of you have courtesy names?” Nie Mingjue asked, a little desperately, and it turned out that the Wen sect had the strange tradition of referring to people by their given names until they were properly acknowledged. Acknowledged as what wasn’t specified, but they all seemed to have a sense of definitiveness about it, as if expecting it to happen at some distant date.

Qinghe had the exact opposite tradition – given names were for immediate family only, sometimes a secret kept just to the parents, and everyone else went straight to using the courtesy name almost immediately after the first month ceremony.

“But you haven’t done anything by then,” Wen Ning said, worrying his lip with his teeth. Nie Huaisang had been devastated to discover that despite being small and thin as a stick, Wen Ning was exactly three weeks older than him – he’d been looking forward to calling someone didi for once, and now he was off sulking about finding himself the youngest yet again. Nie Mingjue was sure he’d get over it quickly. “Nothing impressive, nothing worthy of acclaim…what can a baby possibly do to deserve getting a name so early?”

“They were born, they are alive,” Nie Mingjue said. “What more do they need to do? Isn’t that worthy of recognition all on its own?”

He got strange looks again.

It turned out that Wen Qing was the talented one of the pair – she was training to be a doctor, and all her teachers spoke very highly of her.

“That’s wonderful,” Nie Mingjue said, and meant it. “Medical skills are a rare pearl that ought to be treasured; with the world always in need, there can never be too many doctors. I look forward to being treated by you in the future.”

Wen Qing blinked owlishly at him. It appeared that she was unaccustomed to praise.

“If you ever need someone to practice on, let me know,” he tried – he knew pretty words were far from his forte, and actions were better anyway – but that didn’t seem to help.

“I’m not good at anything,” Wen Ning volunteered, wringing his hands. “Jiejie refused to leave me at home by myself, but I’m not - good. At things.”

“Everyone is good at something,” Nie Mingjue assured him, the words coming much easier this time – he knew this particular routine well, given Nie Huaisang’s routinely poor physical performance in a sect that placed such a premium on it. “Some have strengths that are lauded by society, others merely ones that give color to it, but both are valuable and worthy of praise. You will find your talent, given time.”

Wen Ning appeared rather dazed by the concept. “But – what if I look for my talent and it turns out I really am no good at anything?”

“Then you’ll be good at being cared for,” Nie Mingjue said firmly. “Someone has to keep us older siblings in business with something to do.”

“Oh,” Wen Ning said, hugging himself until his face turned red, and then he ran away.

Nie Mingjue watched him go, feeling a little helpless. He hadn’t meant at all to be cruel, or condescending, or whatever it was that had so affected Wen Ning. Why was it, he wondered, that whenever he addressed those surnamed Wen, everything he did seemed to end up having the wrong reaction?

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wen qing #wen ning #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #this is the one that had a one-sentence summary #it was supposed to be short!#chuplayswithfire #fire and light

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nonbinary-kaz · 3 years ago

Text

Fuckt Up Lil Bros Intro:

a fic that won't get finished so I'm putting it here

When Wylan was eight, his father had finally gotten fed up with him, and had packed Wylan and his mother into a car and taken them to see a specialist. His mother had argued the whole way there, saying Wylan would learn to read when he felt like it, that the strange outbursts would end eventually. After all, Wylan was a child! Children were unpredictable, at best, she’d said. Stubborn. His father had growled something under his breath, along the lines of Wylan being less stubborn and more of a problem.

Then they had walked away from the specialist hours later, and his father berated his mother, throwing all those words she’d said back in her face. Wylan didn’t quite understand, especially not when his father had slammed the car door shut and called Wylan something that Wylan wouldn’t realise until much later was a disgusting, horrible word. His mother had already known, and she had hissed at him to not say such things.

“He’s our son,” she’d said.

“Not mine,” his father had said. “Not if he’s like this. My genes wouldn’t pass this on.”

“Jan Van Eck,” she snapped.

“Your father was always strange,” he said. “Maybe this is from him.”

“I don’t care who this came from,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. He’s still your son. None of this matters.”

“How can this not matter?” he demanded. “He can’t read, Marya. He’s socially inept, and he will evidently remain so for the rest of his life. He’s not normal. He’s not right.”

And she had murmured something lowly and dangerously, something Wylan couldn’t hear from the back. It had shut his father up, though.

Wylan was both too young to understand and too old not to understand words like “dyslexia” and “autism” and “severe anxiety” and whatnot. Looking back on it, it didn’t matter if he knew what it was or not. All that had mattered was the noticeable change in his father’s behaviour to him.

That had also been when all the therapies started. Physical, to get him over how awkward his body was. Occupational, to stop him from getting upset about “minor things.” Speech, in hopes that it would help the reading. Tutoring, because that should have helped the reading. Drugs, to stop him from being timid all of the time.

He hadn’t needed most of those; the most use they gave was to keep his father hoping that he could someday “get better” until they ultimately proved ineffective to his standards. Granted, the medications would continue to help throughout his life, just not the way Jan Van Eck had thought they would.

If Wylan had to pinpoint where his life had gone to hell, it would be that moment he stepped in the car to go to that specialist.

Though, if he had to pick a second point, it would be months later, when his mother had died. He didn’t get to go to the funeral. That was when things had gotten worse from his father, with his mother no longer around to mitigate, to stick up for Wylan. His father started hiding him then, keeping his contact with the world as minimal as possible. He had his therapies, he had his tutoring, he had whatever nannies his father hired, and he had the occasional parties he couldn’t get away from.

He hated those parties. They were loud, and everyone always bothered him, and the food was gross, and his father always yelled at him later for acting like a fool and disgracing the Van Eck name.

The third hellish point in his life, though, was the moment that “Van Eck” ceased to have meaning at the end of Wylan’s name. He could no longer disgrace the name, if the name no longer signified his ties to Jan Van Eck.

Perhaps he should have been happy. He no longer had those parties, no longer had those therapies and tutors, no longer had his raging father. He was free of it all.

But he wasn’t happy. Mostly, he was just… scared.

Wylan hadn’t even known he had second cousins twice-removed until the day he’d been disowned. Maybe that would have been obvious to most people, but his father had cut ties with most of his family. Wylan was certain the only people Jan Van Eck was legally related to anymore was Alys, his new (and insanely young) wife, and their future child (the reason Wylan was finally let loose).

After a long taxi ride, oh-so graciously paid for by his father thanks to Alys’s bleeding heart, Wylan had enough time to fully terrify himself with catastrophic thoughts of what these “cousins” would be like. Jordan Rietveld and Kasimir Brekker could possibly be worse than his father. Hell, the name of the second one sounded intimidating enough.

Wylan spent a short while wondering why they had separate names if they were full-blooded brothers. He’d asked, but at that point, his father had stopped bothering with him altogether, and had walked away halfway through Wylan’s question.

The cab driver said something, but Wylan had lost himself so deep in thought that he couldn’t catch what the man had said.

“Sorry?”

“Five minutes,” the cab driver grunted.

“Oh. Thank you.”

And Wylan sank into his seat, panic beginning to eat him alive.

Wylan had only three bags with him. Two were packed with the essentials: clothes. Just clothes. Well, and the remnants of this month’s medications. But other than that, it was his sweaters and shirts and jeans and underwear and socks and two pairs of shoes. And that was all. The other case had been filled with things Wylan had snuck with him. Paints and easels and canvases and brushes and pens and charcoals and pencils and his flute. He had no clue if his father would’ve let him take them, so he’d hid them in the suitcase and bolted before his father could inspect anything. Perhaps that had been pointless—Jan Van Eck had stopped looking at him the moment he’d announced Wylan would be disowned.

Two of those three suitcases were dropped unceremoniously on the side of the curb by the driver. Wylan had fortunately grabbed the bag filled with his supplies, so nothing broke when the bags thudded to the grass.

“Thank you,” Wylan said to the driver. “I’d tip if I could.”

The driver just shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Then he disappeared back into his cab and drove away. Wylan watched as the taxi turned the corner and disappeared, suddenly feeling his heart thud louder and faster than ever before. Everything felt both too real and too unreal at the same time.

“No panic attacks before noon,” he told himself quietly.

“Wylan?”

Wylan nearly jumped out of his skin, and his heart likewise nearly flew out of his chest. If pain was painless, that would be the feeling of his heartrate returning to the pace it had previously set before as Wylan tried to regain his breath.

He turned towards the voice, suddenly filled with so much anxiety that his stomach hurt.

Two people were just a short stretch down the sidewalk, slowly making their way over.

“Wylan Van Eck?” one of them asked, clearly the owner of the voice that had previously called for him.

“Yes,” Wylan said. He discreetly wiped his palms against his pants, trying to get the sweat off of them. “Hi. Um. Jordan and Kasimir?”

The speaker began laughing, and Wylan suddenly noticed his face. It was painted in large scars and marks, a patchwork masterpiece of pristine porcelain and burnt blemishes. They had no distinct pattern, and clearly did not hurt the man, as he smiled widely through them. Wylan did also note that the half-eyebrow missing did add a bit of intrigue to his face, but otherwise… well, Wylan averted his eyes. He found staring at people’s faces to be unbearably uncomfortable in the first place, but this just made it worse. He knew he shouldn’t look at all, really. Didn’t people always find that rude? But according to his father, Wylan not looking people in the eye was rude, too…

“It’s Kaz,” said the second person, his voice harsher than rock grating rock.

He had no scars on his face—which seemed young and fresh, making him seem hardly older than Wylan, despite the hardened lines of his permanent scowl. Either that, or he already despised Wylan. Neither seemed favourable. Perhaps his taxi-ride fears weren’t totally unfounded.

But what stood out more to Wylan was the cane he leant heavily upon.

Jesus Christ, Wylan thought to himself. No wonder Jan Van Eck had never mentioned being related to them before. If he had hated Wylan…

That was rude to think that, though. He shouldn’t think of how his father thought of things. His father’s view of the world was skewed. At best.

“If you call him Kasimir,” the first guy said, “he might kill you.”

Wylan glanced to the kid—Kaz—and then immediately dropped the gaze to the ground. The scowl had gotten deeper. Kaz did indeed look murderous.

“I’m Jordie,” said the first guy, his smile balancing Kaz’s serial killer glower. He stuck out his hand to Wylan. “Jordie Rietveld.”

“Wylan Van Eck,” Wylan said, shaking the preferred hand.

“We know,” said Kaz. He did not offer his hand for Wylan to shake. Wylan noted the dark leather gloves that covered his hands. Interesting, especially when balanced with Kaz’s otherwise dark and grim attire.

Jordie, on the other hand, wore a white t-shirt and faded jeans, looking like a completely normal person. And the lack of near loathing on his face made him preferrable to Wylan. Even if Kaz wanted to kill him, perhaps Jordie wouldn’t hate him.

Not until he learned how much of a fuck-up Wylan was, anyway.

“So, you’re our cousin,” Jordie said conversationally. His eyes searched Wylan’s face, perhaps trying to find the similarities there.

“Not that we knew it,” Kaz said, his rasping voice filled with an unamused tone. Everything about Kaz screamed “unamused,” really.

Jordie coughed loudly. Kaz glanced over to him, something temporarily erasing the annoyance on his face. But then Jordie send Kaz a meaningful look of some sort, and the look returned to Kaz.

“Sorry,” Jordie said.

“No, it’s okay,” Wylan said quickly. “I didn’t know either.”

“Hm,” Kaz said.

“Anyway,” Jordie said, raising his voice somewhat. It reminded Wylan somewhat of whenever Wylan dared speak in his father’s presence at one of those parties, when his father would speak right over him to draw attention away from Wylan. Hiding his screwed-up son. But Jordie didn’t seem… well, Wylan couldn’t say that for sure. He had just met the man. But he did seem to only be doing it for Wylan’s sake, to keep Kaz’s irritation at bay. Again, Wylan couldn’t tell for sure, though. Only time would tell, he supposed. “I suppose… welcome.”

“Thanks,” Wylan said.

“Shouldn’t ‘welcome’ wait until he has actually seen the apartment?” Kaz asked dryly.

“Right,” Jordie said, frowning and blinking. “Right, yeah, that would…”

He trailed off, staring somewhere off in the distance. Then he shook his head, looking back to Wylan.

“Would you like to come inside?” he asked.

“Sure,” Wylan said, because what the hell else was he supposed to say? Someone different could have perhaps found something far more eloquent to say, but Wylan was not someone different. He was unfortunately just Wylan.

“Great,” Jordie said, smiling once more.

He bent down and grabbed one of Wylan’s clothes bags before Wylan could take them himself. Wylan shouldered his supply bag, ready to grab the last bag, but Kaz had already taken it. Guilt rumbled through Wylan’s chest. They shouldn’t help him. They’d already burdened themselves with taking him in; they shouldn’t add more to that. But Jordie had already begun walking away, towards the apartment complex Wylan now bothered to look at. Kaz was directly behind him, limping even worse than before. Wylan’s guilt likewise compacted.

The apartment complex looked… to be fair to the place, it wasn’t the worst place Wylan had seen. He’d seen way worse on his drive over here. But it was rather bad. The white paint had lost most of its life, living a now grim existence as faded yellow ivory. The windows and their sills looked old. That was the most Wylan could say about them. And the fire escapes everywhere looked rusty and rickety. Wylan wouldn’t trust those with his life. He hoped he’d never have to.

Jordie unlocked a side door to the place, then pushed through. Kaz followed, hands too busy with bag and cane to hold it open for Wylan, who had to rush to make sure he wasn’t locked out.

Inside looked about as dreary as out—old, matted carpet covered the stairs that lead to all of the floors, and decaying plant matter and dirt tracks and bug remnants scattered across the tile landing. The popcorn walls had crumbling and faded paint, much like the outer walls.

“Oh, boy,” Jordie said up front. “Here we go.”

Then he mounted the first stair with a sigh. Wylan frowned, wondering what that was about.

He figured it out after the first flight.

“Inhaler,” Kaz said, almost bored, as Jordie wheezed and coughed, leaning against the wall.

Jordie nodded, shouldering Wylan’s bag so he could root around his pockets. He pulled out a white and blue inhaler, popping the cap off as he began to shake it.

“I can take my bag back,” Wylan said, now feeling another layer of guilt. “You don’t have to carry it.”

Holding his breath as he removed the inhaler nozzle from his lips, Jordie shook his head. Kaz just scowled over his shoulder at Wylan, his cane held horizontally in the same hand that held Wylan’s bag as the other hand clung to the railing.

All of this burden they placed on themselves, only for them to sooner or later realise that they wasted it when he showed them just how useless he was.

They had to go quite slowly after that, but they eventually made it to the correct floor. The Rietveld apartment (Wylan assumed it was under the Rietveld name, anyway; Jordie was the older of the two, and Wylan was now dead certain Kaz was near his age) was the first door off the staircase. Convenient, in a small way. Not convenient that the place had no elevators, but Wylan wasn’t about to ask why they lived here and not a more accessible place. There was a reason why people lived in a place like this: money (or the lack thereof).

“Home, sweet home,” Jordie said, unlocking the door to the apartment.

Wylan’s first thought was: It’s bare.

His second thought was: It’s small.

The living space held a crackling old leather sofa, a brown corduroy reclining chair, a coffee table scattered with dents and mail, and flatscreen TV. The TV was the only thing that looked remotely new; Wylan suspected the rest were either hand-me-downs or thrifted.

Beyond that lay a kitchen, removed from the living room by only an island bar. It had space for a refrigerator, oven and stove, sink, and a small stretch of countertop that was surrounded by cupboards and drawers. If all three of them stood in that room, Wylan figured, it would become quite crowded.

He couldn’t see the rest of the place, but a hall led away from beside the kitchen. That likely held the bedrooms and bathroom, and whatever else could possibly be in this small place.

Jordie dropped Wylan’s bag on the sofa. Kaz set the other beside it, continuing to walk until he disappeared down the hall.

“Don’t mind him,” Jordie said, not once losing his cheer. “He’s always a grump.”

“Oh,” Wylan said, unsure what else to say.

“Anyway, this is it,” Jordie said. He began gesturing around the place. “Living room, kitchen… down the hall’s going to be your bedroom on the left. Me and Kaz’ll sleep together in the other one. Bathroom is last door on the left. Um… yeah. That’s about it.” He turned to Wylan, smiling ruefully. “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s… nice,” Wylan supplied.

Jordie laughed. “You’re funny. No, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. This place is a shithole.”

Wylan wouldn’t have put it like that, but yes. He’d seen the hole in that one cupboard, the chunk missing from the faux marble island counter, the dents in the wall, the crack in that corner of the ceiling…

“It’s not so bad,” Wylan said, generously.

“It’s cheap,” Jordie said, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the ceiling. Oh. Another crack. “That’s what it is.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Jordie said, looking down at Wylan. “Want to see your new room?”

Wylan shrugged. “Sure.”

This time, he managed to grab both cases of clothes before Jordie could reach them. Wylan’s arms felt like they were being torn off, but at least Jordie wasn’t burdening himself for Wylan. Plus, the short hall was nothing like that staircase.

Jordie led him through the hall, pushing open a door with a hole in a conspicuously shoulder-height place. Wylan eyed that warily until the door had swung fully open.

If the rest of the apartment was barren and small, then this was… Wylan didn’t even know the words.

The walls were popcorn white—as with the rest of the place—but they were studded with holes of previous tenants nails and tacks. Nothing lay on the walls currently other than those holes. There was a bed pressed against the back right corner, taking up most of the space. Half of the bed rested below the window (which seemed to lead to this apartment’s fire escape). Another large portion of the space was taken up by a dresser and desk combination. A small stool went along with it, tucked beneath the desk portion. And in the far corner across from the bed, a shallow cut-out of space denoted a closet.

“Used to be my room,” Jordie said. “But I’m in with Kaz now.”

“Oh…” Was there anything that wouldn’t make Wylan feel like guilt was piled so high atop him that he might sink beneath the ground?

“I assume you don’t have a toothbrush or shampoo or anything?” Jordie asked.

“Um, no,” Wylan said.

Jordie nodded. “Thought not. Well, you can use mine for the time being. Shampoo, anyway. Please don’t use my toothbrush.” Wylan managed a feeble smile as Jordie grinned broadly at him. “Use your finger, or something.”

“I do, um…” Wylan fumbled to find the right words. “I have some medications… I don’t know where—”

“Medicine cabinet’s behind the mirror,” Jordie said quickly. “You might have to rearrange a few things to get your stuff in there, though.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“For what?” Jordie asked.

“Moving your stuff around, I guess.”

Jordie frowned strangely at him. “I toldyou to do it. You don’t have to apologise. Hell, you haven’t even done it yet.”

Wylan pulled his lips into his mouth, biting them together. Jordie studied him for a short while longer, then shook his head to himself. The easy smile returned to Jordie’s face.

“I’ll leave you to unpack, then,” Jordie said. “Oh, and we’ll get you those supplies tomorrow. Or sometime soon.”

Then he disappeared out of the room. The door creaked as it swung most of the way shut behind him. For reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, that summed up exactly how Wylan felt.

Wylan didn’t have hangers for his clothes, he discovered.

“Oh,” he said to himself. “Okay. Um.”

He refolded the sweater he had just pulled from one of the bags, then shoved it back inside. He zipped the bag back up. With any luck, the clothes wouldn’t get all wrinkled. He highly doubted that this place had an iron.

The dresser, he figured, would likely only need to house his underwear and socks. Those could all get tossed in the same drawer. Thus, he could appoint all the other drawers for his art supplies.

Organising those drawers gave him a good hour of clear headspace. He organised them one way before deciding he didn’t like that, then started over.

When he had nearly finished with the drawers, he stopped, staring at the oil paint tubes in his hand.

Why was he doing this? He had no right to. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here, for any number of reasons. This wasn’t his place. He couldn’t be a burden on two other people—people who looked like they had enough burdens of their own to bear. Yet, here he was, unloading all of the life he could carry into drawers and closets that weren’t his.

Ungracefully, he dumped the paints back in his bag, followed by all of the other supplies he had just spent forever organising. The only thing he left in the drawers was his canvases. Those shouldn’t get tossed around so much. He only had five; he had to treat them with care. He could spare exactly none of them.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud cough came from somewhere outside of the door. It hit him, moments later, that he had dimly heard coughing in the background for a few minutes now. But that particular cough was unexpected. And quite horrible.

Wylan moved to the door, cracking it open. He saw a dark head of hair outside, bent over as another cough came. Jordie’s head raised, elbow pressed against his mouth as he coughed again.

“Wy—” a cough cut him off for a moment “—lan.”

He shook his head, then dropped his elbow to reach into his pocket and grabbed his inhaler. Wylan looked away as he primed and then used the inhaler. It was awkward, watching him… well. It was just an intrusion, wasn’t it? And rude. Nobody was supposed to stare at anyone different. Not Kaz’s cane and limp, not Jordie’s scars, not this.

“Sorry,” Jordie said a minute later.

Wylan heard the click of something closing, and he looked up to see Jordie capping the inhaler and ramming it in the pocket of his jeans. Jordie had an amiable smile on his face.

“Asthma,” he said, as if the coughing had been merely some bug he’d swatted away.

“I’m sorry,” Wylan said.

Jordie waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t. I get enough of that in my life.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, that’s new.” Jordie’s smile had broken wider, genuine and confused amusement splitting his face. “An apology. For an apology.”

Wylan tried another, “Sorry?”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t had an actual apology in this house in…” He trailed off with another disregarding wave, but Wylan got the point. Kaz didn’t seem to be the relenting and apologetic type. “Anyway. I came to ask…”

Wylan watched him, waiting for the question. Jordie simply frowned. He looked over to the wall for a second.

“What was I going to ask?” he murmured to himself. “Shit.”

Unsure of this new situation, Wylan felt his fingers fumble for the fabric of his shirt’s hem. Jordie kept frowning at the wall, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he concentrated.

“Jordie?” Wylan asked after what seemed like too long.

Jordie’s head snapped back to Wylan, frown deeper for a split second. Then it erased, reverting to an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I can’t remember what I was going to ask.”

Wylan knew that feeling all too well, but something about the way Jordie had zoned out bothered him.

Suddenly, Jordie snapped loudly, his index finger pointing to Wylan. Startled, Wylan drew back somewhat.

“Dinner,” Jordie said, amusement lighting his face once more. “Dinner. I was going to ask about dinner.”

Still uncertain, Wylan merely stared at Jordie.

“What do you like to eat?” Jordie asked. Before Wylan could even begin to think how to answer that, Jordie said, “We don’t do fancy rich people stuff, though. We’re cheap.”

“Oh. I didn’t… I mean, I’m not… you don’t have to worry about that,” Wylan said, words stumbling ungracefully. “You can just… make whatever you want, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ve heard that before, and that never goes over well,” Jordie said. “Nina’s the only person that has ever worked for.”

Wylan did not know who Nina was, but he still felt guilt gnawing at him. He really did not want to make Jordie change whatever meal he had planned.

“Seriously, it’s okay,” Jordie said. “Just tell me so that you don’t starve and then I don’t have the police investigating me.”

Wylan blinked.

“That was a joke,” Jordie said. He waited a second longer, expecting Wylan’s laughter. Wylan managed a grimaced smile. “Okay. No jokes. Um. Fine. Look. This is what we eat on a regular basis. Chinese takeout. Pizza. Uh. Boxed noodles. Frozen vegetables. Any easily-heated meal. Any of that repulsive to you?”

Truth be told, Wylan wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never had boxed noodles before. Or easily-heated meals. He knew he didn’t like most vegetables—they all reeked or had unpleasant textures (broccoli being the worst offender of all)—but maybe frozen made them different?

“No,” Wylan said. Even he could tell he sounded unconvincing.

“Fine,” Jordie said. “We’ll start with pizza. Nobody hates pizza.” He turned and walked away then, grumbling under his breath, “Not even Kaz.”

Wylan slowly closed the door, utterly confused by that entire encounter.

(and this is all I have written lmao sorryyyyyy)

#lets hope this all fits in one post lmao #its 4k so who knows lmao #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #jordie rietveld #jan van eck #marya van eck #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #fuckt up lil bros au #if i ever write more i'll reblog but that likely wont happenlmao

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sophieinwonderland · 3 years ago

Note

Has your host ever worried you might become someone very different and detrimental to him? Like that one day you might become a "scary / evil voice" similar to what villains in fiction sometimes have? (I don't think you will, I just had that kind of thought towards my own headmate in the past and want to know if others have thought about that too at some point).

Early on, I think we both had those fears. I know who I am, but the idea of changing was scary, because I didn't know what I might become. We also didn't know if this might end up becoming harmful in other ways.

So, during those first few days, I gave him permission, if things went too far and I ended up becoming harmful, to... dissipate me...

It's hard to write that now, and I feel like that permission has since been revoked. No matter what happens, we've agreed to work it out and figure things out together. But it was a topic of discussion. (It was my idea.) Back then, I didn't have things anchoring me to the physical world. It was just me and him. I didn't have enough of a life to be concerned if I died.

That's not to say I wanted it. But I didn't want to live knowing that I was hurting him either.

But now, the thought scares me. I don't want to die, and lose everything I have here.

And like I've said before, I don't think dissipation is a completely real anymore. I think what happens is a dormancy. But going dormant until the body dies is still a death in its own way, isn't it?

In any case, I think I had a lot more reckless tendencies towards the beginning, and have grown more mature over the past months, and for the most part, I don't think either of us are scared of this anymore.

There was an incident a couple months ago that scared me, though. We were in the Wonderland, and just holding each other and staring into each other's eyes, loving each other, and feeling the love from each other. And it was just... overwhelming, like we were being consumed by this intense, pure love.

And then my love kind of crashed. I couldn't feel it anymore, and started panicking, asking myself why I loved him, and if any of it was real or if I was forced into it somehow. Like, I could come up with all the logical things that had led me to love him, but I couldn't feel it anymore.

He was surprisingly calm through the whole thing. Like, he recognized that my lack of feeling towards him wasn't real or normal, and did his best to calm me down. He ended up letting me switch in for a minute just to see what would happen, and then I felt everything again.

I was freaked out for a while afterwards, and it brought back old fears of what if I changed for reasons I couldn't quite control. It was actually Abby who mentioned the next day when I talked to her about it that maybe our feelings just overloaded the brain. Or, specifically, it overloaded the "back" systems that were running my emotions, so I just sort of needed a jumpstart.

(Our current hypothesis is the that the brain has a limited capacity for how much emotion it can run. Front systems are given priority as being necessary for running the body. So when capacity is reached, it shuts down the "back" systems temporarily, that in singlets would presumably just be used for empathy. The obvious comparison would be a breaker being blown from having too many appliances running.)

In hindsight, I know this was just another case of the brain being weird. But at the time, I was scared that it could be something permanent. Like, what if my love just completely disappeared, and I couldn't get it back, and just ended up unfeeling forever? It was scary.

[Host: Soph has changed a lot, but it's always been for the better. I can't imagine her changing into a person I don't love, or that I'm not proud of. When this started, I think I saw her more as something rather than someone. Not an object, but not a person either. More like a foreign entity. So there was a bit of othering that made me worry about her changing into something bad. But I have a hard time imagining that anymore. She's just a person to me now. A person who lives in my brain, acts as my biggest cheeleader, and needs me to hold her whenever she gets overwhelmed. She's not perfect, but I don't expect her to be, and that's part of why I see her as person.

And no, dissipation isn't an option, and never has been to me. I could never bring myself to do anything to hurt my Angel.]

#ask box #actually endogenic #endogenic #tulpa #tulpamancy #endogenic system #plural #plurality #syscourse #plural system #actually plural #system stuff #endo safe

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theunmappedstar · 4 years ago

Text

TS!Sophie Headcanons

Sophie has Tourette syndrome, meaning she makes noises and movements which she can’t control because of a neurological condition in the brain. These repetitive phrases or movements are called “tics”.

She has a variety of tics, both vocal and physical.

One of her vocal tics at a young age was "suldreen" and she could never figure out why she kept repeating it. Her parents found it odd, too, because they’d never uttered “suldreen” around her - she'd just been blabbering it since birth. Her dad calls her “Soybean” because of it (and Sophie despises that nickname).

Sophie has a few tics that are in English, from the time she spent in a human environment.

For example: Sophie has a tic that's an obscure line from Sherlock because her human mom and dad used to watch the show frequently and they loved it, so it’s emblazoned in her mind. In the first episode, Sherlock tries to convince a police officer that he's in shock because he's got a blanket, so he can't answer questions in an interrogation. So, Sophie ticcing, "I’m in shock! I’ve got a blanket!" over and over again. (She does an impersonation of his british accent and everything).

Sophie with a cursing tic, but it's in English so no one knows what she's saying and by god is she glad.

OR, alternatively, once she manifests as a polyglot, it's a curse in trollish or ogre or a different language and only one of her bodyguards gets it and they're thrown off guard by it.

She's being interrogated by the Council during a Tribunal or something of the sort, and out of nowhere she yells, "FUCK" and immediately turns red with embarrassment, but the Council is just confused as hell and tries to move forward-

Sophie develops a “no reason to worry!” tic. Alden thinks it’s precious and flattering. Sophie finds it anything but. (Especially since her brain makes it a point to impersonate his heavy accent when she does it).

After a long time with Silveny, she developed a tic where she just shouts Keefe's name. Keefe thinks it’s the greatest thing in the world, and makes it a point to respond even if he knows she’s just ticcing.

“Yes, Miss F?”

“Shut up, you know I’m not talking to you.”

Sophie getting a vocal tic of a food.. and it's super random, like, "ripplepuff". And she keeps ticcing and she doesn't know why she even developed that because ripplepuffs aren't that amazing to her - it's not like they're her favourites or anything, but her brain just decided "ooh, new tic!".

Fitz hears her repeating it and one day brings her a little tin and says he has a surprise.. and when she opens it she starts giggling and her brain takes hold and she tics again and again and they're both smiley and giggly-

She ends up ticcing so much from the excitement that she reacts with physical tics and smashes them in with her hands or chucks them across the room.

Speaking of physical tics: a common physical tic that Sophie has always had is facial grimacing. She scrunches up her entire face and her eyes close tight and her shoulders temporarily lift before she’s released and she returns to relaxed position.

Keefe (lovingly) calls it her Scrunchy Face.

(It was originally “Grumpy Face” but then Keefe realized that might not make her feel too good and he wants her to know he’s not making fun of her for doing something completely normal. He just finds it cute!)

Sophie’s most common response to stress is plucking at her eyelashes. And Sophie is stressed a lot, so she tends to repeat the action. She does it so often that one day her brain is like, "haha!! new tic!!”. Not only that, but it spreads to her eyebrows and soon she’s plucking and prodding and ugh, she’s so frustrated because her eyebrows are uneven. (She has to take elixirs to make the hair grow back faster).

When she starts wearing gloves after manifesting as an Enhancer, it’s a texture she has to get used to, so she develops a tic where she clenches her fists super hard.

That one can really hurt at times because her hand won’t unclench and her nails dig into her palm-

Sophie getting tics when she’s flustered... Yeah, she tics super hard around Keefe and Fitz. She hopes nobody notices.

Sophie has a tic that’s her scrunching up her nose and squeezing her eyes shut and making a tiny sound... honestly sounds a little bit like she’s trying to fake a sneeze. Her shoulders also shrug when she does this.

Sophie ticcing when she meets the alicorn babies for the first time because she’s so happy they’re alive and well. And wow, they’re so pretty and cute. Her tics are all coming out at once though and she’s shrugging and scrunching her face and squeezing her eyes closed and her head jolts to the side every now and then and she’s shivering and she keeps yelling different vocal tics that have nothing to do with the situation.

Sophie getting a tic that’s her making popping sounds with her mouth.

Or blowing raspberries.

Spoiler alert: this one does not come in handy when she’s using a straw. There have been quite a few times where she’s ticced and blown into the straw, so her drink violently bubbles and splashes over. (It’s easier for her to leave her cup on the table and drink through a straw, though, as opposed to picking it up and risking throwing it on the ground).

Sophie getting tics in the middle of conversation and she gets embarrassed because they keep interrupting her, which makes her reach the conclusion a bit slower. (Obviously nobody minds, however).

All this being said, tourettes is not something that’s always light and happy - it’s not constantly a cute, smiley thing where she simply makes funny sounds or funny movements. It affects her life and can make her miserable.

One of her tics is holding her breath. This makes for obvious breathing difficulties. She sucks in her breath and won’t exhale for extended periods of time and she can't do anything to make it stop, which makes her panic-y (and that doesn’t help the situation anymore). She likes someone to be there to work her through it.

Most of the time it’s Grady and Edaline, but if they’re not home and it happens, her bodyguards are always willing to help lay her down on her back and hold her hands as she goes through it. And we all know the rest of her friends are also extremely willing to help!

Just think about Fitz and Keefe on either side of her, holding her hands. Fitz is transmitting to her, assuring her she’s fine and she’ll be through it soon enough... Keefe monitoring her emotional state sending her blue breezes in hopes to help keep her calm...

Sophie getting frustrated because she gets very emotional when the adults or authoritative figures in her life won't listen to her/don't trust her and she tries to speak to them, but they keep brushing her off and she keeps ticcing as she's trying to talk because she's getting so emotional and her tics keep getting more intense and frequent and she's trying her best to keep her cool and keep pushing through and trying not to cry because she doesn't want them to see her like some kid that can't control herself (even though that's stupid because you can't control tics, but she still feels self conscious about the way she's seen).

Sophie trying to bake with her parents and accidentally getting batter everywhere because she couldn't keep from ticcing. She feels really bad because half of it is on the floor for them to clean up and they had to take some utensils out of her reach, but Edaline and Grady don't mind; they're just happy to spend time with her. (Sophie still feels bad).

Sophie getting really nervous before going to sleep because the lights are out and she generally just has a hard time sleeping and feeling safe at night so her anxiety starts to rev up which makes her tics go haywire and she's ticcing so much that it's hard to settle down so she hails Dex or transmits to Fitz-

Sophie also has a tic where she hits herself or the things around her, so she gets a lot of bruises from that. She also destroys a lot of things with it, which makes her sad.

For example: Sophie accidentally ticcing and hitting her friends and she feels so horrible and keeps apologizing because she could just hear the echo of the slap, but they hold onto her hands and promise that it's okay, they know she didn't mean to.

Sophie being told to be quiet and sit still in detention, but she can't and the mentor doesn't know and snaps at her and Keefe stands up for her like, "Dude, she can't stay quiet, let her breathe.”

It would make it so much harder to walk around if her tics got intense because she can’t control them and sometimes the movements are jarring and throw her off-balance. That’s why she’s labeled “clumsy” by most people - and she hates it.

Sophie’s PTSD, Anxiety, and Tourettes generally like to work hand in hand. Say Sophie gets very anxious and emotional at the sight, feel, or thought of fire. Since she's so emotional from the trigger, she’ll tic more, and the high-intensity moment might trigger a tic attack.

These can last from a range of minutes to hours.

Her tic attacks can not only include intense bursts of ticcing, many times without pause in between, but they can also include muscle tension and changing in breathing. Her joints usually stiffen and burn, and her breathing can either pick up speed or go drop to a slower, concerning rate. It’s a very uncomfortable place for Sophie to be stuck in.

Sophie panicking after a Neverseen encounter and she has a tic attack.

Elwin just... holds her. He tries to keep her from hitting herself too much or bringing any more bodily harm.

Sophie ticcing while she's abducted and restrained in the first book, but because she's restrained and not able to really move, it makes her joints all achy and stiff and it burns and her interrogators get more and more aggressive in their handling of her because she isn’t answering (she’s ticcing so much that it’s difficult) and she won't sit still-

Sophie trying her hardest when Mr. Forkle picks her and Dex up to not tic and hold on to Dex so that Mr. Forkle doesn't set him down.

Sophie getting a really intense tic attack when she's forced to keep that circlet on her in Everblaze. She can't stop ticcing and it's hurting her head and she's sobbing and begging for a sedative because she doesn't want to be awake.

Sophie having to be lulled into sleep by Silveny throughout most of her recovery in Flashback, because if she tics too much, she sets back all the progress she’s made on healing her arm.

(UNLOCKED SPOILERS) Amidst the struggle, however, there is triumph, too. The first time she doesn't trigger a tic attack at the feeling and sight of fire is during Unlocked when she sets the warehouse on fire. Even though everyone is harsh with her about it afterwards, Sandor makes it a point to mention to the adults that he is very proud of her, in a way, because he didn't even have to carry her out of there like he usually does when she's around fire and is triggered - she walked out of there on her own.

#i do not have personal experience with this syndrome as i do not have it so if i portrayed anything offensively please tell me!#TS!sophie #sophie foster #kotlc #kotlc headcanons #masterlist #keeper of the lost cities

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years ago

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Here For You Part 6

Fandom: Chicago PD / One Chicago

Series: Here For You

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warning/s: none

Word Count: 1,534

Summary: Y/N’s world spun out of control after she got pregnant, uprooting her life and moving to Chicago only for her brother to get involved in a murder trial. Now, her baby is finally here, and with Jay by her side her life feels like it’s finally coming together again, until someone from her past comes back into the picture and threatens to tear down everything she’s tried so hard to build.

The trial process was nervewracking, multiple interviews, assessing characters, income, stability... You were glad you had Jay to lean on when it got overwhelming, but you knew you were the best thing for Lucas, and you held onto that throughout the ordeal.

Between juggling raising your son and fighting to keep him, you made yourself think about your own future, not just in terms of Jay, but in terms of a career too. So when Lucas was big enough, you were going to start training to be a nurse. It was a time of near constant fear, but also hope; you could see your life beyond this, all you had to go was get past this colosal hurdle.

Tommy on the other hand, as you learned in court, didn’t have a job or apartment, and had bailed on two separate court-ordered rehabs, leading to hefty fines he couldn’t afford to pay. Needless to say, the trail was going in your favour.

Eventually, the judge ruled that you were to receive full custody, but adviced you let Tommy have visitation at your own discretion, and at a time when he was in a fitter state and child support was being paid regularly and in full, the issue of custody could be revisited. Tommy wasn’t happy, but it was everything you could have asked for.

You left the courtroom with your head held high that day, Henry passing you back Lucas as he and Jay led you out towards the elevators. Tommy chose that moment to approach, your smile wiped from your face in an instant.

“Y/N,” he said with force, making you stop in your tracks and turn to face him. He was angry, and while you couldn’t exactly blame him... wait, yes you could. Tommy was the one who wanted to take this to court, actually having the audacity to put you and Lucas through all that thinking he had a chance.

Jay put a protective hand on your back, positioning himself so that he was slightly shielding you and your son. “You brought this on yourself,” you told him, watching his eyes flare with rage as you continued, “if you’d have just reached out properly, we might have been able to sort something out without needing it to get this far.”

It wasn’t a lie, you would have considered it, maybe not when you were lying in a hospital bed with your new born baby obviously, and he never should have expected that, but you could have come to an arangement.

Tommy rolled his eyes and grumbled something you didn’t care to repeat, Jay tensing beside you. “Who the hell is this guy anyway, seriously?” He asked, gesturing to Jay with indignation, “this guy isn’t Lucas’ dad, I am, and what? He gets to be around my kid whenever he wants while I have to beg you for scraps?”

Lucas was starting to fuss in your arms as you took a step away from Jay towards Tommy, wanting to show him that you were fighting your own battles. Jay cast you a worried glance but he didn’t stop you. You took a breath, leveling yourself as you felt your blood boil.

“Yes,” you answered his question, much to his shock and anger, “Jay’s been there for me, for us, this whole time since we met, since you left. He’s a good man, kind and dedicated, and Lucas would be lucky to have Jay for a dad.”

You heard Jay suck in a small sharp breath, not expecting you to say that; Tommy gasped in surprise, almost looking hurt. Honestly, you were surprised you said that outloud too, but there it was. Henry was smiling in a knowing way, glad his sister was finally standing up for herself.

“You little...” Tommy hissed, taking a step forward and pointing his finger in an acusatory manner. Instinctively, you took a step back, a protective arm around Lucas as he started to cry. That was all the cue Jay needed to intervene, blocking Tommy’s path.

Security took a step forward, ready to de-escalate the situation if they needed to, but Jay had it under control, sensing the shift in Tommy’s stance and the way he clenched his fist. It was an obvious swing, one that Jay dodged with ease, a slight glint clear in his eyes, gaining all the justification he’d been waiting for as he aimed a well placed punch at Tommy’s nose, knocking him to the ground in one hit.

Tommy looked daised, steam practically coming out of his eyes as he tried to stand, clearly going for round two before he froze, staring at the badge Jay had just revealed under his shirt. Jay signaled to the guard to pick him up off the floor.

“Congratuations Tommy, you’ve just assaulted a police detective in a court house full of witnesses,” he told him, nodding towards the crowd of people who had stopped what they were doing to witness the commotion.

Any sympathy you might have had was gone as you looked him square in the eyes. “Goodbye Tommy,” you told him, turning on your heals as you soothed your crying son. You already had an actual baby to take care of, you didn’t need to pile a grown man onto that list. Somewhere down the line, you might consider letting him visit Lucas, but that wasn’t going to be anytime soon. Besides, after this there wouldn’t be a judge around who wouldn’t take your side on that matter.

As the doors shut to the elevator and Tommy was taken into custody, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, grateful when you felt Jay’s fingers slip into your own. You glanced down at his bruised knuckles and ran your thumb over them lightly, squeezing his hand in thanks as Lucas began to calm down.

It had been satisfying to watch, if you were being honest, you knew Henry agreed by the smirk that had become permanently plastered on his face. Jay definitely enjoyed it a little too much, but you didn’t blame him.

You looked around at the people in the elevator. They were your family, Lucas’ family. You didn’t need Tommy, hadn’t for a long time, maybe now he’d realise that.

“What’s going to happen to Tommy?” You inquired once you were back in the comfort of your own apartment, Lucas finally calmed down and asleep after the ordeal at court.

“I don’t know, but after that outburst he won’t be allowed near you or Lucas for a long time,” Jay informed you, temporarily putting on his serious detective voice, “I’ll make some calls tomorrow.” You knew he would, he took yours and Lucas’ safety very seriously, Tommy was probably at the 21st right now nursing his nose.

“I didn’t want this, Lucas deserves stability, a good father...” You sighed with frustration, all the emotion you’d bottled up during the day and the trail threatening to boil over. Jay grabbed your hand and you met his eyes, “I meant what I said in there, about you. I want you in his life.”

“I want to be in his life, I love him...” Jay told you honestly, taking a deep readying breath, as if preparing himself for what he was about to say, “I’m kind of in love with you too.”

“Jay-,” You breathed, shocked by his declaration.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and this is sudden, but I love you Y/N, and I want to be a part of your life, both of your lives,” he continued, taking your other hand too.

His touch was strong, warm, comforting, everything you wanted for yourself and Lucas. Jay had proven time and time again the kind of man he was, without fail, he’d been kind, patient, supportive... everything Tommy had never been, everything you didn’t think you deserved, but here he was, ready to give it all to you without hesitation.

So you told him the truth, the truth you hadn’t even realised it until this moment, buried deep down as you’d tried to navigate your new life. “I love you too,” you told him, and it was like something cracked open in your chest, and you could breath again. You’d never said those words to anyone, not romantically, but you knew it your heart that you did.

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully, not quite believing that you’d said it back so quickly, or with so much confidence. You took him in as you thought of what to say, every detail.

“Yeah I really do, I guess I’ve been trying to fight it, thinking that it might be selfish to think about a relationship right now, but the truth is you are what’s best for him, and me,” you tried your best to explain, “I love you, and although I don’t know what’s going to happen with Tommy, I know Lucas could never ask for a better father than you.”

“You mean that?”

"With my whole heart.”

And then you kissed, and it felt like a promise, a promise of ‘i love you’, a promise of a future, a promise to always been there for each other, whatever came next.

#jay halstead #chicago pd #one chicago #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead imagines #chicago pd imagines #one chicago imagine #one chicago imagines #here for you

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plasticnightmaredoll · 4 years ago

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I stumbled across an interesting article the other day that was quite eye-opening:

Now, I am aware I have issues, and those issues stem from receiving verbal and emotional abuse from one of my parents from childhood even through my college years, and a little bit past that. Nearly 2/3rds of my life, to be honest. I am still attempting to heal but it's not easy, not in the slightest.

Reading through the article reminded me of two things:

I am not alone and LOTS of people endured emotional and verbal abuse while growing up (as well as other kinds of abuse in some cases).

I can see exactly why it's such a challenge to overcome these mental and emotional scars because I have a bunch of issues.

In case you don't want to read the whole article or just want a quick reference right here without having to go back and forth, this is a sort of summary version of the list (based on my interpretations). I bolded everything that applies to me and...well, you'll see:

Blaming yourself or taking the blame for other people's actions/behaviors.

Overthinking due to immense self-doubt.

Expecting perfection from yourself and setting unrealistic goals because of it.

Believing your problems don't matter when compared to everyone else's.

Bottling up your emotions.

Afraid to try anything new out of fear of disappointing friends and family.

Anger issues as a result of anger being directed at you as a child.

Putting on a brave face and acting like you're untouchable and unbreakable to convince others and yourself (temporarily) that you have it together (which is a lie).

Flinching when people try to touch you (in a friendly manner, like a hug or pat on the back) or when someone raises their voice (kind of like a form of PTSD from your childhood abuse).

Belittling, insulting, and/or scolding yourself for being emotional.

Fear of abandonment (including fear of people dying and leaving you).

Always/often saying, "yes," to everyone out of fear of getting into trouble (fear of conflict/confrontation due to past abuse).

Relying on others to assure you whether or not you're making the right decisions.

Shutting down emotionally when anyone raises their voice to you.

Social awkwardness: being too shy and anxious or being too friendly and giddy when it comes to meeting new people.

Whenever you find yourself in an argument or even if someone just raises their voice (maybe not even at you), you immediately feel like cowering out of fear.

Talking fast and over-explaining due to being ignored, ridiculed, and/or talked over by your parents/family.

Fear of growing close to anyone (be it as a friend or as a romantic partner) due to abuse and betrayal from parents/family while growing up. So, you're often lonely but afraid to reach out to anyone out of fear of being mistreated.

Remaining quiet in conversations and/or refusing to start conversations due to being mistreated for speaking up as a child.

Fear of authority, worrying if even a simple talk with your teacher or boss may be the result of you being in some sort of trouble. So, those with "power" remind you of your abusive parents, who had power over you and abused that power regularly.

Well, 19 out of 20. That's... a lot.

It's scary to see just how much I'm dealing with (and have dealt with most of my life) mentally and emotionally all because one of the two people I expected to love me unconditionally chose to be a terrible, overbearing, short-tempered parent.

This is one of the many reasons why I think women who want to get tubal surgery should be allowed to without hitting so many roadblocks. Don't come at me with religious beliefs of physicians, or "some women regret it, so you might, too!" or "you haven't had kids so you don't know the joy!"

I. Don't. Want. Kids.

I'm selfish, ok? I like money, like my free time, like sleeping in and napping, like being able to go where I want and when I want, want to be able to travel to goddamn Japan someday without having kids dragging me down the whole way there, I love gaming and want to keep getting the best gaming PCs I can afford...

I mean, at least I -- and other women who want to have tubal surgery -- are being responsible and realizing that parenting isn't for us and it's not fair to just put unwanted children into the adoption system time and time again. I'd rather be safe than sorry, you know?

And the same goes for other types of birth control. Women shouldn't be shamed for wanting such things, although it does still happen. I realize that parenting isn't for me and I'd be an awful parent -- not on purpose, mind you, but I'm too anxious, depressed, yet goal-oriented and self-indulgent to be a good parent. So, wanting long-term or even permanent birth control is a very responsible decision, I think. I'm avoiding a problem that doesn't need to happen if that makes sense.

But the article also made me realize something else, and it's based on what read and learned over the years:

You don't need to apologize to anyone for your existence, nor do you need to explain yourself to everyone who questions every detail about you. You are you, you have your privacy, you have your personal issues to deal with, and you don't owe nosy people anything.

You need to take care of yourself, and if anyone tries to get in the way and make you feel uncomfortable, then you need to avoid them because they aren't going to make things any easier for you. I'm much more aware now of how people are, and I now avoid interacting with those who display abusive/toxic traits like that of my one parent. I don't need more of that kind of crap in my life, certainly not from strangers who may claim to be a friend or my boyfriend or whatever.

No, I am me, I can be me, and I don't need anyone else trying to take their problems out on me. I hope others also realize this, that they don't need to be someone's punching bag (verbally or physically or both), and that it's not your fault if you were abused: the abuser is to blame, no matter what the excuses are. You are not responsible for an abuser's behavior, care, or past. Abusers need to help themselves and you need to help you.

#self healing #self help #mental health #personal rant #mental wellbeing #mental wellness #self care #moving on

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themarvellouswriter · 4 years ago

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TEAR YOU APART

DAMON SALVATORE X DARK HYBRID! FEM! READER

Summary: The reader is Niklaus Mikaelson’s full sister, an Original hybrid. Having known the older Salvatore brother in the 1920s, she finds herself erasing his memory of them together before disappearing with her siblings. Time skip to the present, she is back in Mystic Falls and eager to take back what was hers.

Genres: Smut, angst and overall darkness. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE YOUNGER THAN 21 AND/OR EASILY TRIGGERED.

Words: 6.1k

Notes: This is dark and talks about killing nearly the entire group of the Mystic Falls kids. Not going to lie, you will not like this fic if you like that gang. Set in S2 near the end. Major canon divergence. Also, not beta read.

Warnings: 21+ Dub Con. Non Con. Character Death. Swearing. Blood. Gore. A mildly toxic relationship. Death mentions. Murder. Lots of torture. Maiming. Possessiveness. Blood play. Ugly, ugly jealousy. Emotional manipulation. This is bad, traumatic stuff I’m warning you in advance.

Present Day

Y/N smirked to herself as she walked towards the Mystic Grill. Klaus and her plan to break the Moonstone curse was going along swimmingly. They had all the ingredients for the spell. A vampire, a werewolf and a doppelgänger. They needed two of each just to be on the safer side so she’d found another, Tom Avery, Stefan’s doppelgänger. Although it would be a shame to kill such a pretty face, this was for the greater good. It was much easier to find werewolves. Vampires could always be made so that was nothing to worry about.

She walked inside and took a seat at the bar, knowing it was about time that Damon would show up for their nightly sessions. She’d allowed herself a small victory in knowing that she had compelled him to forget about her as soon as their time was up. He would remember everything all in due time but for now she would reassure herself in the feeling of tearing everyone apart. For the greater good of course. All for the greater good.

She hears his familiar footsteps as he sits down next to her after ordering his drink. She gives him a smile, aware of all the prying eyes on them. “You look lovely as always, pretty one.” He raises an eyebrow at her. “I know, sweetheart. And you’re a nutcase. And this is coming from me.” She looks at him amused. “And what makes you say that?” “You’ve been making and killing vampires for sport all week. How the hell do you expect me to look at you like you’re not the deranged psychopathic bitch you are?” She shrugs slightly, standing up. “Never denied it. Come on now, lover. Things to be done before daybreak.” He looks at her incredulously, sipping his drink. “You’re going to let a big bad vampire be alone with you?” “I keep forgetting nobody knows that I’m an Original. It’s adorable really.” She gives him a charming smile as she compels him. “Get up and follow me outside in a few.” She quickly leaves after paying her tab because she was nice that way. She found herself on the roofs, easily jumping here and there. Getting Damon alone was harder than you’d think. Always the centre of the crowd and enjoying the people around him. That was one of the first things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

Chicago, 1922

Leaving her siblings and their new friend Stefan Salvatore in a separate corner of their speakeasy, Y/N made her way to the dark, curly haired man sitting at the bar and flirting with the women flocking around him. He was extremely good looking, she’d give him that and the way he held everyone’s attention was fascinating.

She walked up to him, dismissing the other patrons with a wave of her hand and giving him a charming smile. “Y/N Mikaelson.” “Damon Salvatore.” He gave her a quick once over, noting that she was one of the three people who were drinking with his brother. Her eyes sparkle in delight. “I’m assuming that the handsome Ripper there is your brother?” He rolls his eyes. “It’s pretty obvious that I’m hotter one. And saner too, vampire. Not that its any of your business since you’re one of the people corrupting him.” She lets out a soft laugh. “You love the corruption otherwise you’d have done something about it by now.” She leaned in close to him, brushing her thumb over his sharp cheekbones and looking into his eyes. “Such a pretty thing. So fragile too.” She grins, moving away. “It’s late, isn’t it? Walk me back to my house please. It is quite unladylike to be wandering about the city alone.” He blinks, slightly taken aback by her behaviour, not used to being left speechless with such sudden change in one’s actions. “Right. I’m sure a vampire like you can take of yourself.” Her grin widens. “Of course. But I insist.” He finds himself getting to his feet and holding out an arm for her. The second she pressed herself into his side, letting him escort her back to the Mikaelsons’ residence, he felt a sudden surge of warmth and protectiveness as he looked at her. She was different and something told him that time with her would be unforgettable. Unusual but he didn’t feel like he minded. She stopped outside the door pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and promising that she would be seeing him again soon as she left him standing outside looking vaguely unsure about what had happened.

Present Day

Y/N turned around and grinned at Damon’s face as he approached her, his guard up. “You should remember everything now, lover.” She says once she’s sure that they’re alone. His eyes glaze over before zeroing in on her. She nearly tackled him, throwing herself into his arms. “I don’t like her touching you.” He buries his nose in her hair, sighing softly. “Me neither, Y/N. I still don’t understand why you’re doing this.” She looks at him sceptically. “I told you. I need to break the curse so I can take control of my full power.” He sighs again. “You’re perfect for me, I don’t want any of this. We could go run away together and never look back.” She shakes her head, growing irritated. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not in the mood to do it again. It’s for the greater good.” He rolls his eyes. “You and your greater good. I want you, not your wild agendas.” She hits his shoulder lightly. “You get all of me.” “I am painfully aware Y/N. This needs to be over fast.” “It will be done in a few weeks. I promise.” “And then I want you to tell me why you ran from me in Chicago and why you compelled me to forget you.” “All in due time lover. I sense that you’re being missed by the little Gilberts. You should leave now that they need their little baby sitter.” “When will I see you you again?” “When I break the curse of course. I won’t let you or Stefan be sacrificed. You’re too good for this world.” “I disagree. I’m a big, bad vampire who eats puppies for breakfast.” She snorts, cupping his face to kiss him deeply. “Cute. You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone, including you, knows it. Now go and forget who I am to you.” She promises, her voice laced with bitterness as she puts the compulsion back in place. She gives him one last, slightly forced smile before disappearing into the night, leaving him alone wondering what he was doing there before heading back to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She finds him alone a few days later, cornering him in the woods as he fed from a poor soul. She smirked coldly as she saw him drop the half dead, withering human to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth. “You always did look better with blood over you.” “Honestly Y/N it’s like you’re following me around.” Her mood sours at his words. “You’ve been kissing and declaring your love for the doppelgänger. I don’t like it so that’s why I’m keeping a close eye on you.” He doesn’t bat an eye. “I do love her. Elena is a beautiful soul once you get to know her.” She clenches her jaw, wrapping her fingers around his neck and slamming him into a tree. “You don’t. Because the only one you’re allowed to love is me.” He raises an eyebrow, not fighting back. “I love you too but with Elena it’s different. I’m never going to get her.” “That’s right. It’s different because you need to stay away from her. If I see you even look at her like you do all tenderly, you’re not going to like what I do to you.” “Ooh, kinky.” He manages to say. Her grip on his throat tightens as he tries to push her off of him in vain. She growls. “Stay the fuck away from her. You’re mine. Do I need to show you?” He feels his vision blur, if she went on like this she was going to end up killing him temporarily. “It has been decades since you showed me, hasn’t it?” She partially shifts, her fangs out as she glares at him, letting go of her grip on his neck and ripping off the front of his black shirt and shredding his jacket. “Fuck you, Damon Salvatore.” She snarls tossing the torn clothes aside and digging her fingers into his collarbones dragging them down to the waistband of his jeans, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake. He barely manages to control a soft moan at her actions. He enjoyed being used even though he would never admit it out loud but somehow she knew. She always knew what he wanted and what he didn’t and this was one of those times. “Y/N.” He whispered quietly. “Shut the hell up Salvatore.” She snapped back, getting on her knees and pulling down his jeans. “You need a reminder. You belong to me and I am not going take you pining over that daft bimbo of a doppelgänger like some sort of silent watcher.”

She traces a path up his thighs, marking his pale skin with her fangs, knowing they’d take a bit longer to heal because of her werewolf side. If he wanted to go out and flirt and kiss others in front of her, well she was going to make him regret everything. “I own you and you don’t have a say in anything I do to you.” Minus their safe-words of course. “Yes you do. And I love it when you get all demanding when I get around.” Her grip on his thigh tightens almost painfully, bruising his skin. “Did I or did I not tell you to shut up?” She hisses. “You might have mentioned it.” He says shrugging, trying not to get affected by the image of her kneeling in front of him, the moonlight hitting just right and making her glow in the darkness. Perfect features, sharp eyes, fangs dripping his blood and blood smeared fingers now wrapped around his length. “Are you going to shut up or do I need to remind you what happens when you don’t obey?” She hisses, slowly moving her hand up and down his hardening member and drawing out a long moan from him as he muttered profanities under his breath. “I’m sorry.” His voice came out rougher than he expected and her mouth twisted into a tight smile. “Beg. You know the drill don’t you, lover?” Her voice was sweet like she wouldn’t leave him all riled up and bleeding with no way to let out his tension. He nods, pulling her up to her feet and guiding her free hand to wrap around his neck and wrapping his arm around her waist his free hand sliding up her thigh. “I’m sorry that I did it. Nobody can ever replace you. You own me and I would do anything for you.” He looks at her in the eyes, meaning every word. She doesn’t say anything, silencing him with a sloppy kiss and licking the blood away from his mouth. She increased the pace of her ministrations bringing him closer and closer to the edge, the barely breathing human lying forgotten next to them. He moaned against her skin, her name falling like prayer from his lips as he finally came undone in her hand, chest heaving with the exertion and face flushed as he looked her.

She kissed him once again before stepping away. “Finish the blood bag will you. I don’t like moving food.” She says nonchalantly, licking her fingers. He stares at her, half indignant as he comes down from his high. “You’re seriously not going to let me fuck you?” She tuts disapprovingly. “After the ritual. And you still have to make up to me for messing around with the doppelgänger.” He sighs, pulling up the trembling body and ripping the head clean off and throwing it at her feet before licking off the blood dripping down the neck. She gives him a placating smile. “You would’ve had you not declared your undying love for her. And here we are. I will see you in three days under the full moon.” She says flatly, ignoring the hurt in his expression as she walked away, the compulsion falling back into place as she disappears from sight. He looks down at the body horrified and then at his shredded clothes and then the blood still pouring from the thin lines over his chest, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he’d somehow become a ripper and then forgotten all about it. He shakily made his way back to the Salvatore Boarding House in the early hours of the morning after burying the body. He was still shaking as he curled up in his bed, ignoring Stefan and Elena who were talking in hushed whispers about his odd behaviour. He was missing hours from his memory and he had no clue how it was possible, he’d made sure to stay away from all Originals but somehow it was affecting him and his sanity. His thoughts plagued him as he slowly drifted off into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~

The witch, Greta Martin, had started doing the spell. The two vampires, a freshly turned Jenna and Katherine, the two werewolves, Jules and Tyler, and the two doppelgängers, Elena and Tom. Y/N resisted the urge to laugh. They’d thought they needed one of each but they didn’t know that two curses were going to be broken tonight. Bonnie Bennett and the younger Gilbert, Jeremy or whatever his name was, along with a few measly humans, Matt and something or the other, and Caroline were working on a way to save everyone. But there was no saving anyone when the Mikaelsons had decided they were going to die.

Stefan Salvatore was such a noble soul, bless his little heart, wanting to replace Jenna with himself. Y/N and Niklaus exchanged amused smiles before compelling him to watch the ritual and see them shift into their wolf forms. They had just removed the hearts of the wolves and staked the vampires when a slightly pale faced Damon appeared, trying to call off the ritual. Feeling a sudden surge of anger at the hold the annoying doppelgänger had on the brothers, Y/N pulled her towards herself and sank her teeth into her neck, draining her of all her blood as the Salvatores watched her in a mix of rage and horror as she dropped her body to the ground, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and looking at them pointedly. Niklaus had killed Tom and was waiting for the rest of the spell to finish when Bonnie stepped in from the trees and Damon used her appearance to his advantage to snap the witch’s neck, ending the spell. The Mikaelsons let out a scream of barely controlled fury and pain as Bonnie used her magic to fling them both against the trees. The older Salvatore didn’t even look twice at Y/N, cradling Elena’s limp body as she stirred, Bonnie’s spell having resurrected her.

Y/N felt smug satisfaction as Bonnie’s strength waned after holding two Originals in place and performing an extremely powerful spell to swap lives. Ripping free from her spell she slowly got to her feet, resisting the urge to shift and run around like Niklaus had done. Now was her chance to make them suffer. And suffer they would. She marched up to a surprised Bonnie, pulling her heart out as she fell to the ground, immediately dead. She gave Stefan an icy glare before yanking Damon away from Elena who was staring up at him wide eyed and slack jawed. “God. How I hate your pathetic family. Your line has brought nothing but bad news for my brothers, always fighting over Tatia or Katerina and now your stupid ass.” She spits out before turning to face Damon. “You absolute dumbass, so many warnings I have to give to stay away from her and yet you follow her around like a puppy.” She grips his face, making him look into her eyes. “Stay and watch and I want to hear you scream while I show you what I do to people who I hate.” Her gaze flicks over to Stefan. “You too Stefan, my sister doesn’t take kindly to cheaters.”

Damon stands, unable to move as he watches Y/N practically lose it. “Stop all your crazy, woman. You lost.” She lets out a cold laugh, caressing his face and making him look at Elena’s terrified face. “You know I never lose, lover. You’ve seen me kill way too many people.” She murmurs in his ear, making sure everyone could hear her. She pulls Elena up to her feet, defiant till the last minute. “Go to hell, Y/N.” “Been there done that sweetheart, where do you think I came from?” She practically purrs, slowly almost lovingly, biting her neck again. “You’re so lucky we need your blood. I know so many ways to get all of it.” She says against her skin as the Salvatores watch her, revolted. She maintains eye contact with Damon as she drags the kicking and screaming doppelgänger to the altar and shoving her down on the ground, hearing a satisfying crack as her spine shattered at the force. Y/N looked at Damon, eyebrow raised. “She’s paralysed now. Still want this fragile, useless creature? Pathetic.” She crushes her left knee under her heel as Elena screams loudly. She looks at her irritated, compelling her to stay quiet. “Shut up. I want to hear my love scream as I break you. You’re not going to die yet. But you’ll wish you were dead I assure you.” She promises. She kicks her arms above her head as she breaks her shoulders. Damon feels tears come to his eyes as watches the scene unfold before him. The woman he loved get tortured by a deranged Mikaelson. Y/N looks at him inwardly delighted. “Crying so soon D? I haven’t even started yet. The human body has 206 bones. I’ve only broken about eight so far.” She says thoughtfully turning her attention back to Elena’s trembling form. “Stop. Please. I can’t watch anymore.” She pretends to think for a moment, playing with her fingers. “Hmm. I don’t think so.” She harshly breaks them, twisting them in odd angles as tears stream down the doppelgänger’s face.

Damon looks away before turning to glare at her, eyes blazing. “I’m going to kill you myself.” “Good luck sweetheart.” She says unbothered, breaking her elbow and bending it at an awkward angle. “Now all you have to do is wait for a few hours.” She says thoughtfully, pulling out her phone to text another witch to come and drain Elena of her blood in front of Damon. She stretches, pulling off her jacket and tossing it at him before turning to Stefan. “Sleep. You can wake up when I turn back.” Stefan falls to the ground, unmoving and limp. Damon seethes in his place, trying to force himself to break out of the compulsion and tear Y/N apart with his bare hands. Unfortunately, the affects of the werewolf bite were starting to get to him and with the pain, emotional trauma of watching Elena get tortured in front of him was too much. Y/N stripped down to nothing, walking over to him and running her hands down his chest as he let out a low, guttural growl at her actions, trying to back away. She laughs, blood dripping down her chin and running down her chest, distracting him from his previous thoughts. This was not supposed to be attractive! He was supposed to despise her and kill her for hurting the people he cared about, albeit grudging care. She noticed his gaze and smirked, slightly shaking her head. “Even compelled...” He tears his eyes from her body, turning the full force of his glare towards her. “I hate you.” He says bitterly. “No, you don’t, lover. As punishment for your idiocy, you have to watch her die in excruciating pain.” She says sweetly, as if offering him a treat. She ruffles his hair affectionately. “I am just anticipating the angry sex after this. Beautiful.” She takes a few steps away, falling to her hands and knees as the change begins. And then nothing as she tears off into the darkness leaving Damon to watch Elena slowly die as the new witch came to drain her, Stefan lying near him, unmoving.

He was shaking, livid and in so much pain. As much as he wanted to stop watching Elena slowly die in front of him, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, feeling his heart shatter as he started to hallucinate because of the bite, feeling his fangs come out against his will. The Sun had risen, Elena’s breathing laboured and her mouth forming words, reassurances but not a sound coming out. It would be so easy to just flip the switch. Not feel anything ever again. He tightly shut his eyes, trying to block everything out when he felt a warm palm pressed against his back. Y/N. He was so ready to kill her or die trying. She was standing beside him, chin resting against his shoulder as she watched Elena slowly ebb away. It was a downright miracle that she was still alive. “I admire your tenacity doppelgänger. But unfortunately, it’s not going to help you today.” She says, ruffling Damon’s hair who flinched from her touch. “See, pretty one? This is what happens when you disobey.” She murmurs, cutting open her wrist and holding it to his mouth, forcing him to drink her blood, healing him. She hadn’t bothered getting dressed, kneeling beside Elena and feeding her some of her blood to prolong her life, feeling his angry gaze on her back as she snapped all the broken bones in place. She turned around to give him a soft smile. “Come on now, lover. Don’t you want to see what she feels like? Like you’ve been aching for her touch?”

He takes reluctant steps towards them, looking pleadingly at Elena who swayed on her feet. “Don’t move now doppelgänger. I’m not done yet.” Y/N’s voice comes out sharp and demanding as she compels her. “See, I’ve known the Salvatores since the 20s and the things we got up to would make your toes curl. And since they met you and your little Team Save Elena, they’ve grown soft and it’s revolting to see such uselessness from two of the most feared killers in history.” She continues, ignoring both of them as she examined her nails in the early morning light.

“You know nothing about me.” Damon hisses, finally snapping having had enough of the Mikaelsons and their mind games. “Oh, but I do, lover. I know you want adventure, that’s why you’re still here in front of me. You like to rebel. You want mystery, passion, romance and a lot of danger.” She smiles easily, brushing away the blood from his lips. “If I thought you were a weakling, I would have let you die a hundred years ago.”

Chicago, 1922

Y/N and Damon were dancing together in the speakeasy, having grown close over the past few months. They twirled around in the room, unable to take their eyes off of each other. Rebekah, Niklaus and Stefan were drinking blood together in a hidden booth. Damon smiled affectionately at her. “You’re really something Y/N and you fascinate me like nobody else.” She laughs, giving him a cheeky kiss. “Do you think so, lover? I’ve been around a long time and you’re still so young.” He grins, shaking his head. “I don’t think you can say that after the little Ripper fest we enjoyed in the church last night. And you looked so pretty covered in blood and screaming my name as I fucked you in the confessional.” He murmurs against her skin, hands firmly resting on her hips, holding her tightly against him. “That was nice. The thing you did with the pastor after taking me on the altar was lovely. I was quite into that.” She agrees, letting out a dreamy sigh. “Sadly the cover-ups are a bit annoying.” He hums in response but before he can say anything the speakeasy erupts into fearful screams. Y/N watches the human and vampire patrons get staked around her, afraid for the first time in a long time. She pulls Damon to the floor beside her as panicked people try to escape, huddling together against the wall. When he meets her eyes, he sees barely controlled fear which surprises him greatly. “Y/N. Do you know the hunters?” “The hunter is an Original vampire. And my father.” She says quietly as bodies fall around them, the screams reaching a fever pitch. “You need to run. Be safe. I’ll find you I promise.” She murmurs, tightening her grip on him. “No. I’m not leaving you. I love you Y/N. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He cups her face before kissing her gently. She gives him a forced grin, “I know. I love you too. And I need you safe.” She looks into his eyes, her heart breaking as she compels him to forget her till she says he can remember her again. She presses a soft kiss to his forehead, standing up and escaping the building with her siblings. She’s the last one out, watching Damon from the shadows. She smiles to herself as he pulls out a wayward stake from his shoulder as he runs out, unknowingly in her direction. Knowing the stakes were poisoned with werewolf venom, she pulled him into the dark alcove she was hiding in and pressed her bleeding wrist to his mouth wordlessly, making sure he couldn’t see her face. “Run far away, pretty one. Stay safe till I find you again.” She whispers before disappearing into the night with her siblings.

Present Day

Elena stares at Y/N, terrified about what was she was going to do. As if reading her mind, a cold, cruel smile graced her features. “I’m not going to do anything to you doppelgänger. This one, the one you’ve been playing with all year, is going to be tearing you apart.” Her eyes widen in shock as she tries to speak. Damon vehemently shakes his head, “I’m not going to do ANYTHING you say.” She tuts. “You don’t have a choice, lover. Now, tell me what you like about her, wrong answer and our dear Elena loses an organ.” He grits his teeth trying to force the words back. “Her kindness and the love she has for everyone.” “Wrong. I think we should start with the kidneys. Take the left one out please.” He watches in horror as his hand rises of its own accord, sinking into her body and pulling out a bloody kidney. Elena doubles over at the loss before Y/N compels her to stand properly and not move at all. “Next. Continue.” “The way she thinks everyone can be saved.” “Wrong again. The small intestine should do nicely. Pull it out.” Dread had properly set in as he shut his eyes, pulling out the organ and dropping the long, snake like thing on the grass. “Hmm… I’m not enjoying this as much as I should.” She muses before brightening up. “You can scream now Elena, I don’t mind.” Looking just the faintest bit relieved, she lets out an ear piercing scream as her body begins to shut down to deal with the intense blood and organ loss. Damon lets out a barely audible whimper at the sound, hating Y/N more than he thought possible.

It goes on for what feels like hours as she makes him pull out all her organs one by one till the ground is just a pile of different bloody body parts and bones. Her heart lies on top of the pile, right above her crumpled form. Damon is shaking, body racked with pained sobs as he looks at the sight in front of him. Y/N presses herself against his back, playing with his belt loops and palming him gently through his jeans. “See, lover? Can you blame a girl for doing this to get her man to stay loyal to her?” “I am not your man. I will never be yours.” He says bitterly, rage fuelling him as numbness sets in. “I’d like you to remember everything that happened in the twenties. It is now time.” She says calmly, looking into his eyes.

He feels a sudden flood of memories come to him from a century ago, he drops to his knees overwhelmed by the intensity. He realises that whatever he had felt for Elena was nothing as compared to what he felt for Y/N. She was everything to him, his everything. If he had her, he didn’t need anything else. She was perfection personified and he loved her like nobody else. But the amount of emotional trauma she had inflicted on him was not going to be brushed off so easily. It was a weird dynamic they had but it worked well for them.

He gets to his feet, thoughts organized for what felt like the first time in forever and glared at her. She merely smiled in response. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, lover?” He snarls throwing her against a tree, ignoring the bodies around them, hearing a satisfying grinding sound as the tree cracked under her weight. She let out a soft groan, her back getting scratched up and her nose starting to drip blood. She gives him a feral smile, wiping the blood off. “There he is. Are you going to fuck me now for giving you so much crap? For playing with your emotions and making you cry over some stupid chick you don’t care about?” She says, taunting him with her words. He takes the bait, pining her against the tree, holding her wrists above her head and forcing apart her legs with his knee. “Do not fuck with me like this again or I will leave you.” He threatens. Feeling incredibly turned on, she nods. “I’m not letting you go ever again. You’re mine.” “And you have to stop strutting around naked all the time, it is incredibly distracting.” He murmurs, biting her neck and drinking her blood. “I was making a point.” She manages to say in between soft moans as he rubs his free hand right where she needed him. “Point made. None of that anymore or I’m going to tie you up and leave you in the basement alone and begging for me.” She nods vigorously. “Yes, yes of course. Now just stop talking and fuck me properly.” “You’re so lucky that I’ve missed holding you that I’m not going to take my time like I usually do. Later today, you’re going to show me what you’ve been doing all this time without me.” He says pulling off his clothes and throwing them away haphazardly. “Of course I will.” She promises, tugging him towards her and curling her fingers in his hair as she kisses him roughly. “Good girl.” He whispers appreciatively, digging his fingers into her hips, hoisting her up higher against the tree and pushing his entire length into her in one go. He doesn’t give her time to adjust before he ruthlessly begins to thrust into her, silencing her moans by kissing her again. She feels heady with desire, enjoying the feeling of him all around her after literal decades of waiting. “You feel so good, lover.” She murmurs against his skin. “Next time in the Fell’s church for old time’s sake?” “Maybe I’ll gag you then. You’ve started talking too much.” He muses, letting out a breathy moan of her name as she clenches her walls around him, close to the edge. “Then you won’t be able to hear me call your name as I climax, would you?” “I’d still be making you scream when I cut you up with those daggers of yours dipped in wolfsbane.” “I missed you and your sadism.” She gasps out after a particularly hard thrust, the bark tearing her back and waves of pain mixing with the pleasure he was providing her. And he felt so good as he pounded into her, leaving rapidly healing bites over her neck and chest and licking off her blood. She finally reaches her peak burying her head in the crook of his neck to stifle her broken moans. He doesn’t let up as he overstimulates her, feeling himself close to the edge. “Again. Come for me again.” He growls, gently nipping her ear lobe and kissing her jaw. She trembles in his arms not yet used to the heightened feelings that came with being a proper hybrid. She tightens her grip on his hair drawing out a pleased moan from him as he finally climaxes, her following shortly after. She slumps weakly in his arms as they exchange lazy kisses, recovering from their highs. She rests her head against his shoulder as her back heals itself.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N spots Caroline, Matt, Jeremy and Alaric staring at the bloody scene in front of them in a mix of fear, shock, repulsion and horror. She smirks, unlatching herself from Damon and speaking up for everyone to hear. “Well Damon, I think it’s time we send the rest where the others are?” He gives her a feral grin as he pulls on his underwear and runs a bloodstained hand through his hair. “For the greater good.” He agrees.

With that the duo launches themselves at the four taking them by surprise, tearing into them and killing them with relative ease. Y/N lets out an appreciative hum wiping the blood from her chin and kisses him again. “I enjoy it when we feed together. It’s a nice bonding activity.” “I enjoy our Ripper phases. Can’t believe I thought humans were worth keeping safe.” She gives him a smug smile. “Exactly my point. Now, back to the Mansion where you’re going to show me how much you love me and what all you’re willing to do for the greater good.” He laughs, picking her up bridal style before his gaze drifts to his brother. “Aren’t you going to wake Stef up?” “Yes, that. Rebekah should be here soon, she can take care of him.” She looks in the direction of the younger Salvatore. “Wake up and go to the Boarding House, Stefan dear.” She throws an arm around Damon’s neck before kissing him again. “The things we do for love.” “For love and for the greater good.” He gives her a soft smile, reserved only for her on rare occasions before kissing her softly. They quickly made their way to the Mansion where they spent the rest of the day in the throes of passion, marking each other as their one and only.

And what exactly what this greater good? Y/N’s happiness of course, no matter who came in the way or who got hurt in the process, her happiness was the most important.

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