#it's SO apparent when he takes over the research
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Here's the thing. A lot of people think of Kelda Wineberry as a joke. Because she is a bard, and her criteria for falling into the sheets with someone are pretty much consenting and moving and that's it, and also she's a halfling wearing a human hat with a huge ostrich plume, which means that the hat, at first glance, appears roughly the size of Kelda and has usually slid down over her eyes. I gotta admit that I've sometimes underestimated Kelda.
Never again.
Because she not only managed to improvise an anti-panic ritual on the fly, she figured out a way to calm down someone who doesn't breathe. Like. Where do you go with that? Take a deep breath inânope, he doesn't. Let out your breath slowlyâhe can't. So she engaged his concentration by asking him to list a bunch of things starting with the same letter, and then another list, all the time plucking gently on her lute. I honestly don't think she was spellcasting. He probably would have known, and panicked. It was just a soothing background to what she was saying.
At length, Janisâwho was more than a little singed by whatever Dread Isithamar fired into their chestâcoughed, and moaned, and then passed out again.
"You see?" Kelda said. "They're going to be okay. Honestly we've had to do this before. They worship the Lady of Dawn, not the Lady of Standing Back And Making Wise Choices. How about you? How did you getâwellâin this state, without a blood ritual?"
"I." Isitiamar can't blink, or I think he might have. "Well, the thing is, I really, really like research."
"Yeah?"
"So when my time came to dieâmy order gets taken personally by the Lady of Sunset, you knowâI didn't turn around to see who it was, I just said, 'Piss off, I'm working.'"
"And?"
"And apparently she sort ofâdid. Now, you people were talking about a scroll? And an eclipse that's going to end the world? You have to understand, we can't have that. My library is in the world!"
It turns out that the lich the adventurers had been hired to slay had never actually killed anyone before until the impulsive paladin of the group swung first. Now, as the healer tries to revive them, the rest have to calm the ancient undead mage down from what is undeniably a panic attack.
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A Cluster of Burning Stars - Prologue
{ao3}
âWhat do you think itâs like down on Earth?âÂ
âI bet thereâs lots more places to run than up here. It looks so big. All the pictures make it look so open. So much bigger than this stupid ship.âÂ
âDonât be rude.âÂ
âI hope itâs just like those fairytales you read me, Maria! With magic and destiny and true loveâŚâÂ
â--What about you, Shadow?âÂ
â...it doesnât matter. If we go there, weâll go together, and thatâs whatâs important.â
â...â
â...â
â...Stop being a sap, Shadow, and tell us what you actually wanna see.â
âFine. I wanna hold a spider.âÂ
âI knew it.âÂ
âHa ha.âÂ
âStop arguing, boys. We have to go back to lessons in a bit. Letâs just⌠enjoy the view.âÂ
âIt⌠it is a lovely view.â
â...Yeah.âÂ
---
Knuckles the Echidna and Miles âTailsâ Prower the Fox had been thorns in the side of Doctor Ivo Robotnik for way too long for him to not lose his mind the second he saw them during his most recent conquest of the planet. Of course, they wouldnât have it any other way, this was pretty much how they get their kicks. It got a bit difficult sometimes, but thatâs what the extended team was for. But for today, itâs just Knuckles and Tails. They should be fine for now.Â
Todayâs mission brought them somewhere strange, though. When Tails picked up the signal that Robotnikâs ship had reached the general area, he was worried that he was going to a deserted island in order to capture more flickies to turn into robots-- still hadnât gotten tired of that, apparently. But when he picked Knuckles up from Angel Island and flew over, they had to engage stealth mode incredibly quickly, as they noticed the island was, indeed, not deserted.Â
âHurry it up, Tails.â Knuckles muttered, standing on the wing of the plane and staring down at the huge metallic facility taking up half the island. He could see a protected road and an arched, towering fence over it. It led a little bit off the shoreline, over to what seemed to be some form of landing pad. What drew attention the most, though, were the flashing lights and distant sound of an alarm. Robotnik must already be inside.Â
âIâm working on it.â Tails muttered, giving him a quick glare. âItâs a bit hard to scan government files and fly a plane at the same time.â He put a hand to the communicator in his ear, and called, âVector, Espio, you better be working, too.âÂ
He heard a few mutters of confirmation from the other end of the line.Â
Knuckles glanced down at the land below, narrowing his eyes so the lights stopped bothering him so much. âThis isnât the kind of island I like being around, Tails.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
âI prefer silence. Nature. Solitude. No sudden noises.âÂ
âIâm aware⌠hold on, Vector got something.âÂ
Knuckles sighed and reached to his ear, turning on his communicator; he tried to keep it off, mainly, because the static when everyone was silent annoyed him to no end. But once it was on, he could hear the Chaotix from back in Station Square, scanning whatever computer theyâd managed to snag.Â
ââPrison Island,â Vector was saying, as Knuckles could hear Espio distantly chasing Charmy around the room; the bee seemed to have grabbed something from his fellow detective and was refusing to give it back.
âPrison Island?â Tails asked.Â
âSecret Military Base.â Vector affirmed. âResearch facility of GUN. Thereâs a ton of military facilities, but that big thing in the middle should be their prison. Six levels of security. Should be completely impossible to get through.âÂ
âOkay,â Tails said, âSo how long do you think itâll take us to bust after Robotnik in there?âÂ
âLess than an hour.âÂ
âAlright. Weâre shutting off communications. Send the emergency alert if you need anything, you know how.â Tails switched off his communicator, and then said, âYou ready to break into a government facility?âÂ
Knuckles finally smiled, and punched his palm. âWhen am I not?âÂ
---
Six levels of security, protected by the best technology and weaponry that the Guardian Units of Nations could offer, were never going to be a match for Dr Ivo Robotnik. He hadnât even brought his best robots-- he sat in a simple Robo-Walker and blazed his way through hall after hall, hidden elevator after elevator. Security drones would come to attack, but of course they were no match for his technology. Robotnik was the genius of the century, at least according to him, so of course this would be no problem.Â
There were six levels of security, he knew, and the files heâd spent days hacking into were a bit more correct than what Vector dug up in a few minutes. While each level had defenses, guards, cameras⌠everything stopped at Level Seven. GUN never assumed that anyone would be able to get that far, and besides, they didnât like people knowing what was in there.Â
Once Robotnik entered, he approached the large, shining computer in the center. And he looked underneath, to see the frozen tube, holding GUNâs dark, shameful secret within.
âSo this is the militaryâs top secret weapon. A bit smaller than I expected.âÂ
He was not deterred; size was no guarantee of power. His own Bokkun messenger could carry a multitude of explosives, and that stupid fox couldnât be over 3â0, and yet he and his echidna friend had been foiling his plans for far too long. Luckily, he had a solution, thanks to the hidden files, the buried research of his brilliant grandfather. And now that he had that information, he could finally defeat those dumb animals, and proceed with his plans for the Robotnik Empire. All he had to doâŚ
âEnter user data, aha⌠enter password.âÂ
An easy password. Of course, GUN wouldnât have guessed it. Robotnik had guessed it due to, as Tails would put it, his inflated sense of ego leading him to believe his family line was superior to all others on the planet. Robotniks had always treasured family above all else, but not always for reasons of superiority, something the girl he was using as a password had once understood.Â
âM-A-R-I-A.â
The computer buzzed, and then all Robotnik had to do was place the key to open the chamber, a key that GUN had haughtily assumed none but them would ever be able to find, bring to the facility, and reach level seven to utilize.Â
But being experienced at stealing these precious stones to power his machines (though Knuckles always somehow got them back, annoyingly), Robotnik simply removed the white chaos emerald from his pocket, and placed it into a console beside the capsule. It took only a moment before the distant hum and glow of the emerald began its work. Robotnik allowed the gunner machine he sat inside to step back as the capsule slowly began to rise, a small amount of smoke clearing from the platform. GUN and their dramatics⌠well, honestly, Robotnik could appreciate that. Presentation was very important.
The capsule finished rising, and lifted itself in a diagonal position, as if whatever was inside would need to sit up. Then, with another puff of smoke, the lid flipped open.Â
And, in confusion, Robotnik watched as a black hedgehog climbed out, shakily standing.Â
The hedgehog was still for a moment, eyes narrowed, clearly trying to figure out where he was. He then turned, seeing Robotnik himself. His eyes widened for just a moment, before the emotion was hidden again. Carefully, he observed the room, and then crossed his arms.Â
Sensing he wouldnât speak on his own, Robotnik prompted, âSo. The militaryâs top-secret weapon is⌠a hedgehog.âÂ
The hedgehog continued to stare, and then knelt down. Eyes down, he said, in a quiet, dark voice, âMy name is Shadow.â He looked up, then stood and crossed his arms again. âSince you were so kind to release me, my master, I will grant you one wish.âÂ
Robotnik took a moment, trying to decide if the hedgehog was joking. It seemed a bit impossible to tell. But, well, with an ego like Robotnikâs, it was quite easy for him to accept that, of course, this creature would immediately want to serve one as great as him.Â
âWell, I could definitely use some assistance getting out of here.â Robotnik said, considering. âIâm sure GUN has already brought in more forces. And that silly echidna and his little friends will probably come in to ruin my fun.âÂ
The hedgehog once again had a moment where his facial expression changed, a glimmer of something behind his eyes. âGUN? Weâre in a GUN facility?âÂ
âWhere else would you be? If you are this âultimate lifeform,â you are a GUN weapon.âÂ
The hedgehog watched him for a moment, and then turned and began inspecting the room. He walked to the computer, running a hand across it, before he turned to his capsule. He peered inside, almost confused.Â
âIs something the matter⌠Shadow?âÂ
The hedgehog looked up. âAm I the only one here?âÂ
âBut of course. Youâre the weapon, arenât you?âÂ
The hedgehog blinked once. Then twice. Then he turned, so the doctor could not see his face. A small whisper. Tiny enough that Robotnik, who wasnât paying much attention anyway, definitely wouldnât have heard itâ and if he did, he wouldnât have known what to do with it, or with the break in the hedgehogâs voice as he spoke.Â
âThey killed them.âÂ
They wouldnât have kept them separate, would they? Theyâd want all their eggs in one basket. Thatâs why they were all on the ARK in the first place.Â
Maria died to keep them all safe. She died and they killed the others anyway. Of course they would. Of course they would, theyâd always said that Shadow was the most useful. Thatâs why heâd had to protect them, thatâs⌠thatâs why it was his fault, he hadnât protected them enough, and now they were all dead.Â
GUN had taken everything.Â
---
Shadow burst through everything in the facility, and when they reached the outside, and he stopped to take a breath, and he looked up at the Earth that had been denied to him for so long, denied to all of them, he held his tears back.Â
Two mobians were there, species he vaguely recognized from their textbooks on the ARK. Fox? And⌠porcupine? Bandicoot? Echidna? Echidna seemed right. The red echidna turned to him, eyes wide with confusion and anger.Â
âHey, you!â he shouted, and Shadow resisted the urge to cover his ears, the noise of the collapsing building inside and the distant gunshots already thundering in his head. âWhat do you think youâre doing?â
The fox gave him some kind of chiding, but Shadow didnât listen. He just gave them both a fiery glare. âIâm granting my family justice.â he whispered, not caring if they could or could not hear him.Â
He leapt forwards, then, spinning and ramming into the echidna. It sent the red mobian flying back, and Shadow took no time in turning and swinging a kick, sending the fox flying away from him. He heard the echidna leap back up, shouting something in an excited toneâ someone who liked to fight, then. The fox said nothing, but Shadow could see him get back to his feet, steadying himself.Â
But as Shadow turned to continue the brawl, he wasnât thinking about them. He was thinking about that first night.
âI canât sleep.âÂ
âWhy?â
âItâs a new room. I donât know how.âÂ
âSo why bother me?âÂ
âItâs your room. How do you sleep here?âÂ
âI just⌠do. Other hedgehog, help me out here.âÂ
âNo, Iâm with her on this. I feel weird.âÂ
â...you want to cuddle, donât you?âÂ
Two little voices, muttering, âMaybe.âÂ
âFine. Come here.âÂ
He remembered that feeling. He had to be ten years old then, they were all so young. Heâd scooted back on the bottom bunk, and then the blue hedgehog had crawled up, cautiously curling up on the bedâs edge, but then the youngest leapt on, bounced, and dragged them all together. She laid inbetween them, hugging them to her, refusing to let go. She had her head on Shadowâs shoulder, then, and whispered, âNight-night.âÂ
Both of the others had been uncomfortable at first, not used to touch. But theyâd realized fast that she needed this, and, well, maybe they needed it, too. Just someone to hold.Â
Iâm sorry.Â
They were gone now. Because heâd failed them.Â
Iâm sorry, Maria.Â
Iâm sorry, Amy.Â
Iâm sorry, Sonic.Â
I wonât fail your memory.Â
---
Hundreds of miles away, on a deserted island, a second pod let out a long beep, before falling silent again.
#sonic fanfiction#sth#sonic the hedgehog#a cluster of burning stars#shadow the hedgehog#connie writes#mine#SURPRISE! this was the au that reared its head at me after like 3 years and kicked me in the nuts#and now im obsessed
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MIXINâ N MATCHINâ!
when ⌠your best friend canât stand your crush on genshin men anymore, and starts working on a genius plan to get you guys together!
Ëđš ŕŁŞË lumine & albedo, zhongli
a/n ⌠zhongliâs section takes place during the lantern rite! i donât know much about chinese celebrations and their customs so i did my best to research some information. please lmk if i got anything wrong!!
[honkai: star rail version coming soon] [pt 2 coming soon]
#1 MATCHMAKER OF ALL TEYVAT (AND BEYOND) ⌠LUMINE!
lumine has been traveling teyvat for what seems like ages now, the journey to find her brother becoming more and more lengthy as time passes. luckily she encountered you, quickly bonding a tight friendship, reminding her of her home-world, where she used to play matchmaker with her friends. so, when one day she notices your gaze lingering just a little bit longer on him, she quickly puts 2 and 2 together⌠detective lumine starts her mission now!
case 001 â ALBEDO
even someone who wasnât a genius like her (in her humble opinion) could notice how your cheeks turned redder and your gaze softer in front of the charming alchemist from dragonspine. really, itâs both a blessing and a curse â lumine now doesnât have to wander around the snowy mountain by herself (paimon isnât the best companyâŚ) but the price to pay is watching your atrocious attempts at making conversation with albedo.
whatâs worse (is there even anything worse than watching two awkward idiots stare at each other without doing anything??) is that she can see that albedo likes you too. hell, was he always this talkative? who even cares about how much mucus cryo slimes produce in the summer? you, apparently â which is precisely why she set her mind on getting you together.
albedo, apparently, doesnât only look like a charming, romantic prince, but also seems to act like a cheesy fool in love, sketching you over and over and over ⌠in his top secret sketchbook. one day, when heâs too busy blabbering about the logistics of the nth lost puzzle he found (and youâre too concentrated on pretending to listen to him), lumine wanders back to his tent, swiftly snatching his sketchbook and throwing it into her bag. once itâs time to head back down the mountain, she canât stop giggling to herself, savoring the look youâll have on your face once youâll see the infinite sketches of you.
unsurprisingly, once she brings out the drawings you feel like fainting. THE albedo having a whole diary about you? you feel like youâre on cloud nine. this surely canât be true, of course, he probably has one for each of his friends⌠thoughts like this go in and out of your brain as you scan the pages, before something catches your eye.
a portrait of you, with a cryo crystalfly peached on your nose. when did he even find the time to draw this? as your face reddens, your gaze drops to the corner of the page, met with a quickly scribbled captionâŚ
mein schatz, sketch #88. lumine chuckles as you shriek â whatâs left is getting either one of you to confess.
[case 001, SUCCES!]
case 002 â ZHONGLI
lumine is sure that sheâd make a great detective. of course she would, she has an amazing eye for catching up with the feelings of those around her. youâre lucky sheâs also incredibly patient â otherwise, sheâd have already hypnotized you or something to make you admit your feelings for the wangsheng funeral parlor employee. yes, youâre awfully lucky, because she has now set her mind on setting up a date between you and none other than the geo archon himself, zhongli.
but how? you havenât visited liyue in a while, and surely showing up for no apparent reason (even if sheâs the hero of liyue! she doesnât need any excuse!) would rise up some suspicions. wait, what is she thinking? of course she has a reason to visit liyue! this year lanternâs rite is just around the corner â and surely you wonât mind accompanying your best friend, right? plus, zhongli will be there too!
as you both reach liyue, all dolled up for the celebration, lumine quickly ushers you to wanmin restaurant, claiming that some of your friends are already there â what about her? of course, sheâs busy with something, sheâll be right back! you can barely nod before being greeted by xinyan and yunjin, not noticing the funeral parlor director herself approaching lumine. little did you know, hu tao has already taken note of mr. zhongliâs fondness of you, especially since heâs been lamenting the lack of your presence more often.
sometimes even the best detectives need helpers, lumine thinks. hu tao will do for now. lumine canât hide her excitement as they both start chattering about their foolproof plans for getting you and zhongli together â and apparently their giggles are too loud, or they said your name too many times⌠well, whatever it is, theyâre screwed now. really screwed, lumine thinks, as she and hu tao turn around, met with yaoyaoâs adorable doe eyes.
âbig sis, miss hu tao, what are you talking about?â, she voices, her words laced with pure curiosity. âwell, we uhmâŚâ, lumine tries to scramble her thoughts together â if yaoyao spills the beans to her master cloud retainer, lumineâs sure that sheâs done for, as xianyun would waste no time in chiding zhongli for not asking you out sooner.
âi mean, why are you hiding and talking about mr zhongli and miss y/n? if you have to tell them something, theyâre both right there!â
right where? lumine and hu tao lock eyes, mirroring each otherâs shocked expressions. as they turn around for what feels like ages, theyâre met with a shocking sight (hu taoâs sure that sheâs going to pass out).
surely enough, here you are, hand in hand with none other than zhongli himself, as he tells you about the history of the lantern rite. zhongli, for once, isnât reminiscing with his eyes closed in reflection, but heâs looking right at you, with a deep, affectionate gaze. as he leans in to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, lumine feels like crying â what was the point in making all that effort if she was going to be beat by zhongliâs passion for history??
[case 002, FAIL-ish?]
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#albedo x reader#albedo x you#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#writing#genshin impact
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but can we talk about how excited Dean is to have his brother back in the first episode???
he doesn't tell Sam it's him because he wants to spar with his baby brother. he tells Sam he doesn't wanna do this alone. he looks over at Sam while the girls in the diner are talking way before Sam looks at him, and then he looks again so that they're looking at each other.
it seems like he takes any excuse to touch Sam, even if it's just smacking him. he keeps asking if Sam wants anything to eat and offers to pay for it. he lets Sam know he's 'super' with a little ok hand because his baby brother's worried and he's gotta both reassure him and make him laugh.
he acts like a rejected date when Sam says he's gotta go home. "yeah. whatever, i'll take you home." like he's trying not to get into another argument but he still has hopes Sam'll say yes with that "we made a great team back there". and then pretends to believe Sam when he says he'll catch up later.
Dean's desperation in the pilot is just so obvious and endearing to me. i literally can't watch it and NOT think about how toxic and obsessive and controlling this man's gonna get, and think about finale Dean admitting he would drive by Stanford with John to check up on Sam, ESPECIALLY when he tells Sam "in two years i haven't bothered you once"
i just
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#i feel like Sam's signs are a lot more subtle in the pilot#like he's less 'oh i'm excited to do this' and more 'oh i'm remembering what it was like with my brother and what i was raised to do'#like falling back into familiar habits#it's SO apparent when he takes over the research#but mostly it's like#the banter#the arguments obviously#the apology leading to the iconic 'jerk bitch'#and his reluctance to go back inside. the way he stops when Dean says his name and looks hopeful himself#like maybe he can have both his brother and his safe life with the girl he plans to marry#but nope that's not possible#wincest#thoughts tag
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I have a fic idea and I dont know if I want to write it or not send help
#like I absolutely love the concept of it and I have yet to see anything similar in this fandom#which. I mean a lot of works are either incomplete since a month after the game came out#or theyre 400 word long oneshots. which is fine no hate towards those but my adhd cant handle reading anything shorter than 15k#but on the other hand like. the amount of research I put into my canon divergence/slight au fics#where I keep like 80% of canon the same but one thing is different? I do those a lot lately#which. might have to do with the things Im into being heavy on the âdoomed by the narrativeâ type of narrative yknow#but ghhhh I dont wanna research this game its so bad#like unironically I cant stand to watch a singular playthrough and considering how many moving pieces there are in the game like#like ok Im doing canon divergence in like. 2 months before That night. bc I dont buy that the camp is haunted and my psychic misses it#(the plot btw is that. because canon Has ghost. the Guy can now see ghosts. enter magic world building and interpersonal history#between a character I know next to nothing about. and an OC I know actually nothing about. despite me making that OC up)#and also the game takes place in america?? I havent been in america in over a decade I can name 5 states on a good day#hhghhhhh#sooo much research. so much. and for what. for a fanfic about dylan lenivy talking to ghosts#no actual plot yet either. except that I personally decided silas is like 12 and therefore dylan adopts him like immediately#...which. happens in several fic ideas I have in brain actually. none of the others are gonna be written bc theyre spinoffs on existing fic#but like. all I know abt the psychic au is that the crew arrive in their van first day of camp#dylan immediately clocks a ghost in his general vicinity and does a spit take so hard he chokes and immediately blows his own cover#then goes âthere were NO ghosts when I went to camp here wtf??â and talks to the ghost of one eliza vorez#she does the whole vengence etc etc thing obvs but then apparently. she and dylans grandma knew each other#yknow psychic moms gotta have a Network. so the vorez family does Moon Magicks of the future and die young always as is their burden#and the lenivy family does Sun Magicks of the past and live long fulfilling lives that are dedicated to others#so naturally dylan pulls whatever his grandma told him out of brain and goes âhey dont u have a kid. he ok?â and proceeds to commit adoptio#some more stuff abt the missing hikers and my headcanon that dylan straight up does not live in that state anymore ensue#and uh. idk. he helps eliza and the other ghosts fulfill unfinished business. then punches chris hackett in the face#and rescues max and laura well before anything bad happens to them bc its been like 2 days at most#and the ghosts haunt the hacketts collectively so they absolutely go âoh btw u should probably know ur boss also kidnaps pplâ#(dylan has. a Time. but thats true for every fic I write for this godawful game with terrible writing and great actors </3)
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â đđđđđđđ đđ
đ
đđđđ â
â BEING PROF. GETO'S T.A. IS SO HARD BECAUSE HE'S SO HOT!! â
⧠pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part two of the prof geto series)
⧠summary: you're now professor geto's t.a. for the semester, forced to spend time with the man that you so desperately want, either of you barely able to hold back when you're around the other, so what happens when you're forced to go to a conference with him...and there's only one bed.
⧠warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (mostly fantasy), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student in my mind, but age is vague, so much mutual pining, bed sharing, cuddling, masturbation (f + m), oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), semi public sex (sorta), office sex (kinda), amateur's take on moral philosophy and ethics, art by @/nino84391425
⧠wc: 16,821 (apparently i am writing a novel lol) | part one | part three | part four
âOn time for once?â Professor Suguru Geto remarks without looking up from his notes on the podium, even as your footsteps echo in the empty lecture hall, âcolor me surprised,âÂ
âCouldnât be late on my first day as a teacherâs assistant, now could I?â and his lips curl in that damnable smile, as he finally glances up from his notes to see you looking far too gorgeous in his button up â one you had oh so generously relieved him of last night, pilfered away in your bag seemingly.Â
âBut you could be late on your first day as a student?â and you lick your lips, as you draw closer to him, âseems like youâre quite the hypocrite, not very ethical,âÂ
âDonât think what we did last night was very ethical either,â you murmur, enjoying the way his dark eyes glaze over for a moment with the thoughts what you both did â the places touched, the moans heard, and the pleasure had â âplus, I definitely have an incentive to be on time now,â your fingers graze his, and why does his touch always feel like coming home.Â
âAnd whatâs that, sweetheart?â he murmurs, running the back of his hand against your cheek.Â
âYour gorgeous face,â you smile, leaning close as your lips brush, âand some stolen kisses before class,âÂ
âAnd what makes you think youâve earned them, my favorite student?â He teases, as his fingers slide to the back of your neck, and his other hand snakes around your waist, tugging you close.Â
âOh, I have a few ways to earn them, Professor,â your fingers drag down his chest, âbut I donât know if we have the time before class toââÂ
And his lips find yours â needy and bruising, as your fingers clutch at his shirt, the pressed fabric now definitely creased under your touch, âweâll make time,â he murmurs, as he leans back to drag his thumb down your plush lips, âI still have many things to teach you, and what time is there like the present?âÂ
Heâs leaning down to press a kiss to your lipsâÂ
RING. RING. RING.Â
Your eyes snap open, a groan crawls its way out of your throat, as you fumble for your phone to silence the dreaded ringing. You lie back on your bed, a distinct ache between your legs that makes you squirm, and only want to bury yourself back into your bed and possibly the reality that existed within only your dreams.Â
But this was sadly reality, and you had about two hours before your first class as a teacherâs assistant for Professor Suguru Getoâs ethics and moral philosophy class. And two hours before you would see Professor Geto for the first time since you had made out.Â
You turn over, pressing your face into your pillow. You wondered if you tried hard enough, if you could suffocate yourself before then.Â
Probably not. That would be far too lucky.Â
~~~
Professor Suguru Geto couldnât sleep â instead he spent his time staring at his ceiling, the blades of his fans spinning above him, just like his mind was â in circles. It was as if he almost didnât want to risk his dreams taunting him, it was the same reason he had buried himself in research over the semester break, the same reason he had put off emailing you the materials for the semester, and the same reason he hadnât seen you since that day you had kissed.Â
It was too much of a risk.Â
You were risk personified, even for a risk averse theologian he liked to think himself as. But you were the thing of myths, the dangled food for Tantalus, the far too warm sun for Icarus, and the promise of gold for King Midas. But you were not a myth â you were real, his student made of flesh and bone, the same flesh he had pressed into his desk just a few short weeks ago, his legs parting your thighs, his fingers itching to rip your pantyhose off your legsâÂ
He sighed, this wasnât helping â his bedside clock blinked back at him mockingly â he only had a few hours before his first class. He should try to sleep even a little. So he did, shutting his eyes, and hoped he wouldnât dream of you.Â
But he couldnât possibly be that lucky.Â
How many times have you stood in front of this office door? Your Professor, to which this office belongs, would joke that it was far too many to count â and youâd be better speculating how many times that Sisyphus rolled the boulder up the same hill. But the last time you had been in it was the thing that made you hesitate now.Â
But that was your entire relationship wasnât it? A game of chicken, wondering who would hesitate first â and neither of you were the type to hold back. Except when it came to this â except when it came to your feelings for the other.Â
You shake your head, trying to shake your anxious thoughts free of their eternal bounce around your skull, and grit your teeth before finally knocking.Â
âIâm actually right here,â a voice behind you says, making you jump, as you whip around, nearly pressed against his office door. And now you stood face to face with the man who owned it.
And how was it that every time you saw him, he was achingly more perfect than the time before? His ebony hair was half down, black locks brushing against his shoulders, the rest tied up in a neat bun. A crisp white button up underneath a neutral toned knit sweater vest, the shirt very much like the one you had stolen in your dream.Â
Perfect.Â
âProfessor Geto,â you offer a small smile, trying your best to keep your eyes on his, instead of drifting over his form, âitâs good to see you,âÂ
âItâs good to see you as well, and so prompt,â he says, brushing past you to unlock his office, âmade a habit of being on time these days?âÂ
âWell, when your professor reprimands you in front of the entire class, you try to make a habit of being on time,â why did it feel like your dream was repeating yet again? Itâs not as if your relationship with him wasnât cyclical enough â life imitating dreams was almost far too much. He opens the door for you, letting you enter first, before he follows you in, âand arenât you the late one this time?âÂ
His lips quirk, as he rounds his desk, and takes a seat, âYou really canât make it a conversation with me without giving me shit, huh?âÂ
âLanguage,â you chide, as you sit across from him, ânot very appropriate for an academic setting,â and you have to bite back the want to say that youâve done plenty of inappropriate things in this office the last time you both were here.Â
âWell, our track record isnât known for being very appropriate, now is it?â Or maybe you didnât need to say it, because the way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. But that didnât mean either of you would act on it. He licked his lips, mouth parted to say something, his gaze heavy.Â
And the moment is broken when his email goes off â you squeeze your bag a little tighter, as you busy yourself with digging through your bag for the materials to go over. That sound was nearly traumatizing in this office, not only did it usually signal the start of some assignment you had to trudge your way through â it also was the sound that had ended your relationship before it even really began.Â
âClass starts in an hour, so I thought we could have this meeting just to review the syllabus and see if you have any questions â as well as just overall any questions you had about being a T.A.,â he explains, pressing his pen to his lips, âI understand this is your first time being a T.A.?âÂ
âIt is, I hadnât really considered it until the department head approached me about that,â and he nods, a flash of emotion that surfaces for only a moment before dissipating, âwhat will my responsibilities be?âÂ
âGood question,â a smile pulls the corners of his lips, âobviously, as a T.A., you will have office hours that you can decide with your own discretionââÂ
âSo itâs okay if I have them once a month at 3:00 AM?â and he rolls his eyes as you bite your lip at the sight â why was everything he did so effortlessly attractive?Â
Fucking unfair.Â
âWitching hour, how apt,â he murmurs, as he tilts his head, âbut they should be weekly, as Iâm sure you know, and held not in the middle of the night, when nights should be used for other things,â and you have to bite back your reply, like what?Â
And then he continues to explain, âYou can also help with some grading â mostly entering grades online for me since you know I love to handgrade,âÂ
âOh yes, truly enjoyed having my self-esteem cut to shreds after receiving a paper back,â you scribbled notes down in your notebook, âglad I wonât be on the receiving end this time,âÂ
âIf youâre good, that is,â and you knew it slipped from his lips â from the way his lips parted, the way his body froze for half a second as if he had shocked himself â and he had, because the spark between you two remained, a weed stubbornly cracking through concrete, âsorryââÂ
âYou donât have apologize,â you shake your head, waving him off, âitâs really fine,âÂ
âItâs not,â he said softly, placing the syllabus down on the desk, âI know we agreed to keep our relationship professional,âÂ
âWe did,â Yes, you both did â sort of.Â
âAnd I want us to do thatââÂ
And you ask the question you werenât brave enough to ask the last time you two had seen each other, âWhy is that again?âÂ
When the email had come, it was as if a spell had broken â the rosy colored lenses had come off, only to leave the hard glare of reality behind. Your limbs still entangled while you both reread the email off of his screen â as if it would say something different the millionth time over.Â
It didnât.Â
And then the awkward clamor of disengaging, slow limbs pulling apart, as the warmth of his embrace left as quickly as it had come. Silence as the two of you let the news settle in, like a noose tightening around your necks, and you slowly slid off his desk.Â
âIf Iâm your T.A.,â you had said slowly, adjusting the skirt of your dress, âwe canât do this, can we?â and he had only nodded, his gaze unable meet yours, fixed to the rug on the floor of his office, and he could only muster two words as you brushed past him and gathered your thingsâ
âIâm sorry.âÂ
But even so, you couldnât remember why it was a bad idea? Why was it so wrong for the two of you to do this? What difference did it make that you were his T.A.? It was still against the rules either way â it was still unethical either way â so why, why did it matter?Â
But he knew why, from the way his brow creased with lines and his lips pursed and the way his eyes yet again couldnât quite reach yours â as if youâd spot something in them that he didnât want to see.Â
âBecause weâre going to working together all semester long, with students in class who will see us each week,â he licked his lips, leaning back in his chair, âbecause it was already problematic if we saw each other without any classes or connection, but now â if youâre my T.A. and my girlfriend, how would I even properly supervise you?â and he swallows, adamâs apple bobbing as he blows air through his teeth, before his voice grows softer, âhow would I focus on guiding you and our students if Iâm too busy gazing into your eyes or staring at your lips or wanting toââ he cuts himself off, âyou know itâs not a good idea, most of our students probably wouldnât notice, but rumors spread and it takes one good rumor to ruin your career,â and he adds, âwith how things work, you donât need me to tell you why it would be worse for you than me, even if I tried to take responsibility,âÂ
And you did know, knew very well that rumors got out that the two of you were together that nothing would happen to his reputation â perhaps he would be scrutinized a bit more, some judgment and side-eye from other professors and higher ups, but he wouldnât get vilified like you would. Called a slut or a whore â and those would be some of the kinder names youâd be called, and you canât imagine what it would do for your career, especially if you stay in academia. And then the rumors would fester and grow, more wondering where your grades came from â whether you had obtained them through honeyed words whispered over pillows and rumpled sheets instead through late nights spent at your desk and weekends practically living at the library.Â
âI do know,â you said quietly. But it didnât mean you wanted to do it anymore than you had that day. A part of you wished he had stopped you when you had turned to leave his office, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you into his armsâbut this was hardly a romance novel, âand youâre right,âÂ
He still has his gaze fixed anywhere but your face, settling his syllabus on his desk now, the silence familiarly filling the room yet again, muscles tense if your body didnât know whether to flee or to draw closer.Â
So you did neither, and instead broke the silence.Â
âSo would T.A.-ing provide an opportunity for me to teach the class?â and he blinks, eyes snapping up now, as a glimpse of sadness slips away behind his now thoughtful expression.Â
âWould you want to do that? I donât know if I could allow you to lead an entire class, only because some students may take some issue with another grad student teaching themââÂ
âI donât blame them with the tuition costs,â you mutter, and he nods, âdonât nod, itâs your salary Iâm paying for,âÂ
He laughs, a noise you wished you could bottle because you knew itâd be the same as bottling happiness, âWell worth your money after how much your writing and understanding of moral philosophy and ethics has improved,â and you roll your eyes.Â
âI see your ego is the same as ever,â and his lips curl, as he crosses his legs, and you fight the cruel temptation of your gaze flickering a little downward.Â
âWell, Kant did say an ego is necessary to understand the world meaningfully and therefore act in a moral way,â you tilt your head, being defensive with philosophy? That was a new one.Â
But you werenât one to let things go â as he very well knew.Â
âAnd he also said that an ego can lead you astray from living a moral life if we become too self absorbed,â and he raises an eyebrow.Â
âAre you calling me self absorbed?âÂ
You bite back a laugh, âWell, you are certainly self interested,â and you gesture around his office, âlook at this office,âÂ
âWhat about my office?â he gapes at you, and you snort, youâve seemingly struck a nerve by how wide his jaw dropped.Â
âItâs a littleâŚpretentious,â and dare you say it, your professor had a touch of pink painted across his cheekbones and the tips of his ears,Â
God heâs even pretty when he blushes.Â
âIâm just teasing Professor,â and then you add, âitâs one of my more tedious qualities,âÂ
And he blinks, before his lips curl in the smile you never tired of seeing, ânot tedious, more irritating,âÂ
You chuckle, before trying to get back on topic, âSo you think you could work out me teaching a part of the class?âÂ
And he nods, âLet me discuss it with the department head â it should be fine,â
âDo I have any other responsibilities?âÂ
âIf it doesnât conflict with your schedule, you can also attend some classes, students can stay after and ask you questions as well,â and you nod, looking over his class times in the syllabus.Â
âI can make the Tuesday one,â and he makes a note, as you rise, âwe should go. Donât want to be late for the first class now do we?âÂ
And he smiles the same damnable smile, âThat would be a terrible first impression,â and his shoulder brushes yours as he opens his office door for you, âafter you,âÂ
God, you thought as you stepped past him, the warmth from the brush of his body still there, this was going to be a long semester.Â
If there was one thing you had learned from being a teacherâs assistant for Professor Getoâs class, it was that the students were even more desperate for your professorâs attention than you had thought. You thought your introduction had went relatively well â besides the pointed glares of severalâŚ.enthusiastic students.Â
After his detailed overview of the class, he reaches the resources section of the course syllabus, âNow, I am available at my listed office hours, in which you can make an appointment online. Thereâs also tutoring services through the university listed as well. And lastly, we have a T.A. for this class, for the very first time,â and he smiles, âClass, please meet your T.A. for this semester,â Professor Geto says your name and gestures to you, sat up in the corner of the lecture hall, and you stand, waving, âyour T.A. took this very class last semester and showed great grit and dedication in the class assignments,â you have to stop yourself from shooting him a look, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips, âShe is also a philosophy student, so please, feel free to reach out to her,âÂ
âThank you Professor Geto for thatâŚgenerous introduction,â your pause was slight enough that he caught it, a smile tucked behind an all too fake cough, âI really look forward to working with you all â this class truly had a great impact on my perspective about the world,â and you catch a flicker of an emotion ripple across his face out of the corner of your eye, âmy office hours will be posted soon, and I hope we can get to know each other well over the course of this semester.âÂ
You sit as the students cast their gaze forward again, and the class continues on as usual. You make use of your time by reading for some of your other classes, until class was over.Â
And thatâs when you really learned something. As requested, you joined Professor Geto at the bottom of the lecture hall to help field questions from the students.Â
Except, the students were far more interested in Professor Geto than they were in the course material.Â
But maybe it was simply because it was the beginning of the semester right? It couldnât happen again right?Â
It was a good thing you werenât getting graded because you would earned yourself a zero. As again, the next week, students were only interested in Professor Geto â whether it was because it was for his intellect or â you glanced at the students mooning over him â something else.Â
Something you knew very well.Â
You were forced to watch a female student flutter her eyelashes, then another brush against him, as she showed him what passage was confusing her, and then another student couldnât stop staring at his lips. And then you wonder, if it had been another student who kept pestering him week after week, would it have been them instead of you? Would they have shared those moments together? Maybe even they would actually gotten to be in a relationship, instead of watching other people flirt with himâ
âExcuse me,â your eyes snap up from your reverie and you see two students, seemingly waiting to speak to you.Â
Those students had seemingly taken pity on you and spoke to you about the class, tips, and asked about your office hours. But soon enough, the students filed out one by one until it was just you and Professor Geto. And heâs collecting his things, as he glances at you, lingering still as you check your email on your phone, âDonât you have class after this?âÂ
You blink, âhowâd you know that?âÂ
And heâs straightening his notes to place back in his bag, before he turns to look at you over his shoulder, âwell youâd always rush off after class so it was either you had class or you didnât want to be alone with me,â he looks back to his bag and you hear the click of the zipper, âI was hoping it would be the former,â he adds.Â
âWell, I never lingered after class when I was taking it either,â you adjust your bag, toying with the strap â why was it anytime you were with him it felt like stepping into quicksand, the more you struggled, the more you sunk â and even if you didnât move at all, you were still stuck all the same, âdidnât want to get in the way your students stroking your ego,âÂ
And he raises an eyebrow, âAre we back to my ego again?âÂ
âI donât see you shying away from smiles and praise from your students,â and his brow knits together, as he places his bag down on the podium, âno wonder your ego is so large,âÂ
âWhat students?âÂ
âOh please, the ones swarming your desk after clsss. Didnât you ever wonder why so many students from different disciplines take your class?â he opens his mouth and then you add, âand donât say philosophy and ethics apply to every aspect of life,âÂ
And then he seems to consider the thought, as before his lips curl, as he leans against the podium.Â
âAm I detecting some jealousy?â he smirks, and you pause before you scoff â far too quickly.Â
âNo,â and he only smiles wider.Â
He chuckles, âThat was convincing. Iâm glad your ability to teach is much better than your ability to lie,âÂ
âIâm notââÂ
âJealous or not,â and you have to bite back your retort, his gaze freezing you in place, a softness you hated to see â because you didnt know whether it made you want to push him away or pull him close, âthereâs only ever been one student who caught my eyes,âÂ
Ah, there is was â you were sinking again.Â
âReally?â you mumble, crossing your arms, ânot even one other? You have a habit of unethical behavior for an ethics professor,âÂ
Heâs grabbing his bag, before heâs taking a step forward to whisper, âOnly when it comes to you,â and you have to force yourself not shiver at his words warming your skin, âIâll see you next week,âÂ
And heâs gone â as you stand in the empty lecture hall next to the podium, the very one from your first dreamâ and youâre right back where you started.Â
Professor Suguru Geto wasnât the type to make mistakes. He was always meticulous and methodical â he used the very principles to help guide his life â because it gave him a moral framework, a way to interpret the world and his own actions. Thatâs what had drawn him to ethics in the first place. But then he met you.Â
And it seems like heâs made nothing but mistakes since.Â
He sat in his office after he practically fled the classroom, forcing his pace to be normal, hoping you didnât see the flush on his face. Fuck, he tossed the pen he had picked up to start grading away, what was he doing?Â
He had told himself it was for the best â again and again when he watches you leave at the end of the last semester. He held his muscles taut as he watched you gather your things, stepping over the crushed pieces of both of your hearts. The two words he had barely choked were the only ones he could manage before he watched his office door shut behind you.Â
It was for the best. It was for the best. It was for the best.Â
That sentence was on repeat in his mind as he tried to work on his paper over the break â âtryâ being the operative word. It felt as if even his work hadn't been untouched by you â your impact widespread and all consuming â just as your actual touch was.Â
Fuck, he rakes his fingers through his hair, how was he going to survive this week much less this semester?Â
He couldnât afford to be selfish â for your sake and his own. But it didnât mean he didnât want to be. He runs a hand over his face â he all but blatantly admitted that he had feelings for you after class. After promising to keep things professional â he was the worst.Â
He only wished he was worse enough to do what you both wanted when you asked him in his office why you both couldnât be together. He wanted to tell you the reasons why you should be â because he couldnât stop thinking about you despite never seeing you over the break, his heart nearly stopped when he saw you standing in front of his office, and because he couldnât help but smile when he could see you hesitating in front of the door â but he couldnât help but smile when it came to you. But he didnât.Â
He couldnât.Â
But he also couldnât help but toe that damn line in the sand, the one that he had drawn, but the one so desperately wanted to cross.Â
And then there was a knock at his door, he sighs, âCome in,âÂ
The department head enters his office, as Suguru blinks before he gets to his feet to offer his hand, as they exchange greetings, before gesturing for him to sit, âTo what do I owe the pleasure?âÂ
âI saw your email about having your T.A. teach part of your class, and I wanted to get a little more detail about it,â Suguru nods, his face composed, but his body tense â paranoia scratching at the back of his mind, no one happened to see them kiss had they? No one was on campus really at that point. And the door was closed â he probably just wanted more information. Â
âWhat questions did you have?â and the department head runs down his list â what topic would you cover? How much class time would it take? Would he be asking the class first? Would he review your materials beforehand?Â
âWell, you both seemed to have thought a lot about this,â he leans back, crossing his leg over the other, âI think having her teach a part of a class is fine, but I would like you both to do it sooner rather than later,â and Suguru opens his mouth, but then he adds, âand Iâd like to attend that class,âÂ
Suguru tilts his head, âYou would like to attend my class?â He considers his words carefully, âI was under the impression, based on the rules, the only thing needed to allow a T.A. to teach was the approval of the department head,â his anxiety begins to pick away at his nerves, âitâs not unusual for a T.A. to teach here correct?âÂ
It was his first time having a teacherâs assistant at this university so perhaps this was a quality check? To ensure both you and him were meeting the standards of the university â and his anxiety added, and to make sure no rules were being broken by either of you.Â
âYes, itâs not unusual, and I have my reasons which Iâll discuss with you after the class,â he checks the time and rises from his seat now, âI have another meeting soon â do you think she can present in two weeks?âÂ
Suguru hesitates, âIâll have to ask her but most likely that should be fine,âÂ
âOkay please send an email ccâing her and confirm the details,â he says his goodbyes, and heâs gone, as Suguru sits and considers this â what could he be planning?Â
Or, his nerves add, what could he be looking for?Â
Either way, he pulled up your email â it was going to be an interesting two weeks.Â
âDeontology determines whether an action is right or wrong based on a set of rules and principles instead of the consequences of the actions,â you speak to an empty lecture hall, your voice echoing in the silence, âtherefore an act that isnât morally good can lead to a good outcome,âÂ
You had come into the lecture hall to practice yet again this week. You were cursing your past self for inflicting this optional task on yourself â it had taken far more time than you had expected (whatâs new?), taken far more preparation than you thought (again, of course), and now had the fun added pressure of the department head attending. And why was he attending? A wonderful and complete mystery.Â
The last two weeks have been amazing for your mental health, truly.Â
You were lucky the lecture hall and the building at large was deserted at 8:00 PM â all of the staff and students had all but fled, and you were left with the perfect place to practice. It had been many nights of honing your presentation to the allotted time, leaving time to pose a thought exercise, time to discuss, and for questions.Â
You donât see the door behind you open, nor do you hear it close, as you use the clicker to go through your PowerPoint, switching to the next slide.Â
âFor example, killing an intruder, based on the consequence would be wrong, as I hope we all know killing is wrong â otherwise, I worry about what will happen when you get your grades back,â you give a brief chuckle â and hope some of the students would pity you with some laughs, and thatâs when you hear a small laugh behind you.Â
Your head snaps around, flushing when you see Professor Geto standing by the door. Heâs wearing a deep royal purple button up and gray slacks, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms.Â
God, this wasnât a dream was it?Â
âDonât let me stop you,â he says, his footsteps against the floor grew closer, and your body tenses, until they stop, âgo on,â and he leans against the wall behind you.Â
âBut when you do kill an intruder to protect your family, thatâs viewed as right under deontology,â and you canât focus with his gaze running over you, an all familiar feeling settled over you. Would life imitate dreams again? Would he come over and ask you to continue your presentation as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder? Would heâÂ
âAre you okay?â he asks, and you canât meet his gaze, but you hear his footsteps, âshould I go?âÂ
âNo, no, itâs just,â you shake your head, âa little deja vu,âÂ
He raises an eyebrow, âdeja vu?âÂ
Your blood runs cold. Fuck.Â
âI donât recall you ever presenting like this in my clsss before,â you can't decide if his voice is more thick with confusion or curiosity.Â
âYeah, no, sorry itâs nothing,â you brush him off, your eyes fixed on your notes on the podium, and you know heâs still staring, âwhat?âÂ
âI see youâre still not a very good liar,â and you scoff, âwhat is it thatâs gotten you so bothered?âÂ
âNothing,â you insist.Â
âThe more you say that, the less Iâm convinced,â and now heâs walking closer, closer still â but youâre fixed in place, âwhat is it?â
âYou never let anything go, do you?â And you turn, your breath catching when you saw how close he was â inches from you, his pretty eyes wide at the sudden movement, his breath warming your lips. Black strands fall in his face, and you have to stop yourself from tucking them behind his ear. Stop yourself from wanting to touch him, stop yourself from wanting him to lean forward, stop yourself from wanting him.Â
Nothing good ever came from your want.Â
âOnly when itâs you,â but this man makes it impossible not to want him. Not when his voice is soft, not when the back of his finger, a knuckle brushes against your cheek. And no words are needed â you can hear it in the silence between you both, you feel it in the gentleness of his touch, and in the softness of his gaze.Â
And you know youâre in love with him. You are.
But you canât be.Â
âIâm not telling you,â you murmur, looking away â and it seems to break the spell, as he steps back, nodding, a flicker of sadness that slips away under his facade, âbut maybe I will sometime, over a drink,â you add.Â
A smile tugs at his lips, âWell we know how well that went, or didnât go rather, and you know, we canât anytime soon,âÂ
âWell sometimes an action that isnât morally good can lead to a good outcome,â and he raises an eyebrow.Â
âUsing deontology to convince me?â He tilts his head, ânot a bad strategy â maybe Iâll have you write a paper,âÂ
âAnd willingly subject myself to your red pen? No thanks,â and he snorts, before the smile fades into a frown, brow wrinkled in thought, âwhat is it?âÂ
âNothing, Iâm justâŚâ he crossss his arms, âIâm wondering why the department head wants to observe your presentation,âÂ
âHe didnât give any indication why?â and he shakes his head, âmaybe he just wants to evaluate how good a job youâre doing,â you add, âyou are relatively green,âÂ
âNot that green,â and you see his lips pressed together â and is he? â he was â he was pouting. You bite your lip how fucking adorable â but you know youâd be met with a scowl if you said that out loud, âdonât you worry that the dean may suspect something between us?âÂ
The thought had crossed your mind, but class had been nothing but professional so far, and youâd be too busy sweating bullets (and perhaps dodging them from the students if the presentation went poorly) to even consider your feelings for him.Â
You sigh, âLook, nothing to do but get through it, right? It should be fine, weâll deal with whatever comes after. As long as I donât choke, and you donât stare at me too adoringly, we should be fine,âÂ
And you expect a retort, a cheeky reply, or even a quite sarcastic one, but he only gives a small smile, âRight,â
You feel your cheeks burn and you canât meet his gaze again without feeling your heart flutter.Â
Fuck â maybe there was something to worry about.Â
Despite the concerns, the presentation goes off without a hitch. You spot the dean sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, pen and notepad in hand, which did nothing to soothe your poor heart (nor did the far too many cups of coffee and the total lack of sleep).Â
It happened quick â a blur of speaking, forcing yourself to slow your words down, a necessity when presenting â as you knew you always spoke faster than you believed you did when presenting. You think you even made the students laugh a few times, led an interesting thought experiment with a rousing debate that ended with no clear answer (as always), and then you answered questions.Â
All the while, Professor Geto stood in the back, and youâd catch a glimpse of him by the corner of your eye, his lips curled in that smile that haunted all your nights and days.Â
By the time it was done, you had barely realized time had gone so quickly, as you passed the metaphorical baton back to Geto. And you took a seat off to the side, opting to watch him lecture, rather than busy yourself with other work.Â
It felt like old times, you thought, as you watched him speak. You couldnât blame the people that took his class just to watch him speak â he was unfairly beautiful when he spoke, gesticulating as he read a Kant quote. And you kept your face as neutral as possible, but he catches your eye for a moment, corner of his lip twitching upwards. And a flush settles over your cheeks, as you discreetly press your thighs together, trying to look suddenly engrossed with your notebook.Â
Your heart ached as much as your body did. You wanted to walk over and just kiss him, swallow his smart words along with his gasp, and feel those hands run along your body. You wanted to know every thought in his head, every part of his day, and fall asleep beside him.Â
You glance up to see him still speaking â a black strand falling in his face. You bite your lip, before looking back down.Â
This man would be the death of you â and it was even worse being alone with him. Youâre thankful that your T.A. check-ins with him were every other week, because you couldnât imagine having to spend more than an hour with him every other week.Â
âYou want us to do what?â You blink at the Dean, his lips curled in a smile, his hands tucked into his pockets.Â
âApologies for all the secrecy, I did not receive confirmation about this until earlier today,â he explains, âbut I want you two to attend this conference on ethics and philosophy â itâs over the weekend, two weekends from now. It would be a wonderful opportunity for the both of you to make connections and attend presentations, as well as mingle with prospective students. It would also afford us an opportunity for both of you to help put our university on the map,âÂ
You glance at Professor Geto, his lips parted in surprise, âSir, is it appropriate for a male professor and aââÂ
âDonât worry, the accommodations will be separate and itâs a public event, as long as everything remains professional, thereâs no problem, right? As long as you two are okay with it and thereâs no problem,â he glances between the two of you, âis there a problem?âÂ
And Professor Getoâs eyebrows knit together. It was a lose-lose situation â saying no meant raising some suspicions that there was an issue between the two of you, but saying yes meant going on a trip with the same professor you had kissed at the end of the last semester. And if anything happened on this trip...it could be very bad â ethically and otherwise.Â
So you make the decision for both of you.Â
âThatâs fine. Iâm happy to attend if Professor Geto is,â and you know you have no choice â you had to spend the weekend with him, alone. At a conference. In a hotel.
âDo you have everything?â Professor Geto asks, as you hand him your suitcase, your fingers brushing as you do. He lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car, his black t-shirt riding up as he does, a quick flash of the expanse of his musclesâ
Fuck, you bite your lip, stop, stop. Professor. Heâs a professor.Â
It didnât matter that you had felt him part your thighs, as his lips slid against yours, nor that every time you saw each other, you felt this undeniable ache to touch him, comfort him, hug him, nor that you knew he felt the same and wanted to give in as badly as you didâ
No, it didnât matter.Â
You consider his question, scrunching up your face in thought, âI think so, wait,â you snap your fingers as he glances at you, âforgot the rest of my apartment upstairs â you think thatâll fit in there too?âÂ
He smirks, rolling his eyes as shuts the trunk, âHa, ha, ever consider becoming a comedian instead of a philosophy major?â
âEvery day, but then I think what would my favorite professor do without me?âÂ
He raises an eyebrow, âIâm your favorite?âÂ
âWho said it was you?â you grin at him, as he shakes his head and you open the passenger door seat and slide in, as he slips into the driverâs seat. He adjusts his mirrors, buckling his seatbelt, as a sudden wave of guilt bombards you. You had dragged him down this rabbit hole with you â and now the two of you had to spend the entire weekend together, alone.Â
You lick your far too dry lips, âSorry if I roped you into this,â you fidget with your phone, tapping on the screen absentmindedly.Â
He starts the car, engine roaring underneath your feet, before he glances at you, brow furrowed in seeming confusion, âWhat? Itâs not you that roped us into this,âÂ
You purse your lips, âBut if I didnât agree to itââÂ
He sighs, âWe were in a position where we didnât have much of a choice,â his fingers drum against the steering wheel, as his eyes flicker to make sure your seatbelt was on, âitâs not your fault â and itâs not a bad thing â weâll spend time at the conference, weâll mingle, and then return to our hotel rooms,â he adds, âdonât worry. Nothing will happen.âÂ
And his reassurance is almost a punch to the gut instead â and your brain chides you for being so childish â you knew it was for the best, you knew it was the right thing to do, and you knew he was trying what was best for you, and for him.Â
But why did it hurt so goddamn much?Â
You steal a glance at him as he pulls into the street and begins to drive, dark gaze forward, his hair tied into its usual neat bun, and a chain poked out from underneath the rounded opening around his neck. And then your eyes flicker back out the window. Â
Was it really not a big deal to him?Â
Because the last two weeks were consumed with nothing, but thoughts of being alone with him. Days spent in conferences, sitting beside each other, whispering thoughts and inside jokes; evenings spent socializing together, waiting for the other to give the signal to leave; and nights walking back to your rooms, fingers brushing as you walked beside each other. You were sure it would take a slight bend of the rules, a gaze that lingers a little too long, to break the paper thin resistance either of you had to the other. The two of you could barely be alone for more than a few minutes without temptation rearing its ugly head â even now your eyes canât help but trace the curve of his jaw, the way the sunlight catches his eyes, the way your fingers want nothing more than intertwine with his hand that rests on the console between you two.Â
But you donât. You give a weak smile, glancing out the window as the streets of Tokyo pass you by â âYeah it should be fine.âÂ
Just fine.Â
âThere was a problem with your reservation,âÂ
And after half an hour of waiting off to the side, with your luggage stacked up and irritation creeping its way to a new high as you watched others easily being checked in to the hotel, you assumed there was a problem. If there wasnât a problem, you would wonder if this was a new take on Waiting for Godot that would end with the both of youu sleeping in the lobby. You rubbed at your temples, as Geto dealt with the hotel staff, his arms crossed, lips a tight line, âthe hotel double booked one of your rooms, so we only have one room available for you.â Â
You barely heard the rest of the argument your professor had with the hotel staff, the same phrase ringing in your ears â one room, one room, one room. With nothing more to argue about, they finally escorted you both to your room in awkward silence. And as they opened the door, you spotted it â there was only one single queen sized bed.Â
One. Bed.Â
You felt your cheeks flush, as you couldnât even meet Getoâs eyes, as he began to speak heatedly with the manager again. And the excuses began, as the manager wrung his hands, about how no other rooms being available due to the conference and another event happening in town.Â
âThere is a couch though,â he offers, pointing to a far too small couch, and the sharp glare that Geto gave him would put even his red pen to shame, âwe will see about comping halfââ Geto crosses his arms, âall of your stay here,â and with that, heâs gone.Â
âSo,â you sigh, glancing at Geto, with a strained smile, âI have dibs on the bed?âÂ
Was this a cosmic joke? You wondered as you turned off the water of the shower, squeezing your eyes shut. Was this a version of ethical karma for what you had done last semester? An ultimate ethical test that you would surely fail? A fucking prank show?Â
You didnât know. You dried off and got dressed, pulling on a t-shirt and shorts, your hair still damp, as you took a breath and stepped out, towel slung over your shoulders.Â
Geto was still on the phone, pacing back and forth â he was trying to call other hotels to see if there was anywhere else with two rooms or at least a room with two beds.
âYes I understand itâs very last minuteââ he sighs for what must have been the billionth time today, âyes, there was a mistake at the hotel Iâm staying atâyes, ok, well, thank you,â he hangs up, setting his phone down.Â
âNo luck?â You sit on the edge of the bed, wiping your hair, and he shakes his head.Â
âThe one thing they were right about is that every hotel room is booked solid â not only is our conference in town, but thereâs a physical science consortium happening as well,â he rakes his fingers through his hair, a few strands coming loose, âIâll have to give the Dean a call to update him on the situation,âÂ
You nod, âSo what should we do about sleeping?â And he canât quite meet your gaze, âare there no trundle or rollaway beds?âÂ
âNo, apparently those have all been spoken for,â he grumbles, and he prepares to call the dean, âIâll take the couch, you can have the bedââÂ
âProfessor, we canââ and his gaze snaps to you, âwe can shareââÂ
âNo, we canât,â he says softly, âyou know we canât do that,âÂ
âWeâre both adultsââÂ
âAnd weâre still a professor and a student,â he draws the line between you two again, the gash even deeper than before, the gap thatâs meant to keep you safe â the chase meant to protect you â so why did it feel more like a punishment? âIâll take the couch,â and he calls the Dean to update him on the situation.Â
You busy yourself with drying your hair in the bathroom, before coming back out to see him hanging up the phone.Â
âWell, are we in an ethical bind or should I go sleep in the lobby just to show thereâs no funny business?â And he shoots you a look, âthere have been stranger bedfellows,â and he opens his mouth, âand a single word comes out of your mouth, and Iâll join you on that couch,âÂ
And a very pretty flush adorns the tips of his ears and cheeks, âHe said it was fine, it was out of our control, but to just document everything, including the hotelâs incompetence for legality reasons,âÂ
âYouâre also a lawyer as well as a professor?âÂ
âYou have to hedge your bets,â he shrugs with a smile pulling at his lips, before he checks the time, âIâm going to take a shower,â he sighs, pulling his hair from the messy bun, letting his black locks down. And you watch him run his fingers through his hair again, sighing, as he heads into the shower.Â
You lay on the bed, biting your lip â as you turn over to use your phone, as the shower turns on. And you glance at the closed door â the thought of him in there, pulling his shirt over his head, shedding his pants and boxers. Your cheeks burn, burying your face in your pillow as if that would help (it did not).Â
You curl up on the bed, turning away from the bathroom door, using your phone. And a few minutes pass, as you kind of drift off into sleep, and you hear a creak of the bathroom door open that rouses you from sleep. You donât move at first but you hear shuffling, the sounds of a zipper. You finally turn on your other side, eyes fluttering open, and youâre met with the sight of bare skin.Â
You blink, eyes flickering up to see your Professorâs flushed face, before your eyes slowly following a bead of water slip down his bare chest, black hair dotting along the middle of his chest and abs, down to a happy trail that was hidden by a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothes in his hand, and your eyes find his own, your lips parted and mouth impossibly dry.Â
Oh. My. God.Â
âUhââ and his cheeks flare red, as you try your best not to let your eyes flicker downward, âI forgot my clothesââ and you turn away, as he darts back into the bathroom, âIâm sorry,â he says, muffled through the door.Â
âItâs okay!â You reply, your heart thumping against your ribcage, squeezing your eyes shut to only be met the memory of his bare torso, âfuck,â you mumble under your breath, as you turn onto your back, and stare at the spinning ceiling fan above you. A distinct ache below at the thought of him.Â
Your eyes flickered to the shut bathroom door. You hear the sound of water running again â maybe he needed to wash up again. Either way, you slid under the comforter, hand slipping into your shorts, you had some time. You wish you could have grabbed his hand before he fled into the bathroom, sat up on your knees, fingers sliding to his cheek.Â
âKiss me,â youâd murmur, and he would, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips sweetly, as your fingers glide up his bare chest. Youâd swallow his gasp with delight, as your other hand finds his wet locks, fingers tangling in his black locks, âplease,â you would guide his fingers to the hem of your shirt and he would oblige, lifting up and over your head. And your fingers would tug his towel away, letting it fall to the ground.Â
Your fingers press against the wet patch on your underwear, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you gasp, imagining it was instead his eager fingers that tugged your shorts down. You sunk one finger in and then another, pumping slowly, and you knew he would get you ready for him. He would fuck you with his thick fingers, as his mouth latched to your clit, sucking gently as he fucked you open. You moaned his name softly, as you imagine his fingers stretching you open.Â
âDo you want me, my pretty girl?â He would murmur between your thighs, lips glossy with your release, âsâgood for me, taste as good as you look,â and he would press your back gently into the mattress as he would meet your lips again before, rubbing the tip of his cock against your puffy lips, âtell me what you want, Princess,âÂ
âPlease,â you whispered, as you moved your fingers faster, adding a third finger, but you know his cock would feel so much thicker, and reach so much deeper, âfuck me,âÂ
And he would, sinking into you, his pretty cock parting your folds, his quiet grunts and moans whispering in your ear, as he works himself inside to the hilt. His lips would find yours as he would rock his hips into you â your cunt would flutter around his length. He would press your thighs apart further, long fingers digging into your soft flesh, the wet squelch of your cunt and the sounds of his skin slapping against yours would ring in your ears.
âSâclose, Suguâfuck,â you would keen against him, instead of your fingers, âplease,â and his thumb would find your clit, just as yours did, and you would cum all over his cock, squeezing around his length, as he sinks even deeper, until his tip is brushing against your cunt. The moan of his name slips out, as you press your forearm against your mouth to barely stifle it.Â
Fuck, you come down from your high, panting. And you glance at the bathroom door, thinking youâll clean up once he gets out. You roll over in bed, as you pulled the pillow over your face.Â
This was going to be a long weekend.Â
Suguru lingers in the bathroom for far too long after that, the embarrassment of the moment still far too fresh in his mind, his cheeks still a dusty pink at the thought. Not only was it bad enough that he was trapped in this hotel room with you for an entire weekend, but now he had paraded out practically half naked for you to see.Â
Fuck his life.Â
He had hurried into the shower if only to get a break from being in the same room as you. It had been hard enough to endure the last few weeks as a T.A., but now he had to spend an entire weekend sharing a hotel room â and deal with situations like that one all weekend. Seeing you emerge from the bathroom, only in a t-shirt and shorts, still damp from your shower â wet hair in messy tangles that he wanted to run his fingers throughâ and thatâs why he excused himself to the bathroom. A reprieve if only for a moment. If he had only remembered to bring his clothes into the shower â he wouldnât have had to finish his shower, with only his discarded clothes to wear that had slipped off the clothes rack and onto the damp floor.Â
He had stepped out, towel around his waist, as he peeled out, only to see your back to him, the sounds of soft breathing told him you were asleep. And he crept out, silently cursing as the door creaked and rifled through his suitcase for clothes. He had found them, and gone to retreat back when you roused and turned all at once.Â
God, he sighed, it was such a mess.Â
But the way you looked at himâŚlips parted, gaze flicking across his body, the way your eyes lingered a little too long on his torso â and now he had an entirely different problem.Â
His cock tented against the towel, as his eyes slid to the bathroom door. What if he just hopped into the shower for a second again? The towel dropped to the floor, as he steps back into the shower, turning on the water.Â
He groans, his fingers slide over his mortifyingly hard erection, teasing his slit as he would imagine you would, as you would open the bathroom door, murmuring his name, âProfessor? Are you okay?â And you wouldnât wait for his answer as you stepped into the shower with him, eyes raking down his body, a teasing grin on your lips, ânot very ethical is that?â And your fingers would curl their way around the base of his cock, making him shudder with pleasure, âI can take care of that,â and you would kiss down his chest and stomach, even despite his protests, until you reached where he wanted your touch most.Â
And god, you would look so pretty on your knees for him, as your fingers pumped him far too slowly, teasing him with a chaste kiss to his tip, tongue dragging against his slit, better than how his thumb did, âsâgood for me, Professor,â youâd say, when you heard the hiss he just let out, âI wonder what other sounds you could make for me,â and your lips would close around his tip, sucking lightly, as he gasped, his other hand clasped over his mouth, muffling his sounds.Â
He would look down with half lidded eyes, and see your head bobbing as you took him so well, your fingers toying with his balls, spotting your eyes flicking up to meet his â glazed over and desperate, just he imagined his were. Your mouth would feel so much better than his hand, the wet squelch of his pumping would not compare to you swallowing around him, sucking and licking around his length, his pre-cum and your drool slipping down the corner of your mouth.Â
Youâd swallow around him, as his fingers would slide into your hair. And maybe you would let him fuck your mouth, hips rolling slowly as you adjust, before he slowly would thrust faster. He would repay the favor tenfold once you were done, burying himself in your sweet cunt, until you were begging him to stop. His fingers moved faster around his cock, his low groans and wet squelch bouncing off the bathroom walls, hopefully drowned out by the running water. Fuck, he wished he would feel how it would to have his tip brush against the back of your throat.Â
He was close, the twitch of his dick in his hand told him so, and he imagined what it would be like to cum in your mouth, watching you swallow his release, if youâd want to, or cumming all over your face or chest, letting his cock drag over your tongue as he pulled out.Â
Fuck, he shudders, moaning your name against his fingers, he cums all over his hand and the wall of the shower, his release running down mixing with the water. He rinsed his hand off, leaning his head under the water again, hoping it would wash away any traces of you.Â
It didnât.Â
And as he emerged from the shower, making sure any trace of his act had slipped down the drain, but the towel around his neck, wondering if youâd see what he did on his face. But you wouldnât â because you were fast asleep.Â
His lips curled as he watched you sleep for a moment, your lips parted, curled up facing away from the bathroom â your feet sticking out of your blanket. He adjusts the blanket for you, and you shift a little in your sleep, mumbling something under your breath, before settling back in.Â
And he bites his lip before turning away â he would never be clean, would he?Â
Not when it was you.Â
âHow much longer do you think weâll be stuck here?â you murmur, the smile plastered on your lips nearly starting to chip and crack.Â
Professor Geto sipped at his drink hiding his frown, long fingers cradling the wine glass far too perfectly, âat least another hour,â he sighs, âwhen in academia, one must get used to mindless conversing if only it will lead to another needless connection,â
And this day had been nothing but an exercise of that â lectures, panels, presentations â any other word that meant someone or several someones sitting in front of you, talking at you â with only maybe 30% of the people actually listening (if you were lucky or interesting). And now you were one hour deep into a mixer that had you engaging in dry chit-chat that had your mind going numb by the first ten minutes. Your only reprieve being by Getoâs side.Â
You hated how he could make the dullest of things enjoyable for you, or ratherâ
You hated how much you loved itÂ
âHow pithy â Plato?â And he snorts, as you finish off your own drink, âIâm going to get a refill, do you want anything?â He shakes his head, and you head off to the bar.Â
You were so restless after sitting for so long. Not to mention the slight rash you got from not washing up soon enough. You woke an hour and half later and cleaned yourself up â luckily Geto had passed out by then. You saw him sleeping half scrunched up, half sprawled out on the couch â one of his legs were hanging off the couch â and even his blanket had slipped off. You stifled a small laugh, taking a quick picture of him â so stubborn that he wouldnât sleep on the bed with you. Your gaze had softened, as you picked up the discarded blanket and placed it over him softly, your fingers gently tucking some of his hair from his face. You fell asleep again after heading back to bed, and woke up refreshed â while Geto had woken up with a very sore back and neck.Â
âCan I getâŚâ you look at the menu, ordering your favorite drink, standing by the bar as you adjust your dress, you had opted for a black dress with sheer tights â one you had worn a suit jacket over it. You tap against the bar top, checking your phone as you do.Â
âCan I get what sheâs getting?â A dark haired man sidles up beside you, his mouth curled in a smirk drawing attention to a scar in the corner of his mouth, and his voice drops to a whisper, âthough I think Iâd enjoy you more than the drink,âÂ
You raise your eyebrows, âand I think youâve certainly had enough tonight,â you say under your breath, giving an awkward chuckle, but he doesnât seem to notice as the bartender comes back with your drink. Your eyes flicker over the crowd as you search for Geto but you canât find him.Â
âWhatâs your name, pretty?â And your skin crawls as his dark gaze slides over your body, âmineâs Toji,â and you bite back a sigh, introducing yourself, âitâs very nice to meet you â Iâve met a lot of people tonight but you definitely have been the most interesting,â and the bartender comes back with his drink.Â
âThen you must have not met a lot of interesting people so far,â you say, eager to look for any out to escape this conversation, âmy friend is waitingââÂ
âNo, Iâd say that youâre just that interesting,â he sips his drink, âcan I get you another drink?âÂ
And right when youâre about to respond, âNo, I donât think sheâs interested,â And you tense a moment before you register the familiar voice, Geto smiles at Toji, if you could call that a smile â it reminded you of one a predator gave its new prey, âespecially because sheâs a student, and youâre most assuredly not,âÂ
Toji raises an eyebrow, âBut she is an adult, she can speak for herself, so why donât you let her, Professor?âÂ
âBecauseââ his fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for you but he canât.Â
You swallow the lump in your throat. And you know why he canât.Â
Getoâs smile wavers, and you intercede, âI can, and I think Iâve had enough for tonight,â you pay your tab, âletâs go back to the hotel, Professor,âÂ
And Toji pulls his card out, handing it to you, âIf you change your mind,â he raises his glass, leaning against the bar, before he leans closer to you, whispering, âif you ever get sick of him, call me,âÂ
You give a polite smile, tugging Geto away until you reached the outside of the building, silence filled the space between you two, until you found your way outside.Â
âWhat did he say?â He asks as he calls a car back to take you both to the hotel, and you donât know how to answer that â not without making it worse, âactually, never mind. I shouldnât have asked,âÂ
âProfessorââÂ
âYouâre an adult, heâs right â you should be allowed to make your own choices,â he licks his lips, his eyes still fixed on his phone screen, âIâm sorry if IââÂ
âCan you let me speak?â you sigh, as you wave your hand in front of his phone so he would look at you, and his eyes meet yours, âyouâre fine â I was trying to get out of there â I just felt very trapped.âÂ
He huffs out a chuckle. âWhen you took that long, I wondered if the group of solipsists had taken you hostage,âÂ
You grimace, âI guess when you believe everyone else is an illusion, you also think manners are an illusion too,â he laughs in earnest now, ânow thereâs a real smile,â He tilts his head, âthe smile you had inside, real scary kind of smile,â you tease, as his eyes canât quite meet yours.
âOh yeah?â he suddenly seems very interested in his phone, âour rideshare is almost here,âÂ
âAlmost like you were jealous,â and he scoffs.Â
âOf him?âÂ
âUh huh, he is pretty attractive, maybe I will give him a callââ and you notice him grip his phone tighter, and your lips curl, âbut I probably wonât, not really my type,âÂ
âNot your type?â he asks.Â
âMore into the intellectuals, that man was far from it â I like an academic, sweater vests, glasses, a pretentious little officeââ and the glare is back, as you laugh, the rideshare sparing him from you continuing this conversation, but you also didnât get to see the slight smile on his lips as you slipped into the back of the car.Â
âJust sleep on the bed,â you say for probably the thousandth time, but he only shakes his head, as he sits on the couch, combing out his black locks. Even freshly showered, he looks unfairly hot â a loose gray t-shirt with sweatpants, contacts switched to glasses, and now his hair brushed against his shoulders.Â
âIâll sleep on the couch â it was fine last nightââÂ
âYour spinal cord would beg to differ,â and he looks unamused, as he struggles with his comb, âwhat are you doing?âÂ
âI canât get this knot out of my hair, and I canât get you out of my hair either,â he adds, as you roll your eyes, slipping off the bed and walking over. You ease the comb from his fingers, biting your lip at the brush of his fingers, âwhat are youââÂ
âItâs easier if someone else does it,â and he sighs, giving in, as your fingers undo the knot in his hair gently, âyour hair is really smooth and fine, probably why it tangled so fast,â and he only hums in response, his body relaxing under your touch, as you comb through the rest of his hair. You bite back a smile, heâs almost like a cat, keening under your touch, âfeels good?â You murmur.Â
âYeah, it does,â and you donât want the moment to end, you want this excuse to touch him to remain, the first time youâve been able to breach this wall between you two â and itâd be over in an instant, âI think thatâs good,â he mutters.Â
He lays his head back on the top of the couch to look up at you â pretty obsidian orbs stared back at you â and your heart squeezes. He was so close, within reach, and all you had to do was lean down, press your lips against his, and maybe you wouldnât have to tiptoe anymore, maybe you wouldnât have to hide from him, maybe you could beâÂ
âWe should go to bed,â he sighs, the moment breaks, as he sits upright, adjusting his pillow on the couch beside him, âwe have an early start,âÂ
âDonât remind me,â you turn back to him, âbut youâre right - we should go to bedââ you grab his pillow, âon the bed,âÂ
âNoââÂ
âLike you said, weâre both adults,â you tilt your head, as he purses his lips, âI think I can handle sleeping in bed beside you, just sleeping, we can even put a pillow between us,â and you add, âif I try anything in my sleep, you challenge me to a pillow fight, and push me off the bed,âÂ
He scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck, âI really can sleep onââ and then you raise your eyebrows, eyes flicking to the hand on his neck. He sighs, âfine, but I really will push you off the bed, Iâm a restless sleeper,âÂ
âThen itâs equal opportunity,â you grin, as you slip into your side of the bed, stretching. Suguru is slower to get in, taking his time and adjusting his pillow and blanket before he finally gets into bed, âgood night,âÂ
âGood night,â he turns to face away from you as he sleeps and you do the same.Â
But it wasnât a good night. Not when you couldnât fucking sleep.Â
For someone so smart, you really were very stupid. The bed that seemed expansive and open yesterday now felt Tom Thumb tiny, every shift of your body felt like a ripple effect, as youâd feel the slight shift of Geto right beside you. He was so close â you swore you could nearly feel the heat radiate off of him, the weight of his body beside you felt far too close and way too far â a chasm you could never cross.
And it was close to driving you insane enough to follow your wants all the way down it.Â
But you couldnât â but you could look, stare into the void, without becoming part of it.Â
You shift again to face him this time â how could the back of someoneâs head be so beautiful? Jet black locks that you had combed yourself fanned out on his pillow. But you could spot the nape of his neck through the tresses, a lovely spot that you only wished you could lean over and bury your face in. Your eyes began to droop.Â
Hypnos finally took pity. You could only sleep this way. Your eyes finally flutter shut â you should have known â you were always the most comfortable with him in your sight.Â
Suguru knew that you had fallen asleep â because your soft breaths fell into a rhythm, the crinkle of your sheets had grown silent, and the loud thoughts that filled up your head had gone quiet. He was glad one of you could sleep.Â
He surely wouldnât get a wink tonight.Â
This was certainly more comfortable than the couch, but at least he had slept on the couch. He would be lucky to get thirty minutes at this rate. This weekend had already been too much â and he felt his will to stay away from you slowly snapping, a few strands away from breaking away completely.Â
When he had seen you with Toji â he didnât think, he just acted. He could see you were uncomfortable, the way your body leaned away from him, the way your eyes flickered around the room, and the way you toyed with your glass. It was a simple choice, but what happens when the next person that flirts with you is someone youâre interested in? Would he have to stand by and simply let it happen? Watch as youâre able to date this person but not him simply because of his title?Â
He was jealous. Not of Toji â but of the idea of you being with someone else â of your attention drifting from him, of you drifting from him. He turned to lay on his back, he really was fucked wasnât he?Â
He turns his head to look at you. It never helped that you were effortlessly adorable, even now as you slept. Lips parted, body curled up, your hair falling in your face yet again. His fingers tuck a strand behind your ear gently, and you shift, a quiet hum leaving your lips as you settle back into the arms of the sandman.Â
How were you so close but so far? You were mere inches away but you might as well be across the country. Because he couldnât touch you, he couldnât hold you, he couldnât kiss you. The kiss he shared with you haunted his dreams â a daydream wrapped up in the nightmare of reality. He couldnât ask you to wait â wait for your degree to be completed so the two of you could date. It wouldnât be fair to you, but what about this was fair?Â
And he turns on his side to face you, his fingers brushing your cheek gently â maybe if he couldnât be with you in reality, he could allow himself to dream, his eyes flutter shut.Â
Just for a moment.Â
And his unconscious allows it â allows him to dream of you.Â
Dream of your face buried in the crook of his neck, your soft breaths warming his skin, his nose buried in your hair. Your fingers grasped at his shirt, your other hand thrown over his middle. Why was your scent so intoxicating? He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer, and you shift, your leg sliding around his waist, as you pressed closer, pulling a groan from his lips as your core grazes right against his morningâŚvisitor.Â
And you move again, nose brushing against his collarbone, his name on your lips, quietly whispered like a secret against his skin. It was perfect â you were perfect.Â
But what if this wasnât a dream? The back of his mind prods â but thatâs not possible, he was home in bed, right? This wasnât real. It was the same dream he always had, of waking up in your arms, a lazy morning spent together in bed, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, the sheets becoming dappled in sunshine.Â
No, there was no way this was real, he sighs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, but even if it was, he thought as he drifted, he didnât want to wake â not yet.Â
A distinct buzz stirs you from your sleep. But you don't want to wake â you were far too comfortable. But the buzzing persists, so you reach blindly for your phone and to turn off the alarm. And settle back into bed, eyes still shut, as you find your way back onto your pillow â or what you thought was your pillow.Â
Except pillows didnât move, or have an arm they could wrap around you.Â
Your eyes open, to find yourself entangled with someone else â your brow furrowing in confusion that melts away to silent horror. Professor Geto.Â
So much for sticking to your sides.Â
Fuck. Â
You tried to extricate yourself to no avail, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his body, your legs entangled, aside from your leg thrown over his waist, you realize, a small squeak escaping your lips, as you try and fail to move away. Instead you brush up against something veryâŚhard.Â
You flush, cheeks burning so hot that itâs truly a miracle he didnât wake from the heat of your skin against his alone. His morning wood was pressed right against you, nearly between your thighs â just like the last time it was against you â why the fuck would you think about that now? You resisted the urge to press your legs together â lest you have another new problem, and a mess to deal with.Â
You manage to only pull your head away, urging yourself up so that your faces are an inch or two apart now. His soft breaths warmed your lips, his brow relaxed, locks of black hair fell in front of his eyes. Your fingers reach and tuck the locks behind his ear, tips skimming his skin. And the arm around you almost seems to tighten, and you bite your lip, the comforting presence of his arms far too tempting to drag you into wanting â as if you ever left. Wanting was dangerous, because wanting can only ever lead to need, needing him was as foolish as it was to share a bed with the man you were in love with.Â
But how foolish was it that you couldnât bring yourself to pull away? It was okay right? Okay as long your lips didnât touch, as long you didnât follow this slope all the way down â it was treacherous to press forward, but why did you want to anyway?
Your eyes flutter shut again for a moment â and your eyes glanced at the morning sky â the sun had just breached the horizon. You could allow yourself a few minutes â even if you had to give up a lifetime with him.Â
The blaring of your phone only seems to grow increasingly loud, as you give a small groan, rolling over to your phone again, slapping the screen to snooze it again. And your eyes flutter open a moment, lazily flickering over the screen â 8:45 AM.Â
Your eyes close â before your mind fully wakes â 8:45 AM?Â
âFuck,â you shoot up to get up, a tangle of limbs, jolting Geto awake, his eyes popping open, his arm instinctively grabbing you by the waist, and you land with an oomfph back onto the bedâwait, not the bed.Â
Your hand pressed against his chest, your body against his, noses brushing, your eyes unable to tear away from the other â his eyes were even prettier this close â a dark brown, nearly black, with flecks of another color â purple? You canât tell if thatâs your heartbeat or his thatâs racing with how close you are, chest to chest. And even as you try to shift, you make it worse by slipping, your hips rubbing against each otherâs.Â
Fuck.Â
You both freeze for a moment, his eyes flickering to your lips and back, as yours does the same, before you both scramble apart.Â
âWeâre late. Weâre really late,â you spring out of bed, grabbing random clothes from your suitcase, âIâm going to get ready, really fast,â you donât even bother to look at his expression, and you almost wished your heart had shattered your ribcage, with how fucking hard itâs beating, if only that you wouldnât have to spend another day in the conference with him.Â
You sighed, as you brushed your teeth hurriedly while doing your hair â well maybe a lecture or presentation would take your mind off this morning.Â
So that wasnât a dream, Suguru was only glad you didnât even glance at his face when you ran off, or you would have seen the lovely tomato red that graced his cheeks. He could still feel the warmth from your body, slowly receding, and he swore he could still feel you against him, your soft skin, your pretty lips against his neck, and your leg around his waist.Â
Fuck.Â
God, he had another fucking problem to deal with â as he shifted awkwardly, his morning wood up and erect with a tent that could put most large circus tents to shame. Fuck, he didnât have time to take care of this â especially with you in the bathroom right now.Â
But still, he pressed his inner palm to his lips, how was he going to make it through the rest of the conference with the feeling of your body still lingering in his mind. If the situation was different, the two of you would have woken up with smiles on your lips, spent the morning cuddling without a care, and probably a little more than thatâ
But the situation was the same, and his eyes slid to the bathroom door, so why was it that he still thinking about you? He wasnât the type to dwell, he accepted things for what they were â he had his principles and his beliefs, and he stuck to them, unless proven otherwise. He was a man of guidelines, of rulesâ
So why were you the only person that ever made him want to throw every rule away?Â
âWe are going to be discussing ethical dilemmas faced in universities and how to approach them,â the lecturer begins, âcan anyone tell us an example of one such dilemma?âÂ
You both had barely made it into a lecture â barely even speaking as you ran-walked into the conference â choosing a lecture at random, as the two of you ran a good fifteen minutes late. You both arrived, hiding your pants, as you both grabbed water bottles from the back, and sat down.Â
And of course to make matters worse, your phone goes off, making the entire room turn to look at the two of you. You silence your phone, murmuring a quick sorry as the two of you take your seats.Â
Could this possibly get worse?Â
Your eyes glanced at him â it was already bad enough to begin with. Geto had barely spoken a word this morning, even as the two of arrived at the conference, the only words he spoke were to the attendant that parked his car.Â
You tugged at the collar of your shirt, adjusting your clothes. And if that wasnât enough, you were going to spend the day sweaty and disheveled. Meanwhile, you stole another glance at your professor â his skin flushed from running, button up not buttoned up all the way, glasses instead of contacts, and his hair in its usual bun, but a few strands were nearly coming loose â he still looked fucking delectable. But he wouldnât meet your gaze, his body positioned to lean away from yours, his eyes fixed ahead.Â
You held back your sigh as you focused on the presentation â you just needed to get through today â as the lecturer picked someone who raised their hand.Â
âA student-teacher relationship is one such ethical problem faced in universities today,â and Geto nearly chokes on his water, coughing slightly, as you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of this morning, âit presents several ethical problems â including the role the professor plays in the studentâs education and future, their ability to provide praise or reprimand, and even grant recommendations gives them great power over their student. It leaves the student without much freedom in the relationship.â
Oh, what the fuck.Â
The rest of the conference is spent in relative silence with a thick film of awkwardness perfectly overlayed. When you both finally return to the hotel room, your only consolation is that youâll be leaving tomorrow. You toss your things onto the couch, âIâm going to wash up,â you tell him, and he only nods in reply, as you enter the bathroom and shut the door, back pressed against it and sliding down.Â
Oh this is such a mess. You sigh, maybe a shower will help.Â
It didnât. You were still just as much of a mess as you were before. You sighed, as you stood in front of the sink, wiping your hair with a towel. This could be so simple if you both could be together â so easy. There would be no tension, no hurt feelings, no awkwardness â you could just be. But thatâs not an option. So the only other option is to let him go.Â
But you didnât know how to begin to.Â
Either way, hiding in the bathroom wouldnât solve a thing â and you finally opened the door, âIâm done if you want to wash up,â he nods, sitting on the couch, reading a book. His glasses rested on the tip of his nose, lips pursed, and legs crossed.Â
You walk over, grabbing your things from the couch and put some of your things away in your suitcase. But after all of that is done, you realize one thing is missing â your cellphone.Â
âShit,â you murmur under your breath, searching through your suit coat pockets, your pants pocket, anywhere that your phone might be.Â
âWhatâs wrong?â Geto says, book in his lap, as he tilts his head.Â
âCanât find my phone,â you mumble, cheeks burning â god, it was already awkward enough, and now this?Â
âIs it on ring?â You nod â your phone was usually on ring, sometimes to your detriment â you cringe at the memory in the lecture this morning, âIâll call it,âÂ
He calls you â and you glance at his phone screen, your contact is just your name, no picture, nothing. You bite your lip, what were you expecting? A heart next to your name? And the sound of your phone ringing catches both of your attention.Â
âItâs over here, somewhere,â he says, lifting up some of cushions of the couch, and reaching underneath into the creases, as you walk over â âI foundââÂ
And you were so concerned about your contact information in his phone that you forgot about his contact information in your phone.Â
The screen flashed with the image of him sleeping all lopsided on the couch from that first night, as you covered your mouth in both horror, but also to stifle your laugh.Â
His eyes flicker to you, âWhen did youââ and you reach for your phone, but he moves it away, ânot until you answer my questions,âÂ
âThis isnât class, Professor, I want my phoneââ you reach for it again, and heâs holding it above your head, âoh real matureââÂ
âLike the picture you have of me as my contact picture?â He raises an eyebrow, a real smile pulling at the corners of his lips, âthought I should resort to my studentâs level,â Â
âYour T.A.,â you correct, as you reach for your phone again, but heâs using his height to his advantage, and heâs beginning to walk backwards, âcome on, give it backââÂ
âNot until I change and delete that photo,â and heâs trying to hold your phone up to your face to unlock it, and you gasp.Â
âOh my god, give it back!â And you grab his hand, and heâs grabbing at the other, giggles leaving your lips, as he laughs too, as the two of you struggle for the phone, your fingers closing over it, and over his own fingers as well.Â
And you realize how close you are to him.Â
The two of you freeze a moment, laughter on your lips fading away to soft smiles, and his fingers squeeze yours lightly, as he passes you your phone back. But he doesnât move away â and you donât either.Â
âWhy did you let go?â and it seems like itâs a force out of your control that draws you together, no matter how much either of you try to let go.Â
âBecause I canât help giving you what you want,â he murmurs, and the heat of his gaze melts your heart, as you drop your phone onto the couch, and reach for his hand again.Â
And you lean closer, your other hand gently brushing against his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw, âSo if I ask for a kiss, will you give it to me?â You wonât close the gap anymore than you have â he needs to reach for you too, let himself give into gravity.Â
He does, as his hand brushes against your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth across your cheekbone, âwill we stop at just a kiss?â He murmurs, leaning so close that your eyes want to flutter shut.Â
âOnly one way to find out,â and his lips brush yours. And itâs not chaste like your first kiss was, no, his lips slide against yours, as his other hand slides to the back of your neck. He swallows your gasp eagerly, if the smirk you feel against your lips is anything to go off of. Your teeth graze against this bottom lip teasingly, drawing a small groan from the back of his throat.Â
Neither of you couldnât stop at one kiss, and you both knew that, even as your lips parted for a small breath of air, they found each other again â just as you both always did. Because you could never let him go â no matter how hard you tried.Â
RING. RING. RING.Â
And this time it isnât an alarm. But rather his phone, flashing with a name that brings you crashing back to reality.Â
The department head.Â
âFuck,â he murmurs under his breath, as he parts from you, his warmth leaving all at once, as he grabs his phone, and turns away, âHello? Yes, the conference is over. Everything went well. No, no, nothing out of the ordinary.âÂ
You stared at his back, this would always be the case wouldnât it? Even as you crashed together, something would pull you apart, and neither of you could break the cycle. You take your phone from the couch, and crawl into bed, but you could start.Â
You close your eyes, your fingers brushing against your lips for a moment. You needed to start â otherwise, you would just end up broken.Â
And you donât hear him hang up â or see him stare at your figure under the covers â and he would break along with you.Â
Suguru didnât know what to say the next morning â especially when it seemed couldnât even bear to look at him, much less speak to him. You had busied yourself with packing, even before he had awoken. His back ached from the night he spent on the couch, he couldnât fall asleep for far too long, and by the time he did, he kept sleeping â through his many alarms it seemed.Â
And it wasnât the couch that kept him awake.Â
You both had the most lovely timing, didnât you? He thought, as he combed his hair in the bathroom, the memory of your fingers running through his hair as you gently undid the knots in his locks still ever present â it seemed like any time you two wanted to act on your feelings, the universe was doing what it could to keep you apart.Â
Was this fate versus free will?Â
You both kept choosing each other â but fate kept pulling you apart. Did he have any control over his actions or did he have no control over his actions at all? Was it all predetermined by some force he couldnât perceive? Some force intent on pulling you apart.Â
He sighed, as his phone lights up with an email from the department head â department head position opened up in Jujutsu University: Kyoto âÂ
And so maybe he should let it.Â
The next few weeks pass by far too quick. As your semester picks up, you stop attending Professor Getoâs classes, opting to send an email to let him know, and he replies back with a simple response â Ok. Please let me know when and if you are available to input the grades for the midterm paper.Â
The rest of your T.A. work is done online and over email â and you do your best to keep busy, keep yourself occupied, and keep your thoughts from straying to him.
And you maybe succeed 10% of the time. It doesnât help that your unconscious does not wish to cooperate since it seems that once you stopped seeing your professor during waking hours, heâs infiltrated your sleep â sneaking in and out by the time your eyes open.Â
And then youâre left with the fragments of his touch, his voice, his kisses, and soft, loving words.Â
Just as you always were it seemed.Â
And before you know it, the end of the semester comes, and you find yourself in front of that same office door yet again. It felt like an eternal reoccurrence â stuck to repeat the same events again and again in an infinite loop. Was there any exit from this loop?Â
You didnât know â you knocked on his office door â but you could try.Â
âCome in,â you do, entering his office to find him sitting at his desk, hair half up for once. And his eyes flicker up to meet yours, his head tilting at your stare, âsee something interesting?âÂ
âYour hairââ and your cheeks burn â so much for trying â âitâs different,âÂ
âThought Iâd try something different â my hair is growing out,â and you have to repress the want to curl a lock or his hair around your finger, âdo you not like it?âÂ
You shake your head, âIt looks nice, just different,â
And he hands you the papers heâs graded, âyou can input those, Iâm just finishing up a couple more, so if you wouldnât mind waiting a bit?âÂ
âNot at all,â a silence falls over between the two of you, the quiet scratch of his pen as he grades, the occasional ding of his e-mail breaking up the silence. You sneak a glance at him â ebony tresses brushing against his broad shoulders, his brow furrowed that you wished to run your fingers along to smooth his worries from his mind, pretty lips parted as he reads a sentence silently to himself.Â
Fuck â no, no, you canât do this.Â
You busy yourself thumbing your way through the papers, spotting the familiar red scrawls littering these pages, as they once did yours. You were so pissed when you got your first paper back â indignant even â a whole Karen ready to speak to his supervisor. But when his honest criticism and blunt words rang true, you found yourself not only wanting to prove him wrong, but a want to be better. To earn his respect. And of course, later, you wanted to earn a little more than that.Â
You bite back a chuckle, and here you still were â by his side. Except next semester you wouldnât be his T.A.Â
But you would still be a student. And he would still be a professor.Â
But one other thing that hasnât changed is how brutal the feedback is â you couldnât help but feel bad for âItadori Yuujiâ â whoever that was.Â
âWhat are you smiling about?â Your eyes snap up to meet his, his head leaning against his palm, elbow resting on the desk.Â
âNothing,â you shake your head, but he looks unconvinced, âjust thinking about our first time in this office,â and then your cheeks burn at the double meaning, âI mean our first office hours appointmentââÂ
He waves you off, âI know what you meant,â a small chuckle in his cadence, as he continues to grade, âyou certainly werenât happy with me,âÂ
âNo I wasnât,â a small smile on your lips, âbut it worked out in the end,â you add, âyou got an amazing T.A. after all,âÂ
His eyes meet yours, âMore than just that,âÂ
Why canât you help but get pulled in time and time again? And why canât you help but ask questions that will only hurt you in the end?Â
He continues to grade when you finally speak, âWhat do you think would have happened if I didnât end up being your T.A.?âÂ
And his pen stops, lips pursed, âWe shouldnâtââÂ
âWhy shouldnât we?â you felt like a child demanding an answer from their parent.Â
âWe agreedââ
âI donât remember an agreement-âÂ
âIt was unspokenââÂ
You scoff, crossing your arms, âYou really are only a professor because an attorney would know that binding agreements canât be unspoken,â he falls silent, his voice soft.Â
âI donât want to keep hurting you,â his words are wrought with conflict, pain seeping into every syllable, âI donât want to keep going down this road only to for you to get hurt in the end â I donât want to jeopardize your future for something that might not lastââÂ
âBut what if it does?â and he swallows thickly, âwhat if we can make it work? Weâre both adults, we can be discreetââÂ
âSo discreet that we end up making out in my office?â he takes off his glasses only to run a hand down his face, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks, and you huff out a chuckle.Â
âA little more discreet than that, weâll lock the door next time,â itâs his turn to scoff, and you rise from your seat, lips curled, âclose the lights, or maybe even kiss in a place thatâs not on campus,â but he does the same, meeting you on the side of his desk, his fingers brushing your cheek so gently as if youâd shatter under his touch.Â
âI donât want to stand in the way of your career,â he says, his fingers finding your hand regardless, fingers interlacing, âI donât want you toââÂ
âItâs my choice, Suguru,â you murmur, as you lean against his warm palm, your fingers sliding against his palm and into his inky tresses, âdonât you owe me a choice, and a drink?â you add, and his lips curl in a knowing smile.Â
âI do, if youâll still have me,â and heâs leaning close, sucking the air from the room, and the logic from your minds, as his lips barely graze yours, âshouldnât we lock the door?âÂ
âFuck it,â and you pull him into a deep kiss that pulls a groan from his lips that makes your cunt ache, as heâs already pushing you into the lip of his desk, his hand sliding down to your waist.Â
âNow whoâs being unethical?â he murmurs, pressing eager kisses along your jaw, that makes you melt against him, your legs nearly jelly at this point, âwhat kind of example are you setting as a T.A.?âÂ
You bite back your moan as his lips find the soft spot of your neck, teeth grazing it far too fucking teasingly, âWell students learn by example,â and his hands are slipping under thighs to lift you so youâre sitting on his desk â you spread your legs for him in the dress that youâre in, pantyhose underneath, his heavy lidded gaze raking over your body, âand look at my professor staring at his T.A. so lustfully, even with a clear power dynamicââÂ
And his fingers find your thighs again, squeezing, before his fingers dig into the sheer hose, tearing holes in it, drawing a gasp from your lips, âHowâs that for a power dynamic, princess?â far too pleased, âdonât worry, Iâll buy you new ones,â he murmurs, ânow just be a good girl and spread your legs for me,â he says, as he pulls away the ruined pantyhose, and heâs undoing the buttons on his shirt with one hand â one, two, three â before your fingers take over, leaning to press kisses at each inch of exposed skin, until the shirt falls open.Â
Then his lips find yours again, his silver tongue asking for you to part your lips and you do â as he extracts every want you have with his burning touch â his lips against yours, his large hands parting your thighs, his knee pressed against your twitching cunt â and only leaves your want for him behind, until it becomes a need.Â
âWonder what our students would think of you,â his fingers tease your inner thighs, drawing a whine from your lips, âwanting your professor to fuck you in his office instead of inputting their grades,â he whispers in your ear, as his fingers finally skim the wet patch of your underwear, âso wet fâme, already? Look I think you even soaked my slacks,â he tsks, as his thumb and forefinger find your chin and tilt it up, âwhat are you going to do about that?âÂ
âSuguruâplease,â and he smiles as his finger starts to tease your puffy clit through your drenched panties, âdonât teaseââÂ
âHow can I not when youâve nothing but tease me with your existence?â he pulls the crotch of your underwear aside, âIâll oblige my favorite student this timeâbut I wonât be so nice next time,â he adds, biting your bottom lip.Â
RING. RING. RING.Â
It was his fucking office phone. You groan, but his finger continues to sink into you, âSuguruââÂ
âLet it ring,â his lips find yours in a bruising kiss as his finger deliciously sinks into you, âI have all I need right here,â he whispers, and you pull him back into a kiss by the collar of his unbuttoned shirt, your hand sliding up and down his chest, while he worked a finger into your cunt, âso fucking wet fâme, so perfect,âÂ
And your hand flies back to support yourself as a second finger begins to sink into you â but your hand grazes his office phone, and the messages begin to play back.
âFuck, sorry,â you mumble, as you reach blindly for the phone, only to knock it back, as he chuckles and reaches behind you, trying but failing to help â your noses brushing, and he smiles before kissing you again.Â
Mr. Geto, sorry we missed each other, I was calling, hoping that you would still be in office for the day, but I must have just missed you. I wanted to call to offer you the job as department head at Jujutsu Tech University: Kyotoâ
You freeze, your lips parting from his as you look up at him, his eyes wide as he stops the message from playing back any further â and the words settle over the mood like a sheet pulled over a dead body.Â
And youâre the first to speak, always asking the questions that will hurt you in the end, âYouâre moving to Kyoto?âÂ
⧠a/n: so i'm sorry for that ending hahah, i promise there will be a happy ending later on for these two. thank you to @gaylatteart and @laneysmusings for betaing and just being the best. also if i tagged you please comment / reblog because tagging on tumblr sucks, it takes very long.
⧠taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @difficultdomains, @diogodxlot, @that-goth-bisexual, @bash1018, @dazailover1900, @aliyalala, @ashhlsstuff, @blue041803, @mwtsxri, @bblgumfairy, @sukunasleftkneecap, @xo-evangeline, @fiannee, @teatreeoilll, @chalametet, @ryukaver, @d1gitalbathh, @saga3ious, @seventhcinema, @satosugucide, @your-l0nely-star, @sokkasmoon, @deegausserr, @hyookka, @oggsyy, @littlebitb, @higuchislut, @ti-mame, @itoshisins, @cerene-dipity, @onionsoop, @sinlillith, @izzythenaive, @akvrae, @lalacute03, @rxndou, @c-themoon, @xxrag-d0llxx, @hqtoge, @sugarxlumps, @hopeluna, @actualdeemon,
#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru smut#suguru geto fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto suguru imagines#geto suguru x you#geto x you#geto fanfiction
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DCxDP fanfic idea: Damian's (not) real friend
Based on the results of this poll post.
Bruce knew kids made imaginary friends as part of their development. He had done plenty of research on the topic long before taking in Dick. Over the years, as his children grew in numbers, so did his research on proper developmental milestones.
Typically, children create imaginary friends from the ages of six to nine. But that did not mean they had to give them up even if they were in their teens.
So yes, he knew kids could have imaginary friends of any age, but seeing Damian develop one was slightly shocking. It might have been due to his upbringing that Damian hadn't had one or had chosen not to speak of his buddy until he knew he was safe.
Knowing his son felt secure enough in his household to do so filled his heart with joy. Bruce kept an eye on Damian since he brought up his new friend, Daniel. He was glad his son had finally made a friend in his school that it took a few days to notice Damian never brought up Daniel unless someone else did.
When Tim asked him about his friend- claiming to have spotted Damian sitting by himself at lunchtime after his youngest had told everyone he had lunched with Daniel- the boy had waved his concerns away.
That's when Bruce learned Daniel was not a little kid at Damian's school but rather an imaginary friend.
More specifically, he learned that Daniel could not be photographed or recorded. He simply would not appear on cameras or in auto recordings. Damian didn't seem to find any of that odd, nor take into account that, as Batman and Co., they had the means to pick up some trace of something being there.
After all, they had machines that could indicate a Speedster messing with the timeline! But no, Damian insisted that Daniel simply could not be recorded.
Apparently, Damian checked.
Now Bruce knew that an imaginary friend only became a concern when the child seemed frightened by it; it encourages harmful or destructive behavior; it rapidly changes the child's typical behavior, and the child blames it for all harmful or dangerous behavior or if it disrupts the child's ability to socially interact with others.
Daniel didn't seem to frighten Damian, nor did it encourage bad behavior in his son. But it certainly got in the way of Damian making real friends, and his son's behavior changed, even if he grumbled good naturally about it.
Daniel pestered Damian to join him in exploring Gotham to find, and Bruce quotes, "Secret spots for getting down in funky town."
Damian had videos of himself break dancing in abandoned subways, ballroom dancing with the air in an abandoned firehouse, and the oddest of all, disco in an underpass where he seemed to be making faces at the area around his left shoulder. He never posted them, claiming that Daniel just wanted them for themselves.
Bruce was mildly alarmed. He brought it up with the rest of his children, who all reported similar tales of Daniel.
Tim had noticed Damian recording songs in his room- his son had inherited the Wayne vocal cords. They were all blessed singers- claiming that Daniel had written and composed the music but had wanted Damian to record it since he couldn't. They would be using it in one of their videos.
Jason brought up the fact he had seen Damian make a collage covered in nothing but pictures of himself and the Gotham landscapes. Damian had spent nearly seven hours cutting, gluing, and organizing the postal board that he hung up.
Dick's report, however, was the most alarming. He had seen a photo booth strip Damian carried at all times. It supposedly held Daniel, but all he saw was an empty booth. This, coupled with the heart-shaped frame of some underpass, of an empty wall that Damian lovingly placed on his desk, could only mean one thing.
"Damian is infatuated with his imaginary friend." He said, voice heavy in concern as his children gave each other wary looks. "Damian is fully convinced Daniel is real and, likely, is treating him as a boyfriend rather than a best friend."
"Want me to talk to him? I can get him to agree to introduce me to his....boyfriend." Steph volunteers while stepping forward. "There were some cases at the homeless shelter Duke and I volunteer at where I needed to convince some kids to introduce me to their imaginary friends."
"That could work. Besides Dick, you have the closest relationship with Damian," Duke agrees. He is staring at the videos of Damian dipping someone that wasn't there, jaw tense. It likely reminded him of his parents. "It is better to send you in just because Damian may not be ready to talk to Dick about crushes."
"I'll set up some closer monitoring around Damian," Babs offers, nodding at Tim, who was already hacking into the boy's school cameras. She had sent him a private message to get started on that the second she heard Dick's report. She was busy hacking into the city's system of Damian's usual routes when going into the city. "If someone caused him to develop Daniel, I want to be sure we stop it."
"And I'll be sure to make them pay," Jason hissed, punching his fist as Cass twirled a blade at his side, nodding in agreement. She hasn't said much, but everyone could see the anger and concern for the youngest in her eyes. Apparently, she had been able to tell through Damian's body language he had developed a crush on Daniel but had not picked up on the fact he wasn't real.
To Damian, he was, so when she read his body language, she thought he was, too.
Alfred speaks up, his voice even despite the slight tremble in his folded hands on the conference table. "We also have to consider the possibility of instituting Damian. Something like this does not dub well for Master Damian's ability in the field. Civilian or Cape."
His words send a cold chill down everyone's backs. It was like the air itself was holding its breath as they turned to look at Bruce, waiting for his call. Bruce had his face in his hands, shoulders shaking in silent tears, but he nodded. "Dami needs help"
Dick stumbled back into his chair, looking like his father had just punched him in the gut. Tim's fingers paused over the keys, eyes hazy and lips tight. Cass' knife stabbed the table, grip knuckle white while Jason swore up a storm, slamming a fist down.
Steph, Duke, and Babs remained in their spot, but their faces had angry frowns. Bitter that they could do no more as they glared into the air around them. The three had always been more silent rage than the rest, the kind that forced the air around them when the rest of the Bats burned in it.
"We have to-" Bruce's words get cut off by the Cave communication bell. The camera on the Batcomputer turns on, displaying Damian in a rather fetching streetwear outfit.
"Hello, Father." He said calmly, aiming the camera so they could see he was inside a stale bathroom. "I am calling to ask permission to invite Daniel to dinner at the Manor. We were going to get some pizza after our latest dancing video, but the one Daniel adores was closed for construction, and it's getting rather late for other places. Daniel lives in the bad side of town, so his sister would rather he not be out too late."
Oh gods, Daniel had a sister now? One that limited Damian's movements?
"Of course, son," Bruce heard himself say. A heavy lump developed in his throat as a broad, pleased smile spread across his child's face. Bruce is no stranger to heartbreak, but he felt it cracking as Damian reminded him that Daniel was a civilian, so they needed to ensure that vigilante things were out of sight. "That sounds fine, Dami. We will be waiting for you both."
"We?"
"Your siblings want to meet Daniel." Bruce clarifies, looking around the table of his children, who look back at Damian with pity. "Don't you?"
Dick presses a hand against his mouth, nodding his head. "We sure do. Heard so much about Daniel, it would be a shame not to."
"Very well." Damian yields after some thought. "We shall be home in an hour. Alfred, could you make some meat lasagna? That's Daniel's favorite food."
"It's making him ask for meat." Jason curses under her breath "on top of everything else?"
Thankfully, it's too soft for Damian to hear, so Alfred speaks up. "Of course,e Master Damian."
"Replace the bĂŠchamel sauce with layers of cheese, please." Damian requests, smile turning a bit soft and gooey. "Daniel prefers it that way."
"Right away, sir."
The call ends, and the cave erupts into noise. Bruce springs to his feet, shouting out orders. They will think of what to do now that Damian has introduced them to Daniel.
Multiple JusticeLeague-approved therapists are called, Black Carnary is on speed dial for any help they may need, and the kids brush up on their mental illness assistant packages. They don't plan on confronting Damian tonight about it, but they will carefully prob to see what exactly Daniel and his sister make Damian do.
____________________________________________________________
Alfred's face spams an hour late as he watches the front gate security cameras. Master Damian arrives in an Uber, holding the door open and offering his hand to the air as if attempting to help someone get out of the vehicle. The boy waves away the driver, then keeps his hand wrapped around nothing as he strides to the Manor in sure steps.
Alfred doesn't have the auto on, but he can tell by the movement of Master Damian's lips that he is speaking to it.
Alfred moves to the front door, fixing his vest to gather courage before opening the door, a calm Welcome home, Master Damian on his lips.
Only to choke on his spite at the sight of another young boy the same age as Master Damian standing right where Daniel should be. He even has his fingers interlocked with Master Damian.
"Alfred, this is Daniel Fenton. Daniel, this is my family butler, Alfred Pennyworth."
"You're real," Alfred breathes, staring wide-eyed at the boy who offers him a wave. It's such a whiplash from the emotional turmoil of this afternoon that he forgets himself and his manners as he gawks at the child.
"Um, I sure am?" Daniel, for his part, looks a little uneasy, which prompts Master Damian to step in front of him, shielding him with his body. His green eyes are blazing with slight protective rage.
"I did not see you in the camera...." He hears himself say as if that was justification for his reaction.
Master Domain's shoulders relax. "Yes, Daniel does not appear on any form of record. It happens. Come, Daniel, I'll show you my room while dinner is made."
"Cool. Can we practice some new moves, too? I really want to get the choreography for our new song down."
"Of course."
Alfred steps back, allowing the children to walk inside, climb up the stairs, and vanish from sight. He fumbles for his phone, knowing he has to report this before Master Bruce and the other children make fools of themselves.
Goodness, he didn't even start on the meat lasagna. He didn't think he was actually going to feed someone.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Damian's (Not) real friend#Part 1#dead serious#misunderstandings#Based on a poll post#Crack#Danny and Damian met at school#Damian thinks Danny is a meta who's only power is not be recorded#Danny lets him#The rest of the bats were having mental break downs over Damian's mental break down
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obliviate - mattheo riddle
summary: when voldemort finds out about you and mattheo, he devises the perfect way to keep you apart.
word count: 5k
a/n: okeeey i know this is longer, but i actually adore it so much! kinda put my heart + soul into this one! extremely special shoutout to @pizzaapeteer's research on mattheo's favorite quidditch team, which provided a name i needed at the very end (hint hint!) âĄ
warnings: angst (but also fluff, pls, it's me), use of the cruciatus curse, voldemort being voldemort.
soundtrack: dancing to the sound of a broken heart - galantis
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ad1a509ea06829c94a2afbff7dddda36/bdcbfb626791484d-91/s540x810/b2c42fed90a996e7cfa81a37ea8f34ede6c3f71c.jpg)
OBLIVIATE (v.) -- To forget, to wipe from existence.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ad1a509ea06829c94a2afbff7dddda36/bdcbfb626791484d-91/s540x810/b2c42fed90a996e7cfa81a37ea8f34ede6c3f71c.jpg)
You noticed before he did.
It was early; the morning sun was just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting his bedroom in a deep golden hue. Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in Mattheoâs arms, you could feel the rise and fall of his chest at your back, his warm breath on your neck. Normally this was your very favorite way to wake up, but something was off, something had made your eyelids flutter open, a feeling, a foreboding.
You didnât want to wake him, gods knew he needed his sleep, so you squinted slowly around the room until your eyes rested on the very arms that were wrapped around you.
It was his dark mark, writhing against his skin.
Noâ you thought, but in an instant, Mattheo jolted awake, breathing heavily like he was coming out of a nightmare, or coming into one, and within a moment he was pulling his arms out from around you and you immediately felt cold for their absence.
âMattyâ you whispered, turning to face him and reaching out for him, but he was already up and out bed, pulling his clothes on haphazardly.
He turned at the sound of your voice, looking longingly at you for the briefest moment, tangled in his sheets, perfect in the morning glow, your eyes begging him not to leave.
âStay?â you asked quietly, and his stomach lurched. Fuck if you didnât have the ability to bring him to his knees with just one word; but his arm burned and ached with impatience⌠He wouldnât be kept waiting much longer and Mattheo could only come up with so many excuses as to why he was always late without exposing the truth, desperate to protect you.
âI have toâŚâ he started, but he didnât finish the statement, didnât want to say what exactly heâd have to do and thank the gods you never asked.
âI knowâ you sighed.
âI love youâ he said, leaning forward to kiss you sincerely, his fingers brushing your jawline, taking one last piece of humanity and goodness with him.
âI love you moreâ you whispered as his form disappeared in front of you, leaving you alone.
Mattheo knew the moment he arrived that something was deeply deeply wrong.
He recognized his surroundings at once: the Riddle family manor. The halls echoed with a silence so familiar to him and his childhood it felt like his heart stopped beating so as not to make a sound. Besides silence, though, he also felt the other hallmark of his childhood: loneliness. He was alone; not one in a mistakable mix of followers that he could slip into undetected, he was home, and he was alone, and he felt an uneasiness, a sickness settle over him as the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise and he turned to see his father stepping out of the shadows.
âTwelve minutesâ he said by way of greeting, avoiding Mattheoâs eyes as he approached him like a predator would its prey.
âTwelve minutes. From the time I summoned you, until now. What, pray tell, was so pressing, so urgent as to cause your delay?â
Mattheoâs mind swept quickly over the image of you in his bed, your hair splayed on his pillow, the smile on your lips and your soft whisper as heâd apparated, but he quickly dismissed the thought.
âSâearlyâ he said, kicking himself for how his voice waivered in its reply.
Voldemort nodded in mock understanding, like he was considering this, drawing out the silence between them, painfully so.
âSo not only are you late, but you are also lyingâ he said, emphasizing the last word, spitting it like a hiss, his black eyes snapping to Mattheoâs in way that caused him to jolt in reply, an automatic defense mechanism against the only living being capable of scaring him as Voldemort stormed towards him, entering his personal space as his voice rose.
âDo you remember what happened to Alexei Donovan when he lied to me?â he asked.
Mattheoâs eyes shifted between his fathers, swallowing, vividly remembering watching Nagini devour Donovan limb from limb.
âANSWER ME!â his voice boomed.
âY-y-yeahâ he stuttered.
âYes, my Lordâ Voldemort corrected him.
âYes, my Lordâ Mattheo repeated.
And then Voldemortâs tone changed completely, as he took a step back and a smile spread across his inhuman face, which was somehow more disturbing than the alternative.
âBut I am a merciful Lord, arenât I?â he asked, his head cocked, daring Mattheo to disagree.
âYes, my Lordâ he said.
Voldemort nodded in approval.
âYes, I am. And what a relief that must be to Ms. YLN at this very moment, hmm?â he asked, his eyes clocking Mattheoâs reaction as the blood drained from his face, his eyes blew wide and his shaking hand reached for his wand.
You watched the empty space where Mattheo had apparated like he might change his mind and come back, perhaps willing him to, before you laid back down, settling for his lingering warmth and his smell against the sheets when you heard footsteps outside the door.
You sat up, excited...naive you would think later, so fucking naive with the hope that he had returned, only to feel the blast of the door getting blown off of its hinges as you moved to cover your face from the flying debris.
Mattheo was breathing erratically, his chest visibly rising and falling with pure, unadulterated rage mixed with a fear so palpable it was like he could taste it on his tongue. He was desperately trying to rein in his emotions and failing miserably as his mind catapulted over every worst case scenario.
He spoke, finally, conjuring the only thing he could think to say as his brain continued in overdrive.
"Don't" he said firmly, threateningly, his voice level for the first time that morning.
His father smiled broadly without an ounce of kindness behind his eyes as they narrowed.
"You never learn⌠What did I tell you? What have I always told you? Thisâ" he said, gesturing to Mattheo's body shaking in fight or flight mode "âis weakness. Look at you!" he said with disgust, with disdain, "You're worthless. You can't decide what to you, your mind is divided when it should be focused; you're thinking of her when you should be thinking only of yourself!"
Mattheo heard every word he was saying, but all he could think about was you, about how to get back to you, how to stop whatever had already begun; but it was like chasing a train on foot that had long since left the station, no matter how badly he wanted to jump in front of it, it was far too late.
"So, one question remains" Voldemort said, circling him again. "You...Or her?" he asked, sneering.
Mattheo's eyes flicked darkly to his father. "Me or her what?" he said through gritted teeth.
"Surely you understand that I can't allow this relationship to continue with the way it's destroying you, and while the Carrows provided me with a lengthy list of ways we could enforce that" he said, smiling, letting the threat of his most devoted followers linger. "I have something much simpler in mind." He stopped pacing, snapping to face Mattheo fully, his robes flourishing around him.
"I will have your memories" he said proudly. "And one of you will forget their feelings for the other... forever" he whispered as Mattheo felt weak in his knees, like they'd buckle beneath the weight of what had been said.
"So, whose will it be?" Voldemort asked.
You felt excruciating pain in every limb, every tendon, every bone, and when you opened your mouth to scream, the Carrows took your words.
All you could do was watch them through the tears that poured out of your eyes in your silent struggle, willing, praying for Mattheo to come back, pleading with him in your mind; please, please, please you thought even as you felt your resolve and strength waning.
Mattheo's mouth had run dry and there was bile in the back of his throat at the impossible decision before him: Either forget the brightest light in his life, perhaps the only thing keeping him steady in an ever-spiraling world, forget the way your skin felt under his fingertips, the smell of your shampoo, how tightly you squeezed him when he hugged you, or the sound of your laugh, the way you listened sincerely to him with your full attention or rubbed his back when he couldn't sleep; forget the only and most sincere feeling of love heâd ever experienced.
Or worse, meet your eyes and not see a light behind them, the way they'd twinkle with adoration for him, watch you forget him completely and live life instead as your friend, a bystander, maybe even watch you fall in love with someone else... His stomach lurched.
...But in a way, isn't that what you deserved? To live a life free of all of this, free of him and the pain he caused you, constantly, every time he had to leave, every time he had to live this second life. You were meant for more than this, you deserved to be loved by someone who could give you everything in return.
"Hers" he spluttered. "Take her memories" he said quickly before he could change his mind.
Voldemort nodded obligingly before waving a hand, dismissing him.
Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in your four-poster bed, a soft smile on your lips as you saw the morning sun just barely sneaking past the curtains in the window that fluttered gently in the autumn breeze, setting your bedroom in a deep golden hue.
Your limbs were heavy with sleep and you were settled warmly in your sheets. You felt refreshed, though you had the smallest echo of a headache that you attempted to rub away as you got ready for the day.
You made your way down to breakfast, settling in amongst your friends.
"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as you took your usual seat between Pansy and Blaise.
"Good morning, babes!" Pansy chirped as the boys nodded, waved, and greeted you in various acknowledgements. You grabbed a pastry and pressed closer to Blaise to help him with the crossword puzzle in the Daily Prophet. You were deeply focused on the black and white print when Mattheo wandered in, sliding onto the bench across from you. His movement caught your eye and you glanced at him and offered a small wave before returning your attention to the paper.
And that was all he got.
A glance, a smile that he tried to hold on to, to see if there was even a glimmer of recollection behind it. But there was nothing.
The spell was strong. It had tied up every lose end. Your things were gone from his room, your pictures together wiped clear by the time he returned, even your hair tie had disappeared from his wrist. And when he crawled into his bed, and realized your scent was gone from his sheets, he pulled his pillow over his head to mask his muffled sob.
Now not even his friends remembered your relationship, he realized, as he looked around at them, all totally unphased by the fact that you weren't glued to each other's side. At once he craved the way Theo complained incessantly about your PDA, and Blaise teased him for being whipped. He would give anything anything for something other than the complete ignorance in front of him.
He'd never felt so alone.
A few days later, you noticed Mattheo was...off. Even moreso than usual. You were used to him being standoffish, reserved, a total closed book, but you sensed something different about him. You had never been close, but something about his demeanor kept catching your attention.
"Are you okay?" you asked him that weekend at the Slytherin house party.
You'd had to raise your voice to be heard over the crowd and the loud music and his eyes snapped to yours, almost in shock, before they began intently searching your face.
You looked back at him, confused, waiting for a reply.
"M'fine" he said finally, taking a long drink from his cup in an effort to occupy hands that desperately wanted to pull you into him and lips that desperately wanted to tell you a truth that didn't exist anymore.
"Lighten up, Matty!" you said, gently shoving him on his chest as you walked away, and he nearly choked on his firewhiskey, because there was only one person in his life that had ever called him that, and it was you, beginning the night you'd first time told him you loved him.
He watched you walk away and fade back into the crowded party, wondering, daring to hope that there was a way to get you back.
After that night, Mattheoâs attention on you increased tenfold. The following morning he'd squeezed his way next to you at breakfast, nearly knocking Blaise off the bench as he slid you your favorite coffee.
"Oh!...Thank you?" you'd said, surprised as you peered over his shoulder at Blaise and then looked down at the latte. "How did youâ?"
"âCan I walk you to class?" he asked eagerly, a smile on his face.
"Suuureeee" you said hesitantly.
Then, he wanted to walk you to every class, and he'd even offered to carry your books. It was kind, endearing even, but it felt misplaced, so out-of-the-blue that it caught you off guard and confused you.
"Mattheo, I really want to thank you for everything you've been doing for me" you said finally as you walked out of your potions class to find him waiting for your eagerly, like a puppy, a smile on his face. Your eyes shifted to the classmates that walked by, eyeing the two of you together. "I just want you to know, I'm not really looking for anything serious. We're friends, that would be a little...weird, you know?" you said gently.
A moment.
And then he felt a chasmic split in his heart that he didnât think heâd live through once, let alone twice. It had never occurred to him that there was a world in which you wouldnât fall madly in love with him again as your words brought a memory rushing forward...
"Is this going to be weird?â" you asked, breathless, until his lips cut you off again, crashing to yours as his hands pulled you further against him in the broom closet. "âDarling, I could not care less" he murmured against you, and you laughed as your fingers tangled into the curls at the base of his neck and he felt your tongue against his own. âMmm our friends are going to lose their mindâ you whispered, grinning wickedly at him.
"Matty?" you asked, concerned at the look on his face, pulling him out of the memory, even as he tried and failed to hold on to it.
His eyes refocused on yours as his face darkened.
"Why are you calling me that?" he asked abruptly, his eyes narrowing.
"What?" you asked, taken aback at his tone.
"Matty. Why are you calling me that?"
"Iâ" you started before looking up at him, confused, feeling the dull ache of one of your more frequently occurring headaches coming on. "I-I don't know" you said quickly, a blush rising to your cheeks as you pushed past him.
He turned and punched the wall forcefully, feeling his knuckles crack in response.
Weeks went by. Every second in your existence was a painful reminder of what he would never have again, and yet he refused to distance himself, desperate for your laugh even if was for someone else, your smile, even if he wasn't the one to put it there.
Sometimes he swore he saw the slightest recollection in your eyes; he'd catch you looking at him, and you'd smile when he caught your eye, but it was always friendly, never like the look you used to give him, with the glimmer of something sinfully mischievous beneath it that had the two of you tumbling into his bed between classes.
The whole situation was setting him on edge, making him more anxious and fidgety than he'd ever been. But, of course, no one seemed to notice, his friends either chalking it up to his normal idiosyncrasies or bewitched to ignore his unusual behavior.
Now he was staring at the book in his lap, reading the same line over and over and over again, his mind running ragged as you sat beside him. At this distance he could smell your perfume, could feel your warmth radiating next to him and his heart ached at your proximity.
He hadn't realized he was doing it at first, but his leg was jiggling incessantly between the two of you, his jitters working at the pace of his mind, his body's panicked response to being so tantalizingly close to you, so desperate for you and not being able to have you. Suddenly he felt a warm hand on his leg, resting there gently as fingers began to trace a familiar pattern on his thigh, causing his jittering to slow along with his heart, which had now dropped into his stomach.
He glanced sidelong at you, afraid to move an inch, terrified that you would stop. He noticed you hadnât broken your concentration on your book, perhaps hadnât even realized you were touching him, it was like your body was moving on autopilot to comfort him in the very way you used to, tracing hearts on his thigh before nuzzling into him or pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.
He held his breath with the hope that this might mean something deeper, that there was a piece of you that remembered him as he closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the pattern of your fingers, the simple touch nearly bringing him to tears as he tried to let himself live in the memory of you.
You were right at the very best part of your book, the plot finally taking off, when you felt the familiar ache in your head that very quickly turned to a throbbing that brought you back to the present moment, and made you realize your hand had been resting on Mattheoâs thigh.
âOh, gods!â you said suddenly, pulling your hand back quickly. âIâm sorry, I didnâtââ you started until you saw the pained expression on his face, his eyes closed, his head hung as his hand carded through his hair. Your headache was pounding in full now, enough to make you wince and touch your temple. His eyes fluttered open, looking at you with concern.
âYNâ?â
ââS-Sorry!â you said quickly, gathering your things and beelining for your room.
âHave you noticed anything⌠different with Mattheo recently?â you asked Pansy that weekend.
You were laying on your stomach on your bed, flipping casually through a magazine as she sat next to you, admiring her nails as she painted them a deep emerald.
Youâd tried to ask as nonchalantly as you could, but she looked up at you with an eyebrow raised in question.
âI donât know heâs been so⌠strange with me. Heâs wanted to walk me to class, and carry my books, he wants to hang out all the time and he somehow knew how I liked my latteâŚ?â you trailed off, leaving out the way your hand had ghosted over him, the expression on his face, and your recurring headaches that didn't feel like a coincidence anymore, flaring up every time you were around him.
A moment passed but Pansy didnât reply and when you looked at her you saw that her expression hadnât changed; she was staring blankly at you, not saying a word, which was extraordinarily odd to put it mildly.
This was the type of gossip that would usually have her on her feet, screaming, spiraling, devising a messy plan to get two of her best friends together, but you were getting nothing in return, less than nothing.
âPans?â you goaded, prompting a response.
Her head tilted slightly, abnormally in a way that was starting to creep you out as her blank stare continued and you slowly pulled yourself upright and away from her.
âLet it goâ she said flatly. âYouâre imagining things.â
You were taken aback and started to respond before she interrupted you.
ââI mean, you canât think that heâs into you or something, do you? He would never go for you⌠what would he see in you? What could you possibly have to offer the Dark Lordâs son YN? Heâs got girls lined up out the door for him.â
You felt tears sting your eyes as you sat up fully now. Never once in your almost ten years of friendship had she ever said anything like that to you before. You were hurt, but you also couldnât help but feel like something was very very wrong as fear fluttered in your heart at her dark words and unnatural expression.
Suddenly, your mind snapped black for a moment to another time you felt foreboding, felt fear in your bones, screaming silently with no one to hear you and you stumbled to your feet, wiping the tears from your eyes as your head throbbed so hard you were afraid you were going to be sick.
Pansy looked up at you, and smiled, unphased by the way you were shaking or swiping at your running mascara as she smiled. âWant to go to dinner babes?â she asked cheerful again, like she had forgotten everything sheâd just said to you.
âI-Iâve got to goâ you said quickly, as you made your way for the door, desperate to find the person you sensed was responsible for this all.
You made your way to the common room in slow motion, like one of those dreams where youâre running but not actually going anywhere. You felt flushed and feverish as your body began to tremble and the room felt like it was distorting itself. You looked around frantically and found Mattheo walking in your group of friends on their way to dinner.
âYN!â Blaise cheered, noticing you approach as Draco and Theo turned in concert, smiling widely at you with uncannily happy expressions.
But the minute Mattheoâs eyes landed on you, his smile dropped to concern and he quickly approached you, closing the distance between you.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asked immediately, reaching for you before pulling his hands back awkwardly.
âCan I talk to you?â you winced as your headache intensified âPlease?â
âYeah, of courseâ he said eagerly, motioning to his friends, âIâll catch up with youâ he said, nearly ignoring them completely as he led you back towards their now empty room.
He shut the door behind you both and you swayed on your feet before moving between the four poster beds and sitting on the edge of his.
There were five identical beds in the room and he tried not to read too much into the fact that youâd known which was his, even though in this reality youâd never been here. And then he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart of you being here, alone with him, in his room, shaking the thought from his mind quickly as he took in the pained look on your face, your eyes pinched closed as you rubbed your temple
He came quickly to you, kneeling in front of you, moving to place his hands on your legs and pulling back, never knowing what the fuck to do with them anymore around you.
âWhatâs going onââ he started.
ââWhat did you do to me?â you whispered harshly, your eyes fluttering open, your face scrunched angrily in accusation.
âWhat?â he asked, confused.
âMattheo, something is very very wrong, and you canât tell me you donât know what Iâm talking about.â
He stopped breathing. It couldnât be.
âOur friends arenât normal, people around us arenât normal, and I feel like my insides are on fucking fireâ you said, grimacing. âAnd it only happens when Iâm around you. Iâm not an idiot, Mattheo, is this because I turned you down?â
For his part he looked like he was about to cry, he didnât look threatening or guilty, just enormously sad as he looked up at you with his amber eyes and your headache split to a nearly debilitating degree and tears flowed from your eyes in pain.
âMy headâ you said in a muffled sob.
You felt his warm hands rest on your legs, the first time heâd let himself touch you in months and you felt another flash in your mind, him smiling down at you with a lopsided grin in a way youâd never seen him look at you before, with adoration, with longing, with love, but it didnât feel weird this time, it felt normal, so familiarâŚ
âYN?â he whispered and your eyes fluttered open to see his transfixed on you, scanning your every feature, his expression full of concern. âPlease hear me when I say I would never ever hurt you.â A lie he realized too late as he looked at you now.
âI-I know that?â you said shakily. âSomehow I know that but I donât know how else to explain this or how Iâm feelingâ you said, sniffling.
âFuck!â he muttered in frustration as he stood up and started pacing, running his fingers through his hair. He was certain that something was happening and yet he had no idea how to help you, the image of you crying in pain on his bed making him physically ill.
You sniffed again and said the next sentence so softly he swore he'd dreamt it.
âYou have a scar on your shoulder, hereâ you said, gesturing over your own shoulder blade, tracing the same pattern of the raised skin on his back.
âYou take your tea with milk and two sugarsâ your voice wobbled but was gaining strength as you kept speaking and he turned to look at you.
âYou write left-handed but play quidditch right handed.â
Your eyes squeezed shut, words tumbling from your mouth now, like a broken dam.
âYou always wanted a dog growing up and if youâd had one you would have named himâ"
ââZorynâ you said simultaneously. He moved to approach you, crouching in front of you again as he stared at you in awe, unable to believe what was going on.
Your eyes opened at his voice.
âAfter my favorite quidditch playerâ he said. âYN youâre the only person who knows that.â
âWhy do I know these things?â you asked, pained.
He opened us mouth but nothing came out.
âMattyâ you were practically beginning him to help you understand but he was too scared to be wrong, too scared to tell you the truth.
â...Iâm the only one that calls you thatâ you whispered, and he nodded encouragingly.
âYeah, you areâ he said quietly, gently.
You reached out tentatively, your hand trembling and touched his cheek and he let his head fall against the palm of your hand, nuzzling into you as his eyes fluttered closed. You sniffed again.
âItâs okay, love, Iâm hereâ he said tenderly.
âB-But you werenât thereâ you said, breathing heavily all of a sudden, panicked. âI-I was scared and I wanted you there and you werenât thereâŚâ and just like that your eyes blinked to his and memories came like an avalanche as you stood and he rose his feet beside you.
The first time he kissed you, the feeling of his warm palm in yours, tangling your fingers in his curls, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest in bed, the way heâd pull you onto his lap at breakfast and everyone would moan about it, him nuzzling into your neck, his arms around your waist and his hand at the small of your back in the corridor between classes. His lopsided grin as his amber eyes twinkled down at you and he whispered âGods, Iâm crazy about you, darlingâ
âI remember! I remember!â you said finally looking up at the real Mattheo standing in front of you, his face somewhere between sheer panic and shock and suddenly the inches between you were too much as you flew into his arms, wrapping yourself around him as he lifted you off the ground.
âFuck babyâ he said as you felt him shaking beneath you. âIâm sorry Iâm so fucking sorry. He made me. M-made me choose, your memories or mine andââ he choked up as hand came to rest on the back of your head, holding you closer to him ââI didnât want you to live a moment in any reality thinking I didnât love you.â
âItâs okay, Matty, itâs okayâ you murmured against him, clinging to him, to the moment.
âNone of this is okayâ he said back.
âItâs ok nowâ you reassured him.
He made to pull back but you squeezed him tighter, afraid.
âI donât want to forgetâ you mumbled into his neck.
âYouâre not going toâ he said through a laugh, the first time the sound had left his lips in months.
âLet me guessâ you sniffed against him, fighting the knowing smile on your lips, âbecause youâre unforgettableâ you grumbled at his cocky humor.
âWell, yeahâ he said, laughing genuinely now, even as you pinched him.
âBut more importantlyââ he said as he took a step forward to lay you down on his bed so he could look at you, could finally see the sparkle of recognition in your eyes that he had been craving. You were looking back at him like you were committing his every feature to memory, your stomach flipping at how beautiful he was, at how you could ever forget it, tracing the scar at his eyebrow, his flushed cheeks, his lips and noting the twinkle in his eyes.
ââYouâre not going to forget because the most powerful wizard alive already tried to make you, and it didnât fucking work.â
You smiled at him, resolutely. âI could never forget you.â
âThatâs right, babyâ he said as he leaned down to brush his lips against yours, lingering for just a moment, savoring it like it was the first time all over again.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ad1a509ea06829c94a2afbff7dddda36/bdcbfb626791484d-91/s540x810/b2c42fed90a996e7cfa81a37ea8f34ede6c3f71c.jpg)
taglist: @dustie-faerie, @urfavfrenchgrl, @darlingshecried, @thegoddessofnothingness, @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf @sleepiibunniiii @girllblogging777 @foivetimesacharm @clar2aa @broadwaybaby123 @slytherinscreamqueen @sectumsempraaa
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle fluff
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Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched
hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...
really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!
i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)
well
-------
Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.
Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.
But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.
So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.
The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness â easy to mistake for a flu.
Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!
The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.
Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.
Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.
After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.
At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.
They had an argument.
Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.
By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.
As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.
When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....
Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.
Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-
They had another argument.
Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.
After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.
It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.
He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.
Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...
Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him â shaking, bloody and alone.
...
The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.
#trail's gone cold au#smiles :)#it's a little dry but baah whatever it's already long enough#feel free to ask about more things but i imagine a lot of them won't have answers#the au is small and more just an exploration of the concept. open ending as well#yagotalk
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Kinktober Day 3 - Oviposition ft Dan Heng (Honkai Star Rail)
Soooooooo.... this got out of hand WHEEZE as it always does when it involves dragon eggs. I'm-.... I'm just hopeless atp. Buckle up I'm about to ignore canon and pull a lot of made up shit from thin air for the sake of horny, lmaoooo. Lovingly dedicated to @moraxsthrone
This is how Tang Tang was made//HIT
At first, you arenât sure if you heard correctly.Â
Dan Heng says nothing but pointedly avoids your gaze with a healthy blush on his cheeks.
âDid you say, uh⌠maybe I misheard but-â You start.
âEggs.â Dan Heng repeats. âDragon eggs, much smaller, of course, but they⌠could be viableâŚâ
â... Eggs.â You say with a blink.Â
Dan Heng sighs. âYes.â And turns around to stare and interact with a few screens. âAccording to some ancient records it seems, those who have fully realized their potential as draconic Vidhyadara and manifest the dragon-like characteristics and behaviors, could, in theory, be able to pass on genes and reproduce like our reptile counterparts.âÂ
He is still not looking at you. Scrolling mindlessly through windows of text and opening and closing tabs. Heâs nervous, you know it.Â
âChildren.â You blurt.
âYes, I⌠itâs understandable if you have reservations. There is time to consider, I donât want you to feel obligated to anything orâŚâ
Thereâs a bit of hope in his voice, your heart warms up and flutters. Children. Itâs been such an accepted impossibility in your relationship. Youâve entertained the idea of adoption someday. Now there could be a chance?
You just never imagined it would involve getting railed and apparently pumped full of-
You inhale, close your eyes, and decide to speak before you think too much about it. âAlright, but you have a lot to explain.âÂ
------------------
And so, he explains. In excruciating detail.Â
Dan Heng seems to be pondering aloud just as much as he is trying to explain the whole process. All an educated guess, though, as he puts it. Youâre working with estimations and are not sure how to feel about that but heâs put an incredible amount of research into it all and that, at least, soothes you.
Over the years youâve seen Dan Hang in many different ways and dealt with your fair share of⌠interesting Vidyadhara traits. Mates? Good. Funky dragon anatomy? Very good. Being protective and territorial over you? Yes. But eggs⌠will definitely be new.Â
Your back hits the mattress and you shiver nervously, only in your underwear. Dan Heng kisses you softly, his hand cupping your cheek. Like this his eyes have an almost ethereal glow and his long dark hair is unbound falling down his back. Teal horns crown his head, and though they arenât new you canât help but be amazed by them every time.
âHow do you feel? Are you sure about this?â He asks tenderly.Â
Youâre trying hard not to think too much about your previous discussions, sneaking a glance at his underwear out of the corner of your eye, or more accurately, at the large bulge in it.Â
You lick your lips nervously and nod âYeah⌠yeah, sure.âÂ
He sighs and smooths a hand along your shoulder. âIf you have changed your mind-â
âNo, no! I havenât I promise I just⌠Iâm nervous, thereâs a lot to consider andâŚâ You stare at him for a moment and remember, he is walking this path with you, just as lost and nervous. âI love you.â You smile reassuringly. âI love you so much. I want this.â
His breath comes out in a woosh and he leans forward again to kiss you.Â
Itâs passionate, demanding, his tongue tangles with yours and explores your mouth and you groan, your body melting under him, hands roaming each otherâs bodies. You see his teal dragon tail manifesting, swaying about excitedly before curling around your ankle possessively.    Â
He massages your breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers to bring it to a stiff peak, you whine and arch your back, he takes the chance to make short work of your bra and toss it somewhere along the dark room before your arms curl around his neck once more to pull him down into another kiss.
His hips buck into yours and he moans. Even through the fabric you can already tell this time something is different.Â
And honestly you canât wait.Â
Your fingers hook at the edge of his underwear, teasing, and start to pull down, Dan Heng groans and helps you discard his last piece of clothing, your panties quickly joining after and this is it. You stare.
Not just his gorgeous, thick cock youâve come to love so much but two. Two.
One is relatively normal, his shape and girth familiar despite the clear draconic hue from his dark uncut tip and soft ridges. The other slightly larger, with a pointier tip, not as strange as Dan Heng had made it out to be. The Vidyadhara had been all shy and hesitant about it, both out of embarrassment and perhaps because he was afraid it might scare you off.Â
Instead, desire pools between your legs. Oh, how you want.
âA-Alright, so first I should-!!â Any other words are lost in a strangled moan as you reach out and wrap your hand around the unfamiliar length. Itâs hot in your palm, thick and firm. Dan Heng hisses as you tentatively jerk it a bit, squeezing around the tip, itâs spade-shaped and neatly tapered, perfect for reaching deep and pressing on just the right spots.Â
Or so you assume, wonât know until you try.
He bucks into your hand with a grunt and you stare fascinated at the leaking tip, before either of you can process it, you dark forward and lap at it. âHng!â He tosses his head back and his hand flies to grip at your hair.Â
It tastes salty, slightly more viscous and you canât get enough of it, you gingerly kiss at the tip and mouth at it before closing your lips around the crown, itâs thick in your mouth, your hand teasing the rest of it.Â
You stare up at Dan Heng, his eyes shut tight, brow furrowed and face flushed all the way to the tips of his pointy ears, heâs tense and shivering, clearly holding back from rutting into the wet warmth of your throat.Â
So, you attempt to take him deeper, moaning for good measure so the vibrations drive him insane, and youâre rewarded with more pleasured noises that make your pussy clench.
âMy love⌠w-wait-â He gasps, you run your tongue along the underside of his length. âFuck-!â Ohhh heâs losing his composure, his grip on your hair tightening. When your other hand curls around his unattended cock, thumb swirling at the tip, he snaps. âEnough.â
You pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips and catching your breath.Â
Dan Heng pushes you back with a hand and you follow easily, back hitting the mattress and spreading your legs eagerly for him to slot in. He reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips, raising the slightly, his tail now curls around your thigh.Â
Your stares cross, love and lust mixing.Â
âAre you ready?â He asks, his thumb rubbing over your entrance, finding you dripping wet.Â
âYes, Aeons, yesâŚâ
He leans down to kiss you again, tender this time, thereâs a sense of intimacy that warms you. How you love this man, this dragon. The way he dotes over you, the way he breathes in your scent and kisses you and holds you close, tender.Â
He sinks two fingers inside you and you whimper into the kiss. He works you open slowly, reverent, pulling in and out, stretching them a bit and adding a third. Youâre squirming, desperate and worked up. Nails dragging on his back and shoulders. âDan Heng pleaseâŚâÂ
He kisses at your neck, nips the skin there with his fangs. âBe patient, I donât want to hurt you.â
âYou wonât. Please, just put it in. Breed me.âÂ
He stops, you hear a little growl, ragged breath on your collarbone, and suddenly the fingers are gone. You barely have time to miss them when that thick pointy cockhead is pressing against you.Â
Then it sinks in, the glide slow and gentle with Dan Hengâs careful movements. Â
And oh, oh- you feel him stretch you. Thick and long and so, so hot. It spears you open in the most delicious way, rubbing at your insides as he pulls out ever so slightly before fucking in deeper with slow rolls of his hips.
You toss your head back and moan. You feel so full, deliciously complete. The draconic cock settling deep inside as Dan Heng bottoms out, his balls flush against your taint and the second cock dribbling precum everywhere on your thigh and navel. Â
You take a moment or two to settle, both of you, and then he starts moving. Dan Heng pulls back and rolls into you languidly, slow and deep, testing the waters.Â
âSo good for me⌠so warm and⌠thigh-!â He murmurs against your skin, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach. You keen, arching off the mattress and meeting his every thrust.
The air is thick and heavy, he presses as close as he can against you, your legs lock behind his back as he gradually speeds up. Your thoughts are fuzzy, blissed-out. The room is a cacophony of moans and whimpers and the sound of skin on skin.Â
âI need- please- Dan Heng-!!â
The drag of his cock sets you alight, every nerve stimulated, pleasure building and buildingâŚ
âIâm closeâ He rasps out. Youâre about to tell him to come deep inside as he always does and then you remember.
âOh.â
Dan Hengâs grip tightens in the sheets, his thrusts slow to a crawl and you suddenly feel a subtle bulge pressing against your hole. âT-thatâs-â You say breathlessly.Â
An egg.
He presses his forehead against yours and rolls his hips a little more insistent, trying to ease it in âCareful nowâŚrelax for me.âÂ
Youâre trying but the pressure is intense and youâre already so full of thick cock. How can you take more? You whimper.
âIâm-â
âYou can do it.â
A dragon egg, a little dragon baby. A tiny piece of you and him joining to create something wonderful. This is why youâre doing this.Â
âAlmost thereâ His voice is a soothing balm, con contradictory to the way he ruts into you, pushing your limits. But the way his teal eyes almost glow, pupils pulled to slits, flushed and panting but so determined, staring at you with so much love. You bite your lip and cant your hips, muffling your cries as his cock slips deeper with every thrust.Â
It feels like an eternity when the ovipositor slips back all the way inside, and you cry out.
Dan Hengâs thumb traces your clit and while he canât really pull out, he fucks into you with a nice deep grind.
âDan Heng-!â You whisper, nothing more than a debauched breathless mess. âDan Heng, Dan Heng, Dan HengâŚâ
The coil in your gut snaps and you come with a scream, tears springing to your eyes and your walls fluttering around his length, easing the egg deep inside you. He fucks a few more thrusts into you and then makes a noise you never heard from him before, a sort of choked growl.
Then, he stills.
You spend a few moments catching your breath and Dan Heng nuzzles into you, kissing away your tears as you lie a full, overstimulated, flushed mess.Â
âBear with me just a little longer.â He pants, pulling back a a little to hover over you. You groan, having almost forgotten about this particular step and the promise of his other cock, the one more familiar to you.Â
He eases the ovipositor out of you slowly. The egg vaguely feeling heavy and round in your womb. You canât think straight as Dan Heng shifts against you, his other cock resting against your entrance before easily sinking in, smaller than the first, bottoming out immediately.Â
You sigh.
âI⌠I wonât last long.â He admits.
âBreed me.â You repeat. âOur egg will take.â
It seems like the right incentive as he starts fucking into you in a frenzied pace, pressing and pulling at your insides. You sob and squirm, uselessly trying to match his rhythm. He growls, groans and tips over surprisingly quickly, filling you up with sticky cum.Â
Your body sags, spent, aching, full, and so utterly satisfied. He stays lodged in deep and doesnât move. You both take a moment to come down from the intense high.Â
Dan Heng slides a hand along your tummy, smoothing the skin there and feeling the very small subtle bulge there. âMine. All mine⌠both of you.â He claims. Â
You place your hand on his and smile weakly.
He finally pulls out, making you groan at the emptiness, and maneuvers you both onto your sides, spooning you. He brushes at your hair and kisses the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings âYou did so well. I love you.â His hand rests on the soft curve of your stomach. The barest signs of a bump that could be easily missed. âRest.âÂ
You sigh deeply, content. âLove you tooâŚâ Comes out slightly slurred. And so, you rest.
#ascvhjsabcshabcksa bye#pssspspspsps Kel#ilu lmao#Dan Heng x reader#Dan Heng x you#Dan Heng smut#hsr smut#hsr imagines#hsr x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#honkai star rail imagines#honkai star rail smut#minors dni#kinktober#crys' kinktober#crys writes#fem!reader
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CW: p3do guy, violence
Thereâs an older boy in Damian and Timâs school whoâs had rumours about being a sexual predator, but apparently thereâs no âproofâ of it being real.
Tim does his usual research but unfortunately doesnât find anything concrete, so he just keeps an eye and ear out for if anything pops up.
Then, once some of the later after school clubs are done and Tim is waiting for his youngest brother, he sees the creepy guy talking to Damian.
Damian was trained by assassins and has the back bone of a steal rod, he can handle himself.
But the moment Tim sees the guy lick his lips and go to brush Damianâs hair out of his face, itâs like something takes over him.
He always argues with Damian, genuinely has moments ere he hates the brat, yet itâs not just his sense of justice that fuels is anger in that moment but something personal.
Familial.
Damian manages to stop Tim, but only after the creep has blood pouring from his nose and a few teeth loose or swimming in the blood in his mouth. Damian is shocked and confused, but heâs mostly mad and goes to shout at Tim for fighting Damianâs own battles when Tim picks to guy up by his collar and snarls in his face,
âDonât you ever, ever fucking look or touch my brother again, you understand? I donât give a shit who you are, I will fucking kill you.â
Tim drags Damian to the car and doesnât stop his heavy breathing until theyâre halfway home and heâs denied several calls from Bruce and Dick.
Damian doesnât want to admit heâs grateful, that he didnât think the guy was that kind of predator, but he needs to say something, so he settles on, âyou could have killed him.â
Tim doesnât nod or anything, he just looks down at his bloodied knuckles and mutters, âRed Robin doesnât kill, Tim Drake didnât make that vow.â
#tim drake#tim drake is red robin#tim drake is a menace#damian wayne#damian and tim#they get along#kind of#bat family#batfam#BAMF tim drake
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Eat Your Young pt.2
Part One | Masterlist
Coming down from the high that Aaron introduced you to feels impossible at this point. Following your very first encounter after his arrival, there isn't a day that he didn't make you feel desired and pleasured. And what better way to have him sated than letting him fuck you senseless out of pure unadulterated jealousy?
Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, masturbation, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, breeding kink, daddy & sir kink, unprotected, rough sex, angry sex, jealous!aaron, size difference, belly bulging, dirty talk, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pure filth, pussy-eater, bearded aaron.
You werenât sure what was waiting ahead when you accepted the job.Â
For one, it was a blessing, given your old employers were moving out of state and you couldnât go with them. They wanted to bring you, of course. They wanted you to come with them but you had to decline as you have plans of your own after you finish your studies. It was a hard decision to make. You were with the family for almost three years, they helped you through University so you donât drown in student loans and debt, and the kids loved you as much as you loved them. Even without telling you, you could tell their parents felt bad youâre losing your only financial support at the moment.
That was when Jessica was sent to you like an angel in disguise.
She was an acquaintance; a close friend to your employers, so in a way you knew the woman and some bits of her life. You knew that she was taking care of her nephew, although occasionally; a young kid named Jack. You knew that she loved looking after him but her new promotion at work demanded more and more of her time, so she and her brother-in-law had to look for extra help. Apparently, Jackâs father was a very busy man, as you were told.
And that was when you became part of the Hotchners.
For them, you were heaven-sent.
âIâm fine, JessâŚâ you mumbled over the phone as you read the street sign quietly. You were almost there, almost, heaving a little as you dragged your suitcase behind you. âOf course, Iâm nervous⌠you know how it is. Iâm not very good withâŚâ
âKids?â you heard her breathy laughter at the other line, more teasing than incredulous.
You chuckled in return, shaking your head. âFathers, actually. Itâs different talking to women and knowing how exactly they want things to be done. Fathers arenât like that. They expectâ they just expect you to figure out everything.â
âAaron isnât like that,â she assured you, her voice kind. âYouâll see. He knows how he likes things and will tell you so. Heâs a good man.â
Your heart hammered against your chest. He knows how he likes things. And he will tell you so. Thatâs supposed to be an assurance, right? So, why on Earth were you blushing?
Must be because of those damn pictures, a voice in your head whispered. Last nightâ maybe it was the nerves, or your plain curiosity after hearing many stories about the man that you let yourself get swayed by temptation. You were not one to research about your employers. A brief personal background was always provided by the agency to ensure that employees like you will be in safe hands, and it has always been enough. But last night, for some reason, you felt the need to know him.
In the past week you were negotiating with Jessica, you never met Mr. Hotchner. You thought it was weird and so reckless of him. Heâs a federal agent. You expected him to be paranoid, careful at a fault. Why wouldnât he insist on meeting firsthand the stranger who will take care of his son? The one heâll let inside his home? It seemed like he didnât care at all. All you knew was he was out on a case and wouldnât be home at least for a couple more days. You donât even know what this man looks like.
You met his son three days ago, though, and you already love the kid. Jack was a little shy at first, soft-spoken, but cheeky as he was polite. You wondered since then if he got that from his father. But you thought it was unlikely when you started digging information from the internet.
âSo seriousâŚâ you whispered as you plucked the cherry from the stem, chewing slowly as you continued scrolling through the available pictures of him on the web.Â
There were YouTube links that also popped out when you typed in his name. You knew heâs some kind of bigshot fed but it still shocked you when you realized Mr. Hotchner had to stand in front of the camera and make public announcements on the news. It was impossible not to notice that face. But the least you could say is he looks good. Then you had to stop yourself there and divert your attention to the flaws you could pinpoint.
He looks strict and scary. In every video you opened, there was a tight frown on his face. It looks like he barely smiles or doesnât know how to, and that heâs always constipated. What a poor man. You could already imagine your days in their household getting shouted at for being clumsy.
âYouâre here! Dad, sheâs here! Dad! Sheâs here!â the familiar voice of a young boy cut through your thoughts.Â
You stood still outside the closed gate of your new residence, peering over where a kid was running toward your direction, and an older man distractedly dribbling a basketball in a mini court. He was topless and sweaty. His arms strong, his muscles taut. And even from a distance, you could tell that he was watching you, too.
Then your eyes met and he smiled, warm and so kind.
At that moment you knew that this wouldnât be bad after all.
You glanced at the clock on the wall. Itâs lateâ later than you realized and Aaron still wasnât home after a long day in the office. Youâve learned not to worry too much as youâve grown accustomed to his late nights. He always comes home to you and Jack. But every night, there was a part of you that couldnât fully relax until you heard the sound of his key in the door.
The clock just struck half past 10 oâclock. Most of the lights were already dimmed and the house was filled with silence. Jack had just gone to bed. These past few days, you realized how things changed. It took you almost an hour to convince him to get off his iPad and stop the game he was playing with his friends, and another hour before he fell asleep reading you his book of choice for this week. Which explains why youâre still up at this hour.
The soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen was the only sound that accompanied you as you moved through the living room, gathering up Jackâs scattered Lego blocks and soldier figurines. It was all over the place. You told him countless times to clean up his mess before eating dinner, but he just shrugged you off and told you heâd clean it up later. Hours passed by and he seemed to forget about his promise as he was already engrossed with the weird game he was playing on his iPad.Â
Jack was growing fast. And as much as the thought put an ache in your heart, you knew this was also inevitable.
But the thing is, you have no idea how you should deal with these changes. You didnât dare scold him, noâ considering your growing relationship with his father. You didnât want him to think that you were crossing the line of acting like his mother, or a replacement for her. So, you thought it was better you wait for Aaron to come home and bring up this issue instead.
Another deep sigh escaped your lips as you bent down to pick up another handful of Lego blocks. Youâre ready to go to bed, already clad in your satin nightgown, a pale pink that clings to your curves; feeling soft and smooth against your skin. The thin straps would occasionally slip off your shoulders as you reach for more toys, and the hem would brush against your thighs as you move.
âDidnât think youâd still be upâŚâ
You froze at the voice, still bent over, before straightening up and turning toward the entryway just as Aaron stepped inside.Â
His presence filled the space immediately. Heâs still in his work clothesâ a dark suit that looks a little rumpled from the long day, his tie loosened and his shirt collar open. His hair was slightly disheveled, and you noticed the tiredness in his eyes that he tried to hide as he closed the door behind.
For a moment, his eyes lingered on you, taking in the way the satin nightgown hugged your body, the fabric clinging to the curve of your hips, the way the hem fluttered around your thighs. There was a brief flicker of something in his gaze, appreciative, and scandalously lustful. You saw the slight tug at the corner of his lips behind his thick beard.
âHi, gorgeous,â he greeted.
Your heart did that familiar, annoying little skip when he languidly crossed the room and caged you in his arms. He sighed deeply, kissed your forehead then your lips, before resting his cheeks at the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.
âRough day, Mr. Hotchner?â you wanted to tease him, but with his hot breath fanning over your neck, the coarse hair of his beard against your skin, your words came out breathless.
You heard him groan, his voice low and a little rough when he said, âYou have no idea, baby. Why are you still up, anyway? Did Jack gave you a hard time?â
âHeâs just growing, Aaron. Thatâs how it is.â
âSo he did?â he concluded, âIâll talk to him, baby. Thereâs just too much going on at work.â
You hummed and nodded, running your fingers through his hair, understanding and supporting him without needing any details. Youâve never pressed him for specifics about his work and you know that Aaron was carrying enough weight on his shoulders without you adding to it. But even so, there was something in his tone and the exhaustion in his face that made you hug him tighter.
âYouâre home now,â you said softly, massaging his scalp, âYou should sit down for a bit. I can make you something to eat if youâre hungry.â
Just then, you felt his teeth dug gently on the skin of your neck. âHow about I eat you instead?â
âAaronâŚâ you couldnât help but giggle, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
âHmm?âÂ
âNot here.â
He let out a soft grunt. âYou smell heavenly, baby. I want to fuck you.â
His voice was raspy, gruff from all the grueling hours he spent in the office. You squirmed and chuckled quietly as you felt his lips trailing wet kisses on your neck, the soft curve of your shoulders, and even your jaw. His thick beard tickling you with every little movement.
You let out a sigh, clamping your thighs as you felt the heat dampening your cotton underwear. âNot here, Aaron. Iâll finish- Iâll clean up this mess first.â
He didnât seem to hear you. The rough pad of his calloused palm roamed and caressed every inch of your clothed body. His hands moved to the curve of your ass, the swell of your breast, kneading your tits roughly on his hands while rolling your now sensitive nipples in between his thick fingers.
âI missed you so much, angelâŚâ he said in a whisper, âI canât get enough of your little pussy. You make me so hard, feel that?â
He guided your hand to the obvious bulge in his pants. Although that idea thrilled you, your fingers trembled in embarrassment and anticipation. You glanced up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your breath caught in your throat, while he hissed as you softly cupped and pressed your palm on his restrained cock, moving your hand experimentally in circles.
âFuck,â he grunted your name, you even saw a muscle twitch on his tight jaw. âSaw you innocently bent over when I stepped into that door. Itâs almost like youâre begging someone to ruin your tight cunt, is that right, angel?â
His hand found the dampness in between your legs, already pressing his thumb on your aching clit, yet it was the crudeness of his words that made you whimper. âS-sirâŚâ
âUse your big words, sweet girl.â
âNot s-someone, sirâŚâ you admitted. âJust you. W-want you to use me.â
A satisfied smile played on his lips.
âI know, baby. Want me to fuck you with my big cock, donât you? Always fucking ready to spread your legs for me, is that right?â
You nodded dumbly, blinking up at him.Â
âAre you a whore?â
âN-no...â you said unsurely, âNo, daddy. Not a w-whore.â
The dark look in his eyes brought you back to the memories of earlier in the morning. He gave you a small smile. âYouâre daddyâs baby, I know, little girl.â
Like he always does, Aaron woke you up earlier with his face buried between your legs. He was lapping your dripping cunt like a madman, licking and sucking with his expert mouth. Two of his thick fingers were pushed deep inside you, making a lewd squelching sound as he nudged the sweet bundle of nerves inside. Your legs were trembling uncontrollably all you could do was moan and tug on Aaronâs hair. When he looked up to see your face, his beard was wet and a string of saliva was hanging from his lips and to your puffy folds.
You already came twice today. One from his mouth, as promised. And one from his big, leaking cock. He had your legs wide open, his hand pressed on the back of your thighs until you were folded almost in half, and rammed his big cock in and out of your weeping cunt with vigor. His eyes were focused on where you were both connected, watching in awe how you willingly swallow his thick cock in your body. He enjoyed watching the bulge appear in your stomach with every deep thrust.
He called you sweet names as he came inside you, flooding your womb with his warm cum. It took him all the self-control (and a message from Morgan) not to bend you again over the sink as he watched you walk to the bathroom, his release slowly dripping down your legs. And he wished you only knew how he wanted to push it back inside and keep his cock buried in your raw cunt for the rest of the day.
- - - - - - - â â
The Saturday sun beamed over the soccer field where kids are darting back and forth in a burst of energy. The sidelines were lined with parents and family members, all chatting and watching the game with varying degrees of attention. You were standing among them, your eyes following Jack as he weaved between the other kids, his face bright with determination. Every now and then, his laughter carries across the field, and you couldnât help but smile as well.
Aaron was beside you, his arms crossed as he watched Jack with that focused intensity he always seemed to have when it comes to his son. You could tell that as much as they were both competitive, he was worried that some accidents may happen.Â
âIâm going to check in with Jack for a minute,â Aaron informed you as he let go of your intertwined hand, nodding toward the bench where Jack was sitting during a break. âBe right back.â
You nodded and watched in silence as Aaron strode across the field toward Jack, the sun catching in his dark hair. You took a deep breath, relaxing a little now that you were alone for a moment. It feels good to be outside, to be with Aaron, but you hate the weird glances some mothers were throwing at you. As if you were doing something illegal.
Just as you were about to take a seat on one of the folding chairs, a familiar man approached you from the side, his expression friendly. You recognized him as one of the other parents and father of one of Jackâs friends at school, though you donât recall his name right away. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and a warm, easygoing smile.
âHey there,â he said with a chuckle, gesturing toward the field. âQuite a game, huh?â
You smiled back, letting out a small laugh. âTell me about it. My bones could never. Iâm exhausted just watching them.â
The man laughed, then glanced over at the field before turning his attention back to you. âIâm Tom, by the way,â he said, offering his hand. âIâve seen you around a few times⌠and my son told me last night he and Jack partnered for the bake sale activity at school.â
You shook his hand. âI think I recall Jack telling me about that bake sale. Is Jake your son?â
âYes, thatâs the one,â Tom replied, nodding fast and chuckling. âI thought youâd think Iâm just making up excuses to come up to a pretty woman and start chatting with herââ
âPretty woman?â you smiled at the compliment, glancing up at him.
âWell, yeah. AnywayâŚâ Tom grinned shyly, clearly pleased. âYeah, my son was crazy about beating the other boys or something like that. Tell you honestly, I have no idea what to bring. Iâm useless in the kitchen, but I donât want to be that guy who just shows up with store-bought stuff, you know?â
You laughed softly, nodding in understanding. âI do get it. But itâs a good thing they can choose a partner. If you want, I could help you out. I make a pretty mean batch of cookies.â
Tomâs face lit up with genuine gratitude. âReally? That would be amazing. I mean, only if you have time to accommodateâ I donât want to impose.â
âOh, itâs no trouble at all,â you waved off his concern. âI like baking, plus I can invite Jake to come over so I have another little assistant.â
âOr me?â The man teased. âJust kidding. That would be incredible. You just saved me from embarrassment. The old ladies at school⌠theyâre very, you know.â
The sound of your laughter tangled in the air. But as the laughter fades, you felt a subtle shift in the air. You unconsciously wandered your eyes around and realized Aaron was standing just a few feet away, his eyes trained on you and Tom, his expression intense. His strong arms were crossed, and there was a tightness in his jaw that wasnât there before.
âHey,â you greeted, offering Aaron a small smile as he stepped closer. âEverything okay with Jack?â
Aaron nodded, though his eyes briefly flickered over to Tom, taking in the easy conversation youâve been having. âHeâs fine,â Aaron replied, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of something sharper, something controlled. âJust needed a little pep talk.â
Tom, the poor man oblivious to the tension, smiled at Aaron and offered his hand. âHi, Iâm Tom. We were just talking about the kidsâ upcoming school bake sale.â
Aaron shook his hand, but there was a slight stiffness to the gesture. âAaron Hotchner. Jackâs father.â
Tom nodded, then focused back on you. âThanks again for the offer. If itâs alright, I was thinkingâ maybe I should grab your number? You know, just so we can coordinate for the bake sale and all that. Would make it easier to figure out what to bring.â
He was just being friendly and practical, thatâs what you know. But the suggestion lingered in the air awkwardly. You could feel Aaron tense beside you, the shift in his posture subtle but unmistakable. With hesitation, you glanced at Aaron out of the corner of your eye. His expression has hardened, his jaw clenched just enough to be noticeable, and there was a flash of something dangerous in his eyesâsomething possessive, territorial even.Â
âI donât think thatâs necessary,â Aaron stepped in, his voice low and edged with barely restrained anger. âIf you need anything, you can go through me.â
Tom blinked, clearly caught off guard. He forced out a chuckle, trying to brush off the tension with a good-natured grin. âI didnât mean anything by it, man. Just thought itâd be easierââ
âYou donât need her number for that.â
You swallowed hard, feeling everyoneâs attention on the growing commotion. Aaronâs eyes were still fixed on Tom, his stance rigid, his body language screaming of a barely controlled fury. This wasnât just about the number.
Tom raised his hands slightly, clearly trying to defuse the situation. âHey, no problem,â he said, though there was a hint of confusion in his eyes as he glanced between you and Aaron. âDidnât mean to step on any toes.â
You forced a tight smile, trying to lighten the mood. âThanks, Tom. Maybe we can let the kids decide and start there.â
Tom nodded again. âYeah, sure. Iâll catch you both around.â He gave a quick wave before turning and walking back toward the crowd of parents, his pace a bit quicker than before.
As soon as Tom was out of earshot, the silence between you and Aaron felt heavy. You could feel the heat of Aaronâs anger, his jaw still clenched as he silently watched Tom disappear into the distance.
You glanced up at Aaron, raising an eyebrow in confusion. âWhat was that about?â
âWhat?â Aaron finally tore his gaze away from Tom, turning to face you. There was a storm in his eyes, it made your breath catch. âI didnât like the way he was looking at you,â he admitted, his voice rougher than before. Then he mumbled, âOr him having your number. Why would he have your fucking number for? Bake sale and all that, that fucking idiot.â
You grimaced at his admission, of how easily he admitted what he felt. Youâve never seen Aaron like this beforeâ so openly protective, so possessiveâ and it stirred something deep inside you that was too intense to put a name on.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. âHe was just being friendly, Aaron. It was harmless.â
âMaybe to you,â His voice was still tensed as he retorted. âBut I didnât trust him. And I donât like the idea of other men thinking they can just⌠move in like that.â
You bit back a smile, a little amused by his jealousy.
âWe were talking about bake sales, not making any plans to run off together,â you nudged his arm with your elbow teasingly.
Aaron took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he stared down at you. âOh, so you can joke. Do you think this is funny?â
âWhat? Of course noââ
âJack will be out on a sleepover,â he leaned closer to your ear just to whisper, âWeâll fucking talk later, hm? Save your explanations âcause Iâll fuck you like a whore.â
Your breath staggered as you pressed your lips shut. You knew by then that it was going to be a long, long night.
- - - - - - - â â
The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang as you and Aaron stumbled inside, your bodies pressed tightly together. His big, calloused hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into your skin as your mouths crashed together in a rough, desperate kiss.
Everything felt hazy, like you were moving through a dream, but there was nothing gentle about the way you were kissing him, or the way his hands were gripping you. It felt like he couldnât get close enough. It was frantic, dirty, almost reckless, as if both of you were on the verge of losing control and neither of you cared.
You barely noticed the door swing shut behind you as Aaron pushed you roughly up against the wall, his mouth never leaving yours, his breath hot and uneven as he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through your body, but the only thing you could focus on was himâ his scent, his warmth, the feeling of his lips on yours, the way his strong body felt pressed up against you.
âAaronâŚâ you managed to gasp out between kisses, your voice breathless. You could barely think, your mind clouded with desire, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea, a litany. âD-daddy... slow- slow... down...â
His hands were everywhereâ on your waist, your hips, sliding down to the curve of your thighs as he gripped you tightly, pressing his bulge against your needy cunt. You gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed by another fierce kiss as his body pinned you harder against the wall, pressing you there as if you might disappear if he let go.
âIâm s-sorry⌠D-daddy, pleaseâŚâ
âPlease what?â he groaned against your mouth, his lips trailing down to your jaw, then to your neck, the coarse hair on his chin scraping against your skin as he kissed a heated path down your throat. âNow youâre sorry? Bet you fucking liked the attention earlier. Thought you arenât a whore?â
âNo. Iâm sorry, daddy. Iâm sorry. Iâm notââ
His rough hands slid up your sides, gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up and over your head with a quick, impatient movement. The cool air hit your skin, but it was immediately replaced by the warmth of his touch as his hands moved over your bare skin, his fingers digging into your flesh like he wanted his mark so deeply ingrained in your skin and your whole being.
âFeels like youâre forgetting who you belong to.â
You shook you head, moaning as you felt his hand travel closer to your heat. âNo, no. I belong to you, sir. Only you. Iâm so sorry, daddy.â
âAre you?â he barked a taunting laugh. âAnd why do you belong to me then, little girl? Why does this pussy belong to me?â
âBecause⌠b-because you take care of m-me, daddy.â
âI fucking do, donât I?â he remarked, tracing soft circles on your clit through the rough fabric of your jeans. âAnd Iâm so fucking good to you. So why are you fucking ungrateful, angel? Batting your eyelashes and giggling with other men like a cheap whore on the streets?â
You felt like crying. Tears welled at the corner of your eyes, your heart hammering painfully against your chest. You messed up and now heâs mad. But you donât like the words coming out of his mouth. You only want to be daddyâs good girl.
âIâm s-sorry, sir. Wonât happen again, I-I promise.â
âNo, baby. I bet you it wonât,â he pulled back for a second, his eyes dark and filled with something primal, his chest rising and falling with the force of his ragged breaths. âIâll fuck you until your little bellyâs round with my cum and youâre pregnant with my child. Iâll knock you up so every man will know whose cock split your tight cunt open. You like that, little girl? You want to be a good whore for daddy?â
You nodded and grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him back down to you, crashing your lips together again as the two of you stumbled further into the room, barely able to focus on anything but each other. Your legs hit the edge of the couch, and before you know it, Aaron was already manspreading in front of you, while you knelt in front of him, your hands laid on your lap.
âAtta girl, look at you,â you keened at the praise, biting on your lower lip as you waited patiently for him to remove his shirt and finish unbuckling his belt.
âCan- can I suck your cock, s-sir?â you said weakly. âPlease?â
Aaron hissed as his cock sprang free, slapping the base of his soft stomach. His cock was already hard and leaking, the tip shiny with beads of precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. But still, you waited for his permission, glancing up at him innocently, patiently.
He leaned on the couch and pumped his length slowly, an amused smirk on his lips. âRemove your pants.â
You whimpered and did what he told you. That wasnât the permission you were waiting for but still you obliged eagerly. Your eyes focused on his hand slowly fisting his hardening cock before glancing up and meeting his eyes. Aaron let out a deep breath as he took in your naked body, your tits, your now swollen lips, and even your thighs that you were subtly rubbing to create some friction.
âPlay with your tits, baby,â he said gruffly, âPut on a show for me like a good girl. Go on.â
There was something possessive in his gaze, a wildness that youâd never seen in him before, but it sent a thrill directly through your wet core. You played with your tits, kneaded the soft mound, and pinched your nipples making you whimper pathetically.
Aaron pumped his cock a little faster, his hungry eyes following your movements. âSpread your legs, want to see that pussy of yours.â
It felt humiliating, to scamper on your knees to follow his orders. But still you did. Because the moment you opened your legs for him, Aaron let out a loud growl and gripped his cock tightly on his fist, as if he was trying not to cum just by the sight of your wet cunt. You felt happy with his reaction.
With trembling fingers, you opened your puffy folds to show him how much you desired to be fucked, your clit swollen, your cunt desperately fluttering and clenching on nothing.
âIs that all for me?â
You nodded, your body tingling with pleasure and pride.
âD-daddyâŚâ you sounded meek, all up for the taking. âWant you, p-please. Sir, please? Please?â
You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath as he thumbed the leaking tip of his big and veiny cock. In a swift movement, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you harder, deeper, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you sigh in relief.
âRide my cock then. Show me how much you want it.â
There was hunger in him that matched your own. The sound of your highpitched whining and Aaronâs deep grunt weaved through the air. You sank down his big cock, your cunt clenching to accommodate his girth. Aaron was so big you donât think itâs possible to get used to it, the burn of the stretch was there, but it was heady and intoxicating.
âAaron,â you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as your fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more, needing him. The intensity was overwhelming, but you canât stopâyou donât want to stop. âD-daddy, help. Help, please.â
âPathetic,â he growled against your lips. With one sharp thrust, he plunged the rest of his cock into your raw cunt.
âT-thank you, sirâŚâ you mewled at the feeling, grounding your hips in slow circles. âGood- feels g-goodâŚâ
His lips trailed back down your neck, your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His beard scratched your skin. Every touch, every kiss, feels like fire, igniting something primal deep inside of you that you hadnât even realized was there.
âDoes it, angel? Whoâs making you feel good right now?â
You arched your back, pressing into him. âY-you, sir. J-just you...â
A harsh slap landed at the side of your thigh.Â
âLouder!â
âYou, d-daddy! Only y-you. OH MY GOD, AARON!â you screamed, hiding your flushed cheeks at the crook of his neck as Aaron plowed his cock so deep into your frail body. âYouâre making me feel g-good. You fuck me so well, daddy! I love your cock, you own me, you ow-â
You heard a low growl reverberate through his heaving chest. He propped his knees at the edge of the couch for better leverage. You felt his cock pulsating deep inside you, his thighs strong beneath your trembling legs. Your vision was blurry with unshed tears and the force of Aaronâs cock ramming inside you. The noise leaving his open lips was dirty, primal, so filthy all you could do was take it.
You let him ruin you.
Let him use you to his heart content.
Like thatâs all youâre worth for.
âIâll fuck my baby inside of you, little girl, âs that what you want?â he panted beneath you, his hips staggering a little. âIâll make you all round and pretty. Everyone will know whose whore you a-areâŚâ
Yes, yes, yes. You couldnât bring yourself to say. You just whimpered, your voice raw and absolutely fucked out. You just let yourself feel how his cock assaulted your tight, little cunt. There was a familiar coil in your stomach, and then the familiar squelching sound.
âI-Iâm s-â you squealed loudly, high-pitched and frantic. âI-Iâm coming, âm c-coming, daddy, ple-â
Aaron grunted and plunged his cock on a particularly deep thrust, feeling the tip nestle at the sweet bundle of sensitive nerves that made you roll your eyes. You felt Aaronâs cock slide out of your used pussy, a gush of clear release dampening Aaronâs belly and the floor below.
âF-fuck! Look at thatâŚâ
âOh- oh my go-â you bit your lower lip in overstimulation, yet you didnât do anything to protest when he thrust his thick cock inside again. âToo much⌠t-too much, sen-sensitive. D-daddy! P-please, no more!â
His cock slid out the second time you squirted. Another gush of release dampened the carpet below. The force was too overwhelming your knees buckled, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You heard Aaronâs pleasured grunt as you clenched even tighter around his cock, your velvety walls hugging his girth like it was molded to be there.
âS-stop, d-daddy! S-stopâŚâ
He scarcely heard you. You could feel every inch of him, the way his body moves against yours, the heat of his skin, the sweat, the strength in his hands as they explore every part of you. He groped you like you were nothing but a fucktoyâ one that he will discard the moment he finally got his release.
âSee this, little girl?â he grabbed your neck and forced you to look at your belly. You whined at the faint sight of his cock bulging against your skin. âThatâs h-how deep I am, you feel that? Thatâs how well you take me. G-good girl, baby.â
You nodded. âS-so deep, d-daddy. You make me feel s-so goodâŚâ
âIâm so closeâŚâ you heard him whisper.
You traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension beneath his skin as his breath hitched against your neck. With the rest of your energy left, you lifted yourself and met his desperate thrust. The sound was lewd, disgustingâ so wet and filthy.
The world outside disappearedâthere was no sound, no movement, no thoughts. Just Aaron. Just him and his big, girthy cock, and his desperate thrust. Beyond the heat of his body against yours, the endless ropes of warm cum flooded your fertile womb. You only closed your eyes and let him take you. Take everything he wants from you.
âItâs coming out of your pretty cunt, baby. Look, youâre so full of my cumâŚâ Aaron said in awe a moment later. He got you lying on your back on the couch, your legs wide open, while he knelt in front of you. He prodded your puffy folds with wide, hungry eyes. âFuck, youâre so messy, angel.â
He licked the cum that dripped out of you. Your cunt felt raw and sore. Too used. So you whimpered as a protest. Youâre too sensitive. Too sated. Too much. Too much. Too muchâ
Aaron smiled smugly when he saw the drunk look on your face.
âGive me one more, angel?â
Happy 600-something, everyone! I know this is long overdue but it's better late than later, right? Anyway, hope everyone's well and healthy (I'm sick right now so don't be like me!) Drink a lot of water and eat well. As always, I appreciate every like, replies, reblogs- everything. Thank you so much for the support. I love you all. See you on the next ones! xx
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#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner smut#criminal minds smut#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female!reader#bearded!aaron hotchner#bearded aaron#daddy!aaron hotchner#daddy!aaron
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"Who is this Karen?"
Preview: How the boys react to a Karen lashing out at you?
Warnings: Slightly longer read than usual, but you get to see how they talk smack to a Karen for disrespecting you :>
ZAYNE
You stood in line, awaiting for your turn to get into the popular restaurant that you and Zayne were planning to try out. Zayne had dropped you off in order to search for a parking spot, claiming that it is way more efficient for one to just wait in line. Right when it was about to be your turn, you stood up, smoothing your skirt and stepped up towards the reception table but someone had beat you to it, pushing you physically to get you out of their way, risking you nearly stumbling. "Hey." You reprimanded the lady in the big red coat, her head tilting towards you with a scrunched up frown on her face. "You can't just do that, you have to line up according to your turn."
The lady scoffed and simply waved her hand off, mocking you in a tone you had never heard from anyone in your life. "Apparently you do not know that this restaurant runs on a star rating don't you darling? First-comers like you should shut up and wait while VIPs like me deserve to be tended to first." You were in a state of disbelief, slack-jawed, fists tightened, ready to mutter a string of colourful curse words in front of this lady before a hand gripped onto your shoulders and you turned.
Zayne stood next to you, assessing the situation that he had spotted from afar as he was coming closer to the restaurant. "Are you alright?" He glanced down towards your legs, to spot for any injury but when he noticed nothing stood out, he rubbed your back as a comforting gesture before he stepped forth towards the woman. "Excuse me." He stated and the lady turned, with the same expression as the first time. "I believe you have to be in line. It wasn't right for you to push someone just to get in front of the line."
"You are not the restaurant owner, talk to me again and I will call the police." Her voice was up an octave now, clearly offended at the both of you calling her out on her mistakes. "This is a restaurant that runs on point systems! Do your research before coming onto me you brats!" Zayne seemed indifferent towards her, she is just like another patient of his that may be suffering a psychotic episode amidst treatment. It is no stranger to a doctor of his calliber.
"Scream much more, and you will get wrinkles on your face." Zayne drew air signs, marking out the spots on her face. His tone was collected, informative even. "Your lips are peeling and your skin is sagging on the edge of your jaw. If I were you, I would get myself checked out for any cardiac anomalies." His statement made the lady gasped in horror, hands immediately flying up to touch her cheeks. Zayne only took his phone out and showing her his medical ID. "Just some words of advice from a fellow cardiac surgeon. You should not delay any further, I think your heart requires immediate attention." He quirked an eyebrow and watched as the lady panicked, albeit judging him silently under her breath and stepping off to get back into her car (that was parked illegally by the street) to leave.
With the lady leaving, the both of you managed to secure your seats fairly quickly. Walking into the restaurant, you turned to ask Zayne about the diagnosis earlier on and he replied with a soft chuckle. "It works once you flash them the ID." He pulled out the chair for you as he always would, waiting for you to be seated before he continues, seating himself down. "No harm in fighting stupidity with stupidity."
RAFAYEL
"So, today we will be going to this beach that I had always been talking about. Are you excited?" Rafayel turned his head over to you when he is at a red light, smiling at you and taking your smaller hand into his. He placed a chaste kiss onto the back of your hand and proceeded to rev his engine when the lights turned green. The date had been planned for more than a week as Rafayel was busy with exhibitions and you too, with your own work. Hence, when the time comes for the both of you to meet, it is only natural for your boyfriend to plan for a romantic getaway.
Approaching the beach, you could taste the brine in the air when Rafayel had opened the roof on his convertible to let you get a better view of the ocean. The seas are mimicking the skies, one owning dashes of sparkles while the other has fluffy cotton balls hung on them, both adding up to be a picturesque scene. It was a right choice for Rafayel to make judging by how enamoured you are with the scene ahead of you. He revved into a driveway and parked right next a red sedan, alerting the lady next to them. "Who do you think you are?" She immediately questioning, sunglasses pushed up onto the top of her head when she squinted her eyes to get a better view of the both of you. "You are going to hit my car!"
Rafayel nonchalantly got out of the car, hands thrown up in an act of surrender. "Lady, calm down. We mean no harm." He then sauntered over to your side to open your side of the door, holding his hand out for you to take, all while still trying to hold a reasonable conversation with the lady who had not stopped accusing him of wanting to hit her car. "As I've said lady, I do not have the wish to hurt anyone. I apologise if my skills scared you." Due to his indifference, it only got the Karen riled up, stomping out of her car and coming right up to both of you. Rafayel instinctively shielded you, his height still towered over the woman.
"THIS IS MY BEACH AND YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO TRESSPASS, YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN?!" She angrily pointed a finger at him, her bikini suggested she is here for the beach as well. "So it is either you both get the hell out of here, or I am calling the cops." Grabbing her phone out of her small clutch, she begin dialing the number on it and pressing it to her ear. You looked towards Rafayel with a worried expression, but he only held a smirk as he listened in on her conversation. "Yes! This man with a convertible is trying to kill me in a crash--yeah, okay you talk to him!"
Then she handed her phone over to Rafayel, which he took into his hands and pressed it against his ear. For a man who seemingly 'broke-the-law', Rafayel is not taunted. "Hey there, yeah. Yeah that's me. Yeah, she is claiming that this beach belongs to her." His eyes glinted a hint of playfulness, smile widening at the Karen. "Can I report this for tresspassing or...okay, yeah, I'll call you back if she starts anything on MY BEACH." Specifically emphasising his words, the woman choked onto her breath, looking at Rafayel as he gave her back her phone and tilting his head, still smiling. "A word of advice, next time, if you're gonna play with fire, just be ready to get burned, yeah?"
SYLUS
Sylus would rather be surrounded by thousands of the strongest wanderers now than to be in the grocery store with you right now. This burly, manly man does not see himself to be a fitting piece of a puzzle within a grocery store. Everywhere his eyes darted, he catches sight of men with beer bellies pushing carts with babies while referring to a long, floor-panning grocery list, or a mother who has too many children to provide welfare for, or maybe a family where most of the time the wife is the ruler of the house. No, Sylus is not a sexist, he just holds too much of an ego for his masculinity that he feels like he does not belong in a grocery store. Staring down at you, he sighed inwardly. Regardless of what he had thought of, what he held as a belief, here he is still, nothing different than those wife-pleasers he witnessed littered all over the store.
âHow long are we going to be here for?â He groaned, holding up the basket slightly higher when you had gotten your pick of the better watermelon. âN109 does not run by itself given its current glory you know.â His mockery only got you rolling your eyes at him. You would admit, he is a scary man for the eyes, but once you had gotten to know him, gosh, this man would bow to puppy eyes and wheedling words. Feeling your throat getting scratchy again, you pointed at the vitamin water that was placed in the basket and Sylus cracked open the cap then handed it to you. You gulped the drink down your throat, trying to gain moisture to rid it of the scratchy feeling before you felt someone tapped on your shoulder and you turned around.
The lady who tapped your shoulder was skinny, body the shape of a trunk and with hair so blossoming that Sylus may have outwardly mocked her to be a tree. But the man does watch his mouth whenever he is around you. âYoung lady, you canât drink from the bottle like that without paying for it! That is called stealing!â Her loud exclamation got some people turning their heads and you could feel the embarrassment crawling up your back. You fumbled with the cap and was about to say sorry before your boyfriend took up the space next to you, his 6â2â height made the woman looked like a garden gnome, with weird tree-like hair.
âWhy canât she? She is paying for it afterall.â The corners of his lips curled up, but it resembled an amused smirk rather than a smile as he watched the lady below him started to act out. If he were to be alone right now, there is no doubt that this woman would perish before she could utter another word. But, as what he had always believed in, violence is only to be utilised strategically. And using it on this lady, in front of you, in a public area, would result in serious consequences, so he decided not to. But, this does not mean he would back down either.
âYou are supposed to buy things before you consume them. Donât you know how the law works?â The lady was clearly pissed, voice raising even higher to create a scene. âI am going to call the store manager on you to get you and your girlfriend reported for stealing!â At this rate, she would only cause more trouble than necessary. Sylus simply clicked his tongue with a âtchâ and he tilted his head slightly, his right eye taking colour of a bright scarlet. Then, you watch as the woman in front of you tripped over nothing and she fell face-first. You gasped, wanting to go forward to help her but an unseeable force held you back and it got you figuring out the cause of her trip. Sylus was using his energy manipulation skills to get her to practically trip on air.
âLetâs go.â Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed onto your hand, his smirk widening as he lead you to walk through the aisles to get to the counter to check out your items. When he was confronted with why he did that, the confident man simply quirked up one of his thick eyebrow and retaliated. âYou think I would back down easily if anyone comes at you like that princess? I would downplay the act of punishment for your sake, but I won't stay idle like a trophy husband sweetie.â
XAVIER
Xavier had came up with the idea to bring you along for some clothes shopping for the upcoming team building event which involves a masquerade ball. A couple of days ago, he had to sit through hours of you sifting through your closet, looking for any gowns that could be reused for the second time until you reached the realisation that you do not own a gown because 1) itâs not practical and 2) itâs a huge waste of money and 3) it does not fit your usual aesthetic for clothings.
"How about this one?" Xavier asked when he pointed at a store with ball gowns being displayed at their windows. Observing your hesitation to step into the store, he grabbed onto your hand and started leading you towards it. The pull was a bit of a drag however as you were stumping your feet onto the ground from wanting to enter such a boujee store. God knows how much those dresses would cost. "It's alright y/n, I will pay for it okay? You don't have to fret about a gown for days. Come on."
After getting assisted by the salesperson, you had managed to pick out a few outfits and you slotted yourself into one of the fitting booths to try them on. At the meantime, Xavier sat on the bench outside, scrolling through his phone mindlessly while he waited for you. He noticed a shadow loomed over him and he looked up, seeing a lady in her mid-40s looking down at him. "Is someone in the fitting booth?" Xavier nodded his head in return, stating that his girlfriend is inside. "Can you ask her to hurry up a little? I am pressed for time and I need to try on this outfit."
"Guess you will have to wait till she is done. She is only at her first dress." Xavier spoke calmly, already sensing discomfort from the way the lady had spoken to him. The curtain to the fitting booth then slid opened and you stepped out, adorning a blue sequin dress that matches the shade of Xavier's irises and he smiled in return, standing up and blatantly ignoring the lady as he walked up to you, gesturing his finger for you to turn and to show him the full outfit.
It was a sweet moment until you were interrupted. "Can you hurry up missy? I am in a rush and I need to try this on." She held up a dress in her hand, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "FYI, this dress does not fit you, you look fat in it." Your eyes were widened immediately when the lady mocked you. When you turned to Xavier, he too, bear the same expression as you but he was quick to recover.
"I don't think that is a nice thing to say when you should be the one to look at yourself in the mirror." His jab at the lady made her face immediately turned red, all adrenaline rushing towards her head. Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head while sighing. "I guess there is no need for you to try on that dress of yours, because I'm pretty sure it won't fit you."
And the next thing you know, the lady was rambling, shouting towards the employees for being mistreated but here you stood, next to Xavier, who is not one bit phased by her behaviour. Your boyfriend only watches the show unfold in front of him, and pats the top of your head, smiling at you. âShe started it first, I figured if it wasnât for her, I would have fell asleep waiting for you to be done with your fittings.â And you gave him a hard punch against his shoulder.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#lnds#xavier love and deepspace#fluffy#rafayel x reader#zayne x reader#xavier x reader#sylus x reader#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus
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feels like home - tyler owens x reader
Request: nope Pairing:Â tyler owens x reader Summary:Â after years, tyler is back in his home town. so much has changed, yet everything is the same Warnings:Â some swearing, mentions of a slight panic attack, there's a tornado (surprise!), some angst, thats it I think?? Word count:Â 2.5K A/N:Â I know nothing about tornadoes. I do know if glen powell asked me to go storm chasing with him I wouldn't hesitate. also running on literally 7% left of my battery but fuck it we roll!! enjoy!
Itâs spring. Tylerâs favorite season. During this time of year, itâs peak tornado season. Itâs when heâs in his element, doing what he loves.
Heâs driving across the U.S. with his loyal crew, chasing the tornadoes wherever they go. And always, inevitably, he ends up in his hometown. Itâs a small town, right in the middle of tornado alley.Â
Over the years, the people had started building their homes with stronger foundations that could withstand tornadoes better. Every year, there was still a lot of damage, but less than before. Most families had lived there for generations, and didnât have any plans to move.Â
When Tyler pulls up to the local bar, his crew is energized and happy. Theyâd just finished chasing a rather intense tornado, and everyone is still high on adrenaline. Theyâre going out for drinks before going to bed, as tomorrowâs weather forecast showed good chances of another tornado.
Little did Tyler know, someone he knows very well has also picked tonight to go out for drinks.
Youâre sitting at your usual table with a friend, blowing off some steam after a long day. You like the bar. Everyone knows each other, the bartenders know your drink order and always have it ready for you before you can even order it.
Itâs one of the things you missed the most while you were away; the kindness of the small town. You know everyone here, and you always help each other out. Especially during tornado season.
When Tyler steps in the crowded bar, he instantly spots a few familiar faces. Old neighbors, childhood friends, friends of his parents. Then his eyes land on you. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches you laugh at something your friend says. He had no idea you were back.
You look up when you see a group of people approaching you from afar. Thatâs when you see him. Exactly how you remember him, only a little older and with a belt buckle that says âtornado wranglerâ. But youâd known him long before he called himself that.
You and Tyler had dated all throughout college, when you were both studying meteorology. Everyone knew you and while most couples broke up during college, you and Tyler stayed together.
But then Tyler started chasing tornadoes and you moved to a bigger city to enroll in an advanced PhD program. You agreed to part ways. It just felt too difficult to still be in a relationship when the two of you were always away.
But you never stopped loving him. You still watch all of his videos. And you donât know it, but he reads all of your research articles.
Heâs walking up to you now, and you forget youâre in a crowded bar with a friend. You donât pay attention to the people he brought with him.
You smile warmly at him. âHey, Ty.â
âOh, I wouldnât do that, lady.â says one of Tylerâs friends. âHe hates when people call him Ty.âÂ
He looks at Tyler, expecting him to say something snarky or mean to you, but heâs got a soft smile on his face.
âHey y/n.â he says. âStill around, huh?â
âStill around. I moved back after graduation. Even though people in a small town can be a handful sometimes, with everyone knowing everything about everyone, itâs still home.â
âYeah, it is.â says Tyler.
Suddenly a few women approach Tyler, stealing him away from your conversation. Apparently, word got out the tornado wrangler is in town, and everyone wants to talk to him.
Tyler waves at you before taking off.
Youâre looking at him as he walks away, and your friend nudges you.
âI thought you guys broke up?â
âWe did. He went to go storm chasing, and I wanted to study more. It just wasnât practical to stay together.â
âBut you still love him.â
You turn to look at your friend. âI never said I stopped loving him.â
âSo⌠kind of like right person, wrong time?â
âYeah, I guess.â
âWhat are you waiting for then? Heâs here now, go talk to him!â
âNah, heâs too busy with his crew. It was nice to see him though.â
You spend the rest of your evening chatting with your friend. You try to focus on the conversation and to not let your mind wander off to Tyler. He really looked good. And his crew looked like they are fun to hang out with.Â
When itâs getting late, you walk over to the bar to pay for your drinks. You say goodbye to your friend and head out to the parking lot.Â
You see Tyler and his crew standing around his red pick-up truck. Theyâre laughing and sharing a drink. Tyler spots you and waves at you from where heâs sitting on the hood of his car. You wave back as you get in your own truck.Â
âTell me, who is she?â says Boone, pulling Tyler from his throughs as he watches you drive off.
Before Tyler can answer, Lilly starts listing off possible answers. âSecret fiancĂŠe? High school sweetheart? Admirer? Girl you went on three dates with and then left?â she counts on her fingers.
âNo, none of that.â says Tyler.
âDefinitely looks like a high school sweetheart. Sheâs your age, from around here. I bet you two grew up together.â
Tyler sighs. Theyâre not gonna let this go. And since theyâre all going storm chasing tomorrow, theyâre probably going to annoy him about it until he answers them.
âWe did grow up together. She was not my high school sweetheart, more like my college sweetheart. We broke up when I became a chaser.â
âLet me guess, she always called you Ty?â says Boone.
Tyler smiles at the memory. âShe did.â
âOhhh my boy is whipped!â says Boone, giving Tyler a playful shove.Â
âOh, fuck off, Boone. Thatâs all in the past. She probably has someone waiting for her at home.â
But you didnât.
You hadnât really dated anyone after your breakup with Tyler.
Sure, youâd been on a few dates people had set you up with. But somehow, it never felt right. It never felt like it did while you were with Tyler. Loving Tyler was just so easy. Like you were always meant to find each other.
When he walked in that bar earlier tonight, he looked different. Older, sure. But also very handsome. You could tell he loved being a chaser. You wish you couldâve talked more with him, just the two of you.
The next morning when you wake up, itâs much earlier than you would have liked. You didnât have any plans today and wanted to sleep in. As you lay in bed, you hear the rain slam against the window. Youâre used to it, and it usually doesnât wake you up.Â
But as the rain starts to get heavier, you hear the wind is picking up as well. You knew there was a tornado warning for this morning, but it wasnât for your town. The tornado was supposed to move away from you.Â
Thatâs when you hear the siren. Itâs almost part of your routine, itâs so familiar. Youâre quick to get out bed, grabbing your phone. As you race downstairs to get to your shelter, you pull up the weather map. Which shows the tornado going straight for the main street of town. Fuck.
You hastily pull on your boots and open the backdoor to your garden, which is where your shelter is. You run toward it, the wind whipping in your face and the rain soaking your clothes in seconds.Â
It takes a lot of strength to open the shelter doors with the wind threatening to slam them closed again. Finally, you make it inside after nearly falling down the stairs. You close the doors and bolt them.Â
Now all thatâs left for you to do is wait until the tornado is gone. You switch on the tiny light and pull out a blanket. Thereâs not much here except for some canned food. If Tyler saw this, you just know heâd immediately go to the store to get more supplies âjust in caseâ.Â
Thinking of him, you pull out your phone. Youâre thinking about calling him, when you notice you have no service. The tornado must have already done a lot of damage.Â
Meanwhile, Tyler is in the of the storm, near the tornado. Theyâre ready to get some great shots, but something changes.Â
The tornado was supposed to head east and then die out, but itâs too slow. Tyler squints his eyes, looking at it. Itâs almost as if itâs getting closer again.Â
He realizes whatâs happening at the same time Boone yells âItâs turning around!â
And heâs right. The tornado is heading west again. And Tyler knows whatâs there. His hometown. Your hometown.
âOh, fuck.â he says. He prays that youâre safe. He knows youâre smart, youâre probably inside the shelter by now. But he still worries.
They wait out the tornado before driving back to the town, prepared to help in any way they can. Debris is scattered throughout the streets. People walk around, helping each other or trying to salvage whatâs left of their possessions in the rubble of the houses.Â
Ever since they got back, Tyler has been trying to call you. Youâre not picking up. Heâs desperately telling himself you know the protocols. Hell, youâve lived in tornado alley your entire life. Youâre probably taking inventory of the damage on your property right now.Â
Meanwhile, youâve been listening to the storm outside. Itâs all quiet now, you donât hear any rain or wind, or sirens. You climb up the stairs and push open the doors. Except they donât open. You check all the hinges, which are all still secure in place. Then why wonât the doors open?
You walk back down the stairs as you slowly start to panic. Thereâs probably debris blocking the doors. You have no cell service. Everyone is busy with their own houses. How long would it take for someone to find you?
Youâre trying desperately to stay calm. People will find you eventually, right? But soon the tears are streaming down your face. Youâd been in this shelter before, but itâs terrifying when you canât open the door and all you have is a dim light, some canned food, a blanket and a phone without service.
Tylerâs crew is helping the people in town. But he gets increasingly more worried when you wonât pick up a single of his phone calls.Â
Lilly notices his worried glances at his phone while sheâs handing out food to people. âTyler.âÂ
He looks up at her. Lilly jerks her head to his truck. âGo see if sheâs alright. You know where she lives, right?â
Tyler nods.Â
âGo. Weâve got it here.â says Lilly.
He takes a quick look around. Lilly is right, his crew can handle it here. He just really needs to know if youâre okay.Â
Thereâs too much debris on the road, so Tyler ditches his truck and walks the rest of the way. He could walk this route with his eyes closed. The longer he walks, the more destruction he sees and the more the uneasy feeling in his chest grows.
What if you were somewhere buried in the rubble of your house and he never got a chance to ask you if you wanted to try again? To see if you still had that spark you had when you were younger? He knew you wouldnât let him go that easily. It had hurt you both when you broke up. And seeing you again, it reminded him of all the time you had spent together during college.
When he finally gets to your house, he sees itâs mostly still intact. The walls are still standing, but the roof needs fixing. Most of your windows are broken and a tree had fallen on your truck.
Tyler rushes to the front door, which is hanging off its hinges. He quickly enters your house.
ây/n? y/n! Where are you?â
When you donât respond, he tries calling you again.Â
âCome on, pick up, pick up.â he mutters. Still no answer. Damn it.
Where would you go during a tornado? Heâs forcing his mind to stop spinning out of control so he can think logically. Then he remembers you have a shelter in your backyard. How could he forget? He even helped you stock it in case something like this happened.
He runs through your messy living room, pieces of broken glass crunching underneath his boots. When he gets outside, he sees your shed â or whatâs left of it â on top of the doors to your shelter.
ây/n!â he yells again, running toward the shelter.
You faintly hear a voice yelling your name. You briefly think youâre actually going insane at that point. Your panicked mind is making this up because it knows Tyler gives you a feeling of safety. Tyler isnât here, heâs most likely outside still chasing the damn tornado. Thereâs no way heâd be here.
ây/n are you in there? Give me a shout if you can hear me!â
But thatâs unmistakably his voice. You hear sounds outside near the door.
âTy?â you say quietly.Â
âCome on! Are you in there?â
âTy!â you say, louder this time.
Outside, Tyler lets out a big sigh of relief as he continues to draw away the debris from the doors of your shelter.
Finally, he can see the handle of one of the doors and yanks it open.Â
You squint your eyes at the sudden sunlight. Your eyes are quick to adjust, and they land on Tyler.
Standing there, breathing heavily, looking at you and holding out his hand for you to take.
âTy..â you say softly. Fresh tears start to run down your cheeks as you take his hand and allow him to pull you out of the shelter.Â
He pulls you against his chest, one hand coming around your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you against him.
You allow yourself to get lost in the familiar feeling. Tyler still wears the same cologne, and you still fit perfectly in his arms. God, you missed him.
âI was so scared.â you mumble.Â
âI know, sweetheart, I know.â says Tyler.
He pulls back slightly so he can look you in the eye. âAre you hurt?â he asks.
You shake your head. âI got to the shelter as soon as I heard the sirens, like you taught me.â
Tyler smiles at you. âYou did good.â
âI brought my phone but there was no service and then I couldnât open the door and I-â
ây/n.â says Tyler, cutting you off. âYouâre alright. I got you out.â
âThank you.â you say, burying your head in his chest once more.
The two of you stand there for a while. You both need this right now.
âTy?â you say.
He hums in response.Â
âPlease donât leave again.â
He presses a kiss to the top of your head.
âIâm never leaving you again, sweetheart.â
A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHereâs the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please donât repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love,Marit
#listen... glen powell in a cowboy hat and boots and jeans and a button up shirt..... good lord#going to see twisters again next week lets goooo#please please please send me Tyler requests <3#twisters#tyler owens#Tyler owens x reader#Tyler owens fanfiction#Tyler owens fanfic#Tyler owens fanfics#Tyler owens fic#Tyler owens fics#Tyler owens oneshot#Tyler owens oneshots
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âĄď¸ đ¤đĄđ đđŁđđ˘đđđ¨, đŁđđŹ đđŞđđ đđŞđđđđđ¨ âĄď¸
characters: sub!AFAB!scar x gn!dom!reader
warnings: dissected organ and blood mentions, fingering, dry humping, squirting, clit pinching, light masochism, overstimulation, bondage, degrading, possessive and obsessive behavior, scar giving off HEAVY yandere vibes, reader has lightning powers so inappropriate use of lightning powers
notes: in loving memory of scar's onigiri mankođ dividers from cafekitsune. this is a repost since tumblr is being a bitchđ
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/43e439be186cf86538426bcb2cefb3a0/464095dd350e8855-59/s540x810/ef5454104f331d58426800131af7af0a7cd42130.jpg)
being constantly stalked from the shadows can cause a person to do all sorts of things, y'know?
it started out small.
gifts being left at the front of your doorsteps, flowers, bouquets, sweets and snacks even ranging to weapons or things you needed to make a new weapon being left in the same old gift box. red, with white satin tied up in a cute bowtie at the front. you thought it was a cute way for your little secret admirer to notify "hey, it's me again!" to you each time they leave a gift.
but then, it started to get... a bit odd.
the gifts that used to be left at your doorstep with a knock would now be sitting inside your home. on the couch, the kitchen counter, the bed when you sometimes walk into your bedroom or even on the bathroom counter. the same old red colored box with a white satin in its stupid bowtie. as much as you appreciated this gesture of your secret admirer leaving you all sorts of gifts and presents, it had started to become... creepy. the mere thought of this person stalking you, knowing where you live, constantly coming back over and over to leave a gift for you to now downright breaking into your home.
you notified a midnight ranger of course. who in their sane mind would allow this thing to keep happening, even if they do have powers to protect themselves?
two rangers came by your home. snapping a few photos of the evidence, checking the locks and windows, under the bed, in the attic, basement - almost any and every place someone could hide in and places someone could break in through - they found nothing. whoever this stalker of yours was, they were a good one at getting rid of their traces.
of course, still worried for a citizen, they asked you to stay at a relative or a friend's place for a few days as the two rangers stay behind to capture your stalker when they come back eventually. bad move. the exact next morning, a few more midnight rangers came knocking at your friend's door, asking for your presence. the moment you saw the rangers, you felt a churning feeling in your gut. and you were right to feel that because turns out your stalker had ended up murdering the two rangers who stayed behind, dissecting their hearts and sewing them into one to create the cartoonish heart shape.
all wrapped up in red box and white satin bowtie with blood on the ends. paired with a small note slipped under the bowtie.
"do you like my gifts, darling :)?"
this was getting out of hand. you need to find a way to confront your stalker by yourself and take matters into your own hands. or else, who knows how many more midnight rangers have to die until your stalker comes to you. hell, even your friend could be killed because you chose to stay in their home for the night.
you began with a list of suspects on a notebook. red and white and apparently strong and deranged enough to kill not one but two midnight rangers as if they were still in training. mortefi? no. the researcher was too busy and besides, he's a standing citizen. completely normal and able to keep himself in line without turning into a stalker, fanatic fan. danjin? sure, she was unusually strong for a resonator who had just awakened her tacet marks but she would never kill people over someone she simply adored. encore? now you're the one who is going crazy here, [name].
for a brief moment you thought of a certain someone who had his eyes on you for a little while and wasn't afraid to show his infatuation with you. scar, one of the overseers of the fractsidus organization. one insane bastard, strong enough to kill two rangers as if they meant nothing to him and not to mention, he had a history of stalking you before. the hunch wasn't far fetched but now, all that you needed to prove this theory of yours is to capture your stalker. and if your stalker really is indeed scar, then you needed to teach some sense into him.
carefully, setting up traps in your own bedroom, all the while continuing to act if everything was okay and you weren't feeling eyes digging holes into the back of your skull, you slipped under your covers. turning the lights off, making sure to not exactly clutch your hand to trigger the trap, you closed your eyes as your breathing slows and the windows to your living room slides open.
âthat certainly didn't take long...â you thought to yourself, entertained by just easy it was to fool your stalker and how quickly they slipped inside your home. just a few minutes after you laid your head on the pillow too.
the sound of footsteps grow closer, light and quick like the pitter patter of raindrops against your window making their way up the stairs and towards your room. your stalker seem to hesitate, their shoes stopping just outside your door as if they were straining their ears to listen to your breathing. as if satisfied with your act of being asleep, the sound of the door to your room opening is heard. the gentle shuffling of clothes and light heel taps making their way into the room. you could hear the box in their hands. that cursed red box with its white satin tied into a bow.
their steps make their way to the side of your bed, on the nightstand beside it as they place down their box of gift with a quiet thud. holding your breath, slowing your breathing as much as possible, you listen on to your stalker. light breathing, a constant shuffling noise and the scent of⌠ash? that scent gave it away. the scent of ash, sulfur and a very old dried blood.
scar.
of course it was him. of fucking course it was that damned overseer of the fractsidus. an old enemy, a rival and certainly the very same bastard who had a history of stalking you before.
as much as you wanted to jump out of your bed and strangle the bastard by his throat at this very moment, you held yourself back. grinding your teeth slightly in annoyance and biding your time until a clawed finger pushes back a strand of your hair from your face. that was the perfect moment for you to take action, squeezing your hand as the sound if electrical strings is heard, binding scar in his place and hitting him with a high voltage. throwing the blanket off of yourself, you jump away towards the other side of the bed from where scar was. slow and cautious steps towards where a thud is heard, peeking over the edge of the bed, you see his unconscious body. tied up with electrical cords of your making and zapped unconscious.
âyes, itâs me again. that person who was being stalked and gave a call⌠yeah. i managed to capture my stalker and heâs currently in my bedroom right now. if you could send a few patrollers or midnight rangers, it would beââ
âaww⌠getting right of me so soon, darling?â scar speaks up, voice scratchy from the earlier stunt you pulled, shaking his head as he tries to clear away any lingering unconsciousness. he wasnât sharp enough to notice the trap you laid out for him to step into nor was he strong enough to endure the zap of your electricity. not like he minded. he wanted all the time in the world with you and if being tied up and shocked did the trick, he would have it happen to him all the time. as long as it was you who was doing the shocking.
abruptly ending the call â but managing to get through the main point of your call â you turn towards your captive. that annoying scarred face and the lopsided smile that he always has on his face. how much you wanted to wring out his neck to get rid of that smile.
âyou look way too happy for someone who got caughtâ you say, watching him for any sort of movement. nothing. he was just sitting there, kneeled in your floor like a well trained pet all the while keeping an eye on you with those mismatched, puppy eyes.
âwhat can i say? i slipped and iâm caught. but are these ropes and strings really necessary, darling? you have another plan for me?â he asks, wiggling his shoulders slightly as his smile grows at the furrow of your brows. yes, get angry, get agitated. he loved to see that expression on your face, that anger, that fire. how he wanted to stoke that little ember in your eyes until it turned into a blazing inferno like his own.
âwhy donât you learn to shut up first?â
âwhy donât you learn to zap me with just enough voltage to make me squirm?â
dear sentinels, this guy was really getting under your skin. he always did and he still does. that annoying smirk, the constant witty banter and the way he would push your buttons all the while whispering filth into your mind.
âbend me over the desk, darlingâ, âthe couch looking painfully empty and cleanâ, âmy zippers are unlocked, yâknow?â all sorts of erotic words and suggestions flow from his lips every time he opens them, painting this image in your mind. of him bent over the counter, a quickie in the corner, hell, he even once suggested you to just tear off his jumpsuit and fuck him to your satisfaction in his domain. no one would see or hear you two, as he coos out, dodging your attacks as a red card burns in his hand.
pushing himself up, he trudges his way towards where you stood at the end of your bed, arms still tied behind his back as he leans in close to you. too close. you could smell the sulfur from him even more distinctly now.
âcome on, darling. donât act so cold with me. you and i have known each other for so long, itâs about time we take our relationship to the next levelâ he coos out, leaning in closer and closer while you lean away from him. until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, causing you to fall back onto the soft mattress while scar climbs on top of you. cheeky bastard was grinning so smugly, straddling your lap like it was his favorite seat in the world. maybe to him, it was.
âin your wet dreams. thereâs no relationship between us except for the times we nearly kill each other. thatâs itâ you hiss, propping yourself up on your elbows to glare at him. the anger in your eyes and the way you easily disregarded him like he was nothing made scar shiver, his hips moving tantalizingly over your groin like he was trying to seduce you.
âoh darling! how did you know i have wet dreams about you? in fact, one of them was just like this! with you under me and having me all tied upâĄď¸â scar coos out, his expression brightening like a puppy who just got his favorite treat. sneaky bastard, twisting your words and using them against you while getting what he was after. you were sure this is what he wanted the most. to allow this to happen, to let himself be under your mercy. it didn't surprise you at all.
though, you would be an idiot to say you didnât recognize it. the signs of arousal that he emitted. the slight flush of his cheeks, the heavier breathing and the wetness coating his and your pants. bastard was getting turned on. but⌠so were you.
hesitantly, your hand reached for the zipper of his jumpsuitâs crotch, the area already wet with his slick. scar nearly whined at that, moving around on your lap as if trying to get you to unzip it quickly. getting the hint, you did as he wanted. the zipper opening up slowly, his dripping cunt coming on display for you.
âtsk tsk. so eager to get fucked youâre not gonna bother to wear underwear?â you ask, clicking your tongue as your thumb comes up to circle around his enlarged clit. scar nearly stumbles over, his knees buckling as he thrust his hips, trying to get your fingers inside himself already.
âwhy⌠would i need to wear one if iâm going to be visiting you, darling?â the pyromaniac groans when your thumb leave his clit, leaving him dripping and clenching around nothing. but his disappointment is short lived when you push a finger inside him, stretching him open and making him gasp out loud. just a single finger, buried to the second knuckle and he was already whining as he tries to ride your finger to the best of his abilities. if his hands were free, he would have placed them on your shoulders for balance as he bounces himself over your fingers.
alas, that was not the case and scar was forced to make do with his current predicament, grinding himself down onto your finger while you watch him unamused. when he tried to bounce on your finger, it slipped out thanks to the excessive slick coating your finger, making him whine at the loss while his cunt eagerly wait for your finger to be back inside him again.
âaanhgâ! gyaah⌠mgghhâĄď¸âĄď¸ ohhh darling, you sure know how to please my cuntâĄď¸â a choked moan comes from him when you push two fingers inside his gummy walls, prodding and fucking him open. knuckles deep inside, you make a scissoring motion, making his knees feel weak as he sits down on your lap, letting you finger him as much as you wanted. he was thoroughly enjoying himself it seemed, as he grinds his hips back and forth, his soft cunt weeping more and more of his juices as they coat your hand.
âyou⌠you really know how to please a cunt, donât you, darling? all mmghâ! ah anngh ah ah ahhâĄď¸âĄď¸ all deepâĄď¸ and roughâĄď¸ f-feels like youâre trying to get me to squ-uuuhncckkâĽď¸âĽď¸!!â scar trails off, his cocky words dying in his throat, replaced by a shrill squeal when you zapped his cunt with a low electricity. opening his mouth, the pyromaniac tries to say something again only to get cut off by another high pitched scream when you decided to zap both his cunt and clit at the same time.
âlike i said, you really should learn to shut your mouth, scarâ you tease him, a pleased grin on your face as you take in the mess he had become on your lap. thin trail off drool on his chin, flushed red and hazy eyed. there were even tears forming in his mismatched eyes, looking like he was about to cry.
âm-make meeehnnâĄď¸âĄď¸ make me th-then, darlingâĽď¸!â scar manages to say, a whiny groan falling from his drool covered lips as your fingers pick up their pace, now easily fucking into his loosened hole. filthy lewd shlap! shlap! shlap! could be heard, the wet noises of his cunt mixing together with his punched out moans, turning into a blend of beautifully filthy noises.
âfilthy whore who loves to walk around with his pussy out should learn to hold his tongueâ you coo out, mocking him for his jumpsuit style as your fingers curl upwards, searching and finding that one spot that caused him to see stars in his eyes. a sharp gasp falling, his head thrown back as his legs shake like a weak lambâs while your fingers continue to hit that one spot. pushing your knees up, you allow him to lean back on your knees, arms struggling against the strings and ropes while you continue to abuse that bundle of nerves inside his gummy walls.
âshh-shuttt awghhh unngh up!! shut up, dawrlinngggââĽď¸âĽď¸!!â scar trails off, a wet, punched out wail coming from him as your free hand pinches at his hardened clit. pinching at the bundle of nerves, your fingers squeeze around it simultaneously as the rough pads of your fingers hit his g-spot, making scar let out delirious noises of pleasure. he was far gone to hold a proper conversation with you and you could see that. the tears that were collecting in his mismatched eyes now falling in fat globs, red and grey eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his legs thrash around on the bed.
âdirty dirty boy, look at yourself. not only making trouble for me with your stalker tendencies but also getting my sheets and clothes dirtyâ you coo out, the fingers that were pinching at his clit tugging on them slightly. scar let out a loud scream at that, throwing his head back as his legs squeeze around your waist tightly as he comes undone on your fingers. but you werenât planning to stop anytime to soon. you needed to teach him a lesson to stop bothering you while also letting out the pent up anger that he caused by deciding to be a prick.
âwho gave you the permission to cum, you filthy whoreâ you bite out, the anger and annoyance seeping into your tone as your fingers stretch his cunt open, continuing to push against his sweet spot. scar started to sob, the pleasure being too much, nearly bordering on pain but his masochistic spirit wanted you to keep going and to never stop. he wanted both the pain and the pleasure. anything, anything you gave him, he would gladly take greedily.
âdarâ! darling!! dawrlinnnââĄď¸ âm sorry... âm sorry âm soo showwryyâĄď¸âĄď¸âĄď¸ d-didnât mean to be soo baawddâĽď¸âĽď¸â scar sobs out, punched out, whiny moans and shrill squeals making it harder to understand what he was saying, but you managed to catch on. despite his words and his wet apologies, you knew he wouldnât stop being a nuisance at your side. that was just how scar was. unreadable, maniacal and a pain in your ass. so even if he does walk away from your bedroom today with drunken apologies and trembling legs, you knew he would just come back again the next day, searching for more. especially now since he has gotten the taste of how good your fingers could fuck his dripping cunt open until he cries deliriously.
sobbing out apologies mingled with how your fingers were fucking his pretty pussy until it bruises, scar lets out a weak whine whenever you pinch at his clit harder than usual. the occasional violent jolts and squeals falling whenever you zap his gushing cunny, crying about how mean you were.
âmmghhh⌠go-gonna cumâŚ! gonna cum againâĄď¸ aamgh eeckâĽď¸âĽď¸ g-gonna cum on your f-fingers againn..! d-darling! darlingdarlingdarlingdarl-iiinnghâĽď¸!!â babbling incoherently about his rapidly nearing release, scarâs head is thrown back, mouth slack open in a silent scream when you zap both his pussy walls and clit at the same time. legs trembling like a lambâs, threatening to close if it werenât for your body between them, his body jolts violently as his gushing cunt squirts out his cum, painting your entire hand and pants with his slick.
fingering him through his high, you withdraw your fingers only after he whines for a break, the mess that he created didnât exactly bothering him as he leans in to steal a kiss from your lips. a dazed attitude, drunken look in his eyes as he shoots you a lopsided grin, scar leans in to whisper when he would be visiting again next time. and he specifically asked for more than just your fingers. the greedy bastard.
âiâll see yaâ then, darlingâĄď¸!â before you knew it, he pulled out one of his red cards from his back pocket, opening a portal for himself to escape through just as there comes knocks on your front door.
#nobu.writes#wuthering waves x y/n#wuthering waves x you#wuthering waves x reader#wuthering waves#sub wuthering waves#sub wuwa#sub scar#scar x you#scar x reader#sub!character#sub character#sub yandere#sub!yandere#afab character#x dom reader#dom!reader#dom reader#gender neutral reader#wuwa x reader#wuwa smut#wuthering waves smut#shanghen
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Charles almost gets killed by a torture hex. Pain is the most effective way to kill a ghost, and Charles is so so strong but not built for suffering like Edwin is, and Charles is already fading when Edwin finally finds the right counter-spell and drags him back to solidity.
Two days later, Charles gets almost torn in half by a giant monster, and Edwin knits him back together with giggling ringing in his ears and green light at the corners of his vision. Edwinâs hands dig into Charlesâs wounds and pull Charles back together with a combination of magic and sheer force of will and every twitch of Edwinâs fingers drags tortured sounds out of Charlesâs mouth, and itâs right about when Edwin pulls the last bit of skin together and Charles screams that Edwin thinks please, God, Despair, Death, whoever is there, whoever cares, let me take his pain, Iâd take all of his pain to never have him hurt again.
Itâs another day after that, when heâs reading through a book of healing spells to find a way to make sure this never happens again, that he gets an idea.
Itâs another week, full of research and muttering and scribbled runes, before he comes to Charles with what is, as far as Charles knows, a pretty standard request. âIâve found another protection spell for you. Stand there - to your left a little - good. It canât stop you from getting injured, but it will take most or all of the pain of the injuries.â
âOh, wow, thatâs brills, mate! I could fight way better like that. I mean, pain is almost all ghost injuries are, anyway, yeah? Thatâs amazing!â
Edwin casts the spell, handwritten across several sheets of paper, and the glow as it sets in to Charlesâs skin blanks out his vision long enough that he doesnât see Edwinâs skin flush golden, too.
Edwin declines Charlesâs suggestion to test the spell outside of combat, so Charles is still a little unsure for the first fight, but when he gets slashed with a cat-claw blade and feels absolutely nothing, he looks down at himself, grins almost maniacally, and wades back into the fight like heâs unstoppable.
He does seem to be, in fact. He fights like Superman, all but invulnerable, and Edwin says his combat efficiency has increased over 30 percent. He throws himself at monsters and ghosts and demons and takes them down with barely a twinge, no matter how hard they hit.
Edwinâs taken to standing further back than he used to in fights, which Charles figures is because the fights are getting into melee more than they used to.
Theyâre fighting some bastard with a hellwhip, all fire and iron barbs, when the first thing goes wrong. Charles gets hit, and he feels the twinge thatâs all he gets from the worst hits now, but through the twinge he hears Edwin gasp.
He turns to Edwin and the whip hits him square in the back as he turns, and Edwin lets out a strangled groan.
Edwin seems to realize Charles is too distracted to do his job, because he dispatches the whippy bastard with a spell, and Charles is to him in a moment. But Edwin snaps and brushes him off and demands to tend to Charlesâs injuries, because not hurting doesnât mean they canât be dangerous. As he tends to the wounds, Edwinâs breath keeps hitching, and Charles canât get him to say why.
A week later and Charles gets hit with that same damn torture hex, because apparently they didnât do a good enough job of defeating that wizard the first time. And he thinks for a second that this might be what finally breaks through Edwinâs protection spell, but itâs still only a twinge, albeit the harshest one yet - but Edwin lets out a suffocated yelp from behind him.
Charles starts to turn, and the wizard looks frustrated, and throws the hex at Charles again. And Edwin goes down to his knees.
And the wizard hexes Charles again, and Edwin curls forward, his breath in quiet pants that for a second are the focus of Charlesâs entire world.
Charles puts some things together very, very quickly, and then before the wizard can try another spell, his headâs rolling on the floor.
â
Edwin has never seen Charles this angry at anyone, not in the thirty-one years theyâve been together. He had never imagined that Charles could possibly be this angry at him.
â
Charles screams at Edwin for hours, tears dripping down his face and vanishing before they hit his chest.
He pauses every hour or so and demands Edwin take off the fucking âprotection spellâ right fucking now, and every time Edwin refuses, and Charles starts yelling again.
Normally crying makes Charlesâs throat hurt, one of the few bits of quotidian pain that stuck with him to ghost-hood. He doesnât notice that it isnât hurting now until a bit after sunrise, when Edwin refuses again, and Charles notices his voice is hoarse and tight.
Charles stops.
He turns away.
âNo more cases, Edwin.â
âWhat?â
âI am not working on any cases, I am not doing anything that could put either of us in danger, until this spell is off.â
âYou canât - â
âIâll see you later, Edwin.â
Charles walks out of the office, and Edwin stands staring after him.
â
It takes a month. A month of Charles spending time out of the office, and chilly silences, and Edwin trying to make arguments for his position and only getting a few words in before Charles is out the door.
Charles gets back, one day, to see Edwin sitting on the floor of the closet, holding a box of Cluedo in his lap, which they havenât used since Charles found out.
âIâll take it off.â Edwinâs looking down at the box, refusing to meet Charlesâs eyes. Charles nods.
It doesnât take very long for Edwin to work the counter-spell, and Charles immediately tests it, grabs for the first magical weapon in his bag and presses it against his hand. It hurts, and he presses harder until thereâs a drop of blood and itâs accompanied by just as much sharp sting as it should be.
Edwin doesnât say anything about Charles believing Edwin might be tricking him, because Charles isnât wrong to, because he had, before. And if Charles doesnât trust him anymore, thatâs his right.
Charles sighs, looking down at his hand, then looks up at Edwin. âIf you ever break my trust like that again, Iâll - â he breaks off and looks back down. He sighs again.
âI wonât do anything. Iâll forgive you, because Iâll always forgive you, Edwin. But - please, please, please never do anything like that again, I canât take it.â
Charles is crying, and his throat hurts.
Edwinâs voice is hoarse too, as he promises, never, never again.
And Edwinâs far too far away, Charles thinks. He has been for the last month. For longer, pulling far away during fights and after them - but itâs best not to think about that. With his mind resolutely on the present, Charles steps over the space between them and pulls Edwin into his arms.
âLetâs play some Cluedo, yeah?â
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