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marthawrites · 2 years ago

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Harrenhal Butterflies

Modern Harwin Strong x fem reader

Word count: 3.7k+

About: Sparks flew between you and Harwin before slinking off together during a work dinner, and they continue to fly afterwards. Unprompted, you both slink off together once again during an elective work trip to Harrenhal. Tension ends up breaking in a most unexpected place.

Includes: Smut featuring reader receiving oral, light/playful degradation, some praise, some dirty talk, vaginal fingering, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story was inspired by the request "may I request revenge sex in someone else’s car with harwin strong?" from angsti who's no longer on tumblr. She probably won't see this but I still wanted to write and dedicate it to her! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

Working as a dispatcher for the City Watch had its perks. Three times a year, for "team building exercises", fellow employees would plan a day trip for those who wanted to participate. Luckily you were able to take the day off, which, for you, led into a long weekend – perfect! You were equally excited and nervous for this trip: a hike in Harrenhal amongst the lovely fall colors.

"Isn't Harrenhal one of the most haunted places in all of Westeros?" You asked one of your favorite co-workers, Sara Stark, as you both killed some time in the break room.

"It's said to be," she said excitedly. "Supposedly there's blood mixed in the mortar," she added with curious delight. Sara had been living in King's Landing for a year or so, and worked for the City Watch maybe half that time. Having lived in Winterfell her whole life she had a soft spot for dark folktales of the world.

You came to realize, affectionately, that people from the north were built differently.

You laughed, half nervous. "The woods are probably filled with ghosts! My time off request is already accepted, but maybe I'll skip going on this trip…"

Sara snorted and rolled her eyes. "Oh come on! Ghosts can't hurt you, scaredy cat!"

"What's this I hear about someone skipping out on the best hike of the year?" Harwin asked after overhearing the conversation. He refilled his coffee mug and leaned against the counter, mischievous brown eyes panning curiously between you and Sara.

It was stupid – absolutely stupid – how good Harwin looked in his uniform. Big, tall, broad… his dark curls mussed in a way that made you want to push your fingers through them. After yours and Erryk’s break up, you and Harwin were known to banter. Some office teasing was innocent, right? At least… that’s what you told yourself before the workplace dinner last month where you both had a steady buzz and ended up making out in the bathroom. In hindsight, making out in a bathroom was super gross. He looked so fucking handsome in his blue suit, though! Encouraged by alcohol, you couldn't stop your flirting tongue once it started. And, next thing you knew, he had you pressed against the hallway’s wall kissing you with no care of smearing your lipstick. Giggling, you dragged him into the nearest bathroom and locked the door. Aside from smeared lipstick and kiss swollen lips, nothing else happened that night. The flirting continued, however.

"The veil is thinnest right now and we're going to Harrenhal of all places!?" You asked, expression – comically – equally bright and uneasy.

"Oh please," he scoffed. "I grew up there and know the whole land like the back of my hand. It's not that bad," he winked. "You gotta come. It's gorgeous this time of the year."

"Yeah, scaredy cat!"

You groaned. "The peer pressure is suffocating!"

"Come on," Harwin drawled. "I'll stick close to you. Throw you over my shoulder and run from any ghosts if I have to."

Sara snorted. Harwin smirked. You blushed. "Fine. Fine! I'll go."

"Aye! There's my strong girl."

Whether it due to the location, time of year, or general disinterest, only a quarter of the City Watch's employees participated. You were surprised to see a couple of the higher elite squad, too. Targaryen's had to take their royal safety very seriously, and King Viserys – as well as any and all members of his family whom he deemed needed protection – always had a member of the Kingsgard near.

Harwin had spoken the truth: Harrenhal was beautiful in the chilly fall glow. Oranges, reds, and yellows contrasted starkly against gray clouds. Despite tales of hauntings, ghosts, and monsters, the surrounding land was deeply fertile. Native plants of all colors and sizes were on fiery autumn display. Trees, shrubs, and even mushrooms decorated the land in a fairy-tale fashion.

People naturally gathered in smaller groups while everyone waited to hear the day’s game plan. You, Sara, and Harwin were nearest the front. Sara happily chatted with you about mycelium and how excited she was to photograph and harvest fungi for her collection. Harwin and another man of the City Watch went over the plan one more time to make sure they were both on the same page.

All the while, you and Harwin made (perhaps not so subtle) flirty eyes at each other. You’d never seen him in casual hiking clothes, and doing so now made butterflies twirl in your belly.

“Alright, folks!” Harwin said with a clap of his big hands. A smile warmed his face as people turned their attention to him. “It’s about a three mile hike to the Rushing Falls. There’s a nice trail to the top of the waterfall, and from up there you can look across the God’s Eye to the Isle of Faces. Hopefully the fog will lift by then so we can get a proper view. It’s stunning this time of the year. After we’re done, we’ll all come back here and head over to Raventree Hall to share a meal together. That’s the overall plan! Any questions?”

Excitement buzzed in eagerness to start. “I have extra water and granola if anyone needs some!” Someone said. That was enough to break the ice. Sara, and others, began walking ahead – so much for her info dump about mycelium!

“Ah shit,” you groaned, running a hand down the side of your face.

“What’s up?” Asked Harwin, dark eyes soft and concerned as he looked you over.

“I forgot my spare lens in my car. I brought it so I could take some wide shots,” you admitted, half annoyed with yourself. Leave it to you to forget something even though you triple checked that you had everything! “I’m gonna double back and get it. I’ll catch up.”

He chuckled. “I’ll go with you. Don’t want any ghosties scaring you along the way,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek in an attempt to hide your smirk. “Pfft. I can handle myself.”

But, it was already too late. Harwin hollered ahead that he and you would be back in a few. If you could see Sara you knew she’d be giving you finger guns and a shit eating grin. She knew of your little crush on Strong and wasn’t above pestering you about it.

It was only the two of you, now. You peered up at him just in time to watch him point. “There’s a shortcut around this way,” he said, gesturing in the direction. “It goes through a small parking lot that leads to the main one.”

Nodding, you said, “sure! This is only my second time here. And it’s been a long time since then.” Alone with him, now, your mind drifted to the bathroom makeout session. It drifted even further as you remembered how his hands felt on your…

He smiled in a way that made you feel like he knew exactly what you were thinking; brown eyes twinkling with boyish amusement. He led the way and you followed close behind. The pathway wasn’t very wide, and you’d have to be tucked under his arm for the both of you to fit across it. If it were colder, or you bolder… you could probably get away with it. But, those same butterflies from before still twirled around in your belly making you feel more self-conscious than you cared to admit.

Right as you were about to walk out of the smaller parking lot and into the larger one, something unexpected caught your attention. You gasped. “What! No way. I didn’t even see Erryk. When did he get here!?”

“What?” Asked Harwin, looking between you and what stole your attention.

“There’s his Bronco! God I love that thing. I only got to ride in it a couple times before we broke up.” You two had been broken up for awhile now, and since then he’d done some work on his four door black Bronco. It had a lift, larger wheels and tires than what came as stock, and it was all blacked out. It looked good. And mean. You wanted to take the top off and drive it! “I’m gonna go look at it,” you said with mischievous delight.

Strong whistled beneath his breath. “Damn. That thing is nice.”

You b-lined it and tipped up on your toes to get a peek inside. “I want one of these so bad! This is pretty much my dream car. Truck. Whatever you call this thing.”

Cargyll really did have good taste. Harwin slowly walked around it and checked it out the whole time, taking notes of this and that as he did. Once he saw you looking through all the windows realizing that it hadn’t sounded any alarm yet, his dark eyes glinted with impishness. He pulled one of the back doors open. “That idiot didn’t even lock it!”

You squealed. “What! Oh my god,” you said as you swung the other backdoor open. “Holy shit. He’s lucky he took the keys otherwise you’d have to chase me down, a newly offended car stealer, on foot!” You sighed dreamily as you flopped on your back in the backseat. Your legs still hung out the car but you didn’t mind. It felt good – and fun – to be laying in someone else’s car without their knowledge. You giggled behind your hand; the risk of it gave you a rush.

“Bad girl,” he said as he leaned against the edge of the doorway your legs hung out of. You didn't even hear him walk around! “I'd expect better from you,” he added with an easy curve of lip.

“Are you scolding me?” You asked as you sat up.

“I am. A good, smart girl like you, threatening to steal a car like any petty thief?”

Something flexed in your abdomen as boldness took hold of you. Perhaps it was the risk that egged you on, or the way Harwin's mouth looked as his lips pouted in the slightest manner, or the way his brow furrowed beneath a wayward curl. Whatever it might have been, a thrill danced up and down your spine. “And what are you going to do about it, Strong?” You asked daringly, gaze lingering on his mouth before slowly flickering up to his regard.

“Tell me, pretty girl, did Erryk play these games with you in here?” He leaned forward to deliberately invade what little remained of your personal space, voice dropping lower the closer he came to you. That same easy curve of lip decorated his mouth while his gaze remained on yours, the blackness of his pupils beginning to widen in those deep brown irises.

The width of his shoulders took up all the space in the door and you swore you could feel heat coming off his solid bulk. “Not as much as I wanted…,” you answered, lower and slyer than his own tone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes before glancing to his mouth again, leaning closer into him as he did you.

“What a shame.”

In the next breath your mouths collided in an instantly searing kiss. Nothing about it was shy, or tentative, or reserved. The distant familiarity of his lips had you sighing in bliss against them. You grabbed at the front of his jacket – that odd water resistant material that somehow felt smooth and rough alike – and pulled him further into you. And, as if they’d suddenly gained a mind of their own, your legs spilled open to accept his wide hips between them. “I like this much more than a bathroom,” you mumbled through the kiss, grinning. Blood warmed your cheeks and fuzzed your mind; low muscles in your belly tightening with eager anticipation.

Harwin answered by holding the back of your head with one large hand, the size of it allowing him to graze his thumb along your cheek in a way that deepened your kiss. A pleased groan sounded from somewhere in his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he drawled, dragging his tongue against yours before biting on your bottom lip. “At your desk… in the break room… anytime I see you walking around the office. God. You have the perfect mouth for kissing.”

Heat thrummed beneath your skin and you were full on dizzy, now, drunk on Harwin’s words. “I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the last time we did it,” you admitted as you pressed your legs tight against him, wrapping your arms atop his shoulders.

He groaned again, louder this time. “If you wrap those pretty legs around me I won’t be able to help myself,” he said huskily as he kissed and bit all along your neck.

You wrapped your legs around him, then, pulling him fully against the heat of your body. Daring. Tauting. Needing.

“Mmm that’s what you want, isn’t it?” He growled. “Driving me crazy all on purpose now? You really are a bad girl.” He pushed his wide hands up the front of your body – over your hips, along your sides, up beneath your breasts to feel their weight upon his touch – all while leaving tiny love bites on your shoulder. “Will you let me make you feel good this time?” He asked, finally pulling away from you long enough to look at your pretty face and parted mouth.

Before you could stop yourself, you answered, “yes,” in a hot breathy tone. “Shit, yes. Please, Harwin.”

“Right here in your ex’s rig?” He asked as he slowly slid down the front of your body, thick fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings.

“Yes,” you squeaked, watching him. You lifted your hips in time with his hooking, and he wasted no time in pulling your bottoms down your legs until it caught on your shoes. Somehow it felt more lewd than having them fully removed.

Those big, calloused, warm hands felt over the smooth skin of your thighs. His fingers splayed as he felt down the full length of your legs, and then up again, fingertips denting into your soft flesh. “So pretty all sprawled out,” he whispered, shamelessly trailing the pad of one thumb up the center of your underwear covered center. Much to his delight it coaxed a little sound from you. “And so sensitive…”

“...please don’t make me wait,” you begged with soft doe eyes.

He smirked. “I don’t plan to,” he said as he pulled your underwear down. Instead of leaving them balled around your feet, however, he tore one of your shoes off and tugged your bottoms and panties off in the same motion. They still remained bunched up and hanging off one foot.

If you thought it lewd before, this felt dirty.

With Harwin’s palms holding your thighs open both his thumbs gently parted your folds, opening your pussy for his greedy eyes. “You’re such a good girl for getting all wet for me. Do you think you can stay quiet?” He asked cheekily with an arch of brow before kissing the front of your hip. He kissed the other side, too, and dipped his head low.

Just as you started to say something Harwin dragged his hot tongue up through your soaken folds. Your lungs swelled with excitement and the breath you gasped came out in a broken moan. “Oh my god…!,” you whispered when he lapped again and again, relaxed tongue sliding over your clit in a way that sent goosebumps tingling all over your body. One of your hands lowered to his hair and you shamelessly sprawled your fingers through his brown curls, tugging appreciatively when he lavished all his attention to your bud. “Mm fuck..! Just like that…!”

He moaned a satisfied rumble against your cunt. Turning his gaze back up to you, he said, “poor baby. Your little clit is so achy and needy, isn’t it?” While still looking at you he worked his tongue in deliberate motions, learning your body more and more by the second. He circled, and flicked, and kissed, and ‘mmm’d’ his approval into you. “What a sweet treat you are,” he said barely above a rumble. He didn’t stop lavishing your clit until your thighs were trembling beneath his hands.

“You’re gonna make me come like that. I’m close… ‘m so close,” you whimpered as you ground your pussy against his mouth, seeking more and more of him even as he was giving you all his mouth could.

“Shh… shh, quiet, princess. I know it feels good, but we can’t have someone hearing you,” he said, eyes dark and dancing, as he slipped a finger into you. He worked it in time with his tongue, then, curling and testing your walls. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. As soon as he found that wonderful patch of nerves inside you, he squeezed a second finger into you and pumped them in and out, hitting that spot every time without fail. He latched onto your clit, licking and sucking in tandem with his fingers.

Bliss, and electricity, and fire blazed through your body as Harwin pushed you to peak. Orgasm flooded your muscles with pleasure and you barely covered your mouth in time to muffle all those lovely sounds of release. Harwin pushed you through it steadily; prolonging without overstimulating. Once you stopped trembling he gradually pulled away from you, grinning. “I could do that all fucking day,” he whispered against your mouth before stealing your satisfied moans in a kiss.

You could still taste yourself on him. You needed more.

“I need more,” you purred, one hand grazing over the bulge at the front of his bottoms.

“Not here, princess. I don’t have a condom,” he replied with an edge of mournfulness – wanting nothing more than to bury himself in you and fuck you silly on his cock.

Butterflies filled your belly again as you answered, “I’m clean… and on birth control. If you are too..? Then fuck a condom.”

He twitched and somehow grew even harder against your palm with your words. “Fuck… gonna let me have all of your pretty pussy?” He fumbled with the front of his bottoms and you helped him pull them down. Lust overtook you and you were unable to answer, only able to help free his cock. He sighed in relief as it was freed. You gasped, too. It was like the rest of him; thick, solid, hot. He bit your lip as your hand wrapped around him, smaller and cooler than the rigid desire of his length. “Open your legs. You can take it, I know you can.”

You did as told, propping up on your elbows so you could look down the front of your body to watch as he pushed into you. He guided himself to your entrance and pressed forward, easing into you, slowly stretching you out around him. You mumbled something incoherent at the sight and gasped in a mix of pain and pleasure as he filled you to your body’s end. When he began to pull out your arousal gleamed on his cock. Your head buzzed and your desire soared. “More. Harder… faster.. Fuck me like you mean it,” you pleaded, spilling your thighs open as far as they comfortably could in the confides of your ex’s backseat.

Something changed in Harwin, then, and his gentleness began to crumble away. He held tightly onto one of your thighs and one side of your hip, driving into you firmer and quicker. “This pussy just needs to be filled so bad, huh? Don’t wanna take this big cock slow… no, you need it slamming in and out of you,” he growled lowly, accentuating his words with drives of his strong hips.

Wordlessly, you nodded at him with desperate eyes. You moaned behind a hand as he speared in and out of you; full, so full of him. The pressure, the stretch, the thrill of finally having him sent a second orgasm creeping along your spine. You wrapped your legs around him and drew him further into you.

“My poor needy girl. Should’ve came to me sooner if you needed fucked this bad,” he said, grinning, before sliding his gaze down to where your bodies joined. “This little cunt is starving, baby, you’re taking me so well.” He changed his angle slightly and picked up his pace, pounding into you with added vigor. If your moans weren’t muffled enough then the sounds of skin slapping on skin would be more than enough to give you both away. The Bronco, despite its size, began to rock with the motion of Harwin’s fucking.

If heaven was real, surely it was here.

Your legs flexed around him as your back arched, body tightening as Harwin pushed you to peak again. Your eyelids fluttered before they rolled closed, wholly blissed out. Climax washed over you and your walls convulsed round him – squeezing – urging him to join you.

And he did.

With one final thrust he buried himself as deep as he could be and unloaded into you. The warmth of his cum filled you in a way that had you sighing in relief. He panted, spent and deeply satisfied. “I’ll buy you your own Bronco. Whatever color you want,” he said as he pressed his forehead to yours, basking in the sensation of post-climax bliss.

You laughed. “You don’t mean that! Shut up.”

“I mean it. I saw a pretty blue one driving down the road the other day. You’d look so good driving one.”

Slowly you unwrapped your legs from around him and giggled. “Who knew Strong got so pussystruck?,” you teased.

Laughing, he carefully pulled out of you. “Ah, hell. You’re gonna have to sacrifice your panties to clean yourself up. Hiking with no underwear? You really are a dirty girl,” he quipped back.

Both of you took a minute to wipe clean and fix your clothes before walking away from Erryk’s rig as innocently as you could. Which, more than likely, wasn’t innocent at all. “You’re not buying me a car. But… maybe dinner?”

“Of course I’ll buy you dinner. And a beer?”

“As long as you promise we don’t end up in a bathroom or backseat of someone else’s car.”

“Ha! Last I remember it was you who egged both of those things on,” he taunted, glaring at you playfully.

Well, he wasn't wrong.

You snerked and slapped his backside before finally retrieving your lens from your car.

Now to come up with an excuse as to why you two took so long. Maybe no one would notice?

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main Taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @aemondtarqaryens @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

#house of the dragon #harwin strong #modern harwin #harwin x reader #harwin smut #harwin fic #harwin imagine

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sowthetide · 21 days ago

Note

First kid is a son who looks like Balon?

K.O right off the gate for Quen and motherhood.

okay i'm gonna do a quobb kid lore dump harvested from my various yap sessions about them. but i put it under a read more because i love you <3

okay so quobb's firstborn is eddara, theoretically conceived at the end of STRS. quen spent the entire pregnancy absolutely DREADING having to name her firstborn after ned stark, but their son kind of HAS to be eddard, you know? but then the baby ends up being a girl so quen's like yippee!!! i can throw this stupid infant on the ned-name grenade :-) which she does!

dara has the stereotypical stark look, so everyone compares her to auntie arya, but she's actually ned stark in a wig. despite being pretty plain, dara is intense in a way that is both compelling and intimidating. she's also a stone cold bitch (affectionate) who has a grudge against- you know, i was about to call quen a "cloth mother" but honestly she's not a cloth mother or a wire mother. she is simply not mothering these fuckass babies in any capacity, dawg. robb dotes on dara to make up for how obviously quen isn't suited to motherhood, but dara doesn't like his well-meaning ass either. anyway she's fostered with the dustins and graduates valedictorian from barbrey's finishing school for stark-hating hags

second is theon!!! :-) i call him normal theon a la visenyaism's normal jake bit. he looks unsettlingly like a young balon greyjoy, and he's named after greyjoy & stark kings, but he's literally just a chill guy. nothing much to say about this dude except his mommy resents him soooo bad for being everything/having everything she ever wanted 👍 normal theon is 100% aware of this, but he thrives on quen's crazy like one of those deep-sea bacteria that lives on hydrothermal vent chemical soup. also he has a bolton-frey freak wife who may or may not be planning to sacrifice him to the old gods, but he's not even worried about it. normal theon likes light beers and watching Da Big Game

third is torrhen, and like dara, he is a born hater. he's basically robb's mini-me in terms of looks and is rocking the most northern name of all time, but he gets sold down the river at age eight (read: is fostered on the iron islands since thick vic failed to produce a son and they need a male heir). torr takes to the reaver thing really well, despite never experiencing joy ever in his miserable life. inexplicably quen's favorite kid (probably something to do with him being gone for ten years, having wacky adventures in the stepstones with cousin rodrik pyke), but he has crazyyyyy mommy issues and is the iron islands #1 drywall puncher. incredibly conflicted about his northern vs. ironborn identity. ends up married to thick vic's daughter, but they have a surprisingly gentle/respectful partnership. rare arranged cousin marriage W?

forth is alannys!!! everyone calls her "little lanny" and she's my sweetie pie sugar plum specialest birthday girl <3 she has curly auburn hair, harlaw brown eyes, puppy fat she never grows out of, and is lowkey robb and catelyn's favorite (though they'd both deny having favorites). lanny LOVES her uncle bran (and uncle rickon, whenever he returns from beyond the wall). she cried when she found out having a direwolf isn't a stark birthright but just some freak shit her dad and his siblings lucked into, but she has approximately ten billion animal familiars to make up for it, including an old hound dog, a field mouse, and a one-eyed crow lanny named brynden for no particular reason at all :3 she's friends with literally everyone in winterfell and may or may not hear the whispering of ancient peoples on the wind <3 she's normal!!!!

finally, we have jon. he's an oopsie baby, so he's significantly younger than the rest of his siblings. quen named him jon specifically to fuck with jon snow <3 she's so kind~ anyway, jon jr has a touch of shy kid purse dog neuroticism to start, but then he has gay sex for the first time and it fixes him immediately. he still tries to join the night's watch like his namesake, but jon snow hits him with the ol' "please don't" :-|, so jon jr's like okay i guess my only other option is grad school. so he does the citadel thang for a bit before deciding that actually his true calling is swashbuckling trust fund kid adventures across the narrow sea. while there, he has a superrrr toxic age gap situationship with a mercenary captain and also an incredibly awkward run in with his brother torrhen at a pentoshi orgy. they both pretend they don't see each other, leave, and never speak of it again

bonus(es):

rodrik pyke, asha's one and only bastard child. he carries asha and qarl's combined swag and bisexuality with godlike grace. he's also his cousin torr's only real friend, and indulges him with matching longship names (the "King Robb" for torr and "Queen Asha" for rod jr lmao). he has ten billion bfs/gfs and is literally the hottest dude on the iron islands. he also bears a passing resemblance to normal theon so torr used to imagine rod was actually his brother (torr and normal theon were born only a year apart and were super close as kids (albeit with the usual sibling antagonism) before torr was sent away. when they meet again as adults, they're strangers. it's an old scar for theon, but it's a wound that never heals for torr.)

ygraine greyjoy, thick vic's only child. she's named after her greyjoy granny, and has beautiful curly black hair :-) she inherited her father's "stout" frame and boat-based tism, so she spends most of her days watching ships being built and talking with the shipwright. ygraine is the apple of her aunt gysella's eye, even though her mother doesn't really "get" her. she habitually sleeps on the shore down by lordsport and solicits stories from drowned priests. ygraine also dreams of a man with one eye and a thick blue drink that tastes of rotting meat. which could mean nothing

#ask #anon #post-STRS canon

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doppaminedogg · 1 year ago

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GRAGON LORE OH MY GOS

Uhh no warnings this time cuz hea just a hopeless romantic

Character description = Gragon, a green centaur, he has long horns and piercing yellow eyes. He often wears a black body suit that only halfway covers the lower more animal half of his body. Gragon is covered in green spotty fur. He's usually stoic and professional. The only people to see a softer side of him are his friends and Bee, the love of his life even if he doesn't return the same feelings. He also wears a brown satchel that Bee gave him

Bee = (NOT MY CHARACTER ) Bee is a tan man with fluffy brown hair and a blue streak of hair, he wears a nice blue sweater and some baggy jeans, three tentacles writhe around behind him. Bee is a demihuman, half creature, half human.

Gragon trudged along the side of the mountain, looking down at the giant crevass that he and his best friend turned into a nation. It wasn't big. Some wouldn't even call it a nation. Few people lived there, including Bee and Gragon. He narrowed his eyes, stopping momentarily to look for his friend. There he was, in all his glory, sitting on the steps to their house. Gragon felt a grin tug at his stoic expression. He turned tail and hurried down the side of the mountain, not even caring for the huge staircase made to enter Cliffburgg. His claws scraped against the rocks, making an unpleasant sound. Bee snapped his head up, probably thinking it was a monster. Gragon grinned, his ears flicking up happily. As Gragon stopped on a small cleft not far from the bottom on the ravine. His lower half bunched up his muscles and leaped down to the ground. He was eager to get over to Bee. Bee stood up, ready to greet his friend. Gragon felt a coo bubble up in his throat. "Did you find your other dog?" Bee asked when Gragon was close enough to hear. "Yup, he's with the rest of them." Gragon said. Gragon reached his hands down to envelope Bee in an affectionate hug, his eye glossy with love. Bee turned around and went up the stairs a bit. "Cassidy wants to be here to raise to flag, I mean, he wants to see it being raised." Bee said, grabbing onto the rail of the staircase. Gragons tail flicked with irritation, his whiskers twitching in anger. 'Cassidy. Cassidy.' Gragon thought. "Alright," he said, lowering his arms. "Make sure everyone's here around," Gragon trailed off, looking around for a clock or anything to tell the time. He stopped somebody who was walking past him, gesturing for the time. "Seven o'clock." Gragon said after thanking the person. Gragon looked up to Bee, who was standing in the doorway of their house. "Will do, boss." Bee said with a playful wink before he closed the door. Gragon stood there for a moment, his stomach turning and heart fluttering with love. 'Cassidy.' That stupid name ran through his head again.

Gragon had this secret, you see, a few months ago this...egg.. grew from the ground, he doesn't know how it got there, or really when, he just happened upon it. It spoke to him, though. It sounds crazy, but it was like it knew him, what he wanted. What he desired. Gragon looked upon the giant red beauty. 'Cassidy.' The egg seemed to speak. Gragon sat down with his back against the egg. He wrapped his hands around his snout and pinned his ears back. He couldn't stand the thought of some other creature with their hands on Bee, touching him, kissing him.. Loving him. Everything he wanted to do with, for, and to Bee. He just wanted Bee to actually see him. His heart sounded in his chest as he thought about Cassidy. With his stupid blue hands groping Bee in any way he wanted, having his way with the frail human. Bee was so much better than him and deserved better. Gragon was better. He knows he was better, he though highly of himself and thought that Bee should be with him, not some rainbow autistic fucking mutt tha couldn't even read. Gragon was seething, his fur spiking.

"Cassidy. Cassidy." He thought. "Ca...ssidy.." The egg spoke. Gragon snapped his head to look up at the egg. The familiar red tendrils snaked out from under the egg. Gragon stood up, reaching inside of his satchel. "Yes, Cassidy. A dumb.." Gragon trailed off. He felt his finger wrap around the bag that was wrapped around something. He pulled it out, his eyebrows furrowing sadly. "Gift..." the egg grumbled, the red vine reaching out. Gragon took a breath and unwrapped his gift to the egg. A puppy's lifeless expression was revealed. He gulped and let the blood-soaked bag fall to the ground.

He kneeled and held out the head, his eyes unable to leave the gruesome scene. The vine wrapped around the puppy's head, squeezing it until its eyes almost popped out and slithered back behind the egg. Gragon looked down, his hands were red and slightly sticky. "Good... g..ood." The egg groaned. Gragons chest felt heavy, and he slumped a bit, sorrow flooding his body. He had so many dogs, and Bee didn't know why. He never told anybody why. At least not the truth. He always said it was for protection or just because. They were sacrifices.

Seven o'clock. He stood at the balcony where the flagpole was raised. He was going to raise the flag in front of his people. A few others from different nations nearby joined. He saw manbania and skullfound citizens mostly. Howls and caterwauls echoed below. He scanned the crowd for Bee. Of course, he was standing next to Cassidy, who had his hands greedily wrapped around him. Gragon growled and peeled his eyes away, stepping forward so they could really see him. He raised his arms, and the crowd yowled excitedly. "TODAY, WE BECOME A NATION WE ARE.." He grabbed the rope to spring the flag up. "CLIFFBURGG!!" He shouted, and the flag sprung, showing off its beauty. He listened joyfully to the joyous and overjoyed screeches of his people and others. 'Cassidy cassidy.' He thought again. He couldn't help it. He hated the thought of him holding Bee like he was his. He hated thinking about somebody else seeing Bee naked, or in any other clothing that would make him look nice..sexy, or whatever. Gragon clenched his teeth, suppressing a growl.

Midnight. Gragon laid awake, staring at Bee. They had separate beds, but that didn't stop Gragon from taking in his elegance. He loved the way light bounced off of Bee's skin, the way the wind blew his hair just perfectly. Nobody was going to have him, and Gragon was going to make sure of that.

Woo yyaya, uhh, once again, Bee is not my character. He's actually my cousins so my description of him is either what I remember or interpret love you cuzz

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ezekielurquhart · 2 years ago

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@hcdonism location: the FUNCTION notes: knifekitty (affectionate) , Alexa play Lover (First Dance Remix)

All confidence and ego, cocky would have been an easy way to describe Ezekiel. Him and Remi were different in that regard, their origins weren’t all that different but where Ezekiel had ended up with every opportunity, Remi had none. He’d made his own, it was one of the many things that Ezekiel had always found inspiring about the other: no matter how things felt, knowing that Remi had probably been through worse was a source of comforting hope. Ezekiel had died and come back as someone else, a vampire that wasn’t afraid of his own strength, sharp and trained, the front that he’d put on as a witch fell away for something more authentic and genuine.

The couture was gone now though and in its place was a simple but well tailored suit, black on black, a white tie to break it up as Ezekiel watched Remi through a crowded ballroom. There was no bass accompaniment this time, no anticipatory build of EDM music or flashy dance moves. Just a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off of the only person in the room that ever seemed to matter. An orchestra swelled before a piano accompaniment led by Hakan followed, Rhiannon and Sumeyye stood beside the ivory keys to harmonise and sing backup. Ezekiel began and the room quieted, people still spoke but it sounded like conversation and more like murmurs in the background as the crowd parted systematically. The lights dimmed before a pair of spotlights shone on Ezekiel and Remi.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you for 20 seconds or 20 years?”

Ezekiel approached the other across the dance floor, confidence built in his step despite the nerves that sparked under his skin. Remi had never made him nervous… At least, not for some time. It had been a year together, and longer spent pining. Years of friendship and yearning bloomed in a crescendo of passion: lies, deception, and mistakes. Neither of them were perfect but Ezekiel still felt that they were perfect for each other, so he stopped in front of Remi and offered him his hand to ask him to dance. Neva had forced ballroom on him when he was a teenager, but given the musical air Ezekiel wouldn’t have needed it.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Forever and ever, ah Take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover.”

Remi was barely an inch taller than Ezekiel, the sire brought his hand to his progeny’s waist, their hands folded together while soft, brown locks tilted against Ezekiel’s broad shoulders. He loved him. Ezekiel had been in love with him for years. It felt stupid to jinx things, but the truth was that he was happy: the happiest he had ever been and it had been that way for months now. Since he had turned Remi and even before. This progeny just completed that.

"We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.”

Because he couldn’t help himself, Ezekiel’s hand ghosted to the small of Remi’s back as he pulled the other against his chest. Long lashes closed blue eyes as they danced around a seemingly vacant ballroom, their spotlights joined in their slow dance as the vampire sung his quiet gratitudes in the other’s ear. A whisper on his breath though the chorus and lyrics seemed to resound around them with the orchestral accompaniment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover.”

The music quieted and then faded out, though the lights returned, it still felt like they were the only two in the room. Ezekiel’s lips pressed against Remi’s, soft and quick: a promise of lifetimes to follow. With uncharacteristic sheepishness, Ezekiel took a step back before he cleared his throat and got down on one knee. “I don't think any amount of time together could ever be enough,” the sire’s hand produced a small, velvet box from his pocket before he opened it to reveal a ring he'd been holding onto for weeks. “But I want to start with forever: marry me?”

#remi #remistarter #remi.midsommar #senatus.event #senatus.midsommar

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elinoracia · 2 years ago

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🕷🕸 MY SPIDERSONA // Tarentule 🕸🕷

→ Let me introduce you to my Spidersona: Tarentule!

Ref sheet + infos :

● Spider-name: Tarantula (in english) // Tarentule (in french) // Tarantel (in german) ● Universe: Earth-9 // Switzerland ● Full name: Paloma Pey ● Age: Between 20 and 25 ● Love interest(s): Garson Stein or Mateo-James Wagner (love triangle) // Miguel O'hara (after being recruited) ● Job outside of superhero activities: Receptionnist

If you want to know more about her ↓

Personality, appearance and more :

● Friends: She is usually very shy and doesn't have many friends. But her best friend is Neon-Spider (oc/spidersona who belongs to luma_oku on instagram). She met her at the Spider Society (Earth-928B) after being recruited by Miguel O'hara. She also became friends with Pavitr Prabhakar and Miles Morales. ● Canon events: Being bitten by a radioactive tarentula, The death of her first best friend (Diana Dixon), the loss of her mother and the death of her second love interest (Garson Stein) because she couldn't save him. ● Personality: She used to be very bubbly and social but the death of her best friend (Diana Dixon) changed this aspect of her character. She is now quite scared to form meaningful bonds with people and is very shy and anxious around anyone who tries to talk to her. She still likes to crack some stupid jokes sometimes (only when she wears the mask). However, with her few close friends, she is very sweet and affectionate. ● Appearance: She has long brown hair with greenish hazel eyes. She is 5'6 (167 cm). She has a beauty mark under both of her eyes. ● Likes: The color pink, her family (father, sister and brother), cats, spicy food, shrimps and ice creams. ● Dislikes: Feeling anxious, loneliness, the color orange, celery, very loud noises and agressive people.

What inspired her design and spider-suit :

● Black cat: She was my main inspiration because I just love her vibe so much. ● Black/Venom spidersuit: I actually bought this suit (not me in the picture) and I wore it to multiple conventions so it just reminds me good memories. ● Fluffy fashion: I am obsessed with fluffy/fuzzy clothes. So cute. ● Black tarentula: She is just so massive and pretty. Love her :) ● Me: Yes! The last inspiration for my Spidersona is me! (✿◡‿◡) Anyone can wear the mask so I decided to strongly base this oc on me and how I actually look like!

Fun facts about Tarentule :

● She absolutely hates the color orange. She feels nauseous just by looking at a bright orange color. ● She paints on her free time! She mostly paints landscapes because everytime she tries to paint people it ends up not good enough. ● Since she was 18, she was really close to two boys. Garson Stein or Mateo-James Wagner. While Mateo and her were on and off, she fell in love with Garson. She had to choose between the two boys. In the end, she put an end to her on and off relationship with Mateo to be with Garson. He then died after an attack of the Green Goblin. ● When she was personally recruited by Miguel, she eventually grew closer to him. She was always trying her best on missions to impress him and make him notice her. She learnt to love again after everything she went through even if Miguel's feelings towards her are still unknown. ● Her favorite song is "Can't help falling in love with you" by Elvis Presley. ● She is almost like a big sister to Miles. She always tries to make him feel better and to give him advice. She sees herself in him and that's why she wants to support him as much as possible and not make him feel like the outcast.

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liminalpebble · 2 years ago

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Violet: Chapter 8, Communion

Masterlist link

Chapter 8: Communion

Will slept a mercifully sound and dreamless sleep during his nap. He was awakened by Mrs. Ambrose's gentle tap on his door.

He thanked her and stretched as the golden hue of an autumn evening spilled through his window. The pastor washed up and dressed for dinner; combing his wavy hair as well as he could into submission and carefully lined up the fussy buttons and bow tie of his suit. After a time, he managed them well enough. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he felt unsatisfied, woefully under-dressed and scruffy, but tidy enough.

As he exited his room he could hear the joyful arrival of the earliest guests and a hubbub of friendly greeting; the clinking of hors d'oeurve plates and champagne flutes. Gazing across the hallway, his eyes grew wide when Violetta emerged as he had never seen her before. She wore a beautiful gown of wine red satin that spiraled and draped over her voluptuous curves to the most perfect effect. Her thick black hair, usually pulled up messily and hastily, was smoothed and pinned elegantly away from her face to reveal the soft neck he craved the taste of so desperately. Her sarcastic charms were set aside in favor of a set of fine gold earrings and a matching necklace that shimmered richly, framing her features and accentuating her olive skin. As she turned and glided down the hall she stopped in her tracks, seeing him. Both of them felt as if their hearts had stopped in this little world of liminal space; a quiet shadowy corridor where only the faint ghost of the merriment below them could reach their ears.

“You...you look absolutely stunning, Violetta,” he said breathlessly and she looked down with an embarrassed blush in the apples of her cheeks.

She waved her hand saying, “Thank you. It's nothing,” just as she did when offering him tea, and the memory of this habit twisted his affectionate heart. She raised her eyes to scan up his body, finally resting at his bright eyes. “You look very nice as well, but your tie is...well...a mess. May I?”

He gave a breathy chuckle of embarrassment and smiled, mumbling, “yes, of course,” as the blood rushed to turn his ears a bright pink. He couldn't take his eyes off of her lovely face as her deft hands worked his bow tie into its proper state, then smoothed over it, inspecting her work, trying not to notice that beneath her palms she could feel his firm chest rising and falling with breath.

“There we go,” she said briskly, turning to leave, but Will grabbed her hand, holding it against his heart, with his own.

“Violetta, please. We need to talk.”

She looked at him, brown eyes suddenly black and lethal. “Reverend, you made it abundantly clear that you didn't want to discuss it. Now let me go,” she said in a hissing whisper.

He curled his hand more firmly around hers. “No, Violetta. It wasn't...it's just that...”

She stared him squarely in the eyes, challenging him. “That you are a coward, William Ransome?”

He gave a heavy, pensive, frustrated exhale. “I am, and have been, but please. I just want you to understand...”

“I waited for you so patiently, to give me even a single word. Like a stupid dog awaiting a command,” she said, quietly but articulately, tears welling in the black pools of her eyes. “At least I had the dignity to refuse to chase after you for a conversation. You could have just said that I mean nothing to you right away and saved us both a great deal of heartache now. Ah, but I suppose you weren't expecting to be faced with me again, like this. Why bother, right? When you could just leave me in limbo and it's easier that w...”

“Please!” Will said, a bit louder than he intended, and then remembered to lower his voice again. “I'm begging you, Violetta. Tomorrow is Sunday, the servants will have the day off, the Ambroses will be on their way to Spain. While the house will be empty please let me come and just talk with you.”

She scoffed, “Don't you have a church pew to occupy somewhere? A pulpit to preach to sinners like me from?”.

He gave her the first glare of angry hurt he had ever aimed at her, and she was startled by how icy his eyes could be, how deeply she had wounded his delicate pride with just a few words. He settled himself again, and it passed easily like a storm cloud that had been blocking the sun. “I have to be at church, yes, in the morning. I can come by after. May I?”

“As you wish,” she said bluntly, trying to seem impassive as she looked in vain about herself for a handkerchief to no avail.

Will tapped her shoulder, and as she raised her eyes to him, she saw him holding one out to her with a kind, crooked grin. As she took it, dabbing at her eyes, he took the chance to try wrapping his arms around her. Though he was afraid she might simply shove him away, he couldn't stand to see her cry without kissing the top of her head and gathering her in. She let him, closing her eyes, feeling the peace of it. It felt wonderful to let him, but she forced herself to break the spell and in a moment she was swishing down the stairs in a cloud of red satin.

---

The group was a small but influential one, close friends of the powerful but benevolent Ambroses. The esteemed surgeon, Dr. Luke Garrett attended and decided to approach the reverend as a strange attempt to bury the hatchet between them. It was as close as either of them would ever get to an apology from the other unusual man. They could both be proud, obsessive, prickly and unpleasant if you got the wrong side of them, deeply loyal if you caught the right one. Will thought the two of them standing together like this a bit darkly funny, as if it were a sad little club of bookish men previously rejected by Cora Seabourne. As they talked, putting the past behind them, the reverend even considered that he might be growing to like the blunt, brilliant, impish doctor. There was something about his lack of pretense that Will saw as a relief after coming up against the walls of society and propriety which were currently obstructing him. Will Ransome though he was warming up to Luke Garrett, until he began to talk about Violetta Vespero.

“So, Ransome, have you been acquainted with the little Vespero princess yet? The Ambroses seem to adore her. What do you think?” Luke asked, turning his beady eyes to where Violetta was standing, listening politely and silently to the others. She went through all the right motions of posture and manners but just, somehow, didn't fit. Will could see it in her sad eyes; she was miles away in her mind.

“She happens to be my student, actually, she's quite bright. Wise beyond her years.”

“Yes, that's all very well, but what about her. She's rich, you know.”

“So I've gathered.”

“It would be nice to marry into a family like that. The resources for my work and research would be phenomenal! It's a shame she's not very pretty.”

“Not pretty?”

“Well, not terrible to look at. It's just that you would expect women from families like that to be a bit more...I don't know...stunning, incredible, celestial. She's a bit chubby and swarthy for my taste...not to mention a bit long in the tooth for marrying. Rumor is that she has...hmm...how shall I put this delicately...no proclivity towards men, which I suppose means that's one for the convent then.”

Will glared down at the man with distaste, wanting very much to point out that Garrett himself was chubby and swarthy, much older than her, and a good deal less attractive in many ways than his Violetta.

His Violetta...he thought with a pang of indignation.

“Garrett, what manners! Women are human beings, you know, not wares at a meat market. Good lord, man.”

Garrett shrugged. “We're all dead meat in the end, vicar” he said swigging the last of his wine. “Anyway, I wonder if I could court her? Marrying rich might be worth the rest of how odd she is. At least we know she's a good cook.”

Good God! No wonder she's so cynical. Will thought, surround by men who think like this her whole life...men who think of her as currency. Men who ignore her unless they want something from her.

And now she thinks that's the kind of man I am as well. The epiphany hit him like a hammer striking an anvil; it vibrated through him clearly, painfully.

Luke persisted. “I know you're a man of the cloth, Will, but even you must notice women sometimes,” and then said, under his breath, “at least, you used to.” poking at Will's friendship, infatuation with, and ultimate rejection by Cora.

“That's enough!” Will growled out, louder than he intended, drawing several eyes to himself from around the room as the chatter and chime of the party stilled. Darting his eyes around frantically, he said, “My apologies. Excuse me,” and retreated to a vacant parlor. Violetta waited until the party began its chatter again then followed him to where he stood, closing his eyes and trying to breathe, forehead resting against the wall.

“Will?” she said gently, and he turned to face her, surprised. “What happened?”

He tried to gather his words but found he could only stay silent. She continued, “Listen, I know it's a bit embarrassing, but it's not the end of the world. Garrett has grated on everyone's nerves at one time or another. It's not the first time someone has scolded him publicly. I think everyone in that room has done the same, myself included.”

Will shook his head and maintained his distance. “I thought I was ready to...to join the land of the living, as Charles said, but I suppose I'm still not suitable for polite company.”

She gave a wry, knowing little grin. It was a sentiment she could relate to.

He continued with a huff. “Violetta, he was talking about you like....like you were currency, or a piece of meat. I couldn't stand it.”

“I appreciate your concern,, but it's nothing I haven't heard or known of before. That's how they all talk about me. Let me guess...'she's not very pretty, but she's rich'...that sort of thing? It barely affects me anymore.”

He nodded bashfully. “God, my gender is horrible. I'm so sorry, Violetta.”

She shook her head. “Don't be, Padre. It's not your fault, but I appreciate your sympathy.”

He met her eyes and said in a whisper. “Please, don't call me that.”

“What? Padre? I apologize. I keep forgetting...it's just force of habit with...”

He growled in a whisper, “You...you have no idea what it does to me.”

She smiled a little mischievously at that, but decided in his current state she would have mercy and resist teasing him about it. He hesitated but strode slightly closer.

“Why are you being so kind to me? You'd have every right to scream at me...to eat me alive after what I've put you through.”

She thought for a moment and Will watched her bow her lovely head, stroke her wine glass, “Because I know what it is to hurt the way you are hurting. Because I think I understand. We are, all of us, fragile things, flawed things, fearful things. We could all use a little grace sometimes...” She twitched the corner of her mouth in the tiniest hint of a smile, “...divine or otherwise.”

He gave her a look of astonishment and pained tenderness. “Thank you.”

“Well, Reverend, please come join us. Dinner's about to be served. I've made some delicious lamb, if I do say so myself.”

Will gave a breathy chuckle and looked down, smiling. “You always do love your symbolism, don't you Miss Vespero?'” he asked, then followed her to the dining room.

“Do this in remembrance of me,” she recited with a sardonic shrug, and then took a hearty gulp of her wine.

Taglist: @coldnique @muddyorbs @goblingirlsarah @acidcasualties @jennyggggrrr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @icytrickster17 @pati52 @marcotheflychair @ladyofthestayingpower @gigglingtigger-deactivated20230 @alexakeyloveloki @letsg00000honey @bitchyexpertprincess @lokisgoodgirl @sweetsigyn @lovelysizzlingbluebird @talklokitome @dragonmurray @peaches1958

#lusty vicarettes #lusty vicar #essex serpent #the essex serpent #will ransome fanfic #the essex serpent fanfic

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years ago

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Sleep Paralysis (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: You hated sharing a room with another person. Especially when it came to sleeping. Which usually resulted into you staying awake for the night if you were teamed up with someone. Sometimes you could not escape exhaustion, though.

Words: 2,381

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, insomnia, experiencing sleep paralysis, anxiety, TFATWS spoilers (I don’t think there are any but just to be sure I guess), Zemo awakens the poet in me idk, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The people you found yourself teamed up with gave you safety. Sam, Bucky & even Zemo. With the three of them on your side, you had nothing to fear. Missions with these guys were easy. If the two grown ass men children were not occupied with killing the other grown ass man child. Names were not needed here, that was explanation enough. You were surprised yourself when you started enjoying Zemo’s company. He was a criminal. He was supposed to be the bad guy. So why could you not view him as such? Was it the way he moved his body? Was it his hair which fell in place just perfectly imperfect? Was it his coat that accentuated the weight of the world he carried on his shoulders alone? Was it his smile that was just the tiniest bit bigger whenever he glanced at you? Was it that stupid head tilt thing that was everything but stupid to you? What the hell was it? And why the hell was resisting your urges so damn hard?

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could have sworn that his eyes fell on you, no matter how big the crowd. You could have sworn that his body searched out your presence wherever you went. There was this unspoken thing between you guys. As much as you wanted to address the tension building up, you were apprehensive what your best friends would say about it. You were doubtful how he would receive the news. Your ever growing friendship was at risk. The mere thought of having to live your life without him was inconceivable. How did it work before he came along? It was like your brain erased those memories altogether. Truthfully, he changed your life around without having an idea of the effect he had on you. Or he did know but enjoyed messing with your feelings. Though he did not strike you as that type of man.

Countless nights were spent with you having deep, meaningful conversations. Thanks to those times, you perceived his side of the story. His motives & what drove him to the actions that brought him behind bars in the end. By no means were you trying to justify his crimes. There would have been multiple different ways. Back then, the only purpose for him was revenge. Apologies that came too late were given. Zemo truly was sorry. And while words & emotions could be faked easily, it was impossible to hide the deeper meaning that his eyes held. The softness, the wariness, he could not simulate this. Those beautiful brown orbs were withholding years worth of tears. It was not your position to force him to display his weakness in front of you. Sometimes, simply knowing that another person was available if needed, that was enough.

The same feeling of secureness was provided by him. Your past was not necessarily pleasant either. Innumerable regrets labeled your existence. You were not a good example of a hero. Every day, you contemplated the what-if’s. Overthinking was part of your diurnal routine. All the pondering was needless. The switch only shifted after the beginnings of Zemo’s nocturnal reassurances. Without him, you would still be stuck in that gloomy pit your body had constructed on its own. You two were reliant on each other. Not physically but mentally. Unpretentiously, small touches followed. Brushing his thumbs over your smooth skin on the back of your hand. Squeezing your shoulders gingerly. Goosebumps erupted each time his body warmth was transferred to yours. Whether he wore his leather gloves or not, your body responded with endless fireworks that launched from deep inside.

The hotel you entered radiated wealth. Zemo negotiated the reservations. Which was obvious by the mere impression of the lofty ceilings that were embellished with immense sparkling chandeliers. Your eyes overstrained from the extravagance, switching from one highlight to the next. As a regular citizen, your income denied you such a lifestyle. Avengers did not earn a fortune, this trait came with the job description. Meaning that you would savor every little ticking of your stay. The marvelous high of contentment ceased when the receptionist informed you of an immutable adjustment concerning your room situation. The only two vacant premises were a king size in one & two singles in the other. Apparently, the decision was resolved without you having a say in it. Your questions were answered with a definite proclamation. You were the only soul unable to kill the Baron. Your attempts to conceal your embarrassment were unsuccessful. The smirk adorning Zemo’s features was unhelpful in your current position. Sam & Bucky abandoned you in the entrance, heading off to their room to rest after a tiring mission.

Zemo demanded your luggage to be brought up to your chambers. One of his hands rested on your lower back. This motion warmed your body. It was so simple yet filled with extensive care. It should have been wrong but you have never felt more protected in your entire life. One thing worried you. Sharing a room with the man who brought out your true happiness. It was no secret that you suffered from insomnia. Usually, it vanished after indefinite missions. The interminable flight in Zemo’s private jet added up to your exhaustion. Under no circumstances would you sleep in a room with the Baron. The trust existed, that was not the issue. What happened during your slumber could not be controlled. The tossing, turning, screaming. Nightmares invaded your dreams every time you closed your eyes. Therefore, you obviated sleep as long as possible. Multiple cups of coffee, the heavy does of caffeine every day, aided your wish to stay up. If you narrated a good enough excuse, he would not inquire. At least, that was what you hoped.

Stepping through the tall door into the spacious room, you stopped dead in your tracks. You needed a second to take everything in. Never before had you occupied such a luxurious chamber. It resembled a suite. Different shades of warm colors complemented each other. The vast windows enabled your view of the city beneath. Colorful lights brought the dead of the dim night to life. Facing the stars aligning the somber night sky, Zemo arranged himself next to you. Minutes of silence enveloped you, filling the room to the brink. The man next to you fractured the quietness with whispers. He pointed out various constellations. Observantly, you absorbed his words. He was cultured but never bragged about it. His sentiment of deliberate timing was unique. One of his characteristics was fathoming when to quit talking. Or when it was suitable to speak. Zemo constantly knew how to ease the tension with his thoughtful comments.

“You take the bed. I am content with resting on the couch.” he proposed. As much as you appreciated his deliberation, you pronounced the contrary.

“No, Helmut. I won’t sleep anyway, you can have the bed.” your gentle smile underlined the tiredness emanating from your eyes. He tilted his head to one side, observing your body language.

“You have not rested after our mission yet. Not even during the flight where Sam, James & I slept.” he annotated, worry audible in his voice. Your shoulders lifted in a short shrug. Alleging that you were fine. Spending hours with you concluded to him comprehending your lies. Your features were different whenever you attempted feigning him. Approaching your figure in the barely illuminated room, he halted a few steps away from you. Movements of his hands caught your attention. The gloves were peeled off. Lifting one of his arms, you shivered when his skin touched your cheek affectionately. His fingers caressed your face so lovingly, your eyes closed instinctively. “You are exhausted, darling.” his words were soft, soothing your ears by the fragility of them. The space between you two was narrow. You breathed the same air. His body heat passed onto you. Your heart sped up, almost as if it could break out any second. Nobody had ever made you feel that way. Nodding obediently, Zemo dragged you closer to the soft mattress covered with silk sheets. It was a desired invitation. It did not last long before you gave in. The smooth material welcomed you. Realizing Zemo’s retreating steps, your hand reached for his wrist, freezing his tries. He glanced over his shoulder bewildered.

“Stay.” it was music to his ears, hearing your quiet proposition. Holding himself back, he shook his head briefly. A signal that he did not want to disturb you. “Please.” his face softened at your plea. How could he resist your sweet voice? How could he resist you when it was obvious that you wished for him to stay with you?

“Okay.” pulling back the blankets, he lied right behind you. Your back was facing him. The shock was only brief when your hand searched for his arm. Draping it over your waist, you sighed contently when he embraced you tighter. It was not just what you needed. This, it was required by him as well.

Peaceful hours of cuddling went by without disruption. The calm was interrupted by your eyes snapping open in fear. Your back was against the mattress. Staring at the tall ceiling, your breath quickened when you could not move. Could not talk. Could not scream. There was not a single thing that could be done but you awaited the bad that would arrive soon. It was not the first time you experienced such a situation. The pressure in your chest grew steadily, obstructing your breathing. Your muscles ached, your head pounded. Someone would murder you. If you did not rise soon, death would come knocking on your door. Your attempts to push away the sheets & your labored breath stirred the man next to you awake. His confusion ended when he noticed your struggles. Propping his head onto one of his arms, he scooted closer to your body. Zemo knew what you were going through at the moment. While he had never suffered from such a period himself, he had read about it. Your eyes widened when his locked onto yours. The fear was visible even without a light illuminating the room. His free hand moved to your cheek. In the process, he whispered sweet nothings to you in hopes that they would reach you. Irregular breaths were still very much present. Though you had him with you, your anxiety was acting up still. Your mind was determined that you would die in a few minutes.

“Hey, hey, hey. Darling, look at me.” your eyes slowly shifted from the ceiling to his dark, almost black ones. They were a beautiful shade of brown but it was too sinister to detect the different hues. “There you go.” his voice was steady, controlled. “What you are experiencing is called sleep paralysis. It means that you are awake but your body is asleep still. It will be over soon, I promise. This might feel life threatening to you but I’m here, okay? I am here with you & I will not let anything happen to you.” his eyebrows raised expectantly. The most you could give him was a useless attempt of a nod. His fingers stroked over your skin, bringing you comfort. You were not on your own. Zemo held you close to his body. Still unable to move, the one thing you could feel was his body heat. Minutes without change went by. Affirmations were whispered into the quiet of the ample room. Your leg shuffled the blankets. A small smile crept onto your face. Finally, you had control again. Your muscles were no longer frozen in place. Overwhelmed by the sudden liberty, you embraced Zemo into a tight hug. Reciprocating immediately, he held your head in place in the crook of his neck. His other arm raked around your waist, keeping you as close as possible. He assured you that you were alright. That nobody & nothing could hurt you. Not when he was around. The silent tears rolling down your cheeks were inevitable. They stained his shirt but he could not care less. All that mattered was you overcoming the feeling of uncontrollability. Maybe it was his explanation. Or his proximity. Or his sweet words calming you down. In the end, the cause was insignificant. Zemo helped you through this & there were no words to express your gratitude to him.

Pulling away slightly, he rested his forehead against yours. You mimicked his deep breaths, disposing of the last bits of worry. When you were in his presence, it was gratuitous to be fearful. Demons had no chance. Not when it came to Zemo. The next reaction came naturally. This time, you did not fight the urge to press your lips onto his. You took his breath away by the unexpected action. There were no complaints from his side. Both hands rested on your face, bringing you closer if it was even feasible. In your imagination, you recalled kissing Zemo to be heated. This right now was the exact opposite. No words could depict what emotions were rushing through your entire body. Descriptions were useless if you could demonstrate it with a simple kiss. After it ended, silence sheathed you two once again. It was everything but unpleasant. He kept holding onto you. Zemo would never judge you because of nightmares or similar occurrences. Your head rested on his chest, above his heart. The beat calming your nerves even further. Explaining that you had always suffered from the monsters of the night, he did not interrupt. You needed to confide & he was more than happy to be available. Another soft kiss was pressed on top of your head. A content sigh left your lips. Zemo assured you that he would stay, no matter what. He was in this for good. Whatever this was. Time would clarify the relationship between you two. All you knew was that it felt right. Having him close to you. Having him as your protector. Having him to brighten up your days. Simply having him. That was adequate. That was your unspoken wish. You expected a lot but you did not expect the fulfillment of a previous unknown dream. You were home.

Published (04/21/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @eristudytime, @hiraethmaximoff, @incansas, @fionanovasleftnut, @mundaytuesday, @ashamed23, @pedropascallovebot, @kpoptrash2000, @lulu-yuming, @bibliophilewednesday, @arctic--ash, @mischiefmanaged71, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @tatooineisdry, @obsidian-queen, @h0ly-fire, @dxnxdjarxn (thanks for your support <3)

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bitbrumal · 2 years ago

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QUESTION ↤ @galactia :: 👫 + our ship & i’ll give you 4 facts ↩

‘👫 (Zhong and Kaeya? ;D)’

i hate u ( affectionate ) for sending me this bc istg i TRIED to just write 4 snappy points but kaeya’s everything in response to zhongli is so juicy i kept writing whole posts on his psyche. i cut that shit & it’s still long as balls. this could have been about goddamn pancakes but i wanted to dig deeper & then it went too deep & now-

kaeya goes out of his way to have possessions, tokens, or even parts of zhongli to physically entwine with him especially in his absence. the man’s generous in his affections, but the distance between them is generous too. whether it be braiding brown & gold into his own blue, voluntarily gifted- donning the fine robe zhongli had gifted him around christmas- piercing his ear a second & third time to wear cor lapis as close to inside him as is medically reasonable. yes he eyes zhongli’s personal possessions when he’s over. yes he leaves his own most intimate ones when he leaves.

II.

although kaeya’s never bothered to learn to love anything, he’s so enamoured that he will try his best to enjoy bamboo shoot soup. it’s just... he hates bamboo.

III.

frequently breaks his brain over what to gift zhongli, & is RomanticTM enough to feel like,,, maybe to a man who sees how feral & rotten hollow he is about the concept of ‘love’... perhaps his heart is finally a fitting gift? but then that seems stupid, so kaeya silently makes use of his inheritance & designs something achingly lovely. its weight & texture will be pleasant to the touch; the picture it makes a delight for the eyes. kaeya’s incredibly embarrassed about the wall of but i want my heart to be the gift he wants that continually gets in the way of any of these feats. just seems a bit rude to consider that burnt out husk of a heart an appropriate return gift.

IV.

zhongli’s endless dignity is the feathery lure to kaeya’s naughty, shameless cat behaviour. he gives exactly zero fucks about the man / god’s reputation--( since he’s fully convinced he can handle whatever's thrown at him anyway )--& will proceed to drag his own through the mud by smacking the man’s ass when he’s in the middle of a conversation, climbing him like a tree as they stroll through the market, snuggling up to him like a well-fed alley cat, & generally be affectionate in all the silly physical ways better suited to privacy. naturally, he has no intentions of actually crossing any real boundaries - just the ✨annoying✨ ones~~.

[ classified redacted essay under the cut. ]

zhongli brings him a sense of belonging that outstrips the cold, horrible confidence that he’ll always be allowed back with his first ‘family’. a kindness that is fair, just, & lacks the blind willingness to sell himself cheap that diluc had had as a boy ( & possibly still has ). he brings an authority to the table that is more competent & dignified than varkas’, or all the current captains manning the ship in his wake combined. warmer than diluc by being less intense- & cold in warmth’s excess -than heat. more tempered-- hasn’t drawn a blade on him, fine, we’ll say it. he comes with a stability that kaeya has never experienced - a sort of security that no doubt comes in part from his faux endlessness. but it’s the way he goes about being a person that grants someone in his company all these boons. it’s a shockingly ravenous thing. hadn’t known it could be this luxurious- just being around someone. is it less shallow for being more personal? or can he not say he loves him deeply, hah.

kaeya, in comparison, is only beneficial to be around when under duress. his qualities are mainly feigned so as to be wanted around long enough to do some benefiting himself. he tries very hard not to do that around zhongli unless he’s been too much of a bore. depression is a buzz kill.

II.

there is a special way zhongli clicks into his trauma & unlocks it, lets it flow freely 'away’. because much of kaeya’s terror toward him is direct. it’s morax he’s afraid of; one of celestia’s approved archons, one of those who fought in the war ( even if kaeya has apparently, deliciously / gratefully, misunderstood how )... all his life kaeya has been terrified because he now lives within the ‘eye of the seven’ or whatever. it could not be confronted with absent barbatos... even if kaeya after a few years deliberately went to a statue of him to see if he would, perhaps, be punished for existing some more. but zhongli not only allowed him to face & process his terror, he... despite kaeya having definitely not earned himself any points with a gentle, self-deprecating tone - by being forgiving, by blaming himself, by making it easy for rex lapis... being charming, being nice, being manipulative-

he was allowed to hate & grieve & claw.

zhongli could have done actually anything. & continues to be able to. but does not. & not only is that true, but he makes a massive fucking point out of it. kaeya never asked to be healed. he wanted to be dealt with, to be done with it all. if he had to fear something he had no hope at all to control- kill me or yield to me. the dragon does neither,.. fairly, kindly, honestly. wouldn’t stand for false accusations but stood for anything else-

the best man he’s ever met is a god & he’s furious about it. or perhaps, perhaps he’s just- perhaps this is another kind of passion. ah, yes -- all that hatred ( & boy is there hatred ) transmuted into love. recontextualised by the mind yet, stemming from the same generous part of the brain.

it is the strongest emotion kaeya can give, & it is breathtaking to be proud to gift it to him.

my condemner, love me whole.

III.

kaeya is a little worried he’s just met a god so kind he’s... in a relationship founded on pity. but zhongli continues to be kind & open, & while it is impossible not to doubt - it is shockingly hard to have no reason to believe in something far too good to be true.

it’s just that kaeya trusts in vulnerability & cruelty, & the balance makes some sense. he could be strung along for a greater payoff later -- but kaeya has met one other impossibly kind man. even if they no longer speak. diluc made it possible at all for him to believe something like this, but that’s not anywhere near enough. zhongli-

#galactia #kaeya ✦ galactia #hc ✦ kaeya

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

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Fake Dating drabble No. 6

I'm back with 1.6k of Marcus Pike (x F!Reader) who offered to be your date to your class reunion while you were drunkenly moaning about it after work.

Fake Dating Masterlist

Warnings: alcohol (i think that's it)

This was a bad idea. You knew it from the time you had asked him. Which was 80% the fault of the beers you had that night. The combination of alcohol and a missed lunch hadn’t been the best idea.

“My ex-husband is gonna be there. And I don’t want to be the divorced miserable wife I certainly not am. Cause I’m much more happy without him,” you rambled on. You looked at your boss sitting next to you. You had been out to celebrate. After months you finally had made an arrest on the case you had been working on ever since your boss got here almost a year ago. Your boss. Marcus Pike. Perfect, pretty, Marcus Pike who was looking at you with his soft and warm brown eyes with his teasing smile. His lips always looked so damn soft… Wait, was he talking?

“What?” you asked. He chuckled.

“If you don’t want to go alone I do look good in a suit,” he shrugged, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and you had to blink a couple of times until his words made sense in your drunken brain.

“Are you offering to be my date to my class reunion, Agent Pike?” you asked.

“I guess I am,” and then he winked at you with his stupid gorgeous eyes.

Yeah. Stupid idea. Not because he was your boss, but because you had the biggest crush on him. You could control it at work, you were a professional after all, but spending time with him outside of work seemed to be the challenge. Which wasn’t often, but often enough to make you beyond flustered just with the way he was looking at you.

Okay. You could do this. This is just like the time you went undercover with him on that event. This would be different though. Because you went to school with those people and well, because of your ex husband. You thought of canceling but he would probably make it seem like you were still the heartbroken little girl you had been back in school. And you should be over your school and ex-husband trauma but you were also petty as fuck. You lost way too much weight to not show it off. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror you smiled at yourself as you heard the doorbell.

It was just like being undercover. Right?

It was not just like being undercover. You noticed that as soon as you opened the door for Marcus who was dressed in black, cleanly shaven and looking at you with a soft smile that would have made you swoon if he wasn’t standing directly in front of you.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you boss,” you winked with a grin.

“Ready to hear our cover story?” he asked as he waited for you to lock your door. You turned around, taking his offered arm as he led you to his car.

“Shoot.”

“We fell in love while working together,” he started the car and you nodded.

“Impressive. Good cover story. So thoughtful,” you teased.

“I know right?” he grinned and you shook your head with a smile as he began to drive. Most of the car ride was spent in a comfortable silence, yet you felt yourself growing nervous the closer you got.

You almost jumped when you felt his hand on top of yours on your thigh. Looking at him you smiled softly at him, the nervousness you felt before replaced by a warmth spreading through you. Shit you really had it bad for him. You made a mental note to yourself to not drink any alcohol tonight. You tend to get very affectionate while drunk. And Marcus Pike had made it very clear that the last thing he was looking for was a relationship after everything that happened with his last relationship.

It was like time just stopped as you walked through the doors of your old school. Even the smell was the same. You shook your head to yourself as you walked next to Marcus.

“This is like a really bad throwback,” you groaned as you walked past your old classroom. He chuckled before you felt him take your hand in his.

“I hated school. Or more like the people,” you sighed looking at him.

“So you’re here to…”

“Show everyone I’m not the sad ugly girl they had bullied for years? Sad. I know,” you shrugged as you walked within towards the big doors leading to the big hall where music was already playing.

“And to show off your new boyfriend?” he teased and you smiled. Was he… flirting?

“It’s sad, I know,” you groaned and he stopped walking.

“I did the same thing 10 years ago with my wife,” he said and you looked at him with big eyes.

“Yeah. I was the typical nerd in school. Try being a teenager who’s into art. High school was hell.”

“Aww you were already into art in school? That’s so cute. I would have dated you,” you winked.

“Yeah? Good thing we found each other then, huh?” he winked back and this time you did feel your cheeks growing warm at the look he gave you. If he noticed he didn’t show it.

“Come on. Let’s get some disgusting punch.”

Against all odds you really had fun. Marcus posed as the perfect boyfriend and you didn’t have to play the heart eyes you were giving him the whole evening. If you had only this night to play out your little fantasy of dating him, you would take full advantage of it before you had to make yourself fall out of love with him. Because he was your boss and you loved your job.

“The man over there keeps looking at you,” Marcus whispered against your ear. You were dancing to some cheesy song you didn’t recognize. Turns out Marcus Pike could dance. You frowned before you followed his eyes, seeing your ex husband stand there with none other than Babara Miller, the girl who had made your time in school a living hell.

“That’s my ex husband,” you rolled your eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand on your back squeezing you lightly.

“Yeah,” you smiled up at him. For one moment you wished this would be real. That you could tell him that you loved him. That the look he gave you was genuine and not just an act. You breathed in deep. You didn’t want to be here anymore. This felt wrong. Fake. He seemed to pick up on that.

“Wanna get out of here? I’m starving,” he whispered.

“Please,” you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you were close to tears before you felt his hand squeeze yours as he walked you out.

20 Minutes later you were the two fanciest dressed people at the hot dog booth Marcus had taken you to.

“These are really delicious,” you hummed, trying to look not like a starving animal as you ate. Marcus chuckled.

“I know. I got lost in the neighborhood in the first week I got here but I found the best hot dogs in the city, so I count it as a win.”

“Totally,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coke he had bought for you.

“So you live around here?” you asked.

“Yeah just two streets this way,” he pointed to your right.

“I guess I should get a cab home so you don’t have to drive all the way back to my place,” you suggested, but he shook his head, reaching over to you.

“No. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you drive home alone at night?” he asked and you sighed.

“You mean fake boyfriend,” you said and he only looked at you, his stupid gorgeous eyes not leaving yours. You bit your lip, looking away from him to set down your coke at the booth. When you looked up he seemed to have gotten closer. You didn’t miss how his eyes seemed to linger on your lips before he looked into your eyes.

“Yeah. Fake boyfriend. But even as your fake boyfriend I’m not letting you just get a cab home. I’m driving.”

“Okay okay,” you playfully rolled your eyes.

“You want a milkshake boss?” you asked.

“Make it chocolate.”

“Thank you for doing this for me,” you said as he walked you to your door. You still had your milkshake, peanut butter, in your hand, your other hand searching for your keys.

“You’re very welcome. It was nice. We should do that again,” he said and you looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You mean more awkward class reunions?”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“No. This. Us together. Hanging out after work,” he stepped closer and you smiled a little.

“Hanging out? How old are you? 14?” you teased and he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“I really, really had fun tonight. With you. And I’d like to take you out. On a real date. Let’s say next Saturday?” he asked and finally, you gave in to the stupid grin that you had tried to suppress the whole evening.

“You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?” you asked and he frowned.

“No, why?”

“Cause then I couldn’t do this…” you whispered before you got on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @cherry-gemz / @yespolkadotkitty / @filthybookworm / @knittingqueen13 / @melchills-j / @justpedropascal / @raspberrymama / @parkjammys / @novicepearl / @disgruntledspacedad / @perropascal / @empress-palpat1ne / @hotspacepilots / @sleep-tight1 / @freeshavocadoooo / @princess76179 / @pumpkin-stars / @evyiione / @hollydaisy23 / @princesssterek / @palaiasaurus64 / @mouthymandalorian / @turkish276 / @maciiiofficial / @re-reads / @penwieldingdreamer / @trippedmetaldetector / @liviiii98 / @greeneyedblondie44 / @darnitdraco / @tobealostwanderer / @gracie7209 / @rosiefridayrogersunday

#fake dating drabbles #marcus pike #steph writes drabbles #pedro pascal #marcus pike x reader #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

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Joke of a Batman

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Request: @meowiemari Okie dokie!!! So Spencer x male reader where the reader is the driver for the robbers. They arrested him after finding him in a gas station getting snacks. While driving in his car with Morgan, Reid, and Hotch, the reader is in the passenger seat telling them the location because he was just there for the money. Hotch and Morgan went while Spencer stays to keep an eye on him. Reader’s playlist in his car plays old Justin Bieber songs and it’s gonna be me by NSYNC. Spencer sees his embarrassment and awkwardly sings a bit so he doesn’t feel shame. Later in absolute a few minuets the two started singing and as soon as Morgan comes back with Hotch, they both quickly turn off the playlist and exchange numbers. :)

Warnings: Swearing, implied SMUT (super brief)

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I loved writing this, and hope I you enjoy. This was my first time writing the reader as male-so please tell me if I can improve! Tried to keep reader description as vague as possible. Thank you to @mermaidxatxheart for encouraging me to get writing :)

“That’ll be $11.75, please.” The bored gas station attendant droned, staring at you expectantly. You began to pull out a few bills from your wallet, ready to get home and eat your pint of ice cream in peace, but before you could count out what you needed, a voice behind you cut in.

“He’s no longer going to be making a purchase today, actually,” Spinning around in alarm, you find yourself face to face with two imposing men, one with a deep frown and overall authoritative air with his crisp suit, the other a handsome but tall and physically intimidating specimen.

With a gulp, you stuff the cash in your wallet. Who were these guys?

“Y/F/N?”

You nod as heat creeps up your neck, burning your face. Fucking Peter Robbins, you always knew, was going to be the death of you. And now it looked like your latest foray into his questionable life was going to land you in jail. These had to be cops.

You knew you should have ignored his call. You’d been telling yourself for years not to help him, he was just going to get himself in trouble again and call again, and you got nothing out of it. He used you because he knew you liked him. The two of you had been friends for years, and it didn’t take him long to realize the ways he could manipulate you because of how you felt.

It took you a lot longer to catch on to what he was doing.

But fuck, you still came running when he called, didn’t you? Like you were some joke of a Batman and he was shining his light into the sky calling for you. If only.

“That’s, yeah, that’s me.” You replied, slowly shoving your wallet into your front pocket before holding your hands in front of you in surrender. Whatever happened, you decide at this moment that you never want to see Peter again. Because giving that man a ride in hopes he’d one day say he was interested was not worth this.

“Mr. (Y/L/N), we’re placing you under arrest,” The frowning man held out his badge, showing you he was one Agent Hotchner from the fucking FBI. You tuned him out, your ears suddenly ringing, alarm shooting through you. Getting arrested was one thing, but the FBI? What in the living hell had Peter gotten into? Got you into?

He called you for a ride. It was just supposed to be a ride.

You were surprised when they didn’t cuff you, but you weren’t stupid enough to question them. They led you outside, where the gas station was quiet, only their large black SUV and your Honda Civic parked out front. You kept your eyes down, a sting threatening the corners but you were not going to cry. You needed to take this one step at a time, and not overreact. You surely didn’t fuck up that badly, did you? They’d said ‘suspicion of aiding a crime’, only suspicion.

“Listen, kid,” The bald Agent whose name you learned was Morgan turned and faced you, his expression serious. You bristled slightly at him calling you ‘kid’, but based on the crows' feet around his eyes, maybe he was older than he let on. “We know that you were just the driver today, and that you’d probably have no clue what’s going on right now.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, “Peter Robbins has ensured I fuck up my life at least once a year for nearly a decade. This is just...a new level for me.” You shrug, trying not to think of what your family was going to say when they found out. Would you lose your job?

“We’ve been watching Peter and his associates for a while now,” Agent Hotchner replied, and your brows raised in surprise. “Yes, he’s escalated from petty crimes that upset the local sheriff to armed robbery. Unfortunately, one of his partners happens to enjoy killing. Which is why we were called in.” He stops speaking abruptly when another Agent, you assume from the gun on his belt, steps around the SUV and up to your group.

For a moment, you’re caught off guard. This Agent is stunningly handsome, much younger than the other two. His eyes, which met yours for only a moment before flitting away, were a soft honey brown that sucked you right in. He had a bit of a shadow along his jaw, his wavy brown hair unkempt in the best kind of way, as though he’d just rolled out of bed looking that perfect. And you could tell he didn’t even realize the power he had. Standing next to two burly, thick muscled Agents, you could understand why. But in your brief assessment of this new man, you could see the lean strength of him, the muscles of his lower arms, veins in his hands. He was tall, too, taller than either of the other men, which was saying something.

“What’s up, Reid?” Morgan asked, and the new arrival-Reid-held up his phone.

“Garcia can’t pull anything from the Honda, it’s, her words, an ancient species.” He spoke quickly, almost as though the words couldn’t find their way off of his tongue quickly enough. You tried not to fixate on his mouth, because damn it, his lips were perfect.

Absentmindedly, you crossed your arms across your chest, feeling tense and tired. When Reid’s eyes followed the movement, you felt frozen under his gaze, watching with your breath held as it dragged slowly up to your face. His expression was unreadable, yet you still felt your cheeks grow warmer.

“Listen, (Y/N), we know you don’t have any real part in Peter’s crimes. We intercepted his calls and texts, we know he asked you to pick him up today, last minute.” Agent Hotchner said, his eyes burning into yours.

You looked away from the other men, shame flooding through you. “Peter always calls, and I always answer. But I really don’t know anything about what he does, I didn't know he was even with anyone else today. He asked me to pick him up right out front of the pharmacy, that’s all.” You couldn��t help the edge to your voice, the wordless plea that they understand you had no clue what was going on. And if innocent people were dying, you would do anything you could to help them put a stop to it.

Reid tilted his head slightly as he watched you, “We’ve seen the messages, (Y/N), we know how he treats you, giving you a little, yet taking a lot,” The tears almost threaten now, so you glance away, looking at the ground as you nod, “And he doesn’t even tell you what he’s taking, the danger he’s putting you in. He’s going to go away for a long time, but you don’t have to.”

At this, your head snaps up and you look between the three men, expecting them to laugh and finally cuff you. But they all wear the same neutral expression, all watching you.

“Like I said, I don’t know much abou-“

Reid shook his head, politely interjecting, “We understand. But you know where you took him today, right?” At your nod, Reid stepped a little closer, peering down at you, “We need you to take us to him. And tell us any other addresses you can remember picking him up from or taking him to in the last year. Can you help us? You won’t be under arrest if you can give us what we need to stop Peter and the men he’s working with.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Of course, you would help, regardless of whether you were still under arrest; you had no loyalty whatsoever to Peter. You only ever showed up for him because you hoped, each time, that it would be the time he would go beyond flirting. That the feelings were mutual. But if he was committing crimes-fuck, robbing people, working with a murderer, then you were done with him.

“I can tell you addresses, and I can show where he is now, I just,” You paused, closing your eyes briefly to pull in a breath, steadying yourself, “Please, don’t hurt him, if you don’t need to, I mean.”

Reid’s eyes, which you found the moment you opened yours, visibly softened at your words. He seemed a little surprised, you thought, though it was hard to tell. He was difficult to read, and you’d only just met him. He nodded reassuringly before looking to Agent Hotchner expectantly while you waited, your insides in knots.

“(Y/N), Spencer is going to go with you in your vehicle, and we’ll be following behind. Take us as close as you can without being obvious. Reid,” He turned to the handsome agent, “We’re going to check the car first, can you-“ He gestured wordlessly in your direction, which made you frown in confusion.

Reid nodded, and you watched as the two other agents moved to search your car, while he moved toward you. “I’m going to search you for weapons, okay?” He explained, holding his hands out as if waiting for your permission.

You stared, perhaps a beat too long, at his long-fingered hands. With a shy bob of your head, you looked to Reid, “Of course, I understand.” And the agent began to pat you down as you stood awkwardly.

It wasn’t as though the action was intimate or affectionate, but for whatever reason, you did feel his touch was hesitant. He was gentle, considerate...it surprised you. And then his hands slid up your back as he stood in front of you, and you became acutely aware of the thin cotton t-shirt your wore, instantly becoming self-conscious. You wondered what he thought of you, of your body.

Mind out of the gutter, you told yourself.

It was then, when Reid leaned back, his hands sliding from your back to your chest, that time seemed to stand still, just for a moment. They moved across your stomach briefly, and as they began to pull away, the search complete, you looked up. Reid was staring at you, his cheeks flushed, eyes heavy. You caught your breath, his gaze was so intense, but before you could even try to think of what to say, he was swiftly stepping back, breaking eye contact with a heavy swallow.

You were kind of relieved. That had been almost too intense, whatever that was. The relief lasted only moments until Agent Hotchner called out that your car was good to go, and you remembered you had a twenty-minute car ride alone with the Reid.

Fuck.

The first few minutes of the drive are bearable enough, Spencer takes the wheel as you give him directions to the subdivision where you had dropped Peter off. It’s when the silence starts to press in, and you don’t know what to say to fill it, that things swiftly change.

Sensing the tension, no doubt, Reid reaches out to the audio power button and hits your stereo on. With an internal groan, you suddenly wish you could just jump out of the moving vehicle when the song you’d been listening to picks back up.

'Cause I've had everything But no one's listening And that's just fucking lonely I'm so lonely Lonely

You had put on a playlist you considered your ‘sad songs’ compilation for whenever you were let down by Peter or any other man. You enjoyed wallowing in self-pity for just a little while after each encounter. But now, as Justin Bieber crooned sadly, you didn't feel sad, just humiliated. You were in your car with a fiercely hot FBI agent who had given you some kind of fucking bedroom eyes just minutes ago as he pats you down, and this song plays.

Your expression must have been obvious, as you saw Reid look at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, frowning somewhat. When the song ended, you didn’t get a chance to be relieved before ‘Somebody to Love” began playing. This time, you sighed aloud, sinking somewhat into your seat and wishing you could dissolve into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch.

Until that is, you glanced up and saw Reid’s fingers tapping gently on the steering wheel to the beat. Surprised, you looked around to the agent and he was mouthing the words, singing along with the chorus. Stunned, you just watched him for a moment, quickly finding yourself enraptured by the way his plump lips moved around the words, how his tongue would wet them between lines, how his eyes-

Fuck, he was looking right at you. You smiled quickly but looked away, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You really had much bigger, more important shit to be concerned with right now, yet here you were wondering what the hell this perfect man, this FBI agent that was far too handsome for his own good, was doing singing along with the silly song, and why the look he gave you had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Not to mention, the guilt that accompanied those thoughts, brief as they were, of what the lips would feel like on yours. What they would feel like on your body. Wrapped around your cock. Fuck.

He hadn’t said anything, but his fingers continued to tap along with the beat with ease. Eventually, when you directed him to the final turn, you chanced another glance at him. As if expecting your gaze, he turned his head and smiled at you, “I’m Spencer, by the way, Dr. Spencer Reid.” You blinked. Doctor?

“Oh, uh. Wow. Nice to meet you, Dr-“

“You can call me Spencer,” He cut in, his expression somewhat amused.

You nodded, “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Though I wish it were under different circumstances, perhaps where I wasn’t a criminal piece of shit.”

He pulled the car over, stopped at the community mailbox you had described as the perfect place to park. Once he’d turned the engine off, he turned to face you, those warm eyes giving you a gentle look. “You aren’t a criminal piece of shit, (Y/N),” Oh, you loved the way your name sounded coming from him. “I’d go as far as to say you’re a victim in all of this.”

You scoffed, waving a hand in protest, “No, I really should have known better than to help Peter.”

But Spencer shook his head, “As I said earlier, we saw the messages. He manipulates you, and he doesn’t ever tell you what he’s actually doing. He just gets you to give him rides, acts like it’s a way to hang out when really he’s using you as a cover because, in reality, you’re a law-abiding, hardworking, kind man. Men like him don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, (Y/N).”

Letting out a breath, your mind went blank at Spencer’s words, failing you entirely. You believed every word he’d said, and you felt warm all over at the intense way he watched you, it was almost...protective.

Before your mind could reboot and you could trust yourself to open your mouth and not simply drool, a tap on the window drew your eyes beyond Spencer. Agent Hotchner stood there, waiting patiently with his arms crossed.

Spencer climbed out of your car, but you stayed put, glad for a moment to close your eyes and try to steady your beating heart. After this was over, you were climbing into your bathtub and staying there for the rest of the week. Maybe the rest of the month.

“Prentiss and JJ are parked at the North end, they’re going to come with us. Can you wait here, with (Y/N), and call Garcia and have him give her the other locations?”

You heard Spencer agree and bid his fellow agents goodbye before climbing back into your car. He smiled warmly at you, and you couldn’t help but return it, your own shy and uncertain. “You heard what our task is?” He asked you, his head tilted again, watching you curiously.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. But first, can you give me your phone, please?” He held his hand out expectantly. You handed it over, first pointing it towards your face to unlock it. His fingers brushed yours when he took the phone from you, and if you hadn’t been looking at him already, you wouldn’t have believed it was intentional. But it was because at the slight contact, your eyes had widened and Spencer...Spencer had smirked.

He clicked around on your phone for a moment, hit one final button and then passed it back to you, looking satisfied. When you took it back, his phone chimed in his pocket. Confused, you peered down at your screen to see he’d added his name to your contacts and sent himself a text from your phone. Well fuck.

He was watching you with an amused expression, “Once this case is over, (Y/N), I’d love it if you would allow me to take you to dinner.”

“I, wow,” You stammered, nervously running your hair through your hair. His eyes followed your movement, and you saw a glint behind the warmth, of desire. Hunger. You didn’t think twice. “I’d love to, Spencer.” He grinned at you.

And surprising even yourself, you reached out and squeezed his hand. And when he returned the pressure and ran his thumb softly across the back of your hand, all thoughts of Peter left your mind as *NSYNC played in the background and you didn’t feel lonely anymore.

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

✨Taglist: @mermaidxatxheart @paintballkid711 @snitchthewitch

#reader insert #fanfic #fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #bau x reader #bau fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fic request #reid x reader #feedback appreciated

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bts-trash-blog · 5 years ago

Text

My protector: Min Yoongi

Summary: People don’t know how to keep their months shut, thought you know how to shut them up.

Paring: PantherHybrid!Yoongi X RabbitHybrid! Reader

Warning: Fluff, slight angst and some hints at some insecurities on Yoongi side

Quarantine request! I hope you like it!!

The soft feeling of fur, of a thin like tail made you hum softly as you slowly stretched your arms out in front of you. Making the body behind you tighten their tight hold around your waist, slowly sitting up your look over to see a sleeping Yoongi. Watching his slightly pointy fluff balck ears flicker as his eyes slowly open, the yellow brown color of his eyes peeking through his partially open eyes as his fingers slightly kneaded into your waist. Your hand moved to cup his well defined jaw, as his sharp canine teeth peek through his lower lips as he yawned your way his legs stretching as you felt his the tip of his tail flick slightly as his eyes open all the way.

“Morning bun.” He mumbled making you smile as you lean in and press your lips to his for a quick peck making him let out a purr like sound and you trail your lips down his chin to his jaw, slightly nibbling as you felt his hands rub your back. As you lick at his neck, and nibble slightly at his skin he couldn’t help but shiver and then giggle as he slightly pluss you away making you pout. “Feeling cuddly bun?” You couldn’t help but nod as one of your hands moved to slide under his neck and around his shoulder as the other wraps around his waist. “Any reason for these cuddles?” His question made you look down as his hand was trailing against your arm that was resting against his waist, watching his fingers trace shapes into your skin made heat spread around your neck to the tops of your cheeks.

“Love you, that's all.” Your words made him chuckle as his nose nudge against the top of your head affectionately, making your heart thump rapidly against your chest.

“Love you too bun...so much.” Pulling away from you, made a whine pass your lips as he rolled out of your bed, sitting up you watched him stretch as you huff and slightly thump your hand against the bed making him freeze. “Don’t you thump at me, it’s time to get ready for the day.” huffing you slam your hand against the bed again making him slightly glare at you as you watch his black tail swish behind him. His ears flick as you slam your hand against the bed again, making him slightly growl and roll his eyes. “Don’t be a brat bun, it's not cute.” Thump. “Bun we need to get ready, I have work and you have school.” Thump. “Out of bed.” Thump.” “Stop being a brat.” Thump. “Y/n, I said stop.” Letting out a huff you stand from the bed and stomp off to the bathroom making Yoongi let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as his tail flicks behind him. “Don’t fall for it..don’t fall for it..” Thump. “Fuck it.” He rushed to the bathroom to see you standing next to the shower as you let the water warm up. Your black fluffy tails slightly twitched made him smile as he moved forwards and grabbed at it making you squeal out a surprised moan. Turning around you slap his chest making him let out a belly laugh.

“Leave my tail alone you cat! Go and get dressed, since cuddling me for ten more minutes is so hard.” He lets out a small huff as his fingers move to play with your floppy ears, your hand pushing his arm away as you back away. His eyes close, as if he was in slight pain only to shoot back open as you begin to push him out of the bathroom.

“I need a shower.”

“You showered last night, go get ready.” You grumbled slamming the door in his face, the sound of the lock clicking made him growl as he slammed his fist against the wooden door. “You don’t scare me you big stupid kitty!”

“You’re such a brat!” He growled and walked away, leaving you smirking as you crawl into the shower. This is gonna be fun.

Walking out of the bedroom after getting dressed, you walked out to the kitchen your damp hair was pulled up in a ponytail, shorts and a large sweater of yours. As you do your greeted by a suit and tie Yoongi, his white dress shirt tucked into some bacl slacks as he finished tightening his tie, you wanted to melt and give him a kiss right then and there, but you fought your need, and grabbed your book back and a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Bun.” Yoongi mumbled, making you turn away as you go to slip on your vans, his body slipping behind you as you nudge his hand, that he placed onto your shoulder, off of you. “Oh really this is the game you're playing. Fine. Enjoy your day.” He mumbled kissing the back of your head, as you rolled your eyes and left your shared apartment, you heard him whine, thinking that you’d turn around and give him a kiss, that you'd break that easily. How wrong he was.

__________________________________________________________________

When lunch time rolled around, you and a few of your classmates were sitting in the courtyards of your college campus books in laps as you talked about your shared morning lessons. With the twitch of your nose you smelt the familiar cologne, and then you heard him huffing as you watched your friends slightly tense as he stopped about a foot or two behind you. Though hybrids and humans were almost equals, there was now the issue of predator and prey breeds and their natural instinct that fought against each other. Prey feared the predator. Feared that they would become feral at any time. Especially the big cats. The hunters.

So your relationship was unique.

He poked your shoulder making you shrug it off as you heard and felt him bend down behind you. Poke. Making you hunch forward as your friends watched, some with fear, some with disgust and some with slight want. As from what you could tell from the sound of his lips pratting, he went to speak, but one person spoke up, cutting him off with disgust laced in every single one of his words.

“What is the panther doing here?” They were newer in your friend group, not really knowing about your relationship, only knowing that you had a boyfriend that you lived with, and that he didn’t enjoy selfies. They were a mouse hybrid, small, and plae, but from before this point they seemed sweet.“You’re not wanted here.” he followed, making you and your friend Soojin scoff, as you glare at them, even though you wanted to continue your silent treatment till you were home and he was pouting at you on the couch. Your relationship, and the pride you take in it, comes first.

“He is wanted here, he is the love of my life, come here baby.” You mumbled turning around, arms open, making the frozen panthers blink slowly as he cleared his throat shaking his head as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I actually got to get back to work, just wanted to drop off some of your favorite veggie stir fry from that one pace..um I love you bun.” He mumbled as he handed you a bag, the smell of your favorite meal made your nose twitch as you cup his cheek leaning forward as you push your lips against his.

“Love you, have a good day at work.” He nodded sadly, standing up he pats your head as he softly waves at the group of you and walks away. You watch him till you not he can’t hear the conversation you knew was coming.

“You’re dating a thing like him?” Yana spat out, her already big sugar gliders eyes widened even more as the mouse hybrid, Minho nodded in agreement. “He could go feral on you at any moment,he could really hurt you just because you surprise him or something. Also he calls you bun isn’t that like degratting or something.” She continues not noticing the anger fuming from the tips of your ears, your bent knees giving you an advantage to actually thump your foot hard against the ground.

“Yeah and it's just wrong, he’s a predator he should be with a predator like how you should be with a prey.” You thump again, making it more noticeable as Soojin joined in. Dangers being glared at the two.

“My Yoongi is the kindest, most gentle creature I know. Those feral rumors aren't true, they only do that when they have been hurt or abused. Just like how we could go feral. Also isn’t that like saying you and your human boyfriend is wrong?” Her lips parted as you started to shove your books into our book bag, standing Soojin followed.

“No it’s not wrong, humans and hybrids have been dating since we were bred as pets three hundraed years ago.”

“Most weren't in relationship with the humans they were forced to sleep with. My relationship with Yoongi is just a imortrant, and should be just as respected as your own. Now go kindaly fuck yourselves with a catus and delete my number.” You said with a smile as you and Soonjin walked off, but not before Soojin turned her head and smiled brightly at them with her middle fingers up at them.

“Suck our fluffy cute tails bitches!” Her words made you laugh as she turned back around and wrapped her arm over your shoulder as you moved away from the two. “Are you gonna share that stir fry?”

___________________________________________________________

As you walked through your apartment door, you saw your boyfriend spread out on the couch, sweat pants, and a loose tank top his hair fluffed out from a shower. Smiling, you dropped your book back and launched yourself onto his chest making the air leave his lungs as he chuckled softly at you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as you pressed your forehead against his, making him shut his eyes as he relaxed.

“Why are you apologizing?” His question made your heart speed up, loving that he knew your small animal traits. Your hand rubbed against his chest as you open your eyes to stare at him, making you giggle as you straddle his stomach and sit up, his hands falling to the tops of your thighs.

“For being bratty...and for what those two asshats said to you.” He rolled his eyes slightly as his thumbs drew circles into your bare thighs.

“Isn’t anything we hadn’t heard before.” You sigh at him as he looks at you and closes his eyes, a painful sigh leaving his lips as he opens them back up. Sadness and insecurities swimming in his iries making you frown down at him, your hand moving to his forearms as you rub at the skin. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m gonna say it.”

“You don’t need to.”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t, I know my thoughts are stupid.”

“Stupid yes, but they’re real and I don’t like you thinking them.” You said, as you lean down to rest your head against his neck making his hands move to the swell of your butt up to your back as you kiss his neck. “I love you, and I could give two shits what people think, you are my protector not some predator to me. Do you understand, my kitty?”

“Yes I do bun..I love you.”

I love you too.”

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duskholland · 5 years ago

Text

Breaking Windows (Peter Parker)

Summary: You’re Thor’s daughter and may have a teeny tiny crush on your classmate and fellow Avenger, Peter Parker.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Action and fluff! There’s a fight scene and a minor injury, but it’s nothing too gruesome. Also like one swear word? Otherwise just fluff.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in...a year and a half? Ish? I’m nervous to post it but I really like how it turned out! It was requested and I love the concept and had a great time writing it, so thank you anon! I hope you like it too :D

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging… There are ways to escape a building that don’t involve leaping from the fifty-third floor.”

You scoff loudly. “Peter, I can fly,” you remind him. You stretch your hands above your head and let out a muffled groan as your muscles tense and flex, the tension of the previous battle draining away as you walk into the Avengers compound, your companion following just behind.

“And?” Peter squeaks. You glance to your friend and feel a little bad when you see the concern in his eyes. “You could still get hurt.” His eyes narrow. “Look- you still have glass in your hair!”

You bat clumsily at your head, hands scraping through your messy locks. “Got it?”

“Nope.”

You pause abruptly, irritation causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “Stupid glass,” you mutter. You’d already spent several minutes picking shards from your hair, and several hours more regretting your choice to dive through that window. Not that you’d ever admit that to Peter.

“Do you want me to get it?” Peter asks, voice gentle. He’s eyeing a spot just above your left temple.

You sigh, deflated and defeated. “Yeah, please.” You bow your head.

Peter shifts a little closer, and for the first time you become truly aware of the circumstances.

Now seventeen, Peter’s shoulders have filled out and he stands full and stocky, the worn reds and blues of his spidey suit clinging to the definition of his arms and chest. When you move your gaze up, you see ashy black lines clinging to his jaw, and a bit of soot nestled up against his ear. The wildness of his brown hair as it sticks up in all directions really adds to the whole just-escaped-from-battle look he has going on.

You smile quietly as you feel his fingers knock through your hair, and remain silently still as he works his magic.

Maybe you have a tiny crush on Peter. Maybe. But you’re both seniors at Midtown, and you’re both also superheroes who have to work together, so it’s complicated. Far too complicated.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t admire him.

“Got it,” Peter says. He’s part way through bringing his hands back from your hair when there’s a sudden burst of noise, and from around the corner comes two all-too-familiar figures.

“Oh- what do we have here?” You can practically hear the smirk in Tony Stark’s voice as he swaggers forward.

Peter quickly snatches his hands back, jumping away from you as if he’s just been caught doing something incredibly sinful.

“I told you,” Thor’s voice bellows. “Two young ones like these. Keep them together enough and… Well, I told you.” His eyes flick to you, a loose grin on his face.

“Shut up, dad,” you mutter. Embarrassment flames the apples of your cheeks as you scowl at Thor.

“Oi.” Tony and Thor are in front of you now, and Thor’s got his arms crossed. “I’m just saying.” You receive an affectionate scruff of your head from your father.

“No canoodling on official Avengers business,” Tony chimes in, voice lilted with tease. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to start separating you both now.”

You groan, exasperated beyond belief. You’re tired, sore, and dirty from spending the last two hours fighting off New York’s newest threat, and now you’re dealing with this. “Goodbye,” you say, and grab Peter’s arm before he can complain. You drag him away from Thor and Tony and across to your room, slamming the door behind you as pointedly as possible. “They are so annoying!” You groan, resting your forehead against the cool wood.

“They call us immature.”

Your and Peter’s laughs mingle in the air, and you turn to meet his tired gaze. His cheeks are flushed and his lips a cherry red, and you find yourself momentarily losing your breath as you take in just how cute he is.

“I should go shower,” you say, after a moment of looking. Peter nods his head.

“Yeah, me too.” He scratches at his arm, looking down at his feet. “See you in class tomorrow?”

You nod, moving away from the door so he can shuffle past you. “Definitely.”

Peter’s hand rests on the doorknob for a moment of indecision, before he blurts- “No more spontaneous jumping out of windows, yeah? You’ll give me a heart attack.”

You grin. “But it makes my cape look cool!” You protest.

“I don’t care!” Peter’s laughing, but he’s still frowning. “You’re my partner- you- you have to be safe.”

You feel your heart melt. His eyes are round and soft and flooded with concern, and he’s staring at you bashfully. “I’ll be safe,” you promise. You’re starting to feel a little guilty now. “Besides, if ever I’m not safe, I’m pretty sure I know someone who’ll be near that can save me.”

Peter tilts his head to the side. “Who, Thor?”

“No, silly.” You reach out and push his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “You!”

His cheeks flame. “Oh…”

“Unless you don’t want to save me?” You tease, rocking back on your heels. He looks frazzled, and you can’t help but swoon slightly as he runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“No, no. I’ll save you.” Peter finally twists the doorknob and steps aside, preparing to head out. He looks up to you, a mischievous grin on his face. “My life would be pretty boring if you weren’t around to keep it interesting.” He raises a hand in a friendly wave as he walks away. “See ya tomorrow!”

“Bye!”

You quickly shut your door and immediately press your back against the wood, sliding down until you’re resting on the floor with your knees pulled to your chest. You groan quietly, hands fisting your hair as you try to calm your racing heart.

“God damnit,” you mutter. You close your eyes and all you see is Peter and his stupidly cute lopsided smile floating behind your eyelids. You sigh, and open your eyes to instead stare up at the ceiling.

Maybe your crush is growing a little out of control.

----------------

It’s the following week when it happens again.

One moment you’re sat in maths class, mindlessly scrawling the answers to the pop quiz (turns out Midtown is a breeze compared to the education you got on Asgard), and the next the hairs on the back of your neck are standing on end as a cold feeling of dread sweeps through you. Your eyes dart up, finding Peter’s from two rows of desks away, and a moment later the both of you leave the room without a word.

“What is it?” You ask him, digging through your bag as the two of you walk quickly down the corridor of the school. Luckily no one’s around to gawk as you pull out your sword and quickly change out your jumper for your cape.

“Looks like it’s those Chitauri scrappers again.”

You’re at the end of the corridor now, and you peer out of the window to see Peter’s right: in the distance you recognise the same glowing purple light from the battle the week before. You eye the staircase to your right, and realise you’re on the fourth floor of the school.

“Race you?” You offer, hands already on the window sill. You jerk up the glass panes and feel the cool afternoon breeze rush onto you. The feeling of the wind on your skin is like no other - being the daughter of Thor, the God of Thunder, certainly has its perks.

Peter grabs your shoulder just before you’re ready to launch out into the city. He’s traded his clothes for his suit, but his face is still there, a deep worried line between his eyebrows, his mouth pursed with worry. “Be safe.”

His hand is on your shoulder, and he’s looking at you with such care and adoration that you just can’t help yourself. As if you’re two opposing magnets, suddenly his arms are around you and your mouth is on his, your lips connecting in a hot kiss. You melt into his body as you grab at his hair, his mouth feeling so good against yours. It feels like it lasts a blissful, wonderful infinity, but you know it’s only a few stolen seconds before you pull away. There’s a moment of silence, of you looking at him, and him looking at you, his head tilted a little to the side, and you know that a line in your friendship has been crossed. But is that such a bad thing?

“Last one there is a loser,” you say, after a moment. There’s a smile fixed to your face so strongly that you doubt you could drop it, even if you tried. You reach up and ruffle his hair before turning your back on him and launching yourself out of the window.

Wind rushes past your face as you soar across the city, happy laughter escaping your mouth. Your sword hangs off your belt as you do a few spins through the air, just because you can, and you have to concentrate extremely hard in order to calm down from your unbelievable high as you approach the dangerous scrappers. The last time you’d had a run in with them, they’d scarpered before you and Peter could apprehend them, taking with them several thousands of dollars worth of alien weapons. Today, you can’t afford to let them get away.

When you’re nearer the action zone, things pull into focus. It doesn’t look good. There are around twenty scrappers spread down the busy high street, but unlike last time, they are now equipped with the dangerous Chituari technology that they’d stolen from Tony’s lab. They have blasters of all shapes and sizes, and you can already see scorches on the side of buildings and rubble littering the streets. Though some of the Avenger team have already arrived, the civilians haven’t yet been cleared, and you feel your heart sink as you notice how near some of them are to the danger.

The communication device you’ve got shoved in your ear buzzes to life now you’re in the vicinity of the team, and it’s only a moment later that you get your instruction. “Y/N, clear the street with Peter. We’ve got this for now,” comes the stressed bark of Ironman. You mutter an affirmative agreement and quickly swoop down, landing on the street with a loud thump.

You begin scattering the crowd, using your sword to offer a barrier from any flying debris and laser beams that might harm the screaming people. After about a minute of your work, Peter shows up, swinging from between the towering buildings of the city before landing next to you. You hear him get similar instructions and look to him, flashing him a quick smile.

“I beat you,” you yell, voice rising above the noise. You continue to usher the civilians out of the street.

Peter scoffs, his voice static through your earpiece as he swings around, roping back the bricks and scaffolding that threaten to topple onto the street. “Barely,” he responds, breathless.

The both of you work together until the street is cleared and all that remains is around ten of the scrappers. They’ve made some considerable damage, even with the Avenger team slowly taking them down. You survey the scene before shooting up into the sky and stretching out your hands. Time to do some real work.

Closing your eyes, you concentrate for a moment on the sky, imagining the power seeping from the clouds into your hands, building, building, building, until…

With a crack of thunder, you blast a large pile of their weaponry with a lightning bolt, causing a few of the scrappers to fly through the air, crashing into the ground where they remain motionless. You hear a few whoops in your earpiece and smile, but only for a moment, because a second later, you’re being shot at by four remaining canons, their dangerous purple strikes skimming uncomfortably close to you.

“Shit,” you mutter, zipping away. They seem intent to pull you from the sky, and with each second, you feel the strikes getting nearer to your skin. As you’re forced to concentrate on dodging them, getting in only the occasional blast at the ground, you hear the static voice of Tony in your ear again.

“You alright being our live bait up there?” He asks. “We have a game plan. Distract them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, pausing to curse as you feel a blast graze your side. “Just hurry.” They’re getting angry now, and you watch as the scrappers focus in on you, seemingly oblivious to the rest of your team on the ground who are slowly approaching them and picking off the weaker outer members.

You continue to pirouette in the sky, doing your best to be a distracting force. After a few minutes alone, you feel the air shift and look behind you to see you’ve been joined by your father. “I can do this by myself,” you say, not unkindly. You watch him shrug.

“Looked like fun up here. Finally some challenge.”

And you work back to back, combining your strength as Gods of the Sky to pinpoint the few remaining scrappers on the ground, just as the ground team swing into action. Before you know it, there’s only one guy left, and he’s glaring up at you with such piercing hatred in his eyes that you feel a little scared. He has one final shot with his canon before he’s webbed up by Peter, but much to your horror, the blinding purple light of his weapon pierces into your leg and you tumble from the sky, pain ricocheting through your body as you curse. Too blinded by agony, you wait for the inevitable collision with the dusty concrete, eyes screwed shut.

It never comes.

Instead, you feel chords of tight stringy material wrap around your body, and swing away from the ground. A moment later, you’re gently lowered to the road, and meet it with a soft oomph. You pry your eyes open and see layers of white sticky spider web wrapped around your entire body, and let out a watery laugh between the tears of pain.

“This- This is gonna take me so long to get off,” you whine, clenching and unclenching your fists as you’re surrounded by the rest of the team. Your head lulls to the side, and your eyes find Peter, who’s now crouching by your head. At your feet, you see Tony, and feel a cold pressure on your leg as one of his machines gets to work stitching you up. Wincing bravely through the pain, you look pleadingly to Peter.

“I can help you,” he says, face white with worry. He keeps glancing to your leg. “Uh- that- that was really impressive,” he mutters, forcing his gaze to your eyes. Grasping the importance for distraction, he clears his throat. “Until the point where you got blasted out the sky, that is,” he adds.

You laugh, the noise slightly strangled but still alight with appreciation. “It was epic,” you agree. “Did you get them all?”

Peter nods, his fluffy hair shifting in the wind. “Yep. Got all the weapons too. They’re taking them all into custody now.” You look back and see Thor roughly shoving the remaining conscious men into the back of a van.

“That’s your leg bandaged,” Tony announces. You look down and see him looking at you, arms crossed. “Try to stay off it for a few days. I know how you Asgardians are, so please, make sure to rest-”

Before he’s finished talking, you’re already on your feet, shaking out your leg as you marvel at his handiwork. It feels like brand new, the pain now just a distant throb.

“Thanks,” you say, beaming.

“Rest it,” he threatens, shaking his finger at you before moving off to help the others.

And then it’s just you and Peter, alone in the middle of the carnage of the street, a pocket of serenity amidst the chaos.

“Thanks for saving me,” you say, a little shy, now. You would’ve been fine if you’d crashed straight into the hard concrete, but you’re feeling particularly smitten now as you look at Peter, his face still pinched with an element of stress, but more relaxed now you’re up and about.

“‘S okay. Said I’d save you, didn’t I?” He replies. He reaches out and pulls at some of the stringy web that still covers your body, and winces. “This might take a bit of work, though.”

You laugh, and stretch your hand out to where his is resting on your side. Your fingers wrap around his and you slowly intertwine them, a tentative movement until he pushes in against you, connecting your palms and squeezing your hand warmly.

“We make a pretty good team,” you say, swallowing nervously. You meet his eyes, his brown eyes warm and inviting, and feel your heart pulse in your chest.

“We do,” he agrees. He steps a little closer, cheeks blooming with a rosy pink. “Maybe we should work together again sometime.”

You nod. He’s directly in front of you now, your hands still laced together. After a moment of just looking, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his waiting lips, your bodies slotting together gently, perfectly. It’s just a small kiss, but in the seconds that span out afterwards, your foreheads press together, and his breath fans out across your face. Your eyes are closed, and for a moment, you feel everything slotting together.

“Oi!” There’s a holler from the end of the street, and you peel back from Peter to see your dad glaring at you. “Stop that.”

You laugh lightly. “Go away!” You respond, and quickly tug Peter in the opposite direction. “They’re going to be so annoying about this, aren’t they?” You mutter, jerking your head back in the direction of the team, whose eyes burn into your backs as you and Peter hurry away.

“Yep.” Peter rolls his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to deal with it.”

You nod your head slowly, your heart feeling lighter than ever before. “I guess we will.”

And what follows may or may not have involved a secluded alley and lots of kissing, but you’d never tell.

----------------

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

#Peter parker #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker oneshot #I LOV MY SOFT SON #my writing #odinson!reader #avenger!reader

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emptyoldroom · 4 years ago

Note

Hihihiiiii! I was wondering if i could get a matchup? Matchups

Hihihiiiii I’m Jas :) i was wanting to see if i could get a matchup. This is probably gonna be pretty long since i’m awful at being consice :,)))) i’m so sorry in advance lol anywayyyyy Im Nonbinary (masc presenting), and pansexual (male preference). Im a scorpio sun and moon with pisces rising. I’m around 5’2” and about 95 lbs. I’m pretty gangly (not tall, just gangly) and thin, but for how small i am, i’m pretty strong. I’ve got golden brown eyes that are round. My hairs naturally brown, but it’s dyed half red and black. It’s cut like todoroki and i brush my hair towards my left :) My clothing style fluctuates from punk himbo to eboy to 2003 emo kid.

My hobbies are anything art related, going exploring outside, writing and reading, and playing video games. All my clothes end up with patches, paint, safety pins, etc.. I’m also obsessed with child psychology and true crime. When i first meet people, i’m pretty standoffish. I’ll be polite, but i’m definitely keeping my walls up if my gut says somethings off. however, once/if I like you enough, i’m super energetic and upbeat. I tend to put other people first and forget to actually do things for myself like set boundaries. I’m very affectionate with others and i thrive on hugs and kisses. Chances are also good that i’ll buy/make you stuff since i’m bad with words. Also, i hope you like rocks and cool bottle caps i find on the ground. Shiny things make my brain go brrrr. I’ve got pretty bad ADHD. I’m pretty forgetful and im also awful at picking up tones. if you say something that sounds slightly mean, chances are good i’m gonna get defensive. or cry. or both. so blunt communications important. I tend to stim a lot when I feel any strong emotions (negative or otherwise). when i get tired and/or cold my tics act up, and I pick up tics from other people pretty easy. My main stims are chewing on things (usually food), shaking my hands, whistling, and hitting my knuckles/wrists together. My main tics are shivers, whistling, hitting my chest, and hitting nearby objects. When i get really stressed, i whistle and start basically convulsing :,)

In a relationship, i need it be best friends first, dating second. Having a strong emotional connection is important to me. They need to understand my boundaries as a friend before we go beyond something more. I need someone who acknowledges and understands that i’m not stupid— i just struggle sometimes with expressing myself verbally. It’s not that i forget the words (in fact i probably have the sentence I wanna say in my head) it’s just most of the time, it won’t come out of my mouth. That’s why *calm* communication is important to me. I need to be able to just take a minute by myself and collect my thoughts and calm down before i have a meltdown because nothing i wanna say is coming out. I’m fine if they are more touch repulsed than i am, however, i would like to at least be able to hold their hand. I’m very protective of my siblings. I’m the oldest to four, work in a kindergarten classroom, and I’m also a preschool teacher. Protecting kids is both an instinct and a job that I don’t take lightly. My chocolate lab is also my best friend, so i’d like for them to at least tolerate kids and dogs. I have 2 other dogs, Rage and Fury, who are very protective and need patience from someone who genuinely likes dogs.

Thank you so so so much! I’m sorry this was so long :,))

ALRIGHT I JUST SAW THIS AND READ IT ALL SO HERE WE GO I MATCH YOU UP WITH!.....

🖌Bloody Painter!🎨

Beautiful Hair! 🖌

He thinks it's so creative how you do your hair! He thinks dyed hair suits well on you and he would love to examine it and he like to play with it and he would be so amazed and the style and creativity

Hobbies 🖌

Of course he's gonna like that you love art like he does and he loves that! He would always want to see what you can do and he love to give you ideas and advice. You also liking to read and write always gives him a more liking to your creativity he would always sit next to you while your 're reading and whenever you would be done writing something he would love to read it and he would always cherish it. For the video games he would just sit and watch you play and I can just see him always congratulating you if you lose or not. He finds it interesting that you find child psychology and true crime he always want you to talk about it and he would want to know more stuff about it.

Interesting style 🖌

He loves your style and he would love to give you safety pins or pins that he made and he thinks it's cute when there's paint on you and sometimes he would see the the patches and would find it all just so creative and unique

Energy 🖌

He would like it that you would be energetic and so upbeat plus he loves energetic people (well...Some) energetic people always somehow make him feel a little safe and they would always find a way to cheer him up.

Wonderful Gifts 🖌

If you give him a rock, bottle cap, or even a tree branch, etc. He would cherish it and put it somewhere safe and whenever he would look at it, it would remind him of you and he would always try giving you something back like maybe a painting or a painted rock.

Understanding 🖌

He understands that you want friendship first and you take a relationship second and he respects that, he also understands your ADHD and tics so he tries his best to make you're still respected has a human and he tries his best to make sure you are safe and you're

Hugs And Kisses <33 🖌

He loves hugs and kisses too so that means you gets lots of them!

#bloody painter #bloody painter headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta matchups #matchup #thatedgysewerkid

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littlemisswolfie · 4 years ago

Text

nothing is so loveless as the break of day

AO3

Cold dawn A waning moon With no companion— Since our parting, nothing is so loveless As the break of day.

—Mibu no Tadamine

Haiji wakes up on his first morning in his new apartment and decides it’s too quiet.

Getting a team of almost complete rookies to the Hakone Ekiden in less than a year is an accomplishment. It’s noteworthy. While Haiji hadn’t been thinking of his future prospects in his last year of college (he just wanted to run), the fact is, what he did should have been impossible, as Kakeru said. Over and over and over.

This, as it turns out, makes him very employable, and somewhere in between his emergency surgery and his final exams and his packing, he gets a job offer to be an assistant coach for a corporate team. He doesn’t really have anything else going for him, so he takes it, and he, Yuki, and King all graduate from Kansei to the cheers of their teammates.

Haiji’s heart is heavy as he steps out of Aotake for the last time as a resident. He knows the team is in good hands, with Kakeru being unanimously voted to succeed him in captainship and several incoming freshman eager to be part of the team that seeded in their first year at Hakone, but it’s bittersweet. He got one year. One year. One year out of four.

“Call me if you need anything,” he tells Kakeru.

Kakeru doesn’t call.

“Hey, Kiyose-san!”

Haiji startles, looking up from his training journal to face one of the runners he’s been charged with inducting to the world of professional running. Tamura Shou, his mind supplies. He’s a bit older than Haiji, with dark hair and brown eyes. “Tamura-san,” he greets, closing his notebook to hide his notes. He knows from experience (from Kakeru) that runners seeing their own stats isn’t always the best idea. “Did you need anything?” The group Haiji is in charge of is taking a break right now so another group can run time trials, so he doesn’t see the harm in a little bit of conversation.

“Well,” Tamura says, looking a little sheepish all of a sudden, “Yoshioka and I have a bet running, and I wanted to ask you straight out, so, do you have a girlfriend, or something?”

(“By the way… Kakeru, do you have a girlfriend?”)

“What.”

Tamura flushes. “F-forget it!” He blusters off to a cluster of other runners.

Haiji blinks, a little stunned. What would have made him think Haiji had a girlfriend?

Cooking for one is hard. Haiji always makes too much.

He still talks to Yuki and King, sometimes. Yuki’s trailblazing his way through both the legal track and several women’s beds and is always eager to talk about each conquest. Haiji enjoys his career talk and tolerates his womanizing talk. King finally found work as a guidance counselor at a nearby middle school, and he’s the faculty supervisor for their men’s track and field team. Haiji never lets him forget how reluctant he was to start running in the first place.

The three of them meet up for drinks every once in a while. Haiji considers proposing inviting the older members of their old track team, but decides against it. Seeing them feels sad, like trying to relive that last glorious year of college would be betraying his friends.

“Haiji, King,” Yuki slurs one night after a few too many drinks, “you need to get girlfriends already.”

King blushes. “Shut it! I’m busy enough as it is without a woman getting in my way!”

Haiji sighs. First Tamura-san, and now this. What is it with the world prying into his romantic life? “I’m content,” he tells Yuki. “I already got everything I could ever want. What else can I ask for?”

He almost goes to a track meet to see if Kansei is there. He decides against it.

His team goes away for a training camp. Haiji can get around pretty well with his crutches by now, so he goes with them.

Okinawa is beautiful in the summer. Haiji leans out the window of the van his group takes and watches the passerby, the teenagers on their skateboards and the families walking together. He remembers how much the twins wanted to come here last summer. (He wonders where Kansei went this year, if they went anywhere at all.)

Watching the runners run is always hard. He wants to run with them, feel the wind in his hair, use his muscles that have become lax in the months since Hakone, hear his heart thunder in his ears. Wants to see if that white line that was always under Kakeru’s feet is anywhere else.

(He doubts it.)

He helps cook the meals for the team, like he used to for Kansei, but it feels wrong to cook with someone other than Kakeru next to him. He’d only had company in the kitchen for a year, but he grew used to it, and cooking without Kakeru is foreign.

He wonders if Kakeru cooks with anyone new at Aotake. He wonders why the thought makes his stomach twist up in knots.

He doesn’t visit his parents very often. What would they even have to talk about, other than running?

He’s off his crutches by then, but he still doesn’t get to go watch the Ekiden in person. Training starts that day, after all, and he’s too new to be able to beg off to watch his former team compete in a relay race. Instead, he watches the highlights when he gets back to his lonely apartment both nights.

Not everyone from last year is running the race. Prince, Jota, and Nico-chan-senpai all act as supports rather than runners, but they’re wearing their track suits, so Haiji knows they’re still on the team. He’s surprised at Nico-chan-senpai not running. It’s his last year.

The team is strong, much stronger than when Haiji was captain. He knows that’s because of their success last year. If they hadn’t made it to the Ekiden already, their team would be pretty much unknown. But the sight of all these strong runners working together with his friends makes something ugly bubble up in Haiji’s chest. He wants to be there with them. He wants to be running that race.

Kakeru beats the section nine record again. Haiji watches him hand the sash off to the last runner, some first-year, and remembers when that was him.

Kansei finishes eighth.

Kakeru doesn’t call him.

After their graduation, Shindo and Nico-chan-senpai join their nights out. Shindo’s working as a business analyst for the corporation sponsoring Haiji’s team, so they see each other more frequently than the others already, and Nico-chan-senpai is still doing his freelance programming.

“Whoa,” Yuki says the first time they meet up, “you cut your hair!” His fingers brush Nico-chan-senpai’s newly-short hair almost reverently. “You almost look like a functional person!”

“Thanks, I really missed this,” Nico-chan-senpai snarks, but his eyes are unbearably soft.

The conversational inevitably turns to Kansei. “It’s so strange,” Shindo muses one night, before he gets too drunk. “I got so used to it just being the ten of us that working with all those new people was weird.”

“They just kept hangin’ around Aotake, too,” Nico-chan-senpai grumbles. “As if the twins weren’t loud enough already.”

Shindo groans. “And they’re even worse now that Hana-chan’s at Kansei. They have some sort of pact to not pursue her until they graduate, but they’re so moony. Musa and I were never like that.”

What?

Haiji’s glad he’s not the only one confused by this statement. A quick glance around their table tells him the rest of his former teammates look just as shocked. Well, except for Nico-chan-senpai, who just nods in agreement, like this is a reasonable thing for Shindo to be saying. “Uh, Shindo?” he says. “What are you talking about?”

Shindo looks at them like they’re all stupid. “Uh, me and Musa? We’ve been dating since last year’s Ekiden?”

“HAH?!” Yuki slams his hands on the table, jostling everyone’s beer.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Shido’s neck is red, now, and not thanks to the alcohol for once. “It’s not like we were trying to hide it or anything!”

“I-I thought you were straight, though!” King says, flushing red under his tanned skin. “You had a girlfriend!”

“Bisexuality exists, you know,” Nico-chan-senpai drawls. Haiji doesn’t miss how his eyes flicker over to Yuki as he says this, or how Yuki stares straight at Shindo, ears red. Huh.

“Kakeru misses you,” Shindo says to him after the others leave for the night (or early morning, whichever is more accurate). “You should give him a call, sometime.”

“He could also call me,” Haiji points out.

What good could I ever do to him? he wonders silently. I can’t even run anymore.

The revelation of Shindo and Musa’s relationship is one Haiji can’t help but dwell on. Looking back on it, he realizes the signs were there. They were always close, after all, and Musa ended up dragging a drunk Shindo back to his room on more than one occasion. It was weird to see one of them without the other close behind.

So, he thinks, maybe this was inevitable.

He imagines their relationship, sometimes, when he’s alone, lying in bed in his too-empty apartment. They’re probably easy. Comfortable. They don’t have to fill a silence. They’re content to just be with each other.

He wonders if Kakeru has anyone like that.

He hopes not. Does that make him a bad person?

Now that he knows about Shindo and Musa, Haiji can’t help but wonder if any of his other former teammates are like them, so he does what he does best: he watches.

It only takes a few more guys’ nights out to notice how Nico-chan-senpai keeps looking at Yuki. He only does it when he thinks no one is looking, but his eyes are soft, affectionate, loving in a way that makes Haiji ache. Has anyone ever looked at him like that? Like he hung the stars in the sky? Like he’s the answer to everything?

“Why haven’t you said anything?” he asks Nico-chan-senpai when Yuki heads back to the bar to hit on a girl. Shindo and King are talking loudly to each other about their respective jobs, both already three sheets to the wind, so Haiji’s not concerned with either of them overhearing.

Nico-chan-senpai doesn’t pretend to not know what he’s talking about. “I’m content with how things are,” he says, looking wistful. “I’d rather have his friendship and pine than risk losing him over a confession.”

Haiji nods, even if he doesn’t really understand. Then, a little quieter, he asks, “How many of the original team do you think are…?”

“Queer?” Nico-chan-senpai supplies. Haij flushes. “Well, Shindo and Musa for sure, and me, obviously. I have my suspicions about Kakeru, but I’m not sure.”

Haiji feels his world stutter to a stop. Kakeru?

He can’t stop imagining it, now. Has Kakeru ever kissed another boy? Did he sneak around with his classmates in high school? Is Kakeru with a boy right now, in his room at Aotake?

Haiji hates the thought.

He pulls up his phone browser and types in “what does it mean if i get mad at the thought of my friend with a guy” and deletes it. He already knows the answer.

He throws himself into his coaching to try and distract himself from his new intrusive thought. His runners aren’t thrilled with his newfound enthusiasm, but it gets results, so none of them can really be mad about it.

“What, did you get dumped, or something?” Tamura jokes.

“Five more laps!” Haiji tells him with a cheerful smile.

When Hakone rolls around this year, Haiji watches the replay of Kakeru beating his own record once again, and Kasei takes fourth place. After, Haiji pulls up Kakeru’s contact information and stares at the call button for a good minute.

He decides not to call.

The first time Musa and Prince join them after their graduation, Shindo downs five beers in ten minutes and spends the rest of the night in Musa’s lap. Musa (who has a goatee, now, and it suits him pretty well) manages a surprisingly normal conversation around his clingy boyfriend, and that’s how Haiji learns he’s staying in Tokyo for grad school.

“Visas are complicated,” he says. “Until the laws change and Takashi and I can get married, the only way I can stay here for now is as a student.”

Musa calls Shindo by his first name. Haiji’s not sure what to make of that.

Prince got a job as a shonen manga editor. “I’m not going to be working on any major projects for a while,” he grumbles. “What’s the point of editing manga if you don’t get to touch the big ones?”

“Hey,” Haiji soothes, “at least you get to work with manga! And who knows, maybe you’ll be tasked with a sleeper hit!”

“That’s what my girlfriend keeps telling me,” Prince groans.

Yuki almost drops his glass. “Girlfriend?”

King whirls around and grabs Prince by the collar. “I can’t believe you got a girlfriend before me!”

Nico-chan-senpai makes a considering noise. “That’s three of us with actual partners, huh? Shindo and Musa, and Prince.”

Musa laughs. “Four, soon, if the twins have their way!”

“I thought they were waiting until they graduated to ask Hana-chan out,” Haiji says.

“No, no, they are. They’re trying to set Kakeru up with a guy they met at this year’s Ekiden.”

Haiji’s blood roars in his ears.

“Oh, that guy from Rikudo?” Prince asks. “What was his name? Miyamura?”

“Miyamoto,” Musa corrects. “Miyamoto Jurou. They went against each other in Section 9. Jota saw him checking Kakeru out and decided they should get together.”

“I swear to god,” Yuki grits out, “if Kakeru loses his virginity before I get a steady girlfriend, I’m going to murder someone.”

So will Haiji, he thinks.

Nico-chan-senpai pulls him aside as everyone else leaves the bar. “I saw that look earlier,” he says. “What’s got you so upset about Kakeru?”

Haiji really doesn’t want to talk about this, so he says, “I’ll tell you if you promise to ask Yuki out by our next guys’ night.”

And so the subject is dropped.

He goes home that night and looks up Miyamoto Jurou. He’s a third year at Rikudo, studying literature, and he’s tall and good looking, and he gave Kakeru a run for his money at this year’s Ekiden.

And he can run.

In what feels like a breach of their semi-distanced guys’ nights, Haiji finds himself at Shindo and Musa’s tiny apartment a few weeks later for a housewarming party.

It’s been Shindo’s apartment for a year now, but with Musa moving in, it feels kind of like a home. The decor is a healthy mix of Shindo’s country sensibilities and Musa’s colorful Tanzanian culture, and the two young men seem so at ease in this space they’ve made with each other that Haiji kind of wants to cry.

More than anything (okay, maybe not more than running) he misses this. He misses living with someone else. He misses the noise and the companionship. Every morning, he wakes up to his empty apartment and he feels lonely.

He’s so caught up in this feeling that he misses Kakeru, Jota, Joji, and Hana-chan arriving until he hears something hit the floor. His head whips around and he sees Kakeru standing in the doorway, mouth slightly open in shock and a convenience store bag filled with what looks like plastic bottles of green tea at his feet. Haiji feels his heart stop.

Because Kakeru is gorgeous. He’s always been good looking, Haiji knows, but that was a lot easier to deal with when he saw Kakeru on a daily basis. Now, it’s been a little over two years since the last time he saw him, and he’s wholly unprepared.

But everyone is looking at him, now, and he knows Kakeru kind of hates being the center of attention and that’s what’s going to happen if he keeps staring at him like an idiot, so he forces his face into a smile and waves. “Hi, Kakeru. Long time, no see.”

Things are more than a little tense, even if everyone pretends the atmosphere is normal. No matter where Haiji goes in the tiny apartment, he can feel Kakeru’s eyes on him, burning a hole in his skin.

He tries to make the most of the party. He catches up with the twins and Hana-chan, who have all fallen into leadership roles as the years went on with ease. Now that Hana-chan is a Kansei student herself, she can help them full-time, which has, apparently, been very helpful. “Plus,” Joji whispers to him, already drunk, “having a cute manager is a huge morale boost!”

Jota and Joji are sort of like sub-captains, from what Haiji gathers. Kakeru is the main authority on all things running, but Jota and Joji, who specialize in sprinting and long-distance running respectively, have been overseeing those aspects of the team’s practice. “We have almost twenty guys now,” Jota says, “so it’s hard for Kakeru to give them all one-on-one attention, so Joji and I focus on the broader things while he nitpicks.”

“That’s a great idea,” Haiji praises, and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his mouth when he sees how Jota preens. This feels right, advising his former teammates like this. It’s different from the feeling he gets coaching the corporate team, because that’s a team, but this is Haiji’s family.

He wishes he could turn back time. He wishes he could live in that final, wonderful year of college for the rest of his life.

He wishes he could run again.

He can’t avoid Kakeru forever. Nico-chan-senpai makes sure of that, because when he escapes to the balcony for a breath of the cool night air, he hears Nico-chan-senpai say, loudly, “Oh, Haiji? Yeah, he just went out those doors! You should go check on him.”

Is this revenge? Haiji wonders. Is this him paying me back for trying to make him make a move on Yuki? It must be.

He doesn’t look up when he hears the sliding door open and then close again, or when he feels Kakeru walking up next to him to lean on the rail. “You never called,” he says, staring at the city streets below, still alive even in the dark.

Kakeru sighs. “I figured you would be too busy, with your rehab and your new team and all.”

“I’m never too busy for you.”

“Yeah, you say that, but you would do something stupid, like sleep less, to make time to talk to me.” Haiji finally looks over at him, his profile glowing a little from the light inside, and, god, he’s so beautiful. “You can’t do that to yourself again, Haiji-san. It was scary enough the first time, and we were still living at Aotake, then. If you collapsed again, I might not even find out.”

“Alright, point taken.” Despite the earlier awkwardness, this feels natural. It feels like quiet nights in the Aotake kitchen, listening to Kakeru clumsily chop carrots while the prepared dinner together. It feels like home, almost. “You’re doing a great job, Kakeru. I watched the last two Ekiden highlights, since I couldn’t go watch in person. You’ve become a great leader.”

Kakeru flashes him one of his genuine, tiny smiles. “I learned from the best.”

It’s easier, after that.

Everyone comes to the Aotake demolition party to say goodbye to the building that used to be home, and they split up to help Kakeru and the twins move into their new apartments, and things feel normal, for once.

Kakeru’s new apartment is tiny, but Kakeru, by his own admission, probably won’t spend too much time here in the next year before he graduates, so he’s not too bothered by it. Between his classes, training, and the part time job he’s picked up in the shopping district, he has a busy fourth year ahead of him.

“Years ago,” he tells Haiji when he sees him to the door when his taxi arrives, “you said you wanted to know what running was. Do you remember that?”

“Of course,” Haiji says.

“Come watch Hakone this year. I’ll tell you when it’s over.”

Haiji could say no. Should say no. He has his own team to think about now. But when Kakeru looks at him like that, Haiji would say yes to just about anything.

The next year passes in a blur. Haiji works harder than he ever has before, like he’s making up for having to take the first few practices of the new year off months in advance. The guys’ nights happen with a little less frequency (or, at least, Haiji attends less of them than he used to), but they’re fun when they do happen.

“I finally have a girlfriend!” King says one night, triumphant, and the table explodes into raucous cheers and applause. “Her name’s Noriko, and she’s the second year social studies teacher at my school, and damn, is she cute!” He whips his phone out of his pocket to show them a photo of a woman who is, indeed, damn cute.

“Ugh,” Yuki groans. “Life isn’t fair. How did you get a girlfriend before me?”

“Being a whore might be a factor, there,” Shindo slurs.

Yuki growls when the rest of their friends laugh. “But really, who’s next?” He spins to glare at Nico-chan-senpai, who’s hiding his grin into his beer glass. “Are you gonna pop up with some girlfriend next? Huh?”

“Nah, I’m too old for that shit,” Nico-chan-senpai says, waving the comment off with his usual affable air. “I’ll just be the cool, childless uncle who spoils all your kids rotten.”

“So, that just leaves Kakeru,” Prince muses. “Has anyone heard anything else about that Miyamoto guy the twins were trying to set him up with?”

The mention almost makes Haiji’s blood boil, but before he can rile himself up too much, Musa shakes his head. “Hana-chan told me that he asked Kakeru out, but he turned him down. Apparently, he already has someone he likes.”

Around Haiji, his friends start debating who, exactly, Kakeru likes.

Haiji has an idea, though.

Before he knows it, the Hakone Ekiden has arrived. Haiji arrives at the finish line for the first day before the race starts, a livestream already bookmarked on his phone, and he finds the rest of the original Kansei team there, as well. “Hey!” Yuki says, slapping him on the back. “You made it this year!”

“Well, it is the last time any of the original team will be racing,” Haiji says. “What’s everyone running this year?”

Musa looks at his phone. “Jota is Section 1, Joji is Section 2, and Kakeru is Section 10.”

Haiji blinks. “Not Section 9? Why’d he change up sections?”

“If I had to guess,” Nico-chan-senpai says, “he wants to cross the finish line in his last Ekiden.”

Haiji thinks back to his first and last Ekiden and nods. “That makes sense.”

Kansei ends the first day at fourth place, which is very promising for the return leg. Their fastest runner is at the very end, after all, and Haiji knows damn well how many runners Kakeru can pass if he’s serious about it.

Haiji stares at his phone in his hotel room that night and thinks about calling Kakeru. He knows he shouldn’t. Kakeru needs his sleep if he’s running the last section of the race tomorrow. But then he remembers their conversation on Shindo and Musa’s apartment, and he hits the call button.

Kakeru picks up very quickly. “Hey,” he says, voice soft. “Did you watch today?”

“Yes. Your team is really good. You’ve got a chance of winning tomorrow.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it.”

Haiji laughs. “Since when are you superstitious?”

“It’s my last chance, Haiji-san. I want to go out with a bang.”

“You’ll do great.”

“Will you be waiting for me at the finish line?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Haiji is a nervous wreck for most of the next day. He remembers this anxious feeling from when he was running the Ekiden, but now it’s combined with a feeling of helplessness. There’s nothing he can do but watch, and he hates it. He wants to be running alongside Kakeru, working with him, helping him cross the finish line.

But he can’t.

So he watches.

Kansei keeps doing well. They’re a far cry from the haphazard team Haiji put together all those years ago. These men are trained runners, athletes who have spent their lives preparing for this moment. There are no Princes, no Nico-chan-senpais, no Kings.

They are a group of Kakerus.

Where am I? he wonders as he watches them run. Did Kakeru find someone to take my place? Was there room for someone like me in the team he’s made?

The Kansei runner who runs Section 9 doesn’t beat Kakeru’s record from last year. Haiji can’t help but feel incredibly smug about it.

Haiji limps his way to the finish line as soon as he sees the sash get passed to Kakeru, who’s in first place. First place! “Go on ahead of me,” he tells the others, who try to slow down for him. His knee is on fire, but he’s going to see this through. “I’ll just slow you down.”

“What the hell kinda talk is that?” Nico-chan-senpai asks.

Prince nods and puts a hand on his shoulder. “You and Kakeru didn’t leave us behind, no matter how slow we were. The least we could do is return the favor.”

“We’re the Kansei Ten,” says Jota, since he and Joji joined the rest of their former teammates after their sections. “We finish this the way we started it: together.”

“‘Kansei Ten?’ What kinda name is that?” Yuki scoffs.

Haiji’s heart feels full, and he and his friends, his family, walk to the finish line together.

When they see Kakeru coming around the bend, everyone starts yelling. Haiji can’t help but think about that second track meet, where only half of the guys ran, and how the spectators just went buck wild. This is the same thing, except there are nine people cheering and one person running.

Well, more than nine people cheering. The rest of the current Kansei team has joined them at this point, so their shouting is deafening. Haiji knows there are several cameras trained on them, but he can’t bring himself to care. All he has eyes for is Kakeru, running towards him. Was this how Kakeru felt, all those years ago, when he was in Haiji’s place and Haiji was in his?

There’s my dream, he thinks again. It’s taken form and it’s running.

Kakeru has always been his dream, even if he went over twenty years without knowing it. And now that he knows it, he can’t escape it.

“Kakeru!” he yells, cupping his hands around his mouth to make himself louder. “Last spurt!”

His friends laugh at the phrase and join in in sync, but he’s not paying attention. All he sees is Kakeru, speeding up, making a beeline to him. He knows, logically, that of course Kakeru has gotten faster over the years, because that’s how progress works, but Haiji swears on everything good in this world that he’s never run as fast as he is now.

When Kakeru crosses the finish line (in first place!), Haiji rips the blanket out of the twins’ hands and throws it over Kakeru himself. “You did it!” he gasps, and he’s positive Kakeru can’t hear him over the cheers of the rest of the former and current Kansei team members, but he says it again. “You did it, Kakeru!”

It seems like everyone is trying to touch Kakeru. There are hands on his arms, on the blanket, on his back, in his hair, but Haiji refuses to be dislodged. He has an arm locked around Kakeru’s shoulders and he’s not letting go. Not for anything.

Haiji sees the reporters hovering outside their circle of celebration. He should let Kakeru go talk to them, should let this incredible man get interviewed for the nation to see, but he’s selfish, so he still doesn’t let go.

“And there we have it! Kansei University has won the Hakone Ekiden, led by captain Kurahara Kakeru! There, we can see Kurahara-senshu’s teammates congratulating him, along with the original Kansei University Hakone team. In the center of the celebrations is former captain and current works team coach Kiyose Haiji-senshu. Some of you will remember that Kiyose-senshu had to quit running after his first and last Ekiden four years ago…”

“Kurahara-senshu! How does it feel to have won the Hakone Ekiden?”

“It feels amazing, but, at the end of the day, the times don’t really matter. I got to run with and against extremely talented runners, and that is what I’m most grateful for.”

“Do you plan to continue running when you graduate from university?”

“I’ve had some scouting offers from works teams, but I haven’t committed to anything yet.”

“What do you have to say to young athletes?”

“I want to say that running isn’t about who’s fast and who’s slow. It’s about strength, and everyone has the strength to start. And, no matter what, you’re always running with someone.”

“Thank you for your time, Kurahara-senshu. And, again, congratulations!”

The team and their supporters retreat to a nearby bar to celebrate. Haiji still refuses to leave Kakeru’s side, finding excuses to touch him as often as he can. He’s probably being too obvious, but, then again, next to Shindo and Musa, he’d be surprised if anyone noticed.

King’s and Prince’s girlfriends meet up with them at the bar, too, so everyone gets to meet them. King seems a little suspicious of Yuki when they walk through the door, but he’s a perfect gentleman about the whole thing. “They’re great guys,” he says to Noriko-san and Chihaya-san, Prince’s girlfriend. “I’m proud to call them my friends.”

Everyone stops dead at the surprisingly earnest expression from Yuki, and Nico-chan-senpai pulls him into a noogie, saying, “Damn it, Yuki, why’d you gotta get all sentimental?” and then everyone laughs.

As the night winds on, Haiji finally has had enough, and he tugs on Kakeru’s elbow to pull him away from the noise of the celebrations. They wind up outside the bar, leaning against the building, arms just barely brushing. Haiji knows his knee is going to hate him tomorrow, but for now, he’s just focusing on Kakeru. “You said you’d tell me what running is,” he says, trying for conversational and probably failing.

“It’s you,” says Kakeru, characteristically to the point. “You’ve always been the answer.”

Haiji just stares for a moment. Then, for lack of a better reaction, he tilts his head back and he laughs.

Kakeru, of course, flushes bright red. “W-what?”

“Oh, no, not you,” Haiji says, having doubled over. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear.”

“Sure seems like you are,” Kakeru grumbles.

“I swear,” Haiji repeats. He straightens up, because he knows he has to be serious about this. “It’s just, I thought something similar about you.”

The younger man perks up. “Really?”

Haiji nods. “When I saw you running, that first night, I thought, ‘That’s it. That’s my dream.’” He laughs again, this time, soft. “We’ve both been idiots, haven’t we?”

“I think so,” Kakeru says. He’s breathless, like he just finished running, and Haiji can’t help how he delights in being able to affect him like this. He reaches a hand out, just this side of shy, and tangles his fingers with Haiji’s.

“Hey, Kakeru?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Kakeru pulls his face down in response.

The first meeting of their lips feels like coming home.

“You know,” Kakeru mumbles against his lips when they draw back just enough to breathe, “my lease is up in a month.”

“Move in with me.”

“Yeah.”

And then they kiss again.

“Oh, fuck you guys!” Yuki yells when he pokes his head out the door a few minutes later to see them still kissing.

A month later, Haiji wakes up in his apartment, Kakeru snoring softly into his ear and his leg thrown across his hips, and decides, maybe, it’s not too quiet, after all.

#run with the wind #kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kazetsuyo #kakehai #ao3fic #kurahara kakeru #kiyose haiji #my writing #my post #mine

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rhysismydaddy · 5 years ago

Text

Naughty Neighbors pt. 2 (Elriel)

As promised, it’s in Azriel’s POV which was actually super hard for me to write for some reason. Don’t ask why it’s in first person when Elain’s isn’t. Just go with it I’m so tired.

I LOVED reading the comments on the last post they brought the biggest smile to my face so thank you all so much for the love!

Part 3

______________________________________________________________

~Azriel~

At first, I’d thought it was just attraction.

I mean, it was inevitable. She'd shown up in the middle of the night, dressed in a thin, rose-colored robe that did absolutely nothing to hide the curves underneath, smiling at me like I don’t deserve to be smiled at.

It was obvious I’d be attracted to her.

But it was also different.

Because usually, when I’m attracted to a woman, I go after her and get her out of my system the old fashioned way. But with Elain Archeron... it’s somehow more than that.

Don’t get confused, I’d be more than happy to have her under me. Or on top of me. Or trapped between me and a wall.

But I also crave her smile, her laugh. Her blush.

Fuck, I love that blush.

The woman turns red at any sort of innuendo, like she’s never been flirted with before. At least not properly.

I’m damn near addicted to it.

Which might explain why I’ve developed a routine in the week after moving into my apartment. I get up and get ready, walk with her to work, fight the temptation to go across the street and kiss her stupid, then walk with her home.

It’s only a total of ten minutes together a day, but it's enough to drive me fucking crazy.

Crazy enough to do it over and over again, just like I am right now.

I knock on the door to her shop, keeping my unspoken vow to never go in the flower-infested place.

“Hey,” she says with a grin as she comes down to meet me, locking the glass door behind her. “How was work?”

“Well, a three-hundred pound man got a tattoo of a raccoon on his back. Shit took three hours and was bigger than in real life.” She giggles, and my lips twitch at the sight. “You?”

“I sold a lot of bouquets, since it’s wedding season. Nothing special.”

We start the short walk back to our apartment complex, walking close enough that our arms occasionally brush. The feel of her soft skin on mine has me gritting my teeth, and we’re still four minutes out. Fuck.

Elain shivers slightly, and since it isn’t cold, I take it to mean I’m not the only one affected. I could be a gentleman and let the reaction go, but...

“Are you cold?”

Soft brown eyes meet mine, and there’s a bit of surprise in them. “No.”

“You sure? You shivered.”

Those eyes narrow slightly, well on to the game I’m playing. “I’m sure.”

I can’t stop the smirk from forming on my face, but she just sighs and turns straight forward again.

“Any plans for the weekend?”

I’m practically baiting her into saying she’s doing something with her boyfriend, even though I doubt that’ll be the case. I haven’t so much as seen the guy around the entire week.

If I were him-

No. We’re not going there.

“Not really, actually. I might go to the MOMA.”

It’s easy to picture her in a museum, staring adoringly at overpriced pieces of art a child could probably recreate. “Art fan?”

“Not really. My sister has an exhibit this week and wants me to come. I like her art, but she’s the exception.”

For some reason, this makes me smile. “Nothing’s good enough to impress you?”

Her eyes narrow in the cute way they always do when I tease her, and she says, “Nothing makes me feel anything. Art should make you feel something. Right?”

Is she seriously asking me that? “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a museum.”

Elain stops walking suddenly, and I turn to face her with raised brows. “Ever? You’ve never been to a museum?”

I shake my head, confused as to why she’s confused. Is that not normal?

“What about on school trips?”

Oh.

That explains it.

I turn and keep walking, knowing she’ll catch up in a second. When she does, I say, “Maybe my school was low on field trip funds or something.”

The lie tastes like dirt in my mouth, so I light a cigarette to wash it down.

She rolls her eyes like she knows I’m full of shit and keeps walking.

“You look beautiful today, Elain.”

Her cheeks go pink at the words, and the urge to punch her boyfriend grows. If a woman blushes every single time someone calls her beautiful, she probably doesn’t hear it enough.

And I know I tell her everyday, but it’s especially true today. She’s in one of her probably hundred dresses, and it’s tighter around the waist and loose around the bottom.

I think it was designed just for her.

Or maybe just to drive me insane. Either theory works.

Her hair’s down, framing the soft features I’m disgustingly obsessed with, and there’s a pink tone to her full lips. She looks like a goddamn flower.

I hate flowers, I remind myself helplessly.

We keep walking, and I’m so focused on thinking about anything except the way that pretty little dress swishes around her thighs that I don’t even realize we’re back at the complex.

I open the door for her, and she goes inside but waits before heading up the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

Her cheeks go a bit more red, even as her eyes narrow. “I’m wearing a dress. You go up first.”

“Elain Archeron,” I scold instantly, mood brightening already, “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of trying to look up your dress.”

I probably would’ve, but that’s another point entirely.

She bites her lip, and my blood starts to thrum. “I didn’t say that, actually.”

“Oh, I see. You just want to look at my ass, then.”

A laugh bubbles out of her, and I take mercy and head up the stairs, pausing once every now and then to shake my butt in her face.

“You’re a child,” she laughs, pushing my back to make me go forward again.

I’m laughing, too by the time we make it to the hallway with our apartments. But the joy falls away as we stand outside, both nervously silent. It feels like the end of a date, for some reason.

Maybe because we were laughing and smiling and flirting. Maybe.

“What’s your name?” she asks, exactly like she always does.

Fucking unable to help it, I lean in close enough our noses brush, smiling when she sucks in a breath. “You ready to pay the price?”

Every day it’s the same response. She usually shies away, rolls her eyes, and drops it, but today she surprises me. “What’s the price, exactly?”

Her voice is a little scratchy, and her legs are tense, like she’s pressing them together. For a moment, I can’t even breathe, let alone tell her. She looks so adorably naive and beautiful right now. It’s hard to focus on anything except the heaving of her chest, the lip tucked between her teeth.

Bu it’s the raw desire in her eyes that makes me finally respond. “I want you to give in. I want you to kiss me like I know you’re dying to. I want you to admit that it’s me that turns you on, me who you think about at night.”

Her breathing’s rougher now, and it ignites a fire in my blood. “I want you to tell me you want me, Elain. Because we both know you do.”

“I...”

Fucking hell, she’s going to kill me. I’m desperate to hear the words, so when I speak, it sounds like a plea. “Say it.”

But something comes over her, and the cloudiness sweeps from her eyes instantly. She takes a deep breath and places a palm against my chest to shove me away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have a boyfriend.”

Her favorite thing to say, apparently.

“I love him,” Elain says with strong, fake conviction. “I... I don’t want you.”

A harsh laugh forces itself out of my throat. “Beautiful little liar.”

Her cheeks go pink, and I smile in spite of the tense conversation. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are, but that’s okay. I get it.” Before I can stop myself, I’m moving to tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “But I’m not telling you my name until you stop.”

Before she can respond, the door behind her swings open, revealing a man instantly recognizable as the boyfriend. He’s in a disgustingly cheap suit, about 5′11 with red hair and golden brown eyes with his hair pulled back in a low bun.

I automatically want to punch him for some reason, but I deny myself the satisfaction.

“What’s going on?” he asks, glancing between me and Elain. There’s something in his voice, but it’s not suspicion. It’s surprise. Like he can’t even fathom the idea of seeing her with another man.

Fucking idiot.

A woman like her is always going to get male--and probably female--attention.

“Nothing,” Elain says instantly, taking a step towards him. “This is our neighbor. He moved in Monday.”

“Oh. Hey, man. I’m Lucien.”

I ignore his outstretched hand. “The boyfriend?”

A bit of the friendliness leaves his eyes, and he pulls Elain to him and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “The boyfriend.”

“How exciting,” I mock, sounding like a total prick. I don’t really mean to, but I can’t help it. I mean, this is the guy she’s with? Objectively, I’m man enough to admit he isn’t exactly ugly, but he sounds about as interesting as a can of beans.

He probably works a desk job. Something in finance.

And he has Elain?

It makes no sense.

Lucien The Boyfriend ignores that statement and looks down at Elain. “I missed you this week,” he mutters before pressing a quick, grossly wet kiss to her lips.

The surprise in her eyes makes it clear he’s not usually so... affectionate.

I have to cough to hide a laugh.

He’s trying to mark his territory, but if he actually looked at his girlfriend’s face, he could easily see how stupid it looked.

“Have a nice night, lovebirds,” I say sarcastically as I unlock my door, still chuckling to myself. If he kisses her like that, gods know how he fucks her.

Poor woman.

~Elain~

Well, that was uncomfortable.

And embarrassing.

The little laugh her neighbor had barely attempted to hide made her skin burn. Lucien wasn’t a bad kisser, but neither of them had really been ready for his sudden display of affection.

Plus, it’s not like the man had tried to hide his reason for kissing her. They hardly ever touched in public.

Or at home, really.

It’d been three weeks since they’d slept together, so she knew the kiss was for their audience’s benefit.

She ignored the gross feeling inside her gut and went to the kitchen to start dinner.

“That guy’s rude,” Lucien commented, sliding on a bar stool and loosening his tie. “And he looks like a drug dealer.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost overpowering. He thinks anyone with tattoos is a drug dealer. “He’s nice.”

“So you’ve met before?”

Elain sighed, not knowing how to answer this. “Sort of. He works at the tattoo place across the street, so I bump into him some. I don’t even know his name, though.”

Why was she lying?

I bump into him?

Seriously?

She’d walked with him every day this week. And thought about him all the time.

Not to mention tonight, when she’d been a second away from finally finding out what his mouth felt like against hers, what it tasted like.

Gods, just the thought of that encounter made her sweat.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

And her mind knew, knew, he was dangerous and might very well be involved in all sorts of illegal activities, but her body didn’t give a single shit.

She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone before.

But that was just attraction. What she had with Lucien, that was love. A lifelong, everlasting love. Right?

She slid the plate of reheated chicken and rice in front of her boyfriend and muttered, “I’m going to shower.”

He nodded, not even looking up.

Two hours later, they were watching a movie in bed, neither of them paying much attention to the screen. There had been a tension between them ever since the weird kissing incident.

She wasn’t mad, but it had just made her feel a little strange.

He seemed to notice it, too.

“I love you,” Lucien whispered quietly, rolling on his side to look down at her. “I know things have been weird recently, and I’m sorry. I’m just stressed at work, but I don’t need to bring that home with me. I just... I love you. You know that right?”

She nodded immediately. “I know. It’s okay. I love you, too.”

A small smile on his face, he leaned down to her and kissed her. There was no awkwardness now, thank the gods.

She thought he’d pull away like usual, but he tilted his head and took it deeper, sliding his tongue in her mouth.

Surprised, she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Something in the back of her mind was hatefully muttering that he was only doing this because of their neighbor, but her body didn’t really mind. It had been weeks, and just being touched made her happy.

Supporting himself on his elbows, he came over her, resting in between her thighs. A hand snuck down and tugged her robe open, then she heard his belt buckle open.

Normally she’d want to take things slower and draw it out, but she didn’t mind tonight. Her body needed him and whatever contact it could get.

A few moments of shuffling, then he pressed against her, and she gasped as he immediately started to move. Okay, maybe a little more drawing it out would have been helpful.

Her hips moved with him, trying to keep up with his increasing pace. Lucien grunted in her ear, breath hot on her neck.

It was too much too soon, and he seemed to sense that. His hand came to her breasts, and she moaned softly as he molded one to his touch.

The sound seem to affect him, and he stilled above her, then kissed her deeply.

Elain laid underneath him, heart racing, and tried not to raise an eyebrow. Or laugh. Or cry.

That was it? The first time they had sex in almost a month, and that was it?

He pulled out slowly, kissed her brow, and rolled over. Her mouth dropped open.

He wasn’t even going to make sure she finished? Because she sure as hell hadn’t. And more than that, he rolled away from her?

They didn’t always have great sex, but it was usually better than that. And he always held her afterward until she fell asleep.

She felt cheap. Used.

Definitely unsatisfied.

Now more than ever, it felt like they were fifty years old. She made him dinners and kept the apartment clean, he worked a desk job at an investment bank, they came home, barely talked, then had unremarkable sex.

She’d known for a while they were in a slump, but now it seemed like it was a permanent thing.

After waiting until he started snoring soundly, she slipped a hand between her legs, trying to relieve some of the tension.

Gods, that had been awful.

Maybe it was her fault. Maybe it was because she was so worked up from...

Her neighbor’s smirking face popped into her mind. The ache between her legs got worse, and she moaned as she slipped a finger inside herself.

Sitting up suddenly, she pushed his face out of her head. This was wrong.

She couldn’t... fantasize about another man while in the same bed as her boyfriend.

Elain threw her robe on the ground and walked to the shower, ignoring the fact that she’d already taken one tonight. She’d wash this night away and forget about it.

But he appeared in her mind again, shaking his head with a smile. That’s not possible, beautiful.

Hard to forget someone when they were mentally stalking you.

The next morning, Lucien was gone before she even dragged herself out of bed. She was technically late, but she didn’t even care. Perk of being her own boss.

Elain trudged around, getting ready slowly. It had been a long night. Even after her very cold shower, she hadn’t been able to clear her mind and relax.

When she opened the door, she couldn’t repress her groan. Apparently, his face was stalking him in her head and real life.

“Long night?” he asked, a small, almost victorious smile on his face.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at that expression. She knew him well enough to know he was trying not to laugh. “Yes.”

“Same. Noisy neighbors.”

It took a few moments, but a furious blush exploded on her face as she realized what he was talking about. She knew the walls were thin, but... “Oh, my gods.”

He’d heard!

Oh, gods.

This was really, really bad.

“Have fun?”

She glared at his annoyingly handsome face, barely resisting the urge to punch that smile away. “Yes. So much fun.”

She was, in fact, a dirty little liar.

“Mmhm, sounded like it. All three minutes of it.”

An indignant sound escaped her, and he started to laugh. She ignored how lovely the sound was and chanted, “Shut up shut up shut up.”

“Not a chance.” He glanced down at her legs. “Hey, do you need help waking there? Or are you too sore from all that terrible se-”

She slapped a hand over his mouth, and he smiled under her fingers.

“You’re such an asshole,” she told him. “I love him. And he’s a great lover.”

The asshole just raised an eyebrow.

“Usually,” she amended. “He was tired.”

Gently, he pried her hand off his face. “I could be in a coma and do better than three minutes.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal. And beyond disturbing.”

He smiled. “We going to work?”

Elain glared. “Only if you promise not to make any more comments about my sex life.”

“I haven’t made a single one!” He protested, still smirking. “I’ve been joking about the lack of your sex life, baby girl. Keep up.”

“Oh my gods,” she growled, pushing past him and yanking her door shut.

“At first, I didn’t even know what you guys were doing,” he told her, walking easily beside her as she stormed down the stairs and started down the empty sidewalk. “I heard his weird ass grunt and thought he was working out or something.”

She rolled her eyes.

“But then I heard you moan, and I-”

“I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“Anyway, I heard the boyfriend start snoring, so I figured the debacle was over. But I heard you again.” He smirked down at her. “Wanna tell me what you were doing over there?”

From the look on his face, he knew damn well what she was doing. “You-”

“No, I know you weren’t doing me. Would’ve been a lot louder if you were.”

Her glare could’ve frozen the Sahara. “I was going to say that you are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

The man just smiled, more than happy with himself today. Gods, he was insufferable. “I might be annoying, but at least I last longer than your little boyfriend.”

The way he said that made her jaw clench. What was it with the men in her life being completely useless today? It pissed her off. “Oh, I seriously doubt it.”

A dark, almost promising look crept into his hazel eyes, and he leaned down to murmur, “I promise you one thing, Elain. If I had you under me, I wouldn’t stop until you were screaming my name. Maybe not even then.”

She didn’t bother pointing out she didn’t even know his name.

Then he pulled away and smiled, and she noticed they were in front of her store. “Have a nice day, gorgeous.”

She was so fucked.

_____________________________________________________________

To all my Lucien stands, I don’t really believe he’s complete shit in the sack (yes, yes I do), but I’m trying to write a story here, okay?

Part 3

@astreia-oniria @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @wineywitch202 @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @bamchickawowow @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @poisonous00

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #azriel #elain #elain archeron #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #bat boys #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #illyrians

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