#wouldn’t that be so much easier and less humiliating for everyone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mylifesjustacarousel · 2 months ago

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bridget’s sister

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: being bridget’s sister, everyone has their preconceived notions about you, but they couldn’t be more wrong. what happens when the shy princess and the arrogant pirate get paired up for an assignment?

type: fluff

CW: none

WC: 4.7k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | requests are open! sorry for the long wait! <3 (not proofread!)

You were Bridget’s younger sister, only a year apart. Most people hate when they live in the shadow of their older siblings, but you felt that, that was far from the truth for you. You were very shy and kept to yourself, so you relished being in the shadow of your older sister. It kept the attention off of you. Not that there was ever much on you, though. You and Bridget weren’t exactly the most popular people ever. But, you both had Ella.

The three of you were sat in Bridget’s room, you on Bridget’s bed while the two girls were baking. “How was school today, y/n? Anything fun happen?” Bridget asked. She sort of acted as a mother figure for you ever since you had arrived at Merlin Academy. Being on your own was hard, but having your older sister around, and her best friend, made it a bit easier. You had a hard time making friends of your own, even back in Wonderland you didn’t have very many friends. But, you liked it that way. It made life less complicated.

“It was okay.” You shrugged. “Alchemy was pretty fun, but we got our first partnered assignment today.” She looked over at you, a puzzled look on her face. “Why is that bad? You love Alchemy!”

“I do, but uh, it’s my partner that’s really the issue.” you mumbled the last bit, your cheeks turning a bright pink. Ella giggled, popping the cupcakes that they had made into the oven. “Uh oh, does somebody have a crush on their partner? Who is it?” she asked. You just blushed more, grabbing one of Bridget’s pillows and burying your face in it. “I can’t say, it’s awful!” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pillow.

Bridget sat down next to you, gently running her hand along your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. But, maybe we can help you out.”

“James Hook.” you said, your face still buried into the pillow. Ella raised a brow. “Who? We can’t hear you when you have a face full of pillow.” You groaned, sitting up as you mustered up the courage to even say his name.

“Hook. James Hook. He’s my partner.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Him? He’s bad news, y/n. Not to mention, he hates us.” You flopped back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow again. “I know! It’s terrible!”

“You can’t help who you like,” Bridget said, “What makes you like him?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, tossing the pillow across the room. “I know he’s mean, and I know he’s cold hearted. But, when I see him, it’s like my heart is riding a rollercoaster that’s going faster than the speed of light. He’s just so… him.”

“Maybe he could use someone to help warm up his little dead heart.” Ella shrugged. Bridget gently hit her arm, giving her a playful glare. “Ooh! Could I set up a date for you two? I just got a new cookbook, I could make you some desserts to bring!”

You sat up once more, quickly shaking your head. “No, you cannot get involved in this. It’s just a silly little crush, it’ll go away… I hope. There will be no dates, and there will be no desserts. If there’s one thing I’m not doing, it’s absolutely humiliating myself.”

“Well… why don’t you bring him a cupcake tomorrow?” Bridget asked.

“I am not putting a love spell on him, B.”

“Fine!”

You sat in your seat, your palms practically an ocean with how much they were sweating. The rest of the students were filing into the classroom, and you were silently praying that Hook wouldn’t even bother to show up today. But your prayers were quickly squashed when the brunette pirate sat next to you with a huff. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, you couldn’t even look at him or else your heart would actually explode.

“Alright, class! Get with your partners and start on the assignment. I suggest you work with each other outside of class as well for the presentation portion of the project.” Merlin announced before going to his desk.

“Um, are you ready?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and assignment guidelines. “I didn’t bring any of that stuff.” He gestured to all of the books you had pulled out. “Oh! Um, well here!” You set a few pieces of paper and a pencil in front of him.

You stood up, pulling out the ingredients for the potion you were making. Hook stood next to you, his arm brushing against your shoulder. “I’m not really sure how to do… any of this. I can’t say I really care for this class.” he said.

“Okay! Well, I actually really really like this class, so don’t even worry about it,” you rambled on, “I will do most of it, just focus on taking notes.”

Hook watched you carefully as you poured ingredients into the cauldron. Well, he couldn’t care less about the assignment, he was mostly focused on you. The concentrated look on your face, the way your mouth moved silently when you were talking to yourself. He thought you were a little strange, but quite charming.

You felt his eyes on you, and it took everything in you to not look over at him. It’s just a silly little crush… or maybe a silly big crush. The two of you had never really spoken before you got partnered up, but you would see him walking around the school. His gorgeous smile, and the way he carried himself with confidence… arrogance, really. You knew that you should despise him, but you couldn’t help yourself. There had to be more than what he showed on the surface.

“Can you hand me the griffin claw?” you asked in your usual mousy tone. Hook snapped out of his trance, looking around. “Hmm? Oh, there it is.” He picked up the griffin claw, handing it over to you. You quietly thanked him, stirring up the potion.

Merlin kept a close eye on the two of you. He knew how Hook was, and that was why he partnered him up with you. He watched as you did all of the work as Hook sat there, the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on almost completely blank. He got up, going over to you two.

“I see that you two are almost done. That’s quite impressive. But, in order for you both to get credit during the presentation, you both need to do the work.” Merlin looked towards you. “I highly recommend that you two get together after school for a tutoring session. Maybe you could get Mr. Hook to actually pass this class.”

Hook sneered, picking up the pencil and jotting down unreadable notes. He had absolutely terrible handwriting. “I mean it, James.” Merlin said, walking back to his desk.

“I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” you mumbled. “It’s fine. So… your place or mine?” he asked.

Your eyes widened and your head turned to look in his direction. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did I stutter, darling? Where are we meeting up later?”

Your heart melted at the pet name. How could someone be so awful, but so perfect at the same time?

Before your brain could even process the question, your mouth was already moving. “My place, come around six. Bring a notebook.” You tore off a piece of one of the papers that you gave him, writing down your dorm building and room number for him.

Oh, god. What did I just do? you thought.

“You what?!” Ella exclaimed, a look of absolute shock on her face.

“I invited Hook over to my room to study, and now I’m really freaking out!” You were pacing back and forth, your hands running through your own hair. “I don’t even know why I did that! My mouth started moving before my brain could even think! Oh god, this is going to end terribly! Should I cancel? I should cancel!”

“No, don’t cancel!” Bridget went over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “It’s clear that this is something that you want, y/n. You can’t stop love. You can repress it, but you can’t stop it. So don’t cancel. Just… be careful. Uli’s friends can be a little…”

“Mean. They can be mean and vicious.” Ella finished her sentence. “We’ll be here. If he tries anything, you know where to find us.”

“Oh, I feel like I’m gonna yak. Do I look okay? Please tell me I look okay!” you whined, straightening out your clothes. Bridget smiled, brushing your hair out of your face. “You look as beautiful as always. It’s going to be fine. You two will study and then he’ll leave. Why don’t you take a cupcake for the road? They’re strawberry shortcake, a new recipe.”

You sighed, looking over at the tray of freshly baked cupcakes. “What if this doesn’t go well? I can’t have the rest of the VKs after me, I literally will not survive.” Bridget cupped your cheeks. “You’re an amazing girl, you can do anything. It’s just studying, it’s not like it’s a date… even though I really want to plan one for you. I’m serious, I have a whole list of ideas.”

“It’s not happening, Bridg.”

“It could. You never knowwww!” she said in a singsong. You playfully rolled your eyes, picking two cupcakes up off of one of the many golden platters. “Okay, I’m going. If this doesn’t end well, at least I get a cupcake to eat.”

“Good luck! Make sure you swing by after to tell us how it went.” Bridget fixed your hair once more before leading you to the door. “Go get him!”

You pulled out your textbooks and cauldron, getting everything organized for Hook’s arrival. You seemed calm and collected on the outside, but it was like a million alarms were going off inside your head.

He doesn’t feel that way about you, he doesn’t even know you. It’s just a tutoring session.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock on the door. Oh god, he’s here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, deeming yourself presentable before opening the door. “Hi , James. Um, come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Hook strolled in, his eyes darting around your room as he looked at all of your decor. “It’s very girly in here.” he commented as he sat down on your bed. “Um… thank you?” you replied, “So, I thought we could start with some reading and then you could practice working on the potion… or anything.”

Picking up one of the textbooks, you sat down next to him. Well, as close as you could get to him without feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust. You opened up the book to the page that explained the potion that the two of you were working on. “Um, it’s a pretty simple potion. One of the easier ones, actually.”

Hook scooted closer to you, reading the text over your shoulder. You could feel his breath hitting your cheek from how close he was. Not to mention, he smelled surprisingly incredible. “Okay, so, uh…” you mumbled. Your brain was completely short circuiting.

“Are you… alright?” he asked. You quickly snapped out of it, standing up and going over to your desk that you had set the cauldron up on. “Yup, never better!” You nervously giggled. “Just… take a look around while I finish setting up? I find hands on learning is a lot more effective.” He nodded and got up, quietly wandering around your room. His eyes landed on the tray of cupcakes that was on your nightstand. “Cupcakes? Do you bake?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh no, not me. Those are, uh, from my sister. She’s the baker.” you explained, “You can try one, if you want! Or not, whatever you want!” Hook laughed to himself, picking up one of the cupcakes.

Oh god, even his laugh is gorgeous.

“Is your sister the cupcake girl? The one with the pink hair?” he asked, his mouth full of cupcake. You froze, looking over at him. It wasn’t a secret in the slightest, but the VKs hated Bridget.

“Um… yes.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, “You’re not anything like her. Wouldn’t have guessed if it wasn’t for the cupcake.” You pulled the rest of the ingredients out, trying to hide your face as it turned the shade of a tomato. “Um, is that a problem or something? Because if that’s a problem then I don’t think this is going to work.”

Hook shook his head quickly. “No, no! Just… making an observation. You don’t have to be so skittish all the time, I’m not gonna hurt you.” You quickly relaxed. “Okay, you’re right… Let’s just get to work.”

He went over to you, looking over all of the ingredients on the table. “You just have all of this stuff? Are you like a witch or something?” he teased. “Definitely not a witch. I don’t know, I just really like alchemy. It’s kind of like baking, but instead of desserts you can turn someone into a frog. Not that I ever have, though.”

“Seems like you really know your stuff. Well, show me how it’s done, princess. You’re probably my only hope of passing this class.”

“Okay… do you even know anything about alchemy?” you asked.

Hook shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue, lass.”

You sighed, opening your book back up. “Okay! It’s a super simple potion, you could probably do it with your eyes closed. It’s a rejuvenation spell. It makes things younger, or like new. You’re going to practice on…” You looked around your room before spotting a vase of dead flowers. You picked them up, bring them over to the table. “These. They’re well past their expiration date.”

He looked at the book, mumbling the ingredients list to himself as he picked up the labeled jars and started pouring ingredients in. You carefully watched him, reaching out and grabbing his hand when he almost put an incorrect ingredient in. “No! No, not that one. That one will make it go kaboom.”

Hook’s eyes glanced down at your hand, how it was so much smaller and daintier than his. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and setting the jar down. “Thanks. We definitely don’t want that.” You picked up the correct jar, handing it to him. “This one, but only a tiny amount. A little goes a long way.”

He poured it in as you grabbed the griffin claw. “Here, use this to stir it. Stir it slowly, if you stir it too fast you could completely ruin the potion.” you said. Hook nodded, taking the griffin claw from you. “Well, why don’t you help me? Just so I don’t ruin it, y’know?”

“Oh! Um, okay!” You wrapped your hand around his, your body pressed against his side as you helped him stir it. “Just like this, okay?”

“Just like that.” he mumbled, his body leaning into yours. You two stood there for a solid minute, just stirring the potion in silence. It was weird and strange, but something about it felt right. Once the potion turned a bright purple, you pulled away. “Okay! Um, here. We’ll pour it into here.” You pulled out a small spritzer bottle, opening it up. Hook helped you pour the potion into the bottle and you closed it up, handing it to him.

“Just spritz it on the flowers, like you’re watering plants.” you explained, putting the vase of wilted flowers in front of him. “If I spritz it on myself will I turn into, like, a baby or something?” he asked.

“Do not do that. Just water the flowers, James.”

He giggled, spritzing the flowers with the potion. Within seconds, the once dead flowers had practically sprung to life. Hook grinned, picking up one of the flowers and examining it. “These look incredible. Here, for you.” He extended his arm, offering the flower to you. “For being a great teacher.” You blushed, taking the flower from him. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, James. Didn’t think you had that kind of side to you.”

“I’m full of surprises, Ms. Wonderland. Like, for instance… I can juggle, or at least I used to be able to. I could juggle.” You set the flower back into the vase. “I’m sorry if this comes off the wrong way, but why’re you being so… nice?”

Hook scoffed, but you could tell that it was in more of a playful way. “I’m mean, not heartless. You’re helping me pass this class, and I appreciate it.”

“Well… I’m always here to help.” You started to clean up the ingredients on your desk. Hook sat on your bed, watching you. “Why’re you so shy? I mean, you and your sister are so… different.”

You shrugged. “I’ve always been this way. It was hard making friends back home, I never really felt like I fit in. So, I just… shut everyone out. Can’t have a hard time making friends if you stop trying. It’s been a little easier since coming here, but I just prefer keeping to myself, y’know? Makes everything less complicated.”

“I see. Well, I know that you already think about me in a certain way. But, I would like to think that we’re friends of some sort.”

“Your friends would hate me, James. I appreciate it, but I think that that’s a bad idea.” you sighed, finishing putting the rest of the jars away. “Um, you can go, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around.”

Hook stayed where he was. “No, I think I’ll stay here. We’re friends, now whether you want us to be or not. So, come here, let’s talk.”

You hesitated before sitting down next to him. “We have nothing in common. You’re doing this just to prove some sort of point.” He took your hand in his. “I know that I have a very bad track record, and I know that I’m not exactly the greatest person. But, I think you’re nice. You’re nice, even when you definitely shouldn’t be.”

Your heart felt like it was running a marathon in that moment. Your hand felt so tiny and fragile in his. The coldness of the rings on his fingers brought you back to reality. “It’s getting late, James, curfew is gonna start soon.” You got up, going over to the door. “I will see you in class on Thursday, don’t forget what I taught you.”

He got up, making his way over to you. “Thank you for being a great teacher. I’ll see you around.” he said, winking at you before walking out. You shut the door behind him, sinking to the floor. If anything, your crush had gotten worse. You waited a few minutes to make sure Hook was gone before getting up and racing to Bridget’s room.

“Okay, okay! How’d it go?” Bridget asked, leading you to her bed to sit down. “There are no tears, so that’s a very good sign.” You groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “It was awful, B! He was so nice and he said that we’re friends!”

Ella and Bridget looked at each other with pure confusion. “I don’t think you know what awful means.” Ella said. You sat up, “I wanted my crush to be gone! But, he held my hand and he gave me a flower! A flower!” you exclaimed.

“It sounds like he has a little bit of a crush too.” Bridget pointed out. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“And risk getting rejected and humiliated? Yeah, I think I’ll pass. It’s just a stupid crush, it will go away.” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your fists. Bridget rubbed your back. “You can’t just will your feelings away. I think that you should talk to him about it.”

“I…” you trailed off. “I will think about it. But, I just don’t think I can do that to myself. I can’t be hurt like that.” Bridget pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on the top of your head. “You’re an amazing girl, as well as the best little sister I could possibly ask for. If he doesn’t think that you’re amazing, then he isn’t worth it. Okay? You’re great, and I want you to find someone who makes you feel that way.”

“You always know what to say, even if I don’t want you to say it.” Bridget giggled, pulling away to look at you. “I know. It’s my job as a big sister. Now, go get some sleep. You have class early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, getting up. “Fine, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ella!” You gave them both a wave before leaving, heading back to your dorm.

It was the next day, and you were more or less avoiding Hook. Not that you didn’t appreciate your time together, but you could not look him in the eyes without feeling like your legs were about to turn to jello. You were sat at one of the many tables outside, quietly eating your lunch. From an outsiders perspective, you probably looked sad and lonely. But, you enjoyed the peace and quiet.

“Hey, lass! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Hook sat down next to you, making you almost jump out of your skin. “You scared me, Hook! Give a girl a warning!” you exclaimed. He giggled, leaning against you. “Sorry, sorry. So, how are you?”

“I’m… good?” You still didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you. Surely it had to be a part of some evil plan or something. The VKs aren’t nice to anyone. “Okay, what’s going on here? First the flower, now you’re seeking me out? Is this like a sick little mind game?”

Hook’s expression was one of hurt, but he quickly shook it off. “That’s not it at all. Ya know, I was very, how do you say… open minded about you. So why can’t you do the same?” You frowned, feeling a pit of nervousness in your stomach. “I… James, you have to understand where I’m coming from. You, um, don’t have the greatest reputation.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to show you that I’m more than that. I’m not going to lie and say that what you hear isn’t who I am, but I do have feelings.” he sighed. You sat there for a moment, just staring at him. “Okay, James. You gave me a chance, I’m going to give you one. But, just so you know, I do know how to turn you into a frog.” You hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him. “It’s hard for me to open up to people, but if you’re going to put in the effort then I’ll do the same.”

He grinned, his eyes quickly flickering up and down as he checked you out. He didn’t even know who you were before you two got partnered up, but the night before made something click in his brain. You were shy and reserved, but when you opened up you were charming and sweet. It was a total change from the girls he usually sought, but it felt right. You were a change, a good change.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!” you giggled, nudging his arm. “If you’re gonna look at me like that, at least take me out first.” Hook shrugged, accepting your challenge. “Okay. Meet me at the lake tonight around seven. Bring a towel, don’t be late.” He got up, patting your arm before walking off. You sat there, your jaw dropped as you watched him walk away.

What just happened?

The Enchanted Lake was a pretty popular hangout spot where students went to swim and lounge on those especially hot days. You were sat on one of the many rocks, waiting for James to arrive. Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You had never been on a date before, or on anything date adjacent. Was this even a date? As the minutes passed by, your mind started racing as well. He must’ve stood you up, that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“You okay, darling?”

You turned around, seeing Hook standing behind you. He was wearing a basic black t-shirt and maroon swim trunks, very different from his usual wardrobe. He looked cute. “Yeah, um, I’m fine!” You got up, going over to him. “It’s nice out tonight. Wanna go for a swim?” he asked. “Is that not why we’re here, Hook?” you replied.

He set his towel down, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it near the towel. You blushed, your eyes darting to look anywhere else. “You’re acting like I’m streaking, princess. Don’t be so shy.” He sat down on the ledge of the rock before pushing himself into the water. “Come on, it’s nice in here!”

You groaned, putting your towel down next to his before joining him. You started to shiver as the cold water touched your skin. “It is not nice, James! My legs are freezing!” you complained, wrapping your arms around yourself to maintain warmth. He swam over to you. “What’s your definition of freezing, darling?”

“This!” you exclaimed, your teeth chattering. He stood up, wrapping his arms around you. You completely froze in your spot. Hook was hugging you. His bare skin was touching yours. Your legs? Jello. Your heart? Rocketed out of your chest. “There, now you should be nice and warm.”

“Mhm.” you mumbled. It was like someone had doused the circuit board in your brain with a gallon of water. “Is this okay? I can let go.” he said, starting to pull his arms away. “No!” you exclaimed, your face bright red. “No, it’s okay.” He grinned, his hand resting on your waist.

The two of you stayed like that for a bit, your head moving to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” you admitted, looking up at him. He looked puzzled. “I’ve, uh, never been on any sort of date before. I’m sorry if I’m being really awkward, I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hook reached his hand up, brushing your hair out of your face. “That doesn’t matter to me. I’m having fun. But you know what would make this even more fun?” he asked. “Going to the kitchen and making hot chocolate?” you responded hopefully. He pulled away from you, his hook resting against your back and his hand scooping your legs up. “What’re you doing, James?!” you giggled, holding onto him. He gave you a countdown from three before throwing you into the water.

When you came up to the surface, Hook swam over to you, barely able to breathe from how much he was laughing. You rolled your eyes, splashing water at his face. “Oh, come on, princess! Let loose and have some fun!” He stood up, taking your hand and pulling you closer so your chests were pressed together. “You’re a jerk, James!”

“You don’t mean that.” he teased, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, I do.” you replied, your body language saying otherwise as you completely melted into his touch. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, as if he was silently asking for permission. You took a deep breath, your thoughts finally calming for the first time that night.

Screw it.

You grabbed his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, his hand running through your wet hair. His lips were soft and warm, and it was clear that he definitely had experience in the kissing department. He was one of the school’s biggest flirts, after all.

You pulled away from the kiss after what felt like centuries. “I’m sorry if that was bad, I’m new to all of this-”

“Shh, I’ve gotcha.” he whispered, his hand still lingering in your hair. “I know we don’t exactly have a lot in common. But, I would like to get to know you better. If that’s what you want.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would like that a lot. Meet me in my dorm after class tomorrow? We could, um, watch a movie or something?”

“I would love that, princess.”

a/n: … part 2? 👀

#_emily’s writing_#descendants #descendants the rise of red #the rise of red #descendants x reader #descendants the rise of red x reader #the rise of red x reader #james hook #james hook x reader #young hook #young hook x reader #young james hook x reader

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fandom-go-round · 3 months ago

Note

Would it be possible to request dating headcanons with Caenis and Mordred separately both SFW and NSFW

Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Humiliation Kink, Dirty Talk, Semi-Public Sex, Praise Kink, Bondage, Implied Dom/Sub Relationship

Caenis:

Caenis is a hard person to love, not because he doesn’t care for you but he’s not good at expressing himself. Most wouldn’t assume that you’re together; he’s just as harsh with you as he is with everyone else. Not overly harsh, and the longer you’re together the kinder he gets. He’s not big on public displays of affection, words or otherwise. The best you’re going to get is a slap on the back or a shoulder squeeze.

He has a jealous streak a mild wide. Caenis assumes people know the two of you are together, even if he’s never said anything out loud. There’s going to be a messy reveal when someone flirts with you in front of him and he tries to kill them. The entire base is shocked by the news, for the most part. There are some people who suspected; bets were made but don’t ask. Caenis will hunt them down if he hears anything about it.

He loves telling you what to do, bossing you around and being sarcastic. His tongue is still sharp inside the bedroom, calling you pathetic and weak as you beg for him to fuck you. Caenis is huge into humiliation and it’ll be difficult to navigate sex if you aren’t a little into it. He’ll be gentler if you need him to be, mixing more paise into his words. You’re never going to be able to escape the dirty talk, just help shape it into what you like.

After everyone knows about you Caenis likes to kiss you breathless around corners, getting you all flustered before someone catches you. He never really wants to fuck you in front of someone but he’ll tease you about it, getting you halfway there before leaving you. He always feels desperate for you, craving you and he wants you to feel mad with the same kind of want. His favorite look is when you’re breathing hard, grinding against his leg desperately, mouth halfway open. It can be hard to control himself but he makes good on his promise later; hopefully no one comes by your quarters for a meeting.

Mordred:

Mordred is less intense than Caenis but that doesn’t mean that things will be easier. He’s more concerned about that other people think, especially his father. It can lead to moments where he’s cold to you in public or pushes you away; it’s worse in the beginning when he’s still figuring out how to be in a relationship. Make sure to tell him when he upsets you and what you want; Mordred cares for you and will self-reflect, even if he’s swearing the whole time.

He gets jealous very easily and with all sorts of people. Mordred wants to be the center of your attention when the two of you are together. He’ll show off as much as he can for you. He loves it when you give him little gifts; tokens of affection aren’t anything he’s gotten before, from his parents or from being a knight. It makes him feel you take him seriously and he always acts smug after you give him something.

Mordred wants to watch you fall apart as often as possible. He has a high sex drive, especially after missions or after he gets into a fight. He focuses a lot more on your pleasure than his own; he gets tunnel vision when it comes to sex and sometimes forgets that you can help each other out at the same time. He wants you to be desperate for him, head buried between your legs and eyes locked on your face.

He likes it when you take control and boss him around. Mordred can easily overpower you but he has a praise kink you can exploit. He’s the perfect brat; he’ll complain about everything but scrambles to do what you ask so fast you hardly see him move. His favorite thing is be tied down as you ride him, praise spilling from your lips. He almost cums from just your voice, arms straining not to break the rope. The minute you give him permission he’s going to fuck you into the mattress so hard you see stars.

#fate imagine #fgo imagine #mordred x reader #caenis x reader #fgo caenis #fgo mordred #mordred imagine #mordred pendragon #caenis imagine

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captaincryolicious · 2 years ago

Text

Dating your grumpy neighbor

➳ scaramouche x gn!reader

➳ bulleted fic + drabbles, 4.7k

➳ cw. fluff, enemies to lovers, modern au, scara being mean, light swearing, a bit of humor, pretty rushed at the end.

when you get closer to the grumpy male who lives next door [12.11.2022]

[part one] your grumpy neighbor

content under the cut | masterlist

You had absolutely no idea what to expect from your very first date with the grumpy male who lived next door. Heck, you weren’t even expecting to be here at all, since you had been joking – albeit a bit wistful – when you suggested resorting to dating each other. It was all in good humor, until Scaramouche suddenly agreed. That wasn’t exactly part of the plan, and with a very interesting mix of feelings you sat at a table inside the little cafe on the corner of the street.

Mixed feelings as in, screaming internally because his permanent scowl was somehow very attractive so now you had a date with a very attractive male, while you also wanted to get up and run away and pretend this all never happened.

And then there was the fear that it was all a massive joke, that he only played along to piss you off and that you would sit here for an hour before realizing he would never show up. If that were to happen, how would you be able to face him ever again? He was your neighbor after all; avoiding him after such humiliation would be impossible. A dozen worries flooded your mind and had you deep in thought, so much that you almost jumped in your seat when the small bell above the door chimed happily.

You looked up, eyes widening when you saw no one less than Scaramouche glancing around the cafe in search of you. Filled with disbelief, you raised your hand to make his search a little easier, but you were barely comprehending what was happening. Your grumpy neighbor, who seemed to despise you, actually showed up for your date? Scaramouche found you at your table, and you gazed at him in mild awe as he approached you.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he said flatly, hanging his coat over the backrest of the chair opposite of you. “Should I feel offended?”

“Well, you look like you personally hate me, so yes, I’m quite surprised you show up on a date,” you reasoned.

“I personally hate everyone so you’re not all that special,” came the short reply as he sat down. “Look, you asked me on a date and I agreed. Now I’m here. Get over it, or I’m leaving.”

“Gee, always so mean,” you muttered. “Maybe some food will cheer you up.”

You shoved the menu that lay in the middle of the table towards him, urging him to take it.

“Do you really think I’m that easily swayed by food?” Scaramouche asked in disbelief, but he still took the menu and flipped it open.

For a moment there was only silence as he skimmed through what the cafe had to offer, and you waited patiently since you had made your choice long before he had arrived – courtesy of arriving way too early. In your head, you tried to make up a plan to make this date go a little smoother, but it was to no avail. Your mind was empty, and suddenly the outcome of this date looked pretty grim. He’d still personally hate you after today, you still wouldn’t talk when you ran into each other, absolutely zero progress. What a waste.

“I’ve already eaten so I’ll stick to a black coffee,” the male opposite of you decided, closing the menu and putting it back onto the table.

“Then I’ll take a Latte,” you stated. You weren’t at all hungry, for you were way too nervous.

“I didn’t ask,” Scaramouche said.

You opened your mouth, ready to make a snarky remark about him sharing his order as well, but you saw a certain glint in his eyes and decided not to fall for his trap. God, you had no idea if you were able to save this date if it kept going like this. Your social skills weren’t refined enough to deal with an ass like Scaramouche. Why on Earth had you asked him out? You mentally cursed his stupid pretty face.

As a waitress finally approached your table to pierce through the awkward silence that fell over you, you both ordered your coffee and you felt dreadful when she walked away again. At least Scaramouche’s violet gaze wasn’t solely on you when the waitress stood next to your table, which was pretty refreshing. For some reason, the male was always observing you, as if he had a question and you had the answer somewhere on your being. Maybe you never explicitly noticed until now, but when he sat opposite of you it became pretty obvious. It made you shift uneasily in your seat, just as much as it reddened your cheeks just a little.

“I have a question, Y/N,” Scaramouche began, and you cringed at the venom he spoke your name with.

“Go ahead,” you muttered, not expecting anything nice, to be fair.

“Why did you ask me on a date?” came the question.

You froze in your movements, just a little but probably enough for the male to notice. Now that was something you should’ve expected. He was probably well aware that his demeanor didn’t necessarily scream ‘dateable’ and he had to be wondering why you asked him out. Good grief, you had no idea either. Okay, that was a lie, you kind of did but you weren’t going to tell him the truth. What were you supposed to tell him?

“Because you’re my neighbor, I want to get to know you better,” you used as an excuse, leaning back into your seat to appear confident in your answer. No way you were going to tell him about how he intrigued you. You weren’t sure what kind of reaction that was going to elicit.

“Hm,” the male hummed, narrowing his eyes at you. “Are you sure that’s it?”

He was seeing right through you, wasn’t he? Now wasn’t the time to panic, you had to keep up your guard, prevent his violet gaze from seeing straight into your soul because you had to keep the truth from him at all costs. You fought to force an easy smile, now resting your arms on the table to face him with feigned confidence.

“Pretty damn sure,” you told him, thanking your voice for not betraying you. “Now, can I ask a question as well?”

“You’d do it regardless whether I say yes or no,” Scaramouche pointed out.

“Goodness, you know me so well already,” you said with fake surprise, pressing a hand to your chest to exaggerate the gesture even more. “Well, Scara, I was just wondering why you agreed to go on a date with me.”

The male cringed at the nickname, but decided not to comment on it. Instead he leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table as he pretty much mimicked your previous position. His expression was unreadable, like it always was.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ugh, this was going nowhere. You resisted the urge to heave out a frustrated sigh, for that would probably give the male opposite of you a sense of satisfaction. He seemed to gain pleasure from pissing off others with his attitude, after all. You had to keep your cool. The fact that the waitress returned with your coffee made it a little easier. Now you had something else to focus on, something to keep yourself busy with. Your beloved Latte, there to save the day.

“Look at you, drinking the devil’s soul,” you joked, pointing at this black coffee.

He gave you a dead look as he took a sip, but said nothing in return. Of course he didn’t laugh at your joke. You’d be very surprised if he had given any sort of pleasant reaction to it. Ignoring it at all and deadass taking a sip really sounded like a Scaramouche thing to do. Maybe this date was fulfilling its purpose, after all. You were learning quite a bit about him, but they only confirmed your suspicions of him being an absolute ass. But there had to be something underneath that layer, right? That was what you were waiting for. To see a glimpse of the real him, since you refused to believe that the rude facade was real. There had to be more to him.

“Anyway, we came here with a purpose, remember?” you began after a while of silence. This was going to be your last attempt to make something useful out of it. For today, at least. Though you weren’t too sure if you could get him to go on a date with you again. Probably not. “We had to get to know each other better, Scaramouche, so tell me about yourself.”

“So persistent,” he muttered under his breath, putting down his paper cup of coffee. “There’s not much to tell. I’m Scaramouche, the rest is none of your business. Well, if you ever get me to like you, you can call me Kunikuzushi, but I doubt you’ll ever get that far.”

Though his answer was disheartening, you saw the challenge in his eyes. A bright shimmer against dark violet, one that made you wonder a lot of things. Did he want you to get that far? You were afraid to simply assume so, nor were you going to blatantly ask him about it, but what else could the glint in his eyes mean? You hoped you didn’t misinterpret it, that would make you a massive fool. It was a shot in the dark, but you wanted to take it.

Challenge accepted, Scaramouche, you thought to yourself.

“Why are you still lingering around me when I’m a total ass to you?” the male suddenly asked you, eyeing you intently.

It was the first time he spoke on his own accord, without you having to force it out of him. A genuine question, one that quite surprised you. So he noticed, huh? Well, you guessed it was quite obvious how you refused to leave him alone. Maybe it wasn’t weird that he seemed to see right through you. Your efforts might’ve been a little too much to get away with a simple ‘you’re my neighbor’.

“That’s a good question,” you uttered.

“You’re interesting, Y/N,” he spoke slowly.

With that, he put down his cup again, and it sounded pretty empty against the wooden surface of the table. He got up swiftly, taking his coat and flashing you a look that you – again – couldn’t quite decipher.

“Remember what I said? Your idea, your treat.”

Oh, yeah, you remembered, but you struggled to process the flow of events because your brain was stuck processing something else. You’re interesting, Y/N, he just told you, which could mean a lot of things. It could be good and it could be bad, it could be both and it could be neither. What did he mean? What about you was it that he found interesting?

Scaramouche stood for a moment, watching your inner debate with narrowed eyes. He was scrutinizing you, drinking in your every reaction to what he just said. You felt small under his gaze, as if he was unraveling your secrets. But then he turned around and left, the little bell above the door telling you that you were alone again. You sat back in your chair, letting out a breath that seemed to come from the very bottom of your lungs.

What a peculiar first date it was.

Okay, the first date was pretty much a disaster.

Like, he literally left as soon as he finished his coffee.

And not only that, the date itself was bumpy and wobbly, full of glares and pretty mean remarks and not only that, it hadn’t served its purpose at all. You learned nothing new about him, aside from what you assumed was his real name? and he didn’t even bother to ask anything about you. Was he really that disinterested? But if he was, why did he bother to show up in the first place? That was another question that had remained unanswered.

If anything, this date only left you with more frustrations, and you spent the evening complaining to your friend, Kazuha.

Well, at least your Latte was good.

And he told you his real name. Why did he even tell you that, if you weren’t allowed to use it? You had to be right about the challenge thing, it had to mean that he wanted something from you, and you were dying to figure out what exactly.

Scaramouche wasn’t a nice guy on the surface, and you started to wonder if you’d ever be able to break through that facade. Probably not, you figured, but there was a part of you that was willing to try, even though Kazuha was quite skeptical about it.

Well, until you hesitantly told him that he called you interesting and that you got away with calling him Scara.

That was so out of character for Scaramouche, that even the always so realistic Kazuha knew something had to be up. He told you to go for it, but even together you had no idea how exactly to go for it. Scaramouche was an individual with a manual.

You could use a Scaramouche 101.

Okay, you kind of expected that nothing would change after that first date. After all, it went terrible, and you didn’t feel like you had gotten closer in any way. But still, some things seemed to have changed a little, much to your surprise.

It started off very small; he didn’t really ignore you any longer when you spotted him in the hallways of your apartment building. His violet gaze would acknowledge you, albeit still cold and inhospitable and paired with his signature scowl.

Then it evolved into a curt nod.

And then it was suddenly a grumpy “hi, Y/N,” with a face that said “don’t you dare greet me back.”

Well, you were too surprised to greet back, anyway.

Kazuha would definitely swat your arm with a very knowing look.

Progress, guys! Progress!

It went on like that for a while, Scaramouche greeting you in the hallways and after the second time you manage to greet him back with a smile, despite the very uninviting grimace on his features. You noticed how you were getting used to his unwelcoming demeanor, and eventually you were starting to learn to look past it.

Would you ever get him to smile back at you? You doubted it, but mentally put it on your list of goals.

Get Scaramouche to allow you to call him Kunikuzushi.

Get Scaramouche to smile back.

Yeah, that was mission impossible.

Until it suddenly didn’t seem all that impossible anymore?

Because wow, he reached out first!

“Y/N,” you heard a gruff voice call out behind you.

Of course you knew that voice all too well, it belonged to your grumpy neighbor, the enigma you tried so hard to figure out. You spun around, and you found him leaning against the off-white wall next to the door of his apartment. His violet gaze was solely on you, a hint of confusion written within.

“What’s up?” you asked, curiously.

“You haven’t been bothering me recently,” he pointed out. “Why?”

You looked at him, astounded. Was what bothering him? Now it was you who narrowed their eyes at him, trying to figure out what was going on inside his mind as he gazed at you. Of course you failed, for he was so hard to read, but you would keep trying until you figured him out some day.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” you remarked.

“Is it, though?” he muttered.

He gave you a troubled look, and for once you could see through the windows of his eyes. There was conflict and confusion, as if he was at war with himself and his inner thoughts. You had to stop a smile from growing on your lips. You weren’t stupid. Did he miss the way you always tried to reach out to him whenever you saw him? Was he maybe drawn to you as much as you were to him? It was as if you had an eureka moment. You had him figured out, at least for a tiny little bit.

After that, he went into his apartment without saying a word, and you were left to wonder what that brief encounter had been about. Surely, that meant something, right? You came back to your very first theory, that he had to be lonely if the other residents avoided him. Had he started to appreciate your stubborn presence?

Because of that, you took the liberty to knock on his door the next day, hoping that he was home.

Well, he was, and the look of surprise on his face when he opened the door was so different from his usual scowl that it almost made you laugh.

“Hello, Scara. Can I invite myself in?” you asked casually. Of course you were still nervous around the male, but if he missed the way you were bothering him, you would gladly bother him again.

“What do you want?” he growled.

“You missed me so much, didn’t you?” you chimed.

Much to your surprise, he actually stepped aside to let you in.

Just like your first date, it wasn’t at all eventful. He offered you a drink and you ended up drinking soda in his living room in front of the muted TV. You felt a little more at ease around him this time, mostly because of your recent revelation, and you did most of the talking while he studied his feet and replied with the occasional hums or brief answers.

Something about his demeanor had shifted since the last time you spoke to him. He was less of an asshole and more of your typical introvert. He barely made any mean remarks, only a few because Scaramouche was still Scaramouche. But they lost their impact, they didn’t feel like assaults directed at you anymore. He let you call him Scara as much as you wanted to, and though he didn’t say much, it seemed that he was listening to everything you had to say.

Was this really the same person?

After your visit to his apartment, you ended up visiting each other a lot more often. Sometimes he showed up in front of your apartment, asking if he could come in. Mostly it was you visiting his apartment, though, and after a while it became a habit to gravitate towards his apartment rather than towards your own when you got back from work or school or whatever you did during the day.

He really had gotten milder over time, and it no longer felt as if he personally hated you. If any, the way he acted gave away that he actually appreciated your company. You realized it on that very day he called you out for not bothering him anymore and now that you hung around each other basically every day, your feelings were confirmed.

It wasn’t long before the other residents caught on as well, mostly because Kazuha subtly pointed it out to them. As much as he was doubtful in the beginning, now he was your biggest hypeman, though he still couldn’t believe that Scaramouche actually showed you another side of him that no one else had ever witnessed.

For a while, things stayed like this. You enjoyed it, and Scara did too, but he wouldn’t tell you that just yet. As you hang out with him so regularly, your feelings for him grow stronger to a point where you could call it a big fat crush and unbeknownst to you, that also went for the violet-haired male.

But come on, it was pretty obvious. Even you realized so on that very day he confessed to you.

After hanging out at each other’s apartment for weeks, you were quite surprised when Scaramouche asked you to meet him outside of the apartment complex. That was something that didn’t happen before, and your curiosity was picked. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t put in a little more effort into your looks before you headed out, and you wondered why. He always saw you in sweats and a hoodie when you hung out at his or your apartment, what was the point of suddenly dressing up? But you did so regardless. Well, he probably wouldn’t notice, anyway?

Oh, you were wrong.

“You look… nice,” Scaramouche gruffly admitted as soon as he came to a halt next to you. He eyed you up and down, and you playfully made a twirl – after all, it was still your objective to bring a smile to his face at some point. Sadly, your little twirl didn’t do the job. Instead, it had him looking away, but you weren’t sure if he was flustered or simply disinterested already.

“Thanks, Scara,” you grinned. “You do, too.”

But that was needless to say, because Scaramouche always looked good. On the inside, you did a little happy dance. He noticed! He actually noticed the way you dressed up a little! Your efforts weren’t in vain!

“I didn’t do anything special, but thanks,” the male replied. “You actually put in some effort, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?” you replied, stating it more as a question than anything else because you weren’t ready to blatantly admit it to the very person you dressed up for. “What did you want to meet up for?”

Scaramouche hesitated, his violet gaze straying away from you as he took in his surroundings instead. It looked like he had to convince himself to look at you again, and it took him a moment to do so. This wasn’t anything like the male you saw when you first met him, but over the past few weeks you had gotten quite used to this side of him. In all honesty, you found it adorable.

“I can either take you on a walk or do it right now right here,” he stated briskly.

“Do what?” you questioned, but the way your heartbeat picked up gave away the fact that you unconsciously had an idea of where this was going. Or was it the way he looked at you that gave away his intentions? Regardless, your mouth went a little dry as you gazed back at him, full of expectations.

“Are you dumb? Ask you out, of course.”

He made a face, as if he actually believed you were stupid at that very moment. But with your mind going absolutely blank, you actually felt silly for a while. You weren’t utterly oblivious, you knew this was to come at some point sooner or later, but now that Scaramouche had actually spoken the words, they hit you like a truck. A blush crept up your cheeks and your attempts to keep your cool were feeble.

“I-I prefer a walk first,” you brought out hastily.

“Forget it, I basically already asked you,” Scaramouche snorted. “Just give me an answer.”

“Well, you didn’t necessarily ask me, you know?” you teased him, regaining a little of your composure.

The male rolled his eyes at you, and for a moment you felt bad for making this even harder for him. But on the other hand, if someone was going to ask you out, it had to be done properly. Were you just being nitpicky? It made sense, right? Everyone wanted to be asked out in a memorable way. At least a little.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “How dramatic do you want it?”

“Go all out,” you joked, wanting more of that blush that crept up his cheeks.

“No way,” Scaramouche countered, frowning at you. “I’m not into romantic stuff at all.”

“Then just do it in a way you’re okay with,” you shrugged. You were happy as long as it was Scaramouche who was asking you out.

“Here goes,” the violet-haired male muttered, taking a breath and stepping forward. He stood opposite of you and took your hands in his, his eyes searching yours and locking them in his gaze. “Y/N, would you go out with me?’

You almost cheered when you said yes. Who would have thought that things would turn out this way, ever since you met your menace of a neighbor all those weeks ago? You surely wouldn’t have expected to grow so fond of him, nor would you have said that he would open up to you like that. Yet, here was, asking you out with the most adorable blush on his cheeks. You two were official now, though you couldn’t quite believe it. It was such a bumpy road to get there, and it was so weird to realize that you’ve made it.

“Hey, Scara,” you beamed at him. “Does this mean I get to call you Kunikuzushi now?”

“I guess?” he muttered. “I kinda did tell you that you could call me that if I liked you enough.”

“And do you like me enough?” you pried.

Scaramouche looked at you, and your heart swelled when you saw the very faint beginning of a smile growing on his lips.

“Yeah, I like you a lot.”

“Aww,” you cooed, filled to the brim with utter happiness. “I like you a lot too, Kuni.”

“Hey, I didn’t give permission for that,” the male growled.

You offered him a pout, jutting out your lower lip in order to persuade him. He frowned at you darkly, but he managed to do so for three seconds before he gave in with a sigh.

“Fine, Y/N,” he said. “Why do you get away with everything?”

“Because you find me cute,” you reasoned with a grin.

Scaramouche – or Kunikuzushi – only rolled with his eyes.

You saw a whole new side of Scaramouche after you started dating. He wasn’t all that much of a meanie anymore, only when he was struggling with his feelings he would come off rather cold and harsh sometimes but it wasn’t long before you grew to understand that part of him.

Your relationship was a secret at first, only Kazuha knew.

Also, after getting together, Scaramouche and Kazuha also became somewhat friends which made you very happy because your boyfriend admitted that he was indeed feeling lonely sometimes.

You also notice the loneliness he had to deal with for so long, because he sought your company so often and he spent a loot of time with you. You still hung out at each other’s apartment often, now sitting very close to each other as you watch TV together – mostly in silence, though, since Scara simply wasn’t that much of a talker.

Hear me out, you had to learn him how to cuddle since he wasn’t used to that at all. While he was quite stiff in the beginning, he soon learned to completely melt against you on the couch and it was the cutest thing ever!

Same with kisses, but it was okay since he was a good kisser once he got the hang of it maybe a bit rough.

He wasn’t into PDA at all – only when he caught someone else looking at you – so most of the affection will remain between the walls of your apartments. But he always insisted on holding your hand, even in public. It was to show others that you were his, since he could be quite possessive sometimes.

The snarky remarks remained the same, but it was all a part of who he was and he wouldn’t be Scaramouche if he suddenly started acting like a 100% nice guy. You grew pretty quick-witted as well, and you often found yourself bickering sharply – to others it would probably look like you were fighting but it wasn’t all that bad.

His compliments were hidden in shady remarks that were gruffly spoken but he often gives you those hidden praise.

Maybe he wasn’t too cuddly and too keen on giving big, dramatic compliments, his love language was more quiet and subtle, such as little notes in your pockets you’d find after a date, your favorite snack or drink in the fridge after he visited your apartment, or other subtle things that let you know he thought of you.

Because yes he thinks of you the entire day.

You fought the loneliness in his life, after all. You filled a big hole and he is grateful for that.

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lya-dustin · 1 year ago

Text

Shock and Delight

Chapter 8

No warnings i think

It has come to my attention that Princess Helaena’s intimate supper yielded less than stellar results.

While the rest of the guests showed that Blacks and Greens can coexist peacefully as long as food and drink are involved, Princess Aemma and Prince Aemond could not seem to set aside their differences for the sake of Princess Helaena.

Why do they dislike each other so may seem obvious, but could this be just two youths confusing hatred for something else?

After all love and hate are horns on the same goat.

---the Morning Scandal

It does not take much to convince Lyonel to double down on his pursuit of Aemma. With the High Septon here to administer Viserys’ last rites and crown her son with a falsified will, a special marriage license is easily procured.

They could marry as soon as tomorrow if need be. And what better setting for a proposal than the ball later this week?

“You must do all you can to secure her hand, cousin.” The queen had advised before sending him on his way.

“I will not fail you, cousin, her rejection is just for show. Princess Aemma will be Lady Hightower before my stepmother’s ball ends.” Lyonel smiles smarmily. He had that trait from his mother’s family. Lickspittles and doing everything to climb their way to the top.

Not that they could help it, the late Lady Hightower had been a Peake.

Criston doesn’t like what her advice implies. He doesn’t speak of it, but his eyes think this is too far.

And because Alicent has those same fears she invites an opinion she will push down her throat with sweet rose drink. She has curbed her drinking, she no longer needed wine to handle the burden of being Viserys’ wife and queen now that he was bedridden.

There was time she relapsed into the old habit, especially as her husband’s health worsened and her father fought her for control as if she were a stranger and not his flesh and blood.

Once Aemma and her dragon were in Oldtown, it would be easier to take the crown. Rhaenyra wouldn’t challenge the truth of the will when her daughter’s life hangs on the balance. Alicent knows this because no mother could.

“He is not a man I would trust with a young lady; you know as well as I that the rumors about him are true, your grace.” The knight speaks after she orders him to speak his mind.

It wasn’t as if Aemma would be in real danger, Lyonel is a lord from a good and faithful family, there is no reason to be apprehensive about this.

“He wouldn’t harm her, besides there are worse fates than a loveless marriage and a philandering husband.” With any luck she will seek comfort in someone else’s arms like her mother and show why Aegon is the only right way.

“If you say so, your grace.” He says keeping his disagreement but letting the matter die. Criston wouldn’t go against her; he was loyal to her enough to disregard his vows.

They do their best to avoid each other after.

Even if they coincided in walks or flights, they kept their distance and only spoke when they had to. They hate each other, everyone can see that.

This morning both had lied and said they had other matters to attend to when they both came with their respective siblings.

Aemond had glared and rolled his eye when Aemma had teased him about something he was sensitive about. Had she been anyone else, he would’ve humiliated her.

Rhaena and the Morning Scandal thinks they’ll end the season married to each other. They made a handsome couple, perfectly Valyrian with great dragons and both bookish to boot.

If only they didn’t hate each other.

“I don’t see it.” Daeron admits as he tries to see what Rhaena scribbles in her diary. They sit under the weirwood tree with her little dragon playing in the branches of the great old tree.

They had become friends over the week and Daeron had yet to find someone who understood him like Rhaena did. Not that anyone knows besides their most trusted siblings knew of this unlikely friendship, mother would die of the horror and grandsire would kill him for being so chummy with Daemon’s middle daughter.

“From what you’ve told me of your brother and what I told you about my sister, its just a matter of time before they realize they only dislike each other out of stubbornness.” Rhaena said matter of fact, as if she’d seen it all before even if she is only six moons older than him. She does love novels and songs and mummeries though, maybe she thinks their elder siblings were like Jonquil and Florian.

“Is that why you are keeping the notes from Ser Corwyn a secret from your family, Rhae?” he asks once he reaches for the page sticking out of her journal only for her to shut the book once his fingers get within reach.

“That is not for you to know.” She answered looking down at her lap, irritated at his interference and thinking Ser Corwyn Corbray was the Warrior in the flesh.

“He is older than you, almost Cousin Lyonel’s age.” He argues the point he had to agree with Prince Daemon and Rhaenyra on that. A bit hypocritical of them considering the age difference, but a perfectly good reason to reject his offers of courtship.

Besides he was a second son and the Vale was no place for a dragon. Save for his looks and skill, Ser Corwyn was just unsuitable.

“Are you jealous of him?” She looks back up at him, and he scoffs.

Daeron was not jealous, that was ridiculous. He was a prince of House Targaryen, rider of Tessarion and soon a knight like his Uncle Gwayne. Rhaena was his cousin and friend, she was pretty and witty and good company, but she was just his friend.

It was as unlikely as Aemond marrying Aemma.

It is after he is cornered by Lady Elenda and Cassandra after going with his mother to the sept, that he thinks he should court Elissa for the season and use her to repeal the vultures over his head.

Elissa was an obvious choice, given her status as his elder siblings’ paramour and good looks, but something told him he may be blamed for her sudden illness this morning.

Jena, his former lover, was happily married to Jasper Wylde now and Aemond couldn’t exactly parade Alys Rivers, his mother’s new handmaiden, about.

Especially now that they’ve grown uncomfortably close, the bastard Strong and his mother he means.

“You are quite a sight in the air, your highness. I dare say you are the most accomplished dragon rider in our generation.” Another lady, a reach lady going by her attire, fawns over him the moment he returns to the Dragonpit.

He cannot reply with a lukewarm thank you as he shrugs away from her grasping hands when Aemma, who took Silverwing to stretch her wings in the opposite direction, scoffed at her unoriginal words.

She’d tried to escape Lyonel who came to see her only to find him waiting here with flowers with his sister and her companions. Companions that included Fiona? No, Fiona was Elissa’s elder sister, what was her name?

Anyways, Lady F-something glued herself to Aemond’s side viewed the Pearl of Dragonstone as a contender for his attention and Aemond dismissed the idea that came to his head.

No, Aemma was the last woman to consider tor that. There was no way she’d agree even if the sight of them together would get his mother tossing every man available at her to drive them apart.

“Please, Princess Aemma is clearly the superior rider, Lady Falia.” Lyonel said providing him with a name and another reason Aemma could agree to his scheme.

If Aemond were to be in direct competition with him, he’d leave her alone.

But it’s folly, Aemma wouldn’t agree to it.

“You flatter me, my lord.” The princess tries to hide her disgust for him in her manners and tries to remove herself from his company as quickly as she can.

“Oh yes, her riding is well I suppose, but to do so without a side saddle seems far too much for me.” Falia did her best to not appear rude and yet insinuate at rumors saying Aemma takes after her mother in more ways than one.

“Quite impossible to ride a dragon with a side saddle, Lady Falla. My niece would’ve fallen into the Blackwater in that last trick she did if she hadn’t been riding astride.” Aemond comes to her defense only so he can dash Falia’s hopes by calling her by the wrong name.

“Yes, Lady Falia, my dear uncle is right. There is no side saddle for dragons, not that I care for one on horses much either way.” Aemma admits and Lyonel perks up at this as if he had gotten an idea.

Aemond knows exactly what this grubby fucker will do tomorrow night. Lyonel intends to compromise her and claim to have taken her virtue.

Aemond supposed he’d have to hide a dagger in his boot at the ball.

She never had to lie about what she wore but after having Lyonel get tipped off about her wearing her red riding clothes yesterday, Aemma’s wardrobe was now handled as if it was a council secret.

Had Aemond not been there, there wouldn’t have been any way to escape his incessant talking.

He had praised her accomplishments, her riding, her red riding jacket and even the tightness of her two braids.

Aemond had then mocked him by saying Lyonel would then compliment Aemma’s teeth as if she were a mare he sought to buy.

So, to even the scales, she had shut up the sickeningly sweet Falia ---or was it Anna, she couldn’t remember--- with a jab at her station and a reminder that she fainted during her presentation.

Perhaps Aemma’s initial assessment of him was a tad wrong. Perhaps he was not always the insufferable arrogant twat from dinner and maybe, even had a sense of humor after all.

She should apologize for her rude words, the princess considered but dismissed the thought. There wouldn’t be a chance to do so and perhaps he doesn’t actually care about it, Aemond didn’t look like the most forgiving of people.

Perhaps if her dance card runs empty and Lyonel requests more than one dance, she would work in an apology of sorts while they dance.

He was a good dancer, as light on his feet as he was with a sword, Aemma found herself leaving a space for his name on her dancing card.

Maybe they could be friends, who knows?

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #ocappreciationtag #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #hotd #shock and delight fic #bridgerton!au #daeron targaryen x rhaena targaryen #alys x alicent

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miss0atae · 1 year ago

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The Jungle - 10th Episode Review

We are in episode 10 and I had just as much fun today as I had yesterday.

So we first get again this little spinet of wildlife documentary where we learn that flamingos are a symbol of love because they are honest, loyal and faithful with their mate. Wow it's not very promising for you Florence because you are the flamingo of this series. It's going to be hard to make Nathee become your mate. Back to Pine who almost saw Hack with Irin but Hunter came to save the day. He had to clean the restroom. What is this excuse?! Hack and Irin of course stop kissing when they hear them talking. She leaves first and Hunter saw her. She gives him bullshit excuse to explain why she is here but that’s not necessary because he knows the truth! Hunter is the master of this place so nothing gets past him. Hack is not happy because of his meddling. Again Hunter is being the therapist of everyone here.

In the next scene we are at Nathee’s workplace and he is still sleeping. If he was going less to the RV and sleeps more maybe he wouldn’t need have a nap! Florence don't understand him and we neither can. So we also learn that she does really work in this company. She is not only the daughter of the owner. Cool! She create an excuse for Nathee to talk to her at work. He is an IT support worker at the company. She is not subtle checking him out while he has to repair her computer. She is also aggressively flirting with him. Long stares and everything. He definitely knows what she wants. Omg she thought he would do what? He is just going to plug her computer back. Sis you're dreaming! She must get laid quickly xD. I really like her character. She is confident and knows what she wants. It is refreshing.

Irin is with her sister. I forgot that HHack's real name is Tul. I'll keep calling him Hack because it's easier. Well, Baby Sister has a meeting with him. Remember he was her law professor. Why is Irin telling her sister to avoid Hack? He wouldn't be stupid enough to flirt with his students. That would be a very dumb move for any person who is teaching. He may be a playboy but he is supposed to know what to do. Plus he clearly said he wanted Irin... Not her sister. Irin doesn't know what she wants. Take some notes from your friend Florence.

At the next scene we are in the RV where Florence is talking to Irin and Hunter, complaining that Hunter/Nathee is being picky and not seduced by her. Poor Florence she can’t get him. Again we learn that he hates rich people. We knew that already. Why should she be punished for being born rich? She is also working. When Irin asks her why she wants him so badly we get a new flashback from her schooldays. One thing I noticed is that the teachers are so mean to them for no reasons. Florence arrived late in class and the teacher shamed her in front of everyone. This is really crazy because they are teenagers. What the teacher is doing is just going to create insecurities. So because she has a driver she can't be late? This is dumb reasoning. They may get piano lessons in this universe at school but the teachers don't learn to be empathetic. Sorry it really annoys me. Florence has period cramps and that's why she was late. The teacher is a woman she should know better (and even if it was a man, he should know too). In addition, she forgot her book. Nathee saw everything and gave her his, preventing her from another humiliation and basically it explains why she felt for him. However, now she just wanst him for sex. She explains that she had a crush on him and that it should make the sex better. Irin says she could love him more after and she is not wrong but I’m not sure Florence really thought about that. Hunter, still being here, gives her the magic drink again. I don’t know why he calls it this way, does it have aphrodisiac in it? At the same time, Nathee is punishing a bad guy again and Florence is loving it. She really has it hard for him.

She goes to find him and he still rejects her. She is so extra. She wanted several nights with him at first but she is willing to settle for just one night. This girl is so funny! I love her. He has trouble following her because he wasn't expecting that. While they are talking the bad guy is trying to escape. Hunter weren't you next to him two minutes ago? Where did you go? Nathee really doesn't want to be with her. The bad guy escapes and runs after Florence but she is not another damsel in distress and she saved herself. She has moves. She knows how to defend herself. My favorite girl among all the group. Yes I'm raving about her but truly I love this actress and her character. She is just disappointed that she ruined her skirt by saving herself Nathee asks her how she could do what she did and it’s because she did some judo. She really wants him. She is so funny. They should have introduced her before because she makes the show much more entertaining. Hunter is also having fun in the back watching them. We learn that Nathee’s mom died of cancer and of course our sweet girl is compassionate. They have a deep conversation about money and goals in life but he rejects her ideas just because she has money. She is so much better than him... He clearly doesn't deserve her. She tries again to have a one night with him but faced another rejection before he leave.

In the next scene we find again Irin’s baby sister still crushing after her teacher... Basically her sister’ lover too. Don't fancy your teacher! Seriously it's not worth it. He helps her after she strained her ankle and of course Irin caught them at this moment. It’s goind to be a repeated action trhough this episode. Irin and Hack have their misunderstanding number 10000 and they even get Naam as a witness their umpteenth argument. Hack is disappointed about her reaction and the sister saw them. The sisters are in Irin’s car and they are talking about Hack. Irin wants to prevent them to get closer but I think it’s a lost cause.

We leave them to find the Jungle again with only Nathee, Phethai, Naanfah and Hack. Naannam is not here because he is with his girlfriend and Pine is again nowhere to be found. Hack complains about those with girlfriend but it only shows that he is freaking jealous. He would also prefer to be with a girlfriend. Stop pretending you don't! Nathee suddenly stops walking and everyone can see that Florence is sitting at their place. This girl! She is so proactive. He is so down with her. At the same time Naannam saw a girl trying to come in and It's Irin's baby sister. I already can’t stand her anymore. She is getting on my nerves. But anyway we don’t care about those two because we get back to poor Florence. She chose the only one who doesn't want her. She introduce herself to the rest of the group. Everyone feels the tension between her and Nathee. My baby Naanfah is the only one who tries something. They all suggests to play a game. Hack propose a strip bottle game but Nathee is not ready for that. They finally settle for Truth of dare which is not better. Florence is bold. The bottle stops in front of Nathee and she doesn't shy away and asks him what she has to do to have him. Naanfah tries again to help but it's not working with Florence. Since Nathee refuse to answer she asks him to take one piece of his clothes off. Again Naanfah has the best reaction. Nathee takes off his jacket and again she stares hungrily at him.

Can we skip all the scenes between Irin and any character who is not Florence? Because they are so boring. Even Pladao and her idiocy wasn't boring me that much. Pine came to see her and she thought at first that it was Hack. The atmosphere is always so depressing when these two are in the same room. I read somewhere on Tumblr that Off played the boyfriend with all the actresses who are in this series in others shows. I found that funny. Sigh! Their conversation is so boring. They don't even feel like good friends. Girl need a real therapist. Go find Hunter he is doing it as a side job. Back to the funny place where Nathee is losing most of his clothes because the bottle lands on him all the time and he apparently gets the same dare each time. The others have fun. This time, the bottle lands on Florence and she chose to get a dare. Hack dares her to kiss Nathee for one min. It's not a dare! She freaking loves this idea. Nathee is not really thrilled. But… What happened Why did she faint? It was just starting to get interesting. This show never delivers. The boys are panicking. Hack received a text message to go to the jungle room and Irin is there waiting for him. She is drunk and wants to have sex with him but he doesn't want. She hasn't forgotten Pine and wants him to help her. Babt sister witnesses them with Naannam. How to break the heart of two people, a book written by Irin.

In the next scene Florence is at work not feeling well but she received a ginger tea from Nathee. Sweet! He arrives at the meeting and they just exchange glances instead of working. Florence is trying to defend the IT idea in front of her father. Nathee is flirting with her in front of her father, isn’t it? Am I imagining things? Florence’s father is stupid enough not to invest in something reasonable and Nathee is disappointed because Florence hasn't pushed more the idea. Again the father is treating her daughter like a child. This man can't be successful at business with this mentality. He is still pushing his daughter to go to his matchmaking meeting. By the way, Nathee and Florence are really flirting.

We also get a small scene between Irin and her baby sister when where she just gives her the cold shoulder. No one care so back to the real couple of this episode. Nathee and Florence are talking again. She explains she can't choose what she wants and she understands in some ways that her father acts this way because he loves her. His love is a bit toxic if you ask me. Nathee asks her why did she go to RV and she answers that she wants new experiences. Nathee thinks she is not happy with her current life. He gave her the password for tonight but she said she can't come. He is a bit manipulative with her because she explains her reasons for not coming but he knows she also wants him. I have one question, why is Naam helping the little sister? Don't you have a girlfriend to take care of? He is becomming the most annoying between the twins. I called him Nice Naam before but I totally changed my mind. His new name is Annoying Naam now. At least he doesn"t support her idea. He just opens the door for her.

Florence is getting bored at her date. She is not into this guy. Why can't he sees it? Besides he is a parasite of the society who thinks money solve everything. Clearly he is not meant for her. The father can't choose them. He should give up. She leaves to go to the RV. Hack sees the little sister and he is shocked. Coincidence, my foot. You knew! Okay baby sister is rebelling because she wants to bang her teacher. He doesn't want you! Hack is clearly uncomfortable. Obviously there would be no drama if Irin didn’t come. It is going to be crazy. She thinks Hack has booked the room for her and him but he is already in it with Baby sister who wants to get a piece of him. Even though he is not interested, she doesn't give a shit. Baby sister is dumb! He said no! Don't you understand the concept of consent? Of course Irin sees them and she is clearly annoyed. She doesn't listen to Hack because yes she has a bad opinion of him and prefers to imagine the worst instead of listening to him. At the bar, Naannam and Nathee are talking about Irin and Hack because they both know but they don't reveal their names and Phethai is between them clearly not following. Florence also is here and wants the room to have a sexy time with Nathee.

In another place in the bar, Baby sister and Irin have a fight about Hack. Baby sister is clearly the jealous one but is trying to manipulate Irin by making her thinks she is the one jealous of her. I don't like Baby sister. Irin is upset and her first answer to everything is slapping the other one. It's her secret signature move. Baby sister is so ungrateful for everything. I can't.

Finally the series end with Hack and Pine on the roof and Hack just reveals to Pine that he slept with Irin. What is going to happen? The answer in the next episode, next week. I saw the preview and I don't understand why Phethai was fighting with Nathee? But on the other hand, Naanam is saying the real truth of this entire series: the Jungle has to much secrets and it’s so weird that they are supposed to be friends! I also feel like Pine is becoming a side character at this point.

#thai series #gmmtv series #the jungle the series #my review #My favorite characters are Naanfah and Florence at this point

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anthonybialy · 1 year ago

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Joining a Side

It’s time to fill ourselves with hope that we can change everything. Is that a lot? Let’s dismantle the invasive unjustified reigning contraption. Call it the patriarchy so woke types will help. America’s royal family is only pretending they possess the authority to tell others how to live. Genuinely hideous results are merely the start of issues. Allegedly free people are bothered for the crime of existing. Forget being successful unless you’d like to be punished for working.

Everyone in the booth technically chooses one side. But it’d be nice to not merely be rooting against the other option. We’ve coped with too many humiliations to list them all, which is an inadvertently successful tactic.

Voting for something would offer a dose of positivity. I feel nauseous, too. But maybe it’s nice to maintain a creed. There might be just enough sweetness to upset the stomach. The candy hangover is a worthwhile side effect.

A lack of commands would be a pleasant break from the last couple of unfortunate decades to see policies at work. The problem is there aren’t any. Government is to life as TikTok is to attention spans. The only useful federal work involves removing barriers that previous office-filling stooges dropped where they please. The world will merely be less dumb without needless hurdles placed in our lanes by capricious officials.

Everyone enjoys destruction. The problem with Democrats is how they do so with useful structures. Wouldn’t they prefer watching YouTube clips of professional demolition like every normal person? The inability to create anything useful must be why pushy liberals loathe the private sector so much, as they think everyone else only harms useful things as well. The only thing worse than uselessness is projecting it on the useful.

Chant like a mantra that learning positivity is possible. It would be nice to actually support a thing even if just to see how it feels. This is as optimistic as I get. I’ll maintain cynical balance by using the notion to rail against interdiction. There are so few chances to be supportive when the default setting is to mandate erstwhile free people participate in deleterious nonsense.

Advocacy takes the form of not wanting to get ripped off by authorities. Revolutionaries merely call for obeying the Constitution, which sort of should be a job requirement. Actual rules are preferable as opposed to the current system which is based upon selecting whoever is the pushiest bully.

Tearing down artifices is particularly gleeful if that policy involves removing terrible dolts from positions where they can infiltrate autonomy. True individuals simply come out in favor of not needing to advocate anything further. Americans who tire of a loving president making a different grocery item unobtainable every week can surely get behind being left alone. Or perhaps you’d prefer having your natural gas stove banned since you can’t afford an omelette’s ingredients, anyway.

It’s officially radical to be in favor of not being bothered. It’s easier to eschew an activity, which should appeal to politicians who run for office precisely so they can slack off. The only field where members work more feverishly to steal is the mafia, and it’s way tougher to break into that field.

Americans are given a hard time by the softest managers. Our representatives love telling us what we can’t do. It’s not like constant hectoring produces remarkable results from the harried.

A drill instructor turning shiftless recruits into a lean fighting unit is the only time federal bossing works. You may have noticed we don’t have a draft anymore. By contrast, the commander-in-chief thinks he’s entitled to order those who have no interest in being recruited. The nation ends up with less upper-body strength than before basic training begins. It’s no wonder he thinks fleeing wars wins them.

Hiring someone for a government job then snarling any time the trainee attempts a task only seems negative. Stopping hassling is the only reasonable political goal here in these advanced times. Adding a quasi-legal sheen shows a lack of commitment. Have the decency to not even feign constitutional justification. Admitting they think the law is whatever they decide is good would feel purer. There would be no different effect, meaning the country would be as unproductive as it is indebted.

You don’t have to be that much of an anarchist to support a mild reduction in intervention. Shrinking-government enthusiasts are not railing against the system but rather how the setup has been manipulated to make the ruled believe there’s no option other than enduring commands about every last thing.

Demanding respect for natural rights is the new subversion. Opposition to frightful irritation is inspirational in its way. Absence of pain will have to suffice.

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keefwho · 2 years ago

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April 26 - 2023

8:17 AM

Okay straight up I hate how I’ve been feeling/acting lately. I’ll try to change my behavior today, whatever that means. Maybe I haven’t been very true to myself and that’s whats wrong. I’m not sure, all I know is I don’t feel very good.

11:30 AM

Holy fuck I hate myself lol.

2:37 PM

Well here I am having another episode. One that will end over time but I know I’m gonna be in a dark place for a little bit.

I feel alone and hopeless. For years I feel like my life has steadily been going downhill. Like I’ve desperately tried to hold onto everything I have but I lose things one by one until one day it’ll reach a breaking point and then it’s game over for me. People don’t care about me as much as I’d like, or at least I don’t always feel like they do. Probably because ultimately I’m a bad person to rely on no matter how hard I try. I feel destined to fail in everything I do. I struggle to find meaning in literally anything and the things I do find meaning in might just be coping mechanisms or otherwise unhealthy. I can’t even tell. All I can think to do is stick to my miserable schedule and wait for tiny moments of what I think is true happiness when I end up being able to gaslight myself into thinking I’m okay for a little bit.

3:11 PM

Part of my horny problem is not even knowing what I want to do. I don’t just want to orgasm, I want something conceptually intense. Thats why I started leaning into watersports. I just love the humiliation aspect of it, no nutting is required to get my fix off of it. A lot of things have gotten old to me, like I’ve gotten much pickier when it comes to how scenes I like are portrayed. I wish I could get over this problem and have an easier time enjoying what I used to. My current plan has been trying to delegate horny behavior to more specific times. I think being a porn artist has led me to constantly seeking the sexuality in situations like it’s my job. I don’t want to constantly idea generate because it ends up getting in the way of wholesome times and burns me out on concepts.

Another thing is how much more I used to enjoy doing things with other people. I erp’ed with a few people I wouldn’t have considered “close” and had fun, but that desire went away a long time ago. Partially because I always thought I was supposed to be giga horny and fucking around just to fit in. These days I like to save myself for more meaningful interactions which unfortunately results in less activity than I think I’d like. But there is no way around this.

This’ll probably stop being such a big deal when I stop blueballing myself and finally do something. I think it’s been about a week of keeping myself pent up for basically no reason but at this point I’d wanna end it with something good so I’m still being patient until I’m in the right mood.

8:26 PM

I am unlovable because I can’t even accept myself for who I am. I am alone because of myself. I will always be alone unless I can change.

Honestly I wish I could have an existential giga crisis that either results in me offing myself or developing a miraculous life changing perspective.

What have I ever done to deserve love anyways? Let down everyone I’ve ever known? Hence why I’m a friendless loser clinging onto to the few people that bare to put up with me. I don’t want to live knowing I will always end up with nobody.

12:09 AM

Well obviously today was shit. Getting all my work done didn’t even feel good in the end, just pointless because who cares about when I draw my own OC? I didn’t really care too either so it feels like a total waste.

I calmed down over the course of the evening but I’m still aware of my fundamental issues. Being inspired by what my friend is going through, I think I need a sort of change as well. I know how bad I am at hanging onto the past and how much it keeps me from moving forward. I more or less feel like I’m still meant to be living up to things that have long expired. For example, I still feel like I’m supposed to be a part of the TDS group and that I’m not allowed to move onto a different group. I feel like I used up my friend group slot and it cannot be replaced. I feel like that with friends I no longer talk to as well. I really need to move on from them. Yeah what we had was cool and maybe it would have been nice to salvage it but in most cases, things are far beyond that point. Ideally they’d turn into actual memories instead of current thoughts in my head. I’d have so much potential if I just didn’t consider them to still be relevant.

Nothing is “used up.” There is so much potential in anything I choose to do if only I can see it. But that’s the hard part.

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foxy-eva · 2 years ago

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A Remedy for Rivalry

Summary: Spencer decides to put his rival in her place after she got cocky about her academic achievements

Request: I was wondering if you could do a one shot of jealous Spencer with an enemies to lovers-ish trope? Added black lingerie would be appreciated because I just love pieces like that too much

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) mild dom/sub undertones (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader), a little bit of sexism (related to being a woman in a male dominated field), arguing, jealousy, possessiveness, teasing, praising, thigh grinding, fingering, protected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: I wrote this for the lovely @reidsbookclub and her one year celebration! The prompt I used is: "Meet me outside." "NOW"

Word count: 4.8k

Masterlist

Being invited to speak at a conference alongside renowned researchers was all I had dreamed of for years. When I noticed that a certain someone was getting significantly less time to speak at the stage than I did, I couldn’t have been happier. Ever since he took on a full-time teaching job at the university I had worked at for years, he seemed to always be a step ahead of me when it came to publications. But today the tables had turned.

Dr. Spencer Reid was outshone by my academic achievements and I knew it made him furious.

A part of me knew that seeing him more as a colleague than a rival would have made my life easier. But I couldn’t get over the fact that he had gotten everyone’s attention once he became a professor. So much so that I had to drop one of my classes because all the female students decided to attend his lectures instead.

Of course I knew that this had nothing to do with his teaching skills.

It was as if suddenly I had to work twice as hard to get half the praise he got. So it was only natural for me to enjoy the spotlight for once. The little get-together after the main event was a perfect opportunity to get to know other researchers to build a little network. I was deep in a conversation with a neuroscientist whose publications I had recently read when I noticed Dr. Reid approaching us to listen to our conversation.

I didn’t mind his presence at all. In fact, I really wanted to see his face when he heard a well-respected scientist like Dr. Smith praise me for my achievements.

“I must say, I was really impressed by you talking on stage earlier. And that had nothing to do with how stunning you look,” Dr. Smith said with a little wink.

My smile instantly dropped while I saw a smug grin forming on Dr. Reid’s face. Why men had such a hard time giving compliments without mentioning appearances I would never understand.

“Well, her looks might have been the reason nobody noticed the blatant mistake she made in her presentation,” Dr. Reid chuckled.

“Excuse me?!” I hissed at him.

“The paper you cited for your work was revised two days ago, making your whole argument invalid.”

I felt the color draining from my face as I tried to wrap my head around what he was saying.

“As far as I see it, that is just a reason to do more research and publish another one of your brilliant articles,” Dr. Smith tried to appease me.

It didn’t work. I downed my drink and left the party, stepping outside to breathe in some fresh air. I felt defeated and humiliated and decided that this time I wouldn’t let Dr. Reid get away with it. I pulled out my phone from my purse to send him a text.

“Meet me outside,” was what I typed, followed by a second text right after. “NOW”

It took him exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds to stand beside me outside of the building.

As soon as I saw him I started yelling, “What the hell was that? You can’t undermine me like that!”

“I wouldn’t call it that. It was just me correcting you,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Do you really think you’re better at doing this because… You’re a man?”

“What? No! That has nothing to do with gender. Except that you’d have more time to do your research if you didn’t flirt with every man in there,” he mocked me.

“You mean every man but you.”

He only huffed at that, averting his eyes from me to look at the ground instead. A reaction I hadn’t expected but found very interesting. I couldn’t let that go just yet.

“If I recall correctly, you did agree with Dr. Smith that I looked stunning,” I teased.

“His words, not mine,” he muttered.

After taking a deep breath, I calmed down slightly and asked, “Tell me, Dr. Reid, what exactly is your problem with me?”

“You mean other than you being nothing but spiteful ever since we started working together?” He spat.

I shook my head, “I’m not that bad.”

“You kind of are.”

I thought back to the times he tried to engage in a conversation and I didn’t even grant him a look because I was so angry at him for having had to drop one of my classes. Maybe there was a little bit of truth in what he said.

“But I’m still good at what I do,” I countered.

He seemed a little more leaned back now as well but he still couldn’t stop insulting me. “Most of the time, yes. But your latest research methods were a little… flawed.”

“Well, you’re flawed!”

“Wow,” he chuckled. “Clever.”

“Look, Dr. Reid. There is a place for both of us in this field. I know you have a lot of experience but I have worked really hard to get where I am and I won’t let you take this away from me,” I tried to explain without it getting out too harshly.

“I’m not trying to take anything away from you. In fact, I would have liked to do some research together with you when I started working at the university. But every time I tried to talk to you, you just showed me how much you despised me.”

He couldn’t hide the slight trembling in his voice and I wasn’t sure if it was from being angry or hurt.

I brushed a strand of hair out of my face as I said, “It’s just… as a woman in my field, it feels like I have to work extra hard to get credit.”

His eyes found mine and for the first time ever I noticed how kind they were.

“That’s understandable. I know the dean made you drop one of your classes because of the… influx of female students in my lectures. That wasn’t fair. If it helps, I’m pretty sure most of them aren’t actually there to learn anything.”

The last part made me laugh, “Yeah, I saw how they look at you.”

I noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks, his eyes finding the ground once more.

When our eyes locked again, he had a sincere look on his face. “I’m sorry about exposing you in front of Dr. Smith like that. I should not have done that.”

“Maybe you could actually tell me what about my method seems flawed to you when we get back to work?” I suggested.

Suddenly there was a glimmer in his eyes I couldn’t ignore. He stepped closer to me but still kept a fair amount of distance between us. I had never allowed myself to look at him like I did then. I had never seen him as the man he was and not just a rival I had to beat. It was then that I felt the warmth radiating from his smile and I secretly hoped it wasn’t the last time I’d notice that.

“That would mean you’d have to spend time with me,” he chuckled.

I joined him in his laughter, “If it’s for science, I think I could endure that.”

Dr. Reid glanced at his watch. “It’s getting pretty late, I think I’m heading back to my room.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that too.”

A smug grin formed on his face at the innuendo.

“To my room, I mean,” I snickered.

Together we entered the hotel and stepped into the elevator, realizing that our rooms were on the same floor. When I reached my door I whispered, “Good night, Dr. Reid.”

“Please, call me Spencer.”

“Good night, Spencer,” I breathed as I stepped into my room, closing the door behind me.

As I rinsed my body under the shower, I thought about the conversation I had with Spencer. He had shown me a side of him I hadn’t noticed before and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this had to do with how I treated him. A knot built in my stomach at the thought of how things could have gone differently if I had given him a chance months ago.

I only then realized that underneath the intellect and cockiness he wore as armor, there seemed to be a kind and warm man with a more exciting side as well. Maybe it was the researcher in me who wanted to explore every part of him, to see which hidden sides I could make him show me when we were alone.

When I stood in front of my suitcase to look for something to sleep in, I suddenly held a set of black lace lingerie in my hands. I didn’t pack it for anyone to see but myself because it always gave me an extra boost of confidence when I wore it underneath my usual attire. However, in that moment I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering to the image of Spencer’s face with his mouth agape and his cheeks tinted red at the sight of my underwear.

The knot I felt in my stomach before quickly turned into a pleasant tingling that spread through my whole body. When I put on the flimsy pieces of lace I got a boost of confidence and decided that there was still something I had to tell Spencer tonight.

After putting on a pair of jeans and a shirt, I smiled to myself. Spencer didn’t know about the secret underneath the first layer of my clothes and maybe he never would. But if he’d give me a chance to let him in on it, I definitely wouldn’t let it pass.

With three firm knocks against his hotel room door I announced my presence. Spencer opened a few seconds later, staring at me like a deer caught in headlights. I let my eyes roam over his body and couldn’t stop the smile from forming on my face when I saw him wearing a washed-out shirt and flannel pajama pants.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“I can’t stop thinking about our conversation and there is something I need to tell you,” I announced.

He stepped aside to let me enter, closing the door behind us. The room was only lit by the lamp on the nightstand, an open book laying abandoned on the sheets. I turned to face him, standing a little more than an arm’s length away from him.

“The reason I came here is… I thought about what you said, about how I treated you. I’m sorry I acted this way. I would really like a fresh start,” I admitted.

He didn’t say anything, instead he stared at me with his lips slightly parted.

“Please, Spencer.”

That seemed to get his attention. I noticed how his eyes darkened slightly as he took a deep breath.

I continued, “I’m sure we can find common ground if we both try. Maybe we could meet somewhere in the middle.”

He started to smirk and stepped closer until I could almost feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“What are you doing?” I muttered.

“Meeting you in the middle. Now it’s your turn to take a step,” he chuckled.

“I… didn’t mean that in a physical way.”

He came even closer. “Are you sure about that? You don’t seem to mind the proximity.”

He was right about that. But there was something about his confident demeanor that made me incredibly nervous. I thought that I could walk over here and take the lead in our encounter, but by the way he stared at me I knew that I wouldn’t have the upper hand tonight. The thought of that excited me more than I could put into words.

I took a step in his direction, halting right before our bodies could touch. I stared up at him, wondering if he had expected me to make the next move. His eyes fell to my lips for a split second and I noticed his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick over his lips. He looked at me like a man starved, his appetite growing the longer he kept his eyes on me.

The tension between us was almost unbearable and I felt like my head was spinning, unable to grasp how the energy between us could have shifted so drastically in such a short time. Maybe I had been in denial about how attracted I was to him this whole time.

Without a warning he started to speak, “I also thought about our conversation.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, interested in what he had to say.

“You said you had noticed how those girls were looking at me.”

It took me a moment to remember what he was hinting at until I realized he was talking about all those female students who didn’t exactly make a secret of their attraction towards their professor.

“Yes, it’s very obvious,” I whispered.

“You do know, I would never do anything about that, right?”

I had never thought about Spencer in that context. He didn’t really strike me as the person to cross a line like that, so I shook my head.

“Good. The truth is, I don’t care about them at all. It’s ironic really. I walk around the campus every day, noticing how those girls start chatting when they see me. And all I ever think about is the one woman whose attention I can’t seem to get.”

My eyes widened at the realization that he was talking about me. He said it with an almost harsh tone in his voice but he couldn’t conceal the vulnerability bleeding through his words.

I placed my fingertips on his cheeks and noticed how he closed his eyes for a moment and leaned into my touch. I leaned against him, his hands instantly flying to my waist to hinder me from moving away from him again. That was the last thing I wanted to do right then anyway.

With our lips mere inches away from one another, I whispered, “I’m sorry it took me so long but I see you now. I see you, Spencer.”

He didn’t hesitate to close the distance then, his lips pressing against mine with a fervor that shocked my whole system. He pushed against my body until my back met the nearest wall, having me gasp against his lips. He saw that as an invitation to deepen our union, his tongue meeting mine as he melted into me.

My hand flew to his hair, grabbing a fistful to keep him in place. We kissed each other hungrily, months of rivalry finally unloading at the contact. When I thought that we couldn’t possibly get any closer to each other, he leaned further against my body until I could feel the extent of his desire pressing hard against my hip.

It sent heat directly into my core and there was no way I could have stopped the whimper from escaping my throat. I needed to feel more of him, getting greedy to explore every inch of his body. My palms glided down his body until I found the hem of his shirt, dipping underneath it to feel the skin of his back.

I felt him breaking out in goosebumps as my fingertips danced over his skin without a barrier. He seemed to appreciate the contact or else he wouldn’t have dared to break our kiss to practically rip his own shirt off his body. He was back at me in no time, kissing along my jaw and down my throat while my hands kept exploring his upper body.

His hands fell to the hem of my shirt, toying with it before pushing it up slightly to graze his fingertips along my sides. He pulled back to look at me for a moment, stopping me when I attempted to continue our kiss.

“Do you want this?” He asked.

He was offering me an out but nothing in this world could have made me take that. “Yes, I want this. More than anything,” I sincerely told him.

“If you want to stop or do anything else, just tell me.”

“I will.”

That was the last bit of reassurance he needed to continue. He walked me over to the bed and I expected him to push me onto it but he didn’t. Instead, he sat down on the edge of it and looked at me.

“Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

I hesitated for a moment until his eyes found mine, looking at me with the utmost adoration. I shed my shirt and my pants, leaving me standing in front of him in only the set of black lace underwear I had wanted him to see. His eyes roamed over my body as if he was absorbing my image and storing it into his mind.

When our eyes locked again, a smug grin was prominent on his face.

“Did you wear that for me?” He chuckled.

“Yes.”

My honesty seemed to surprise him as his eyes widened at my answer.

“So, talking to me wasn’t the only thing you had in mind when you came over.”

I slowly turned around to let him see every side of my body. “Do you like it?”

“Very much so,” he groaned. “Come here.”

He pulled me into his lap and I found his lips to capture them in a soft kiss. It was gentler than the one before but it still left me yearning for more. Spencer placed his hands on my thighs, his fingertips pressing into the supple flesh. He broke the kiss to look at me.

“Do you want to know why I interrupted your conversation with Dr. Smith?”

I didn’t quite understand why he would bring up another man at that exact moment until he continued without waiting for my answer.

“I saw the way he looked at you. And I couldn’t stand the thought of him taking you to his room tonight,” he confessed.

My fingertips traced the scruff on his jaw. The thought of him getting jealous let my panties quickly dampen. Instead of teasing him for his feelings, I decided to reassure him instead.

“I’m here with you now.”

His eyes got a shade darker as I witnessed his pupils dilating.

“It’s where you belong,” he groaned before kissing me once more.

He pulled back with my lower lip caught between his teeth, only letting go of it when he heard me whimpering.

“Say it!” He ordered.

He seemed almost desperate in his need to be reassured that it was really him I wanted to be with.

“I belong with you, Spencer.”

With one swift motion he repositioned us to lie on the bed. His mouth was all over me, exploring every inch of my skin within reach. He nipped at the sensitive skin of my neck before tracing my collarbones with his lips. Wandering further down, he kissed along the seam of my bra before finding my hardened peaks through the thin lace. I arched my back into the contact, getting desperate to feel more of him.

Reaching behind me, he undid my bra to remove the fabric from my body. He took a moment to take in the sight of my exposed chest before continuing his mission to explore my body. He sucked harshly on my skin whenever he wanted to elicit a whine from my throat, smiling against my skin when those sounds morphed into moans.

His lips found mine once more while his hand descended further down my body. His fingertips ghosted over the lace of my panties before hooking underneath the waistband to pull them down my thighs. My own hands started to get more curious as well, gliding down his back until they found the soft fabric of his pajama pants.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I breathed between kisses.

Spencer didn’t hesitate to get rid of the remaining pieces of clothing, leaving him just as bare as I was. We pressed our skin into one another, our kisses growing more heated while our bodies started rocking against each other. His length was pressing hard against my thigh until my hand wrapped around it to slowly stroke it.

The groan he let out when I swiped my thumb over his leaking tip echoed through the room and imprinted directly into my brain.

His hand grazed over my inner thighs several times, always skipping over where I wanted to feel him the most. The longer he denied me the much needed contact, the more desperate I grew. I was burning for his touch, for some friction, for anything really. In an attempt to soothe my aching core, I pressed my thighs together.

Spencer was not happy when he noticed that.

With more force than necessary, he pushed my legs apart and looked at me with furrowed brows. He hovered over me with one of his legs between mine. Pushing his thigh against my heat, I gasped at the sudden contact.

“Here, show me how desperate you are.”

It took me a second to understand but once I knew what he wanted from me, I started grinding against his leg, seeking the friction I so desperately longed for. Spencer hovered over me, unable to decide whether to look at my face or my wet folds moving against his skin, leaving a shimmer of arousal on his leg.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised me.

I was getting desperate as I chased some relief, aware that it would be hard for me to find it this way.

When I dared to close my eyes Spencer groaned, “Look at me!”

I obeyed but struggled to keep my lids open as the pleasure overcame me. Just when I thought that I could actually fall over the edge like this, he denied me the contact. I whined in protest, the tension in my loins becoming almost too much.

“Not yet,” he cooed, “not until I tell you to.”

He was still hovering over me, propped up with one of his elbows beside my head. He kept kissing me while his other hand snuck down between our bodies to make contact with my heat. Moving his fingertips through slick folds, I couldn’t contain the moans and sighs rolling from my lips and directly into his mouth.

When he slowly entered me with two of his fingers, I couldn’t help but clench my walls at the intrusion. He halted his motion, waiting patiently for my body to let him in.

“Relax,” he whispered against my lips. “I want to make you feel good.”

After taking a deep breath, I welcomed him inside me and he started to work his fingers against the tight flesh. My hips began to rock against his hand as I quickly longed for more. When he seemed to be pleased with the way my body reacted to his touch, he removed his hand to get up from the bed.

He was back on the mattress with a little foil wrapper in his hand after just a few seconds. Kneeling between my legs, he took his sweet time to let his eyes wander over my body.

“You look so hot lying all splayed out for me,” he purred.

How he was still able to form proper sentences I couldn’t understand. I started to feel lightheaded, as if my body might crumble if he didn’t grant me what I longed for.

“Please, Spencer…” I mumbled.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me,” I pleaded. “Please.”

“God,” he groaned as he ripped open the foil, “I will never get enough of hearing you beg.”

After putting on the condom, he leaned over me with his cock aligned at my entrance. He slowly pushed into me while his mouth captured mine, not letting any of my sighs escape. When he reached my deepest point, he halted inside me and I felt him twitching against my walls.

“You feel amazing,” he mumbled against my lips right before he started moving. “Even better than I had imagined.”

My eyes got wide at his confession. I wanted to know more about me being the center of lewd fantasies, but I was already too far gone to ask him about it. He decided to tell me anyway.

“You have no idea how often I thought about bending you over your desk in your office,” he hissed.

I answered him with my moans at the thought of that, my walls clenching hard around his length.

He continued, “Everytime you disrespected me, I thought about putting you in your place.”

If him reprimanding me would feel even remotely close to what I was experiencing then, I’d be happy to keep treating him the way I did before.

His thrusts were deep and hard, keeping a steady rhythm that soon was matched with my hips moving with him. I clung onto his body with my arms and legs around him, only allowing enough room for our hips to move. When the need for air overcame us, our mouths separated to pant against each other’s faces instead.

With all the built-up tension inside of me, I felt my climax quickly approaching and that didn’t stay unnoticed. Spencer accelerated his pace, his eyes fixated on my face to not miss any of my reactions.

When I scrunched up my face, he kissed my cheek before whispering into my ear, “Come for me.”

If life would be perfect, I would have come undone at his command. But I didn’t, instead I kept dancing along the edge, desperate for the final push to enter a state of pure bliss. Spencer seemed to notice my struggle and let one of his hands sneak between our bodies until his thumb found my most sensitive spot.

He kept a steady pace pushing into me while drawing tight circles around the bud of my crevice until I finally managed to let go.

“There you go,” he moaned as he watched me fall apart.

When he felt me pulsating around his length, he retracted his hand and buried his face into the crook of my neck. His thrusts became erratic as he chased his own relief, his breath feeling hot against my skin as he sang my praise in the forms of the sound of his undoing.

I noticed him holding his breath right before I felt him throbbing inside me. My hips slowly rocked against him until the stimulation got too much for him, making him whimper against my neck. With one hand in his hair and one on his back, I let my fingertips dance over his body as he came down from his high.

It was inevitable for him to move but I still whined when he disappeared in the bathroom. He was back after a few moments with a damp towel in his hand. He sat on the edge of the bed, placing one of his hands on my thigh.

“Open up for me please.”

I tried to reach for the fabric, muttering, “I can do that myself.”

He softly smiled at me and tapped the skin of my leg, telling me with a soothing tone, “I know that you can, but you shouldn’t have to.”

Without thinking about it further, I let my legs fall open to grant him access to my most delicate parts. He carefully cleaned me up, letting the fabric run through my folds to rid me of the remains of my excitement.

When he was done he put the towel away to lie down beside me, pulling the blanket over our bodies. I curled into his side, letting my head rest on his chest. His palm brushed over my back, helping me relax inside his embrace. He placed a featherlight kiss on the top of my head before he wanted to know, “Are you okay?”

I propped myself up on my elbow to be able to look at him.

“Yes, I am. Are you?”

He smiled at my question. “I’m more than okay.”

I thought about the conversations that led us to this exact moment and realized something.

“You never actually told me what you think about a fresh start,” I remarked.

Spencer broke out in laughter and shook his head.

“After all that just went down between us, you still need me to confirm that?” He chuckled.

“To be fair, one could misinterpret this as a hate-fuck.”

Despite the playfulness in my voice, his eyes softened at my words. His hand found my cheek, having me lean into his touch.

“That’s not what that was. Not for me, at least,” he cooed.

I kissed his lips and mumbled against them, “It wasn’t for me either.”

With his hand on the nape of my neck, he kept me in place to deepen the kiss while shifting our position so he was on top of me once more. He kissed along my cheek until he found my ear.

“Yes, I would really like a fresh start with you. Especially when it means I can keep doing this” he whispered before kissing down my neck and descending further down my body.

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know what you think here!

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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

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Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids.

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint?

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower.

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes.

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer.

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest.

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”

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dollslayer · 4 years ago

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Fight or Flight

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.

W/C: 2,369

Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing

A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!

PART TWO I Masterlist

____

The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.

Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.

Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.

“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”

Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.

You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.

Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”

Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.

Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.

Two rings and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Did you know?”

The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.

“Liste-”

You hang up.

You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.

“What’s happening, shortstack?”

You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.

“Can I come over? Something happened.”

“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.

____

Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.

When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.

“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.

You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.

“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”

“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.

You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.

You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.

He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.

“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.

His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.

There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.

____

Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.

Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.

Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.

He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.

It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?

Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.

____

It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.

You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.

What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.

It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.

What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.

He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.

When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?

You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.

The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.

He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?

You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.

He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.

He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.

You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #tony stark & reader #steve rogers angst #angst #implied cheating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader

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yandere--stuck · 4 years ago

Text

The god of sleep has no dreams of his own. When Hypnos sleeps, it grants him the opportunity of visiting those of others, drifting along as on a gentle river. It’s comforting. Shards and glimpses of lives that aren’t his own, of people and places that won’t ever mean the same to him, the visions indirectly threaded by his fingers. There are far too many dreams for him to make, which is why most aren’t. He brings them to sleep, and their bodies do most of the work.

Regardless, it is his domain. Every mortal needs to sleep, whether they like it or not, which makes him an inevitable part of their life. A third of every human’s day rests in his hands. As payment, all he wants to do is observe, to be in their company. (Hypnos likes humans. They don’t notice him in sleep, or worship him in their days, but he doesn’t mind. It’s easier to handle being ignored when it’s not their choice, when it’s impossible for them to notice him, rather than his mom’s cold eyes passing through him like he’s a sliver of mist.

At least when he’s among the dreams of the living, he’s less alone. There’s no judgement, but no praise either.) With how many mortals and dreams there are to go around, it’s rare for him to visit more than once. Though it’s much rarer for anyone to take note of him. Most people aren’t aware they’re dreaming while doing so, being swept along by their dreams instead of having control, but you’re not one of those. You’re blessed with lucidity, morphing bits and pieces of the experience as you go. Most importantly...

You see him. You laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was lonely enough to make up some guy to keep me company… Guess you learn something new every day!”

In one motion, you pinch his chin between your fingers and pull his face towards yours. He lets out a surprised noise, at the fact you can touch him in the first place, and the movement itself. And it’s a high and squeaky sound, one that makes him want to curl up in his blanket and slip from this dream to the next. You make no comment on it, only smiling wider.

“Ooooh, your eyes are golden! So pretty… Glad my subconsciousness has good taste, at least.” You add the last part to yourself, laughing again.

You don’t think he’s real, just some made up character of your dream. It’s no surprise you aren’t aware that you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen before. For now, he’s glad to have you believe that. It’d be more humiliating if you knew a god was making such a fool out of himself, heat rising to his face. His tongue is limp in his mouth. When was the last time someone called him pretty? Had anyone ever called him that, and touched him so carelessly? You save him from the burden of speaking up first.

“What’s your name? Do you have one?”

He hesitates. If you knew who he was, you wouldn’t treat him the same anymore. “I don’t! But, um-!“

Hypnos knows and accepts what others think of him, knows that he’s no good at his job or much else, but if there’s one thing he would excel in, it would be here. He straightens his back a bit from its usual slouch, the tips of his feet grazing the ground as he floats. “I’m here to make sure you’re going to have a grand old time, you know? I know aaaall about having fun in dreams! Why, you could call me an expert! At your service.”

He does this stupid little bow, and immediately regrets it. You laugh, but not at him, and people don’t usually find him this entertaining, he thinks, and if you keep this up, it will become one of his favourite sounds.

“Alright, mister dream expert,” You say with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

He helps you float like he does, and assists you at conjuring up whatever idea pops into your brain. Hypnos expected you , but that’s not all you do. You try to ask him questions about himself, even if you supposedly don’t think he’s real, and you actually listen. And when you tell him about yourself in return, he does the same. It’s fun, he’s having a good time, and he’s disappointed when he’s jolted awake because of someone walking too close past him. He’ll have to apologise for suddenly disappearing next time. (Next time? Does he want there to be a next time?)

Hypnos makes a habit out of visiting you. You’re not always aware you’re asleep, sometimes your dreams are the same as any other human’s. He savours those days too, at the insights into your life it offers him. However, it’s most enjoyable when you look at him with bright eyes and talk to him, and laugh at things he says and joke around at this side. There’s a warm tightness in his chest around you, he’s happy, he is, but also impossibly nervous to mess up and have your smile turn into a sneer. It’s surprising you even still want to be around him, if past experience is anything to go by, he isn’t any good at not annoying people. But you’re different. You haven’t insulted him at any point, either! You must really be some blessing.

Hypnos thinks he likes you. A lot. He’s never thought of it before, whether this is allowed or not. Never considered the possibility of forming a close bond through dreams. Hypnos decides that it is, and who would he even ask, isn’t he the deity of sleep? He’ll make his own rules, number one being that it’s totally a-okay to have dream friends! That you visit and think about all the time and spend all your time thinking up new fun ideas for! And sometimes you scratch their name into the margins of your lists while zoning out! He’s getting off track. (And, well, this all seems more like a problem exclusive to him…) What he wants most is to have you down here with him, to touch you and feel something, to have you around while you’re awake and asleep.

But to do that... It would be an offense to all sacred rules to meddle directly with the path the Fates had set out for you. Perhaps they’ll have some mercy on him for being family. Either way, he’s going to falsify your cause of death in the records. He's tired of being a bystander in your life. Hypnos doubts whether you can even remember him when you wake up. He isn’t exhausted in his normal way however, it’s no tugging at his eyelids or yawns hidden behind an open palm. This hurts. It’s an ache, an empty hole beyond his ribs. Your warmth needs to fill it, he’s sure. He wouldn’t be able to stand and watch as your life blossomed, how you would inevitably love someone else, be happy and forget about him all together. (It’s unfair. He's never had anyone that wanted be anything of his. Not a friend, not family, not a lover. And now you’re here, the first to not see him as a disgrace, and now he should let himself be stopped by some old rules?) Because compared to what someone right there with you could give, what did he have to offer? If he believed everyone else, he had nothing of worth to give anyone. All he had was this love, what he thinks is love. But you laugh with him, you seem happy, and what he knows of human life is suffering. So many terrible deaths, so many unresolved emotions, so many wishes that never came to be.

Hypnos could save you from it all. You would never have to worry about anything again. But he knows how much humans fear death: It’s reflected so often in their worst nightmares, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare you.. How surprised you’ll be at suddenly finding out he’s real, not just a figment of imagination!

He’s giddy. The two of you could have be together forever! (And if you didn’t love him back, why would you smile at him like that? Why did you always say you were happy to see him return? He has neither experience in friendships or relationships, but he shares those sentiments, so you must love him too. Otherwise… He doesn’t want to think about it .)

So he visits you. Hypnos floats above your bed, watching down upon you. He caresses your face as you rest, watching you through lidded eyes. You called him it first, but you’re pretty too. He doesn’t care about your hair being a mess, or the dried drool on your chin, or how you lay in a weird position, legs and blanket all tangled up. Your soft breaths are adorable, and he wants to coo at you, to make your face turn warm instead of his.

The thought of his brother seeing you and taking your soul makes him uncomfortable, he wants this vision of you to be only his.

Your eyes crack open with a little groan and before you have the chance to struggle or cry out, he presses a kiss against your forehead, forcing some of his raw power into your frail, mortal body.

It shouldn’t hurt. He asked. Your form was never meant to take godly powers, it’s too overwhelming, destroying you from within, and you go limp within a second. It’s like you fell asleep. A sleep so deep you will never awaken again. (i know hypnos doesn’t govern dreams his sons do but i had an Idea,, hope u enjoyed!!)

---

(THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OH MY GOSH!!!!! You're so talented, this is written so beautifully, it's amazing!!!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO POST!!! I've had a busy past few days ^^; I also hope it's okay that I had to edit it, or it'd be a big block of text, hehe. Thank you so much again!!!! 💚💚💚)

#yandere hypnos #hypnos x reader #yandere hades game x reader #hades game x reader #hades x reader #yandere hades game #hades game #yandere hades x reader #yandere hypnos x reader #yandere hades #yandere greek gods #yandere #long post #hades #submission

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fuu-miku · 3 years ago

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An autistic reading of Draco Malfoy

Ok so I’m fresh back from a shower and I had a galaxy brain moment and, it sounds kind of far fetched at first but I wouldn’t be making this post if it didn’t have a surprisingly fitting amount of groundwork so hear me out: autistic Draco Malfoy

Now this is going to be a long analysis, and kinda angsty, brace yourselves. Yes this is me, former bully undiagnosed autistic troublemaker gifted kid, projecting stuff onto him bc I see similarities. I’ll write this kind of like a narrative because I find it easier to show what I mean that way, but keep in mind not everything I say MUST mean he’s autistic. Yes, I’m aware neurotypicals and autistic people do share some ways of reasoning, thank you. I touch on a lot of topics from his friends to his bullying to his academic life so you can look at the first sentence of a paragraph if you’re looking for something in particular. I’m concentrating more on seeing canon through autistic lenses rather than making my own headcanons, so you won’t really see much original content, just speculations. It’s not all that well organized though, my apologies, I should be writing a college essay right now lol. I might edit this to make it cleaner and explain better in the future, this is kind of just me rambling right now. Also this is just a headcanon I like and constructed from thinking, so I’m not trying to convince you he absolutely is autistic and cannot be seen otherwise, but if you straight up try to tell me I’m wrong and he couldn’t be, please don’t waste your breath.

So first of all, I’ve always imagined Draco being rather sheltered before Hogwarts, yeah? Private tutors at home, probably having more fancy parties than playtime with kids his age, etc etc. So he was taught high society etiquette and rules, told the world was a certain way, but never got much on hand experience, either with the world or with genuine or casual social interactions.

So when he got to Hogwarts, a place where everything is wacky and different? Well, being of a rather curious nature and having been taught to be proud of his wizard heritage, all of the flaunted and unknown magic was pretty cool. Seeing all the students was a bit intimidating, but he was taught he was the center of the world and everyone at mother’s parties fell at his knees, so he was confident he’d be right at home and be liked. So when the chosen one rejected him so categorically? That was new and humiliating, and threatening, and scary. If we look at some autistic traits, routine is important and you must mentally prepare for new things, and for later on, black and white thinking as well as ideological and moral rigidity are very common, which can make self-introspection and such much harder and categorical.

Crabbe and Goyle became his lackeys, and while he maybe didn’t consider himself super close to them or anything, Draco did think of them as friends. It’s not like he had much other friendships to compare it to, they befriended him because of his name and confidence and that’s what Draco knew of social interactions so he didn’t question it. They weren’t much for intellectually challenging him, so he prob felt kinda superior to them as well. They weren’t willing to challenge him on anything else, either, which I cannot stress how important that is. As an autistic kid, first of all being undiagnosed sucks because you don’t just sus out vibes and learn things that way, so to not get much social contact and have your only friends be doormats without personnalities? He’s in an echo chamber, no one is telling him why or what he’s doing is wrong, he’s brooding and making his own twisted view of how the world is from his limited experience of the general human experience. Draco not noticing his friends were polyjuiced in chamber of secrets is very telling imo, he does most of the talking and Crabbe and Goyle just kinda listen and nod along or laugh in agreement, Draco is used to seeing everyone else as less complex or important.

From what we see of the movies and books, he has very high grades without making much efforts. That leads me to believe that, like me, he tends to get understimulated more than overstimulated. He doodles in class and can do other things that make it seems like he doesn’t care or isn’t paying attention, but actually it helps him concentrate and remember the lesson more. That effortless and careless look from the outside means that people generally assume he just has that devil-may-care attitude, that he flaunts his smarts and is kind of an overall asshole. The teachers generally let him do his thing since he gets the grades, but it doesn’t mean that prejudice isn’t there. If he does miss something, doesn’t understand a part of the matter or anything, the blame gets pinned on him, he gets dismissed, told he should just try harder, things like that. And let me tell you that builds up resentment. You’re going to tell me I meet the criterias for success in your class easily and even though it’s literally your job to be there to help us, me not stroking your ego constantly and succeeding my own way gives you ground to be petty and judge me? K thanks Mcgonagall. And because Harry & the golden trio have a soft spot in most of the teachers’ hearts, get turned into a ferret type of soft spot, get constant academic recognition while you don’t because she can’t stop spewing textbook extraits and basically be outwardly a good student rather than inwardly, get a lot of passes on laziness & breaking rules because you’re the chosen one’s best friend while you get told off if you bring slightly unsatisfactory grades to your father, that. Builds up. Resentment. Additionally, from his attitude in many classes I can really see him complaining about classes and teachers all the time because he thinks a lesson was pointless, or the teacher taught this in an inefficient way, or that exercise was stupid, etc. He frequently wishes teachers would be clearer in their lessons and directives, and he feels like he could have explained it more comprehensively than them, essentially. Getting to the why things work the way they do so students can understand and remember by logic rather than memorizing book passages. But in the end, it’s just because he learns differently, not that the teachers are incompetent.

Because he was raised to think he was inherently better than everyone else because of his pure blood and family, it was kind of just logical to see his difference as a result of that, an effect/trait of his superiority. He’s more logically inclined, often says things that unvoluntarily piss of others so that makes him feel more cool headed in comparison, he learns more instinctually and faster than others generally, he’s somewhat of a social outcast, aka he feels like a black sheep and that just widens the gap his pureblood prejudices had already made, so telling himself his difference is just that makes it easier to swallow, it just seems logical. They were the ones who were different from him, not the reverse. He was smarter, better educated and he was the one who could truly call the moral shots in his mind, in a true “I am the anime protagonist and cannot be wrong and you all are peasants” kind of way.

And that’s where we come to his bullying/obsession of the golden trio. I genuinely think that he saw Harry’s rejection as him being wronged. So he’s angry, resentful and Harry made himself his rival, picking on him whenever he can and fighting back just feels... Natural? And it’s not like anyone is stopping him either, truly where tf were the teachers. He doesn’t think he can be wrong, so that means it’s them that are wrong, and if someone dislikes him it’s probably their fault and not his. He doesn’t think he can be wrong, and since the only people who tell him he is are people he already sees as not worthy of respect, people that are out to get him, etc, and everyone he does respect like his slytherin friends, his family, Snape, etc, share his opinions, enable him or let him do whatever he wants, he just doesn’t actually consider what they tell him, even though to us questioning Draco’s morality for his bullying seems obvious. Because he was raised to assume everyone’s shortcomings/fault before his own, and because of a defense mechanism because the alternative is realizing your whole world view is based on lies and misconceptions as I hinted at, it influences absolutely all of his interactions with the world.

And that brings me to my final statement that getting diagnosed would do him tremendeous good, having everything be put into perspective and finally getting shown experiences he relates to would speed up his maturing process significantly and save him pain, confusion and loneliness in the long run for sure, but in the moment? He would flip his *shit*. He would have a breakdown, be in extreme denial. He’d have to get used to the idea, getting exposure to stuff about autism until he can begrundgingly admit to himself that he sees himself in some of it, and eventually he’ll have made his peace with it. And then he’d have a burnout and reevaluate his philosophy and existentialism and he’d come out of it not giving any shit at all and never masking another minute of his life again /hj Getting diagnosed with autism would be similar to getting a big wake up call slap in the face about everything his pureblood raising being wrong times 100, because it’s not just your social bringing up but also literally how your brain is wired and it’s innate. It takes all his insecurities and experiences as a black sheep and told him he was the wrong one in the situation, actually he was the weird one that should have complied rather than the other way around, so like it’ll take him some time to come to terms with that and replaying his lense with the newfound perspective and realizing all the hints were there and no one bothered to point him in the right direction.

Back to the golden trio real quick, I do think at some point though, his hatred for them was just fueled by more hatred rather than any real reason. Bullying them just became part of his routine, natural, and that’s that. Also, he liked joining the inquisitorial squad not only bc he likes power but also he’s just a sucker for rules and he doesn’t think anyone should be able to break them without consequence so he just liked being able to tell on people and “put them in their place”. “Rules are meant for everyone, and you’re not special.” kinda way of seeing things, even if the rules are negatively affecting everyone.

I won’t talk about sixth year or the war much because,, his being sad and scared and alone was pretty straightforward and average lmao war just sucks but, I think in an autistic reading it’s interesting to note how easily he can isolate himself and erase himself from people’s attention. I have no doubt Draco thrives and enjoys being in the spotlight and treated as a slytherin prince, but considering that and how little friends he actually has i think it’s interesting how he doesn’t have that much social presence or following. Since he’s undiagnosed, I do think eventually not understanding how others’ minds work and getting challenged on ethics and how the world is makes him very confused and that would play into his absolute misery & agony in sixth year, like making his confusion and dilemma not only moral and personal stakes but also existential like “wtf is going on, I understand nothing about the world I can’t begin to think about making such huge choices”.

Ultimately, his confidence and sense of superiority where nothing is ever his fault is what makes him look extroverted imo. He’s outgoing and takes up space because he doesn’t think he could do something to be self-conscious over, but that doesn’t mean he can read people well. I actually think he’s rather piss at reading people, or being liked, he doesn’t seem to be generally liked, what with his only two friends just following him around bc it’s just how things are. His interactions with others are often shallow, or he doesn’t realize when he has said something wrong so he doesn’t notice when people start disliking him. Or if they start being rude to him he gets all righteous and meets their dislike tenfolds. He really doesn’t get that saying “my father will hear about this” is seen as uncool. His pureblood etiquette lessons and practice at social parties and his time at Hogwarts getting slaps in the face and realizing he can be disliked definitely make me think he masks a lot, but I think it’s a very instinctive and unconscious thing he does and he doesn’t realize it. I was that way as a young kid unaware that people found me annoying lol so autistic introverted people definitely can be super outgoing and loud and take up space, especially if they just don’t have the mind to be self-conscious because they’re not aware they can come across wrong and be misunderstood or seen as whatever. Actually you know what? That really reminds me of book 1 Hermione as well, if you want to read about autistic Hermione Granger and look at the parallels I’m talking about read this article https://medium.com/@AlexGabriel/hermione-is-autistic-2682485aa4bf

And?? He’s a creative artistic little shit?? He draws, he made badges and even a song for his bullying efforts. I don’t know why but autistic people really tend to be artistically inclined so it’s worth noting

And yes because autism is hereditary, I think Narcissa would be autistic. She fits really well with the general portrait of autism in women. She’s definitely undiagnosed, and like with Draco strict pureblood society standards taught from a young age made it so she passed under the radar pretty easily. She’s reserved in a way that often make people overlook her, but she’s there, calculating, and without you noticing next thing you know she has you figured out. I think, while etiquette can be stifling, Narcissa would rather enjoy all the high society rules; knowing what to expect, being all proper and steering away from uncomfortable situations, and if she wants to make an exception or she doesn’t have the patience for something, because of her Malfoy & Black standing she has the power to put her foot down and be like “Yeah, I just did this thing, what about it?” with only a look and a fake smile. I imagine she’d be the kind to have a profound distaste for pointless/fake acts with people, you know, if the person isn’t the dark lord and her survival isn’t dependent on it. And if it’s in the Black family, I enjoy the thought of Sirius being autistic as well and... Okay guys I don’t enjoy likening my stigmatized difference to an unhinged evil murderer but it would make sense for Bellatrix. It would be Draco’s resentment at feeling different and stuck and unjustly treated times one hundred, and in comes Voldemort with a tantalizing social revolt manifesto. Also she gives 0 shit about making her facial expressions “normal” or passing and that would be pog if she wasn’t the literal worst. We don’t know much about Andromeda but from the fanon I’ve seen I would love the autstic cottagecore witch vibes, she can be the quiet gentleness to Narcissa’s cold calculating and Bellatrix’s wild carelessness. Lucius is outnumbered in the family and he’s very tired all of the time lmao

In conclusion, Draco Malfoy is an autistic kid that takes everything at face value and is socially dumb but book smart and has a superiority complex and has a severe lack of guidance & of positive figures in his life. He is lonely and confused and different and he’ll never learn why because everyone assumes the worst of him instead of trying to understand. Anyways I spent 2 hours writing this help. Btw not trying to justify his shitty behavior, it’s still shitty, but yeah Draco Malfoy is one angsty dude through and through and he deserved better than Lucius fcking Malfoy lowkey

Additionally, this post has a nice alternative perspective of it and included things like how quidditch/flying on a broome can be a very sensorially pleasing experience or his interest in some subjects or slicking back his hair and- hell yes https://theawkwardqueerturtle.tumblr.com/post/172861957048/kay-but-like

#harry potter #harry potter headcanon #Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #autistic draco malfoy #asd #Headcanon #autistic headcanon #narcissa malfoy #bellatrix black #mycontent #autism harry potter #neurodivergence

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pochipop · 2 years ago

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＃TIGER & BUNNY !! ♡ — LISTEN TO THE THUNDER (THOMAS TAURUS X READER).

#. synopsis! — an unlikely third party steps in to look after you when your fear of thunder is put to the test .

#. characters! — thomas .

#. warnings! — depictions of fear responses .

#. word count! — 1.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

You flinch at the sound of thunder rolling in from miles away, knowing it won’t be long before Sternbild is awash in pouring rain. If it were just the rain, you wouldn’t have any issues with it. In fact, if you were somewhere safe and dry, you’d likely find the soft pitter-patter of droplets against the roof or a nearby window quite comforting. Unfortunately, the premature dry lightning that cracks across the sky is swiftly followed by another clap of booming thunder, and despite your status as a hero who has often been praised for exhibits of bravery and courage, —you’re scared.

To make matters worse, it’s beyond humiliating, and it’s even harder to hide. Try as you might to keep track of when the next jarring sound will crescendo from the heavens, that’s much easier said than done when you’re technically still on the clock. A stack of paperwork sits half-done on your cluttered desk, the unfinished sheets practically begging for the application of ink. This has always been your least favorite part of being a hero. . .

In an attempt to drown out the noise, you shuffle around in your bag for your headphones, only to be left empty-handed. You rifle about in your desk’s drawer as well, —another fruitless endeavor. Sighing deeply, you sit back in your uncomfortable chair and card your fingers through your hair, just to give yourself some time to process the world as it is. Even in this weather, you’d much rather be out in action. Then, at least you’d have something substantial to distract yourself with.

You flinch again when Kotetsu stands up from his desk with a loud groan, stretching his arms above his head.

“How’re you coming along?” He asks, comically craning his neck in your direction.

“Well, I’m uh. . . Getting there, I guess,” you answer, tacking a giggle to the end of it, hoping that it'll cover your obvious nerves hanging out on display.

The elder man snickers at your uncertainty before nodding in understanding. If anyone gets the struggle of paperwork, —it’s definitely Kotetsu.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” he declares.

It hasn’t been that long since everyone had a late lunch, so you doubt he’s actually hungry, but going out to pick at an early dinner is certainly better than sitting at a desk staring at starkly white paper. He invites you to join him, but you politely decline the offer, digging your nails roughly into the skin of your palms when another clap of thunder, creeping ever closer, takes you by surprise.

Thankfully, Kotetsu isn’t the most perceptive man in the world, and your bristling easily goes unnoticed under his gaze.

“I’ll see you later, y/n,” he says, waving a kind goodbye as the office door slams shut behind him.

Your tense shoulders slump the moment he’s gone, a shaky breath escaping past your lips. Now that you're alone, the office feels colder, and somehow less safe than before. Still, the anxiety of being caught panicking over every loud noise has begun to simmer, now acting as little more than a muted hum that swims through your veins.

When you reach out, taking the next paper between your fingers to bring it closer, the sound of rainfall catches your attention. It was obvious that it was coming, but you hadn’t been expecting it to start so soon. Over the soft sounds of your ballpoint pen scribbling words down, you can hear the howling wind outside the office, and down below, people are scrambling about, popping open brightly colored and oddly patterned umbrellas. You just hope the rain stops by the time you’re free to clock out for the day, otherwise you’ll be getting drenched on the way back home.

A quick breath in hopes of steadying your nerves, steeling them for whatever comes next, and you add your signature to the bottom of this sheet before reaching for another. The process drones on, and you get a bit too comfortable when the thunder doesn’t roar out. The rain lightens, tapping against the windows with a gentler tempo, and you let yourself become complacent, telling yourself that the storm is tapering off, —that it’s on its final legs, and the weather will clear off soon enough.

Ignorance really is blissful.

You’ve found a solid rhythm and are swiftly making your way through the papers, only for your pen to run dry. You scribble it around on a random sticky note, but the tip leaves nothing more than light indents in its wake. Frustrated, but determined to finish the needed work in spite of it, you toss the bled-dry pen into the trashcan below your desk and reach out to grab another (in a different shade of blue, which is another upsetting feat within itself.)

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and your peace is overwhelmed by a clap of thunder so loud that you swear you could feel the Earth shake as it rolled through. Embarrassingly, a yelp bubbles up from the back of your throat, and in your rush to get your hands over your ears, your little mug of pens falls to the ground; shattering into pieces on the tiled floor.

The next thing you know, a warm hand is pressed firmly to your shoulder.

“Y/n?” Thomas says, —voice ebbing with concern in a way it never has before (at least not to your knowledge of him.) “Are you alright?”

You struggle to meet his gaze through the shameful haze that washes over you, but he shows no signs of judgment. Rather. . . He just seems to be concerned.

“Y-Yeah,” you nod quickly, “sorry if I worried you, I just. . .”

When it comes time for the explanation, you clam up. After all, it’s not the easiest thing in the world for a hero to admit that you too have fears, some of them even irrational or overblown by your own mind. Nevertheless, Thomas doesn’t seem to be looking down on you for it. He just seems concerned. There’s a warmth behind his eyes that you’ve never seen before, and it makes your heart pound a little faster.

“You’re scared of storms?” He inquires.

Still no hint of judgment to his question. It’s just that, —a question, and it’s clear that Thomas doesn’t mean anything bad by it.

“Not storms,” you clarify, “just thunder. I don’t mind rain, wind, lightning, but thunder. . . It’s loud. Too loud.”

He nods, and it’s not so much that he understands, but more that he can sympathize with your feelings. You’re not particularly close to Thomas, as he tends to stick to himself, but his presence in the moment is overwhelmingly comforting. This surprising show of tenderness is a bit jarring, but it’s more than welcome. He smells of something akin to rosewood and sage, and when his hand removes itself from your shoulder, your body mourns the loss of his warmth.

When your gaze falls to the floor, you’re quickly reminded of the shattered ceramic beside your desk, and you sigh softly.

“I’ll go get a broom and clean this up,” you say. “Thank you for checking on me though, Thomas.”

“Do you have an umbrella?” He asks in return.

“Ah, no. . .” you utter, shaking your head. “I didn’t expect it to rain today, so I didn’t think to bring one.”

“I’ll hang around for a while longer, then,” Thomas replies. “You can share mine.”

Your instinctual reaction was to say that his kind gesture wasn’t necessary, —that he didn’t need to go to any more trouble for you. Selfishly, however, you wanted to stay with him a while longer. Maybe it was just the rain making you a little sentimental, or maybe it was just him, in all the glory of this new light; but something inside of you really longed to keep hold of this moment. Even as another bang of thunder resounded from the sky.

“You’re sure you don’t mind waiting?” You ask instead.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t have any plans anyway,” he shrugs.

A part of you still wants to insist that he doesn’t have to, that you’re not his responsibility and he has no obligation to worry for you. But you can’t deny that it feels nice that he cares this way. He regards you with compassion, and it’s then that you regret all the preconceived notions you’d held about him up until this point.

“I’ll be as quick as I can be,” you assure.

“Take your time.”

He helps you locate a broom and a dustpan, then holds said dustpan steady as you sweep the shards from the mug into it. Thomas even sits close by when you return to your desk in order to finish up your paperwork, as if attempting to shield you from the world outside that still rumbles with thunder every now and again. In the shadow of his comfort, you finish your work with surprising efficiency. By the time you’re on your way home, the rain has tempered off to little more than a drizzle. Still, you’re happy Thomas is here. . . Not because he has an umbrella, but because it’s him, and you’ve come to learn in the span of a single late afternoon that Thomas has an incredibly gentle side to him that’s eternally intriguing.

“Thomas?” You say, hoping to capture his attention.

He glances over toward you, eyes softer than you tend to see them, and hums in acknowledgement,

“I just wanted to say thank you for being so nice,” you say, offering him a bashful smile. “I know it’s a bit silly to be scared of thunder, but. . . I’ve never liked it. I would hide in my closet when I was younger, hands clamped over my ears to drown the sounds out. Guess I never grew out of it.”

“You don’t have to say thank you,” he answers, tone characteristically void of any intense emotion, but full of an underlying warmth nonetheless. “Everyone’s afraid of something.”

“That’s true,” you nod. “I’ve just always struggled to tell people about it. I’m scared they’ll laugh and think it’s ridiculous.”

“It might seem that way to some, —but even people like that have their own flaws and insecurities. They’re hiding bad habits, weird interests, secrets. . .”

“Anyway, this is my building,” Thomas cuts himself off. “Take the umbrella with you, If you catch a cold, that just means more work for the rest of us.”

As he gives you the handle, still warm from the grip he’d had on it the whole way, your fingertips brush against his skin.

“Okay, thank you,” you smile softly. “Goodnight, Thomas.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, “get home safe.”

Your coy smile nearly turns into a beaming grin, but you manage to bite it back just in time as Thomas turns on his heels. In the muggy remains of daylight, you catch sight of his damp left shoulder, and you know right then and there that there’s truly no turning back.

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

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Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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adorerdraco · 4 years ago

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual !

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense.

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for.

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically.

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water.

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out.

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however.

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again.

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly.

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly.

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening.

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features.

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes.

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly.

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

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APOLOGIES IF I FORGOT ANYONEEE 🥺 BUT I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO IT WASNT TOOO EVENTFUL ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I GOT ACTION FOR THE NEXT PIECES THO JUST WAITTTT

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