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lily-fics-11 · 3 months

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I Can See You: Chapter 2 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission.

Chapter 2

Ellie’s behavior towards you fluctuates and you aren’t quite sure why. You go to her lacrosse game when you need to learn more about lacrosse, she ends up giving you a private lesson.

Word count: 4k

CW: Profanities, reference to sexual situations and feelings, innuendos, slight intimacy, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

Ellie, though in need of a few reminders, holds up her end of the bargain. Sure, she is naturally flirtatious but the two of you start to become… friends? She genuinely wants to get to know you and becomes more comfortable being open about her own life.

However, as your friendship continues to grow, you can’t help but want her as more than that. You gave the ultimatum, but it wasn't long before you regretted it. Even though it was the right thing to do.

Seeing Ellie in the hallway goes from inspiring admiration to longing begrudgingly. Pangs of jealousy spike when you see her talking to other girls.

With a little probing, Ellie starts to share her academically oriented interests, and she wants to teach you about them since you’ve taught her so much. You started by asking if there were any sections of a museum that she likes. Turns out that she has an affinity for dinosaurs. “You should watch Jurassic Park with me. I could point out every type of dinosaur for you,” she declared confidentially.

You smile and shake your head. “Ellie, you can’t just ask me on a movie date. Professional, remember?”

She raises her eyebrows in shock but you can see in her eyes that she absolutely intended it that way. “I’m not asking you on a date! I'm trying to educate you on a subject that actually matters.”

“So that’s not just one of your tricks, telling a girl you are going to teach her about dinosaurs so you can impress her? Get her close enough to kiss?” You are frowning, not wanting Ellie to see you as some girl to put her moves on.

She looks a little disgusted. “Do you think girls are impressed by dinosaur facts? That would be a tyrannosaurus wreck.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I would be impressed.”

“You’re nothing like the girls I usually date.”

“Good.”

In an attempt to get Ellie further invested you ask her about her dream job. You expected her to say professional athlete, but she actually wants to be an astronaut.

“I like to go to the planetarium, you should come with me some time,” she offers nonchalantly.

“I’m not so sure about that Ellie, sounds like a date to me.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve never dated a girl that would want to go to the planetarium.”

You roll your eyes back at her, but also laugh. “Maybe you are dating the wrong kind of girl.”

“Then maybe you are the right…” she stutters, “right about the girls I date.”

Things go on that way over the next few tutoring sessions before there is a shift in Ellie’s behavior. She is suddenly quiet, and even a bit awkward. You wonder if she’s tired of being friendly and doesn’t know how to say it. The weird thing is that you see her looking back at you when you watch her in the hallway. She’s never done that before, and only started after acting differently.

While working on her Spanish homework one day the silence is driving you crazy. You can’t help but say something.

“You have nothing, I don’t know… random, to say?”

“Random?” She questions nervously.

“You haven’t asked ‘donde está la biblioteca’ for no reason. You haven’t answered any of the questions with ‘vamos a la play, a mi me gusta baila.’”

“I guess I’ve just been… feeling things. About you…” she stutters, “what you’ve said. I really could do well if I focused enough. I’m going to college to play lacrosse, but doing something I actually want doesn't need to end there.”

Ellie won’t carry a conversation. Nonetheless, you continue to catch her looking at you, anytime or anywhere you see her. She will force down a smile, look away, and pretend like it didn’t happen. You try to stay in your lane but you end up confronting her.

You stare her down until she makes eye contact, she looks a little startled. “You know I can see you, right?”

Her cheeks go pink. “Well I am sitting across from you. Best seat in the house.” She laughs but it is forced and fake.

You cross your arms. “Not like that. Actually looking at me, here, and in the hallways.”

Ellie’s eyes nervously dart around the room. “I like to be aware of my surroundings, I look at everything.”

That makes your eyes squint and your nose scrunch. “I see you looking at me, which would be whatever, but it started after you stopped talking to me. It doesn’t make any sense!”

Ellie huffs and runs a hand through her hair. “I’ve just got a lot going on. The first game of the season is coming up. I’m grateful that I’ve gotten to… uh, get your help. And when I do work I get nervous because I, uh, know there is a lot of pressure for me to do well. I hope you know that I,” she clears her throat, “appreciate you.”

You unfold your arms and busy your hands with papers on the table. “I’m sorry Ellie, I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’ll leave you alone from now on, it’s none of my business.”

“Please don’t leave me alone,” she mumbles, her green eyes glassy. You’ve never seen her like this and you wonder if anyone ever has.

“I’m here for you Ellie, I’m not going anywhere,” you assure her and she snaps back into reality. She hurriedly gets back to her work, speaking no unnecessary words or making any eye contact for the rest of the period.

The day before the first game of the season your ears perk up when you overhear Ellie’s name in the chatter coming from the table next to you during lunch.

“Anna is upset because Ellie doesn’t flirt with her in class anymore,” one girl shares.

“Ellie as in Ellie Williams?” Another questions.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t sound like her.”

“I heard that if she doesn’t fix her grades soon she won’t be allowed to play anymore.”

You would like to say your initial thought upon hearing this was being proud of Ellie. However, the first thing that crossed your mind was an embarrassing satisfaction, knowing that she’s giving less attention to other girls. Even if you aren’t receiving that sort of attention in turn

Later that day you meet with Ellie. You aren’t going to say anything flat out, but you are proud of her, and wonder why she hasn’t mentioned anything. Even if things are awkward, you hope she knows that you care.

Ellie is on high alert, which makes sense, the first game of the season is looming over her. Between subjects you casually inquire, “how have things been going in class?”

“Uh, fine I guess,” she mumbles, not looking up.

“Do you think tutoring is, I don’t know, helping you focus?” You question. “Maybe understand things better as they are being taught?”

“Well it is what made me want to stop…” she hesitates to finish the sentence. “Doing things the way I was.”

Your face lights up. “So you are paying more attention?”

Her posture slumps. “I try. But sometimes I think a lot. Get lost in my own head.”

“I understand that it’s easy to get lost in thought, but doing your best to listen to your teachers could make things a lot easier for you.” You do your best to be gentle and encouraging.

A smile starts to creep up on Ellie’s face. “I don’t need to listen to them, I have you. You are way more attrac- more accommodating than any teacher I’ve ever had.”

You giggle a little. “I appreciate the compliment, Ellie, but they are the professionals.”

She purses her lips. “It makes sense why you would have faith in them. They have faith in you. They’ve never believed in me.”

Your face drops hearing her say that. “For whatever it may be worth, I believe in you.”

Ellie’s eyes widen and her freckled cheeks blush. “No one has said that to me about anything other than lacrosse in a long time, except Joel.”

“Who’s Joel?” You ask curiously.

“My dad.” She informs you with a small smile, you can tell she must really care about him by the sparkle in her eyes.

“You call him Joel?”

Ellie runs a hand through her hair. “It’s… complicated.”

That’s not your business and you are happy she’s already shared so much with you. “Well you should listen to Joel, he knows what he’s talking about.”

Ellie goes quiet for the rest of your time together and you don’t push her not to be.

As she is leaving you call for her to wait. She turns towards you and her green eyes are wide and expectant, there is a certain glimmer in them that you haven’t seen before.

“Good luck with your game tomorrow, Ellie.”

On the day of the game you can’t help but stare at Ellie more than usual in her suit and tie. The team always dresses up on game day. She catches you looking and licks her lips with raised eyebrows, clearly pleased with herself, before returning her attention to the friends she is walking with.

Lacrosse seems to be haunting you when your gym teacher announces that it’s the next thing you are going to be covering.

The teacher hardly goes over anything before splitting the class into two teams and throwing everyone into a game. Ellie plays with grace and ease, not even the other lacrosse players can compare. You try to watch what she’s doing, and that’s obviously the only reason you are looking at her, to try and see if you can figure out how this sport works. But that is really hard to do when you are worried about getting hit in the face with a flying ball or swinging stick.

In the locker room after class you hear a few girls giggling and talking about how they can’t wait to see Ellie play this afternoon. It hits you that it would be the perfect opportunity to see how lacrosse is supposed to be played without risking your personal safety. You could study the game, but just the game. Nothing else. At least that’s what you are telling yourself.

After the final bell of the day you hang around school before the game starts, with your friend Nicole. You convinced her to come to the game with you. She doesn’t seem to have any suspicions that you may have ulterior motives for attending. You start reading the chapters needed for one of your classes tomorrow to pass the time.

When you get to the field the bleachers are pretty packed, rivaling the crowd you’ve seen (only on other students' social media stories), at football games.

You and Nicole take a seat far to one side that isn’t too densely packed.

The team takes the field and you spot Ellie immediately, you would recognize that stance anywhere. She is wearing number 11, which happens to be your lucky number, on the opposing team's 30 yard line. You hadn’t planned this, but she is basically in line with where you are sitting. Taking a closer look you see a tattoo on her forearm, which definitely doesn’t have you feeling any type of way.

You recognize Abby Anderson wearing number 7, from her phenomenal physique. Ellie isn’t the only girl on the team you are attracted to. Abby faces off with a tall girl from the other team in the middle of the field. When the referee blows the whistle their two sticks, and the ball, shoot up into the air. Abby jumps higher and secures the ball for her team. She passes it right to Ellie, who makes a quick getaway, and effortlessly scores before 30 seconds has gone by. You don’t really know how this all works, but from the way the crowd roars that must be impressive.

The first half goes by rather quickly. You would like to say you were engrossed by all the action, but it was number 11 that was consuming your thoughts. In your defense a lot of the game centered around her, she scored 3 out of the 4 goals for her team, they are winning 4 - 2, and had a ton of assists.

As the team takes the field for the second half your eyes find Ellie immediately, and you could swear that she was looking back at you. She is too far away to tell for sure, and wearing goggles, making it easy to fall prey to delusion. The game starts but Ellie doesn’t move until the ball is passed to her and it wizzes past her head while she is still facing your direction. She snaps out of being distracted and manages to recover the ball. Did she actually notice you?

“Get it together Williams!” the coach yells at her and that only makes Ellie run faster. She rolls around a defender and scores a goal. That one hiccup didn’t stop Ellie from performing with near perfection the rest of the game. She does, however, glance in your direction every once in a while. But your head must be messing with you, right?

Ellie scores 4 more goals in the second half, leading her team to victory with a final score of 12 - 5.

“You are tutoring her, right?” Nicole asks as you clear out of the stands with the rest of the spectators.

“Who?” You ask, playing dumb and praying she didn’t notice the trance number 11 had you in for the last hour and a half.

“Ellie Williams.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply, acting as natural as possible.

“She really is as good as everyone says she is, I hope you can help her stay off the bench.”

Nicole doesn’t try to discuss Ellie any further and you thank the universe for its mercy. You part ways after exiting the bleachers because you forgot a textbook in your locker. While making your way back to the school you spot Ellie talking to a ruggedly handsome man. He looks slightly older than you would expect an 18 year old’s father to be, but that must be Joel. You don’t spend too long looking at him, not when Ellie looks so hot now that her goggles are off. Sweat is glistening on her forehead and her short ponytail is tousled with a piece in the front falling across her face. You shake your head to rattle the thoughts of what other activities make her look like that.

When you finally get back to your locker you pull out the textbook and notice that the bookmark you had in it is gone, it must have fallen out. While you can still recall the images on the page you left off on you flip through to find it. Then you get stuck in the hallway even longer when your mom calls you, questioning whether or not you are going to be home for dinner, and what you want to eat.

By the time you make it out to the parking lot there aren’t too many cars left, just those of the lacrosse players who are starting to trickle out of the locker room. You start driving, and as you pass the door Ellie has just stepped out of it. You accidentally make eye contact with her, and she flashes you a devilish grin. In turn you force a smile through your embarrassment and quickly look back ahead of you, praying she didn’t notice how red she has turned your face.

There is a mischievous fire burning in Ellie William’s eyes when she enters the library for her tutoring session the next day, with a confidence she has recently lacked. “I can't believe you came to watch me play, tutor girl.”

You roll your eyes. “I was there to study.”

“Study what? My physique?” Ellie licks her lips, obviously trying to draw your attention there. “I do look pretty good in the uniform. It shows off my muscles, and my tattoo. Plus green really is my color.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to convince her that her charm isn’t working on you, even though it is. “I was studying lacrosse, for gym.”

Ellie’ nose scrunches up, quite adorably. “Why would you need to study lacrosse?”

“We are being graded on participation, but it’s hard to participate when you have no clue what you are doing.”

Her pupils expand instantaneously and her lips part. “You would be a little too powerful if you were able to play sports, you are already so smart.” She turns away and you swear you hear her mumble “especially when you look like that.”

You bite your lip for a moment, almost giving in to the energy that Ellie is projecting. “They don’t offer tutoring for gym class. I figured watching an actual game would be beneficial.”

Something wicked, yet playful, flickers in her striking eyes. “I could tutor you.”

You start to panic, spending more time than necessary with this attractive girl can't mean anything but trouble. “That won’t be necessary,” you rush to say.

“Oh come on, would you turn down the chance to be tutored in physics by Newton?”

“Are you calling yourself the Isaac Newton of lacrosse?”

“That’s just the first analogy I could come up with. It will be so much easier for you if I show you what to do. Since you won’t let me teach you about dinosaurs and space you could at least let me teach you this. You would never want to go on a sports date, so I can help you out and keep things professional.”

“It would be really helpful to have someone show me exactly what to do.”

“My practice ends tomorrow at noon, come at 1, that way no one sees us together.” Ellie passes you her phone with her contacts open so you can add yourself in. “I’ll teach you how to shoot your shot.”

“You know what Williams, I’ll see you then.”

When you get to the field Ellie is alone, waiting for you, looking undeniably sexy. Her legs are casually spread and her elbows rest on the bleacher bench above hers. The sun has kissed her face wondrously, though her cheeks and nose are burnt a little pink. And her hair, messy from playing hard, you wish you were the one making it look like that.

Ellie saunters down to the field with all her things, and the extra lacrosse stick she had said she would bring for you in your brief text message exchange. You reach out for the stick right away, not leaving room for any funny business.

She looks a little taken aback at first, but smiles playfully while hungrily looking you up and down. You can see her try to focus in when she suggests “why don’t we start with you showing me how you hold the stick.”

You try to take an athletic stance, legs bent at the knees, feet shoulder width apart. You at least know that much. You fiddle with the stick a little before taking your final guess at how to grasp it. “Is this correct?” you ask.

Ellie blinks rapidly and one corner of her mouth turns up. “Gotta be honest with you tutor girl, not even close. I have to ask, what were you paying attention to during the game if you didn't no even see how to hold the stick?” She looks you in the eyes, seductively. Like she knows exactly what had your attention.

Your mouth scrunches to one side as you try to find an excuse. “The ball!” you blurt out. “I got distracted following where the ball was.”

Ellie stands with her hands on her hips, chin up in the air, looking way too pleased with herself. “I’m sure. Let me show you how to hold the stick.”

You expect her to show you with her own stick. Instead, Ellie gets recklessly close and puts her hands over yours to reposition them. Your heart rate shoots up and you thank god the long fingers of her veiny hands aren’t too close to where she can feel your pulse booming. Ellie remains in your personal space long enough for you to smell her cologne. It’s pretty strong, like she just sprayed it. The scent attracts you to her more than usual being in an unusual proximity. It's earthy, woodsy, and suits her well. You are distracted by her tattoo when she pulls away, it draws your eyes, and up close you notice that it’s covering a scar.

Ellie clears her throat but doesn’t step away. “Now that you’ve got that, show me how you cradle.”

“Why don’t you just show me how you do it?” Being able to feel the heat radiating off her body on this cool spring day, her warm skin touching yours, it’s a dangerous game. It will only leave you longing for more. However, watching her strong hands and muscular arms in action can give you at least some satisfaction, without too much temptation.

Ellie demonstrates how to cradle the ball before letting you try. You hold the stick and swivel your body.

“Hold on, it’s gotta come from your wrists, not your torso. Ears to nose.” Before you can correct yourself she grabs your shoulders, more tender than you would expect the rough and tough Ellie Williams to be. She could have remained an arms length away, but she is nearly pressed up against you. When she tells you “I’m going to keep your body in place so that you can only move the way I want you to,” you can feel her breath on your neck, creating a ripple of goosebumps.

Your breath hitches and you bite your lip so that you don’t audibly gasp. “Are you going to give it a try?” She snickers after you had taken time to bring back your thoughts from the dirty place she clearly wanted them to go. You can hear the smirk in her voice, she knows exactly what she is doing.

“Yeahhhh,” you grumble before you start. She gives you a few corrections as you practice and eventually you get the hang of it. You step away first and turn to face her.

“I’ve gotta say Williams, I’ve been on dates where I’ve been touched less.”

She raises an eyebrow and scratches her head. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

You cross your arms. “Touching my hands, holding my shoulders…”

“Let’s just say it’s easier to cradle you through this. I wouldn’t do it if I had no reason to, professional was the deal. But I’m not going to act like it’s absolutely necessary, or that I don’t enjoy it. But, if you had let me teach you about dinosaurs I wouldn’t have an excuse to do this. Though I wouldn’t complain if you got scared and let me put my arm around you. I want to steal a kiss but I’m not going to.”

“If this is the easiest way to get this done, so be it,” you huff, trying to disguise your excitement.

Ellie goes on to teach you how to throw and catch. Eventually you can do those a few times in a row when tossing the ball back and forth to each other.

When you realize how long the two of you have spent together you tell her “I think this is enough… enough to get me a grade that won’t skew my GPA.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have anything to do until tonight.” Ellie looks at her wrist like she is checking a watch, even though she isn’t wearing one. “I don’t mind taking my time with you.”

Your face is burning, and not from the exercise. “I appreciate that. I’ve got a lot of work to do though. Thank you Ellie, I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“Anything for you, tutor girl.”

(Shout out to my sister Nicole for being my lacrosse expert)

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @dinanellie, @everegretseverything, @mikellie, @lamolaine

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 4 months

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I'm Setting Off, But Not Without My Muse

I'll Write Your Name Chapter 7

Roy Kent x Latina!Popstar!Reader

4.8k words

Warnings: Language, heavy kissing, pining

Keeley lounged on Roy’s couch, looking comfortable and familiar with crossed her legs and messy hair. She smiled when Roy handed her the soda he’d brought from the kitchen, throwing Roy back to all those lazy days they’d spent together on that couch, days of kisses and laughter and love. Days he missed.

“My sister should be here soon,” he murmured as he threw himself down on the couch beside Keeley. “Remind me what you and Phoebe are doing again?” He resisted the urge to grab her hand or press his palm to her thigh, the way he used to.

Ignoring or missing Roy’s pining, Keeley grinned and sipped her soda. “We’re going to a museum,” she explained slowly. “And we’re going to take turns closing our eyes and trying to draw the art we see. Whoever does the best wins, and loser pays for lunch.”

“Where the fuck did Phoebe get money from?” Roy snorted.

Keeley blinked at him, as if it was obvious. “You, you dolt. Girl’s a little millionaire with all your swearing.”

The sound of knocking at his door stopped Roy from retorting; not that he had a defense, to be fair. His wallet was constantly empty thanks to Pheobe. Maybe the knock at the door saved him from admitting Keeley was right, he thought to himself as he opened it.

Those familiar eyes sparkled at him. “Hey, Roy.” She stepped inside, looking comfortable in a simple sweater and jeans. The moment she saw Keeley on the couch, it was like a switch flipped. Her hand was on Roy’s hip, tugging him to herself so she could plant a lingering kiss to his cheek. “Missed you,” she hummed.

Roy froze. Even after all this time, all the kisses, he still had moments where her seemingly easy affection caught him off-guard, rendering him frozen like a statue. This was definitely one of those moments, with his ex-girlfriend on his couch watching with quirked eyebrows and amused eyes.

Just as suddenly, she stepped back and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Shit,” she chuckled awkwardly, her eyes focusing on Keeley again. “I’m so sorry. I forgot I don’t have to do that in front of you.” She adjusted Roy’s shirt where she’d grabbed him. “My bad, Kent.”

“Don’t stop on my account,” Keeley teased, shooting them a wink. “Kiss him all you want. I doubt he’d complain too much.”

“Keeley-” Roy started to growl, wondering if both women could spot his heavy blush and the way his fists clenched at his side.

But Keeley wasn’t focused on that. Instead, she patted the spot next to her, urging the popstar to sit beside her. “So, have you two planned your holiday yet? I know Lanie’s been on your ass about it.”

With a glance at Roy, the singer settled by Keeley, noticeably stiff compared to the former model. “Uh, Roy found some spot in this little lakeside town,” she said quietly. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her sound so timid. What the fuck had her so shy? “That’s why I’m here,” she added quickly, eyes on Keeley. “So we can finish planning everything.”

“That sounds lovely,” Keeley said in a soothing voice, almost as though she was trying to comfort the singer. “I think you and Roy-o are going to have a great time.” She shot Roy another wink. “Sounds very romantic.”

Roy cleared his throat. “I think it’ll be a great writing spot,” he said. “She can focus on the album, I’ll get some reading done.”

There was that smile, that small grin that made Roy soften. “I’m excited,” she admitted to Keeley, although her eyes were still on Roy. “If nothing else, it’s nice to get away before the tour begins. Because now, with this album, I’m not going to get to relax much before it starts. At least I’ll get to relax a little on this trip.”

“Or not relax,” Keeley hummed with a wink.

Roy didn’t know what he hated more: Keeley implying he’d be interested in anyone other than her, or feeling embarrassed in front of his fake girlfriend. Probably the latter, he realized when he saw the alarmed look that appeared on that pretty face. Now she was going to spend their little getaway worried that Roy was going to make some sort of move on her, he panicked with silent groan.

Fucking Keeley.

“Shit, sunshine, what’s in this one? Bricks?”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the admittedly heavy backpack out of Roy’s hands. “Old notebooks,” I corrected. “I’ve gotta dig through these things to find some usable lyrics, remember?”

Roy’s little grunt was the only answer I got. He loaded my suitcase into his giant black car before taking back the backpack and tossing it inside. He squinted at my empty hands for a moment before gazing back at my house. “I made sure the place was pet-friendly, you know.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, cocking my head. “What, did Keeley make you rent a dog for our vacation? Make us look all domestic?”

“No,” he huffed, obviously fighting the growing curve in his mouth. “For Sydney. I figured you’d be bringing her along.”

My heart melted as I blinked at Roy. I knew he liked my cat- and she, amazingly enough, liked him in return- but I wouldn’t have expected him to include her in our plans. Most of my real boyfriends tolerated Syd well enough, choosing to mostly engage in mutual indifference. Roy, on the other hand, seemed to genuinely like having Sydney curled up in his lap during Scrabble games and was keen to feed her if he woke up before me.

Stupid thing better not get too attached, I thought bitterly as I mumbled something about going to pack Sydney’s things really quickly. He won’t be around forever.

As I gathered some cat food and toys and urged Sydney into her travel carrier, I wondered if I was worried about Sydney or myself. With Roy’s help, I packed the cat and her things into his car, reminding myself all the while that this was a business trip of sorts. We were going for publicity, I scolded myself as I buckled into the passenger seat. This was for work.

My reminders were interrupted when Roy turned on his car and my own voice suddenly filled the vehicle.

The tips of Roy’s ears were red as he quickly turned off the car stereo. “Phoebe,” he mumbled simply. “She always turns it up way too fucking loud.”

I fought the smile that was desperately trying to break through. “Sure, Kent,” I chuckled. “You weren’t blasting my song on your way to pick me up. You absolutely didn’t sing every word at the top of your lungs. Totally believe you.”

Damn, why did he have to wear bashfulness so well? “Fuck off, sunshine.”

Slouching in my seat and defeated by the smile on my face, I turned to him. “What is your favorite song by me? If you don’t mind me asking.”

His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he turned off my street, off on our little adventure. “D’you think I have a favorite?”

“Of course you do,” I scoffed. “I saw the way you sang Our Song. You’re a bigger fan than you let on, Kent.”

“Touche.” He bobbled his head as he stared straight ahead. “You’ve got some really good songs. Nothing New was phenomenal. I’ve listened to it a few times and it just leaves me fucking breathless.” A frown crossed his face. “But it might be Happiness,” he said quietly.

My eyes traced his profile. “Why that one?”

He sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s mature,” he said slowly. “Accepting the end of this relationship, acknowledging the good and bad of it all, hoping for forgiveness that goes both ways.” He sighed. “I’ve got to admit, I used to think you were just… fluff. I mean, Pheebs always likes your sugary pop stuff, that’s what’s on the radio. But after Nothing New-” He shook his head. “I went and listened to some of your other things, and fuck, you’re a great songwriter.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes. “And I liked the Gatsby references, sunshine.”

I tried to tell myself that my warm cheeks were the result of feeling humbled by kind praise, not feeling flustered because Roy was telling me he liked my song. “Thanks,” I murmured. I picked at the hem of my shirt. “It was kind of a hard song to write. Emotionally, I mean. But it felt really good once I’d finished recording it.”

“I bet,” was all he said.

The rest of the drive was calmly quiet. I rested my head against the window, watching the city fade away and become green, green, and more green. Roy didn’t say much, other than ask how Sydney and I were doing. After a while, I took out a notebook and began jotting down some words, words that just kind of flowered onto the page before I could even really comprehend what they were saying.

Roy eyed me curiously as I scribbled. “Lyrics?” he asked simply.

I nodded, scribbling down the last couple of words. “Just a few lines,” I admitted. “Who knows if it’ll become anything. But you never know, so I’ve gotta write everything down. Sometimes the silliest little lines can become something special.”

“Read it to me.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the words I’d jotted down. “It’s just a couple little scribbles-”

“Come on, sunshine.”

Unable to say no to his gentle tone, I cleared by throat and slowly read, “Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark… show me the places where the others gave you scars… Now this is an open-shut case, I guess I should’ve known by the look on your face… Every bait-and-switch was a work of art.”

When I dared to look at Roy, he wore a large, infectious grin. “What the fuck,” he chuckled, smacking the steering wheel. “What kind of a mind d’you got in that pretty little head? You just came up with that right now? Out of fucking nowhere?” He let out a sharp breath. “Fucking amazing.”

His words were overwhelming, drawing a deep blush to my cheeks. He sounded so real, so genuine as he praised the couple of lines I’d jotted down. I decided to believe he really meant it. Friends could gush over each other like that- right?

I also decided to ignore him calling me pretty.

“Thanks, Kent,” I murmured, slouching into my seat. “Dunno what it’ll become but…”

“Well, whatever it is,” he said, “it’ll be fucking great.”

He knew he’d guessed right when he saw the smile on her face at the sight of the instrument. She turned to him, eyebrows raised and cat in hand.

It was a nice house. Bright and airy with a gorgeous view of a lake, a couple of cozy bedrooms, a sweet little kitchen, and, most importantly, an inviting sitting room with a piano. As soon as Roy saw a photo of the instrument online, he booked the house, figuring it would be a perfect spot for some songwriting.

“There’s a piano,” she said simply.

Roy nodded, warmth in his chest as he took in her pleased reaction. “Figured between that and your guitar, you’d be all set,” he explained. “Is it fine? The piano? I didn’t know what kind you like, or if this one’s any good.” He was blabbering now, suddenly anxious that he’d done just the wrong thing.

But she shook her head, letting Sydney go so she could approach the little bench. She sat and began plucking at the keys, creating a simple little melody that Roy felt like he knew. She glanced at him, the music never stopping. “You ever play?”

“No,” Roy scoffed. “Only thing I’ve ever played is football.” Not knowing what came over him, he strolled over and sat beside her, watching her fingers move with ease over the ivory. “Is this one of your songs?”

She nodded and opened her mouth, letting her sweet voice fill the house.

Roy nodded along. He’d heard this one before; it always sounded so childish when he heard it over the speakers, and half the time he skipped right over it, ignoring Phoebe’s complaints about ever skipping her songs. But maybe it was hearing the authoress in person, or maybe it was how down-to-earth it sounded like this, or maybe it was the way the setting sun was hitting her pretty face, whatever it was, Roy thought the song sounded nothing short of charming.

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

"Wanna hang out?"

Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note

Sleeping in tents

It's nice to have a friend

She turned to him, still playing, and nodded to the keys. “You try.”

“Fuck no, I-”

All it took was her raising her eyebrows expectantly, and Roy found his fingers touching the cool keys. She paused, freezing her fingers and nodding down at them.

“Set your fingers like this,” she instructed. When Roy had taken the same position, she looked at his face. “Just copy my movements.”

She moved her fingers slowly, delicately, and Roy did his best to mirror them. He hit some wrong keys, and he was so stilted and awkward, but he created something resembling music. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders started to dissipate, all the embarrassment in his head gone, making room in his brain for the simple melody they created together. A quiet, almost domestic bliss settled over the two of them, the kind of quiet that didn’t need a single word. He tried to remember the last time he felt such a calmness; probably with Keeley. He didn’t realize how much he missed it, just the pleasure of someone’s company.

And Roy definitely wasn’t complaining about the glowing little smiles she offered him.

It was nice to have a friend, indeed.

It was the sun, I told myself as I forced my eyes back to my notebook. I was suddenly feeling warm because I was lying out in the sun. That had to be it.

The sun felt good on my face, warm and inviting. I was supposed to be diving through an old notebook and searching for usable lyrics, but Roy kept distracting me. Not on purpose, of course. He just stretched out on our picnic blanket, eyes on the book he’d brought along, pausing only to take a sip of beer or grab a piece of fruit to pop into his mouth. But I couldn’t stop glancing over at him. He looked so incredibly relaxed, kind of like he had the night of his championship celebration, and he had this tiny grin on his face as he read, as if he was amused by the book in his hands. And then I noticed his hands, how strong and firm they looked holding the book open. And today he’d opted to wear shorts, showing off muscular legs I rarely got to see.

“Alright there?”

That gruff voice had me snapping back to reality. “Fine,” I choked out, shaking away thoughts that I really shouldn’t have been having. “How’s your book?”

Roy shrugged and flipped through the pages. “It’s good. I’ve read it before, but it’s nice to revisit?” He raised an eyebrow. “Like you and Gatsby, I guess.”

My eyes scanned the cover I hadn’t paid much attention to earlier. “A Wrinkle in Time,” I read aloud. “I’ve heard that’s a good one.”

“You could borrow it sometime. If you want.” Roy grinned. “When you’re not being pressured to write an entire album of love song for a man you’re not really in love with.” He shook his head, missing way I squirmed at the ‘L’ word. “Freaking Keeley, making you do this. You’re a trooper for saying yes, you know that, sunshine?”

“It’s fine,” I assured him with a little chuckle. “Who doesn’t love a challenge?” I paused, picking at the grass at the edge of the blanket. “Speaking of Keeley…” I let out a little breath, suddenly even warmer in the face. “She didn’t, er, send you any messages recently, did she?”

Something in Roy’s face fell for a flicker of a moment before relaxing again. He quickly shook his head. “No. Did she send you something?”

“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes, pretending my heart wasn’t slamming in my chest. “She says we’re both way too hot to be so… chaste when we’re out together.” I offered an awkward grimace. “She wants us to, like, get caught being hot and heavy.”

The choking sound sputtering out of Roy’s mouth had my face burning even worse than it already was. “Oh.” He blinked a few times, the gears in his head almost visibly turning. “Do you… want to make out then?”

Despite the absolute mortification I was feeling, I couldn’t help laughing at his words. “Jeez, Roy, that’s so high school of you,” I managed between chuckles.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he finally joined me in laughter. “Fuck me, that was terrible, wasn’t it?” He shook his head, offering a sheepish grin. “But I mean…” His eyes shifted somewhere over my shoulder. “That papps Keeley tipped off is over there somewhere. Probably has a clear view of us.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unless…”

The laughter left my lungs as I looked into those brown eyes, just as unsure as I suddenly felt. This shouldn’t be difficult; we’d been kissing each other for a couple of months now. And I’d filmed plenty of kissing scenes for music videos, I reminded myself. Steamy ones, even. Surely, I could manage to get a little heavy with my supposed boyfriend, couldn’t I?

“Anything for the job,” I joked, suddenly hating the way that had seemed to become our motto.

“For the job,” Roy echoed with a smirk.

Without warning, he grabbed my hips and tugged me onto his lap. A surprised squeal slipped past my lips, prompting a chuckle to rumble in his chest. His hands skittered up and down my back as he smiled up at me.

“This alright?” he hummed. His eyes were on my mouth.

I managed to nod as I rested my hands on his shoulders. “Sure.” I hoped my voice was casual and unbothered.

“Good.”

His lips felt so comfortable against mine, warm and familiar now. I let myself settle onto his lap and closed my eyes, focusing on being as natural as possible. Roy pulled me close, chest to chest, until I felt his heartbeat against my body; he could probably feel mine slamming against my ribs. He tasted like the beer and fruit he’d been enjoying all afternoon, a beautiful, summery combination I wanted to taste forever. Without thinking, I gave a gentle grind against his lap. His grip tightened on me as a curious little hum vibrated against my mouth.

My body was buzzing, on fire, drunk on Roy’s mouth and hands and body. While the little voices in the back of my mind kept reminding me this was an act, this was all pretend, the rest of my mind was screaming Roy’s name, wanting to take him back to the house and make this real.

Taking him back to the house felt like an especially good idea when his hands began to slide down my back, lower and lower.

“Should I…?” he rasped against my lips.

I nodded, refusing to open my eyes and break the spell I was under. “Probably.”

Roy’s hands cupped my ass tentatively, as if he was waiting for me to snap at him; he was probably remembering the night we “met”, where I warned him about his hand placement. Oh, how far we’d come since that night of snarking at each other and trying not to roll our eyes. Trying to assure him he was fine, I pressed down against him again, swallowing back my reflexive groan when I felt the beginning of a bulge against my increasingly needy parts.

Apparently he understood the permission I was giving him, because Roy’s grip on my ass tightened, fingers digging into the material of my jeans. I tried to remember the last time I’d been kissed like this- in public no less. It felt like something was waking up inside me. No, it wasn’t arousal from the kiss, from Roy’s hands on my body like he wanted me. It was a feeling that was settling deep in the pit of my stomach, a feeling that was making itself right at home as a melody and words began to bloom in my mind.

Dammit, it might be love.

For the last few decades, Roy Kent had spent plenty of time around impressive people. Politicians and rich people who made him want to barf. Actresses and models that looked good on his arm and in his bed. And, of course, some of the most famous, talented athletes in history, athletes he was proud to play against and stand beside. Hell, he was a legend in his own right, something he seemed to conveniently forget.

But he couldn’t help being impressed watching an artist at work, something he hadn’t had the opportunity to witness before now. He was a little nervous for her heading into this holiday, wondering if she’d be able to work under so much pressure. But once they arrived, it was like a dam had broken. She was constantly in her notebooks, scribbling furiously and scrambling through old pages. Or she was strumming away at her guitar or picking at the piano, creating melodies that Roy found himself humming as he relaxed around the house.

She didn’t play much for him, just little snippets here and there that she quickly critiqued and went back to work on. Still, he kept asking her to play him something; but they weren’t ready she insisted. Roy didn’t care; he found himself craving pretty tunes and a prettier voice.

A couple days into the trip, he was in the little kitchen, making some dinner while Sydney padded around, meowing up at him and drowning out the twinkling sounds of the piano. He mumbled back to the cat, reminding her that her owner would not be happy if he snuck her a treat without checking first. But the cat kept chattering, so Roy finally threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine,” he huffed, unable to believe he was having a conversation with a cat. “Let’s go ask your mum if you can have a bit of fucking carrot.” He scooped up Sydney and let her climb onto his shoulders- a spot he had quickly realized she liked- and made his way into the sitting room.

She looked so comfortable in her sweats, her hair up in a sloppy hairstyle. She was so engrossed in her music, she didn’t notice Roy leaning in the doorway, a ghost of a smile on his face as he listened to her quietly sing.

Sydney’s little meow caught her attention. She stopped playing and looked up at the duo in the doorway, eyes a little wide. “Oh, hey,” she chuckled, smoothing down her wild hair. “Sorry, too loud?”

I spy with my little tired eye

Tiny as a firefly

A pebble that we picked up last July

Down deep inside your pocket

We almost forgot it

Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?

They said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Not at all,” Roy assured her, reaching up to scratch Sydney behind the ear. Damn cat, interrupting his private concert. “That’s really fucking nice. You should keep going. I’d love to hear it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips when she saw the earnest way Roy was looking at her. “Fine. But you stay over there. I want to pretend you guys aren’t here, alright?”

Roy did as he was told, staying in the doorway as she picked up that sweet little melody and focused her eyes on the notebook in front of her, the words almost indiscernible; she seemed to be able to read the rushed writing with ease.

She took a deep breath and snuck a glance at Roy before continuing to the bridge- her strength as a songwriter, Roy recalled from Keeley.

On the way home

I wrote a poem

You say, "What a mind"

This happens all the time

'Cause they said the end is coming

Everyone's up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they're push and shoving

You're in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was nothing

Her smile grew as she went on, looking less like a glamorous popstar and more like a girl, alone in her room, playing with music as if it was a toy, creating something out of nothing but emotions. It was nothing short of magical, Roy admitted to himself. This album was going to be something special, he realized.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

And he’d have to take credit for being its muse.

She looked straight at Roy, not hiding that radiant smile as she sang-

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

She played a sweet little outro, eyes still on Roy. Once finished, she offered him a tiny shrug, eyes bright with curiosity. “What d’you think?”

Roy’s in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

They said the end is coming

Everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

Outside, they’re push and shoving

You’re in the kitchen humming

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

“Fuck,” Roy laughed, finally walking over to sit down next to her, letting Sydney slip down into his arms. “That was lovely. Really lovely.” Before he could stop himself, the question he dreaded asking blurted out of his mouth. “Who’s it about?”

He felt so sure he’d stepped in it when her eyes flickered down, away from his gaze, before looking at him again. “Well, when I originally started writing this one, it was about my mom,” she started slowly. “I had been thinking about this time my parents visited, and we went to Ireland together. It was amazing, getting to show them places they never thought they’d visit.” She shook her head, as if the memories of that trip were fluttering through her mind. Then her eyes found his again. “But it’s also… well, about you, Kent.”

Roy nearly dropped the cat. “Me?” he asked incredulously. “Fuck d’you mean me?”

She chuckled awkwardly, rolling her eyes a little. “What you said about my mind, when I was writing in the car,” she explained. “And how you’ve been just, I dunno, really sweet about everything I’ve been working on here. And, I don’t know, you’ve become a really good friend.” She reached out and placed a hand on his leg, giving a small squeeze. “So I guess this song’s about the people who make me feel safe, happy, despite all the idiots in this world.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that make sense?”

His heart felt like it stopped dead in his chest. It was such a candid, honest answer- and not the one he expected. He knew she’d have to change lyrics to fit him before finalizing songs, but he didn’t think she’d write about him. Roy wasn’t sure he’d ever been so… flattered? Sure. Flattery. That was the warm feeling nuzzling in his chest, the same warm feeling that was spreading to his cheeks as she blinked at him, waiting for him to say something, probably to assure her that he liked being her muse.

“Oh,” was all that came out of his stupid mouth. “Wow.”

He saw it. He had seen it when he brushed her off the first time she talked to him about The Great Gatsby. He saw it when he walked brusquely out of the room when she first played Nothing New for him in her living room. And he was pretty sure he saw it when he ignored her at the Greyhound’s celebration to pay attention to Keeley.

It was some mix of disappointment and hurt. Something that made Roy wish he was capable of being someone other than himself.

Still, she put on that tiny, shy smile and removed her hand from Roy’s leg. “Yeah,” she chuckled. “Anyway, sorry for interrupting your cooking.” She cleared her throat and stood, scooping Sydney out of his arms. “I better go feed her.” Not quite looking at Roy, she walked out, leaving him all alone at the silent piano.

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silentwonderlocks · 7 months

Text

Your Own Sky- Albert Wesker x GN!Reader - One Shot

Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of violence and murder, angst

You shouldn’t worry too much now, dear. You’ll soon be free of all of this anyway.”

The Police Station looked different at two in the morning, almost like a haunted house taken right from a movie set and put in the quaint town known as Raccoon City. The light mist of rainfall didn’t help with its appearance either. It stood tall glaring back at you as you stood outside the main gate. Your morning shift was long over but you couldn’t help but drag yourself back here, late at night when fewer officers would be around the station. You have found yourself doing this for two long and torturous weeks ago when everything changed in the S.T.A.R.S. program when everything began to change in you.

Your hand pushes open the ornate pewter gate, leaving it ajar just enough to walk through. Once your hand leaves the gate, you listen as it shrieks itself close. The sound echoed in your mind for a moment, when did this place start to begin to feel like a prison? You took your time walking up the concrete steps, each step felt like a sentence until you finally reached the double wooden doors. You pushed them open and walked inside, now in the main lobby.

The main lobby was nothing like the normal police stations in America, then again, nothing was like Raccoon City. It was once a regal art museum, filled to the brim with paintings, and elegant sculptures. Now nearly completely renewed as a fancy-look police station. It used to be one of your favorite things about the place, how every room felt like a discovery wondering what was originally here. Thankfully, the police station did end up keeping more of the more.. defining pieces such as the pure white marble maiden statue in the lobby. The lion statue at the top of the main double staircase, the unicorn statue next to the library, and so forth.

No one was there besides the young receptionist at the police desk, Officer Bradley. A man in his early twenties, with a short black buzzcut, and a gold hoop earring in his left ear. Currently in the middle of what looked like some random game card on the computer, Solitaire maybe? Bradley seemed to have felt you staring because his head snapped up to you so fast, you were sure he must have pulled a muscle. His milk chocolate eyes lit up slightly seeing you, you had both been pretty friendly in the short time together. A few greetings and asking what each one would be doing that weekend, nothing more than short and friendly talk.

Bradley smiled at you, it wasn’t a friendly “Hey good to see you one”, it read more of a “Hey, you should be home resting”. A sympathetic and sorrowful one. It was the same treatment you and most of your fellow members of S.T.A.R.S. The constant coddling and walking on eggshells, the never-ending condolences. You hated it in a way, you wish everything would just go quiet and back to normal but it wouldn’t. But you swallowed your pride and gave a small smile back at him. Now was not the time to be thinking about the past, not yet.

“Shouldn’t you be at home, resting for your shift tomorrow? Or should I say today?” Bradley asked in a smooth baritone voice. You swore that if he wasn’t a cop, he would be making a living as a singer.

You let out a soft laugh then shook your head at his comment. He wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t the first time that you had come into work with less than 8 hours of sleep. Plus the station’s crappy coffee while tasting like utter garbage, did its job of keeping you awake when needed.

“I’ll be fine, all of us practically live here anyway,” You responded dismissively, waving your hand.

“Heh..maybe for you. I like going home and living the outside life.” Bradley says with a chuckle and slight shake of his head.

“To each their own I suppose, dont work too hard.” You say as you begin to walk away and the small ramp then up the left staircase of the station. You heard Bradley snort but didn’t proceed to say anything more.

You walked up the stairs, turning left into the library’s hallway. You walked past the huge bookshelves lined with all kinds of research and information. Empty tables and chairs, with a few wrappers from the vending machine candy. It doesn’t take you long to get where you truly want to go, where you need to go. Past the unicorn statute, into a long L-type hallway. Finally, you reach the section of the station you have been dreading to be in every day since that night. The lone door stood there, with a metal plaque in big bold letters next to it that read: S.T.A.R.S. Special Tactics and Rescue Service.

You stare at the words that seemingly mocked you. If S.T.A.R.S was supposed to be at the top of the team, Raccoon City’s best of the best then how did everything go so wrong? The taste of bile slowly rose in your throat, you knew why. It sickens you and makes you want to scream out. But you don’t.

Being outside of the S.T.A.R.S office was already a hard thing but being inside was a different experience. Even now as you stand in the doorway of the office. You just frown looking ahead at the desks. There were nine long wooden desks, some facing back to back with the others. It was a small space for each person but they made it work. Everyone had something or a style to their desk to indicate it was theirs. You walk up to the desks, noticing the tenth and eleventh one on the right side pinned against the wall. Out of the eleven desks there, five were empty and cleaned out.

You frowned looking at them, it was only two weeks ago when your Captain took you and the rest of S.T.A.R.S on a mission regarding a mansion. The Mansion Incident. At the time, it seemed like a normal mission despite the reports of people.. eating each other. You took a seat at your desk, it was across from Jill’s and diagonal from Chris’s. Both respected co-workers and survivors with you. You couldn’t believe it was only two weeks ago, you lost five members of your makeshift family. It didn’t help that memories and sounds of their laughter and voices were a mere fade now. Tears began to prick your eyes, you didn’t want to forget them and all the time spent together, but every day you felt them slipping from your mind. You held your head in your hands trying to calm the pain.

Monstersourus. That is the word you use and still use to describe that night in question. It started normal, being dropped off to investigate only to be chased into a mansion nearby by hideously diseased-looking rottweilers. The rest of the night was a house of horrors, people being picked off left and right, monsters of all kinds and shapes attacking you from any opportunity that arose. The worst of it all was the betrayal by the man whom you loved and respected the most. Captain Albert Wesker. The man who sealed everyone’s fate that night and the rest of their lives.

Your relationship with Wesker was…complicated to say the least. He was your boss first and foremost but over the two years of working along his side.

Something had changed, your dynamic was simple at first.

You would always greet him like you would any other officer, and he would usually respond with a curt ‘morning’ or just simply nod his head. You would ask him along with the others if he would join you for drinks after a successful mission. He would always decline, saying ‘I have more important things than killing my brain calls on cheap alcohol’. A statement that rings deeper in you than you remember.

Sparring sessions with him is where the dynamic began to change. It was a late night after a rough mission, rough missions are usually ones where the team isn’t able to save everyone and in this case, it was a young kid. It hit you hard and instead of going home for the night like everyone else did. You stayed there in the workout area, just punching the hung-up bag over and over until your hand felt numb. The memory is slowly replaying in your mind.

“Poor stance and swing. Who taught you how to punch?”

You jolted in surprise, turning around to see your captain, standing in the doorway. Bemused by your fighting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his black sunglasses staring back through you. Still in his uniform without the vest and radio. Your heartbeat sped up, he always had this imitating nature to him.

“uh...Chris sir.” You respond at first, waiting to see if he needs you for something or if he is just making conversation.

Wesker scoffed, the corner of his thin lips twisting into a light scowl. His grip on his arms seemed to tense up.

“Remind me, I need to retrain Mr. Redfield. He’s getting sloppy.” You nod at his request, expecting him to walk away and leave you to finish up your workout. But he didn't, he stood there longer. Like he’s waiting for something.

“How long were you watching??” You ask him with light pants.

“Enough to know that if you’re in a real fight, you won't last long.” You stared at him with an offended expression, unsure what to say.

“Excuse me?” He scoffs one more.

“I know you’re not daff, you heard me the first time. I will not be repeating myself.” You frowned looking at him, this was honestly the most you have talked with him.

You and he may have not talked but you did notice things about him. While being a hardass and strict as the rest of the members put it, you saw him as ambitious and just closed off. Over the last two years, you had picked up on his little mechanics. Wesker is a man who speaks with his body when he’s not speaking words. How his lips twist into a scowl when he’s annoyed, when he’s pleased he lets out a smooth hum noise. When he’s livid, which you have only seen a few times, his jaw clenches, and his eyebrows furrow. At this moment, you knew Wesker was annoyed with Chris but other than that. You didn't know why he was here, wait he did...

“Would you like to teach me properly?” You ask a bit more sassy than you would like. Even if he was your boss, you didn’t like being criticized so rudely.

“If I didn’t then the S.T.A.R.S department would become a joke. I have no room nor the patience for more idiots on this team” And that was how the weekly sparring sessions began.

As the memory fades, you let out a short laugh filled with pain. You close your eyes, wiping the tears away. After the sparring sessions happened, you improved to the point that Wesker said you didn't spar anymore. That didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the routine. You grew to learn about him, how smart the man truly was, and how blunt he could be. It was worth it, or you thought at the time it was worth it.

Despite the tears no longer pricking from your eyes. The pain wouldn’t stop, now that you had remembered and started to think about Wesker. Everything was hurting, you never felt so alone and small before this. Finally picking yourself up from the office chair, you go to the small closed section with a glass door in your way. It wasn’t just any section though, it was Wesker’s office. Or it used to be his. Now it was just another empty seat along with the other five. Out of the twelve of you, you had officially lost six members of the team.

Opening the glass door, your breath hitched. Since that night at the mansion, you hadn’t stepped foot in his office. Part of you was angry, and out of spite wanted nothing to do with him or his belongings, but it wore you down to regret and sadness when you realized that despite how angry you are. You miss him dearly.

To your shock, all of his belongings were still here. All of his books are on the back counter behind his desk. The wall was still littered with all of his achievements and plaques from the departments. His name mocking you as well as you reading the title on the desk.

“Captain Wesker”

Even his desk looked like how he left it. All neat, a pile of papers stacked nicely underneath his desk lamp. A black rotary telephone sat near the lamp, which made sense if the police chief needed to reach him quickly. On the other side of the desk was a computer similar to the one Bradley was playing on. His office chair wasn’t like yours and your fellow members. His was a black and puffy cushioned chair, lucky bastard.

A sickening feeling came back to you, how was his office left untouched but the others were picked clean? Did…no one care? Were...you supposed to do that? A sudden twinge of guilt ripped through you. The more you looked around, you began to notice that Wesker had nothing truly sentimental, nothing that seemed to break the fine line of work and personal life.

Each step inside his office felt like the air was limited. Your emotions ranged from anger to sorrow. You wanted to trash his neat office, you wanted to reflect on the man who killed your friends and co-workers. Reaching his desk, you went and sat down in his seat. You let out a shaky sigh, it still smelled of him...Your hand clenched into a fist as you noticed something that made you want to scream and cry. It was small, so small that you wouldn't have noticed it unless you were behind a desk. Unless you were Wesker sitting in his spot.

In the corner of the computer, there was a tiny wallet-sized photo tucked into the edge of it. So it wouldn’t be able to fly away. The photo was of you and Wesker at the bar, you smiling brightly and him giving a half-annoyed smile to the camera. You were both sitting at the bar counter, a beer in each hand, you had your arm around his waist. Your head leaned into his chest while at the time Brad took the photo. At the time, Wesker wasn't used to nor ready for that kind of contact. Fumbled to hold you back, so the photo caught him trying to hold you back. His free hand is in mid-air.

That photo was the first night he had shown up at the bar. The first time, he had swallowed his pride and decided to join you. While he didn’t come along with everyone, he showed up later. You were so happy and slightly tipsy that you couldn’t help yourself and hug him and excitedly scream to get a photo. You assumed he probably regretted it with how annoyed he seemed. You didn’t know that he ended up keeping the damn photo.

“You bastard..you…” You spoke through gritted teeth, feeling the tears coming back.

“How could you?” You finally asked the question that no one would answer.

More memories began to cloud your mind, all kinds of memories. But the ones that hurt the most were the happy ones with him.

“Wesker. I’ll be fine, I walk home all the time when my car is acting up. I walked here, you know?”

The two of you were outside, it was snowing down awful. You were sure the roads had to be worse than the sidewalks. You were bundled up in a beanie, scarf, and police jacket. Wesker was standing beside you, in a long black winter coat with a red scarf and leather gloves. Fancy man he isn't. Everyone was gone at this point so you were just outside enjoying the last of your coffee when he asked you about your home. He let out a grunt that sounded like a scoff.

“I will not ask you again Y/n, get in the car before I make you work overtime.” Wesker’s lip turns into a slight smirk as he walks to his car. The use of your first name caught you off guard.

“Hey! Do you even know where I live??” You called out walking after him.

“Of course, I need to know my officers' locations in case it's an emergency.” You let out a scoff of your own, of course, he does. Wesker always seems to know something ten steps before you do.

“Wipe the snow off of your shoes.”

“Yes, Mom,” You joke, doing what he asked and entering the passenger seat.

Once you realized what left your mouth, you were frozen waiting for his response. Should you apologize? You weren't really on joking terms with him yet so this was a step in either direction. It must have been a good step because when you heard him lightly chuckle. You finally felt relaxed. Despite the light mood, it was quickly gone when the drive began. What the hell do you say? Do you even say anything? Maybe he likes the silence and you didn’t want to bore him. After that night with him coming to the bar, you quickly realized the next day. He had smitten you and so being in his car alone was making you more nervous than you wanted. Wesker kept his eyes on the road, taking the right roads to get to your apartment building. You would steal looks, watching as the pasting streetlights illuminate his face. How the hell could he wear sunglasses at night?

“Can I ask you something?” You finally spoke, feeling the words tumble out like a nervous mess. Great.

“Only if I can ask something back,” Wesker responded in a smooth tone, keeping his eyes ahead.

“Why do you always wear sunglasses?”Wesker snorted slightly then finally looked over at you for a moment.

“That’s it? You have the chance to ask me anything, and you want to know about my sunglasses?”

“Yep!” You said with a sheepish tone and smile.

“I'm just curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat Y/n.”

“Well, satisfaction brought it back.”

Wesker let out another chuckle at your quick wit.“Touche.”

Then there was a silence like Wesker was hesitating or thinking over his next words carefully.

“Let’s just say, I like to be mysterious.”

You couldn't help but laugh at that. It seemed like a throwaway answer rather than the real one.

“What? That’s it? No way. Even at night too?” Wesker smirked once more.

“You already asked your question. It’s my turn.”

You slightly pouted at how he wasn't going to answer your questions but you understood. Maybe it was a touchy topic for him so you didn’t push it any further.

“Do I scare you?”

You blinked at his question. Did he scare you? Not really, maybe intimidate you but never scare you. He was a strict man, ruthless but he was a man who didn’t like incompetence and you could respect that. “Scare me? Why do you ask that?”

“Answer me and I’ll tell you.”Now it was time for you, to choose your words carefully.

“No, you don’t. You’re… a man who speaks his mind. Your appearance can be intimidating but you don’t scare me. You are a blunt man, ruthless sometimes but I think you do it because no one has the balls to do it. Pardon my language.”Wesker said nothing, and suddenly you felt small.

Oh no, did you say something wrong, were you kissing his ass? You noticed that his grip on the steering wheel tightened and then loosened. Like he was fighting an internal conflict with himself.

“I appreciate your honesty.” You waited for him to continue talking but didn't and you didn’t push him. Maybe he was dealing with something and just needed the small reassurance but you didn't have the guts to ask him. You believed he wouldn’t tell you directly either, you were just a coworker. Nothing else as much as you wanted it.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the car ride until he parked to let you out.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?”

“Before you go inside. I would like you to accompany me to dinner this week if you’re free.”You blinked in surprise. No way, he wasn't asking you out?

“Dinner?”

Wesker sighed once more, opening his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“I know I know, you don't like repeating yourself. But I just wanted to make sure I heard you right.”

“Is it a yes?”

“Yes.”

There your relationship began to blossom from simple co-workers to a forbidden romance. A fruit that tasted so sweet who could ever see the downfall? It was bliss and simple and you loved it. You noticed all of the little things that came along with the relationship.

While Wesker wasn’t affectionate, he would show his feelings in other ways. Firstly you noticed how he would leave you a cup of warm coffee on your desk since he would always get there before anyone else. Secondly, you noticed he was always around you more often. It didn’t matter if you were with other people or by yourself, he was always in the room with you. The nights after work were your favorite part, just being able to unwind with him on his couch talking about the future and what office made him upset that day. He rarely kissed you, when he did It would be a short peck on the cheek unless you engaged first. The man talked more with his hands than his words. His hand often being on your lower back, a simple but effective sign that you were his.

It didn’t take long for people to notice Wesker’s little changes either, how he seemed to be less annoyed and a little more lenient with some others. A rumor going around that he had to be dating or seeing someone, thankfully the two of you were good at hiding the truth. Him more than you.

Tears rolled down your cheeks onto his polished desktop, you gritted your teeth. Your head in your hands gripping the sides, hurt and anger fully taking over your mind and body. Slamming one clenched fist down, you quickly removed yourself from Wesker’s chair as if it seared you. Wiping away your tears, you take one last one at the photo on his computer. With one smooth motion, you remove it and stuff it into your pocket.

Standing in the doorway, you glance over your shoulder. Taking one last look at the shell of a man who once resigned here. You close the door, leaving your heart behind with the ghosts. Wesker was gone, dead by his own devices and here you were being helpless. Helpless for him.

You let out a shaky breath trying to keep your composure. As you turned to exit the S.T.A.R.S area, your breath hitched spotting one of the things you have been dreading.

On the wall, next to the exit door was a framed photograph of the entire S.T.A.R.S team. Both Alpha and Bravo. A small sorrowful smile reached your lips, your fingers gently brushing over the glass.

“I miss all of you..so much. I'm sorry, I couldn't save any of you..” You spoke with a somber tone.

“Chris, Jill, Rebecca, Brad, Barry, and me..we are the only survivors. I promise you, we are avenging you all. We’ve been gathering evidence to take down those Umbrella bastards ever since that night.” You spoke again, this time with venom in your tone.

“Even if it kills me, I will avenge you all.” With those last words, you exit out of the S.T.A.R.S area with no intent of returning for the night.

You make your way back into the main lobby, Bradley is nowhere to be seen. His computer paused on the card game still. You thought nothing of it, assuming he went to the bathroom, which you were grateful for. You didn’t need him to notice you had been crying, and then coddle you like a child who lost their toy. You eyed the time on the computer. 3:30 am, damn you were here for nearly two hours and you didn’t even realize it. You sighed, rubbing your face, feeling now a wave of exhaustion hit you. You shook off the feeling, needing to get home first then you could pass out.

You open the main door walking down the concrete steps and reaching the ornate gate. The rain was no longer a mist, now actually coming down rather hard. You could hear thunder booming throughout the night, which meant lightning wouldn’t be too far. You cursed, rushing through the gate, its shrieking drowned out by the rain. Reaching your car, you get in and begin to drive home, focusing on nothing but the lights and the road. Alone with nothing but the rain and your memories.

You should have seen the signs, and the changes in his behavior and attitude one week before the mansion incident. He was on edge constantly, how he seemed to be colder towards you without any warning. You remember how you confronted him about it, an hour before getting on the helicopter.

“Wesker, what is your problem lately?” You asked after you followed him into the armory to talk.

“I'm not sure I know what you mean L/n.” He responded nonchalantly as he seemed to be picking out various types of ammo for the mission.

“Bullshit. Why have you been acting so cold towards me? Did I do something??” You ask, genuinely concerned and hurt by his attitude.

“It’s simple. I don't have any more use for you, you were a fun little experiment. “ His tone was harsh despite his calm composure.

“Experiment?! So… all of this time we spent, the sparring sessions, the late night talks and kisses. All lies?” You asked now angry, feeling yourself tear up but you blinked them away fast.

“What were you expecting? That I settle down and we would be married? Only a fool would wish that. I have more important things than wasting my breath on a lowlife love like yours.” Wesker hissed out, as he began to walk out of the armory.

You said silent at his words, you felt your heart break with every word.

“Now if we are done with this childish talk, we have a mission to prepare for. I expect you to be fully professional and not let your ridiculous feelings cause us failure. Understood L/n?” He spoke not even to glance back at you, the knife digging deeper.

“I..but..”

“I believe I was clear L/n.” He spoke once more, his tone cold and distant.

“Yes…Captain..” You spoke clenching your fists, watching him exit the room and turn down the hallway. You listened as his heavy footsteps departed away. Only when you knew he was truly gone did you let yourself cry.

A loud honk of a horn started you out of your thoughts, you jolted into the driver’s seat. Noticing the light was now green, you sheepishly waved to the car behind you and began to drive once more. You let out a sniffle and wiped your face, dammit when did you become such an emotional wreck?

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, as you continued to drive. You could feel the photo in your pocket burning a hole in you, you felt sick. You had to be insane for caring so much for a man who didn't deserve it.

After what seemed like an hour's drive, even though it was only a fifteen-minute one, you finally pulled into your apartment building. The rain hadn’t calmed down so you had to book into your building without getting more soaked than you were. You ran up to the second floor wet squeaking noises following you. Unlocking the red door, you step inside, closing it then proceed to take off your wet shoes and coat.

Home didn’t feel completely the same either, so many of your co-workers had come over for events and Wesker had been here plenty of times. It felt like being in a stranger's home that just looked like yours.

“This whole city is a damn nightmare,” You spoke to yourself as you walked down the hallway into your bedroom.

Newspapers were scattered everywhere, along with books and piles of paper of old police reports and whatever evidence you gathered on the Umbrella Corporation. One of your walls was covered with photos and a stereotypical red thread connecting locations on a local map. The remaining members of S.T.A.R.S were out for blood and you couldn’t blame them, they had played god and taken away innocent lives. You just wish you didn’t have these damned feelings, it would be so much easier to be hateful.

Ignoring the mess, you go to your mirror and stare at yourself. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were red and puff no doubt from all the crying, and dark circles were beginning to form from the lack of sleep. Jill had offered you some sleeping pills since everyone was dealing with nightmares but you declined fearing you would get dependent on them. You rubbed your face, exhaustion fully aware of your expression. Thank god you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

Your eyes drift up to the right corner of the mirror, it is splattered with different photos. All of them have you in them, in some way with different people. Some are family, some are friends and some are your co-workers. You slowly take out the photo of you and Wesker out of your pocket. You glare at it, waiting for it to engulf itself in flames. But you sigh and then tape it on the mirror along with the others. It looked so out of place but maybe that’s why it felt right to keep it there. You just hoped that Jill or Chris wouldn't be coming around anytime or they would throw a fit.

“I believed in you.” You say out loud, your eyes never leaving Wesker’s photographed expression. You wanted to say so much yet, the words never came out.

“How long have they been slipping you a paycheck?!” Chris asked out of anger and disbelief staring at the end of Wesker’s barrel.

All of you were in the mansion’s underground lab, with blue fluorescent lighting, and huge tanks filled with all kinds of failed experiments. Wesker was over by what looked to be an advanced computer system with three or four screens displaying information you didn't understand. Next to him was a huge water tank. You stood in between Rebecca and Chris, you were already in a vulnerable position, Wesker having broken up with you earlier. You had just spent the majority of the night in both mental and physical pain. All of the zombies, gigantic animals, and the mutated experiments, it was truly a nightmare. If your heart wasn’t broken it was destroyed now, bleeding out.

Wesker kept his eyes on Chris and gave a little scoff moving forward. The barrel inches away from Chris’s face

“I think you’re a bit confused.” He spoke, finally turning to look towards you and Rebecca. It’s like his next words were directly at you.“I’ve always been with Umbrella and S.T.A.R.S. were Umbrella’s.” He paused, correcting his words.

“No, rather, my little piggies.” You felt your face contort into anger, despite your heart sinking into your stomach. He meant what he said earlier, just an experiment. Wesker continued seeming proud of this moment.

“The Tyrant Virus leaked, polluting this whole place. And unfortunately, I had to give up my lovely members of S.T.A.R.S.” Chris raised his hand to point at Wesker in a hateful tone.

“You killed them with your own dirty hands! You son of a bitch!” You knew how much Chris had respected Wesker so part of you felt relieved that you weren’t the only one suffering with these emotions.

“No..” You finally spoke, seeming to be a deer caught in headlights.“Oh yes, dear. Just like this.” Wesker smirked, turning the gun on Rebecca and shooting her in the chest.

“Rebecca!” Both you and Chris screamed, moving to go and check her wounds.

“Don’t move!” Wesker hisses out now the gun raised on both of you.

“You..” It was the only word you spoke, turning around to face him in anger.

“Oh come on. I don't think you want to die just yet dearheart.” Wesker mocked you with his old nickname for you. Motioning to a bleeding Rebecca on the ground with his free hand.

“I have something that's of some interest to you.” Keeping his gun pointed at the two of you, Wesker looked back at the system and began to type in a code with his free hand.

The large water tank next to Wesker lit up showing a huge humanoid monster with one hand being long claw-like appendages. Its fleshy heart was exposed on its chest beating loudly. Your eyes widen in horror at whatever that thing is. Its milky white eyes ran shivers down your spine. Soon the water began to drain within the inside of the tank. You watched as Wesker lowered his gun to turn to the monster. He had a sense of pride in himself as he spoke.

“The ultimate life-form...Tyrant!” Wesker spoke moving in front of the tank. Chris began to laugh with pity and sorrow.

“Wesker, you’ve gone senile.”

“You won't get away with this you bastard!” You yelled at him finally finding your voice.

“Neither of you will understand.” His voice filled with awe and pride. Wesker raised his arms like he was watching his child take its first steps. “It's…magnificent.”

Once Wesker finished that last word, the creature known as Tyrant began to move its large claw arm.

In one quick motion, it broke the glass piercing Wesker through his lower stomach and abdomen. It lifts him in the air, Wesker’s body slowly sliding down on the claws. Those groans of pain and yells he let out would always haunt you. You couldn't help but let out a scream feeling his blood splattered on your face.

“WESKER!”

You and Chris watched in horror as it stepped down from the water tank with ease then tossed Wesker’s body to the other side of the lab. His body bleeding out and slumped down. Without a second to waste, you and Chris pulled out your guns and began to shoot at the monster. Bullets seemed to deflect off of it, but once you and Chris realized the exposed heart was its takedown. You nearly used all of your ammo combined but it was dead…for now. That wasn’t the least of your concerns though, now self-destruction was active meaning you had less than 10 minutes to get the hell out.

“We need to get out of here, I'll get Rebecca. Go and get Jill, she’s in the basement here somewhere.” Chris spoke going to pick up Rebecca, slinging her arm over his shoulder, putting her weight on him. Then rushed out leaving you alone with Wesker and the monster.

You took a moment to walk over to Wesker and knelt beside him. Your hand reached over removing his sunglasses, his crystal blue eyes finally exposed to you. A shaky breath escaped your mouth, you tried to hold back tears.

“Oh, Albert. Things didn’t have to be this way...We could have been..” You couldn’t finish the sentence knowing it didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t be listening or answering.

“Rest now...You’ll be alright now..” You whispered leaning down to kiss his cheek then you closed his eyes.

“I love you…I shouldn't but I still do..” Tears were now rolling down your face, salty mixing into the metallic substance stuck to your face. His blood.

Placing his sunglasses back on his face, you gave him one last kiss on the forehead then rushed out to go rescue Jill and escape this horrible nightmare.

Little did you know.

You were sure those final moments with Wesker would haunt you forever. Maybe that’s why you took the photo, you just wanted to forget what bad he had done. You wanted to remember the man you fell in love with. Closing your eyes, you hung your head down contemplating what to do now. A nice shower would probably be a good start, or you could just go and crash for the night.

Just as you were about to move from the mirror, you froze in slight terror and disbelief. His cologne…you could smell it but it wasn’t faint like how his chair was. It was strong and overbearing as if he was in the room with you…

You shot your head up, to look in the mirror and you opened your mouth in shock. In the reflection, in your dark hallway. A pair of bright amber eyes glowed in the darkness, piercing through your soul. Suddenly lightning strikes outside, illuminating your room and you see him.

Albert Wesker. Standing there in your hallway.

Wesker smirked at you, tilting his head. He stayed in his spot, his hands behind his back. Those amber eyes glowed brightly. Still wearing those damned sunglasses but now he seemed to be dressed in a black suit.

“Hello, Dearheart. Did you miss me?”

“No…you’re dead.” You finally spoke, convinced you were having a psychotic break now. It was the only logical explanation. You had seen him die with your own eyes.

“Quite the opposite.” You blinked for a second and he was suddenly directly behind you in your reflection.

You yelped, turning around to punch him in the face and you gasped when he caught your wrist and tsked softly.

“Now now, I know I taught you better than that.” The harsh grip on your arm, his cologne was stronger than ever now. You were practically inhaling it. This was real, he was real.

You sneered tugging your arm away, like his touch alone burned you. Your body trembles trying to process this new information.

“What the fuck? How are you alive?!”

“You think so little of me? I’m smart enough to not let that be my resting place.”

“I saw you die! That…thing impaled you! No one should be alive from that!” You are trying to understand how this was possible.

“So you did miss me?”

“I never said that you bastard!”

“Oh?” He spoke leaning forward, his face inches away from you. You instantly took a step away, your back hitting the mirror. You watched out of the corner of his eye, he’s grabbing something.

“Then what’s this?” He asks now, holding the wallet-size photo between his middle and pointer fingers. A smug look on his face.

You scowled knowing you didn’t have a good answer to that. You hated how much this man knew you, as much you wanted to kill him and the other part screamed for you to embrace him.

“What are you doing here Wesker? Come to mock me then finish the job?”

Wesker’s face dropped from the smug look to his usual stoic one. He tossed the photo across the room, not concerned if it got lost among the mess. He moved away from you, looking over your evidence and red thread wall. He lets out a scoff.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already.” He then grabs a newspaper.

“I see you’ve been busy with a school project.”

“Umbrella won’t be getting away with this.” You sneer at him.

“Oh, they already have,” Wesker says, turning towards you.

You blinked in confusion.

“What do you mean? Once I show this evidence with Chris and Jill to Chief Irons. Umbrella is done!”

Wesker tsks then scoffs.

“Umbrella has most of the police station in their pocket, including your ‘precious’ Irons. It’ll be a matter of time before S.T.A.R.S. is no more than memory”

“No..” You said, shaking your head. You didn’t want to believe it but if what Wesker said down in the lab is true then he’s right. All of this evidence would be for nothing but you still had to try.

“I dont care what you say, I'm going to take down Umbrella even if it kills me.”

Wesker’s eyebrow furrows in annoyance, he walks over to you.

“Join me then.”

“What? Are you fucking seriously right now?” You ask with a sorrowful laugh.

“Why would I trust you? After how much you’ve hurt me after you nearly let me die. After you killed our co-workers.”

Wesker glared at you, his eyes flicking from bright amber to a deep red. In his eyes, it was a necessary event, maybe you wouldn't understand now but you would one day.

“Because I know you love me.”

Your face went pale, you stood there eyes widening. How the hell did he know? Was he alive when you knelt beside him? Oh god, did you leave him there to die? Why didn’t he say anything to you?

“H-how. Did you..” You knew the answer, he heard you back down in the lab.

“No. You're wrong” Doubling down on your words.

He smirked leaning down, his arms now wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. Just like he used to do. You sneer trying to push him away but you are caged there. Did he get stronger since you saw him last?!

“Let me go!!”

“What’s wrong? Here I thought you would be ecstatic to see me.” He taunts refusing to listen to your requests.

“Fuck you!

Wesker scowled at your words, his grip tightening on you.

“What a shame. It seems my little act was too perfect. If I didn’t care for you, I wouldn't be here wasting my time.”

“I don't care! I don't want you here and I don't want to see you! You fucking bastard! You killed innocent people!” You ask, feeling too many emotions at once. Anger, sorrow, happiness, cautiousness. All fighting to be opened like Pandora's box.

Wesker just hummed ignoring the little tautrim you seemed to be throwing. He just chuckled, at your poor attempt at rejecting him.

“I did what I had to do. Now what I want is mine, and that is you.” He says in a smooth tone, his gloved hand holding your chin and stroking it. Wesker continued to speak.

“I have plans for the future, and I want you there.”

You frowned looking at him, why weren’t you pulling away from him? Damn your body, it missed his touch so much.

“What kind of plans?” You asked, scared of his answer. You watched Wesker’s thin lips grow into a sinister grin.

“Plans for greatness, my dearheart. You and I, ruling over this world and creating a new order. Just like we talked about it”

His words were crazed but filled with a truth you’d never heard from him. Yes, in the past, you had talked about changing the world but you thought that's all it was. Just small talk.

“We’ll take down Umbrella?” You asked, unsure of your morals anymore.

Five minutes you were ready to scream and claw his eyes out, now you were so confused. Your heart was screaming for you to trust him, and be with him all over again. Your brain told you no, this man would betray you again and would kill you in the end. You just wished you could pick a side.

“You may not believe me but I do have my reasons for wanting Umbrella to burn.” Wesker leaned in, his nose brushing against yours.

“Why fight it?”

“Because..i..” Your words trail off, your eyes locking with his amber ones. They were a beautiful shade of red and orange, glowing lightly. He was beautiful before but now, those eyes..

You didn’t finish your sentence closing the gap between you and him. The kiss was unlike anything the two of you had experienced before. You could feel his desire and wants through the kiss and he could feel your passion. Maybe he misses you just as much as you missed him.

What you wanted to say was that it’s the right thing to do. You felt like you were now the traitor, wasting so many nights and tears on them just to throw them away for him. All of the dead members must be rolling in their graves, and you knew there had to be a spot for you in hell.

“Good” Wesker said in a pleased tone, pulling away from the kiss, his arms still tightly holding you.

“It’s time to create our sky.”

Jill stood outside of the apartment, worried for Y/n. It had been days since anyone had seen them since that last night at the station. Jill had figured that the trauma had finally gotten to them, and they needed some time away.

Rasping her knuckles on the door, she’s put on edge when the door opens from her knocks.

“Y/n? Are you here?” Jill calls out opening the door but doesn’t come in. Feeling something is off, and lingering silence isn’t helping either. Jill pulls out her pistol and gets into the proper stance searching the apartment carefully. She searches each room finding nothing, not even a sign of Y/n anywhere. Finally reaching the bedroom, Jill opens it and swings her body side to side, ready to shoot anyone that isn’t Y/n.

Nothing, not a sign of them. All of the newspapers, the reports, and the red thread wall. Gone, as if it never happened. Jill frowns, putting her pistol away, she steps inside and just feels confused. There was a lone note on the mirror.

All it read was: I'm sorry.

Pulling out her phone, she attempts to call Y/n. Dialtone.

“Shit! That’s not good...I need to tell Chris.” Jill rushed out of the apartment building.

She would never notice the wallet-size photo lying in the corner of the room. The one of the two lovers, now reunited once more in secret.

#resident evil #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #jill valentine #chris redfield #resident evil 1 #resident evil wesker #albert wesker x you #x reader #canon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #albert wesker x y/n #albert wesker one shot

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johaerys-writes · 1 month

Text

Ch. 5: i thought we were the same, birds of a feather

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

By the time they leave their hotel room, most museums are closed for the day, but there’s still a few that are open. Achilles drags Patroclus from exhibit to exhibit in the Art Museum, telling him about each artist and art movement he has studied in detail beforehand. They stay there until closure, then they visit the botanical gardens, a vast swath of land filled with rare species of trees, bushes and flowers, fountains and streams and glass-like lakes with swans and other water birds gliding leisurely around them.

Achilles chirps merrily about this and that —botany has always been a shared interest of theirs, ever since they used to spend most of their summer in Chiron’s camp— and he laughs often, much more than Patroclus has seen him doing in years. Even before he left for Switzerland, when their relationship had already started getting rocky.

Patroclus had felt guilty about that for a long while, the fact that their… differences and arguments had soured the easy companionship they once used to share. He’d felt partly responsible for that: for disrupting the plans that he and Achilles had meticulously been crafting for years, then for not being able to be happy for Achilles for going on without him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find a silver lining in the situation they’d both found themselves in. Besides, it’s not like Achilles had ever made things easy for him, rubbing his adventures and his glittering social life in his face one moment, then baiting him into endless arguments the next; so, really, feeling bad about it all had been pointless from the start.

But he still feels that sharp pang of hurt when he sees Achilles' smile now, genuine and sweet like it used to be, as he glimpses a side of him that he hasn’t seen in so long. As his heart jumps each time their hands touch. This is what he’d missed, more than anything, why he envied all those nameless new friends of his: being around him, talking and joking with him, simply having fun with him. They hadn’t done that in so long amidst all that turmoil, but somehow Patroclus finds himself falling perfectly in step with him as if they haven’t missed a single day.

“Look, Pat!” Achilles exclaims suddenly, catching Patroclus’ hand and pointing at a tall and robust tree a little down the lane. “That’s a Tebusu Heritage tree. It’s said to be one of the oldest in the world, over 170 years old. Remember those ancient trees we used to study on Pelion? You used to love those.”

Patroclus follows him as he rushes forth to examine them. These trees here are shorter and more slender than the ones on Pelion, but they still stir fond memories in him, of long summers spent idling in their shade.

“These gardens are great,” Achilles says enthusiastically, after his lengthy explanation of the trees’ properties and their specific characteristics. “Much better than the gardens in Zurich, I should say. Maybe London, too. I was there for a photoshoot for a brand collab a few months ago and they weren’t half as extensive or rich as these…”

He lets his sentence trail off, sneaking a shy glance at Patroclus. His throat bobs as he swallows, and he looks away.

“What’s wrong?” Patroclus asks softly. He gives his hand a gentle nudge. “Keep going. I want to hear it.”

“It’s just… you never like it when I talk about… you know. Travelling, being abroad, doing photoshoots and all that. So… I’ve been trying not to.”

Patroclus stares at him, taken aback. Achilles didn’t seem to have the same inhibitions a year ago, when he’d shamelessly send him photos from whatever club, restaurant or continent he’d find himself in. Patroclus wonders if Achilles knew it was bothering him, even then. Knowing him, it was probably to rile him up and get a reaction out of him rather than innocently sharing moments of his day with him. The implication stirs that particular brand of annoyance that only Achilles can get out of him.

But another part of him is mournful for all the little moments Patroclus has missed from Achilles’ life. Travelling and brand collabs have been taking up an increasingly big chunk of his time it seems, and Patroclus has been there for none of it, has stubbornly never shown the slightest interest in it. Not that Achilles had shown any interest in his own work until yesterday, when he helped him with his presentation. But that’s more than he’s done in years. And Patroclus is still so grateful for that. He wants more of it.

“I don’t mind,” he tells him finally, after a short pause. “I’d still like to hear it. Anything you have to say.”

Achilles beams at him, his eyes lighting up with so much joy that it makes Patroclus ache. Any reservations he had about learning more about Achilles’ life evaporate as he listens to him talk about his work the last few months, the modelling gigs he’s been juggling on top of buckling down for his last round of exams. Patroclus smiles at that; if anyone can do all of those things and still ace his exams, it’s Achilles.

“...I even got an offer to work with this new online platform for musicians,” he says, as they’re walking down a quiet lane lined with baobab trees. “They somehow found out I used to play the violin and they asked me to advertise it on my page.”

“You didn’t just use to play the violin,” Patroclus chuckles, strangely delighted to hear about Achilles’ recent endeavours. “You placed first in the string competition in Vienna in eleventh grade. I’d be surprised if someone hadn’t dug that up.”

“Yeah, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Achilles grins at him. His entire countenance seems to be glowing in the amber sunset light. “We used to train for hours every day but it was worth it.”

“Phoenix had us practising those pieces for months. I can still see myself playing them in my sleep,” Patroclus groans.

“I still think we should have gone for a duet. Then we would have both won.”

Patroclus chuckles under his breath, ducking under a low hanging branch. Achilles had needled Phoenix for months to let them play together, but the old man would never relent. Patroclus was good for his level and for the work he put in, but he was never exceptional like Achilles; he wasn’t born a virtuoso. In the end, he had been disqualified at the finals, missing the third spot by a hair with his rendition of Chopin’s Mazurka in A Minor, while Achilles had swept the crowds away with Bach’s Sonata for Solo Violin No. 1 in G minor. As long as he lives, Patroclus will never forget how Achilles had walked on the stage, a slender boy of seventeen, and had held a massive concert hall captive while he played and for several moments after he’d finished; and then the audience had erupted in cheers and applause, tears standing in some of their eyes, including Patroclus’ own.

That has always been Achilles’ gift: changing things wherever he might be, down to their molecules. Shining so blindingly bright that the world around him can't help but be captivated by his light.

“I think perhaps it’s better that Phoenix never changed his mind,” Patroclus says. “I might have dragged you down with me because of some stupid mistake. Or I would have stolen your spotlight. We can’t have that.”

He says that with a smile, without envy or malice. A simple acknowledgment of facts, with a little bite of humour perhaps. But Achilles stops walking and turns to him, his features completely serious.

“You could never do that,” he says, very firmly. “You’ve never once dragged me into anything. Any mistakes I’ve made have been my own. As for the spotlight—there’s no other person I’d rather share it with, Pat. None.”

Once again, Patroclus stares at him, aghast. He doesn’t know where all this is coming from, why Achilles is speaking so seriously and earnestly all of a sudden. He has never known Achilles to lie to him—on the contrary, Achilles has always bluntly told him the truth even when it hurt—but hearing this from him now, after everything, makes it impossible to believe.

Another part of him though, the part that always ran back to Achilles after every heartbreak, that always yearned for him despite it all, wants desperately to believe him.

“You should start playing the violin again,” Patroclus says quietly, his voice thick with emotion he can’t quite hide. “You were always… so good at it.”

Achilles smiles, and the waning light falls so sweetly on his golden hair, his eyes, his beautiful skin. "You should take it up again too. Maybe one day we can play Handel’s Passacaglia together, like we always wanted.”

The fantasy is so potent, impossible to resist. He and Achilles playing together again, practising for hours every day just like they used to, the thrill after mastering a particularly difficult piece… Patroclus’ heart clenches with painful longing.

The path they're on is empty, and they’re shielded from view by the thick foliage. Before he knows it, Patroclus is stepping closer, reaching out to wrap his arm around Achilles' waist.

“I’d like that,” he whispers, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. "I really would."

Achilles sighs, melting into him, pulling him close to kiss him deeper.

#patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #the song of achilles #tsoa #hades game #the iliad #tagamemnon #modern au #johaerys writes

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wolfthatroamsshadows · 6 months

Text

Watched Hazbin Hotel, read Chaggie fanfic, and must've turned a wrong corner because I found myself back with Carmen Sandiego and Carulia. How did this happen?

Anyway... I wrote this short snippet. Takes place directly after the very last shot of the vary last episode of Carmen Sandiego. Cause, let's be honest, Carmen and Julia not ending up together... makes me sad. This is just a little, probably ooc, goodness. I don't even know if I should put it up on AO3.

Fandom: Carmen Sandiego (2019) Ship: Carmen/Julia Words: 709

Julia let out an exhausted sigh as she stepped out of the hotel's elevator. She had called it a day after they had brought in Paper Star. The paperwork would be there for her in the morning. She just wanted to get to the hotel and relax. It had been a few hectic days.

She unlocked the room and stepped into it. Closing the door behind her, she unbuttoned her blazer and discarded it on the back of a chair next to a bright red coat, before even acknowledging the figure lounging on the bed.

"Thank you for the gift. Nice wrapping." Julia smiled at Carmen.

"Just thought you guys would appreciate it." A lithe movement and Carmen stood in front of Julia, her hands on Julia's hips.

Julia looked up into the steely grey eyes of her companion. "It was. But you know what I would appreciate much more?" She leaned closer and put her hands on Carmen's chest. "Visiting a museum when it's actually open." Julia shoved Carmen back onto the mattress and straddled her.

"And whose fault is that Miss I-have-to-work?" Carmen laughed her hands settling on Julia's thighs.

"Oh, shut it you." Julia said good-naturedly and leaned down.

The door behind them burst open. "Carm!"

Julia sighed and dropped her forehead onto Carmen's chest. She had hoped she'd had more of a head start, but she should've known the twins' aversion to paperwork would mean different.

"Oooohhh! Are we interrupting something?" Ivy sing-songed teasingly.

Julia could practically hear Carmen's eyeroll. She sat up and swung her legs over to sit on the edge of the bed looking sternly at her colleagues. "Not anymore, you aren't. What do you want in here anyway?"

"We wanted to say hi to Carm. We missed her." Zack said with half a snack from the minibar in his hand.

"We just hadn't realized you had called dibs on her first. Should've put a sock on the door handle or something." Ivy smirked.

Julia sighed. She liked the twins, really, but she didn't know how Carmen had put up with their antics for that long. "Zack, please don't empty the minibar, ACME doesn't cover the bill and I doubt your paycheck allows for it. And Ivy, I did not call dibs…" She was getting worked up, but Carmen put her hand on the small of her back and she found her calm again. "…because I simply didn't feel it necessary to do so. I thought it was obvious. At least to two people who claim to be as capable as they are as Agents."

That got the attention of Zack and Ivy. They stood up straighter, ready to defend themselves. "But I must've been mistaken. Maybe you spent too much time with Devineaux. Who knows. He, at least, has learned to knock before entering a room." Julia smirked. Devineaux had learned the hard way to knock before barging into a room, after he had walked in on Carmen and Julia once. That was an occasion none of them wanted to ever repeat.

Julia got up and walked to her suitcase. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable. And then I just want some dinner." She straightened again after grabbing her clothes and looked at the other three in the room. "With my girlfriend. Alone. Understood?" Her eyes fixed the twins specifically who nodded and swallowed. She turned and entered the bathroom. Closing the door behind herself, she smiled. Being a senior agent had some perks. Or it was just that Zack and Ivy had realized, after working with her, just how much damage Julia could've done to their operation if she had wanted.

She could hear the excited talk of the twins in the other room. A fond look stole itself on her face. For all the teasing and jabs that happened, they were still family. Somehow. She shook her head and left the bathroom after changing.

"Where do you want to go?" Carmen asked.

"I don't know. Let's just see where we'll find ourselves."

Carmen offered her arm, Julia accepted.

Carmen leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You alright, Jules?"

"I am now. Thank you." Carmen pressed her lips to Julia's temple, before they left the room together.

#carulia #julethief #carmen sandiego #fanfic #my fic #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego 2019 #carmen sandeigo #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo 2019

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pinkykats-place · 2 years

Text

Aged Up BakuDeku sfw one shots Ⅱ

Pro Hero AU

AO3 Fanfic Recommendations

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

All are SFW … still read tags.

Art work by @estrellachan27 {twitter}.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

twenty-seven bones by iphido

Summary: His mother used to tell him, Katsuki, there isn’t a tender bone in your body.

Hold Me Close by mynameis152

Summary: On rainy days, the pain sets in and Izuku can't bare to get out of bed.

Luckily, his husband is there to help.

Early Mornings by Russie

Summary: Katsuki's mornings alone were just him getting up, getting dressed, and going to work. Simple, boring. Mornings waking up next to Izuku? There's always the possibility he was going to be surprised.

A Series of Dumb Decisions that Actually Turns Out Okay by bkdkwritingsdump

Summary: Izuku goes undercover at a fan convention to buy unlicensed Ground Zero merch behind his boyfriend's back.

Stupid Intruders by MoniLovely

Summary: Katsuki's friends invade his and Deku's date.

of freckles and constellations by UzukageHime

Summary: because izuku is a map with constellations etched across his skin and his eyes are a universe with which galaxies and stars collide and katsuki loves him so very much.

Puppy Love by Alphapisces0301

Summary: Katsuki and Izuku try to give their new puppy a bath. For Katsuki, the emphasis is on try.

Kisses and Fresh Paint by Loopielupie

Summary: They're finally on the verge of opening the agency. In between assembling furniture and giving the place a new coat of paint Izuku and Katsuki grab a moment to themselves.

Although maybe they should have picked a better place for it...

Worth It by asdfjkl129

Summary: “I have something for you, once you finish eating,” Katsuki says.

Deku perks up with poorly hidden curiosity. “Oh?”

His hair is still damp, dripping onto his grey shirt with a simple Sidekick emblazoned on the front. He’s wearing one of Katsuki’s sweatpants and a pair of fuzzy socks stuffed into slippers, looking so comfortable and at home that Katsuki has the sudden urge to tackle him into the wall or squeeze his face and kiss him until he passes out. Normal urges when dealing with Deku, of course.

Instead, Katsuki throws one of his chopsticks at him, nailing Deku perfectly on the forehead.

“Yeah,” Katsuki says, ignoring Deku’s squawk.

— — —

Deku doesn't give himself nice things often enough for Katsuki's taste. So, he'll fix that, starting with one iconic Lego set in familiar reds, blues, and yellows at a time.

The happy place by @silverynight

Summary: Katsuki has a happy place... and his name is Izuku. It's also the apartment they live in together and the couch where they both end up on top of each other, sometimes fighting over the remote... Sometimes just taking a break from all the things they have to do for everyone else.

They're hero partners now and Katsuki somehow managed to convince his friend/rival that it was more convenient for them to live together.

His mother gave him a knowing and judging look when she heard the story from Izuku, the first time their parents payed them a visit; Inko was just happy for the two of them.

Katsuki knows his mother is right and this is ridiculous, that he's torturing himself, but if it's the only way he can have Izuku then he's willing to endure all the "suffering" that comes with it.

Tomorrow's Sound Bite by EnduringParadox

Summary: "There's no such thing as always, Deku. If Dynamight is still hearty and hale, then he's going. I think the public will get a kick out of seeing him hold his own against Hirano and Merry. Stop pouting."

"I'm not pouting," Izuku said with a pout. "I just—Kacchan—"

"Dynamight is an adult and a pro-hero. He is more than capable of answering questions about himself for an hour. Get some rest. I want you in tip-top condition for your talk at the museum opening next week. Now, please give the phone back to Dynamight."

Izuku mumbled a goodbye and mouthed Sorry as he handed the phone to Kacchan.

Kacchan groaned. "Yeah, I'll do the interview, goddamn. But if they want me to talk for an hour, then they'll get me for an hour, got it?"

An hour of pure, unfiltered Kacchan.

Izuku was sure that they didn't know what they were getting into.

---

Izuku and Kacchan always do their interviews together, but with Izuku home sick, Kacchan has to weather it alone. Izuku is worried, especially when a rude guest starts needling Kacchan about their relationship.

Bakugou's Mad Dash Airport Confession by Lovelylemonliar

Summary: “I guess you're finally getting everything you've ever wanted, huh Kacchan? I'll be gone far away and you'll be the number one hero. I'm really happy for you…”

But this was not everything Bakugou had ever wanted.

What he wanted was on his way to the airport… away from him and into who knows what kind of danger.

— — —

OR Bakudeku stars in everyone's favorite classic rom-com trope of the dramatic running through an airport to confess their love before the other's flight takes off.

Caramelized by polarisyn

Summary: “Deku, what perfume are you using? What's Glasses talkin' about?” He asked, hands in his pockets, still staring at the corner where Iida just went, making sure he wasn’t listening in case he’d come back.

“Why are people asking me that? I don’t know! I haven’t used anything.”

He kicked the door and forced himself in, gripping the collar of Izuku’s shirt to bring him closer and sniffing in the so-light, sweet musky scent. Then it clicked—something dark and possessive was growing in his chest. Smirking with the slight satisfaction crawling into his face, there was only one answer to that question.

“You sure you don’t know, baby?” He growled.

— — —

Or, five times people ask what perfume Izuku was wearing, one time they finally got an answer.

On a Tuesday? by MugenUnshield

Summary: Just a regular ass Tuesday.

Life hadn't come to a grinding halt. Birds hadn't fallen from the sky, and he was pretty sure the Earth was still securely in orbit, yet…

He couldn't stop staring at the boy in front of him.

His Hands by bkdkwritingsdump

Summary: Holding hands with Izuku was always something that felt incredibly intimate to Katsuki, and he knew exactly why: because it was those hands that Izuku had held out again and again, waiting for Katsuki to take them, and when he finally did, that clasped him tightly and refused to ever let go.

netflix and chill by gochumilk

Summary: Surely he knows what netflix and chill means, right? Surely Kacchan is familiar with some slangs the younger generation uses these days, right?

Izuku sure hopes Kacchan does because he refuses to believe that Kacchan really just offered to have casual sex.

— — —

(or Katsuki asks Izuku to “netflix and chill” without knowing the meaning behind it)

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nhstadler · 2 years

Text

A/N: Surprise! One fresh James S. P. POV because everyone’s been so lovely and reviewing and I just love to hear what you guys think. Those wonderful human beings who take the time to leave messages, I cannot thank you enough. You guys have motivated and inspired me and I’m already deep into writing chapter 44 because of you.

If you haven’t read chapter 43 Of Headaches and Heartbreak yet, go read that first! Enjoy :)

G L I T T E R O N T H E F L O O R

Dad has a painting in his office - the only painting: Cloud Study. Aunt Hermione gave it to him after he was made Head Auror twelve years ago and I remember him putting it up right behind his desk, in the middle of the blank wall like an exhibit at a museum.

There is nothing else, just this one painting, which is often discussed at length over chaotic Potter-Weasley family dinners. Dad’s uninspired office decor has become the cause for many attempts to gift him with other, increasingly ridiculous wall art for his birthdays - all of them unsuccessful.

I asked him about it once; when I was at his office last Christmas before we went to King’s Cross to get Lilly - why he didn’t put up any of the family photos that were crowding his desk or the old Gryffindor posters that Mum had framed for his study.

His face creased into a smile, then. “It’s colourful enough.”

“It’s grey, Dad.”

“Is it?” He leaned his back against his desk and I copied him, arms folded, ankles crossed, and then we stood there in complete silence, staring at Cloud Study; at the billows of greys and whites that bled into each other, looking almost lavender where the colours met. Or maybe it was blue - pale and muted - and I thought that it reminded me of something, but I wasn’t sure what.

I know now.

“Mate?”

I snap my head up at Freddie and he lets out a snort of laughter as he shakes his head at me.

“What?”

“It’s just -” He gives me a weird sort of look before grinning, widely. “I’ve never seen you like this, is all.”

“Like what?”

Before Freddie can answer, Augustus has come out of the bathroom, closely followed by Selma, his hand pushing through his hair. “Thought I heard you,” he says and the dark blond strands fall back into his face again, too long to stay put. He looks like the lead singer of a 90s boy band.

“I think she passed out.” Selma is clutching a half-empty water bottle so hard that her fingers are denting the plastic. “James, what should we do?”

“Move.” I sound a little too aggressive as I edge into the bathroom next to Benji, but the sight of Genie sprawled lifelessly on the floor makes the prickle of panic behind my chest swell to uncomfortable proportions.

There is glitter on the floor, mostly purple, spilling around her head like a grotesque halo.

Benji moves towards the shower to make room for me and I crouch down, putting my hand against her cheek. “Hey, Gee,” I say softly and I feel a wave of relief as she opens her eyes to blink at me. Her make-up is a mess; mascara streaks run down her face and the rhinestones that dotted her cheekbones a few hours ago have all fallen off except for three. “Let’s get you up. Come on.” I slide one arm underneath her back and the other behind her neck before carefully pulling her up against me into a sitting position. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“I hate this,” she whispers and her voice is raw and painful, like every word has sharp edges that dig into her throat. “This is fucked up, James.”

“I know.” I cut my gaze up to meet hers and tilt her chin back a little so that the light falls more evenly across her face. But her eyes are all black and I can’t decipher anything. “Did you take anything?”

She doesn’t answer but squirms a little in my arms before burying her head in my shoulder.

“Genie, look at me. Did you take anything?”

She is crying again - sobbing convulsively. Her whole body is shaking against me and I push back the long strands of hair that stick to her wet cheeks, twisting them together in the nape of her neck.

“I love her.” The words are barely audible as she mutters them into the crook of my neck; fragile like cracked glass, just substantial enough for me to hear them. No one else.

“I know,” I say and tuck her head under mine, my chin resting on her glitter-infused hair.

“It sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agree and she lets out a wet snort that turns into a phlegmy hiccup and then I have a trail of fresh vomit all over the front of my T-shirt.

* Art credit: Cloud Study by John Constable (1822)

#hntbaw #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #hpfanfiction #james sirius potter #aesthetics #aesthetic #hownottobeawoodley #Spotify

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littlescaryinternetguy · 11 months

Note

What's the ideal day for a tiny like you

Well. Understand that I am about to use 'you' to mean 'someone like the reader, who appreciates and indeed celebrates the wonder of lil two-inch tall fairies'. Of course, if that is you, and frankly it should be, you can use the word 'you' to mean 'you', much as you are doing in this sentence.

Wake up, not too late. Say, 8 in the morning? You're just waking up too, and we enjoy the process. Bedwarmth is a precious commodity, and we both appreciate it. Maybe you curl your fingers around me and hold me close and we just luxuriate. Hell, maybe we fall back asleep.

Strong coffee, or tea. And then we set out on our day. Maybe it's just walking about town, playing the flaneur. Or maybe we're in a new city, in which case we're definitely going to walk aimlessly for a while, watching the city breathe. We find a museum and go in, check out the modern stuff. We go to a used book shop. I can't read well any more (the result of getting my clock cleaned by young brownshirts) but I still love books, I love to see all the things they're about.

We walk around and just soak up wherever we are until, say, noon. I'm usually hovering by your ear so we can talk. Every so often you give me a poke in gest, or I buzz you for similar reasons. We get some lunch: good fresh bread, butter.

Then: nap. Because falling asleep next to someone wonderful, and waking up next to them, is such a gift... why not receive it as many times as we can?

After that, it's afternoon. We sit back. We do all the observed unobserved things that people who are deeply comfortable with each other do. And every so often I'll stop, and look at you, maybe reclined on the couch, or putting dishes up, and I'll know that I am lucky.

Then we make a simple dinner. More of that good bread on the side. I'm not much for lugging ingredients around (I would if I could!) but I keep company. And throughout, and throughout the day, we talk when there's something to say, and we laugh when there's something to laugh at, and we remain silent when silence should be.

After that, a night walk, because everything looks different at night. Everything sounds and smells different at night. Especially in a city.

And thereafter to bed, where... well, I know that some people reading this are not fans of certain subjects. I however am. We study that subject, and each other, with diligence and joy. Feel free to get in touch if you'd like a more detailed description.

Really, it's not much that I want. Fulfillment, comfort, and love. That's a perfect day.

#time will vindicate me #g/t #sfw g/t #g/t fluff #g/t community #sfw giant/tiny #giant/tiny #sfw gt

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say-al0e · 2 years

Note

How's your tooth? What were your fav. Things in Germany(beside the chocolate)? The least(beside the airport)? I need to know everything!

Doesn’t hurt so bad today! I’ve got a sinus infection and that makes my mouth hurt (no idea why, but it always does 😭) so I’m just holding on. I have to call the dentist tomorrow to see if they’re taking new patients (and if they can see me soon-ish, but maybe not until I feel better physically and can breathe out of my nose again) so wish me luck.

I’m listing all this below a read more since it got a little long 😂 I started a whole list and will post it eventually.

Favorite things:

public transportation! We don’t have that here where I live so it was super nice getting to just hop on a train and not having to drive. It was also pretty cheap and I never had any issues with it running late.

The grocery stores are so cheap. I went into one and was so shocked at how insanely cheap groceries were! I also really like the recycling system. I just recycled my bottles at my hotel but it was super cool (and even adding on the pfand, stuff was still insanely cheap).

McDonald’s curly fries. Stupid but so good.

No one really bothers you in shops? I appreciate help when I need it but there was no one constantly being like ‘are you okay? Do you need help?’ It was nice to be left alone.

Public bathroom stall doors. The ones here are insanely creepy, i now realize. Do not like the space. Love the full coverage doors in Europe.

Black currant. It’s not a flavor here but it should be. 11/10 love

The duvet situation. Having like no top sheet and just a duvet felt weird but I grew to love it.

Capri Sun with bubbles.

Chocolate.

All the museums!

Soccer (football) culture. Coolest experience ever was seeing a game, riding the train with fans, and just being there for it all.

Least favorite: (keep in mind a lot of this is because I grew up in a small southern town and have those ‘southern manners’ instilled in everything I do. A lot of these are probably normal in parts of the US and might just be a city thing. Not judging, just a little surprised and kinda thrown off.)

People blow their noses ridiculously loud in public. I get it, it’s normal there. Still. A massive culture shock to me. Not judging, just not a fan.

Dog culture. So many of them were off leash and I have no fear of dogs but a random dog, off leash, on a busy street? Freaked me out. Did not like. Also off leash on the train and that too freaked me out. (Almost all of them were well behaved but it only takes one wrong move for something to happen. I guess I’m just paranoid.)

Self checkout at grocery stores. We bag as we go along. I got yelled at in German for not knowing that you ring it up and then bag when you’re done, even though the instructions in English clearly did not specify that. Totally my fault, but still embarrassing. Should’ve just gone to a regular cashier.

Smoking. Everyone was smoking everywhere. At the entrance of buildings, right by the train, outside restaurants; everyone had a cigarette in hand. Smoking is so rare in public (at least where I live) that it blew my mind. And it smells so bad. Least favorite thing by a mile.

No one says excuse me. If they need to brush by you, they’ll just nudge you out of the way. I thought it was just a one off but it happened so many times. They didn’t speak at all, it wasn’t just me not understanding them saying excuse me, promise. I get manners are different but that threw me off. Wasn’t expecting it but I’ll know for next time.

Every chip is paprika flavored. It’s fine but it’s kinda bland? Maybe I just didn’t get the right brand but it was just meh. Lays was the only brand with any other flavor I saw.

Everything is closed on Sunday’s. (I’m from the middle of nowhere. Grew up in a town where that’s the norm. But Berlin is a massive city so it’s just odd to me that everything is closed. Maybe for work/life balance? I dunno. Im sure there’s a reason. Just not fun when you’re a tourist and still need food on a day everything is closed.)

Overall, everything was great. A lot of my ‘complaints’ are just culture shock things that I didn’t think to expect would be different. And, again, they’re not bad. Likely just ‘big city’ things I would experience in a large city here. Just a few small surprises as an American on her first trip to Germany.

#answered #anon #it’s a lot my bad 😂

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bennettdavisblog · 7 months

Text

Over the Ocean and Through the traffic, to Grandma’s Pagoda We Go!

Our internal clocks are so out of whack, not knowing if it’s night or day, Saturday or Monday (recall we lost Sunday), taking a nap just wasn’t going to happen. The concierges recommended many things to see and do. Though they pushed that we go to the Genocide Museum (nothing says Welcome to Cambodia like a stop at the Genocide Museum followed up with a quick jaunt over to the killing fields), we opted for a short walk to a pagoda close to our hotel. Called Wat Phnom, or Temple Hill, it is where Phnom Penh got its beginning. The legend is that an old lady (Daun or Grandma) discovered some Buddhas inside a log there and decided that a hill with a pagoda should be on top of it and from that the city was born. Yeah, not sure I believe that one. However, there is a hill and there is a temple built on top and we set out to see it. This is when culture shock takes over and you realize that you actually are on the other side of the world. It’s one thing to be at the Raffles being pampered and quite another to be walking around Phnom Penh getting an unfiltered view of the city, its people, and its way of life. It ain’t like home. Speaking of home, we had to pass the US Embassy to get to Grandma’s pagoda. The building takes up an entire city square and a big one at that. You are not allowed to take pictures of it, and I can only imagine why the US needs an embassy of that size in such a small country. Actually, I can imagine, and I suspect it has something to do with proximity to the “C” country to the north. Odd, but I digress.

Back to Grandma’s pagoda…The pagoda is in a traffic circle and to get there you take your life in your hands hoping that you won’t get run over by the same modes of transportation we dodged in Pho’s van. In Pho’s van, we had protection. Crossing the street you’re on your own. It’s Grandma’s death trap. Thanks, Grandma. The best way to cross is to become part of the weaving and bobbing of the traffic flow. Trust me, you learn that quickly. Staying committed, hesitate and you’re dead, miraculously we make it to the other side. Not a wonder all these people are there praying in the pagoda. They’re thanking Buddha for allowing them to live after crossing the street. Supremely jet lagged and not knowing what the heck we’re viewing, we looked a little like this guy perplexed at how his new toy works.

At this time, we don’t have a clue about Hindu or Buddhist mythology (as of this writing we are near experts), so I took this photo of Lisa (people we just got off a 20 hour journey and she looks pretty good) in front of a seven headed Naga, the sea serpent that protects Vishnu in Hindu and in Buddhism, Buddha told Naga how to become a human in its next life. Or something like that.

We went about halfway around the circle and finally came across the stairway to Grandma’s pagoda.

We climbed the steps and the second thing we came across was this party going on with a barbecue, incense, and lots of people.

Clueless about what we just saw, we climb some more steps and finally make it to the temple. You have to take your shoes off to go in and I wonder if I’ll ever see my $150 sneakers again. I will. The temple is beautiful and full of gifts and money for whom I don’t really know. The monks maybe? Buddha? No idea.

We walk around the temple, assume we are now blessed, exit, go back down the stairs, and catch a tuk-tuk to go find a French owned wine bar I read about called Bouchon. We get dropped off, went in and had two glasses of wine and some delicious clams. The bill was just under $16.00. I’m going to like Cambodia!! By the way, the currency is US dollars making life very easy for us gringos.

Back to the hotel for a quick rest and shower. We decide to dine at the hotel since we were so tired. The waitress asks if we want inside or outside and since it’s a gorgeous night, we say outside. Still or sparkling water? Sparkling. Here’s how they serve it.

Not being terribly hungry, we ate a few appetizers, fine, nothing special, and were headed for the room. HOWEVER, we passed The Elephant Bar and since Jackie Kennedy went there, we had to go, too. Nightcap! The Elephant Bar is as classy a bar as there is. You feel the history of the place when you go in. Imagine all the dignitaries, movie stars, and prominent businesspeople who have stopped in (and still do) for a world changing conversation over a Mekong Gin dry martini.

At this point, I’d like to say we’ve had a second wind, but no way. Lisa has Jackie’s Femme Fatale and I have a house Negroni, which for some reason is a big deal in Cambodia.

Barely able to keep our eyes open, it’s now officially time for bed. We drag ourselves to the room and fall fast asleep. It’s only 8:30pm PP time and Sunday is still nowhere to be found.

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house-of-laminations · 3 years

Note

Tbh we always talk about the more eldritch side of the obey me cast, but yknow what would be nice? Seeing these old grandpas get so shocked at how humans work now.

I don't really think demons have a proper concept of evolution. Maybe its more of a power up? But they certainly don't evolve like how humans would. It'd be funny to see some of them get shocked to learn that we didn't exactly look like this before. Of course some of em may know before, but other demons who just think of humans as food and nothing more would.

Idk its just funny to see a demon having a whole crisis because how tf did we go from that to that?

Anon not only is this hilarious to think about, especially when you consider the differences between human and demon biologies, but it's absolutely insane to imagine these ancient know-it-alls either just forgetting it or like. completely missing humans evolving. kinda like MC: i know as a human i think my species is kinda important but how do you MISS that? Brothers: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ so I wrote that. I hope you dont mind.

no cws, but there's a nod to dialuci, which could also be very easily read as a reckless MC making a joke at Lucifer's expense. 5.5k words again, babes.

Evolutionary Biology 101 with Prof. MC (or: how the demons missed the emergence of Homo sapiens sapiens only for MC to educate them)

Mammon

Mammon was created some time before Cambrian Explosion - though don't ask him what year, no one was keeping track of things like that back then.

The general goings-on of heaven didn't interest him so much, so Lucifer would often give him the more fun, creative projects to occupy his time.

He didn't pay much attention to humans either, not until Beel, Belphie, and Lilith started expressing an interest in them - and by then human development had progressed to the use of tools and currency - completely missing their initial emergence.

"Well this is a waste of time! There's nothin' shiny here at all," complains Mammon.

"You didn't have to come with me," you say, for what feels like the hundredth time.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea ever to bring the Avatar of Greed along with you while you visit the museum. Solomon had wanted you to pick up something from an acquaintance of his, and that acquaintance happened to be one of the research associates tied to the place. Your only saving grace has been the fact this is the Natural History Museum - still full of valuable artifacts, but less immediately obvious or eye catching. You wouldn't know what to do with Mammon in a place like the British Museum.

Or actually. On second thoughts... maybe you should take him there. He'd be right at home.

You leave the demon somewhere in near the entrance with a firm suggestion (though not an order) to stay put. The meeting is short and to the point, and you leave the office with an ancient scroll in hand.

Mammon is not where you left him when you return.

With a sigh, you find yourself a map of museum exhibits, resolving to find him by process of elimination. Maybe he's by some of the valuables displays - early tools, jewelry, and pottery could potentially snag his interest.

Except he's not where you expect him to be at all.

You find Mammon in one of the new exhibits - Roots of Australiana.

"I made that one," he says, pointing. You follow the line his finger makes and you can't help but feel the surge of fond exasperation when your eyes land on the taxidermy creature.

"Are you telling me you made the platypus?"

"Yup, all the handiwork of the Great Mammon!" he says, pride in his voice and the way he puffs out his chest. "Michael hated it but Lucifer loved it."

The affection you feel for this demon is immeasurable. You laugh, grabbing onto his arm and hugging him close, just to see that beautiful red blush take over his features. You don't let yourself be shocked by the fact that apparently Mammon was responsible for the creation of one of the weirdest creatures known to mankind. It makes a startling amount of sense.

You spend the next few hours in just that one exhibit, pointing at different animals and asking about their origins. Mammon doesn't know the answer to all of the questions you ask, but you do get a glimpse into what sort of life he maybe had before the Fall.

"Oh yeah! Jellyfish! Levi wasn't super interested in makin' anything but we all had to contribute something. He got his out of the way real early on too."

"Lucifer says he made the cassowary, but Satan swears up an' down that it was him drivin' at the time."

"Asmo, Beel, an' I worked together on Kangaroos. Or rather - I made kangaroos but Asmo didn't think they were 'cute' enough so he made wallabies. Beel was just a kid back then but he loved 'em so much he wanted to show Belphie and Lilith, so he made Rock-Wallabies. Small enough that he could pick 'em up and carry 'em in his lil' baby hands."

Eventually you get to the end of the exhibit, where there there's a display of recreations of the neolithic pre-human variations of the indigenous peoples. There's even an actual skull just sitting there in the open, beyond the rope boundary. Surprisingly, Mammon has something to say about this too.

"Lucifer, Simeon, an' a few of the other seraphim helped make those. I dunno why it took a bunch of them though considerin' there are none left around today. Too many cooks, I wonder?"

You freeze.

"Mammon," you start, still formulating your thoughts, "do you know what this is?"

He cocks his head, gaze flitting between you and the display. "It's jus' a monkey, isn't it? Not one of the cute ones though."

"No..." you say slowly, only because you yourself are kind of perplexed by this strange gap in his knowledge, "Well. Yes, kind of a monkey. But a monkey that eventually evolved into the human race."

There's a moment of silence as Mammon stares at you.

"You're shittin' me, MC," he finally says.

"I wouldn't lie to you about this," you say, even though you would in any other circumstance. Winding Mammon (or really, any of the brothers) up has become a personal past-time. "That right there is one of the protohumans. Paranthropus boisei if that plaque is to be believed."

Mammon looks so confused and it's hard not to giggle a little at his wide eyes.

But then you see his arm move and -

"Wait, Mammon-"

It's too late. Mammon has already reached inside the exhibit to grab hold of the skull. Alarms start blaring but he ignores it - probably doesn't even register to him. Instead, he's holding up the skull to be level with your own head.

You only just hold back from making an Alas, dear Yorrick joke.

"Nah, I don' see it. Where'd the fangs go? Your teeth so little compared to these chompers." he says, while fiddling with the admittedly ginormous teeth inside the skull.

You pull on his arm to try and get him to drop the skull before anyone sees, but he doesn't budge. "Please, Mammon. I'll tell you if you just put. The skull. Down."

You punctuate each word with more fruitless tugs at his arm, which prompts him to raise it higher to try and get the skull out of your reach. Security has now run into the room, and they're all trying to ask him the same thing - put the skull down and come with them.

Mammon snorts, narrowing his eyes. "Pesky humans," he grumbles, before wrapping his free arm around you.

You're not quite sure what happens next. You think there's a flash of wing, the touch of cool leather, but it's like your brain just doesn't know how to translate what your body is seeing, hearing, and feeling.

When the world starts making sense again, you have to blink a few times to get your eyes adjusted to bright sunlight. You can hear running water, and in front of you a platypus is lounging in the reeds of a small creek.

Mammon is still holding that skull.

"Alright, now that we're alone, you can start explainin' things," he says.

This is just too bizarre. You sigh. So much for getting Solomon's scroll back to him before sundown. Especially now that it seems Mammon has taken you entire continents away.

In for a penny...

"Is listening to me explain evolutionary biology to you really what you want to do now we're alone in the middle of nowhere?"

There's a splashing sound as the skull is thrown into the creek. You can't find it in you to care. Especially not when strong arms wrap around you and everything becomes Mammon.

Leviathan

Leviathan was created some million years before the Triassic era. He grew up at the same time the life in the ocean was starting to grow teeth.

He was the brother to spend the most time on Earth - but not on land. His presence in the deepest depths in the ocean was perhaps one of the reasons for their eventual gargantuan size. And as the creatures grew in response to this threat, Leviathan grew with them.

Really, humans only started being interesting when they learned to tell stories with nuance. His brothers like to joke it was the advent of anime and manga, but really, Levi secretly loved the puppetry of early civilizations too.

But by then, it was too late. He'd spent all that time down in the ocean, only to miss man's precursors crawling from the waves.

You're mentally patting yourself on the back for the absolutely brilliant idea to bring Levi to a human aquarium when he stops suddenly beside you.

It's not the first time that's happened during the day - quite often some scaly creature will attract Levi's attention and he'll be frozen staring at it for a bit. If you didn't know better you'd say he was trying to mentally communicate with the fish. You're happy to listen to his long rants and tangents after about that particular species or maybe a fun story he has about some of his oceanic trips. Normally the shifting blue ambiance of the aquarium lighting makes people look spooky, otherworldy. On Levi, it makes him look alive.

What seems to have stopped him this time is the absolutely enormous jawbone of what the plaque tells you is a Megalodon.

"It was a baby," he sniffs.

You grab onto his hand, pushing down the existential terror that anecdote brings up in you. Whatever this jaw belonged to could swallow you whole without realizing, and that's baby sized?

"There, there. At least it's swimming happily in the fishy afterlife with the rest of its species," you try to console.

"Not all of them," he grumbles sulkily.

That makes you freeze. You're staring up at the fossilized jawbone, contemplating the implications of that comment long enough for Levi to wander off on his own.

"MC," Levi calls to you, though you can't say for sure how much time has passed, "what do they mean by 'all life started in the ocean'?"

Once with Mammon was chance.

Twice with Levi - it can't be coincidence.

Or rather, shouldn't be.

"Exactly what it says," you say rather blithely. You should not have to explain this to beings who were definitely alive back then. "All life, including the reptiles, mammals, and even humans, started off as some variation of sea life."

"Oh, so you have gills? Why didn't you say so MC, I could've taken you taken out to visit Lotan ages ago if I'd known-"

"Levi, I don't have gills," you interrupt. "I have lungs. We've been over this."

He screws up his nose. "Seems like a bit of a downgrade, to me. Think about all the cool things you're missing out on because you don't have gills!"

"Missing?" you ask incredulously, "sure, we're coming back to the giant deep sea life that apparently isn't dead in a sec, but how can you miss all of human evolution?"

He blinks at you slowly.

"It's not like the land creatures were doing anything interesting."

You splutter. "Not doing anything inter- Levi they were evolving into humans. They were fighting and eating each other to distill the dominant species!"

He shrugs.

"Plesiosaurs did that too. If you wanted to see some really vicious fighting, you could always count on the Vampyromorphs."

"I'm sorry the what?"

Levi sighs like you were put on this earth just to test him. In your defense, you kind of were, a little bit. You sling an arm around his shoulders to bring him close. You're in this together, after all.

You don't hide your blush when he confidently puts an arm around your waist in return, hand settling on your hip. He uses it to steer you towards the Squid Tank.

"C'mon MC, your normie side is showing. Vam-pyro-morph. Giant squids with slightly cannibalistic tendencies. Ticklish underneath the tentacles and the teeth," he says, like that explains anything.

Sketched onto the plaque beside the tank is one of the early vampire squid precursors. It's the most terrifying thing you have ever seen.

Speaking of terrifying, that reminds you -

"Levi- hey. Levi, please, what did you mean megalodon aren't extinct-"

Satan & Asmodeus

Asmodeus was created sometime around the late Jurassic era. This was way before the modern variations of the Homo sapiens species, but a few of their precursors were mulling around.

That wasn't to say they were doing anything particularly interesting. Instead, Asmo was more taken with the potential colors of avian feathers. He was trying to campaign for more variation by aggressively making more wild and wonderful plumage.

Satan, perhaps, has the best defense in that he didn't exist as an independent entity until sometime around when humans invented agriculture. He may have had flashes of awareness within Lucifer, but it was very rarely during anything to do with the mortal races.

You, Satan, and Asmo had agreed to study for your next Devildom Law exam together in the House's library. Studying together was normally a thing you and Satan would do anyway, but Asmo had been falling behind somewhat in your last exams, and Lucifer was starting to get snippy about it. You suggested Asmo should join you and Satan, on the basis that the current unit is on human cultural developments, and you can teach by example.

Asmo was especially enthusiastic about that.

Surprisingly, he was a more effective study partner than, say, Mammon. The three of you had been managing to read quietly together for just over an hour. Your hand had drifted unconsciously into Asmo's hair, while Satan let his tail wrap around your ankle.

"I didn't realize humans had multiple forms too!"

Asmo's voice breaks the tranquility of the library, and you look up from your notes. Satan leans over Asmo's shoulder and hums a little in surprise.

You suddenly have a lap full of the Avatar of Lust as Asmo crowds into your space. He's got a book in hand - one on the history and development of human cultures. It's turned to a page on the origins of humanity, and it even contains one of those stereotypical diagrams you'd associate with the progression of evolution - from fish to primate to man.

"What-" you start, but Satan's already latched onto this subject like a cat with its prey.

"It makes sense - your current form is quite dexterous and good for persistance hunting, but it doesn't provide much in terms of raw power," he's saying, and what?

"Though it seems the cranial size and cognitive capacity of your current form is the most advanced - is that to make quick decisions and judgements?"

"You don't have to keep your defenses up with us - surely you know that we'll love you no matter what you look like," Asmo croons, twining your fingers together.

"Don't you trust us, MC?" asks Satan and damn him for being so soft.

"Wait, guys, you don't think..." you start but then trail off. After Mammon and Levi, maybe you shouldn't assume the knowledge of these dumbasses demons.

"Think what, MC?" Satan asks.

You can't help the laugh that escapes you.

"Humans don't have multiple forms, at least that I'm aware of. That's a diagram of human evolution," you explain.

It doesn't seem to clear anything up. They're both still staring at you, waiting.

"Humans didn't always start off with opposable thumbs. In fact, we actually started in the ocean as weak little microbes," you say, wishing you paid more attention in high school bio. "We eventually grew lungs and feet and all the other stuff until we landed on version I am today."

"Oh," says Asmo, and it's actually a bit of a surprise that he's the first of the two to get it.

"Kind of like how Satan started off as a parasitic feeling of righteous anger, then became a ball of miasmic spite before figuring out the whole physical shape thing?"

Or not.

"Hey, I was not a parasite-" Satan scowls but you cut him off before he could get truly worked up.

"No, that's more like human childhood development-" you stop yourself when you see their looks of confusion. Right. Basics. "Anyway. Human evolution happened over millions of years. What you see before you now is the result of thousands of generations combining to produce the most viable, strongest traits for survival."

"Oh!" says Asmo, and not again. "Like dogs!"

You go to refute that too, but then you pause. Technically all the different shapes and sizes dogs come in are the result of generations of selective breeding. Some have survived and some have died off.

"Kind of," you finally settle on.

Satan scowls. "You're not like a dog, MC. You're different to other humans, right?"

You sigh, resolving yourself to an afternoon of explain the theories of evolutionary taxonomy, genetics, and survival of the fittest.

To two of the most powerful beings in existence.

Great. So much for date night.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

Beelzebub and Belphegor (and Lilith) all had a fascination with humans and human cultures.

That doesn't mean they were particularly aware of their origins. After all, they had only been created towards the late Miocene era. They were children as the protohumans were taking their first steps.

To say the twins and Lilith grew up as humanity grew up wouldn't be incorrect. They were somewhat sheltered, though, from the worst of it.

You had promised this would be a quick trip to the university's library. You still have your student access, which grants you document delivery privileges - something both Lucifer and Solomon take advantage of regularly. Normally the library could send you a digital copy of your requested book, chapter, or paper, but in this case you had to go in and pick up a physical copy. Belphie and Beel had offered to accompany you for the trip, and in return you offered to get them a human world lunch - your treat.

However, you weren't banking on encountering one of your more detestable peers. You and he had never gotten along - not even since your undergrad days. He catches sight of you before you could turn and leave, and you were forced into a 'polite' game of catch-up.

The conversation starts and ends with pointed barbs and unwarranted bragging on both sides. Occasionally his eyes will flick towards Beel and Belphie at your back, both impatiently waiting for this to be over like kids waiting for their parent to stop catching up with an old friend in the shopping centre. Unfortunately it all devolves into something just shy of a screaming match when he decides to bring the twins into it, referring to them obliquely - insulting them in that underhanded way that conceited academics fling around their intelligence. There's something frantic about it, though.

He decides to take his leave when you start garnering the attention of other students.

"Right, well, when you're done associating with Neanderthals be sure to give me a call. I need that book once you're done with it."

"I would, but that lead pole stuck up your ass would probably block my call anyway," you sneer as he leaves, determined not to give him the last word.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, stopping you from going after that scholarship stealing prick by keeping you held against Beel's chest.

"I don't get why he made you so mad," grumbles Belphie.

"You mean besides sniping the scholarship and supervisory team I was gunning for during my year away?" you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down. This probably doesn't mean much to them anyway. "He shouldn't have called you that."

"Called us what?" Beel asks, still not letting you go.

You turn in his hold, tilting your head. "He called you Neanderthals. Which is such a childish insu-"

"What's a neanderthal?" asks Belphie, coming up on Beel's other side to lean against you heavily. You're not sure whether it's his inherent laziness or his desire to constantly be close to you, but you appreciate it regardless.

You sigh. By now you've realized that for whatever reason, these ancient entities who predate humanity know nothing about how your species emerged.

You grab both of their hands in your own, tugging at Beel softly to get him to release you. He does, and you walk them towards the display at the entrance of the Anthropology library. There's a large, old diagram in a simple frame that feels incongruous to the ultra-modern aesthetic the rest of the library seems to have.

The picture depicts somewhat of a lineage of human species - with branching taxonomies to show some of the related Homo Sapiens species before your own wiped them out. You point to one of the closest humanoid figures - it's proportions vaguely similar to your own, but the arms and hands are too large, the skull too long.

"That's a neanderthal. They were a possible early prototype of humans," you say, and it's somewhat amusing to see the identical expressions of confusion direct themselves from you to the image.

Beel hums. "I still don't get it. Why did it make you so mad?"

You sigh. "The neanderthals were wiped out by the early Homo sapiens sapiens - my species. Well. Wiped out, bred out, there's still some contention. Supposedly their cognition wasn't advanced as ours, so by using it as an insult, he was calling you stupid, boorish, and outdated."

"I'll show him stupid and boorish," mutters Belphie, his human-looking form flickering slightly around the edges.

And no, as tempting as it is, you probably shouldn't let the demon loose on that human annoyance. You scramble to come up with something to distract Belphie, but all you can really focus on is the flickering.

Hmm.

"Neanderthals weren't the only human-like species people think were wiped out. There's some speculation that humans developed a sense of the uncanny valley because there were other species around that came close to threatening us," you start, tightening your grip on Belphies hand. You re-grab Beel's, now trying to lead them out of the building.

You continue. "Humans have this sense that basically freaks us out when we see something that looks, sounds, and moves like a human, but isn't quite right. It could've also developed as a way to weed out undesirable conditions or illnesses as humanity was evolving."

You can see your words starting to get through to Belphie, and wide eyes blink at you slowly. You can tell Beel is also invested, in the way he's stopped trying to tug you over in the direction of the vending machines.

"But I have another theory."

Belphie is very clearly interested now, but it's Beel who asks "what's your theory?"

"I think that there is another species - one stronger and faster and better at hiding itself - that humans are below in the food chain. All we can do is keep an eye out for them, because we sure as hell aren't going to be able to fight them off."

"I'd fight them for you, MC," says Beel, and he's sweet. But you can also tell that he's realized where you've been leading the conversation.

"What's the point of this all, MC?" asks Belphie and damn it you thought you managed to distract him. His shape is still flickering threateningly.

"I'm talking about demons, Belphie. You guys eat human souls as some kind of tasty snack. Humans can't fight back so we developed an ability to be scared so we could run away. That asshole back there was probably puffing up his feathers because he was terrified of you."

Finally, finally, that seems to appease Belphie. A self-satisfied grin crosses his face, and he leans further into you.

There's a loud growl, breaking the fragile peace. Beel doesn't even bother trying to look embarrassed.

"Yes, we can get food now. C'mere," you say before he can even ask, and begin to drag them anew.

A thrill shoots up your spine when you realize they let you lead them, these apex predators who are designed to consume you.

Lucifer & Diavolo

Unlike his brothers, Lucifer wasn't unobservant throughout prehistoric times. In fact he, Simeon, Michael, and a few other siblings were given the responsibility to push evolution in the right direction.

That final step between Homo Heidelbergensis and Homo Sapiens took its toll on all of them, and so Lucifer gave himself permission to stop giving a fuck about the mortal fleshbags to focus more on his family.

Perhaps this is why he didn't quite have the same curiosity about human culture that his siblings did - it was so much work getting them to that point that all he can think of was the long hours.

Diavolo himself had been born at some point in very early human history but he's always had a fascination with humans and where they came from - compounded when he found out the role Lucifer himself played in their creation.

But that doesn't mean they're both without some gaps in their knowledge (in some very important places)....

"Here, hold this."

This is the only warning you get before the squirming baby is deposited in your arms.

The child belongs to one of your friends from before college - before RAD. Your friend had brought it along for one of your admittedly rare catch-ups because she couldn't find a sitter, sorry! You watch helplessly as she leaves your table to head towards the bathrooms.

You stare at the baby.

It babbles back at you.

"MC?" a familiar voice calls.

You and the baby both look up at the same time with identical dumbfounded expressions.

Approaching your table is two tall figures, both wearing long and expensive looking overcoats. The one in red is grinning sunnily, while his companion in blue is screwing up his nose, making his glasses skew on his face. Diavolo and Lucifer take seats at your table, despite the fact there are plenty of empty places around the cafe.

"Please don't tell me you've picked up a pet, MC," Lucifer says with distaste, "Despite what you may hope, it won't teach my brothers responsibility."

One day you will teach this demon manners. This is not the way to greet someone you run into while they're on holiday.

"It's a baby," you say slowly, dragging out the syllables.

"Ooh a baby what?" Diavolo asks, and surely not.

"Something that's easier to train while young, I would hope?" Lucifer asks.

Well. Yes, but...

You squint at him. He stares back impassively, though you do notice the confusion in the way his eyebrows cock unevenly.

"A human baby!" you say incredulously.

Sure, your time in the Devildom was fraught with cultural misunderstandings, but come on. These are two of the most powerful beings in existence. Lucifer has been around since the beginning of time itself.

Diavolo pushes his face in close to the baby, and then you have to rear back as he turns to study you just as intently. Normally you wouldn't mind, but now is not the time or the place.

"It's so small, and squishy," he says.

"It's the weaker version of a human," Lucifer says, though he doesn't look as confident as his tone would have you believe him to be, "it likely needs more time to coalesce more energy."

"Guys," you say with exasperation, "it's a baby. It grows. Physically! And hopefully: mentally and emotionally. It doesn't shapeshift. It doesn't 'coalesce energy'. It just ages."

They're looking at you doubtfully. You really don't think it's that hard to grasp.

"Besides," you add, "this technically isn't even a human's weakest form."

"They get smaller?" Lucifer asks.

It's the first time you've seen him so freaked out.

"How?" Diavolo asks and no you are not going to explain this to him-

"I'm sorry - who are you?"

Sweet, saving grace. Maybe there really is a god looking down on you.

Your friend has returned. She looks apprehensive, though that may have something to do with the rather large, intimidating, obviously rich men huddling around you and her baby. Oh, right.

Your mind scrambles to come up with a good excuse.

"Oh! This is Luci...us," you start, and immediately panic when you realize you were about to use Lucifer's actual name. The demon in question shoots you a glare, but at this point in your relationship you've become immune.

"And this uh..."

Friend? Boss?

Actually. Fuck it. Time for revenge for almost forcing you to explain the birds and the bees to him. And all the other shit you've been through since waking up in the Devildom.

"This is his husband, Dia. They run the exchange program I told you about - the one I spent a year away for. They're actually thinking of adopting at the moment."

Immediately your friend's face brightens. "Oh?" she asks, "what age were you thinking?"

"Actually-" Lucifer starts, but you're not going to let him derail your Evil Plan™.

"Around the same age as yours," you interrupt.

This lights a fire in your friend's eyes, and immediately she starts her whole tirade anew about the lack of sleep and the burping and all the messes and the lack of sleep and the wonders of small humans forming their own consciousness and opinions and the lack of sleep and- well. Basically everything you had been unwittingly subjected to before you were interrupted by the demons.

Diavolo takes all the unwanted and unwarranted information with an enthusiasm that definitely helps play into the fiction you've set up. Beside him, Lucifer is smiling pleasantly, but when his gaze drifts to you and you meet his eyes -

v̴̥͠ȩ̶̃r̶̟̒t̵͚̍i̵͂ͅg̶̱̏o̶̤͠. you're at the edge of a precipice and you're not going to fall. you're i̷̳͝n̸̦̽s̴͔͐i̶͔͠g̴͉̏n̶̯̏i̵̮͑f̷̻̐ȉ̴̩c̴̛̞a̴̛͇n̴̜͠t̶̩́. it would be so easy to be crushed by this abyss-

you smile back just as congenially. Really. You'd think he'd remember that none of his glares work on you anymore. The baby in your arms squirms and holds its own pudgy little arms up towards the Avatar.

Huh. Interesting. That glare of his doesn't work on the kid either.

You're still forced to sit there politely while your friend rambles on about the wonders of human development and the joys of being a parent for another two hours. It's definitely worth it though - the picture of a small, red, wiggly baby being held at arm's length by the Avatar of Pride is one that will live in your memory for lifetimes to come.

Barbatos

Barbatos doesn't quite know when to attribute his creation to. It's never really mattered.

He wandered the Earth before the Fall, before humans. He watched that first creature crawl itself out of the mud. He watched as it crawled and stood and spoke.

He kept a close eye on this species - especially as they began to show intelligence. They created their own laws and measurements and perceptions of Time, which was cute, if a bit misguided.

In some of the early days, he let some of his true nature slip too close to the surface, and in return he was granted offerings of livestock and. Well. Live humans. Young ones. Too young.

There's warmth somewhere near your cheek as a cup of tea is placed down delicately beside where you had been resting on top of your assignments. You snort and a shiver goes through you as consciousness slowly filters back in.

At least there are worst ways to wake than with Barbatos' soft smile to greet you.

"Thank you," he says.

"For what?" you ask. You're still trying to wake up, and one of your sticky notes frees itself from your face and floats back down to the table you were napping working at. Admittedly, the smell of Barbatos' tea is doing wonders.

"For seeing to the education of my Master and his Lords. It wouldn't do for the future King of Hell and his council to be so ignorant in regards to their human subjects."

No way.

"You set me up," you hiss.

A gloved hand comes down on top of your head, and you put up a small token effort of resistance for a moment but no one can truly hold out against such soft head scratches.

"Perhaps," Barbatos says, and you're immediately reminded of why you associate him with snakes. "But it was a learning experience of your own, was it not?"

Thanks for the ask, Anon! 💛 I hope you don't mind the mess that spawned from it...

Back to masterlist | Eldritch Headcanons

#obey me #obey me fic #obey me swd #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #i spent way too long researching what were period-accurate dinosaurs for Levi's part #bc i didnt want to be inaccurate in a fanfiction about theologically incorrect dateable demon boys #priorities #this is why you dont ask a grad student to write about something that can be researched and referenced #mammons section got out of hand but i blame erin for that #BABIES ARE WEIRD ERIN YOU CANT CHANGE MY MIND #is the infodumping to dia and lucifer based on my own experiences from one of my friends who has recently had a kid? you bet it is!!!#i talk to a real human #im a humanities researcher who started in medicine this woke something in me

1K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 2 years

Text

Bliss

AN | It’s just some fluff. But let’s be real, they deserve a break and to have some fun! Can be read as a stand alone or part of the ‘verse! ❤️

Summary | Javi and Dulzura finally go to Spain for their anniversary.

Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.8k

Masterlist | Main, Javier, A Good Man ‘Verse

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Javier hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight. It had been both out of habit - from his time in the DEA and now with his children - and from sheer excitement. He couldn’t believe you’d gone and planned all of this for him; even if you claimed it was for your own selfish reasons as well, it still warmed his heart and made him feel something he couldn’t quite describe. He was still so in love with you.

He turned his attention from the window, from where he could see Spain coming closer and closer, to you. You were sprawled out on the seat next to him, legs stretching across the third seat (unoccupied by some miracle), eyes closed as you snored lightly. You’d fallen asleep about halfway through, exhausted from the long day that the two of you already had; plus you were at the point in your pregnancy when you were constantly tired. Almost as if you felt him watching you or heard his thoughts, you peeked at him with one eye open, "take a picture, it'll last longer Peña."

"Already did," he grinned as you laughed lightly before stretching, "got about ten of you with your mouth hanging open and drooling. I think I should upload those to-"

"Don't you dare, Javier Peña, or…"

"Or what?"

"I can't think of a proper threat," you huffed playfully before leaning over to kiss him, "not when you're looking at me like that, with your dumb handsome face."

"Oh, you think I’m handsome?” he raised an eyebrow as you just groaned at him, “it’s probably the only reason you haven’t killed me yet.”

“There are plenty of reasons, cielito,” you leaned in so you were whispering in his ear, grazing your lips against his jaw, “mostly that I don’t want to raise five children on my own.”

"I had that coming didn't I?" he huffed in amusement as you gently kissed him, "I love you."

"I love you more," you sat back down just in time for the announcement to buckle up. You grinned excitedly as you buckled in and reached for his hand, "almost there! This is so exciting!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first week and a half was spent playing the part of excited tourists. You didn’t even care that you probably looked way too over eager. You were having fun and that was all that mattered. The best part of it all was that you had Javi with you. You couldn’t have asked for a better person to take the trip with. He happily obliged all your little whims, from letting you take pictures of him, taking selfies (he always grumbled that he didn’t get the appeal but would never say no to you), taking pictures of you (his favorite thing), stopping at the little street side vendors and trying all the little hole in the way restaurants and hopes.

But your favorite thing? Getting to watch Javi relax and have fun, without having to worry about anything else. If anyone deserved a little break, it was him.

“I like this,” you said between spoonfuls of ice cream, as he turned to look at you, “being here on vacation. With you. Not having to worry about anything for a little while. Part of me wishes it could be this way forever.”

“Me too,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head, “you’d miss them you know. Home isn’t too bad either.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I like it there too. But maybe we could do this once in a while too, just you and I.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” he felt choked up by how gentle and soft you were being, caught up in the moment, “come on, I see you eyeing that museum. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure? I feel like I’ve dragged you through so many…”

“That may be so,” he took your hand, “but I like going with you. Come on.”

“Fuck me,” you whispered under your breath, “how do you still manage to make me fall in love with you every day?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he was practically glowing, “now come on! There’s no time to waste!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Dulzura…" his voice was so gentle and soft, you were sure that you were still dreaming. You felt the drag of his lips across your bare shoulder, making a small sound as you burrowed further into your pillow. You heard him laugh quietly before an arm wrapped around your waist, "baby."

"Javi," his name was sweet as honey off your lips as you rolled over to face him. He was watching you with bright eyes, his hair a mess and sticking up at all angles. A playful little smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "you're so handsome, my love.”

"Mmm," he hummed quietly as he reached up and cupped your cheek, "happy anniversary, mi Dulzura."

"Happy anniversary, Javier," you turned so you could press a kiss to his palm, "here's to today and many more. All of them. Forever with you."

"Forever," he agreed before moving so you were caged between his arms. He leaned down to kiss you, letting his lips linger gently before nudging your nose with his, "beautiful, gorgeous girl. Can I make love to you?"

"Yes," he could feel you smiling against his lips, "please."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Almost ready?" Javier came out of the ensuite bathroom to find you in front of the mirror, holding up and contemplating two different bathing suits, "everything okay, Dulzura?"

"Yes," you shrugged, "I'm just…I know I'm being overly critical, but I don't know which one to wear."

He looked over the two options and he immediately could see what you were talking about. One of the options was a more modest one piece and the other was a more colorful (and if he was being completely honest sexy) two piece. Javier knew you would look stunning in either, "well, which do you feel like wearing?"

"They're both nice but I think one piece would be better-”

"That's not what I asked," he said softly as he came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder, "which one would you like to wear today?"

"The two piece."

"Then you'll wear the two piece," he insisted, offering you a smile in the mirror. You couldn't help but smile back, "you don't have to tell me what you're thinking, because I think I know, but I want you to know that you are the most stunning, beautiful woman I have ever met. Nothing’s ever going to change that. I love you more than I could ever put into words."

"Thank you," your voice was almost inaudible as you turned around to properly hug him, "you always know to say."

"What can I say? I try," he kissed your cheek before a hand slid down your back and to grab at your ass, "you'd look sexy in anything."

"Insatiable," you giggled, playfully slapping his chest, "good thing I want you just as much."

"Fuck," he groaned softly, "we better stop or we're not going to make it out of the room today."

"Doesn't sound too bad to me," you winked, "but you're right. It's our anniversary and I was promised a seaside sunset dinner. Let me just change real quick and we'll be good to go."

"Menace," you heard him say under his breath before something in Spanish you didn't quite catch. You loved getting him this flustered; you loved that you still had managed to have that effect on time after all this time.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javi,” you gently nudged his leg with yours, causing him to look from his book, “I want to go in the water. Come swimming with me.”

“I was wondering when you were going to ask,” he marked his page and snapped his book shut, “I’d love to you. One thing first - I think it’s time for more sunscreen.”

“You’re looking for any reason to touch me, aren’t you?” you stuck your tongue at him before handing over the bottle of the lotion, “not that I’m complaining of course.”

“I just want to make sure you and bump are safe from the sun’s harmful rays,” he gently smoothed the sunscreen across your back, his hands reaching over every part of your body.

“Me and bump?” you giggled softly, “is that what we’re calling the baby now? I’m not even…okay it’s kind of there. I’m only like 10 weeks right now. I swear it shows earlier each time.”

“It’ll be a real bump soon enough,” you could practically hear the smile in his voice as he motioned for you to turn around, “and we don’t know what it is, so for right now, bump.”

“I don’t want to find out,” you confessed, “last kid - I want it to be a surprise.”

“I like the sound of that,” he gently started to lotion your front, taking care to make sure your shoulders were properly covered as well as your chest and stomach, where his touch was just that much extra gentle, “besides, I guarantee you it’s going to be a girl.”

“Look at that dear husband,” you brushed some curls out of his face before taking the bottle from him, “fifth kid and we finally agree on what it will be. Come on, let me get you. Just because you tan doesn’t mean you won’t burn!”

Javier made a small sound in his throat as you gently made sure his entire body was properly covered. It didn’t help that you skimmed your fingers along the waistband of his trunks, dipping them just under to touch him lightly, He coughed into his hand to cover up a small groan that escaped his lips despite his best efforts.

“There,” you smudged a little on his nose before quickly stealing a kiss from him, “all set, my love. Now we just have to wait about fifteen minutes and then into the water we go!”

You shifted so you were next to him, laying your head on his chest, “will you read to me?”

“You really want me to read A Tale of Two Cities to you?” he reached for his glasses and slipped them before reopening his book, “are you aware that this isn’t exactly the most exciting book?”

“I don’t care,” you insisted, “I could listen to the sound of your voice all day. You could read the toothpaste packaging to me and I’d still love it.”

“Aye,” he chided but there was a smile on face nonetheless. He found his spot on the page, “here we are…”

By the time Javier stopped, you were close to sleep and enough time had passed for you to be able to swim. He gently helped you sit up, before reaching for the sunglasses atop your head, taking them off and tossing them onto your towel. There was that mischievous little glint in his eye, and you knew immediately what was going through his mind.

“Javier,” you wiggled out of his grasp, but he had better reflexes, “Javier Peña don’t you dare!”

“Come on, sweet little wife,” his voice was saccharine but you could hear the teasing lilt in his voice, “I just want to hold you, is that so wrong?”

“You’re up to no good!” you shrieked with laughter as you managed to get to your feet in a vain attempt to get away from him, “no! Don’t do this to your wife! To your unborn child! Think of bump!”

“Bump wants to go for a swim,” he laughed as he easily caught up and wrapped his arms around your waist and held you to him. He managed to pick you, slowly carrying you towards the water as you meekly tried to get away, “you wanted to swim in the ocean, I’m only helping you!”

“No!” you were breathless from your laughter by now, “don’t dump me in!”

“I’m gently putting you in,” he kissed the top of your head, before stepping into the water, gently letting you so you could get your bearings, “see? I’m not that bad.”

“Javi,” you dipped below the surface, getting fully immersed in the water before coming back up, “I love you, silly man! Hey, I’ll race you to that little sandbar over there!”

“You’re so on!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Javi,” you poked your head out of the bathroom, trying to locate him in the large hotel room, “cielito?”

“I’m here,” he called to you, “on the balcony. Everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just…this is silly, but can you leave until we go to dinner?” you bit the inside of your cheek as he stepped inside and caught your eye, “I know it’s silly…it’s just…please?”

“Whatever you want, Dulzura,” his thumb gently stroked your cheek, “I’ll finish getting dressed in here and then I’ll go and wait outside. I’ll meet you at the restaurant?

“Si,” you agreed, “gracias, mi amor.”

His hands found your face, as he gently leaned in and kissed you. It was just a simple, sweet thing, but left butterflies in your stomach, “see you soon.”

Javier dressed quickly in what he had brought for your anniversary dinner; he knew it wasn’t necessary to dress up, but he had wanted to. He wanted to make this evening as special as possible - after all, ten years of marriage was nothing to scoff at. The time with you had been the best years of his life.

When he had first laid eyes on as he’d called out your name while going through the roster, he knew you were different. But never in a million years would he have guessed just how important you would become to him. More than important - you were…his everything. His sunshine on even the darkest days, having managed to pull him and rescue him more times than he could count. You had given him so much, your time, your love, children, a home; you were not only his wife, you were truly his best friend, his partner in everything, the love of his life, his media naranja. You had single handedly taken everything he thought he knew and turned it upside down.

He stopped along one of the stands on his walk to the beachside restaurant and picked up a bouquet of the same flowers he’d gotten for you on your wedding day. It wasn’t much, but he hoped you would like them nevertheless. He was practically bouncing over to the restaurant, looking over the horizon to see the sun beginning to set. The timing was perfect.

He’d grabbed his phone out of his pocket, deciding to take a picture of the beautiful scenery. He was so invested in making sure he was getting a decent picture that he hadn’t heard you approach until he heard you say, “hello there, Señor Peña.”

Javier almost dropped his phone, fumbling with it instead before stuffing into his pocket to turn to his. When he finally turned to you, his mouth almost dropped open; how was it possible for you to be this beautiful? You watched him drink you in, tilted your head to the side and gave him a sweet little smile.

“What?” your face flushed with warmth at his intent gaze, “do you like it?”

“You look beautiful,” he managed to choke out. You were wearing a white dress, simple and understated but it fit you perfectly and made you look even more ethereal than ever. You’d put on the diamond necklace he’d gotten you as an anniversary present and kept your hair and makeup more natural. His breath hitched into throat as he tried to keep it together, “you’re so beautiful. Fuck me. How did I get so lucky?”

“Javi,” you put your hand on his cheek before leaning in to kiss him gently, “I…maybe it’s silly, but I didn’t wear a white dress when we got married and I figured since this is the honeymoon we never had and our tenth wedding anniversary, what better time? Is it okay? Or too much?”

“It’s perfect,” he promised softly, “you’re perfect.”

“Far from it,” you fanned your hand at your eyes to keep any tears at bay, “what about you? You look amazing, Javi. You just keep getting sexier, it’s really not fair. But you’re mine - as I am yours - so I’m not really missing out, am I?”

“Happy anniversary, mi Dulzura,” he held up the flowers to you and you made a small sound of excitement at them, “te amo con todo.”

“They’re beautiful, Javier,” you clutched them gently to your chest. You studied him; he was dressed in fitted gray dress pants and a crisp white button that fit him way too well. It was simple, but he still managed to look so handsome, “wait…these are the same as the bouquet you got me on our wedding day, oh Javi.”

“I hope you like them.”

“I love them - I love you,” you wrapped your arms and hugged him tightly, “thank you. I…I didn’t get you anything! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

“What about this trip?” he asked as he brushed a few locks of hair out of your face, “what about bump? What about that blowjob earlier-”

“Pendejo,” you giggled as you swatted his chest before whispering, “you can have another later too, if you’d like.”

“You’re going to kill me,” he rasped, “as much as I’d like to do that right now, we’ve got reservations. And I believe my beautiful wife wanted dinner by the beach under the sunset in Mallorca.”

“Thank you, Javier,” you squeezed his hand as you both started to walk the short distance to the restaurant, “thank you for everything. I love you more than you will ever know.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“This is the part where I’d toast to us,” you picked up your glass of sparkling water and lightly clinked it against his, “but I can’t drink right now, we’ll pretend this is champagne. You could have had a drink, Javi.”

“I know,” he picked up his glass and playfully saluted you before taking a long swig, “but where’s the fun in that? Besides, solidarity baby.”

“Hmm,” you took a drink of water, sitting back and taking a moment to look out at the ocean, watching as the last of the orange and pink hues faded into pastel blues and purples. It was wonderful, just like everything today had been, “it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, his eyes never leaving you, “absolutely beautiful.”

“Happy anniversary, Javier,” you reached across the table, putting your hand on top of his as you gave his a squeeze, “I love you.”

“Happy anniversary, Dulzura,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “how are you feeling? Are you tired?”

“No more than normal,” you gave him a curious little look, “what are you thinking? As if I didn’t already know..”

“Not that,” he playfully scoffed, “okay, well maybe that too. But, I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a little walk on the beach.”

“How very romantic of you, Javier,” you nudged his foot with yours, “I’d love to.”

“The romance is still alive and well baby,” he winked, “only for you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It never failed to amaze you at how perfectly your hand fit in his…like his hand was meant to hold yours. He’d caught you looking at your entwined hands a few times, but didn’t comment on it. He wasn’t sure if he could even put what he was feeling into words.

You’d both forgone your shoes, walking in the sand where the water was gently lapping onto the beach. There was a lingering bit of warmth filling the air along with the smell of fresh salt air. Neither of you spoke much, but then again, there wasn’t anything either of you felt compelled to say. That was not, until he caught you staring at him.

“What?” he asked when he noticed your furrowed brows. You tugged on his hand and pulled him against you, “I know that look - what’s on your mind?”

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told you before?” you bit the inside of your cheek as he nodded, watching you with curiosity, “I…umm…”

“Is everything okay?��

“It’s not even anything bad, it’s just silly,” you admitted with a sheepish smile, “I almost dropped out of your class. After that first day and then again after our first date.”

“Oh?” his eyebrows shot up in surprise as you shrugged innocently, “why? Did I scare you?”

“It wasn’t you, Javi,” you kissed his cheek and he relaxed slightly, “not exactly. I…panicked. After the first class it was…different. I already knew that it was going to be different then. And I thought maybe it would be better to dip while I had the chance.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” you grinned, “I figured nothing was wrong, nothing happened. Why fight it? Then after the time we went out at the café, I realized just how much I liked you. How could you like someone you were still getting to know that much? It scared me - all these feelings and I wondered if you felt the same or if it was just me. I’d never - and still never have - felt that way about someone before. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with you, Javier.”

“You worried that…I wouldn’t like you as much?” he let out a nervous breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in, “and that whole time I was worried about running you off.”

“That really worked out,” you snorted with laughter, “I guess we really are stuck with each other, aren’t we?”

“No one else I’d rather be stuck with,” his hands found your face as he gently kissed you, “I love you.”

“What about Steve?”

“I love you slightly less now,” he tried to keep a straight face but dissolved into laughter when you pinched his side.

“You know what, if we have another boy I’m naming him Steve,” you backed away from him, grinned from ear to ear before starting to run, “you can’t stop me! If it’s a girl, Stevenia!”

“Never,” he shook his head before running after you, finding you much quicker than he expected, “you cheated!”

“I did not! Just because you have slow reflexes, old man!”

“You’re asking for it-”

“Not a threat if you don’t catch me!” you kept running but Javier quickly caught up, grabbing your hand to stop you and pull you towards him. You somehow managed to trip over your own foot and stumbled backwards, taking him down with you. Instinctively he managed to cushion your fall, landing on the soft sand with you on top of him, “oops…I guess I’m the threat.”

“What am I going to do with you?” he settled his hands on your hips as you just offered him a small grin. He sat up so you were perched in his lap before he kissed you, “I guess I’ll keep you.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” he agreed softly, “let’s get back to the hotel and get cleaned off.”

“Good idea,” you slowly moved to stand up, offering your hand to help him, “you know…it’s still early. I don’t think I’m very tired yet.”

“I like the way you think,” he grinned, “happy anniversary, Dulzura.”

“Happy anniversary, cielito.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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geo-winchester · 2 years

Note

congrats on 300 followers! can you do 1 and 29 from the romance prompts with steven grant?

LOVE

Prompts: 1. “you want books? how many? screw it, i’ll buy you the whole damn store.” + 29. “fucking marry me.”

A/N: hi anon! Thank you for your request, I know it took me a while to write it and I’m sooo sorry for that, I been pretty busy lately, any way I hope everyone enjoy this and if anyone have a request please let me know!

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

———————

Steven remember the first time he saw you, it was your first trip to the museum and since the moment he couldn’t keep his eyes from you, he feel that every time you came in to the museum his day get better, he even forgot about Donna, but all that joy disappear when you get in to the other areas of the museum, until one day when he was on his way for his lunch he noticed you, looking at one of the armors, he didn’t know why but he walk behind you, when you look around he pretend to be looking at one of the exposure but the minute you start to walk again he follow you, he noticed that you sat on a bench as you write something on a paper, you put it on the bench before you start to walk again, Steven was confused about your actions but he walk to the bench and took the paper, he could feel his cheeks blush as he read it.

“Are you going to talk to me or you just going to follow me like a perv?”

He scan the place until he found you watching a sculpture, he sigh before he start to make his way to you and stand next to you.

-You know Imhotep is consider the pioneer of medicine- he said, you smiled.

-So the perv speak- you giggle at his blush.

-I’m really sorry about that you must think I’m a little crazy…

-Just a little- he giggles, the two of you spend the evening together, you laugh every time he told you a joke -so beside of been a perv you know a lot about your thing about Egypt?- he nod -you should work here then- he point at the name tag -Steven?

-Steven with a V- you smile.

-So you get pay to stalk people- he laugh.

-I work at the gift shop.

-That’s interesting, by the way you show me everything I thought you were a tour guy.

-I wish, I try to make my boss to give me a chance.

-And when you became one, can I have a private tour?

-I’ll give you what ever you want, love.

-Love?- you asked making him blush - I like how it sounds- you said -you know, with that nickname now we have something in common- he look at you interested -there’s a V in our names- he smile.

-Fucking marry me- you look the panic in his eyes when he notice he said out loud.

-Maybe later big boy, but we can have lunch together.

He lead you to the cafeteria and recommend you his favorite dessert, he couldn’t help but smile when you order it and wait to see your face when you had the first bite, you have to admitted that it was pretty good but you were more happy with his company. He was interesting in your story and unlike other men, he really listen to you, he asked question about you and laugh about a few embarrassing moments, you like to be around him.

-so…- you said, after a long pause- you have any good book about Egypt in the gift shop?

-you want books? how many? screw it, i’ll buy you the whole damn books in the shop- you couldn’t help but laugh.

-You should be selling them not buying them- you said making him laugh.

-Yes we have books but… if you want to… I can lend you some of my collection- you smile.

-I like that, I’ll come here every time I’m done…

-Or… you can go to my place and pick any book you like- he said.

-That’s better- you said with a smile -can I be honest with you?- he nod -I came here not only because I’m interest in history, the first time I came here I saw you and I was trying get the courage to talk to you so it was a good thing that you were a perv today- he smile, he lean getting close to you but before he could kiss you, someone yelled his name.

-Fuck, I have to go back- you nod as you giggled -but I’ll promise I’ll kiss you on the next date- you smile.

-Goodbye, Steven with a V- you said and kiss his cheek -I’ll be waiting that kiss- he smirk.

-Goodbye, Love with a V- he said.

Xxxxx

Tag list: @anetteaneta @writefightandflightclub @mariesackler @multifandomlife22 @mattmurdocksscars @phoenixhalliwell @autumnleaves1991-blog @supernovafeather @ofstarsandvibranium @santigarcia @itspdameronthings @ahookedheroespureheart @later-gators12

If you want me to add you to my taglist please let me know🙈

#steven grant x reader #steven x reader #steven grant #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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Part 1 Wanda x Reader

Summary: You bump into Wanda Maximoff at a grocery store. Wouldn’t be a problem if either of you were anyone else but you two were no ordinary people.

You would think having the ability to take anyone’s power would be awesome. It’s not.

With a simple touch, you could take any person with special abilities’ special powers from them. You figured this out in grade school when you high-fived one of your friends for the first time. Suddenly you could see through walls. That same year, you figured out they could take those powers back.

A few years later you found out they could only take those powers back if they wanted them. You tried giving someone their invisibility back but they would not have it. Now you are stuck with it. You are stuck with a few others too, like walking through walls and mimicking voices. Those you got from random strangers on the street.

Obviously, you tried to give them back. You wouldn’t take what isn’t yours, but it was an impossible task. Finding a stranger you bumped into in New York is kind of hard.

You’ve tried passing off powers to other people but it never worked. You could only return them to the person who gave them to you. To give them back, all you had to do was touch them again and they had to want the powers back. It was that simple.

So when you bump into Wanda Maximoff at the grocery store, things get a little complicated.

You’ve made a friend recently who turns out to be Sokovian. Seeing as his birthday is coming up, you thought it would be cool to cook him a traditional Sokovian meal. A few searches on Google and you print out a list of what you need.

You leave to the nearest store that would have all you need. You check off your list, heading toward the aisle of spices. You finally find the one the recipe calls for and lucky for you, it’s the last one. You reach for it but you feel someone else’s hand touching yours, reaching for the same thing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says. You look at the woman who is standing really close to you for a stranger. She has intense green eyes, you notice. She pulls her hand away.

“It’s alright,” you say.

“Was that the last one?” she asks, awkwardly.

“It seems so,” you confirm. “But we can ask an employee if they have more somewhere?”

You flag down an employee two aisles down and ask. They shake their head and then tell you they won’t be getting more until next week. The woman with the green eyes sighs.

“We can split it,” you suggest. “I don’t need the whole thing. At least I don’t think so? I just need it to make a Sokovian dish that calls for it. I probably won’t be using it for anything else.”

“I don’t know. Sokovian food is delicious if I may say so. You’ll get a taste and might regret sharing this with a stranger,” she teases.

You smile and ask, “Oh, are you Sokovian?”

She nods and you add, “Well, then I insist on sharing it with you. Maybe you can actually give me a few tips on this recipe?”

“What are you making?” she asks you. You show her the recipe on your phone and she kindly shares some of her expertise which you’re grateful for. She follows you around the store making conversation as you grab the rest of what you need. Technically, you follow her around as she suggests you other stuff to add to the recipe.

You add a mini mason jar to your cart. You both head to pay and outside pour some of the spice into your mason jar and give her the rest of the bottle. You thank her for all the help and wish her a great day.

Wanda gets back to the tower in a positive mood. Everyone notices and asks her what happened. She replies that she just had a nice interaction with a stranger and it made her day.

Though her day was made, the rest of her week was hell. She doesn’t know what is wrong with her. Her powers have been failing her. She doesn’t understand. At first she thinks it’s just the more difficult things she can’t do but then she notices how no one’s thoughts appear in her head. It’s quiet. She only hears her own.

Something was definitely wrong.

You thought you were imagining things but after guessing what your friends’ were thinking for the umpteenth time, you knew you had taken someone else’s power.

You don’t think it’s too bad at first. Only your friends’ heavy thoughts made their way into your head. Unfortunately, some of those thoughts you can never unhear again.

The problem comes when you go to the library for the first time with this new power. The library is hell. It’s full of people who are just thinking loudly. See in public, there are people who are thinking loudly of course, but there are more people distracted and speaking without thinking, which you never thought you would be so grateful for.

You don’t last in the library for very long. So libraries are on your list of places to avoid. Soon, movie theaters are also on that list and then so are museums. Any place where people are meant to be quiet is where it’s loudest in your head.

You wish you knew who you touched to get these powers. You begin to think back at everyone the past few weeks that you might have had direct contact with. A hand you shook or an arm you bumped into. You’ve always been cautious about your surroundings so these things wouldn’t happen.

Everyone you greeted at your Sokovian friend’s party you’ve greeted before. No one was new there. The Sokovian at the store!

Damn it. You never got her name or anything. Maybe you’ll encounter her at the store again. The next few days, you spend hours at the same store. People begin to think you’re an employee and you almost feel like one, knowing exactly where everything is from spending so much time there.

You’ve even made plans with one employee to go hangout. But no green eyed Sokovian makes an appearance.

Three weeks you have this power when you find that not only can you read people’s thoughts, but you hold things without actually touching them. It happens when you drop something in the kitchen. You reach for it to catch it before it hits the floor but it’s nowhere near your grasp. However, it never hits the floor.

You then notice a red mist-like substance coming from your hands floating in the direction of the object. You see that it’s holding it up. After that, you start practicing with random things around your apartment. You begin with lighter things, thinking you would only be able to hold weight that you could in your actual arms, but it is not so.

You work your way up to lifting your car in the air and in that same moment you learn you could do multiple things like lifting your car and replacing the flat tire.

Two months with these abilities and you feel you start getting the hang of it. You still can’t go to the library. You’ve tried again but the voices are too loud. You still go to the store where you met the woman that unintentionally gifted you these powers to try and return them. She seemed like a decent person and you don’t know what she used these powers for. Maybe she needs them.

You still have yet to find her.

Wanda hasn’t been on a mission in three months. Instead, Bruce has been poking and prodding her with needles and running countless tests trying to figure out what happened with her powers. Three weeks ago she began to go to a therapist because Steve thought it might be a mental block of some sort that she had to work through.

Though therapy was doing wonders for her, they weren’t getting her anywhere near having her powers back. Bruce’s tests weren’t helpful either. She’s been stuck in the tower for three months and her days have never felt so repetitive until now- train, go to therapy, undergo tests. Rinse and repeat.

The media had begun to notice as well. She turns to another TV channel where the news anchor asks “Where is Wanda Maximoff?” as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth. In a way she has.

Fortunately for her, you are watching that same channel. You are cooking dinner and have the television channel on for background noise. You hear them talking about the Avengers. They’ve never been of much interest to you, although they should be seeing as though you live in the same city and something is always going down here because of that reason.

“For those who have been living under a rock,” the new anchor starts, “Wanda Maximoff is one of the newer additions to the Avengers.”

“She’s the one with the red magic, isn’t she?” the co-anchor asks. That grabs your attention. You turn to look at the screen. “That’s right. She joined about a year ago after the fall of Sokovia.”

That had to be a coincidence, right?

“She hasn’t been reported to be on any missions the last three months,” the reporter continues. That definitely couldn’t be a coincidence, you think, counting back the time you’ve attained these powers.

“Here is a clip of Maximoff using her magic to save diplomats at the embassy five months ago when…” You don’t hear the rest as you watch the clip play.

It’s the green eyed Sokovian who helped you out at the market. Your suspicions about it being her who had these powers were correct. You just didn’t think you took powers from an Avenger. Someone who definitely needs these powers to do her job and save people like the clip shows. Shit.

You smell the food you’re cooking burning.

“Shit!”

Wanda pounds her hand on the mat. Sweat clings onto her shirt. She’s tired and out of breath.

“Again,” Nat commands. Wanda huffs and stands up, getting back into her fighting pose. She takes a swing that the Black Widow easily dodges. Not two moves later, she hits the mat again.

“Again,” Nat repeats.

“Natasha, give the kid a break,” Steve says, watching from the side.

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures him.

Natasha explains, “If therapy and tests aren’t working, maybe self defense will.”

Steve seems doubtful but allows it. They really need Wanda to work through whatever is blocking her from using her powers. He winces seeing Wanda hit the mat.

“Again.”

“I’ve told you for the millionth time. My name is Y/N L/N and I need to speak to Wanda Maximoff. Or any of the Avengers, really. Or even one of their assistants or something. It’s vital,” you try helplessly.

“Unless you have clearance, I can’t let you up,” the guy at the desk says to you for what feels like the hundredth time. You’ve been coming in the past few days trying to get someone to let you see Wanda.

“Look, it’s really important. Can’t you, like, give her a message or something?” You’re desperate at this point. He laughs.

“Ah, yes, let me just text her real quick. ‘hey Wanda. It’s that one guy you said hello to once downstairs. There’s some girl here that needs to talk to you’,” he acts out sarcastically, which you do not find amusing.

“Listen, buddy. If you do me this favor and get your boss or whoever can give me clearance to see her, I promise she’ll be so grateful for you helping me get to her that she’ll come and thank you herself,” you vow.

“I can’t help you, Miss. Now please go or I’ll have to call security,” he warns.

You rub your temple in frustration. “Fine. There’s no need for that...Michael,” you read his name. “I’m going.”

You turn around as if to head for the door but then do a 180 and sprint past a security guard who shouts at you to stop. You make your way for the elevators as the security guard runs after you. You press the button for the elevators but you notice they’re nowhere near the ground floor.

The security catches up to you and in panic, you push him away with Wanda’s powers. He goes sliding across the floor and you bolt for the stairs.

You don’t even know which floor you would find Wanda in but you assume it would be somewhere up top. You begin your ascend. You reach the fourth floor and realize you should start using the StairMaster at the gym. You hear multiple security guards quickly making their way to you. You panic and walk through the wall, not knowing what was on the other side.

You’re in some kind of engineering lab. You don’t think anyone saw you walk through the wall, so you try to act casual and stroll through the lab trying to find an exit. Then you hear someone call you. “Hey, you.”

You ignore them and act like you didn’t hear. They tell you to stop walking, loud enough that you can’t ignore it. You turn around to see a woman in a lab coat. She asks, “You’re not allowed on this floor. Who let you up here?”

“Oh, uh. Michael sent me,” you lie. “Sorry, I’m new. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. Maybe you could help me find my way?”

“Where are you meant to be working?” she inquires and you’re stuck not knowing anything about the Stark Tower or Avengers Tower, whatever it’s called.

“The lab,” you say. Your vague answer obviously creates another question. “What lab?”

“They haven’t told me yet? I’m not actually working in the labs. I’m doing more secretarial duties, taking notes and scheduling stuff.”

“For whom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at you. You can feel her catching onto you and it’s the only reason why you try this.

“For the big guy, obviously,” you say and then focus really hard trying to read her mind, hoping that a name will pop up in her head. Did Bruce get an assistant? You smile. “Bruce.”

“Well then you are way off. He’s usually working on the 87th floor,” she tells you.

“Well, thank god there’s an elevator,” you chuckle nervously, pointing behind you. “Well, I should get going before I’m any later. You turn around confidently but as you walk away she stops you once more. You think you got caught but she says, “Elevators are that way.”

She points to the opposite way you came from. You laugh to play off your mistake, “Duh. Sorry, the lab is so big. Thanks.”

You head the right way. You speed walk to the elevators and then jog when you hear a rougher voice telling you to stop. “She’s on the fourth floor.”

You assume they spoke into their walkie, and you know you don't have much time before they catch you. You think quickly. You can’t make your way to the elevator because then obviously they’ll just stop the elevators. You don’t want to walk through a wall; the dangers of that are extreme given this is Stark Tower. You could accidentally walk into an ongoing experiment.

You had to hide. And suddenly, you had the perfect plan.

The security guard runs to you. He thinks you’re running for the elevator but then you turn before you get there. He sees you dive behind some clunky machine, presumably to hide behind. You clearly never have won a game of hide and seek in your life, he thinks as he goes around the machine to catch you.

He’s left utterly confused when you aren’t there. The only trace of you are your clothes down to underwear on the floor. Four other guards make it to the floor. One asks him, “Where is she?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. “She was right here. Search the floor. She’s hiding and I think she’s naked.”

They disperse taking your clothes with them. You let out a breath of relief at not getting caught but then mentally curse that they took your clothes. You still haven’t learned how to make other things invisible yet. You never really used this power. Maybe you should start practicing.

You hustle your naked ass to the elevators, feeling incredibly exposed even though you know no one can actually see you. You press the elevator button and wait impatiently. It dings and opens.

“The elevators!” You hear one of the guards yell. Two run your way as you step into the car. You put all your energy into staying invisible. It would be really awkward if you were suddenly exposed. You hold your breath when one of them looks in the elevator. You keep yourself in the corner furthest away from them. In their eyes, there is no one in the elevator.

“She’s not here.” They leave and the doors close. You click the button for the 87th floor.

____________________________________________________

This will probably have 3 parts.

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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