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keigosbirdie · 3 years

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FEMALE READER VERSION

Of all Hawks’ secrets, you are the most well-kept.

Version: Female Reader version | Male Reader Version Links: Gifset (art only) | Mood Music

NIGHTHAWK Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 13k | Art: 14 animations, 2 stills (Technically no spoilers, but if you aren’t caught up on the events of the manga you’ll be missing important context. The fic takes place after Hawks’ meeting with the commission.) Synopsis: Casual was the word you used when you first agreed to sleep together. As weeks turned into months turned into a year, those quick and dirty nights blossomed into private moments that earned him little pieces of you. Warnings: Dom!Hawks, Nurse!Reader, animalistic behavior, rough sex, quirk/feather play, light bondage, biting, praise kink, hurt/comfort, secret relationship, talk of past lovers, mentions of death, panic attacks, PTSD, mention of a past, non-canon event. Spicy, then bitter, then sweet.

There was nothing exceptional about your life from an outsider’s perspective. You lived in an apartment on the outskirts of Jaku City, unmarried and childless. During the day you attended medical school where you studied for your doctorate. During the evening you worked as a nurse in the intensive care unit. Then, when you were home, you sat alone for dinner at a kitchen table meant for two.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

For the past year, however, an occasional tap at your sixteenth-story window would break up the lonely monotony. The tap was quite a scandalous secret, not that anyone would believe you if you let it slip. Even you still had a hard time accepting the bizarre reality of the situation; but it was real. Just as real his voice, which you could hear echoing faintly through your apartment.

You glanced up from your lukewarm dinner and dropped your fork. For a long moment, you sat in silence, listening intently until you heard it again. It was him; it was his voice. Your heart pounded against your ribs as you shoved out of your chair and jogged to the window. The part between your curtains opened, but when you peeked through you saw only the glow of city lights below a blanket of darkness.

A frown found your face, and a sigh spilled past your lips. You heard his voice; you would never mistake it for another. It echoed casually against your dim walls again, and you turned your head towards the sweet sound. The television was on in the living room. Your heart dropped at the realization. The little square thing sat on your end table and taunted you with his image.

There he was. Hawks, the winged hero, being interviewed by a woman in a pantsuit. It wasn’t often he did interviews, so you left your dinner to go cold in favor of watching the program.

He was dressed in his hero costume, his visor lifted to rest atop his blond, wind-whipped hair, and his scarlet wings folded politely against his back. A wide grin graced his face as he exchanged charming banter with the woman. She seemed enamored with his expression, but she didn't know him like you knew him. He was smiling, yes, but the edges of his eyes were crinkled with tension. When he chuckled, his wings folded a little harder against his back. His beats of laughter were calculated. Uncomfortable, that's what he was.

He’d been that way a lot lately.

"So, I'm sorry, I have to ask- Every bachelorette in the country is wondering, is there any special lady in your life?" the interviewer asked. It was airy and friendly in intent, but your lip twitched with faint annoyance anyway. Your face fell slack and you leaned back into your chair.

"Well, I don't know about every bachelorette," he quipped. His face was a little grainy on your old TV screen, but you could see the slight pink in his cheeks. He was cute. So, very cute. It made you miss him that much more. "But my personal life, well, how alluring would I be if I didn't keep a few things a mystery?"

And a mystery it was, to everyone but you.

Thankfully, the woman interviewing him had enough tact to know when to move on. Their conversation mercifully veered away from his sex life—your sex life—and towards his agency. The television was a wondrous thing. His voice rang through your home despite his absence. It brought sadness, but also a bittersweet comfort. Viewing him live stung your soul. You watched until his interview ended with a commercial break, and then decided not to wait up for him again. That would only lead to another sleepless night.

Still, the window remained unlocked for him as you called it a night. The yellow glow of your desk lamp died with a click, and you climbed into your bed. Sleep was always difficult. Many nights you laid awake as you thought about your ICU patients. The things you saw in the ward were enough to scar anyone. But if it wasn’t work that plagued your mind, it was him.

Casual was the word you’d used when you’d first agreed to sleep together. It was easy to swallow when he only snuck into your apartment at night for sex. For the first few months, that was it. He’d steal into your home through the cover of darkness and you’d share a violently passionate night. Then, he would vanish out your window until he craved you again. Which, thankfully, was often.

As weeks turned into months turned into a year, however, those quick and dirty nights blossomed into private moments that earned him little pieces of you. You realized you were in too deep when it became difficult to be unbothered by the casual daydreaming of others. His face was clipped to girls’ backpacks long before you knew him, but others, covered so openly in his merchandise, began to make you a touch bitter. His sex life had been speculated about in tabloids since his debut, but to keep your mouth shut while your friends contemplated the size of his penis became hurtful and emotionally taxing.

The only one you could confide those pains in was the man who unintentionally caused them, but Hawks was too sweet. If he knew just how much it tore you up, he’d surely break things off to spare you the misery.

You cursed yourself for getting lost in thoughts of him. Bemoaning the casual chatter of others as he gracefully balanced the weight of the world on his shoulders made you feel weak. You allowed your eyes to close, your breathing slowed, and your body relaxed into your mattress. By the mercy of whatever god watched over you, sleep slowly overtook all your other thoughts.

At least until a shuffle and a squeak made you toss in your sheets. A faint light spilled into your room from the window, and a coolness settled into your bed. You shivered. It was the fresh winter air from outside. The cold wasn't the only intruder. It was him.

The light was dim, but a dark silhouette of flared wings blocked out the moonbeams. Your heart lurched in your chest at the dominant display. It was a habit of the bird in him to fluff up when his blood was hot. His predatory energy kept you submissively silent rather than greet him.

Floorboards creaked beneath his shoes. The pulls of their zippers clicked with the movement. His breath was heavy as he moved to your bed. You caught a vision of your lover’s face. Little flecks of snow followed in. They danced around the brilliance of his wings and settled into his hair. In the blue light of winter’s night, his gold eyes looked dazzling. They also harbored a glint of violence akin to the blown-out eyes of a predator in pursuit of prey.

It was a familiar look from the strange animal. He’d seemed so open and friendly when he’d first snuck into your hospital room to talk, but he shrugged away at hugs and only laughed awkwardly when you told him he was your best friend. He didn't understand that kind of closeness.

You’d learned how deep his discomfort ran through him when the relationship became sexual. His inept understanding of touch translated to violence in the bedroom. Sex was most comfortable for him when he thought of it as a battle. He'd hold you down and force you open. You'd dig teeth into his arms and rip out feathers with your fists. To submit to his pounding was capture, but to overstimulate him until he was too weak to hold you down was victory. Extreme? Perhaps to those who didn’t understand your trust in one another.

He'd at least offer a sappy hello before he pulled his dick out, though. Not tonight. He eyed you as if expecting you to run, as if he'd give chase if you decided to. Fuck, it caused the warmest tingle between your thighs. You’d missed him too badly to try to put up a fight.

He left his jacket abandoned on the floor, which offered a much better view of his slim body wrapped in his black bodysuit. His canines dug into the leather of his glove before he yanked his hand free with his teeth. You laid silent and already breathless. It'd been far too long since you last felt him. Your body was hot with need at the sight of his rigid wings alone. His eyes swept over you as he toyed with the front of his tan jeans. He didn't come very often in uniform. To watch him fondle himself through his costume was- god, was there a stronger word than ecstasy?

“I want you,” he said from your bedside.

"You can have me..." You breathed out. It was intended to sound sultry, but your tone was more akin to a pleading whisper. Your body ached for him before your heart did, after all. Old habits were hard to break.

"You've been waiting for me, like a good girl, haven’t you?" he cooed. Cooed, quite literally. A low and rumbling song reverberated from somewhere deep in his throat. Not a bit of you was avian, but your body reacted instinctively when you heard your mate's call.

"I should reward you."

His visor glinted in the dim light as he pulled it off his face and let it land on the floor. His earmuffs, too.

You bit down your grin as the weight of your mattress shifted under his knee. His ungloved hand neglected the bulge in his jeans to tend to you instead. Warm fingertips slipped beneath your covers and found the skin of your thigh. A small sigh spilled from his lips, and your body trembled.

"You missed my hands on you, didn't you?"

You only managed a nod as his fingers slid up and beneath your pajama top.

Your body sank deeper into your covers when he moved over you. One knee landed on either side of your hips. His bare hand played with your breast while the still gloved one ran through your hair. The leather of the glove was frigid from the cold, but his body radiated warmth. The sweetness of his cologne mingled with the harsh musk of sweat. The smell of him fogged your mind.

The pads of his fingers pinched and tugged at the pink bud he discovered on your chest, which earned him a harsh gasp.

"That's it. I love it when you sing like that," he chimed. His hot breath ghosted over the shell of your ear. Wefts of his hair brushed against your face as his teeth nibbled at your throat. You were trapped beneath the cage his body made.

"These cute little tits of yours- god."

He wasn't usually so chatty when he was about to mount you, but every grumble that reverberated in his throat added to the tingle between your thighs. He could devour you whole and you would thank him for the honor.

Your hands slid up the sides of his tight bodysuit. The inky black fabric was harsh beneath your fingertips. You traced the patterns of its gold accents around to his back and up towards his wings. He stiffened when he felt you slide nearer to them. Between the plush feathers at the base of a wing, you wiggled a finger until you found the skin beneath. Then you gave the joint a brutal squeeze.

Instinctively, that glorious wing of his outstretched and shivered. The stems of his plumes flexed against your hand as they puffed twice their usual size. The longest of them brushed against the ceiling of your room, dwarfing your bodies beneath it.

You were always in awe of the sheer size and beauty of them.

"F-fuck. Not fair," he growled, and then his teeth sunk hard into your neck in vengeance. The harsh bite only made you desperate for more, so you fisted his feathers in your hand and gave a sharp yank. He gasped a hot breath into the nape of your neck. Fuck. You couldn't take the teasing anymore.

Your hands relieved him of their cruelty to pull off your shirt. He faltered when your bare breasts were exposed. His golden irises became thin rings as the darkness of his pupils devoured them. The tip of his glistening tongue wetted his lips.

It was your turn to stare with sharp desire as you heard the click of his belt, then the pull of a zipper. You pushed yourself up to get a good view of him working his dick out of his bodysuit. The throbbing muscle hit him in the stomach. The sensation made him hiss between his teeth, and you whimpered in reply.

"Hhm, you must be really hungry, the way you're staring at it," he mused before he spat into his palm and ran the wetness along the shaft. He quivered at the sensation. You quivered, too.

"Please." Your cheeks were flushed, and your chest quaked with desire. "I want to feel it, please."

"Oh, don't worry. You’re gonna have all of this. Gotta get that pretty little pussy ready for my cock, though, don't we?" he hummed.

He reached into his plumage and pulled out a long, red feather. The thing wriggled between his pinched fingers as he presented it to you. The way it moved was unnatural, but you timidly took it in your grasp. The look on your face must have been telling of your confusion because he chuckled at your expression. He gave no direction. Instead, he watched with a mischievous curiosity as you turned it in your palm. The barbs vibrated independently of one another against your skin.

Your breath heaved when you realized why he had given it to you. His hands slid down your stomach as a pair of red feathers brushed against your sides. They dipped into the hem of your shorts, then pulled the fabric, sliding them down your legs until you were deprived of them. The cold from the open window seeped into your most sensitive places as his hands caressed your hips.

His fingertips stopped over a series of divots and deformities in your flesh. They were painful mementos of the night you met, and reminders of the sacrifice you had made for him a couple of years prior. He was a stranger when you chose to forgo your own survival to shield him from death. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he relived the agony with you, but placed kisses all over the scars. It felt like a plea for forgiveness, so you ran a loving hand through his hair.

A soft sound spilled from him, and then his head dipped down to drink in the sight of your bare body. You were naked beneath your shorts, so he hummed through gritted teeth when he teased your legs apart. He'd seen it all many, many times before, but the sight of your glistening pink sex brought about his cooing again. The sound was a deep and beautiful melody unlike anything you'd ever heard, but also purely sexual. It was his body's call to yours. It beckoned you like a siren.

“No panties, huh?” he murmured. His breath hitched and vibrated with his lustful song. “You’re already so wet, my god… how about you put that feather of mine to use?”

He sat back on his haunches. Those narrow eyes bore holes into your exposed body as he spat another thick glob of saliva onto his palm. His hand found his cock. His eyelids fluttered at the contact and he groaned softly as he pumped around it. His eyes drank your every movement.

You spread your legs for his gaze and then brought the pulsing feather between your thighs. He could feel through them, in a sense. The thought alone caused you to exhale a soft moan, but it was anything but soft when the vibration teased your sex. He groaned, too, at the contact.

Your body flexed and wiggled when you pressed it hard against your clit. The sensation made your eyes roll back. Your slickness dampened its vanes despite its semi-hard state, and your hips ground into the pleasure. He observed. His hand pumped faster with each desperate whimper his feather worked out of you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't take simply watching anymore.

The roughness of his stubble dragged along your breast as he closed his teeth around one of your pink buds. He suckled, and your fingers tangled in his hair as his feather jolted from your grasp. It worked your clit without your help, and hot air blew from his nose as he jerked himself off. You used the distraction to sneak a hand between your bodies. You wanted the hot skin of his cock against you. You wanted to touch and play; to taste and feel. A thick whimper spilled out of him when you ensnared his throbbing dick in your palm and squeezed.

His feather stopped pleasing you.

"I didn’t give you permission to touch, did I?" His wings flexed. The feathered limbs grew massive as their quills stood on end in a frightening display. They were beautiful and plush, but deadly weapons all the same. “Testing me, huh? You're that desperate for my cock?”

Yes, fuck yes you were. You opened your mouth to reply, but your voice cut out when he grabbed you by the wrist. He jerked your hand away from his sex, and you whined. Usually, you were a bit of a hardass. It wasn’t easy to make you crumble, so he looked so devilishly proud of himself when you’d submit beneath the weight of him.

His teeth bared in a deliciously appealing smirk. "I’m gonna have to do something with these hands of yours if you’re gonna grab at shit without permission, yeah?"

You nodded a little too eagerly. His voice was heavy and deep with a depraved need to dominate you. To sully your skin with his desire. You weren’t going to stop him.

A cluster of feathers gathered in the air around you. You had nothing to fear, but watching them circle like small predators overhead made your heart pound against your ribs like a drum. They swarmed you and ensnared your wrists. The strength of his quirk easily had you overpowered. Your hands slammed into the headboard, pinned down by his feathers which trembled with excitement. You were now at his mercy.

“You’ll get your hands back when you’ve earned them,” he informed you through gritted teeth, but you were so mesmerized by the features of his face you hardly heard his words. Beautiful, that's what he was. You'd never told him how his appearance left you breathless. It could scare him away if you said such sweet things too often, but you’d held your heart back for so long it only felt fair to let it beat this once.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered.

He trembled. His eyes widened in startled confusion, and then his cheeks dusted the faintest shade of red. God, that only made your heart thump harder. His did, too; you could feel it rattle through his chest and against your stomach.

"What was that?"

You bit your lip, embarrassed, but echoed the statement a bit more sheepishly. "I said… you're gorgeous."

Your mattress groaned as he folded back onto his knees. The flaming red limbs on his back lowered until they rested against your sheets. Something about that sweet little compliment tore into him like nothing you had ever said before. That desire that flickered behind his eyes blazed out of control. His kisses landed on your knees before he placed a gentle caress of his lips on the innermost part of your thigh. So close to your pussy that the heat of his breath made you slick.

His other glove was abandoned somewhere on the floor, which rendered both his hands bare. A low groan spilled from him as he pressed his thumbs into either side of your heat. His jaw went slack and his breath erratic as he spread you open.

"So are you," he said, but it was muttered so softly you almost didn't hear.

His head dipped down. The tendrils that framed his forehead fell over your midriff as his tongue caressed your twitching flesh. The hot, wet muscle lapped hungrily between your folds. It flicked at your clit, and your legs trembled on either side of his head. His mouth working you open like that was enough to fog your mind entirely.

“You like that?” he cooed between the slurps of his mouth against you. "Oh, I bet you fucking do."

You replied with only a strangled whimper as you tugged uselessly at the feathers that bound you. You were desperate to comb your fingers through his downy hair, to fist it in your hands and press his face hard into you. A low chuckle flowed from his open mouth and tickled your flinching flesh. Another cry tore from your throat.

“My poor baby, so desperate,” he sighed after placing a kiss against your clit.

His poor baby. He hummed that phrase with such possessive intensity. He was right. Even if it was unspoken, you and your body belonged to him and him alone.

The warmth of his palms traveled back up your stomach and squeezed your breasts roughly. “Forcing you to wait so long for me, did I neglect my sweet little Chickpea? Hmm, I better make up for it, huh?"

God, the way his husky voice reverberated against your flesh was the most delicious form of torture. You bit your lip and nodded, and he rewarded you with a finger. It slid carefully into you, and his hand caressed your insides. You cried a loud, indecipherable string of mangled words. All grasp on language left you as he curled his fingers up and flicked his wrist.

“Aw, what are you trying to say, Sweetheart?” he huffed. All the little nicknames only pushed you further into your need for him. “You wanna feel my fat cock push into that pretty little pussy?”

A sharp inhale burned your throat.

“P-please!” you choked. Your voice was cracked and pitiful when it finally tore from you, and a wonderfully wonton sound fell from him.

“Please what, huh? Please what?” he gasped.

“Fuck me! I want it- I want your cock- PLEASE.”

“Ohhhhh, that sounds so pretty comin’ outta your mouth,” came his long, low growl. As a reward for your begging, he dragged the wetness of his tongue along the length of your little pink slit.

The rough material of his jeans slid down your inner thighs as he mounted you. The shaft of his hot, bare cock pressed flush against your sex. Clusters of his feathers bunched behind the bends in your knees and forced them back, which splayed you helplessly open. You watched as he bit into his lip and rubbed himself against your wetness. You couldn't look away as the most intimate part of his body sheathed itself in yours.

The most delicious pressure overwhelmed your aching senses. Fuck. FUCK. He moved slowly. It may have been meant as mercy, but to your sex-starved body, it felt torturous. The ridges of his dick caught at your swollen walls before the tip of it pressed agonizingly slow into the bottom of you.

“Hawks! Oh my god, I can’t fucking take this!” your throat jerked and trembled just like your aching thighs. Your hips pumped in desperation for friction where your bodies connected. “Give it to me, give it- I swear to god- FUCK!”

Once you gave him control of your body, he lost control of his own. The mattress groaned when he slammed into you. His teeth dug into your throat, laying his claim on you as he panted for breath. His loose belt buckle beat at your outer thighs, and your bed frame groaned in protest with each merciless thrust. His hands dug into your flesh and locked you into his jarring pumps. He pinned you down as if he expected you to play the fighting game, but you didn't resist his cock this time. You didn't want a battle. You wanted your lover. Your moaning whimpers broke and cracked as his jerking hips rocked the wind from you.

He pounded into you too fast for your mind to keep up. Your scarred body buckled and stung under his animalistic need, but the shockwaves of pleasure that rolled through your core kept you begging him for more. More. More.

His mind was so fogged that he lost his focus on his feathers. The clusters binding you down came loose without his influence, and you easily pulled out of them to throw your arms around his neck. His wings spread out and bristled until they were pressed against the walls, puffed and massive. His forehead was against yours. His hot breath puffed in your face, and his beautiful body was pleasured with yours.

"Fuck, fuck! Please- Let me come inside you," he pleaded. His eyes were hazy and fogged, his mouth was slack and face a deep red. His body’s cooing song was so loud you could feel it in your own chest. The familiar smell of his cologne intermingled with the musk of sex and blurred your mind. You wanted every piece of him he'd give you.

"Y-yes, please, please," you begged between the hard smacks of his skin against yours.

Your eyes shot open as his pace quickened. His wings… they were falling apart. Those beautiful eyes of his lulled further into the back of his head with each bone shivering slap of flesh. His teeth bared and his lips twitched as he pressed your bodies roughly together. Shivers rolled through his muscles, and those fierce wings of his were reduced to twitching little nubs on his back as he came.

You ran your hands between his shoulder blades as you marveled at his feathers. They littered the air as they weaved feverishly around one another. The gentle touch of your hands brought Hawks down from his high, and his feathers slowed until they lazily spun like autumn leaves. You pulled him down into a tight embrace and buried your face into his hair. He heaved into your chest, and you watched all the little pieces of him flutter around your room in the light of the moon.

He often lost control of his wings when you made love. They'd fluff up and flap wildly when he came, which often knocked shelves from your walls and your lamp from your bedside table. That was the first time he shed his feathers, and you were in awe.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was gravely and shuttered between labored breaths.

“Yeah, I’m just... admiring," you said as you stared over his shoulder. He glanced behind him, and his cheeks tinted the faintest shade of pink when he realized the pitiful state of his wings. The little red feathers spread all around your room stilled in the air and swarmed to his back, returning his iconic limbs to their full glory.

“Er, you managed to pluck me. How embarrassing,” he quipped. You were so sore and exhausted from his sex all you could manage was a little laugh. You were a gasping mess, though, when he finally pulled out of you. The loss of pressure was a relief, but it also left you feeling empty. You laid quiet and trembling as he leaned back to marvel over the mess he made of you. His thumbs spread you open again, and he let out a breathless moan as you felt his come leak from you. His head dipped between your thighs. That beautiful tongue of his flicked out and lapped at the mess on your pussy. The warm wriggling of the muscle shocked your swollen clit and made you cry out, but you couldn't bear to ask him to stop. It satisfied something in you to watch as he licked you clean of your slick and his own come.

When he was content that he'd cleaned you thoroughly, he laid his body carefully beside you in your bed. His fingers tangled in your hair as he locked you into a kiss. You could taste the sex he licked from you on his tongue.

The sex was always feverish and ravishing, but the afterglow was your addiction. In the beginning, it was rare. To kiss and caress crossed the line into his discomfort, but the more he learned to trust you the more of his affection you earned. The man who feared human touch began to ask for hugs every visit. Kisses became frequent and pleasant the more he let you do it. Then came sex that felt less like vicious wars and more like making love. Yes, after everything you did to earn his intimacy, nothing felt as lovely as lying naked beneath his plush plumage.

His feathers caressed every inch of your aching body. His warm mouth, still wet from the sex, pressed gentle kisses onto your face. Your head rested against his arm as your breath slowly steadied. His wing flexed and rested on your shoulder as if tucking you in beneath a plush comforter.

“Mm. You like that?” he pondered breathlessly. His fingers trailed up your scarred side until they combed through your hair. There was a ginger softness to the touch that made your heart quiver. He smiled at you, those yellow eyes pierced through the dim light and into your soul. as you reached your hand out to run your fingers under his jaw.

“Do you need to ask?” you hummed. Your cheeks were still red and your chest quaked as you slowly came down from the high.

He laughed. What a lovely, airy sound. You hummed in the glory of the moment. And, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you could breathe again. Typically, he’d spend his days off kicked back on your living room couch with a tall bottle of something hard in his hand. You’d go a week or so without seeing him when things got tense in the hero world, of course, but in the last two months, you’d had him for only a handful of nights. It was concerning, but you knew better than to ask. No matter how close the two of you had become he would never talk to you about work.

“It's been a while since you last flew in,” you noted as you got comfortable beneath his plumage. His body beside yours was the definition of comfort. Your mind could only be at peace when he was safe in your bed. “It’s nice to see you again, I was worried.”

“I know, it’s been too long. No need to worry, though, Chickpea, I’m right here,” he replied. His slow exhale tangled in your hair, and his hand's gentle touch found your cheek. He offered no explanation for his lengthy absences, but he and his crimson wing caressed you with apologies.

You relaxed to the sound of his steady breath through the dim blue light of your bedroom. The wing he draped over you was so plush and warm you could easily fall asleep. You might have, if not for the fear of waking up without him. You scooted closer to wind your arms around his chest and bury your face in his neck.

"I really wish you could stay," you whispered.

To let your love get in his way was the last thing you wanted, but it was the utterance of a moment of weakness. It was uncharacteristic of you, the pathetic way it sounded, and you felt him stiffen under your arm as he soaked in your request. While there was never a confession of love, you'd tamed the wild bird with years of patience and earnest affection. He was loyal to you. It was cruel of you to ask for something you knew he couldn't give.

“Ah… I would if I could help it, you know that,” he sighed into your forehead, “but I can try to stay until morning.”

“Please. I’d like that.” It came out like the voice of a frightened child, but it was difficult to hide your need for him anymore.

If you dwelled any further on the possibility of him vanishing, your emotions were going to get the better of you. You played with the feathers draped over your shoulder to calm yourself. A small one by your face was pinched between your fingers as you rolled the barbs around.

"Your wings are filthy," you mused. Dirt particles littered the poor things. You were sure, with some rooting, you'd find a few bugs he’d picked up in the air, too. "Actually, all of you is filthy. You got dirt all in my sheets, bird brain."

"Oh. Shit, my bad," he murmured as he sat upright. You shivered when the warmth of his wing left you.

"Hm, it's fine. Throw your clothes in the wash and I'll get a shower ready for you, sound good?"

“Sounds good.”

The bed creaked in relief when he stood. His frame was slender and small, but his wings at least doubled the weight of him. That was evident with how smothering being beneath him could feel. He kicked off his pants, though his body was still covered by the black and gold bodysuit he wore beneath them. It warmed your heart to see him carry his uniform out of your room and hear him tinker with the washer on the other side of the wall. The sound of the cloth being tossed inside followed by the creak of an opening cabinet seeped through the drywall, followed by the pop of the detergent lid coming off.

He was intimately familiar with your tiny abode. You’d made sure things stayed in the same place so he'd know where everything was the next time he'd visit. You'd been especially anal about it since he'd often be gone for such long periods at a time. When he returned, you wanted your home to feel like it belonged to him, too.

A sensation overcame you as you laid alone in your bed. The sheets were warm from the love you’d just made. Despite his tongue cleaning you off, you could still feel the faint warmth of him inside of you. His contented sigh found you through the wall and your heart burst.

To the rest of the world, he was a hero, but he was so much more to you. You'd give anything to have him completely. For his voice to echo, groggy and sheepish, against your walls every morning. To get to kiss him goodbye before the sun rose, and to welcome him home every afternoon with a warm embrace. For a ring on your finger; a crib in the bedroom. That wasn’t the kind of life that was meant for him, though. As long as he was afraid of you being hurt, those secret nights were all you’d ever have. It made sense. He had enemies, and you could only imagine how your quiet life would turn upside down if you ended up in the pages of a tabloid.

You only spent time together in the privacy of your apartment. Even after two years of being close to him, there was so little you knew about his life separate from you. What little you did know only made you frustrated on his behalf. You held out hope that it could eventually change, for your sake and his.

Preening Hawks was your favorite thing to do with him. There was something special about being across from one another in the shower, naked, warm water rushing over your bodies as your fingers smoothed and placed his dampened feathers. It took the first year of your friendship for him to allow you to touch them at all, so it was an obvious display of his trust in you. Which was understandable. His wings were an integral part of his identity. You watched as he ran his hands over his face and into his hair. His expression was in a relaxed state of bliss as your fingers picked through his plumage.

With his massive wings on either side of you like plush, padded walls, it felt like nothing in the world could get you. His laughter echoed around the small room as he told jokes and stories. It was okay if you didn't have anything to say, or if you just wanted to listen. He would talk for you when you fell short, and that's usually what got you laughing.

Through the gentle moment, though, you couldn't help but let your emotions get the better of you. During times like those, when his visits were few and far between, your mind danced around the question of why. The possibilities bounced between him either being in danger or losing interest in you. Both were scary thoughts since he had become such an integral part of your life.

"Would you mind if I ask something?" you pondered, which accidentally interrupted a story he'd been telling about an intern of his.

"Depends what it is.”

"Well… there are a million girls out there who'd gladly do this with you," you mused, and it was true, even if it stung a little to remember. "Did you decide to do this with me because it was convenient?"

That had been your reason, initially. Hawks spent a lot of time hanging around your apartment and he just happened to be wildly attractive. There were no feelings when he’d first asked if he could fuck you. That didn't come until later.

He laughed, and you glared at him.

“Self-doubt, huh? That isn’t like you. Me being away a lot’s really shaken you up, huh?”

"It's not self-doubt, I'm just genuinely curious," you quipped as you pulled a feather from his wing. They'd moult if they hung around too long, so pulling out the loose ones was a help to him.

"Well… what we have going on is far from convenient," he said. "If that's what I was going for, I'd go after a pro that could keep a secret. It ain't easy to sneak away like this, you know."

So even a pro hero would have to be a secret for him? Did Hawks have any chance at all for a normal life?

“I wanted you, and if I want something, I go for it.”

You swallowed down a breath you’d been holding, but you didn’t say anything else as you watched his eyes dance around the bathroom in thought.

"And I wanted you because… well, there were a lot of reasons. The night we met was a big one, I guess.”

You looked away. That night felt taboo to mention, considering all the guilt you knew he harbored. Your scars weren’t his fault. Several villains were on a rampage, and your hospital was in the destructive path. You were just another civilian, caught in the crossfire. His feathers tried, but they couldn’t get you out of the building. You’d been partially crushed beneath the rubble.

“I was sure it was the end of the road for me. It would have been if you and your quirk hadn’t been trapped inside with me. You have a forcefield. You could have used it to protect yourself, but you bubbled me instead. You were gonna die. I was so sure you were gonna die and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.”

Still, your lips wouldn’t move. You’d spent ten months in an ICU after you were crushed beneath the weight of two stories of concrete. If not for the healing quirks of EMTs, you wouldn’t have survived at all. If not for your sacrifice, Hawks wouldn’t have, either. Still, it wasn’t his fault.

“Still hurts to know I couldn’t help you when you needed me most, but when I looked in your eyes, there wasn't a hint of fear. All I saw was determination. I never met someone who was so sure of their choices, even in the face of death," he recalled. Your emotions skirted between sadness and flattery as you heard his thoughts. If only you could live up to that selfless picture of you, now. “I know a lot of pros who could only hope to have that kind of resolve.”

“Damn, when you tell it you make me sound like a badass,” you quipped, and your laughter bounced around the shower stall.

“I mean, what are the requirements to be donned with the title of badass? I’m sure you’re overqualified. Either that or you’re fucking crazy, which is also a possibility.”

You snorted.

“I'm not crazy. My job is to help people after they've been hurt. If I bubbled you instead, I’d be saving every person you’d live to protect. Before they would need a nurse like me. It’s just what made sense.”

He was silent for a moment as he absorbed your reasoning. You tended to be rational, even in the most emotional of situations. But that borderline-robotic way of thinking was a by-product of your own miseries.

You were a nurse in a world overcome by demigods and treachery. Some of the things you'd seen in the OR would haunt you for the rest of your life. And, sometimes, those ghosts came to torment you in your dreams. That made it hard the first time Hawks slept in your bed. You would sometimes wake with tears in your eyes as your voice quivered out sobs. Your past lovers didn't understand that part of you. The broken part. The part that had been poisoned by the darker side of this superpowered world.

That's what fostered your love for Hawks. When he had awoken early that morning to you crying beside him, he’d only reacted with a patient embrace. He adored the bright parts of you, but he also had a solemn understanding and respect for your darkness. Having that connection through your mutual suffering was a kind of bond you’d never had before him. And now that you had it, you couldn't imagine life without.

You went back to preening. You pressed up on your knees to reach a bit higher on his wing, and he watched intently. His voice died into silence as his gaze swept over your naked form, which dripped from the steam of the shower. It wasn't a surprise. Often, he would get lost in himself as he observed you, like a curious bird. It felt like a wordless compliment, so you silently allowed his eyes to explore you. Not that his hands and mouth and cock hadn't already drawn a map of you in his mind.

"Whatcha thinking about?" you teased playfully, and he hummed in response.

"How you look at my wings… I like it."

"Everybody looks at your wings," you said dismissively. A half-smile graced your face.

"You’re right. They do. People admire me because of what they’re capable of. It's what people think of first when they think of me, and rightfully so. They're hard to ignore. But when you look at me, you look at my face first, my wings second. It's like you admire them because they're a part of me, not because of what they can do. I appreciate that."

Your fingers in said feathers slowed to a stop as he spoke. You smiled a little to yourself as you brushed them against a feather. He shivered. "Your quirk is a part of who you are. That's why I like cleaning them for you. It feels like I get to give you something special, but wings or not, I'd still want you."

Falling in love with Hawks was the best and worst thing you’d ever experienced. The pleasure of those beautiful moments seeped into your soul like a warm cup of tea. But the anguish that followed after he flew out your window… there wasn't a simile that could correctly describe the immeasurable pain.

Your response must have triggered a long series of difficult thoughts for the bird. His head tilted slightly, his eyes hardened in expression and his brows furrowed as he soaked in your confession.

"In the year we've been doing this… has there ever been another man?" he pondered. The question jarred you. Occasionally, he'd get a touch possessive of his time with you. He’d asked a time or two who you were texting. You knew him well enough to pick up the hint of jealousy despite his light tone, but he never asked anything so outright.

“Well, look who's got self-doubt now. You sure are eager for a lot of questions and confessions tonight. What’s gotten into you?” you asked.

He shrugged. “You asked a question, so it's my turn now. Besides, we’ve been close for a couple of years. We've been intimate for half of that. just seems a little silly to keep up the fuck buddies act. Or is it just me?”

Fuck buddies act? You bit your lip. Hard. When he was with you he was so relaxed. This seriousness was unusual, and it made your wet skin rough with goosebumps.

"It's not just you," you confessed.

For a short while, the bathroom was filled with only the sound of the running shower as you collected your confession.

"There hasn't been another man since you. I mean… I've gone on dates a few times, but it never got that far," you replied. The moment another man kissed you… Well, kisses felt dirty if they were with anyone other than Hawks. "I know this thing you and I have going on was meant to be a no strings attached kind of affair, but… Well, if I’m being honest with you, it feels wrong trying to sleep with anyone but you. I like what we have, and I've always got the impression that you really do, too."

He didn't say anything. You weren't sure whether or not that was what he wanted to hear.

"Have you?" you asked. "Been with anyone else?"

You’d never asked before. At first, it was because it didn't feel like your business. Then, when the thought eventually made your heart ache, you didn't ask because you didn't want to know. But now that you had come clean, it only felt fair that he did, too.

Air left his nose and his head bobbed back until his wet hair pressed against the shower stall.

"Once,” he confessed, and he sounded ashamed now that he knew you never did. “I used to have this on again, off again thing, before I knew you. I messed with her a few weeks after you and I first… well, you know. But only once, then never again.”

You’d thought it would crush you to learn he’d been with someone else, but it didn’t sting like you thought it would. Probably because you didn't know specifics. If you knew what woman had her hands on him, if you could see it, it probably would destroy you. But the apologetic way he said it put your heart at ease. He mumbled like he knew it would hurt you, and he didn’t want it to. But you weren’t wounded, and your feelings weren’t perturbed. He never promised you anything, just as you’d never made promises to him.

“Why’d you stop seeing her?” you asked as you scooted closer to smooth shampoo suds down in his hair. He only shrugged at first, then sighed in contemplation when your fingers combed along his scalp.

“I’ve never had a place I could go to, you know?” he said. “I’ve never had somewhere like this, where I can lay my head for a little while and just be…”

“Pampered?” you suggested as your hands moved to massage his shoulder blades between his wings.

He breathed out a little laugh, but shook his head. “Yeah, but that’s not what I was thinkin’.”

“Out with it then,” you teased.

“Well… I’ve never had somewhere I’ve felt safe and... cared about?” he said, though his eyes were distant and lost when he said it, as if he wasn’t sure he should have.

“I gotta always be looking over my shoulder. Gotta always have a mask on and hope no one ever sees through it. But here, everything’s relaxed. You couldn’t care less what my ranking on some chart is or how much money is in my pocket. You don't give a shit about heroing or the tabloids. You’re the only person in my life who asks for nothing other than my company. I feel human here. I didn’t want to jeopardize that, or what I had with you. That’s why I stopped seeing her.”

Your mouth went dry. While your nights were long and passionate, you’d never whispered sweet nothings. You’d never told him how much he and his company meant to you because you felt he wouldn’t want to hear it, but he kept coming back. For a year he had clung wordlessly to what little affection you gave him. If he’d told you this a year prior, you would have given him so much more love.

“So you do have deeper feelings for me. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He was silent, as you’d expected him to be. He both craved and feared the closeness he’d formed with you. At times he’d drown you in sweet little bits of affection, but, when things got too deep, he would shut down. Through the last couple of years, you’d broken through a lot of his walls, but the cold influence of the commission would always be with him. Even if he was in love with you, he’d never understand how to tell you.

"Because of who I am when I fly out your window,” he began. The reverb of his voice against the shower stall took you off guard. You didn’t expect him to answer. "There are things I know you want from me… things that I can’t give you right now, and you deserve more than that. That’s why I never planned on telling you… Fuck. It was never supposed to be like this…”

He spoke more to himself than he did to you at that moment. There was an internal battle going on in his mind; one you'd never really be able to understand, but you wanted to try.

"You mean you never meant to get attached?"

His silence was telling.

"It's okay," you said. "We don't have to talk about anything you don't want to." You took a hold of his hand, but he flinched away from you. He was regressing back into old habits. It had been months since he’d last recoiled to your affection. Something was terribly wrong. The recoil was fine. It was okay. Whatever he needed to feel comfortable. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry," he interrupted. He rubbed the wrist you had touched as if you'd burned him. His brow was knit and his mouth became a harsh line. "Sometimes it feels easy and other times it doesn't, but I'm trying."

"I know you are. Like I said, we don't have to talk about feelings."

He stared at you, and the longer his gaze rested on your face, the softer it became, "I want to try."

You nodded and wrapped your arms around your naked knees. The shower had been turned off long ago by a cluster of his feathers, but the soothing steam still lingered around you.

“It's just… this is difficult. One day someone may shoot me out of the sky. The thought of you still being right here, waiting for me, when I can never come back… It... kills me." He paused, his eyes hazed over as he swallowed his emotion down. The rawness in his voice struck such an unpleasant chord that your own eyes pricked with bitter water. "That's why I didn’t want attachments like this. But I didn't mean for all this between you and me. You snuck into me slowly, I didn't even notice until it was too late."

"Is this supposed to be flattering? It sounds like you're likening me to a parasite or something- heartworm," you quipped in an effort to dispel the heavy tension. He smiled, but only for a moment before he rolled his eyes at you.

"Just… listen to me," he said, and your eyes trained on his as your mouth closed. "If that ever happens… If there comes a day you've been waiting for me, only to find out I'm never coming back, please know that I cared for you."

He didn't use the word love, but that's very much what he was trying to convey. In a way, you’d kind of always knew. It was why he’d said it, how he’d said it, that made your eyes prick with tears at their corners. The thought of what he was implying petrified you. Hawks was so skilled, so powerful, so almighty. Despite all his power, though, he was human, just like you. The night you’d met proved how possible death was for him. Nothing could keep him safe forever, not even your forcefields.

But he’d never talked like this before. He was always so light-hearted and relaxed. His work and the dangers associated with it was off the menu of conversion topics. What had happened to bring all this darkness up now?

"You talk like you’re preparing for death."

Again, he didn’t reply. His silence was more terrifying than anything he could have said, but trying to pry him open would only break him, it seemed. So you didn’t.

“May I kiss you?” you asked instead.

He nodded.

You leaned forward and breathed into his ear. He shivered when you placed a gentle kiss on the shell of it. His earring pressed against your lip was a gentle and familiar feeling, but after you heard all he had to say it also felt fleeting. He always had some ulterior motive or hidden reason for every little thing he did. It's as if he said all this because tomorrow would be the day he was gone.

“I’m not preparing to die.” Your kiss gave him the courage to speak. "I have too much to live for. It’s just always a possibility- for anybody, really. But heroes especially. I just wanted it off my chest is all."

He smiled at you, but you’d seen every smile in his repertoire, and this one was faker than your stick-on-backsplash. The air never felt so tense between you. Not even the night you met, dying feet away from each other. It all felt so… heavy. The weight of it pressed hard into your chest.

“Er, this reminds me, while we're on topic, I got some things going on at the agency. I hate to say it, but you won't see me again for a little while. I don’t know how long. It could be a couple of months.” His disposition remained fake casual. His shoulders and face were relaxed as he enjoyed the steam of the shower, but his wings tensed. You felt it in your palms as you preened him.

"You're in trouble," you said. Your mouth went dry as the realization drained the color from your face.

"Trouble? Me? Nah. Just work stuff."

He spoke with a relaxed air about him, but he couldn’t lie to you.

"No. You've been acting off all night. You’ve been making all these confessions. Talking about death, telling me you're going away for a while. I know you better than you think I do; something big happened and you're trying to tie up loose ends in case you don't get out of it okay," you rambled, and the more you talked the higher your voice became. It trembled and wavered with building fear.

He stared at you. That silly face of his melted into a thin line and sharp, angular eyes. Those tricks worked when no one was close enough to see through them, but you knew his genuine smile like the back of your hand. You saw right through his facade, and he was annoyed by the very determination he just prided you for.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?"

You didn't whimper, but your eyes became glossy with emotion. It was a strange mixture of panic, sorrow, and rage. You had no idea what he'd gotten into, but you also knew he would never tell. He placed preserving missions above all else, which made sense but was frustrating.

"I don't know what's going on, but you need to get out of it if you're thinking it's something you may not come back from."

"Things aren't that simple. I chose this life, I gotta follow through."

"No, I chose to be a nurse when I was sixteen and understood the implications of what I'd have to go through. You were fucking six when the commission took you, and they spent all that time gaslighting and taking advantage of you-"

"We aren’t talking about that right now, don't use it against me.”

"Use it- what? I'm not using anything against you! You’re the one alluding to death! There’s nothing wrong at the agency, there’s something else- something terrible-"

"Drop it.”

“How can I?!”

"Because I said so." His eyes were narrow and mouth a tight, thin line. You could read him so well. He was regretting this. All of this, because now you were onto whatever suicide mission he was embarking on. But, as his lover, how could you just sit back and silently watch him throw himself into a danger that had even him shaken?

You got louder, and he got louder. You tossed bitter, confused words back and forth until he was screaming. Until you were screaming back at him. Your calm, laid back demeanor slipped through your fingers the moment you realized he could be in over his head. That, if you let him leave, this could be the last night you’d ever spend with him. Your anger was driven by your fear for his life, and his was driven by your inability to let it go.

He was still screaming. You were still screaming. You were fighting him. He just told you you were the most important person in his life, and you were spitting venom.

You stopped.

He stopped.

Your hand came to your bare chest as it heaved in an attempt to steady your breath. The other came up to wipe the tears budding in your eyes. He looked away from you, his brow tugged heavily downward, his jaw clenched together in shame.

"Let’s just breathe, okay?" you pleaded.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," you whimpered into your hand. "Out of everyone in the world, you're the last who needs to say sorry, so don't. It's just- it's not right, okay? You're too… I don't know, selfless? I watch all the time as that gets taken advantage of. Doesn’t it get tiring? Even your name is some dirty secret. I've been sleeping with you for a year and I don't even know what it is-"

"Yes, you do," he argued, his lip wavered with weakness for one vulnerable moment. "You know me- you know my name."

Desperation laced between his words and strung the sentence together. It wasn't easy to see your lover look at you that way, just begging for you to let pieces of him go. It was hard to accept it, but whatever name he went by prior to heroism didn't exist anymore. Neither did the once innocent child it belonged to. You tried to respect that, but it was unfair he was denied a basic human right: to have a name.

"You're Hawks, I know, I'm sorry… it's just… how much is left of yourself that actually belongs to you? How long until there’s nothing left to give? People have taken so much from you that you’ve become numb to it; do you even know what you're missing out on? Do you even know how lonely you are? When’s the last time anybody even asked if you were okay?"

He realized, then, that you weren't angry at him.

You were angry for him.

His eyes shifted to yours, and he nibbled at his bottom lip before he muttered with the quirk of his mouth: “Well, you ask me that pretty much every time you see me.”

There it was. The crack in your voice. The crinkle of your nose and the tremble of your lip. You cried, and he sat there across from you, still bare as his wings lowered to either side of you. His expression didn't change, and, for once, you couldn't read it. You didn't want to be so upset, but knowing he was in some kind of dangerous trouble that shook even him was too much for you to bear.

"I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. It’s just… Do you have any idea how many heroes I've wheeled into the morgue? People die on my table all of the time. Every time is just as hard as the last, but the heroes- those are the ones that destroy me. Because every time someone in a cape lands on the table I know their families are waiting for them at home, just like I wait here for you.

"I saved you once, but you're so far away from me, too far for my forcefields to reach you. Hearing you say you’re going away- all I can think of is coming into work one day and finding you c-... covered in a sheet."

His wings moved up from the shower floor. The feathers were dark with dampness as their joints pressed into your back. You sat there like that as he let you cry. Really, what else could he have done? What else could you have done? Of course you were angry. You would be for the rest of your life over how his panned out. His childhood was taken from him, his understanding of human affection was still stunted, even after all the time you spent gently undoing what damage had been done. Now he talked like one wrong move would end it all.

"It's… difficult," he began, though he couldn't make eye contact with you. He usually couldn't when you had discussions like this. "Being a hero isn’t what I imagined I would be when I was a kid. And sometimes I do ask myself: 'what is this all for? There's always going to be a new bad guy. Why does it matter?' And then I think about you…"

He went silent for a moment; you could see the little battle behind his eyes. The battle between his affection deprived confusion and his need to be closer to you. To explain himself.

"I think about you and it reminds me there are good people who are worth fighting for. As long as you are here and there are bad people out there that could hurt you, I have to be out there, too. And, yeah, sometimes I get afraid. But as long as I have these wings, I'm going to use them to keep this world safe for you."

He’d never felt so close to you, and yet so far away. He thought even more of you than you anticipated. A part of you felt touched you'd become a cornerstone for his sanity in such a hostile world, but the other part felt sick. If he wanted to fight for you, that was fine.

But to die for you; that would be unforgivable.

The urge to argue the worth of his life weighed heavy on your heart. If you did, he would call you hypocritical, considering your own history of self-sacrifice. It wasn’t the same, though. His self-worth depended on his usefulness to others and little else, and you feared the day that usefulness ran out. What would Hawks be, if not a hero? It should have such a simple answer, like what you would be if not a nurse. But it didn't. It never would.

You leaned forward to pull him into a tight hug. Perhaps when he was anywhere else you were unable to protect him, but right there, in your arms, you'd use whatever you could to keep him safe. Your bubbles, your kind words, anything.

"I understand," you said, because you knew there were no words that could keep him away from the hero path. It wasn't just a part of his identity; it was all he'd ever known. "Just… don't forget when the heroing is said and done, you'll always have a place here if you need it."

He hummed a small, contented coo at your kindness. Of course, you didn't have to tell him that. He already knew. Why else would he spend so much of his precious little free time cuddled up to you?

"I'll remember," he promised as his arms and damp wings curled in to squeeze you against him.

You and Hawks bathed in the comforting darkness of your bedroom. Your window was frosted from the bitter cold outside, but his body heat kept you warm in the safety of your bed. Or nest, rather, as Hawks tended to construct mounds of tangled comforters and wadded up bedsheets to hide in as he got comfortable. You were buried beneath the mass of cloth and the cocoon of his wings as you tried to fall asleep. It was a difficult undertaking since you didn’t know when you’d see him again. You were so tired, but you wanted to be awake to hold him for what little time you had left.

You wouldn’t have gotten any sleep, anyway.

Often when Hawks slept in your bed you'd awaken at strange hours. Sometimes this was due to your own nightmares. The subject bounced between the traumatic things you’d seen at the hospital and the night you’d met. You'd wake to find that you’d encased your bed in your protective bubble during your sleep, and Hawks' wings squeezed you gently against his chest. Other nights, it was Hawks' anxiety that would keep you awake.

During the day, his guard was discreetly up. He carried carefree conversations as if unbothered, but those well-trained feathers of his were on constant guard. Really, he never had a moment to breathe. This was something you never would have understood the depths of if you weren't woken by his anxiety in the midst of the night. The anxiety he kept bottled during the day often let itself out in the form of night terrors. He'd mumble. Roll. His wings would twitch over you. His face would morph into an agonized expression, and he chirped in distress. A good, gentle shake was usually all it took to pull him out of the bad dream.

That night his nerves reared their head, though in an unorthodox way. Apparently, you did fall asleep, because you awoke with a small grumble when you felt the mattress groan, followed by a heavy weight draping over your body. You let out a long whine of displeasure, but the weight just got heavier. You turned your head and opened your eyes to find Hawks, but he wasn't gasping in his sleep. He laid over you, wings puffed but flat on either side of your bed as he stared at the bedroom door.

"Hawks? You're squishing me."

He didn't answer or turn to look at you. Those sharp eyes of his danced around in panic, his feathers raised as they sensed every small movement in your apartment. You dropped your head back onto your pillow with a sigh.

"What's the matter?" you pondered.

"Shh," he hummed. "I felt something…"

You laid and listened for a short while, but all you could hear was the lady in the apartment above you walking across her floor.

"It's my neighbor."

"What if it's not?"

Whether the display was the primal instruction from the bird in him to protect his mate or if it was a by-product of the harsh reality of the life he lived, you weren't sure. Either way, his calm and almost lazy facade cracked. When the world was quiet and his feathers could sense every mundane movement in your apartment, his anxiety that those small bumps in the night might be something that could hurt you overwhelmed him.

The little display was an annoyance to your sleep-deprived brain, but his first thought in the midst of his worry was to protect you. That spared him from your groggy wrath.

"Lay down, McNugget. There's no one there," you grumbled, but he didn't turn his head away from the door.

Feeling your hand on his face seemed to snap him back into the moment, even if just a little. He leaned into you and encased you in his wings. It felt like a protective gesture, but the warmth you found beneath them made you hum pleasantly. The fluffy white cloth of his hoodie rubbed your cheeks as he cuddled into you. Well, actually, it was your hoodie.

At one time it was just some old thing you'd snagged from a thrift store on a chilly day. It was much too large for you, though. When Hawks came into your life later on, you'd cut holes out of the back and hemmed it up. That way he'd have a little something to throw on when it got chilly at your place. He never said it out loud, but he loved the thing. He'd go looking for it if you didn't leave it laying out in the living room.

"I know you usually have a lot to be afraid of, but you don't have to worry about protecting me. I'm a badass, remember?" you whispered into the shell of his ear. His shoulders relaxed just a bit, and he puffed out a little chuckle.

"Yeah, I know. I just… I want you to be safe. That's all."

Your gaze softened, though he couldn't see it in the darkness. You didn't need Hawks to protect you. You didn't need a hero. You needed a best friend; a lover. Between the both of you, he was the one in most need of saving.

"Shh," you hummed gently. Your hair lifted from your pillow and danced slowly around your face as if gravity was lost to you. He scrunched his nose as your locks brushed his cheeks, and his wings settled flat as a ring rose from the floor around your bed. The translucent wall came together above your bodies to form a hard, bubble shell.

"You've been the hero long enough. Let me be the protector tonight,” you said. His throat bobbed against your shoulder as his arms wound around you. He settled, but you still felt his unease.

“What’s got your feathers ruffled?”

“You shouldn’t have to protect me,” he said. His voice was muffled since his mouth was pressed into your skin, but you still heard the sadness in it. “I should be taking care of you.”

You blinked as you soaked in his words. For a year you pined for such romantic things to come out of his mouth. Of course he’d wait for a night like that night to say such sickeningly sweet things. The future that used to feel so full of mystery and excitement had become dangerous, uncertain, and disappointing.

“You don’t have to be the hero every time,” you replied.

“But if I’m not a hero, what am I?”

His question was an echo of your fears. The ambient light from your window filtered dimly into your forcefield, but your eyes couldn’t adjust with tears in them.

“I don't know if I have the answer you're looking for, but... Do you remember when I was in the hospital?" you asked. "When you first came to see me you brought a twenty-piece box of chicken nuggets, and while I was trying to eat one you laughed until you were crying because it looked vaguely like a penis.”

“Vaguely? It had balls and everything,” he recalled, and you rolled your watering eyes.

“Whatever. It was stupid, but it was the first time I laughed since I was trapped in that hospital. And, well… when they said I’d never walk again you helped me out of bed. I cried myself to sleep some nights, but you were there, still trying to save me. You were trying to be a hero then, too, but you became my best friend. If nothing else, that's what you’ll always be to me.”

A sound came out of him akin to laughter. You shot him a look, then hooked your finger under his chin. You wanted to see his dumb grin when you berated him for poking fun at you. When his eyes met yours, though, they weren’t crinkled with laughter. They were red and watering.

“Oh, Hawks,” you breathed, and he tucked his face back into your arm to hide his vulnerability. He never cried before. At least not in front of you. He was always the immovable one, virtuous and strong. Moments like this reminded you just how human he was beneath it all.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you,” you assured him in a whisper. Gentle promises spilled from your lips like lullabies, and he clung to every word with heart-breaking desperation. You whispered every sweet nothing you could think of to ease his pain, but you didn’t have that kind of power.

You had no power at all.

His world always seemed scary to you. You feared for his life every day, but the thought of him being ripped from your arms overwhelmed you that night more than it ever had before. The protective bubble that encased your bed would keep him safe for as long as you could fight sleep, but what of the morning? You’d be safe at home, and he’d be lost somewhere in the dangerous fray of his duties. Far away from your warmth and the apartment he found so much comfort in.

This would not be the last time you held him. You had to believe that, but what if it was? What if this sleepless night was your last together?

Tell him you love him, you thought to yourself. Tell him before you never get the chance again.

You bit your lip as you felt his trembling breaths on your collar. You prepared your lips for the taste of the confession, but he was so vulnerable, more so than he may have ever been before. He didn’t need you to tell him about your affections, he needed you to use them.

You placed a reassuring crown of kisses along his forehead, and he gripped you so hard his knuckles were surely white.

When you’d cried as a child, your mother would lay in your bed and sing lullabies until you fell asleep. Your voice was untrained and awkward compared to hers, but you tried your best to use it. Your off-key tune echoed back to you in the dome of your forcefield, and your cheeks pinkened with how childlike it sounded. Your embarrassment interrupted your lullaby. He stirred against your chest.

“Don’t stop,” he said. “Please, sing to me.”

You cleared your throat as you gathered the courage to start again. His eyes fell closed as your song settled into the safety of your shield. His feathers relaxed, and his face went slack as sleep slowly overtook him. You sang until his tears stopped flowing. You sang until he was asleep in your arms. For as long as you could, you laid awake. If you succumbed to sleep, so would your forcefield. So would your promise to keep him protected through the night. As time moved slowly forward, sleep inevitably began to settle into you, too. It was as terrifying and as peaceful as death.

“I love you,” you whimpered as you felt your eyes grow too heavy to fight back open. “Please… stay safe.”

Credits:

A massive thank you to my wonderful friend and editor, @fuwafuwagem! If you thought the fic looked especially polished, it’s thanks to her efforts!

Also a big thank you to my buddies and beta readers: @dendriticheep and @narcolepticroses! Thanks you guys for being such sweet friends to me ;u;

And a huge thanks to YOU, for reading !

Authors Note:

I’d love to do a lot more fanfictions like these! If you have any suggestions or requests for animations or animated stories like this one feel free to submit it to me!

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

I’m Not Half as Bad as You’ve Been Told

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Synopsis: Loki is arrested by the TVA for what he did to you

This can be read on it’s own or as a spin off of in case you don’t live forever

Masterlist

Loki woke up in the Gobi Dessert in Mongolia after being ejected from the sky. The last thing he remembered was taking the tesseract after getting caught by the Avengers in New York. When he opened his eyes, he was met with four armed guards with their weapons pointed at them.

“Hunter B-15 with the Time Variance Authority here. Appears to be a standard sequence violation.” Hunter B-15 read off a small monitor. “Oh and look at that, you’re one of the TVA’s most wanted.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked as he got off the ground.

“Hands up.” Hunter B-15 raised her weapon. “You’re coming with us.”

Before Loki could protest, he was knocked out and had a collar placed around his neck. He was brought to the TVA headquarters and handed off to Agent Mobius after being screened.

“Loki Laufeyson. I’m agent Mobius.” Mobius introduced himself as Loki tugged at his collar. “I hear the Time Keepers find you guilty of tampering with the sacred timeline.”

“The what?” Loki huffed.

“The sacred timeline. Looks like you stole the tesseract and committed crimes against the midgardian Y/n L/n.” The Mobius read off Loki’s file.

“Y/n?” Loki stumbled back at the unexpected mention of your name. “This is about her?”

“That’s part of your charges, yes. You’ll be given more details at your trial. But I’d ike to have a talk with you first. Come this way.” Mobius nodded towards the side and lead Loki to a room with a projector on a long conference table.

“What does this have to do with Y/n? Where is she? Is she all right?” Loki asked as he took a seat behind the projector. He had worried about you since the day you left him, even after you told him you never wanted to see him again.

“She’s fine.” Mobius assured him. “Even after you got a hold of her.”

“Is she here?” Loki hoped. “Could I see her?”

“No.” Mobius answered, making Loki’s face crumple. “She’s on Earth. You know, her home.”

“I know Midgard is her home.” Loki narrowed his eyes. “I also know how much she hated it there. But this all happened ages ago. Why am I being arrested for it now?”

“Well when you took the tesseract from its set path, the TVA was alerted and noticed that this wasn’t your first offense of tampering with the sacred time line. They saw that Y/n L/n never made it back to earth in 2019 after going to Asgard to retrieve the Aether. It went undetected at the time since the Aether made it back to earth like it was supposed to. She was supposed to go back as well, but she never made it. You were the one that kept her there.”

“How is that a crime?” Loki asked. “She wanted to stay with me. She was happy! She was happy on Asgard.”

“Was she?” Mobius raised his eyebrows and turned on the screen. “Because I think she was taken from her family, friends and home. Maybe I’m mistaken, though. Let’s take a look.”

Mobius pressed a button on a remote, and a projection appeared in front of them. Mobius began to fast forward through the foundational moments in Loki’s life until he got to what he was looking for. Loki watched in shock as an image of you, Thor, and Rocket creeping around a pillar in his home appeared on the screen. He wanted to shut his eyes and look away, but it had been so long since he’d seen you. He didn’t have the strength to look away from you now.

“I’m sure you remember why she was there.” Mobius said as he watched the scene unfold. “All she wanted was the infinity stone. She was trying to save the world. She missed her boyfriend and wanted to undo all the damage that Thanos had done. You couldn’t let her do that, could you?”

“The stone still made it back to earth.” Loki protested. “She said herself that she wasn’t an important part of the plan. And her “boyfriend” was nothing but dust particles. She-“

“Shh.” Mobius waved his hand. “The shows about to begin.”

Loki painfully returned his attention to the screen right as your first introduction played out. It was your job to distract Loki while Thor and Rocket collected the Aether.

Asgard 2013

“Who goes there?” Loki cringed at the sound of his own voice. He watched Rocket and Thor hide behind a pillar while you went out into the open. You walked into a room and found Loki lying on a couch, tossing something in the air and catching it. Loki sat up when he saw you, immediately on high alert.

“Who are you?” He demanded. “How did you get in here?”

“I’m so sorry, but my friends and I are here for the festival and I just had to sneak away to find you.” You gushed, trying to it best to look innocent. Loki took long strides towards you as he took in your appearance, highly skeptical of your story.

“My brother isn’t here.” Loki informed you, his voice thick with annoyance. “So you should best be on your way.”

“I’m not here for your brother.” You said coyly. You held his gaze as you signaled for Thor and Rocket to move to the next room.

“You’re here for me?” He cleared his throat to mask the disbelief in his voice. You nodded sweetly as Thor and Rocket snuck past you.

“Of course. My friends are obsessed with your brother, but I’ve always loved you. Won’t you show me a magic trick?” You batted your eyes flirtatiously, making a slight smirk appear on Loki’s face. Meanwhile, the present day Loki was watching the interaction with a pained expression. He remembered how it felt that first time you said you loved him. That was all he needed to hear before falling in love with you just the same.

“A magic trick?” The Loki on screen asked, mischief swirling behind his eyes.

“Well you are the God of Mischief, aren’t you?” You tilted your head to the side and looked at him through your eyelashes. A full, open mouthed smirk dressed his face now. His hand went to yours and it held it up, keeping your wrist tightly between his fingers. Loki brushed the fingers on his other hand over your palm and a diamond appeared. You looked at the beautiful diamond, weightless in your hand, and let out an unexpected gasp.

“Oh, Loki. That’s amazing.” You gave him an over dramatic sigh, but he completely fell for it. “But I don’t care much for diamonds. I haven’t any use for them.”

Loki felt a twinge of competition brewing in his chest, like he had to win your approval. You faked a yawn and his eyes gleamed with determination.

“You don’t like that? Well how about this?” Loki challenged and waved his fingers over your palm again. This time, a flower appeared. It didn’t look like any earthly flower. It was ten times more beautiful and smelled better than anything you had ever smelled before. The flowers colors were green and black with accents of gold, just like Loki’s outfit. You stared at the flower in amazement before looking up shyly at him. If you weren’t mistaken, the God of Mischief had a blush on his cheeks as he watched your face carefully for approval. Loki then picked up the flower and tucked it behind your ear. He began to lean in slightly, but you were interrupted by Thor and Rocket knocking over a vase. You noticed they had the stone and were ready to go. Luckily, you saw them before Loki did.

“What was-“ Loki began to turn his head towards the sound but you quickly put a hand behind his head and pulled him into a kiss. You felt his eyes flutter shut as you opened yours, catching sight of Rocket and Thor pretending to gag out of the corner of your eye. With one hand, you motioned for them to move. They quickly scattered and you pulled away from the kiss. Loki was fully blushing now but doing his best to conceal it, though his best wasn’t good enough. He seemed completely bewildered, making you wonder if he’d ever kissed anyone before. You touched your fingertips to your lips and felt a pang of guilt. This was your first time kissing someone other than Peter Parker in 5 years, and it made you feel guilty with how much you enjoyed it. Loki appeared to be just as lost in his thoughts as you were as he struggled to catch his breath. He ran a hand over the long black hair that you had slightly messed up in the back.

“Thanks for the flower. And for everything else. Bye!” You tried to make a quick escape, but Loki caught your arm.

“Wait!” He pulled you back towards him and looked at you with wide eyes. “Will I see you again?”

“No.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t think you will.”

“You’re not from here, are you?” He asked. “I know a Midgardian when I see one.”

“Good catch.” You let out a short laugh. “No, I’m not from here. I’m not even from this reality. I just needed to borrow something from your present. I’m from Earth, and I really have to get back.”

You tried to leave again, but Loki followed after to you and caught you by the waist. You stumbled back into his arms and blinked in surprise.

“Won’t you stay?” He asked hopefully. “We only just met. Do you have to leave so soon?”

“I do.” You frowned. “I’m sorry. I really need to go home.”

“All right.” Loki reluctantly let go of you. “If you must.”

You looked at him for a moment and chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating what to do. You looked behind you and saw Thor and Rocket preparing to leave. You motioned for them to leave without you before looking back at Loki.

“Do you have a pen?” You asked him.

“A what?”

“To write with.” You chuckled and motioned as of you were writing something down. Loki waved his hand and made a quill appear out of thin air, along with a piece of paper.

“That’ll work.” You shrugged and took the quill. You wrote your name and address down on the paper and handed it to him.

“If you’re ever on earth.” You smiled shyly. “Come find me.”

“I will.” He nodded eagerly.

“I really have to go now.” You said as you looked over your shoulder to where Thor was hiding. You turned back to Loki and gave him one last kiss, surprising the both of you.

“You’ll see me again.” You said softly. “Maybe not in this timeline, but the next.”

“That’s enough.” Loki interrupted, making the screen pause. “I know what happens. And since you’ve been studying me all my life as you claim, so do you. We don’t need to watch anymore.”

“I get it, you’re impatient.” Mobius held up his hands. “We can fast forward. How about we go to the part where you used magic to break her suit? Your brother was able to get back to Earth just fine, but she was stuck on Asgard. All because of you.”

Mobius pointed a remote at the screen and fast forwarding through Loki sneaking you to his bed chambers. He stopped when he got to you and Loki sitting on his silk sheeted bed.

“I don’t know why it won’t work.” You sighed as you touched all the buttons on your suit. “I must’ve run out of Pym Particles or something. I need to fix it so I can get back to Earth.”

“Right, right. Earth.” Loki said with disinterest. “What did you need to borrow anyway?”

“The aether.” You told him as the decor in his room caught your attention. You began to look at all his golden trinkets and stolen objects with awe.

“An infinity stone?” He was taken aback. “But why?”

“In the future, Thanos wipes out half the universe.” You began. “I’m on a recovery mission with the rest of the Avengers to collect the Infinity Stones to undo what he did. We’re trying to bring all the people back.”

“Half the people in the universe gone?” He gasped. “That sounds awful.”

“It is.” You stilled for a moment. “Honestly, I’m miserable. Absolutely miserable. All my family vanished. My boyfriend is gone. Half the Avengers are gone. The sky isn’t even blue anymore. It’s horrible.”

“So you aren’t happy there?” Loki asked as he walked over to you, a little jealousy bubbling when you mentioned a boyfriend.

“I hate it.” You admitted. “Everywhere I turn, I’m reminded of what I lost. That’s why it’s so important that we bring everyone back.”

“But what if your plan fails?” Loki wondered. “What if you don’t bring back all the stones? Or what if you do, but it doesn’t bring anyway back?”

“Then I don’t know what I’d do.” You shrugged sadly. “This plan is all I have. If it fails…”

“You don’t even want to think about that, do you?” He finished your sentence when you trailed off. You looked at him and nodded softly, grateful that he understood.

“Yeah.” You said quietly. “It’s too hard to imagine.”

“See?” Loki interrupted again. “She was miserable on Earth. She said it herself. I was trying to save her from a lifetime of misery.”

“I think you’re forgetting something.” Mobius reminded him.

“Forgetting what?” Loki scoffed.

“The plan worked.” Mobius said. “Thor brought the Aether back to her original timeline, and the Avengers were able to bring everyone back. She was supposed to go too, but she was left on Asgard. That was your first offense with the TVA.”

“Oh, screw the TVA.” Loki slammed his hand on the table. “She didn’t want to go back to Earth. She was unhappy there.”

“Is that why you told her Earth was destroyed?” Mobius asked. Loki stilled and sank in his seat as he was reminded of his lies. Mobius fast forwarded again, but didn’t play another scene. Instead, he paused on a clip of you looked utterly devestated. Loki had to look away, not wanting to see you in that much pain.

“Now, I’m not gonna play this part.” Mobius shook his head. “Because even I find it hard to watch. But you need to know what you did, so I’ll remind you.”

“You don’t need to do this.” Loki seethed. “I know what I did. I know what I told her.”

“Fine, then.” Mobius shrugged. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath before looking back at the screen. The image of your desolate expression had never left his memory, so he really didn’t need to see it again to be reminded of what he had done.

“She tried to leave again.” Loki began as he stared at the screen. “I knocked her out with my magic. When she woke up, I told her Thanos had destroyed Earth and everyone on it. I said there was nothing left for her to return to.”

“She was devestated.” Mobius said quietly.

“I know she was.” Loki snapped. “She cried for a month straight.”

“So why’d you do it?” Mobius put his hands on his hips. “Why did you lie to her?”

“I didn’t want her to go.” Loki admitted, growing disgusted with himself. “I wanted her to stay with me on Asgard. She wouldn’t want to go back to Earth if she thought there was no Earth to go back to.”

“Why keep her?” Mobius wondered. “You barely knew her. Why hold her hostage like that?”

“She wasn’t held hostage.” Loki growled. “She was safe and loved and happy. No one on Asgard was taken better care of than she was. And I may not have known here when she first arrived, but we became inseparable after a while. We were almost married, for Odin’s sake. I’ll show you.”

Loki grabbed the remote from Mobius and pressed a button, fast forwarding until he found what he was looking for.

“Look.” Loki proudly pointed to the screen. “Watch this.”

He pressed play and watched as a memory of you and him played out on the screen.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Loki lead you somewhere with his hands over your eyes.

“Almost there. So impatient.” He clicked his tongue.

“You’ve taken me around the whole palace.” You chuckled. “I have a right to be impatient.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Loki stopped walking but didn’t remove his hands. “All right. We’re here.”

You pulled his hands off of your face and found yourself in front of two large green doors.

“Wow.” You said sarcastically. “Doors.

“Open the doors.” He rolled his eyes. You gave him a playful look over your shoulder before pushing the doors open.

“Oh my God.” You gasped when the doors opened. The room was decorated from ceiling to floor with all kinds of Asgardian wildlife. I’m the center of the room, your name was spelled out in the flower Loki had presented you with on the day you met. There was a running waterfall that cascading from the ceiling to the ground, leaving a soothing babbling sound throughout the room.

“It’s yours.” Loki said as he watched your reaction. “You mentioned once that you always wanted a garden. Now you do.”

“Oh, Loki.” You turned around and rushed into his arms. He stumbled back in surprise before hugging you back tightly.

“This is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.” You mumbled against his chest.

“Well, you’ve been so upset lately. I wanted to cheer you up.” He said as he stroked your hair. It had been a month since he lied to you and told you that Earth was destroyed, and you were finally starting to act like yourself again.

“Thank you.” You pulled away to look at him. “I love it. It’s beautiful.”

“I truly hope you like it, darling.” He said softly as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “It’s all yours.”

You looked into his eyes for a moment before your gaze fell to his lips. Since your last kiss, Loki had brought you food and kept you company every day. You had a built up a friendship with him since arriving to Asgard, but now you felt differently. There was a connection from the very first day, but it had gotten lost in your lament over your planets alleged destruction. Now, there was nothing stopping you from feeling that connection again. You hesitated before leaning it to kiss him. Just like last time, you felt his eyes flutter shut before he kissed you back. His hands cupped your face as you reached your arms around his neck. Loki watched your first kiss on the screen with a proud but mournful smile.

“Isn’t that something?” Mobius said as he paused the screen. Loki blinked back to reality and wiped his face, not realizing until that moment he had been crying.

“That scene speaks for itself.” Loki cleared his throat and tried to act like he hadn’t been crying. “You can see how happy she was. She loved that garden. And she loved me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Mobius nodded. “But it’s hard to see past the fact that your entire relationship was built on a lie. She was only with you because she thought her home was destroyed.”

“She was with me for three years.” Loki said sharply. “The lie may have kept her there in the beginning, but she stayed willingly after that. She wanted to be on Asgard. She wanted to be with me.”

“Maybe. But she wasn’t supposed to be.” Mobius reminded him. “That wasn’t her timeline. She was supposed to be on Earth. She was supposed to be with Peter.”

“Peter?” Loki sputtered in disdain. “Peter Parker? Her little boyfriend from when she was a teenager?”

“In most time lines, they end up together.” Mobius said, knocking the wind out of Loki’s chest. “She went on that mission because she wanted to bring him back. Do you think she would have stayed, even for a second, if she knew her boyfriend Peter was alive back on Earth?”

“She told me they were 17 when the Thanos wiped out half the universe. That means Peter would’ve been 17 when he returned. She was 22 when she came to Asgard. She hadn’t been his girlfriend for 5 years. She had grown up. Her life went on. They would’ve had nothing in common anymore.”

“But she was supposed-“

“Who cares what she was supposed to do?” Loki snapped. “Why does the TVA get to decided what she was supposed to do or where she was supposed to be?”

“They’re the Time Keepers. They make the rules. And the rules say you can’t take someone from a different timeline and marry them. Oh, that reminds me.”

“Reminds you of what?”

“Your punishment. Mobius pressed a different button and a cloudy box appeared. “Go in there while I get the rest of your files.”

“What? I’m not going in there.” Loki scoffed.

“Don’t make me get the guards.” Mobius sighed. Loki clenched his jaw and looked at the ceiling, not wanting to be overpowered by the guards again. He reluctantly stood up, gave Mobius a sarcastic smile, and went through the cloudy portal.

As soon as Loki stepped through the portal, he stepped into his bedroom back on Asgard. He took another step forward, just as something stirred in his sheets. You sat up all the sudden, hair messy and wearing Loki’s horned crown. It was too big for your head and hung in your eyes, but the sight still took Loki’s breath away.

“Y/n?” Loki gasped and stepped forward.

“Hi.” You said before yawning. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Go ahead.” Loki nodded eagerly. He failed to see how this was a punishment. It had been so long since he last saw you that this felt more like a reward.

“I want our wedding to be earth themed.” You told him as you took his hands in yours.

“Our…our wedding?” Loki asked. He looked around the room and realized that he was not actually with you, but reliving a memory from years ago.

“Yeah.” You smiled shyly. “I just miss it so much. I want it to be a part of our special day.”

Loki found himself at a loss for words. He knew that when this memory originally happened, he had continued to lie to you and lead you to believe Earth had been destroyed. This time, he knew better and kept his mouth shut.

“We could have sunflowers.” You continued. “That was my favorite flower back on earth. And we could serve earth food and play earth music and-“

“Of course darling.” He cut you off and squeezed your hand. “Whatever you want. We will have it all.”

“Thank you. And if it’s not too much to ask, I want a minute of silence where everyone lights a candle.” You said quietly. “For Peter.”

Loki gulped and forced a smile, that line causing him just as much pain now as it did then.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” You stood up from the bed and hugged him tightly. Loki hugged you back with a troubling frown on his face. He had forgotten how guilty he felt every time he had to lie to you. He pulled away and brought you into a long kiss, wordlessly trying to convey that he loved you and was sorry.

“I can’t wait. I can’t tell you how much I miss earth.” You sighed against his lips.

“Mm hm.” He gulped.

“I just wish I could’ve seen it one last time.” You frowned, eyes growing tearful. “I feel so guilty all the time. I would’ve died too if I had gone back with Thor when I was supposed to.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t go.” Loki said weakly, knowing Thor was very much alive in your timeline back on Earth.

“I know.” You sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to shake the survivors guilt. It makes me sick sometimes.”

Loki stayed silent as he fingers drummed against your waist. Before he could respond, his body jerked back and he suddenly reentered the room.

“Hi.” You said before yawning. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Loki looked behind him before looking back at you. The memory played all over again, forcing him to lie to you once again. When you told him how guilty you felt, he was sent back and had to relive the moment over again. Each time he had to lie to you, he felt more disgusted with himself. After the thirteenth time, he had enough.

“I lied to you.” He admitted. “Earth was never destroyed. Thor and all the Avengers and your family, they’re all fine.”

“What?” You blinked in confusion.

“I’m not your savior. I didn’t save you from anything. I stole you from your time line because I fell in love with you the moment we met. You were the first person to show a a genuine interest in me, and I took advantage of that. And for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry.”

“Oh, Loki.” You sighed and stroked his face. “It’s too late for that.”

“What?” He frowned as he wrapped his hand around your wrist to keep your palm against his face.

“I’m not even here.” You whispered.

“All right Loki.” Mobius walked through the portal before Loki could answer you. “I got the rest of your files. Let’s go.”

“But…I can’t just leave her.” Loki held on to you tightly.

“She’s not even real.” Mobius shrugged as he held up his remote. It pulled Loki back through the portal and he stumbled back into his seat.

“Here’s the last one.” Mobius said, but Loki wasn’t listening. He was still thinking about how it felt to touch you one last time. He blinked back a tear before looking up at the screen. You were there once again, talking to one of the new maids.

“Oh, I wasn’t born here.” He heard you telling the maid. “I’m from Earth.”

“A midgardian?” The maid smiled. “Wow. You’re quite far from home.”

“I know.” You smiled sadly. “I miss it every day. But I’m happy here. I’m really happy with Loki.”

“If you miss it, why don’t you go back?” The maid asked, making Loki suck in a breath. He knew exactly what was coming.

“Go back?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Earth was destroyed three years ago.”

“No it wasn’t.” The nurse laughed. “Earth is fine.”

The audio faded out as you turned to look at Loki. He felt like you were looking right through him, down to his rotten soul. Your face was frozen in horror and betrayal as you finally learned the truth. Three years after arriving on Asgard, you found out your home hadn’t been destroyed after all. It was all a lie. A lie told to you by the man you thought you loved.

“Stop.” Loki choked out. “Stop it. Turn it off.”

Mobius paused the screen and looked at Loki in silence. To his surprise, Loki was wiping his tears off on the sleeves of his jumpsuit. His eyes were red and full of remorse as he looked up at the screen.

“I don’t need it see it again.” He whispered. “I know she trusted me. I know I betrayed her. I did that.”

“So you understand why the TVA is arresting you?” Mobius asked softly. “You didn’t just steal the tesseract. You stole that girl from her reality. Even if she loved you, she was never supposed to be with you.”

Loki nodded before hanging his head in shame. He knew what he had done was wrong. He knew it the entire time he was doing it. Even though he betrayed you out of his love for you, he still betrayed you.

“You’re right.” Loki said sincerely. “She was never mine to keep. Never mine to lose either.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Mobius agreed as he watched Loki curiously. The look of utter remorse on Loki’s face was out of character after everything Mobius had studied about him.

“Could you just tell me if she’s all right?” Loki sniffled. “That’s all I ask. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Mobius answered. “She’s fighting for the Avengers again and reunited with her family.”

“Is she still miserable?”

“No.” Mobius smiled a little. “Not anymore.”

“And…and Peter?” His voice was barely audible now.

“Don’t worry about that.” Mobius told him. “It won’t do you any good. And for what it’s worth, there are timelines that exists where she stays. There’s even a timeline where you two are alligators and rule a kingdom in a lake.”

Loki smiled too, grateful that you were able to move on after his betrayal. Mobius furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of Loki genuinely caring about another human being, something he was not used to seeing.

“I could show you one more thing.” Mobius offered sympathetically. Loki reluctantly looked back at the screen as the man his play. To his surprise, all the good moments of his relationship with you flashed before him. All the kisses and laughter, fond smiles and endearing moments played on the screen, bringing tears to his eyes. He leaned toward on the table to get as close to you as possible, reaching out towards you with his shackled hands. The screen went blank suddenly, and his smile fell.

“They’re ready for you.” Mobius said as he checked his phone. “I can take you to the court now.”

Loki stayed silent as he was lead to the courtroom and sat in front of the judge. All he could think about was the moments of happiness he had been able to relive.

“Loki Laufeyson.” The judge brought his attention back. “How do you plead?

Loki blinked a few times, your smile flashing before him each time he closed his eyes. He thought about he had caused that smile to fade with every lie he told, and that’s when he knew he had his answer. He looked the judge right in the eye and entered his plea.

“Guilty.”

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki angst #loki series #loki spoilers #peter parker x reader

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

Dear Father [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: Wherever you are wherever you may be, even if you are beyond my reach, I only wish to see you again. -from a letter lost in the wind.

(A story where you and Diluc somehow managed to meet Crepus)

Genre: all fluff

"I know how late I am to father's day but here's my father's day take on Genshin Impact! Just let Diluc be happy for once T_T Mihoyo pls."

============================

Discovering Master Crepus' old belongings was like wandering in a domain surrounded by ancient artifacts. Each piece holding the memory of someone you've never met.

The paintings. Master Crepus loved to paint. Typically birds were the main muse of this portraits since they deeply embodied Mondstadt's values for freedom which shows you how much he cherished this city just like his son did. In almost every hallway you walked through there was a collection of his paintings, some belonged to another artist but the majority was an original work. Diluc didn't have the heart to sell them.

Elzer. He was one of the oldest workers who served under the Ragnvindr name, ever since Master Crepus had appointed him during his earlier days. You were told that he treated everyone, both staff and noble, with equal respect. Almost all the denizens of Mondstadt knew this man for he was not only noble in riches but also in the soul.

"I'm sure he would have loved to meet you in person. Now that I think about it, you and Master Crepus are quite similar. Haha, it seems that Master Diluc was selective in terms of who he wanted for his future bride."

Elzer adds with a light chuckle but the statement only made you more curious. A man who affected the lives of so many others, he must have been a wonderful person.

Diluc. The bloodline Master Crepus left behind after his death, a piece of himself and the heir to the whole wine industry, his son Diluc. Although you could see the resemblance in appearance, both of them were men of prinicples and values, putting Mondstadt first before anything else and you suddenly realized if that was the reason why Diluc was so protective of this city. As if, it were everything he had? You could tell he loved Master Crepus very much, not because he said so, rather the painful expression buried deep within his crimson glare whenever someone brought up the topic. Diluc was skilled in hiding himself, it's something he practiced over the years of working alone, though he lowered his guard as long as you were the only one present.

Even so, he had many conflicts still wringing him internally and you didn't want to push him until the day he felt ready to personally tell you himself.

But it would be nice if he opened up, just a little bit.

There were times when you would worry since Diluc had the tendency to hide his feelings for the sake of not troubling you. He wanted to keep life simple and bright, bringing the best to the table while making sure that you lived safely out of harm's way. You couldn't seem to get him to understand that as lovers, you would be happy to help him, in anything. Unconditionally. It was natural for you to feel the need to force yourself in every once in a while and there was nothing more you wanted to know than the story of the man who raised him.

You would even jest on the idea of what it fel like to meet Master Crepus in person. Were you able to reach his standards by any chance? Would he have liked you just as everyone claimed? Of course, they were only silly indulgent thoughts so you quickly dismissed them in the end. Bringing back the past was impossible no matter how badly you wanted it. You closed your heart on that possibility.

On a lovely evening, while you and Diluc were taking your time off Angel's Share to make a stroll around Mondstadt's quiet streets, a strange merchant called over to you. She displayed various antiques ranging from different sizes to designs, none of them seemed to haven been carved in the same place but distinct cultures throughout Teyvat. The only thing they had in common was that they were all equally beautiful to the eye.

However a particular item of what looks like to be a heart locket snatches your attention and you instantly became mesmerized, allured by it's mysterious charm.

"Ah, the locked heart caught your fancy, my lady? It's said once you open it, you will be set free."

"It's magnificent..." you muttered, staring unabashed at the shining surface.

Diluc who was observing from behind folded his arms and tilts his head, "How much is that?"

Although you intended to simply inspect the choices, your lover immediately offers to pay. They all already gave the impression of a hefty price and you didn't want him to spend his fortune on things that deemed unecessary. Still, this wasn't the first time it happened. Diluc would always insist whenever you protested against him from buying anything, it was just a way of expressing his affections towards you. Mora was never a problem and you were priceless. That's how he sees things. You had to remind yourself to be careful when stumbling upon a bustling area full of salesmen next time.

"Five hundred thousand mora."

He purchased it without hesitation.

On your way home, Diluc noticed that something was amiss. You couldn't tear your gaze from the locket as if it had hypnotized you by the golden smooth surface. He had to ensure you didn't run into anyone by accident, tugging your arm closer so that it gave him an opportunity to lead you where you yourself could not. Surely it must have been the appearance but instead of being drawn by, you were drawn in. Completely.

I wonder...what will happen if I open it?

"(Y/n)?" Diluc narrows his eyebrows together. Did you like it that much? No, he knew you weren't the type to be so etranced by jewelry, this was certainly different. Even the merchant seemed a little suspicious when she approached you and Diluc couldn't ignore the heavy sense of aminosity that was emitted around her aura. He couldn't think within her presence but now that his mind was much clearer, he was able to use his skillful judgements.

"Wait...! Don't open it yet-"

However, he was too late.

The wind picks up at an alarming speed and you both brought up your arms to block the debris that had flown in the way. They swirled in non-stop motion until your worlds were engulfed with not even the sky in sight. Amidst the turmoil Diluc latchest onto you and holds your body close his chest as he was determined to protect against any force that dared to hurt you. Something heavy knocks his head and he winces, tighting his hold even further. Your voice could hardly be heard with all the noise that rung around and eventually you discovered the the world wasn't disappearing. You both were.

The last thought you had was the image of Master Crepus and you didn't know why.

---

"Diluc? Diluc?"

He faintly heard his name through a series of echoes. Diluc fights to regaind concousness, feeling your grip upon his shoulder while trying to urge him awake.

"Diluc are you alright?"

Your worried face was the first thing he sees other than the fog that looms above. Diluc blinks a few times in an attempt to ease his migraine, using one arm to force his body into a seating position as he allowed himself to be supported by you at the same time.

"Does your head hurt?" You ask, palming gently against his forehead to feel the heat. Even if her was usually very warm, there was no unusual rise in tempurature, something must have hit him instead, "Here, maybe this will help."

Bringing out your hand you concentrated on generating the water through your fingertips. Having a hydro vision meant you were capable of healing magic which Diluc appreciated since he often came home late at night with injuries hidden behind his sleeves. But nothing came out and he became even more suspicious of the situation.

"Eh? What's going on?" You blurted out, patting down your clothes and your pockets, "My Vision, it's gone too!"

"Mine as well," Diluc flexes his fingers to test his own element, "It seems that our powers were sealed once we entered this domain."

"A domain that prevents you from using a Vision? That doesn't sound very comforting," you scratched your head, suddenly remembering the cause of your current problem, "The locket...it's all starting to make sense now. Ugh, I should have listened to you earlier, I'm sorry Diluc."

"No (Y/n), you don't have to apologize," he interjects and you returned a curious glance, "I should have stopped you the minute I discovered there was something strange. I was too careless."

"You felt that too? I thought I was the only one," your tone and face mimics one of surprise. The fog continues to dance around, enclosing the two of you to the small area. You lifted your head and looked above in deep contemplation, "When I saw the locket I couldn't tear my eyes off of it, like something was pulling me in. Like...there was a spell casted on it."

"What do you mean?" he asked in an inquisitive manner.

You nod, "I can't put my finger on it bit Ifel that the locket wanted me to..." balling your fist upon your lap, you stared intensely at the floor as if drilling holes into them while digging into the depths of your mind for any specific clues. Initially you thought the locket was so captivating that you were simply charmed by it's craftmanship. But tere was more than that, you began deciphering, there was also a need for fulfillment. A yearning desire, "to know. The locket was calling me to know."

'Once you open it, you will be set free.'

"To know..." you trailed off. How strange. No matter how much you tried to rationalize, you were always brought back to the same square as if the locket knew exactly what you wanted. What you were lacking. Because the one thing you wanted to know most about was the person you've never met, "Someone very important to you."

The fog dispersed.

Diluc instinctively puts an arm in front of you defensively as he scanned his quick and thorough eyes around the area. It didn't take long for him to know exactly where everything was. In fact, the abrupt change isn't what puts him on high alert, but it was how familiar everything looked to the point he evaluates if there was any reason to be skeptical or if he should be breathtaken.

"What a beautiful house," However you didn't recognize it. Diluc knew because he had yet to meet you during the time he lived in this estate, "I wonder who does it belong to?"

"Father's old mansion...how?" Diluc breatlessly mutters, as if seeing the supremecy of Celestia for the first time. When years passed after his father died, he chose to sell off the majority of his belongings, the mansion being on for example. Currently it was in the possession of a well-known business associate that used to be a friend of Crepus. The mansion would likely have looked much different due to the renovations it gone through but Diluc remembers the picture as if this were yesterday. Everything was in tact. The vine yard, the gazebo where they drank tea, the hill that he and Kaeya used to race on when they were kids-

Revelation burns in his pupils as his eyes expanded.

"Welcome home, my son."

Both you and Diluc fall wordless at the sight that appeared like a miracle's blessing. Crepus stands at a distance, the graceful smile complimenting his warm features. He looked exactly how the court artists portrayed him in the Ragnvindr's family picture. Sharp face with gentle eyes and an aura that was as pleasant as what Elzer described.

"So this is why the locket was calling to us," you whispered, "I guess the mora really was worth it after all."

"...Fa...ther...."

You snuck a glance at Diluc. From behind the resemblance was as clear as dawn, like you were staring at a carbon copy of Master Crepus himself. Almost. He was a less hardened version of Diluc during uncommon situations. It made you think just how much you didn't know before his father passed away. What kind of person was this man during his days as a knight? You never had the chance to know.

"Father is that really you?" Diluc couldn't help his voice from trembling, paralyzed in place when he could hardly make sense of what stands in front of him. The person he longed to hear from, the person who left the world too quick, Diluc was afraid to get his hopes up in case his father suddenly disappeared and everything was just an illusion conjured by his mind. He was already used to being betrayed and dealt with disappointment too often. Which is why he learned to trust only himself. But, right now, can he really trust himself?

Feeling your hand gently on his shoulders, Diluc was brought back to reality. You smiled with warm reassurance that bled into your voice, "It's okay Diluc. Go, I'm here for you."

There was the faintest light shining in his eyes as emotions swell in his chest. Ever since you came Diluc never had to feel alone anymore, truly, you were the light that was brought back into his eyes, to his life when he gave up the thought of seeing it again. If he couldn't trust himself then at the very least, he could trust you.

"Thank you," he embraces you wholly like you were everything, and you were, before letting go and taking off to the otherside.

The air hits him in a rush and knocks the ones out of his lungs, "Father!" Diluc yells with tearful eyes. For the first time in a long while he was finally letting his feelings run free, "Father!" A name that felt foreign upon words that is pushes him forward, wanting to claim the truth that was smiling from afar.

"Father!"

Crepus lifted his arms and openly catches Diluc when he crashed into him. Here. He was here. He certainly was.

"Haha its been a while hasn't it my son?" He begins, encasing Diluc in a hug like he did the day he turned eighteen. Crepus was a tall man and his genes seemed to have went through. Back when they were younger, Diluc managed to only reach the blade of his shoulders, just barely. Now they were practically the same height, "Look how much you've grown over the years. There were so many things I planned to say but I don't know where to start."

Seven years. That was how long Crepus spent alone with his thoughts. He saw what happened through that time span, the truth about the Knights and Kaeya's origins. To say that none of that bothered him would be a lie. Especially when his son was the most impacted throughout all the events.

"Father I...I-" Diluc tries to speak but the words dissolved the moment it reached his tongue. He wasn't the type to be very good at expressing emotions. None of it could simply be communicated by sentences. For him, actions spoke louder yet somehow, they still wouldn't be enough. Nothing can comprehend the weight of seven years.

Crepus seemed to have understood and fills in the gap instead, "I have also missed you and Kaeya. More than I can even say. It must have been so hard for you both to endure it all by yourselves. Life hits us when we least expect it but despite that, you still chose to persevere."

Diluc clenches his hold, face buried in his shoulders and mouth quivering as he barely answers, "Yeah."

"You're both my pride and joy no matter what happens, as a father I cannot be more proud," before knowing, everything that was said came out naturally from his spirit. Crepus may have his own set of things to share but he knew what Diluc needed the most, "So please don't stop relying on one another, don't always think that you have to do everything alone. Stength is a virtue. However, its okay to let go and allow new people to come into your life. I don't need to be avenged, as long as you and Kaeya are happy, its all I ask for."

As if the world had been lifted from his shoulders, Diluc allows himself to break just this once. On the outside, he was known to be an unstoppable force, the Mondstadt tycoon, the uncrowned king and a hero who serves at night. But here you saw only a boy who dearly missed his father as he hugs him tightly. Although you couldn't hear their conversation clearly, just watching them from where you stood was enough to make your eyes glisten from pure happiness.

"You finally chose to open your heart, right Diluc?" You quietly note to yourself, "You don't have to carry everything by yourself anymore, you're free."

'Once you open it, you will be set free.'

He was able to dwell in this one in a lifetime experience, all because you unlocked the heart and dispersed the fog inside.

They spent a good amount of minutes bringing the distance back together after being seperated for so many years. You made sure to make minimal movements in the consideration of their time. It was only temporary until Crepus noticed you standing in the distance and he gave you a quick glance. Your whole body tenses in response, suddenly feeling guilty as if you were a third wheel who didn't belong in the moment between two family members.

He's staring at me. Diluc's father is staring at me! Your thoughts panicked along with your thrumming heart. What should I do?!!

"I see you've brought someone along with you," He comments, the playfulness rising in his tone, "She seems to have been waiting for quite a while already. If you don't mind, may you do the honours of introducing her to me?"

Diluc turns to see you stiffened in place with your hands tightly clasped below your stomach and heat pooling from your ear to your cheeks as you dipped your head down. His father was a kind man and he couldn't understand there the discomfort came from, yet found it endearing nonetheless. Diluc walks over to you and extends his hand, silently urging you to come with him. You complied, albeit hesitantly at first.

"It'll be okay my love," he whispered softly, causing you to be taken aback by the nickname he called you by. Diluc often reserves them for special instances and this was one of them, "Whatever the staff told you about my father, they're the truth. Trust in their judgement. Trust in me."

"Diluc..." you say, voice fading. You knew him to be someone who always kept his word and someone who would never lie to you. Taking in a short breath, you nodded, "Alright, I will," and followed his lead.

There was once a time where you indulged in the idea of facing Master Crepus in person. But never did you prepare yourself for the amount of pressure it came with. Now that you were together with his son, there was a high chance that he would also become part of his family too, sooner or later. You weren't just meeting Master Crepus. You were also meeting your future father-in-law.

"Father, this is (Y/n)," Diluc starts the welcoming exchanges. You felt his hand squeeze yours gently. He turns to you so that you caught glimpse of his face, seeing the reverance in his gaze that was hinted among his handsome features, "She's the woman I fell in love with and I would do anything to make her happy. I cherish her more than anything else."

"D-Diluc!" you flushed, your embarassment as red as his own hair. But he wasn't bothered by it in the slightest.

"I only speak the truth."

Master Crepus lets out a content chuckle, drawing both of your attentions back to him, "He can be surprising poetic sometimes but I'm sure that he got it from me. Even my wife reacted the same way," he reminisced shortly before sighing, "In truth I already knew that you were together. Staying in the after life gave me the chances to watch things from an omniscient standpoint, I was sincerely worried how Diluc would handle things when I suddenly left, I hope you don't mind. If you do, I apologize for making you uncomfortable."

"N-Not at all!"

"Haha, you're very kind. Thank you. I'm glad that my son was able to find a woman like you to be his fated partner. As a parent, it brings me great reassurance," Crepus remarked, "I know he can be stubborn and a little too headstrong when it comes to making decisions. It really must be a handful for you to deal with at times but I promise you that he means well. So please continue to watch over him in my stead, take care of my son while I'm gone."

"You can count on me," you beamed, "I'll give it my all."

"You have my gratitude (Y/n)," Crepus replies and turned to Diluc, "And listen to her every once in a while. I may have been the previous owner of our wine industry but even I always make sure to get me sufficient amount of rest. Son you know its bad to get two to three hours of sleep every day."

You blinked, "Two to three hours?"

Diluc clears his throat, "I understand Father. You don't have to say it."

Oh I think he does.

With a satisfied grin, Crepus took both of your hands together in his and gave you his blessings. The man once considered to be an artifact through the vast mansion was going to be part of the memories in your life. All of your expressions held as much happiness as the future can become now that he gave you the closure you both needed.

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shroudcore · 3 years

Text

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers.

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now.

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar.

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course.

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well.

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level.

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it.

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to:

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer.

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours.

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes.

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged.

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again.

They loved you. And Idia was no different.

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten.

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved.

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…”

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No…”

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you.

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words?

He looked away.

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe.

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?”

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway.

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that.

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him.

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?”

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble?

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case).

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him?

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride.

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors.

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood.

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head.

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there.

Help… oh no…

2m…

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho…

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left.

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace.

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit.

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back.

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck.

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory.

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground.

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-”

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself.

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand.

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!”

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again.

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!”

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter.

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside.

“You left me there!” Idia huffed.

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!”

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it. I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise.

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care.

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway.

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did.

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day.

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point. But if you have time, I could go on forever.

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that.

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend.

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself.

Oh, and enjoy your new manga.

Your best raid teammate,

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was.

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same.

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again.

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning.

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!”

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all.

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!”

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!”

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved.

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit.

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little.

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together.

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios.

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light.

THE END.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback!

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.”

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

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perlukafarinn · 3 years

Text

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again.

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less.

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago.

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to.

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas.

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it.

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married.

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place.

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly.

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account).

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone.

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips.

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely.

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up.

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters.

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

#deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post-canon #established relationship #thank u to miriam who read through most of this #and assured me that it's plenty gay!

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

A Caged Dove Finale (Shouto Todoroki x Reader)

Summary: You are a princess from a smaller territory within the kingdom, summoned to the castle to meet with the heir of the throne in the absence of your parents. You think it will simply be a routine trip, until you realize that Prince Shouto has his own plans for you. Whether you agree with them or not.

Pairing: Prince Shouto Todoroki x Reader Rating: Explicit + Word Count: 4.8k Chapter Warnings: Dubcon, forced pregnancy, pregnant sex, praise kink, lactation kink, yandere Series Warnings: Dubcon, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, breeding, pregnant sex, praise kink, lactation kink, stalking, yandere. Some vague descriptions of pregnancy stuff, including morning sickness. Note: Fairy Tale AU. (More Grimm than Disney). Well this is extremely bittersweet. The final part of my very first series (that I swore I would never do.) Despite cussing this story occasionally, I really loved writing it and I’m rather proud of the end result. I hope everyone else likes it just as much! Thanks: To @hisoknen, for reassuring me that the sex scene was indeed hot. And to @burnedbyshoto for being there to listen to me scream about attempting to write all of the Todorokis in one scene. And also for encouraging my deviant lactation kink.

One || Two || Three || Four || Finale

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You let out a pained groan as you roll over in bed for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour, trying to find a more comfortable position. Something that was near impossible, considering the reason for your discomfort.

Despite your best hopes, you had gotten pregnant shortly after the wedding. You suppose it wasn’t so surprising, with how insatiable Shouto is. He was determined to have a child quickly, and refused to finish anywhere but inside you. He would take you multiple times a day, until you were so sore that you could barely walk. He was an attentive lover, at least, always making sure you finished as well. That you thoroughly enjoyed yourself, was nothing but a satisfied, boneless mess, sweaty and exhausted and more than ready to curl up with him and sleep.

There was one big positive to your pregnancy, however. You were able to leverage your condition to get Shouto to release your parents from their confinement. You convinced him that not knowing where they were and what was going on with them would only stress you further and harm the baby. It was not even much of a lie, as you were beginning to worry he had already had them killed and was hiding the truth from you. But you were proven wrong when he finally allowed you to see them.

They were not in as bad a condition as you assumed they would be, and were ecstatic to see you. Although they were horrified by what had happened to their daughter, the forced marriage and pregnancy, you reassured them that it was not so bad. Partly because it was the truth, as much as you hated to admit it, and partly because you were terrified they would do something stupid in order to rescue you.

It was this concern that led Shouto to accuse them of treason, but he merely had them stripped of their titles and lands, banished to another country with no political power. He made even this positive publicity, standing in front of a gathering to announce the news with a stricken look on his face, talking about how his beloved wife had begged for her parents’ lives. How he loved his wife too much to harm her in such a way, and had chosen the way of mercy, provided they left the country forever.

The kingdom loves him more than ever now. They whisper about what a beautiful love story it is, how Shouto went below his class to marry his true love. How he risked looking weak by allowing traitors to live, all because the love of his life begged for mercy. How the princess herself was so benevolent, forgiving the people who had hurt her.

You had asked Shouto for one last favor on the day of their banishment. You wanted to speak to your parents privately before they left, as you knew it was the last time you would ever see them. He relented after some pleading on your part, but warned you that his mercy would not extend to allowing them to live if they moved against him.

You agreed, of course. Even if you wanted to be rescued, there was no way you would risk their lives for it. So when you saw them off, you were the ones reassuring them as they sobbed. They told you to only say the word, and they would come for you, and would rescue you. You placed your hand gently on your stomach, reassuring them that you would be okay. That it wasn’t so bad to be married to Prince Shouto, that he took good care of you. What shocked you is the realization that you weren’t lying, that you were becoming more comfortable as his wife.

You think it started on the day that changed everything. The day you realized you were pregnant.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You rush to the bathroom, barely making it before you violently throw up yet again. This had been happening for over a week now, and you couldn’t figure out why you were so sick. You thought at first that you may have gotten food poisoning, but that was unlikely with the palace chefs making sure you and the royal family had nothing but the best. And besides, when you made sure to eat different foods, the sickness still continued.

Your head swims with dizziness as another intense wave of nausea overtakes you. And that was when your sister-in-law poked her head into the bathroom, apparently having heard you rush to the bathroom in a panic.. “Are you okay in here?” She asks with concern in her voice.

“I’m fine,” you manage to choke out before turning back to heave. You have been so sick that there is really nothing left in your stomach, and you find yourself simply gagging instead. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine. I can’t stop throwing up.”

You see Fuyumi’s expression turn contemplative, before asking the question that turns your world on its axis. “Sweetie, when was the last time you had your period?”

Your eyes widen, your hand coming to clamp over your mouth to hold the gasp that was bubbling up inside of you. “I - oh god - I don’t know,” you whisper. “I don’t remember. A few months, maybe?”

Fuyumi goes from hopeful to pure joy within seconds of your confession. “Sweetheart, you’re pregnant!” She practically jumps up and down from the excitement, not even noticing your look of shock and despair. Or perhaps she is choosing to simply ignore it. “I’m going to be an aunt! And oh, Shouto is going to be over the moon when you tell him!”

“I didn’t think it would happen so quickly,” you whisper. In fact, you had secretly hoped it would not happen at all. A fact that you will never reveal to anyone. It’s not that you don’t want to be a mother. You always have, had even dreamed of it. But in this situation, it only drove home the true reality of your situation. You had no control over any aspect of your life anymore.

“You have to tell him immediately! Actually, let me go grab him for you. You can tell him now,” Fuyumi practically squeals as she turns around to leave the room. Before you can open your mouth to tell her that it can wait, the excited woman has already ran out the door. You let out a sigh, supposing that there is no use in delaying the inevitable as you pick yourself up from the floor.

By the time your husband enters the room, you’ve been able to freshen yourself up a bit. “Fuyumi said you had something to tell me?” Shouto’s face is a mask of concern as he sits beside you in the bed, pulling you close into his arms.

“I do,” you say hesitantly, not really sure how to begin this talk. But you figure that the best way is to just come right out and say it and not beat around the bush. “Shouto, I’m pregnant.”

It takes a second for the news to truly sink in, but when it does, the smile that takes over is truly radiant. The laughter that slips out is so pure that you find yourself smiling despite yourself. And when he pushes you down on the bed to put one hand over your stomach, you can’t stop your own laughter from spilling out.

“Do you think I can feel the baby kick,” he murmurs as he gently pushes on your stomach. You laugh a bit harder as you shake your head. “Honey, I’m pretty sure it’s way too early for that.”

It isn’t until he gives you a soft smile that you realize you called him honey.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the door opening, and you glance up to see your husband walk in. He smiles at you as he takes his jacket and shoes off, looking happier than usual. His whole demeanor screams excitement, and something else you can’t put your finger on.

As he begins to get into night clothes, you decide to simply ask him. “You seem happier than you usually do after meeting with the nobility,” you note. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, something amazing happened,” his smile twists up into a smirk as he changes the subject, a sure sign that he’s done talking about this particular topic. You decide not to push for now, and mentally remind yourself to ask him about it later.

“How are you feeling, love?” He climbs into bed as he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you tightly into his embrace. He nuzzles at your neck, causing you to giggle.

“I feel like I’m about to pop, I’m so big. My feet are swollen and hurt, and my breasts are sore and leaking. But other than that, I’m fine,” you snark at him.

“My beautiful, hormonal wife,” he chuckles as he rolls you over, climbing on top of you but being careful not to put too much weight on your stomach. He plants kisses down your neck, sucking gently at your pulse point as his hands run smoothly up and down your sides.

“Shouto, I - you need to stop,” you whisper, not because you really want him to but because of how self conscious you feel about yourself as you are now.

“Is it because of this,” he murmurs as he touches your swollen stomach. You try to look away as he traces his fingertips across your belly, but he simply turns your face back towards him. You give him a quick nod in affirmation, and are surprised when he chuckles.

“Love, you have never looked more beautiful to me, all big and swollen with my child.” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds at his words, your face growing hot as he smiles at your reaction.

He begins to trail down your body, stopping to gently squeeze one of your breasts. You grab at his hand to try and pull it away, but he quickly stops you. “I told you, I’m -” you pause for a second, embarrassed to finish your sentence, before changing your mind and simply saying, “they hurt.”

“Hmm, I do believe I can help with that,” he smirks as his grip around your breast tightens. You let out a surprised gasp as milk leaks out, causing the front of your nightgown to develop a wet spot on the material. But the sound isn’t one of pain, but of pleasure at some of the pressure being relieved.

“Oh you like that, do you?” Shouto’s voice goes low and husky as he rips your shirt over your head. He leans down to knead a nipple between two fingers, licking his lips as more milk comes out. “Would hate to waste this, wouldn’t you?”

“Shouto, what are you - ahh!” You let out a moan as he latches around one of your nipples and begins to suckle. You make a move to stop him, to try and push him away. But you quickly realize you don’t actually want him to stop as the pain of being too full ebbs with every gulp he takes. So you simply trail your fingers through his hair and let him continue. “Oh god, that feels so good,” you moan out, throwing your head back against the pillow.

He pulls away just long enough to pull his pants down, letting his already painfully hard cock loose. You can see the red, swollen head already leaking precum, and he grips it in his fist as he moves to take your other nipple into his mouth. “You taste so fucking good.”

His grunts and groans as he strokes himself while drinking your milk has your pussy clenching around nothing, juices gushing out and making a mess of the bedsheets below you. You didn’t think this would feel so good, but the throbbing of your core tells you just how much you’re enjoying yourself. And if Shouto’s pace as he rubs himself is anything to go by, he is enjoying himself just as much.

“Dirty girl, I bet you could cum just from me drinking your milk. Do you like it that much?”

You reach down to thread your fingers around the back of his head, pulling him down to your aching nipple. “Please, don’t stop,” you whimper in a needy tone. He chuckles as he reaches down to rub your throbbing clit. “Cum for me, then. Cum while I’m sucking on these beautiful tits.”

You let out a sharp gasp as a wave of pleasure runs through your body. Shouto moves down to take a nipple into his mouth, licking the stray droplets of milk that leaked out. He groans as he continues to stroke himself in time with the tight circles across your clit.

Your face contorts in pleasure, toes curling as you find yourself tipping over the edge into a powerful orgasm. Shouto coaxes you through it, not letting up until you’re squirming from overstimulation, breath coming in harsh gasps.

“God, I have to be inside you right now,” he growls, pulling away almost entirely as he rips off your soaked panties with one quick movement and spreads your folds apart as he prepares to enter you.

You whine as his cock spreads you open, inch by inch. You’re so wet from your previous orgasm that he slips in without resistance, and so sensitive that you can feel every vein on his cock.

“Still so tight for me,” he groans as he finally bottoms out inside you, heavy balls resting against your backside. He puts his hands under your ass, lifting your hips off the bed as he begins to thrust inside your soaked pussy.

You can tell he’s trying to hold back, to be gentle with you. But when you reach up to fondle your breast, squeezing just enough for milk to dribble down towards your stomach, you know he’s reached his limit.

He growls as he begins slamming inside of you, leaning down to lick up the trail of milk before latching back onto the nipple. You clench down hard around his cock as you see his throat working as he sucks down your milk like a man starved.

His thrusts are so deep, so powerful that your breasts and round belly are bouncing and you’re unable to do anything but lay back and take it. He releases your nipple with a wet pop, rubbing his hand along your swollen stomach. “You look so good like this that I should keep you pregnant all the time,” he groans, “would you like that?”

You don’t answer, choosing to reach between your bodies to find your clit, but Shouto snarls and smacks your hand away before pinning both arms above your head with one hand. “I said, would you like that?” He pulls all the way to the entrance of your pussy before slamming back in with one powerful thrust. “Would you like to be bred constantly, all round with my children so I can pin you down like this and milk these tits?”

You whimper when his thrusts get more savage as he finds a sensitive spot inside of you and deliberately aims for it. You can feel your stomach begin to tighten, all of your nerves feeling like they’re on fire as you get closer to that edge. Your pussy won’t stop clamping down on Shouto’s cock as he pounds you into the mattress. But just as you reach the edge, you feel him begin to slow down. Your orgasm is suddenly pulled away from you as you hear a dark chuckle.

“Answer me, princess,” he whispers to you. Your lust addled mind can’t seem to comprehend what question he means. “Shouto, please,” you try to move your hips, push back on his cock to reach the orgasm that was denied. But he simply holds your hips firmly in place, preventing you from moving as he waits for his answer.

He makes an impatient noise when you still won’t answer, moving his fingers in between your soaked folds as he grazes your clit. His thumb grinds down on the sensitive bead, and he groans as he feels you clench around him. “Come on,” he coaxes, “tell me how much you want my cum, how much you want me to breed you again.”

You let out a choked sob at the pleasure running through you, body so oversensitive from hormones and your previous orgasm. You want nothing more than to cum again, to feel Shouto cum with you and fill you up. “Shouto, please breed me again,” you finally start to beg with no shame in your tone. “I need to feel you cum inside me again, please -”

He lets out a low growl as he abandons all sense of rhythm, pounding into your pussy like a man possessed. His hips pick up speed, wet noises of skin slapping against skin filling the room along with your combined grunts and moans. He deliberately hits your g-spot with every thrust, wanting you to come undone around his cock.

The pressure is building back up inside of you quickly, muscles in your stomach tightening and toes curling as your orgasm hits you hard, causing your pussy to flutter wildly around his cock and more milk to dribble out of your sore nipples. Shouto’s pace stutters at the sight, forcing his cock all the way inside of you as he leans over to lick your nipples clean. Just the taste is enough to send him over the edge of his orgasm, thick ropes of hot cum filling your pussy as he continues to drain you dry.

You both stay there for what feels like forever, but was probably only a few minutes, until Shouto gently lowers himself behind you. He pulls you carefully towards his body, nuzzling you as he kisses a wet line down the column of your neck. “I love you, you know,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m so glad you’re mine now.”

You pause for a few seconds as you consider his words. It’s not the first time he’s used them, and it won’t be the last. Despite everything he’s done, you do believe him. It’s a possessive, all consuming love that will allow nothing else but you and your children together. But you believe it’s still love.

At your silence, Shouto lets out a disappointed sigh. That is one thing he has not been pushy about, told you that he was waiting for you to realize the truth and say the words yourself. You open your mouth to respond to him, although you’re not sure how, when someone comes barging through the door. Whatever words you were about to say die in your throat as you take in the appearance of the one who dared to intrude on Prince Shouto and his heavily pregnant wife.

You barely recognize Fuyumi, with her clothes being put on haphazardly and eyes bloodshot. Her face is splotchy and red, as if she’s been crying for a long time. And then you realize with a start that’s exactly what’s happening, as you see more tears run down her face. “Shouto, it’s - oh god, it’s Dad, he -”

Her words run over each other in a blur as she tries to finish her sentence. “Fuyumi, calm down and speak clearly. What’s going on with our dear old dad?” His voice comes out so cold that you almost don’t recognize it, and you can’t even begin to interpret the look on his face.

“He’s dead,” Fuyumi barely manages to get out before she begins to sob brokenly. “How can he be dead, I don’t understand -”

Shouto’s bearing changes immediately at her words as he begins to take over the situation. He orders Fuyumi to leave the room so he can get changed, instructing her on various procedures for what to do when the King of the realm dies. A nagging thought occurs to you at how odd it is that he knows all this information off the top of his head, before you try to mark it down as meaningless. Of course he would be trained in such things as the heir to the throne. But you’ve learned to trust your instincts, and right now they’re screaming at you.

“You need to get dressed, love,” he says as he kisses your forehead. “Until we know what’s going on, you need to stay close to me.” You quickly nod as you pull yourself reluctantly from the bed and begin to hunt for your clothes.

You’re both ready within 20 minutes, and you head to the Great Hall where everyone is gathered. You glance around and see the rest of the Todoroki family all gathered together, and you breathe a small sigh of relief that they’re okay. Queen Rei looks like she’s in shock, barely holding it together. Fuyumi has an arm around her as she tries to comfort her, but utterly fails due to how much she herself is crying.

What’s concerning is Prince Natsuo and Prince Touya, who simply look amused by the whole spectacle. Prince Touya’s face splits into a huge grin as he sees you and Shouto walk up to him, clapping his back with one hand. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order.”

Fuyumi comes out of her stupor long enough to glare at him. “Congratulations? Our dad is dead and you’re congratulating him?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s the King now,” Prince Touya chuckles. “Isn’t that right, brother? You do intend to take your rightful throne now, don’t you?”

Prince Natsuo has stayed quiet through this exchange, but you notice he is staring at Shouto with grim determination. As if he’s already decided something, and is merely waiting for the right moment to mention it.

“Of course I do,” Shouto nods. “I’ve prepared for this moment my whole life.” He glances over at you with a tender look in his eyes as he pulls you into his arms. “And now I have a beautiful wife and an heir,” he murmurs, running his hand over your stomach.

“Now you just need the spare,” Prince Touya snorts. “You ready for that, princess?” He snickers as he sees you turn away in embarrassment, but before he can continue to tease you, you’re interrupted by one of King Enji’s advisors. The man leans in to whisper something into your husband’s ear, and your husband simply nods and waves the man away.

Shouto motions for the rest of the family to come closer as he reveals what the advisor had told him. “It seems dear old dad was assassinated.” He breaks the news with no fanfare, no buildup, no emotion of any kind. But this information sends shockwaves through the rest of the family.

Queen Rei’s face goes completely blank, as if unable to process it. Fuyumi’s hand flies to her mom to contain her gasp. Touya simply starts laughing, looking at Shouto with what almost appears to be pride. And Natsuo remains completely silent, continuing to study Shouto as if he’s trying to figure something out.

“The kingdom will see unrest when the truth of this gets out,” Shouto continues as if he didn’t just drop a bomb through his family. “We’ll need to have the coronation quickly, so that there’s no panic. Ideally tomorrow, if we can get it set up.”

Fuyumi rushes towards Shouto, a look of pure fury on her face. “Dad’s dead and you’re already talking about taking over? Do you have any emotion over this at all?”

“Oh, I think our brother has a lot of emotions right now,” Touya gives a darkly amused laugh. “Don’t think it’s the same ones you’re having, though.”

Choosing to ignore his older brother, Shouto instead addresses his sister. “There’s nothing you or Mom can do tonight. Take her to your room. I’ll station guards outside just in case, and I’ll handle whatever planning needs to be done.”

Fuyumi looks like she’s going to demand to stay, but Queen Rei lays her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “He’s right. There’s nothing we can do,” her voice comes out a reedy whisper, so quiet that you have to strain to hear her. But you notice the way she looks at Shouto before finally turning to leave. As if she’s never truly seen him before.

“Same for you, love,” Shouto pulls you into his arms to kiss your forehead. “You especially need to rest. I’ll walk you back to our room.”

You’re too tired to even think of protesting, and your feet and ankles already hurt from standing. So you nod and allow yourself to be taken away from the crowd and back into your room. “I’m going to be busy for a while taking care of everything, but I’ll make sure to check in on you.”

He places his hand on the side of your face, tracing a finger down your jawline before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss. And then he drops to his knees, gently lifting your shirt to plant another kiss on your round stomach. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise,” he murmurs. “I love you both.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Despite protests from Fuyumi and Rei herself, the coronation is being held the very next day, even before the king’s funeral. But if anybody else had any issues with the order of events, nobody spoke out about it.

You just finished getting helped into the floor length ball gown you would be wearing for the event when your husband walks in to see you. You see the look of appreciation on his face at your dress, designed to be flattering while also not concealing your pregnancy completely. “Are you nervous, my beautiful Queen?”

The full force of the word Queen hits you all at once. The former King Enji is dead, and your husband will take his place. You will be Queen, and your baby, whether son or daughter, will be the heir to the throne of the Todoroki Empire.

“Yes, I’m very nervous,” you admit quietly. “I didn’t expect this to happen so quickly. You inheriting the throne, I mean.”

Oh? I certainly expected it.” Shouto gives a deep chuckle that turns dark when he utters the next words. “Nobody else did, however. I made sure of that.”

A cold rush of emotion hits you all at once. You don’t want to believe it, you truly don’t. But it confirms what you already know, deep in your heart. Shouto is the one who orchestrated the king’s death. His own father’s death. Your understanding must be written plain as day across your face, because he’s smirking at you when you glance over.

“You know, he intended to pass a law that stated he could annul a marriage, if it were proven to be illegitimate,” he says conversationally. “I couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let his hatred blind him into ruining the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you so much, and our baby.”

It feels like your heart jumps up into your throat, beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. You should feel horrified, as this means that it’s your fault the king is dead. But as you look into his eyes, you don’t just see the man who killed his father to inherit the throne. You also see the man who wanted to make the love of his life his Queen, and his child the heir.

You can’t bring yourself to hate him for it. Despite everything that he’s done, you love him too, and you love the child still growing inside you.

So when Shouto reaches his hand out to you in order to lead you into the throne room, you take it without hesitation. “Are you ready to become my Queen, love?”

“Yes, I’m ready. I love you too, Shouto.” And as you say those words and begin to walk into the coronation hand in hand, you finally feel the cage fully close behind you, trapping you forever.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @burnedbyshoto, @thewheezingwyvern, @animewh0re-blog, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @marlowewrites, @redbeanteax, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @hisoknen, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @league-of-thots, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @hoefortodo, @mhafanfics19, @daringbanshee, @otaku-explosion, @hellomary16, @vanillaicebaby, @theravencawsatmidnight, @universaltys, @simixchan, @crackhead1-800, @acehyacinth, @ererokii, @la-lay, @hadesnewpersephone, @engel-hageshii

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drxwsyni · 3 years

Text

doubts and desires︱albedo x f!reader

summary: letting go of the past is hard, but losing what you have now would be harder. leaving albedo is neither something you can do, or something you really want, it’s simply taken you a while to understand that. word count: 2k warnings: implied dubcon, stockholm syndrome, past kidnapping

Even with how Albedo had bundled you up in a hat, scarf, gloves, and coat―it still failed to ward off the chill that seemingly sucked the warmth right from your body. Yet you said nothing about it, the unwanted attention it would draw from him inevitable if you made your discomfort known. And, you were almost certain he would drag you back to the cabin if he knew how the cold was treating you.

You didn’t enjoy the biting temperatures, but you didn’t want leave. Not when it’s been so long since you descended the mountain, that you barely even remember the feeling of snowfall against your skin.

The whole situation he’s placed you in is really quite foreign―confusing.

In how he’s letting you accompany him in his research, not far from his―your home. A safe distance, so to speak. Or that’s what he said, at least.

You realized that the way he spoke of this outing, how it’d just be the two of you, and that you wouldn’t venture very far; they were words of comfort. Not said to reassure himself that things would go smoothly, but to calm the look of trepidation in your eyes from the mere suggestion of going outside.

Now, seeing Albedo’s nonchalant demeanour while he studies the petrification of a fallen tree, it puts your mind at ease. Sure, if you look closely you’ll be able to see the way his eyes flicker to your form every few seconds or so, making sure you were right where he left you, but generally the alchemist is calm.

It makes you calm, for a moment it feels like you’re able to settle down and appreciate the intricate beauty of the snow swept mountain you stand upon. Best to do so now, knowing it wouldn’t be long until he would lead you home, sheltered safely away from the danger of the mountain’s climate.

“Oh―I didn’t know you were to be researching today, Albedo sir.”

With your back turned to the newly appeared stranger behind you, the cold that had seeped into your bones no longer posed as the only thing holding you in place―it was also now an icy fear.

You watched unmoving from your spot as Albedo gave pause, a hint of contemplation flashing across his face before standing.

“Timaeus. I thought you were studying back in the city.”

The man, who you had yet to properly address, responded with a somewhat nervous laugh.

“Yes, well I was, but it led me to do my own research out in the field…”

Always in a strangely graceful manner, Albedo dusted off his pants and straightened his jacket. A look of unashamed disinterest painted his expression as Timaeus rambled on about his findings.

Truly, you don’t recall Albedo ever showing such emotions with you―a detail not necessarily heartwarming, but still reassuring in an indescribable way.

Perhaps it was due to you being so sure that he’d rid himself of you when you no longer proved useful. Which made the swirling of affection and enamour in his eyes when he gazed upon you settle your nerves, even in just the slightest.

“...which I unfortunately have yet to procure. But―ah, I’ve gotten ahead of myself again. My apologies, how is your research coming along. And...who might you be?”

If Albedo recognized the look of severe anxiety flashing across your face, he paid no mind. Instead giving you a small, somewhat warm smile. As if to say, “Go ahead.”

The few seconds that passed were done in silence, you desperately trying to read Albedo’s face for ulterior motives, and the man behind you shuffling awkwardly in place while he waited for a response.

By some miracle, your body moved on autopilot, turning around to finally acknowledge the cause of your newfound distress. Only, you couldn’t even look him in the face.

Your mouth was dry, mind foggy and unable to think of a response that was anywhere near being coherent.

“...I―uh…”

“This is my new assistant. Please do forgive her, she’s quite shy.”

A shaky breath escaped your rigid body at the sound of Albedo’s voice, and the feeling of his hand resting gently upon the small of your back.

The blatant lie that only you and him recognized echoed inside your head.

Timaeus had no clue who you were, or what you meant to Albedo. But if he did know, you wondered what he would do.

“...Ah, it’s strange we’ve never met before.”

You could tell without looking that Timaeus was studying your form. With the way his tone shifted to something a little more unsettled, a pit grew in your stomach knowing how he had picked up on your questionable nervousness.

The hand resting on your back felt a little more heavy.

Albedo showed no signs of botherment, “That’s likely because she’s not from here.”

For some ungodly reason, the less experienced alchemist took this as an opportunity. “Oh, if that’s the case then we should show her around. Sucrose could use someone like herself to―”

“Actually, we were just leaving. I’m afraid I’ve kept her out in the cold too long, and descending the mountain any further is quite a reckless task in this weather―” His head turned to look at you, no longer addressing his student, “―right?”

If Timaeus was told of what his teacher had done to you, would he help? Even if he looks up to Albedo, even if everyone does, surely they would step in.

Only, the issue remained that first you’d have to prove to them you were in danger.

...And really, you weren’t. Not anymore.

The tender bruises around your wrists and ankles had healed long ago. Your health was in near perfect condition, what with how Albedo saw to it that you never did anything to put it at risk. A single and quick glance would show that you were so pristinely taken care of, complexion shining now that you no longer spent nights sleepless from fear.

What were you to even say?

Moreso, it remained true that you didn’t quite want to say anything.

Timaeus wouldn’t believe your truth, and Albedo would likely spin the scenario so that your words weren’t reliable anyways.

It dawned on you that Albedo knew this fact well, why else would he bring you with him if he wouldn’t still be entirely in control of the situation?

A simple movement, his hand drifted to your hip and gripped it firmly, urging.

Your voice, barely a whisper met his ears.

“...Of course…”

That was all he needed, sending an impatient, yet still neutral glance towards Timaeus, the smallest hint of self-satisfaction lingering in it.

His student took the hint.

_____

“I have to say, bringing you with me was quite...productive.”

After dinner, Albedo has you keep him company in his study. You, occupied with a book in a chair across from his desk, while he goes over his findings from the day’s outing.

“Research wise, I was able to study you in a foreign situation.” He continued, conversation one-sided, “The results were to my liking…”

Although construed in his ever sophisticated manner, his words told you that you did something right. He was proud, and that notion made the swell of a strange warmth in your heart grow.

The alchemist’s gaze remained downcasted at the papers strewn about in front of him while he spoke. “...I suppose you should be rewarded for such good behaviour.”

Your eyes flitted up, the story on your lap abandoned completely.

Albedo has never spoken of such a thing, not once entertaining the idea of rewards when he saw no reason to ever extend such gratitude. Even after all this time.

He must be especially pleased, you thought.

Perhaps, enough to grant you back even a small semblance of independence...that would most certainly be your wish.

You’d long grown used to his suffocating personality, the intense interest he paid you often resulting in little to no alone time. Albedo made sure you stayed in eyeshot, and in those inevitable times he needed to leave, he made them quick, and you were to be safely tucked away in the bedroom, door locked from the outside. There wasn’t a single detail he missed, no stone left unturned when trying to improve your security.

Unfortunately for you, it left little autonomy.

Just the smallest taste of self-reliance would be fine. You’d love to cook a nice meal, like the ones you used to make. Or perhaps to pick your own outfit one morning, something more your style than the things he put together for you. Any break from his constant guidance, no matter what shape or form, you’d gladly take―

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up then, I’ll meet you upstairs soon.”

Albedo neglected to look up as he spoke, and so he missed how the glimmer of anticipation in your eyes faded away. The way your shoulders dropped slightly, the look of disappointment flashing across your features in understanding of his words.

What he had planned, it was a reward...of sorts.

An excuse, as far as you saw it.

Albedo was known for testing the limits of living beings after all, and in certain ways, such studies extended to how he treats you. It’s a win win for him―he thinks it’s a reward, since he knows he can make you feel good, and doing so just shows him all those little things he can’t learn through idle observation. What makes you squirm or shy away with innocent embarrassment―information just as important as everything else he knows about you.

It doesn’t dissuade Albedo when he finally glances up to see what his offer has done, though the sight does make him feel as though he’s deceived you.

Still, he remains unapologetic. “While you gave me some good insight on how far you’ve...adjusted, I still can’t completely trust you. This merely turned out to be a good opportunity for satisfying your other needs―nothing more.”

Flipping open a nearby textbook, Albedo conveys wordlessly, a difficult habit of his, that the conversation has ended.

You, however, have yet to heed his words. Still seated, the once flickering of hope subsiding with each passing second. Call it grief, but you were sincerely expecting a different outcome. Though, knowing Albedo, and his constant need to grow more knowledgeable, you should’ve seen this coming.

“...I’d rather not have to force your compliance tonight. So, please―” He gestured towards the door with a wave of his hand, focus trained and brows barely knitted while he skims over his readings on the desk.

Honestly speaking, you once thought Albedo was a deeply confusing man. So too was the life he’d meticulously prepared, and swiftly forced you into. Yet, looking back, things may have been more simple than you once perceived.

Your only real job is to exist and comply. And you both know you’re not going anywhere, not going to say no. Especially now, given how effortless it feels to fall into routine, going through the motions of his request and carrying yourself upstairs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s too late for you, what feels like an eternity spent at Albedo’s side having just about rendered your fighting spirit useless. It’s been long since replaced with what you’re coming to know as a certain fondness. You want to see the compassion in his eyes that’s sparked by your willing compliance.

It was a single, tangible goal. Not complex and unobtainable like those tasks of your past life. Attempts at obtaining those desires are futile, when today's events proved you genuinely no longer want them anymore.

It’s much easier to make Albedo proud. You don’t realize that you do it everyday, and that he’s just poor at conveying his own emotions...

Drawing yourself a bath, you wash away past doubts, settling with what your life has turned into.

Distantly, you hear Albedo make his way up the stairs and towards your bedroom. You like knowing what’s to come, which is always something you’ll have with him. You can’t say the same if you leave, and so you finally resolve that you never will.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere x you #albedo x you #tw dubcon

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sparkledfirecracker · 3 years

Text

Sunny Fall Out

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , again congrats on reaching 5K 😊!

Title: Sunny Fall Out

Pairing: Frank Adler x Female Reader

Challenge: Frank Adler / Babysitting Mary

Warning: Swearing and fluff

My blog is an 18+ only zone, minors do not interact. Don’t let the fluff fool you.

A/N: My second entry for Synt’s 5K follower challenge. This fluff entered my brain while working on this dark filthy twisted mobster story. Took a break to write up this fluffy drabble for the lovely anon who requested this for the challenge. Lightly proofread, so all mistakes are my own. ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard found on Pinterest, credit to the respectful owners!

How it started:

Frank Adler, your next door neighbour, with his complicated character. He was your weakness, his toned physique, his hard working ethic and his devotion to Mary. Exhaustion had overtaken your body when Frank ambushed you. There he had stood; practically begging you to watch Mary for a couple of hours. Roberta being out for the day and he had no-one else to turn to.

You loved that little girl and wouldn’t — nor couldn’t — say no to an opportunity to watch her. Even when you were exhausted and all you wanted to do was catch up on some much needed sleep.

Hours had been filled with chatter, pillow fort building and currently; watching a movie allowing you to doze off. It hadn’t been long when your nap was interrupted, the snuggled up girl moving with impatience.

“How about we paint some nails?” You croak

“YES!” An exciting peep from the small human. “What colour?”

“We can check, there is tons of different shades.” You smiled, getting up and grabbing your keys out of your bag. “I’ll be right back, don’t burn down the house, okay?”

“I won’t.” A mini promise before you hurried next door.

Only briefly getting used to the comfort of your home. You grabbed the small basket with nail polishes and remover. Running back and settling back down in the homemade fort. It hadn’t taken you long to decide on a colour, pink with a glittery shimmer.

“Mary, sit still.” You chirped firming your hold.

“You’re tickling me.” The foot in your hand tried to wriggle out of your grasp. Loud giggles erupting from the small body on your opposite.

“If you keep this up you’ll have more nail polish on your skin than the actual toenails.” You giggle, hearing the door open and keys being tossed on the table with a loud thud.

Frank leaned his hands down on the table. He looked like he had a rough day with whatever he had to do.

“We’re painting toenails.” Mary gleamed showing him the foot we were working on.

“Are you serious?” He sounded aggravated. Mary’s face dropped at Franks annoyed words. Assuming she’d experienced a minor outburst from him before. You couldn’t get a good read on him and opted for the immediate apology.

“Sorry, I thought it might be okay, since it’s only her toenails -- they can be hidden.” Screwing the brush back on the bottle. “I should have asked first.”

“You should have indeed.” He growled

“Mary come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” The disappointed pout on her pale face made your heart sink. Getting up and holding your hand out for her.

“Thanks for watching her, but I didn’t expect to come back to all this girly nonsense and fucking mess.” Frank grumbled. His impatience growing when you weren’t moving fast enough “Just leave it and get out already.” His annoyance had softened when he spoke the harsh words, too late for an apology now.

“Shut up Frank, I thought it was a nice gesture.” Dropping Mary’s hand and pushing past Frank’s body. You turned around to look at him. “You just didn’t have to be a dick about it.” Slamming the door on your way out.

Large steps taken to your house next door, balled fists by your side while you mumbled angrily to yourself. Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall from being exhausted and emotional, clearly the lack of sleep coursing your body. A squeal escaped when you were tugged -- a little too roughly -- on your arm, making you spin around. Frank!

“Leave me alone, you ignorant prick.” You tried breaking free from his grasp, hitting his arm with your free hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” You spat tears now streaming down your cheeks from the overwhelming tiredness consuming your body.

“It’ll have to do”

“It won’t and you know what,” You took in a sharp breath “You’re such an asshole you know that? I did something nice for Mary and here you come, barging in and being all rude and taking your shitty mood out on me. She looked devastated about having to take off some innocent nail polish. I did you a favour when you practically begged me to babysit her. It is just nail polish, Frank, not a full blown makeover to become the next pageant queen of the state…”

The anger unleashed onto him had made you feel slightly better. Before you could speak two large hands had pulled you in and enveloped your lips harshly. The shock made time stand still and then your thoughts recollected themselves at what was happening. Trying to push him off.

“I am really sorry,” Frank looks down at you taking in your features, his cheeks blushed. “I shouldn’t have taken out my rough day on you, it’s just -- it’s just Evelyn making life difficult for a second time ‘round”

You knew his mother was ruthless when it came to Mary. He had told you some small stuff, but knew their relationship was complicated. You’d seen her once and she made shivers run down your spine. She didn’t look like a pleasant person to be around.

Your face softened at his explanation “You want to talk about it over a couple of beers?”

“No, I don’t”

“You don’t want beer? I am truly shocked.” You feigned a gasp, clutching your chest in shocked surprise.

“I want the beer; I don’t want to talk -- I want to make it up to you.”

“For what exactly, Frank?”

“Being an asshole, can I persuade you with an offer of beer and pizza?” It wasn’t really a question, but it was a nice sincere suggestion.

You contemplated for a moment, you grabbed his face and risen to your toes. Pulling him down in your cradled grip and pressing your lips gently to his.

“Does this mean she can paint my nails again?” Mary shouted from the door. Breaking away from the kiss, Frank let’s out a grunt and you both turn your head towards the blonde girl grinning widely in the opening.

“MARY! Get inside”

“Play nice asshole.” With a giggle you slapped his chest playfully.

How’s it going – 6 months later

Your sundress clung to your body, yelping at the cold water from the exploded water balloon. You’re quick to grab the hose holding it in Mary’s direction, joyful shrieks filling the air.

“STOP! STOP!” She yelled, trying to fight her way towards you.

“No, you started it, you’ll finish it.” You laughed continuing to pour the cold water on her.

She fell down and let out a frustrated sob. You initially thought she’d gotten hurt, but when you reached her she full blown sprayed you with her water gun.

“That’s cheating.” You protested, you turn your head at the large grumble from the familiar truck you had been waiting to see. Mischief coursing through your body and you look down at Mary who expresses the same delight as you. “Let’s get Frank.”

“YES!!!” The exhilaration clearly visibly, jumping up and down.

Hiding around the corner you watch Frank approach the house, unknowingly, scanning through the mail. Mary runs up to him with her water gun and you throw some water balloons his way. Hitting him on his head and arm.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!” Frank growled looking at the both of you giggling. “This is how I get welcomed home?” He opened the door and tossed the mail inside, before returning with a wide grin, grabbing a filled bucket by the door and running your way.

“RUN” Mary shrieked heading off, Frank followed in her tracks. Grabbing her by the arm and locking her between his legs. Her frantic movements were no match to his firm hold and she screeches when the cold water is poured down on her.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction. Frank whispers something in her ear and she nods. He lets her go and he waves at you, raising your eyebrow in confusion, but soon realize that Mary is running your way.

“You traitor.” You chuckle pointing towards Mary.

Running away quickly, sprinting around the house trying to dodge Mary. She launches her small body at you, hanging onto you like a Koala. It has clearly slowed you down and before you know it Frank catches you, securing you in his grasp. Mary let’s go and runs away.

“I missed you.” You muse giving him a quick peck on his lips, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I missed you too, but that cute look is not going to charm me.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back giving you a devilish look. “We’ve got other ways to deal with naughty girls like you.” With ease Frank lifts you over your shoulder, you slap his ass animatedly trying to get him to put you down.

#frank adler #frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #frank adler x female reader #frank adler x y/n #frank adler smut #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #lilos masterlist #synths5kfollowerchallenge #lilo writing

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halsinsbiggernaturals · 3 years

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Oops - SHOH fanfic

So, I am completely obsessed with @shepherds-of-haven and I read an ask a while ago about how in Lena's original story, Halek was the one who told Blade that his SO was pregnant. And I asked Lena what Trouble's reaction would be, and ended up deciding to write a short little drabble based around it! Except I added Mimir to be a little obvious, since I was afraid Trouble might not have gotten the implication otherwise...

Staring my OC Aerys--a battle mage who loves her idiot cowboy sniper--and set several years after the events of SHOH

It's a warm, lazy summer day, the heat sitting heavily in the air. Most Shepherds who don't have to be working have retired to enjoy some leisure time, and Trouble is no exception. He's elected to take a few minutes to himself under a tree in the yard--or more accurately, to himself and Halek, as he lounges next to the dozing man, charch in hand.

It's peaceful like this, smoke from the charch winding its way into the air, as lazy as the drowsing Hunter next to him. They often spend time together--if you can call it that--like this, neither speaking to the other. It works well for them, and is why Trouble is surprised that Halek is the one who breaks the languid silence.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl, yet?"

Trouble looks over, confusion etched on his face.

"What?"

"The baby. Do you know if it's a boy or girl, yet?"

"What baby?"

Halek opens one eye, turns to inspect Trouble's baffled expression, then quickly shuts it again.

"Never mind."

"Halek, what b--"

"It's a boy."

This proclamation was brought by the last person Trouble would have expected to wander over to their chat--Mimir, the odd Diviner that Trouble could rarely understand. Still, Aerys seemed to get along well enough with her, which meant that Trouble tried his best, as well.

Tried being the operative word, at the moment.

"What boy? What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing." Halek replies quickly.

"Your boy." Mirmir replies, almost as quickly, earning a wrathful look from Halek, which she ignores with the same serenity that she made the proclamation. "Do you not know about that yet?"

At the look on the Norm sniper's face, she smiles.

"Oh, you didn't."

Aerys, oblivious (for now) to any chaos happening outside of the lounge, is busy attempting to beat Chase at an arm wrestling match. It's a difficult task, not just because of the innate strength of the thief, but because Chase is always keen to employ underhanded tricks to ensure a win.

Next to them sits Blade, watching the two calmly, and waiting to challenge whoever wins. The Commander of the Shepherds observing the fight doesn't reduce any risk of dirty fighting, though--Blade would simply tell her that she should have caught it and mitigated the trick.

So Aerys is focused on the match, enough so that she doesn't even look up when Trouble barges into the lounge, breathing as heavily as if he'd run a marathon before showing up.

He's quick to catch her attention, however.

"YOU'RE PREGNANT?"

Now, Aerys generally believes herself to be an intelligent woman.

The look that she gives Trouble (slack jawed and eyes wide) is anything but.

"I'm wha--Ow!" Chase, much quicker to gather himself than Aerys, is quick to take advantage of her break in concentration, cheerfully slamming her fist into the table. The battlemage opens her mouth to protest, but by this time, Trouble has crossed the lounge and grabbed Aerys by the shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why in Hael did you tell Halek first?"

"I'm--I'm what--?" The pink-haired mage rises to her feet, desperately trying to piece together the ridiculous situation that has fallen at her feet. "Wait. Halek told you that I was pregnant?"

"Yeah! So--Why did you tell him first?"

"I--I haven't told Halek kak! Especially about--what do you mean, I'm pregnant?"

Trouble may not ever be accused of being a particularly bright man, but if he knew anything, he knew his wife. And after staring at her face, as bewildered as his own, it suddenly dawns on him.

"You didn't know?"

"It is said," Blade informs them, face stolid as he shoos the two of them a few feet away, that he may sit where she'd been, holding out his hand to Chase. "Hunters can tell these kinds of things. They can hear the heartbeats of those around them." He pauses meaningfully for a moment. "Even the smallest of hearts."

"Supposedly, they can also tell if you're lying or not." Chase supplies, a smug look on his face. "Terrifying, huh? Good thing Halek's too lazy for that." He hums for a moment. "Usually."

"Wait, so--" Aerys' hand goes to her forehead, desperately trying to keep up with the conversation. "--So Halek can hear if someone is pregnant, and he told you that I was..." Something clicks in her head, and Trouble flinches from the look in his wife’s eye. "And you thought I already knew? That I was hiding it from you? You think I'm gonna go around telling everyone else first?"

"Ow! Stop smacking me! I didn't--I thought you'd have known--"

"You think women just know these things!?"

"How was I supposed to know!?"

"And then you just busted in here and told me like this! I'm gonna kill you--"

"You can't kill me! Who'll be the baby's father?"

Aerys stops swatting at Trouble at this, and takes some time to contemplate the question, before pronouncing: "Blade."

"It would be my honor," Blade solemnly replies, face as serious as the grave, even as he pushes Chase's hand into the table.

"What? Hael no! No son of mine is gonna be named Dagger, or--Polearm, or something dumb--"

"--Dagger was the name of my--"

"--Your son!?--"

"--Cousin, actually--"

"--Oh yeah, Mimir said--"

"--MIMIR TOLD YOU THE GENDER--!?"

"Hey," Chase's voice rings out over the arguing couple (and Blade), silencing them as they turn to look at him. "Congratulations on the baby, you two." His face beams, even as he rubs his wrist, where Blade had just handily beat him. "I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you--" Aerys' reply is automatic, until her brain catches up with her ingrained manners, and she pauses, the entire conversation/argument finally catching up with her. If the look on Trouble's face was any indication, he was going through a similar revelation.

Chase and Blade calmly watch the couple as they start crying, hugging, and proclaiming their adoration for each other, a content smile on both the mens faces, before they turn to one another.

"That's sweet. Anyway, best out of three?"

"You're on."

#shepherds of haven #aerys wildegarde #ema writes a thing

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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 21, part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Reunions

All together in The Unclean Realm, The Yunmeng trio find a spot inside where they can sit down and have a proper Yanli-Wuxian reunion, while Jiang Cheng sits across the table watching them.

For years Jiang Cheng has been rejecting Wei Wuxian's free and easy affection; now Yanli might be the only person Wei Wuxian offers to hug until Wen Yuan comes into his life.

Jiang Cheng is really going through it. He'll do nearly anything for Yanli--except, uh, stay in the goddamn inn with her when she's sick and the Wens are hunting them--and what makes her happiest is Wei Wuxian. He's brought them together, and so he's happy, even though he's excluded from their dynamic. This absolutely fucking kills me.

Here Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian are sweetly pledging to always keep the trio together and put each other first. Neither of them will keep this promise.

Wei Wuxian will leave first, to take the Wens to the Burial Mounds. Jiang Yanli will leave second, staying in Lanling at Jin Zixuan's request instead of accompanying Jiang Cheng to retrieve Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng will be the last to let go.

(more after the cut)

Nie Huaisang comes literally running in, filled with joy at Wei Wuxian's return. When he goes to pat his shoulder Wei Wuxian flinches away.

I feel like something important is happening in this rapid sequence of glances and expressions between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang. NHS is startled, and WWX realizes he's shown something about himself that he didn't want to show. He glances at Jiang Cheng and back at NHS before laughing and covering his slip with a squeeze of NHS’s hand.

NHS switches from shocked to cheerful just as quickly, helping with the coverup. It’s like they have a quick mutual agreement, rooted in their history of shared shenanigans, to not point out that something is wrong.

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji is wandering around the grounds, having feelings. At this point it's presumably been at least a couple of weeks since their breakup fight.

He sees Wei Wuxian sitting contemplating his flute, and as he sees him he goes from sort of neutrally apprehensive to full on angry judging, complete with sword clenching.

Part of this may be that his feelings are hurt over their fight, but the larger issue is his distress over Wei Wuxian's apparent heretical cultivation. That, at any rate, is what's on his mind when he's selecting music, later in the episode, and when he's selecting flashbacks.

Party Time

Later, the Nies host an excruciating party to celebrate Wei Wuxian's slaughter of Wen Chao return. Jiang Yanli is sharing a table with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng is sharing a table with his crippling social anxiety.

Everyone starts grilling Wei Wuxian about his sword, because that's suddenly all anybody cares about even though Jiang Yanli, Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao, and probably plenty of other people don't carry swords most of the time.

Wei Wuxian says "after the Wens caught me, Wen Zhuliu crushed my core, so I can't use my sword any more, too bad so sad, can we change the subject?" And everyone is very understanding and admires his resiliency. HA HA HA HA HA. Of course he doesn't opt for that simple lie, but instead mopes audibly without saying anything.

Nie Huasiang tries to change the subject by asking how he killed Wen Chao. Apparently "I had a sexy ghost mostly flay him" isn't good party chat, though, so neither Wei Wuxian nor Jiang Cheng opts to tell the story.

Everyone lapses into awkward silence, all the more noticeable because there are no dancers, musicians, or entertainers of any kind at this event. OP has gone to audit-kickoff meetings that were more fun than cultivator banquets.

Moment of Clarity

While the awkwardness builds, we hear the sounds of the Song of Clarity. Lan Wangji is skipping the party, which is part of why Wei Wuxian is so mopey. But instead of sitting and stewing in his anger, Lan Wangji has shifted gears, and is starting to work on his "save Wei Wuxian's soul" plan.

This isn't the God-botherer version of soul saving, however. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian disagree about correct practice, but they both are still practitioners within the same spiritual system, and the majority of their beliefs are closely aligned.

Lan Wangji has powerful magic at his disposal, and now he's taking a step back from his plan of forcing persuading Wei Wuxian to give up heterodoxy, and instead he's preparing to use his magic to offset the consequences of Wei Wuxian's choice.

He still isn't ready to accept that choice, but he's working on it. This is a big moment for Lan Wangji's relationship with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji is a deeply, deeply uncompromising person, as well as being super bossy, and he’s taking his first steps toward supporting Wei Wuxian’s free agency.

Wei Wuxian leaves the party in the middle of Yao's toast, saying "I have to see you and your lover all over my tumblr dashboard but I am NOT going to listen to you talk!" He takes his wine to go roam around near Lan Wangji's quarters to pine and feel conflicted. Lan Wangji has thoughtfully set up a projection scrim to catch his shadow and make the pining easier.

Jiang Cheng comes looking for Wei Wuxian, partly to reprimand him for rudeness and partly to see what the hell is wrong with him. Jiang Cheng is trying very hard to be pleasant. He's bad at it, but he's trying.

Wei Wuxian is trying to be unpleasant and he's pretty good at it. He won't say why he isn't using his sword. He’s obviously super fucking depressed about it, calling his former self childish for liking to spar, and only smiling once during the whole exchange.

He finally tells Jiang Cheng that he will always want to do the opposite of what Jiang Cheng tells him. Jiang Cheng lets this go with an eyeroll.

(Point Break Quote Alert)

But actually this is a sign of trouble, right here in River City, with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for abandoning the Jiang Clan. Wei Wuxian has just told Jiang Cheng he has no intention of obeying him; not just about the sword, but in general. That's no way for a disciple to talk.

OP has nothing to say about this gif. OP watches gif over and over and over and over

Wei Wuxian ends the conversation by tapping Jiang Cheng's chest with his flute and then walking away. The (still nameless) flute has no problem with this - does it, like Subian, recognize Jiang Cheng as an extension of Wei Wuxian?

The next day, Wei Wuxian is chilling in his room, looking ungodly sexy in his bold slashed robe, holy frack. I mean, he is sex-on-toast at all times, but the cut of his post-burial-mounds combo is particularly heart-stopping when he decides to stick a knee or two out.

He's meditating and flashing back to being in the burial mounds, where he was also meditating. I admire his ability to fractally meditate about meditating.

Chenqing

He didn't put a sock on the doorknob, so Jiang Yanli comes in and startles him. He brandishes his flute at her before calming down. The flute definitely does not see her as an extension of Wei Wuxian, because when she touches it, it smokes and then knocks her out of the frame so fast it's comical.

Did they put her in a jerk vest for that shot?

Wei Wuxian hides the flute from her, freaked out by its behavior. She, however, is unfazed, and gives him the first & only affirmation he's gotten about his new cultivation path, and says the flute is "like Mother's Zidian." She kind of walks him through the whole "first class spiritual tool" concept, beaming with approval and telling him he must name the flute.

Jiang Yanli is hardcore Jiang Clan, seriously. Freedom and impossibility. You survived 3 months of mystery trauma and now you're all fucked up? We'll roll with it. You have a demon flute now? Rock on. You're going to use necromancy to beat the other clans in a group hunt? Gold star for you.

He names the flute Chenqing, which @hunxi-guilai translates and explains in depth over here.

Bichen

Lan Wangji has finished practicing the Song of Clarity, and regardless of whether it's had an effect on Wei Wuxian, he himself seems much calmer.

As Wei Wuxian contemplates Chenqing, Lan Wangji contemplates Bichen and remembers Wei Wuxian's assertions about resentful energy way back in Gusu summer school.

This time when he grips his sword, it's loosely, as if he's made some progress with his anger.

Soup

Jiang Yanli sits Wei Wuxian down for some soup, and talks to him about what's going on with him, saying he's changed. He insists he's fine and works very hard to be convincing.

She's not convinced but says she won't press him, and then abruptly shifts tone and works very hard to act like everything is fine. She leaves, taking a lot of soup with her, and Wei Wuxian remarks that it's unfair she is giving so much to Jiang Cheng. But of course, some of it is secretly for Jin Zixuan.

Everything isn't fine, as Wei Wuxian scream-meditates with resentful energy just rolling off of him. He's got some of the dark energy stored in the Yin sword in his bag of holding, but I get the impression that a lot of it is just stored in his body.

Club Ruohan

At some point in the episode we stop in to check on Wen Ruohan. He and his wind machine are mad that Wen Chao is dead.

Meanwhile, his interpretive dances with the Yin iron now turn his puppets into...Klingons? Sure, why not.

Literal Stand-Up Meeting

Jiang Cheng needs Wei Wuxian at games night a meeting and comes running to Jiang Yanli to find him. He is freaking out and she tells him to chill.

No matter what fuckery is going on in the world, Jiang Yanli is going to find herself a nice little outdoor table and she is going to sit her ass down and have some tea and civilized lady activity. Queen.

This shot of the meeting is composed so nicely. The blocking (placement of actors) in this scene encapsulates the familial dynamics, and I’ll talk about that as soon as I finish admiring Jiang Cheng’s proportions.

Here we have four clans represented by four family pairs around the game war table. The Jin cousins, despite their differing personalities, are side by side, matchy-matchy, in lockstep. Jin Zixuan lets Jin Zixun do the talking for him, so maintains his own rep as a reasonable guy.

The Nie brothers are even closer together, also in matching greys, Nie Huaisang giving all of his attention to his brother/clan leader. You can see his careful watching of his brother's temper...not fearful for himself, but fearful for Mingjue.

The Lan brothers have a growing distance between them; they are in different colors (which is pretty usual for them), and Lan Wangji is standing well away from his brother and the rest of the group. Partly this is his personality, but it's also symbolic of his growing distance from his brother and other proper cultivators. He's carrying WWX-related secrets, and he's wrestling with what he's learned.

While Nie Huaisang is looking at Mingjue, Lan Xichen is turning around to see what's up with his own volatile sibling.

Lastly you have Jiang Cheng, alone in the room, with his shidi nowhere to be found, and seriously feeling the heat because of his isolation.

He's alone in his purple, but the color value (lightness/darkness) of his robes exactly matches Xichen's.

And Xichen, bless him, makes a point of speaking to him respectfully as a fellow clan leader, gives him a path out of the "where is your brother" conversation, and is just generally his kind and helpful self with Jiang Cheng.

Next: Awkwardness Increases!

#the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #the untamed meta #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #restless rewatch the untamed #my gifs #canary3d-original

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wesimpforxiao · 3 years

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Inception: Chapter 1

Author’s Note: Welcome everyone to my Childe x Reader fanfiction! Decided to post the first (and only so far) chapter since I’m happy with it. Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!!!

Now where did Mr. Zhongli run off to? Wherever you'd end up, you'd miss the man by a hair. Running errands for Hu Tao was practically the equivalent to a wild goose chase. "Wait a second!" A sudden realization stopped you in your tracks, and a few customers that were buying kites held startled expressions from your yelp. "She's pranking me again, isn't she?!"

Zhongli was inspecting noticulous jade samples behind you when he heard a female voice yell to no one in particular. He turned to see you, completely deflated for reasons unknown to him. Shouldn't you be at the parlor overseeing your duties in the presence of Hu Tao? What were you doing out here? "What seems to be the matter, Reed?"

"ZHONGLI!" Another yelp, and this time the customers nearby became more annoyed. You spun on your heel and meet your coworker's gaze. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Um, Hu Tao wanted me to give you these," you promptly handed a small stack of slightly crumpled documents to him. "She said they were really important...?"

"Let me see..." Golden eyes turned their attention to the script with the utmost focus before he heaved a tiresome sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is...something the matter?" You could've sworn everything was in order...maybe it was possible that in your rush to find him, you had lost a paper or two without noticing?

"What is it exactly that Hu Tao instructed you to do?" His voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but it went unnoticed by you.

"She just told me to find you and give you the documents, and that you'd know what to do with them. And she also told me not to look at them. Why?"

Another sigh, and the documents were handed back to you. "I apologize, but it appears that you've fallen victim to her...childish antics yet again."

He was right. The documents were nothing more than a bunch of gibberish and what looked like to be a horrible attempt to draw Zhongli on one of the papers next to one scribble that was labelled 'doodoo.' "You've got to be joking." The scowl on your face was enough to get Zhongli to clear his throat in an effort to dissuade you from your anger. You were an incredibly nice and patient person, but Zhongli's seen you angry once before. It was not something he'd like to see again, and with every passing prank, you got closer and closer to snapping at your boss.

"My apologies," he sympathized. He couldn't exactly keep up with the parlor director's childish ways either, after all.

That was three hours of my day. You crumpled the papers in your hands before tossing them in the trash. "Sorry to bother you Zhongli, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."

You took the long way back to the funeral parlor, making a point to walk across the docs that shouldered the sea. It was well-deserved, you thought, since Hu Tao was constantly testing your patience and you had yet to snap. If she really needed you today, she wouldn't have sent you on a needless hunt to deliver unnecessary documents. So what if you showed up a little late now? It was her doing!

The docks were quiet with the occasional pigeons and seagulls cooing as they searched for their next meal--or their next pooping target. A few pigeons scattered into the wind once you reached a railing that overlooked one of the merchant ships.

It had been quite some time since your mother brought you across the sea to escape the influences of the Fatui in Snezhnaya--it had to be at least a decade by now, actually. The Fatui that were stationed near your hometown were a reckless, malicious bunch, and weren't even kind to their own people despite their cohort existing to serve the people.

'To serve the people' was more like 'to serve the Tsaritsa.' Neglect against her own people soon became a mutual feeling in your town. She let her Fatui rats run about with no punishment for falling out of line...the audacity! A god is supposed to protect and nurture their people, not toss them aside or save them to be used.

The glimmering of the ocean below the deck only briefly dragged out out of your memories before you fell into them much like a wave washes over the beach.

You still remembered the day when your best friend went missing, and when he finally turned up ragged and dirty a few days later. He never spoke of what happened, but it wouldn't surprise you if it had anything to do with the agents in your town. He changed from a hesitant boy to a rambunctious, feisty kid--and the arrogance was insanely annoying. But just as you tried to get closer to him, your mom decided his mysterious circumstances were what she needed to get herself and you out of Snezhnaya.

"I don't know what happened to you, Ajax, but I hope you're okay."

...........................................

Today's such a beautiful day! You stretched your arms with content to get the aches of walking all morning out of your shoulders. Slouching was a horrible habit of yours. But no matter, it was time to celebrate! Hu Tao finally cut you loose from her list of unfortunate victims of her shenanigans, instead setting her sights on some exorcist that went by the name 'Chongyun.' Since he wasn't related to the parlor's services--at least, not that you were aware--you didn't know him personally.

That poor soul has no idea what's coming to him, you think as you absently scan the papers in your hands that the parlor director had given you to give to Zhongli before the day's end--you had learned your lesson from last time, and inspected each stack she'd give you. But as bad as I feel for him, I can't complain since I'm finally scot-free of her.

You made your way toward Liuli Pavilion, where Zhongli had informed you earlier this morning that he'd be conducting a meeting with one of the parlor's biggest funders. There he is now! And...sitting alone?

"Mr. Zhongli?" Your quiet interruption shifted his attention from the vivid storytelling of the storyteller to you. "Did you have your meeting yet?"

"No, he should be arriving shortly," the consultant answered and placed his teacup down. "What did you need me for?"

"Hu Tao sent me on another errand, er, a valid one this time. I guess one of our customers was wondering what recommendations you had regarding these?" A quick hand-off of the documents pertaining the names of precious stones, and Zhongli shut out the story of the ventures of Rex Lapis and his former companion, Azhdaha.

Your eyes left Zhongli for a moment and watched the storyteller's movements. I've heard this one before. Azhdaha was reprimanded for turning against humanity, wasn't he? I wonder what that was like for our god. To be betrayed by a close friend-

"I see. Noticulous jade would be the best option considering it's vibrant purple tones, but the beauty of cor lapis when significantly refined to its utmost potential is a valid approach for the ceremony as well. Why don't we purchase both? You and I can inspect the nearby stores tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking if his answer is always 'We'll take them all,' your lips twitched from restraining a laugh and you returned your sights on the consultant. "Alright, let's do that."

"Mr. Zhongli! It's great to see you," an unfamiliar man approached the table with a friendly smile. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long." The confidence that radiated from his stride was enough to make you shrivel up on yourself. That, and the afternoon light that bounced off of his bright gray clothes half-blinded you.

"Not at all. Please take a seat. Reed, why don't you join us?" Zhongli was aware of your intense opinions of the Fatui, but then again, who in Liyue didn't have a problem with the organization at the moment? Especially after their most recent incident with Osial...and the issue himself was sitting right across the table. Perhaps meeting such a dangerous individual would dissuade you from pursuing that nighttime hobby of yours...

"Oh, I don't want to intrude. Isn't this a private meeting?"

"I don't mind," said the red-headed stranger.

Zhongli gestured toward the third chair at the table, and you hesitantly obeyed. A few minutes couldn't hurt. You used the moment to get you situated and check out the guy to your left. He didn't seem familiar, but he had this air about him that was...distinct, if that made any sense. Familiar yet unfamiliar. For someone being labelled as one of the most prominent sponsors of the funeral parlor, he didn't button his jacket properly, and a portion of his abdomen was visible while a hydro vision sat comfortably attached to his beltloop. Or perhaps that was the way the jacket was designed?

Why am I even contemplating this? You peeled your eyes away from his torso in a hurry, and they settled on your hands in your lap. Way to make a first impression.

"Reed, I would like to introduce you to Ma-"

"Ajax!" Childe's voice overtook Zhongli's introduction. "I go by Ajax, it's nice to meet you." He held out a gloved hand for you to shake. He didn't think it would be possible to ever see you again, not after your mom took you across the sea, so he spat out a lie without thinking. Then again, even as a child you hated the Fatui--rightfully so-- so it wouldn't have been a good idea to introduce himself as the very harbinger that almost drowned Liyue. Childe thought he had recognized you by your hair and the way you walked, but it was so long ago, and the memory of you had long since faded into a blurry image. But 'Reed'...It couldn't be some coincidence that he met you here.

And by your reaction, he could say his intuition served him right. "A-Ajax?" You sat up taller than before, not quite comprehending the situation at first. The name, the face, those blue eyes--it had to be him. "Ajax from Snezhnaya?"

"I would hope I'm the only Ajax you know." Childe shot you a friendly smile, but some smidge of jealousy lie in the depths of his otherwise vacant gaze. Perhaps it could even be considered threatening, or possessive. He was the only Ajax you knew, right?

"Oh thank the archons you're alright," you released the breath you didn't know you were holding in. It was all you managed to get out before remembering that a certain party was sitting to your right. "O-Oh! Zhongli! We knew each other before I emigrated to Liyue-"

"Childhood friends," the harbinger grinned slightly as he met the consultant's confused yet stern gaze. Something deadly flashed in his eyes, daring Zhongli to speak up and correct his own introduction.

Zhongli wasn't anywhere near afraid or intimidated by Childe, but despite this he did not reveal Childe's true identity. Perhaps there was a reason the harbinger was posing as his younger self, like he was protecting the image of the perfect older brother for you just as he did with Teucer.

That, and Zhongli had vowed not to meddle in these types of matters just as he neglected to tell Childe he was the geo archon. It was not his business if Childe chose to deceive you just as he deceived Childe, but if the harbinger posed a threat to you or anyone in Liyue again...Let's just say the passive Zhongli would put his foot down.

"I see," said Zhongli with a thoughtful gaze as he picked up his half-full cup of tea. "May I inquire as how you two met?"

"Well," you leaned back in your seat and stared at one of the passing clouds as you attempted to recollect old memories. "I don't remember exactly, but we ran into each other at one of the local markets that stood between our hometowns. You should've seen him back then Zhongli, he was a nervous reck!"

Childe visibly grimaced at your bluntness, but Zhongli let out a low chuckle. "Is that so?" This earned a glare from the harbinger.

"Yes! He was always second-guessing himself. I was always the one wearing the pants in the friendship whenever we got to see each other! And then..." Your expression darkened as you remembered his disappearance, and his concerning change of attitude when he returned. But just as quickly as the distasteful memory showed on your face, it was tossed away with a shake of the head. "You know, there was one time where he had gotten in trouble with one of the local fisherman because he--"

"Now, now!" Childe interrupted with a slightly aggressive--no, embarrassed--tone. "I don't think Mr. Zhongli would be interested in--"

"On the contrary, I would be more than delighted to hear of Ajax's childhood stories," Zhongli sipped away at his tea, making a point to emphasize the new name while staring straight Childe.

"Aw, you embarrassed?" Childe wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face for noticing. He thought he was great at hiding his emotions, but with your surprise appearance, he was a bit more than caught off guard. You covered your mouth and leaned toward Zhongli while whispering, "I'll tell you later, promise!"

Childe let out something of a strangled chuckle that made the corner of Zhongli's lips twitch upward. "So, what have you been up to all this time?"

"Well, I've been working at the funeral parlor with Zhongli for the past year or so," you leaned back with a thoughtful gaze. "I live by myself now; mom died a few years ago. Oh, I've been training since I got here, too. You can't trust the Fatui anywhere in Teyvat. That, and anyone that roams around late at night. Better safe than sorry."

"So you fight?" Childe's eyes lit up like a fire was lit, and you smile turned into a frown.

"Don't tell me you're still..." But with his slightly oblivious tilt of the head, you couldn't bring yourself to bring up that portion of your history. Not yet. "If need be, yes." The best option was to change the subject, especially to spare Zhongli of what could possibly turn into an argument. "How did you find yourself in Liyue?"

"I..." A glance was sent briefly in Zhongli's direction, but he purposely ignored it. "I'm a toy seller these days."

"Augh--" A sputtered cough came from Zhongli, and he dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief. "Ahem...Apologies, it appears I choked on a bit of tea."

After an awkward laugh escaped Childe, you turned back to him. "A toy seller? You?" Was it relief you felt, or a feeling of on-edge? Perhaps it'd be better if he turned out nice enough to become a toy seller, but with the way you two left things in Snezhnaya, you'd thought it be more likely that he'd end up arrested. Or join the Fatui. Or just anything involving violence. Not sure of what to make of his words, you snapped to Zhongli. "Wait, I thought you had a meeting with one of the benefactors of the funeral parlor? Why would a toy seller be involved with us?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself," Zhongli set his empty teacup aside and faced Childe directly to bait him. "You've never told me the story. How did you find yourself involved with the parlor, Ajax?"

The hint of a smirk on the consultant's lips made the harbinger's blood boil even though he managed to keep his façade of a smile plastered on his face. "Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details, it's an uninteresting story!"

"Tell me," you begged, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "It might not be boring to us!"

"Yes, do tell," Zhongli encouraged.

You're enjoying this too much, Mr. Zhongli. Childe did his best to hide his annoyance under his signature grin.

........................................

The sigh that escaped the harbinger once you left to finish your duties at the parlor prompted Zhongli to raise a brow at him. "Shut up," Childe muttered without sparing a glance his way. He knew you were hateful of the Fatui; that's most likely why he lied without a second thought, but as to why he'd bother doing so since you weren't close anymore was unknown.

At least, to Childe it was. Zhongli had already figured it out by the lengthy conversation of Childe's extensive toy seller lie. "You two were more than 'close' back in Snezhnaya, were you not?"

"Don't overthink it Zhongli, we were only friends."

"And yet you wear your Harbinger status proudly on your sleeve."

"What're you implying?" Childe, growing impatient and bored of the conversation, shifted in his seat. You had left as their meals were served, so to his utmost horror, he now realized he was given chopsticks to use for his dish.

"You also don't like deceiving others unlike your fellow harbingers."

A disgusted scoff left his lips as he lifted his chopsticks. "...You think I, Tartaglia, am in love with a childhood friend? My my my, Mr. Zhongli, it seems you've finally lost your marbles after living six thousand years. Perhaps living among humans has taken a toll on your wisdom."

"There are several reasons for which a person would lie." Zhongli lowered his voice as the storyteller finished his monologue. "The only one that would make sense after observing you for so long would be infatuation."

Childe had tuned him out by now, concentrating with furrowed brows on holding his dumplings correctly in-between his chopsticks. But they were too heavy, what with his hand shaking the utensils, and they fell back on the plate with a wet plop. Curse these stupid- Childe nearly threw them at the building to his left, but restrained himself before he could lose to his frustrations. Instead he used one chopstick to stab the dumpling and in an exasperated huff, shoved it into his mouth.

"So, what is the real reason you're back in Liyue?" Zhongli set his third cup of tea aside after watching the pitiful struggle before him. "It had sounded like you'd be in Snezhnaya for quite some time before returning, yet here you are only months after Osial."

"Oh," Childe sat up, only now remembering that what he had told you earlier was a drastic lie. "I've been meaning to ask you about the matters I'm dealing with. The Fatui here are fed-up with some...vigilante that interferes with their work here. Whoever's at fault is clearly an amateur, but my subordinates here are apparently too incompetent to catch them. They're stealing important documents from the Northland Bank, setting traps on the roadsides, and even breaking into our apartments to steal the agents' uniforms."

Zhongli cradled his chin in his hand while in deep thought. He's heard of such a person; they often came to the parlor in the early morning hours to avoid getting caught since their living quarters were on the opposite side of town--he caught them more than once, out of breath, and dressed in black.

"--Basically the men are agitated at this point and threatening to leave their posts, and everyone's on edge because of another matter that may be related. A few of our agents have gone missing with no trace, so I am here to locate them. Whoever this vigilante is might know something; both occurrences started approximately three months ago." Childe grabbed his last dumpling and ate it before leaning back in his seat. "So, given that you are the wisest man in Liyue, I decided to come to you for advice. Would you happen to know of anyone or anything involved?"

"Yes," Zhongli hummed, eyes downcast and settled on his folded hands. "It's possible I hold information valuable to your search."

Childe's pupils lit up in delight. "Oh? Do enlighten me."

"But first, the vigilante is not related to your missing men," he took another sip of tea, lost in thought. "And they are more or less an amateur seeking to disrupt Fatui operations, but they don't usually harm your agents--"

"That's inaccurate to say, Zhongli. Last week three of my guys came back with broken noses or fractured arms."

--that I know of." A pointed glare just made the harbinger lean forward against the table.

"You know who I'm searching for."

"Perhaps."

"Then spill."

"Am I really obligated to tell you based on your earlier behavior?"

"Mr. Zhongli, this person poses a serious threat to the health of my men, and potentially their lives. Do you not care that human lives are at stake because of this...this...killer?"

Says the man who tried to drown my country. "As usual, you are making brash assumptions. They are not a killer, and they are not dangerous unless backed into a corner."

Childe was growing sick of beating around the bush, so he deadpanned. "Zhongli."

The former archon let out a low sigh before meeting his gaze. "As long as you remember what I just said, then I suppose I'll let you know. The person you're searching for is the same person you lied to at this table."

#inception #wesimpforxiao #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe #childe genshin impact #genshin impact

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mnzknight96 · 3 years

Text

Marinette found herself enjoying a sketch of a skirt and blouse based off of Rena Rouge that she planned to give to Alya once she finished it. She was so engrossed in her project that she hadn’t noticed Plagg in her room until he asked for cheese.

Plagg: Hey Pigtails, got any cheese around here? Preferably some Camembert.

At the sound of his voice Marinette was so startled she fell backwards from her chair with a loud thud. Marinette gave herself a few moments to just lie there contemplating how this became her life. Her contemplation was cut short when she heard her papa from the bottom of the stairs.

Tom: Marinette, sweetheart, are you okay?

Marinette: Just fine papa, I just fell off my chair trying to do something.

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she had to admit to being a klutz once again. She heard her papa chuckle.

Tom: Hehe please be careful, okay?

Marinette: Okay papa.

Once she heard her papa’s retreating steps she released a sigh she was holding. With that dealt with she turned her glare to the offender of today’s embarrassment. Plagg looked at her with a facade of innocence that she could see right through. Chat has told her plenty of stories of how Plagg could be a little shit.

Marinette: Why are you here Plagg?

It peeved her when he knew she was mad at him yet decided to ignore her by focusing on something shiny that had caught his attention.

Marinette: Plagg focus on me, why are you here?

Plagg’s face turned pensive for a bit almost as if he had forgotten the reason for his visit which did not help Marinette’s mood at all. After a few moments his face lit up, remembering his purpose for coming.

Plagg: I am here to warn you Pigtails. I can no longer hold back Chat’s powers.

The look of confusion on her face may have betrayed that she had absolutely no idea about what he was talking about. This time it was Plaggs turn to sigh.

Plagg: That old man really didn’t get a chance to tell you anything did he. I almost feel bad for you if it wasn’t for the fact that he completely ignored my kid.

That last part he whispered but she could hear him nonetheless.

Plagg: Before I explain, Tikki could you come out real quick.

Tikki flew out from the spot Marinette had made for her.

Tikki: Hi Stinky Sock.

Plagg: Hi Sugar Cube. I can no longer hold him back.

Tikki’s expression quickly turned worried.

Tikki: No, right now isn’t good. She’s not ready. Especially now that their relationship is strained.

Plagg’s eyes quickly darkened as he looked at his other half. Marinette could actually feel the temperature in the room drop.

Plagg: Well that’s too bad, I’ve already let this go on for too long. Any more than this and it will seriously start to hurt him and our connection.

Tikki: Can’t you please hold out for a bit long….

Whatever Tikki was about to say died in her throat(do kwamis have throats???) because if it had gotten cold before now it was downright freezing.

Marinette with her teeth clattering: Tttikkki wwhat is ggggoing on?

Tikki: Okay Plagg you’ve made your point now stop it.

As if nothing had changed the cold and dark atmosphere that had surrounded her room quickly evaporated.

Marinette: Okay, you both need to tell me what’s going on.

She looked between the two and when neither of them offered a response she very sternly looked at them.

Marinette: Now!!!

She hears Plagg sigh and float forward.

Plagg: You know how practically anyone can use a Miraculous.

Marinette nods to him.

Plagg: Well that is not entirely true. You see when someone puts on a miraculous, a bond is forged between the wearer and the kwami. And while yes anybody can transform using the transformation phrase there is one more aspect to it.

Plagg looks towards Tikki who roles her eyes at him.

Tikki: Upon the first transformation of any wearer, something happens that humans are never truly able to remember. Our very essence is taken to a different plane of existence. It is the birthplace of us kwami.

Marinette’s eyes widen at hearing of the place kwami are born. Her interest was now razor focused on Tikki.

Tikki: Once there, the wearer and kwami interact with each other with no secrets to get in the way. Depending on how they interact with our essence determines how strong or weak the bond will end up being as time goes on.

The very idea of what their explaining seems very personal. Marinette didn’t think she could ever be that open with anybody willingly, not even Adrien.

Plagg: This is also how we determine just how much of ourselves we give to the wearer of our Miraculous.

Marinette: What do you mean by that?

Plagg: Tikki, I thought you said she was smart.

Marinette: Hey!!!!

Tikki: Plagg don’t be rude and explain what you mean so she can understand.

Plagg: Urh fine, it means that if we determine that they aren’t the right one for us then we hold back our powers. This includes people who could potentially have bad intentions. We would want to reduce the amount of our power that they can use so that they can be taken down as quickly as possible.

Marinette: What kind of interactions would cause you to think someone was a bad fit or had bad intentions?

Tikki: For people who have my earrings, it would be people who ignore my existence. Usually people are excited around me and for those who are truly compatible with me, would usually get close to me. Some of my best Ladybugs were the ones who embraced my essence.

Plagg: For me it’s the complete opposite. People who welcome me in their lives are the ones who I have to look out for. It usually means they enjoy destruction. It’s the kind of destruction that is designed only to hurt. My best Kits have been those who treat me with caution and respect.

Plagg turns pensive for a moment and then mentions.

Plagg: With one particular exception that is.

Even Tikki looks confused.

Tikki: What do you mean Plagg?

Plagg: I mean that there has been one case of someone welcoming my essence into their life and he turned out to be one of if not the best Kit I have ever had.

Tikki/Marinette: Who?

Plagg: My current holder, Chat Noir.

Here is Part 2

#Miraculous Ladybug #Chat Noir #Plagg being a little shit #Worried Tikki #Powerful Beings #Clumsy Marinette #Strained Partnership #lol

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paper-n-ashes · 2 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 16

Characters: Kylo Ren x Original Female Character, Poe Dameron x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 16 - Reconciliation

Words: 6.1k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Verbal and physical intimidation, choking, a twisted Star Wars version of phone sex (holo-sex if you will), mutual masturbation

Author’s note: I have been significantly side tracked and not been focusing on this AO3 to Tumblr transfer, so I apologise if the next few chapters come out in quick succession. And a reminder to everyone who reads this story, my baby, I love and adore you.

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

I wanted to leave, desperately. To exit past the blast doors without looking back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I treaded to one of the uncomfortable charcoal coloured sofas and sat down, lost in a trance of confusion and embarrassment.

Why was this becoming such a running theme in my life, being so horribly unprofessional when looking after vulnerable men? Men who were my patients? With Poe I came to understand all I thought and did eventually brought about an inevitable outcome, our connection forged quickly but deeply, developing feelings for him that I’d never experienced for anyone before - feelings I knew he had for me too.

But this? This growing something for Kylo that’d clawed its way past my usual indifference? It was greatly concerning.

I didn’t know what came over me, what influence the energy I felt when touching my skin to his had over my behaviour. There was a fading echo of my thoughts during those moments, his kiss feeling right, exciting, pleasurable even. Now those notions seemed bizarre.

I didn’t feel that way for him. I couldn’t.

His presence in my life had already brought so much burden with it. The threats of violence and evil intent couldn’t easily be erased from my memory. Ultimately, he was the one keeping me here, keeping me from my patients and my home, keeping me from Poe.

And for that, I still held hatred for my captor.

Although… it was a different man I’d just shared such an intimate scene with. Thinking over how it occurred, the seconds leading into our embrace, I realised something.

He’d kissed me.

Kylo initiated the connection. All seemingly without the guise of trying to break through into my thoughts. There was something so innocent about the way he first touched his lips to mine, the usual intensity of our exchanges gone for those few fleeting minutes. I was overwhelmingly curious to find out why.

A part of me noticed the irony of wanting to desperately look inside his mind for even a moment, to gain some kind of indication of his real intentions. I understood now more than ever why he was so obsessed with his endeavour to delve into mine.

I remained sitting in contemplative thought for a little while, procrastinating the inevitable task of continuing Kylo’s care, knowing I wouldn’t be able to leave until that was well and truly over. The prospect of entering back into his bedroom to endure the predicted awkward interaction was only slightly more appealing than being tossed back into my cell.

With a purposeful breath I stood, hesitating slightly before gliding my hand over the lock and slipping back into the room.

Hoping Kylo might already have fallen back to sleep, I was unsettled when I saw him still sitting in much the same position as when I’d left. Again, our stares found themselves secured into one another and I was quick to notice the hostile expression he wore.

“I thought I told you to leave,” he muttered, his tone sour.

“I’m following orders. And you’re still under my care,” I countered, stepping towards the bedroom bench where I’d left the datapad.

“I am more than able to care for myself now.”

I didn’t look up from the screen while surveying his vitals from the past hour. “You weren’t able to do that a few hours ago.”

“Exactly my point. It seems the worst is over,” he huffed. “Your treatment has been… adequate. But it is no longer required. A medical droid can fill your place easily.”

I could feel my teeth grind together, narrowed eyes shooting back to his face.

Adequate? I just saved your damn life.

“You didn’t seem to think that when you called for my attendance here. Amongst all the other qualified personnel you keep on this ship, you asked for me.”

Kylo looked away, his lips settled into straight line. “I assumed you would do a better job, knowing your punishment would be more severe if you didn’t.”

“I do my job well no matter what,” I hissed. “Even when I’m forced to treat an unappreciative tyrant.”

I could sense the barbed energy vibrate outwards from his body, even when his disposition barely faltered. “You expect me to be grateful? For doing the job I called you here to do?”

My voice became callous, offended by the thought I hadn’t extended myself to keep his thankless ass alive. “Considering I helped you avoid death, all on my own, yeah. I do consider that something to be grateful for.”

Monitor lines were ripped away, Kylo’s figure storming towards me, expression tight with contempt. “Do not begin forgetting your place here,” he snarled. His energy became wild with wrath, pulsating harder with his close proximity. “You are nothing but a hostage of the First Order. Your existence means nothing to me.”

“Yet you still wanted me,” I challenged, standing tall against his intimidating stance. The instant I’d let the words escape my mouth, his hand clamped hard around my neck, thrusting me backwards until my spine hit the wall. Even through the pain of his hold at my windpipe, I kept my eyes focused on his, defiant.

“A moment of weakness, brought about by my worsened health,” he condemned, the forceful air from his words hitting my face.

“Keep… telling… yourself… that.”

His grip grew even tighter, an enflamed growl escaping from his throat. “I could kill you now, and no one would know. No one would care.”

“Do it then,” I wheezed with the last of the air in my lungs. I continued my attempts at breathing, gasping while his clutch on me refused to waver. The fog of unconsciousness was looming around my brain, the inside of my chest prickling with the pain of oxygen deprivation. I rallied against it, pushing harder against the overwhelming urge to fall into nothingness.

I could only barely see Kylo’s violent expression through my lowered eyelids, only able to identify the erupting chaos of his aura. The sound of my heart was beating hard in my ears, trying to push what little oxygen I had left to my brain in a desperate attempt to keep me awake. It was difficult to hold back the heavy blackness, my eyes forced closed, the beginnings of tears stinging at the corners.

In the next instant Kylo’s strangling grip was gone, and I was faintly able to hear his infuriated growl through the loud, rapid breaths I was now permitted to take. I kept my back steadied against the wall, the new flood of oxygen making me feel faint. Collecting as much air as I could, I eyed Kylo pacing aggressively back and forth, his frame tensed while remaining focused in maddened contemplation.

“How many attempts on my life is that now?” I rasped. “Three? Or four? I’ve already lost count.”

The unemotional monster that covered his face with a mask had returned, his humanity fading fast. “There’ll come a day it won’t be an attempt.”

“I’ll remind myself of that the next time I have the option of treating you or letting you die.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“Fantastic. So I can assume I’m being thrown back in that cell? Seems like the type of gratitude you’d show to someone who did all they could to keep you alive,” I replied, making my tone as barbed as possible.

He strode toward me, slow and deliberate steps hitting the durasteel floor. “Oh no. You’ll still be working under my command. Like the slave you are.”

“I am not your slave,” I seethed. Hot blood tingled my cheeks, an irretrievable anger shooting through my body.

“But that is exactly what you are. A lowly nobody being forced into work to avoid punishment. A slave for the First Order. For me.” Kylo dared to curl his lips slightly upwards into a cruel smirk, his antagonising words built to inflict as much damage as possible.

It was difficult not to send out my own thrashing of insults, yet somehow I managed to hold the festering bitterness down. “Maybe I might report to General Hux, tell him exactly why you’re keeping this slave here. I think he would be interested to hear that the Supreme Leader isn’t as powerful as a newly trained Jedi.”

Kylo let out an amused exhale, looking to me like I was foolish. “General Hux is already aware of my predicament.”

I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening, an exhale becoming stuck in my lungs.

“The General, as well as the rest of High Command, have already been made privy to this information. And it encouraged them to approve of my increased focus on finding and killing the Jedi. Keeping you here, and alive, until I can find out what she’s hidden inside your mind, was something they also concurred with.”

Frack.

I had to concentrate so as to not let the distress appear in my expression. “And they didn’t care she’s found a power you haven’t heard of? They weren’t troubled about the weakness this revealed in you?”

Indifference settled onto his face. “A mildly inconvenient ability born from the light wasn’t deemed a great concern. And my inability to break through it doesn’t diminish the strength I already have. One that could force their death if I wished it so. They understand that.”

“Seems to me they don’t actually respect you, or your strength. They’re simply too fearful of their death at your hands.”

“Fear and respect can be one in the same. They bring about the same outcome, in the end. Order. Control. Conformity. All of it leading to a safer galaxy,” he pronounced, an irritating arrogance in his voice.

“Oh come on. Don’t pretend you’re somehow this gracious leader guiding the galaxy into a time of peace for the benefit of all who live in it. You only want more power, simply because a voice within your head tells you that you do. You want order because the inside of your own mind is constantly in chaos.”

Kylo’s face remained passive, but I felt in his energy the frenzy of rage flaring out from his body. “You think you have me all figured out? That you know exactly the type of person I am?”

I lifted my chin, trying to seem bold against his incensed stare. “Maybe not. But, I don’t think you even have yourself figured out.”

That statement seemed to madden him further, now unable to stop the ferocity from seeping into his features. “Get out,” he fumed, opening the bedroom door with a wave of his hand.

Hm, struck a nerve there.

“As you wish.” I smiled derisively at him, making my way to the exit. “You’re welcome for keeping you alive!” my voice called just before the durasteel door slid shut. Even through the walls I could feel his crazed fury burst outwards, making an unavoidable shiver of panic ripple over my skin.

Finding my still dampened sweater hung on one of the dining room chairs and wrapping it around my torso, I rushed out of Kylo’s quarters, filled with a storm of differing emotions.

Anger. Fear. Humiliation.

All swirling through my mind, making me feel nauseous. And amongst it all there was still a bothersome part of that held great concern for leaving my patient before I was finished with their care. Although, when I was reminded exactly how valued my treatment was by the ache still pulsing around my neck, my worry began to fade.

He wasn’t that helpless person I’d witnessed so fleetingly, the one who felt enough guilt to apologise for a small injury, the one who wanted to kiss me so sweetly. That person didn’t exist. Merely a by-product of a few hours spent in rare vulnerability. He was right, it was a moment of weakness.

But not just for him, it would seem.

Walking through the darkened corridors there was little movement around me, still being in the early hours of morning. I became stuck in deliberation about the fact that Hux, along with the rest of High Command, now knew about the block on my mind. From what I’d overheard in the conversations of command leaders I’d treated as patients, most of them had been fairly dismissive of Kylo’s obsessive focus on the Jedi. They deemed it a waste of time, effort and credits just for the capture of one person. But Kylo made it seem like they were more understanding of this fixation now. More minds in agreement could only mean it was going be easier for him to convince them to use the full force of his military fleet in finding her, and the rest of the Resistance.

An intense remorse buzzed in my chest with the realisation I’d forced an even brighter focus over Rey once again, worrying I could very well have another person loathing me for the lies I couldn’t stop telling.

My body was shivering when I’d finally made it back to my quarters, the moist fabric of my sweater making me feel horribly cold. I threw it off as soon as I stepped inside and immediately noticed a new batch of laundered clothes, including my First Order uniform, had already been delivered, the load waiting neatly on one of the side tables. Picking the pile into my hands, I carried it with me to place inside the drawers of my bedroom, lids already drooping as I longed for sleep.

After hanging my uniform up in preparation for my next shift, which I still needed to check would actually occur, I began to put away the rest of the clothes, mostly casual pieces I wore the minute I was allowed out of First Order emblazoned attire. Fingers had plucked a pair of trousers when I felt something heavy within it, opening the folded pant legs, noticing a large lump in one of the front pockets.

I reached inside, pulling out a thickened metal disc about the side of my hand, a few buttons twinkled along its base. With it came a small card, and it struck me as bizarre, barely ever seeing any kind of paper products being used on the Finalizer. Turning it over there was an unusual type of handwriting spelling out three words.

Say your name.

My stare wandered over the card curiously, turning it backwards and forwards as if it would gradually show more of an explanation for the instruction, before moving my attention back to the disc to see if it held some kind of answer.

It was silly, to feel shy with no one around, yet I was hesitant for a few moments, worried for what exactly I might be unleashing in doing what the note had said. But my curiosity was too overwhelming, desperately hoping this was another way in which the Resistance was trying to contact me.

“Alexys Jago,” I spoke clearly towards the metal. A blue stained light blinked into life, the image of a connection signal playing on what I could now identify as a portable holoprojector. My feet stepped backwards, settling onto my bed, the projection showing me the attempt it was making to link with a pre-determined target.

A voice-coded holoprojector. Smart move.

I could only assume the signal out would be encrypted, although how long that would last until the First Order comm-network unscrambled the code, I didn’t know. My heartbeat kept moving faster, pacing in anticipation for the people on the other end of the link. Maybe there was news of a rescue plan. And even if he wore the same hurt expression as the last time I’d viewed his face, seeing Poe again, alive, would still make my whole week.

An agonisingly long minute passed while the small machine initiated its signal, and a horrible dread began to hum inside that something might have happened to the people on the other end of the line. My worry snapped away as soon as the connection icon faded, the outline of a figure slowly coming into focus.

“Alex,” Poe greeted, with a levity to his voice that almost sounded like relief.

“Poe,” I replied warmly, my chest swelling at hearing him sound happy to see me. His image soon became clearer, again viewing only the top portion of his body. He appeared vaguely dishevelled, wearing a rustled white shirt, his curled dark hair gently messed, eyelids slightly droopy. Even in this state I was entranced by his features, reminded of how handsome he was. I was silently thankful I’d made my own appearance more presentable in the night, cleaning away the blood that’d leaked from my head wound and brushing out my water tangled hair. “Did I… wake you?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. It’s the middle of the night here. I was told you wouldn’t be receiving the holoprojector for another day at least. Something about a special assignment.”

Hearing him laugh made my skin tingle with delight. “I was released from that particular duty early.” A shiver of guilt was the cold reminder of what had happened in the early hours of this morning, what I frantically wanted to erase from my memory.

“Well, I’m glad,” he smiled, my heartbeat rising even higher at the sight of it. “I’ve been waiting to talk with you.”

“No one else is with you?”

He shook his head, turning serious. “I organised this holoprojector alone, so we could get a chance to speak, just the two of us. Thankfully we’ve got more than 15 minutes this time. And I was able to get our spy to make sure no-one is watching through the security cameras.”

“Good. That’s… good.” I felt myself becoming a little anxious at his intentions behind the conversation he’d worked so hard to bring about. There was so much I wanted to say, so many apologies I wanted to express, but I was made so hesitant by the solemn look on his face that the words wouldn’t form on my lips.

A long silence followed, making me more fretful as the seconds ticked over. Poe’s gaze appeared to study my face, seeming just as cautious to speak as I was. “Alex…” he murmured.

Oh no. This was it.

“Alex, I am so sorry.”

“Wait… what?”

“I’m sorry. Sorry for making you feel so ashamed in disclosing your abilities. That I made it about me. About us.”

I was locked in a stunned silence, not having expected this shift in attitude.

Poe ran a hand through his hair, an uneasiness now evident through his movements. “I had some time to think after our last transmission, time to go over everything. It wasn’t long before I realised what an asshole I had been.”

“No Poe, you weren’t-”

“I was,” he interrupted quickly. “I saw you concealing it as an implication you didn’t trust me. And that wasn’t fair. You weren’t to know what would happen, especially with us. You kept it hidden because you were afraid of the consequences, the danger, it could bring.”

“Rey talked to you, didn’t she?”

He smirked softly before turning sombre again. “She may have helped me understand a few things. How terrifying it can be to come into these types of powers, not knowing what they really are, or how people might take advantage of it. She knows more than anyone the target it puts over your head.”

“I really hated lying Poe, I swear,” I insisted, leaning in closer, my eyes pleading. “But the fear has just… eaten me alive for most of my life. I didn’t want to trust anyone. It’s… hard to get out of that mindset.”

His expression turned comforting. “I know. And you still threw all of that fear away, saving a stranger connected to the people you were hiding from.”

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t have ever let you, or anyone else who crashed on my doorstep, die because of my fear. It’s just… the Resistance is one side of a war I don’t want to be a part of. Years of seeing what it’s done to innocent people, how many lives its taken and ruined. Hiding kept me from being caught in all the death that rebellion brings, and I couldn’t be obligated to join a cause I don’t believe in. I know how selfish that is…” I hung my head, feeling a shame that squeezed my lungs tight.

“Self-preservation isn’t selfish,” Poe disputed, his voice soft. “You held a stranger’s life in higher regard than the risk to your own. Something you said you’ve done many times in the years past. I think that’s the opposite of selfish.”

His reply made my chest heave in relief, his understanding setting another cascade of reprieve stream through my blood.

“And… I understand what obligation feels like,” he continued. “I’ve spent years serving under General Organa, and it’s common knowledge how well she can tug at a persons’ compulsion to help those who are victimised, for the benefit of a safer galaxy. She’s a hard woman to say no to.”

“I can imagine.” Thinking of Leia’s face, her earnest and entreating disposition, I knew I would have never been able to refuse her request to help. There was hush in the holo then, only the usual crackle of static caused by the vast distance our transmission was likely covering. Again, Poe seemed a little troubled, noticing he was twisting his fingers in between one another, something I’d recognised he did when he was nervous. “What’s wrong?”

I could see his jaw tighten, the apprehension showing clearly on his face. “I’m… scared to ask.”

“You’ve stared death in the face, countless times, and you’re scared to ask me something?”

He nodded, not able to look up. “As a pilot, even as a Commander, I know what I’m doing. I have a goal, and I generally know what I have to do to reach it. It’s straightforward, logical. But this… This is so much harder to navigate.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re trying to say.”

He took a deep breath, obviously building confidence, forcing his eyes back to my concerned stare. “I know that after everything that’s happened, how it might have changed things… between us…”

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Swallowing hard, I knew now was the time for me to be brave. “Poe,” I breathed. “My feelings… They haven’t changed. But I would completely understand if you didn’t feel-”

“No, Alex, I do,” he blurted, now beaming with his perfect smile. “I still feel the same way.”

“Really?”

“I’ve barely had a minute where I haven’t thought of you. Missed you.”

“Me too,” I cooed. “I’ve missed you too.”

I stared back at him longingly, wishing only to be able to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips.

Poe looked back in much the same way, a subtle frustration glistening within his eyes, still obvious within the sputtering holo image. “I wish I didn’t let them leave you there, on Raxus. You could’ve been here, with me, right now.”

“I know. I can’t deny I’ve wished for that too. But, maybe… we couldn’t have stopped what happened. Maybe it was always going to turn out this way.”

Indeed. Coincidences are rare in this galaxy.

Poe immediately noticed the jolt in the holo as I recoiled in alarm at the voice appearing again.

Right on cue.

“What happened?” he questioned, face filling with concern.

I did what I could to settle the sudden tension developing within my muscles. “Nothing. Just thought I heard something. Being in this place, it’s hard to not feel on edge all the time.”

Frack. I was lying again.

Should I tell him about the spirit that constantly visited me? The voice that haunted me throughout our time together?

Consider that notion again, and you will regret it.

I felt my throat become viciously tight, an invisible grip crushing my windpipe closed, seconds passing with its powerful clutch around my neck, only for it to vanish.

Keep your mouth shut. Or next time, I will not let go.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Poe demanded frantically, noting my abrupt breathlessness.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, fighting through the terror that’d seized its hold over me. “I just… breathed the wrong way. It’s been a long day. Well, night really.”

Poe only let some of the distress fade from his face. “Are you sure?”

I nodded quickly. “Absolutely.”

“I can leave you to get some rest, if you need it.”

“No! I don’t want to give up a second of being with you, even if it’s like this. How long do we have left?”

He looked off to somewhere at the edge of his view. “Another hour.”

“And you think I want to give that up for a little bit of extra sleep?”

“Agreed. Sleep can wait,” he smirked.

I’d made myself comfortable against the wall above my bed, still holding the holoprojector in my hand, near enough to view Poe’s enchanting features up close, watching his face intently we chatted about the happenings since we’d last seen each other in person. Poe had to be increasingly vague about his mission, with the ever-present risk of Kylo Ren slipping his way past my mental block at any time. It had obviously been a difficult undertaking, telling me he still wasn’t sure how he’d made it back alive.

As the conversation flowed, he’d been extremely curious about what my young life was like with my gift hidden. A sizeable amount of time was spent explaining what I could achieve with my ability, now being able to give an accurate recount of how I’d prevented him from bleeding out.

“You can visualise the vessels? And repair them, just by concentrating on the area?” he asked, impressed, albeit a little disbelieving.

“Most body tissues, yeah,” I explained. “I started with healing my own small cuts and minor injuries. During medical training I found myself having to fix bigger wounds. It’s a little more than just concentration. It takes an immense amount of energy, hence why I fainted after my attempt to fix your severed artery.”

A memory of that next morning obviously flickered through Poe’s brain. “That’s why you were still covered in blood when I’m came to.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly get the time to clean myself up before you decided to dramatically exit out of unconsciousness.”

He exhaled in amusement. “It would have been the same painful wake up, blood stained clothes or not.”

“That is true,” I laughed, my limbs feeling light.

Poe took a few moments to observe my lively expression. “I’ve missed your smile,” he whispered sweetly.

I looked down, the hint of warmth at my cheeks, unable to stop the grin from fading. “It’s been a while since it’s felt so easy to. Not since…” My voice trailed away, the blood in my face getting hotter.

Poe raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

I could have played coy, but a sudden boldness made itself known at his mischievous tone. “Since just before that damn doorbell went off.”

There was a noticeable shift in Poe’s demeanour, appearing startled before he nodded in agreeance. “Don’t remind me. The timing really didn't work out for us.”

As a few beats of stillness passed, my courage surged through, bypassing the timid nature I’d spent years shrouding myself in. “Have you thought about it? What would have happened if we weren’t interrupted?”

“Uh…” Poe faltered, his eyes widening. I could see him swallow hard, trying to cool the shock my question had evidently provoked. Although, it quickly melted into a heated determination. “I have. Often.”

I welcomed the recognisable kindling of fire down below. “Me too,” I whispered.

“I still wish…” he started, an adorable bashfulness taking over his features, once again running his fingers through his hair.

“What? Tell me.”

“I wish I could have heard you… come for me.”

I didn’t know what it was that possessed me to divulge my next statement. “I guess I was the lucky one in that sense.”

Poe was physically startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

If I could be honest about one thing, it would be this.

“The night we played Sabacc. I went to take your vitals later, in the early morning. And I heard… you.”

The memory seemed to hit Poe like a lightning strike. “You heard me?”

A new confidence settled under my skin, desperate not to waste any more time under the dragging weight of inhibition. “I did.”

“I didn’t hear you exit your quarters.”

“You were understandably distracted,” I smirked.

“Well this is completely humiliating.” He pushed his face into his hands, and I could imagine the crimson blush of his cheeks. “You must think I’m an absolute pervert!”

I reached a hand towards his image as if to soothe his embarrassment, purely out of habit. “No, Poe, it’s okay! I… kinda loved it.”

He slipped his palms down, exposing his eyes, seeing me express an enticing smile. “You did huh?”

I nodded. “It wasn’t long before I followed your lead.”

Poe’s hands dropped immediately to the desk he was sitting at, staring at me with an excited surprise. “Right there?”

“In the hallway, yeah.”

He scraped both sets of fingers through his hair, seeming lost in a trance of disbelief. Only a few seconds had passed when his face snapped up again, expression fierce with craving. “Did you…?”

“Hard,” I purred.

His head rocked back, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck. You’re killing me here Alex.”

I let a sly grin spread across my lips. “Should I be sorry?”

“You should,” he scolded, his voice delving into a scintillating tenor. “You should be sorry for being quiet. For not letting me hear you. Or see you."

I bit my lip, the wicked temptress that’d been forever confined far beneath the surface finally getting the chance to show herself. “Would you like me to remedy that for you?”

I could see Poe’s chest heave, lips parted. He nodded only once, dipping his head slowly.

Keeping my gaze focused directly to his, I brought two fingers to my mouth, gradually having them enveloped by my lips, tongue covering the skin with moisture. Poe stared eagerly as I pulled the digits slowly outwards, sucking gently, not once letting my eyes flicker away. With a small pop my fingers were free again, and I watched his breathing quicken while I began to move them down. Eventually, I reached the border of my pants, slipping my hand past the two layers of fabric that stood between their destination.

He wouldn’t be able to see this lower half of me, but that’s exactly how I wanted it. I wanted him to keep all of his interest towards my face, on my reactions, the sounds I would make.

My fingers skimmed over my already sensitive clit, closing my eyes and humming silkily in response to the touch, a delicious burn beginning to swelter in my abdomen. Knowing Poe was watching me made it grow hotter so much quicker, feeling my own breath hasten as I steadily moved over the centre of my arousal, an indulgent sigh escaping my throat. Allowing my lids to pull open, I caught the sight of Poe’s piercing eyes, his jaw tense with restraint.

“Maker, I would give anything to have you with me now,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” I said breathlessly. “Tell me what you would do, if I was there, right now.” I raised my eyebrows in challenge, not stopping the movement of my fingers, producing a craved moan whilst glaring right at him.

“Fuck,” he swore again, exasperated. “Alex… You are making this so much harder.”

I allowed a luscious smile to form on my lips. “Well I would hope so.”

Poe couldn’t stop himself from smirking, yet there was a serious edge to his voice when he spoke again. “You have no fucking idea.”

My front teeth bit hard on my bottom lip, visions of his erection throbbing underneath the material of his underwear holding all my attention. The thoughts made my centre clench, a rising feeling of pleasure now sparkling brightly from below. “Tell me Poe… Tell me what you’d do,” I pleaded, knowing his voice was a crucial component of the intense release I wanted him to witness.

I heard his shaky exhale crackle through the holo as he continued to watch my face intently. It took a moment for him to gather enough composure to form his first words. “I... I'd kiss you so hard your lips would be swollen for days.”

I hummed in response, a memory of the sting in my lips after being interrupted on Raxus.

“And… I’d brush my lips over that sweet spot at your shoulder, the one that made every muscle in your body tense against me.”

My eyes closed again, imagining the sensation he described, recalling the delightful shiver it ignited.

“But I… I wouldn’t stop there this time. I’d pull off your blouse, take off your bra, getting to squeeze those perfect, little tits in my hands, licking your pretty nipples, making you squeal for me.”

“Oh maker… Poe… You’re so good at this,” I gasped between heavy breaths, the flames burning within scorching my insides.

“I’ve had too much time apart from you to think about it, Alex. Imagining all the ways I’d make you come.”

A short explosion of passion rippled its way through. “Oh fuck. Keep going. Please.”

There was a rumbling groan that flowed from his throat before he resumed. “I would finally get rid of those fucking panties and slip my fingers into the wetness you’d made, just for me. And I’d bring them back to my mouth and taste it, taste you… Fuck, I would give anything just to taste you.”

I moaned, rocking my head back, fingertips continuing their silky motion, my arousal growing harsher with every passing moment.

“I’m struggling Alex,” he rasped, causing my lids to flutter open to his strained expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Watching you, it’s making me… hurt.” His eyes flickered downwards through forceful breaths.

“I never said you couldn’t join me,” I panted. “Just don’t stop talking.”

Within the blur of my ecstasy-filled haze, I saw Poe shifting in his chair, able to observe the slow repetitive tensing of his right arm, his eyes scrunching closed in relief. The sight nearly tipped me over the edge right then and there.

His words grew more breathless as he continued our imagined encounter, low moans slipping into his pauses. “I’d kiss every inch of your naked body… Making my way to your sweet, swollen pussy… Licking at the juices dripping from you…”

I felt my entire figure tremble at the word he’d spoken, a small part of me shocked to my core at its use. But hearing it from this man, the way he groaned after it, I was dragged further inside the storm of pleasure thundering through my body.

“I… I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back anymore… desperate to take you… Make you mine… I’d press myself against you… Coating my cock in your wetness… Sliding over your slit… Getting you ready…”

Restraint left me, letting a powerful whine break free from my lungs, a shattering climax so close within my reach. But I furiously held myself back, desperate to hear more of Poe’s perfectly described visualisations.

The sound that escaped past my lips only made him more impassioned. “I’d fill you slowly… Pushing deeper into you… Having you stretch around me… Clutching your body even tighter… Hearing you moan just as hard as you are now.”

My head slammed against the wall behind me as a violent spike of pleasure made me begin to lose control. “Yes… Poe… I’m… I’m so close.”

I could tell he was edging towards his peak too, his breathing ragged, a fevered growl rising at my admission. He still continued to speak, using his words to push me further into bliss. “I’d thrust into you… Making you feel all of me... But I… I wouldn't be able to hold myself back… Fucking you harder… Deeper… Feeling your pussy get even wetter… Moaning louder… Filling you with my cock over and over again…”

“Poe! Oh fuck! I’m… I’m going to…”

And that was it.

I unravelled so swiftly, so deeply, crying out in uninhibited ecstasy, the fire below erupting into a white flamed blaze that raged through my limbs, setting my skin alight, my insides pulsing in satisfaction.

In the midst of my release I heard Poe come crashing into his own, the unreserved moans only extending the heavenly sensation of my orgasm. I let the feeling linger for as long as I could, wishing time didn’t have to move me away from this perfect moment.

There couldn’t be anything better than this. Better than him.

There is Alexys. Give it time. You’ll see.

Next Chapter

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