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#i will turn around and wish i could visit past (current) me and say It Does Get Better And You Will Not Only Exist But Live. I Love You.
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the problem with not having any new fics to read bc they havent been posted yet is that when Invisible Tigers Are Hunting You, there is no distraction
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serpentandlily · 7 months
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Wicked Games III
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Wicked Games - Dark!BatBoys x Reader
Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU)
Warnings: smut (minors dni pls), dubcon, dark themes (if you would like more in depth warnings before reading, feel free to message me!)
a/n: Thank you so much for all the love/kind words you guys have left me regarding this series! I know I'm shit at replying to comments but I do read them all and they def warm my cold lil heart. Hope you guys enjoy this one ;)
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II
༺♥༻
Part III
༺♥༻
A week had gone by with no word from Rhysand, something that both relieved and also frightened you. You were still embarrassed about that night at the club with them. You had let them touch you, had let them bring you so close to the edge. In public too. As soon as Rhysand had dropped you back off at your apartment that night, you felt mortified. 
Still, the silence this week had put you on edge. Every noise made you jump, everywhere you went you looked over your shoulder constantly. 
Either Rhysand had considered your debt to him paid, or this was another mind game to him. He hadn’t even texted you. And it wasn’t like you could text him. No number had shown up the last time he had texted you.
You were left in a state of limbo and you should’ve felt peace at his lack of a presence in your life, but it was only the opposite. 
You were currently curled up in your bed, watching a show on your small laptop before your shift tonight, when a knock at your door had you almost throwing the laptop across the room.
You swallowed audibly, your pulse spiking. Fuck, was it Rhysand? Had your devil in disguise returned?
“Bunny, open up,” Tamlin shouted through the door. “It’s me.”
Shit. Fucking shit. You forgot that you still owed your ex money, money you were meant to get to him this week. Now part of you was wishing it was Rhysand at your door. 
You got up from the bed and opened the door to see Tamlin before you, a hand resting against the top of the doorframe and a grin on his face. 
You watched as his green eyes darted behind you, looking into your apartment as if he were checking for something before they returned to your face. He brushed past you into the apartment despite your noise of protest. You closed the door behind you and rested against it, crossing your arms. 
“You shouldn’t be here,” you said. And you meant it. If you were still being watched and a male was seen coming into your apartment, chances are he’d end up dead. “I don’t have your money yet.”
Tamlin raised a brow. “That’s what I’m here to talk about. Do you want to tell me why I got a personal visit from the Shadow this week who paid off your debt to me in full?”
Your eyes widened in shock. That was not at all what you were expecting him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”
Tamlin roamed around your apartment, picking up random trinkets and stuff thrown about. “You heard me correctly. One of Rhysand’s dogs came and paid off your debt. And I heard a rumor that you were seen with Rhysand himself at his night club. Do you want to explain that too?”
You bristled at his tone. You didn’t belong to him anymore. He had no right demanding information from you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Shouldn’t you be happy that you were paid?”
Tamlin scoffed, turning to face you. “So it’s true then? You’re whoring yourself out to Rhysand of all people? Gods, bunny, I knew you were stupid but this…this is truly idiotic.”
You clenched your fists in anger. You released a long breath, trying to maintain your composure. “Tam, I think you should leave. If my debt is paid off then we have nothing to talk about.”
“Like hell we do,” he snapped at you. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week long. Why have you been ignoring my calls?”
“I got a new phone,” you replied. “Sorry.”
He sighed and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”
You pulled your phone from your pocket and handed it over. It was easier to just do as he said instead of arguing about it. It would get him out of your apartment faster too.
His eyes widened as he looked at the new iPhone but then narrowed. “How the hell were you able to afford this?”
He grabbed it and started entering his number. “It was a gift.”
He scoffed again, sending himself a text from your phone. “So is that why you broke up with me? Was I not rich enough for you? Decided to go suck the dick of a felon for more money?”
“I really think it’s time for you to go now.” You glared at him, ripping your phone out of his hand. “For your own good.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, pushing you out of the way to storm from your apartment. “Don’t try calling me to bail you out of jail once you get caught fucking Rhysand.”
He slammed the door behind him, rattling the walls. You rolled your eyes just as your phone dinged.
Unknown: I take it by the look on Tamlin’s beastly face that you didn’t let him fuck you? 
You: Still watching me? Why don’t you go find a new hobby to partake in?  Unknown: Why would I do that when I get so much pleasure from watching you without you knowing where I am?
A picture was sent a second later. A blurry shot of you inside of your apartment in just your underwear. You let out a curse.
You: Fucking pervert.  Unknown: If I’m a pervert, then what does that make you, little mouse? You were ready to come all over my lap in the middle of a club. Or did you already forget about that?
Fuck no you hadn’t forgot about that. It was all you thought about late at night. That desire, the hot feeling of their hands on you, the pulsating music and lights. 
You: Fuck you
You made sure to add the emoji of a middle finger to the end of that message. 
Unknown: Oh you will, little mouse, you will. You: Like I said, you’re delusional and sick in the head if you think I’ll ever want any part of you. Unknown: Oh, little mouse, you have no idea just how sick I am. But you will find out. Be ready by 8pm tomorrow night. And wear that little black dress again. It’d be a shame if I never had the chance to rip it off you. 
You sent him the emoji of a middle finger again before tossing your phone down on your bed. You were not ready for another night with him…with them. Not when the need for all three of them still burned inside of you.
༺♥༻
It was a black SUV that was waiting outside for you this time. Azriel hadn't come to get you at your door either. The driver opened the backseat door for you and you slid in, noting it was just Rhysand waiting for you inside.
He gave you a feline grin, his eyes raking over your body, clearly pleased with what he saw. 
"Where are you taking me this time?"
You didn't waste any time with a greeting. Rhys raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for something. You rolled your eyes when you realized what.
"Where are you taking me this time, sir?" you spat out. 
"I'm attending a personal event tonight and I need a date."
"So is this how repaying my debt to you is going to work? Just act as your escort until you decide I've repaid you? I'm sure you can find another girl willing to accompany you for free."
He smirked at you, throwing his arm over the back of the seats, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch and by the glint in his eyes, you knew he had felt it. 
"It's cute that you think this has anything to do with a debt you owe me, darling."
You crossed your arms with a huff, "Then what the fuck else does it have to do with?" 
"Such a filthy mouth," he chided. "I already told you, little mouse. You were mine from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I gave you a week of freedom, but don't get any ideas, darling. You are mine and I will do whatever I want with you." 
"I am not yours." 
"And you think I'm the delusional one." 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He was such an arrogant prick. Before you could reply, the car stopped and the driver interrupted their conversation.
"Sir, we are at our destination." 
The driver stepped out of the car, opening the door for you. Rhysand came around the other side of the car and held out his hand for you. You begrudgingly took it. 
Rhysand gave the driver a dip of the head. "Thank you, Charles." 
You were standing in front of a large mansion, servants already waiting at the door to open it as you two walked up the front steps. Rhysand dipped his head at the servants as you passed and the sound of chattering became more clear once you stepped through the threshold. 
A slinky looking male walked up to greet you. He was handsome, if not for the pinched look on his face, with light blonde hair and pale skin. 
"Rhysand, so glad you could make it tonight," the male said, sounding anything but pleased.
"Keir," Rhysand greeted back. "I would never dream of missing one of your parties."
Keir, you had heard that name before. He was the mayor of Hewn City. Surprisingly, this was your first time ever seeing him. 
The sarcasm in his voice was evident. If Rhysand didn't want to be here, then why had he come? It didn't seem like this Keir guy wanted him here either. 
"And who might this be?" 
Keir's eyes roamed over you, making your insides curl with disgust. 
"This is y/n," Rhysand said. "My fiance."
What. The. Fuck.
He was lucky you hadn't grabbed one of the champagne flutes being passed around by servants or the wine would've sprayed out of your mouth. Why the fuck would he call you that?
Keir's eyes lingered on your hand. "Hm, no ring for the beautiful lady?"
"It's being custom made as we speak." Rhysand grinned, dangerously. "But I got ahead of myself and proposed without it. It was hard not to when she looks like this, wouldn't you agree? Didn't want her to get snatched up by some other male."  
“Of course, congratulations,” Keir agreed, though it sounded anything but friendly. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some other guests I have yet to greet. Please, enjoy my party.”
You let out the breath you were holding in as the male disappeared into the crowd. Your eyes instantly shot to Rhys. 
“What the hell was that?” you hissed under your breath. “Why did you introduce me as your fucking fiancé?”
“Not here, darling,” he answered with a grin, his eyes darting around to the people surrounding you.
He led you through the crowd, occasionally saying a greeting to those he recognized. Many eyes followed after him, you noticed, then lingered on you. You were met with more jealous stares from other women than you could count. 
Rhysand pushed a champagne flute into your hands but you noticed he didn’t have one for himself. “Drink, darling, relax. We are here to be stared at, enjoy it.”
“You don’t seem to like Keir all that much,” you whispered to him, sipping on the champagne. “So why bother coming?”
“Because, Keir likes to believe that he has full control over his shitfilled little city and I like to remind him who is really in charge every once in a while.”
“Watch it,” you grumbled. “I live in that ‘shitfilled little city.’”
Rhysand leaned down, his breath brushing against your ear. “Not after tonight, you don’t.” 
You glanced up at him. “What?”
But he stood back to his full height and said nothing else, eyes looking over the people still staring at the two of you. You felt your cheeks turn a bit red at all the attention. 
You were silent as you finished your glass of champagne, placing it on the empty tray of one of the staff members walking by once it was empty. 
As soon as you were done, Rhysand linked his hand with yours again. 
“I think we’ve been seen enough. Come, there is something I wish to show you.”
You followed him out of the crowd and away from the main room. You soaked in the beautiful paintings and rich decor as he led you down an empty corridor and into a conservatory. 
Your eyes widened as you spun around, glancing at the ornate room. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were spread everywhere, along with a few chaises and armchairs. The windowed ceiling and walls let you see the night sky, the stars glimmering above you. 
It was something you had only seen in magazines and movies. It was stunning, beautiful. You turned to face Rhysand to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his handsome face. 
Your cheeks turned a bit pink, causing his smile to turn into a grin. He sunk down onto one of the chairs and tugged on your hips until you were sitting on his lap. The familiar position from the club already had your blood turning to fire. 
“I hate the man,” Rhys started. “But Gods, he does have one of the best views of the stars.” 
You looked up again, agreeing. One of Rhysand’s large hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you back to his hard chest while the other rested on one of your thighs. 
“Are you going to tell me why you told him I was your fiancé now?” you asked as his fingers began to rub circles on your waist. 
“Because you are,” Rhysand murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “I told you, little mouse, you are mine. I intend to make you my wife because I am never going to let you go now that I’ve found you.” 
You were fucked in the head. Seriously. Because his kiss and his words caused heat to start coiling in your lower stomach. 
“You truly are insane,” you whispered.
And he was. Rhysand was one giant, walking red flag. But you had never had good taste in men anyways. 
“Am I?” he whispered back.
He kissed your shoulder again before moving up your neck to your jaw. Your breath hitched as his finger grazed the underside of your breast. He smiled against your skin, pulling you even closer. 
“You know, I’ve been watching you all week long to see if you would follow my rules,” he murmured, huskily. “And darling, you have been a very, very good girl.”
You arched into his touch now, gasping as his hand trailed up your ribcage to brush against your breast. You should really be putting a stop to this. But…fuck it. It was a hot being in the hands of such a powerful man.
His hand continued its journey until it wrapped around the front of your throat.
“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” he purred into your ear. “Don’t you think?”
His other hand pushed your thighs open and you swallowed audibly. Your eyes darted to the door leading into the conservatory where anyone could walk through. 
You needed to put a stop to this. “Rhysand, someone could walk in at any moment.” 
The hand that was resting on your throat gripped you by the chin instead and turned your head to look up at him. His pupils were blown, his pretty violet eyes now a dangerous black. His gaze darted between your own eyes and lips, hungrily.
“They all know better than to follow me, darling,” he said. 
His hand hiked your dress up to your hips and you caught his wrist. “W-What are you doing?”
He shrugged off your grip. “Relax, little mouse. Let me take care of you.”
Your skin was flushed with desire, a whimper escaping your lips as he stroked your clothed center. He pushed your thighs further apart and you let him, cursing yourself in your head. 
“That’s it, darling,” he praised. “Take your reward like the good girl you are.”
His fingers hooked around the waistband of your thong and began to drag it down your thighs. 
“Really, Rhysand, s-someone could come in,” your voice cracked as he dragged your thong all the way down your leg and over your black stilettos before sliding it into his pocket. 
Despite your protest, you did little to stop him. Didn’t even close your legs. You were a fucking idiot. And you would regret it later. But for now…
A wanton moan slipped from your mouth as Rhysand’ fingers stroked your bare pussy. You ground your hips into him, gasping as you felt his hardened length beneath you. 
“I think that just turns you on even more, little mouse,” he teased, brushing his fingers against you again. Your cheeks flushed at how wet you were already. Something Rhysand seemed very pleased about.
He groaned as you shifted your hips again, digging into his hard cock. He started rubbing your clit with his fingers and you tossed your head back against his shoulder with another moan.
He kissed your exposed neck, grazing the fragile skin with his sharp canines. 
“S-stop,” you choke out. “We shouldn’t.”
His fingers left from between your thighs and you’re protesting groan went completely against what you just said. 
“Stop,” he mocked, bringing his fingers up so you could see the glistening shine on them from your arousal. He ran them down your lips, spreading the taste of yourself on them. “Does this taste like you want me to stop?” 
He shoved his fingers into your mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded.
It was instinctual, primal even, to listen to him. You sucked on his fingers and he let out a groan as he watched you, turning you on more. The taste of yourself covered your tongue.
He yanked his fingers free and placed them back between your legs, lightly brushing your aching center.
“Say anything other than my name and you don’t get to come,” he growled. “Do you understand?”
You bit your lip as he began to rub your clit in circles again, staring down at where his fingers were touching you.
He forced you to look up at him again, his grip on your jaw so tight you let out a pained whimper. “I said, do you understand?”
You nodded as his fingers continued their assault, leaving you panting. “Y-yes, sir.”
He gave you a devil's grin. “Good girl.”
And then his lips smashed against yours. They were soft, softer than you imagined and you eagerly kissed him back as that electric feeling continued to build and build in your lower stomach. He tilted your chin up, deepening the kiss with a growl as his fingers slipped from where they had been rubbing your clit to tease at your entrance. 
He swallowed the moan that came from you with his kiss before he suddenly thrusted one finger inside of you. You gasped in pleasure, which he took advantage of, sticking his tongue in your mouth and claiming it as his. 
You withered in his lap, grinding against his hard cock as you panted, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your vision nearly went white as he added a second one, filling you so deliciously.
Your head fell back against his shoulders, breaking your kiss apart. “Rhys.”
He trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking on your flesh. “You’re doing so good, darling. Gods, you are so tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”
You groaned at his lewd words, your orgasm building. 
“Rhys,” you begged, grinding your hips in rhythm with his fingers. You had been so on edge all week and thinking about that night in the club, so you knew it wouldn’t take very long to make you come around his fingers. 
“That’s it. Come for me, darling,” he purred into your ear. 
His thumb brushed against your clit and that was the final thing that tipped you over the edge. You mewled his name over and over again as your orgasm crashed through your whole body, arching into him. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out, riding you until your nails were biting into his skin. 
You fell limp in his arms as he finally pulled his fingers from you. You watched through hazy eyes as he brought them to his own lips this time and licked them clean. “Gods, you taste so good.”
You were still trying to catch your breath, letting him pull your dress back down. He admired your flushed face, your swollen lips with a grin. “See, wasn’t that so much better than being punished?”
You nodded, your eyes still hooded and Rhysand chuckled. 
“Is my little mouse tired now?” he cooed. He patted your butt, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Come, let me take you home, darling.”
He guided you out of the mansion with a hand on the back of your neck until you reached the black SUV waiting for you. Charles was there, opening the door already. Rhys helped you slide inside before coming around the other side of the car. 
He pulled you into his side, letting you rest your body against his as the car started up, and you let him, finding some comfort in his warmth. Within a few seconds of driving, you felt your eyes slowly start to shut. 
What felt like a minute later, you were jostled awake only to realize Rhysand was carrying you out of the car. You blinked, trying to wake fully but still felt so lethargic. How long had you been driving for? Keir’s
mansion hadn’t been that far from your apartment. 
“Where are we?” you slurred as Rhys pushed your head into the croak of his neck, carrying you up what seemed to be steps. 
“Home, darling,” he murmured to you. 
You didn’t think twice about his words or you might’ve realized that you had a different understanding of what that meant than he did. Only nodded and closed your eyes again, falling back into a blissful sleep.
༺♥༻
When you woke up the next day, you were met with the sight of an unfamiliar room. You jolted up, the black sheets you had been under pooling at your waist. You had no idea where you were. Your eyes darted around the huge, ornate room. 
The walls were a cream color with gold moulding.  A huge window was on the left side of the room, beautiful dark red curtains partially covering its view. You were in a four poster bed with a gauzy canopy. There were a total of three doors on the various walls, all closed except one that led into what looked like a bathroom. 
Where the hell were you? The last thing you remembered from last night was Rhysand telling you he was taking you home. But this was certainly not your home. Hell, there was no way you were even in Hewn City. You could tell by the lack of smog in the sky from the view out of the window. 
You swung your legs over the side of the bed,
rising. You frowned when you realized you were no longer wearing the dress from last night but a skimpy nightgown. The wood floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the bathroom, happy to find a still packaged toothbrush and toothpaste. 
Once you had freshened up, you explored the other doors in the room. The first one you opened led to an empty hallway. You quickly shut it and went to the other one which opened to a walk-in closet. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the only things hanging in there. Lingerie of all types in all different colors, sheer and silk robes, and heels. 
You grumbled to yourself, grabbing one of the silk robes and putting it on over your nightgown, not that it did much to cover you more. 
You hesitantly made your way into the empty hallway, slowly walking as you listened for any signs of people. There were doors lining the walls but you didn't open them, hoping to find a living room or something of that sort instead. You must've been in a mansion because you swore the hallways seemed neverending. 
"Is that a little mouse I see scurrying around?"
You let out a noise of surprise, jumping at the loud, cheery voice that called out from behind you. You whipped around to see Cassian standing at the end of the hallway, his chest bare with his shirt thrown over his shoulder and glistening with sweat. You couldn't stop your eyes from roaming his body, his insane, god-like body. Gods, who the hell made him? 
When you met his eyes again, the grin on his face told you he knew that you had just been checking him out. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Where am I? What is this place?"
"This," Cassian chimed, "is our home, little mouse. Rhysand's mansion. Our compound. Call it what you want." 
"I thought he lived at The Sidra."
Cassian ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. "No, who the fuck would want to live in Hewn City—no offense! That is just where we do our business when it involves that city, so no one knows where we actually live." 
"Okay," you said slowly. "So where the hell are we? And why am I here?" 
“This property is so big, it’s basically its own small town. You won’t find anyone else for miles and miles, little mouse, so don’t bother running,” he winked at you. “As for why, I’ll let Rhys explain that. Speaking of, he asked me to check if you were awake and to escort you to his office.”
You begrudgingly walked to him, letting him start the course to Rhysand’s office, hoping to get some answers.
“I heard you two had quite the night, little mouse,” Cassian said, grinning down at you.
You had to admit, next to Cassian you were basically a little mouse. The male was a giant, at least a foot taller than you. But something about his demeanor made him less threatening. He seemed like the friendliest out of the three. Not as dark and foreboding as the other two. 
Your cheeks turned red as you looked away. “So Rhysand is the type to kiss and tell. How juvenile.” 
Cassian let out a laugh that made you do a double take. He was beautiful. Not as pretty as Azriel or regal as Rhysand, but equally attractive in his own way. More masculine and brutal in his beauty. 
“I’m telling him you said that,” he said. 
You shrugged your shoulders, examining the place as you walked down the hallway. Outside of the room you had been in, the rest of the place had a much more modern feel, with dark gray walls and dark flooring. 
“Here we are,” Cassian said, stopping you just before a large set of double doors. He pushed them open, gesturing at you to walk-in first like a gentleman. 
Rhysand’s office was huge. The first thing you noticed was the wall that was a window, overlooking the backyard. Rhysand was sitting at a large desk in front of it, in an armchair that resembled a throne. 
Bookshelves lined the walls, many books and expensive looking trinkets on them. On the other side of the room was a weapons rack locked behind a gated case full of guns and pistols. 
Your eyes went back to the desk, noticing now that Azriel was also in here. 
“Sleeping beauty is awake,” Cassian announced in greeting. “Found her roaming around the halls.” 
“Thank you, Cass,” Rhysand said with a dip of the head. 
“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think it’s time I give our little friend Devlon a visit.”
Cass nodded at Rhys and stepped out of the office, closing the doors behind him. You watched him until he disappeared from view before turning back to face the other two. 
“Come here, little mouse,” Rhysand said, pointing to the empty chair that Azriel was leaning against across from him. 
You took a seat, looking at Rhysand cautiously. He was wearing a black t-shirt that showed off the black swirling tattoos on his arms, ones you hadn’t seen before. 
“Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home last night, not kidnapping me,” you snapped. 
Rhys placed his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair like a king with no crown. “You are home, darling.” 
“Stop with the bullshit, Rhysand. Take me home. Now.” 
“Like I said, little mouse, you are home. This is your home now. I won’t have my fiancé living in that squalor.” 
“I’m not your fucking fiancé! You’re psychotic! Take me home!”
“We really have to do something about that mouth, don’t you agree, Az?” Rhysand looked at the shadow that was hovering behind you. 
He must’ve nodded because Rhysand looked back down at you. 
“I’m not playing around, Rhysand,” you growled. “Take me home!”
Rhysand rose, placing his palms on the desk as he peered down at you. “And I’m not playing around either. It is not safe for you to live in Hewn City now that I’ve told Keir that you’re my fiancé.”
You threw your hands in the air. “Why on earth did you have to tell him that then? I am not your fiance. I am not your girlfriend. I am simply someone who owes you a debt that you literally met only two weeks ago.”
“I’m growing tired of this, little mouse,” Rhysand snarled, prowling around the desk until he stood before you. “I think I have made myself very clear. This has nothing to do with a debt. You are mine. Mine.”
“And I’m growing tired of you acting like you own me! I am not yours!”
“Really? Let me ask you this, little mouse. Does anybody else make your body sing the way I do? Has anyone’s touch ever turned you on fire like mine? Admit it. Your body belongs to me. All I’m missing is your heart. But that’ll soon be mine as well.” 
You felt heat creep up your neck because he was right. A simple touch from Rhysand did cause a spark inside of you that you had never even felt before. Even Cassian’s touch that night at the club had awoken something in you. Like your darkest desires had been unleashed that day and now, no other touch would compare. But you didn’t want him to know that. For your own dignity. 
“You think very highly of yourself, Rhysand,” you scoffed, looking away. 
But he had seen the color on your cheeks, had seen the darkness burning in your eyes. 
“Look at me,” he ordered. You swallowed, your eyes darting back up to his striking face. A muscle in his jaw was clenched and he rose to his full height. “You live here now. This is your home. It is not safe for you to return to your apartment and frankly, you were never safe there to begin with. I’ve already had someone retrieve the important things from your place and they are all waiting for you in your new room, the one you woke up in. You are not locked up here. I will give you a car. You may come and go, but you will always tell either me, Azriel or Cassian when you are going to leave.”
He had a point. Your neighborhood was extremely unsafe. And if people knew what you meant to Rhys, it would only put a target on your back. You cursed him in your head. This had been his plan all along. To find a reason to make you live here. 
“And what if I take the car and never come back?” you asked, staring defiantly up at him. 
He smirked. “Then I will find you and we can play this game of cat and mouse forever.” 
You bit your lip, wanting to retort but the look in his eyes, that feral, crazed looked stopped you. This was the most powerful and dangerous male in all of Prythian and you knew without a doubt that he would find you, no matter how far you ran. This beautiful, lethal male was obsessed with you…and you were fucked up for being so utterly turned on by it. 
“Did I make myself clear?” 
You nodded and he looked at you expectantly.
“Yes sir,” you grumbled. 
Just because you were agreeing, just because you were filled with craving and desire, didn’t mean you were just going to throw yourself at him. No, you would make this just as difficult as he did. 
“Good. Now get on your knees,” he commanded. 
Your eyes widened. “W-what?”
“I said get on your knees, little mouse.” 
You hated the way your body listened, falling to the floor in front of him.
“Take off my belt,” he ordered. 
You glared up at him. “Fuck you.” 
“See, that’s why you’re in trouble right now. That filthy mouth,” Rhysand growled. “Take off my belt, little mouse. Don’t make me ask you again.” 
You continued to glare at him as you reached up and started to undo his belt, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you realized he was rock hard underneath his pants. You yanked it from him roughly and he smirked as he grabbed it from you, handing it to Azriel over your head. 
Your brows furrowed in confusion as Azriel bent down on his haunches behind you. Rhysand gave him a nod of the head and suddenly, two scarred hands were grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back. You let out a yelp as you felt Azriel loop the belt around them, trying to shrug him off, but he was much stronger. He tightened the belt until your wrists were secured behind your back to the point of pain. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed up at Rhysand. 
Rhysand unbuttoned his pants with one hand while the other landed on your head, stroking your hair. “Teaching you another lesson, little mouse. If you want to have a filthy mouth, then I expect that you to do filthy things with that mouth.” 
He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock free. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him, at how large he was. You had felt it against you, of course, but seeing it was different. You couldn’t help but imagine it ramming into you over and over again until you screamed. 
“Open your mouth,” he directed. 
You shook your head, pressing your lips together. 
“Open your mouth, now,” he ordered again, his voice as dark as night. You just glared up at him, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He let out a scoff and looked at Azriel who was still kneeling behind you. “Azriel.”
You didn’t know what that command meant until you felt Azriel’s hand wrap around your throat from behind. You restrained from opening your mouth and he began to squeeze and squeeze. You whimpered at the pain but kept your mouth shut until your lungs were empty of air, burning in your chest. He eased the pressure a little bit and you finally gasped for air. 
Rhysand took the opportunity to thrust his dick into your mouth, using the hand on the back of your head to guide you. You choked as he hit the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. He let out a groan, tossing his head back. 
“Come on, little mouse, suck my cock and you might get a reward yourself,” he growled.
Fuck it, you decided. If you were going to do this, you were going to completely own him like he thought he did you. You hallowed out your cheeks and flattened your tongue, bobbing your head. He hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. You ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock, pulling another groan from him. 
You glared up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks as you choked on his dick, taking him as far as you could. He started pushing your head back and forth for you, fisting your hair. You used every trick you had in your arsenal, drawing moan after moan from his mouth. 
“Fuck, darling, your mouth feels so good,” he growled.
You continued to glare at him.
“Oh don’t look at me like that. I know you’re enjoying this,” he grunted, thrusting his cock in your mouth, fucking your face as you could do nothing, not even brace yourself against his thighs with your arms held behind your back. 
You scoffed around his cock, denying his claim.
“So if Azriel were to touch you right now, he wouldn’t find your dripping with how much this turns you on?” 
You growled, causing him to groan again at the vibration. He looked at Azriel and suddenly a hand was reaching down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and stroking your center. You moaned at the touch of his fingers, already knowing what he found. He lifted his fingers, showing off the glistening arousal coating them. 
“Thought so,” Rhysand grinned, fisting your hair even tighter. “Continue, Azriel.”
You had no idea what that meant until you felt Azriel’s fingers stroking your pussy again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rubbed circles around your clit. You were absolutely throbbing. 
Rhysand continued to thrust into your mouth, grunting as his pace quickened. “Gods, you take me so well, darling. Like your mouth was made for this cock. Fuck.” 
His dirty words only turned you on more. You could feel your own arousal dripping down the side of your thigh. Azriel’s other hand slid between your legs, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continued to rub your clit. You gasped as he slid a finger inside of you, pulling it back out slowly, and then roughly thrusting it back in. 
You were certain you had never been more turned on in your life before. Stuck between these two males, one fingering you from behind while the other used your mouth brutally. You cried as Azriel added a second finger, continuing in pace with Rhysand’s thrusts into your mouth. 
“Fuck,” Rhysand snarled, his thrusts became sharper, faster. Tears were pouring from your eyes as he hit the back of your throat time and time again, making you choke on his dick. “That’s it, darling. Gods, just like that. Fuck.”
It was so hot how much control you had over Rhysand in this moment, despite the position they had put you in. He was a slave to you right now. You were the owner of his pleasure. You moaned around his dick as Azriel quickened the thrusts of his fingers inside of you. 
You felt Rhysand tightened in your mouth before he slammed your head to meet his thrust, burying his cock into your throat, chanting your name over and over. You choked as hot liquid spurted into your throat but Rhysand kept you there, his cock buried in your mouth, not letting you go. You swallowed all of his cum until the veins in his arms were protruding from the overstimulation. He finally pulled out of your mouth, letting you gasp for air. 
As soon as your mouth was free, Azriel ripped a hand away from your pussy and grabbed you by the back of the throat. He pushed you forward until your face was pressed against the ground, your ass in the air. You moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper into you while holding you down. 
“God, please,” you mewled. 
“I am no God,” Azriel growled into your ear, his voice so dark and sensual, it pushed you closer to the edge. 
His hand tightened on your throat until your vision was nearly white and your body was shaking with pleasure. You felt your orgasm building and building, pushing your hips back to meet each thrust of his fingers until you cried out his name, wave after wave of pleasure taking over your body.
He didn’t stop as you pulsated around his fingers, didn’t stop until you were crying and begging him to. Only then did he yank his fingers free. Your body went limp as you panted, his hand finally leaving your throat so you could breathe properly. 
“And that is what you get for obeying me, little mouse” Rhysand purred from above you.  
༺♥༻
The next day, Rhysand gave you a full tour of the entire place. You were blown away. There were two huge garages full of sports cars, motorcycles and SUVS. An indoor and outdoor gym. Three different pools and hottubs. A weapons room. A fancy, formal dining room along with another more intimate one. Many different rooms for meetings. An intel room full of high-tech computers and equipment. A large living room with a massive tv, fireplace and sitting area. A beautiful kitchen that was stocked with just about everything you could dream of. 
It was truly an unbelievable place. He even had gardens outside, five different gaming rooms, a lounge, four different bar set-ups. Cassian had been right when he described it as a compound. 
Once the tour was over, it had taken just a little over an hour, Rhysand led you to the kitchen to get some lunch. They also apparently had a personal chef who made all their meals. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had been poor all your life. Had never even been to a hotel that was half as nice as this place was. 
Rhysand was explaining some of the rules they had here when Azriel and Cassian walked into the kitchen, both shirtless. Your eyes raked over their bodies, unable to stop yourself. You looked back at Rhysand to see him grinning. You scowled at him. You waited until they left before you said anything.
“Do you also make them walk around half dressed?” you gestured to your own attire. Your closet was still only full of lingerie and robes. When you had asked for clothes, Rhysand had just told you he much preferred you like this. 
“Oh no, darling, they are doing that on your behalf,” he purred. 
Your eyebrows raised. “What? On my behalf? What do you mean?”
“Well, you see, Cassian and Azriel have a bit of a bet going on.”
“What does that have to do with them hardly wearing clothes?” 
“They’re both trying to entice you, darling. The bet is for which one of them you’re going to fuck first.”
“Who says I want to fuck either of them?”
“Still playing this same game, little mouse?” He gave you a look that had your jaw clenching. 
“And what about you? Are you not part of this bet?”
“Oh no, darling. They both know you’re going to be fucking me first,” he grinned. “They have strict orders not to have you before I do.” 
“Is that so?” 
You bit back a grin, suddenly twisting at the thought of a new challenge. You looked at the door the two male had disappeared through. You were absolutely going to do everything you could to make one of them disobey Rhysand. It would be fun to finally have some control over the situation, to finally knock the arrogant leader down a peg. 
But which one was likely to give in first? 
Well, that was something you were definitely going to find out. 
༺♥༻
Tag list: @justdreamstars @minakay @f4iry-bell @godletmebeanf1wag @judig92 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @peaceandcrackers @glitterypirateduck @gorlillaglue25 @the-lake-is-calling @danikamariemain @sousydive @mis-lil-red @hallucynatiing @librafairy @poshestpigeon @sirenaobscura @red-rabbit-13 @elle4404
*If you asked to be on the taglist but don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(
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abbyromanoff · 1 year
Note
Gonna request an Alpha!Natasha with pregnant!omega!reader ;) but the angsty part is that reader past relationship was with Wanda, but she cheated on her w vision they had a rough break up after 1 month of the break-up reader discovers that she's pregnant w Wanda's pup, she goes to Wanda to resolve the situation but wands doesn't assume the child saying it's not hers, afterwards reader goes full pissed off and crying to Nat bc she doesn't know what to do and Nat says that she's gonna help raise the kid Months go by, and they fall for each other, only to the both of them confess after the birth of the twin girls when the visits are allowed wanda comes in to see the twins and reader gets protective and starts growling at her while Nat is scenting marking both of the pup's and reader
Ending fluffy bc it's Christmas time
(The pup's name can be Slavic cultured)
My Omega
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Pairings: Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x omega!reader, (past) Alpha!Wanda maximoff x reader
Word count: 2407
Warnings: ABO universe, pregnant reader, giving birth, cheating, angst, fluff, mentions of vomiting, think that’s all!
Summary: After you caught the love of your life, your alpha, cheating on you when you were pregnant, you left. Nat cared for you and took you in, caring for you the way Wanda never had. You couldn’t help but fall for her.
No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!
Grabbing the test you walked back to you and Wanda’s shared room, your heart full of joy as your life would forever change. You opened the door without knocking, seeming as it was your room so you assumed there was no need to announce your entrance. The sight you walked in on made your heart full of joy turn to an aching pain. Betrayal. That’s what it was. You felt betrayed seeing Wanda on top of Vision, the two in bed making out. She gasped and got off of the man hearing you walk in.
“Y-Y/N..” Your head shook back and forth, trying to convince yourself this was some time of dream, a nightmare. Her hands rested on your arms, the stick dropping in the process. She looked down for a moment before registering what it was, leaning down to pick it up.
“Baby, what is this?” You walked backwards slowly, her trying to follow you.
“No! Don’t go near me, you cheating bastard!” She flinched lightly at your words but continued to look at you with pure shock.
“Is it mine? Are these pups mine?” She gripped your arm tightly before you could leave, making you whine out in pain. She removed herself from your body, looking down at the red mark in shame.
“Yes they’re yours! Unlike you, I don’t cheat.” You could see the anger in her expression start to boil, scoffing in your face.
“Oh really? Because you seem to be real close with Nat, wouldn’t be surprised if you two fucked. Hey, maybe even it’s hers!” You fake laughed and ripped the test out of her hands aggressively.
“You’re fucking insane Wanda! You cheat on me and now you’re trying to also put the blame on me? What did I ever do to you?” At this point, Vision had already left. He must’ve gone through the walls like a coward. Nat was currently walking through the halls, planning on going to her room until she heard yelling. She knew it wasn’t her business, but when hearing her name she had to intervene. She stood close to the door, hearing every word filled with emotion. She could hear the hurt in your voice, the pain. And she could hear the anger in Wanda’s, she had no right. Even if Nat barely knew what was going on, she could understand by the words you two were shouting at one another. Wanda had cheated, Nat wishes she could say she was surprised. All of her sneaking around, it was suspicious. When she warned you, you only denied it saying she could never hurt you. But here she was, doing that exact thing.
She saw you run out of the room and stop in front of her, looking into her eyes with sorrow before continuing your voyage to your room. Wanda rushed out and made eye contact with the woman as well, a scowl marking her face. Nat considered going to your room, would you yell at her? Would you accept her caring nature? She decided to go with her guts and followed you, softly knocking on the door only for you to dismiss her. She didn’t give up though, she stayed there until you opened the wooden entrance and let her in.
“What do you need?”
“I don’t think it’s about what I need, what do you need?” You sighed and sat down on your bed, sitting criss crossed and codling your knees as support. She sat beside you and rested her hand upon your thigh, trying her best to soothe or comfort you. You grabbed the small tests and handed them to her, not being able to look at her shocked face.
“Oh. Oh, this- this is great! You’re going to have pups!” She said excitedly, only to remember why you were so down.
“But, not with Wanda?” You shook your head and tried your best not to let the tears flow once again, but when she cuddled you into her arms, you couldn’t stop it. You cried like a child into her shoulder while she whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
“It’s going to be alright.”
“How do you know that? I just caught my partner cheating on me when I was going to tell her that I’m pregnant, with her fucking pups!” You exclaimed loudly, the fear and hurt in your voice evident.
“I know it’s going to be alright because I'm going to be with you the whole time. I’ll take care of all of your needs, it’s what you deserve, what you need at this moment.” You felt bad. This wasn’t her job yet she was stepping up and doing what Wanda could never.
“Nat, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking, I’m telling you that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t care if they’re not mine, I will treat them as though I’m their mother. I will show you and these little pups so much love, you’ll even reconsider ever having Wanda by your side.” She muttered the last few words jokingly, getting the first laughs out of you in the night.
“See! I’m already doing amazing, aren’t I?” You nodded and she chuckled lightly before helping you get into bed, the crying and screaming making you tired. She got a bottle of water and rested it on the nightstand for when you awoke, along with an Advil pill as she knew you’d have a headache soon enough. You fell asleep quickly and she admired your peaceful state, one that she hasn’t had the privilege of seeing for awhile. Nat made her way down to Fury’s office and explained your situation, requesting that you and her would not have to go on mission until a few months after the baby is born and you’re all recovered. He agreed, already planning for this day with each omega in the building.
The months went by quickly, Nat keeping her promise and making sure you were healthy and happy. Every craving you had, she got, even in the dead of the night. Whenever you were bent over the toilet puking, she’d hold your hair back and cradle you afterwards. She’d figure out anything that made you nauseous and threw it all away, banning the team from having it in the compound until after you’ve given birth. When the pups kicked for the first time, she was there crying gently and talking to them as if they could hear her, she liked to believe that they could. Every doctor's appointment, she was there holding you. During the gender reveal, she cried when finding out she’d have two little girls. She’d pretend that they were hers sometimes, it made her smile. Touching your stomach alone made all her worries disappear, knowing that they’d be here soon enough. She’d sing them lullabies, ones that her mother sang to her and Yelena when she was little. Whenever you two slept in the same nest, her arm would protectively wrap around your stomach. And when she slept alone, she’d toss and turn relentlessly. She knew she was falling for you, if anything, she has loved you since you were with Wanda. For the longest time, she tried to deny it, deny her feelings for you. She tried so hard, even going so far as to try and ignore you for weeks to months. But it was too hard, she couldn’t go a day without seeing your beautiful face. And when she heard about Wanda cheating, she knew that was her time to step in and be what she could never. She gave you time, let you adjust to the new heart break that Wanda left behind. But she wanted you to be hers once and for all, she wanted you as her omega, not anyone else. She wanted to mark you as her own, no, she needed to.
The moment your water broke, she went into action. It was terrifying, all the practice and training went to waste as she panicked. But she kept it under control, monitoring your contractions and getting you to the med bay as fast as possible. She didn’t trust hospitals, she wanted someone she knew to deliver your baby. You both agreed to give birth in the compound’s medical wing, it was faster and more efficient anyways.
You pushed and pushed, yelling at the doctors and even at Nat who was supporting your back and holding your hand. When the first baby started crowning, she moved to watch as tears escaped her, her pups were finally here. They were hers, she may not be related to them biologically, but they were still hers. The first was born, Alla. You both took months to decide good names but eventually figured the perfect ones out, Alla and Ania. They were Slavic cultured, Alla being a mix between Russian and Ukrainian meaning up while Ania meant grace. She held her baby like it was the last time, cradling her small face with her finger. The nurse took her and Nat prepared to help you push out the second, well, give you emotional support.
Not long after you got to hold your little girls, Alla in your left arm and Ania in your right. Nat leaned over your body and stared at the two with love in her eyes, she couldn’t believe it, her pups were finally here. Her little own family was together. The nurse soon took your bundle of joys into the other room while you were left there with Nat.
“Oh Y/N, you did amazing today, I’m so proud of you. You pushed out two little angels all by yourself, you did such a great job, baby.” You leaned into her touch, staring at her lips as she did the same.
“Y/N…”
“Please, I need this. I want you to kiss me, make me yours.” She complied and connected her lips with yours, it felt like heaven. The moment you both have been dreaming for finally happened, you were connected.
“C-can I mark you?” She asked in a low whisper, seemingly nervous for your response. You only nodded and she smiled before moving down to the junction between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking the skin lightly. You moaned lightly as her saliva hit your scent gland, completely marking you as her own. She looked you in the eyes and gave you a teeth showing grin before resting her forehead against your own.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” You silently agreed with her before yawning, being quite exhausted after giving birth.
“Rest, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You let your eyes shut as sleep took over you. Nat moved a strand of hair away from your face before kissing your cheek softly.
After two days, you were finally able to take the pups. You both held them carefully and walked over to the team as they all excitedly held and cradled the baby as you two did not long ago. They all congratulated you before catching their eye on your neck, you put your hair in front of it nervously as a way to cover it up. You could see Wanda out of the corner of your eye glaring at you and Nat. As much as she wanted to hold the baby, you didn’t let her just yet. She ran upstairs, causing you to glance at her before Nat turned your attention back to your friends and now, family.
Later that night, you and Nat placed the pups in their cots and got ready for bed happily. Nat went to go grab a glass of water and a book she left downstairs when you heard a knock on the door. Opening it you were greeted by the sight of a teary-eyed Wanda.
“W-Wanda, what are you doing here?” She sighed and looked down but shot her head back up when hearing a soft giggle from Alla.
“I came here to see my pups, they’re not just yours and they sure as hell aren’t Nat’s.”
“Oh really? Weren’t you the one insisting that they were Nat’s when you cheated on me?” She tried getting through the door but you stopped her short, blocking her from seeing the two. She was about to forcefully move you until a loud growl-like sound came from behind her. Wanda turned to see who it was but was met by Nat’s angry glare.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her arms crossing against her chest. Wanda didn’t back down, she stood proudly and returned the look.
“I’m going to see my pups, that’s what I’m doing.” You speed walked towards the two and protected them from the women fighting at the doorway. They wailed heavily, making Nat look over at them in fear and protection. She pushed Wanda aside and carefully took Ania and Alla in her arms, kissing each of their precious little faces while rocking them back and forth. She whispered sweet words to the two as Wanda scurried off, muttering a small ‘fucking bitch’ under her breath. When the crying came to a stop, Nat settled them back down and let you lay down in the nest.
“Thank you Natty.” She smiled and laid beside you, peppering little pecks on your lips. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, the same way she’d do when you were pregnant.
“There’s no need to thank me, you know I’d do anything to protect our family.” You were so grateful for her, she never even got mad at you. She went from yelling at Wanda to holding you tightly, you were the only exception.
“Ijust want you to know how much I love and appreciate you, the little ones too. They’re going to grow up loving their momma and mommy, I bet they’ll like you more, you’ll spoil them rotten I know it.” Hearing you call her the pups momma made water leak from her green eyes. She couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her from your last words, you were right. She would give those little angels anything they ever wanted and more.
“Oh baby, I’m going to love and cherish you forever, I love you so much.” She placed kisses all over your sweet face before speaking once more.
“Rest now, my little omega. I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”
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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 4 months
Text
Crazy For You- Ethan Landry
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Ethan Landry x Reader
Summary: After Ethan survives, you decide to visit him.
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When you got the news that Ethan survived, you didn’t know how to feel. Part of you was happy that someone you loved so much made it through the several surgeries he needed, but you couldn’t stop thinking of all the people you lost. You couldn’t stop thinking about Quinn chasing you around the theater with that knife. You couldn’t forget his dad yelling at him to kill you.
You’d recently started therapy, and against your doctor’s wishes, you decided to visit Ethan at the high security mental facility he was currently in.
As you pulled up to the brick building, you showed the guard your ID. He looked it over, before picking up the phone. You sat there, palms sweaty, not knowing what to expect. The guard gave you back your drivers license, before opening the gate.
“You’re going to go to parking lot B. When you get there, push the button at the door. Someone will be down to get you,” He said. You thanked him as you drove inside.
Once you made it to lot B, you were scared to get out of the car. You sat there for a while contemplating your choice to see him. You pushed past your fear, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hurt you. You needed answers. You needed to know why he went along with his dad’s plan.
You pressed the button on the door. It didn’t take long for a nurse to let you in. You made a little small talk, before asking the questions about how safe this meeting will be.
“Is he still dangerous?” You asked, after you got in the elevator.
“We have him on plenty of meds, and he will be strapped into the chair. He won’t be able to hurt you. He might not even speak, just be prepared for that,” she said, as we reached the third floor.
As the doors opened, the words ‘High Security’ were painted in bright red letters on the wall. You passed door after door of various inmates, all there for horrible crimes.
You were led to a room with white walls, a table and two chairs. You see Ethan sat in one of the chairs, his arms and legs strapped in. He turned his head as he saw you, a weak smile playing on his lips. You took a seat across from him, not knowing what to say.
“I’m happy to see you,” he said, words slurring from the medication.
You couldn’t say anything, you just stared at him.
“Baby, I’m sorry for everything,” your heart started beating faster. You missed him calling you ‘baby’.
“Why did you do it, then?” you asked, tears slipping out.
“I had to do what the rest of my family wanted,” he looked down at his lap. He’s never been able to watch you cry, and knowing he was the reason was killing him on the inside.
“Why did your family want me to die? I didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Richie,” you whispered, wiping away a few of your tears.
“We all expected to make it through, and you would know the truth,” he said, “But I couldn’t do it. I love you too much to hurt you.”
You heard him start to sob, still not looking up from his lap.
“We could’ve turned them in. We could’ve fixed the situation before it got bad,” you said, thinking of all the different ways things could’ve been handled.
“No, I couldn’t. Dad worked with the police. I knew if I didn’t go along with it, he’d pin it on me.” He finally looked up to you, his eyes red from crying, “I wouldn’t be able to be with you.”
“You’re not really with me now, though.”
An officer came into the room, telling you that you needed to leave soon.
“NO!” Ethan yelled, as he started to thrash around as much as he could in the chair.
“It’s okay, I’ll come visit again,” you said, seeing exactly why this is where he needed to be.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered, throat raw from his screaming.
“I need to, but I promise I’ll come see you soon.” You said sincerely, standing up to leave the room. You were almost outside the door when Ethan spoke.
“Wait…do you still love me?” he asked, the smallest ounce of hope in his eyes.
“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” you whispered, as the nurse came over to escort you out.
“That’s the first time he’s cried since he’s been here,” she said, pushing the button for the elevator.
“Really?” you asked, a curious tone in your voice.
“We’ve heard him yell, he’s been violent, but that’s the first time we’ve seen that kind of emotion out of him.”
Your heart started to swell.
“Is that good for him?” You asked.
“I think so. The question is, is this a good thing for you?” she asked, walking you to the exit.
“Probably not, but I love him.”
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Note
please do a part two of I fell for you it is amazing
I fell for you. (part 2)
Azriel x f!Reader x Eris
Masterlist.
Part 1
Warnings; mentions of sex.
Okay today I got so inspired and realized that I would let Eris destroy me anytime he wished to. Part 3 coming soon!
“I think our lessons are over, there’s nothing else I can teach you!” Helion exclaimed.
“So I’m ready?” You asked wide-eyed.
“Yes! I’m so proud of you” he hugged you.
It has been a year since you left Velaris, you went to the day court and asked Helion if he could take you in and help you improve your healing skills. He was a great friend and teacher and after a year you could say that you became the best healer anyone could have in their court. Helion was informing you about everything that was happening in the night court since you left. Turns out Rhysand wanted you all together that night to announce that him and Feyre were expecting. You felt happy for them and finally you didn’t have a bitter taste in your mouth. Nesta and Cassian got married and are trying for a baby and Elain accepted the bond between her and Lucien. Helion had a sad expression when he informed you about Azriel. The shadowsinger broke down and quit his duties in order to heal, he searched for you and thankfully Rhysand promised Helion not to say anything about your whereabouts. When the spymaster visited the day court Helion glamoured you and put a spell on your room so no one could enter. 
It broke your heart to hear his broken voice but you couldn’t go back. You couldn’t stay with him because of an ancient bond. You reconsidered everything in the time you spent here and decided that the mating bond was something meaningless, you now sought true love. Azriel left the next day and you didn’t hear from him again. 
A few days later a war broke out between the night and autumn court and Beron was killed by the hand of his son -Eris, who took his place as a high lord and thrived. Lucien and Elain moved to the Autumn court and became Eris’ advisors making the relationship between night and autumn stronger than ever. 
Life in prythian was peaceful again and things were moving forward. You finally mastered the method to hide the bond and it felt like it didn’t exist at all. 
“Y/n I received a letter from Eris… he needs a healer for his court and he asked me if I could spare him one. I think you will be great for the position.” Helion spoke when you entered his office. 
“But Lucien and Elain will be there… I don’t think I can be around her and I’m afraid that Lucien will tell Azriel that I’m there.” You said and started fidgeting.
“You can’t hide from him forever, you became so strong and independent this past year… I think you are ready to face him.” His face was filled with care and reassurance. 
“Okay…” you smiled. 
“Great I will send him our response and arrange some guards to escort you there.” Helion clapped and grabbed a piece of paper and a quill. 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You were currently standing in front of the gates of the Autumn court’s palace. After saying goodbye to Helion you hopped into the carriage and left the day court. When you reached the borders of the autumn court Helion’s guards left and the others Eris had sent replaced them. It wasn’t long until you made it to the palace. 
Eris walked out and you removed the hood of your cloak, you bowed your head and approached him. He made a tsk sound and smiled.
“Oh come on I’m not my father I don’t want people bowing to me” his voice was deep and melodic, filled with sinful promises that sent shivers down your spine. You had never seen him before, you had heard the inner circle talking about him but they never took you with them when they met with him. You didn’t expect him to be so handsome, his long red hair so smooth and shiny, his amber eyes filled with mischief and his sharp jaw making his face look like it was carved by all the gods new and forgotten. He was made out of sin and fire and you blushed as he noticed you were staring. 
“Enjoying the view?” He purred and you almost climaxed at the sound. You could swear that your face was redder than Cassian’s siphons but you were an entirely new female now so you gathered all your courage and replied.
“So what if I am?” 
He smirked, the mischief flashing brighter in his eyes.
“Oh I’m going to enjoy your company for sure” he purred again and gestured to follow him. 
You almost moaned at the sight of his strong back and broad shoulders, your mind creating images of him manhandling you, his muscles flexing and his eyes darkening. You shook your head and pushed the thoughts away hoping he wouldn’t smell your arousal. I have never laid with a male and my hormones are flipping that must be it. You tried to reassure yourself as Eris showed you your room. 
“This is your room and the one at the end of the hall is mine” he smirked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. 
“I think I got a sniff of your desire to get in my bed…” he chuckled and turned to leave. “I expect you to come to dinner tonight we have to talk about your duties” and with that he was gone. 
You were so screwed. This male would be the death of you. Everything about him made your knees tremble, power and arrogance were flowing out of him, his strong body was the definition of perfection. His scent was intoxicating making you desire him so much that you wondered if someone had casted a spell on you. Yeah completely screwed. 
 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°
You decided to wear an auburn colored tight dress to honor your new high lord and you styled your hair in a high bun. You checked yourself in the mirror one last time and left the room feeling hot and confident. One of the servants guided you to the big dining room and hurried off somewhere. Eris was sitting at the head of the table with Lucien on his right side, Elain was sitting next to Lucien. They all looked at you the moment you entered and shock filled their faces. Lucien and Elain because they didn’t expect you to be there and Eris… his eyes were scanning your body, desire flashing in them as he noticed the color of your outfit and how well it looked on you. 
“Hello” you smiled and confidently walked to the seat on Eris’ left side. You sat next to him and let your leg brush against his thigh. Your eyes challenging him. Yeah you will enjoy my company. You thought.
“Uhm y/n….Uhm hi… what are you doing here?” Elain gave you a tight smile. 
“Oh you didn’t expect to see me again right? Well after I left the night court because you were screwing my mate” Lucien gaped at you, -his shocked expression confirming your suspicions that he didn’t know- and Eris snorted, amusement filling his features. 
“I improved my healing skills with Helion’s help and now I’m going to stay here as the Autumn court’s healer” you smiled sweetly and sipped your wine. Elain was red from embarrassment and Lucien paled. 
“You were fucking shadowboy?” Eris smirked.
“I…” she was squirming in her seat and with a sigh she looked at Lucien “yes… but we ended things before I accepted the bond. I didn’t cheat on you” 
Eris burst into laughter, throwing his head back and clapping. 
“Oh this is so good.” He said gesturing to Lucien’s face. “Come on brother don’t be so boring ask her…” he said between fits of laughter. 
“Who screws better my brother or the shadowsinger?” He continued, disappointed by his brother’s silence. 
You almost choked on your wine and tried to stifle a giggle. Eris noticed and placed his hand on your thigh squeezing. 
“You can laugh it’s okay” he smiled at you and turned his attention back to Elain. Your skin was burning and even though he removed his hand you could still feel his warmth there.
“Excuse me” she whispered and ran away.
Lucien let out a sigh and got up. 
“I know that she hurt you, she hurt me too but please, I finally managed to come back home, be nice to her… I don’t want to leave again.” 
“Okay, I won’t mention it again” you shrugged and Lucien sent you a thankful smile before disappearing.
“Well that was fun” Eris chuckled and started eating.
“I know” you giggled and picked your fork again. 
 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°
Morning found you in the main room sitting on a sofa with your legs on Eris’ lap laughing and drinking wine. 
Your sober self would never place your legs on the high lord’s lap but the wine was in control and you felt so comfortable around him. He didn’t seem to mind, he was massaging your calves and talking about everything that happened during the war. You were amazed by how he could turn a horror story into a comedy with just a few remarks here and there. 
“Is that the sun?” You asked as you glanced outside. 
“No it’s the beauty I’m emitting... lighting up the whole court” he chuckled and you threw a pillow at him. 
“We have to get some sleep” you groaned.
“Are you inviting me to your bed little fox?” Eris purred and your eyes widened.
“No” you exclaimed and quickly stood up. He laughed at your embarrassment and raised himself from his seat. 
“Let’s go” he offered you his hand and escorted you to your bedroom. 
“Get some rest little fox, you will need it” he winked and left. 
The moment your head touched the pillow you fell asleep, dreaming of Eris and his court. 
 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°
It was afternoon when you woke up again because someone was knocking on your door, with a groan you got up and went to the door. Your head felt like it was going to explode and your stomach was turning. You opened the door and one of the maids smiled at you. 
“High Lord Eris has requested you to his office” 
“Okay give me a few minutes” you murmured and shut the door. You looked like a mess. You quickly entered the bathroom and splashed some water on your face before hurriedly opening the closet to find something to wear. 
You picked a loose beige dress that reached mid-thigh and changed. You fixed your hair as much as you could and left your room. The maid was patiently waiting for you and smiled politely before walking down the hall. You followed her. 
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, I just woke up and I needed some time to fix myself” you said. She glanced at you with a smile.
“Don’t worry about it my lady. You look beautiful” 
“Thank you” you blushed and stopped next to her as you reached a big wooden door. 
She quickly bowed her head and left. 
You knocked on the door and Eris’ deep voice filled the silence
“come in” .
With a deep breath you walked inside. He looked so powerful behind the big desk, his arrogant smirk plastered on his face and his big palms resting on the desk. 
“You requested to see me” you said and took a seat in front of him. 
“Yes… it seems that you are quite distracting little fox and I forgot to mention your duties last night” you shivered at the nickname. You nodded for him to continue.
“So, I already have a healer for my army… I brought you here because I needed a healer for me and my family, I can’t risk our health just because the healer didn’t have time to get here. So, you will stay in the palace, all your expenses will be covered by me. That’s the position I’m offering you” he looked formal and you blinked. You only saw his playful side since you arrived and this shocked you. Being the high lord fitted him very well.
“Uhm okay, you are being very generous” you cleared your throat.
“I take my family’s health seriously so of course I will be generous” he smiled. 
“Okay, well I accept the offer” you shrugged and smiled back at him.
“Perfect! You can go I have some work to do, dinner will be served soon.” 
“You’re not coming?” You asked a bit disappointed. 
“No, I’m too busy because someone kept me up all night” he winked. “But I’m sure my brother, his mate and my mother will be a great company” 
You blushed and nodded. With a quick goodbye you left his office. 
 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°
Dinner went well that night and you and the lady autumn seemed to enjoy each other’s company very much. You spent the rest of the days with her, going out and strolling around the garden. Sometimes you would stay inside and she would teach you how to cook or knit. She was a very calm female and made you feel comfortable and like you could fit into her house.
Eris joined you a few times, he enjoyed seeing you and his mother getting along so well. 
One day as you were sitting on a bench with his mother enjoying the view of the garden she said;
“You know… I would love if you and Eris ended up together, you’re so sweet and kind, my son would be lucky to have you.” She smiled and you almost choked on air. You and Eris… you had thought about that but you weren’t sure if he had this type of feelings towards you. Lust wasn’t enough for someone to get married. And what would happen if Azriel found out? 
What do you think? Would you like me to continue this? Also which one do you prefer for our reader Eris or Azriel?
Requests are open!
@kalulakunundrum @amysangel
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Text
Waves (Spike x YN)
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Request: Nope. Just another concept that turned way too long. Continuation of other fics.
TW: Mentions of blood and phsyical harm.
Word Count: 2.2k
Previous | Next
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Another night of hunting. Another night covered in blood. You walked half contorted down the street, in pain after your battle. Your body was regenerating but it was still painful. How many more nights if this hell before you found peace. You would cry, like you did in the past, but there's no point. It brings no relief. So, you just hobbled home in the dead of night hoping no civilian would catch you. Cause what a horrifying sight you are.
Smoke litters the air as Spike exhales. Another night of helping the slayer. Another night of getting his ass handed to him for getting cocky around her. He wishes he wasn't infatuated with her, but life just happens. A quick thought interrupted his line of thought. The cursed slayer. He hasn't seen her in 3 days. He misses her. Now that she doesn't work at The Magic Shop it’s harder to see her. Maybe every other day he'll see her in the cemetery with Buffy or alone but never on a consistent schedule. He knows where she lives... he could visit her. He would blush if he had any blood to produce a blush. How silly is he being? Him, chasing after the cursed slayer. Ridiculous.
He trails off from the cemetery, still debating on whether to visit y/n or not. What reasons would he have for stopping by? The waltz! He offered her a dance! He stops in his tracks and shakes his head. He was being silly. No one that experienced and ancient would care to spend time with him. Even if they were friends. She was just being polite. He tried to reason with himself. He has never felt so much doubt over someone. With Buffy it was straight forward, stalk and wear her down. With y/n it’s so complicated. Like playing a game without rules.
His attention is caught by a trail of blood on the ground. He's on high alert. He follows the zig zag of blood down the street. This is the street to y/n's house. He walks faster, afraid for her safety. As he turns the corner he sees her, a macabre sight of body parts twisted and torn. He holds his breath as if he had any. He rushes to her side.
You become aware of a presence behind you. You're tired and badly hurt, but if a fight has to happen then you are ready.
"Y/n!" Spike yells after you.
The wave of relief that washes over you is insurmountable.
You barely turn as he runs up to you, worry etched on his face.
"Despite my current presentation, I'm fine." You interject before he can get a word out.
"You look like death."
"I'll survive." You try to hobble past him.
Without any warning he scoops you up into his arms, your face against his chest. You feel a blush coming on. He starts at a steady and careful pace back to your house.
"I can walk." You argue.
"Barely" he says.
You sigh. You would never admit it but you like how it feels to be taken care of. You breath in the scent if dirt and leather that clings to Spike. You stay quiet the rest of the way, contemplating how much different your life would be if you had Spike around. You wave the idea away. He belongs to Buffy and you belong to the curse, simple as that.
You reach your house, still in his arms. He gently puts you down on your feet. You're surprised by his gentle nature.
"Thank you." You smile, trying to steady yourself.
"What are friends for." He pauses for a second. "You owe me a dance." He felt like a putz bringing it up in her current state. Why did his brain short circuit around her?
You chuckle. "I haven't forgotten. Maybe next time." You turn away and walk inside your house.
As soon as the door closes, he hangs his head. What an idiot he's being! Asking for a dance when she can barely move. Might as well wear a sign that says touch starved. He walks back home, hands in his pocket, angry and embarrassed. He can still smell her blood on him, making him hungry.
The next day he was itching to see y/n again. He had to wait at the cemetery, maybe? Walk up her street? He didn't know where to locate her, simply that he had to make sure she was okay. After a while he gives up and starts to walking by y/n's street to find her sitting by the curve. She looks in pain.
He rushed to your side. You have a broken leg. You thought it would be a good idea to limp back home after your early but painful altercation with a demon. Spike crouches down to your level.
"What do we got here?" He says in a playful tone trying to hide his concern.
"You should see the other guy."
Spike frowned at seeing the damage. "Can you get up?"
"Yes. And no, you're not carrying me today. I've been taking care if myself for years and I can do it now."
"A bloody terrible job you've been doin’."
"Rude" you get up and start limping again.
Before you can get your footing Spike sweeps you up again. You protest but he hushes you. Again, incredulous. This man is sweet but is getting on your last nerve.
"Sorry love, can't let you waste away." He looks down at you. He notices how fragile you are in his arms, how good you feel so close to him, and how much power he has over you in this one moment.
He quickly looks up, trying to avoid your prodding gaze. "Tell me what happened."
"Simple. Demon had a club. I got cocky. He swung, broke my leg and I swung my sword and cut his head."
"Big fan of decapitation, I see."
"All in a night's work." You grinned.
"You say you’ve always taken care o’ yourself. Does every night end like this?"
"Most nights, yes. It’s just me and the big bad demons. I do get careless cause of the whole immortality bit."
He nods. You both reach your house. He gently puts you down on your feet. You sway and he catches you. You look up, your faces mere inches from each other. You take the time to admire his chiseled face, his sharp cheek bones and his blue eyes. All the while he enjoys getting reacquainted with the valley of your lips, and the deep hue of color in your eyes. He wonders how soft your lips really are. He pulls back at the thought and you almost stumble onto him. He steadies you, from a distance. You laugh at his reaction.
"Once again, thank you. You always seem to show up when I need you, and I appreciate that."
He nods, contemplating his next move. You turn to open, enter and close your door. However, Spike puts his foot on the door.
"I don't want you goin' our without me."
"Excuse me?" You're incredulous.
"Every time you're alone you get hurt. We can't have that now, can we? So, you're with me from now on."
You stand there speechless. Before you can retort he ends the conversation with "I'll pick you up at 9." And walks away.
The following night you wait for him, amused at how the night will turn out. A knock is heard in the distance. You open it to see Spike, your chaperone if the night.
"Good evening. Where to m'lady?"
You laugh at his antics. As you walk towards the woods you explain to Spike your goal for the night. To take down set of twin demons that have been trying to lure children to eat them. Spike is attentive and energized. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove to you that he was no sniveling child vampire. Just because there is an 800 year difference between the two of you, it doesn't mean that he's useless.
You both make it to an empty playground.
"Here?" Spike asks.
"Here." You confirm.
So, you sit and wait. Spike steals glances at you, hoping to catch your eye. He has never felt so small and shy. You turn to look at him and smile "nervous, baby boy?"
He is taken aback, speechless. Baby boy! You had some gal! He didn't know if to fight back or let you dominate him. Neither action came to fruition due to two big demons coming into view.
You stand ready, "show time, baby boy." You run up at the twin demons.
Spike needs a minute to rewire his thoughts and calm his feelings. Once reconnected he runs after you to back you up.
You both go on a head on collision with the demons. Spike is surprised at your direct approach. He can tell you're too focused on the win and not on your safety. He swoops in to play defense and keep you safe. While you work on slashing and punching, Spike works on blocking and moving you out of the way. You both work as a unit, fearless of what’s to come. Your bodies speak a language that only you two understand.
The demons are tired and bruised but you guys aren't done. Spike calls your name as he pushes one of the demons your way. Your sword is ready, and you stab into him with ease. Spike misses his cue as you call to him and the other demon attacks him, hurting him. You call to him one last time throwing your sword his way. He catches it with ease and stabs the demon multiple times. You're both triumphant.
You walk up to Spike to assess the damage.
"It's bleeding but not terrible" Spike states.
You nod and sling his arm around your shoulders. You both limp towards your house.
"Thank you. You were amazing." You compliment him.
He smirks, "You weren't half bad."
"If you hadn't been there those demons would've taken me out."
"I know" Spike smiles his shit eating grin.
You stop at your porch and Spike moves away from you. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow night" and he starts walking away.
"Wait, I'm gonna patch you up." You stop him from moving farther away from you.
He freezes. "Love, I'd have to come in..." He trails off at the prospect of being in your home.
You chuckle. "I know." You stand inside your house. "Go ahead, ask."
He couldn't believe it. Dead heart be still. "Can I come in?"
"Nah."
Spike's jaw drops. Ridiculous. He feels like storming off until he hears you laugh which makes his blood boil.
"Wait! Don't leave. I’m sorry. Ask again. Please." You say trying to get your laughter under control.
He asks again, and you say yes. And he feels all the air, if any, leave his body. He was elated and giddy.
He saunters into your home as if it was his own. He takes in the space, the furniture.
"Take a seat, I'll be right back" you point to your couch.
You bring him a cup of water and a med kit. He is humbled at your gesture. So simple yet so loving.
"Take off your shirt." You say as you look through your med kit.
"Buy me a drink first, love" he chuckles and complies.
You make an annoyed face, but it’s quickly washed off at the sight at his body. He was breathtaking. Dips and valleys hidden under hard lines of muscles. You remind yourself to breathe. You refocus and go to tending his wound. You are careful, loving as your work on him.
He admires your gentle hands, So carefully caring for him. Buffy would never. Yet y/n will always. Always. He snaps back from his reverie as you apply the anti-septic to his wound. It stings.
"All new!" You state looking at your handy work.
"Thank you..." he mumbles as he pulls his shirt down.
"My pleasure. I mean, it was a pleasure to help. I mean not that I take pleasure in seeing your hurt. I mean - " Spike places his pointer and middle finger to your lips. A firm but gentle gesture.
"I know what you mean." He smiles, a genuine one. "I have to go now. The sun is rising."
As he turns away you pull at his duster. "Stay."
He turns slowly, in surprise of what he just heard.
"Stay" you repeat. "You can stay on the couch. It’s a pull out."
He makes eye contact. He steps closer, purposefully entering your personal space. One hand distracts itself by playing with your hair. The other ghosted over yours at your side.
He knew, in that moment, that you would look out for him no matter what. The woman he got to know before he knew her as the cursed slayer was still there. The attentive eyes, the smart mouth and the loving heart. All that he needed. He refuses to let himself drown in this feeling. Not yet. He needed time before he let himself swim in your waves of love. But there was no harm in taking a dip, just for tonight.
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blueraineshadows · 10 months
Text
Yes, Professor - Part Three
Professor Sebastian Sallow x F!MC
Part One, Part Two 🔥❤️
NSFW 🔞 🔥 Things get hot 🥵
His fists were clenched in his pockets and he was tense, waiting, with MC stood there staring at him as though his head had fallen off. Maybe it had. Coming here so late at night was risky. It hadn't been too difficult to track her down, a quick scan through student records had turned up her current address, but getting past the formidable landlady had been a bit tricky. He was lucky he was charming, let's put it that way.
Still, he had kept one eye over his shoulder as he had climbed the staircases to get up here. A young man visiting an unmarried woman was rather scandalous and he didn't want to be recognised. She was his student after all. But, he hadnt been able to keep away.
"Bella had her hands on you," MC said, flatly. "It all looked rather cosy for someone who was so concerned about the rule breaking."
"Like I said, she has been pushing her luck. I have not laid a finger on her, I promise you," he said, earnestly. He attempted a smirk. "I've broken more rules with you than anyone else, and with more than one finger I might add."
"She has not been discreet in her affection for you," MC said. "She makes it painfully obvious every class."
Her blush was impressive. He just couldn't help himself. He smiled and held a hand up. "Forgive me," he said.
"I had to come, MC. Seeing you upset in class earlier today was not easy for me to watch. I wanted to come to you, but it was not the time. And then, you left so quickly afterwards before I could catch you. I am sorry you had to see her so close to me, trust me, it was not through any of my own intention."
He noted the way her mouth turned down, the way her eyes narrowed. She was jealous. The tone of her voice was dripping with it. He wasn't going to lie, that felt rather good. He risked a step closer, his booted feet on the threshold now.
"Does she know about us?" He asked. "She looked rather pleased that you had caught her in an inappropriate position."
"Is there an us?" She asked. There were hints of that vulnerability in her eyes again and his arms ached to reach out for her.
"I want there to be," he said. "Can I come in?"
Finally, she unfolded her arms and stepped to the side. She held out her hand. "Yes, you may come in, Professor."
....*....
Seeing Sebastian standing in her humble room made it look even smaller. He filled the space until there was only him. Her eyes couldn't tear themselves away, and his words of affection were still spinning around inside her head. She still couldn't shake a feeling of uncertainty though.
He could just be saying all of those things to get in the door. But it had worked. She moved to stand near her table, wand still in hand.
"I've told no-one about our...our meetings," she said. "The last thing I would ever wish to do, is get you into trouble. If Bella thinks she knows something, she didn’t get it from me. Although, she did mention that she wished you looked at her the way you look at me."
A tinge of pink coloured his cheeks. "I hadn't realised I was that obvious," he said, awkwardly.
Her lips twitched into a brief, small smile. "You do have a way of looking at someone that makes them feel a bit breathless," she admitted.
He smirked. "I hope that someone means you," he said.
She felt her stomach doing little flips and decided she needed to keep her hands busy. She cleared her throat. "I er...I can offer you a tea," she said. "I'm afraid the alcohol is all gone."
She moved towards her little stove to pick up the kettle, but Sebastian reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask and held it up.
"I've got firewhiskey, if that's any good."
She smiled. "Oo, definitely a little stronger than tea. Yes, please."
"Not feeling nervous are you?" He smirked.
He offered her the flask and she moved closer, reaching for it. Their fingers brushed and she met his gaze, heat gathering swiftly. She took a swig from the flask and handed it back, her eyes still on his. She wasn't exactly nervous, but there was certainly a tension in the room, like the kind before a storm.
As he went to take it, she didn't let go, her fingers gripping subtly to stop him. He tried again, and she fought the grin that wanted to form as his brow furrowed. One look at her teasing lips and his eyebrows quirked up playfully, his fingers shifted to graze over hers, the lightest of touches that sent a shiver down her spine.
"If you want me to touch you, MC, you need only ask," he said, his voice low and teasing.
Her breaths were coming quick and shallow. Her ache for him was so vivid that it made her hand tremble as she reached up to trail fingers along his freckled cheek. Her fingertips traced the line of his mouth, sliding to his jaw and down to his neck, his skin warm, the barest scratch of stubble under her touch stirring the already hot flame at her core.
The blaze in his eyes answered hers. It made her feel a lot bolder, along with the alcohol humming pleasantly in her veins. She fingered the collar of his coat, her thumb brushing teasing strokes against his throat.
Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "You know, I quite fancy you, Professor," she purred. "You make a girl start to imagine things, naughty things, that a student really shouldn't be picturing with her teacher."
She heard his quickened breaths and slid her hand down to pop the first button on his dark coat. He swallowed. "What kind of naughty things?" He asked. His smirk was delicious, as always.
She undid the next button. "Oh, Sir, I couldn't possibly say," she said. She tilted her head a little, playing shy. "That would make me a very bad girl. I wouldn't want to make you punish me, Sir."
His eyes flashed dangerously and she felt the tightening in her thighs as she throbbed with answering desire. He had got a kick out of her calling him Sir in the Restricted Section, and she knew how he loved to play, to tease. She was curious if he could take a bit of teasing back.
She was playing with fire, she could tell, but she had never been scared of fire, and Sebastian had taught her all the best fiery spells at school. He was the only boy, the only man, to stir a fire in her heart, and she wanted him, wanted him so much it was a physical ache.
"I would say you're being rather naughty right now, Miss MC," he warned. He looked down as she released the last button and opened the front of his coat to reveal the shirt and waistcoat underneath. Her fingers smoothed down the silk of his tie, sliding it up and out of said waistcoat, her teeth biting softly into her lower lip as she tugged him ever so slightly closer with it.
"Do you like naughty girls, Sir?" She tilted her head back, her eyes on his lips. "I could be naughty for you, if that's what you would like."
Her words were breathless, her heart pounding. She had never felt so wanton in all her life. The way he was looking at her was making her feel seriously damp between her thighs, and she released a soft sigh.
"You've got me curious, MC," he said. He leant his head down until their mouths were so close, the tip of his nose could graze hers if they so wished. "Just how naughty are you prepared to be?"
She moved as though to kiss him, but held back before their lips could actually touch. "I'm prepared to be as naughty as you would like, Sir. I merely wish to please you, to be your naughty girl. Would you like that, Sir?" Her words were the barest whisper against his mouth.
"Fuck," he groaned. He seized her in his grip, his hands at her waist before sliding down to hold her hips. His mouth claimed hers in a possessive kiss, his full lower lip sitting deliciously between both of hers, and she parted them eagerly, wanting him, all of him.
As they kissed, deep, hungry kisses that sounded wet and erotic in her tiny room, she shoved his coat from his shoulders. It tumbled to the floor, forgotten as he pulled her against him, their bodies now flush and writhing.
His hands urged her hips to grind against him, and she felt that hardness, that desperate need of his that made her ache deep inside. She moaned and rubbed herself against it. "Mmm, is that all for me, Sir?"
His choked moan made her chuckle, but then his hand was gripping her jaw, holding her tightly to make her look up at him.
"You're walking a fine line, MC," he warned. She stared up into his eyes, the depths of which were dark, blazing and glittering dangerously. She shivered, her pulse fluttering. "Keep teasing me like that and I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you until you scream, do you understand me?"
The flare of lust in her belly was white hot, the image he presented making her tremble, and a moan slipped from her mouth. She had no idea where her boldness was coming from, but she stared right at him as she spoke her next words. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Professor."
She was lifted clear off her feet, and she sucked in a breath that was dispelled as a cry as he made good on his word. She landed on her mattress on her back and he was immediately on top of her, his mouth demanding, his fingers gripping at her blouse and tugging it sharply out of her waistband. He sat back on his knees, gripped each side of the neat row of pearl buttons and yanked, the sound of tearing fabric and scattering buttons a shock to her ears.
"Sebastian!" She cried.
He put a hand to her throat, not hard, but firm enough to hold her there against the bed. "I did warn you," he said, eyes flashing. He was breathing so hard, but he stilled, looking down at her. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and I will."
"No, no...please," she whimpered. She shook her head. There was no way she could stop now.
Desire darkened his gaze as the hand at her throat slowly slid downwards, fingers splayed, his eyes following the possessive touch as it dragged between her breasts and over her stomach to the waistband of her skirt. Her chest heaved under his touch, small whimpers spilling from her lips, her need desperate and visceral.
He made quick work of the skirt, stripping it from her and tossing it aside before sliding his palms up each leg. She had high stockings on, his fingers curled around their tops and he slid them downwards, achingly slow, bending to press the softest of kisses on her inner knee, lower, his tongue teasing at her inner thigh.
She could barely breathe, eyes wide as she watched him remove every last piece of clothing until she was laid bare below him. His eyes feasted on her flesh and he shook his head slowly. "So beautiful," he whispered.
She almost felt emotional at the way he looked at her. Shyness stole over her and she moved to cover herself, but he caught her wrists. "Don't hide," he said. "Trust me, you don't need to hide from me."
With one hand, he pinned her arms above her head and bent to kiss her. Soft, teasing kisses, his tongue flicking and driving her towards desperation. She arched, needing him and he smiled against her mouth. "Tell me what you want," he murmured.
"You," she whined. "Please..."
He released her arms, kneeling up to begin removing his waistcoat. She watched his fingers as they worked and then sat up to help him, her eyes glancing up to meet his. They shared a smile, loaded with everything that required no words to say. Mutual want, mutual feelings of anticipation.
This should have happened years ago. She had always been his. Why had she hidden from him for so long?
"I love you," she whispered.
He stilled, eyes locking with hers. His shirt was undone, a glimpse of chest visible, a smattering of hair that was begging for her touch. He cupped her face with his hands, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks.
"I love you, too," he said.
His kiss tried to convey the sentiment, and she responded in kind. It was a frantic rush to rid him of the rest of his clothes, and then it was her turn to admire the lines of his body. She bit her lip at the muscle tone in his arms and shoulders, the jut of his hips, her fingers trailing through the soft hair on his chest and down over his stomach.
She pressed her mouth against his skin, as delightfully freckled as his face, breathing in deeply that scent of what she thought of as home. She was almost delirious as she kissed him wherever she could get her mouth, his throat, his shoulders, her hands sliding up the smoothness of his back.
Their moans and sighs entwined, her eyes closing in bliss as his mouth claimed a breast, tongue teasing the peaks into hard nubs only for him to blow softly against them, making her back arch and her fingers tug at the dishevelled hair on his head.
When his hand moved between her thighs, she bit her lip in anticipation, memories of the blissful high he had brought her to in the Restricted Section flooding her mind. Then, he guided her hand down to his arousal, her fingers sliding over the swollen heat of him, exploring an unknown. Together, they teased and pleasured until she was whimpering, begging him.
Sebastian pushed her thighs wider and settled between them, lining himself up. She looked down, a little nervous and he must have caught the look in her eye. He captured her chin, kissing her softly. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "I...I've never..."
He smoothed her hair back from her face. "Eyes on me," he said, softly. "Relax, as much as you can, and tell me if it hurts. I'll stop."
"I trust you," she whispered.
He kissed her, slowly, deeply, his fingers working her gently until she was moaning into his mouth. When she felt the first thick press of him against her, she tensed. He stopped and pressed soft kisses down to her neck, tongue curling around the shell of her ear. "It's alright, I've got you," he whispered. She shivered and took a calming breath, his words a balm to her nerves. "You're doing so well."
He pushed a little harder and she winced at the stretch, he slid back a little and then pushed again. The stretch felt like deep pressure, but then as he continued to pull back and then push, she felt the delicious slide of him, and a low sound came from her throat.
Her fingers bit into the flesh of his lower back. "Oh...yes...Sebastian," she moaned.
He bit into her neck, sucking deeply, a low moan in his throat as he slid the deepest he could go. She gasped at the fullness, the delicious stretch and the utter completeness of being one with him.
He nuzzled his nose against her, soft kisses and teasing nips back up to her mouth. "Not so much a naughty girl, but more like my good girl," he said. "You feel so perfect. Are you alright?"
She held his face against hers and nodded. "Amazing," she breathed.
He looked at her, his desire hot and fierce in his eyes. "Are you ready?"
He flexed his hips and she gasped, hips instinctively lifting as a wave of heat rolled through her. She bit her lip. "I'm ready."
He began to move, rolling his hips, thrusting to a steady rhythm and she moaned, hands holding on to him. He gradually began to pick up the pace, his own pleasure evident on his face and from the sounds falling from his lips.
MC could feel the pleasure building, her hands urging him to be faster, her pelvis having an unbearable urge to bear down. She felt her cheeks flushing, the erotic sounds of slapping skin, their grunts and cries, the harsh breaths and the rhythmic squeak of her bed, it all added to the steady build of her pleasure.
Sebastian looked down between them, watching as he fucked her, lips parted. "So fucking good," he groaned. He shifted slightly, bearing his weight onto one elbow, angling his hips, MC's cries became louder as he pushed her thigh up and outwards. She flung out a hand to grip her bedspread, her knuckles turning white as he pounded against a sweet spot.
"Oh, gods, Seb..."
"You're mine," he ground out between his teeth. He fucked even harder, sweat beading on his brow. "Say it...fucking say it. You're mine."
She could barely breathe, let alone speak, but somehow she managed to pant the words out. "I'm yours... all yours...Sir."
The sound he made sent her spinning off the edge of reality, her release slammed into her and she felt the tight clench, her toes curling. He joined her, head thrown back as she felt the deep throb of his release, his hand gripping her hip, hard.
They lay in a tangle of limbs, breathing beginning to settle, her face buried against his neck. She clung to him, skin against skin, and she could feel the steady thrum of his heart.
How was she ever going to let him go?
....*....
He sat at her little table and sipped at the mug of tea he had quietly made. MC was asleep in the bed, her hair delightfully dishevelled against the pillow. He could see the marks his mouth had left on her neck, and he knew she was naked underneath those blankets. He resisted the urge to wake her with kisses and claim her again.
But it wasn't easy.
His gaze dropped to the stack of papers on the table. He could see her work from his classes, but beside it were Muggle news articles about the archeology discoveries in Egypt, pamphlets from the Wizarding World about ancient history locations in America and Europe. There was even a notebook with locations and transport options written in her own hand.
His heart clenched. She was going to leave again.
How could he ever ask her to stay when it was what she loved? She had told him that she loved him last night, but was it enough for her? Was he enough for her?
It was one of the reasons he hadn't woken her yet. Maybe she would be distant and ask him to leave, regretting letting him into her bed. So he sat, and sipped at his tea, and admired her as she slept, making the most of this beautiful sight in case it was to be taken away from him.
....*....
The mattress dipped and she felt gentle fingers on her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open and Sebastian smiled down at her, morning sunlight filtering through the curtain to put golden flecks in his hair. She took a beat to savour the view. He really was so perfect.
"I'm sorry to wake you," he said. "But, I made you some tea to soften the moment."
She sat up and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her muscles felt stiff and there was an ache between her thighs, but for a wonderful reason. Sebastian had put his trousers on, but his top half was wonderfully bare. She reached for him, her hand curling around his neck. "The tea can wait," she said.
She pulled him down to her, making him chuckle as she wrapped herself around him, rubbing her nose against his. She met his eyes and smiled. "Mmm, yes. I still love you," she said. "It wasn't a dream"
"Definitely not a dream," he said. He kissed her, once, twice, and she slid her hands into his hair, arching up against him. He hummed in approval, but he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. "I should be leaving to get back and change. I have classes to teach."
She pouted. "But, I'm feeling all naughty."
He laughed and cupped her face. "I'm going to have to ask you to hold that thought," he said. "At least until after classes."
She smirked and gripped him, rolling them until she was on top of him. She kissed his neck, humming in delight as his hands held her hips.
"MC..." His plea was weak and she writhed against him.
"I'm not letting you go until you fuck me," she said. "How's that for being a naughty girl?"
His grin was wicked and she yelped as he slapped her bare behind. "You'd best get my trousers off then, my love," he said. "Naughty and naked is much more fun."
....*....
If she had thought classes were loaded with distraction before, she had been utterly clueless, because now it was torture.
Watching Sebastian move about the room, his hands that delighted her flesh gesturing, his lips that had left marks of passion on her skin speaking, her eyes hungrily taking in everything about him, it was beyond distracting.
She had clenched her thighs so many times they ached. Now that she'd had him in her bed, her hunger had only increased. She wanted more.
When the lesson came to an end, MC gathered her things and walked to his desk. Bella, no longer her seat companion, had been about to do the same, her face dropping a little when she saw that MC had beaten her to it.
There was no need for smugness or pettiness. But, inside, MC couldn't help but gloat happily. Her eyes lingered over her professor as he shuffled his notes neatly into a file, his smile warm as he looked up at her. "And what may I do for you, Miss MC?"
Oh professor, how long have you got?
....*....
MC lay on her stomach, propped on her elbows, her eyes on the book open in front of her. The summer sun was dappling through the trees in the city park, a slight breeze ruffling her hair, and she placed a hand down to prevent her page from flipping over.
The warm press of a shoulder moved against her and she turned her head to meet with smiling brown eyes. She smirked and leaned forward to press a kiss to Sebastian's freckled nose.
Four months. Four blissful months of loving him, of sharing his bed, months that had bled into one long, dizzying love affair. Now that classes were over for the summer, she truly had him all to herself. No more sneaking around. He was no longer her professor, although she still called him Sir when the mood took her, it never failed to awaken that dark fire in his eyes.
He shifted to rummage in his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, he roughly smoothed it out and slipped it into the top of the page she had been reading. There was an odd look in his gaze, unusual for him compared to his more common cheeky confidence. He looked nervous.
Curious, she glanced down at the parchment. It was headed MACUSA paperwork, and her eyes quickly scanned the letter inked beneath the official logo. She gasped, her gaze flying to his.
"No!" She pushed with her hands to sit up, her eyes wide as she looked at him. "Merlin..."
He sat up too, his cheeks turning a little pink as he nodded. "Yes, MC," he said. "What do you think?"
Tears stung her eyes. She hadn't thought it possible to love him more. She looked down at the letter, a formal offer to join the magical research team in Boston, America. They thought that Professor Sallow showed the necessary skill set to be a valuable member of their team, a team that would be taking part in field research throughout the northern states of ancient magical sites.
Those damned tears blurred her eyes and she swiped swiped at them. "I can't believe it!" She said. "How...?"
He smirked. "I have my ways."
She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly, the letter still clutched in her hand. Her love and pride for him swallowing her up.
He held her close, his face buried into her neck. "Did you read the last paragraph?"
She pulled back, wiping more tears from her cheeks and shook her head. She had not got that far. He plucked the letter from her fingers with a smug smirk and straightened it with a flourish.
"Allow me," he said. He popped his spectacles on and began to read aloud. "Further to our most recent conversation, it is our utmost pleasure to agree that Miss MC would be a fine addition to the team as your assistant. Her wealth of talent and experience would be invaluable, not to mention the impressive scores in her recent examinations on the subject. We shall be writing to her with an offer to join us at the earliest convenience."
MC had her hands over her mouth as Sebastian read those words, her mind spinning, her heart bursting. He smiled and folded the parchment and slipped it back into his pocket.
"Now, we can travel together, both of us doing the research, but also, you can search out your Ancient Magic hotspots as we go," he said. And then he looked really nervous. "But that's not all..."
He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Her eyes couldn't get any wider, surely. "Sebastian..." She gasped. "What are you..."
"How do you feel about travelling America as my wife?" He asked. He opened the velvet box to reveal a beautiful white gold ring with a square cut diamond.
She was openly crying now. Hers, he would be hers, forever. "Yes," she sobbed, immediately. She scrambled closer to him, her hands clutching at his shirt in her attempts to pull him close. "I will absolutely be your wife!"
He kissed her, his own eyes shining with unshed tears, and she clung to him, pressing untold amounts of kisses to his face. And then, he was sliding that diamond onto her finger, a promise for their future together.
When she looked into Sebastian's eyes, she knew she was home, he would always be her home, wherever they were in the world.
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hot-soop · 5 months
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don't let me tempt you / ch.2
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pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: angels & demons ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter), lite angst ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate, it's crack Good Omens style nonsense. Author is an atheist. Swearing. Drinking. Implications of loss of faith. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort ⇢ a/n: thank uuuuuu @ugh-yoongi for reading this over, i adore you
chapter 1 here
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chapter 2
736 BC
August 12th. 6:13pm. Sunshine.
It’s been ninety-one years and twenty-six visits to Earth since your first cup of tea. Since then Seokjin has shown you could enjoy so many more earthly pleasures than you thought possible. He makes an effort to show you something new every time you visit, and humans, as it turns out, are so much more creative than angels give them credit for. You’re really starting to enjoy it here. Every time, you wish you could stay longer. And so you learned you could convince Turiel to add routine patrols on all your banishments - by all accounts you’re only ever visiting Earth on ‘Official Business’. 
(‘Managed to convince’ isn’t really the right turn of phrase, more like you briefly floated the idea and Turiel near bit your hand off to add more to your workload.)
Of course the visits mean more reports in theory, but truth be told there aren’t that many banishments to keep on top of, and you spend far less time with the other banished angels than anyone else need know. That isn’t the case for Seokjin’s visits. No, you could spend an entire day in his company and feel like it’s been no time at all. For those reports alone, you need to twist the truth. 
Your stomach growls and Seokjin tuts. 
“If you didn’t wait thirteen years between visits,” he grumbles. “Your stomach wouldn’t be so loud.”
You open your mouth to say that the only reason you have any interest in Earth is because of Seokjin and his friends (though maybe by now they count as yours too, it’s something you’ll have to ask Taehyung) but the sour look on his face gives you pause.
(Ah yes. Taehyung. Your readers will probably be wondering why he’s still alive. Well, they all are. As it turns out the change from human to vampire was irreversible, and all Seokjin had been able to do was make it so they’re not quite as immortal as angels and demons are. In short - one could kill the three of them with a stake to the heart, if they should wish. When you found out Seokjin had omitted the truth (his words) about their lack of demise, that had been the biggest (and only) argument you’ve had in the centuries you’ve known him. Jimin had cried. It was very embarrassing.
Of course, you’d moved past it, because there was little to be done to change anything, and you actually rather like the company of the vampire trio. Yoongi is another anomaly, he should be dead too, and he kind of- he sort of is. Seokjin calls him a ghoul. But having met him, you can’t say he’s as evil as the handbooks make ghouls out to be. A grouch, definitely, but you can see why Seokjin likes to keep him around. 
Anyway, the point of this opening was not Seokjin’s lie of omission. The point is Seokjin’s current disposition.)
“Why are you in such a mood?”
“I’m not in a mood,” Seokjin shoots back.
“You are,” you counter. 
“Am not.” 
“Are too.”
Seokjin flicks you on the forehead. 
“Ow!”
“Please stop,” snaps Namjoon from the corner of the room. “Some of us are trying to study.”
You crane your neck to spy on the book he’s reading. Heraclitian Philosophy. 
Seokjin notices you looking. “Namjoon fancies himself as one of the new age philosophers,” he whispers. “He won’t listen but I keep telling him they’re a bunch of miserable fu-”
“I can hear you,” says Namjoon, pointedly.
You and Seokjin share a private smile.
“We missed you,” he murmurs.
“Missed you too,” you say, cheerfully. 
You dip a spoon into the pot Seokjin is standing over, and he chastises you for tasting too early (it’s not ready, so he says) but it’s so good that you can’t help yourself. 
“Mmm,” you hum, appreciative. “My favourite.”
He’s strawberry red again. 
“Where do strawberries grow?” you ask.
Seokjin laughs. “You always ask such weird questions.”
You bonk him on the head with your spoon. 
“Answer please.”
“Dunno,” says Seokjin with a shrug. “I haven’t seen any here.”
“In Europe!” Namjoon calls over.
“Thank you!” you shout back.
“Why do you ask?” says Seokjin.
“I want to try one.”
He tilts his head, a curious puppy if you ever saw one. 
“I invented them,” you answer his unasked question.
“You?”
You frown. “Yes, me.”
“You made food?”
“I made lots of things.”
“But you didn’t try anything?”
“Well why would I? I made lovely things in pretty colours just like they asked and sent them off to Agriculture.”
Seokjin smiles sardonically, saying, “such a good little angel, aren’t you?”
You beam even though it’s a non-compliment, and Seokjin rolls his eyes, but this time the look in his eye is one of affection.
“What else did you invent?” Seokjin asks, and off you go, listing all the things in your roster until you lose your breath. 
After dinner, Namjoon goes out to meet the others for a dinner of their own, leaving you and Seokjin sitting in front of an open window, sipping tea and catching up on the happenings over the last decade. 
Seokjin seems down. He leaves his tea to go cold and picks at loose threads on his tunic.
After a while, you ask, “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” 
Your friend’s face falls into a dejected pout. “Time’s almost up,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Thirty years left and I’ve hardly been anywhere. Hardly seen a thing.”
Seokjin always claims he’s not sentimental, but you look at the home he’s built for himself, the friends he keeps, the trinkets that adorn the room, some four-hundred years old, and you deduce that there is little truth to that statement. What he isn’t is someone who tends to feel sorry for himself. 
It’s unsettling, seeing him like this. 
“It’ll be okay,” you tell him. “Once you’re back home you’ll have your miracles, and you can have all of this and more in Heaven.”
Seokjin rolls his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I’ll be there too,” you tack on.
His responding smile is a little pitiful, but a smile is a smile, and if that’s all he’s got, you’ll take it.
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729 BC
January 28th. 6:56pm. Snowing.
Taehyung says he’s invented a game. It’s called truth or dare, and the objective is to tell the truth when you’re asked a question, or do something at the other player's request. Despite asking on several occasions, there seems to be no clear rules on how to win.
“This isn’t a criticism of your creativity, Taehyung,” you say gently. “But it seems as if there’s no real point in playing if your point scoring system is flawed.”
Taehyung stares at you. Jimin hides a laugh behind his hand.
“How do we know when to end the game if there’s no objective winner?” you ask.
They ignore you, and Namjoon suggests it would be better to write down the dares and questions and draw them from different jars. For yours, you write down things like eat exactly 2/7ths of an apple and what time is it?
Jimin pours drinks, because apparently there’s also ‘forfeits’ in the form of ‘taking a shot’ if you can’t answer truthfully or complete a dare, but you can’t imagine why either thing would be such difficult tasks to complete. 
“Why would I lie, though?” you ask again. “It’s my job to be divine.”
“You’ve lied for me on more than a hundred occasions,” Seokjin reminds you.
 “Nonsense,” you say, haughtily. “That was for the greater good.”
Jimin and Taehyung share a funny look.
Namjoon coughs. “Shall we just play?”
You grumble something about rules being made to be followed that the others pointedly ignore, and Yoongi is the first to draw from the dare pile, and Taehyung- who is reading over his shoulder- shrieks.
Run naked to the end of the street and back <3
Oh. 
Yoongi turns as red as a ghoul can go (which is to say, not very) and says he’s glad he can turn invisible, and promptly disappears from view. The only suggestion that he even leaves the room is the door opening and closing.  Jimin says pointedly that he bets Yoongi is still in the room, but a minute later the door goes again, and Yoongi appears once more at the table, pink-cheeked and panting. Jimin scowls like a child and calls him a spoilsport.
The game continues in this vein until Namjoon gets your dare.
“Put on socks?” he says, confused.
“Yes!” You nod. “It’s very cold.”
Seokjin laughs. “You really are an angel.”
You beam at him.
Namjoon goes to find socks.
“Stop making googly eyes at each other,” says an exasperated Jimin. “I’m bored.”
Taehyung nudges the jars toward Seokjin. “Your turn.”
He makes a drawn out show of searching for the best one while not actually looking, claiming he can tell who wrote it by the way they folded the paper. He pulls out one he says was ‘obviously’ written by Yoongi, but by the gleeful look on Jimin’s face, you wonder if it was really him.
“Kiss your favourite person in the room,” reads Seokjin. He stares very hard at the paper. He’s not even blinking.
Taehyung and Jimin break the silence with a giggle. Namjoon is back, with more socks on, and his eyes dart between you and Seokjin. And now your eyes have turned into curious little fiends too, looking from Seokjin to the paper to Seokjin to the paper, to your hands, which are suddenly very interesting for no reason at all.
Seokjin looks at you for a long time. Seokjin turns red. And then Seokjin kisses Yoongi on the cheek.
“Forfeit!” yells Namjoon.
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723 BC
March 9th. 8:02pm. A little chilly, but not unpleasantly so.
Today, the cold weather has you craving kimchi jjigae, and Seokjin has only complained three-hundred times about it. He says he made a table full of food, he asks why you can’t wait until everyone else arrives, he says of course you’d want the one thing he hadn’t made. He makes it anyway, and mutters that none of his other friends are as demanding nor as needy, including Taehyung. 
The reason for the sheer amount of food adorning the table is because today is Yoongi’s birthday, and Seokjin is throwing him a party. Even though he’s sort of dead… and doesn’t need to eat. (It’s both pointless and confusing.)
You sit in front of the fire, bowl of jjigae warming your belly, kicking your legs contentedly while you wait for the guests to arrive. 
Seokjin is anxious. He adjusts the position of the furniture six times. He wipes over his ornaments twice. He sweeps the floor three times and shoots you a glare when you try to help by using a little miracle to evaporate every speck of dust in the entire house. Normally he appreciates the privilege your miracles bring, since he lost access to his own, not tonight apparently. At first you attribute his sour mood to the idea of people he hardly knows invading his space, because while Yoongi is the quietest being you’ve ever known, he’s somehow friends with everyone in a twenty-mile radius. But Seokjin has hosted before - it’s nothing unusual for him to play host for others and dissolve into the background once everyone starts enjoying themselves. 
No. Something else is going on here.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.
“Talk about what?” Seokjin mutters with a scowl, distracted by fussing over a china pot that’s apparently three millimetres out of place. 
“Whatever it is that has you acting like you’re not enjoying my company.”
Seokjin looks up at you, expression unreadable. The silence hangs uncomfortably until it’s interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It’s the first guests, bringing with them gifts of food and wine. 
People filter in quickly after that. You don’t know many, but those you recognise offer a friendly hello or a polite bow in your direction. You tend to keep your distance from most people, at least those who don’t know your true identity as an Angel of the Lord, but you do enjoy their idle chatter. It’s ever so interesting, the matters that concern them, the small things that bring them joy in their (without any disrespect) insignificant lives. You’d tried engaging a human in conversation once, at a market Seokjin brought you to, but Taehyung had laughed and suggested you needed more practice interacting with people. After that you lost your confidence. 
Perhaps tonight could be another opportunity, if Seokjin has enough wine to make his guests less suspicious. 
You jump up, fetching bottles and cups from the other room and passing them around with a smile. The humans accept them gratefully. There’s nothing like alcohol to get people talking. Thirty minutes later the room is full, and loud, and everyone is on (at least) their third drink. With a wave of your hand, the guests' cups are refilled, and thankfully it’s only Seokjin that seems to notice. He waves you over from the other side.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Helping,” you say.
“We don’t need to get everyone drunk before he arrives.” He stares at the door.
“I don’t think Yoongi would mind,” you say. “Hasn’t he been half-drunk every time I’ve seen him?”
“Oh, not him,” Seokjin says absent-mindedly.
You frown.
“Who then?”
Just then, the door bursts open and a dishevelled Yoongi is carried through on the shoulders of Taehyung and Jimin, with a panicked Namjoon following closely behind - hands outstretched as if that would help Yoongi if he were to fall. 
Everyone cheers. Someone pours them a drink. Seokjin continues to stare at the door.
Weird.
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After leaving Seokjin to his own devices you decide to work the room and quickly discover how right you were about the alcohol. It’s been forty-five minutes and you can’t escape a man who doesn’t seem to know whose birthday it is, but is very glad for the opportunity to talk about his herd of goats and all the trouble he’s having with one particular fox. 
“I wouldn’t mind if it was a one off but it seems like the bastard has it out for me.” 
“That’s terrible.” You commiserate, trying to look interested while scanning the room in search of an out. The few people you know well enough to call for help from are otherwise occupied. Taehyung is pouring wine into Jimin’s open mouth. Yoongi and Namjoon are sitting around the table deep in conversation with an elderly woman and her husband. 
“-usually one a day,” he says, slurring his words. “Sometimes two!” 
“Awful,” you agree.
Seokjin is standing by the door, face impassive, talking out of the corner of his mouth to a man who wasn’t here earlier. He’s impossibly tall, doesn’t look like anyone else in the room, all sallow skin and sunken eyes. Seokjin has a wrinkle in his nose suggesting there’s a bad smell nearby. You’d bet your immortal soul it’s the man next to him.
“-at this point it’d take a bloody miracle to save my herd-”
“A miracle,” you echo, hardly listening, too busy looking at how the man holds out his hand. The eager gleam in his hollow eyes. How Seokjin’s lips curl with distaste but he shakes his hand anyway.
“I’m fucked if it carries on,” your companion says, voice breaking.
 “Yeah,” you breathe. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. “Fucked.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes, me too,” you say. “I’ve just got to- uh- go… Over there.” And you’re weaving through the people in the room to get to Seokjin and the stranger who has your hackles raised like no one else has had in centuries.
“Seokjin!” you say with false brightness, smile tight. “Who’s your friend?”
Seokjin turns to you, eyes wide and desperate.
“Not now,” he whispers. “Please.”
You stand firm, undeterred. “I’m Seokjin’s friend-” 
And then the man turns his glare on you, and you see it. You smell it. 
A demon.
You can hardly contain your gasp. 
The demon grins. His teeth are unbrushed. “The angel says she’s your friend, Seokjin, and you haven’t told her what you’ve been doing? Who you’ve been talking to. Tut tut.”
Your gaze snaps to Seokjin who looks like he’s about to be sick.
“Told me what?”
“Not now,” Seokjin snaps. 
You’ve never seen him like it, not once in three centuries. Face suddenly hard and unmoving. Not even during your fight about his friend's lack of mortality. The pit in your stomach grows. Something horrible is happening and you can’t figure it out. 
“Go home,” he says, resigned. “We’ll talk later.”
“But it’s Yoongi’s birthday-” you start, but the hard line of Seokjin’s lips tell you your argument is pointless.
“He’s my friend, Angel,” he says, voice raising enough to attract a few looks from the people nearby. “Mine. Not yours. Go.”
Seokjin shouts. Shouts often, in fact. A drama queen if one ever existed. But Seokjin doesn’t shout at you. Not like that. One last wary glance between your friend and the demon at his shoulder, and you’re back at your desk wondering what in Heaven just happened.
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723 BC
March 10th. 6:42am. Cold. Uncomfortably so, but perhaps that’s just the vibe in the room.
Seokjin doesn’t notice you’re back. But then he is fast asleep in his chair, several empty bottles at his feet. There’s drool running down his chin.
“Wake up,” you say. The miracle helps him along with stirring. You’re impatient this morning. He blinks awake, and upon seeing you standing above him, he groans.
“M’too drunk for this righnow.”
“Then sober up.”
Seokjin scowls and slurs in an accusatory tone, “you took my miracles, remember? You’ll hav-to wait for me to do it the human way.” He’s very green. “Pass me a bucket won’t you, m’gonna be sick.”
You arch an eyebrow, thoroughly disgruntled, and he groans louder as the alcohol dissipates from his bloodstream.
Now sheepish, Seokjin straightens up awkwardly. He doesn’t look at you.
“I don’t care for the way you treated me last night,” you begin. 
Seokjin nods.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“I also don’t care for your meeting with demons.”
Seokjin shifts awkwardly, rubs at his forehead, but the apology you expected is noticeably absent.
You suck in a breath. “Aren’t you going to explain?”
He nudges one of the bottles on the ground with his toe, watching it turn on its side, letting the silence hang heavy around you.
After a minute, you can’t bear it any longer. “Seok-”
“Can’t you see I’m miserable?” he cuts in. 
You sigh. “Well, yes I had noticed.”
You know it’s been a long time since he’s been home, there’s bound to be some apprehension about returning. But you’ll be there too. You’ve got sway with the committee now that you’ve been “putting in the work” with the banished angels, you can put in a good word for him, get him into a position that gives him more freedom to visit Earth now and then. You explain all this, but Seokjin shakes his head, but apparently that wasn’t a good idea because he holds it in his hands and groans.
“Angel, you don’t get it,” he snaps. “Why would I want to go back? Back to that place where they only give a shit about one corner of the world-”
“That’s not true-” you interject.
“It is true,” Seokjin insists. “The past four-thousand years it’s been Jerusalem this, Jerusalem that. Bethlehem and Jordan and Egypt.”
“They’re great places!”
“Yes, but everywhere else is great too. What makes one place better than the rest? What was the point of making all of this beauty if the one book of any importance doesn’t talk about it? If it’s just going to be gone-” He snaps his fingers. “-in two thousand years. All anyone goes on about is Noah, and Abraham, and Joseph and his stupid fucking coat! What is the point of me? Of us?”
“It’s in the plan-”
“Oh- who cares about a coat? What could the plan possibly say about that?” Seokjin is standing now, red faced and pulling at his hair. “What about these people?” He’s raising his voice again. “These people here? The people on the other side of the world? Where are their stories? Why isn’t anyone writing about them?”
“They will!”
“When?” 
You don’t know. You don’t know anything. 
“When it’s significant!”
“Isn’t everyone significant? Isn’t that the point?”
Yes. Yes and no. They’re obviously significant to each other, but not necessarily in the grand scheme of things. Seokjin doesn’t like that answer. His frown deepens when you suggest his faith is being tested.
“That was the stupidest idea they could’ve come up with,” Seokjin rants. “the notion of testing and tempting. No one can live without breaking one of these ridiculous made up rules or else our souls be damned for eternity. What’s the point? Be miserable for your entire life or be miserable for eternity. Can’t anyone enjoy anything without worrying for their immortal soul?”
“I don’t like this conversation,” you say.
“Of course you don’t,” says Seokjin bluntly. “Makes you uncomfortable, does it? You know I have a point and you don’t like thinking badly of our Heavenly Mother.”
You frown. “I’m not thinking badly of Her. It’s just- I don’t know. I don’t like it when you make me question things. We’re made to obey.” 
Seokjin scoffs. His eyes are so unusually cold. “I don’t want to obey.”
Your breath catches.
“What are you saying?” 
Seokjin hesitates. There’s a moment where you think he won’t say it, but then - “I hate it up there, Angel,” he says, and your throat goes dry and tight and uncomfortable as you remember the way the demon’s tongue rolled around the word angel, how it’s so different from the way Seokjin addresses you. You recognise the demon now, know him for exactly who he is and what he did to your friend. Leviathan, Prince of the Seraphim, tempting mankind and angels alike into heresy.
“You can’t seriously want to join their side?”
Seokjin’s face goes tight. “Of course I don’t. I want to be on my own side.”
There’s a beat of silence. 
You stare at one another.
“I’m not going back,” he says, brows knitting together.
“You have to.” 
“Angel-” he says it gently, with a tenderness so at odds with the way he spoke only moments before. “I can’t. I won’t be a hypocrite.”
“No-” you shake your head, reaching out and taking his hands in yours. He stares at you, confused by your insistence and your tears threaten to spill over. “Seokjin you don’t understand- if you don’t go back, they’ll know, they’ll kill you for defecting-”
“They can’t-”
“They can,” you insist. “Holy fire.”
Seokjin pales. 
“You haven’t got your miracles. You can’t survive it.”
He drops your hands. Sinks into the chair behind him and stares blankly at the wall. 
“Come back when you’re called, Seokjin,” you say, resolute. “For my sake.”
His eyes flit to meet yours. 
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
“It won’t be as bad as you think,” you say desperately, but you don’t know who you’re trying to convince at this point. It might be your home but Seokjin has never liked the way it’s run. But he’ll be safe, and that’s what matters. “I’ll help you.”
Seokjin smiles weakly. “Alright, Angel.” 
“Another thing I don’t care for is the way you’re calling me Angel.”
“Why?”
You reach out, pick a loose thread from the shoulder of his tunic. “It implies we’re too different.”
“Aren’t we different?” he says. 
He’s not looking at you. Instead his absent gaze is turned into the empty fireplace, staring at the ash left over from the night before.
“Not in that sense.”
Seokjin’s lips twist in a way that silently says not yet.
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gingerjunhan · 5 months
Note
Hi! It's 🍞 anon again! I LOVED the smau.. it was perfect 🥹
Would you be willing to do a little hurt/comfort fic with Jungsu based on his text?
Thank you!! 💛
☆彡 Hi 🍞anon! I’m glad you liked your request! Thank you sm for the love! 🩷
word count: 881 | pronouns used: none | genre: hurt/comfort, established relationship | cws: Jungsu is sad, long distance relationship, Gunil and Hyeongjun mentioned (literally one time), “bubs” is used (sorry if that’s cringe), lmk if I missed anything!
part one here!
You eagerly waited for Jungsu to pick up the phone, feeling the need to check up on him. After the small exchange you had over text, you had the feeling that he really needed to hear from you. As you listened to the phone ring, you started to go through your nighttime routine. Right as you finished putting on some comfier clothes, Jungsu answered the phone.
“Good morning, sunshine,” you sang into the phone, smiling to yourself. It was still rather early for Jungsu, so you thought you would try to lighten his mood with a joke.
He let out what could’ve been a laugh or a sigh on the other end of the phone, “Hi, baby.” The sad tone of his voice was hard to miss, and it caused you to frown.
“What’s wrong, bub?” Another sigh emits from the phone. “Long day ahead?”
Jungsu nodded on the other end of the phone as if you could see him. “I just… I wish you were here.”
“I know,” your frown grew. “But we only have a few more weeks until I can come see you again!” There was a silence on the other end of the phone, and you could’ve sworn you heard a sniffle. “Jungsu? What’s wrong?”
The sniffles grew a little more frequent. “I miss you,” he whispered quietly.
If your heart wasn’t already broken, you were currently feeling it shatter. Jungsu being upset was one thing, but him being this upset and knowing that there was nothing you could do to make him feel better was a completely different thing. You felt your bottom lip jut out slightly. “I know, bub- I miss you too! I miss you so much.”
On the other end of the phone, Jungsu sat in a ball on his mattress, wiping away the tears that had started to spill. He’s not sure what’s come over him lately. He could typically handle your long distance relationship just fine. He obviously missed you, but this time just seemed worse. He blamed it on the fact that you had come to visit while you had an extended break from work, and his brain still couldn’t wrap itself around the idea that you were gone. Jungsu had been counting the days until he got to see you again, and every day just seemed to feel longer and longer. He wasn’t even sure what to say anymore. He knew that whatever you told him over the phone wouldn’t be enough, and you knew the same thing. So, you decided to try and switch the topic to a happier one.
“Hey,” you tried to sound as happy as you could. You heard him respond with a soft ”hmm?”, followed by another sniffle. “When I come to visit again, can we go back to that park you took me to? The one with the cute little pond?”
At this, Jungsu smiled. When you first came to visit, he took you to all his favorite places. One of those places was a park that he typically had to walk past on his way back to the dorm from rehearsal. Sometimes, if he had a long day, he would take a walk around the park on his way home to clear his head. He sniffled again, “Yeah, baby. We can go back there. Of course.” You smiled at his slight change of tone. It was subtle, but you still picked up on it. “Y’know,” he continued, “there’s a really good boba place down the street from the park I think you would like.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mhmm. It’s really cute. You also get a good view of the park from there. We should go.”
You chuckled lightly. “It’s a date. I’ll add it to my long, long list of things to do once we’re back together.”
“You have a list?” It was now his turn to chuckle.
“Yup!”
“What’s on it?”
“Going to the park, getting boba, bullying the guys into having a game night so we can team up on them again.” You both laughed together now.
“That was so funny!” Jungsu unraveled himself from his own tight grip, and wiped away the last of his tears. “Gunil and Hyeongjun were getting so mad.”
“Hey, it’s not our fault that we’re better at trivia.” You both continued to laugh before Jungsu checked the time. He let out a sigh.
“I need to start getting ready for rehearsal. We have a pretty busy schedule today, and if I don’t start getting ready now I’m gonna be late.”
You sighed as well. “Okay, then I guess I’ll let you go to work.” you complained in a joking tone. You heard him laugh again. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Thank you for calling me. I bet you’re tired.”
“Sleep can wait when it comes to you,” your voice was genuine, and Jungsu couldn’t fight back a smile.
“Go get ready for bed, I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Okay. If you need anything, text me. I’ll probably still be awake for a while.”
You couldn’t see, but Jungsu smiled and rolled his eyes at your bad sleeping habits. “Will do.”
“I love you,” you happily confessed over the phone.
“I love you too, baby,” he replied happily. “I’ll see you soon.”
taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚
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Text
All Along the Watchtower
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Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: some military jargon, mild angst, brief mentions of sexual activity in the past, brief mentions of violence
Summary: Sgt. Rory Sinclair with the Special Reconnaissance Regiment of the British army has been called on to assist with a joint US/UK operation. Quickly discovering that her Commanding Officer for the mission is a man she's met before...
A/N: Rory Sinclair is a dual citizen (both Canada and the UK) who's been living in the UK since she was 14. She is 28 at the time of this fic, Price is 32. This series is set in 2017 before the events of the first MW game. Rory's thoughts are bold and italicized, other italics are used for emphasis. Will also be available to read on AO3.
October 13, 2017 09:37 - Special Reconnaissance Regiment Headquarters, Stirling Lines, Credenhill, Herefordshire, United Kingdom 
Rory sat in her cubicle, grey plastic walls surrounding her, free of any personal items. Scouring hours of footage shot during a scouting mission in thermal vision, taking note of timestamps and important location details for her report, she couldn’t help but taste the acrid pang of jealousy. It was the duty of her and the other SRR operators in the office to painstakingly comb through reports and footage, collecting intel. The nerve center for army intelligence. Keyboards clacked and phones rang as information was filtered and passed along to where it was needed.
"Sgt. Sinclair."
A deep voice broke the monotony around her, it was one that few ever heard unless the powers that be deemed it so. She’d only heard it once before when her transfer to the SRR was approved. Spinning in her seat at her desk, she rose to stand, her hand raised in a salute as she stood at attention. "Colonel Rourke, Sir?"
Rourke, a man with decades of experience as part of the British army, stood at her desk. Brusque and stern, he was a bulldog of a man trapped in an office space. He would have been more comfortable leading a fleet of tanks rather than an infantry of analysts. "At ease, soldier." She relaxed, hands held behind her back as he continued, "I don't make a habit of personal visits, but I've just left an important meeting and I need your attention for a moment, Sergeant."
"Of course, sir."
“Follow me.” Leading her away from the bullpen she was sitting at and towards a quiet corner, a potted plant was the only company there. Free from prying eyes and ears, he turned his back to the rest of the room, and lowered his voice. "There's a joint operation happening between the Americans and the SAS, and they require our assistance. However, they're looking for boots on the ground experience, and a fair portion of the SRR operators currently available for missions of this sort of nature just don’t have that. But you –"
She nodded, her face falling somewhat. She'd only transferred six months ago and was still settling in. The SRR HQ provided a different type of work than she was used to, but she appreciated the change of pace it gave her, utilizing a different portion of her skill set. It also meant she was closer to her father rather than being half a world away in the middle of a war zone – but a soldier could only be at peace for so long. 
"I understand you were transferred here to clear the headspace, but I can’t think of anyone better suited. You have an impressive record, Sinclair. A real asset. You’ve a history with counter-terrorism, been in the thick of it, and I have a Station Chief with the CIA here who wishes to speak with you."
It wasn't a question or an offer. She had been selected. An honor bestowed upon her. There was no turning it down. Not that she would. Ambitious, career-oriented – she had no reason to say no. Walking past the cubicles of operators, it was a stark contrast to where she was less than a year ago. The ground no longer shook as bombs dropped overhead, bullets didn’t tear through the air or rip through kevlar, it was quiet here. Safe. She still played an important part in the war effort, but without the risk to life and limb. The blood no longer dripped from her hands, though that still didn’t make her clean. 
The colonel stopped outside a large meeting room and opened the door for Rory, directing her inside with his hand. The room was empty except for one woman with a coffee and a laptop sitting at a long table. Dressed in business casual clothing, she looked prepared for a day at the office compared to the soldiers around her wearing their uniforms. Looking up, her face serious, she tilted her head in Rory's direction but spoke with the Colonel, "Is this her?"
"Yes, this is Sgt. Sinclair."
Like a child being spoken about between a parent and a teacher, she was recognized as being there, but not as part of the conversation. Things had been set in motion, all of which she had yet to be made privy to. Rory was no stranger to working on a need to know basis, moving up the ranks meant for much of her career she often merely had to follow in the direction she was being pointed. This was certainly no different.
"Good to meet you," the American said with a nod of her head. "I'm Kate Laswell." Holding her hand out to the open seat beside her, she directed Rory to it. "Take a seat."
Appearing sure in her steps, even while the stress took hold, she stopped at the table and took a seat, exhaling her breath finally as she settled into the chair, still trying to hold the proper decorum expected of a soldier. 
"You can relax, Sinclair. It's just you and me." Laswell looked at the Colonel and the door quickly closed, leaving the two women to sit alone in the large, echoing, blank slate of a room. She sipped her coffee, her eyes shifting to the screen of her laptop before speaking again. "I assume the colonel didn't reveal much about what's going on here, did he?"
Shaking her head, the short choppy locks of her chestnut bob hovered around her neck. "No, not really. Just that you're looking for boots on the ground?"
"Not exactly. We have the boots, it's more so a certain expertise." Kate glanced over at the younger woman, her brow lifting. "Why's a soldier like you working behind the scenes?"
Rory stretched her neck from side to side, cracking her knuckles. A cigarette suddenly seemed like a very good idea to her. "It was suggested I take a transfer from the field after I completed my last tour.” Glancing over at Laswell, she noticed the woman had begun looking right at her, scrutinizing her. “I spent the last several years in Iraq during the civil war. Working with CIA, PMCs, whoever my unit was assigned with." Her eyes fell to her fingers as she started to pick at the hangnail on the edge of her thumb, the skin underneath as sore and raw as the memories.
"Off the books?"
She cleared her throat and returned Laswell’s eye contact. "Oftentimes, yeah."
Kate paused, her head tipping to the side. "Seen some things, huh?"
Rory tried to get a read on the woman, it was hard to get much from her face or her demeanor. There was empathy or at the very least some form of understanding. Was she a soldier in the past? Or just an overpowered cop like some of the other CIA agents she'd met? She scratched her brow, clenching her jaw. "Did some things too."
"Not afraid to get your hands dirty then." Laswell’s face never seemed to change, her mouth drawn in a straight line as she folded her hands on the table. 
"I did what was asked of me."
"Like?" The station chief seemed genuinely interested in her, trying to get a beat on her all the same. Both of them were in the process of figuring out who they were about to get into bed with. 
"Primarily I focused on targets of high importance to prevent further incursion from the insurgency. Assassinations, interrogations – been there, done that."
"Assassinations?" Kate's voice rose, her interest piqued.
"I”m SSC trained. Ran a fair few missions that left me in some nests in high towers."
"A sniper, huh?"
"Yeah. When needed."
Nodding, Laswell’s straight face seemed to break for just a brief moment into a nearly unnoticeable grin. "How many confirmed kills?"
"High importance targets? Thirty three. I lost count of the random sods," she said with a shrug.
Laswell sipped her coffee, unfazed, hearing news like that was just a walk in the park for this woman. "No stranger to deep recon then?"
"It's in the name,” Rory confirmed. “It's what the SRR does. It used to be part of the SAS, but broke off and focused on the intel part of things. It’s why I was specifically transferred here and not just put on leave. Command didn’t want to lose someone with my experience."
"You have some connections with intelligence?"
"I have friends at MI6."
"Good.” Laswell’s attention fell on her completely. “Well Sinclair, I have a friend who's running this op – he's SAS – and you sound like just what he's looking for. If you're up for it, of course." 
Rory contemplated the decision for a moment, she hadn’t thought she’d be back out in the field quite so soon, and considering the fact that none of the details of the mission were being revealed to her until she agreed to come, she assumed she was heading into some real shit. Her hands slipped from the tabletop and into her lap, a tremor shaking through them out of sight, before she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."
"Great." Laswell shut her laptop and scooped it under her arm as she stood, collecting her coffee cup in her other hand. "Come with me."
Her brow lifted. "Just like that?" She was well accustomed to the bureaucracy and strict measures the British army seemed to enforce, things didn’t just happen, not without cutting several layers of red tape and after being passed through multiple hands first.  
"Just like that."
She stood up and followed behind the Station Chief, keeping pace with her as they moved through the halls. Rory was in no position to argue, nor would she want to, it was nice not to be beholden to the rigidity of the chain of command. This was more cavalier. Very American. 
"So, you straddle the line between spy and soldier, huh?" Kate asked, her eyes kept forward.
"Sort of like you, I assume?" Rory asked with a sideways glance, her lips curving into a half grin.
"Sort of." Kate huffed out a laugh. "Yeah."
They turned the corner and headed down the stairs, the reverberations of their shoes on concrete bouncing off the walls. Once an RAF base, now the headquarters of the SRR and the 22 Special Air Service Regiment in the midlands, it was sprawling with large open fields. Out on the parade, a helo sat waiting, it’s rotor warmed up and the blades spinning. There was no time to grab her things, it was get up and go, the moment she said yes she was being tossed from the frying pan into the fire. The urgency was clear, she had likely already been transferred and meeting Laswell was simply a courtesy. 
Ducking under the blades, the shadow of each one cutting across the sun as it broke through the dense cloud cover above, Laswell pulled open the door of the helicopter. “Head inside,” she said with a tip of her head towards the waiting entrance into the vehicle, raising her voice to be heard over the engine. 
Rory climbed in and looked over at the row of seats, noticing another soldier sitting there, already strapped in. His face stern as he shifted, adjusting his hat, the overwhelming scent of cigar smoke drifting from him. Scratching at his cheek, his nails dragging through a thick fuzz of facial hair, he glanced over at her and then turned back to Laswell who took the seat across from him. "I assume this is the one, Kate."
"Yeah, John, this is her.” Laswell pulled on the front of her jacket as she sat back and got comfortable. “Sergeant Sinclair, meet Captain Price."
Rory's brow furrowed for a moment at the name. It was familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint how. Was it one she'd seen in a report? As she strapped into her seat, steely blue eyes measured her up before turning his attention to lighting the Villa Clara cigar he’d pulled from one of the pockets of his vest. 
"Nice to meet you, Sergeant."
His voice was deep, rumbling, and it stirred something in her. She was no stranger to appreciating someone’s timbre, but this was something different. He seemed so familiar, she couldn’t place how, but she knew it. Intimately. And then the memory hit her – the bathroom stall. Five years prior, one night in a bar. The sheer chance of them meeting like this damn near improbable. Her stomach dropped. Jesus. His face was nearly recognizable beneath the facial hair that hadn't been there the first time they met. His voice had become more gruff, lower than she remembered. The cigar he was currently smoking gave a clear indication as to why. Swallowing down the embarrassment that threatened to burn at her cheeks as she looked at him, gauging his reaction to her name - if he recognized her the way she suddenly did him, he didn't show it.
"Good to meet you too, sir," she said. Her gaze fell to her hands, remembering how it felt when he had held them. Trying her damnedest not to look at him, she preferred to appear nervous over the mission and not the man who had suddenly become her commanding officer. 
Tugging at the tactical vest he wore, Price tilted his head back, puffing on his cigar and looking out the window as the helicopter began to move, the inside shaking as they lifted up off the ground. 
There was no backing out now.
Laswell passed her a tablet, and started giving her the brief. “That is Igor Zorokov, Russian oligarch and alleged trafficker. Weapons, drugs, information…people.” Rory’s eyes locked on the screen, scanning through images of the man. Older, blond, in relatively good shape. Not the type someone might assume as a master criminal upon first inspection. “He has ties around the globe, but his stronghold is in Eastern Europe. Supplying several military coups with funds and weapons, he’s a dangerous man with people at disposal in his back pocket, and we have reason to believe he’s funding terrorist activities.”
“And we’re investigating him? Or taking him out?” Rory needed to prepare for exactly the type of mission this was going to be. Recon was one thing, taking someone’s life was another. 
“Erring on the side of caution. The Russian government could easily sweep just how far his global reach is under the rug if he’s brought to light, especially since it’s been beneficial for them. We want to find out who he’s funding and put a stop to the pipeline he has through his many ventures.”
Rory hummed, muttering, “Putting a tourniquet on before cutting off the arm.” 
“Exactly." Price's voice cut through the roar of the engine. "First stop is Kastovia, have a friend who’ll meet us there and get us into Russia undercover.”
“Nikolai?” Laswell asked.
“Yeah.”
It was clear these two weren’t just casually paired together for the mission, there was a long-standing relationship. Trust. She certainly understood how being a soldier who just so happened to have a friend who could get into the places they normally couldn’t would be beneficial, having an American ally even more so. 
“I hate to be a bother, ma’am," Rory spoke up, "but I’m not exactly prepared.” She felt damn right naked. Her duffel was down in the red brick complex below that was steadily getting smaller and further away. Her gear, her weapons, all of it was disappearing out of view as she sat there in her fatigues.  
“No need to worry about that, Sergeant.” Price replied instead, blowing out a stream of smoke. “Nik’ll have us covered when we land.”
All she had to do now was sit back and relax (as best she could) and try not to let her mind stray too far afield as the memories flashed before her eyes of the man who sat six feet from her.
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mi-rae07 · 3 months
Text
Song Mingi : Burning Desire s2 (Extra)
Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Moon Aeri)
___________________
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Miyeon : minho!
Miyeon walked towards her younger brother as he frowned, looking at the empty ballroom where miyeon was currently supposed to have her ballet classes.
Minho : where is the teacher?
Miyeon : alive.
Mingi : noona what-
Miyeon : I need to go out.
Minho groaned as he said
Minho : for the third time this week? To that forest again?
Miyeon : it's not that forest, it's my favorite place on Earth.
Minho let out a breath, putting his hands on his waist as he said
Minho : noona I am the crown prince, my duties include more than just seducing your teacher into not telling eomma about your little endeavors.
Miyeon : okay then.
Miyeon bowed down, lifting her skirts as she did a curtsy before saying sarcastically
Miyeon : my great lord whose wit and wisdom surpasses the best of this world, would you kindly do me a favor and stall my stupid ballet teacher for me. Your actions will be greatly appreciated and forever remembered with gratitude and-
Minho : okay get up I'm done.
Miyeon giggled as she stood up straight, ruffling her younger brother's hair that was exactly like her fathers' before saying
Miyeon : you're the best.
Minho rolled his eyes with a small smile as he watched miyeon run away to the stables, her skirts held up as her anklet sounds echoed around the place. She had always been the life of this palace, with all her laughs and giggles. The people loved her, almost everyone did.
Minho : don’t die!
Miyeon : I'll try little brother!
Minho smiled as he turned around, his face falling immediately as he noticed the ballet teacher coming in, her face taught and composed. Minho whispered under his breath with a tired sigh
Minho : the things I do for her.
Minho put up his most enchanting smile as he walked forward, calling out graciously with his arms held out
Minho : look who's here! My favorite teacher in the world!
_____________________________
Miyeon closed her eyes as she let the wind take over her body, her horse galloping further into the forest that she had always loved. Her parents never let her go into the forest, for obvious reasons of safety. But miyeon couldn't help herself, so she'd ask her younger brother to stall the ballet teacher at least two times a week so that she could take that time to visit the place she loved most.
Miyeon guided her horse towards the nearby lake that she always liked to visit, having even made friends with the rabbits that lived there. But miyeon slowly stopped her horse as she saw a man drinking from the river water, his curled blonde hair going up until his shoulders. He dressed like a commoner, but he was built like a knight.
Miyeon gasped as the man turned back to face her, her eyes landing on the most beautiful person she had ever seen in her entire life. She had always thought her father to be a quite handsome man, but this…this man looked like he didn't belong to this world.
??? : you're the princess.
Miyeon pressed her lips together, climbing down the horse as she said
Miyeon : is it that obvious?
The man looked at her dress and the jewellery she was wearing and then at the horse who was not even bothering to eat the grass before saying
??? : is it.
Miyeon sighed as the man turned back around, packing his belongings into a brown bag as miyeon asked
Miyeon : where were you headed to?
??? : Upsala.
That was where the nation's churches were located, it was considered holy and put apart from the rest of the nation.
Miyeon : you're…a saint?
The man chuckled dryly as he said
??? : I wish.
The man lifted the bag before putting it around his shoulders and was about to walk past miyeon when she held his arm, making him pause on his tracks
Miyeon : you know I am the princess, and yet you have no respect.
??? : respect is earned, princess, not given freely.
Miyeon supposed she could try to earn his respect if it meant having his presence around her.
Miyeon : what is your name?
The man turned to face miyeon, her realizing how beautiful this man was while being even closer to her. She wanted him, but just with his gaze miyeon knew he was unattainable. He was too divine for her, too pretty even in the most ugliest of dresses.
She could write poems on his beauty.
??? : kang yeosang.
Miyeon frowned as she asked
Miyeon : kang? That sounds familiar. What is your father's name, then?
Yeosang : kang han.
___________________________
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quill2parchment · 2 months
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In Light of You is a collection of Hinny moments that date post Battle of Hogwarts to pre In This Darkness. The complete series is now up on the FFT archives as well as on A03; however, I'm currently going through the chapters, making tiny edits to them, noticeable to probably nobody other than me. As I go through them though, I thought I'd also add a few of the pieces on here. So, without much further ado, here is Chapter 1 of In Light of You.
*Please note that this installment does contain slight smut towards the end. It also makes references to violent events that happened prior to the start of the story.
The-Boy-Who-Lives
Harry doesn’t do much talking in the days that follow the final battle. 
He doesn’t believe the words to fill the voids exist. And if they do, his mind is too muddled to think them up, so he doesn’t even try, letting silence wrap him up and take him whole. 
He wishes he could stop listening too, but that’s less so of an option. The noise around him continues. Everyone’s crying. Everyone’s lost someone.
It’s not over yet either. The Dark Lord is gone but the violence continues, fueled not by logic but by rage and hatred and fear.
On their second day back at the Burrow, Kingsley Shacklebolt comes to pay a visit. He sits with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and tells them, “We still need you.” 
When he’s gone, Hermione says, “We have to go back to Hogwarts and graduate.” 
Ron says, “What for? We’ve learned enough.” 
Harry doesn’t say anything at all. 
The days pass through them. They bury Fred Weasley. They bury Severus Snape. They bury Remus and Tonks Lupin. They bury Colin Creevey. Every day, several funerals to attend. They start to lose track of whose coffin they’re mourning over. The grief becomes a bundle thing living inside of them, a one-size-fits-all for all the ones they’ve lost. 
Late one afternoon, they’re all sitting around the kitchen table. Ron passes behind Ginny, his eyes catching sight of the shoulder that has accidentally been left bare by the thick cardigan she’d been wearing. “Shit, Ginny,” he says, his whole face pinched. “What happened to you there?”
Harry automatically lifts his gaze to meet hers. It’s a hot, summer day, even for June, and that should’ve been his first clue that she had wrapped herself to keep hidden, not warm. From where he’s sitting, he cannot confirm what it is that’s caught Ron’s attention, but the green shade that’s taken over his face tells him enough.
Ginny draws her cardigan back up and rolls her eyes before snapping sarcastically at her brother, “I’ve been dabbling in masochist foreplay, Ron, that’s what.” 
Harry doesn’t mean to laugh. She’s obviously been hurt, and there’s nothing funny about that. But Ginny’s sitting there, looking cheeky, and whole, and her.  She grins back at him and gives him a playful wink. 
They haven’t interacted much these past few weeks but when everyone falls asleep that night, Harry goes to her room, and she opens the door before he even knocks, like she’s been waiting for him all along. 
They sit in her bed, her facing away from him. He brings the strap of her tank-top down her arms, below her elbows, away from her wrists. She brings her hair forward, letting him see what he came to see. The scars on her back are red, angry lashes that contrast sharply against the softness of her skin. 
“They look ghastly,” says Ginny, not much bothered, “but not as ghastly as Carrow’s face whenever someone would mention your name. She was terrified of you, that dumb bitch.” 
He presses his lips to her back, tracing the scars with his lips, perfect roads on the hills he so loves, and he rides them up and down, through the bend of her shoulder blades, up the hard hills of her spine, down the soft dip of her shoulder-neck.
“You’re beautiful,” says Harry, finally finding words worthy to speak, something he can actually mean. “You’re so beautiful, Ginny.”
When she turns around to face him, her face is a deep frown, her brown eyes intense on him. For a moment, Harry thinks she might be angry with him, for leaving her then, for kissing her now. But Ginny leans forward to kiss him hard on the mouth, like she’s done waiting for him to come back. 
He doesn’t notice much when their clothes come off. All the while, she’s been dressing him with kisses that burn him whole. He gathers her beneath him, touching all of her, and it’s still not enough, never enough. She runs her hands down his chest, his arms, his back, her touch awakening the parts of him that had gone numb with war. 
He’s trembling above her, wanting her desperately. “I have never…” he says. 
Ginny kisses his neck, his jaw, his mouth. Her hand reaches below him to guide towards the place he would’ve found anyways but makes for a much sweeter find with her as his guide. The space between them ceases to exist, and Harry’s been dead before, but he’s never been outside of himself, not until he’s inside of her. 
“I love you, Harry,” Ginny tells him. “I love you, I love you, I love,” and she keeps saying it again and again and again, carving those three words deep into him, so that even when it’s over, it’s not really over, the feeling of her tattooed on every inch of his skin. 
For the first time in a long time, he’s no longer just someone who’s survived; he’s someone who lives. 
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manonamora-if · 3 months
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Ask bomb
Are there any specific technologies or concepts from sci-fi books that you wish existed in the real world?
Do you consider yourself to be a picky eater?
You are given a choice to live in one of the fictional worlds where your games are set in. Which one would you choose and why?
If you were given a budget of 5000$ to upgrade your current house of tech setup, how would you spend it?
What's the most unusual item on your bedside table?
Have you read any of the IF works in chooseyourstory.com? While the forum is filled with unsavory characters, the quality of some of the works is better than most IFs found throughout the community as a whole
What's your favorite conspiracy theory, even if you don't believe it?
If you could have a conversation with your pet and they could understand you for just one minute, what would you say?
If you had a warning label, what would it say?
If aliens visited Earth and you were the first human they encountered, how would you explain our species?
What's the weirdest piece of advice you've ever received that turned out to be surprisingly useful?
What's the most absurd thing you've ever bought on impulse?
If you could have any mythical creature as a pet, which one would you choose and what would you name it?
As a french what are your thoughts on croak shoes and dad hats?
What's your favorite French expression or saying that you think the rest of the world needs to adopt?
If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would you have a good chance of winning a gold medal in?
😱
omg Anon...
Alright let's see
Teleportation. I hate the getting to places part of travelling. But also... Would it even work? Paris 2119 kinda gave me the ick about it at the same time.
I don't think I am. I'll eat almost anything and try new stuff when I can.
Any of the slice-of-life/like-the-real-world setting. Space is cool but it's too dangerous. Fantasy worlds don't have vaccines and medicine. It's like time travel: go in the past and you'll die of whatever disease is there, or in the future and maybe kill everyone with your bacteria (or was it the other way around? either way...). I'd rather live in a "normal" setting.
Half into a bed and mattress - the one you can bend up to read better. The rest in books and comics. If you give me the 5k in three years, I'll spend it in a gaming computer.
More unused bookmarks than books (I just have books on my bedside table).
I checked out the top rated listing on the main page a while back. Not my thing.
The Dead Internet Theory: the internet died some while back and is just populated by bots only. So we don't interact with people directly but through bots. It's a bit cuckoo. Or Nessie.
I've been told plants and rocks don't count as pets...
Volume not adjustable.
Don't bother, we're unsalvageable.
Touch grass. (go outside, take a walk, breath some fresh air)
Didn't buy, but I keep getting gifted croissant-related things: socks, kitchen towel... and more recently: the plushie. It is amazing. I love it.
The head of Mímir. I think we'd be drinking buddies. Especially if he is like in God of War.
Eh... Let people wear whatever they want.
« Quand le vin est tiré, il faut le boire. » - When the wine is drawn, you must drink it. Or finish your shit.
I am so average at shit, even then I wouldn't win any gold medal. And that's fine :)
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mayumiiyuu · 2 years
Text
vi. growing pains.
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the kaleidoscope project masterlist.
July, 1986, Marysville, Ohio.
I called Dr. Owens, though technically I had reached the phone number of another government agent, who then redirected me to Dr. Owens. He had asked me to meet him at a diner to talk, telling me that it was better to speak face to face rather than over the phone, as we never knew who could be secretly listening. Eventually I had told him of my wishes, that I wanted to know the truth of what had happened, I came to him with all my questions from before about subject B-5126.
Dr. Owens sighed. "I think I know who we can turn to for answers, but I don't think you'd like it."
I swallowed, furrowing my eyebrows. "It doesn't matter, all I want is to know the truth."
"One of the scientists who had worked there was imprisoned, on what charges I still don't know. I can take you to see her, but I will warn you, meeting her may trigger something within you." 
"I'll be fine."  But the way my fingers twitch and my heart starts to palpitate says otherwise.
This is what led me to Ohio Reformatory for Women.
I feel my heart practically skip a beat when Dr. Owens mentions the name of the inmate we were about to pay a visit to.
Amelia Peters.
....
Dr. Owens looks at me, concern filling his features. "You can leave anytime you want if it gets to overwhelming." He assured me as he placed a hand on my shoulder.
I nod silently, carefully eyeing the door that led to where I would meet with her. As the guard ushered me into the room, I felt a chill rack my spine as I came face to face with the woman, who I could now barely even recognize.
She had always worn her hair neatly, held herself in a graceful and reserved manner, but the woman I stared at currently had no resemblance of that woman. Her hair was frayed and knotted, her face lined with exhaustion and scratch marks. Whether she did that to herself or not I didn't know. All I knew was that whatever happened to her had completely destroyed her.
As I came into view, she stared at me with those same cold gray eyes I was all too familiar with.
"What a nice surprise," she stood up from a chair. "hello, Red."
I clenched my jaw as I heard that name, sinister and cruel with how it came out of her mouth, as if taunting me, hanging memories of my past over my nose.
"Dr. Peters." I regarded her.
She cocks her head to the side, smirking at me as she crossed her legs. "Must be nice for you to have the roles reversed for once, me locked in a cage," she gestures towards her cell. "While you stand there watching."
I glance at the guard, giving them a look for them to leave, to which they quirked an eyebrow at me.
"Don't get too close to the bars, she's grabby." They say as they turn, leaving me alone with her.
"Let's skip the formalities," I say once the door closes, folding my arms as I glared daggers at her. I reminded myself that she was the one behind bars now, not me. I had the upper hand. "Why was I experimented on? Out of the people you could have chosen, why me? And what is project Fordus, who is (mother's name)? Why did the report state me as her spawn?"
She purses her lips, grimacing as she paced around her cell. "So many questions, Red, you sound so much like me."
"I am nothing like you." I spat, words dripping with noxious venom. "I don't hurt people, I am not a monster."
"Oh? Is that what you think?" She cocks her head to the side, her voice lilting as if she were amused by my reaction, she stepped towards me, standing proudly while she held her hands behind her back.
"You were made for war," Dr. Peters smiled. They said the eyes were the windows to the soul, and as I gazed into hers, I realized she didn't have one; her gaze was cold, devoid of any joy despite how her mouth stretched into a grin, I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at her.
"I created you, I blessed you with unimaginable power to make armies fall to their very feet, to cause chaos and disorder, the moment I laid my eyes upon you, I knew. I knew that one day you'd conquer and divide, that if I pushed you just enough you'd finally reach your full potential, you'd conquer the world."
She plopped down onto the chair, leaning backwards, chuckling to herself. "When I saw you that day, frustrated and angry when you couldn't activate your powers the way you wanted to, triggering them in the process, absolutely tearing apart the room with a shockwave, I thought you were weak, worthless compared to the others who could control their abilities so flawlessly," she shakes her head. "But I was wrong. See, as I observed you, how you crawled like a dying animal, I saw  just how strong you were, admired your determination. And as you transformed very stone into nothing but ash, I marveled at you. By God, the power you have, the power you wield, the potential for utter destruction, it—it was so beautiful." 
Her nostrils flared as tears started to stain her cheeks, sniffing before she started to sob. I furrowed my brows as her sobs turned into laughter; sick, maniacal laughter that could only come from a madman.
She lurched forward, grabbing the iron bars of her cell, I backed away, fearing she may reach out and grab me.
"Let me tell you a secret," she whispered, her tone amused, entertained with how I instinctively flinched away. "All you will ever do is hurt people, because that was what you were made for. You can fool yourself, lie to yourself so much to the point you actually start to believe those honeyed words of yours, but you are still my creation, my masterpiece, and a part of me will always live within you, no matter how much you try to hide it and push it away, I'll always be there, whispering into your ears, reminding you of your purpose."
She jumps backward, landing onto a chair with a sigh.
"You never answered my question." I seethed, eyes glimmering as I fisted the cloth of my jeans.
"Oh," she nods, her gaze trailing upwards to the ceiling as she rests her chin in her hand. "B-5126 was your mother, I say was because she's barely even alive now," she looks straight into my eyes as she points her finger at me. "Thanks to you, of course."
"What—" I huff, my breathing becoming labored as I heard her words. "What do you mean by that?" I felt my entire body tense as my heart hammered against my chest.
"Exactly what you think it does!" She cackled. "You, my dear little Red Riding Hood, put your mother into a coma." Her lips form into a pout, feigning hurt to mock me.
"Tell me exactly what happened, right now." I spat, glaring at her. If looks could kill, that bitch would be six feet under, left to rot in dirt and filth.
"Oh, I will, if it'll make you happy," she shrugs, cocking her head to the side. "But it won't—its a very sad story actually. See, when I started working for 'Them' with a capital 'T', I was placed under Project Fordus, altering genetics and blah blah blah of our subjects so that they could conceive the perfect little specimens for the next step: the Colors—you. Mommy dearest seemed to be sick and tired of it all, so she escaped, taking you with her, thinking that she could somehow just leave it all behind."
She shifted in her chair, her smile twisting into a frown as she scowled.
"She was stupid, naively so, didn't bother covering up her tracks, so it made it so easy for us to find her. So we took her back to the lab, ran some tests, and turns out that giving birth you made her infertile. She was no use to us anymore. But you—you had so much potential, even as an itty bitty little tot who could barely even walk," she let out a sadistic giggle. "She tried to put up such a fight! She tried to take you, runaway again in hopes of living her fairy tale life, I was there for it all—saw what happened on the cameras. The guards took you from her, tased her and threw her on the ground. Seeing your mother in such distress must have upset you, which only triggered your dormant powers. You sent a shockwave so powerful it scrambled their minds! You pulled the very electrons in their nerves, disrupting their orbit or something, I dunno, but as we went to check on them, they were all brain dead!" 
Her eyes crinkled as she chortled, rocking back and forth in her chair. I knew of her reputation as a well respected woman of science, but as I gazed at her now, she was nothing but a mad scientist, cruelly tearing people apart to serve her own depraved agenda.
"No," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. "You're lying, I didn't do that, I-I'd never hurt anyone."
She cocks her head at me, pouring again as she feigned sympathy. "Of course not, Red. You were only an innocent, harmless widdle baby. You didn't mean to destroy their lives," her mouth twitched into a smile again. "Just kidding! That's all you're meant for, really—see! I told you, all you'll ever do is hurt the people you love, because you're a weapon meant for devastation!"
My lower lip trembles, my hands shake and my thoughts spiral—the voices and whispers growing louder by the second as my fingers gripped at my scalp.
I gasp for air, realizing I had been holding my breath as I stood up, wanting nothing to do with her and her twisted game.
I spun around as I heard a commotion, only to see Dr. Peters slamming her hands against the iron bars.
"Don't you fucking turn your back on me, Red!"
A stray tear slides down my cheeks as a shiver crawled up my spine, terrified of the person I had even considered to be a mother figure. I place my hands to cover my ears, attempting to muffle out her voice, to silence the memories and cries in my head.
As I shut the door behind me, I lean onto the wall for support, shaken to my very core.
"Is everything alright?" Dr. Owens stepped towards me, offering me a hand, which I took gratefully.
"Take me to see my mother."
"Of course, I'll go get the car—"
I shake my head frantically. "No, no, I want to see my biological mother—the woman who gave birth to me."
He stared at me for a moment, eyebrows furrowed at my request, placing his hands on his hips as he nodded.
"I'll do my best to find her."
....
July, 1986, Medford, Oregon
I stared out the window, admiring the sprawling forests and the mist that hung in the air as the skies poured, even thought it was summertime, it seemed as if this place was locked in an eternal gloom. In spite of the downcast weather, I found it peaceful as I listened to raindrops pitter patter on the roof of the car.
I shuffled in the car seat, twiddling with my fingers as we approached a hospital, Dr. Peters' words echoing in my mind. One of the men that Dr. Owens had brought opened the door for me, to which I responded by muttering a small 'thank you' as I slipped out.
After going to the front desk, they had given us visitor's passes, Dr. Owens placed a hand on my shoulder, noticing my unease as we faced the door to her room. I could see a figure from the window, laying peacefully on the bed.
"It's now or never, kid."
I close my eyes, preparing myself, hardening my resolve as I breathed in, turning the doorknob and pushing the door open.
A breath hitched itself in my throat as I gazed upon my biological mother's form. Her eyes were shut, her breathing shallow as a heart monitor beat softly. In spite of her current condition, I knew her face. The same one I had seen in each memory. I felt my hands twitch involuntarily while my eyes focused on the various machines she was connected to.
"I did this?" I whispered as I look down upon my hands, trembling furiously no matter how much I tried to relax.
I turned to Dr. Owens as I heard his sigh.
"Do you know anything about this? About her?"
He looks down, as if thinking over his words carefully, lips forming a tight line before he spoke. 
"Dr. Peters was telling the truth," his words hit me like a speeding truck, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach as I tasted the bitterness of bile in my throat.
 "Your mother she—she was one of the initial experiments, she was orphaned at a young age, struggled to make her way through life when she was kicked out of the system. The organization that managed this experiment promised her financial compensation in the contract, which she signed. Evidently, she had undergone a fair share of trials. She..miscarried those first few times they tried to impregnate her, you.." his voice trailed off as he looked at me. "You were her only successful pregnancy. She escaped along with you, just as Dr. Peters said, but they found her and brought her back, they tried to take you away from her but.."
I close my eyes. He didn't need to finish his sentence for me to understand. It was true. Everything Dr. Peters had said was true, despite her deranged mental state, she was telling the truth.
Memories, as fragmented and distant as they had seemed, flashed through my mind as clear as day.
"Shh, shh, it's okay (Y/N), we're going home." Came the soothing voice of my mother as she picked me up cradled me in her arms.
What happened next was an absolute blur, stressful and surreal as I was dropped onto the floor, tears prickling my eyes as I searched for my mother, only to be picked up by someone else—a man? He was dressed in dark green. 
"Please, give her back—no! (Y/N)!” My mother sobbed as she was thrown to the ground, writhing and screaming in pain as she was struck by rods of electricity.
As I let out a cry, the man that was holding me dropped to the floor—all of them did. I wailed so fiercely that my throat burned.
“Mama!”
Without any hesitation, I run out of the room, past Dr. Owens who called out for me, voice filled with concern.
I don't turn back, I only run. 
I don't even know where I was going as I sprinted my way through crowds of people in the street, ignored the honking of cars as I sped through the road, running faster and faster even as my calves burned and heart ached.
Eventually, I found myself deep in the woods, slowing down to a stop when I realized that no one was around me. I dropped to my knees as I howled with anguish, finally letting my thoughts and emotions consume me as I wept.
Power surged through me, exploding outwards, in blaring red, sending trees crashing to the ground as I heard the crackling of wood. I lurched forward, sobbing; clawing and pulling at the grass beneath me, wanting the earth to swallow me and hide me away.
I hide my face in my hands as my body racks with sobs, guttural shouts resounding throughout the air.
I had spent my entire life being forged into a weapon, I thought I had left that all behind me, but no matter how hard I ran or how much I tried to escape it, the pain had remained. It was as if it was seared into my very DNA, and there was no changing that. No drug could ever cure me of what they had done, of what I am.
I hiccuped, covering my mouth with the back of my hand, unable to cry anymore as I had exhausted my tear ducts. As I look around me, nothing but fallen trees, burning bushes, and scorched earth, irrevocable destruction surrounding me, a revelation dawns on me; a thought I was too afraid to acknowledge.
I was born to lay upon wreckage, wherever I went, whatever I touched.
I was meant to destroy.
….
taglist: @preciousbabypeter @justaproudlslytherpuff @iiheartbowie @beebeerockknot @nightless @lovelydivs @r-royce
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hmshermitcraft · 1 year
Note
Hello! New to the blog, please let me know if I’ve gotten anything wrong with how I’m supposed to use the ask box!
Gem was the princess of Camelot. Well, current day Camelot. Which was now in ruins.
She heaved a sigh. Oh how she wished she could be a princess like her ancestors long ago.
But noooo. She had to be born thousands of years after the golden age of the kingdom she’d dreamt of. The kingdom that would’ve been rightfully hers.
History is a strange yet fascinating thing. Not many species get to learn that they have a history. And here Gem was, in a classroom learning about the reign of her great-great-great-great-…-great grand father, King Arthur.
She found herself dreaming. What would Camelot look like today? What would she contribute as Queen? Who would she meet?
Flipping through the endless pages, a name had caught her eye. His name was under the defects label. ‘Wels, knight of Camelot.’
‘On the quest to find the holy grail, Wels knight was nowhere to be found. Some scouts say that he had run far into the woods during formation. Some say that he ran into the night. Sources vary.’
She hummed. Disappearing into the night huh. Hot. She caught herself. What are you thinking. This man is dead at this point in time. If he was alive he’d be 2000 years old at this point!
Gem buried her nose into her textbook, hiding her poppy red face from the world.
When Gem joined Hermitcraft;
Wels is oblivious to the fact that he is in modern textbooks, and was as shocked as Gem was when she first met him.
“Welsknight… Wels, knight of Camelot…?”
“How do you know that-?”
“I’ve read about you in my textbooks-“
“I’m in textbooks?!?!”
“How are you alive! You should be like 2000 years old by now?!?”
Xisuma, who has been standing there for the past two minutes said,
“Accidental time travel, and lots of lines of code. You don’t want know.”
May I be 🎨 anon? Is that how this works?
(anon, you're absolutely perfect <3)
Wels found Gem's interest in him... A little off-putting at first. Nobody else on the server even knew about his origins (besides maybe Scar, if he hadn't forgotten by now) so it's strange being interrogated! Gem wanted know every single detail about Camelot and the life there.
For Wels, Camelot was only a few years ago. It's difficult answering Gem's questions. It brought up grief that he was still trying to navigate. Thankfully, Gem backed off when she realised. Wels appreciated the thoughtfulness.
He didn't find out about her connection to Camelot until several months into the season. He just so happened to be coming to visit when he heard Gem and Pearl talking about it. The pair were sat around a big textbook, Gem pointing at pictures. And Gem said it, plain as day, that if Camelot still existed, she'd be the princess.
Sadly, there was very little Gem could tell him about her family lineage. Most was lost to myth and legend, she only had what's captured in writing - old textbooks and stories. She happily told Wels what she knows, though, with a soft empathy as they cover harder parts. They grew closer as they bond over the past. Until, gradually, they started to form a relationship in the present.
Wels had a bit of a crisis, because he couldn't fall for the princess, but Gem shrugged. Princess of what, was her simple reply. Her and Wels are just normal people now, shouldn't they get to define what that means for them? So they did. And what it meant turned out to be quiet dates on sunny days, and holding hands, and kisses.
Wels might not be protecting Camelot anymore. And he doesn't really need to protect its princess either, she can do that herself. He can love her, though. And she loves him back.
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phantom-playdough · 1 year
Text
MK x GN!Reader: Journal
NO IDEA IF THIS IS IN CHARACTER FOR MK BUT WE ROLLIN' WITH IT BABY!!!!!!!!!!!
MK had just gotten back to his apartment from yet another hard day of training. Monkey King has really been pushing him hard lately, but don't worry! They can take it, right? Right? Apparently not. At least... not right now.
So, when MK flopped onto their bed face first, he was surprised to look over and see a book of some sort on his bedside table. They picked it up and looked around, as if anyone was there to watch him. But they didn't know if maybe this was planted there by a demon.
He opened the book to the first page, only to see two words written in his best friend's signature handwriting.
'Y/n's Journal'
MK was confused as to why their best friend left behind their journal. But he chalked it up to Y/n being a little space-y and ending up leaving it behind from the last time they visited MK.
But regardless of how the journal ended up on MK's bedside table, it was here. And it also was giving MK an impossibly hard choice. Put it aside to give back to Y/n or read it and then put it aside...
We all know what choice MK made.
They turned to the most recent entry, eager to see what their best friend was journaling about.
'March 15th, XXXX Currently sitting in MK's room. He had to go on into the city super quickly to beat a demon, but he said he'll be back soon. I kinda wish I could fight like them. They are so strong, and he has really been doing well with training if he is able to beat some of these demons! I know I have written enough mushy stuff about Xiaotian in this journal, but I can't help it!!! He is just THAT cool!!!!! They are too good for me, too. They told me to not come after them into the city because he didn't want me to get hurt. I won't lie, a small part of me is hurt that I would be such a liability, but he is so precious that is impossible for me to be that mad at him. I love that goofball...'
MK was sat in shock and quickly skimmed through a couple previous entries, and then reread the latest entry to double-check that their eyes were actually correct in what they were seeing. Needless to say, they were. MK could feel his heart hammer in his chest as he struggled to take all this in. What was one to think when their best friend said they loved them.
MK carefully shut the book and put it back on his bedside table. He pulled out his phone and texted Y/n's number. He just said, 'Hey, wanna come over? Long day.'
Sure enough, Y/n responded almost immediately. 'Already on my way. Just picking up some snacks and stuff.' MK felt their heart swell at the fact that Y/n was already headed their way and was getting some food for him.
'Y/n is too good for me.' He thought fondly.
When Y/n made it to MK's apartment, MK all but teleported to his door to let them in. "Hey!"
"Sup, MK?"
"Uh, heh, not much."
It did unnerve Y/n that MK didn't say, 'the ceiling' like they normally did. But he did say it was a long day of training. Y/n walked past MK and went over to the kitchen area to pull out the snacks they bought for the pair.
But while they were pulling out some (favorite flavor of chips), MK snuck up behind them and wrapped his arms around their waist, resting his head in the crook of Y/n's neck. Y/n froze to the spot and... so did MK.
"What are you doing?" Y/n asked with a small laugh in their voice.
"Uh... I actually don't know. I saw this in a movie." MK responded awkwardly.
Y/n laughed loudly, making MK's heart jump a little at the sweet sound.
"Well, wanna sit down and watch a movie?" MK mumbled a yes, but they didn't let Y/n go.
"Uh, MK?"
"Yeah?"
"Ya gotta let me go, silly."
MK thought for a moment, before picking Y/n up.
"MK! What has gotten into you?" Y/n squirmed around violently despite their adorable laugh.
"Nothing! I just didn't wanna let go." MK said defensively. He plopped Y/n down on his bed. MK began setting up the TV for a movie, selecting some rom-com movie that neither of them had seen.
While the two were watching the movie, MK couldn't help but feel distracted by the journal Y/n unknowingly left behind. The journal that was sitting only a few centimeters away from the two of them.
MK made a bold move at that moment. Given the fact the two of them were sitting right next to each other, they scooted a little closer to Y/n, laying his head on their shoulder. Y/n didn't question it at that moment and instead laid their head atop of MK's.
The pair just sat in a comforting silence. Eventually though, MK put the silence to an end and spoke up. "So, umm... you left your journal here."
Beat
Beat
Beat
"Is that why you've been acting so affectionately with me?" Y/n said curiously. They didn't even seem MAD. More just surprised.
"...Maybe?" MK responded awkwardly.
Y/n laughed again and wrapped an arm around MK's shoulder. "You're such a dork, Xiaotian."
MK smiled, looking at Y/n's sweet face. "Yeah, but I can be your handsome little dork, ya know?" They said cockily.
Y/n looked at MK, from their eyes to their lips. MK got the hint pretty quickly and leaned forward, but not all the way. They gave Y/n just enough room to back away should they decide to. But they didn't. If anything, they leaned in the rest of the way, kissing MK as though they'd disappear.
The two of them kissed each other, growing more and more desperate as the make-out session progressed. MK ended up pushing Y/n down onto his bed. Eventually though, they both broke apart, panting for air.
"You're too good for me, Xiaotian."
He laughed at that statement. MK laid their weight onto Y/n, listening to their rapid heartbeat. "So are you, though."
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