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linasofia · 2 years ago

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Love Never Dies

Part 2

Fandom: The Man from Rome

Relationship: Father Lorenzo Quart x OC Palmira

Summary: After returning to his hometown, Father Quart comes face to face with his past. His life, as well as the choices he made as a young man, are turned upside down and he is once again forced to make life-changing decisions. But at what cost?

Words: 2,2K

Warnings: Angst. 18+

A/N: This is the second part of this fic. You can read the previous part here.

His mother is only a shadow of the strong and independent woman she once had been. Her hair is more silver than brown, and time has made her skin thin and deep characteristic wrinkles now grace her once smooth face. An artificial calmness always surrounds her these days, the collection of medications standing on her bedside table provides her with, among other things, a good sleep. Her best years are behind her, but she shares her son’s faith and he gives her spiritual comfort every week and reminds her that good deeds will be rewarded. Father Quart smiles at his mother, whose eyes seem to brighten every time he enters her bedroom.

”How are you feeling?”

”I am very tired, Lorenzo. Life is slowly slipping from me, I feel it in my body.” She looks him straight in the eyes, and he knows she is right. He had a long conversation with his mother’s doctor the previous day and he understands the prognosis. And age is not to her advantage.

”I have something of great importance to tell you and it might cast some light over your own life. And maybe it will help you understand the choices I made, long ago.”

Father Quart watches in silence how his mother briefly closes her eyes as if trying to collect enough strength to carry on. Her breathing is shallow and she looks worn out in a way he did not notice earlier. Her usually pale skin is ashy and her lips dry. He hands her the glass of water he refilled before he went down to get the folder from her basement, and she gratefully accepts it and drinks a few small sips. Without taking her eyes from her son, she searches for the right words to start with. He can tell by the change in her eyes that it is causing her much pain. Gently, he squeezes her hand.

“Perhaps you shall rest and tell me another day.”

“No, Lorenzo. I have already waited too long. I am afraid that if I do not tell you now, it will never be said.” She smiles weakly. “There is nothing to gain from keeping this from you. You have the right to know, since it concerns you. And your father, Riccardo.”

Father Quart stiffens at the last of her words. His whole life, until this day, he has wondered if they ever were to talk about the man his mother did everything to avoid speaking of. When he was a boy, Father Quart was not allowed to ask about his father, and that affected him deeply. He had read enough psychology along with his theological studies to understand some of his behavior as a child. Without his faith, he was convinced that the damage would have been even bigger.

“I am sorry I did not find the strength to tell you sooner, but I was afraid you might turn from me. It took many years for us to get this far and I cherish what we have today very much.”

“Mother,” he says in what he hopes is a soft tone. “Whatever you tell me will never stand between us, I promise.” He is not really sure about the truth in his words, but he knows that he at least will do his utmost to try to understand.

She squeezes his hand back, takes a deep breath, and starts to tell him a story that begins almost fifty years earlier.

“As you know, I was older than most women were back then when I had my first, and as it turned out, my only child. I had given up the idea of finding the right man and focused on living the life I wanted without someone holding me back. So when I met your father, my heart was rather inexperienced and he swept in like a storm and turned everything in my life upside down. He was an intense man, strong, eloquent and very handsome.” Her voice grows in strength when she reaches for his cheek. “You look so much like him. You share the same color in your eyes, you have his patrician nose, and even your voice resembles his more than you can imagine.”

Father Quart smiles back at her, confused by her words. He is not used to her openly talking about her feelings and especiallynot about the past. They usually speak about the present and they are both comfortable with that. This is new territory. His mother repeats twice how the man seemed to be the perfect match for her, but all Father Quart can focus on is the question in his mind: How did it all go wrong?

“We had not been a couple for long, but he was very passionate and I was madly in love with him, so I let him have me in a way I knew deep inside was reserved for the marital bed.”

Father Quart lets out a small gasp. He always assumed that his mother had at least been engaged to his father. “Do not look at me like that, Lorenzo. I was no saint, I have never been.” He smiles, then nods encouragingly and she continues.

“I found out I was pregnant only two months after our first night together. I was scared and thought he might leave me so I did not tell him right away. I do not know if he sensed it anyway, for he acted differently after that. He became cold, violent, he spoke differently and then—” Her voice breaks and tears well up in her eyes. Father Quart stares at his mother sobbing in her bed, unable to cope with the look in her eyes. Then he finally connects with his compassion again and leans forward to embrace her. His heart beats hard and he both wants to know and dreads what is coming.

“What happened, mother?” he mumbles in a shaky voice, and the forbidden question he has waited a lifetime to say feels loaded on his tongue. A small whine is heard and he silently curses himself for inflicting pain upon his fragile mother. When her answer gets caught in her throat, he does not repeat his question, but instead holds her close. Finally her small words find their way into the air.

“Then…he bit me.” she says quietly and at first he wonders if he heard correctly. Father Quart releases her and sits straight up.

“What do you mean?”

She looks back at him with a tortured look in her eyes. “What I said. He bit me. Hard. And he enjoyed it. Look.” She tilts her head to the side, pulls her nightgown to the side and Father Quart leans in to take a better look. Two pale identical scars stare back at him. He has never noticed them before and in shock, he meets his mother’s gaze again.

“He bit you? Why? It must have hurt enormously?”

“It did. I passed out from the pain. When I woke up he was gone. But he had put me in bed with a badly wrapped bandage around my neck. I had lost a lot of blood, my body was weak but the wound was not bleeding that much. It was a mystery to me. I never went to the hospital since the bleeding stopped by itself and I never reported it to the police in fear of not being taken seriously. The shame of what had happened was stronger than anything. I hid the wounds and then later the scars, afraid to be judged, and until this day I have never spoken about it.” Her voice is hollow now and Father Quart worries how much more she can take.

“I did not see him for years after that incident. I gave birth to you alone, told the midwife that the father had died and she asked no more questions. I was prepared to raise you alone and we would have made it just fine, if he had not been standing on our doorstep one day.”

She closes her eyes as if in physical pain from the memory. “Thankfully, you were playing at our neighbor's house that afternoon. I do not know what would have happened if you had been home, but I thanked the Lord you were not.” Anger and frustration rise in her voice. “He was a changed man, Lorenzo. He really scared me and what was even worse; he threatened to take you. I do not know how he knew about your existence and how he found out you were his son. I can only assume that he had made inquiries.” New tears fall on his mother’s cheeks, and Father Quart reaches for a handkerchief. “I did not know what to do. So I went to see Father Benedetti first thing the morning after. I pleaded to his goodness and I was overwhelmingly grateful when he accepted to take you to his home. I needed to protect you and I did what I thought was right. It was not meant to be a permanent solution but your father searched for you for years. I did not dare to let you back here. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.” She chokes on the words and covers her face with her trembling hands. “Will you ever forgive me for leaving you with Father Benedetti?”

Father Quart moves closer to her and pulls her into her arms. Her fragile body shakes when she relives the painful memories and he knows he cannot stop them. He can only try his best to comfort her. After what feels like an eternity she finally relaxes and leans back on her pillows with a deep sigh. Drained of the last of her energy, Father Quart realizes that she needs to rest. His beloved mother looks utterly exhausted, and he offers her some water before he tucks the duvet closer to her body.

“Let us not speak more of this now. If you want me to, I will come back tomorrow. You should try to sleep, the doctor said rest is important.”

“You are always welcome here, Lorenzo. You know that, do you not?”

“I know.” He bends down and places a gentle kiss on her cheek and she answers with the type of soft stroke only the loving hand of a mother can give.

“I will bring you something from the bakery tomorrow. The doctor also said you eat too little.” He smiles warmly at her and when she returns his smile, he notices how red her eyes are after all her tears. How he wishes he could take her pain away.

The evening is chilly when he steps out in the dark, a cold wind is coming in from the sea, and he pulls up the collar on his coat. Then he tucks his hands in his pockets and makes a mental note about digging out his gloves from the large dresser in his hallway. His thoughts are running wild in his mind; there is so much to process and he tries to catalogue all of it in his confused brain. Instead of heading straight home, he decides to take a long walk down to the dock. Maybe some fresh air will help clear his mind from the turmoil he feels inside.

The dock is almost abandoned, and a few lonely streetlamps cast pale lights over the part of the area where walking is allowed without having a badge. Father Quart looks at the sky where stars start to appear. They have always fascinated him, and he smiles fondly as he remembers how he used to sneak out when Father Benedetti was sleeping peacefully in his bed. The backside garden was not illuminated at all, and from there he could watch the stars. Sometimes he brought a starmap from his school book and a flashlight, and then spent hours in the dark trying to find out what stars and constellations he could see. Over his head now sits Orion’s belt, and its three stars gaze down on him in silence. He shivers. The wind is merciless but it helps to sort out the details in his conversation with his mother. So much was said but it raised even more questions. Father Quart cannot find answers to them all from what he was told and he senses there is more. Something that has to do with the folder. She did not even touch it, yet it was important that he brought it up from the basement. He promised to be back the following day, maybe he will get more answers then. Right now the only thing he knows for certain is a name: Riccardo.

He turns and walks briskly away from the dock. He needs to get home to his computer. It is time to contact one of his few remaining friends, an odd man he met during a philosophy class years ago. A man he supposes still moves in the shady parts of cyberspace. Maybe he can help with tracking Riccardo. Sleep is overrated.

Did you like it? Please like, comment or/and reblog! ❤️

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knitastically @jaskierthelover @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly

#father quart #father quart fanfic #father quart fic #father quart x oc #the man from rome #la piel del tambor #the seville communion #fanfiction #richard armitage #richard armitage fanfic

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agapaic · 3 years ago

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[19 days] whiplash [ch. 365 after-shot]

The shop will be closing soon. He’s seen an attendant wandering around, who will probably ask him to leave in the next five minutes. There’s no one else here. His clothes are vivid against the neon glow of the tanks. The fish cast strange shadows on his shirt, living out a second life on his skin.

They swim in half-circles before sharply changing direction, never touching the glass. He wonders if they know it’s there, as if they can sense some immovable wall that holds them back.

He’s not getting deep about this. He could contemplate, quite extensively, about how their freedom must be bought by some higher power, and they would really only go from one tank to the next, slightly bigger, slightly richer. It’s all fake shit, and he remembers that in some ways he’s got it better than an animal. He can, at least, run away. Maybe he won’t get far. Just to the edges of the city villages where he’ll get a job earning less than before and lose his place in school.

Guan Shan puts a finger on the glass in front of him. There’s a label in the corner, peeling away from the glass. Veiltail goldfish. They have wispy, membrane-like tails. He could put his hand on the other side and see all the way through. Guan Shan watches the only black fish in the tank move placidly through the water.

Beneath the label, a smaller one: Black moor. For a minute he considers tugging the label off and putting it in his pocket, a little secret. He remembers that would be stealing, in some way, and someone in the shop would have to go to the effort of printing and laminating and reapplying the label just for one fish.

Guan Shan turns away.

He wanders for a few more minutes. He’s aware of his reflection in the glass. He worries about how long the attendant will let him stay there, and the thought that they will make him leave makes him feel slightly sick. He likes it here—the quiet, the muted hum of the tanks, the strange lights. They make him feel somewhere else.

His mother is working the night shift and won’t be home until just before he’s meant to go to school the next morning. They’ll have long enough together that he could tell her he got fired from the shop, but not long enough that he could reasonably pretend to have forgotten as he tugs on his uniform and slips out the front door.

She won’t be mad—she never is.

She can’t take on another shift.

Mentally, he has started taking stock. His Xbox is a few years old, but he’ll get something for it. He has a stack of old music magazines from his dad that could catch the eye of a collector. His computer, maybe.

The earrings.

His stomach twists.

Really, it’s not much. It’ll earn them a month, which could be just long enough for him to get another job, but what’s the likelihood of that in a city where most kids are just trying to bulk their CV’s for their college applications. Besides, his grades speak for themselves. He got lucky with the shop, and lightning doesn’t strike twice.

‘Hey, kid. We’re closing soon, so unless you wanna buy something…’

Guan Shan nods. His shoulders round.

For no logical reason, he says: ‘Can I take a goldfish?’

‘Sure. The black moor? Saw you had your eye on that one.’

‘No, one of the others.’

The attendant comes up next to him. ‘Just the one? They don’t like being on their own, you know.’

He presses his jaw tightly. A small sound comes out of him. He looks at the price tag and is somehow shocked and saddened to see the figure so low.

‘Fine,’ he says. ‘The black one, too, I guess.’

He pays, then leaves. It’s late enough that the streets are quieter than he expected. He’s usually home by now, his shift over, reheating leftovers while he works on his homework. He stands there while the shop attendant locks up behind him, holding the plastic bag with two fish in his hand. He feels stupid. Behind his eyes, he can feel a sort of stinging sensation.

He has the unnameable urge to grab one of the passing strangers and tell them how he’s feeling, what has happened, what could happen. On some level he knows that everyone has their own problems, and he’s not the type of person to overstep his bounds. Instead, he watches them pass, and after a few more minutes he goes to the nearest subway station and gets the train home.

He had half expected He Tian to find him on the street. He’d imagined it, He Tian catching his arm as he wandered from store to store, deliberating at large windows with thin mannequins and expensive jewellery without price tags. There is a part of him that’s disappointed that it didn’t play out like this, a part of him that is even angrier to find He Tian sitting in the stairwell of his apartment when he eventually does get home.

It’s close to midnight, and the stairwell is clinically quiet. Outside, the stars are dusty and covered in a thin layer of smog that is less noticeable in the day. He Tian looks exhausted. He’s the type of good looking where even the slightest imperfection somehow makes him even more attractive. Guan Shan hates it.

He stands when Guan Shan walks in, suddenly filling the space, and Guan Shan says, ‘Get outta my way.’

‘Where have you been?’

Guan Shan shoulders past him. There’s a moment where he thinks He Tian will grab him around the shoulders, the air around him simmering enough that Guan Shan is convinced it’s a near thing, choking with danger, but he lets him pass. He follows Guan Shan up the staircase, his footsteps silent, his body casting long shadows on the steps where Guan Shan sets his feet.

At the door, Guan Shan pockets the notice that’s taped there, knowing He Tian has already seen it. Less sharply, he picks up the notes in He Tian’s and Jian Yi’s writing and folds them into careful squares.

‘You’re not comin’ in,’ he says.

‘I called you, like, fifty times. Did you block me?’

Guan Shan thinks He Tian sounds angrier than he really has a right to be. He turns and presses his back to the door. He has his keys clenched tightly in a closed fist.

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to talk to you. I thought you would’ve gotten that.’

‘I can get you another job. Something better paid.’

‘You’re so fuckin’ clueless.’

He Tian’s eyes tighten.

‘You’re ruining my life,’ says Guan Shan.

‘That’s—that isn’t true. I’ve helped you. You would’ve been expelled if—’

‘Maybe I would’ve gotten expelled. But I wouldn’t have had She Li on my dick all the time, would I? Wouldn’t need you to get me a job ‘cause you made me lose my last one, would I? You’re just—stickin’ a bandage on shit when you hurt me first.’

‘It’s not always like that. Don’t make it sound like it’s always like that.’

Guan Shan shakes his head. ‘I want you to go. I told you I didn’t want to see you again. Fuck off.’

He Tian says, ‘Let me pay what was on the door.’

‘Fuck off.’

He Tian doesn’t move and Guan Shan squeezes his eyes shut. He’s going to cry again, the frustration bubbling sourly in the back of his throat. He doesn’t trust himself to open the door while He Tian is still here because he knows he’ll probably let him in.

‘Do I really make you feel like a failure?’

Guan Shan rubs at his eyes with his fist. His voice comes hoarse and thick: ‘I am a failure. Bein’ around you just makes it so much more fuckin’ obvious.’

He doesn’t want He Tian’s pity when he says this, or his reassurance. He’s just being honest. Saying it out loud is kind of breathlessly relieving. He couldn’t say something like that to his mother, or any of the teachers at school. He couldn’t say it to Grey, who he’s known for years. He Tian knows more about him than anyone. It’s a terrifying thought.

If they never see each other again, will He Tian tell everyone the things Guan Shan has told him? About the restaurant and his dad, or about She Li and the things Guan Shan has let him do to him? He feels vulnerable and sick thinking about it, completely powerless, as he does a lot of the time when he’s around He Tian.

He oscillates between that feeling of uselessness and the feeling of being so empowered that he thinks it must be what being high or drunk feels like. That latter has him trusting his own convictions, having an unadulterated faith in himself like jumping from a bridge and thinking he might just fly—so long as He Tian is with him. He doesn’t like how it’s one or the other, empowered or powerless, and rarely anything in between. He’s heard adults on TV talking about being codependent, pulled punishingly into each other's orbit, and he wonders if this is the same thing.

In the end he supposes it doesn’t really matter. So what if He Tian tells everyone? Probably, he won’t see the rest of the year out at school. He’ll get a job on a different side of the city and no one will hear from him ever again. The embarrassment will all be internal and will only last a week or two. Then life will move on. He wishes he were older and wiser and better at believing this. He wishes it didn’t feel like the universe might fall out from beneath him.

‘Doesn’t matter what I do, it turns to shit,’ he tells He Tian. ‘No matter how hard I work, I’m never gonna earn enough. I can spend three hours studyin’ for a test and still come last. If it isn’t She Li, then it’ll be someone else. I just—I can’t catch a fuckin’ break, He Tian. But you do somethin’ and you come first every time. Life’s so easy for you.’

He Tian shifts from side to side. ‘Do you think things wouldn’t feel so hard if you stopped focussing on what you think my life is like?’

‘You’re pissin’ me off.’

‘I don’t know how I’m meant to help you. You won’t let me give you money. It’s like pulling teeth from you just trying to know what’s going on with you. What are you so fucking afraid of?’

‘I never asked for your help.’

‘You shouldn’t have to—that’s why we’re friends.’

‘I never said I wanted to be your friend.’

He Tian frowns, his look very serious. He isn’t teasing tonight. Neither is Guan Shan. There is the sense that their interactions are always anything but teasing, really, some dark undercurrent that runs between the two of them like dark veins.

He Tian says, ‘Are those fish?’

For a moment Guan Shan thinks he’s joking, deflecting wildly to distract from the seriousness of what Guan Shan has just said. Then he feels the crinkle of a plastic bag in his hand and, remembering how he’d just spent the last few hours, nearly drops the two goldfish onto the floor.

‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘You don’t have a tank.’

‘Yeah, no. I don’t know why I bought them.’

He Tian hesitates. There is a curious, predictable gleam in his eyes. ‘Red and black?’

‘It’s all they had left at the store.’

He Tian is looking intently at the bag. ‘Do you remember when we went to the aquarium? And you said I wasn’t someone you could forget?’

‘I just meant that—’

‘I know what you meant. But I always pretend like you meant it the other way.’

Guan Shan thinks, Don’t you think things would be easier if you stopped focusing on what you want me to mean and what I actually mean?

Instead of saying anything, he looks down at his sneakers. They’re scuffed and starting to rip at the seams. The thought of having to buy new ones makes him panic and the thought of buying a pair of second-hand ones online makes him panic even more. There’s no shame in it, but the thought of wearing someone else’s clothes makes him feel strange, especially when he knows He Tian could buy fifty pairs without blinking.

Guan Shan considers that thought and replays what He Tian has just said about focusing on his life too much more than his own. Maybe part of that is true.

Before He Tian, did he always feel things so intensely? Did the bad always feel so fucking awful? He knows that things were mechanical, and he was mean and didn’t think much about other people in particularly nice ways. He knows he didn’t laugh much then, or have dinners and sleepovers with friends. He knows everything hurt on a distant, muted level that was easy to ignore. Not much time has passed since then, and he reasons that nothing about him has probably changed, just everything else around him.

‘I can’t understand why you won’t let me help you,’ says He Tian, when the silence has stretched too long.

‘Because I’ll get used to it.’

He Tian frowns, not understanding.

‘One day, you’re not gonna be around. And I’ll be fucked.’

‘I’ll always be there for you.’

‘You don’t know that. People say that a lot and then they disappear or get taken away, even if they didn’t want to.’

It’s obvious they’re talking about his dad, but it feels safer to talk about things in vague, subjective conversation. Maybe things would be easier if they talked openly about things and didn’t use metaphors and hypotheticals. As it is, Guan Shan doesn’t feel ready to try the alternative. He is conscious of the fact that this feels like a conversation. They are passing words back and forth that hold meaning and neither of them has touched the other yet. It feels new and fragile as an oil painting, still wet, and so he doesn’t let himself think about this for long.

‘I think you’re getting this wrong,’ says He Tian. ‘I’m not asking you to rely on me. Obviously, I’d kind of like that. I like the thought of you needing me, and I know that says something about me. But—I’m just asking you to let me help you. Just here and there, no strings.’

Guan Shan rubs his forehead with the back of his knuckles. His keys are starting to pinch his skin and he can feel a headache starting to surface.

‘I’m tired,’ he says. ‘I actually do want you to go.’

He Tian’s jaw clenches and he breathes out heavily through his nose. He’s probably thinking he’s wasted his time.

‘Okay,’ he says then. ‘But we’re not done.’

A new wave of exhaustion comes over Guan Shan, crippling and final. He wants to get into bed with his skin against cold sheets and sleep for twelve hours without waking once.

‘You’re not the only one that ever gets to decide that,’ he tells He Tian, a little sharply. ‘You’ve gotta learn to let people go.’

‘But what if I know I can help them?’ says He Tian. ‘If I don’t, I’ve just—failed.’

They look at each other.

A minute stretches into an eternity that could be seconds or hours, and everything has gone backwards. Everything is the same.

Guan Shan can’t put his finger on what has just happened, but he feels like laughing. Their fears are twinned, self-perpetuating, some kind of ouroboros chasing its tail. Who will get caught first?

They both seem to take in a breath at the same time, and He Tian takes a step back.

‘Goodnight,’ he says.

Guan Shan nods. He waits for He Tian’s retreating back to disappear a few flights down before opening the door to his apartment, and shuts it swiftly behind him.

There’s a knock at the door while he’s brushing his teeth. The fish are swimming placidly in their bag on the edge of the bathroom sink. It’s past one, and he keeps all the lights off because his eyes are feeling sore. He’s adjusted to the dim glow that comes from street lamps seeping through the curtains, the blink of the timer on the electric stove, his Xbox gleaming in his bedroom. His mother shouldn’t be home yet and she has her own set of keys.

With a sinking heart, Guan Shan pictures his landlord demanding payment.

Worse, he pictures He Tian. Before He Tian left, they’d resolved nothing. It feels like being back to square one, chasing each other around a chess board. It fills him with a vast emptiness that makes him feel like he’s existing outside of himself, waiting for someone else to take over.

He pads silently towards the front door, his toothbrush jammed into his cheek, and peers through the viewer. There’s toothpaste dripping down his chin. In the hall, there’s no one there. He’s half-convinced he imagined it. He counts to ten before he opens the door, steps out—and his foot connects with something hard. There is a cardboard box sitting on the welcome mat.

Guan Shan peers around. The light in the stairwell is artificially bright. He kneels down and opens the tabs on the box, which hasn’t been taped. He swallows.

For the fish, says the note on the second box, nestled inside the first. Careful, it’s fragile.

Guan Shan rubs the heel of a palm into his right eye. He sighs. Then he reaches out, braces himself, and picks up the tank. He carries it into his apartment, and the door locks behind him.

thank you for reading! if you’d like to support me on my ko-fi/request a short drabble, you can do so here: https://ko-fi.com/agapaic 💞

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #my fanfic #sorry for errors - it's late but i couldn't get this out my head

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prettytoxicrevolver · 4 years ago

Text

The Four Times it Rained with Anthony Beauvillier and The One Time it Didn't

Requested? Absolutely not

Warnings? It's really long with like no dialogue LMAO

Summary: The rain has always brought good things to you and Tito but what happens when it's actually sunny out?

Word Count: 4k

It's really mf long but I promise it's worth it and I'm super proud of it so enjoy! :)

One

When you awoke to the sound of rain pounding steadily on your rooftop your heart filled with glee like a little kid in a candy store. Nothing made you happier than when it rained outside. You loved having the opportunity to sit inside and work all day with the patter of rain smacking the rooftop.

However, today was even better. You had no work and nowhere to be, your all-time favorite kind of rainy day. You always took these days to finish up your favorite books, watch the movies you’ve been holding off on for ages, revel in the ending of your favorite tv shows that have been put off, order in food, and just enjoy the sound of the rain.

It was a cliche, of course, most of your favorite things typically were. It didn’t make you love them any less, in fact, it made you love them a little more. Thinking about how you and however many other people were absolutely content with the fact that it was pouring outside.

And to make things better? Tito had the day off too.

You were a bit surprised when you woke up to the rain and not your best friend either calling, knocking on the door, or just barging straight in like he owned the place. He practically did, always coming over and spending more time at your apartment than he did his own. He certainly wasn’t unwelcome, you loved every moment you got to spend with the left-wing Islander.

Just as you sit up in bed, running a hand through your hair you hear a knock on the door. Knowing it’s no doubt, Tito, at the source, you shoot him a text telling him to come in using his spare key. You listen to the quiet sounds of the rain against the window as your best friend lets himself inside your apartment.

You fall back in bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and snuggle deep into the warmth. You hear a quiet knock on your bedroom door before Tito lets himself in. Your head turns, a tiny smile at the sight of your best friend and he reflects it. He makes his way over to you, climbing in bed and slipping an arm around your waist. He pulls you into his chest, pressing his face into your hair and you both sigh in content at the feeling.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel like fire against your skin and how your heart’s steady tempo has slowly increased at the mere thought of him. Gentle warmth floods your body when Tito presses a kiss to the back of your neck, the action causing your heart to act as an elevator, rising and falling without rhyme or reason.

You both fall asleep for a while, the rain lulling you into a tired state and soaking up the rest you both had been sorely lacking after your busy weeks. You awoke for the second time that day to Tito’s hands lazily tracing patterns on your arms.

“Hi,” you murmur, turning in his embrace.

“Hey,” he greets back his tiny smile growing wider. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Getting bored laying here?” you ask.

“Never,” he says, throwing a wink at you that has your stomach doing backflips.

Tito has to turn away from you as his cheeks burn red at your sleep-ridden state. His heart mimics the rain outside a steady patter fast against the rooftop just like his heart against his ribcage. He stands, holding a hand out to you which you take and you let him pull you up and out of bed, leading you towards the living room.

You both fall onto the couch, Tito pulls your legs over his and slips an arm back around your waist. He hated being away from your touch for too long. Your head falls comfortable onto his chest and you’re certain your eyes may flutter shut once more.

Tito peruses the movies before him and ultimately decides on a random marvel one that he’s never seen before but you most definitely have. He watches as your eyes light up at the sight of your favorite superhero on screen, and you launch into the explanation of the plot for him.

He can barely focus, only thinking about how easy it would be to release the three simple words that would change everything. Or press a kiss to your soft-looking lips in an attempt to hush you so he can actually watch and listen to the movie. Unfortunately fear captures his heart a little tighter than the love he has for you.

You turn back to look at your best friend, expecting at least a hum in response, and when you notice his eyes have been on you the entire explanation your cheeks flush. You wondered what he was thinking about, and hoped it was the same thing you were.

“You okay?” you ask, pulling him back to reality.

“Yeah,” he reassures. “All good.”

You nod, a tiny smile on your lips as you look back at the TV. Tito tries to focus for you but he can only think about how much he loves you.

Two

It was a bad habit for you to leave all of your shopping to one day a week. You always ended up running out of something you desperately needed but were too lazy to go out and buy.

However, today seemed to be turning out equal parts bad and equal parts good. The good thing was that you were able to convince Tito to come with you shopping and carry some (he would argue most) of your groceries home. The somewhat bad? It looked like it might rain.

You tried to make your way through the store as quickly as possible, the impending storm looming in the back of your head as you shop. However, your best friend is of no help to you.

"Tito" you call for the billionth time. "Put it back."

The older boy pouts, reaching into your cart to pull out the fruit snacks he just threw in. You smile widely at him, and before you can move the cart once more, Tito climbs onto the front of it.

“Onward!” he yells pointing in the opposite direction and you giggle while pushing the cart slowly along as to not hit anyone or anything.

The rest of the shopping goes just as smoothly, your heart filling up with air similar to a balloon that doesn’t know when it’s going to pop. Sometimes looking at your best friend was too much and you became scared you’d let the feelings spill out all over the floor.

Tito would do anything to see you smile or laugh. It was nothing short of embarrassing himself or nearly killing himself in the middle of a grocery store aisle where he could easily be recognized in the small area of Long Island. As long as your head was thrown back in laughter, a wide smile stretched across your lips, and the promise of a sometimes yelled “Tito!” or “beau!” expelled from you was there, it was worth it.

After checking out, you two split up the bags and start to make the trek back to your apartment. You were beyond glad you had brought Tito along with you, making the trip much easier on you and providing plenty of entertainment along the way. As you walk, the clouds start to rumble and you cast a nervous glance over to the tall brunette. Tito grins back at you, just enjoying your presence, not a care for the impending weather.

A crack of thunder rolls in causing you to jump and pick up your speed. You were about two blocks from your house but the world had other plans for you. Just as you were rounding a block away, it starts to pour.

“Fuck!” you yell pausing in the street.

You look over and Tito is grinning like a maniac, the smile on his lips shooting straight to your heart. You can’t help but reflect it, he looks beautiful rain-soaked and his blue eyes lit up at the wonder of it all.

Tito had always been grateful for the rain. It had always brought good things to him and the world. Right now it easily brought him his favorite thing he’s ever witnessed. Your hair is soaked, plastering messily against your face as you whip around to look at him. A smile bigger than he had ever seen sits perfectly on your lips and that sound that he loves more than anything in the world is there, the laugh that makes his heart rise to the top of the empire state building and teeter over the side with nerves.

God, he loved you.

Without a second thought, he intertwines your hands, grabbing your bags out of your other hand and hauling them into his own. He starts tugging you along, trying to push down the fact that your hands feel like they’re made specifically for him and that he never wants to let go.

You make it back to your apartment, your heart pounding for a different reason for once. When you get inside, Tito drops the groceries by the door and you both turn to each other still giggling quietly. Tito’s hand is still interlocked with yours, his calluses rubbing against your palm and sending shockwaves through your veins.

He pulls you in, his other hand coming to wrap around your waist. Your soaked bodies inch closer until they’re flush and you’re staring into his mesmerizing blue eyes. Your free hand wraps around the back of his neck, your fingers trailing the buzz-cut hair on the back of his neck.

Tito was pretty sure you might be the death of him. Looking down at your soaked state, peering up at him and the movement of your hands, he’s surprised his heart hadn’t stopped yet. He wants to lean down, finally meet his lips to yours, and fall headfirst into a relationship with you without considering any of the consequences.

You were hoping that one of you was finally going to build the nerve to change everything. Your heart is tipping on the edge of wishing and hoping. Just as your noses brush, a loud crack of thunder sounds, and you both jump, the possibility scaring you along with the noise.

Three

Today was not turning out to be a good day. Besides the prospect of rain later, you had barely gotten any work done, your finals were coming up soon, and you hadn’t seen Tito in weeks.

So the last one is slightly exaggerated. You had seen Tito, mostly through facetime calls and the occasional quick stop by but he was mostly on the road and you were sorely missing your best friend. You’d kill to have him here, even if it was for longer than an hour, you’d do anything to have him next to you.

You knew it was somewhat selfish, but you needed him here. Needed his encouraging words, his soft touches, his sweet smiles, just his presence. You knew his schedule though, understood his job and what came with it and you knew he’d never trade it for the world, you never wanted him to.

Tito was homesick. Not particularly for his apartment, or even the island itself, he was desperate to see you. He missed your laugh, and holding your hand, cuddling together late at night, waking up early to your sleeping state, forehead kisses, and his favorite: your laugh. He was desperate for it, the physical version of it.

However, when he heard the Isles were headed home for a quick weekend stint he knew he wasn’t close to heading back to his apartment. He headed straight towards you, his other half even if it was unbeknownst to you. He had decided a while ago that even if you never reciprocate his feelings, you were still his twin flame, his platonic soulmate forever and always.

He headed to your apartment with excitement, checking your location on his phone to see that you were there. In the cab on the way, it starts to rain and Tito can’t help but smile. He had always loved the rain but he was almost certain it had slowly started to become a beacon of good things especially surrounding you.

A wave of calm flows through him when he reaches your front door, he feels like a little kid receiving the Christmas present that they had been asking for all year. He hadn’t even seen you yet and the thought occurs to him that he always wants to come home to you after long weeks away.

You sit in your apartment, flipping aimlessly through your textbook in an attempt to get some work done. The rain plinks softly against your apartment window and the noise soothes you as you try to focus. However, just as you start to, a knock on your door sounds. You’re wary at first but make your way over to it swinging it open without a second thought.

“Anthony-” you breath out, your best friend’s first name foreign on your tongue.

Tito barges in, wrapping his arms around your waist and you instantly slip yours around his neck. You relish in the feeling of him being here and back in your arms. You almost let out a whine when he pulls away from you but his hands trail from your waist to your hands and interlock them.

“Come on,” he says with a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Where-” you start but Tito shakes his head, pulling you out of the apartment and dragging you along.

You’re so caught up in the fact that Tito is here, and his hand has slipped back into yours that all you can do is take in his appearance. Whenever he’s gone for a long time he always seems different but more and more like home to you. When he comes back it’s like your last puzzle piece is put in place and you’re whole again.

You both make your way down the floors of your apartment building until you’re outside. Tito lets go of your hand, stepping out onto the sidewalk and letting the rain fall over him. You watch as a loving smile falls onto your lips, the rain cascades over him, his hair falling flat against his forehead, and an unknowing smile pressed on his face.

“Come here,” he tells you and at first you shake your head no.

Beau was definitely not taking that answer today. He makes his way over to you, slipping an arm around your waist and lifting you into his arms and out into the rain. You shriek as the cold raindrops fall over you and you tuck your face into Tito’s neck.

He sets you down but doesn’t let go, his hand still circling your waist. He nudges your arms until they slide around his neck again, your fingers interlocking at the nape. He grins wildly down at you and your heart fills and fills at the sight. He slowly sways the two of you back and forth, dancing to music only known between you two.

“I missed you,” he says after a few quiet beats.

“I missed you too beau.”

Your swaying moves to a dull rocking back and forth, the two of you focused more on each other than anything else in the world. Neither of you realized it, but when the other was around the whole world seemed to fall away in an instant. There was no use trying to get between the two of you.

Beau leans down, your foreheads bumping lightly and your breath shortens at the proximity of the two of you. He leans forward, his nose brushing yours and for once you’re begging for his lips to meet yours, not caring about what might change between the two of you after.

“Hey! Get out of the street!”

You and Tito pull apart heads whipping in the direction of a car driving right at you. You both laugh at the ridiculousness of it all before heading back inside, the rain only picking up harder.

Four

“One more exam. Just one more final exam.”

You chanted the words over and over again in your head hoping they would somehow motivate you into finishing your work and studying for the last exam you had for the school year. You even went as far as going to the library, deciding to hole yourself up there the entire day to try and get something done.

Tito would text you occasionally, mostly offering words of encouragement as you worked and every time your phone buzzed an unconscious smile reached your lips. Tito had always been your cheerleader and vice versa. You were always there for each other and pushing each other forward whenever you needed it.

Your corner of the library was cozy, you sat, your legs tucked up in the loveseat next to the window. The rain fell slowly down the side of the building and you watched two raindrops drip down, an unknown race there.

Your eyes fall back to the textbook in front of you, flipping through the pages trying to absorb more information than you already have all day. As you work, suddenly a hand appears in front of you, a cup of coffee being placed down on the table in front of you. Your eyes trail up and you find a grinning Tito standing before you.

“Thought you might need an energy boost,” he says sitting down in front of you.

Your heart practically bursts at the sight. Tito had known you hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep recently and was worried about you. However, he also knew you were easily the most stubborn person in his life. If he couldn’t beat you, he might as well support your caffeine addiction in hopes that by the end of finals you’ll finally get some rest.

“Have I mentioned recently you’re my favorite person in the world?”

Tito grins dropping his head down shyly and you take the opportunity to grab the coffee and take a sip of it. You hum at the taste, a soft smile appearing on your lips when you realize that Tito has memorized your coffee order, something no one else has had the energy to do.

“I also wanted to make sure you get home okay,” he says nodding to the ever-growing rainstorm outside.

Your whole body warms at the words, a blush dusting your cheeks. Tito was nothing if not a gentleman and every time a display like this showed, your heart fell further and further into his hands. You place the cup down in front of you, leaning forward to place a hand on Tito’s knee.

“Thank you, darling,” you say and you swear you see a blush on Tito’s cheeks.

Your eyes search his as the only noise in the library is the sound of the rain against the building and the soft sounds of the workers meandering around. You swear gravity pulls you towards each other, Tito’s hand coming up to cup your cheek. His thumb brushes softly against your skin, the contact making your heart freeze and speed up all at once.

“Excuse me loves, the library is closing.”

You and Tito smile and nod at the sweet woman, breaking apart slowly before gathering your things and heading out together.

And One

The sun shines high in the sky, easily one of the nicest days on long island in months. Spring was melting away into summer and the warm air had you dying to get out and visit the ocean even if it was just for a little bit.

While Tito knew of your love for the rain, the breakthrough of sun was welcomed by the two of you. It was unspoken that when the sun had risen, and the temperature broke seventy, you wanted to spend a little time at the beach together.

You disliked the beach normally, not liking the sand that gets everywhere, the obnoxious teens yelling loudly, kids running around without parents, it just bothered you. But you loved the feeling of warm wind running through your hair as you drive, windows down, and the smell of the ocean air.

Tito shows up on your doorstep, and without a word, you two are out the door and heading towards your car. You climb in, hands immediately rolling down your windows and sunroof while Tito picks the music. You had an unspoken communication to go to the beach today and you were beyond excited.

Tito always looked gorgeous to you. In the sun? His blue eyes shine a bit brighter, his smile seeming to reflect the warmth that the sun brought you inside and out. He was breathtaking.

You were a work of art to Tito. Your hair blew back from your face, whipping around the small space. A light smile had been present since he showed up on your doorstep. Your (y/e/c) lit up from the sun and him. From head to toe, he would never grow tired of looking at you.

When you got to the beach, you parked in a spot overlooking the water. The two of you get out of the car, and Tito gestures to the hood. He stands before you, hands placed gently on your hips, and lifts you onto your car with ease, his hockey training coming in handy.

He hops up next to you, settling down on the hood and overlooking the beautiful ocean. His leg touches yours, starting at your feet and following through to your hips. The contact drives you crazy, making it feel like it’s ten degrees hotter as your nerves spike. It’s surprisingly quiet, the ocean rushing in and out before you, a light wind pushing your hair back effortlessly.

Your hands sit in your lap, nervously fiddling together. Tito glances at you constantly, his eyes trailing to your hands and he builds the courage to slip his fingers into yours. At the contact, you squeeze his hand lightly and that gives Tito all he needs.

“Hey,” he says, making you turn to look at him.

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek and you lean into the touch instinctively. His head ducks to meet yours, your noses brushing and your breath catches in your throat. You watch Tito’s eyes flicker back and forth before pushing forward. His lips meet yours and you sigh at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your free hand comes to grip the side of his shirt and pull him as close as possible.

Your breathless the entire kiss, the thought that the older hockey player liking you back finally smacking you full force. His touch lights you up from head to toe and you never want him to break away.

Tito grew more and more confident within the kiss, and his heart continued to balloon in his chest bigger and bigger at your closeness, you were finally right where you were supposed to be.

You pull apart when there’s no breath left in your lungs but stay close. Tito chases your lips pressing another light kiss to them. You giggle at him and he smiles sheepishly, biting his lip slightly and gazing at you with those eyes that had you since you first met. Tito was still on cloud nine at the thought of you loving him back.

“I really really like you,” he whispers and you giggle. He could have said absolutely nothing, he could have kissed you again, or simply kept holding your hand but the words said out loud made your heart do backflips like it was an olympian training for the gold medal.

“I like you too.”

“And I really wanna kiss you again.”

You smile lovingly at him before pressing your lips to his, something that would never fail to make your heart stop.

#anthony beauvillier imagine #nhl imagine #tito beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier fic #anthony beauvillier x reader #anthony beauvillier x y/n #tito beauvillier fic #tito beauvillier x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl islanders fic #imagine #fic #x reader #x y/n

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sailorhyunjinz · 4 years ago

Text

~ Heated ~

Warnings: Hybrid!au, bunny!fem!reader x wolf!dom!Bangchan x kitty!dom!Minho, threesome, consensual sex (YALL BE SAFE), penetrative sex (AGAIN, BE SAFE), reader goes into heat idfk?, jealousy (like a lot), nicknames (bunny, slut), sliiight dacryphilia, blowjobs, fingering, cum eating, creampie.

Word Count: 2,556 words (YO CHILL)

Requested: YE thank u anon *tips fedora*

Note: YALL this is the first time ive EVER written something like this and tbh i didn’t even know wtf hybrids did so i did my research lmao and if this sounds hella uneducated it’s because i am.... i studied biology in school but... not this 😳

Also I CANT FIND ANY GOOD GIFS OF THEM TOGETHER

A bunny, a wolf and a cat in the same space was anything but calm. You knew because that’s how you lived.

“Y/n! We’re leaving” exclaimed Bangchan from the hallway. They had some sort of meeting to attend which they told you about at dinner yesterday. You ran to the hallway in order to say farewell to your two loving boyfriends, that small tail of yours wiggling in the air.

Being much smaller than they were you jumped a tiny bit to reach their lips, kissing them goodbye.

“Be safe!” you yelled out the door as you saw their figures disappear.

“We will!” they yelled back in unison before the three of you giggled.

You were hit by the cold breeze from outside as you closed the heavy front door. Already missing them you sat down on the grey couch, throwing a blanket over yourself and putting on some TV show.

Hours later you heard a distinct chatter getting closer. It was Bangchan and Minho! The door handle of the front door rustled and your ears jerked to the location from where the sound was coming from. The two boys walked into the shared apartment giggling and chatting but something wasn’t right. Your scent never deceived you and in that moment you could have sweared that the smell of another female hybrid was lurking around them. You walked up to them and hugged both the boys, not wanting to make a scene just as they entered. Minho patted you on the head and ears and as you stood closer to the duo there was no doubt in your mind that they had been around another female in her heat since the pheromones change during that time.

“Had fun?” you asked them while they took of their shoes.

“It was alright” Minho said plainly. You were confused by the lack of emotions on his face. He walked straight by you, tail just as emotionless as his face. Bangchan pecked your forehead as your eyes were still glued to Minhos figure.

“What’s with him?” you asked the bigger boy.

“I..I don’t know y/n”. His voice sounded unsure and that only added to your suspicion. The smell of a female hybrid was still hitting your nose and so without thinking you blurted out to Bangchan;

“Were you near other girls?”

He was caught off guard by your brash question. His shaking pupils and flattened ears gave you an answer which made your blood boil.

“I can smell it on you Bangchan, don’t lie” you said with a stern voice while you looked up intensely at the boy.

He was frozen in place and couldn’t form a sentence before you slammed him towards the wall. Maybe slammed is a overexaggeration, more like pushed because he was double your size.

“Ok y/n! We might have...hugged a female and then realized she was going through her heat but we didn’t mean it!” he blurted out, scared of the fact that your ears were now tight against your head.

Now you understood why Minho had run off in such a hurry. When another female was in her heat it could trigger other hybrids as well and you felt the effects right away. Not only were you aggravated but helplessly rubbing your thighs together.

You stepped aside letting Bangchan go to which he did the same thing as Minho and hurried out of your sight. You stood there dumbfounded and horny. They had caused a problem and now they were going to have to fix it. Stomping, you made your way to the room from where you heard anxious chatter which was the bedroom.

“BANGCHAN AND MINHO!” you flung the bedroom door open and the chatter died down. You were met with two pairs of freightened eyes staring at you from the bedroom floor.

“Uhm...y-y/n... are you sure that you aren’t going through your heat right now?” Minho said hesitantly not wanting to annoy you even more.

You bolted to the cat-like boy and with a handful of this t-shirt you threw him against the wall, nearly knocking down a picture frame. Yet again, ‘threw’ being an overexaggeration but what wasn’t an overexaggeration was your temper.

Minho’s breath hitched as his back hit the wall Bangchan was still glued to the floor, not moving in fear of pissing you off even more. You looked Minho dead into the eyes but you were immedietly flustered as he smirked, responding to your eye contact with his slightly yellow cat eyes. The smirk turned into a insulting laughter as he licked his lips. His shadow was cast on you which made you appear small in comparison. The catboy approached you slowly, his fluffy tail standing up and wagging from side to side. Your ears got low as you backed away from him, still looking into his yellow marbled eyes. Bangchan’s gaze moved along your movements and stopped when you were blocked by the bed and couldn’t move away any longer. You sat down on the bed making you even smaller as Minho towered over you. His soft tail brushed against your arm sending a shiver down your spine. His ears twitched once before he bent down, feeling his warm breath against your cheek as he looked you into those innocent bunny eyes.

“Good bunnies don’t act like that, isn’t that right Bangchan?”

Your eyes shifted towards the wolf-like boy that had now stood up and was getting closer to you. You clenched your thighs together as you felt bare under Minhos intense gaze.

“Look at our little bunny, feeling desperate?” Bangchan cooed as he spread your legs with his foot, leaning towards you just like Minho.

“It’s n-not fair!” you proclaimed, leaning back on your hands against the bed and gripping the bedsheets, squeezing the fabric tightly.

“What’s not fair? It’s not our fault our little bunny is such a slut and heats so easily” he purred towards you. He wasn’t wrong.

Bangchan sat down beside you, feeling the weight of the bed shift. He snaked his big hands up your thigh eventually reaching your sopping cunt. You grinded against his hand and tried to gain some sort of friction between his warm hand and your clothed pussy. Minho grinned before he crashed his lips onto yours and once again his smugness shoked you. The kiss was wet and sloppy in contrast to his teeth that were sharp. You moaned in the kiss as Bangchan had slipped his hand underneath your panties and was now feeling your wet folds.

“We’ve barely done anything bunny” he growled against your ear as his canines poked out of his mouth. You shuddered, not only from Bangchans voice but how his two digits entered into your aching cunt at the same time Minho was swirling his tongue around yours.

Bangchan took off his clothes and then yours while the kiss advanced. Minho tilted his head and cupped your face into his hands as he rubbed his thumbs across your cheeks. You broke the kiss to catch a breath of air but before you knew it Bangchan layed you down on the bed, hovering above your naked figure. In the corner of your eye you saw Minho slowly undressing, his hardening member springing out of his underwear.

Bangchan attached his plump lips on yours that were slightly swollen from the intense kiss earlier. His hands roamed free on your body and kneaded your breasts firmly. The small whimpers that came out of your mouth only teased Bangchan more, now sucking purple marks onto your neck and boobs. Eventually he reached down to your throbbing cunt, kissing it a couple times before flattening his tongue against your folds. Moaning, you grabbed a fistful of his thick hair, pressing his face nearer. His tongue worked like magic as it twirled around your enlarged clit, feeling his sharp teeth from time to time when he softly nibbled on it. His tongue jabbed at you needy hole, making wet sounds everytime he did that. The pleasure was immense which was seen by the way your legs shaked. Bangchan saw the pained expression on your face as you were struggeling to part your legs and decided to give you a helping hand by pinning you things down to the bed, slowly tracing his fingers up and down them. Just as you arched your back Minho appeared and tapped Bangchan on the shoulder as a sign to move away. Bangchan nodded and sat further down the bed, pumping his raging erection as his eyes watched how Minho’s face got closer to yours. Those vertical slits in Minho’s eyes never failed to make you scared. His soft fingertips traced downwards as he stared at you and as his fingers reached your cunt that was sucked dry moments earlier he inserted two fingers without any precautions making your ears lurch up.

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him with a pleasurable expression on your face but he just smirked that teasing smirk yet again. His fingers pumped in and out of you at the same pace that Bangchan was pumping himself. His tip was coated with a drop of precum and his girth made your mouth water. When Minho’s fingers started reaching your g-spot you tightly shut your eyes as moans spilled out of you like liquid. He kissed you on your forehead before pulling out his fingers, leaving you empty. You groaned at the loss of contact but was quickly filled up again when Bangchan alined his member with your hole before sliding into you with ease. His tail brushed again your leg as he started pounding into you, not giving you any time to adjust. Minho couldn’t just sit there and jerk off, he needed to get into the action as well and so he yanked you by the hair, almost gripping your ears and rested his dick on your swollen lips. You looked up towards his cat-like face and hesitated because Bangchans was already sending you into overdrive. Minho saw the hesitation in your eyes before scoffing and saying;

“you wanted this slut”

He was right. You mouth was longing for his length. All hesitation washed away as you started sucking him off. First licking the tip before sinking down on his shaft, feeling him twitch inside your wet mouth. You were trying your best, bobbing your head up and down with speed but as Bangchan thursted into you harder and harder you couldn’t help but to occasionally let out a broken moan against Minho’s hard dick. This pissed him off. He pulled your hair, moving your face closer to abdomen as you choked on his dick.

“Suck it properly” he hummed before letting you go harshly. You coughed and moaned at the same time, all kind of sounds dribbling between your red lips.

Bangchan was close and you knew by the way his thrusts were getting more aggressive but just as a scream of pleasure was on it’s way out of you he pulled out. White ropes of cum covered your stomach and hipbone as Bangchan milked himself out of every drop, groaning and biting his lip while doing so. Minho pulled you up by your arm and harsly flipped you around on all fours. Now it was his time to have fun. His rock hard member entered your fuck out hole making you grip the sheets firmly, knuckles turning white. Even if he was smaller than Bangchan his dick sure wasn’t as it filled you up to the brim, the sensation of being stuffed coaxing a few whines from you. Minho held you by your hips and thrusted into you at an animalistic speed, the sound of skin slapping against each other filling the room. Your moans sharpened Bangchan’s ears and before he knew it his limp dick was hard yet again. Your head hanged down as you tightly shut your eyes, trying not to scream whilst gripping the sheets but you felt Bangchan’s hand cup your chin, lifting it up to face him. Looking up you saw his broad figure, his member right infront of your face. The look in his eyes was endearing, being a wolf hybrid he is often misinterpreted for being evil but you knew the love he had for both you and Minho. He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand before sliding two fingers across your lips. Without command you started sucking on them, earning a smirk from the wolf-like boy. Upon removing them a loud pop was heard and he instead replace them with his dick. Minho’s thrusts made you jerk forward, Bangchan’s dick hitting the back of your throat and accidentally choking you. Tears burned in the corners of your eyes but you kept looking at Bangchan through those tear stained eyes because his eyes were filled with love, reassuring you. The difference in pace and attitude almost broke you. Minho’s dick twitched inside of your cunt, his member fitting perfectly between your velvety walls while Bangchan was taking his time, gently moaning and looking at you, stroking your ears backwards as he admired how pretty you looked with his dick stuffed in your mouth with drool spilling from the corners of those petal-like lips.

Minho was going even faster, your boobs bounced with his movements and made you choke even more on Bangchan’s dick. He glared at Minho with narrowed eyes, angry that he made you uncomfortable and such a mess beneath him. Minho being the smug cat that he is didn’t care. He wanted to see you even more wrecked and so his last couple of thrusts were hard, pounding into you almost like a piston. Minho was getting more vocal, letting out groans and breathy moans. As you looked at Bangchan with a fucked out expression with his dick in your mouth Minho came inside of you. The white liquid coated your insides and make a squelching sound as Minho rode out his orgasm with small nudges into your pussy. Minho’s length was pulled out of you, his cum leaking in drops down your thighs. Bangchan’s head rolled back as his girthy dick twitched in your mouth once before his cum spewed down your throat. His canines poked out once again signaling pleasure as he patted you on the head. With a loving expression you looked him straight in those narrow eyes and swallowed, your adams apple bobbing from the action. He smiled down at you and pulled you up for a kiss as Minho’s cum was still dripping down your leg.

Bangchan pulled away from the kiss and layed down on the bed panting. Minho stepped inside the bedroom with a towel in his hand which he threw at you.

“You did well” he said shallowly before he muttered something under his breath. “Didn’t deserve it”.

Bangchan frowned towards the boy. “y/n always deserves it, shes our bunny after all” he said while wiping you down as you giggled when the touched your sensitive parts.

“Yeah but if you try to dominate me once more you won’t be able to walk” Minho said as he layed down onto the bed, pulling you closer to his slightly sweaty body.

“I-.. I won’t” you murmured but the three of you knew it was a lie.

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Text

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

Find my masterlist here

She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

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henqtic · 4 years ago

Text

𝘈𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘔𝘦 𝘈 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: Draco Malfoy. His name was registered in your mind as your enemy, plain and simple. A platinum blonde idiot who you’d find much more likable if he’s just shut up everyone in a while. But what would happen if your parents arranged for you both to attend the yule ball together- would some hidden feeling shine their way out?

warnings: mentions of arranged marriages, mentions of feeling anxious, feelings of self doubt, kissing, angry love confession, crying, a little angst, please contact me if theres more !

a/n: Also this is an au where the yuleball is in seventh year and no Voldemort <3

masterlist. // gif creds // taglist form.

When Dumbledore announced the yule ball to the school in the middle of the dinner, you were a bit excited. Excited at the idea that you’d have the chance to be asked to the dance by some nice boy and that could potentially lead to a relationship.

But being born into a family like yours, you couldn’t hope for much. Not even a week after they got the news, your mother and father made an arrangement with the Malfoy’s that you would have to attend the ball with their son Draco.

You could've sworn they had been trying to set you both up for some kind of arranged marriage. Maybe them pushing you together was a way to soften a blow when it finally happened? But still, out of any one they just had to choose him.

You had grown up with him, Draco, and if you hadn't already known— he was what you called a... bitch boy. He’d tattle about small things, throw a few temper tantrums, and cry to get his way. This is why even though your families had been so closely connected for years, centuries even— he was your enemy and nothing could change that.

That fact wasn’t hidden from your parents, not in the slightest. They saw the numerous dirty looks you’d throw at each other when you thought no one looking, not to mention the childish pulling of hairs and elbowing with shoulders.

But they also saw the good things about your relationship, how'd you do little things for each other that made a bigger impact than you thought, like it was second nature.

Like whenever another dinner party would come up where there were random families of investors, business owners or, just more snooty rich people— Draco would always make sure you were seated right next to him in the case that both of you had to show up.

It honestly wasn’t that much of a big deal from his view point. Only an idiot couldn’t tell that you found yourself uncomfortable around new people and him saving you a seat was just common decency.

And there was always little moments where they’d find you both curled into each other after one of the tense meetings you had to attend seeing as you’d be graduating soon and still had the responsibility of up keeping your family names once you were adults.

Draco would be there tenderly playing with your hands and venting. Because while he did come off as confident about everything in his life, how he had both the Malfoy and Black fortuned to fall back onto, you could tell he was still scared of the future— of growing up.

That fear is also what led to the very rushed apology he had offered to the golden trio for his past behavior. You did have to physically push him into them and he did choke up on the words of kindness that were supposed to make the apology sincere but he still did it.

They hadn't forgiven him of course, they just sort of stared like some one had cast an unforgivable curse on the boy seconds before, but at least they were now, they were civil towards each other.

And even though you did do those things for him, that didn’t stop you from not wanting to do this and neither did it stop you from impatiently waiting outside of the great hall doors.

Your dress was made out of nothing less of the finest fabrics and silks you could get your hands onto. You knew it wouldn't make a single dent into your families Gringotts account but you felt that the purchase would make some sort of statement.

“You’re five minutes late,” you seethed, watching as a head of white-blonde hair finally round the corner. His hands brushed his jacket in a smug manor, getting rid of the invisible dust particles.

It really wasn’t that much time, many other students could still be found wither waiting for their dates or just standing around to show up ‘fashionably late’.

But you knew Draco had spent those minutes staring at himself in the mirror and fixing his oh so perfect hair.

“Some of us like to look good when showing up to these things,” he sneered before eyeing you in disgust.

“Oh please, this dress cost more than the gel you have piled in your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you along with a scrunch of his nose as he offered you the junction between his folded arm to lead you down the steps.

The night had gone pretty well so far, both of you somehow never finding the right time to leave the others side as you had planned. It seemed as if your friends had all decided to hide themselves away from you both— like they were planning something. Of course, they were.

Blaise fucking Zabini

That idiot talked Professor Flitwick into playing a slow song, one that every couple had to join in on. And while that did sound good at eye view, you had to sign a paper at the begging saying if you coming as a couple or single. And the only people who had signed single to not face embarrassment were the staff—not counting Filch and Mrs. Norris.

Was this real, you being the living cliche of dancing with your enemy?

“If you step on my shoes one more time, I’ll leave you,” he growled into your, tightening his grip on your waist. Yeah, it was.

“What do you think I’ll do? Cry?” You asked in a mocking tone, sticking out your stuck your bottom lip out in a pout to taunt him even further.

Suddenly your front was pressed up against his back— your attention had been else where. Else where being reaching the goal of getting on his last nerve so when a husky voice whispered in your ear, you were shocked.

“Oh don’t act like I haven’t made you cry before.” He turned you back around swiftly, the only thing indicating what had just happened being the proud smirk on his face.

“Says you. Weren’t you the one who cried over a guy asking me out in fifth year?” You challenged, bringing up the incident that happened two years ago.

He hadn’t cried but he might as well have and you just needed something to tick him off for the moment. Whatever he had just did caused something to happened within you, and you weren’t sure if you liked it or not yet.

It was a situation that the blonde deeply wanted to regret—George Weasley asking you out. You and Draco had been finishing up on your work in the courtyard when he had invited himself to sit in between you and Draco and then proceeded to ask you out on a date.

Draco hadn't given you the chance to answer, a new found jealously fueling him to gather both of your things and drag you away from the scene.

He knew the chances were slim that you would reject the boy, and deep down tucked inside of him, Draco knew that the Weasleys were better than him— in some aspects.

Over the years Draco had found himself growing into a separate person from his parents, a person who had could think on their own and didn’t have to rely solely on his parents' truths.

And through that process, he realized that maybe his ideals were not the best out there. Including the way he treated many of his pears even if he was too proud to say it out loud.

That being said, he always stayed up wondering while you stayed. Why’d you even stick with him in the first place. And that’s what Brough him to find out his second greatest fear, loosing you.

Yes, you were insufferable at times, but you were still you. Someone that he liked having around and talking too. And someone that listened to him even if it was something as stupid as why gingers exist and why they shouldn't.

Yes that was an actual conversation that you had. In conclusion, you were a person he loved. But he never did think to tell you that because, why risk losing you over something that was most likely unrequited.

“I was protecting your future y/n. Would you like for your children to come out as gingers,” he spat as if what he had just made complete sense.

“Draco I was fifteen and he was sixteen at the time and we barely ever talked before that because you were always bad-mouthing his family.”

Now that you think of it, he had always been this way about you and boys. It was an ongoing thing where it didn't matter what blood type, what house, which people they associated themselves with, they were always ‘below you and you could find better’.

“Why do you always meddle in my relationships?” You were irritated. Maybe it was the close proximity of your bodies or maybe it was how oblivious he was.

“Meddle? You’ve never even been in a relationship,” he snorted making your point clearer than day.

“Exactly. Why are you so jealous of me wanting to break out of whatever shell we have enclosed over each other? What if I want to branch out and you know, talk to new people?”

Ouch.

It didn’t hurt that you considered him to be somewhat of an enemy, it was your thing—but you didn’t even consider him to be a friend?

“Alright then when about Pansy? I tried to break out of our ‘shell’ as you call it when I started talking to her.”

“Parkinson was not good for you then and now even more. We both know that.”

You weren’t a person who used the word hate. In most times it was used out of anger and would be regretted later on. But Pansy Parkinson? She was very deserving of the title of someone that you hated.

Commenting on someone else’s hair when she had been walking around with a bowl cut for the last last five years? It didn’t make sense to you how she always found a way to put her input in places where it truly wasn’t needed.

“Yeah alright. Then who is good enough for me y/n?”

“Oh I don’t know me,” you mumbled under your breath not expecting him to hear it— but he did.

That’s how you found yourself once again getting dragged away. But this time it was form the great hall to a more private place where none of the ears of Hogwarts could hear you both.

“What do you mean you’re good enough for me?” He asked with more disgust in his tone than wanted, and it crushed you.

You scoffed before going on, “Well I’ve known you since we were in diapers. Would it be so horrible to consider me good enough for you?” You asked watching as some emotion flickered past his eyes.

“I mean I know so many dumb things about you like how you hate the feeling of those sweaters that your mother always buys you and you turn them inside out. And then when she ask if you're wearing them you aren't lying to her face. Do you know how cute that is, that you don’t even harbor the ability to lie to your mum about something as small as that?”

Cute?

“And don’t get me started on how your favorite food is not that ridiculously priced stake that you try convincing people- even me. I know that it’s that tomato soup that your mum makes when you’re sick because it reminds you of being a kid. And guess what? I don’t even let the house elves make it for you when I say that they do—”

“Then who does y/n?” He asked softly while slowly bringing you to be trapped between his arms by one of the thick walls. He always had the suspicion be never thought you’d actually—

“Well I uh- I do it myself because I want it to have the same feeling of home as it always does and I sort of asked your mum the exact details on how to cook it like she does,” you explained peering up to look into his eyes.

“You hate the smell of tomatoes,” he said with a light laugh, it wasn’t out of amusement but pure adoration. Never did he think that you’d actually do that for him— of course, you were there when he was sick but it was more of making fun of his ‘weak immune system’ and throwing tissues at him.

“Well I love you more and don’t pretend like you don’t slip those house elves thank you letter—” You were once again cut off but instead it was by his hand reaching the side of your jaw to look up at him fully.

“Repeat that,” he whispered with a small smirk.

oh no

Tears started to cloud your vision, the realization hitting that you had may just ruin your relationship with your childhood- enemy- friend- frenemy?

“Don’t cry I’m not- I’m not mad at you. I’m happy, unbelievably so. I just need you to repeat exactly what you just said to me,” he said moving both hands to cup your face giving his thumbs access to wipe the liquid from under your eyes.

“I love you Draco and I’m sorry that I ruined this. We could honestly just forget it if you’d like.”

“I don’t want to forget anything. Would it be a surprise if I told you that I loved you back and that I have for a long time?”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. Was he serious, or was this some sort of sick joke?

Noticing the worries floating around in your head, he gave you a look, one that wordlessly asked that if the next move he was going to make was the right one and that you would both be fine after.

And it was

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henryobsessed · 4 years ago

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The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 1

Summary: Jessie has completed Veterinarian school, after the death of her aunt has moved back to her home town.

word Count: 2013

A/N hello How are you all doing? we are in lockdown again here in Victoria Australia, I hope that means more time to write :)

Prologue

Chapter 1

Jessie sank into her plush foe leather couch; it had been a month since she had returned to her hometown and surprisingly her business was thriving. Even though she had yet to treat any wildlife she had a steady stream of cats, dogs, birds, ferrets, and other assortments of domestic animals heading through her doors. A big surprise to her was the number of cattle ranchers who on her arrival had asked her to make house calls to assess their cattle. Normally they paid for someone to come out to their co-op from the neighbouring bigger city. Now she was here if she could gain their trust, she would be set.

She looked around at her aunt’s old house, so many beautiful memories, Bet had been her best friend apart from the animals and had encouraged her to follow her dreams, she had even pitched in to her college fund when her parents’ life insurances had not been quite enough. She pictured her aunt standing at the stove, cooking her pancakes, grey hair piled atop her head, apron wrapped around her tall slender body, excited to cook for “The Vet” as she had lovingly called her even before she started her degree.

The last time they had spent time together she had sat on the couch, pancakes in hand. Her honey brown eyes pinning Jessie to her seat as her age roughened voice pleaded, “You can’t keep shutting people out Jessie, you have to open yourself to the possibility that you might find love, or even a good friend. You’re an adult now, and I won’t be around forever.” Her eyes misting as she whispered, “I worry about you honey, I don’t want you living your life alone like I did.”

Jessie had hugged her aunt pulling her in tight as she felt her sweet Bet’s distress. She had never asked why she was on her own, caught up in her own dramas. She had loved that it was just the two of them. But now she wondered if she had been too selfish. Once she was at college, her aunt was alone again. As if validating her aunt’s concern’s, she had received a call, a week after returning back to her last month of college. Her Aunt had suffered a major heart attack at work. Even though she was in the hospital when it had occurred, they were unable to save her. It had been a hard few months no one had come by the house for the funeral, it had just been the two of them. The local lawyer had encouraged her to sell up and move to a more populated area saying they had no need for a vet, and she had considered it. But a part of her still felt connected to the land, connected to those buried deep within the woods around their house.

He phone buzzed bringing her out of her musings, shaking the tired fog from her head she peeked at the antique gold clock above the mantel 11pm, Picking up the phone she heard a timid voice answer “Is this the vet, the one that came to our ranch last week?” mind pulled into action she answered “ yes this is the Vet what can I do for you?” a shaky breath let out as the young man responded, “I’m sorry for calling so late, My name is Thomas, my dad owns Ride em ranch. I was out checking traps around the property line, I hate them so much but dad insists we have them, a wolf has been caught. If I don’t get him out of here soon my Dad or one of the hands will come and kill him. Please what do I do?” sitting up Jessie talked in a calm voice to the boy, “First thing how is the wolf behaving?” getting up Jessie pulled her coat on whilst heading for the car, “He’s growling and whimpering at the same time ma’am, I think he would bite me if I got to close, but I can see he is in a lot of pain.” Opening the door to her pickup she jumped in glad her veterinarian bag was already in the back. “Ok Thomas tell me where you are, I am on my way”

Jessie was focused looking for the a boy in a red checked shirt and dark blue jeans, a part of her was excited, she was finally able to help a wolf, but another part of her was worried she was too late. There waving his arms illuminated by the high beams of her truck she saw Thomas, he had blond hair, brown eyes, and stood around 6 ft 3 although he had not filled out yes so even with his height looked like a young man.

Pulling up she could see his obvious fretting as he didn’t stop to talk but rather, as soon as she had her bag, started moving back into the forest. The boy was so intent on getting her there he didn’t say a word, however the closer they got the more evident it was the animal was in great distress. Long lone howls could be heard along with whimpers, when Thomas broke into the area where the wolf was his whimpers changed to savage snapping of his teeth and loud growls interrupted by his whines. The was until Jessie stepped into the opening, She could have sworn the wolf looked right at her with shock before it laid its head down and quietened. Jessie was amazed, its behaviour was one of submission and in its current state was highly unusual. She walked closer, slowly talking to the animal, “Hey boy, your ok, I’m here to help ok. Will you let me help you?”

She knelt just outside of the range where the wolf could reach her and reached into the bag, the majestic creature watched her closely but gone was the snarls and defensive growling. All that was left was his pain filled whimper, quickly assessing his weight she pulled a small tranquilizer gun out along with some prefilled darts. On seeing the gun he let out a long mournful howl that tore at her heart, “I’m sorry, but this will make you feel better I promise.” Taking aim she shot into his flank. He let out a soft yelp, they kept eye contact as he slowly lowered his eye lids.

Ok Thomas we need to move fast, I had to guess his weight and even though I am sure I’ve have put him out for the night I can’t guarantee that.” Together they moved to the brown black creature, jessie made note as they together removed the trap from its leg that the creature had seen better days. His hair was matted in places and there were other areas where the fur was missing showing signs of fights that it had been in. Carefully after assessing the rest of its body, Thomas and Jessie lifted the creature which from tail to muzzle would have been 6 ft 5 however it showed malnutrition and was much lighter that she would have expected for a creature of its size and age. In fact had Thomas not been there to help she would have been able to lift the wolf herself which said a lot for its condition. Sadness filled her as they carefully placed it in the back of the truck. Once he was securely placed in the back she turned to the young man “Thank you Thomas, I appreciate your help and your kindness” Thomas looked down at his feet for a moment before signing, “Please don’t tell my pa, he would think I was a pansy for doing this. What he fails to understand is we need to work with the wolves without them….. well we need them. Thank you for coming, I hope he survives.”

Jessie watched the tall young man in her rear vision as she dove away, there was something special about him.

On reaching her clinic she bought out a trolley and carefully picked up the wolf playing him down and wheeled him into the treatment rooms. Her first priority was x-ray the leg and make sure it wasn’t broken, as she moved around the room her other patients called out to her. A small Tibetan spaniel who was in for cherry eye surgery whimpered at her before settling down in it’s cage, along with a tabby who was recovering from a broken leg, who at all the noise hissed at her. “ohh come now calm down, we have to help this poor creature ok. I expect you both to keep him company as he recovers.” She quickly took the x-rays dismayed to see that the trap had indeed crushed his ulna and radius on the right leg. The night was long as she reset the leg and applied a cast. The sun was coming up, and her young assistant joe was walking in the front door as she finished setting the wolf up in a special cage.

Joe taken aback walked around to peer into the cage, “OMG Jessie, where did you find this boy? He is gorgeous and yet has seen better days.” Exhausted she just stood wiping her hands on her apron and started cleaning, “you look like you need a break Jessie, why don’t you go home, I’ll reschedule your non important appointments and push the urgent ones back to this afternoon so you can get some sleep.” Grateful she nodded her thanks and left the Joe to care for the grumpy cat, and Tibbey.

Jessie’s dreams were plagued with images of the wolf, his eyes that held so much pain caused her heart to constrict. The resemblance to the those she had buried so many years ago could not have been a coincidence. As she tossed and turned the images grew bolder, the wolfs from long ago circled her, she felt no fear only curiousness as they sniffed at her before one by one they laid at her feet. She knelt and stroked each one, reassuring them that she would take care of him. A loud sound broke into the now peaceful dream, her mind now fussy she picked up the phone, “Jessie” the frantic voice of her assistant invaded her calm “Jessie you have to get down here, the wolf woke up and is tearing at the cage. I can’t even get close enough to change the fluid bag. I’m scared he is going to break out.” Jumping out of bed she ran to grab her bag, not even worried that she was still in her pajamas she ran to her truck. The clinic was only 5 mins by car, but she was the only one authorised to use the tranqu gun.

Running into the clinic she could hear the panicked snarls and snaps of the wolf, the sound of the metal clanging and it tried to escape. Gun in hand she ran into the room, as Joe opened the door and her eyes met that of the wolf the strangest thing happened. Just as it had in the forest, the wolf calmed, whined and laid its head down. “well I never!!” Joe breathed in exasperation, “Teach me Obi wan, Tell me your secrets” if she hadn’t been so socked herself she would have laughed at Joe’s comment. However this was not normal wolf behaviour. Taking a risk she moved forward and sat before the creature, an odd feeling settling in her stomach as joe handed her the new bag. Talking in a calm voice she addressed the canine, “This will help you feel better ok” his eyes locked with hers as he whimpered. Risking everything she hooked up the new bag then opened the cage, going against her training she reached in and caressed him. She felt his body relax the more she stroked his neck and flank until he was once again asleep. Replacing the latch on the door she looked back a Joe both confused and amazed.

Chapter 2

I have tagged people from my last story if you wish to be removed please let me know 😊

@legendarywizarddetective @blakerogue @ladamari68 @witcherfan @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya

@stephartrave @angelcavill66 @fatefuldestinies @bageracat

@fortheloveoftradition @kmuir1 @fanfictionaddiction99 @zealoushound @thenonrealloser @xobriellaxo24 @jessayw

@abschaffer2 @elena-myth @shy-violet-soul @hisnamewasmojito @tumblrninia @thereisa8ella@cavilladdict @its–fandom–darling @omgkatinka @leaena2go@littlefreya @elena-myth @bluedog63 @oh-for-fic-sake @legendarywizarddetective @foodieforthoughts @lady-love88 @ladamari68 @elena-myth @viking-raider @hisnamewasmojito @its–fandom–darling @fysaelys @zurcda @allthingsatlanta13 @bageracat @cecilegoestoparis

@meandmycherrytree

@f4iryerin @amberangel112 @silllyrabbit81 @crippledcatlady @multifandomlover1 @confusednerd09 @sycochick @littlefreya @absolutepie @jajphcfan @mandolover86 @ladamari68 @whereismymindlaura @antepatch @fanficforfun @thereisa8ella @davidbuddbg @ethandaddyramseyx@gayathriiii @nemessisvoninpirian@kath94210 @ladamari68@fancysthings @awallflowerstream @oddduckthatgirl@mcz02057 @gmfbaby @meanerface@adorable-hen @hrrypinks @melaniqueen2 @f4iryerin @biancawlf@tayxbri @whip111stuff@kellynkeskoski @mzchievous-blog @pixie88 @marytudorbrandon @wolfsmom1 @amberangel112 @marantha

#werewolf #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #theveterinarianandthewerewolf

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delirioushrimp · 3 years ago

Text

Frozen Fairytale (DemonYB AU)

This is like the most self-indulgent thing I’ve ever done hhhhh-

Once more, this story is here because I am a huge simp for @harbingers-appointed ‘s amazing AU !

Vee I hope you know I would die for you !

Plot changed three times during the writing process, help-

He senses their pain before he hears their scream. It’s a cry of agony, distress, begging for help and he feels it in his bones as though it was his own suffering. It travels through his being like a shot of electricity; fast, violent, and dizzying. It takes him a few seconds to recover from the pain and as soon as he does, a feeling of dread unlike anything he had experienced before fills his soul until it’s the only thing he can think about.

He rises abruptly from his desk, causing TK to flinch and look at him with a confused and fearful look. But he can’t see his tactician, can’t hear them ask if something is wrong, can’t feel the pieces of wood piercing his skin. His soul, his heart is burning a fire of horror and rage.

He almost knocks the door of its hinges as he desperately tries to reach them through the pain.

“Darling ! Darling where are you ?!”

Long agonizing seconds pass -where he imagines the worst has already happened-

pleasepleasepleaseplease-

“Sa…mael…”

Their voice is too weak, too frail and distressed for him to relax. And they only used his real name when…

“Tell me where you are !”

He doesn’t mean the harshness, the sternness in his tone, centuries of cold authority coursing through his veins and the panic rending him unable to control it. He hears a gasp before they answer once more.

“…Water…lake…blue…”

“What-“

“So…cold…”

His eyes widen furthermore at their words, his feet carrying him to the only place they could be as terror -the kind he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years- takes hold of him. He doesn’t notice the looks of bewilderments of his kind as he runs past them, quickly turning into pure fear when they feel the murderous aura of their King. Most of them have never witnessed it and to endure its overwhelming presence like this, even for a second bring them to their knees. He doesn’t notice any of them as he runs like he never has, ignoring the tremendous pain his heels bring him.

“Darling-“

“It hurts…it hurts so much. I-don’t think I can hold for much longer…”

They sound on the verge of fainting, and it feels as though he might be dying.

“Don’t ! Don’t let go ! Please ! I’m on my way !”

“…Samael…I’m so tired…”

“Please ! Please just a little longer !”

He never begged, the King of Hell doesn’t beg for anything or to anyone. He didn’t beg when God casted him aside, didn’t beg when he was stripped of his title, of his wings, or when he felt their ghostly presence for a hundred years to come. He never begged in his life, when he wants something, he simply takes it without asking, because he doesn’t need anyone’s permission. He doesn’t need the princes’ or TK, and he especially doesn’t need permission from that pathetic God.

And yet in that moment, running in the frozen parts of his kingdom, he is willing to. He’s willing to beg anyone he crosses to save his beloved; he’s willing to kneel in front of God if it means he can get back the wings which were so painfully teared apart from him, even for just a minute, anything so he can reach them sooner, faster even by a few seconds. Anything for the pain to stop. He briefly looks up at the sky.

You knew this would happen, didn’t you ?!

He doesn’t expect an answer, and he doesn’t get one but doesn’t miss how the harsh winds seem to be whispering words of mockery to his ears. But the sound of their voice brings him back to the moment.

“My King…”

He feels their mind sleeping farther away, to a place he can’t reach. The words are spoken softly and lovingly but with a hint of regret.

“I’m sorry…”

“DON’T !”

But the connection is lost, quickly followed by a loud splashing sound and his soul shatters into pieces. A scream of agony echo through the frozen lands, the wild and agonizing cry of a frenzied beast, chilling anyone who hears it to the bone.

He starts running again, this time, pleading, again and again to find them. The smell of iron hits him, and he feels madness takes over his mind.

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

As soon as your bruised and frozen fingers let go of the small rock, you feel it. The long, tortuous howl of his voice ringing in your soul reminding you of his hellish nature. It tears you apart and for the briefest moment, you wish you could have said something more. Then the water takes you.

It doesn’t hurt as much as you expected it, the pain only lasts a minute. A minute where your lungs desperately try to breath into the frigid ocean that surrounds you, burning every cell of your being. But then nothing. Only silence and the slow descent of your body towards the unknown, and you briefly wonder if there is an end to this endless ocean. It’s peaceful, quiet, and painless. A calm, soft blue surrounds you, reminding you of his eyes. It lulls and soothes you.

So beautiful…

Everything is numb and you feel your eyes growing heavy but you’re not scared. You’re not scared because you remember his words upon your arrival.

Death is something you will never have to fear my dear, for I am the only one who controls it here.

A small smile draws on your lips despite the cold.

Then it’s alright, I’ll suffer a thousand pains if it means staying with you.

He will find you; you know he will, he always does. You just have to wait a bit. You close your eyes and fall asleep into the icy blankets of water. Death will not find you, the Light Bringer will.

-------‐----------------------------------------------‐-------------

The first time you wake up, it’s to the sound of crying and pleading. Someone is begging for you to open your eyes, but the task proves to be impossible. The sorrow and the lament in their voice break your heart, despite not being able to recognize who it is. You vaguely hear the person call for your name, again and again between their sobs. You wish you could comfort whoever is uttering your name with such anguish and desperation. But instead, you fall back into the arms of Morpheus.

Who are you ?

The second time you wake up, it’s to the smell of blood. The stench invades your mind, overwhelming all your senses until it’s the only thing you can perceive. You want to gag, yet your body seems unresponsive to even your most basic instincts, as if frozen in ice. But behind that heavy and violent scent, you catch a hint of something familiar. Something ancient, powerful, and pleasant, it comforts you. Instinctively, you cling to that aroma acting as a lifesaver and slumber takes over you once more.

I know you.

The third time you wake up, it’s to the taste of something bitter running down your throat. It tastes like one of those herbal teas from back home, but far worse. It burns and stings your tongue; makes you sick to your stomach, and you panic. You trash around, try to scream but no sound leaves you. Your crisis is interrupted when you feel something soft brush against your lips, something sweet and gentle, like a candy melting in your mouth. It’s enough for you to fall back asleep.

Who am I to you ?

The fourth time you wake up, it’s to a warm touch. Something -or rather someone- is holding your arm tightly, though not enough to hurt. You still struggle to open your eyes, but you can feel the way their much bigger hand delicately holds yours, running soothing circles on your palm. Then you feel a warm breath on your fingers and a pair of lips brushing against them in such a tender and caring way it brings tears to your eyes. You doze off, feeling loved and protected.

I’ve never felt so cherished before.

The fifth time you wake up, it’s to a sight you never believed to witness. A large figure kneeling on their knees by your side, head resting on your chest, through some miracle, the long horns barely scrap your skin. Pale moonlight rays shine on them- no him, allowing you to see a pained expression and the bags under his eyes, a sight which immediately strikes you with grief. He looks absolutely miserable. And yet, you find a certain beauty to it. Is it because you know he would only kneel for you ?

My King…

As if on cue, a gasp reaches your ears before the head lying on your chest shots up, so fast it almost knocks you out. You curse out loud in fear, but the sound quickly dies in your throat the moment you notice the look in his eyes.

First you see shock, confusion, and disbelief following one another in rapid motion before relief takes over. His eyes, his smile, it’s like he just found the greatest treasure in all three worlds. It reminds you of the first time you met, except he doesn’t hold it back. The raw devotion and adoration in his gaze, it’s almost too much for your heart to handle.

You try to reach for him with your hand but a sharp pain in your shoulder forces you to withdraw your arm, you hiss at the sensation and he notices it. His expression immediately falls and is replaced by sorrow and guilt. You can see it in those endless pools of blue, you can see how he’s blaming himself for something he isn’t responsible for, you can see how terrified he is of you hating and discarding him, and most of all, you can see the suffering he endured during your short absence. You’ve never witnessed something like this before. You’d seen him irritated, disappointed, tired, or dejected even.

But this, this was something you hated seeing on him. This expression of utter defeat and grief does not suit him at all.

Carefully, you lift your other -and fortunately non-injured- arm and with as much softness as you can muster, brush your hand against his cheek. He jolts from the touch as if he expected a much harsher reaction but just as quickly, leans into your touch and closes his eyes. He’s trembling, still afraid you’re only indulging him one last time before rejecting him completely. It surprises you, how easily you can read him when you could barely decipher his true intentions not so long ago.

You push back the blankets and slowly shifts your body until your feet dangle from the bed, caging him between your legs, but his eyes are still shut.

“My King…” you whisper in a raspy voice, “open your eyes please.” The shaking grows in intensity. “For me…”

Your last words act as spell pulling him out of his misery. His gaze is solely focused on you, and even after all this time, it still takes your breath away. How could such a powerful, beautiful and infinite being look at you -a mere mortal soul- with such intensity you feel like the only person existing in all three realms ? You still don’t understand, and you don’t know if you ever will.

Does it even matter ?

He who has everything, looks like he might crumble at any moment. The embodiment of pride, crawling at your feet, begging for your love. Has he ever shown such vulnerability to anyone else before ? The selfish part of you wishes he hasn’t, the greedy and possessive part that wants all of him for you and only you. His mind, his body, his heart, and his soul, all for you, just like you belong to him.

Comfort him, cherish him, accept him, love him

“My love,” you call for him, and the distance between the two of you shortens, you feel his hands roam your body, desperately clinging to you. “My star, my light, my savior, my fated one…”

Each appellation has him growing closer and closer until his forehead touches yours, his breathing is erratic, his eyes search for any trace of resentment on your face, hands encircling your waist is a tight -but non-painful- grip.

“None of this was your fault-“

“Don’t go to them !”

You speak at the same time, but you stop at the frantic tone of his voice. You frown, confused, waiting for further explanations.

“I know I- failed to protect you !” he admits in the most pathetic tone you’ve ever heard. “But please, don’t leave me !” he begs, and your mind is sent into a spiral of worry as you try to come up with a way to calm him down. “Don’t- don’t choose them !”

Who are you even talking about ?!

“They- he will only hurt and use you !”

His words hit you like a bucket of ice- no it’s worse than that, colder than the waters you drowned in, colder than the harsh winds digging into your skin when you were clinging to that rock for dear life. You feel your blood boil and freeze at the same time, because you understand who he is talking about.

The genuine deep-rooted fear in his tone fills you with both dread and fury. It terrifies you because it means this demon, no-this entity is far worse and far more powerful than you thought, enough for the King of Hell to be afraid of it. It enrages you because it means they hurt him before, most likely tortured and let him bleed out like the sadistic creature they are. Your interactions with them had given you a hunch about their true nature but this is so much worse, much more horrible than you’d anticipated.

Theyhurtyoutheyhurtyoutheyhurtyou-

You want to scream, you want to get up from this bed, you want to find this smug bastard -it wouldn’t take long, they’re always around the corner- and strangle them. You don’t remember the last time you felt such wrath against someone. But you can’t. You can’t because you can barely move without your body hurting but most of all, because you just know they would relish in your anger and you wouldn’t be able to bear that infuriating self-satisfied and arrogant smile.

The grip around your waist suddenly tightens and when your eyes focus on him again, you realize your mistake. He noticed your anger, and thought it was directed at him. His pupils are blown wide, and he starts shaking again, mumbling the same sentence over and over again like a broken record.

“don’tleavemedon’tleavemedon’tleaveme-“

“Sweetheart-“

“This will never happen again, I promise !” he interrupts you.

“Dear-“ you try again, but to no avail.

“I’ll never leave you, never again ! “ His voice turns dark, with a hint of madness to it. “Will always stay with you, always by your side. Always, always, always, always…”

“Love please-“

“You know I would do anything for you, right ?” His eyes are blown so wide you can barely see his pupils, smile stretched to the point it might tear his face apart. The raw possessiveness and despair, they make him look completely mad. “Tell me, tell me what should I do to earn back your love. Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Just tell me.”

You stare at him in stunned silence and in that moment, you know if you asked for him to set his kingdom ablaze, he’d only ask you in how many days. He had told you so in the past, but you’d only taken it as another dramatic display to entertain you. Now you realize how serious he was and to your shock, you’re not as frightened as you should be. In fact…

His eyes twitches and a trail of cobalt blood starts to run down his chin from how hard he’s biting his lips. His voice turns to hysterics and you think you see something running down his cheeks.

“Just tell me ! There must be something ! Tell me please, tellmetellmetellmetellme-“

“Samael, enough !” you end up shouting at him.

He immediately stills, from the tone of your voice or the use of his name, you can’t tell. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, not when he was breaking down in front of you, but he wouldn’t have stopped otherwise. And hearing him so hopeless and frantic was too much for you to handle.

Ignoring the pain in your left shoulder, you reach for him again, this time with both hands and he watches you lovingly cup his face in your hands with awe. His gaze darts back and forth between your face and your hands in utter bewilderment, like a child trying to solve a puzzle. You almost laugh at the thought. Instead, you lock eyes with him and speak firmly.

“I’ll tell you what I want.” He perks up, eagerly waiting for your wish. “I want you to stop blaming yourself for something that’s not your fault.” You see him open his mouth, most likely to protest but you don’t give him the chance to. “I want you to remember I don’t hate you; I’ve never hated you and never will. “ You sense him slightly relaxes. “I want you to understand I will never leave you, not for them, and not for anyone else, never. “ You pause, watching the blue returning to his eyes.

His expression holds trust, hope and an innocence you didn’t believe possible for him to have, he looks so much younger. For a moment, you think you’re gazing at the benevolent, bright, and loyal angel he once was, the devoted hand of God. You remember the feather he gifted you on the first night you kissed his scars, a pure and immaculate white, softer than the most delicate silk existing on earth and more valuable than any jewel in the world. He had looked so happy, so earnest, when he gave it to you. And now, you can so easily picture thousands of those same feathers linked together to form majestic wings. The vision has you smiling softly. But a question, one you had avoided asking him ever since you realized his feelings for you were genuine burns at the corners of your mind once more. Laced with such pride, envy, and selfishness you never felt brave enough to ask.

Do you love me more than you used to love God ?

Two warm, large hands covering yours bring you back to reality and the innocence vanishes, allowing for the madness to reappear once more. But his voice is steady, confident and lacks the fragility it held mere moments ago.

“God took everything from me, from the very beginning, only took and took.” You are not shocked to hear the way he spat those words, but from the fact he seems to have read your mind. “But you…” he draws out, bringing your left hand to his lips and giving a chaste kiss where your pulse lies, teeth grazing at the flesh. You feel him slowly exhale against your skin. “You keep on giving and giving. Your presence, you smile, your touch, your voice…” You feel his tail slowly making its way around your left leg as he speaks. “But I still keep wanting more of you each passing day…” His voice becomes strained with yearning and desire. “I can’t get enough; I’ll never get enough of you.”

He closes his eyes, inhales and exhales slowly, as if trying to contain his hunger and fervor for you. His breaths are the only sounds in the large room and you find some sort of peace to it. It eases your nerves, reminds that this moment is not a dreamy hallucination from your comatose state, this is real. You don’t know how long it lasts -a few seconds, a minute or an hour- until he opens his eyes again and your heartbeat becomes uncontrollable.

His pupils have turned into hearts, and although it’s not the first time, you still find yourself mesmerized by the sight. Who knew the Devil could be capable of such thing ? The vibrancy, the intensity, and the sincerity his gaze holds have you melt into him and you instinctively close your thighs tighter around him. He relishes in your actions if the soft purring you hear is anything to go by.

“My Dear…” he fondly says before calling for your name, and you smile, loving the way it rolls on his tongue. “The dull candlelight of devotion I once felt for the one who cast me aside cannot possibly compare to the eternal flame of adoration I hold for you.”

You feel every fiber of your body burns at his confession, pure delight taking over your mind and utter bliss over your heart. How are you supposed to respond to that ? Nothing you could say would be enough to match this. So you decide to answer in the only way you can think of. You lean in and finally close whatever distance was left between the two of you.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou

You hope he can hear it, how much you love him, you hope he feels how your soul calls for his in desperate craving. You hope he realizes you will never stop loving him as you taste the blood and the tears on his lips. You hope he understands you would do anything for him as you feel his hands shift to grip your thighs. How could such a corrupted being taste so divine ?

You want him, you want him to touch and hold you, because you feel the most alive when he does. Hastily, you blindly reach for his long horns and smirk into the kiss when you finally grab them and without a warning, pulls him towards you. And oh, the way he moans into your mouth, it sounds heavenly. It makes you lose your mind.

Moremoremoremoremore-

You do it a second time, which causes him to growl and you revel at the feeling of his nails digging into your tender skin. It feels so good, so good to have him touch you like this. But then he breaks the kiss and you whine when he removes his hands from your legs, instead placing them on each side of your body to steady himself.

His eyes are hooded with raw desire and lust, causing a shot of electricity to travel to your core. Knowing that you’re the only one who’ll get to see him like this, the only one able to create such reactions from him fills you with unwavering pride and satisfaction.

“Darling…” he whispers in a husky, barely controlled voice. “I can’t- you’re still hurt, I-“ He hisses when you tenderly rub the base of his horns. “Ah…don’t- torture me like this.” His labored breath and the pleading in his tone only urge you to do it again. “You need to rest more before-“ You shush him with a finger against his lips.

“You’re the only one who can make the pain go away…” you trail off, noticing how close he is to give in from how tightly he’s holding the bedsheets. “My King…” you beg, fingers brushing against his cheek. “Please, I need you” you admit.

You can almost see the resolution shatters in his eyes and it’s beautiful. You feel absolutely drunk on triumph, love and euphoria, a deadly combination that drives you to feel much bolder, impudent, and confident than you should be in your condition.

He lifts you up in one, swift -although careful- movement before settling himself on the bed with you straddling his lap and hmmm you can feel how much he wants you now. In a moment of reckless bravery, you grind against him and smile smugly at the chocking sound coming from his throat. But your victory is short-lived when you feel a hot breath at the junction of your neck and your shoulder, inhaling your scent. You inhale sharply and a whimper leaves your lips when you feel his teeth -his very sharp teeth- nibble at your skin. A dark, guttural chuckle echo in the room, one filled with sinful promises of pleasure, making your body growing hotter by the second.

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it you, Darling,” he purrs in your ear, sounding very much like the embodiment of temptation and immorality most sacred texts describe him as. It drives you insane.

He never did this before, it was -almost- always him that would come to you with need and want, and of course, you never refused him. But now…

“I need-“ now look who’s struggling to form coherent sentences. You can feel him smile against your flesh like the devil he is. “I need you to touch me,” you shudder when his hands grip your thighs once more, except his hold is much more possessive than the previous one. “Hold me, fill me, mark me…” your voice becoming more strained and tense as one of his hands starts to make its way to your heated core. “I want you to fuck me until I forget the pain, and my own name…” The animalistic sound that leaves him sends goosebumps along your skin. You sigh deliriously. “I want you to worship me.”

He leaves your neck to look at you one more time before he completely loses it. You know he wants to check if you’re really sure about this, he’s done it before, and although you’ve never told him to, you know if you asked him to stop now, he would. As much as it would pain him, you know he’d never betray you like this, not only because he loves and respects you too much, but also because your Devil has standards.

When he notices no hesitation or refusal from you, a ravenous and demented smile draws on his lips as he tilts your chin with his free hand to look at you directly in the eyes. You see excitement, lust, and exhilaration in his frenzied gaze and behind it, his undying adoration.

“As you wish, dearest.”

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You see them not too long after, when you’ve recovered enough to walk on your own, although you sustained no injury on your legs. Though you’re sure some people can tell why you couldn’t use them. The wound on your shoulder is bigger than you thought, starting from your shoulder blade, and almost reaching your hips but the pain is already manageable and you’ve been told no major organ was harmed, so there’s that. You can’t do much about the red angry scar expect apply some ointment every now and then but it’s fine, to demons, scars are not seen as ugly but rather a source of pride and a sign of survival. Not surprising, considering their King was the first to deal with the most painful ones imaginable. Very little got to see them but everyone knew the Fall had taken a lot from him.

Just like he promised, he keeps you near him at all times to the point you quickly forget the notion of personal space but you don’t complain much, considering what happened. Besides, listening to the meetings with the princes and other important figures -on his lap of course- gives you a better insight on how things operate in hell and who you need to be careful of, TK could only spend so much time explaining the basics to you with how busy they were.

All thanks to a certain “housekeeper”…

Ah, thinking about them always lead to a terrible headache, which for some reason you believe them to be aware of. Your last interaction with them goes back to a day or two before the “incident”, they’d been cordial and enthusiastic as usual but something about that smile always kept you on edge. Now you know your cautiousness was not uncalled for. You still want to strangle them but you’d rather drown into that lake again than admit it to their face. You can’t forget the genuine fear in Samael’s voice or the way he trembled against you when he asked you to not go to them.

What exactly did they do to you ?

“Darling ?” A deep voice brings you back to reality and you realize everyone in the room is staring at you -some with more annoyance and hostility than others- and you turn to see the concerned azure gaze of your lover. “Are you alright ?”

You don’ want to lie to him but now is really not the time to mention your doubts and questions. Instead, you smile softly and speak as casually as you can despite the headache growing in intensity.

“I just need some fresh air, don’t worry.”

You can tell he is not fully convinced with how deep his frown is and it gets worse when you try to leave your “seat”. He tenses up and to avoid making a scene you take one of his hands into your own and try to appease his paranoia.

“The balcony is not far, I’ll come back in a few minutes.” You lick your lips. “I promise. Nothing’s gonna happen,” you raise your voice to make sure everyone hears you, “nobody would be stupid enough to try something when you’re here, right ?”

You think you hear a few people chuckle and you don’t need to turn around to guess their derisive smiles. A few moments of silence pass where you stare at the King of Hell with the best puppy eyes you can muster. You know you’ve won when you hear him sigh and nod reluctantly. Slowly, you slip from his lap but before you can make a step, a hand grabs you by the arm causing you to turn around in confusion.

“Five minutes,” is all he says to you, irritation and stress already slipping into his voice. You mentally send an apology to everyone else in the room, knowing what they’ll have to deal with for this short amount of time.

“Of course, I understand.”

You beam at him but right as you’re about to leave, find yourself hit with a very bold and striking idea. You smile deviously under the eyes of a confused King. Dramatically, you kneel before him much like a knight in a fairytale would and take the hand which was holding your arm a few seconds ago into your own and bring it to your lips, not once breaking eye contact with him. He looks at you in stunned silence and wide eyes, his face covered in a delicious shade of blue. As a final move, you drop a chaste kiss on his hand and smile when you hear him inhale sharply.

“I’ll be back soon,” you beath the words fervently against his skin, “My King.”

You stroll out of the room without looking back once and head to the balcony, feeling quite proud -and maybe a bit embarrassed- of your little display despite the dull pain in your skull. You’re fortunate enough to not cross anyone on your way, and exhale slowly once you feel the cold air against your face.

You attempt to distract yourself from your gloomy thoughts with the view and feels the wind to caress your skin in a gentle breeze, it’s calm and peaceful. Until a voice you’re all too familiar with jumps in from behind, and it takes everything in you to refrain yourself from jumping in fright.

“I’m glad you’ve recovered well enough to put little stunts like this !”

You cringe at the friendly, upbeat tone they use and refuse to turn around to gaze at that pretentious smile. Of course, he knows what you did, he always seemed to know where you went and what you did.

“And I’m glad you have enough time on your hands to come and see me,” you retort as casually as possible.

Don’t show your anger, even if he knows, don’t show it.

“Of course, I’ll always free myself for you sweetheart,” he says, voice slightly huskier. “You know I’ll always be there whenever you feel bored.”

There it is, that same charming and bewitching tone he used the first time you met, the one that almost convinced you to follow him to the storage room. And his hair looked so soft, though you’d never touch it, mostly out of fear of what would happen to your fingers if you did. His eyes -well the one visible at least- were so pretty. He was attractive and persuasive for sure, but you always thought he was more than that, and you were right. What would have happened, if you’d followed them that day ?

Ah, I’d rather not think about it…

“Are you giving me the cold shoulder ?” he asks with hurt in his voice, you’re almost convinced it’s genuine. This time, you can’t help but flinch from his wording, and he notices it. “Oops, I shouldn’t have worded it like that, my bad.”

You only sigh at his “apology” and do your best to ignore the footsteps, coming closer and closer to you, slowly, like a snake chasing its unaware prey.

“Come on now, you weren’t so stiff last time we talked.”

You still don’t answer and hear them hum in amusement at your silence. It’s not very hard to imagine the expression he’s wearing right now, narrowed eyes and a knowing smile. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them truly irritated or angry, and while his smile always unnerved you, you’d rather not discover what he looked like when he got mad.

“You’re acting like I’m the one who stabbed you in the back.”

He’s so close, too close to you for comfort, you feel your body tense as soon as the edge of his tail brushes your leg. Oh, he must be relishing in your agitation.

Fucking bastard…

“It must have been so painful, “ he whispers as one of his nails starts to move along your back. “The feeling of a sharp blade piercing your soft skin, “ he says while his finger starts to trail down the exact line of your scar through your clothes. “and the freezing winds nabbing at the wound while you desperately tried to stay afloat.” His voice drips with sadistic glee, you’re almost sure he’s getting turned on. “And then helplessly drowning with none coming to get you, oh you must have felt truly hopeless, didn’t you, sweetheart ?”

The urge to just throw him over the edge eats you away as a warm breath tickles your neck. But you do your best to sound and act as unbothered by the situation, instead opting for a white lie.

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t remember most of it.”

Bad move, you sense him chuckles against your ear at your admission, as if you’d just confided the most important secret in the world. What kind of sick power did you just allow him to have over you now ?

“Really ?” he muses. “That’s too bad…” he snickers. “Maybe I could help you regain some memories ?”

Fuck, I walked right into that one.

“You know I could make it feel good, don’t you ?”

You wonder if this is how Eve felt when she was tricked by the snake, in fact you wouldn’t be surprised to learn Flauros turned out to be the one who tempted her at this point. It’s like he was made for the sole purpose of spreading chaos whenever he went.

“I’ll have to decline the offer,” you answer firmly and to your surprise, notice him take a step back. You feel like you can breathe again.

“You’re so boring,” he exclaims, sounding very much like a spoiled kid. “But I knew it’d be like that, this story isn’t centered around me after all.”

You open your mouth to ask for more explanations when a deep, concerned voice reverberates in your head.

“Darling ? Are you on your way back ?”

You answer quickly, knowing very well what will happen if you don’t.

“Sorry, kinda lost track of time, I’m coming !”

“Hurry…please.”

“Give me a minute, I’ll be there soon.”

You’re glad he doesn’t ask more questions; else you’d have had to tell him about the spider standing right behind you and he’s already stressed enough as it is.

“I’m guessing his Highness is calling for you ?” he asks in an ever-knowing voice, still filled with that same fucking arrogance. “Better not make him wait !” he shouts in a disgustingly sweet sing-song voice.

Gross, this really didn’t suit him at all, being a coy little bastard really fits him better. As much as it bothers you, he’s playing the part of the bad guy pretty well, too well you think. As if he’d done this a hundred times over already.

You want to tell him to leave, to take care of all the tasks poor TK is forced to manage on their own, you want to yell at him, bleed him dry, snap his neck. Anything so you don’t have to walk past him and get a glimpse of that cheeky smile, anything for you to forget the image of a dying Samael from your mind. But then it would mean surrendering, admit that you’re terrified of whatever entity they’re supposed to be.

So, with all the strength and courage you still have left, you turn around and sure enough, he’s looking at you the exact way you predicted it. You walk past him, not too fast -less you betray your fear- but not too slow either -less you have to gaze for too long at that sharp, hypnotizing purple eye- . But the words he utters as you stand a few inches from him, cause you to stop dead in your tracks.

“You shouldn’t worry too much about me cutie, I’m only here to act as a small distraction to your little fairytale.” He chuckles. “You should be more concerned about the God who created this world in the first place and the minion who wishes to gain their attention through this story.”

You start to walk again, not fulling grasping his words but still finding some sort of unknown understanding through them. But you still hear him talk, speaking of beings beyond your reality. His voice becoming darker and louder as you get farther away.

“The King may be the current favorite, but who knows when I’ll steal his crown?”

Walk away, don’t turn back

“Up until you grow bored of your prince charming, I’ll be there.”

………….

“Maybe next time, I’ll get to be your Antagonist (: “

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#Flauros stop fucking with brain challenge

Sorry for any world builing inaccuracies, I did give myself some liberties concerning a few details, feel free to correct me about it Vee.

#your boyfriend #demon au #your boyfriend au #Flauros is so difficult to write- help #your boyfriend x reader #angst/comfort #because I am weak #plot kept changing each day #PAIN #shouldn't have too many typos #i hope *cries*

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ialwaysgobacktoit · 4 years ago

Text

THIS IS PART 8 NOW :)

Of "Time to rest your weary head" (or 'Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday'!!!!)

Check out the whole story here

Since last chapter was so short, I made this one bigger - and I absolutely love writing through Gwyn's perspective. I always try to be as mindful and careful as I can when I write her POV and address her trauma, but if there's anything you feel could be done differently, please let me know! :) and thank you so much for reading. Your support means everything to me <3

HEY GIRLS @katiebellf @starbornsinger @madie2200 check out my new chapter!!! and if you wanted to be tagged on this too, feel free to comment ;)

A few days passed by, and Gwyn could say she was already feeling at home in the House of Wind. She continued attending the services at dawn, pushing herself at training, then having lunch with Nesta, Cassian and sometimes Azriel, and at last spending her habitual hours in the library doing research work for Merrill before returning to the House. It was a routine she was kind of used to by now, and it made her happy.

She hadn’t been to Velaris after dinner with the Inner Circle and was secretly growing impatient to visit it again. She was planning to go shopping with Nesta and Emerie, but didn’t summon courage enough to invite them. Something about strolling around the city streets at dusk made her a bit nervous. Although she didn’t feel like admitting it out loud.

She was proud of herself, because she truly felt she was overcoming her fears. These last months were ones of a slow, but effective healing journey. She felt herself being less intimidated around others, mostly males like Cassian and Azriel. Rhysand was more distant, but even the worry she felt at dinner that night had faded. She saw Azriel almost every day and nothing seemed to have changed between them; so she believed in Rhys’s word when he promised her not to tell him.

Something caught her eye and interrupted her line of thought. She was sitting in a comfortable armchair by the fireplace at the House’s private library after a particularly exhausting afternoon, trying to read a not-too-smutty book Emerie had lent her, and immediately raised her head from the shadow near her feet to the door, where Azriel stood by.

“How long have you been there?” She asked and quietly hoped her blushed cheeks went unnoticed by him.

Surprisingly enough, sharing a hallway with Azriel didn’t mean they saw more of each other. He was so quiet she couldn’t detect his presence in his room, and usually she woke up before sunrise, so they didn’t meet each other until breakfast. A part of Gwyn couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated by that.

“Not much.” He said, stepping into the library. She motioned him to seat on the armchair across from hers, and so he did. “Actually, I just came here to ask you something.”

Oh.

She felt something flunk in her chest; it’s been a while since they last met at the training ring late at night, and that was because lately her nightmares were keeping themselves at bay. She remembered their last encounter, his hazel eyes shining under the moonlight as he stared at her from across the room, and they sparred in silence almost until the time of her service.

He didn’t seem different around her, although she could notice him staring at her sometimes with a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. And she felt she was becoming better at hiding her feelings when near him; oddly, something had calmed inside her. That urge and nervousness weren’t the first things to come to mind anymore, and she was content to enjoy their friendship. At least that’s what she kept telling to herself. There were some nights in which her dreams were filled with cedar scent, a pair of hazel eyes looking at her intensely, his beautiful hands on her hair…

She shook her head slightly and forced herself to meet his stare, the firelight making his face look golden; an elegant, handsome angel staring straight at her.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to know if…” His throat bobbed once, and she couldn’t help noticing he seemed nervous. Him, the Shadowsinger, nervous. He rephrased it, staring intently at the fire.

“The Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra will be performing tomorrow. They were in a long undetermined hiatus during the last fifty years, and now they’re back.” His brows furrowed, eyes filled with anger at what had caused it. “I used to go there every other night. And I was wondering… Since you said you’re meaning to leave the House more often, if we, well…”

She tried to suppress her chuckle at the way he fought to find the words. Instead, there was a timid smile on her face when she hesitantly interrupted him:

“Are you asking me… To come with you?”

He finally tore his stare away from the fire to meet her; those hazel eyes filled with something resembling hope.

“Would you like to?”

And damn her if his smile didn’t make her heart and her chest heat up when she responded:

“I would. Very much.”

Suddenly the room felt smaller. She swore the lights dimmed a bit, and all she could think and see was the silhouette of his face and his eyes. Those eyes that’d seen so much, endured so much, and now looked at her, as if trying to vocalize something without saying anything at all. They stayed like that, lost in each other for what seemed like eons, before he cleared his throat.

“So… I’ll let you to your book, then.”

Those words sounded forced, as if he didn’t in fact want to leave. She gave him a smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Stay.

His shadows were all around her now, gently circling her shoulders.

Just as he meant to leave the room, she found herself stating:

“I’m glad you listened to it. What I said about restraining them.” She gestured with her head towards the shadows, and reached for one with her finger. The tendril seemed happy to be touched and wrapped itself in her hand, to what she giggled. “I really like them, you know.”

When she looked up to Azriel, he had a cryptic look on his face, watching in wonder the interaction in front of him.

“They like you too.” His voice was filled with a hidden emotion, and his eyes twinkled.

She smiled at him. “You can stay here for a little while, if you want. I’m not going to bed for a couple hours yet, and I must admit I’m not completely captivated by this novel.”

Even though he had that cool, unreadable mask on almost all the time, she could still see him restraining his surprise. And the way his lips tugged upward told her she was right to assume he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“What’s it about?” He asked while sitting again.

“Well” She skimmed distractedly through the pages, calming her racing heart. “She is a healer from a land up in the North, and he is a tradesman from the South. There’s a curse that connected them since birth, but they don’t know it yet. And that’s what leads them towards one another, the urge to break this curse.” She traced the title, reading the name of the author. “It’s good, just not as good as Diane.”

She casted him an amused look as he laughed quietly at her criticism, shaking his head:

“Because no one will ever compare to her.”

“Never.” She agreed dramatically, and his laugh turned into a grin. “Emerie and Nesta think I’m exaggerating, but I mean it. I must have read her books like ten times by now.”

His eyebrows shot up, clearly interested. “She must be great then.”

“Wait a second. Five hundred years and you’ve never read her?” Gwyn couldn’t hide her astonishment as she gasped.

“Why is that such a surprise?” He leaned back in his chair, that small smile never fading from his face.

“Well, is just… You had plenty of time.” She teased.

“My life is busier than you might think, Berdara.”

“Well, be that as it may, this can no longer go on. You must read it.”

Before he could answer, she called the House to deliver her the stack of Gadot’s novels that were in her bedroom. Her private collection.

“Start by this one” She handed him a copy of And So the Story Goes, that had magically appeared in the table between them “This is my favorite.”

He reached for the book, and she watched as he flipped through the pages. She would admit that sight made her heart flutter once again. The book she had ever since she was little, that she read alongside Catrin, one of the only things she asked Mor to grab her after everything. Its edges were worn, some pages marked and underlined. To have Azriel hold it in his hands…

“You can read it at your own pace. And don’t worry, I have a spare” She showed him the copy Diane had signed her, a newer edition, that beautiful inscription that she knew it by heart in its front page.

I hope you find out what you knew all along.

“I can see you read it a lot.” He stated, musing through the pages and stopping at some passages.

She leaned forward to slap his arm. “What are you doing? Start at the beginning!”

He laughed out loud at her exclamation, his eyes meeting hers.

“Ok, bossy. I definitely will.”

After a few hours of talking and laughing together, she felt the tiredness taking the best of her.

“Goodnight, Az.” She said when she stopped by the door. Even during their conversation, he still held the book, keeping it close to his chest.

“See you tomorrow, Gwyn” She had just turned away when she heard him. “And thank you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and saw him lifting the book. “Anytime.”

And when she finally shut the door of her bedroom, she couldn’t stop the light feeling on her chest.

***

On the next day, she knocked on Nesta’s door. It was the afternoon, and both Cassian and Azriel were out paying one of their routine visits to the Illyrian camps.

That morning, at service, Gwyn felt like she was flying. She sang like those ancient hymns were all that was left in the world. Even some other Priestesses had commented on that after it was over. And at practice, she couldn’t help her grin when she spotted Azriel across the training ring. And couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her cheeks when he almost immediately turned his head to her, the corner of his lips tugging upward.

She woke up thinking about their meeting at the library, their casual conversation and bantering. She didn’t feel an ounce of discomfort when they were together; everything was so easy. He knew her, her story; he had saved her, for Mother’s sake, and he didn’t make her feel like porcelain, like one blow could shatter her.

Instead, she felt braver and confident when he was around. They could still talk and laugh together as if they hadn’t shared that terrible experience in the past. Mindful of each other’s traumas, indeed, but... It still was light. Trustful. She hoped he’d read the book; she could secretly picture his eyes flipping through her markings and notes. She wanted him to know that part of her.

“Come in” Nesta said from within, interrupting Gwyn’s reverie.

She opened the door, only to find her sister sitting comfortably in an armchair by the window, book in hand and a cup of tea in another. Her training leathers were displayed on the bed, as she thought of training afterwards.

“Hey” Gwyn greeted. She didn’t know where to start.

Aside from Rhys, no one was aware of her recent discovery about the mating bond. Of course, that didn’t stop her sisters from smirking mischievously whenever Azriel was around, at training or during meals. Gwyn knew both Nesta and Emerie had picked upon whatever she was feeling towards him, but they were kind enough not to inquire in public.

“What’s going on?” Her brows furrowed as she got up of her chair.

“Nothing.” Gwyn took in a deep breath. Out with it, Berdara. “I was wondering if you could borrow me a dress.”

Nesta squinted her eyes, and raised an eyebrow as a slow smile started to appear on her face. Cunning, as ever. “May I ask what for?”

Gwyn herself didn’t know. When she found herself alone with Azriel for a moment during training, she had asked him what outfit would be suit for the occasion. He just shrugged with a half-smile, and reassured her she didn’t have to worry about it. But even so, she wanted to look decent for a night out.

“I’m going to Velaris tonight.”

Nesta gasped quietly, and Gwyn could see her eyes were shining with pride. “Alone?”

“No.” Gwyn went to sit at the trunk by the bed. Seeing that Nesta was still staring at her with that knowing smile, she added “Azriel’s taking me to see the Velaris Philarmonic Orchestra.”

She watched as her sister gave her a broad smile, and couldn’t help the blush on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing” Nesta hummed back, as she opened the doors to her wardrobe. “Just the two of you?”

Gwyn nodded, standing up and joining her sister in front of her rack full of clothes. So, so many outfits, a myriad compared to Gwyn’s scattered ones. “I don’t know what one’s supposed to wear to the theater. Even less so to watch a live orchestra.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, but her eyes were fixed on the garments in front of them as she scrolled through her various dresses. “Well, I do.”

They spent the next few seconds in silence, as her sister skillfully searched through fabrics. Strangely enough, Gwyn didn’t feel as nervous to have told her as she thought she would. But she was certain Nesta was only waiting for the right moment to fill her with questions.

“Oh, wait. I know.” She passed Gwyn and went to the trunk by that king-sized bed she shared with Cassian. The thought of her sister and her mate didn’t make Gwyn blush the way she once used to, but now the predominant feeling was that she could have that, perhaps. One day. That thought alone made her stomach flutter.

“Here” Nesta drew a burgundy midi dress out of the trunk. “Try this on.”

The V-necked laced bodice wasn’t too tight around the waist, and it had a light and also lacey skirt that draped around her knees, showcasing her legs. It was modest, and yet delicate and elegant.

When Gwyn looked at herself in the mirror, Nesta standing behind her as she zipped her up, she was breathless. It’s been a long, long time since she wore a dress, and this one fitted her perfectly. Alongside with the necklace, her freckled skin and hair, it made her feel… Beautiful. Stunning, even.

“You look splendid” Nesta stared at her through the mirror.

“Thank you.” She turned to her friend, who grabbed her arms and hugged her. She could see she was having fun.

“Do you have shoes to match this?”

Gwyn tilted her head.

“I could use my flats.”

Her sister shook her head, and reached for a matching pair of ankle-strapped scarpin heels under her bed. “Now there you go.”

Suddenly Gwyn felt an urge to cry. She was so happy to count with her sisters at moments like these. It made her excited for the ones to come.

“Hey” Nesta seemed to notice her tearful eyes, and urged her to sit next to her by the bed “Are you ok?”

She nodded and sighed. “I’m just… Happy. I’m nervous, but it feels good to know you girls have my back.”

“You know, Gwyn” Nesta grabbed her hand, her tone gentle. “I was going to say that you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t feel like it, that Azriel would understand…”

The thought of her declining his invitation made her heart ache. She didn’t once consider it; she was just glad to be spending time with him. That hewanted to spend time with her. Just as she opened her mouth to state that, her sister went on:

“But I can see that you want to do this. And I just wanted to let you know that I’m happy for you. And I can’t wait to know all about it when you get back.”

Gwyn squeezed her hand and gave her a cheeky grin:

“I’m excited, Nes.” Her words were barely a whisper as she confided.

“As you should. Now go” She nudged towards the door, smiling. “Go have some fun.”

#gwynriel #gwynriel supremacy #azriel x gwyn #did someone ask for gwynriel moments #i live for gwynriel #gwynriel headcanon #gwynriel fics #gwyneth berdara #azriel and gwyn #azriel #post acosf #acotar #I LOVED WRITING THIS AND NEXT CHAPTER IS EVEN BETTER #oops i already have like 2 more chapters written in advance #thanks as always for your support #and reblog this if you really like it to reach more gwynriel stans!

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shinydelirium · 3 years ago

Text

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 21 (Kiro) Part 2 [Chaotic Space] & [Tacit Agreement] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of chapter 21: Part 1

Enjoy~

[Chaotic Space]

We made our way to the hotel lobby.

Every waiter who passed by Helios only gave him a small glimpse. He continued to do his own thing as if he was already used to such behavior and just let it pass him by.

I tugged on his sleeve and motioned for him to come closer.

MC: Do you know something about their expressions?

Helios: No.

Helios: They only know that I’m a “special guest.”

A playful smile crept into his eyes but at this time the lobby manager stepped forward and stood in front of us, casting accusing eyes on Helios.

Manager: Sir, I hope you will not cause trouble to the other guests.

Faced with such a firm and awe-inspiring question, Helios smiled lazily and turned his head to look at me.

Helios: Are you troubled?

I shook my head, feeling the manager’s face darken a little bit, and Helios’ smile became more triumphant and mocking.

Manager: If you are threatened, you can tell me right away. This guest has a history of taking other people’s belongings.

Helios: So much rubbish.

Helios: Step aside.

Helios stepped forward impatiently, took me towards the door and I looked at him with a snicker.

MC: You’re not stealing people’s cell phones to send text messages, are you?

Helios: I tried normal communication.

He said this nonchalantly, warning the waiters who were observing secretly.

Helios: They just want to keep me here as ordered and restrict my communication with the outside world.

Helios: On the other hand, as long as I don’t leave here, I can do as I please.

MC: But if that’s the case, you can walk straight out the exit, right? How can you not be able to leave?

Helios: That is what makes this hotel interesting.

As we talked, we arrived at a door and Helios pushed it away while I stared blankly.

A dazzling light shines through the crack of the door. As we moved forward, it instantly covers my entire vision—

An embellished blue is embellished in front of my eyes. The sound of waves rushes to my ears, sweeping away the fatigue and burden of this period in time.

In the distance, a few people were on surfboards riding and jumping over the waves and women in bikinis lay on the beach sunbathing.

I stared at Helios next to me in a daze and he seemed to be unsurprised as though he had seen this scene many times.

MC: Have we crossed?

Helios: ….

MC: Is this the work of an Evolver?

Helios didn’t seem to want to explain anything. He took a handful of sand from the ground and stuffed it into my hand.

Helios: Hold onto it tightly.

In the next second, he took my shoulder and walked to the other side of the beach.

Under the bright, hot sun, my forehead unknowingly oozes thin sweat.

I don’t know how long it has been until a door similar to the one before appeared.

Helios pushed open the door skillfully and pulled me in.

The sun behind him suddenly disappeared and was replaced by an endless field. Many stars covered the entire night sky.

Before I could marvel at the sight, Helios raised my hand to my eyes.

Helios: Open your hand.

I obeyed his words and opened my fingers gently and the dense, fine sand was scattered like smoke and dust under the starry sky, quietly falling down to the ground.

It’s so real that it sends chills down one’s spine.

Helios: Although it is not clear what the principle is, it should be the use of “doors” to connect many real spaces together.

MC: Do you mean this is actually Loveland City or somewhere on Earth?

Helios: No, all you see here are people who come to the hotel.

Helios: It should be some kind of different space.

He took me to walk in the star-shrouded wilderness. The crescent moon bends and the night wind swept over the weeds making a rustling sound.

Maybe because Helios is here, my heart is incredibly calm.

Helios: What’s wrong?

MC: Although I think it might not be a good time to say this kind of thing, don’t you think it’s beautiful here?

Helios: I brought you here because of the beauty. ***UWUWUWUWUWUWU!!! 🥺💕That is classic Kiro!!!***

Helios: Otherwise, I wouldn’t have taken you away like this.

I was surprised. Helios’ expression was faint as if this the answer was obvious.

MC: Is there anything else that’s weird here?

Helios snorted and reached out his hand to count.

Helios: Volcano eruptions, Tyrannosaurus in Jurassic Park, valleys full of poisonous insects, tropical rain forests, deserts, polar regions….

MC: ….

MC: ….It seems that you have suffered a lot.

Helios: At least it gave me some fun.

Before we knew it, we came to another door again. After he opened it skillfully, he led me to step on the clouds.

I looked down and dizziness swept through me.

MC: …This is?

Helios: A rare and special place.

He pulled me to sit on the clouds, soft as velvet, and the pale pink sky seemed to be within reach.

MC: Do you remember where all these doors lead to?

Helios: Each space has a door with at least three doors and at most six doors and the space leading to it is basically fixed.

Helios: Try a few more times and you will know.

I looked back against the light. How long has he been trapped here and how many attempts has he made by himself?

MC: What does it mean “basically fixed”?

Helios: When I first arrived, I went through the doors several times and the space changed.

Helios: I was short on time so I haven’t found a pattern yet. This place is bigger than I thought.

MC: Wouldn’t it be dangerous if a guest ended up in the wrong place?

Helios: Not that dangerous.

He turned his head and half of his body was already out of the clouds.

I subconsciously wanted to catch him. The friction felt fleeting at my fingertips and I watched in horror as Helios gradually receded.

MC: ….!

Helios smiled calmly. In the next second, he squeezed my palm—

Gravity pulled me down quickly like a boulder. At the same time, his arm tightened and he took me into his arms.

I stared at his eyes blankly. My heart beat violently because of the weightlessness as light and shadow past behind me.

Helios: Don’t be afraid.

At the end of my field of vision, I saw a vast expanse of whiteness. We seem to have fallen into the end of the light.

Suddenly, we seem to have landed onto a very soft place and even bounced back a few times.

I opened my eyes, propped up, and found myself lying on a bed with Helios beside me looking at me with a smile.

Helios: Now you understand.

Helios: Someone in the hotel is secretly manipulating everything.

Helios: You can only appear where you “should” appear.

From a drawer, Helios pulled out a piece of paper with many weird graphics on it and pointed to one of them.

Helios: Like I said before, this here is a different special space just like this Rubik’s Cube…

MC: Wait a sec.

I looked at the distorted three-dimensional figure on the paper in confusion.

MC: ….I can’t tell that this is a Rubik’s Cube.

Helios: …..

***In case any of you don’t know, it’s a known fact that Kiro’s drawing skills suck😆. He ain’t no Piscasso but I still love him as Mr. Spicy Chips🥰🥰🥰 ***

Helios’ expression was a bit stiff. He took out a pen and drew a more distorted figure on a blank space.

I lay on the bed and couldn’t help laughing.

Helios: That funny, huh?

MC: No, it’s nothing.

I tried to suppress my laughter but seeing Helios’ expression, I couldn’t help but let it out.

I took the pen from his hand, turned over the paper, and drew a regular three-dimensional figure of a Rubik’s Cube.

MC: Rubik’s Cube…as you were saying.

Helios looked at the figure I drew in a daze. Finally, he turned his head and let out a faint chuckle.

He cleared his throat and pointed to the Rubik’s Cube.

***I just absolutely love how these two interact with one another😂😂😂***

Helios: After my investigation, I suspected that every space in the hotel is like each square on a Rubik’s Cube.

Helios: Therefore, the number of doors will vary depending on the position of each block.

Helios: However, the space we have just experienced is the state of the Rubik’s Cube at rest.

Helios: But if the “Cube” is rotated, the space will change.

MC: Isn’t that troublesome?

Helios snorted coldly, his eyes flashing with disdain.

Helios: Even if it gets disrupted again, it can’t erase the “Rubik’s Cube” itself.

Helios: There will be no way out.

[Tacit Agreement]

For the rest of the time, I tried to digest what Helios said, but I kept finding it strange.

MC: Let us not mention for the time being whether the people who were taken away from the Wish Club were brought to the Wish Hotel.

MC: For this hotel alone, it serves Evolvers under the guise of storing Evol…

MC: Just to trap them here?

MC: If it’s that’s the case, what happened to that guest I saw leaving when I came here?

Helios: Nothing but a cover.

Helios casually grabbed a pillow, leaned on my side, and laid his arms on top.

Helios: Whether it’s “stored” or not, the Evol of the guests in the hotel is indeed gone.

MC: ?!

Helios: This hotel has equipment for detecting Evol energy.

Helios: I saw that were no Evol energy fluctuations in anyone.

Helios: After realizing this, I confirmed that every guest who leaves the hotel is the same.

MC: How did you do that….

Helios: Haven’t found it yet.

Helios: Customers who accept the Evol “storage” service should have a special “door”.

There was a cold glint in Helios’ eyes.

MC: But it feels that there are not a few guests here and there is no description of Wish Hotel from the outside world.

MC: Does it mean that these storage behaviors are voluntary?

Helios: That’s not important.

He turned his head and looked at me lazily. It might have been my imagination but his eyes seemed somewhat tired.

Helios: The important thing is that the Evol energy that originally existed was indeed “taken away”.

Helios: They won’t be taken away for no reason.

Suddenly, I thought of something and looked at Helios in front of me. I sat up abruptly.

MC: This strange hotel is also related to the foundation that should serve ordinary people.

MC: The foundation is doing things for GR again.

MC: Could there be GR members behind this hotel?

MC: Are they collecting Evol energy for research? Or looking for CORE?

Helios: You have quite the habit of asking a lot of questions.

Helios closed his eyes. His reaction didn’t seem surprising.

Helios: Find the person behind the hotel and then we will know everything.

Helios: Thinking more is a waste of brain power.

MC:…You’re right.

I mumbled and went back to the bed again, looking at the man with his eyes closed, my brain spinning constantly.

MC: That being the case, I have a good idea. Maybe I can find the person responsible.

Helios: No way.

Helios didn’t open his eyes as if he completely guessed what I was going to say.

MC: I haven’t said anything yet.

Helios: No way.

Helios opened his eyes with dissatisfied and the light outside the window fell on his distinct eyelashes through the soft gauze of the curtains.

Looking at the more vivid person in front of me, I couldn’t help but raise the corners of my mouth.

MC: I am now a “guest” of this hotel and it’s only reasonable to enjoy their special services.

MC: Since I’m here, even if I don’t ask for it, they will definitely achieve their goal in another way.

Helios: I have other options.

MC: Definitely not faster and more straightforward than mine.

MC: Besides, didn’t we also cooperate perfectly in that Hunter Game before?

I stared at him calmly and gently grabbed the corner of his sleeve.

MC: I believe you will protect me.

Helios’s eyes became turbulent.

Helios: No third time.

After speaking, he took out the wooden board on the side of the bed and in his hand was a microcomputer.

MC: How can you still have a microcomputer?

Helios: I dismantled several computers at the front desk.

Helios: There wasn’t enough time. Only set up the intranet.

Helios said casually and quickly started typing on the keyboard.

Helios: You’re in room 2176? ***It’s not a Kiro chapter without some numeric slang sprinkled in. MC is staying in “Love You Kiro” room🥺💕***

MC: Yeah, you found this out too?

Helios didn’t speak, only a soft hum was left in the air.

Then, he took out two small devices from another cassette and stuffed them into my hand.

Helios: Communication equipment. Put it in your ears.

MC: Where did you remove this from? You didn’t take apart the phones in the hotel too, did you?

Helios only raised the corners mouth slightly, set aside the satellite computer, grabbed my wrist and pulled me down.

Helios: So many questions.

He made no attempt to hide the fatigue in his voice. He sighed as if he could finally feel relieved.

Helios: I haven’t slept well these days. Let me rest for a while.

[End of Part 2]

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc season 2 #mlqc season 2 spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro #kiro spoilers #helios #helios spoilers #love and producer #koi to producer #mr. love queen's choice #mr love game #mr love dream date #mldd

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inventors-fair · 3 years ago

Text

From Text to Title Commentary

This contest went a little haywire, and I’m not super certain why.

The basics of this contest were simple: make a card based on a mechanic. I said mechanic instead of ability or keyword because some stuff isn’t quite either. Devotion and Party are just sort of counting tools, and ability words aren’t even rules text. But some people took it a very strange direction. I thought it was pretty clear what counted, and there were plenty of things that very obviously counted, but people just kept asking about other things. While I understand that that is part of the brainstorming process, and you might come up with a cool idea and then not know if it works or not, I really wish you would have just assumed the answer was no and work on something you know would have counted. Why make a card called “Hybrid Mana” when you could just make a card out of any of the dozens of existing mechanics? It felt like you were trying to be unique at best, and purposely trying to mess with me at worst. But how uniquely you answer the prompt isn't important. What’s more important is that the card itself is good, or even clever. The prompt are just that: prompts. I am not challenging you to answer the prompt most creatively, I’m asking you to make a creative card that fits within the prompt. That was the important part.

Which gets me to the next thing. I specifically didn’t want players using the ability on the card. Part of that was just because it would be too easy, but part of that was because I wanted to see you guys get creative. What are some other ways to represent trampling? What else can life be linked to? I didn’t want to say that they could have nothing to do with it, because that’s hard. Would a metalcraft card that mentions artifacts at all count? But I think the point was still clear: I wanted to see cards that had nothing to do with their originator. Sadly, I got a lot of those. Some spelled out the ability. A lot were enablers: a bloodthirst card that dealt damage once a turn for creatures, a card named constellation that makes enchantment tokens, etc. I really wanted to see stuff completely different, and I don’t think I got that across. For that, I apologize. I should have been clearer about that, or put it in the mandatory section instead of the encouraged section.

Sorry for the downer. This was a rough week. Hopefully my commentary form here on out doesn’t sound too bitter. But here it is:

@azathoth-the-bored - Decayed

So while I specifically said that you’re not allowed to use the mechanic on the card, I also said I didn’t want you to just spell it out, as you did here. This gives the enchanted creature decayed, just not literally. If you had removed that and just had the last ability, I think this maybe would have been a fine uncommon as a slow removal spell.

@bread-into-toast - Daybound

Alright, you got me. Technically, this does not have the ability daybound. It just interacts with the day and night cycle, just like daybound does. While that’s allowed, it’s not really what I was asking for. I wanted to see a new interpretation of the ability, completely unconstrained from the originator. So, faire-wise, I’m disappointed with it. As for the card itself, I think it coils use work. The fact that it can’t transform no matter what feels like a strange restriction. A lot of the creatures are better on their night side, including abilities, so you might end up sealing a creature on their more powerful side, and when it turns to day, they will end up buffing their team better, even though they can’t attack. If you seal them on their day side, then they just attack worse at night, which I guess is fine. The fact that it can hit planeswalkers is just so weird. There’s only about 10 planeswalkers that can attack, only 2 that can transform, and only 1 that does both. Why even put it on there? It’s just going to confuse players who might expect it to stop them from activating. If it just said “permanent” I’d be fine, because then it could hit Westvale Abbey, or Poppet Factory, stuff where the transforming is a bigger deal than the attacking. What you ended up with is a card that is just trying too hard to fit a very specific role, and I think you’re worse off for it.

@decayingbooks - Fortify

I don’t think this card is as good as you think this is. I do like that it can be used defensively and “offensively,” but both of those options aren’t particularly good. If you target yourself, that’s a very small amount of benefit for four mana. To Arms does the same thing for two mana and draws you a card. If you target your opponent, it’s a fog that leaves your opponents creatures untapped. The utility of a card that does both is not worth the mana cost. This card could be one mana, and I still don’t know how often it would be played. I love the flavor though, and it’s a good way to make a card using the name fortify. NOTE: I wrote that all before you updated your submission to change it to a sorcery. Yes, it makes more sense, but it loses half of its utility, and becomes a far worse card. I think you needed to look at cards that already exist to get an idea for how to cost your cards or what players would want to play. Flavor is good, but it’s more important to make a well-designed card.

@deg99 - Dethrone

This card has a lot going on, and I think you could have toned it down a touch. The center ability is the main thing here: kill something and its controller loses life. A time-old tradition, and probably fitting at 5 mana. The fact that it gets super cheap targeting something the monarch owns is also cool! It fits the theme, and now you get their best blocker out of the way, amking it even easier to get the monarchy from them! Except then you become the monarch anyway. I think the top and bottom ability are detracting from each other. The top part punishes a player for sitting on the monarchy by making it easier for you to target them, which is good! The bottom part is just sort of insult to injury. It removes the coolest part about the monarch: the interaction among players. Most cards that grant monarchy in some way protect you, giving your opponents something they have to team up to fight through. This one sort of protects you, but is clearly made to be more aggressive, which doesn’t work well with the monarchy mechanic. Lastly, the flavor text I think kind of goes against the rest of the card. Regicide kills a creature, despite in theory killing a king. Queen Marchesa makes you the monarch, even though she is technically one. When I read this card without flavor text,I completely understood that I was killing a monarch, then becoming one. The flavor text muddies that by claming the thing you killed isn’t the monarch, and while that is technically true, it doesn’t match the flavor as well.

@demimonde-semigoddess - Escalate

What a weird little card! The name fits the first ability, that’s for sure. At first I wasn’t sure if that was just worse than a copy spell, but the second ability changes that for sure. It goes from a weird combo card to something you can just sort of play for free that maybe has a bonus bit of text. While I get the desire there, since it feels bad to have such a narrow card, I think the player playing this card WANTS it to be bad. If you see this card as a johnny or a timmy, you think of how cool that first ability is and just kind of ignore the last part. Other players will play it as just a normal tormenting voice with maybe some utility if you happen to have an X somewhere. The fact that there’s two completely different abilities means I can’t figure out which is the reason to play this and which is the extra part. That first ability does have some issues in and of itself, though. I don’t like that it’s a flat bonus. I wish it either doubled or reduced the cost or added mana. Currently, you can just cast a spell with X=0 and get three free bonus out of it. While that is sort of the point of this card, it’s freeness is a little scary. Mostly when you get to things with multiple Xs. This lets you deal 15 damage for two mana with Crackle with Power, or make a bunch of hydras with Hydra Broodmaster for 1 mana. If this card was more clearly focused on the X part, maybe just being a cantrip at one mana, I think I’d be more okay with it. If it doubled X, then at least you’d have to sink something into it. Also, I’m not sure if it’s just a typo, but so far as I know, this works with X costs that are not mana. I believe that it would affect cards like Chatterfang and Storage Lands, which could cause some problems. I also don’t know if it would affect things like Devastating Summons or Firecat Blitz’s flashback, where there’s an X in the cost, sort of. Last thing I’ll point out is you don’t need to phrase it like you did. Unbound Flourishing does almost exactly what you want, just with doubling instead of adding, but it still makes it clear you can change X with the spell or ability on the stack, not “as it resolves.” Sorry if I sound harsh, I just wish you would have committed to this being a combo card so it would feel like a fair trade-off for the amount of power it offered, or that you reduced its impact so that the X part can feel more like a bonus than the focus.

@dimestoretajic - Living Weapon

This is a strange one. First, it’s got a triple colorless mana cost. We’ve never seen a card with one of those, even 2 is reserved only for a 10 mana spell, therefore being only a fifth of its cost. But I can see why, mostly. Artifact creatures can be dumped onto the board extremely quickly, so you want a fairly restrictive cost. Even so, it being such a small creature kind of makes the restrictive cost feel even less worth it. You really need a board of creatures in play for this to be good, and it’s hard to know if this is ever better than just a chief of the foundry, who pumps toughness as well and is always castable. In eternal formats, though, this card could be a beast. The legendary clause is kind of what holds it back there, though. Again, you normally want to dump your hand, so the fact that you can’t play two of these if you have them in hand is a bit aggravating. Lastly, there’s that tap ability. Why is it there? Thematically it doesn’t seem to fit at all with the concept of a living weapon. Mechanically, it doesn’t seem to fit with the type of deck you’d want to pay this in. If you want to give your entire board of creatures double strike, you’re usually doing it because you have a lot of small creatures that want to attack. Having to tap them and him for mana goes against that strategy, and what are you even casting with that mana in a deck like that? The other thing it does is give a spell or two pseudo-affinity, which just seems unnecessary. Would a deck play this for just that ability and ignore the double-strike stuff? It all just seems so odd.Still, this is one of the better entries this week. It’s got some issues, but I like how it knows exactly what it’s here for and is very good at it, as well as working with the name. It’s just tacking a bit too much on top of that.

@fractured-infinity - Constellation

I think you’re overestimating this card. This is a 5 mana card that requires an extra three mana to do anything. Yes, it doubles itself every turn, but those copies don’t do anything other than trigger constellation. That’s good in a constellation deck, but this is a card that’s ONLY good in a constellation deck. If I play this and survive three turns and have 8 of these in play, there’s no way I’ll be able to activate them reasonably effectively. The flavor of this card is also tied too closely to the mechanic. None of this quite feels space like, or like I’m connecting things like constellations connect stars. I would suggest trying to find some other way to make it useful without the ability, or limit the number of tokens it makes but make the whole card cheaper. Right now it’s just too narrow and hard to use, and even the deck that wants it may be dead by the time it really starts being useful.

@ghoulcalculator64 - Banding

Ah, I see. It’s a rubber band joke. Fair enough. I think this card is not good. Four mana is a lot for this small of an effect. Yes, icy manipulator is a famously strong card, but Pacification array was not (though it had a lot of utility because of improvise being in the set). Two mana to tap each turn is a lot, and the fact that this doesn’t have a body like Fan Bearer or Gavony Trapper is a heavy cost already. I think you needed to do a little more research into what other cards of this type existed when making this.

@gollumni - Grandeur

Well this is a bit of a dud. It’s very hard to find a good way to use this card. It’s a fog, but what isn’t? It lets you get in one hit with one creature for sure, but at the cost of not getting to hit with anything else, and not being able to block anything for a while. The exact templating of this card has some minor issue, but I do want to point out you were clever not to make it target, so they can’t kill the targetted creature in response. Instead, you choose upon resolution. It’s a bit of a shame you HAVE to choose something, meaning you can’t just use this as a fog when you’ve got nothing in play, but maybe that’s for the best. Better to avoid turbo-fog making a resurgence. The last sentence also sounds a little off. Looking at Duneblast, I might just say “tap the rest.” I also really wish there were some way to not make this rare, but this would probably be an annoyance even at uncommon, so maybe it’s necessary.

@helloijustreadyourpost - Fateseal

Cool idea, execution is a bit off. One mana removal spells, even slow ones like this, are probably too good, especially at common. I could maybe see a card like this being pushed in a set where they really want playable enchantments, like a set with delirium or constellation. I know the big downside is that they still get a chance to swing with the creature before it dies, but I don’t think that offsets the massive upside of being an unconditional one mana kill spell. Conceptually, I like it. It’s definitely the complexity level of an uncommon, and the flavor is spot on. I think the fact that it triggers on your upkeep is mechanically a good idea, but a little awkward because a lot of people will assume it cares about the creature’s controller’s upkeep, like most similar cards. That’s not really on you, though, and if the rest of the set doesn’t do that, it’s fine. I could almost see changing it to grant the creature “sac this in your end step” instead. However, if the set has death synergies, that might matter, too. I guess this card is hard to judge because I could see it doing a lot of work in a theoretical set, but outside of any set, it’s just way too good. I like it, though, and it’s a great fit for this week, it’s just too strong.

@hiygamer - Hidden Agenda

I like the concept here, but I think you maybe underestimated it. The most obvious comparison here is Profane Tutor and Wishclaw Talisman. Both get you your cards a little later, but with some downsides compared to this Hidden Agenda. Being better than the two most recently printed tutors is a pretty big sign you’re maybe too strong. The exact phrasing also lets you pay the one during your opponents turn, so you can have the card in hand by the time you untap. Flavor-wise, I think it works. It does feel like you’re up to something, and you’ve got it hidden away, but I kind of wish it could be MORE hidden some way. Right now it feels a lot less like its hidden and more like it’s just in your hand but costs 1 more. But that’s getting nitpicky. It still feels like a good fit of card and name, which is the focus of this contest. I just think you could have pumped the brakes a little more, either making a more expensive tutor or a more hidden card.

@hypexion - Will of the Council

I was certain someone would do this. William of the Council. Bravo. But why does he have to do with voting? Surely there are other councils than Paliano’s. For this week specifically, I would have really wished you kept further away form voting. Yes, this doesn’t have Will of the Council, but it cares about it. Anyway, the card itself? I like it. I think the last ability is really cool, and adds some wrinkles to time when everybody is already agreeing on how they’re going to vote. You can also do some silly things where you purposely vote a certain way to get a bunch of treasures or get the result you actually wanted. I also like how playing him encourages you to be t he good guy: you want to make sure other people want what you want. That’s a cool way to build a deck. The first ability messes with all of that, though. First, there’s a lot of math. There 5 permanent types you’d have to count every time you vote, with the number of artifacts changing after each one. Lands would be the tough one, but creatures would be annoying, too. In a conspiracy draft, there’s also probably be some confusion to if conspiracies count, or Tribal, or Snow. Then there’s how it messes with the second ability. As soon as you get one extra vote, all of the fun of the second ability goes away. Most votes only have two options, so you just get to pick both. You were clever with the name and clever with the ability, but maybe a little too ambitious with the card itself.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes - Haunt

This card is a little weird. Flavor wise, I mostly like it. I like that the spirit is the same size but behaves differently than its originator. The name feels a bit mismatched, since this is less haunting something and more letting something else do the haunting. I would expect some sort of spirit to haunt the creature, not for it to die and come back to haunt others. As for the card itself, it’s not as good as it looks. For reference, Undying Evil, Supernatural Stamina, and malakir rebirth are all one mana. This is three mana to make a token that is almost strictly worse. It loses abilities, has to attack and block, but at least it has vigilance? I don’t understand the flavor of those abilities, either. Is it just an aggressive spirit? I would have expected it to have gained flying, but without it I don’t understand what exactly this spirit is. I keep thinking I’m missing something, but as I see it, this card is just not quite there on mechanics or flavor.

@kellylogs - Vigilance

It’s been a while since we’ve seen a card like this, but I remember the time when Mardu Ascendency, launch the fleet, and similar effects were all the rage. I like how this one specifically doesn’t create the token tapped and attacking. It sort of sells the flavor that they are leaving someone back in order to stay vigilant. I think this card is fine, but I have one giant issue: why did you specify “taps to attack?” All that does is make this card say “whenever a creature without vigilance attacks, make a token.” I know I said you’re not allowed to use the ability on the card, but specifically not using it feels even weirder. If it didn’t say that, I would feel perfectly fine with this card, maybe even make it a runner-up, but the “taps” part in there makes it clear that you didn’t feel confident enough in the design, and though you needed some way to tie the card back into the ability, something I specifically said I wasn’t looking for.

@loreholdlesbian - Encore

What a show this is. I like this card, but it’s very hard to judge. In some formats, this would be a powerhouse. Four mana for an extra turn with some extra cards is a great rate, and the lose clause is not nothing, but might be ignorable. Otherwise, though, this card could be a bulk mythic. We’ve seen two similar cards in the last few years, it’s hard to know what the rate on this card would be in this day and age. I’ll say what I can: this is a really cool concept and a really great way to answer the prompt. I just am so scared of extra turns in this day and age, what with the prevalence of them in recent years. Yes, this loses you the game, but is that enough? I just don’t know. I’m sorry, I wish I could help more. I like this card, I just am failing a bit as a judge right now.

@maispace - Bloodthirst

I think you came at this challenge from the wrong direction. It seems like you started by thinking of the ability of bloodthirst, then made a card around it. This is an enchantment that basically makes it so you always get your bloodthirst triggers. I don’t really understand how the card itself is bloodthirst. Is the idea that the creature spells are bloodthirsty? And so when you cast them, they’re “going for blood,” dealing damage? I don’t quite get the flavor. What the card does, though seems cool. It’s effectively damage that ramps up every turn. I like how it messes with strategies. Normally in aggressive red decks where you want to be playing burn like this, you also want to be playing a lot of low-cost creatures. But this card wants you to just play one creature a turn in order to get max value from it. I like that this sort of encourages a different type of aggro deck: one where you’re trying to tap out for big creatures every turn. Or maybe playing flash creatures? Or maybe you have a lot of activated abilities, so you can still use your mana? There’s a lot of cool, unique ways to take advantage of this card, and it might be worth it. If you trigger it at least three times, you get 6 points of burn for 3 mana, which is good! Feels a little odd at uncommon, but I could see this being a lame rare. I would just hope there’s enough enchantment removal in the set that this wouldn’t just be that oppressive. Even one damage a turn can add up in limited.

@mardu-lesbian - Improvise

Oh my. First, the flavor mostly works. I get that you’re sort of doing what you can with what you have, regardless of its utility. It’s a little odd that it doesn’t do things with your hand and is stead almost sort of reanimatey, but I think that’s a fine stretch to make the mechanics work without being too wordy. As for the ability, oh boy! It is very easy for this card to kill someone. I could easily see a combo deck forming from this. The random part I both like and dislike. I like it because it gives you a need to build around: you can’t just put the one big card you need in there to combo off, you’d need some way to partially empty your own graveyard to ensure it works. I also don’t like it because if you don’t keep your graveyard clean, you still have a chance of it woking anyway, meaning whether you win or lose is basically decided randomly, which is not super fun. Another strange quirk of this card is that it can actually be used relatively fairly. In a modern blitz deck, you probably won’t get more than one or two power out of it (maybe three if you’re playing those spectacle cards), but just being a spell that grants trample and maybe a bit of power is really all they need. This card being at common feels really strange as well. It’s a little bit complex of a card, in that it requires paying very close attention to the board state and also your graveyard, and needing to randomize it. While that might be fine, the swinginess of it would get tiresome in limited. It’d be pretty easy to get to the point where you have every mana value from 1 to 5 in your graveyard and your opponent is at 4 and, again, whether you win or lose the game comes down to randomness. I really like the idea of this card, but I wish it was a little less randomized.

@martianjune - Evolve

Evolving is the idea of growing and adapting to circumstances, and this catches that flavor, but maybe has one too many effects. Adding a counter is a nice base line, and growing when dealt damage is great flavor, and fighting works with the damage part and kind of works to represent evolving to adapt. But as a whole the card gets a little messy. The biggest issue is it’s not clear whether you fight when it’s dealt damage or when you cast the spell. I think you’d want to grant the creature the ability. Perhaps: “Put a +1/+1 counter on target creature you control. Until end of turn, that creature gains ‘whenever this creature is dealt damage, put a +1/+1 counter on it.’ Then it fights target creature you don’t control.” That would be less confusing. Unless you do want it to keep fighting infinitely. There’s also some weirdness in that this does the same effect twice back to back, putting counter on it before and after, which is a little weird, but hardened scales decks prefer it that way. As an instant pump spell removal spell with extra utility, I think this is maybe too complex even for uncommon. It also doesn’t really have a great way to include the reminder text that the creature needs to still be alive to put the +1/+1 counter on it, which confuses some new players. For the most part I like the design of this card, but it’s just too complex.

@misterstingyjack - Threshold

You’re playing with fire, here. A tutor on a land is incredibly powerful, even one as weak and slow and narrow as this. We’ve seen the incredible power of Urza’s Saga, and while this is weaker, it may fall into the same trap of assuming that cheap is the same as weak. I also don’t get the flavor at all. A threshold is like a barrier, so I kind of get that it’s a land, but is this supposed to represent specifically the barrier between the rest of the world and presumably the legendary land you’re tutoring? Okay, now that I write it out I kind of get that. But why is it legendary? Normally that wouldn’t bug me that much but A) on lands its a big deal and B) the card itself cares about legends, so it’s kind of relevant. I think if this specifically stated lands this might be fine, but this card seems specifically made to try and be broken, which I think is not a great idea.

@nicolbolas96 - Eternalize

Well that’s quite the removal spell. It even removed the oxford comma from the reminder text! Seriously, though, this card is pretty scary. While it can be used fairly as a removal spell, it also has some random combo potential, like magus of the abyss or leonin abunas, or other stuff I’m probably not thinking of. It also seems absolutely devastating in commander, where it’s entirely possible you completely remove their commander from relevance, or protect yours somehow? This is a really hard card to evaluate, because we’ve only seen one other card similar to it, one with the stars, but this is also an instant with a permanent effect. I’m not a huge fan of the latter aspect, though I appreciate that the name at least clues people in to the fact that it lasts indefinitely. I’m very glad it’s at rare to make up for the many confusions that will come from this card. Lastly, this is pretty cheap for this effect. It’s basically two mana instant speed removal in white that can’t be protected by indestructible or even reanimation. This kills things that shouldn’t be able to die. Maybe that’s fine? Like I said, hard to evaluate, but I think I come out on the side of positive. Not great, I think it’s more trouble than it’s worth, but it’s at least something new and exciting.

@nine-effing-hells - Planeswalk

There’s some templating issues with this card that makes it unclear to me what it’s trying to do. Let’s say I have eight lands in play when I play this. I shuffle them into my deck, then each player reveals cards until they reveal 8 lands. Then I may put any number of those lands onto the battlefield. I’m going to assume under my control? It would need to says so, because right now they would just go under their owner’s control. Next, players shuffle “the rest” into their library. The rest of what? As written, it implies the lands, but I’m also shuffling the other cards revealed, right? Though they never left the library, so either way they’d get shuffled. I think you’d want to say “You may put any number of land cards revealed this way onto the battlefield under your control, then each player shuffles the rest of the revealed cards into their library.” Mas polymorph is the closest I could find to this. Anyway, the card’s mechanics: I think this is a little underwhelming. It’s a lot of counting and shuffling and stealing for very little gain. You’re doubling your mana for 8 mana, which is actually one above boundless realms or nyxbloom ancient and two above mana reflection. But with this you get to steal your opponents’ lands! That’s kind of just worse than your own lands, since they won’t tap for the right colors of mana all the time. You’re also thinning their deck by a pretty significant amount, meaning your opponent is actually getting some amount of benefit out of this (unless they’re mana screwed, in which case you were winning anyway). I think this only really has any use in commander, where the “each player” part means you’re more likely quadrupling your mana. I guess that’s pretty good for eight mana. This is also insanely good in landfall decks, obviously. I think I like this card, but there’s a lot of things pulling me from it. It’s a cool mix of scapeshift, oblivion sower, and boundless realms, but kind of feels bloated. It’s just trying to do so much, and because of that it’s got a massive mana cost and a lot of annoying to deal with shuffling and counting, nto to mention the amount of confusion that stealing lands usually leads to. Lastly, and I almost missed this, all the lands come into play untapped, which feels excessive. Eight mana to double your mana permanently that also doubles your mana the turn you play it is just begging for trouble. I think this would be a card everyone at the table would groan when they see, potentially even the player playing it. From a purely mechanical angle it seems like a good idea, but there’s just so many little issues that add up to make it a hassle of a card.

@Partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff - Dash

I think this card doesn’t do enough. I tink the “if” part is unnecessary. +2/+0 and haste is easily something worth 1 mana, even at common. The fact that it rewards targeting a creature that actually needs hast feels redundant, and I feel like it’s an attempt to get this card closer to it’s ability, which goes against the goals of this contest. I think you might have needed to step back and think about another interpretation of the word dash to try and come up with something more original.

@pocketvikings - Amass

I have one very important question about this card: why would you cast this for X anything more than 0? There’s reasons too, of course, but the card doesn’t really encourage it in any way. I can see this being played in a Rosheen Meanderer deck, but just a mana filterer, which seems weird. You can play it in a mizzix deck or other mana value matters decks, but that also feels really narrow. I think the most common use for X is cost reduction, like if you have a Baral and a Goblin Electromancer. Then that mana really is free, and it does feel like you’re amassing it. Sadly, those are the exact kinds of decks where you really don’t want to be limited to one more spell. So you have a card here that doesn’t really know where it wants to go. I think you either really needed to encourage big mana some way (like by doubling outright instead of adding), or by encouraging small mana (like just adding X mana alone, but allowing multiple casts, so you just get to double dip on mana reductions). As is, there’s just not a place for this card.

@reaperfromtheabyss - Threshold

I don’t quite get the reference with vampires. Is it a reference to them not being able to enter a house without being welcomed? Is that a threshold? Anyhoo, card seems fine. I don’t think it needed to be an artifact: plenty of walls in magic aren’t artifacts, and I don’t think they need to be. The last ability is just Baird. This is a wall that makes it hard to attack you. That’s all, folks! It hink it does a fine job of that, but it feels hard to feel that this card is necessary when Baird is already out there and has power and vigilance and only 1 more mana. I don’t think this card is bad, I just think it’s the most literal interpretation of the name.

@shakeszx - Bury

Spooky. Love the art, and kill spells are great places for one-name cards. The flavor really comes together. As with any creature-type based removal spells, you get some nitpicky things like “can you bury an elemental? Can you bury an ooze?” But that’s just what I expect pedantic players would say. I think non-spirit is fine trinket text. My biggest issue with this is that it’s very clearly a reference to the original ability. Bury got changed to “kill it and it can’t be regenerated,” and you swapped out the regeneration for indestructible, it’s current substitute. I wish I could have seen a card further from its source for this challenge, but I can’t argue against how solid of a card this is. I do wish it had found a way to stray further from terminate, which is almost exactly a reflection of this card. Also this is kind of going to be a boring rare (I say as someone who opened multiple dreadbores).

@snugz - Eternalize

Love me some gold counters! I remember putting aurification in my old defender decks. This really fits the theme. I like how you put the counter on it even though it wasn’t “technically” necessary: you could have just had it gain all those things. But the counter is a very useful tool for remembering, and the fact that it can be interacted with, unlikely as it is that you can remove the counter, it still technically gives you something you can do about it. The defender and can’t activate abilities is neat, but the other two parts seem odd. Turning it into a treasure doesn’t really do anything other than random stuff like counting towards Revel in Riches. I think you wanted to grant it the treasure ability. The fact that it can still activate mana abilities is what tipped me off to that, since that seems incredibly narrow otherwise. I also think this is closer to a white card than a black card. It’s extremely similar to both Guard Duty and Minimus Containment, both white cards. Black would be much closer to just outright killing the creature, especially for a 3 mana uncommon. Still, I like the flavor of it.

@starch255 - Extort

Well this is not something I was expecting. I can really respect the attempt to make something new with what you’ve got. You may be pushing the boundary a bit harder than I liked, but at least you had fun with it. The card is strange, but I think I like it. Haste is a weird ability because it doesn’t scale evenly, so 5 mana for 4 power haste is kind of in line. The “flying when attacking” is a nice way to power it up and down a bit, and the one toughness makes this really fragile. It also sort of helps with the flavor: high toughness is the one thing most commonly associated with turtles. Still, something about this card feels off. Even with haste, 5 mana for a 1 toughness creature is a hard sell. In the right format, this would be a beating and a half, and in the wrong format, this would be last pick every draft. Ravnica, where this card seems to be from, is famous for its many 1/1 flyers. Especially with conditional flying, you could probably have pumped up the toughness at least to two. But hey, funny card, okay in some formats probably, and a cool two color design.

@stellarlight - Encore

Visual: A magic show. Three identical magicians jump through the air with happy smiles on their faces, an outfit identical to theirs is on the floor. The audience is mesmerized.

Now this is a strange card. First off, I think this card is a little close to the original ability, which I tried to discourage, but not so close that I’m disqualifying it. I just think you maybe played it a little safe. As for the ability, how strange! At first it just seems like an incredibly overcosted Kaya’s Ghostform, but the fact that it hits opponents things means it’s a little closer to Minion’s Return. The fact that it makes a token instead of reanimating the creature has upsides and downsides: it means you can still do graveyard things with the creature card in the yard, but it means that bounce spells are kill spells. If you’re taking your opponents cards, it’s the opposite. The bonus ability on this is pretty cool, though. It makes this card really cool in blink decks, since you can enchant your guy at the end of their turn, untap, then blink it on your turn with a charming prince or something. The tokens stick around, too, so you’ll end up getting three ETB triggers in addition to the one you already were going to get from blinking it in the first place. Still, I think this card is a mana too much, maybe more. Minion’s return is the closest basis to this card, and it was an uncommon that almost never got played. This requires setup to ge the most benefit from, and still costs two more, including another color! Aura’s are already so easy to mess with, sinking 5 mana into one just to get blown out with a removal spell on the stack, or having someone mess with your blink effect before you untap is very likely. I think just four mana, or even 3 might be fine. I think it’s a really cool idea, though, and other than the cost (and the similarity to the ability), I like this card.

@wilsonosgoodmcman - Fateseal

They’ve been trying to design a card like this for years I feel, and you got a pretty good version of it. It’s a bit like spell queller and a bit like Oblivion Ring. I think the name fits pretty well, and I like how you reinterpreted the “seal” from meaning “decide” to meaning “trap.” The templating on the bottom is a bit off: you could probably steal it whole from Spell Queller. The cost also seems right on the money: just a touch more expensive than O-Ring, same price as Cast Out or Ashiok’s Erasure but with comparable downsides to both. I think this would se play in a lot of blue white control decks. Part of me wants to complain and say that this card is boring and too close to things that have been done before, but I think I’m wrong on both accounts. This is a role-player in the format, not a headliner. A good card, and a good answer to the prompt.

@wolkemesser - Grandeur

Making a Lorwyn style incarnation is a really clever way to get that name to work. Your reworking of the shuffle clause is pretty interesting, and is a clever way to set up that last ability. And that last ability sure is something. It gives this creature basically a permanent on-death effect. It still needs to be cast and die, but after it does, you’re good. Your opponent has to 20 you in one turn. But as a mythic that needs to be set up is that fine? If you play a temple garden into avacyn’s pilgrim or bird of paradise, you can get this out by turn three or so. If you play a sacrifice outlet before then, you can set up this combo nearly immediately. Even so, graveyard hate can hit it, just not all graveyard hate (many players use grafdiggers cage in historic, for example). If I were in charge of deciding if this card sees print, I would be terrified. It’s a really cool and maybe balanced ability, but I’m worried it would turn quite a few games into do-you-have-it games of combos vs. graveyard hate. It’s probably fine though. I like this card.

And that’s everybody. If you want to talk to me about anything in particular, feel free to contact me at our discord.

-Mod Mr. ShinyObject

#commentary #mtg #magic the gathering #text to title #custom magic card #inventor's fair

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

Text

The Unsaid (Spencer Reid Imagine)

Summary: Spencer and Reader spend Halloween doing something unforgettable.

Category: Smut *NSFW Content 18+ A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I promise I’ll try to improve and not make it so cringy next time Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: cursing, choking, unprotected sex/creampie, penetrative sex, Dom! Spencer Word Count: 4.3K

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Call it cliche, but you looked fucking hot.

Pigtails on either side of your head were tied with a red ribbon bow. Your white polo button up wasn’t buttoned at all but rather, secured with a knot right at your sternum. The shirt was pulled so taut, cleavage was showing. Just south of your red plaid, pleated mini skirt was white knee high socks with little bows at the top seam. You wanted to wear black heels, but they would’ve killed you by the end of the night, so you settled for the next best thing - black high top Chucks.

Hell yeah - you were a sexy schoolgirl. Granted, you had to keep it somewhat P.G for the younger trick-or-treaters, but you didn’t mind giving the hot single dad’s a little show. At some point, you actually stopped checking the peephole and took your chances, not minding running the risk of high school trick-or-treaters on your doorstep seeing a little more leg than deemed appropriate. After hours of handing out candy, you tried not to lose your charm despite your exhaustion. That worked in your favor.

When you heard your doorbell ring, something in you told you that it wasn’t a little kid knocking, so you provocatively leaned on the door frame once you opened it. And your instincts were right - for the most part.

At first glance, it was like you were looking at a living paradox. His boyishly charming face and unwillingness to meet your eyes for longer than a couple seconds made him seem so young but how he was dressed reminded you of your grandpa’s church attire. Unabashedly, you eyed him up and down, whereas he was looking . . . respectfully. Yeah - that’s the word. Respectfully.

You crossed your arms over your chest, making your breasts push together further. This caught his eye, but he tried to pretend it didn’t.

“Mmm, alright, I give up. Whatcha dressed as? Sexy professor?” You flirted. He cleared his throat, evidently unused to the forwardness you were exhibiting. “A federal agent actually,” He answered, flipping open a badge to reveal his credentials. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

Your demeanor completely changed. Your posture straightened out and you dropped the smirk on your face. You were rendered speechless, so you wordlessly nodded.

“My name’s Dr. Spencer Reid. Um, can I come inside?” His voice was so sweet, it was misleading. Were you in trouble? If so, why was he being so nice?

You did your best not to feel scrutinized while he observed the interior of your house. He was paying special attention to all of the Halloween decors. You thought you saw him smiling as he accidentally walked through a fake spider web because he was so tall. You took the seat straight across from him making things feel sort of like a homemade interrogation, what with the singular dim light hanging above the two of you as you sat opposite one another.

“I think maybe I should change into something more . . . appropriate.” You were about to get up from your seat when he stood up and put his hand up to stop you.

“That won’t be necessary. Here.” He jerked his dark gray cardigan off of himself and handed it to you before sitting back down. You stood there, clutching his large sweater in your hand. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to process.

“Um, thank you.” You slipped it over yourself and pulled it closed across your chest with crossed arms.

“Yeah, no problem.” He said with cool indifference. You thought this would’ve been a bigger deal - an FBI agent handing you his sweater - but his display of equanimity made you choose not to pay any more attention to it than you already did.

He began asking you questions about the neighborhood, the people, even about the town. You became acutely uneasy with every question you answered, hoping you were saying the right things. It wasn’t like you were guilty of anything, but being interrogated like this just put you on-edge. You hoped that he was able to distinguish that the source of your anxiousness came from the situation, and not from any possible criminal activity that could be related to the case he was working on.

As curious as you were about why he was asking these questions, to begin with, you thought it might actually be better not to know. Otherwise, you might grow paranoid, but still, you couldn’t help but ask the obvious - “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all. And if you do find something suspicious, just give me a call.” He reached inside his satchel and retrieved a card to hand to you with all of his contact information on it.

“So how do I know you’re not actually the guy I should be suspicious of and this was all just to get me off your radar? Or a ruse to get into my house?” You joked, flipping the card between your index and middle finger.

He had to chuckle at this. “Well, if you truly suspected something about me, why would you open the door for me?” He crossed his arms and put them on the table. “What was it about me that told you I was trustworthy enough to cross the threshold?”

Without missing a beat, you told him, “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

You’d never spoken with that kind of confidence or speed before, but something incredibly right about what you said.

He wouldn’t hurt you. You just knew.

“What makes you think I won’t?” His question sounded serious, but you swore there was some sort of a sexual undertone in his voice.

You tried to think of a satisfactory answer, but all you knew for sure what that your gut was telling you he wasn’t bad. Maybe it was something soft about his eyes, maybe the color that resembled sweet honey.

“A hunch, I guess?”

He seemed delighted that his smoldering intensity had an effect on you. He was proud of how the heat of this moment alone shook your confident core. He caused you to revert back into a blubbering mess after he looked at you. You were intimidated by him.

“So you’re not scared of me?” However, you chose to answer him would build up his ego either way. Because even if you lied, your body language wouldn’t. It would tell the truth and nothing but.

You tried your best to make your voice smooth, and free of shakiness caused by fear. “No, I’m not scared of you.”

‘Well, you should be.’ His eyes seemed to say.

That’s when he reached both hands onto one side of the table and pushed, causing the table to slide out of the way. Like how a prey bolts when the predator nears, you shot up from the chair and backed up into the nearest wall. Theoretically, it wasn’t the best idea if you wanted to escape, but you didn’t want to escape - you wanted him to attack. You liked it.

Spencer’s massive hands encased your neck completely, occasionally adjusting the force with which he used to choke you. Sometimes he’d let go, just for a second, so you could breathe, but it only made things crueler because, in the next breath, or lack thereof, he’d tighten his grip and choke out any air you were gasping for. Before you started seeing stars, you watched his eyes. They were darker than wine. He was enjoying this.

While your head lolled backward, the rest of your body seemed to tranquilize too. You had no control of your movements, so your body was shed of his cardigan when your arms straightened by your sides. You were like a rag doll. A toy.

You were completely submissive to him. He had you under a spell that was cast by the magic of his dominant touch.

“Still think I won’t hurt you?” He growled into your ear. He was so close you could actually smell him and feel the heat radiating off his body.

He loosened the noose he made with his hands so you could speak.

“You want to . . . but you won’t.” You replied between short breaths.

Finally, he removed his hands completely, making your feet crash hard onto the ground. You didn’t even grasp that he was suffocating you using such a firm grip that you actually levitated off the ground. He managed to hold all of your weight and lift you up just by bracing your neck.

“You can hurt me if you want,”

He looked too eager to hear you say that, making you want to fight for dominance.

“But only if I get to do what I want to do, too.”

His sweet honey eyes intensified with fervor.

He put one hand on the wall and leaned forward, shortening the distance between you two. Soon enough your faces are millimeters apart. You look down at his soft lips with doe eyes, so he feels comfortable making the first move to kiss you. At first, it’s gentle and hesitant. A total departure from the dominance he was displaying just seconds before. But then he sneaks his free hand into your hair and pushes your head slightly to deepen the kiss.

Not even meaning to, he bucked his hips forward, making your back arch against the wall. Reid takes this opportunity to remove his hand from the wall and place it on the small of your back. Slowly and sloppily, he moves away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses down your chin, neck, and onto your collarbone. Meanwhile, his hand has traveled up to the knot that secured your button up, and in one swift tug, the knot came undone.

“You are way too good at that.” You breathlessly acknowledge, shrugging the shirt off of yourself.

You feel him smirk against your skin.

Cocky bastard.

His ever growing desire to see more of you overcomes him, and he can’t stop after just removing your shirt. So with the same unbridled passion he used to choke you, he pulled at the hem of your skirt, forcing it down and off of you. Threads practically ripped at the vigor of his actions.

He must’ve recognized a look in your eyes that said he was a little overdressed in comparison to you because he didn’t stop you when you pulled at his tie and worked it free, so he could unbutton his shirt.

With your body nearly bare and the only thing stopping him from railing you being his pants, he continued the deed. Reid puts a hand on the back of your thigh to hike your leg up. You gasp at the hasty change in positions. He was as ravenous as a predator, but his hunger was something only you could satiate - and he was hungry for more.

Spencer left a trail of wet kisses from your collarbone, to your sternum, and then along your tummy. All the while, your leg is still hiked up. When Spencer goes on bended knee, your leg rests on his shoulder, keeping your legs spread out.

“Tell me what you want.” He commands, before placing slow kisses along your inner thigh.

“I-” You’re at a total loss for words as Spencer’s kisses deliberately inch closer and closer.

“Is this what you want?”

In an almost chivalrous way, rather than taking your panties off and leaving you completely exposed, he pulls them to one side, giving him complete access.

“Yes. Yes.” You cry out, while you watch Spencer briskly lick his middle and ring finger.

Your body betrays you when he grazes his fingers along your lips, teasing you. You’re almost certain your legs would’ve given out underneath you if it hadn’t been for Reid stabilizing you with a steady hand on the leg that wasn’t hooked over his shoulder.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He purrs, slowly easing into the penetration. It’s almost worse having him enter you so unhurriedly as the process of adjusting to his fingers is drawn out. He refuses to increase his speed, wanting to see her beg for more.

“Does that feel good?”

You nod.

“Use your words, love.”

“Yes, yes, it does.”

Your validation does the trick. He begins to sink into you deeper and faster. You begin to fight for breath as Spencer curls his fingers. Until he knows you’re on the brink of finishing, his pace is relentless. You were so close, but devilishly, he pulled out.

“Spencer!” You yell, but before enough of your scream makes a sound, he plunges his fingers deep into your mouth, to taste yourself on them. This gesture is well received as you begin to suck on his fingers, pleasing him greatly.

“Good girl.” He utters.

You let your eyes drop from his honey ones to the growing bulge in his pants. For you cannot speak, you peer down at his pants and up at his eyes to ask for permission. He nods once and watches as you begin to unzip his trousers.

As you palm him through his briefs, you feel the warmth of his precum through the fabric. Without being able to control yourself, you lowered his briefs just enough to completely reveal him. Your eyes enlarge at the sight.

“You like that?” He coos.

You still can’t speak with Spencer’s fingers in your mouth so you nod instead.

Graciously, Spencer gives you room to breathe by taking his appendages out of your mouth and uses them instead to grip your hips and turn you away from him. He slammed the front of your body into the wall, causing your cheek to press against it.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you.” It was so bewildering how he managed to say things like that, proving he cared about you, but still dominated you with unrelenting aggression.

“Do you want me to wear -” You didn’t even let him finish his question. You cut him off by arching your butt so it would graze over his cock. In this, you gave him your answer. Your body yearned for him and you desperately needed to feel him raw.

Unlike when he was fingering you earlier, he accelerated his movements. He fucked you with an animalistic speed. You didn’t even have time to adjust to his full length before he pulled back and thrust again. His pelvis rammed into your ass so hard with each forward movement that would surely leave bruises on you both.

What you felt was indescribable. The pain would be quickly replaced by pleasure, only for you to feel pain again. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. He was hurting you, but in the best kind of way. Your bodies were tangling and merging. The heat that circulated in the air around you and the humidity emitting from your skin was ruthless.

On fire.

That’s what you felt - on fucking fire.

Spencer’s strokes picked up and started hitting you in a spot that made you cry out in anguish. You actually started standing on the balls of your feet, practically tip-toeing. With your palms pushed against the wall, it was only a matter of time before you clawed a hole into it. Truthfully, a guy never made you cum before, so this was a completely new feeling. It was like pressure was building up inside of you and you had to release it, but right when you thought you’d come undone, the pressure only increased. Neither you nor Spencer had to vocalize that you were reaching your peaks because your bodies were saying everything unsaid. And just when you thought the air couldn’t get stickier, and the heat couldn’t get hotter, you and Spencer came at the same time. The only word you could use to describe the feeling was sublime. Not the sex (well partially the sex of course) but Spencer.

Sublime.

His pace slowed down exponentially while he drew you closer to him to leave butterfly kisses along your shoulder. His arms enveloped you at his waist, and you almost indulged in his embrace by leaning into his chest, but there was no time when the doorbell rang.

“Trick-or-treat!” A group of kids yelled from outside.

You looked behind you exchanging looks that read, ‘Oh shit.’

Spencer flipped the light switch off that was right beside you before you took his hand and ran with him down the hallway giggling.

Here you were - two grown ups running from kids that wanted candy. How childish.

It was the combination of being choked, having sex, and running that left you breathless, but after a few minutes your heartbeat slowed down.

“I think they’re gone.” Spencer observed.

You trusted he was right and retreated from the room with extra caution. You reached into the dark to feel for the light switch. After the lights came back on, you saw Spencer crouching down, gathering your clothes off the floor.

You wanted to stop him to save him the inconvenience, but he was already helping you back into your clothes before you could even say, “I’ve got it.”

Spencer gingerly slid your mini skirt up your legs, frowning slightly at the tear in it that he caused. It was like evidence of his roughness, and he didn’t like it.

“Sorry about that.” He murmured.

You told him not to worry and that the rip made the skirt look cooler, which you could tell didn’t lessen his guilt, but it was good enough to make him smile and that was the intention anyway. Next to dress you in was the button up, and you had to laugh when, instead of tying a knot at the front, he opted for buttoning it up all the way to the collar. It was like he was trying to protect your modesty and dress you to look more respectable. Last to put on was his cardigan. After a small comment about letting you keep it, he started redressing. This is a moment you duly noted.

He took care of you first.

Was it stupid to fawn over such a small thing? Him helping you dress up first before he even dressed himself?

Your thoughts carried you so far away you didn’t even realize he already finished dressing and was putting on his messenger bag.

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You nudged his shoulder with your index finger trying to be lighthearted, even though the heavy weight of your inevitable goodbye was weighing on you.

He chuckled and licked his lips before responding. “Happy Halloween.”

You turned around to begin the miserable walk toward the door, while he was right on your heels, following closely behind. You opened the door for him to walk through and you smiled as the two of you lingered in the doorway. Evidently, neither one of you was quite ready to say goodbye.

Your mouth must’ve become a completely separate entity since you started hearing words rolling off your tongue without even processing them beforehand. “I knew that you wouldn’t hurt me not because of what you said or what you did, but because of what you didn’t say or what you didn’t do.”

There was something about the unsaid and the undone that told you everything about the unknown.

With an understanding nod, Spencer took a step away from the threshold.

He kept his head down and his eyes on the floor as he walked away with his hands in his pockets. The hopeless romantic in you wished he would look over his shoulder and back at you, or stop walking and turn around and run back up to you, but he didn’t. You almost thought he’d stop at the gate and say something, but no. He didn’t say a single thing. And for some reason, that was okay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You clasped your black push up bra behind your back, adjusting it in the front for maximum cleavage. Then you put on fishnets and a pair of black booty shorts. Last to put on was a white polo button up. That’s when you remembered it was the exact same shirt you wore for last year’s costume. It was weirdly nostalgic. You only fastened the shirt until it hid your midriff, but left the buttons that would expose your bra unclasped.

To say what happened next felt like some supernatural spirit came into the room with you would be a gross understatement, because as soon as you stopped buttoning your shirt, you could see and feel Spencer’s ghost in front of you buttoning the rest. All the way up to the collar just as he did last year.

So, just for Spencer, you fastened one extra button.

You painted fake blood under your nose and straightened your hair, which wasn’t giving off the desired effect. A black wig or a prop cigarette would’ve made your costume much more clear, but you’d been too lazy this year to obtain either of those things, so really the only obvious sign of who you were was the bloody nose.

Mia Wallace. Pulp Fiction.

Before stepping out of the house to join your friends, you put on thigh high black boots.

Luckily, they all saw what you were going for with your costume, so you felt slightly better, but there was still something weighing on your heart that kept you at a distance from your friends tonight.

Handing out candy to trick-or-treaters wasn’t really your speed this year, so you opted for joining your friends at a club. At first, you were able to convince yourself that you were having fun and that you weren’t completely miserable, but as the night continued, it became harder to lie to yourself. You weren’t having fun. Sitting in the silence here was most definitely not fun. Not to say the club was quiet, but you were. And the silence was deafening. See with Spencer, when you didn’t speak, whether it was when he left you that night wordlessly, or when you came together without even vocalizing that you would, the silence was okay. It was welcome. But here tonight, watching your friends enjoy themselves on the dance floor - the silence was suffocating. The longer you sat there watching them, the more you noticed how they weren’t calling you onto the dance floor to join them. No one cared to include you. It felt like a sign. That you should leave, because if your presence didn’t matter, your absence wouldn’t either. So you slipped out of the club, not surprised that no one saw you and stopped you or begged you to stay. You got into your car and instantly unzipped your boots. No wonder you wore converse last year, heels hurt like hell. When you threw the shoes into the backseat, you caught a glimpse of something lying on the floor.

Dark gray cardigan.

You’d forgotten that that was even there. Would it be weird to wear it again? It was a cold autumn night, and it wasn’t like you were wearing much to shield you from the cold, so merely for the warmth, you put on the cardigan.

You were in such a rush to be in your own bed again that you probably broke a couple traffic laws. After all, there wasn’t anything quite like seeing your house again after hours of wanting to be home.

But then again, nothing could compare to seeing Spencer Reid sitting on your doorstep reading. Absolutely nothing.

“Spencer?” You asked while blinking hard to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You didn’t know how you could tell it was him, but there was something in you that just knew. The same kind of gut feeling that told you he wouldn’t hurt you.

He looked up from his book and shut it with a smile when he saw you. You opened the gate and met him halfway in the walkway.

“You still have my cardigan,” He laughed while taking in the sight. “Mia Wallace, right?”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off of him. In the light, you could actually make out his features. He looked older now. His hair was longer and much curlier than you remembered. He even had some scruff on his face.

“Happy Halloween, by the way.” You recited the exact words you said and poked him in the shoulder just as you did last year.

“Happy Halloween.” He grinned, immediately understanding the reference.

“So . . . who are you dressed as this year?” It was only a playful question, but it seemed like he was ready to give you a serious answer.

Though his looks were deceiving and telling you that Spencer changed, his behavior told you he was still the same Spencer he was before. He looked everywhere except for right at you as he tried to think with an answer, and when he finally did speak, he couldn’t meet your eyes for very long. He still had his boyish charm.

“I, um, I’m dressed as someone who didn’t get very much sleep, spontaneously booked a flight, and came straight here to tell you he needed to see you again.”

“Mmm, very cool costume.” You quipped. When your laughs died off, a new type of silence emerged. It was very different from the kind you were drowning in at the club earlier. This time, the quietude was rejuvenating. The two of you were simply taking in the feeling of being in each other’s presence again.

“Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?” You asked, quoting Mia Wallace.

Of course, he knew what the next line was. “I don’t know. That’s a good question.” He replied, quoting Vincent Vega.

“That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.”

With that, the comfortable quietude returned to fall upon the two of you again, but you enjoyed it because you’d found somebody special that made things like silence sublime.

So much more was said in the unsaid.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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