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redstarwriting · 1 year ago

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the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his.

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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bloomyeu · 3 months ago

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with or without you

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: bottling you're feelings for so long, it begins to hurt. until you mention it.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst, (no) comfort, not edited

a/n: first fic :p lmk if u liked it hehe

part 2 | masterlist | requests

Love was something you always chased, yearning to feel what people experienced in the movies —the flowers, the kisses, the gifts, that meaningful connection that seems to exist only for a lucky few.

So when you met Chan, it was as if everything blossomed like flowers in spring.

It had started with little things, when chan would mention how much he missed you he on tour

ynnieeee haiiiii

hi channie!

hiiheyyy imithu smmsmsm

bfrjjd i do 2

ur back next week right?

yaya i am, we need to meet up once im back

movie night?

movie night.

You clung to these exchanges, even as you realized they might mean more to you than they did to him.

☄. *. ⋆

there were the times when you both were together, physically close yet emotionally worlds apart. You would catch glimpses of his smile, and your heart would race, but he never noticed the way your gaze lingered a little too long. He would tell you stories from concerts, his voice animated and bright, while you hung onto every word, even the ones that hinted at someone else who made him smile that way.

"You know, you always manage to pull me out of a slump," Chan said with a yawn, his voice laced with gratitude.

"Well, I'm glad I can help. You could basically call me your muse," you replied with a light chuckle, the words teasing yet sincere.

"Yeah, you're definitely my muse," he agreed, a soft smile playing on his lips before he turned back to work. You watched him for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread through you, knowing that he was your muse too.

As the days went by, your feelings only deepened, even as you tried to push them away.

You would lie awake at night, replaying every conversation, every laugh, every moment, searching for signs that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

But each time, you were met with the cold realization that his affection was platonic, kind, and distant, while yours was anything but.

“Chan, have you ever fallen in love?”

“Um, once, but it was a while back. Why?”

“No reason. I’v just always wondered what it feels like to be in that state of mind.”

“Well, it feels like…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “It feels like everything else fades away, and all that matters is that person. Like you’re finally complete, you know?”

“Must be nice,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied softly.

“So… no one on your mind right now?”

“Nope. You?”

You stared at him for a moment, heart pounding as you fought the urge to tell him the truth.

“Um, no… but maybe one day,” you said, forcing a smile.

☄. *. ⋆

As the months passed by, you found yourself lost in thoughts of him—his smile, his kindness, and all the love he had to give. The ache of missing him became a constant companion, a reminder of the feelings you harbored in silence.

With lunch in hand and a hopeful heart, you made your way to his studio. The anticipation of seeing him again sparked a mix of excitement and anxiety. You approached the studio’s entrance, eager to surprise him, when you nearly bumped into Felix, who was just leaving. “Hey, Lix! I haven’t seen you in forever!” you greeted, trying to mask your anxiety with a bright smile. “Hi, Yn! What are you doing here?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. “Oh, I’m just dropping off lunch for Chan. I haven’t seen him in so long and thought, why not surprise him, you know?” you replied, your excitement tinged with a hint of nervousness. Felix’s expression shifted subtly, his smile fading into a more thoughtful look. “Ah… maybe it’s better to save the surprise for another time,” he suggested gently. “Can you believe it? He finally has a girl in the studio! I’m actually happy for him—he’s really opening up and putting himself first for the first time since iv met him ahaha”

The words hit you like a cold wave. You tried to keep your composure, but inside, a mixture of confusion and heartache swirled. “A girl?” you echoed, struggling to keep your voice steady. “I didn’t realize…”

Felix nodded, his eyes soft with understanding. “Yeah, it’s new. But I think it’s a good thing. Chan’s been so focused on work and producing, and now he’s letting someone in. It’s nice to see him happy.”

You forced a smile, your heart sinking. “That’s… really good to hear. I’m happy for him, too.”

Felix gave you a sympathetic look. “If you want to talk or need anything, I’m here. You know we all are.”

You nodded, grateful for the kindness but feeling a profound sadness. “Thanks, Felix. I appreciate that.”

With a heavy heart, you turned and left the studio, the weight of Felix’s words settling over you. The lunch you’d brought now felt like a symbol of a hope that had been dashed. As you walked away, you tried to focus on the positive—on Chan’s happiness—but the realization that your feelings might never be reciprocated made the day feel heavier than it had before.

☄. *. ⋆

Although the two couldn't have been more apart, your feelings had just continued to grow.

Winter had finally rolled around, bringing with it the warmth of the annual Christmas party Minho would host. The past few months had felt like a fever dream, with your feelings for Chan growing ever more consuming. The holidays, usually a time of cheer, now felt tinged with an undercurrent of longing.

As you walked into the party, the festive lights and laughter offered a brief distraction. You scanned the room until you spotted Chan across the crowded space. With a deep breath, you approached him, your heart racing with anticipation.

“Hiya, Channie! It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” you greeted, trying to keep your voice light despite the fluttering in your chest.

“Yeah, it has. My god, I’ve missed you,” he replied, pulling you into a warm hug. As you nestled against him, you felt your heart clench, overwhelmed by a mixture of joy and sadness.

“I’ve actually been meaning to tell you something,” you began, hesitating as you tried to steady your nerves.

“Me too, actually,” Chan said with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “I hope it’s good news.”

“It always is,” you replied with a nervous laugh. “Well, tell me first.”

“No, you go first,” he insisted, a playful glint in his eye.

“Okay” you said with a soft smile. “Well I finally got tickets to the Wave to Earth concert in Seoul—that band I’ve been hooked on.”

Chan’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Oh, that sounds amazing! I’d love to. But… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you too.”

You felt a slight tightening in your chest, hoping for a revelation that might mirror your own feelings. “What is it?”

“Well, I finally have a girlfriend,” Chan said, his voice softening with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “Or, well, I’m planning to ask her soon. I’m really excited about it.”

The words hit you like a cold wave, and you struggled to maintain your smile. “Oh,” was all you could manage, your heart sinking as you tried to process the news.

“What were you going to say before I interrupted you?” Chan asked, his gaze gentle.

“Oh, um, just that you should go to the concert with me, I know much you love music” you replied, forcing enthusiasm into your voice despite the ache in your heart. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Chan’s smile was warm but distant. “That sounds great. I’m looking forward to it too.”

As the conversation shifted and Chan’s attention drifted to others, you found yourself standing on the periphery, the failed attempt at asking him out now overshadowed by the quiet sting of rejection. The realization that Chan’s heart was set on someone else cast a shadow over the festive atmosphere, leaving you to navigate the mingling feelings of friendship and unspoken longing. The party’s warmth felt like a cruel contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside.

fin.

part 2 | masterlist | requests

#bang chan #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #chan angst #skz x reader #skz angst #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #meimei works ౨ৎ

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caitlinclarkluver22 · 5 months ago

Text

~Tell Ur Girlfriend ~ C.C ( nsfw mdi)

warnings: light smut, a little bit angst, master baiting , cussing, anger love confession, w/w, consent was given throughout this fic btw, idk i think that’s it

pov: caitlin clark is with her boyfriend, but she just can’t get you off her mind

“ should i tell my boyfriend what ive been doing? been thinking of you. everytime i screw him.”

( btw this is my first ever one shot or wtvv sooo yeaaa 😭 also i js love this song with all of my heart I WILL NEVER GET TIRED OF IT!! i also don’t really know the word count…so please tell me how to do that im kinda dumb, and also don’t mind the switching in point of views, this was kinda a mess!💕)

also blue means flashback, pink are lyrics from the song!

“ fuck caitlin…yea you like that don’t you?”

Caitlin, in fact, did not like that. Her boyfriend had had a difficult and stress filled game tonight, and he needed something to help relieve his anger a bit. Caitlin, being his girlfriend, offered to help.

As caitlin stared longingly at the clock propped up on the bed side table, she awaited for when this was going to end.

“ oh yes- mm such a good girl for me hm?”

Ew. Caitlin didn’t like being called that…unless it was by someone else….no she can’t be thinking of her, that was long ago….right?

“ should i tell my boyfriend what i been doing? been thinking of you, every-time i screw him.”

Her boyfriend, after finishing, was now fast asleep and snoring in bed beside her. But caitlin couldn’t sleep, she could only think of you. She remembered the intimate moment as if it was yesterday….

…the team was having a sleepover, all the girls from the basketball team were there. They all were watching a movie, the fragrance of melted butter popcorn in the air, and the laughter that could be heard even if miles away taking over the atmosphere . You and caitlin had been best friends since high-school, you guys were inseparable.

Although you guys were best friends, everyone knew that you had a severe, but secret, crush on caitlin. and caitlin reciprocated those feelings too.

it was so bad, that even some of the fans had theories about the two of them, wether it’d be that they were secretly dating or even that they were just hooking up. therefore, when caitlin revealed her 3 month secret relationship with her boyfriend…the fans weren’t the only ones who were disappointed.

at the sleepover, everyone had fallen asleep, except for caitlin.

and you of course.

as you attempted to fall asleep, you felt a gentle tap on your back. you turn around to see caitlin with a small mischievous grin plastered on her face.

“ hey, you awake? psst…psst…hey wake up..” , caitlin whispers to you.

“ caitlin im not even asleep, i physically cant. and..what do you want?” , you say slightly irritable since you were so close to dozing off.

“ i don’t know..i just can’t fall asleep. can you?”

“ well not anymore thanks to you” you silently grumbled, sitting up criss crossing your legs.

you and caitlin had chosen the second couch, it was slightly small but they fit just fine. the other girls were on the seats they had chosen while in pairs , sound asleep.

caitlin was already in a sitting position, her legs criss crossed like yours.

“ so why’d you wake me up…?”

“ um just wanted to um-…..okay fine you got me. i don’t know im just bored out of my mind. plus isn’t this a sleepover..? like why is everyone asleep so early?” caitlin rambled .

you couldn’t help but chuckle at this, caitlin always rambled to you about nonsense. i mean of course she did, overall she was your best friend.

but when she rambled, it could also mean that she’s nervous…stressed even.

“ don’t worry cait, it’s okay i’ll stay up a little longer to talk to you if you want “ , you laugh.

caitlin did the cutest grin ever , her deep dimples showing immediately.

“ omg okay thank you so much- i just…idk needed someone to talk to.” she said, her smile fading out into a tiny but noticeable frown.

you sat there, worried.

“ hey you okay cait..?”

“ yea im fine..its just..” , she muttered while looking at her phone, her eyes slightly watering. she turned the phone and showed you what she was stressed about.

on the phone, it was on iMessage , she was texting her boyfriend. he was basically mad at her for “ not telling him” that she was going to the sleepover since he “ needed” her because of his incredible loss. he then proceeded to break up with her, definitely impulsively making decisions due to his anger.

as she continued reading the series of messages, she got more shocked with each message sent. her eyes scanning the screen, getting more angry yet sympathetic the more she read.

“ why would he say that? are you okay?”

are you okay?

those were the three words that made caitlin break. the guard she put up finally shattered as she started uncontrollably sobbing, hugging her best friend tightly.

“ i don’t know, i didn’t do anything wrong. what’s wrong with me…what did i do?” , caitlin sobbed incoherently, tears spilling from her beautiful brown eyes.

all her best friend could do was rub on her back slowly, comforting the athlete.

“ shhh…it’s okay caitlin. i’m here okay? i’m here.”

as those words left your lips, caitlin looked up at the girl, her eyes swollen and glossy.

“ maybe i just need to pay more attention to him, or maybe i just need to dress prettier or-“, she cried, her head hung in her hands now, slightly tugging on her hair due to the amount of stress placed on her.

“ no caitlin. look at me.”

caitlin brought her gaze from her hands to her friends face, gosh she was beautiful.

“ your the best girlfriend he could ask for, if he doesn’t want you to hang out with your friends, then honestly fuck him. he doesn’t deserve you and you deserve better. and i know that might be mean or harsh to say, but it’s true and someone has to finally say it. he’s always controlling your every move and everyone sees it. you don’t look happy anymore. if anything u look drained all the time. i don’t want to see you like that anymore baby. i love you too much to see you suffer like this.”

baby. ugh the pet name she loved to be called by you.

wait. did you say you…loved her? she stared at you, the question threatening to spill from her lips.

“ you love me?”

“ ugh of course i do caitlin! how could you be so blind? i’ve loved you ever since we first met in freshman year. ever since we saw eachother at basketball tryouts. i’ve loved you for so long, and you just keep letting this asshole break your heart over and over again. and i just have to comfort you and myself with the reality of everything. you know how much that hurts? having to live with the realization that you will most likely never love me back? and to think that-“, you were cut off by lips being pressed to hers.

caitlin pressed her lips against yours, hungrily grabbing your hair and pulling you closer, her hot breath mixed with yours.

you kissed back, grabbing onto her lovely hips, pushing her back against the arm of the couch. you straddled her, both of your hands on her face.

with one hand, you slightly pulled on her hair, causing her head to go back, revealing her neck to you. you kissed on her neck, searching for not only the sweet spot , but for the noises you dreamt that she’d make for you.

caitlin then moaned softly as you found the spot that made both you and her weak. after you heard the noise caitlin made, you made sure to concentrate on that one spot, sucking and biting on the place that mattered.

this action had caitlin a mess, her moans and whimpers slowly getting louder by the minute, both of their cores getting hotter and needier for eachother with every kiss they shared.

“ fuck i-i need you…”, caitlin whimpered, her hands grabbing onto your hair, pushing you closer to her exposed neck that was now full of purple hickeys.

“ shh don’t wanna be to loud…hm? be a good girl and stay quiet..”

…..as caitlin remembers the intimate moment, she didn’t take the time to notice her long fingers down her pajama pants, under her panties, slowly rubbing circles onto her now aching clit.

fuck she was close.

as she continued masterbating, she stuck three fingers in herself, moaning at the pleasure. she couldn’t help it. she moaned more at the combination she was feeling, the pleasure of three fingers up her core, while circling her clit at the same time.

as she was caught up in the moment, she moaned your name, a little louder than expected. she didn’t mean to.

as she finally finished on her slender fingers, she opened her eyes, only to see her boyfriend fast asleep and snoring.

it wasn’t until then that she realized how much she really wanted you. no….needed you. all she could do was sigh, lay down, close her eyes and dream about you, her dreams being the only place where her fantasies came true.

“ and if you want me, you gotta put the word in. go tell ur girlfriend, that im ur girlfriend.”

it was now the morning, she woke up with a little stretch looking beside her. right next to her was an empty spot that her boyfriend should’ve been in. then again, he always did this. after sex there was no aftercare or quality time spent together. it was just..well…sex.

she sighed with her head in her hands.

what has she got herself into?

“ cuz i don’t wanna live a lie, lie, lie.”

damn did she miss you. she missed the feeling of you against her neck, your kisses and ur sloppy hickeys. she missed the smell of that damn cherry chapstick, and she missed the sound of your moans that made her go insane.

she had to go see you.

there caitlin was, knocking at your dorm door, room 422, just like she had remembered.

“ coming!”

‘yea you will be coming very soon’, she thought.

you opened the door to see caitlin, she was dressed in a white nike jacket, black shirt under, and matching joggers that replicated the jacket, her hair was pin straight.

“ hey cait, what’s u-“, you got cut off when caitlin pushed her back into the dorm, pinning you against the front door, hands holding your wrists down, definitely going to be bruised later, as caitlin hungrily kissed you.

you moaned at the sudden action, moaning into caitlin’s mouth, only driving her to continue.

“ ugh i’ve missed you…” , caitlin grunted, as she moved her lips against yours, you kissing back even harder than she was.

“ caitlin…ugh…mm…caitilin what about y-your boyfriend..?”

“ ugh i can’t anymore with him, been thinking of you everytime i screw him, i swear.”

“ but what if he finds out? what if he catches us then-“

“ what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“ we were just friends, but then came in cupid. the tension was buildin, we had to pursuit it.”

caitlin was now on top of you, fingers circling your clit. both of you were partly unclothed, the only clothing intact being your panties.

“ fuck caitlin i’m almost there, please.”

“ please what?” , caitlin asked almost teasingly.

“ please just fuck-“, she was saying as there was a knock on the door, a shout coming right after.

“ caitlin! i know your here, your location says so!”

you and caitlin could recognize that voice from anywhere.

it was caitlin’s boyfriend.

well fuck.

“ go tell your girlfriend, that im ur girlfriend”

—————————————————————————————————————

OMGGGG I FINISHED IT!! i had literally the hardest time writing this like i legit forgot about it but then i came to a restaurant for a couple hours and my writers block sorta just vanished and i started writing sm.

IF YOU WANT A PART TWO JUST SAY ITTT!! idk if people willl actually like this, it is my first so please don’t judge too much, i tried my best! anyways i hope you caitlin clark fans enjoyed this! have a good day and remember to watch indiana fever tonight at 6:30!

#Spotify #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #angst #wnba #smut #lesbian

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ramblingoak · 1 year ago

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Care Package

Papa Emeritus IV x GN Reader ~ You take care of Copia after he gets sick at the end of the tour

Warnings: Copia being dramatic while sick, fluff, sfw, 1k words, not proofread forgive me

“I’m dying.”

Here we go. It was a good thing your back was turned because Copia would pitch a fit if he saw you rolling your eyes. You sighed and continued to pick up all of the used tissues that were littering the floor. When he let out a pitiful sigh you groaned, turning your head to glare at him.

“Copia, you’re fine.”

“No, no this is it. I can feel it.” You bit your lip to stifle the laugh that wanted to bubble out. Copia was endlessly dramatic whenever he was under the weather. “It’s near.”

“What’s near?”

“Death.”

“Oh Lucifer, you’re not going to die from a cold.” He started to respond but was immediately interrupted by a series of violent sneezes, the whole bed shaking from the force of them. You turned back to the dirty tissues, shoving them into a trash bag while he recovered. The sound of him blowing his nose filled the room and right when you were turning to check on him again a wet, balled up tissue hit you right in the face. “Son of a fuck! Copia!”

“Eh?” His adorably confused look stopped you from leaping onto the bed and strangling him, but just barely. The sight of his red, watery eyes made your irritation disappear. His face was flushed from the fever and sweaty locks of hair had fallen across his forehead. When Copia realized you were staring at him he groaned and threw his arm over his face. “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?” You dropped the trash bag and grabbed another box of tissues, slowly walking around the bed to sit by his hip. He whined when you tugged on his arm so you could see his face. “Hey, like what?”

“Pathetic.” You cooed at him, reaching out to brush his hair back. He sighed when you placed your cool hand on his forehead. “Weak and old. Hideous.”

“Well, this is all true bu–”

“Dolcezza!” Copia’s voice broke while he whined and he was overcome with a fit of coughing. You helped turn him so he was coughing away from you, rubbing his back as they came to an end. “Ugh, why are you here?”

“Someone has to take care of you.”

“You’re going to get sick too.” He rolled back over on his back with a groan. “I don’t want you to catch this.”

“I’ll just have to risk it.” You smoothed his hair out again, giving him a soft smile when he met your eyes. “I want to take care of you, Copia.”

“Fine, fine. Twist my arm.” He managed a weak smile and you resisted the urge to lean down and kiss him. “Thank you, amore.”

“You’re welcome, Papa.” You reached towards his night stand and grabbed the damp cloth you had set there earlier. Copia let out a relieved sigh when you wiped the sweat off his face. “Now, I’m going to clean you up a bit and then you’ll need to eat something before you take any more medicine.”

“I couldn’t possib–”

“It's homemade chicken noodle soup.”

You laughed when he grabbed your hand, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Did Secondo make it?”

“Yes, your brothers gave me a care package for you.” Copia sniffled a bit and you let him pretend it was from his cold. You got up to grab the laundry basket Terzo had given you and brought it over to the bed, setting it at Copia’s feet so you could show him everything inside. “Your ghouls also added a few things.”

“Anything good?”

“Primo gave me a salve I’m supposed to rub on your chest.” You shook her head at him when he waggled his eyebrows. Even when feverish he couldn’t help himself. “And Terzo added a book and these penis shaped hard candies for your throat.”

“Where does he find this stuff?” Copia made grabby hands for the candies and you tossed them over. He opened the bag quickly, popping one into his mouth and smiling around it. “These aren’t bad though, what book is it?”

“The Hobbit.” His eyes immediately started watering and you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. He used to read that to me when we were kids.” Copia cleared his throat and smiled. “What did the ghouls send?”

“Um, Phantom knit you a sweater but he ran out of yarn so it’s missing a sleeve.” You held up the bright blue monstrosity that the quintessence ghoul had proudly shoved into your hands that morning. “Other than that you got some eucalyptus candles and tea, a few crossword puzzle books and Aurora is letting you borrow her box set of all the Halloween movies.”

Copia’s face lit up at the last item, both he and the ghoulette had bonded over an intense love for slasher movies. You laid the sweater over his chest and handed him the dvd’s then busied yourself putting the basket away and setting the candles around the room while you both pretended he wasn’t crying. After he blew his nose a few times you wandered back over, the book from Terzo in your hands. Copia yawned and settled back into his pillows while you fussed over him, helping him get comfortable.

“Will you read to me, amore?” You wanted to get him to eat some soup first, but rest would be good for him as well. As carefully as possible you got up on the bed and sat next to him, smiling when he scooted closer and rested his head against your thigh. “Just until I fall asleep.”

“Whatever you need, Copia. I’ll be right here.” His breath was already evening out, his body going limp as you ran your fingers through his hair. You quietly opened the book in your lap, taking a few seconds to watch him before you started to read. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you! Also if you'd prefer to only be tagged in my reader insert stuff that's ok! Feel free to let me know!

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fic #my writing #papa emeritus iv x gn reader #copia x gn reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #copia fanfiction #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader

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hearts4werka · 11 days ago

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No Nut November!

authors note: our no nut November has officially started! I might change this schedule later but as I’m writing this it’s 6 am so we’ll see how it changes. Idk how consistent I’ll be able to be with this and that’s the thing I worry most about this so I apologize in advance if I might not post on one day 😭 small disclaimer English is not my first language and now let’s roll

| 🥐 means ANGST - 🍪 means FLUFF |

Visit - > masterlist | guestlist

🥐 - November 1st! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Don’t Do This Again” is available now!

• a heated argument with your boyfriend Matt who’s the fuckboy of the town about him sleeping with another girl at a party you attended last night but are you going to give him another chance, or value your well being and break things off?

🍪 - November 2nd! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Gothically Yours” is available now!

• you’ve forced your boyfriend to let you do goth makeup on him and the experience turns out to be more fun than he could have expected, leaving both of you giggling while laying on the floor together…

🥐 - November 3rd! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Skin Deep Scars” is available now!

• you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

🍪 - November 4th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Snow-Day Magic” is available now!

• december has finally arrived, snow has fallen and your daughter has never been more excited for your annual snow day with your husband Matthew matching her energy and enthusiast to which you fit right into, being the mother of both people.

🥐 - November 5th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Whispers Of Madness” is available now!

• ever since one unfortunate day, you havent felt the same mentally. The dark entity that now permanently stabled a special place in your mind, making you go more insane with eachasing minute. Whenever you try to reach out for help to the one person you trust, being yout best friend matthew he always argues that nothing is actually there and my brain is messing with me but I know more than ive lead onto. Are you going to finally shatter and possibly lead to murder, or maybe finally banish the evil living inside of you?

🍪 - November 6th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Birthday Tears” is available now!

• today was your birthday, the day you’ve never got to actually celebrate because of some family issues. Youve now always avoided your birthday and didn’t want to celebrate it, when you were coming home from the grocery store you were met with a sweet surprise when entering the house…

🥐 - November 7th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Underground Secrets“ is available now!

• your boss has set up a dangerous mission for you—to take down the intel of the notorious rival gang, The Vipers. Your boyfriend, a drug dealer of a rival organization, Chris is advising you not to go through with the plan because of how dangerous it is for someone like you, will you listen to your boyfriend or value your reputation over the risk of life and go through with the plan?

🍪 - November 8th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Adorable Chaos” is available now!

• one day you woke up to Matt becoming the best dad for two of your little fur babies, showing all of the affection you wanted to show them yourself but couldn’t and there was Matt fulfilling your little dream

🥐 - November 9th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Shattered Promises" is available now!

• a dangerous war was declared, the one thing you feared would happen in your life ever since your husband Matthew joined the military. The fear of him possibly dying out on the battlefield without a proper goodbye always managed to deliver you nightmares and now your worst fear came true, Matthew had to go off to fight for his country. Is he going to make it and come back home safely, or maybe you’ll forever hold the weight of him in your heart even without him among the living?

🍪 - November 10th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Newborn Miracle" is available now!

• the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

🍪&🥐- November 11th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Books, Breezes and Broken Limbs" is available now!

• one cool autumn afternoon, you’ve been reading your book in peace and minding your own business until your doorbell suddenly rings and you’re met with an unusual sigh, a zombie man holding his fallen arm. Will you help him out or freak out by the sight of the monster and slam the door in his face?

- November 12th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 13th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 14th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 15th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 16th

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 17th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 18th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 19th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 20th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 21st!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 22nd!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 23rd!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 24th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 25th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 26th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 27th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 28th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 29th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 30th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

& love and peace, V

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atlabeth · 1 year ago

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bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating.

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you.

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound.

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you.

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this.

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent.

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away.

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it.

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from.

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side.

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.”

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive.

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.”

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once.

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized.

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.”

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line.

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again.

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again.

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct.

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.”

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!”

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.”

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.”

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.”

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you.

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.”

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck.

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem.

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that.

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days.

All you had to do was keep your head down.

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did.

“Why?”

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you.

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not.

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?”

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.”

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?”

“How did you know I was Ravkan?”

“Your accent.”

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?”

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.”

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.”

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked.

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?”

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.”

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.”

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.”

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly.

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked.

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.”

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?”

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face.

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.”

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out.

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda.

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks.

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded.

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly.

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?”

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression.

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.”

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door.

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly.

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.”

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief.

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown.

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.”

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.”

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ”

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?”

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.”

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.”

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.”

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly.

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose.

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore.

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.”

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly.

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door.

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?”

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.”

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years.

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured.

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.”

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light.

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly.

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.”

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?”

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past.

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.”

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.”

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.”

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?”

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.”

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly.

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked.

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.”

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.”

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft.

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said.

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?”

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh.

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.”

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more.

“How can I refuse?”

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before.

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time.

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once.

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.”

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.”

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him.

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

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j1mmys-darl1ng · 29 days ago

Text

October 14th - quicksilver (smut)

Pairing : peter maximoff x reader

Warnings : MDNI!! DO NOT READ IF YOUR BELOW THE AGE OF 18!!

P in v, unprotected sex, peter talking you through it, no aftercare, human vibrator

A/n: im actually really struggling to write the rest of the fics, this is literally meant to be out tomorrow at the time of writing

DO NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT YOU CHOSE TO CONSUME, ITS YOUR FAULT IF YOU READ FURTHER

Peters room was the go to hangout area for the two of you. It was usually the right temperature, he'd have a stash of snacks (of which were mainly twinkies), a few warm blankets for those cold nights you stayed over. It was always perfect.

That leads you to this night. Peters head was resting on your lower stomach as both of you were watching some crappy movie, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts.

You could feel his shoulder pressing against the one spot that had been aching for him all day. Every shuffle from him, you have to stop yourself from squirming, trying to get more pleasure from it. Surely he doesn't feel the same way.. Right?

"hey, you ok?" you hear peter ask you, your head giving a small nod, adjusting your position. Thats all you needed for a small whine to slip past your lips.

That stupid damn smirk. Of course he has that stupid damn smirk after hearing that.

"what was that noise?" he scoots up, his elbows proping him up so now his face is mere inches away from yours. His stomach putting pressure on the area you needed him to, causing you to squirm slightly.

"..nothing..?" you knew he wouldn't let it slide. His warm breath was hitting your face, his lips oh so close to touching yours.

"bullshit" before you even registered it, his lips were on yours. You couldn't help but kiss back, your hands going to his hair and pulling him closer.

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

After a few minuets of making out, he begins to slip your shorts down your legs, kissing your thighs as he did so.

"god... Your gorgeous.." he groans, not waiting a second to rip his sweatpants off. He was so hard it looked painful, it looked like he would rip open his boxers.

With a blur, he's alright inside of you, his lips against your forehead.

"someones excited huh?"

"cant help it that ive waited this long" he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours once more but this time hes slower, beginning to thrust.

He starts of by being gentle, not wanting to use his mutation to its fullest extent just yet. He was pepering you with kisses anywhere he could reach, nuzzling his face between your breasts.

"you dont have to go soft on me, y'know? I can take it" you huff, getting a bit frustrated at the lack of speed from the guy that is literally known for speed.

"sorry princess" he chuckles "just dont wanna hurt ya'"

With that, he begins to speed up, his hands massaging your hips and thighs.

Not even a few minutes later, hes going x10 faster, his face burried in the crook of your neck. You had never thought he'd be the typa guy to whimper but he is definitely disproving you now.

His hips move in a blur, bringing you to the edge way faster than you'd thought.

"... Ugh... Keep doin' that... Please.." you whine, hands pulling his hair and your lips leaving sloppy kisses on his shoulder.

"wasnt plannin' on stoppin'.. M' pretty girl" his nails dig into your hips, his cock twitching against your walls as they begin to close in on him.

"AHG! Fuck... Shit" he grunts, his seed painting your walls white. His thumb sneaks down and rubs your clit, sending you over the edge and cumming around him.

"... Holy shit..." he huffs, his sweaty body collapsing onto yours.

"... That was amazing.." you tell him, only to realise hes fallen asleep cuding you.

A/n : sorry for how rushed and poorly written this is! Jaytober is kinda making me loose motivation especially since i dont have much free time to do it anymore and my mental health just loves to take a head first dive into depression

Thank you so much for reading! <3

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neteyamssock · 12 days ago

Text

NOT SO BAD, AFTER ALL.

╰┈➤ PART V.

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

summary: when neteyam and you met each other for the first time, they were overwhelmed with feelings they have never felt before.

wordcount for this chapter: 2.9k

tags: love at first sight, misunderstanding, arranged marriage/mateship, betrayal, angst, happy ending, etc.

a/n: this is so meh lmao. unedited. will edit later tho!

text dividers credits to @/cafekitsune

masterlist

part iv | part vi

PART V.

“Like you brother. I was asking tsmuke if she likes you…” Tsireya smiled forcefully, walking towards Ao’nung.

You felt your breath constrict, you cannot look him in the eye. You’re afraid, thinking that this is your consequences of letting your heart rule over your actions. The warning of the Tsahik was still fresh in your mind.

Ao’nung noticed your peculiarity, but Tsireya’s words quickly grabbed all his attention. After a few seconds that seems forever to you, you heard him sneer. “She’s just saying that, whatever. ”

You felt yourself relaxing. This is the first time you were glad that Ao’nung is a lot more dumb than you thought. If he was a lot smarter, then this could’ve been a lot worse.

Tsireya also relaxed as you and her exchanged glances. As Tsireya and Ao’nung talk, you heard that Ao’nung had finally apologized to Lo’ak, and didn’t seem as disgusted with the second sully boy. You were not aware what had transpired between Ao’nung and Lo’ak, but it seems that Lo’ak had finally proven himself to Ao’nung and earned his respect. You felt bitter when you came to a conclusion. It’s neteyam he’s not willing to be close to.

“He’s a skxawng, but he saved me from father and mother’s anger. Unlike someone else.”

You ignored his pointed stare. You are not his savior, it is not your duty to protect him from the consequences of his mistakes.

“Stop blaming tsumuke, Ao’nung. She was scolded by mother too.” Tsireya came into your defense, which you are grateful for.

Ao’nung’s eyes widened. He didn’t know, that’s for sure.

You didn’t really care. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, fear of being caught has not yet left your system. Before standing up to prepare more medicinal plants, you shot Tsireya a grateful glance for saving you. You cannot imagine how chaotic it would be once the truth is revealed.

I owe you life, sister. I hope I can repay this in the future.

Both neteyam and lo’ak got grounded. You don’t what it meant until Kiri and Tuk came to play with you and explained that the brothers were ordered to stay inside their marui without going outside for a few days. Kiri said that Neteyam got grounded because he failed on watching over lo’ak, and although you felt it was unfair to Neteyam, you remained silent. Jakesuli is their father, he has the right to do what he thinks is right for his family.

You tried hard to hide the loss in your face but Kiri could read you quite easily as she patted your back. “Don’t think so much. He’ll be fine, it’s just being stuck inside the marui until Dad finally calms down. If you miss him, I could sneak you in once Mom and Dad are out.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you shook your head. “N-no need. I’m not desperate…”

“If Tsireya can, and so can you.” She cut you off, making you gasp.

“Tsireya sneaked in?!”

“Couldn’t stand not seeing Lo’ak, so she asked me for help.” Kiri and Tuk snickered to each other, while you remained shocked.

After a few seconds, you shook your head with a smile. Tsireya has really fallen head over heels over the second sully boy. It makes you wonder if the Tsahik even knows this. There’s an immediate answer. Of course she knows. You even had a suspicion that the Tsahik already had doubts about you and neteyam. You are scared for you and neteyam if someone ever discovers what’s brewing between you and the oldest sully boy, but alongside that fear was the feeling of thrill; the excitement of going against the waves for the first time in your life.

“So what do you say?” Kiri asked you again when she finished laughing with Tuk. You hesitated because it might get the two girls in trouble.

“It must be Eywa’s plan to separate us two for a while…” You started, the words of the Tsahik still fresh in your mind. You don’t want any trouble coming Neteyam’s way as you had troubled him enough.

Kiri seemed to understand and didn’t push anymore. Tuk looked confused but knew she’s not in the right age to participate in this situation and could only hope that everything settles down soon.

You knew they were at the shore, but you didn’t come because you knew Ao’nung’s doubt. You told Kiri to tell Neteyam about it, and she promised to convey your message to Neteyam. You felt bad, but you firmly believe you are doing it for Neteyam. Unless you clean your own mess, you cannot let anybody know about you and Neteyam, because you know that it would ruin him more than you. He’d be an outcast, a disgraceful man that came after a promised girl. He’s too kind, too perfect for that. He doesn’t deserve that.

You told him you can. So you would. You began to prepare yourself for what you are about to do.

You heard that Lo’ak was saved by the rouge tulkun, payakan. It was almost unbelievable, but the mere presence of Lo’ak is the proof that his words were true. Tsireya believed everything he said. Although Lo’ak seem upset when everyone tried to convince him that payakan is a danger.

You missed Neteyam so much, but you persevered. You cannot mess this up. So the only thing you did that can comfort you in his absence was visiting your secret place. Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Neteyam sitting alone in the marui, looking at you as if he knew you would come.

“...Teyam,” You almost sobbed. You missed him so much. Without hesitation, Neteyam pulled you in his arms.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t come.” His voice quivered. He was afraid, afraid that you suddenly woke up and regretted whatever’s going on between the two of you. He tried so hard to stop himself from coming to you himself when Kiri told him that you wouldn’t see him for a while.

“I’m sorry, Teyam. I didn’t mean…”

Neteyam shook his head. “I know, reef girl. You know I wouldn’t force you to do things you are not ready for. We have a lot on our shoulders, both of us.”

You smiled despite feeling pain in your chest. “I shouldn’t be seeing you. I-I’m afraid that Ao’nung will use this to pick a fight with you.”

Neteyam looked at you, “He can pick a fight with me as many times as he wants, I would gladly accept it if it means being with you.”

You knew he was telling the truth, no falsehood in his words. But picking up a fight wouldn’t be the only thing Ao’nung would demand from Neteyam. His life as well. No na’vi would simply look away from the fact that their prospective mate is in love with another man.

Yes, you finally admit that you have fallen in love with Neteyam. You don’t know what love means, but you have never felt this feeling you have for Neteyam for anyone else. You cannot look away from it, you cannot run from it, and no matter how you tried to ignore it its there to haunt you all the time. You knew you cannot stop it unless you dug out your heart.

You leaned in his arms, looking at the bright bioluminescent freckles on Neteyam’s chest. You wish you could kiss them but you’re too cowardly to act on these desires. He seem to notice the fascination in your eyes as he kissed your hair.

“Like what you see?”

You rolled your eyes, you never expected that Neteyam would hide such cocky nature. He should be thankful to Eywa that he had something to live up to his arrogance. You wonder how many forest girls would be seething just by seeing you in his arms.

“Have you ever sneaked out with a girl before?” You heard yourself asking. To your surprise, he shook his head.

“Back in the forest, those things aren’t my priority, you know? I am the future olo-eyktan, used to be, and I have my siblings to look out for. This is the first time that I actually dare to accompany a girl deep in the eclipse.” His chest vibrated as his speak, making you smile as you leaned your face into his neck.

“I also never thought I’d do this, you know? I have never thought about it until I met you.”

“The ever dutiful tsakarem,” He teased.

“Ah, the ever dutiful son of Toruk Makto.”

Both of you laughed. You slowly separated from Neteyam as you took out a bracelet from your satchel.

“Here, i-i made it for you. I hope you like it.” It was something you weaved while you were avoiding Neteyam and locking yourself in your marui. The shiny shells and beads made from the roots of mangrove trees were something you have been collecting since you were a child, once dreaming of weaving something for your future mate.

You felt so complicated that you didn’t hesitate in taking some of those shells and beads you have painstakingly collected to make something for Neteyam.

“This… this is so beautiful. T-thank you.”

You felt amused seeing his darkening cheeks, glad that you had an effect on him like he has to you. You stared at his golden eyes, hoping he’d meet yours, hoping for him to understand what you want him to understand, what you wanted to convey but cannot speak of.

You weren’t disappointed, as he stared back at you with the same intensity and all your doubts settled. You communicated through your eyes, thousands of words yet none spoken.

You didn’t know how it started when your lips danced with his, matching each other’s rhythm with so much fervor. Your hand sneaked into his neck and to his braids as he kissed you like no tomorrow. At this moment you finally understand everything, from the moment you met Neteyam at the shore of awa’atlu. He’s everything you weren’t, everything you ever wanted. A promise of freedom, a taste of romance.

When your lips separated from his both of you were heaving, his arm possessively wrapped around your waist. You looked at his eyes full of burning desire, and you couldn’t help but to kiss him again.

He stopped you. “That’s enough, reef girl.” He chuckled as his thumb rubbed your lower lips, voice hoarse. “Wouldn’t want the Tsahik killing the both of us, because i don’t know if I can stop if we continue.”

You pushed him playfully and stood up, you know you must go. “I must go, forest boy. The Tsahik may visit my marui tonight and it would be bad if she does not see me there.”

Neteyam also stood up, staring at you tenderly before taking your hand into his. “I can do it, reef girl. Just ask me, and I’d do everything and you don’t have to do anything—”

You covered his mouth. “I cannot. It’s unfair to you.”

“But this is also my business. It’s OUR business.”

“Look at me, Neteyam.” You cupped his face with your hands. “This would not work if its only you fighting. We should deal with it together, side by side.”

In one fine day, you and Tsireya has finally decided to bring the Sully’s into the Cove of Ancestors, the most sacred place in awa’atlu. You have missed your parents terribly, and wanted answers and guidance from them, thus you find this as an opportunity. Perhaps your mother could give you the answers you were looking for.

Ao’nung was grumbling about it, but at least he wasn’t as mean as before. He talks with Lo’ak in a more relaxed way, as he had learned to respect Lo’ak due to the incident from before. He also formed an unlikely friendship with Kiri, the one he’s always picking on before. Although it was more of a love and hate friendship rather than a healthy friendship. It’s still a win though, for this friendship ended the constant fights between Neteyam and Ao’nung.

“Come ride with me?” You asked Neteyam as you called your ilu, smiling when he subtly touches your tail with his fingers.

“I have my own ilu, you know?” He chuckles as he makes his way towards you. Whispering, he asked. “Can’t part with me even for a second?”

Your face warmed as you looked away. “I only need a yes or no, but you already said a lot of nonsense.”

Everyone noticed the two of you dawdling about as Tuk screamed, “Hurry up guys!”

So without waiting for his answer, you rode your ilu and caught up with the others. You heard Neteyam snicker behind you as you rolled your eyes, finding it hard to believe how much influence he has on you.

Lo’ak and Tsireya had gotten much closer, that you noticed. Those touches, both intentional and unintentional, were becoming more and more apparent. It makes you wonder, were you and Neteyam like them too? Do people ever notice when Neteyam’s hand would brush against your tail, his fingers trail on your spine? His lips ghosting on your ears?

“Are you okay?” Neteyam asked you as he rode his ilu right next to you. Looking at your absentminded appearance, he’s worried his simple teasing provoked your anger. If not for Ao’nung eyeing the two of you from time to time, he might have jumped from his ilu to your, hugging you to his chest.

“I’m fine, I’m just thinking about Lo’ak and Tsireya. It seems that there’s going to be celebration of engagement soon.” You giggled to yourself before your lips stiffened when you catch a glimpse of a wistful smile from Neteyam.

“Ah, that skxawng finally bagged something for himself. A spirit brother and a beloved person.”

You smiled at Neteyam’s words, albeit hurting from the inside. You envy Tsireya who can proudly tell everyone about Lo’ak, while you can only keep Neteyam a secret like some clandestine affair. “....When the tulkuns come back, I’ll take you to meet my spirit sister. She would adore you.” Like I do.

“That would be nice, I hope she won’t toss me to an akula.” Both of you laughed as you raced together to catch up with the rest.

Diving underwater to connect with the spirit tree requires a diving partner. Almost immediately both Ao’nung and Neteyam swam towards you.

“I’m her diving partner,” Ao’nung signed to Neteyam. Before the oldest sully can answer, you waved at Ao’nung.

“I’m going to teach him how to bond with the spirit tree. Just go do your thing.”

With a doubtful gaze, Ao’nung swam away towards Roxto. Looking at his back, you exchanged glances with Neteyam which made him almost laugh out loud. You surface when you’re out of breath. I’ll be fine. You signed to Neteyam which he nodded.

You took your kuru and slowly did tsaheylu with the glowing tendrils of the spirit tree.

Your parent’s marui was the first thing you saw, followed by your parents sitting side by side as your father sharpens his spear, and your mother weaves.

Tears fell one by one, you cannot even call their name. You can not open your mouth to call them, you can only sob.

“Baby girl? What’s wrong, why are you crying?”

“Ma sa’nok! Ma sempul!”

“What’s wrong, what made you so sad?”

It's been a long time since you last saw them. You never really visit the spirit tree much, afraid to see them. Afraid of their reaction to what you had become. You're afraid they would resent you for not following your grandfather’s heart.

“I missed you,” You whispered between your sobs, hugging them tightly to convey your flooding emotions. They hugged you back with the same intensity.

“We miss you too, but tell me, baby girl, what’s on your mind? What makes you so conflicted?”

You began to relay the events to your parents, from the moment you were arranged to Aonung, to the arrival of the Sully family into awa’atlu, to the budding feelings you had with Neteyam, and your determination to end the arrangement done by your grandfather.

You expected your parents to lash out, to express their disappointment, and their protests against your relationship with Neteyam.

But what you didn't expect was a kiss on your forehead.

“Syulang, your grandfather loves you more than anything in the world. So whatever your decision will be, I’m sure he wouldn't be mad at you. Always follow your heart, no matter what.”

Your mother had tears in her eyes as she gazed at you. There's pride in their eyes as they look at you in a new light. You have now grown up and ready for the new chapter of your life.

They might not be there anymore, but they're always watching over you. Proud for your achievements, with you in your failures, and supports all your decisions wholeheartedly.

“Baby girl, life is finite. Do what your heart calls for. Eywa will bless your kind heart.”

With a gasp, you opened your eyes and saw Neteyam looking at you worriedly. Both of you quickly surfaced as you took in deep breaths.

Neteyam patted your back, concern palpable in his eyes. “Are you okay, ocean girl?”

You smiled as you turned towards him, giving him the happiest smile you could ever muster. “They support me, neteyam. They said I should do what my heart calls for.”

We can finally be together. We can finally make it official. Neteyam will officially be mine.

Neteyam laughed, relieved at your bright countenance. “Congratulations, ocean girl. You're finally getting what you are dreaming for.”

You flicked his forehead as both of you bobbed up and down in the water. “It’s also your victory as much it’s mine, forest boy.”

#neteyam x metkayina!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar the way of water #atwow #lo'ak x tsireya #jake sully #kiri #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi! reader #neteyam x y/n #neytiri #avatar james cameron #avatar 2009

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her-satanic-wiles · 4 months ago

Text

Dawn Chorus - IV

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.1k.

Reading Time: 25min.

Warnings: blood extraction, body control, corruption kink,finger sucking, forced sexual activity,gaslighting,irrelevant character death,mentions of death by sun exposure, non-consensual sexual activity,objectification, religious disillusionment, religious trauma, sexual harassment, taking advantage of innocence, use of needles,use of the word “bitch” unkindly

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @whitepawfics @dolceterzo

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

“I feel as though thou hast drained all my blood and brought me to the brink of death.” You tried to stand but your body was too weak. “For how long hath I been in slumber?”

“Five days,” the Cardinal looked back to his book, “your recovery time is getting longer. We’re going to have to start rationing if this keeps up. Or get another angel. Say, do you think we could use you as bait?”

“I pray thee choke and perish upon my blood.”

The Cardinal laughed. “If that happens,” the door to his bedroom knocked, then opened, “you’ll be stuck in that cage forever - ah! Brother López. Come in, please!”

The Brother opened the door wider and stepped inside, looking polite as he watched the Cardinal stand to greet him.

“Angel,” the Cardinal addressed you, “this is my new cleaner, Brother Santiago López.”

You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment and fear take over you. But as you spoke, you tried to keep your voice level and nonchalant, “Oh. What befell thy previous caretaker?”

“I found out he was trying to help a certain prisoner escape, and so he needed to be punished.”

“If thou has slain him, I swear by the Almighty I shall smite thee!” Your anger bubbled up far too quickly for someone who was supposed to remain nonchalant.

“Oh relax, you crazy bitch. We sent him to an abbey in America to shovel pig shit.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling your muscles relax knowing that he was okay. “For what reason?”

The Cardinal tapped Brother López on the shoulder and gestured for him to leave, which he did promptly, fearing what he was going to see. “You know why.” The Cardinal said, simply. His voice quieter than usual.

Your voice was less sharp, but still loud. “I can assure thee, I do not.”

“You mean to tell me that you weren’t trying to escape? That you and Brother Hayward weren’t attempting to break you out of that little cage to get you to freedom, hm? Come on now, Angel. I’m more than happy for my pets to have pets, but when they start rebelling against me, lines must be drawn.”

“Thou wast aware he visited here?”

He took in a long breath through his nose, so sharp his nostrils retracted with the inhale. “Could smell him Every time I came home and his scent was stronger than usual - knew he was here a while. And then when he was under the bed, his heartbeat was so loud.” The Cardinal walked over to the cage and rested his hands on the bars, leaning his whole body on it. “His fear would have tasted so good.”

You spat in his face, hearing some of your spittle sizzle against the metal bars. The Cardinal sighed, and wiped it away before hitting the side of the cage.

“The next time you pull something like that, Angel,” he began, his voice loud and so enraged, “I will personally make sure your little pet dies in front of you, and I’ll make it slow and painful. Do you understand?”

When you didn’t answer, he hit the cage again. “Understand?”

“I understand.”

He stood up to his full height and straightened his hair, then began fiddling with his clothes. “I don’t like getting angry with you, Angel. But sometimes you leave me no choice.” He turned to walk away, but stopped at the door. “Oh, and angel?” He said, his voice soft and sweet like butter wouldn’t melt. He looked at you, mismatched eyes piercing into your soul. “Brother Hayward may be in a different country, but one word from me and all 6 litres of his blood gets delivered to my fridge, and his corpse will be buried beneath abbey soil. I’ll be back.”

The threat of his return felt even more sinister with the tone of voice he used, and for the first time since this whole ordeal started, you felt the sharp pang of fear that had the small amount of blood inside you run cold. Your safety didn’t matter. You were just you. But now Thomas’ life was in jeopardy and it was entirely your fault. Memories of Brother Thomas’ kind eyes and gentle words flooded your thoughts, each one a painful reminder of the danger he now faced because of you. Guilt gnawed at your insides like a ravenous beast, twisting and clawing at your conscience until it threatened to consume you whole. You had thought yourself strong, resilient in the face of the Cardinal’s torment. But now, faced with the consequences of your actions, you felt nothing but fear and despair creeping in, threatening to engulf you entirely.

As the Cardinal’s footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving behind an oppressive silence, you couldn’t shake the weight of his threats echoing in your mind. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. For though you may be trapped in this gilded cage, your spirit remained unbroken. And as long as there was breath in your body, you would fight tooth and nail to protect those you held dear, no matter the cost.

Your own body continued to repair itself, slower than it usually would. The five days it took you to regain consciousness turned into twenty more of total healing time. The Cardinal kept a monitor of your levels based on how you smelled, which meant every day, his long, rodent nose would poke through the bars as he inhaled your scent, making sure his tavern was restocking perfectly well. He didn’t try and pry any information from you in that time, which you hated to admit that you were grateful for. But he had developed a habit of sitting and staring at you, taking joy in watching you squirm uncomfortably. He’d brought in a red, velvet armchair from the living space to do just that. Every evening, he’d waltz into his room with a glass of your blood, now tainted red from your essence, and sit and observe you, like an animal in a cage. You never said anything: always believing he wanted you to start a conversation, but you’d never let him win.

At first, the Cardinal’s constant scrutiny had been unbearable, like a stifling weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. His presence had been a constant reminder of your captivity, of just how at his mercy you truly were. But as the days stretched into weeks and the Cardinal’s routine became an unsettling rhythm in your life, something shifted within you. You found yourself growing accustomed to his gaze, almost welcoming it in a twisted sort of way. Not that you enjoyed it, by any means. Just that a routine was being established and the Cardinal became the only constant in your life. The only entertainment, too. And so, instead of shrinking away from his viewing, you began to meet his eyes head-on, a silent challenge in your gaze. You refused to cower under his oppressive stare, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You found yourself seeing him in return, studying the lines of his face, the way his eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. There was a darkness lurking behind those mismatched orbs, a darkness that chilled you to the bone. But even as you studied him, a sense of defiance burned within you. You refused to let the Cardinal break you, refused to let him strip away your dignity and humanity. You were more than just a prisoner in a cage; you were a warrior, a survivor, and you would not be defeated so easily. Heaven couldn’t get you, neither could he.

So, you met the Cardinal’s gaze with steely determination, a silent reminder that despite his best efforts, you would not be broken. And as you stared back at him, you couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lay hidden behind those calculating eyes, what darkness lurked within the depths of his soul.

The Cardinal’s entrance into the room that night was accompanied by an air of smugness so thick you could practically taste it. His smirk was evident as he sauntered in, a book tucked under one arm and a glass of your blood held casually in the other, a smile so wide, you could see his fangs underneath the skin. You watched him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what had put that self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. It was rare to see him so openly pleased with himself, and it set your nerves on edge.

As he approached your cage, he made no attempt to hide his triumphant grin, relishing in the power he held over you. He settled into the red velvet armchair with an air of satisfaction, taking a leisurely sip from the glass of blood as if it were the finest vintage wine, because, to him, it was. His eyes flicked over to you, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to let him see any hint of fear or weakness. “So, Angel,” he began, his voice dripping with arrogance, but his words slurred slightly from the drink, “I’ve been doing some reading lately. Did you know there’s a whole chapter in this book dedicated to angels like you?”

Your stomach twisted uneasily at the implications of his words, but you kept your expression carefully neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“It seems there’s quite a lot I didn’t know about your kind,” he continued, his tone laced with malice. “But don’t worry, Angel. I plan on remedying that very soon.” With a chilling smile, he opened the book in his hands, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you know this book?”

You shook your head.

“It was written by Lorenzo Giovanni during the Renaissance, the last time an angel knowingly fell to Earth. A vampyre, like me. Spent most of his days studying the angel, finding out what makes you tick - turns out, he got pretty far. Unfortunately, his work was unfinished. A mob found out what he was and got to him in 1492, tied him up and let the Sun do all the work. But, do you know what he did find?” He didn’t wait for you to shake your head this time. He cleared his throat, and began to read aloud. As he began to read, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more sinister. “‘In celestial governance, once the manner is known, it is a simple matter. The heavenly messengers utilize the dread of the Almighty to manage their subordinates. However, those angels who have questioned the supremacy of the Lord are subject to the influences of their sacred radiance, the origin of which is their halo. Thus, one who attains an angel’s halo possesses the capability to command the entity, as well as the sacred radiance enveloping it.’ This we know, correct?”

You remained silent. So, the Cardinal continued, “‘This process assumes two guises: one to govern the physical form, the other to govern the intellect. To command the physical form, one must initially acquaint themselves with the name of the angel. As is observed with infernal entities, names possess a potency beyond human comprehension. Consequently, an angel bearing a name can readily relinquish control of their physical form merely by disclosing this fragment of information. Subduing the intellect, however, presents a greater challenge.’

“Basically,” he said, closing the book shut for dramatic affect, “I know your name, your body becomes mine.” He sighed, “Giovanni then goes onto say your mind is fully intact during this process, that you’ll feel your body moving but have no control over it.” He set his glass down on the dresser and walked towards your halo in its cage.

He grasped hold of it and you notice his hand was gloved, taking note of the care he was using to touch it. Your halo was just as dangerous to him as it was to you, but for different reasons. Without your halo, you were dead. Without your halo, you were controlled. For him, his skin would burn at the touch of it, like yours did with hellfire. For him, one wrong move and he would evaporate in the holy light. There was a part of you that wanted that to happen - wanted to see him perish in one of the most painful ways you had ever known. Yet there was an overpowering guilt that ate at you when you thought about it - knowing that the Almighty wanted you to love everyone, even at the detriment to yourself.

He took a step back and looked at you, smugness oozing from every pore. “I haven’t told Sister yet,” he mumbled, sitting back down on the chair. “I wanted to find out if it worked first. Tell me your name, Angel.”

“Thou must deem me a fool to willingly disclose such information.” You retorted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth was dry.

He chuckled, a dark sound that shook you to your core. He nestled into the armchair, becoming comfortable in his throne of power. All of his movement was in his hips, lifting himself off the velvet to help him slide down it a little more, legs spread wide to exude his dominance. He was disgusting. “I thought you might say that,” he commented, his grin widening, “but you forget who I have.”

Thomas.

“You’ve experienced firsthand what I can do, Angel,” he continued, “except, I’ll make sure I’m much worse with him.”

“Thou would not.” You protested, trying to quell your panic. “The constabulary would be aware. Thou would be compelled to answer to the authorities.”

“I never said he’d survive.”

A chill ran down your spine. Your mind raced with fear and uncertainty as the Cardinal’s threat hung in the air like a dark cloud. Thomas was now in grave danger, and you were faced with an impossible choice. Would you sacrifice your own identity to save him, or would you stand firm and risk his life? You did know what the Cardinal could do - you’d been subjected to it since the moment you met him however long ago that was. You knew you could survive going through that again, especially if you had nothing to lose; but you couldn’t be sure about Thomas. He definitely didn’t deserve to feel the Cardinal’s wrath any more than he already may have. And could you live with yourself knowing you’d condemned a man to death just to save yourself, even if he did belong to the Satanic Church? By robbing him of his life, he’d never get the chance to return to God, to see the light and repent. You’d never get the chance to meet him again in Heaven. You’d rob him of his salvation, but you’d save yourself from the Cardinal’s damnation. Either way, you lost.

“If I divulge,” you began, puffing your chest to sound more confident and unafraid, “can thou ensure his well-being?”

The smugness faded from the Cardinal, if only for a moment. “Of course.” He responded, genuinely. “How else would I get you to do things I wanted?” He let the second sentence slip out, but paid it no mind once it had been released. He planned on using Thomas’ safety to continue to control you. You never should have let yourself get close to him - it allowed the Cardinal to win.

“And wilt thou demonstrate that he is unharmed? Wilt thou prove that thou speakest truthfully unto me?”

“I’ll get him to video chat you every week.”

You frowned, “I comprehend naught of thy words.”

“Video chat? FaceTime? Angels have no technology up there at all?” The Cardinal sighed at your blank expression and rummaged in his pocket to pull out the device you first saw him use. “This thing lets you have conversations with people that aren’t there with you. It shows you their face and hear their voice and, boom, conversation.”

“And thou wilt employ that contrivance to contact Tho- Brother Hayward?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “___.”

“What?”

“My name. It is ___.”

“___.” The Cardinal nodded and set down the device next to his glass. He stood and unlocked your cage, before returning to his spot on the couch. He gently maneuvered your halo into the palm of his right hand, and brought it up to his mouth. “___, I command you to exit the cage.”

You laughed. You laughed at him. He lacked conviction which was why it failed, and it was so funny to watch him fumble. He cleared his throat, and now, with more confidence, repeated his order. Your body tingled in response, and despite you fighting it with great strength, your legs moved of their own accord. Your bare foot stepped out of the cage and onto the floor, barely feeling the textures beneath your feet. Your body ducked around the metal, wings tucked tightly to your body to stop any part of you from getting injured. Even under control, your body still did what it could to preserve itself. This was a new sensation to you, as you’d never been under someone else’s control before - you’d never needed to be because you were always a good soldier, even when you had your doubts. You’d never known anyone be subjected to this, either. Within seconds, you were out of the cage, standing in front of it with your wings outstretched. He hadn’t ordered you to stay still, to wait for the next instruction. But you did anyway, fearing that defiance would bring a painful end to Brother Thomas.

“___, I command you to spin on the spot.” The Cardinal ordered, a mischievous smile on his face and a glint in his eye.

When you did as he commanded, he laughed. It was a guttural laugh, hearty and jovial, clearly he was having fun with this. “Like a game of Capitan Giro. Capitan Giro dice stand on one leg.”

You did as commanded, and the Cardinal screamed in delight.

“Wait, I don’t need your name? I don’t need to be so formal? What if… put both feet to the floor.”

You did as commanded.

“Incredible. I wonder what else I could get you to do. How else I could humiliate you…” He stopped and thought for a moment, eyes darkening. “Come here.” This command was lower and deeper than the previous ones, quieter and somehow more intimate.

You fought against this command, but to no avail. Your feet, slowly, dragged you towards the Cardinal and only stopping when you were right in front of him, between his open legs. “On your knees.”

You obeyed. The whole time you made eye contact with him, staring daggers into his face and still hoping that the halo hurt him.

He held out his left hand, the one not holding the halo, and said, “Remove the glove.”

Your hands immediately sprung into action, grasping onto the hem of the leather and peeling it gently off of his hand, exposing the skin beneath.

“You know,” he grumbled as you pulled the final finger of his glove off him, “the Sister told me about you.”

He moved his hand to your face and tried to caress your cheek, but you moved away. “Come back, don’t fight me.” Slowly, you moved back to your original position, feeling your cheek meet his fingertips. His hand was large, taking up most of your face as he stroked it with such gentility, you weren’t entirely sure that this was the same man who had caused you great pain for so long. His thumb sat beside your nose, and gently stroked your skin.

“She told me about your purity,” he continued. “How you’re still the good angel Yhwh intended.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Open your mouth.”

You did. You opened it a small amount, but it was enough for him. He slotted his thumb inside and rubbed the pad over your tongue, as if he was studying your mouth. His knuckle, briefly, hit the tip of your small fangs - not enough to hurt him, but enough to have him fascinated by them.

“Suck on my finger.”

Your mouth closed around the digit in your mouth, lips stretching just a little over his skin, and you heard the Cardinal exhale a shaky breath. He watched the obscenity in front of him, how your cheeks hollowed around his thumb that he slowly began to move in and out of your mouth. His cheeks were flushed, partially because of your blood, but also because his own was rushing around his body, still pumping life into it despite his insides being almost dead. His pupils were blown, and his eyes were hooded, making him look a little crazy. His lips parted, and his breaths were laboured, chest rising and falling as though his lungs still worked - a force of habit, you thought.

You didn’t understand this - what he was doing. You’d never seen anyone do this before, but your mind was racing with possibilities. Perhaps he was testing your mouth, making sure your health was good. Or maybe it was some strange form of comfort for him, you pondered. Perhaps he found solace in this bizarre act, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of his life. As his thumb moved in and out of your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease mingled with curiosity.

You should bite down.

You couldn’t. Not that you weren’t trying, but you were under the influence of the halo. You just couldn’t get your teeth to clench around his thumb.

Despite your confusion, you continued to suck on his finger obediently, just as the Cardinal had ordered. You focused on the rhythm of his movements, trying to make sense of the strange sensation in your mouth.

“Cazzo.” He let out a whisper, barely audible but because of the quiet of the room, the humming of technology barely covered the sound.

As time passed, it couldn’t have been more than a minute, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that gnawed at you. Yet, you dared not speak up, afraid to disrupt the fragile peace that enveloped the room. So you remained silent, your mind still racing with unanswered questions, as you obediently continued to suck on his finger.

Suddenly, the Cardinal’s eyes widened, a look of shock appearing on his face. He yanked his thumb from your mouth and physically pushed you away, grasping onto the halo a little tighter than he should have. “B-back in the cage.” He said quickly, standing up and walking over to your halo’s cage.

He didn’t need to use the halo to order you back behind bars, you were already scrambling to your feet and rushing to fit yourself in through the bars. He refused to make eye contact with you, noticing that he was feeling shame. Shame for what, you couldn’t say, but he spent most of the time staring at the floor as he locked you back inside. Your eyes wandered, too. From his face, over his body, until you saw the tent in his crotch every time he stood side-on. You weren’t completely foolish, you knew what that meant. You’d spent enough time with mortals, and saw a varying degree of sin that they would commit regularly. But you still couldn’t piece together the correlation between his finger in your mouth and the reason for his body’s reaction. He didn’t say a word, instead grabbing the glass and all but running out the door.

Perhaps you were feeling some of his shame now that you knew he’d used you to sin. He’d sinned with you before, every single time he caused you pain was sin enough, but this felt different somehow. Before, it was all the sins that were done to you; because of your implicitness due to the halo’s control, it felt like he was sinning with you. Shame, anger, and a deep sense of discomfort gnawed at your insides, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.

You had been subjected to a degrading and humiliating act, one that left you feeling powerless and violated. The Cardinal’s actions had stripped away your dignity and autonomy, reducing you to nothing more than a mere object for his pleasures.

Anger simmered within you, fueled by the injustice of being treated in such a deplorable manner. You resented the Cardinal for his blatant disregard for your dignity and for his abuse of power. How dare he manipulate and exploit you for his own perverse desires?

The deep sense of discomfort stemmed from the violation of your boundaries and the invasion of your personal space. His unwelcome advances had left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your very essence had been laid bare for his scrutiny.

But then, the feeling dawned on you, was this not a similar way the Almighty had treated you? How He would get His subordinates to send you down to the mortal realm and commit atrocities on His behalf. In Egypt and Canaan, and even the shores of Italia, in His name you enacted awful things, bore witness to tragedies no person should ever see. While the Cardinal used you for some kind of sexual gratification, the Almighty used you for egotistical gratification, and either way, you were a pawn in someone else’s game, an object to be used at will regardless of your own opinions. You could never condone or justify the Cardinal’s behaviour towards you, but you’d also never had autonomy over your own person, so was it any different?

In some weird twist, you had come to realise that despite being trapped in a cage, your mind was freer than it ever had been in Heaven, your thoughts were your own, and your feelings went more-or-less unpunished. And in comparison, who was truly the Devil? Lucifer, or the Almighty?

The Cardinal didn’t come to visit you the next day, or the day after that, or the subsequent week that followed. He wouldn’t even come back to his chambers to rest, opting to spend his time elsewhere and avoiding you - an easy task, you were sure, given that he had kept you in the cage the whole time. You were unsure how to feel about this, whether this was something you should be grateful for, or if you should be afraid.

The longer you were around the vampyres, the more you’d begun to understand them and their ways; their thoughts and feelings, and what made them tick. Given that you’d not seen the Sister in so long, you could assume that the Cardinal hadn’t told her about his discovery. If he had, she’d have charged into his chambers, gripped hold of your halo, and practiced on you herself. Her insatiable thirst for power and control outweighed her thirst for your blood, and thus, if she knew your secret, you’d know too.

But then, why had the Cardinal kept that secret? Both he and the Sister wanted power, specifically power over you. They had been working together from the start to make sure they got what they wanted, your health and safety be damned. So why hadn’t the Cardinal told her everything? You pondered these questions in the silence of your cage, the only company being the dim glow of your halo, a sense of unease washing over you in more ways than one.

By the time you had healed completely, the Cardinal had returned with the empty bottles, but still found it difficult to look you in the eye. His gaze flickered with a mixture of guilt and apprehension, a silent acknowledgment of the unspeakable acts he had committed in his pursuit of power… or pleasure?

You watched him closely, noting the tension in his movements and the weariness etched into his features. Despite the disguise of indifference he attempted to show, you could sense the conflict raging within him, a storm of inconsistent emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He’d not rested well enough - you wondered if he’d even eaten properly. Then you wondered why you cared.

As he went about his task of arranging empty buckets around his bed, you remained silent, studying his every move with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Why buckets, this time? There was an obvious shift in the air, a tension that hung between you, heavily shrouding you both an an intense suffocation.

With each passing moment, the weight of his silence grew heavier, a burden that bore down upon you with unbearable force. You longed to break the oppressive stillness, to confront him with the questions that burned in the depths of your soul, but you held your tongue, wary of the consequences of speaking out.

In the end, it was the Cardinal who broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he addressed you. “I won’t bind you when I let you out… I’m trusting you to be on your best behaviour.”

You simply nodded in response.

“No funny business, no trying to escape… no attacking, got it?”

“I shall not undertake such actions today,” you told him, “yet I offer no assurances for the morrow.”

He laughed as though you were telling him a joke. His laughter echoed through the chamber, a hollow sound that reverberated off the walls. Despite the tension that lingered between you, there was a sense of relief in his amusement, a fleeting moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere that surrounded you. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing,” he replied, his tone lightening slightly. “Just remember, Angel, I’m not afraid to put you back in that cage if you step out of line.”

You met his gaze with a steady stare, your eyes alight with a quiet defiance. “I understand,” you said, your voice firm and unwavering. “But mark this, Cardinal - I shall not be imprisoned anew, not without resistance.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of recognition that mirrored the fire that burned within your own soul. In that moment, you saw a glimmer of respect in his gaze, a grudging acknowledgment of your strength and determination.

“Very well,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He moved towards your cage, unlocked and opened the door, and took a step back, still holding it as though he were a gentleman holding the door for his wife. With apprehension, you climbed out, wings cocooning your body again until you were completely free of the metal. You chanced a glance at your halo, which was still locked up tight in the cage, and somehow you felt relieved. You stretched your entire body out, wings included, grateful for the feeling. All the while, you still watched the Cardinal potter around the room until he invited you onto his bed again.

You hesitated until you saw the plea in his eyes. “What dost thou withhold from me, Cardinal?”

He shook his head, “If you don’t let me drain you now, things will end up worse for us both. Just do as I ask this one time, please.”

You regarded him with a mix of wariness and resignation, knowing that you had little choice but to comply with his request. With a heavy sigh, you moved towards the bed, your movements slow and deliberate as you approached him.

As you settled onto the plush mattress, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a heavy cloak. The Cardinal’s intentions were clear, his desire for your blood palpable in the air, and yet you found yourself unable to resist his command. You felt the first needle prick into the crook of your arm, and watched as your blood began to pour into the bucket. Then you saw him prick the second needle in, and the cycle repeat. Usually, the Cardinal would stand back and watch menacingly. But this time, he gently crawled onto the bed, lifted you up, and slotted you on top of him, so you were using his body as a pillow instead.

As the Cardinal cradled you in his arms, using his body as a makeshift pillow, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of discomfort wash over you. The intimacy of the gesture was unsettling, a stark contrast to the usual brutality of your interactions with him.

With each drop of blood that left your body, you felt a sense of vulnerability creep in, the realization dawning on you that you were completely at his mercy. Despite your instinctive urge to resist, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to pull away, trapped in a state of submission that left you feeling powerless and exposed.

You passed out, despite your body fighting it.

You were barely conscious when you woke, the needles still in your arms and the Cardinal still behind you. This time, you could feel his hands running up and down your biceps and stroking your hair, as if he was trying to comfort you. You wanted to recoil from his touch, to push him away and reclaim the boundaries he had violated so mercilessly more than once. And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of his embrace, the fleeting sense of connection that offered a brief respite from the cold reality of your captivity.

Your body lost consciousness again, the last thing you felt were his fingertips tracing light patterns into your skin.

You roused from your uneasy slumber, disoriented and groggy, the memory of the Cardinal’s touch haunting your exposed flesh. As your senses slowly returned, you realized that the needles were no longer piercing your skin, their absence bringing a faint sense of relief amidst the lingering discomfort.

You looked around the room, heart heavy, seeking any sign of the Cardinal’s whereabouts, but all you saw was the empty space of his bed and the stifling silence that enveloped the room like a blanket. Feelings of fear and panic started to seethe at the borders of your mind as you struggled with the disconcerting realisation that you were alone in the room, and not trapped up in your cage where you’d normally be after such an extraction.

You strained to get yourself upright, your muscles protesting with each movement as you forced yourself to look around more closely. However, no matter how hard you looked, there was no sign of the Cardinal, no clue of where he had gone or what he was plotting next.

The sound of voices coming from the living room sent shivers down your spine, breaking the strange calm that had encased the Cardinal’s quarters. You strained your ears, nervously attempting to figure out who was talking and who was there.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened closely, the murmur of voices becoming louder and clearer with each passing instant. Their tones conveyed a sense of urgency, a palpable tension that appeared to linger in the air like a building storm.

For a tiny moment, you cherished the hope that Brother Thomas would return to liberate you from your captivity and deliver you from the Cardinal’s tyranny. But deep down, you understood that such dreams were nothing more than desperate illusions created out of your own sorrow.

One of the voices belonged to the Cardinal… the other… the Sister.

You strained to catch every word of the furious discussion between the Sister and the Cardinal, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony of wrath and frustration. From your position in the bedroom, you could feel the tension crackling in the air like electricity, heavy and stifling.

The words they exchanged formed a bleak picture, indicating a flaw in their carefully crafted relationship. It became clear that the Cardinal had acted with purposeful intent by draining you of your blood before the full moon night, undermining their plans to perform the second ritual.

Confusion blurred your mind as you tried to make sense of the Cardinal’s strange choice to sabotage the ceremony. It didn’t make sense; why would he go to such extent to foil plans that he had personally set up? You felt lost and confused, as if the puzzle pieces would not fit together in your brain.

You couldn’t shake the notion that the Cardinal’s acts were more than just what they appeared to be. His intentions remained a mystery, and you couldn’t help but wonder what underlying agenda drove his betrayal. Was he behaving in his own self-interest, or was he motivated by something else that you couldn’t figure out? Or was there a deeper, more nefarious motive at work?

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