#buildings are still very difficult for me but i like how it turned out :^)
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6 string
pairing: joel miller x reader
description: in which, joel teaches you how to play a song on the guitar.
tags: fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, contractor!joel makes a brief appearance, no outbreak au, age gap, r has hair long enough to twirl but thats it for appearances, so so sweet, some singing, joel makes a dirty joke (i couldn't help myself) hozier mentioned!! and played... by a certain someone, and riptide as the song r learns, one mention of a dead parent.
a/n: my second joel teaching reader fic, this is very telling... also! should this be more frequent? my requests are open if you have any suggestions? i'm self taught when it comes to guitar, where tf was joel miller to teach me...
wc: 1.6k
“could you teach me?”
joel's head doesn’t lift up from his plans, long blue scrolls stretched across the table. “teach you what, baby?” he murmurs absentmindedly.
“a song. on your guitar,” you answer, voice small.
he looks at you now, his expression mildly shocked. you seem to have garnered his full attention, though it wasn't difficult when it came to you, he let go of the corner of paper that he had pinned to the hard surface.
“i've been tryin’ to get you to play for months now,” he replies, not irritated but curious. “why the change of heart?”
“oh, i don't know. i just think it’d be nice to have a skill that i can credit to you.” you know the justification isn’t necessary and you know he knows that. he’ll do it regardless, anything for his girl.
a wry smile plays on his lips. “i’ve taught you plenty’a skills,” he says, not oblivious to the innuendo that clung to his statement.
you huff out a chuckle, “not like that, silly.”
you watch him walk over to you. his hands plant themselves on your shoulders, thumbs caressing lightly in the divots of your collarbones before turning you around.
“let's go.”
“what? now?” you ask, although you don't stop him as he gently pushes you to the living room as he follows with his hands still on you.
“got other plans?” he sits you down on the couch, moving across the room to grab the instrument.
“no,” you respond, smiling when he sits to your right. he's angled slightly so you can see his hands. it's how you're usually positioned when he plays you stuff so he can watch you but this time it's more for your benefit.
“d’ya have a song in mind?”
you hum in thought, trying to recall songs he's played. they all seem difficult. “something easy?” you suggest.
“‘s a little cliche but a good beginner song,” he says as he starts to play.
recognition dawns on you, he's playing riptide. he quietly hums, a low timbre to the verse. you want to melt.
“i love it when you play,” you murmur, dropping your head to his shoulder.
“i love playin’ for you, sweetheart,” he replies, letting a chord fade out and handing you the guitar with a soft “c’mon.”
the instrument feels big in your arms as you rest your elbow over the base of it. it's not that you forget how much bigger joel is to you but in this instance it becomes painfully obvious. he guides your other hand to the neck, curling it around the wood.
“okay, so riptide consists of three chords. a minor, g and c and it's the same strummin’ pattern all the way through,” he explains, moving your fingers to the first chord shape.
he places your fingers over different fret boards and you try to remember each one as he moves on to the next. you give an experimental strum to one chord and sounds with an unpleasant pitchy buzz. your face screws up and he chuckles lightly.
“you have to press hard enough so you get a clear tone, but not too much, just enough that it's firm against the fret,” he says, covering your hand with his own and pushing down.
“ow,” you gripe as the strings dig into your fingertips.
“sorry, baby. s’gonna hurt like hell for now, need to build up your calluses for it to not.”
“it's fine,” you reply, partially distracted by how his calloused fingertips rub against the back of your hand, trailing down to allow you to try again.
you do, pressing a little harder, ignoring the pain. when you strum again it comes out a bit clearer, still buzzy, but better than before.
you spend the next 30 minutes trying to switch chords, a feat more difficult than you thought it would be. you almost rage quit five times but joel's soothing encouragement urges you to keep trying.
“how do you do this so easily?” you whine, leaning back on him. he's sitting a little behind you now, as you've moved to the edge of the couch.
“playing for 20 years helps,” he says with a little shrug, rubbing your arm.
“careful, mister. you're showing your age,” you warn teasingly and he chuckles, that same warm one that you love so much.
“good to try some stummin’ now?”
“mhm,” you sit straight again.
he crowds in behind you, arm coming to rest above your right one. he has a gentle grasp on your wrist and your palm as he directs your movements along the strings; down, down, up down up, he murmurs quietly in your ear, moving your hand accordingly.
you get the hang of it, you think. stumbling here and there when you do a down instead of an up, or the opposite. he watches as you intently strum, his fingers keeping the strings muted by touching them lightly. your hand, not on the neck anymore, rests on his thigh.
“keep going,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder. “you’re doin’ good.”
he lifts his fingers off the strings, and they start to resonate with uneven tones. but then a very distinct note rings out and you realise he's started to play the chords while you strum. it sounds good. you look at him and smile, and he shoots you an equally bright grin, crows feet deepening proudly.
“there we go,” he spurs as your strumming stays perfectly consistent. you hum the melody as he effortlessly switches chords, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he does so. “wanna try doin’ both at the same time?”
you stop, your wrist growing a little tired. “tomorrow.”
“okay, sweet girl.” he takes the guitar out of your arms and leans it against the couch.
he instinctively wraps around you when you curl into his side, scooting further back into the couch. his fingers play with the hair at the nape of your neck, it makes you squirm because it tickles and he laughs. the same low and warm one again, his chest vibrates with the sound as you press your ear to it. you can hear his heart beat in steady thumps. he leans his head against yours, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the space between you. his free hand settles on your leg, his thumb lazily tracing small, aimless patterns.
“can't believe i've never asked this,” you ask, suddenly curious. “how did you learn how to play?”
he tenses ever so slightly before easing again.
“y’know my dad died when i was young, right?”
“yeah,” you confirm, lifting your head so you can see his face.
“well, he used to play all the time and after he passed my mom let me have his guitar,” he explains, twirling a strand of your hair with his fingers. he stares absentmindedly at your shoulder, but his gaze is solemn leaving you no reason to worry.
“took me ‘bout a year to pick the damn thing up ‘cause everytime i did it reminded me of him but when i finally did, i spent days on end teachin’ myself. didn't want a teacher or nothin’. if anythin', i wanted him to teach me but i never took up his offer when he was alive.”
“sweet,” you whisper, bottom lip jutting out sadly.
“you’re sweet,” he counters, tapping your nose with his finger. it wrinkles up at the contact and you pull away to reach for his guitar. you hand it to him, perking up in anticipation.
“play me ‘like real people do’?” you request, knowing smile on your lips.
only you could get mumblin’ grumblin’ joel miller to learn a hozier song. it took a bit of convincing, to which he would reply with begrudging grunts like it was the worst thing in the word. but he learned it surprisingly fast, playing it out of nowhere later that night.
“‘f you sing, then yeah.”
you nod and he shakes his head fondly as he begins to play. you’re not a singer by any means but you could keep a tune.
“i had a thought, dear, however scary about that night, the bugs and the dirt,” you begin softly, nodding along to the beat.
“why were you digging? what did you bury before those hands pulled me from the earth?”
his fingers effortlessly plucks the right strings without looking, his eyes fixed on you with a reverence that makes you nervous. must be muscle memory, you wonder how long it’ll take you to get that good.
“i will not ask you where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you.”
your head tilts to the side, smiling. you bring a hand up to his jaw, scratching his beard lightly in a way you know he likes. you lean closer for the next words.
“honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do.”
so naturally, you kiss him, giggling as you do so. he nips at your bottom lip when he falters, you–the distraction–to blame.
it goes sweetly and quietly like that. you lean against his shoulder for the rest of the song, humming the melody. he doesn't mind, he just likes the sound of your voice, be it behind closed lips or not.
when the song ends, he freestyles a bit, you don’t know what he’s playing but it sounds nice. everything sounds nice, and smells nice and feels nice, you could probably die here and you’d be happy, so long as you could take joel with you.
“play more tomorrow?” he asks, still plucking away.
“yup,” you chirp, inadvertently agreeing to more frequent lessons by him. even though he doesn’t suggest it, it’s implied in your own secret little way, and how could you say no to an offer like that.
reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list
#joel miller#the last of us#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fluff#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller smut#fluff#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal
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Happy pride everyone :D
#sso oc pride 2024#sso oc#sso#ssoblr#star stable#my art#buildings are still very difficult for me but i like how it turned out :^)#ft. fortune for once! haven't drawn the big fella in a while#no saddle. did not want to draw one :')
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[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]
@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.
This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.
The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.
I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.
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WHO'S GONNA FUCK YOU LIKE ME ♡
KUROO, BOKUTO, OIKAWA when you told them you wanna break up and they make you regret it
{mdni! 18+} deep penetration, overstimulation, dacryphilia, edging, slight orgsm denial, creampie, breeding kink
KUROO TETSUROU
Your face is buried into the pillow while your body shakes, about to reach the peak of pleasure until he draws his cock out of you.
“Mhmm…” you whine in complain as you rub your ass desperately against his cock.
Tetsurou leans down with his body pressing against your back. He cups your face, squeezing your cheeks a little forcefully, and whispers against your ear with a hint of annoyance, “I thought you don’t want me anymore.”
“Noo…No! Please…” you plead in the verge if tears. The ache of wanting to be penetrated by him is too difficult to bear. “Tetsu, please…”
“Didn’t you just say you wanna break up, huh?” The tip of his cock starts teasing you torturously as he rubs it against the lips of your pussy. “Too bad, the only thing that will break tonight…is you—”
Your eyes cross when he sharply shoves his steel hard cock with full force. It blazes so rough that it has you cumming and writhing beneath him. But Tetsurou is relentless. He fucks you so violently deep from behind, making his point clear by drilling into your pussy and into your head why you should never ever think of breaking up ever again.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart?”
“You…I want you!” Your head spins with the overwhelming pleasure. The orgasm comes rushing in over and over again.
He’s breaking you apart, railing you hard, making you regret spouting off that childish threat just because you are arguing over something so petty.
“Louder, Y/N! Say it louder!” he demands in a grunt, taking your wrists and using them as lever. Your bodies collide hard against each other, skins slapping and turning red.
“Tetsu! I want you, Tetsu!” you cry as tears of immense pleasure trickle down your cheeks. “Only you…ahhh!” You’re pathetic so pathetic to even think of breaking up with this man when you can’t even imagine a life without him, his cock, his touch, his love, his very being.
“Ugh- I’m coming hnggh-“ Tetsurou grunts as your bodies fell onto the bed. He laces your fingers with his so tightly and tenderly squeezes your hand while he spills all of him inside you.
He protectively cages you in his arms and hides his face in the nook of your neck. His embrace demonstrates how he refuses to let you go.
“Now, don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay?” he says before planting a soft kiss on your temple.
BOKUTO KOUTARO
“Hey, is this not enough? Am I not lovin’ you enough?” he asks while his fingers inside your pussy are doing all the work. “Are you really gonna break up with me?”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t- I didn’t mean— aaaah…” you moan, your back arching as he hooks his fingers and pumps even stronger.
“Maybe…this will change your mind…”
You pant when he removes his fingers only to be replaced by his huge cock. Your eyes widen as you take in his size. Up until now, your walls stretch to make him fit. His monstrous dick is enough to send you into a little orgasm.
You lightly shake as he begins moving his hips. You could feel your pussy stretch each and everytime he thrusts.
Your moans unstoppable and it encourages him to dig even deeper into you. “Baby, baby, can you feel it now, baby? Would you still leave me?”
“I won’t I! Ahhh haah…” You can’t even find the strength in yourself to respond.
“Y/N, baby!” He pushes your thighs down and puts himself in a squatting position.
“Ahhh haaah…Bokkun! Bokkun!”
He’s now plunging so deep into your womb your mouth opens wide at the blazing sensation building at the pit of your stomach.
“Are you still- ugh- gonna break up with me?”
“No! No! I can’t haah I can’t!” How can you when he’s rearranging your guts so rabidly your insides are taking the shape of his huge cock. Your pussy now knows him and only him alone you’re getting crazy with your mind thinking just him and how you don’t like him to stop fucking you like this.
“Fuck- I’m coming, baby! I’m comingh–“
You wrap your arms around him and seal your orgasms with a kiss. You felt his dick milk spill into you, warming up your tummy you’ll probably get pregnant with this. Your bodies relax around each other as you come down from your high.
“Are you…are you alright?” He tilts his head up to look at you. His eyes get a little teary. “Sorry, I got carried away. I really thought you’re gonna leave me.”
“No, I’m not, Bokkun. I won’t leave you,” you say, carressing the side of his face. “I have to say sorry too. I didn’t really mean what I said.”
He sniffs a little. “Does it hurt somewhere?”
You place a hand over your tummy. “No, but it was too deep we might end up having a baby.”
His eyes sparkle, renewing his spirit. “You mean we…We can have a baby? T-Then we can try again to make sure!”
“B-Bokkun!” you call but he’s already slipping a finger in your pussy checking if you’re well-lubricated to accept him. He gets hard again after finding out that your pussy is still stuffed with his cum.
“No more talks of breaking up, Y/N. Let’s make a baby instead.” And you both moan as he slips the tip right in and sinks so comfortably in you, gradually pushing his entire length in. His vigor is replenished with a new agenda in mind.
OIKAWA TOORU
“You seem to be taking my cock so well for someone who wants to break up,” Tooru says while you ride him so good your body slams against his everytime you take the entirety of him deep.
“Tooru! Tooru!” you moan and moan as he watches you with clenched jaw. You just don’t know how he wants to dick you so good you’ll your mind, but you have been quite a bad girl and he’s pouting a little. Now, he wants to remind you how much love him and his cock that breaking up with him is a
“You want…you want it don’t you?” he teases, holding himself back with the best if his ability, not moving his hips and letting take the rein yourself.
“Yes! Yes, please! Baby…” you beg as you place both hands atop his chest and slam your oussy hard against his cock. Oh, you wanna cum you wanna cum so desperately around him by his huge fat cock. “Please, Tooru, please.”
“That’s right…that’s right,” he hisses through his teeth. “Beg me s’more. Grovel, beg me some more.”
“Please, please, please, please,” you plead with every slap of your cunt against him. “I- I won’t! I… never…I won’t break up with you.” Your walls clamp him down in one final despair and that’s all it will take to lose his cool.
“Good girl.” His voice is rough and almost constrained. His hands smooth over your ass, massaging you teasingly. “Now, I’ll make sure you won’t forget about it.” He grabs the cheeks so tight and starts jerking upwards his member relentlessly hitting your cervix.
Your teeth grit against each other as you feel your head going numb. It is too pleasurable that it aches a bit, regardless you just keep in wanting and wanting more of it still.
Feeling his own orgasm rushing in, Tooru wraps his arms around you with unyielding strength. One of his hands cups the back of your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
He bends his knees with the balls of his feet flat on the bed, pushing his hips up as he rails you ferociously. Your lips quiver with tears brimming your eyes, making you whimper. The pleasure overcomes you and his cock grazes your walls with stinging heat. You’re losing your mind. It's drawing a blank. Vision blacking out as tour temples go numb yet your pussy feels the sore satisfaction.
“Aaah! Tooru! Tooru, baby… I! I!” The tremors over power your drool dribble down your chin as you moan. You came with pleasure washing over you, your body almost flailing it’s a relief he has you in a tight grip.
He chases his own release doubling his speed which sends you to another orgasm that has you both moaning and screaming each other’s names.
You shift your head to rest on his chest. Gently, he brushes the back of your head while both summer down.
“Babe…Tooru…” you mumble.
“Hmmm?”
“Do you still believe that I can leave you?”
You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. “Not really. After all, you might not even walk straight tomorrow.”
@pixelcafe-network
#kuroo smut#bokuto smut#oikawa smut#kuroo x reader#oikawa x reader#bokuto x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#hq smut#hq x reader#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu oikawa#haikyuu bokuto#kuroo scenarios#oikawa scenarios#bokuto scenarios
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dating him | bang chan
❝ have i told you how beautiful you look this morning? ❞
CHAN | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin
chan as ur bf wow congratulations
it’s giving strangers to lovers if i’m being fr
u just meet on a random tuesday like nothing out of the ordinary
conversation is made and for SOME reason, chan always feels the cogs in his head stop turning when he’s talking to u
like it feels like he’s constantly on the run all the time so how come with u it’s so different
what did u do to him
well wtvr long story short, he FELL
fell hard
now he’s ur bf
ok hear me out
perk #1: unlimited supply of his hoodies
he’d love it too .. when u wear his hoodie
doesn’t even try to act upset or bothered that u’re stealing his clothes
sometimes he’s the one to even put it on ur bed so u can wear it after u shower
or when u’re coming home from the dorm and when u open ur bag .. oh! his hoodie!
“ah, i must’ve misplaced it 😅😅😅”
yeaaaaaaaaah sure
sure u misplace the hoodie in ur very pink bag instead of his black bag
u’re not very slick christopher bang
u don’t mind tho
his hoodies are always xxxxl in size and it smells like him
perk #2: u have ur own man wife
that man knows how to do everything
he can fix ur sink, build u a table, put oil on ur doorknobs so they don’t harden, can clean, like what can’t he do
have u seen hometown cha cha cha? he’s giving very Chief Hong in his skills
(minho does too but we’ll talk about him in his post)
oh, did i mention he can cook too
one of his favorite little mini dates is when u just go thru cookbooks together
and then … cook
i’m sorry this man is a sucker for domestic things like this
and cooking together means u also grocery shop together
a fun challenge he made up is where u pick up random ingredients and try to make something decent out of it
maaaaaan he’s just giving husband
anyways back to cooking
imagine him in the kitchen right
and he’s tasting something new he made
ofc u’re curious too cos wow whatever the hell he’s making smells and looks good
when you try to ask him if you can taste it, he’d KISS you
“how do you like it? 😏😏😏”
😳😳😳😳
he’s getting bold
he does strike me as shy at first in relationships
and then when u’re together for long, u’re like damn this man kinda freaky
perk #3: his dog
berry loves u
like sometimes even more than chan
(it’s bc u give her extra treats when u can)
u walk his dog together early in the morning
it’s kind of become routine
u’d just get out of bed with messy hair and still in ur pajamas while chan is perfectly ready bc he loves waking up early when he can
u don’t even care that u look like a mess
bc chan always reminds u how beautiful u are every morning
so … messy hair and pajamas … putting the leash on berry and walking outside
it’d just be quiet mostly on the walk
there’s no need for conversation with chan sometimes
chan would say he finally knows what peace means after meeting u
his favorite scene ever is coming home and finding u asleep on the couch with berry
he has a million pictures of that on ur phone
like different days, same scene
sets it as his lockscreen even
on nights u can spend together, u enjoy watching cringy christmas movies w him
cue recreating the scenes
except it’s a massive failure bc both of u just can’t stop laughing
u especially love those christmas movies one
“I DONT HAVE A TWIN WE CANT RECREATE THE PRINCESS SWITCH”
u end up just falling asleep together
ofc not without cuddling and intimate kisses
chan finds he sleeps easier bc of u
he used to always find it so difficult to fall asleep before
so how come it’s as easy as closing his eyes now
btw u two most probably have promise rings
and he most probably wears it as a necklace
and he loves hugging u from behind
chan loves being able to nuzzle his cheek on ur back and hold u
he’d probably do that thing where u’re unaware and then BAM a pair of arms around ur waist
his chin on ur shoulder
oh Wow….. wow i just made myself crazy thinking about that
he’d lean in to kiss ur neck or ur chin bc it’s closest access
and he’d just look at whatever the hell u’re doing
chan loves looking at u
does that sound creepy
he just loves observing u ok !!!!!!
esp when u’re doing something u love
his heart goes 💗💞💕💕💝💘💖💞💓💓
bc that’s his baby
he just adores u tbh
u could just be standing there and chan’s looking at u with heart eyes
anyways whatever CONGRATULATIONS
u guys will probably last forever bc he’s whipped and so in love
he’s giving me the More In Love vibe
like when he falls, he FALLS
happy 4 u
note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy
#k-labels#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#chan x reader#bang chan x reader#chan x y/n#chan x you#skz x reader#skz x you#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan fluff#chan fluff#bang chan fic#stray kids drabbles#stray kids blurbs#chan drabble#stray kids chan drabbles#stray kids chan blurbs#kpop fluff#kpop imagines#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#kpop scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#chan scenarios#chan headcanons#bang chan headcanons
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It's interesting (if often frustrating) to see the renewed Orc Discourse after the last few episodes of ROP. I've seen arguments that orcs have to be personifications of evil rather than people as such or else the ethics of our heroes' approach to them becomes much more fraught. Tolkien's work, as written, seems an odd choice to me for not wrangling with difficult questions, and of course, more diehard fans are going to immediately bring up Shagrat and Gorbag.
If you haven't read LOTR recently, Shagrat and Gorbag are two orcs who briefly have a conversation about how they're being screwed over by Sauron but have no other real options, about their opinions of mistakes that have been made, that they think Sauron himself has made one, but it's not safe to discuss because Sauron has spies in their own ranks. They reminisce about better times when they had more freedom and fantasize about a future when they can go elsewhere and set up a small-scale banditry operation rather than being involved in this huge-scale war. Eventually, however, they end up turning on each other.
Basically any time that someone brings up the "humanity" of this conversation, someone else will point out that they're still bad people. They're not at all guilty about what they're part of. They just resent the dangers to themselves, the pressure from above, failures of competence, the surveillance they're under, and their lack of realistic alternative options. The dream of another life mentioned in the conversation is still one of preying on innocent people, just on a much smaller and more immediate scale, etc.
I think this misses the reason it keeps getting brought up, though. The point is not that Shagrat and Gorbag are good people. The point is that they are people.
There's something very normal and recognizable about their resentment of their superiors, their fears of reprisal and betrayal that ultimately are realized, their dislike of this kind of industrial war machine that erases their individual work and contributions, the tinge of wistfulness in their hope of escape into a different kind of life. Their dialect is deliberately "common"—and there's a lot more to say about that and the fact that it's another commoner, Sam, who outwits them—but one of the main effects is to make them sound familiar and ordinary. And it's interesting that one of the points they specifically raise is that they're not going to get better treatment from "the good guys" so they can't defect, either.
This is self-interested, yes, but it's not the self-interest of some mystical being or spirit or whatnot, but of people.
Tolkien's later remarks tend to back this up. He said that female orcs do exist, but are rarely seen in the story because the characters only interact with the all-male warrior class of orcs. Whatever female orcs "do," it isn't going to war. Maybe they do a lot of the agricultural work that is apparently happening in distant parts of Mordor, maybe they are chiefly responsible for young orcs, maybe both and/or something else, we don't know. But we know they're out there and we know that they reproduce sexually and we know that they're not part of the orcish warrior class.
Regardless of all the problems with this, the idea that orcs have a gender-restricted warrior class at all and we're just not seeing any of their other classes because of where the story is set doesn't sound like automatons of evil. It sounds like an actual culture of people that we only see along the fringes.
And this whole matter of "but if they're people, we have to think about ethics, so they can't be people" is a weird circular argument that cannot account for what's in LOTR or for much of what Tolkien said afterwards. Yes, he struggled with The Problem of Orcs and how to reconcile it with his world building and his ethical system, but "maybe they're not people" is ultimately not a workable solution as far as LOTR goes and can't even account for much of the later evolution of his ideas, including explicit statements in his letters.
And in the end, the real response that comes to mind to that circular argument is "maybe you should think about ethics more."
#i had a whole 'nother tangent that i split off into a separate draft#but i've been thinking about why the 'but shagrat and gorbag are still BAD people' thing seems so inane and missing the point#but yeah. i feel like people desperately want to find some justification in tolkien (and elsewhere) for the idea#that doing something wrong to a person will become doing something right if you can find someone who 'deserves it'#and that literally anything can be justified if someone has been defined as a valid target (i.e. less than a person)#(you see this a lot in the whole twitter main character of the day thing - the idea that the problem is directing the firehose#against the wrong person by mistake rather than the firehose itself)#but it's super weird for a novel built on a metaphor about how using the tools of evil for a good end or against existential enemies#is fundamentally corrupting and only further props up what it's meant to oppose#and i mean... the character most like tolkien literally says he could not morally justify lying to an orc and rejects the ring#it's not exactly a deeply buried theme of the book#anghraine babbles#long post#anghraine rants#legendarium fanwank#legendarium blogging#shagrat#gorbag#tv: lotr#jrr tolkien
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AITA Steddie Au Part Three
Part Two
Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!
Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓
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Eddie takes Steve on that second date.
And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.
Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.
Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.
Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.
------
"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.
"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.
He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.
"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.
"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.
Gareth doesn't say anything.
The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.
He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.
So why this? Why now?
"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.
Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.
Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."
With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.
"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.
Eddie kept walking.
-------
That was over four weeks ago.
He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.
In other news.
Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.
"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.
"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.
"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.
But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.
Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.
"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.
"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."
Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.
"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.
Silence.
Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.
Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"
And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.
"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.
"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.
"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.
It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.
Eddie squeezes his hand back.
"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.
Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.
"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.
"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.
"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.
Gotcha.
Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.
Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.
Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.
Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.
Tag List
@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias
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You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.
So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.
But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.
The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.
It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.
This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."
And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.
Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.
I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.
This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.
And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.
Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.
Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.
So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?
And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.
They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.
If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.
If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."
But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.
Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.
If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.
What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.
Today I'm deleting podcasts.
#I guess it did save me a lot of money#I'll still probably go up to nyc to visit with friends for my bday but I won't go all the way out to brooklyn for the show#and I probably won't need to get the hotel room#and I DEFINITELY won't be supporting their patreon like I was planning lmao#I'll buy myself a new tarot deck for my birthday instead#cw:#disability#ableism
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October 20 - Mask Kink
pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader
summary: Wanda plays a game with you.
content warnings: strap-on
word count: 1.4k+
masterlist
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
“Wanda, this isn’t funny anymore,” you say, peering around the doorframe. You wish you could find a light switch, but it was a bit difficult with your hands handcuffed behind your back.
The hallway is dark, and you strain your eyes as you look for any signs of movement. Your mind is playing tricks on you, your head whipping around when a branch scrapes your window. Fuck, you were paranoid.
“Wanda?” you call, your voice shaking slightly.
It had been a stupid idea to suggest playing a game. Wanda had smiled at you and told you to close your eyes and hold still, surprising you by cuffing your hands behind your back. You’d quickly looked up, feeling her lips against your ear as she grabbed your waist and held you flush against her.
“Let's play hide-and-seek, but if I find you before you find me… I get to have some fun.” Wanda had winked at you, before turning the light off and plunging you into darkness as you heard her footsteps retreat down the hallway.
So now you were slightly terrified with wet underwear and an ache between your thighs. You could feel your heart racing in the silence, your breaths quiet as you attempted to slowly walk towards the main part of the house.
A floorboard creaks. You jump, closing your eyes as a spike of fear races through you. Peering into the darkness, you find nothing, but the hairs on the back of your neck tell you that you’re being watched.
“Wanda,” you whisper. “I don’t like this game anymore.”
You loved your girlfriend, truly. But sometimes she could be a bit… psychotic. No, maybe that wasn’t the right word. She sometimes got this look in her eyes that told you she was going to hurt you, and you would fucking love it.
And truly, you always did love it. But, the anticipation and build up terrified you almost as much as it aroused you.
A light footstep behind you causes you to break out in cold sweat, adrenaline coursing through you. With quick footsteps, uncaring of how loud you are, you race towards the living room.
You hear a quiet chuckle sound out, feeling Wanda’s presence behind you as you stumble into the carpeted room, your hip hitting the arm of the couch. You wince, then gasp as a hand roughly grabs your waist.
The room is dark, so you can’t see Wanda behind you as she pushes you onto the couch. She manhandles you onto your stomach, your groans sounding like music to her ears as she presses her body against yours, locking you into place.
You can’t move, you can’t squirm away, and you can’t escape from underneath her. Fuck, the very thought makes you even wetter than before.
Wanda’s hot breath hits the back of your neck, her voice sounding muffled when she speaks.
“Caught you.”
You feel your body shudder at her words, feeling something hard pressing against your neck. Is she… wearing something? You remember her buying a Ghostface mask for her Halloween costume, your mind running miles per minute as you realize what she’s doing.
“I have a question for you,” Wanda says, her hand tangling with your hair and jerking your head up. A pathetic whine escapes you at the action, and you stifle a moan when she grinds down against you. The hard length of her strap rubs against your ass, and you release a shuddering breath.
“Do you like scary movies?” Wanda’s voice is low, dangerous.
“N-no,” you whimper, hearing her chuckle behind you as her hand begins to roughly pull your sweatpants down.
“Wrong answer,” she says, a pleased sound escaping her at the choked sob you release. You’re scared, but your ass is raising slightly as she rubs the tip of her strap against your pretty hole.
“I can hear how wet you are,” Wanda groans, watching the way you try to grind yourself against the toy. “Beg for it.”
You twist your head, able to see her more clearly with the moonlight streaming in through the window. Her hands hold your waist, her auburn hair spilling out from the sides of the Ghostface mask. She tilts her head, and you blanch.
“Please…”
“Do better,” she says, her voice hard. You watch her raise a hand, her palm connecting solidly with your ass as punishment.
“Fuck, I-” you pant, feeling her hand coming down again. “Please fuck me. Just, let me take your strap, I need it. Fuck me hard as punishment for catching me.”
Wanda chuckles, her hand stopping and soothingly stroking your aching cheeks. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”
Without warning, she shoves the strap in. It hits all the right parts inside you, causing you to groan and bury your face into the couch cushion. You can feel her weight on top of you as she roughly fucks you, her hand gripping your waist tightly.
“Ah ah,” she chides, one of her hands sliding into your hair and pulling your head back up. “Look at me while I fuck your slutty little hole.”
You moan at her words, watching her Ghostface mask as she roughly pumps her hips, her strap reaching deep inside you with each thrust. It's arousing, the thrill of being caught mixing with the arousal coursing through you.
“Mmpphh, fuck…” you mutter, feeling your core tightening with each snap of Wanda’s hips. “Please, let me cum.”
“Hold it,” Wanda says, her voice like smooth butter as she somehow manages to fuck you harder. You can feel her hips slamming against your ass with each thrust, angling her own hips to fuck you deeper. The hand in your hair tightens again, the pain nearly sending you over the edge.
“Wanda,” you groan, knowing you’re seconds away from your release.
“You heard me,” Wanda growls, thrusting into you harshly. “Fucking hold it like a good pet.”
Moaning weakly, you feel Wanda’s hand move from your waist and under your body. Her fingers roughly circle your clit, pressing against it as she fucks you. Her fingers slide over it easily, your slick arousal making it nearly frictionless.
You begin to thrust your hips in time with hers, panting as you watch her. Soft moonlight reflects off the Ghostface mask, and you feel more arousal shoot through you at the knowledge that Wanda is behind the mask. Somehow, it was even sexier knowing that she was there but you couldn’t see her.
“You wanna cum?” Wanda asks, her head tilting again at your desperate nod. You can hear the cruel smile in her voice as she speaks, Go on then, fuck yourself on my strap and cum.”
With that said, she stops moving, the strap buried deep inside you.
You pant, moving your hips up desperately in search of more pleasure. Her hand remains still, her fingers bumping against your clit with each rut of your hips. You wish you could use your hands as leverage, but they just twist uselessly in your restraints as you fuck yourself back on Wanda’s strap.
“Is that truly the best you can do?” Wanda sounds amused, and you feel yourself clench around her strap at the humiliation. She can see how affected you are by her words, your pupils blown as you jerkily thrust your hips back to take more of her.
Leaning down, Wanda’s auburn hair brushes against your neck as she whispers in your ear. “Scream for me, pet.”
You don’t get the chance to ask her what she means before her hand is rubbing fast, rough circles against your throbbing clit. She moves her hips, slamming her strap inside you repeatedly, setting a brutal pace as your mouth falls open.
It doesn’t take long until you’re moaning and sobbing into the cushion, your orgasm wracking your body as Wanda fucks you roughly through it. She doesn’t stop, not until your body is spent and your voice is raw and hoarse from screaming, your hole sore and aching in the best way possible.
Turning you around gently, you watch with glazed, tired eyes as she brags the bottom of her mask. Pulling it off, you smile at the sight of her green eyes and gentle smile.
“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” she says, helping you up from the couch.
You lean against her tiredly as she walks you to the bathroom. Wanda’s hands are gentle, a sharp contrast to the past hour of ruthless fucking. She showers you gently, rubbing lotion into your sore muscles after and helping you into bed.
Right before you drift off, you nuzzle into Wanda’s neck, smiling as you speak.
“The mask stays on.”
#Char's Kinktober 2024#charsgaythoughts#wanda maximoff#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff smut#dom!wanda#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda fanfic#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#top!wanda#marvel#mcu#wanda marvel#wanda mcu#wanda maximommy#wlw#wlw smut#lesbian#writing#bottom reader#x reader#lgbtq
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Experiment
Chapter One: Scrambled
[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]
Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3
Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.
“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.
“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”
‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.
You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.
A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.
“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.
He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.
Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.
You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.
“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”
“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”
Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.
“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”
That stings. “Who?”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”
You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.
The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.
You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.
So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.
Anger.
Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.
A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”
He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.
“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.
You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.
You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.
“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”
Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.
“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”
You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.
“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”
“Yes, sir.”
The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.
“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.
“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”
You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.
“Why?” You point at it.
“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”
“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”
Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”
With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.
“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”
Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”
“No.” Price shakes his head.
“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”
“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”
“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.
“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”
“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”
“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”
They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”
“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.
“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”
“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”
“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.
Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.
“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.
Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”
As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.
“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.
“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.
Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.
Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.
“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”
Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.
“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”
“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.
So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?
“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”
“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”
“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”
You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”
The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-
Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.
The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”
“What?” Soap is the first to question you.
“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.
“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”
Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.
“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.
You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.
“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”
You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.
“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”
Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”
You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.
Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.
You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”
“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”
“She what…?” Soap tenses.
Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”
“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”
“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”
“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”
It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”
“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”
Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.
“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
#ghost x reader#john price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish#john price#cod x reader#cod#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#captain john price#x reader
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❝𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!❞
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
Plot: An argument over a remote control surely couldn't turn into hot sex right?
Minors and Ageless blogs DNI.
Content and Warnings : 18+, MDNI, female reader smut, fluff, crack?, make up sex, cockwarming, mating press, creampie, clit play, satoru and reader are not married but he is a bit delulu, satoru is annoying (but so loveable), big dick satoru, passionate satoru. English is not my first language pls be nice
Tagging: @pixelcafe-network 💗
Satoru will never miss an opportunity to be the egotistical prince he is, and he'll take that gaping chance to tease you so pompously, that you wouldn't mind slapping his stupidly handsome face with his stupidly handsome dimpled grin if it weren't for him fucking you so rauchily after a heated argument. He'll make sure to purposely thrust into you painstakingly slow, it was almost like not moving at all. It didn't help that he was still as a lake inside you from the past few hours.
"Impatient enough?" He knew he was easy on the eyes and how hard it made for you to resist and remain with your ego after a fight, especially when he worshipped you even with his mocking words.
"Satoru..fucking move already—" You arch your back, moving yourself on his still cock, desperate and needy, feeling his each vein ridging against your warm, cloy, walls.
"Aw..too much for you? Mh..? Your sweet pussy just clenches harder when I do this.." He cockily speaks, hovering over you, his big strong arms propped onto the mattress, getting a good view of your pussy stuffed full of his lengthy cock and your tits—, his tits spilled out for him.
The rapid flicking of your swollen clit with his index and middle finger makes you reach out your hand to slap his away, the metalic taste of blood hit your taste buds, the bite on your lower lip stopped you to almost push aside your pride and say that you wanted it harder. But you didn't, your body did, feeling the ecstatic pinch of a building orgasm.
He lets out a throaty, enraptured laugh when you raise your hand to slap his away, the desperateness and your duclet sighs not amiss by him. What were you two fighting about again? Satoru would prefer being a dead man if he had to pick between leaving you to sulk after an argument and dying.
He hummed deeply, immediately grasping your wrists to pin them down to the either sides of your head, his sheer strength holding you down. He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours but not quite kissing you, depriving you of that doting intimacy because he wanted you to suffer a bit more. How dare you try to break up with him? Again a hyperbole in Satoru's mind. It was something very measly in reality and you weren't gonna break up with him.
"Just say it baby..just say you want me to fuck you harder..make love to you, tell me how much you love me..come on sweets.."
"Shut up.. you're so annoying.." You spat but your body was a pure antithesis to that statement when you grinded yourself onto his cock.
"Really..? You beg all annoying people to fuck you baby..? I'm jealous" He pushed further, smirking, the mirth in his voice so clear.
"You-"
"Okay fine! I'll do my job! Don't be so difficult.." He tuted, now the one sulking like a child, though pretentiously as if he himself didn't want to give you a mauling fuck. He didn't care if he had to desperately apologise, you were just so cute to him when you were annoyed.
The next words died down in your throat and that acid in your tone was soon cut off and replaced with coarse, sweet moans, your pupils blown wide when he suddenly bucked up and moved his hips to hit is tip to the hilt with an anchoring grip on your waist. The hit was nothing but brute force, while his face was calm but hazed with lust, a sickening, consuming lust for you, his wife. Although you weren't married yet, in his head you already became Mrs. Gojo the moment he first laid with you.
"You know what? No. You shut up, I've had enough of your bullshit...you're not mad at me anymore..yeah..? You got that..?" He cooes to you not concerned about the gaslighting, in complete contrast to the way his cock was ruthlessly splitting your cunt apart, the sticky, stringy webby mess of your arousal and his pearly cum only made it easier for him fuck you like a fleshlight. The fused sounds of your synchronised moans filled the room with the creaking of the bed underneath.
"Oh.. yeah, just like that Toru..yeah..harder..I love you..m' so close.." You cling onto him, his words proving right as you could do nothing but dwindle down into the pleasurable mess he turned you into, you simply couldn't be mad at him for long. "See? Was that so difficult..? thaaat's it, fucking make a mess on your husband's cock..cum." The soft parting of your lips and the vice grip of your cunt made him almost roll his eyes back at your release.
Husband.
Your nails clawed the beefy mass of his arm, eyes in an outerwordly daze that made him fall for you even more if that was possible at all. Fuck. You were so beautiful to him, he'd make you angry and pound you like this like this all over again if it meant he got to see this visual again. He would never get used to it.
"Toru- mh..yeah.."
"Fuuuck..ha..I love you..M'sorry baby.." He slurred completely enamoured by you and heavenly cunt. Satoru felt his dick just twitch inside you when you told him you loved him, a spark buzzed through his head as if your declaration of love was the only salvation he needed, his confident voice now pleading and needy. He grunted, scooping up your legs from the calves to press your thighs to your chest, plunging into you in a mating press.
"I love you, I love you, I love you..fuuck! Fuck..!" He whimpered loudly, shamelessly while spelling out how he loved you, out so hopelessly. His hips gave in few sharp rams, burying himself deep with a single strong thrust, caulking you with his thick seed, his moans deep and guttural.
He didn't even bother pulling out, letting his weight be on top of yours snugly. He kissed you, with all tongue and teeth in languidity. The palpable tension in the room from earlier now replaced with the scent of sex, sweat, the gentle click sounds of lingering kisses. Satoru let out a deep huff, shifting his body next to yours with a plop on the bed before burying his face into your chest again, pressing damp kisses onto the swell of your breasts, exactly onto the spots where he marked you as his with pretty purple abrasions. His slender digits snaked down to spread apart your labia to watch his cum drop out of you. He always loved that debauched slight.
"If you being mad means I get to fuck you like this.. I'm getting you mad everyday.." He chuckled, blowing an air bubble on your skin. Idiot.
"Oh my god. I'm not fighting over the stupid remote again and stop calling yourself my husband—"
"Sorry for acting like that, it will happen again~" Ofcourse he had no remorse.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
m.list! ₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.
#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x female reader#gojo satoru x female reader#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru x you#jjk x fem!reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#jjk x reader smut
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𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔶 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔡
4th house synastry
This in my opinion is some of the most beautiful synastry you can have with someone. When someone has a planet here its going into some of the deepest parts the other persons natal chart.
These people can get very attached to each other. The best planets to have coming into someones else’s 4th house are benefics, the luminaries and your ascendant. You may find if you have malefics in the fourth house it can cause chemistry but more destruction.
I have experienced someones moon go into my 4th house, this was the most beautiful connection. This person feels like the home I have always dreamed of and their arms felt like the safest place on earth. There is a deep and easy understanding of one another's needs and how to comfort one another. The 4th house and the moon are very similar with what they represent in a natal chart. Being with this person is like breathing, its so natural. Its not quite as uncomfortable as 8th house or 12th house synastry, you are still meeting the person in a private place, but instead of them worrying about you exposing things about them, its more like you have a pact where you say ‘your secret is my little secret too’. I will say if someone has come from an unstable home in the past or their childhood, having a fourth house connection can be scary because it can be overwhelming how comforting the other persons feels, as they never had that before.
My ascendant went into this same person 4th house, once again this makes one another easy to understand. Because the 4th house is a more private part of the natal chart having someone ascendant fall here is interesting. It’s as if the 4th house persons recognises the more intimate and private parts of themselves in the ascendant person, they often admire the ascendant persons for expressing things so easily that they find safer to keep behind closed doors.once again the ascendant person makes them feel so comfortable and safe. This synastry with the person honestly hit me harder than others where I has 12th and 8th house synastry.
4th house synastry makes you feel as if you can see and have a life with someone, they are someone you want to build a life with and support each other from the foundation up.
Venus conjunct mars
THIS ONE! This was very powerful. It’s an immediate connection and instant attraction. It’s one where you can put your finger on it but you cant get this person out your head. I had my Venus conjunct his mars. I felt like a woman around him and I and him feel like a man in the ways we both wanted. There was this flow, a natural give and take. He made me feel so feminine and beautiful. He treat me exactly like I wanted to be treated and he courted me exactly how I wanted to be courted.
It's quite frustrating because once you experience this attraction its hard to feel the same intensity and same level of attraction in other connections or people after it. No one feels quite as right or attractive as that person. This is one where you will never forget each other.
You know no matter how much time has passed if you see each other again it will be as if no time has passed, that spark will never die and neither will the attraction.
I will say there is other placements needed to turn the spark into a long lasting wildfire. This can be really difficult if you don’t have other placement to support it because it can create the dynamic of wanting to be with each other so strongly and keep trying and coming back but not being able to sustain it.
Thank you for reading, and let me know if you want more content like this <3
#astro notes#astrology#astrology blog#astro observations#astroblr#astro community#love astrology#synastry astrology#4th house synastry#venus conjunct mars#venus synastry#mars synastry
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Y/N is Jungkook’s American neighbor and the walls between their apartments are paper-thin.... and I think you can come up with the rest iykwim
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kookinglikeachef: There’s just something about neighbor!Jungkook hearing you get off that’s so hot to me and the language barrier is even hotter.
“Hi, hello” - English
‘’Bye, goodbye’’ - Korean
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The scent of the Ramyeon takeout bagged in Jungkook’s hands is enough to make his knees buckle. It’s been a long day of straining his muscles from difficult choreography and leaving the studio to realize he left his keys inside and had to climb six flights of stairs again because the elevator was out of order.
He can practically hear his sofa calling his name, can taste the cold bottles of beer that sit in his fridge. He’s a twenty-seven-year-old K-Pop star and he’s spending his Saturday night alone with a takeaway.
Someone who isn’t doomed to the same sad fate is Y/N, his neighbor who’s all dressed up in something that compliments your skin perfectly, as you’re locking the front door and shoving your keys into the tiny clutch you’ve got hanging from your shoulder on a thick silver chain when you noticed him.
“Oh, hey,” you greet softly in Korean, offering a bright and friendly smile. Jungkook smiles back when he hears it, chest swelling. You’re beautiful, there’s no denying that. But hearing you try to speak his language is what sends him over. Even if your pronunciation wasn’t great.
He’s never seen you dressed in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt or your work uniform. He’s never been given the opportunity to see you in an elegant manner, to notice new parts of your body he can suddenly imagine himself gripping.
He clears his throat and smiles wider.
“Hello. You.. look.. lovely, very beautiful,” he compliments you kindly in English, fingers fiddling with his keys to keep him busy. He watched you blush at his comment, how you pursed your lips to hide your shy smile and it makes him fucking throb.
You knew who he was, of course, you did. You bumped into him six months ago when he was moving in next door. You didn’t recognize him at first, not until you were at his apartment door trying to welcome him to the building and LA that you stared at him with wide eyes and a breathy, “oh wow, aren’t you that guy from that really popular Korean group?”
Okay… so maybe you didn’t know who he was, but you were on the right track.
“Thank you,” you broke from your trip down memory lane and take him in.
He had his usually dinner in hand and his body slightly slouching from exhaustion. You rarely seen him out with friends but your schedules were usually very different.
You hummed, trying to remember in your choppy Korean, "You want come on me and my friends?”
Jungkook bites his lip ring and looked down at the floor, laughing. You stared at him, confused, but still could not help smiling at his attractive laugh.
“No..” he looked back up, still giggly. “No come.”
You nodded, shrugging your shoulders. “Goodnight, then.” You say in English as you waved your hand softly in a bid of goodbye.
“Be safe,” Jungkook says tenderly, a wholesome smile on those pink lips. He waited until you rounded the corner before he unlocked his door and kicked off his shoes.
Jungkook gently tossed the takeout bag on the coffee table on his way to the kitchen, grabbing bottles of beer by their necks with his looped fingers, kicking the fridge closed behind him. His entire apartment is dark but he doesn’t see the point in turning any lights on when he knows the TV works just fine.
There’s only an ounce of loneliness for Jungkook when he eats his dinner alone and watched some sappy rom-com k-drama on Netflix when he turned the television on. He doesn’t long for his friends but a secret part of him craves for his neighbor.
He wondered what it’d be like for you to be cuddled into his side as you’d both watch the movie. Wonders if you’d laugh at certain parts and crane your neck up to pepper soft kisses to his pink lips. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts of you from his mind.
But it’s proven a little more difficult when he takes to his shower and the water is running down his tense and naked body. He struggles to not think about you on your knees, touching and kissing up his thighs.
He has to swallow back the lump in his throat and blinks away the urge to touch himself to the thought of you. He refused to be that kind of guy. So instead, when his hand still starts to wrap around his hardening cock, he thinks of the most disgusting thing he can and gets out of the shower.
Jungkook plays the guitar for a bit of the evening, humming along to tunes to pass the time away. Somewhere through singing “baby we two distant strangers, I know you don't speak my language”, he catches sight of the clock on the wall and he’s confused as to how it’s already a little past midnight.
It’s when he’s locking his door and crawling into bed that he hears a soft giggle muffled from the wall behind his head. He knows that giggle to be of yours and it’s only just occurring to him that perhaps your bedroom is mirroring his.
He’s kicking off his sweats as he throws his cover over his almost naked body and he can hear another sweet giggle fall from your lips. He tries not to let the sound affect him, he knows what’s about to go down past midnight for you.
You’ve brought someone home.
He can hear soft moans slipping from your lips but there’s a high, robotic voice that announces the Bluetooth is successfully connected and he knows he’s about to hear your fuck playlist. The thought sends a thrill through his body and he knows he’s unlikely going to get any sleep tonight.
He’s about to get up, to move to the sofa in the living room, to not be disrespectful and a perv by listening to you getting off with some one night stand, but he hears a familiar low sounding synthesizer and bass muffled through the paper-thin walls and his eyes are bulging.
“Feelin' like I'm floatin'. Something's in the air tonight.”
You’re giggling again and he can hear your body fall to the bed – the bed that’s very clearly pushed up against the same wall that his is and he hears it creak under your weight, feels the wall tremble slightly as your bedframe knocks against it.
His hand finds its way in his boxers before he can fully comprehend what he’s doing. He’s rock fucking hard, and he kicks off his boxers and his sheets, leaving him sprawled on his back, completely bare.
Jungkook hears your soft whimpers, can hear your hum in appreciation even over the thumping of his song. He doesn’t know what’s turning him on more.; the fact that he can hear you getting off and moaning out, or that you’re listening to him while another man fucks you.
Either way, his hand is wrapped tight around his length, thumbing over his oozing tip. He thinks of how you must be, how you’d look completely naked and sprawled out on the bed for him. Jungkook imagines himself on top of you, kissing every inch of your body and wrapping his lips around your swelling nipples. He thinks he can taste you on his tongue, can feel your fingers tugging at his hair.
“Oh, shit,” you gasped through the wall. He can imagine your eyes rolling back when he finally sheathes himself inside you, can see the look of ecstasy on your face when your jaw falls slack and your body quivers. He knows you’d feel him deep in your stomach.
“Fuck,” he pants out breathlessly. He’s tugging at his dick, spitting down on it to get it a little wet. He knows you’re so much wetter on the other side of the damn wall. Jungkook’s head is thrown back in his pillow, eyes shut tight and he knows he’s breaking a sweat that’s dotting at his hairline.
Everything feels surreal, like he’s in his own personal heaven with a touch of hell. You’re crying out for more, begging for it deeper, harder, and he finds himself fucking into his fist the way you’re desperate for.
Jungkook can’t focus on anything other than your sweet fucking cries that sounds fucking otherworldly against his song. It’s when he stops singing that you really let yourself go, filthy fucking moans and whines and God he wishes he could watch you.
You’re trembling and begging as the instrumental plays out, and Jungkook can’t handle it.
Gruff moans are slipping past his lips and he does nothing to try and conceal them. His tatted arm is burning a naked fire in his muscles but he fucks his cock harder, his other hand fondling with his lonely balls and he wants to feel them slap at your ass as he pounds you into your creaky mattress.
He can feel the coil tightening in his stomach, the way his cock starts to twitch. His imagination grows wild and it’s like he’s on top of you, hand around your throat as he shoves his cock in you repeatedly, senselessly. He thinks he can taste your tongue on his. He thinks he can feel your nails scratching down his back.
Jungkook’s mind takes him to sinful places. He can see himself spitting on your tongue, see you swallowing it. He can hear your voice echoing through his ears like a fucking prayer.
“Please. JK!” Even through your cries, your imperfect Korean was the hottest he’d ever heard. Your bed is creaking louder than before and he knows your thighs are fucking trembling as you came around the stranger’s cock. Jungkook’s got his hand and thighs covered in thick ribbons of white arousal and when his eyes flutter open, through blotched white vision, he can see you kneeling between his thighs and licking him up.
He’s completely fucked as he hears his song mellow out and you aren’t moaning anymore. Instead, he can hear your breathless, pretty giggles and your little pants for breath. He stays where he is for a second, eager to see what else he can hear. Your bed creaks again and he supposes the stranger has got up to clean themselves off. But he doesn’t hear you anymore and the song changes to complete and utter silence.
He doesn’t hear the bed creak again or any other noise from your side of the wall, and when it nears 1 am, he figures you two are sleeping.
Jungkook doesn’t sleep the entire night. He can’t. He’s kept awake with the thrill and guilt of listening to his neighbor have sex through the bedroom wall. Or is it with the thrill and guilt of pretending that it was him? He isn’t sure, even after thinking about it all night.
He’s been in the living room, strumming notes on the guitar and plucking inspiration out of his frazzled brain. He doesn’t hear anymore movement from your apartment or the hall for the rest of the night. The narcissistic part of Jungkook wants to catch who the stranger is. Wants to know if his song playing while you had sex, was a coincidence or if your lover for the night holds any resemblance to him.
But as closely (and creepily) as he listens, he doesn’t hear any sign of someone sneaking out and he wonders if maybe it’s not a stranger and perhaps you’d been seeing someone? He doesn’t know why but the thought makes his jaw tick.
It’s 6 am when he’s going downstairs to check his little mailbox, doing something to pass the early morning and to possibly sneak a peek at the stranger. Jungkook thinks 6 am is a reasonable time to sneak out of a brief lover’s arms. And he thinks he’s about to hit the jackpot when he’s about to unlock his door and yours opens.
You’re yawning as you tug your jacket on your shoulders; wearing your work clothes. He frowns with a smile when you notice him.
You’re alone.
His heart is hammering in his chest because you had no idea he heard every word you muttered last night.
“Good morning, Jungkook,” you say in Korean. And he’ll try to respond in English. It’s kind of a thing between you two. And the only thing.
“Good morning.” He smiles. “Um.. fun.. night?” He asks.
“Amazing… uh… night.” You tried.
“Night,” he says in Korean.
“Night.” You repeated. “Amazing night.”
A proud smile spreads over his pierced lips.
“Lucky night,” his smile turns cheeky.
You stifle a loud laugh, playfully hitting his shoulder.
He wonders if you think he’s being nosy, being creepy. Or maybe if you’ve realized that he heard you. But your friends have embarrassed you in front of Jungkook enough times in passing for that statement to be absolutely normal between the two of you—always joking about how lucky you get with guys from the bar.
He was usually still at the studio by the time you’d come home for him to find out if it were true.
“Not a chance. Came home alone, went to bed alone,” you spoke carefully for him to understand and blushed inwardly.
Jungkook just nods along with a smile still resting on his lips and he doesn’t say anything back, his eyes are too glued to your own lips, the sound of your moans still ringing in his ears.
Then… a beat.
You came home alone and went to bed alone? But by the sounds that Jungkook remembers, you were definitely doing something with his voice filling your ears and room… unless…
Oh…
Oh.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook#jungkook smut#kpop smut#fanfiction#jjk smut#one shot#x reader#jeon jungkook#neighbor reader#jungkook fic#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#neighbor jungkook#ramyeon#neighbors#bts jungkook#18+ mdni#kookinglikeachef
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Change My Mind [5]
Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 9.4k
So I edited chapter 3 where Yoongi told Reader to wait till next year for their contract renewal because from the discourse on twt yesterday, they renewed their contract October later in 2018 (which is the year this is taking place).
Gonna stop yapping so here's a 9.4k chapter with a lot of explaining, i hope it all makes sense oh lord this chap is not beta read AT ALL. ALSO WTF IS WITH THE TAGS THEY'RE NOT WORKINGGGGGG
thank you all for your comments and likes, it keeps me going :DD
<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>
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Namjoon was a man of science.
He believes in everything that can be explained in a lengthy and intricately detailed book filled with an even more difficult terminologies and worded examinations backed up by photographic evidence to prove it.
To him, if he didn't see it happen before his very eyes, it was fiction, a lie.
It's how it should be.
As a child, he frowned upon the heretics and the desperate, thanking a nonexistent god for the fruit of their hard work. He couldn’t fathom how they could weep so genuinely as they prayed on their knees for blessings that never come, and if gods were real, he could never understand how devoted they are for someone who turned a blind eye to the challenges they faced.
He never understood how the lonely could resort to immorality in their desperation for a soulmate, couldn't fathom how easily they shed their humanity for a morsel, a hint of that sense of belonging and importance being a tethered gave.
It was dumb.
Life doesn't revolve around soulmates, they should've tried other options instead of blaming the theoretical nirvana for their own misfortune.
Despite being a child born from two mates, he never believed in the concepts of soulmates, thinking it childish as it was an idea the lonely and the hopeless hung onto to feel better for themselves. He believed that his parents would have met either way without their soulmarks, would've fallen in love the same and bring him to life.
Because they were meant to be, even without the marks to prove it.
Sure he wished to eventually settle down with someone who also loved him as his mother does with his father but he doesn't believe in the spiritual connection.
But science has nothing on the sensation he was feeling right now.
The moment the clock struck midnight, a heartbeat suddenly began to drum at the back of his head, but it was faint and muffled as if it was distant and came through multiple walls but he could hear its panicked pace echoing in his skull. In the silence you and Jungkook’s departure has left, Namjoon began to feel dread bubbling inside him. A tension slowly building up with the beat of the racing heart at the back of his head.
It felt like those slowly crescending notes of a horror movie's background music as the killer stalks nearer. There's a tension thickening but he's the only one who could feel it, could sense it coming.
It's making him nervous beyond belief how he doesn't know what is afoot.
A gasp tore through his thought process and he looked up to see his Yoongi hyung eyeing something invisible in his right hand, disbelief apparent in his wide eyes as the others turned to him with concerned curiosity.
But Namjoon already knew what it was, at least felt like he knew what it is, although he himself is incredulous.
He's read up everything that he could about soulmates in his teenage years wanting to refute his parents' insistence on how they wouldn't have clicked as well as they are without the soulmark yet none of them could explain how he just knows the heartbeat at the back of his head belonged to you.
________
Fate truly has a funny way of revealing who your soulmate is.
It was said that the sensation when you first meet your soulmate should be a wave of cold relief flushing all the worries out of your system. Your mother and Jihae told you stories of the sudden sense of belonging, like finding the last piece of the puzzle from a mere accidental brush of a hand with a stranger on the streets.
If it was in any other scenario, you would've agreed with them.
But as Jungkook raises both your hands to survey the skin for any mark, your world shrinks down like an air tight ziplock bag to only fit you and him. A low thrum resonated in the air, mellifluous and sweet, a direct contrast to the dull but racing heartbeat at the back of your head. Jolts of electricity vibrated under your skin starting from your joined hands and spreading across your muscles and lighting your nerve endings awake.
The walls around you closed in, not because it was Jungkook who you happened to be fated to. But because there's a thin, red thread tied around your pinkie.
A red string of fate.
And it's not tethered to Jungkook.
It goes behind you and you dread to know who it leads to.
There's a curious tug from down the line, the thread turning tangible at every pull and the urge to run away, to hide in the comforts of your home grew tenfold. Because you're sure the string leads to one of the boys.
People who became your closest companions after years of being their make-up artist. Half of which you've rejected before and four of them you've remained friends with.
Isn't this a bit too much of a joke?
How funny it must've been for the divinities to watch you reject the men eventually revealed to be your soulmate. They must've cackled, pointing fingers and all, as they watched you reject them. You wouldn’t put it behind them to connect the end of your string to someone you’ve also turned down.
You watched Jungkook speedrun through the five stages of grief in a few seconds, face contorting every so often it made it hard to get a read on what he's feeling. He let out a shaky exhale as he came to, doe eyes meeting yours with an incredulous sheen.
His continuous silence stuffed cottons into your throat, the conflicted expression he has settled on only furthering the panic in your chest.
You retract your hand but he was faster, catching your wrist in a tighter grip. There's a question hanging from his lips but they cease to exist the moment you both see the mark on your finger.
In the space between your index and middle finger lies a black quarter note, inked into the skin of your middle. The tint bold and black.
Raising his own hand, your eyes landed on the same pattern etched on his on the opposite side. As if hypnotized, he intertwined his fingers and the same gentle thrum came back, along with a comforting warmth echoing from your soulmate mark and spreading throughout your body, almost rendering you boneless from how intense yet easily it relieved you of the stress on your body.
You weren't the only one affected by its calming properties. The frustration and anger in Jungkook's from earlier now erased from his face, as if it was never there. Acceptance.
Just like that, the problem is solved; and that unsettles you.
“Noona… Wh-what is happening?”
His voice is so small, shaky and hopeful . Eyes growing larger as he surveys your soulmate marks with a joyful disbelief. He untangled your hand and pulled the soulmark closer to his eye. Curiously, Jungkook hesitantly taps the musical note and shivered with you when skin touched skin.
You both suck in a deep breath, freezing at the foreign sensation it brought you both before a smile that stretches high up to the heavens brightens his face.
Jungkook's eyes were glazed with unshed tears when you found them once more, breath shaky as he placed a kiss onto your knuckles. The sensation of his lips on your skin sending jolts down your spine.
“Noona, we're soulmates.”
You didn't even hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs nor Taehyung calling you both until he got close, hand landing on your shoulder and effectively snapping you out of your trance.
“Are you guys okay? Not too long ago you were at each other's throat and now—woah!”
A shrill of pleasure shocks your body, vision flashing white and you fall. If it wasn't for Jungkook, you would've collapsed boneless next to Taehyung who's gasping on the floor, hand clutching his heart as he heaved. Jungkook let you lean your body weight on him once you stood up again. Arms wrapping around your waist protectively as your brain catches up.
A sharp gasp from Jungkook kick starts your already racing heart, panic flushing out whatever has happened earlier.
But that wasn't the thing that made your head pulse.
It was the shaky utterance of your name and looking up at Jungkook only to be distracted by the faint glow of blue in the shape of a hand on your shoulder. The spot where Taehyung had last touched you.
In the dimness of the hallway, it gleamed a soft shade of purple like a splatter of glow in the dark paint. Your head snapped back to Taehyung who had pushed himself to sit up, cradling his head while murmuring intelligible under his breath until he looked up and his jaw fell .
“I-Is that…?”
“Hyung, what is the meaning of this?”
Taehyung turned to the maknae, spluttering. “I-I don't even… Ho-how is this even possible?”
How is it possible to feel like the world has pulled a carpet from under you while also feeling like you're laying on cloud 9?
Three soulmates.
Two of them being people you once rejected, one of them unknown but the string suspiciously led downstairs where the rest of the boys are.
You feel like passing out just to avoid the talk it'll entail. Maybe you should run at the wall and hope you'll hit your head hard enough to guarantee amnesia.
“Noona, you're seeing this too right?”
Taehyung is now standing in front of you, bewilderment still dancing in his eyes as he traced the already fading handprint and a small line of purple followed. He grinned and it's probably the happiest one you've ever seen him wear, eyes misty and overflowing with joy as he giggled, the sound almost reminiscent of an excited child.
Jungkook’s arm tightened around you.
“Wh-why do you have paint on noona’s shoulder? Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice shakes from the weight of the revelation hanging above his head. “Are we sharing noona?”
“GUYS! YOONGI HYUNG GOT A SOULMATE!”
Holy shit.
Unlike you who's despairing to see the man on the other side of the thread, Taehyung was beyond ecstatic.
“No fucking way. I gotta see this.”
Taehyung dragged you to the stairs when your legs refused to move, uprooting you from where you leaned onto Jungkook's side. Your stomach churned at how lighter the strings felt in your pinkie and a tad tighter as the distance shortened.
There's a sudden heartbeat racing in your ears but it sounds far away and it doesn't sync with the pulse you feel in your temples. You couldn't dwell on it for long before you're faced with the man at the other end of the line.
They said it all started with their eldest but unbeknownst to them, he was the first to notice how your eyes would light up as if it held the entire galaxy, how you’d laugh and he thought it sounded like the sweetest jingles of wedding bells to his ears.
Seokjin might be their eldest but he was the beginning of it all.
In his twenty five years of existence on this damned planet, Min Yoongi has never asked for much, content with whatever life throws at him.
Even with his harsh upbringing, he never kept what he has from others, especially since he met his brothers. He'd willingly ripped off the cloth from his back to keep them warm and plugged their ears with both his hands so they couldn’t hear the hateful words thrown at them at debut, even if it cost of being exposed to them instead. But he couldn't care less, Yoongi loves them with all his heart.
There's nothing in the world that could ever stop him from bending over backwards just so the others could live peacefully.
When his pockets grew heavier with age, this trait only bloomed further into millions donated anonymously to hospitals and charities he could stumble upon.
To everyone, especially his brothers, he’s a generous man.
Until you strode into his life and haunted him in his waking days with the ghost of your touch caressing his face.
Min Yoongi never wants yet he yearned, he craved to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips, to taste your lips and discover if you tasted as sweet as you smell, to run his hand through your hair as to know if it's as soft as it looked under the soft glow of the room.
And for once in his life, he wanted to be selfish.
Being with you makes him want to believe, want to hope that something nonsensical as the concept of soulmates is true.
Min Yoongi wasn’t a believer of such optimism because his mother wasn’t. She passed down her resentment for the fates for turning a blind eye on her onto her next of kin. She was bitter from being untethered and barred her children from subjecting themselves to whimsical thoughts of fates and destinies. But now that you’ve come and bursted through the iron doors of his heart, he started to wonder if the divine had purposely tripped you in front of the BigHit building to be discovered by their oldest make-up noona and lead you to them.
He knew they did, could feel it within him.
There was something different about you on the first day you've both met, something that he couldn't find in others and his mind answered almost immediately.
Soulmate.
You who shined even without the help of others, who stood out like the beacon of light in the shady pits of this world, he couldn’t dare face you as someone whose future is as dim as the blasted world he cursed out. With nothing to offer, he strived to be the best, to crawl to the top whatever it takes.
He couldn't show you a pathetic side of him, couldn't step forward with a bleak future to offer. Yoongi wouldn't be able to bear it if you were to grow miserable beside him.
Because for you, he'd stop at nothing to hand everything you'd ever lay your eyes on wrapped in a pretty bow of the most expensive quality and tucked neatly behind soft colored gift wrappers.
For years, Min Yoongi hid.
What else could he do when most of his brothers also vied for your attention? He loved you all with all his heart, couldn't bear the thought of ever hurting any of you for his selfish desires. So he did what he thought was best, step back and watch from the sidelines.
And he was fine with that.
He thinks himself a patient man. A trait forged by years of encountering nagging customers and demanding adults from working as a delivery boy. Yet all it took was a couple dozen bottles of Soju and a warm atmosphere to accidentally confess his feelings for you. Ashamed and already knowing what his hyung has received as an answer, he puts on a mask the next day and acts.
He did it so well you were convinced he wasn't kidding by forgetting last night's mistakes and swallowing up the disappointment when you didn’t bother asking him again and acted like nothing ever happened.
But it's okay, Min Yoongi is a patient man, he can wait.
So when you appeared before him, a red string tied prettily around your pinkie with the thread leading back to his own, he was beyond euphoric .
He felt like he could climb the highest summit bare in record speed with no equipment and only the warmth of the new bond.
The moment you all appeared in the living room with your shoulder and linked hands glowing purple, all hell broke loose. You didn't even get to look at Yoongi’s reaction when everyone was exploding around you, running to look at the evidence of your connection to Taehyung up close.
“Holy shit!”
“What the fuck?!”
“You guys are connected?!”
“What the fuck is happening right now?!”
Taehyung, despite being the second guy discovering himself as your soulmate, kept a smug smile hovered protectively behind you, hands planted on your shoulders and pushing his hyungs a few steps away to keep them from overwhelming you.
Everyone surrounding you had varying reactions even then, Namjoon kept his distance but hovered over behind his brothers with his eyebrows furrowed, staring with his calculating gaze and the heartbeat echoing at the back of your head grow rampant.
You didn’t dare look at Seokjin, whose gaze weighed heavily with hurt and disappointment, penetrated through your skin, especially when you heard him run upstairs, and the door of his room slams shut.
He who had confessed first, had continued to love you even when you had thought he had moved on, somehow didn’t make the cut. Another cruel joke the fates have played.
It was Jimin who snapped you out of the trance when he grazed the side of your neck and flinched back when swirls of gold erupted from the spot he ghosted over before both your knees buckled. The gleaming gold ink spinning a pretty vine-like twirl before sinking back into your skin.
If the room was loud earlier, it has erupted into a mass hysteria now.
Because four out of your seven bosses turn out to be tethered to you. Three who you had rejected before and one who has never shown any romantic interest in you.
How funny was it for the universe to link you to the same men you've rejected for the fear of ruining the amazing brotherhood they've built from years of hard work and tears?
The sensation of two cascading waves of calmness from the bonds trying to soothe the ever growing dread clashed against each other made your stomach churn. Your headache has evolved into a pulsing one before you felt a tug on the string. From the revelation to the onslaught of feelings attacking and fighting off your initial panic, your body struggled to keep up with its conflicting emotions.
You wanted to run, to hide from their gaze, to put an end to the conflicted mess of emotions being forced into you and surfacing along with your thoughts.
Jimin has refrained from touching you since earlier, his beautiful face now contorted into concern, his soft eyes seeing past the fog in yours while the world continues around you. He stares at you as if trying to decipher something, as if he could somehow feel how overwhelmed you are.
He opened his mouth to say something, his hands already reaching to pull Taehyung and Jungkook away from you when a voice broke through the chatter.
“You're crowding her too much!”
Namjoon’s hands were steadying when he held your shoulders, like water in a desert, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. With their leader stepping in, all words fell into a hush and for the first time since the chaos, it was silent; save for the slowing rhythms of two heartbeats thudding in your head.
If Taehyung and Jungkook's touch felt like a jolt of energy and Jimin was rejuvenating and healing, Namjoon had the ability to kill the noise in your mind with eye contact alone.
Peering deeper into his gaze, your breath stutters because the knowing glint within them has confirmed another thought of yours. Shared heartbeats . Suddenly the other beat in your head sounded clearer, more present along with your thoughts.
A fifth soulmate.
What the fuck.
“Hyung, are you sober enough to drive?”
Hoseok turns to him, face turning serious as he glances at you once more before nodding.
“I’ll get her home, I didn't drink much anyways.”
It felt burdensome to leave such a life-altering problem for them to handle while you cower in their spare bedroom, trying to hide from the reality that you might be linked to all seven of them.
The reassuring squeeze on your shoulders brought you back from the guilty trans you’ve submerged into and was faced with Namjoon's kind eyes and smile.
“Go home noona, we'll handle it from here.”
“You sure?”
He nods. “I know this is overwhelming so I want you to go rest and let me do the planning and talking, alright?”
When you didn’t respond, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you. There’s hesitance in how his movement stuttered, could hear him ponder as he pulled you flush to his chest, afraid of affecting you like the maknaes had but when his touch didn’t evoke the staggering flood of euphoria, he grew more sure of his movements.
With a kiss on your head, he unwraps himself from you and gently guides you back to Hoseok who’s now standing outside the open door of their dorm. His eyes were glued onto you, following your form as you near him but somehow, it felt like he was staring past through you and into the void.
Walking to the car was a silent affair and you don’t know if you rather have Hoseok being quiet or not.
It was bearable when he turned on the radio and a song that has no connection to the boys plays, not that it ever stopped the thoughts constantly spawning from the crevices of your mind.
When you had asked the fates for a soulmate, had you sounded so desperate that they'd given you five?
You’ve heard of three souls connected, hell, Yeonjun is a part of a five-way soulmate link; Interlinked, is what they’re called. Everyone in the group has their own unique mark with each member which usually led to constant overstimulation in the beginning, which made the company put them on medications until their bond settles a year later.
Even today, there are times where they still get affected by their bonds, although not as often as it used to. It was a wonder how there haven't been investigations put on BigHit with how often the five had to be sent to the hospital for soulbond hyperactivity at least once a week for a whole year.
But a nexus between six people, five connected to one. That is unheard of, the rarest even.
Five soulmates yet none of those were Seokjin. Someone who had stuck with you since the first day, the first to confess, and the one who remained loyal, wasn’t tethered to you.
“Hoba?’
“Yes, noona?”
He sounded guarded, his face ironed into a neutral, more serious expression as he slowed as the traffic light went red.
“What’s gonna happen now?”
He bit his lower lip as he pondered, thumbs tapping incessantly on the wheel before he spoke.
“We're gonna have to update your statuses in the DFR, but I doubt the company will make it public just yet. There's nothing also in our contract that prohibits us from pursuing a relationship with our soulmates if we ever come across them so you're good on that front.”
You notice how he excluded himself from the Nexus bond and you feel a pinch on your heart at how formal he has become, as if he’s already put up a wall between you both.
“We'll probably have a long talk about it once I get back but I doubt they'd wait that long for me. You’re probably wouldn't be allowed to touch Jimin and Taehyung anymore when you're working because your soulmarks are very obvious and I know you don't want—”
“Y-You don't think you're also…”
Silence followed as he adjusted himself in his seat as the car began to move again, his hands drumming on the wheel halts as the facade he's wearing shattered for a moment and his eyes grew foggy, clouded by a deep shade of blue.
Under the passing warm lights of the streetlights overhead, Hoseok has never looked more devastated to you than he does now.
You had never noticed it, he has always been open with his affections to his friends so you never thought of it as anything but his usual touchiness. He shows his care for you in the same way he does with his brothers, so paid it no need and brushed it off.
How could Soobin notice it? What had he seen that you missed?
“If I was, I would've felt something different but here we are.” He forces out a laugh before glancing at you and offering a hand. You notice how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “We're still the bestest of friends even without the mark, right?”
Hesitantly, you took it.
The moment your fingers wrapped around his Hoseok immediately takes his hand back in favor of holding the brake between you both.
You try to not let his aversion to touch affect you. It was understandable why he isn’t touching you as he always had. New soulbonds are fickle, there’s been multiple reports where people are rushed into ER after brushing their hands against strangers and had been in excruciating pain from soulbond strain.
Their new bodies had thought they were denying destiny and had punished them. It was ridiculous.
But for him to completely retreat to himself, visibly putting up a tall wall between you both is a different kind of pain. For Hoseok, someone who has never had to restrain himself from holding your hands or hugging you whenever he's excited, to step back hurts you more than you thought it would.
“Noona, we’re here.”
As you left the car, you pondered on what to say to him. What could you even tell him?
Do you even say you're sorry he's not one of your soulmates or would that sound mocking?
Should you say that you had wished once that he becomes tethered to you or would that be rubbing salt on the wound?
But before you could even turn around and say your goodbyes, the moment the door was closed, Hoseok drove off.
Waking up was dreadful.
It felt more exhausting and daring than it had yesterday when you were going to your third date with Guwon. Sleeping was difficult, you could feel Yoongi touch the string from miles away, eyes flying open whenever you felt the thread become tangible and gently glow in the darkness of your room.
It wasn't his soul-link alone that disturbed you, Namjoon’s heartbeat constantly changed rhythm although it was faint enough to blend into the background with the rumble of the air conditioner. From the nervous gallops to the calmer but deeper thuds whenever he seems to drown himself in his own thoughts.
You had research about your soul links when you grew restless in your bed, obsessed over the fact there's little to no information on your and Jimin's mark, trying to ignore the concerned messages from your mother and sister. They were asking about Guwon and why you decided to end things. You know that you should explain, you at least owe your mother the reason why you had decided to stop seeing the lawyer but you couldn't.
After weeks of her constant questioning and spamming links of wedding organizers and dressmakers, you couldn't find the courage to face your mother.
Not that it matters anymore though, not after last night.
Would you send her to an early grave once you tell her the news? How do you even break the news to your parents? Hi mom, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you yesterday. Yes, I stopped seeing Guwon but hey, I found you five new son-in-laws and they happen to be the members of the world's biggest boyband so don't be mad yeah?
She might just make true to her threat of hanging you upside down on a sack on your porch back in the province.
The same thought had led you to realizing how close you were to being engaged with Guwon in Jeju only to find out the next day who your soulmates were.
When you trudged to the bathroom, exhaustion clung and weighed your bones but you excused it to your shitty sleep.
Not once has any of the boys reached out to you the whole night, the silence from Seokjin carving a hollowness in your chest. You know that they're busy handling the grunt and paperworks due today but to have not a single text in the groupchat made dread crawl up within you.
So when the door rang a quarter to nine, you jumped.
The door opens and Namjoon steps into your living room with Seokjin following closely behind him, expression guarded and eyes averted while the former approaches you. Both their eyes are swollen, no doubt from a sleepless night except Seokjin's looks far puffier than the other.
“Hi noona,” Namjoon began, voice soft as ever as he approached you to wrap his arms around you and you let him. “Hyung’s here with me to drive you to the DFR, the others went first since we decided that it's better if you're not lumped up with all your soulmates in one small space so it's just us three today.”
“Have you eaten?” Seokjin says, unmoving from where he stands a step away from the door, guarded and stiff, as if trying to meld himself into the wood.
His voice is hoarse and he looked more worn than you've ever seen him yet he managed to sound soft and put on the smallest of smiles. Your heart twinges.
“I haven't, you guys didn't tell me when we were going to have the bond registered.”
Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We got busy discussing how we'll be moving forward, the company has already cleared out the office and as Hobi-hyung might've told you, they're doing everything they can to keep this under wraps for now.”
“There’s unfortunately no time for take-outs due to the time crunch, I doubt you guys will be out by twelve but I think we can all go for a good, filling lunch.”
“Jinnie, are you okay?”
The words slipped out of your lips before you could realize it had. His eyes widened for a fracture, taken aback before a sad smile stretched his lips.
“I will be, don't worry.”
Namjoon claps his hands abruptly, cutting through the air as he forces out a grin. “Alright, let's be on our way.”
“What about the family dinners?” You pushed on.
“We'll tell them the truth. I can't exactly bring you to family dinners as my fake girlfriend anymore now, can I?”
What started as Jin needing your help in stopping vulture-like aunties trying to introduce their daughters to him, grew far more serious when Mrs. Kim began to invite you annually to their family reunion dinners and had begun sending you the occasional gift boxes from her trips abroad. You tried giving them to Jin when the first box came but he insisted you keep them anyway. It made you feel guilty for tricking his family, especially his mother, but Jin needed your help in warding off the bad energy .
“We told hyung that once the bond gets stable next year, you can continue attending them.” Namjoon adds.
“Obviously I denied, what a stupid idea.” Seokjin immediately responds with a scoff and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Why are you even paired with them when they disregard your safety like this? Really, why would you guys even suggest that?”
Namjoon turns to him with a look that seems to ask ‘do you really want me to answer that?’ and Seokjin pursed his lips in a straight line. You laughed.
It was a relief to see that nothing has changed within their dynamics. You had feared the day everyone would turn against each other because of you. It had made you wary of how much time you spend with a member one on one, scared the others would think of it as picking favorites.
To see Seokjin, the one you have no doubt been more devastated than Hoseok, be making light hearted jokes about the soulmarks lifted off a huge weight from your shoulders.
“I hope auntie won't take it to heart. You were a nice boyfriend but you kept nagging me to pay a nonsense debt.”
“You still have a balance to settle with me, don't forget that,” He jokes. “But seriously, mom would be sad, she likes you better than me.”
Namjoon's phone pings, the sound silencing you both. With a hissed apology, he turned his attention to the device and read the notification on his lock screen before turning to you.
“We need to get going soon. Hobi hyung said Yoongi hyung and Jimin just got called up.”
“Wait, I haven't showered yet! You guys didn't even warn me!”
But as you move to run back to your room, Namjoon stops you with a hand on your shoulder.
“It's fine, noona.”
“It's not like we haven't seen you with unwashed hair for two days straight.”
“Hey that was one time!” You exclaimed, indignant.
“What was the longest day, hyung?” Namjoon clicks his fingers, a small teasing grin tugging his lips.
“Three days I think?”
“I thought it was a week?”
“So that's why she looked so greasy.”
Their laughter when you slapped both their arms twinkled in your ears. The sound warming your chest but also grating your gears at the same time.
Fresher than you had been earlier, you all arrive at the DFA an hour later. Spending thirty preparing, another half traveling to the heart of Seoul.
There's already a few bodyguards dressed in civilian wear lingering outside the office. Mr. Lee approached the car once the three of you began to step out before ushering all of you inside the building with a few other guards.
Save for the receptionists on the other side of the counter placed in the dead middle of the room, the lobby was empty. Sejin comes out from the wide open arch on the right, a man dressed in neatly ironed and a tailored black suit following behind him.
“Let's all move to where the rest are. We couldn't rent the building for the whole day so they’ll be opening to the general public soon but we were allowed to have one floor to ourselves.”
None of you objects and followed him to the elevator and to the second floor where you were immediately greeted by Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook sitting on the blue plastic seats clustered by both sides of the walls.
When the metal doors parts open, their heads turn and immediately, Taehyung stands and runs up to you with arms wide.
Namjoon and Seokjin weren't able to react fast enough. The moment Taehyung wrapped himself around you, a powerful wave of bliss crashed over you and your legs gave out. They all screamed your name as you fell but they were muffled, hands grabbed onto whatever they could in the haste of catching you.
In the bleariness of your vision, you could make out Taehyung narrowly avoiding crumpling onto the floor when someone caught him by the waist.
“...That was so stupid of you…”
“...Why…Taehyung?...”
“Noona?”
The haze clears and you find yourself being carried by Seokjin into the nearest doctor’s office. You hear the door open before Yoongi’s exasperated but concerned voice follows.
“What the hell happened now?”
“Taehyung forgot they're soulmates and hugged her.”
“Fuckin—Just get her inside.”
“Noona, I’m so sorry!”
Seokjin lets you down on a soft cushioned armchair and you find yourself staring back at a bespectacled woman with hair so straight you wonder how Yoongi didn't feel exorcized at the sight of it.
She didn't waste any time and she rose from her seat to inject something in your arm.
“What a wild introduction this is. First you come in with five soulmates, a Nexus group and one of them having Healing Touch, and as if that's not intriguing enough, you faint after a touch from Love Prints! So, very interesting!”
She returns to her seat as the haze ebbs away from your vision with the glowing purple paint on your torso.
“I guess it's true that all soul specialists are… enthusiastic .”
“Only on the right things, don't worry we don't bite.”
There's almost a manic look in her eyes as she stares at you with a fascination only seen in a mad geologist who had found a new and infinitely curious piece of history in the dirt. Seokjin pats your shoulders, squeezing it assuringly for the last time before he disappears out the door.
“So, how's this gonna go?”
Doctor Gwak Jihye was a woman with flat light brown hair almost the same height as you. There's narrow rectangle glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of her nose and a notable beauty mark placed on the apple of her right cheekbones. Black vine-like tattoos peaked out of her cream turtleneck, a soulmark you guessed once you saw the ring on her finger.
The band is as dark as the night yet gleaned like stars under the bright light of the room with three deep blue sapphires engraved on the front. A ring made from soul metal created and only used by the tethered.
She wore the standard white coat of every doctor you’ve ever met with the exception of the detailed pin of two white strings knotted together inside a heart and a red cross placed in the middle of it all.
“We'll do the basic health checks, the measurements and all the like, nothing too difficult. Then we educate you on every soulmark you have. You are aware of what you have with the five of them, correct?”
She rapid fires and you're left agape, mouth closing and open as your brain catches up. The doctor raised an eyebrow and you nod. With that, she motions to the scales behind you as she stands. You followed the woman to the stadiometer placed next to the door.
Once she was done taking your measurements down, you both returned to her desk where she asked you a few questions about your allergies and recent medical history. It was an easy procedure, almost boring. The ever so present exhaustion is still weighing your bones, you yawned. Staying awake felt like a challenge and you don't doubt she had noticed this when she placed down her board to open her drawer.
“You are feeling more exhausted than before, am I correct in assuming this?”
“Yes…?”
She hummed when she found what she was looking for and placed the thick white medicine bottle in front of you.
“This should help your body get used to the bonds whenever you touch Jimin or Taehyung. The exhaustion is normal since you live far from them but once you move in and are surrounded by your soulmates, you should feel more energized.”
Amoneuron , it reads on the label. Curious, you twist the lid open to see what might just be a hundred of blush pink colored round pills.
“With that out of the way, from what I've heard from Yoongi, you've researched every soulmark there is at one point in your life but I doubt that you don't have any questions,” She fished out the yellow folder under her board and opened it, not knowing how surprised you are to hear Yoongi’s involvement. “Anything you'd like to know about?”
Your mind takes you back to the empty search and countless ‘Did you mean…?’ questions on every result. Jimin and your marks never yielded any results, none in Naver and none in Google.
You tried finding it in your books but none of them were ever close to the touch activated golden swirls and the feeling of being rejuvenated.
“I tried researching what could be Jimin and I’s soulmark but I couldn't find one, is it that rare of a mark?”
She nods. “ Healing touch , there's so little information of that type of mark since the last recorded case can be traced back to 1934.”
Your eyes widen, surprised by how rare of a mark you share with Jimin.
“Which meant if there were soul-link related sickness between you, I fear that we won't be much of help as we don't know much about Healing Touch other than mates who has it doesn't get hungry, thirsty nor need much sleep if they interacted enough,” She gauges your reaction, when she saw your confusion she continues. “By interacting enough, I don't mean hugs or hand holding, I mean kisses and sex.”
You began to cough violently, choking on your saliva at her bluntness, cheeks burning bright but she ignored you and continued.
“Hand holding and hugs can only guarantee better stamina and endurance, even being close enough can make the other have a bottomless energy. As this concerns a highly valued individual, our team is already attempting to acquire more information about Healing Touch but I don’t have an estimated time on when we’ll be ready to share our findings, please understand that we are also surprised by this mark’s sudden revival.” She smiled. “Anything else you'd like to ask?”
“Are Taehyung and Jimin's marks somehow similar? I remember feeling… rejuvenated whenever the both of them touched me but then got overstimulated.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“No, Taehyung’s touch shouldn’t affect you outside of the first touch nor should you be suffering from soulbond hyperactivity from both of them. When Seokjin had carried you in, what exactly happened beforehand?”
“When Taehyung hugged me again not too long ago, we experienced soulbond hyperactivity.”
“Huh.” Was all she replied with, hand scribbling furiously on her notes. You had the urge to sit up a little straight and take a peak at what she’s writing down so passionately but decided against it, fearing what you might learn from it.
“Any guesses on what could have caused this?”
“It's hard to say much for now since Healing Touch is a very rare mark. But I can hazard a guess and say that due to their similar nature being touch-activated marks and Healing Touch being as powerful as it is, it had influenced Love Print somehow.”
If her words were anything to go by, If Jimin and your soulmark does greatly affect both your livelihoods by practically rendering you both immortals by eliminating the need for food, sleep, and water as long as the needed affection level is met; not to mention, as long as the both of you are close enough, exhaustion is nothing but a word.
And if Taehyung’s soulmark has evolved due to Healing Touch, then wouldn’t the benefits, at least the bare bones of them, extend to him as well?
You already sense the building headache you’re about to experience in the future with three—including Jungkook whose energy is already a thousand times more of a kid in a toy store—bouncy men with the energy of a toddler in a sugar rush. In advance, you began to pray internally for Namjoon, Sejin, and Seokjin’s sanity.
“It seems that I am due to share notes with the doctor who had interviewed Jimin,” She says as she slams close the cover of her journal with a smile. “This could lead to a breakthrough in the future, with both of your permissions, we would like to study your soulmark more intimately.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it but my soulmate might not share the sentiment. The company as well.”
“Your soulmarks could very well lead up to the discovery of the cure to an incurable disease, I doubt he would decline such a possibility.”
You don’t doubt the possibility of your soulmark being the answer to the long time issue of something as fatal as cancer or dementia but the prospect of being examined, had made you feel uncomfortable. To be under intense scrutiny and possibly put under a specific diet to tailor to their needs—especially when Jimin had only recently stopped caring about his body image—had made you more unwilling to participate.
You’d spare a few vials of blood since your bond can regenerate it back in record time but a prolonged trial is definitely a no.
“Why did it manifest now? After all those years, why now?” You ask abruptly, trying to change the subject. You hoped she would take the bait and luckily, she did with a defeated sigh.
The answer to your question is already solved, it was simple.
“As you know, once we hit the age of 16, the chances of meeting our soulmates goes up to 10% and will gain the same amount the next year will continue on till it hits a hundred on the 26th and the chances of manifesting a mark stops on the 27th,” You nod, feigning ignorance and she continues. “The Nexus connection had to wait for Jungkook to show which had put yours and the rest to a state of dormancy. So when he turned 21, with half a hundred chance, he finally got a mark and here we are.”
You stand and bow, not wanting to leave any free millisecond where she could try continuing to pressure you into agreeing into their research.
“Thank you so much for your insight, Dr. Gwak.”
She looked incredulous and surprised by your sudden actions before returning the gesture.
“It’s a pleasure to be able to foresee a unique connection such as yours, Ms. Y/n. I hope you all the best.”
With that, you leave the room in a haste and let out the biggest exhale once the door behind you closes.
You hear the soft murmurs of voice just around the corner where you guessed you’ll find everyone save for Namjoon who must’ve been called after you had been carried in by Seokjin. But when one door closes, another opens. There’s still a few things you’re due today, a talk with the inner circle of the company, talking with the legal team to figure out who else can know the connection outside of your Nexus, and how you’ll be continuing working as their make-up artist.
There’s a tug down the thread and you look down at your pinkie to see the line turn tangible and vibrant before a wave of concern floods your system.
Tentatively, you twirled the string around your finger and the headache fades. You watch as it glows brighter, livelier with both hosts touching it before tugging it back twice. Instantly, Yoongi responds with another. You expected the string to dim, for him to let go but it remained vibrant under both of your touch.
The dull ache at the back of your head returns.
“Are you the lady with the Healing Touch soulmark?”
You jumped back to see an old woman, around the age of sixty, peering up at you with a gentle smile playing on her lips. She dons the same white coat Dr. Gwak wears the same pin of a soul specialist on the lapel and her name tag displayed on her breast pocket.
Shin Sun-young , it reads.
“In my years of being a specialist, I've never seen so many souls connected to one so I'm sorry if I'm a bit much, I'm very curious how it must feel. Having one is already overwhelming for me, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling now.”
“Yeah it's a bit much sometimes… I had three of them touch me all at the same time and I almost fainted. I don't know how I can deal with it.”
“We have some medicines for that but I’m sure you already know that and have been prescribed right. It’ll dull up your senses till the first year then you can stop taking it.”
She pats your back as you both walk off the sides and you find your soulmates sitting obediently down the hall. Jimin was lying on one cluster of seats in front of the others with an arm over his eyes and the other pinched into a fist on top of his stomach while the rest of the boys squeezed together into the five seats on the opposite wall.
You notice the missing presence of their eldest but shrugged it off, guessing that he must've wandered off to find the bathroom or a vending machine.
“I hope it goes well for you seven, I'm sure they'll treat you so well.”
Your head snaps to her. “Seven?”
“Oh? Am I wrong? I thought all of those boys are tethered to you. Forgive this old soul.”
A suspicious voice told you that she had intentionally guessed wrong to fish for information but you tampered it down, giving the curious woman the benefit of a doubt. Soul specialists have the reputation of being knowledge-driven crazy people with barely any other qualifying trait other than their unusual obsession with soulmates after all and this lady might just be one of the people that fits the bill.
“Hoseok and Jin, their eldest who has gone somewhere, aren't tethered to me. There's no sign of any marks manifesting and we just assumed the worst.”
You hated how you sounded so dejected. You must’ve sounded so greedy to the lady for wanting to have your seven friends to be yours, as if you even deserve Seokjin’s unfaltering love.
She hums. “Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.
“Dear, everything in the world is advanced now. They could have their blood tested to see if there's a possibility that they're also tethered to you.”
You were reminded of the times where you began to dread your birthdays when you should've been celebrating, the desperation before the abrupt descend of defeat on your birthday this year when you finally realize that you weren't
“How is that possible? Why now? We've had years of technological evolution but something like that only appears now? Where was this when I wanted to find out if I was—”
She sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder, effectively shutting you up. “Soulmates are spiritual deary, past technology and brains of yesterdays had difficulty in figuring out the hows and why it works. But now, I can assure you that we have finally found a way to find if you're really untethered or not.”
“Tha-that’s a thing?”
You turned around to find Seokjin on the opposite hall, carrying what seems to be a hundred snacks with two hands, surprise contorting his face. Crossing the distance in under two steps, he stared at the lady with hopeful eyes.
“Where can I have myself checked?”
The way his voice dripped with hope, with desperation of a man who had lost his way and finally found a chance of redemption, a new salvation to pour his attention to. Hearing it made your chest clench. But there was no testimony for their new found tech, there's no telling if they're actually telling the truth.
As much as you are curious as to what the result could be, you couldn't have Seokjin join the test all hopeful only to fall into a deeper hole if he found out that he's actually untethered.
Your heart won't be able to handle the absolute devastation that would follow.
“Jinnie—”
“You boys are in luck, we just had the machine set up last night and we’re looking for—”
“I’ll do it. Me and someone else.”
As they began to talk about the technicalities of using the machine and partaking in their research, you found yourself standing there in shock.
You already suspected Hoseok also shared the same sentiment Jin held but to hear him indirectly confirm them had your heart bottoming to the soles of your feet. The guilt that used to only stem from Jin and Taehyung's confession came back to you like a blow to the head.
Jin then briskly walked away, you followed to see him approach an increasingly concerned Hoseok who watched his hyung march up to him with an indistinguishable fire in his eyes.
“Hoba, I found a way.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Found a way… to what exactly?”
“They have the technology to figure out if we're actually untethered or not.”
Everyone's eyes widened. Jimin had woken up from his nap and turned his head to his hyungs, shocked by what he had heard. Taehyung's jaw hung open, looking around in bewilderment before he stood to walk around the rest of the boys and into the stunned Hoseok on the other side of the seats to engulf him in a hug.
Even Manager Sejin who has been talking to the lawyer he brought with him had turned to listen to the conversation.
“H-Hyung—”
“I've already talked to the doctor who will be overseeing our examination and all they ask of us is our blood then the resul—”
“No.”
Seokjin’s shine dims with the atmosphere as his smile falls. Taehyung pulls away, more astounded than he was before as he stares at him in disbelief.
“Hyung?”
“Wh-what do you mean?” Seokjin stammers out in disbelief.
“What if it came out as negative still? Hyung, I've already accepted my status. I-I don't want to raise my hopes up only to come down to the same result.”
“It doesn't hurt to try Hoba,” Seokjin said softer this time as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Try with me, please . If it's negative at least we can lament together.”
Hoseok agreed not too long after, unable to say no to his hyung, not when he's begging and pleading. Seokjin led him back to the soul specialist to have their blood taken. You had waited for them next to Yoongi on the seat Hoseok had occupied earlier. It's only 10am at that point yet your energy tank is drier than the sahara and non-existent as a stress-free day for you. When the two returned, you were slumped down on Yoongi's shoulder half asleep.
The exhausting day didn't end there.
After your soulmarks were registered, you all went to BigHit for a meeting and you thanked the high heavens no one from your department had seen you enter the conference room with the boys and a lawyer.
Minhyuk had asked you why there'll be a company party at dinner but no birthday boy will be showing up. You lied and told him that Jungkook’s going back to Busan to celebrate his birthday with his family. Jihye had also questioned your absence and you had apologized to her, knowing how often you've been going for leaves these past few weeks.
She says it's fine but you still feel bad anyways.
The meeting was short yet it felt like centuries has passed until you were freed. Just a couple of rules being laid like you being unable to handle Jimin and Taehyung anymore, the living situation where you'd be moved to the Bangtan dorms, and who else would know about the connections between you and the boys—they had approved letting your three friends know once you reasoned that they'll be able to save you once people began to question your aversion to touching Jimin and Taehyung in the future.
By the time you had trudge into your room, you were beyond the word exhaustion. Brain far too fogged up you to pick up on the blaring red lights in your mind as the world swirled around you and you fell face first into your bed.
You chalked it up to your sleepless night and the emotional stress you've gone through these past few days so imagine your shock when you wake up and find yourself in a sterile and white room whose ceiling lights burned your eyes the moment they opened again.
It was so bright and so white, you remember passing out before you came here and all you could feel now was bliss, as if the heavy baggage you've collected from last week and last night had been lifted off your form.
As if you were in heaven .
“G-God?”
“No, it's Min Yoongi. Open your eyes, brat.”
The haze clears at his gruff voice and you began to hear the stable beeping echoing in the hollow room. There's a heavy weight wounded loosely around your waist as well on your legs, turning your head, you were faced with the peaceful but almost colorless face of Jimin, his usually plush pink lips now pale and chaffed as his body trembled next to you; you were shaking too.
Turning to Yoongi to ask him what happened, you find your hand entangled with his. His impassive face now laced with concern and there were dark bags hanging under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping for a while.
“What the fuck happened?”
TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer
#bts x reader#bts x reader poly#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader#min yoongi x reader#jung hoseok x reader#park jimin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#soulmate au#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader
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Cruel Fates (Part 2)
Pairing: Azriel x f!Reader, little Eris x f!Reader
Summary: Azriel is your mate but only you know it. You are very aware that he has eyes for someone else and thus you decide not to hide it forever. After all, what could go wrong right?
Warnings: Angst (I don't think I can ever stop myself from writing angst.)
Based on this ask.
4.1K words
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
You found yourself aimlessly wandering along the banks of Sidra after storming out on Rhys. The ambient noise enveloped you—the rhythmic splashes of the river against rocks, the bustling chatter of the market, birds chirping in the background. Everything felt mundane, yet strangely comforting. Ignoring your problems wasn’t a solution, as Rhys had pointed out, but it was undeniably easier than facing or even acknowledging them. Nevertheless, you had resigned yourself to the current state of affairs.
Using distraction as your shield, you returned home burdened with bags filled with new books, clothes, and other unnecessary items. As you entered the elegant two-story building you called home, a sense of familiarity and solace washed over you. This palace had become a sanctuary, a reflection of your own essence.
Closing the door behind you with a soft thud, you were greeted by the familiar scent of citrus and jasmine. Setting down the bags, you kicked off your shoes. The silence of the house stood in stark contrast to the lively atmosphere of the market. Just as thoughts of Azriel slipped from your mind, your senses sharpened, recognizing the subtle hum of shadows.
"Ah, the shadow singer. Ever heard of knocking or privacy?" you quipped, though you didn’t need to turn to know it was him.
"I'm a spymaster; it's not in my nature," he replied with his customary soft smile.
Refusing to let your gaze linger on him for too long, you busied yourself by fetching a glass of water.
"How can I assist you, Azriel?" you inquired as you filled the glass in the kitchen beyond the hall where he stood. You still felt a distance from him, not quite comfortable enough to address him as Az like your sisters, Feyre or Elain, did.
"Can't I simply enjoy your company?" he teased, his voice gentle.
Turning away, you closed your eyes for a moment, mentally reminding yourself to compartmentalize. "He's just being polite," you repeated to yourself, trying to drown out the nagging voice in your head that reminded you of Elain's constant talk about him. "He treats Elain the same."
You scoffed, hoping it didn’t come across as too rude. "Yeah, sure. Now, what brings you here?"
"We're expecting Eris to arrive in a few hours, around sunset. Rhys wanted me to ask if you've changed your mind."
Ah, you had forgotten about the impending meeting with the prince. You sighed. "And Rhys couldn’t ask me himself because?" It was a rhetorical question, but Azriel seemed unaware.
"He mentioned that you two had a disagreement, and he wasn’t sure if you'd be open to talking."
"Of course, I'll talk to him. I’m not a child," you replied, your brows furrowing. "And yes, I still intend to attend that meeting."
Azriel nodded, his expression unreadable as always. "Good to know. In that case, he asked me to inform you that you’ll have to deal with this meeting on your own, there are some crises with an Illyrian camp that he had to attend to, and he is running late.”
“Oh,” A part of you was glad that Rhys let you handle this, “It’ll just be me then?”
The spymaster shook his head, “Of course not, I’ll accompany you.”
You nodded as you were unsure of the right response, “Is there anything else I should know before I meet Eris?”
Azriel paused and started slowly, “My shadows tell me he wishes to overthrow his father. But it’s difficult to know what’s the truth.”
“Ahh, that’s why Rhys put me on this.” you realized as Azriel nodded in response.
You wondered why Rhys requested you accompany him to a meeting with Eris. The powers you got from the cauldron were unique. Your ability ranges from slowing a person's pulse to snatching the air from their lungs as long as the target must be in your line of sight. You can command human organs and regulate emotions by releasing certain chemicals in the body. This allows you to induce suffocation by removing air from someone's lungs, controlling blood flow, causing heart attacks, dictating heart rhythm, and slowing healing. Aside from being extremely valuable in a battle, you can also act as a living lie detector, by monitoring a person’s physiological response.
“Alright, I’ll be there, is there anything else?”
Azriel looked like he was about to say something before he muttered a no.
“You know better than to lie to me, what is it?”
He signed before he finally asked, “I knew that you and Rhys got close in a short time but I didn’t realise you were close enough that he trusted you to handle a meeting alone. That too with Eris.”
“Honestly, I didn't know either.” you said, “Rhys and I connected so quickly that it felt like I had known him for years, he is the older brother I never had. I am glad that he trusts me to handle this.”
You noticed a strange emotion flash in his eyes for a quick second before he gave a soft smile “I am happy for him, I am glad he found a friend in you, y/n. Cassian and I may be his brothers but he still doesn't confide in us completely, he is too afraid to burden us. Feyre and you are good for him.”
You returned his smile, “We all need someone to lean on.”
“Well, Is there anything you need assistance with before then?", he asked.
You shook your head, dismissing any further conversation. "No, I'll manage. Thank you, Azriel."
He lingered for a moment, as if debating whether to say something else, but ultimately turned to leave without another word.
As the door clicked shut behind him, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. It wasn’t directed at Azriel, but rather at yourself for the walls you had built, preventing anyone from getting too close. Yet, at the same time, you couldn’t bear the thought of letting those walls crumble, leaving you vulnerable to the possibility of rejection. Aside from that, even if he did feel the same way, how long will it last? That too with your newly immortal lifespan? You have witnessed true love fall apart in a short time in the human lands. How would it not end in anything but pain in the life of an immortal? If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was that to love, is to destroy. Not telling Azriel was the best option for yourself, you were not going to invite pain to your doorstep.
With a heavy heart, you retreated to your room. You knew that sooner or later, Azriel would find out but for now, you allowed yourself the temporary respite of distraction.
Later that day, the anticipation of Eris's arrival hung heavy in the air as you prepared for the meeting. Despite your best efforts to focus on the task at hand, thoughts of Azriel and the unresolved tension between you lingered at the edges of your mind.
As the sun began its descent, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, a knock at the door signalled Eris's arrival. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you made your way to the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest.
Opening the door, you were met with the sight of Eris standing tall and imposing, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a striking shade of amber, sparkled with mischief as he took in your appearance.
If you were to describe him, you'd call him the living embodiment of fire.
He was the light to Azriel's dark, they were opposite in every way possible.
“Well, well, well, if it isn't the infamous Y/N," he drawled, his voice smooth like silk. "I must say, you're even more captivating in person."
You rolled your eyes at his flattery, though you couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement that his words stirred within you. "Save the charm, Eris. It won’t work on me."
He chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you, the air between felt charged, "You wound me, darling. I assure you, my intentions are nothing but genuine."
Before you could retort, Azriel appeared beside you, his presence like a sudden gust of wind that left you breathless. Though his expression remained neutral, you couldn’t shake the feeling of tension radiating from him.
You did miss how Azriel's heart rate was unusually increased, while Eris' remained stable calm and genuine, just like he mentioned before.
“Eris," Azriel greeted with a nod, his voice devoid of warmth.
"Az," Eris replied, his smirk widening as he used Azriel's nickname. "Always a pleasure."
The air crackled with unspoken tension as the three of you made your way to the meeting room. Eris's gaze lingered on you, his eyes flickering with a mixture of curiosity and desire that sent a shiver down your spine as you all took your seats.
“Imagine how surprised I was when my high lord told me that you had requested a meeting with the night court.” you began holding the prince’s eyes.
“I had requested to meet Rhysand but I am not complaining. You are far better to look at.” Eris said with a smirk that never seemed to leave his face.
“I'll inform him that you were pleased by the arrangement.” you replied with an earnest smile.
Maybe this could be fun, you thought.
Maybe you found Eris fun.
As Eris seemed to give another flirty retort, Azriel spoke.
“Why are you here?
“Ugh! You are no fun Azriel. It’s not like you don't know already.”
You raise your brows at him, asking him to elaborate.
Eris obliged, “I want to…” he seemed to pause choosing his words carefully, “relieve my father from his duties and be the high lord of Autumn court.”
You couldn’t help but snort a laugh at his words, “‘relieve my father of his duties’? My, my, whatever happened to daddy's loyal boy?”
You caught the slight upper tilt of Azriel's lips just as your powers detected the slight rise in the pulse of Eris before it slowed down again.
“Apparently he's not as loyal as you thought.”
“How can we trust you?”
“Who are you kidding, princess? I'd be a fool not to know about your interesting powers.”
“Fair enough, what does the night court have to do with this?”
“Help me, to get rid of my father, support my claim as the high lord.”
“Why would we do that? We’d then be replacing one monster for another.” you shot back.
If your words affected him, he showed no signs of it, physically at least, but the small spike in his cortisol levels and the drop in his pulse told you your words hit their mark.
Eris's smile tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure, leaning back in his chair with an air of practised ease. "I can see why you might think that, but I assure you, I'm not my father. Unlike Beron, I see the value in alliances and mutual benefit."
Azriel crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "Convincing words, Eris, but words are cheap. What do you have to offer in return for our support?"
You couldn’t honestly remember when was the last time you had heard him speak this much, or if you had ever interacted with him for more than a few words.
Eris's gaze flickered to Azriel, then back to you. "Information. My father is planning something that could have catastrophic consequences for all of us. He's been working with a human queen—one who has a vested interest in starting a new war between our realms."
Your heart skipped a beat, a sense of dread settling over you. "Which queen?"
Eris's expression grew grave. "Queen Briallyn. She's amassed a formidable army and is working with my father to create a weapon that could tip the scales in her favour."
You exchanged a glance with Azriel, whose stoic expression betrayed a flicker of concern. "What kind of weapon?"
"One that can manipulate the very fabric of magic itself," Eris replied, his voice low and serious. "It could render even the most powerful High Lords and their courts defenceless."
Azriel's eyes darkened. "And you have proof of this?"
Eris reached into his coat and pulled out a small, intricately carved box. He placed it on the table and opened it to reveal a collection of documents and maps. "These are the plans and correspondences between my father and Queen Briallyn. Everything you need to verify my claims is right here."
You leaned forward, scrutinizing the documents. The meticulous detail and undeniable authenticity left little room for doubt.
You sighed passing the letters to the shadowsinger. "Just when we thought Prythian had a moment of rest."
Eris met your gaze, his expression was earnest. "Our courts need to work together."
You considered his words, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. It was a risk, but the potential consequences of inaction were too dire to ignore. "Assuming we agree to help, how do you propose we go about it?"
Eris's smirk returned, though there was a determined glint in his eyes. "We can meet regularly and update eachother with what we know and proceed from there."
Azriel's gaze remained fixed on Eris, his expression unreadable. "And what guarantees do we have that you won't betray us once you have what you want?"
Eris leaned forward, his amber eyes burning with intensity. "You have my word and the knowledge that if I betray you, I'll be signing my own death warrant. Beron would kill me in a heartbeat. I need this alliance as much as you do."
You took a deep breath, weighing the risks and benefits. Finally, you nodded. "Alright, Eris. We'll discuss this with our high lord and get back to you. But know this—if you betray us, there will be nowhere in this world you can hide."
Eris inclined his head, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Understood. Now, I've always been curious about your powers," he began, his tone light but laced with genuine interest. "I've heard rumours, but I find that firsthand accounts are always more... enlightening."
You arched an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a guarded expression. "Have you now, Eris? And I’m not in the habit of revealing my secrets to just anyone." Your powers were not publicized much, you and Rhys decided it was more advantageous to keep it quiet. But they weren’t a secret either.
Eris chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. "Ah, but I'm not just anyone, am I? People talk about you being able to control the very essence of life itself. Now, that sounds rather impressive, don't you think?"
You chuckled softly, crossing your arms. "Rumours tend to exaggerate. I'm sure the truth is far less exciting."
Eris took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "Is that so? From what I understand, you can manipulate the body on a molecular level. Imagine the possibilities... and the danger."
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Dangerous, perhaps, but only to those who give me a reason to use it."
His eyes gleamed with amusement. "Fair enough. But tell me, how does it work? Do you just think about it and—poof—someone's heart stops beating?"
You gave him a sly smile. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Or at least give you a nasty headache."
Eris laughed, a rich, warm sound that filled the room.
Eris's expression grew more serious, though his smile remained. "You know, Y/N, there's something else I've been thinking about.”
You looked at Azriel and joked, “Look at that! You have certainly been thinking a lot recently, haven’t you Eris? Looks like you’ve been having a lot of thoughts.” You were surprised that Azriel gave a small smile from the way he had tensed this entire meeting, waiting for a chance to pounce on the Autumn prince.
Eris widened his smile at your comment as he continued, “Here’s my proposal, this alliance between us... it could be more than just a political arrangement."
You tilted your head, intrigued despite yourself. "Oh? And what exactly are you suggesting, Eris?"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm suggesting a union between our courts, a marriage of sorts. Think about it—together, we’d hold so much power."
Azriel lost all his self-control as he whispered in a deadly calm tone, “You have gone insane.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. Your powers silently rush to soothe Azriel before he does something reckless, "You certainly don't lack ambition, I'll give you that. But why on earth would I consider such an arrangement?"
Eris's gaze softened, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes. "Because I believe we could be unstoppable together. You're powerful, intelligent, and, if I may be so bold, quite captivating. With your abilities and my resources, there's no limit to what we could achieve."
You felt a flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even the faintest hint of intrigue.
“Too bad you were already mated, if only he knew”, you thought to yourself.
A slow thought crept into your mind, “So what if you were mated? Nothing was going to come out of it anyway.”
"Captivating, am I? You do know how to charm, Eris. But you'll have to do better than that to convince me."
Eris's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Consider it, Y/N. Imagine what we could accomplish together. The Autumn Court and the Night Court united as one. We could bring peace, prosperity, and a new era of cooperation to our people."
You studied him for a long moment, weighing his words. There was no denying the potential benefits of such a union, but there were also risks—trusting Eris was a gamble, and one you weren't sure you were ready to take. Thoughts of what he did to Mor screamed in your head.
“I didn’t forget your past with Morrigan, Eris. You still expect me to agree to this?”
His eyes narrowed at that, “Morrigan knows the truth of what happened that day. Ask her for the entire truth.”
Confusion bloomed inside you at his words but you did not have time to sort through lies now, Azriel was too agitated and you were left with an important choice to make.
"I'll think about it," you finally said, your tone careful. "But don't get your hopes up, Eris. I'm not so easily won over." you slipped a mask of playfulness again.
Eris chuckled, rising from his seat with a graceful fluidity. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Y/N. Just promise me you'll keep an open mind."
You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll keep an open mind. But remember, Eris—if you cross me, you'll regret it."
He inclined his head, his expression earnest. "I wouldn't dream of it. Until next time, Y/N."
With that, Eris turned and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The idea of a union with Eris was both tempting and daunting, and you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of you—and for your courts.
The room settled into an uneasy silence. You could feel the tension radiating from Azriel beside you, a stark contrast to his usually calm demeanour. His jaw was clenched, and his shadows seemed to writhe and twist around him with a life of their own.
You turned to face him, concern etched into your features. "Azriel, what's wrong? If I hadn’t calmed you Mother knows what you’d have done to him!"
Azriel’s eyes, usually a cool and controlled shade of hazel, now burned with a fierce intensity. "What's wrong? Are you seriously considering his proposal, Y/N?"
You blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his reaction, you have never seen this side of him.
"It's not as simple as that, Azriel. We have to consider all options if we want to ensure the safety of Prythian."
He took a step closer, his voice low and filled with barely suppressed anger. "Eris is playing a dangerous game. A union with him? You can't seriously think that's a good idea."
You met his gaze, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm not saying I'm going to marry him tomorrow, Azriel. But we can't dismiss his proposal outright. There’s the potential benefit—"
Azriel cut you off, his voice rising. "Potential benefit? He's manipulating you, Y/N! He wants power, and he’ll use you to get it. Do you really believe he has anyone's interests at heart other than his own?"
You felt a surge of defensiveness, your own anger flaring in response. "And what if he does? What if this alliance could actually bring about the change we need? We can’t afford to let personal grudges cloud our judgment. He meant everything he said today, not a single ill-intended thought!"
Azriel’s expression darkened, his shadows growing more agitated. "This isn't about personal grudges. This is about trust, about loyalty. Eris has proven time and time again that he can’t be trusted. And now he's proposing a union with you? He’s trying to bind you to him, Y/N. To control you."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I know it’s risky, Azriel. But we need allies. We need every advantage we can get if we're going to take down Beron and stop this war."
Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And what about your own safety? What about the risk to you? I can't stand by and watch you put yourself in danger for a power-hungry prince who will betray you the first chance he gets."
Your heart ached at the raw concern in his voice, hope threatened to manifest in you but you shoved it aside and held your ground. "Why do you care, Azriel? I can take care of myself. I’m not making any decisions lightly. I just need to consider every option."
Your words cut through the air like a sharp blade, and for a moment, Azriel seemed taken aback by your response. His gaze softened, his expression filled with a mixture of frustration and hurt.
"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because you are like Rhys’s little sister, you are one of us. Because I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."
Though a part of you was glad he cared but you scoffed in disbelief, “Right. Because I am important to Rhys. Well, this decision is mine to make and I will discuss it with Rhys as it concerns his court. I’ll be sure to take what you feel into consideration. Thank you for your input, Azriel.”
His gaze hardened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Fine. If that's how you want it. But have you ever stopped to consider the possibility that you might have a mate, Y/N?"
The question hung in the air like a heavy weight, the implication sinking in with a sickening certainty. You felt your breath catch in your throat, the blood draining from your face as you struggled to comprehend his words.
"What if you have a mate out there, waiting for you?" Azriel continued, his voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of pain. "What then?"
You recoiled as if struck, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a tidal wave. The truth, the painful, unbearable truth, threatened to drown you in its depths. A dry, joyless laugh came out of you.
"I don't have a mate," you spat out, your voice trembling with rage. You lied without a second thought. The ease of it scared you. "And even if I did, it's none of your damn business, Azriel. Stay out of my life."
With that final, venomous retort, you turned on your heel and winnowed out of the room, leaving Azriel behind in a cloud of anguish and regret.
As you fled down the empty corridors of the townhouse, your heart ached with a pain you couldn't name.
You opened Rhys’s study door without a second thought and sighed in relief as you found Feyre and him.
Realization of what truly happened spread through you like a bolt of lightning hit you. Both of them were quickly at your side, worried and asking you questions. A single tear slipped as your voice broke,
“Not telling him was one thing, but lying to him? Oh cauldron, what have I done?”
Next Part
Taglist: @sidthedollface2, @a-courtof-azriel, @whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog, @acourtofsmutandstarlight,@katherinejess, @mybestfriendmademe , @landofpetrichor , @isa1b2h3 , @anuttellaa , @cherryinsalemverse
Let me know if you want to get added to the list or if I missed someone!
#Is it too late to make this into a eris x reader fic#these two are idiots and i love it.#azriel x reader#eris vanserra x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel#azriel angst#azriel/reader#azriel x you#acotar#rhysand#eris vanserra#eris x reader#azriel spymaster
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REC LIST STEREK PART II
So I was going to make a well-structured rec list, but the more I try to organize it, the less I can find a proper order. So I decided to do it from the most recently read fic to the oldest one in my AO3 history.
__________________________________________
Get You The Moon
BY: AClosedFicIsNeverRead
words: 180.785
Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.
- OR - The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart. (You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!) Title inspired by song: ‘Get You The Moon’ by Kina ft. Snow
(This fic is and always will be one of my favorites, it has a really special place in my heart. It has sensitive topics, so I recommend you read the tags, but it's worth going through all the angst to get to the happy ending, because it DOES have a happy ending.)
True Love's Kiss, Attempted Murder
by: cowboilikeme
Words: 120.040
Beacon Hills has never been the most normal of towns, but recently things have been happening that are getting harder and harder to explain. And it's becoming more difficult to keep the supernatural a secret when something newer, darker and scarier comes to town in the shape of a teenage girl. But she is only the beginning to their problems. And what she brings with her is the worst this town has seen in a while. “What’s so bad about getting a ride in this?” Derek sounded like he was smiling, but as beautiful and unbelievable as that sounded, Stiles still refused to look at the man, “It’s a good car.” “Overcompensating?” Stiles ridiculed, knowing perfectly well that there was no way Derek wasn’t packing something impressive. “I think we both know that’s not true,” Derek was smirking when Stiles finally turned to him, if only in shock by the werewolf’s statement. “I think we both know there is no way I could know that,” Stiles winced at how bitter he sounded, but once it was out, there was no point in trying to suck it back up.
(So this is the most recent fic I read, and I loved it, I really loved it too much, and it makes me really sad that it's not very well known or spread, because the characterization that the author puts to the characters is really realistic, it's literally like reading and imagining a different season of teen wolf, it really impressed me too much. I highly recommend this fic, it's very good, and it may have some other unrelated things but they are not very relevant things, it doesn't affect the fic at all. For real, run to read it! and comment what you think! Give the author a lot of love so that he/she continues writing more works of art in this fandom.)
Lead You Home Again
by;GotTheSilver
Words:49,962
The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body. An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.
(I don't know about you, but I have a soft spot for fanfics where Derek and Stiles are childhood friends and grow up together, it's like really exciting to read, because this has a certain degree of canon, because it is known that Derek and Stiles knew each other as children but for some reason they have forgotten it? or decided to avoid it? I don't know, but I do know that you will love this fic, it is tooth rotting fluff, Okay, yes there is anguish, but afterwards everything is so fluff)
Fixing What Has Been Broken
by: JustJim & Useless_girl
Words: 102,205
Derek Hale is dead. That’s something Stiles Stilinski refuses to believe even for a second once he gets the call from his dad. He heads back pissed, because he’s convinced that he can fix that mess with or without the help of his old pack, because it is Beacon Hills we’re talking about. A town where no one stays dead for long. But maybe there’s more to fix along the way…
Or our reply to the Teen Wolf Movie's mess.
(we all know how awful THAT movie was, so our beautiful authors use their talents to fix that terrible movie and give us this wonderful fanfic that is everything it should be, we have mpreg (yes beautiful, and beautiful mpreg that explains Eli's precious existence) we have a little bit of feral derek (I know, we all love when derek gets a little bit feral) and we have a damn happy ending which is the best of all.)
Lock All The Doors Behind You
by:entanglednow
Words: 25,960
He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.
(Yes, sorry, I really do have a guilty pleasure for feral derek, it's just that it's the moment where Derek allows himself to be honest with himself and his feelings, without so many complex thoughts that prevent him from acting on his instincts. And yes, his instincts always tell him that Stiles is his safe place, his anchor, he likes his smell and basically follows him everywhere because he likes him.)
don't know what i'm supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you)
by: crazyassmurdererwall
Words: 30,926
Stiles sees dead people. Yep. Seriously. (He’s got this. He’s totally got this. So what if one of them is Derek’s mom?)
(This one may seem funny (which it is) but it also has some sad backstories, it's actually a light and very entertaining read, you guys are going to love it, you'll probably get frustrated (like me) that Stiles doesn't tell Derek what's wrong. I really recommend it, those scenes with Talia are painful and beautiful.)
It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real
by: waterella
words: 32,741
“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.
(This is very funny, and just read it it's good, My favorite parts are where Derek keeps making excuses and Stiles only accepts them because they both want to keep kissing.)
The Price
by: theroguesgambit
Words: 18,452
Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.
(you guys have no idea how good this fanfic is, please please do yourself a favor and go read it right now, it's painful to read but i promise it has a happy ending for derek and stiles.)
Getting Better
by: The BadassIsIn
Words: 205,156
The season 4 rewrite absolutely no one asked for where Stiles actually deals with his trauma from the nogitsune instead of being a-ok with it all and added Sterek.
(So this is quite therapeutic to read, seeing how both boys deal with their traumas and get better together, it's really nice to read, but of course there is angst, but it has a happy ending, so don't worry, I would never recommend a fic that didn't have a happy ending for Der and Stiles. So feel free to go read it and cry a little, get emotional and feel like a band-aid is put on your hearts as you see how our boys finally deal with their traumas.)
i fell into the moon
by: Iscar123
Words: 234,122
Laura Hale is arrested hours after returning to Beacon Hills. Derek Hale returns to town to bring his sister back home and together they are drawn into the mystery of a rogue wolf on their family land. They also can't seem to stop bumping into the Sheriff's son, Stiles. Laura is determined to make Stiles her new best friend and Derek just wants everyone to survive so he can get the hell out of the town that took everything from him. Stiles just wants everyone to be happy.
(If you like fics where Laura appears, I really recommend this one, because Laura and Stiles become an amazing duo against Derek, it's very funny, but I recommend you read the one shot from where this fic is inspired first, it's very good too. Derek using his charm with Stiles is my favorite thing ever.)
can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?
by: whiry
Words: 120,369
here's something strange about Beacon Hills. Stiles can't really put his finger on it, but the way certain classmates look at him at school and the way certain adults look at him in the grocery store has him curious. And it's not the sort of pitying looks that his mom's coworkers used to give him, but these ones are longer, more searching, like they're looking for something. Not to mention the weird noises that sometimes come from the woods when he runs, too human to be animal and too animal to be human. Plus the way the Hales have seemed to sequester themselves to the wild and give Stiles serious Cullen family vibes. But Stiles, like everyone else apparently, ignores it. Until it becomes too great to ignore and he has to investigate for himself and find out what is actually going on in Beacon Hills. +++ Or, the one where Stiles and Derek meet, hate each other, slowly get to know one another, and fall totally head over heels for each other all while avoiding curious classmates, an angry ex-girlfriend, and, oh yeah, imminent death.
(If you like alternative universe- High School fics like I do, then you have to read this one, plus the entire Hale family is alive, and the werewolves are revealed, and Derek and Stiles have this awkward crush on each other that slowly develops. You HAVE to read this, it's spectacular. And cora is cora haha)
Molten
by: sugareey & wolfspurr
Words: 27,896
"Stiles, is that you?" He recognizes that voice. He doesn’t know why he’s hearing it here though, in whatever cold, dark cave he’s found himself in. The owner of that voice is supposed to be miles away, back home in Beacon Hills. Unless Stiles is the one that’s ended up further from home than he could possibly have predicted. "Derek?!"
(I like fics where Derek and Stiles are put in a cave or cage, and they only have each other to get out of that scary situation, but Derek's wolf always ends up very attached to Stiles. This is kind of like that.)
Spellbinding Mishap
by: Wasterella
Words: 45,855
Stiles winced, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked over at Derek again. “So... you know how you told me not to touch anything?” Derek stared at him for a second, not seeming to understand, and then Stiles knew the moment it clicked because his entire face set so concretely it might as well have been carved out of stone. “What?” Scott asked, looking between them, confused. “What’s going on? I don’t understand. What happened?” “Yeah,” Stiles said slowly. “So the thing is, I uh, touched something. In the Witch’s house. And Derek came in and grabbed it from me. So he also touched it. And now it uh, it seems like whenever the two of us are a certain distance apart, we start getting sick. Or like, double over in pain. Or, you know, start dying.”
(Derek and Stiles are cursed and consequently can't be away from each other, so if you want to have a laugh, you can read this fic.)
Not So Boring
by: wasterella
Words: 69,062
“It was an accident!” Stiles continued, trying desperately to explain that this was all a huge misunderstanding and that the Demon clearly had to cut him some slack here.
It didn’t seem like he would be getting his wish, because the Demon’s annoyance melted into frustrated incredulity and he said dryly, “You summoned me by accident.”
“Yes!” Stiles insisted.
“How is that even possible? How do you accidentally summon a Demon?”
“You know, by accident!” Stiles argued.
“So you accidentally drew the summoning sigil into the floor, and you accidentally had an offering available, and you accidentally stood in the circle while accidentally reading the summoning spell?” the Demon asked dryly.
Okay, well when it was said like that, Stiles could understand the skepticism.
(And I close this rec list with another fic of our beloved westerella, and this is one where derek is a demon and stiles accidentally summons him. And it's really funny honestly, you have to read it, it's great!)
After months and months I finally bring you these recommendations, and I promise to bring you more, but I won't commit to saying that it will be soon.
Please tell me if you've already read any of the fics I put on the list, and tell me what you think of these recommendations, is there anything in particular that you would like me to recommend? Please let me know.
And if you have any to recommend to me, I would really appreciate it, tell me which is your favorite fic and I will read it.
#sterek#derek hale#sterek fandom#stiles stilinski#stiles#derek x stiles#stiles x derek#sterek fic#teen wolf#teen wolf stiles#rec list#fanfic rec#fic rec#you definitely have to read this fic it's painful but worth it#long reads#reading#teen wolf movie#teenwolf#sterek is eternal#stiles/derek#sterek parents#sterek ao3#we loves ao3 writers#long live ao3 writers#ao3feed#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3 link#derek/stiles#eli hale stilinski
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