#even though they took out the kiss scene in the show but bless them for posting a cap of it

[storiesfromafan]

Jealousy Does Look Good On You - Benny x Reader

A/N: this was just me pulling something out of a hat, haha. Bit of writers block right now. But something is better then nothing.

Also, forgive me if this isn't that good. As well as, excuse my attempt at describing their kissing, its been a little haha.

Enjoy.

Tag list: @strayrockette

I wont look at him. I wont look at him. I wont look at him, you chanted over and over in your head. Determined to not pay Benny any mind. It's his choice if he wanted to entertain another woman across the room from you. It's not like you were together, nor his girl.

Your relationship with Benny was undefined, though you thought the striking Vandal was into you just as much as you were into him. But apparently it was just one sided; yours. And now he was showing another woman how to play pool. The very thing that led to you even speaking to Benny in the first place a month ago.

You had seen the raven haired vixen by the jukebox, eyeing up Benny for an hour before making her move. She had started talking to Wahoo and Corky, before Benny got roped in by the two men. From there – as you watched – she moved closer to Benny. Then she got touchy when they talked, laughing at jokes made. And then he was showing her how to play pool.

That was it. You had turned your back to the scene. Your heart not being able to take it any more. The beer you had been nursing, now your best friend. Kathy had been watching you, and the scene with Benny. Shaking her head she couldn’t believe how brazen the woman was, as well as Benny for going there.

“Forget him" Kathy said, shooting daggers at the pool table.

“I'm tryin'” you sighed. “I need another drink".

With that you got up and headed for the bar. Standing with your arms on the counter, you waited to be served. All the while hearing the obnoxious laugh of the raven hair woman. You rolled your eyes, wanting to gag at the sound. Finally you put in an order for two beers – you thought you’d be nice and get Kathy another beer – when an all to familiar body lent on the counter next to you.

Benny bumped his shoulder into yours. “Hi".

“Hi" you replied flatly, keeping your eyes straight. As you know one look at him and you'd be a goner, when you wanted to be mad.

Benny frowned, a confused look upon his face. “Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded your head. “Peachy" – your two beers were place before you, and you grabbed them – “you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company".

And with that you walked off, leaving Benny even more confused then when he stepped up to the bar. Running his hand threw his hair, he was about to follow you, when Corky called him back to the pool table. With a moment of pause, Benny gave in and went back for a new game of pool. All the while trying to work out what was up with you.

“Here" you said placing a beer before Kathy, “thought I'd get ya one".

She thanked you, observing you after watching the icy exchange with Benny. Seeing the blank look upon your face, but eyes telling her how upset you were.

“What was that at the bar?” She asked, all motherly with you.

You sighed. “He came over and said hi. I replied back but I guess he could tell somethin's off, so he asked if everythin' alright”. You took a sip of your new beer.

“Your reply was?”

“Peachy...you better go back to your new friend, she must be missin' your company”. You took another, longer sip.

Kathy's eyes widened as she moved in her seat. “Was that smart?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. But felt good".

She laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah it usually does, until it wears off. Then ya feel like shit".

Again you nodded, taking a sip. “Yes, I know that. I'm feelin' it right now Kathy".

She patted you on the back. “I know. But do your best to not think about it. I doubt Benny is interested in her, I know he only has eyes for ya". She gave you a wink and a soft smile.

All you could do was give her a weak smile. God bless her for trying to cheer you up. But to be honest, you could understand why Benny would go for Raven locks. She was beautiful, dressed like she belonged here, and was confident. Everything you weren’t. You weren't an ugly duckling, but you weren't on her level. You were more of a young Doris Day, while she gave Marilyn Monroe.

After the exchange at the bar, Benny kept his distance. And that added to your despair. You really did shoot yourself in the foot. You stole looks from time to time. They looked comfortable standing next to each other. You even saw her rest her head on his shoulder with a giggle. But what put an end to the night for you was watching her wrap her arms around his neck in joy when she won a game of pool.

“I'm done" you informed Kathy gathering your cardigan and bag. “I can’t do it anymore. I'm headin' out”.

She frowned at you but understood. “Ya want to get a cab together?”

You shook your head. “Nuh, I'm good. I think a walk would be good. But thanks” you gave her a small smile. “Have a good night".

With that you moved through the bar, around various Vandals till you made it the main doors. The cool night air hit you, so you put on your cardigan, slinging your bag over your shoulder. With the briefest of a look in both directions, you crossed the road and began to head down the street. It would be a good twenty minute walk back to your place, if you walked at a decent pace. But with how you were feeling, a slow stroll would be your pace tonight.

Of course your mind thought about Benny, and how the night had gone. Usually when you came to the bar he would play a few rounds of pool before joining you and Kathy. He'd sit next to you, arm resting on the back of your chair. You both would share looks, you’d admire his beautiful blue eyes and killer smile. Or watch when he would smoke a cigarette. You'd watch him take a drag, hold it and admire how he would let the smoke out. As well as his hands, his fingers holding the cigarette so gently.

Other times you would lionize his arms. Noting his muscles and how they react to his movements. Or study the random tattoos that adorn those arms. But you'd always go back to Benny's face, taking in his stunning features. His strong jaw line that was covered in stubble. His cheek bones and full lips. And the messy blonde locks upon his head, just beginning to have a hand run threw them.

But here you were, walking home miserable and hearthaching. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back. Just until you got home, and were safely behind a close door to finally breakdown. For you knew you were partially to blame. You probably pissed Benny off with your words. Or he didn't care, and took your words as a pass at the other woman. Either way, it didn't help you.

Turning right down a street littered with shops, you made sure to stay in the light and away from any allays. You weren't going to take any chances of some creep grabbing you. Maybe it might have been smart to get a taxi after all.

The closing in sound of a motorbike caught your ears, but you didn't pay it any mind. Too focused on wallowing in self pity and getting home. Hearing it slow down, before stopping by the curb caused you to panic a little. Why would someone stop near you, when the street was empty. You decided to pick up the pace, clutching your bag.

It was when a large, calloused hand grabbed your arm, did you jump and make a scared sound. They held onto you tightly when you tried to pull away. Then they pulled you back around, and you were met with concerned baby blues looking at you.

“Hey, it's only me" Benny said in a calm voice.

Hearing his voice you relaxed a little, letting yourself take a few slow breaths to calm your racing heart.

“What are ya doin' walkin' home, let alone, at this time of night, doll?” Benny asked, letting go of your arm to place his hands on your shoulders.

You shrugged. “Seemed like a nice night for a walk?”

Benny gave you a sharp look, not buying your words. “Really, what's goin' on (Y/N)?”

“I told ya” you replied stepping out of Benny's grasp.

“I don't buy it. Tell me what's wrong”.

You sighed, “nothin' alright. I am fine, perfectly peachy”.

He groaned. “There’s that damned word again”.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “What, peachy?” – Benny nodded – “it's a perfectly acceptable word".

He chuckled. “Yeah, you like to use it when you're upset. So what is it this time? Is it the woman at the bar?”

You stood there silent for a moment, processing your response. But from the lack of reply, Benny got his answer.

“No, not at all. You're free to spend your free time with whom ever ya like” was what you went with. Not a very strong reply, but its all you got.

Benny laughed loudly. “Jealously sure is a cute colour on you".

Your shot him a dark look, moving your hands to rest on your hips. “I am not jealous Benjamin Cross! Far from it!”

With that you turned on your heel and started to storm off, leaving Benny to laugh some more. But upon realising you were seriously annoyed, he took off after you. He tried to get to you to stop, even offered to give you a ride home. Which you refused.

“Come on, it's quicker and safer if I get ya home” Benny stated, following closely.

“I'm fine. I'd say its more worrisome to be with a Vandal” you retorted.

That hurt Benny. And it was a low blow, you know. But he irked you. So, your words were justified.

“Come on, please let me take ya home” Benny sighed, before he got a bad idea. “The quicker I get ya home safely, the quicker I can get back to the bar and that woman".

That was it. You stopped, before turning around in a flash. Anger and hurt shone in your eyes.

“If its that so important go back now! I said I am fine!” You said with a raised voice. “She seemed to like ya too, from how she was practically in ya arms or in ya lap! Don't mind me, I'm just stupid to think I stood a damn chance. But, like usual, I am-”

You didn’t get to finish your rant. For Benny – amused by your dummy spit – grabbed your arm and pulled you in, his lips silencing you with a kiss. He moved his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb caressing the soft skin. You were in shock. Benny was kissing you. He kissed you to stop you from talking.

He pulled back, looking down at you from under his eyelashes. “Ya good?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it. How does one speak after that? But your eyes told him that you were trying to wrap your head around what just happened. He saw shock, confusion and a small flicker of hope.

“What-why?” You sputtered out.

Benny chuckled, moving his hand so he could caress your jaw with his thumb. “Ain't it obvious? I kissed ya".

“W-why?!” You choked out.

Benny found this version of you amusing and adorable. “Because I wanted too, I’ve wanted to for weeks now. But I've been afraid too".

You looked into Benny's eyes, trying to work out why he would be afraid. So you asked that question. Waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“I was worried ya didn't like me, like I like ya, doll” he said softly. “But seein’ your reaction to Angela" – so that's the raven vixens name, you thought – “I got my answer; ya do".

You titled your head, giving him a sharp look. “Yeah, well...you could be wrong".

Benny chuckled, running his thumb down your lips. Letting it linger, pulling down your bottom lip. “Oh, I know I'm right. And if I was to kiss ya again, I know for a fact, you’ll kiss me back, doll".

“Ha. Try me” you retorted, a challenge.

With a small smirk, Benny moved in and captured your lips once. This kiss was harder. His hand holding your chin, as his tongue swept along your bottom lip. Without a thought, you opened your mouth, giving him victory. Benny's tongue entered, finding your tongue and caressed it with his own. He didn't waste time deepening this kiss, both of you had wanting this for so long.

Eventually Benny pulled back, you chasing his lips. He laughed at how kiss drunk you were. The way you opened your eyes and looked up at him, had him wanting to groan from how good that looked on you. He continued to caress your jaw with him thumb, as he rested his head against your forehead.

“I was right” he sighed. “Firstly, jealously does look good on you” – you softly scoffed – “And secondly, I was right ya would kiss me back”.

“Yeah, yeah...” you mumbled.

Benny pulled back with a chuckle. “Come on, let's get out of here".

With that you let Benny pull you to his bike. Once he was on and the bike was running, Benny helped you on to sit behind him. Settled in and your arms around his waist, be pulled away from the curb. No intention to take you home yet. For now, he wanted to spend time with his girl. Time he didn't get earlier.

[happypotato48]

Wandee Goodday EP 5 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts

Finally it's brainrot saturgay. we're back with a dumb homo, himbo bisexual, the cutest domestic hubbies in existence, tired acesexual eyebrows, and dr. 666 himself (i still can fix him!)

Well well well if it isn't the look of a dumb whore who is in too deep with this fake relationship. Dee i know you already imagine a nice big house with 2.5 kids, 2 dogs and 1 cat future with this man... oh wait that's me nvm then.

i bet Yak also remembers how many HJs, BJs, and all the other Js he received.

Oh hi baby i've missed you so much. now save these morons from themselves with the power of poorly made sextumes.

You took too long, now your candy's gone, that's what happened!

He's so happy how well his sextumes are received. Ahhhhhhh! he so cute! i can't, i RAK him so much, this eyebrows is my everything.

ตาคิ้วหนาาาา!!

I will be joining @lurkingshan in the recovery ward of saint framboise, hospital for the gays and the gals. and i'm expect many more will be joining us soon. for this scene is a mass casualty incident.

Why are you both still has thoes things on your heads. my first instinct in this kind of situation is probably to get rid of the very noticible kinky headband on my head. forking amatures.

Kawaii Dick!! i name him dick-kun.

Karma sure is a funny bitch. her comedic timing is impeccable.

God bless this mess.

Ok this show finally made me cave in and bought that tacky elapant pants that i used to associated with foreign tourists. turn out they are very comfy. man, i shouldn't let white people dictated my fashion sense. live and learn i guess.

Speaking of fashion sense. this look is definitely not working for you Yak.

Can you blame him! i too would be this cray if i have someone as hot as Yei as my bf.

My money is on a loan shark. i will forgive you for this one lie, Oye.

I have to remind myself sometime that i was not like other kids. cause i definitely would be bored out of my mind with this kind of stuff as a kid.

Two dick jokes in a row. NICE!

I can still fix him! no really i can i just need the right tools.

I love that even though i saw these two fucked each other nasty before. the anticipation of them kissing is still very much present.

This is a nice intermediate ep, not a lot happened but we get to spent more time with Yak and Dee growing their 100% not fake Boyfriendship. they had both met each others close families, very involved in each other lives. and emotionally supported each other. they're good together and they started to realized that. the many looks of Dee "oh shit" is already gave me all the angsts. and from the preview shit totally gonna hits the fan next ep and i can't wait for someone (hopefully Ai Phi Ter) to get punch.

[tonydaddingham]

lmao guess whos activated ✨blathering oaf mode✨ again (clue: its me)

(cut because length and spoilers, read at your own peril)

so this post got me spiralling into detective mode again and yes i know douglas suggesting it might have been war/pollution but i have certified trust issues™ and i dont believe that for one darn second

BUT

i also don't think it's a kiss. lemme explain horrifically

so i took another look at the two frames we have of The Leaked Smooch™ and the background has a lot to be desired (if you take into account that the boys are taking up most of the frame (duh), plus already fairly average quality video PLUS compression from when i captured it)

but i think we can safely rule out that The Leaked Smooch™ doesn't happen in the theatre here, mainly because even though the quality is bad, the glasses in the Smooch™ are crowley's modern ones, not the ones we saw him wear in the 1941 flashback in s1, plus his hair is differently styled... so yes can pretty confidently say this is not the kiss we are looking for

so i wanted to pinpoint what era the theatre bit is actually set in, and therefore i set about identifying the theatre in question. turns out kids that im not a good researcher (despite it literally being my job) so it took FUCKING AGES but i eventually found set photos of the boys entering a theatre, specifically the hippodrome in bo'ness:

now this was a turn-up for the books, because that's crowley's 1941 costume right??? id recognise that iconic fit anywhere. az's costume is trickier to pinpoint bc he wears the same damn thing but pretty sure this is a match to the church scene:

so we know from s1 that we have the church scene yada yada, and crowley offers aziraphale a lift home... which we know he accepts given that the s2 trailer gives us the ✨Dinner of '41✨ scene:

the other bit however to this puzzle is that there ALSO a set pic of aziraphale at the hippodrome in his magician's outfit. given the frame from the trailer where he looks like he's about to brick it going on stage, surrounded by lovely burlesque girlies and dame siân phillips in period dress, AND there were extras on the set dressed in ww2-type army uniforms, so i think it can be fairly surmised that this bit also occurs in the 40s

so my thought process is that we're getting two separate scenes (kinda) from the 40s, we have the church bit from s1 plus the Dinner of '41 scene as its own entity, but then, like

aziraphale is doing his magic act as a side hustle to this burlesque show? and crowley turns up to watch him, hiding out up in the box?

if we follow this completely made up narrative ive just come up with, aziraphale, im assuming, finishes up and gets changed into his normal clothes, and then goes up to this box to meet crowley?

to this end, i captured and slowed down the bit in the opening sequence where aziraphale and crowley (sorry douglas, not buying it) are in the box... and-

now to my eye, the motion of them in the clip looks like they are dancing? i don't have the source to hand but we've had it confirmed that a choreographer was brought into s2, not impossible az would go up to meet crowley after his magic act, whilst there's still something going on on the stage, and the two end up dancing or something? and az bless his heart gets spooked from that?

im reasonably convinced that this might be the origin of the 'you go too fast for me' line - something happens and ultimately aziraphale gets spooked given that he's only just realised he has Feelings for crowley, and so my boy fucking legs it (a lil post i made a while ago about this exact scenario if you'd care to peruse)

other thing to note:

there is a figure that is lurking behind aziraphale and crowley in the box, which looks like it moves specifically in sync with crowley, so it could be a shadow, or someone/thing is in the box that they aren't aware of 👀 so maybe this thing (?) witnesses it all? whatever went down in the box?

so in my addled feral mind, ive come up with a speculation that even as im breathing life into it sounds unhinged and so implausible it's hilarious -

i put to you, members of the jury, that something was meant to happen in that box, and it didn't... that something being that crowley makes a move of some kind - kiss, dance, hug, declaration, WHATEVER - and aziraphale was meant to accept it/reciprocate/idk, but didn't.

and that fucks with the plan, and for lack of better terminology creates a nexus event (lmao thanks loki) which in turns starts screwing with other events, somewhat like i theorised in this post here tehe

are aziraphale and crowley, essentially, the earth's endgame? idk about u but ive read enough angst fics to know that it's not inconceivable that crowley and aziraphale's mere existence may have been part of god's plan to represent free will on earth, defend humankind, and give balance and meaning to it

so what would happen if aziraphale essentially rejected that? did the most human thing possible and resisted the plan? idk i feel at this point i am just writing a fic and this will all be ludicrously incorrect bUT half the fun is torturing yourself over your own theories right 🙃

[devisrina]

i wasn’t in the bear fandom last year, were fans this divided on the idea of carmy/sydney being a slow burn after last season? it seems like there are a lot of c/s shippers (but maybe i'm in a c/s bubble) but it also seems like there are a LOT of anti-c/s people and they’re pretty aggressive about it. some of the comments I’ve seen on twitter and instagram are unlike anything i’ve ever seen about a fandom ship. like if people don’t ship them that’s fine but it’s like they’re mad that some people do? it’s so weird and it also makes me wonder if it will have any influence on the writers. i also wonder if the overwhelmingly negative reaction to claire (like people spoofing their scenes on tiktok lmao) will have any influence like will they bring her back and flesh her out or just phase her out. like i wonder how reactions after last season may have influenced where they took the story this season?

I actually joined this fandom this year lol, so I'm probably not the best person to ask.

Attention! Attention! @gingerylangylang1979, @kdbleu, @abriaashley, @ribbon-of-brine, @hauntedstrawberrygiver please, help a sister out with this anon's question. "Was The Bear fandom this divided on the prospect of Sydcarmy/chefs kiss during season 1?"

I did join a month and a half before season 2 dropped though. So I have some kind of idea of how it was.

I think it wasn't this divided, but mostly because there were not many arguments about it. The people who didn't ship them didn't really pay attention to the people who did. But, the group of sydcarmys were significantly smaller because very few saw the potential after season 1.

Although, whenever it did get mentioned on Reddit, people would quickly shut the idea down. A lot of people would say that this show wasn't really for romance, that Carmy was very ace coded, and there were a few people thinking that Sydmarcus was more probable.

On tiktok, there weren't many videos. There was this one girl (bless her soul) who made this video about them and it was very nice to have someone validate your ship.

So, mainly Tumblr was the only platform you could go on where people wanted Sydcarmy to become canon.

Also, I don't think there was much mention of them on Instagram. Aside from this one comment a sydcarmy shipper made about wanting them to get together, it sparked some really mundane controversy.

Yeah, the amount of discourse on this ship is so outlandish to me. I had never really come across this dispute for a ship before. And, this ship doesn't even feel like a crack ship because it has all the basis and components to work as a slow-burn.

I doubt that the writers would let the anti-Sydcarmys influence the fate of them though. Incels on Reddit constantly harp on Sydney, but that doesn't mean that they're going to take her out of the show.

Also, Carmy/claire felt like it was meant to be temporary, so I'm just going to go by that.

I do feel like they are going to work towards the direction of Sydcarmy despite what they were saying before.

[youre-where-i-wanna-go]

My YouTube account just reached 1k subscribers so now I'm gonna make a list of the coolest Angela Bassett video finds I've found and shared on there and how I found them (even if the target audience here is only like one person)

Mr. & Mrs. Smith deleted scenes

Gonna start with the most recent find bc I never thought this footage would see the light of day. They shot all these scenes and only 30 seconds of Angela's voice made it to the movie bc the villains were dropped completely. Turns out the footage had been hiding on the second disc of an unrated special edition DVD release all along.

Old TV Commercials (KFC, Equal, Allstate)

These commercials you're really only able to find if you know what you're looking for. And the way I found out was through interviews in which they were mentioned (one was a newspaper clipping from 1991 that mentioned Equal and Allstate). Then it's watching tons of old commercials from those brands on YouTube until finally Angela's pretty face shows up. So grateful to the people who uploaded them first (even if they didn't mention Angela in the description).

Doubletake & Liberty

There are quite a few movies and shows in Angela's filmography that seem impossible to find. And some of them are really not available to watch anywhere unless you pay private sellers to send you the files. That's what I had to do to unearth these two rare gems. [insert Thanos gif iykyk] but no regrets because I really wanted to see them. Still hoping to find Equal Justice, STAT and the full Ryan's Hope episode

Ryan's Hope clip

Which brings me to the next tiny (very tiny) gem. For some time I had my doubts she was actually ever even in this soap opera. That was until I watched the Oscar's red carpet 2023 and they aired this super short clip of her character. Next to Angela's dress and Gaga's performance that was my highlight of the night.

My Man Bovanne

Talk about credits that aren't even on her IMDb. I found out about her role in this in the Playbill of Joe Turner's Come and Gone (which Angela starred in on Broadway in 1988). Made an account for the one website that hosted this little-known-about short film to be able to screenrecord it. That was a happy day. Fun fact I learned in a newspaper clipping since: Angela only got to be in it because the person who was first cast for her role got sick.

HeartBeat

Another one that took me very, very long to find. This is probably the one I had to use the most detective skills for. Found a dead video on a site that used to host it, tried to look up the account owner on other social media channels and finally found their tumblr that was still active (hooray) and they sent me the file. Best day ever (even though the plot of the episode is really heartbreaking).

Angela talking about kissing Gaga to Access Hollywood

Listen... Listen. If you know me, you know that these two are my QUEENS. They are everything to me and the fact that they played lovers? That they kissed and enjoyed it? Means the world (read my fanfiction on AO3 😉). This interview in particular has only been available as an article to read on their website for many years now but I could never find the video. I wanted to hear Angela say how she kissed Gaga and pulled her in and told her I love you when the director called cut and made Gaga jump. I found an old link to a long deleted YouTube video in an old tweet on one of my many Twitter searches for any trace of this video. Bless the person who uploaded it back then and bless the people who shared it on Twitter and bless the person who backed it up in the Wayback Machine. I owe you all eternal gratitude.

A 17-minute interview about Ruby's Bucket of Blood

DVD extras hold many gems and this is one of the biggest Angela-focused special features on a DVD I've seen. According to a friend who bought the DVD much longer ago, it wasn't even always part of it so I feel very blessed that this came with my DVD that I only bought bc it's one of my favorite movies and I like to collect those on physical copies.

Her Boyz n the Hood audition tape

In a newspaper clipping I read that this has actually been a part of physical releases of this movie since they still put out Laser Discs. But somehow I've never seen it surface online. I found it in a torrent that had all the Bluray special features (the best kind of torrents) and decided to share it of course. It has since gone viral on TikTok (where someone reposted it) which made me very happy. Who thought we'd ever get to see Ms. Angela Bassett audition??

Celebrity Poker Showdown

You have to admit, Angela in a reality game show is just gold. Was looking for this for a long time too and eventually found a Russian torrent (thank you Russians). Was luckily able to share the full episode on YouTube so everyone can get the full experience of "Angela folds" ten times in a row 😁

Angela's full performances of 3 songs on Close to the Enemy

[I only linked one here] Angela's character on Close to the Enemy was unfortunately very small but the British DVD release had extended scenes of 3 of her performances on it. [The American Bluray for some reason didn't.] Glad I found out about these.

1993 Fresh Air radio interview

I don't know if this counts as a rare find as it is freely available on the NPR website and in my university library BUT I have never seen it acknowledged until I shared it on YouTube and let me tell you I put blood, sweat and tears into captioning this 16-minute interview 😭 the payoff was grand. One interviewer from Variety used it in her research and mentioned it to Angela (who couldn't even remember it lmao) and part of the audio was also used in a tribute post the Academy (yes the Oscar Academy) did for her birthday. It's not my interview but I know they wouldn't have done so if it wasn't for my video (that I posted in tribute to the great Tina Turner. RIP.)

(Assumably) all her episodes of Search for Tomorrow

If I'm not mistaken this was her first on-camera acting job and a cool guy posted all her episodes (and hundreds of episodes she wasn't in) on YouTube last year. Luckily I downloaded them all right away as his channel no longer exists. Her episodes are safe on my hard drive tho and her scenes are safe on my YouTube channel :)

I was going to share a link to the unaired pilot of Identity (2011) that someone posted but it's already been privated again. Might post her scenes at some point, in the meantime if you're interested in this episode you can always dm me, I saved it to my hard drive. Very exciting find indeed as I also never expected it to see the light of day.

Honestly I get excited over every interview, DVD extra, speech or segment from a TV special that I come across (especially old ones). Sharing these on my YouTube channel is my pride and joy and I also have a scenepack account on Instagram (@/angelabassettscenes) where I share all her scenes from her bigger projects that I can't share to YouTube for everyone who wants to watch, edit or GIF them. Seeing people get as excited as I do when I share my finds makes me so happy and I'm definitely not done. Many DVD featurettes still to come. Angela's work will be preserved on this channel by any means necessary 😌

If you've read this far, thank you for reading and have a good day/night

[thegeminisage]

THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY breakdown

as always i am transcribing the little notes i took on my phone during the experience

the three things i knew about this film before i started were 1. valeris secret villain? some kind of mind-meld forced on spock? 2. worf's grandpa 3. kirk and bones sentenced to hard labor on planet hoth. other than that i went in blind

im glad they opened with CAPTAIN!!! sulu. i feel like he couldnt be there during filming but im so relieved he got parts anyway <3

also quite shocked to see janice rand?! god bless. she was like, i've undergone so much unbelievable bullshit. lemme get that star trek money. and then she did <3

the ship shaking in this movie was VERY realistic. the m,ost realistic yet. idk why they would have glass tecups in this situation though...maybe they just like to watch them break dramatically

uhura is still so beautiful in this movie. i don't know how she gets more beautiful in every star trek thing she appears in but she did it 6 times in a row. queen

first cry of the evening was when spock showed up but it was a SHORT cry because i had just cried about him in tng two days ago.

loved his little domestic spat with kirk at the beginning. the giant space between them. doing it in public. the absolute death glares. who's in the woodshed NOW (sorry for saying woodshed)

kirk being racist was an unexpected detail but i get it. you gotta have somebody being racist to nail home this story's message or whatever. i just figured it'd be bones. then again the klingons didn't kill his kid

that one bald klingon who kept eyefucking everybody he looked at. king. i know the phrase eyefucking is out of date because we overused it but there is simply no other way to describe it. he was there to leer at men suggestively and recite a batshit amount of shakespeare. and he did a great job

i had so much fun playing spot the tng set. they kept those rooms SO dark so we wouldn't recognize them but i did anyway.

the anti-gravity scene was SO so so so cool and good. like, the 90s cgi purple pepto bismol blood took me out of it a little but we have been saying every time something fucked up their little ship "how is the gravity still on rn." and the answer, always, is "it's on bc no-grav scenes cost money." FINALLY we got a no gravity scene. such a profound sense of both awe and closure

the violence was shockingly gorey too. like we had severed arms and real blood flying everywhere. idk that any of the trek i've watched so far has been quite that explicit

the scene where bones tries to save the klingon high chancellor. 10/10. bones the healer begging to be allowed to save lives. him jumping straight up onto that table and straddlign that man. him digging his hands into all that klingon blood. what a fine moment. it was a little homoerotic of that guy to grab kirk in the spiderman kiss pose as he was dying too

sarek cameo <3 it felt weird to see him alive right after he died

i did wonder why they didn't just have saavik in this film instead of valeris...i guess that saavik fans would have been mad if the send-off for the character was to make her a backstabber. but it would have felt more believable that spock be blind to her passions because she was also his protege. it also would've made the mind meld (WHICH. WOW. GETTING TO THAT) all the more tragic. valeris does a great spock eyebrow but she's not as compelling as saavik and she doesn't have the backstory so even if i hadn't had the spoilers i would have suspected her

things i didnt like: that one colonel guy saying terrorism and mr scott saying bitch. watch your mouth, gentleman.

the trial was fine (i still have trial fatigue) but i find it hard to believe klingons dont have tear ducts. what if they get something in their eyes? i loved seeing worf. i loved bones's little arthritis joke. frail little old waif of a man <3

kirk getting his ass handed to him over his personal logs is why you don't make personal logs. even funnier: their thing where they were like yeah but he has a record of [lists 1000000 crimes kirk has committed]. that was funny because it was true.

i love when they put dogs in costumes

bones collapsing in that blizzard was my ONE AND ONLY HOPE for this movie. i needed him to do it so bad so i could round out my collection and he did not let me down. true consistency. authenticity. king behavior. me when i go north fr

unexpected: both the cigar and the hot alien lady. i don't know what either of them were even doing there. she literally macked on kirk right in front of bones's salad. idk if we can count this as a close encounter though considering how short it was

i loved kirk's little fight where he nutshotted the alien. and their little prison outfits. and them snuggling up on bed together to stay warm <3 also bones being like and one day PFFFT kobayashi maru, that's it! quintessential bones behavior.

AMANDA GRAYSON RELATED TO SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE??? cmon.

mixed feelings about the shapeshifter. double kirks was great (once again: william shatner plays a woman) and hilarious especially when they smooshed poor bones. double especially when she was like yeah well i bet you always wanted to kiss yourself anyway. that little girl giving kirk a saucy wink was maybe less fun. it would have been a close encounter if they'd fucked i guess

spirk talking in the hall and their faces were soooo close together

spock's forced mind meld: i thought this was something done TO him, not something HE DID. imagine my shock. there's a little mirror spock in him after all. it was absolutely fucking ruthless. i have a little pet theory that everyone in the mirrorverse is really the same - it's only their circumstances that turned them into monsters. it's not always viable and it's not always as fun as them just being evil and edgy, but this does lend it evidence <3

spock "i've been dead before" absolute king.

the conference at khitomer!!!! the foreshadowing.........

spirk's conversation in spock's quarters in the dark...mwah. "the night is young" "i find that remark insulting" "i need you" i wish they had talked about valeris but this was still really good. bones should have been there.

TORPEDO SURGERY! IT'S AN AOS REFERENCE! aos bones is a damsel because he couldn't operate on the torpedo.

loved kirk's GET DOWN MRS OBAMA moment and he got to have one twice in a row and then pull the mask off that guy like he was a scooby doo villain. incredible.

you've restored my father's faith / you've restored my son's...wah. i didn't really care about david but i'm glad he got closure about it or whatever.

then the klingon slow clapping. incredible.

spock cussing and saying go to hell <3

"soon the enterprise will have a new crew" yeah a worse one. i did like the switch from no man to no one though during that final monologue. just subtle enough <3

I DID CRY AGAIN AT THE END.....................it was a very sweet ending. second star to the right and straight on til morning. i'm glad sulu got to say goodbye even on webcam he was such a g this film. i'm gonna miss them SO MUCH.

i now know spock's ENTIRE LIFE STORY except whatever happens in snw that i dont care about <3 if i wasnt busy it would have huge fanfic potential. give me time i guess.

[whackerz-blog]

my girl addy...a bisexual...y'all

[yuumoriarty]

SPENDING VALENTINE'S DAY WITH THE MORIARTY THE PATRIOT CHARACTERS: 221B BOYS EDITION!

tags: gn!reader x sherlock holmes; gn!reader x john watson.

warnings: none (this is mostly fluff).

SHERLOCK HOLMES

let me tell you this man has zero clue about what to do on valentine's day LMAAOOOO

you were the first person he's ever been in a relationship with

i mean yeah sure he'd allow you to tag along whenever he was working on a case

THE PROUD LOOK ON HIS FACE WHEN YOU NOTICE DETAILS HE HAS MISSED I SWEAR THIS MAN WOULD PEPPER YOUR FOREHEAD WITH KISSES ENDLESSLY

ANYWAYS MOVING ON he knows how special of a day valentine's day is and wants to spend the entire day with you

he wanted to write you a poem about how much he loved you yet his literature skills were not just up to par with his deduction skills

and so he sought out john's assistance

BLESS THAT MAN ALWAYS AT THE READY TO HELP SHERLOCK AT HIS TIME OF NEED

"i just couldn't figure out what to give y/n, john! they're the most special person i have ever met and i want them to know how much i love them, but i can't figure out what to do!"

john decided to unfurl the crumpled letters that littered sherlock's study and smiled at his bestfriend's attempt at wanting to be poetic, even for once

john helped sherlock write a letter to you the idea of a poem entirely ditched because sherlock was absolutely frustrated about not using the perfect figures of speech to describe you

even sherlock asked miss hudson's assistance to cook dinner and set the dining table up

on his own accord, he went out to the shop to buy you a bouquet of your most favorite flowers

and he even purchased you a necklace with your initial on it

sherlock loves you so much though he may be confused but he's got the spirit

and takes every opportunity he sees to show you how much he really does

when valentine's day came, he set his cases aside just to spend the day with you

you two would go around doing what you won't normally do because of sherlock's occupation being a consulting detective

you would roam around shopping for clothes, or even just walk around and enjoy the sceneries as you talk about your future together

sherlock even introduced you to his older brother mycroft and you were allowed entry into the diogenes club

mycroft would be so proud of sherly for having an s/o

during dinner, miss hudson laid out a glorious feast for you and sherlock

john excuses himself from the scene saying he had an important matter to attend to

he doesn't HE JUST WANTED TO HAVE HIS SHIP SAIL HE'S LIKE THE BIGGEST SHIPPER OF YOU TWO 😭 MISS HUDSON STAYED BEHIND THOUGH SHE ISOLATED HERSELF IN HER QUARTERS TO GIVE YOU TWO SOME PRIVACY AWWWW

as you were finishing up, sherlock nervously gave you the bouquet and the letter he'd prepared for the occasion

and just when you thought the surprise was over, he took out the necklace he had bought earlier that week and put it on you

sherlock apologized profusely if that wasn't the date you pictured with him since he's still trying to learn how to be romantic for you he'd do anything that's how much he loves you

and you couldn't get any words out

you just wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close for a hug

you were just so happy and grateful that despite his lack of knowledge for romance, he was trying and though he might not be the best at romantic actions, he always find a way to show you just how much you mean to him and how lucky he is to have someone as perfect and understanding as you in his life

JOHN WATSON

considering how he wrote the accounts of sherlock's solved cases, you best believe this man knows how to say the words that could make your heart flutter

he loves everything about you: the sound of your laugh was like music to his ears, the way you smiled was brighter than the sun, the way you talked sounded comforting to his ears

he fell for your personality first, your looks were just a bonus

whenever you two meet, he'd always envelop you in a warm hug

valentine's day is no exception

he left sherlock on his own accord for the day

of course sherlock was smirking teasingly at john but was happy that his bestfriend was enthusiastic about his date

john had been working on a gift for you since you two had been together and he figured out that the best day to give it to you was on valentine's

he was so happy to see you and instantly hugged you the minute you were within his reach

john would never fail to make you feel good about your appearance

you'd done something to your hair? he'd compliment that it suits you. you bought new clothes for a particular occasion? he'd comment about how you look stunning in it

he turns into a blushing mess right after, embarrassed that he might have gone overboard and used words that were too flowery

but you loved that side of him i mean to be honest you love all sides of him

for valentine's day, you two would visit your favorite places together and the places in which you two had your dates

you'd share a laugh as you reminisce how awkward it was at first when you were at the beginning stages of your relationship

"remember when you poured too much wine on your glass?" "y/n! that was only because i was entranced with your stories!"

did i mention that this man loves skinship?

he'd be holding your hand in his, smiling fondly at you as he listens to your stories

HE JUST ADORES YOU SO MUCH OKAY

now back to his valentine's gift

as the sun began to set, john invited you over for tea at 221b

while you were in the middle of having your tea, he hurriedly went to his room and went back to you with something hidden on his back

john sheepishly handed you the wrapped object and as you opened it, your eyes welled in tears

he actually wrote a book about your love story

ROMANTIC INNIT

"i know it isn't the most expensive gift there is but -" "john, i love it."

to which he became a speechless, blushing mess once more

and then there was that comfortable silence that settled between you two as you shared a loving look at one another

cue sherlock's untimely entrance breaking this intimate moment with a bang as he entered, jumping around because of a new case

(here's a bonus gif of sherlock and john because my love for these men knows no bounds I ADORE THEIR FRIENDSHIP REGARDLESS OF WHICH ADAPTATION AND I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF FROM MAKING A GIF OF THIS PARTICULAR SCENE)

NOTE: this is the first time that i have done something like this so i don't know if i did this any justice. i'll be posting the moriarty edition next!

[sluttyten]

craving you like the devil craves heaven

summary: you’re a succubus (a female demon that seduces men to death) and you task yourself with seducing someone difficult. enter mark lee, a priest with a vow of celibacy that he’s already struggling with. you think you’ll have some fun. (based off this message from an anon)

length: 8,622

warnings: religious themes, sacrilegious, corruption, demons, priests, oral sex, masturbation, sex

As a newly-made succubus, you wanted to impress your peers and superiors, and therefore decided to challenge yourself by making your first time special and big.

“A priest?” Your direct superior shook her head in disbelief. “Most would start with a regular mortal who is much, much more likely to succumb to sin. Are you sure you want to commit to seducing a priest? You realize they swear to be celibate, and typically they’re committed to destroying demons like you and I?”

You do realize all of those things, but you’re sure if you find the right one you can do it. Not all priests are perfectly perfect and holy.

All it took was a little bit of divine intervention (or rather you intervening in the divine), tapping into that holy line of mortal prayers. A little eavesdropping, careful listening, and at last you plucked the correct line, listening to the reverberating prayers of a holy man dealing with such sinful thoughts, praying for help in remaining faithful to the vows of the priesthood.

It was night in this place where the young priest was. Cool and dark, the air was damp and would surely make you shiver if you were mortal, but the cold didn’t affect a demon like you, nor did the mist as it clung to your eyelashes and the strands of your hair. You stood across the street from the rectory, standing in the shadow of a doorway, gazing up at the faint golden light of a window on the second floor of the holy man’s house.

You could still hear a whisper of his prayers.

“Lord, it’s me, Mark, your servant. I pray you give me the strength to resist these desires, the sinful thoughts.” He prays, and you can almost picture him kneeling with his hands folded before him, head bowed, and lips moving slightly as he repeats the words of Latin prayers.

You decide to study him.

That night you stand there on the street and watch the house, listening to his dreams, and catching glimpses of his neighbors’ dreams, as well as the other two priests who share the home with Mark. And in the morning you shift yourself to match the wall behind you, to continue your observations as the young priest rises and dresses and walks down the street to the church. You watch as he passes through the cemetery tucked behind the church, and he pauses at some of the headstones to straighten flowers or offer a prayer, and then he enters through a side door, and you stand outside, waiting.

Several hours later a crowd begins to arrive, passing inside through the large, ornate front doors, and soon after music swells, voices rise, and you hear the chanting of prayers upon prayers. You watch as Mark emerges from the church among his parishioners, as he smiles and talks and shakes hands with them.

You take special note of the way that his eyes repeatedly flick toward another human, near the same age as himself. You notice the way his eyes follow their movements, how he smiles when they meet his eye.

Ah, this one. That one is the source of the young priest’s sinful thoughts.

You observe as the crowd thins, disappearing from the front steps of the church until it is only the priest speaking to a mother and her toddler that keeps tugging on her hand and crying, and Mark tries his best to pay full attention to her, but the lovely human who has attracted his notice stands a few feet away, holding a folder in their hands.

Eventually as the bell tower above the church chimes the hour, Mark excuses himself from the mother, stating that he has an appointment to get to, and you watch with renewed interest as he leaves the mother and beckons the nervous-looking folder-wielding individual to step back into the church with him.

They pass through the nave of the church—their footsteps echoing up to the vaulted ceiling, through all the empty pews—and bow at the altar before stepping around to the side, and passing through a doorway tucked behind a statue of a saint. They shut themselves away in the priest’s office, and you listen eavesdrop from your hiding place across from the church, a safe distance from all the blessed holiness that would try to keep you out.

You can’t quite hear Mark’s thoughts, but bear enough to it, sensing the fluctuations in his emotions as the parishioner shows him the divorce file, and pleads with him to help them resolve the issues in their marriage to their spouse in a way that won’t end like this.

You can feel Mark’s tension, the conflict within himself. It’s his duty to help. But the desire he feels for this person sitting across from him.... it’s sinful, it goes against his vows.

That night you watch him walk back to the rectory after another mass, several meetings, a meal at the home of one of his parishioner’s. You listen as he prepares himself for bed, as he prays once more for the strength to get passed this way he feels because he knows it’s not right in the eyes of the church and God.

And that night, after Mark’s window has at last gone dark, after he’s fallen into dreams, you decide that your time for first contact has come.

Mark’s dreams are easy to intrude upon. The boundaries upon the rectory, blessed though they may be, are old and worn and leave several gaping holes for you to slip through and into his mind.

What you’re doing isn’t possession. That’s not in your repertoire.

In his dream, you take the form of Mark’s desire. You form the dream into what you require, setting up the scene as being back in his office, that desk between him and you, the future-divorcée’s file open on the desk.

Mark doesn’t notice a thing, he just slips right from his normal dreams into this one, picking up his lines without a skip.

“....and pray to the Lord. You and Alex can get through this. Counseling and prayer works miracles.” Mark says, and just as he’d done earlier in the day, he reaches across the desk and takes the hand sitting there atop the file.

Unlike earlier though, you’re in control of this dream. You’d felt Mark’s mind buzzing when his hand came in contact with the hand of his secret desire, so you turn that to your benefit now, making your first changes.

“I know it’s wrong,” you say in the voice of the divorcee, “But sometimes I think there’s no use saving the marriage. Alex feels one way about it, and I can understand that. Alex could fall in love with someone else and be happier and I want that for my spouse, of course I do. And if I could fall in love too....” Your look up at Mark sitting across from you, his hand still on yours, and the look on your face is one that you put as much want and lust into as you can.

Mark gulps. His fingers twitch against your hand. “Sometimes people fall in love with someone else. A peaceful resolution to a marriage, the dissolvement, annulment.... that can happen and both parties can remarry happily.”

He’s trying so hard, the poor thing. One look into his eyes and you can see the nervousness and excitement, the way his mind is rushing at this news that the person sitting before him might want to look for new love.

“Sometimes the person that we’re meant to be with is actually right in front of us.” You say.

Mark nods, swallows again. You test the waters, stroke your thumb over the back of his hand.

He jolts in his seat and stands, rubbing a hand over the top of his head as he paces over to a water disperser in the corner of the office, and he fills a small paper cup for himself, gulps it down. And you take this as your next opportunity to try to twist this dream to your advantage.

“Father Lee,” you step closer and closer, coming up right behind him.

His hand shakes as he fills the cup again, but before he can quite lift it to his lips, you curl your hand against his, and take the cup, bringing it to your lips and draining it while you look at him. He watches with his lips parted, eyes wide. Mark drinks too—drinks in every detail of you wearing his desire’s face and putting your lips where his had just been. You can hear his adorable thoughts—the innocent rush he gets from thinking that’s like an indirect kiss.

Things are moving too slow now, you can tell that even in a dream, even when you’re offering everything up for him to make the move, Mark won’t take the opportunity. He’s trying too hard to hold back, and you just want to seduce him.

So you push things ahead just a little bit, rearrange the dream to your liking, which is you sitting on the edge of the desk, leaning back on your hands with Mark’s hands on you. He’s got one hand tangled in your hair, the other on your waist, and the overwhelming sexual frustration you taste on his tongue as he kisses you is so fucking sweet.

Mark murmurs your name.

Well, not your name. But the name that belongs with this face. You press closer, kissing him back to make him shut up, to keep him distracted and enchanted by the lust of the dream.

But perhaps doing that pushes it too far.

Mark breaks away, gasping, “No, wait. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Irritation flashes through you, and for a split second your true self shines through.

Mark’s eyes widen and he gasps, the whole dream fluctuates, shaking and tipping to the side, and then you’re ripped back to reality, just a monstrous succubi hiding in the space beneath his bed.

You hold still as Mark staggers to his feet. Bare feet brush across the floor, and you hear him slapping his face, pinching at his inner arms, and then you hear him murmuring prayers again.

“Father, I’m sorry for my sins. Please forgive me.” and “Father purge these demons from my mind.”

You wrap your arms around yourself under his bed and smile. You don’t plan to go anywhere.

Several more days pass and you let Mark be. You even return to Hell for a few days to update your supervisor on your progress, and while it’s not as much as you’d like, they are impressed with your target.

By the time you return to watch Mark again, he seems to have calmed down a bit from that naughty dream you’d given him. You return just in time for him to say his nighttime prayers, and once more you wait for him to fall asleep before you enter his space.

You bring yourself physically into the space—at first incorporeal, but then you manifest a tangible shape that you personally admire for all of your earthly adventures, and you settle in to do your work for the night.

Even with a real body, you’re still light as a breath of wind, so when you climb onto the bed and settle over Mark’s chest, he doesn’t stir. Nor does he do anything as you step into his dreams.

This time you observe the dreams for a moment.

You seem to be in a memory. Mark’s brother and himself when they were younger, riding bikes down a street that fades off into white nothingness at the edges, not that either of the two boys seem aware. The dream shifts naturally from that bike-ride to sitting in a car, the windows rolled down, a night breeze filling the interior and raking its fingers through Mark’s hair. There’s a girl sitting in the seat beside him, talking and smiling and dressed cute with a milkshake in one hand that she pauses her story every now-and-then to take a sip at. A girlfriend or a first love. When she reaches over and lays a casual hand on Mark’s thigh, he jumps a little. It’s close enough to what you need, so you grasp onto it and take control of the dream like you’re the one driving a car.

You wear the dream-girl’s face as easily as you’d worn the one in the last dream. You move her hand higher up his thigh.

Mark turns his head to the side with a sharp inhale, staring at you. And then you realize, startling even yourself, that he’s actually staring at you.

The dream ripples and you can feel it pulling away from you, Mark resisting your attempt to control the dream.

“Who are you?” His voice asks, but the Mark in the dream before you doesn’t move his mouth. The voice echoes and booms from all around you.

Abort. Fleeing a dream, tearing yourself from the web of his mind, abandoning your victim in a situation like this seems like the absolute most perfect idea.

But tragically, it seems impossible.

The dream closes in around you, squeezing tight as if holding you there. You grapple with Mark’s mind, and then suddenly the dream releases, Mark gasps awake, trying hard to suck in breaths against the new weight of you sitting on his chest, a succubi filled with the lust and dream-energy you’d been siphoning from him.

Before you can truly flee, dissolving back to your incorporeal form and slipping out into the free night, Mark’s hand closes around your wrist, and with a strength and agility you didn’t expect, he flips you under him, pinning your form to his bed. Trapping you between his warm body and the firm mattress.

“Who are you?” Mark hisses.

You let your true eyes shine through, hoping that the dimly glowing sulphuric color of them will frighten him into letting you go.

Instead, he reaches into his shirt and draws out a cross on a silver chain. You flinch back into the sheets as Mark asks the same question again.

“I’m here to help you.” You turn your gaze away from the cross, locking your eyes on his. “You’re so loud with your lustful thoughts, and I’m here to help you feel better, to tame your lusty sins.” You buck your hips up, pressing up against his hips.

Mark swallows hard. “I don’t know what you are or what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, so you don’t want to fuck that sexy, soon-to-be singleton you were dreaming about the other night?” You bring your hands up both of his arms until your fingertips are under the sleeves against his biceps. “Oh, Father Lee, don’t you know how sinful that is? What would your fellow priests think? What must He think?”

Mark’s jaw tightens, and he brings the cross closer to your skin. Your body tingles and burns.

“Let me up.” You tell him. He doesn’t budge. “I swear to all things evil, let me up or I’ll scream and moan, transform to look like your secret desire so when your Brothers came running in here all they’ll know is I’m moaning your name, and you’re....”

Mark moves.

“Demon.” He spits the word at you like an insult.

You sit up, fixing your hair, and you wink in his direction. “You got it.”

“Get out.”

“Hey.” You stand, raising your hands innocently. “You’re the one that summoned me here. I’m a succubus, and the amount of sexual frustration radiating off of you was too delicious to pass up.” You lean in and sniff at his neck, just to take the opportunity to make him uncomfortable because he’s cute like that. “I just want to help, to show you that you can still feel good, Mark. And anyway, is it breaking your vows if I was just trying to entice you in your dreams? It’s not real is it?”

Mark shakes his head, taking an unsteady step backwards. “Even thoughts are sins.”

You roll your eyes and sink back down onto the edge of his bed. “That’s such a modern misconception. Back in the early days of your faith, people weren’t quite so... prudish. They had sex, some even saw it as praising Him, thanking him for the goodness of it all. Some people still do, why do you think people scream His name during the throes of ecstasy?”

Mark blushes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m just trying to help.” You reply, leaning back on your hands and looking up at him. “You’re horny, I can feel that. You’re channeling all of your lust toward one unattainable person because they’re married, Mark. Not to mention, they call you Father Lee, which is very unsexy, might I add. But if you would just give in to your dreams, have a hot little dream of making out, getting down and dirty in your office, then that would give you a bit of satisfaction, right? Have a wet dream like you haven’t since you were a teenager? Or at the worst, wake up with a boner, take care of it yourself. You do jerk off still, don’t you, Father Lee?”

Mark frowns at you. “Shut up.”

“Is that a no?” You gasp, sitting up. “Seriously? But you’re still so young, you’ve got all of these hormones, this energy that you need to release. Even if you feel you can’t release it with someone else, do it yourself.”

Mark turns completely away from you then, but you can still see him reflected in the mirror across the room. “Get out.”

His tone is so dour, dark and serious, that you do get out. You flee into incorporeality, still able to observe the look on Mark’s face when he turns around a second later and sees you’re gone, can still see the shape of where you’d say on his bed. He runs his fingers through his hair, and then begins to whisper prayers to his God for forgiveness for his weakness.

You let a few more days pass before you return, scared that coming back too soon would cause too much damage. But several days, you think, gives him time to think more about what you’ve said. You do watch him though, you watch closer than you’d done before, and you see Mark clumsily try to touch himself, as if thinking about what you’d said, but he always pulls his hand away after a moment with a groan of frustration.

On the fifth night since you’d last appeared to him, Mark lingers in his office at the church, pouring over papers, notes from meetings, notices from the parish school. In the yellow half-light cast off by his desk lamp, Mark looks so much older and more tired than anyone should look at twenty-five.

“You need to do something to relax,” you tell him as you manifest right behind his seat, already rubbing at his tense shoulders.

Mark spins his chair around so quickly, he nearly falls out of it. His pupils expand with fear, his chest rising and falling with the surprised, panicked breaths you’d startled out of him.

“How are you in here?” He asks, his eyes darting around the room to the closed door and the latched windows. You know he’s thinking about how the doors of the church are locked (because he’d checked them earlier after the last service for the evening), and then you can see the switch flip in his mind as he starts thinking about how you’re a self-confessed demon currently standing on holy ground. “How are you here?”

You shrug and step around him, sitting on the edge of his desk and plucking a paper from the middle of one of the piles. “It’s easy to be here. I just feel all tingly in all the good places.” You wink at him.

Mark groans and punches the bridge of his nose. “Am I going crazy? Is that what this is? You’re a manifestation of my mental breakdown?”

“Absolutely not,” you laugh. “I’m real. See?”

You take his hand from his face and bring it down between your thighs, close enough that Mark can feel the heat radiating off your skin, but before you can actually make him touch any part of your body, Mark jerks his hand away. You sigh sadly and return your focus to the paper in your hand.

“So, marriage counseling going well for the unhappy couple?” You scan the document which is notes Mark had taken during the counseling session for his crush. “From the looks of it they have issues. The unresolvable kind. Alex just won’t put out, and your sweetheart has needs, huh? But you know all about that, don’t you, Mark?”

Mark snatches the paper out of your hands. “That’s a confidential document.”

You hold out your hand, and right before Mark’s eyes another page from his desk appears in your hand, and this time you read aloud. “When we first got married, we would have sex regularly. At least once a week, usually more.” You raise your eyes to look at Mark. He’s trying so hard not to blush; you wonder how he got through the session. The next few lines of the message are more whining about the current lack of a sex life, and then it’s gets into the sordid, juicy details that you feel certain Mark had struggled to copy down, but had done so for the specific intent of reliving the rush he felt hearing about the sex life of someone he desires.

So naturally you read that part aloud to him as well, and Mark just squirms in his seat. You look up at him and see that he’s definitely blushing, his hands folded as he stares down at them with such a forceful look of concentration, that you’re surprised they’ve not burst into flames. He’s so determined to ignore you, you can hear the prayers racing through his mind.

But when you toe off your shoes and bring a foot up into his lap, you’re amused to find a raging erection hiding there. Mark shudders as the sole of your foot caresses him. His hands untwist, and one moves to your calf, curling around it, but he doesn’t push you away. Not as you keep moving your foot over him like this. His eyelids flutter.

You don’t dare speak, just let the silence hang in the room as you rub Mark’s erection with your foot, his hand on your calf, the other clenching into a fist on the arm of his chair. His lips part, small sweet-sounding sighs falling free. His eyes close, head dropped back against the headrest of his fine leather seat, and his hips shift beneath your foot.

He looks beautiful like this, you think.

Half-lit by his lamp, blushing and glowing with list and finally-felt pleasure. Your body tingles with your own pleasure, the success of doing this.

Mark’s teeth catch his bottom lip, trapping a grunt within his lips. You press your toes to circle them at the tip of his erection, and Mark’s hips lift up, chasing the feeling, grinding against your foot. He sighs, soft moans and pretty sounds, and then at last, he whispers “oh God” and then shudders and slumps back in the chair.

You feel the wet heat beneath your heel, Mark’s cum filling his trousers.

Satisfied, you vanish before he can open his eyes.

You return the following night. This time Mark is in his room at the rectory, sitting up in bed. His eyes are closed as he leans against the wall, his bedsheets pooled in his lap, his hand resting there. He’s not touching himself, but you can tell that he’s challenging himself not to. He’s hard again, and the moment you present in the room, his eyes open as if he could feel the change in the air.

“Demon,” his eyes narrow. “What did you do to me last night?”

“Why? Did it feel good?” You smile. You don’t walk straight to his bed, though you know you’ll end up there. You walk to the closet, run your fingers over the hangers, you skim your fingers through the dust gathering on the books lining the shelf on his wall.

When Mark clears his throat, it’s then that you finally look at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because you need me.” You nod at his lap, wave your hand in a long gesture at his whole body. “I’m telling you, Mark, the energy coming off of you, it’s a wonder you don’t draw every succubus in Hell to come seduce you, drinking up all this juice you’ve got, I’ve never been so full.”

Mark’s eyes flash darkly, his eyes stuck on your face. “Well you had your fill last night right? I can’t believe.... I’ve prayed to the Lord for forgiveness so many times since last night I went to confession earlier today.”

“Oh did you?” A burst of excitement goes through you, and you hurry to sit on his bed, taking up his hand. “What did you tell them about me?”

Mark shakes your hand off. “I didn’t mention you. Why would I? They’d either think I’m losing my mind, which I’m still not convinced that I’m not, or they’d think that I’m just breaking my vows and having sex with someone. I just confessed that I lost my battle against lust and took care of myself.”

You tut at him disapprovingly, shaking your head as you say, “Lying in confession? Isn’t that an oxymoron? And a sin?”

Mark’s hands clench at the sheets. “I wasn’t lying really. Not if I believe that you’re a figment of my cracking mind.”

You smirk, and when you lean closer and lay a fingertip on Mark’s cheek, tracing along his cheekbone and then dropping to outline his lips, you whisper, “And do you believe that? Truly? That I’m just a figment of your imagination?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” Mark whispers hoarsely. “I don’t know if it’s better to think I’m doing this to myself or that there’s a demon taunting me.”

“Maybe I’m actually an angel in disguise, sent in answer to your prayers.” You shift onto your knees, and lean close to Mark’s face. You hold just an inch away from his lips. He goes almost cross-eyed trying to keep looking at you. “In which case, you should take advantage of this opportunity, no? Let me help you, enjoy it.”

Mark pulls his head back, closing his eyes tight as he drops his head back gently against the wall. “This is a sin. I’m a priest, I can’t be doing this.”

You roll your eyes and move.

Mark peers curiously, and almost fearfully, through a cracked eyelid when he feels your weight leave the bed. But a split second later you’ce settled completely in his lap. He goes stiff, murmuring prayers under his breath as well as something that sounds suspiciously like some sort of chant to banish you.

You stay firmly in your spot. “Why did you become a priest, Mark?”

Your question catches him off guard. His prayers cut off and he opens his eyes, looking directly at you. “What? Because I was called. I heard His voice calling me.”

“When?”

“The first time I was young. Fifteen, I think.” He looks up at the ceiling, remembering. “Again when I was eighteen. I entered the seminary at nineteen, studied until I was twenty three, when I became a deacon, and then I was ordained earlier this year. At twenty five.”

You shift your weight. “And you never doubted it? That this was what you wanted to do? That you wanted to swear yourself to celibacy? Never have sex, never allow yourself to experience pleasure? Tell me, Mark, are you a virgin?”

Mark’s blush returns, flooding his face with heat. “Why do you care?”

“Have you ever been touched by another person?” He stays silent, and you think about what you’ve observed in him. You think about him clumsily touching himself before giving up, about how easily he’d fallen apart under your touch the night before. “Have you ever touched yourself, Mark?”

You can feel how hard his heart pounds now, and in each loud beat you hear your answer.

“Cute. Little virginal priest.” You put your hands on either of his cheeks, turning his face so he has no choice but to look right at you. “Was last night your first orgasm?”

Mark breathes through his nose, holding your gaze, trying to steady his racing heart and mind. “Can you stop.”

“But aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to feel it again?” You drop your hands from his face. “I can give that to you again. I can make you feel even better, actually. If you let me, Mark, I can open up a whole new world to you.”

When his eyes close you can tell that he’s thinking about how to banish you, to send you back to hell. You find that very attractive, particularly when a muscle in his jaw flexes.

“Mark,” you whisper, and you lift a gentle hand to his neck, tracing a finger along a vein that stands out there. “Mark, what if I’m just a figment of your imagination? It’s not wrong then, is it? To want to feel good like you did last night? I can give that to you again, I can make you feel better. Just tell me yes.”

The silence buzzes in the room as you wait for him to speak or do anything.

“Yes,” Mark’s voice comes out shaky, hoarse. “Yes, okay. Just one more time.”

You move before he can decide to change his mind. Mark just takes steadying breaths as you sink down the bed, slipping beneath the covers, fitting between his thighs. He holds his breath when you tug down the waistband of the plaid flannel pants he’s wearing, when you touch his bare erection with your fingers, the tip of your tongue, your lips closing around him.

You’re not sure that he breathes until swallow around him, pushing to take more of his cock down your throat. Your body buzzes with the heat coming off of him, the energizing power of making him feel good.

Mark doesn’t touch you. He clenches his fingers in the bedsheets on either side of his hips as you give him his very first blowjob. You can’t help looking up at him as you do this; watching every look of pleasure and satisfaction cross his face, unrestrained. And when he moans, they’re soft moans, always conscious that you’re not alone together in this house of holy men, that there’s another priest just two doors down, an empty bathroom in between.

You keep sucking him off, taking him as deep into your mouth as you can when he blows his load for the first time.

Mark bites his knuckles to keep quiet. You pull off his erection, keeping your fingers on him, playing with him as he shudders through the last waves of pleasure.

“Look at that, would you? Felt good? How could that be a bad thing?” You drop a tender kiss to his tip, and then sit up, feeling very satisfied in yourself. “Do you want more?”

“More? No. I shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t.” He put his hands over his face, pinching at his nose. “Shit. What am I doing? You need to leave.”

You look at him with his face covered, his body on display to your eyes. “Well, if you want more, I’m sure you can look up a summoning ritual for me in one of your holy books, Father Mark. Call me.”

You stand up, and it’s not like you’re going to leave by the door, or anything, but you turn to look around his room one last time. You’re done here. You seduced the priest, drank energy from him, there’s nothing more to be done. You’ve enjoyed your first time, but you’re not going to do the full succubus job to this man, you’ve enjoyed him too much. You won’t drain him and leave him sick. You just hope you opened his eyes.

“Wait.” The young priest grabs your arm before you have the chance to disappear. “How do you expect me to summon you if I don’t know your name?” He says it lightly, almost joking, as if he’s still not sure that he can really take this seriously, this whole you being a seductive demon thing. But the look in his eyes is hopeful.

With a light touch to his chin, you lean in, and whisper your name in his ear.

Months pass in mortal time. You move on from the young priest, seducing many men and some women, draining a few of them dry until they’re just shells of their former selves. You’re currently seducing a wannabe actor, literally sitting on his dick, when you feel a tug inside you. It’s a strange feeling, nothing you’ve felt before, and it’s not pleasant at all.

You push at the man’s chest, the unpleasant feeling spreading through you. “I’ve got to go,” you tell him, and then you turn and vanish, following the strange feeling.

You find yourself in a strange room, a small bedroom.

“So you really never came back to me.” A voice says from behind you.

You spin around, noticing all at once the candles, and then right before you--

“Forgive me, Father. I thought you didn’t want more from me.” You reach out to Mark, standing right here before him for the first time in so long. You missed him. You missed teasing him.

“I didn’t expect you really wouldn’t come back.” Mark stands there just out of reach, his arms folded across his chest. And he looks so good, so handsome in a black button-down shirt and gray pressed slacks. But he’s barefoot and his hair is messy, adding a toned-down casual level to his attractiveness. He clears his throat and you look back up to his face as he says, “I had to make do without you around, you know.”

That piques your interest. “Oh? Did you finally learn to jerk off? Have you been touching yourself? Here in the priest house?”

Mark shakes his head. “Look around, does this look like my room there?”

No, actually. It doesn’t at all. And a quick look out the window shows that you’re in somewhere completely different.

“I left the priesthood,” Mark explains. “What you said, what you did to me, I realized that the priesthood wasn’t what was the best choice for me. I can still serve the Lord in other ways, other ways that will allow me to explore the side of me that you awakened.” And now Mark steps closer to you. At last, he reaches for your face, slipping his fingers into your hair. You practically purr at the contact with him. “I’ve been busy since you left me.”

“Oh?” You lean into his touch. “From priest to manwhore in just a few passes of the moon.”

Mark nods. “I tried to stay on that path for a little while, but I just couldn’t. I craved more, that same feeling you gave me.” He nibbles his bottom lip nervously for a second before admitting, “I actually slept with a woman before I decided to give up on the priesthood. I prayed for forgiveness afterwards, but it just felt like I fucked up too much on that one, so I decided to leave. I moved away, started over, slept around, but none of them touched me the way that you did. Nothing feels better than you.”

You shrug. “It’s part of the job description really. I’m a seductress. You think I’m not going to be the best you’ve ever had? Is that why you summoned me, you want more at last?”

“Demon, I want to make you a deal.” Mark caresses your cheek. “I am a man of faith, and you’ve steered me down some side path that I had absolutely no intention of going down. In the past, I didn’t know what to do with you, but I wanted you. Now, I still want you, but I know what I’m doing. I know about you. I did research about your kind while I was looking up how to summon you again. I want to make a deal.”

“A deal?” You pull back from him, breaking all contact. “Mark, what the hell. Don’t you know what making a deal with a demon means?”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, dismissive. “I don’t care. I know the risk, but, fuck, I swear you got me addicted to you. Just a few hits, and I crave you.”

“Why would you want to make a deal with me? A binding pact?” You push at his chest and Mark takes a step back to balance. “Are you fucking stupid? You think I want your soul, Mark Lee? You had a good soul, a pure one. That’s why I left you and never looked back! Some things are too good starting out, and tarnishing them with my hands....” You look down at your hands, and you can see through the glamor you wear, down to your real form the ashen hell-burnt flesh.

Mark’s watching you when you look up at him. But he doesn’t look afraid, doesn’t look sad or sorry.

His eyes still burn with need.

“I don’t want your soul,” you tell him, “So I don’t want a deal.”

Mark takes another step back from you. “But I want you. So take the damned deal. Fuck me.”

“And what do you get out of it? You won’t get fame or fortune or health from this deal. You literally just get to fuck a demon until you die, so no, that’s not good enough.” If you were human you’d be sick to your stomach right now. What Mark’s offering you, if he were anyone else you would take the deal, but Mark Lee was a good man when you met him; he was cute and innocent, a pure soul that you wanted to protect so you left for his own good. You couldn’t make him pay the price of being with you.

No, Mark shakes his head in denial and desperation. He comes close to you again, standing just an inch away from you, close enough that both of you can feel each other, but not close enough that any part of you is actually touching.

“Just touch me, please.” Mark pleads. “I miss your touch. The way you made me feel, I’ve been chasing that high for months, and nothing compares. Please.”

You want to touch him. You really, really do.

With a groan of frustration, you cup Mark’s face in your hands. “I’m going to be the death of you,” you tell him in the moment before your lips meet his.

The kiss is absolutely intoxicating. Mark moans and wraps around you, moving backwards toward his bed, limbs tangling together as you both collapse onto his sheets. You pin him beneath you, kissing the air from his lungs, your fingers sliding down the front of his shirt, buttons falling open just at your touch. And when your fingertips move a bit lower, grazing the front of his pants, you find that he’s devastatingly hard.

He rolls his hips up against your hand, groaning into the kiss, whimpering delightfully when you squeeze his erection.

You sit up on him, and Mark follows, needy for your kiss. His mouth crashes against yours, sharp and hot. You push his shirt off his shoulders, and you let him roll you under him, your body nestled into his sheets as Mark unbuttons his fancy slacks, pushing them down enough that you can see his cock pop out.

You grab onto the edges of his pants, dragging him forward up your body, and you all but throw your mouth onto his cock.

Much like the last time, Mark seems caught off guard by the way you make him feel. He moans loudly, fingers knotting in your hair. But unlike the last time, he quickly recovers, seems to know what to do to get exactly what he wants, using his hands in your hair to direct your mouth.

When you can see it in his face that he’s enjoying this a bit too much, you pull off, using your hand on him instead, looking up at him as you jerk him off over your chest.

“Mmm, fuck,” Mark moans, a hand running over his chest and down his abs. “No one makes me feel this good. Not with anything they’ve done to me.” He thrusts forward into your hand. “I need to feel you around me.”

You nod. You want it too. You’re ready for him, and he’s clearly more than ready for you. Mark quickly disposes of his pants, climbing back on the bed, sinking in to kiss you again, and you fall into the kiss, more intoxicating than anything you’ve ever felt. With a hand to his chest, you press Mark onto his back, and you climb over him, straddling his thighs.

You don’t break the kiss, just reach down as you move forward to situate yourself over him. Teasing the head of his erection against your wet, dripping entrance, Mark whines, shifting his hips up eagerly. “Patience,” you murmur, and you leave his lips behind to kiss down his throat, down the center of his chest, and you glance up at him as you allow his tip to slide inside you just as you circle your tongue on one of his nipples.

He bucks up, wanting to bury himself inside you, but you’ve already pulled away again.

“Thought you said you’d know what to do now?” You ask, flicking your tongue over his pebbled nipple. “When are you going to prove that? Because from where I’m sitting--” you sit upright, right down on him so his erection is trapped between his abdomen and your wet heat, “--you’re still the innocent boy who doesn’t now how to fuck me.”

You’re not entirely sure how he does it, flipping from submissive boy trapped beneath you to you suddenly being on your back with Mark’s mouth ravaging your throat, and his cock rutting between your legs, still not inside you, but now it’s you who groans at the tease. His erection glides over your clit, and each time you feel a zip of pleasure.

You grip at his arms, fingers digging into muscle, and then Mark’s cock slips and on the next thrust, he fucks right into you.

Both of you moan as he sinks inside you, his teeth catch at your throat, instantly soothed again by his lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Mark mumbles the words against your skin. “You’re so soft, warm. Heavenly.” He buries his face in your neck, his entire body presses against yours--chest and hip, legs tangled together as he shallowly fucks into you while sucking at your throat.

This is intimate and strange and fascinating and fantastic. Your usual partners are just quick fucks that you feed off of their sexual energy and then you leave. It’s not intimate at all, no matter how many times you’d fucked them, there was no intimacy--rarely were attempts made by them, and never by you--but here you can’t get enough of this. You just want Mark closer until you can’t feel where your form ends and Mark begins.

Your fingernails scrape the back of his neck, twisting in his hair as you bring his busy lips from your throat to your lips, needing to satiate the hunger.

This is pure lust, addiction to him and his addiction to you.

You’re not even feeding off the sexual energy of this intercourse, just existing in the moment for the carnality of it all.

Mark’s thrusts grow bigger, deeper, more powerful, and you wrestle with him, letting him stay on top until suddenly you want him beneath you. You want to fuck him, to ride him, and that lasts for a bit until you’re on your belly pressed into the bed, Mark thrusting into you from behind with his lips against your cheek as he murmurs praises. There’s teeth and nails, Mark’s hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. He shivers in delight when you press him again beneath you, circling your hips on his cock, tracing your fingers over the raised pink lines from your nails down his chest.

He looks high, his pupils wide, his skin flushed, and he’s alive with a glowing energy that calls out to you, begging you to drink it in. But you don’t want that here. You just want this, to feel a part of this, to make him feel the best you can because experiencing sex like this with Mark where you’re not using your demon powers feels absolutely insane, makes you feel even better than when you do answer that call, and drink off the energy of your partner.

His hand snaps against your ass, and you realize you’ve just been sitting there, gazing down at him in admiration. “Move, baby.” And he does it again.

“Fuck, Mark. Do you go to confession and tell the priest that you dream about getting fucked by a demon like this?” You roll your hips, sinking forward until your lips are beside his ear. “Do you confess your sins. Forgive me, Father, but I let a demon into my life. She fucked me so good I stopped being a priest because her pussy is worth it.”

Mark moans.

“Forgive me, Father, but when I was a priest, she made me cum for her in the Church, on holy ground.” You squeeze around his cock, and he lets out a beautiful sound. “Mmm, forgive me, Mark, but I think no amount of confession will make up for sinning like this, loving every single thing we’re doing right now.”

“Holy--!” Mark’s voice cuts off as you sit up, curling your delicate fingers around his throat. His eyes roll back from the pleasure, and you just smile down at him, applying pressure to his throat and circling your other thumb around his nipple. He blinks and looks up at you, his mouth hanging open in soundless awe and appreciation, his eyes glowing with lust and something else. You just want to make him feel good.

You press forward, unable to hold back, needing to feel his lips on yours as you ride him, as you feel that pleasure seeping through your body, a warm silvery-golden glow as your toes curl and your body goes warm and light and fuzzy.

Mark’s hands are on you -- on your hips and your hands and in your hair and on your thighs, touching you all over, pressing you down as he bucks up into you, and then he’s cumming and it feels so good too, better than when the others have done it.

You keep kissing him, rolling your hips down on him, wanting to keep this feeling going. It’s one you’ve never truly felt before.

But eventually it must end, and you roll off to the side, and Mark follows, not wanting to let you get too far. He tucks his face against your neck, breath hot and damp on your skin, and his thigh slips comfortably between yours. You feel sticky and sweaty all over in places you didn’t know you could be sweaty, and you feel like you need to catch your breath.

Mark drops a singular tiny kiss to the center of your chest, and then he pulls back, his head resting on one side of the pillow, yours on the other, only a few bare inches between the tips of your noses. You’ve never been this close to a human before (on multiple levels) and you don’t pull back.

“I made a deal with a demon,” Mark whispers, and he uses a finger to brush back a section of sweaty hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Or at least, I meant to. Don’t leave me.”

“Mark, I won’t kill you.” You tell him, absolutely refusing to let this go where he seems to carelessly want it to go.

His fingers tighten in your hair. “Then give it up. I want you. All the time. And it’s not just because you’re a succubus. I know that’s part of the enchantment, I completely understand that, but I know in a deeper place in my heart that I crave you in a way that’s separate from your crazy, mystical demon powers, okay? Give it up.”

You stare into his eyes, his wide and innocent and hopeful eyes. You want to do it for him. You want to give Mark whatever he asks for. But... “I can’t. This is who I am, I can’t just give up being a succubus. It’s what I was brought into existence to be.”

Mark shakes his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re a demon, but what are demons except fallen angels.” His thumb strokes over your cheek. “And I see an angel when I look at you.”

You roll your eyes and push his hand away. You sit up, ready to leave his bed, to flee into the unknown from him. But Mark’s fingers circle tightly around your wrist.

“I know how to summon you, I’ll just bring you back,” he says.

“And if I asked you not to?” You flex your wrist, testing his hold. “If I told you that I truly wanted you to leave me alone. What then?”

Mark’s hand falls away and he closes his eyes, turning onto his back to face the ceiling. “I would leave you alone. I would wish I could have convinced you to stay. Because I can see that you want to be here as much as I want you to stay.” He opens his eyes, looking right at you. “You gave me your name before you left, you opened this path for me to find you again, so you must have wanted me to, right?”

Right.

“So stay. I’m a theological man, and I’ve done my research into demonology and the supernatural, into good and evil. You think you’re just a demon, but I think you’re an angel, and somewhere in between where you stand and where I stand is a happy medium, a place where you and I can have this--” he gestures between your two bare bodies in his bed “--without you being afraid of destroying my soul.”

This is absolutely ridiculous.

You want it more than you can explain.

“Make a deal with me, demon.” Mark says, taking your hand in his, guiding it to his chest. He presses your palm flat over his heartbeat. “Stay with me, and I’ll help you become the angel that I know you are.”

This story began with a demon set on destroying her sexual victims and with a priest certain of his fate as a celibate holy man, and now you’re here. Both of you have already come so far from where you began.

You take Mark’s hand, guiding it so his palm lays over where your heart would be.

“The deal is true.” You tell him, and Mark gazes into your eyes as he repeats those words back to you, and just like that a bond is formed, a pact made, and you sink down against him, pressing your cheek to his chest as his arms wrap around you.

And this time you stay.

a/n: oops, I knew as soon as I first read this message that it was probably going to end up as a drabble, but damn I didn’t think I’d make it this long lol

If you liked it please reblog, like, comment. If you’re into the corruption of religious figures thing, definitely also check out Righteous a 5-part series by the wonderful @skzctnightnight​ it’s not got demons but it does have seminarian student Mark being tempted by the reader and it’s very hot and good

[royal-ruin]

roswell nm fanfic recs (part 2)

other roswell new mexico fic recs here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

so this is it for my current malex bookmarked fics.

michael guerin / alex manes (malex)

we burned down our paper house by Ravens_Words (~15k)

"Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. Epic."

Scenes from a lost decade.

i've only kissed out of fear by lostin_space (~15k)

in which michael and alex get married out of high school

Librae by Enchantable (~9k)

[“Good thinking,” she says, “should I get you fake rings? I can probably make them think there was a marriage certificate or we can cut up mine and Noah’s, god knows I don’t need that thing—“

“Iz!” She stops and looks at him, “I didn’t make it up.”]

You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl by jule1122 (~6k)

He strides back into Kyle’s office with a cockiness he doesn’t feel. He doesn’t answer any of the questions about where he went, just takes the paper from his pocket and hands it to Kyle. “Show this to whoever is in charge and tell them I will be making all of Alex’s medical decisions, and I demand immediate access to my husband.

yes, i have a thing for malex being secretly married. i don’t get it either.

The Real Thirsty Housewives of Roswell, NM by christchex (~3k)

From his seat in the Airstream Alex could hear it all, but he could only catch glimpses of Michael. A shirtless Michael apparently. He heard one of the women outside discuss how she bought new tires just so they could watch Michael replace them.

“God blessed that man with an ass,” one of the thirty-somethings said, the Late Brunch group as Michael called them. “And he blessed me with eyes to look at it, so damn it I’m going to.”

this was absolutely hilarious. i’ve read it like four times now and i practically die of laughter every single time. 

Truck Stop Knives And Other Accessories of Childhood by Lori Lane (LoriLane) (~13k)

[Liz took a cautious step forward and the little boy's hand clenched into a fist inside his jeans pocket.

Michael watched this exchange and warned, “Don’t touch him Liz.”

Liz didn’t let her eyes leave the boy, “He’s your inner child, Michael. He’s adorable.”

“My inner child will stab you.”

She spun around at that, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Michael just shrugged, “His hand is in his right pocket. There’s a switchblade there. I stole it from a truck stop when I was ten. Blue handle. Keep stepping closer and I’m sure he’ll show it to you.”

The little boy looked at Michael with betrayal and the older man just raised an eyebrow, “Don’t stab my friends.”]

the way you laid your eyes on me by LogicalBookThief (~4k)

From a young age, Alex learns to rate his pain. Your homophobic dad figuring out you're gay before you do ranks somewhere around an 8. Your friend abandoning you for the same reason ranks a little lower, though just barely. Losing a limb is probably the closest to a perfect 10 he's ever managed to get.

Losing Michael isn't even on the scale, it's so unthinkable.

if you love malex angst, this is the fic for you

The Cowboy Vigilante by el_gilliath (5 part series: ~13k)

The stories of Alex Manes, reporter and the vigilante known as Cowboy.

These are their struggles in New York City, featuring robbers, kidnappers, hostage takers and Chief Police Captain Jesse Manes

isobel evans / maria deluca

this love asylum, like an island (just me and you) by lacecat (~10k)

Bisexual. She’s never said the word out loud to describe herself. When Michael had said it to her, in his Airstream, she had realized that, and thought, maybe there are some things worth bringing out, that don’t deserve to be hidden.

She just wishes that her wedding-rebound-fling hadn’t been with DeLuca, out of all people. Goddamn it.

i wish i had more isobel / maria fics :(

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Be My Night And My Day - Part 3

Summary: Hvitserk has been your best friend since childhood, the one you can always rely on. So when you start doubting your current relationship with Sihtric, Hvitserk kindly offers to help you out….but the consequences are never what you expected.

Pairing- Sihtric x Plus Size!Reader & Hvitserk x Plus Size!Reader

Warnings: Angst, implied smut, confessions 

Words: 3200

Tag List:  @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @geekandbooknerd @adrille88 @dini73 @flowers-in-your-hayr​ (lemme know if you want to be added or deleted)

Catch up here -- Part 1 / Part 2

The day of the midsummer festival arrived. Garlands of flowers and banners were strung between some of the houses. The flowers saturated the air with their potent aroma, mixing with the smoke from the large bonfires to create a heady scent in the evening air. The rambunctious screams of children and the cheers of old friends celebrating drown out all other sounds. Even the sun as it set over the fjords cast the sky in mesmerizing colors, as if it wanted to join in the revelry below before disappearing. Food and ale were in abundant supply, promising everyone to have their fill, and for many to awake the next morning with regrets due to the pain in their stomachs or heads. Or both. 

 Yet, you wandered along the streets, feeling alone even amongst the crowd. A smile remained plastered to your face as you moved about. A few times you stopped to greet those you knew and share a few sips of ale with them. You did not linger long though. Soon enough you were back to walking, back to scanning the crowds for two faces in particular, back to ignoring the churning in your gut. 

As you maneuvered through the crowd, avoiding sprinting children and a few wandering hands, your mind reminisced that a year ago today was the first time you brought Sihtric to your home. That the two of you made love for the first time. That you shared with him a part of yourself no one else had seen or touched. 

 Your mind easily recalled how he was so gentle with you that night, treating you like a queen whom he willingly served to his utmost ability. Each caress, each kiss, each word of praise and compliment painted your skin while his musky scent and husky voice infused itself into your soul. Then as you made love, for there was no other description for it, you felt your heart fully open to him like a flower desperate for the sun's rays. 

 Afterwards, you laid together on your bed, silly smiles on both of your faces, wholly sated and sweaty. Neither of you with any intention of leaving. There he asked you to be his. His woman. His lover. 

 And you agreed immediately. 

 Under the festival's banners and the fading sun, your hands smoothed down the fabric of your dress as you walked. You had been working on this dress for the past several months by candlelight once Sihtric had fallen asleep. It was meant to be a surprise for him, a gift in a way. The color of the fabric was a deep forest green, his favorite color. It hugged you tight like a lover's embrace, showing your plump figure. Something you never would have done in the past. But for Sihtric you would….because you knew he loved your body and you wanted to look good for him. For with the way the dress was cut and showcased certain assets on your body, you knew he would thoroughly enjoy peeling you out of it later. 

 Tonight you were supposed to be at Sihtric's side, laughing and drinking with him. You were supposed to feel beautiful with his appreciative gaze and grabby hands. You were supposed to feel happy amongst your friends as you celebrated another year blessed by the gods. 

 Yet you were alone. 

 And all you could feel was despair. 

 Up ahead, you could see Queen Aslaug and Ubbe, sipping on horns as they watched the crowd, whispering to one another. When Ubbe caught your eye, he smiled brightly and motioned you over. You might have been able to keep your facade before Ubbe, teasing him about his latest lover or listening to him tell an embarrassing story of his brothers. He would throw his arm over your shoulders, letting you lay your head against him and steal sips of ale from his horn. He had told you more than once you were the sister he always wished for. A compliment you took to heart. 

 But you knew the queen would be able to see through your illusion within a second. The fake happiness you wore as a cloak to hide your true feelings, drawn back beneath her penetrating gaze, leaving you exposed. Somehow the woman had always been able to read you too well, even when you were a child. As you sat amongst the brothers at the table eating, when you occasionally joined them, they would be talking, or more likely arguing, your mind would be far away reliving the negative comments or looks thrown at you earlier in the day. Without a word, she would reach over and grasp your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Reminding you that those people's opinions were not the ones you should focus on. That your friends, your found family, their opinions matter more. Even now as you stood across the street, when her eyes met yours, there was a knowing weight there that made your heart clench painfully. 

 So instead, you shook your head and gave them a brief smile before disappearing into the crowd once more. You had hoped to see Sihtric or Hvitserk, to try and talk sense into them, to just see their faces and pretend for a moment that you had not monumentally screwed everything up. But as you wandered down the various streets, neither the blond prince or the dark-haired Viking seemed to be attending. 

 After a final glance around, with tears threatening to escape their confines and a churning of acid in your stomach that refused to settle, you turned your back and started towards the docks. You always found peace listening to the waves on the shore. The repetitive sound and motion, the salty air, the cool breeze on your skin, the sand beneath you, it all helped clear away the worries and fears in your mind for a time. And that was something you sorely needed right now. 

 You continued through the revelry, like a ghost among the living, threading your way towards the docks. You stopped when a hand landed on your arm, reaching out of the shadows and stilling your movements. With an excuse of exhaustion on your lips, you turned to deliver it to whomever it was seeking your attention.

 Only for it to dissipate when your gaze met those dark eyes that enchanted you, that held your secrets, that you found solace in. 

 "Sihtric?" You breathed out. The churning in your stomach momentarily silenced under his gaze. 

 Those dark eyes scanned you from head to toe, not missing an inch of skin or curve of your body exposed in your dress. With the intensity of his gaze, a shiver raced down your spine and caused your breath to catch in your throat. 

 "You look beautiful." He softly murmured. With the lightness of a butterfly's wing, he reached up to trace your cheek and down your jawline. Unconsciously, your eyelids fluttered, threatening to close under the sheer bliss from his touch alone. He chuckled huskily, making your eyes snap open and your heart to skip at the sound. 

 "Thank you." You responded, equally as quiet. 

 The both of you stood there, somehow your hands now laying on his chest and his on your hips. You knew you should say something instead of staring at him like a lovestruck fool; but you were too caught in a daze from finally finding him, after days of your heart yearning for him. And with the way he was staring at you...you wondered if he felt the same. 

 "Can….can we talk?"

 You nodded. "Of course."

 He gently took your hand in his, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm of your hand, making your heart beat a rapid tempo in response. Silently he guided you through the crowd, away from the festival. A couple of times, you heard the call of your name or Sihtric's, friends hoping you would join them. Every time his feet never faulted, continuing onward, leading you away. He would wave a hand at them, calling out that the two of you were retiring for the night. 

 For the first time that day, the smile you wore was genuine. Not a hint of fictitious joy to be found. And whenever Sihtric would catch your eye and grin or wink at you….your smile only grew wider. 

 It was several minutes before you realized he was leading you back to your home. Privacy and quiet was what he most likely were looking for and that was guaranteed at your home right now. It was now though as you approached, your mind could see through the mental haze and began to question what he wanted to speak to you about. 

 Releasing your hand, he opened the door and stepped through. Yet you lingered for a moment on the threshold. There was something in you that knew, after this moment, after this talk, nothing would ever be the same. But would it bring you joy or heartbreak was unknown. 

 With a deep breath, you willed your heart to settle as you followed him inside. You first noticed the fire in the hearth was alive and dancing, casting light and shadows around the main room. For a brief moment you questioned your own sanity, for you were certain you had not left it like that. You always doused the flames before leaving your home. There were one too many stories of the negligence of others forgetting about their fire and their home turning to ash. Something you never wanted to experience personally.

 The second thing you noticed was the blond prince sitting next to your small table, clad only in trousers and loose shirt, his legs stretched out before him. His green eyes were trained on you, first taking in your form through your dress before settling on your face. His pointer finger drummed repetitively on the cup he held in hand. At any other time, this scene would have been normal. He would probably be over demanding food and cuddles. But now, with the tension you could see in his form, it was anything but relaxed. 

 Your head whipped around to stare at Sihtric, your stomach doing somersaults and your traitorous heart racing like a horse. "What is going on?"

 With a glance at Hvitserk, the dark-haired Viking stepped closer. His hand moved to cup your cheek, forcing you to stare only at him. "You love me?"

 "Yes." You murmured. 

 He nodded once. "But you also love him."

 This time when you answered, there was a tremble in your voice; not because your answer was untruthful, but from the pain you knew it carried with it. "Yes."

 "How?"

 You blinked owlishly for a moment. The question did not startle you, for it was a logical question. What caused your hesitation, your momentary lapse of thought, was that this was the very question you had been wrestling with ever since Hvitserk walked out after confessing his love to you. Amongst your sobbing and sleepless nights, you pondered how it could be. How could your heart yearn for both of them so earnestly? How could the very thought of your life without one or the other fill you with such dread?

 As your mind fumbled, tripping over your chaotic thoughts like unearthed roots in a forest, Sihtric drew back from you. With a resigned glint in his eyes, he turned and walked over to the small table, taking the seat opposite of Hvitserk. 

 Both men faced you, their gazes solely locked on you like you were a mystery needing to be solved. It was here you truly realized how very different they were. One was a blond prince, someone you had known almost your whole life and had become a safe haven for when the world became too much. The other was a dark-haired bastard, someone who you had only known for a while but showed up like a shooting star amongst your darkest of nights. 

 So how could you love them both equally?

 How could you explain it in a way they would understand?

 "Because, Sihtric, you are my night." You stated with finality, meeting the gaze of your lover. After a moment, you turned to look at your best friend. "And, Hvitserk, you are my day. I need you both."

 "That makes no sense." Hvitserk complained, then drained the cup in hand quickly. Only when he reached to refill his cup, did you notice the pitcher on the small table and the second cup near Sihtric's elbow. Absent-mindedly, you wondered how long the two of them had been sitting in your home drinking together while you were at the festival searching for them. 

 Running a hand over your dress, you took a second to gather your thoughts before speaking. The gazes of both men were still on you. Hvitserk tapped on his cup with his forefinger, a habit he did when thinking or listening intently. Sihtric sat frozen, unmoving like a statue, his full attention on you. Silently, you sent a plea to the gods that your words would ring true and turn their hearts from violence. 

 "Sihtric, you are my night. You are the peace in my storm, my quiet moments of solace. You are my comforting walks along the shoreline, holding hands and listening to the waves. You are my late-night talks, my confessions in the dark. You are the only one who truly understands what it was to be alone, to be an outcast amongst your own family. You have truly made me feel wanted and beautiful and happy, when I could only see loneliness in my future before I met you."

 Tears in your eyes and heart held in the palm of your hands, you smiled faintly at your lover before shifting your gaze to your best friend. 

 "Hvitserk, you are my day. You are the joy in the sunlight. You are my silly adventures and learning to lie so as to avoid your mother's wrath. You are the laughter that always bubbles up in me whenever we are together. Yet you are my strength, without you I would not be here. You are the one to always encourage me, to ignore the comments and keep my head up high. You are the reason I can walk in Kattegat without a care, because their snide opinions hold no control over me anymore."

 No longer could you hold the tears back, staining your cheeks as they slid down. You sniffled, trying to wipe them away with the sleeve of your dress, only for them to be replaced with your next heartbeat. 

 "I'm so sorry," you continued when you were certain your voice would not crack, "I don't know how else to explain it. I love you both….for different reasons. I know it makes me selfish. I know I don't deserve either one of you. Especially now. I hope one day you can forgive me….but I cannot choose between you. I can't. It would be like choosing which eye I wish to keep. I can live with only one, but having both makes me better, makes me happier. I'm so sorry."

 Silence descended over the small room like a wet blanket, leaving you struggling to breath between their scrutiny and the tears streaming down your cheeks. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard and even it seemed to sense the intensity of the moment. 

 This was it. The time you had been waiting for. When they both would walk away and leave you alone. Not that you would blame them or try to stop them. It was what you deserved.  

 The two Vikings shared a meaningful look, an unspoken conversation passed between them, dark eyes meeting green ones. Hvitserk tilted his head to the side with raised brows, the faintest hint of a smirk teasing his lips. A long exhale escaped Sihtric as his gaze dropped to the table for a second before jerking it back up to meet the prince's. He nodded and they both faced you once again. 

 "This is it? Nothing can change your mind?" Hvitserk softly asked. 

 You shook your head. "I'm sorry."

 Hvitserk smirked. "We figured as much." He took a sip of his drink, carefully setting it on the table after. "We have talked….neither of us wish to lose you. Thus, we have a choice for you."

 "Yes?"

 "Would you be willing for us to share you?"

 Your thoughts tossed and turned like a rowboat stuck in the raging seas. Never had you thought of that option. You knew of others who had shared and had heard their stories of what it was like to have two lovers, but you never considered that for yourself. Mostly because you never thought more than one person would ever be interested in you anyway. 

 Your prior tears forgotten, you stumbled over your words as you watched both men. "I….truly? You would be willing….to share….me?" A part of you wondered if this was some kind of joke, something to raise your hopes only to dash them away 

 Sihtric rubbed a hand along his jawline. "We can try."

 "How….how would that….it work?" 

 "Well, tonight we figured we could have a trial run, if you agree." Hvitserk said casually, as if you were discussing the weather or what he wanted to eat for dinner. 

 Your mind continued to whirl with thoughts and questions. For surely there were certain things which would need to be discussed beforehand. Would others know of this….arrangement? What would happen if this fell apart? Curtly, you shook your head, hoping to dislodge the worries and fears. For once you wanted to live in the moment, and take the hand outstretched before you. Let the morning light bring its own concerns. 

 With a confidence you were unsure you truly felt, you straightened as you stood before them. "Yes. I want to do this."

 Hvitserk chuckled as he leaned back in his seat again, that damn smirk beaming from his face, causing butterflies in your belly to dance. 

 "Good." Sihtric leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Before your eyes, you watched the heat grow in his dark gaze, transforming from stoic to hungry in a way that made your breath hitch. "Take your clothes off."

 Your core clenched at the way his voice dropped while giving the command. A low simmer of desire sparked in your belly at the covetous look in his eyes. Your gaze shifted to the blond, only to be met with a wicked, primal stare that sent a shiver down your spine. Standing before them both, you felt a lamb before two ravenous wolves. Ones that would only feast on your flesh after they toyed with you, played with you, and made you cry out and beg for relief. 

 With hands shaking, not from trepidation but anticipation and excitement, your hands made quick work of the ties of your dress. Desire tightened a knot in your stomach and caused arousal to bloom between your legs. In the next moment, your dress dropped, pooling at your feet, leaving you naked before their eyes. Every roll of fat, every stretch mark, every blemish on full display for them. Every curve of your body, your ample breasts and thick thighs exposed in the firelight. Yet all you could see was the way both men drank you in with their starved looks, as if they were at a feast and you were the main course they had been waiting for….and they fully intended to devour to their heart's content. 

 Sihtric spoke first, almost making your knees buckle due to the low growl of his approval. 

 "Good girl."

Part 4

[maeve-writes]

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI 

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes. 

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers. 

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm. 

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory. 

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone. 

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.” 

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue. 

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside. 

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed. 

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged. 

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild. 

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves. 

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests. 

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement. 

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously. 

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him. 

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress. 

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights. 

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention. 

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go. 

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold. 

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

[babytaes]

†hê Ðêmðñ (the beauty of sin)

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You're a guardian angel who's never been tasked with protecting anyone. Since you've been here since Creation, sitting around in heaven hasn't brought you any rewards. You were looking forward to the day when you'd be assigned a human to look after. When that day finally arrives, things take an unexpected turn when you are assigned to Heeseung, a demon from the underworld.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: heeseung x female reader

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst, suggestive/smut

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 4k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: profanity, smut scenes, bad boy heeseung (lol), 

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

Sin is a spiritual virus that invades the whole being. It makes you morally and spiritually weak. It’s a deadly disease that infects every part of you: your body, your mind, your emotions, and your motives—absolutely everything. Nobody has the strength on their own to overcome its power.

Nobody should ever commit sin, never giving in to their worldly and sinful impulses. It's unjust and wrong. However, what is it about sin that makes it so fascinating and enjoyable?

It gave you joy to see it in his smile or the way his hands caressed your body. What a lovely thing sin is!

Even though some sins are innocent and enjoyable, sometimes regulations are supposed to be broken. Everyone, after all, is a sinner.

“WHAT!?,?” You began to sweat as you worriedly communicated your concerns to your overseer, “You must be mistaken, High Lord.”

“I understand the protocol; angels are supposed to serve as "guardian angels" to beautiful or broken souls on Earth. You know we're expected to look after them and keep an eye on them to make sure they stay on track. With all due respect, ma'am, I don't believe I'm qualified for this position; at the very least, someone of level 10 would be ideal.”

Her cream-colored wings swept her off her feet as she chuckled and waved for you to follow her. You sighed as you flutter up and away with her, trailing behind her, feeling a twitch in yours.

As you eventually caught up to her, dodging angels left and right, you apologized to random angels in your path, uncomfortably smiled at the people you bumped into with your wings.

You retracted your wings closer to you and walked uneasily beside your overseer as you carefully stepped down on the golden road.

Before you could say anything, she quietly took your hand in hers and gently kissed it, assuring you that everything would be alright. As you approached the center of the commotion, you bit your lower lip and remained silent.

Looking around at the community, it warmed your heart to see so many people, young and old, out here. Some you've known since the beginning of time, while others were born only last week. Everyone had gathered to witness the masterpiece that would emerge in an instant.

“You know Y/N I have complete faith in you that this first expedition will be a breeze,” you smiled, looking up at her with excitement and a tinge of fear in your eyes. “We wouldn't have suggested you for the job unless we knew who you really are, and you've earned it.” Don't worry, you were expecting this; now have a look.”

With her finger pointing to the stage forward, you were treated to yet another spectacular show. They're known as the "Grand Turning" in Heaven. This is where a new or seasoned angel has completed his or her training with a human or demon and earned their proper place in the community.

It could be a badge, a ribbon, or something more unique, such as the opportunity to talk with the all-powerful, our God.

Despite the fact that you were assigned to him, you were determined to get those jobs because they were the only way for you to ever get that honor. You weren't going to allow Mr. Unperfect take away that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Nobody could and will ever be able to make you fail this assignment; you were meticulously prepped. You were taught the correct and only way to do things, and now was your opportunity to shine. You were not going to be a Lucifer, cast from Heaven

“I'll do it,” you said to your supervisor, a smile on your face and confidence in your eyes. She turned to face you and hugged you passionately, rubbing your wings with a motherly devotion.

“I knew you could do it; now it's time to get you ready.”

---

When people have a near-death experience, they always remark that life flashes before their eyes. Unfortunately for angels, it's the contrary; when we're approached with a high-alert danger or warning, it's more of a gentle whisper in our ears. Normally more attentive while traveling to Earth.

The best place to be humans say.. What is with these fickle minded words?

You take a deep breath and turn to face your overseer, who is polishing her wings to ensure that they are kept in order. When having wings, a routine is taught from the beginning to keep them in a good up do. Nobody wants to look simple when you can look stunning.

She took your hand in hers and walked toward the end of the route, issuing some documents to the Pearl City Gate guards. You noticed the circular orb while glancing around.

"How can some humans believe in the world being flat, we literally have an air-like view. To me, it's definitely round.” She chuckled as she pinched your cheeks and turned your puzzled face to her.

“When you get down to earth, you'll see a lot of that, people with a lot of opinions. But what did you learn in your training?”

Standing up and smoothing your wings, you calmly shouted out the words as if they were written on the back of your palm.

“Although humans are the destroyers of their own precious planet, everyone's opinion matters, regardless of race, gender, or identity.”

“Well, not all,” you began scratching your head, “I've seen some harsh individuals in our study books, God should strike them down-“

“Um no ma'am, let us put it aside for the time being and focus on what needs to be done.” She started going over a list of laws and regulations for your descent to Earth. As you gave her a thumbs up, you were attentively listening and mentally bookmarking everything in their designated area.

I believe I have a good understanding of everything, and I think I am prepared.” She offered you a short hug before letting you go, showing her affection for you. You were going to miss her, despite the fact that it was a mutually-surface relationship.

“Last but not least, this ordeal will be different in that people will be able to see you. But if you have to use your wings, the lad is the only one who can see you. When you arrive, he will be waiting for you. My child, best of luck and may God bless you.”

You let go of her and moved toward the road's edge, gripping your bag as you turned to face her and waved farewell as you stepped over the brink.

“Wait a minute, what if-“

When you felt a push from behind, you tumbled off the ledge and spun around in the sky, where you saw a smiling face as you glanced up. They didn't tell you that you'd have to be pushed. As you plunged to Earth, you closed your eyes, terrified. Oh, how nice.

Screaming, you descended into the atmosphere, your narrowed eyes seeing glimpses of land here and there. Not letting up you let your wings cover your whole body as you plopped down onto soft green grass.

You peered out from your wings, gasping for air, and glanced up.

“Oh, Heavens”

His physique was slender, active, and well-groomed, with a trace of bad boy behavior in his scent. The first thing that struck your eye were the rips in his jeans. How could a man-made mistake seem to be so appealing? As you raised your eyes, you noticed tattoos splattered across his arms and up to his neck. His black velvet-like wings fluttering in the breeze, he raised his palm to his hair and stroked through the old curls, deconstructing the pattern they had once formed.

“Did you just pull a Lucifer or was this all planned?” he coughed as he put out his hand to you, taking a good look at you.

Stuttering in your words you quickly got up and patted yourself off and finally looked him in the eyes, noticing his dark eyes.

“Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, I hoped to fly down here and appear more Angel-like, but I think my overseer had other ideas.”

He said, "Ah," with a bored expression on his face.

“My name is Heeseung, and if you don't mind, I assume you don't.” I guess my name is well-known in Heaven. You're probably the fifth Angel who has appeared in the last year to “assist me.” What a load of bullshit; you can't hide what's already there, you know.”

He made a pouty look as he smirked closer to you before covering his hand with his mouth and saying, “oh forgive me, I suppose I have a potty mouth.”

Panicking at this new light, you smiled and coughed loudly and suddenly, “Before you say anything else, I'd want to inform you that I'm not like those angels we don't talk about. I have a holy standard that I adhere to.

He rushed to your face, rolling his eyes at your innocence, and murmured to you, "well see about that little Ms. Purity."

As you moved back and shook your head, spurring out prayers, you tugged the strings of your bag close to you, seeming irritated. Looking up, you noticed him hovering in mid-air with his arms crossed, waiting for you.

“Whether you're coming or not, I'm in the mood for a cup of coffee. Allow me to go fetch you one so that this whole ordeal between us may be over soon and we can both return to our respective worlds.”

You instantly snap open your wings and shot up into the sky, scoffing at his rudeness, and dash by him, racing to the left.

“It's this way, dummy,” he cackled as he immediately shot out. Embarrassed and annoyed, you flipped over to his side and flew alongside him, praying to the Lord for peace as your rage subsided.

“Lord, so help me”

---

 “So, what's on the agenda, Ms. Purity? There are a lot of things I'd want to do with you. You know, if you just ditch this whole act, we might be able to have some fun. He winked at you as he sipped his drink while peering across the table.

You shook your head and chuckled, gagging at his remark, "You must get all the girls, you appear really, what's the word, competent" I'm astonished since I assumed everyone down under was inept.”

He smirked and crossed his legs as he lay startled in his chair, cocking his head to the side. It's not that you were trying to be mean; it's just what you were taught. There are no hard feelings.

“Well, as much as I'd like to keep this delightful little date going, I have a commitment to fulfill. You know, duty calls.” You quickly got up and hurried after him, confused as to where he was going, as he shot up in the air and chuckled, waving farewell to you.

“Wait, Heeseung, you can't just go away like that. We need to figure out how I'm going to find you. You're being impolite by getting up and leaving.” You made yourself look insane since you didn't realize no one could see him. You wouldn't want to be labeled as one of these Earthlings.

You beckoned him down, mentally terrified, “Please can you just come down for a damn second.” Your jaw dropped as you hurriedly covered your mouth. Heeseung's jaw dropped when he appeared in front of you, stunned.

“Gasp, I'm hearing a term I'm sure they don't say in Heaven. Hmm, I suppose the Earth changes people.” He went closer to your ear, his warm arm bouncing on your skin as he giggled, his lips inches away from yours.

“I've already entered my phone number into your phone; you do understand what a phone is, right?” Doesn't matter,  I have to get somewhere, and you can locate me later. Okay, I'll see you later.” He swept up in the air and rushed over to the bridge as he vanished into the horizon, rushing out in a haste once more.

You sat back in the coffee chair, wiped your brow, and focused mentally and spiritually, pleading with the Lord for help and forgiveness. You had a feeling this mission was going to be a disaster.

Whining, you threw your hands in the air and sat face down on the table, groaning as you realized this trek. It's no surprise that these honors are well-deserved; it takes a lot of effort.

You cautiously lifted your head and faced the barista after hearing a soft tap on your table. She smiled at you as she set down a piece of paper. You scowled as you inspected the weird set of paper.

“What a jerk, he didn't just leave me to pay for both drinks.” With a shake of your head, you reached inside your bag and drew out a wallet. Your overseer informed you that many people like flaunting and spending their money, so she provided some for you just in case.

As you cleaned up, you began to mentally map out your route through town, mentally picturing the locations and navigating your way home. As you walked over to the cashier, you handed her some money and thanked her before heading out the door.

At the very least, you landed in a fantastic location. It was in the heart of South Korea, and the city was called Seoul, a wonderful metropolis to be sure. You were taught to master specific languages for specific tasks, so communicating wasn't a problem. Despite the fact that you were new in a strange place, you were determined to make the most of it. The first step was to return home and examine the situation.

How to manage Lee Heeseung. 

Arriving at your small abode was an adventure in itself; it didn't take long for you to connect your GPS and get going. It was actually fairly pleasant and provided a change of scenery to enjoy. It's not quite Heaven, but it's still lovely. When you finally arrive at your destination, you look up to see a little, charming apartment in front of you.

They really went all out for you, and it's very much in your style. You'd felt right at home as soon as you stepped inside, as it was more modern and sophisticated.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, but it felt good to have your own little place to do anything you wanted. You could get used to this, no wonder why humans never leave their house. Who would want to leave when you have everything here. Food, entertainment, and a BALCONY!!

As you finished exploring the apartment and basked in its magnificence, you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the couch, sinking into its coziness as sleep took over your mind and body.

*Crunch, thud, bang*

As you lurched forward, you flew up your wings in defense mode, trying to understand what you'd heard.

“Who's there? I have a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it.”

When you hear a familiar giggle, you look up and see the attractive intruder. Walking over to you and snatching the pillow from your grasp he took your hand and pulled you over to the island where he had prepared some food.

As you took it all in, you smelt familiar scents and smiled, completely forgetting about it until you were reminded again.

“Wait, what are you doing in my apartment, and how did you get in?”

He began to remove some pots and pans from the stove while he placed some food on a platter, saying, "I have my methods."

“I'm not sure what you eat up there in Heaven, but I'm guessing it's all healthy and nutritious food.” You laughed and shook your hand in disbelief while shaking your head.

“I don’t think out of all places we would be eating so strictly. It's basically whatever you can get your hands on.. It's guaranteed to be better food than what you'll find in Hell.”

Pulling the dish away from him, you began to pick at the fries, popping one into your mouth and savoring the flavor, “not bad.”

He bowed in front of you, wiped the sweets from his brow, and returned to sit next to you, grabbing a dish and feeding himself some. As the night progressed, you told him the rundown for the next three months.

“So, despite the fact that you're definitely one of the worst jerks I've ever encountered. For this to function, we'll need to create certain ground rules.” Aiming a finger between you and him. “I'm not sure whether you've ever had to do anything for anyone else in your life, but it's all about serving people around here, and that's why I accepted this assignment. Even if you don't want to help yourself, I want to help you.”

As Heeseung shuffled around in his chair, avoiding eye contact with you, the atmosphere became tense.

“Harsh, but keep going.”

Smiling you continued as you tried to wrap your head around this complex creature.

“I understand that we are supposed to protect and guide you to do good, but it appears that we have progressed far beyond that, and we need to start at the source of your problem, which is most likely your heart or mind. What's going on in both?

As his words danced across your lips, he smirked and drew you closer to him.

“Now there's a secret.” 

Smirking as your face felt warm, you cocked your head to the side and touched his shoulder before getting up and setting your dish in the sink, cleaning up as piercing eyes stabbed your back.

“I understand what you're thinking, and I've got it all under control.”

He approached you and said, "If you say so," as he put his head against your ear.

2 months later 

Everything was certainly out of hand, and he was to blame. Your strategy not only failed, but it was only a matter of time until your overseer found out. And you didn’t want to end up like the last guy tossed from Heaven.

It wasn't all that bad, but who were you kidding, it was a disaster. It wasn't a major shift; rather, it was a series of modest changes. Things like accidentally cursing or hanging out with him at ungodly hours. You convinced yourself that everything was OK.

He drew you into your room and sat you down while hovering over you, gently caressing your body and kissing you.

You smiled and drew him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist and bringing him down on you, closing the distance between you.

Heeseung has been on a mission to damage your "innocent demeanor" for the past two weeks. He intended to show you that it was all a charade and that no one is actually perfect. Despite not knowing what he was going to do, you were up for the challenge. That core part of you didn't take long to succumb to his immoral impulses.

What was the problem as long as you were both happy?

“Heeseung,” you say as he draws you closer to him and unclasps your bra with his free hand. As you slowly rise to assist him, you toss the material to the ground and reach for his sweatpants.

“Someone a little needy, but we are not doing that today. Today is all about pampering my lovely angel. Is it all right?”

Nodding your head, you keep an eye on him as he goes between your legs, halting at the bottom as he eyes your breast and grasps softly as your body adjusts.

“Hurry up,” you grumble as you stare at his sinister grin. As you moan, he places gentle lips along your folds, leaning down to your core. As you twitch under his touch, his finger makes a fast dive between your folds, inciting dampness.

As you whine from the pressure, your eyes flutter shut as he switches his finger out with his tongue, softly licking up your surface.

“mm, close,” you exclaim, your lips wide open as he notices your clit, tongue flicking lustfully against it. As he presses harder on your sensitive region, he laughs as you break apart under his power.

“Oh God, right there.” 

“Please don't involve Him in this.” He hits a place as your high comes crashing down on you, chuckling at your reaction. Heeseung is holding you down and watching you quiver wildly as you release juice, which causes him to swallow it before wiping his mouth. As you fall onto his body, overwhelmed and still sensitive to the sensation, he pulls you up.

He lays your exhausted body next to his and wipes any excess arousal from his mouth before kissing your lips.

You both lay in a comfortable stillness for the remainder of the night, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you sign into his arms.

“Perhaps you're right; we're all just horny, messed-up creatures; I mean, even though what we're doing is completely wrong, it was fun to break the rules. My entire life has been focused on doing the right thing and being this upstanding angel. It's fun to deviate from the norm.” As Heeseung witnessed you erupt in rage, you became agitated.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, also I told you.” You both chuckled as you pushed him to the side before coming to a halt in the middle of your conversation, looking concerned at him.

“However, I leave tomorrow and I don't think I'll be ready to see you off, and this was not in my plan.”

“Shhh, I figured it out; just stick to my plan and we'll both come out on top.”

You sat closer to him, nodding your head and clasping your hand in his as you allowed sleep to take over your body.

As you may know, angels and humans have quite distinct punishments; some humans are never punished for their wrongdoings, whereas angels' actions are usually discovered one way or another.

And you were terrified that they would find out. The person who fell from the edge was not the same person who was returning back and everyone was going to know it. Just not right now, you had to maintain your composure as you approached your overseer.

As you were greeted with the overseer and some guards, you held Heeseung by his chains and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you were having a good time?” You shook your head and looked down, worried. You looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Yes, High Lord, I am aware of my error and what needs to be done in order to be purified once more. I accept complete responsibility for this assignment, but I crack him first, and we have all the secrets we need.”

As he observed you return to the opposite side with the overseer, Heeseung's gaze shifted up in fright. Fearing for his life, he flailed his wings in an attempt to flee.

“What the hell, Y/N, I thought we were on the same team.” How could you betray me in such a way?” You walked over to his trembling body and pushed him down so you were above him, laughing loudly. You patted his shoulder as you cackled.

“And they said angels could be trustworthy. I know what I'm worth, and it has nothing to do with you. Heseeung, please accept my apologies. Get him out of here.” The guards grabbed his chains and dragged him to a chamber across the room from you.

As she began to compliment you on your efforts, the supervisor wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“I'm proud of you, Y/N, even though you used some terrible techniques. I knew you'd be able to pull it off.”

You grinned joyously and thanked her for her faith in you as you looked up at her face. You cast another peek at Heeseung as she stepped forward, and he winked at you. Smirking before he disappeared into the room you chuckled at his behavior.

Everything was going swimmingly, and no one had a clue. I suppose taking over Heaven would be a simple task; if you can blow up the inside, everything will fall apart on its own.

"How could you hide this from all of us?" "Oh God, you underestimated me."

The Beauty of Sin.

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[witching-by-the-willow]

Weapon-room Waltz

DESCRIPTION: Listen, I wanted to write a little filler scene in Chapter 20 when they were dancing, because I stay up at night thinking about what Wrath was about to say to Emilia before Anir interrupted (😡). So, until Kerri decides to show me some mercy and tell us what he thinks she is, this will give me some sort of peace. I hope.

This fic doesn’t have any major spoilers. The text in bold italics is straight from Kingdom of the Cursed by Kerri Maniscalco, with slight changes in pronouns to fit the third-person narrative. 

Hope you enjoy, feedback is very welcome. ❤

Right step back, follow with left. Emilia kept repeating the movement Wrath had taught her in her head, still worried about stepping on his toes and making a fool of herself. Or worse yet, giving him an opportunity to gloat.

Dancing in a room filled with weapons with a half-naked partner should have felt odd, but instead, it felt serene. Right. She could have been swaying here for minutes or hours and not noticed the difference. 

Wrath’s voice through their maneuvering brought her out of her thoughts as she looked up at him, mischief shining in his eyes. She took a deep breath and said a quick prayer to all the goddesses to bless her with her enough restraint to keep from slamming her heeled shoe on his foot. There was no reason for him to look so pleased.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down at her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented at dancing and killing, and forget everything else. Except for how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself; she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down to the small of her back, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.”

The warmth of him, his praise, the hard muscle beneath her fingertips...all had her swaying nearer. Wrath placed his lips against her ear.

“You’re exquisite.”

She froze, acutely aware of the flush currently making its way down her neck. Curse him for having this effect on her. Putting up with a smug Wrath was the last thing she wanted to do.

As if the goddesses had decided to do her a favour, a memory from their first meeting in the cave came back to her as inspiration.

She smirked as she brought her own lips close to his ear and imitated his tone in her one whispered word.

“Liar.”

Wrath pulled back a little- though she noticed his hand stayed at her back, keeping them close- and arched a brow. He had picked up on his favourite word being used on him, just as she'd hoped. “I speak the truth and only the truth, my lady. Or do you have some inhibitions about your own captivating beauty.”

She willed her voice to remain even, trying not to give away how his words made her want to hide her face in a pillow and scream with delight. After she’d kissed him senseless. No, focus.

“Oh no, You’re Highness. I have no doubts about my allure.” His other eyebrow shot up. “But I seem to recall a certain demon Prince finding me quite repulsive not too long ago.”

She saw the precise moment he remembered what she was talking about and bit back a giggle as he tried to come up with something to say. 

She would spare him the effort. For the moment. Doing her best mimicry of his deep, smooth voice, she started. “You’d need to be the last creature in all the realms combined for me to want you, witch. Even then it might not be enough to tempt me.” She paused to observe him as he huffed, the sound awfully close to a laugh. “I believe those were your exact words, Your Highness.”

“That was before I knew you. And to be fair, you looked quite haggard at the time.”

Now, it was her turn to raise a brow. “Thank you.”

“What I meant was, that was before I knew you. Or saw you in other...forms.”

“And?”

He closed his eyes, seemingly wanting to vanish in a mass of smoke. “And I might have changed my mind.”

Good. But she was not quite done yet. “So you admit defeat, then?”

His eyes flew open as he frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“You were wrong. And failed to fight off my charm. This is the moment all the realms have been waiting for. The mighty General of War has lost a battle of wills. Hell ought to bow down to me for achieving this feat."

Wrath was fighting a smile, and for some reason, it gave her visceral joy. "You are entirely too proud of yourself, my lady. But your dramatics aside, I would argue I'm the victor here." His smile slipped free at her scowl, and he pressed a chaste kiss to her nose. "Look at me, in a room full of lethal weapons, dancing with an equally lethal fiancée, who has gone from miserably failing her assassination attempt at me to performing a magnificent Waltz with me. I am perfectly content right here, and if that is your victory, then I will gladly lose to you everyday." 

Emilia swore she could have melted from the warmth in his eyes. His words were making any wall she'd managed to put up against him crumble to the floor of this cursed room. Stupid Prince. Stupid spectacular Prince. 

He bent down slowly, much too slowly for her liking, and met her lips with his in a tender kiss. Not hurried or fueled by hunger. This kiss was gentle, leisurely in a way that felt like they'd done this a thousand times, and would have time to do it a thousand more.

She was contemplating running her tongue across his bottom lip and deepening their kiss when someone cleared their throat loudly, making her jerk away from their embrace.

"I hate to interrupt, Your Majesty, but I believe you made sure your Palace had a thing called Bedchambers for such activities. And Is this a godsdamn ballroom now?” Anir propped himself against the doorjamb, arms crossed. A lazy grin spread across his face as he batted his lashes. “Will you be teaching this new technique to all of the soldiers, your highness, or just us pretty ones?”

With what appeared to be immense effort, Wrath tore his gaze from her, but didn’t release them from their position. “A good fighter is skilled in weapons. A great fighter is skilled in dance. Perhaps I’ll appoint you as the new dance master.”

“While that sounds titillating, I do come with news from the dungeon.” Anir pushed himself up from the spot where he’d casually leaned, his expression serious. “It’s the mortal.”

~~~~~

Note: Oh, lord. I'm so insecure about any scene that involves romance, mostly because I am clueless in ✨matters of love✨ So, please do tell me if it was bearable, and if you have any tips for me, I'm all ears! Once again, feedback of all kind is welcome! ❤❤

@ssardothien @ghostiewriter @feysandfeels @city-of-fae @kingandfireheart @evolving-dreamer @bookologist @godscursedd @sirendeepity @quinlars @gwynlaithlunel @tea-istic @polaroidsintheocean @lost-in-fictionn @rubyriveraqueen @dadopedirectioner @trowen @effervescent-bean @zombichlerka @snickerdoodlechittybangbang @wrathscannoli @lysandra-ghost-leopard @tessvirtch @the-introverted-reader @leviorsa @readingbooksbymoonlight

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the tags, let me know!

[shurisneakers]

shut in [epilogue]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: anxiety, ptsd, swearing

Word count: 4k

A/N: annnnd we’re done :)) thank you to my resident bully @midnightsunfae for really getting this fic off the ground and helping with the planning. ily upo and thank you to everyone who’s read this series over the 5 months it’s been going on. it’s meant the absolute world to me :’)

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, an indicator of the nervousness that was building to a crescendo in your chest.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked, hand placed gently on your forearm.

You nodded, eyes downcast. If you looked at him, you wouldn’t be able to find it in yourself to follow through with it.

“I am,” you said quietly, swallowing to get rid of the lump in your throat.

“Okay,” he confirmed, letting his arm drop gently.

Ten minutes to go. You took a sip of water nervously. The glass had already found itself shifting back and forth on the table in search of the perfect place. It was a fruitless quest anyway.

The door was painted a dark green, steps leading up to it from the pavement.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” you asked quietly, standing a stair below him in apprehension. Neither of you had contacted him or sent a message, just showed up at his place exhausted and covered in a thin layer of dirt.

“I know he won’t.” Sam raised his fist to knock thrice, a pause before knocking two more times.

A code.

He turned around slightly, checking to see if you were fine. The longer you stood out there, the more afraid you were of someone spotting the both of you, putting an end to your life before it even began. You had a feeling that paranoia would continue for a long time.

The door swung open, revealing a tall man with blonde hair leaning against the doorway with one arm. There was a nick above his eyebrow, an old scar that hadn’t faded over time. Even though his other hand was concealed behind the door, you could tell that he was holding something by the way his muscles were clenched. Years of training wouldn’t disappear overnight.

"Sam." Surprise overtook his face in a second. "You're alive."

"Don't sound so happy, I can't handle it." Sam rolled his eyes, an affectionate smile on his face. "This is Y/N, we need a place to stay."

“It’s just been a while since I heard from you, man. Coming from a hit?” Riley didn’t think twice about moving aside, scrutinising dried blood on your person as you walk past. “Nice to meet you, I’m Riley.”

It was a cane in his hand. Sam’s mention of his limp flashed in your mind.

You gave him a small wave and a quiet re-introduction of yourself, following Sam into the house.

“You could say that.” Sam paused, a hand on Riley’s shoulder as he says something out of your ear shot to him.

Riley’s face turned stoic immediately, a nod of his head and a deep exhale soon following. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” You pressed your lips together in a straight line with a corner quirked upwards, a half smile of sorts.

“Bathroom’s down the hall, to the right.” He pointed out the direction. “I’m getting you some food. Gumbo still your thing, Wilson?”

“Anything other than peanut butter.”

Riley was a blessing you could have never prepared for; knowing exactly what you both would need and anticipating emotions you had no idea you’d be feeling. For someone who had guests show up completely uninvited to crash on his couch, he was ready as ever, given that he had been through the same thing a while ago.

It was difficult. Fuck that, it was one of the hardest things to go; not pretending like everything around you would fall into soon and that you would be fine because you had to. You had worked too damn hard for you not to be.

But you knew things weren’t going to be fine right off the bat and it would be foolish to think it was.

“Sam, look at me,” you commanded gently, but there was an edge of firmness to your tone. You were sitting on the bench near the entrance of the park.

“I’m sorry, things were going good and I thought-” He shook his face that was hiding in his palm, elbows resting on his knees.

His attacks didn’t come nearly as frequently as yours. It was easy to think that he had no trauma just because he learnt how to deal with it better.

“Look at me, Sammy.” It was just a walk in the park, a stroll that should have lasted twenty minutes tops. You had been on that trail before for the same purpose but something triggered him today, someone’s gaze who lingered too long on the both of you.

He clenched his fists, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Breathe with me.” You exaggerated the movements to have him follow, a system the both of you had come up with when anxiety attacks used to hit at random. A temporary solution to an aftermath that would go on for hours, days even.

It took him a few staggered breaths to get there, finally falling into routine with you. He could feel his heartbeat slow to what it was but the pit in his stomach wouldn’t subside for a while.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” you reassured, still making sure he was breathing with you. You were nervous too and your eyes were still darting about to survey your surroundings, but he needed you at that moment. “We’re safe. We’re okay.”

“No one’s here,” he mumbles, interlacing your fingers and bringing it to his forehead to lean against your hand.

“We’re okay,” you repeated, giving him the space he needed. “We’re okay.”

“Will someone be joining you?” The waiter prodded softly. If it wasn’t your incessant tapping at the table, the clammy palms and constant checking of your watch was a clear giveaway that you could use a bit of kindness that day.

“Yeah, any minute now.” You smiled at her. She simply nodded, refilling your glass of water before leaving you alone.

You looked at your watch and sighed.

Seven minutes.

Things were fine. Things were good.

Sam and you were… undefined. Labels almost seemed too constrictive for now and it wasn’t like the both of you didn’t know what the other felt. It was kind. It was soft. Sometimes you kissed his cheek when the sunlight bounced off his face while he watered the succulents and the smile he gave you was addictive. Other times he snaked an arm around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder while you watched the street from the kitchen window.

It made you happy, and so you tried to force away the stem of doubt that creeped into your heart.

Riley had introduced the concept of movie nights and the occasional mob movie would make it in there just to poke fun at. He showed you around the city, inviting you to go grocery shopping with him at the farmers market, the best places to get a glimpse of the music scene or to subtly point out potential date night spots.

He was a genuinely nice guy, and if you thought Sam was fun to hang out with, you were not prepared for the both of them together. You could tell why Sam adored him.

“Y/N, I don’t know how you stayed with him for all that time and didn’t murder him in his sleep.” Riley glared at Sam who had once again left his collection of music CDs strewn around on a couch. It was all in jest; it was well known that Sam found an anchor in music that kept him up late at night for a sense of calm.

“It was a close call sometimes,” you added playfully, giving Sam a grin.

“You weren’t exactly easy to survive with either.” He scoffed. “How many times did we watch Megamind in a row? Eight?”

“You wouldn’t stop watching Die Hard,” you accused, arms crossed over your chest. “It was payback.”

“You made the rule saying we couldn’t watch things more than twice in a row and you broke it first.”

“I’m gonna go,” Riley interjected. “But y’all keep at this. I heard it’s good for your soul.”

“Stay there,” Sam demanded, pointing to where he was standing a second ago. “You’re gonna be play judge since you started this shit.”

“I really don’t want to.” He shook his head, staying put nonetheless, amusement clear as day on his face.

“The laundry.”

“The dishes.”

You both narrowed your eyes at each other. His argument didn’t hold a match to yours.

“You know what, I was wrong,” Riley announced to no one in particular. “I’m pretty sure you guys would kill each other under any other circumstance.”

The smile on your face faltered but you straightened it back out with a clearing of your throat before firing a comeback.

It was barely a second, almost unnoticeable. But Sam caught it.

Four minutes.

Almost time.

The tapping became more intense, and the rate at which you pulled out your phone to check the time increased.

Fuck, this was a bad idea. How were you supposed to behave with him after all this time?

Something was wrong. Something was off.

Sam wasn’t blind to it. He could see it under the smile you eased into at game night, the complaining when too much food was ordered for three people to eat, the good natured teasing when he rolled over to your side of the bed at night to steal your blanket.

Something was eating at you, gnawing at you from the inside.

His suspicion was confirmed when you whispered at 2am one night to what you thought was an asleep partner that you wanted to move out. Find a place of your own.

His stomach dropped instantly but he didn’t so much as move a muscle.

“I need to get out. I need to have a life,” you sniffed, doing your best not to wake him up as you traced circles into his skin lightly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be independent. I won’t know unless I figure it out myself.”

The air had a chill to it and it was one of the times you had asked him to sleep in the guest bedroom with you instead of on his own, knowing that it was one of those nights where you could use a little extra warmth.

“Even when we were in there I couldn’t stop thinking about whether this thing between us was just because we were forced to stay together. You said it wasn’t, and I know that but I can’t help but think-” Your voice cracked. “Would you come back to me if things were different?”

He didn’t answer, even though he knew what he wanted to say with all the certainty in the world. Your fingers continued to draw on his skin. He continued to let you.

Sam didn’t even bring up the conversation that morning, or that week. Instead, he held you a bit closer whenever he could and gave you the space to hopefully open up to him on your own time, letting you know that he’d be there to listen.

It took a while. You both were in the middle of watching a movie that wasn’t Die Hard when you told him that you needed to talk to him about something. The hesitancy in your voice and the fixation your fingers had with the hem of your sweater was painful to witness.

He understood, of course. He always did. That you needed to experience what it was like to live, not survive. That decades of living with other kids, living under an abuser, living in a safehouse for months, was restrictive and suffocating and you needed to find what made you happy.

And so did he. It was something both of you had to do eventually, exit the bubble you had been staying in under such ardent protection for those two months.

Riley was wonderfully supportive of it, vowing to find you the best apartment that New Orleans had to offer. You didn’t doubt it.

His place had been colourful and bright and everything you could have asked for after the monotone walls you were used to. But it wasn’t yours.

A few weeks later you had moved out. Sam left a lingering kiss on your forehead, a sign to say that he’d be here whenever, whatever.

You made a Shakira joke. He laughed.

A completely fresh new start. If you failed now, it was all on you.

And what a terrifying thought that was.

It had been four months since you had left Riley’s apartment behind.

Four months since you had seen either of them.

The cafe was starting to feel too small for this event. Too intimate, too-

When the bell above the cafe chimes, something at the back of your mind instantly wakes up, sending you on high alert.

“Y/N?” he called out from behind you.

You knew he’d be early.

“Sam.” You breathed out, standing up to face him.

Video calls didn’t do him any justice. He had a particular glow to him, an aura of confidence that wasn’t there the last time you saw him. His beard was neatly trimmed and the smile that tugged at his lips the minute you caught his eye was beautiful.

You didn’t realise how different he looked until the time apart. Months of makeshift workouts and peanut butter as your only source of protein had done a number on him. You remembered him being leaner, and what you now realised was the constant burden of fatigue on his face.

“You look good.” An understatement escaped you, but he did.

He had a deep blue shirt on that hugged him in all the right places. Months of seeing him only black and grey had you damn near drooling when he wore other colours after you got out.

Not that you were staring, but his biceps had definitely made a wonderful return.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam sent you a smile that instantly put you at ease. “Independence looks good on you, sweetheart.”

You gave a small laugh, gesturing for him to take a seat. Should you have hugged him? Shook his hand? Kissed hi-

“It’s been a while,” he politely interrupted your overthinking. “How are things going?”

You let out a small breath. It was a big question, one that you had answered over text and call a few times but it was different now. He was in front of you now and you couldn’t bullshit the way you used to on call occasionally.

“Weird,” you admitted. “I don’t know what to do with myself now that I have all this time.”

“It takes some gettin’ used to.” He nodded in agreement, leaning back in his chair.

A lot of your time went into trying new hobbies. Knitting, pottery, drawing- anything that you could get your hands on. Things didn’t always catch on, some discarded just after the first week. Others stuck, bringing you bits of triumph every time you moved forward with your newfound skill.

“You still seein’ your therapist?” He flashed a smile at the waitress who filled his glass of water.

Ah, yes. Dr. Bishop had been one of the first people you sought out.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of water. “See her weekly.”

You still had money left over from all the hit jobs that you had done. As much as you wanted to leave every inkling of that life behind, you needed the cash to live. You had enough for the time being, but you knew that eventually you had to start working; if not for the money then for the peace of mind.

“How’s that goin’?”

“She thinks I talk in elaborate metaphors. The gang’s what I call my toxic family, he was my abusive father, stuff like that.”

There were moments where you thought you saw someone you knew standing at a corner, vendors giving you icy looks from across the street, footsteps outside your door that seemed too damn loud. But nothing ever came of it.

“Thanks for the tip, by the way.” You extended a smile to him in appreciation for the idea.

“Worked with my therapist, figured it would be the same with yours.” He shrugged casually. It wasn’t like you wanted to lie to her, and you weren’t. But some things were better left in the dark.

“But I think it’s helping.” You exhaled deeply, eyes downcast. “The nightmares are reducing.”

“That’s a lot of progress.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward in pride.

Several feelings erupted from that look, some that you’d spend the whole day revelling in if you didn’t force yourself to move on.

“How about you?” you diverted the subject back to him. “How’s Riley?”

“He says he misses ya.” Sam laughed. “Says he can’t handle me alone, that he needs you back to save him.”

“What have you been doing to that poor man?” you teased, easing back into your seat. “He was fine when I left him.”

“He’s got a fancy new job now and it’s been going to his head. Needed a little humbling.”

“You’re not going too hard on him, are you?” Even though you knew he wasn’t, it was fun to make sure.

“Nah, I’d say it’s just about the right amount.” Sam grinned and you felt the familiar flutter return to your stomach. “I’ve been doing good. Working on getting my license.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that going?” You were thrilled when he said he was going to look into becoming a youth counselor, knowing that it was something he had been genuinely wanting to do for ages.

“With my background, or lack of it, it’s a little trickier than I thought it would be,” he divulges a bit more seriously. “Riley’s been pulling a few strings and I got a few contacts but it’s gonna take some more time.”

You bit your lip, worry rising for him. He deserved it, he earned it. It fucking sucked that it wasn’t going to be an easy, direct path.

“We’ll figure it out,” you said quietly, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his in reassurance.

The contact brings with it a small spark. You wondered if he still felt it.

“Yeah. We will.” He sent you a soft smile at your action, not making any effort to move it. “You been on any dates lately?”

You let out a snort at that. “Loads. Have fellas lining up at every corner for me.”

“I bet.” He’s more bold, a bit more open than he was in the first month when you both got out. “How many of them do I have to fight off?”

“I’d say six as a rough estimate.” Your expression mimicked one of consideration. “I hope you’ve been getting your hours in at the gym.”

“I’ll kick it up a notch,” he promised, hands raised in surrender.

“You better. We’re supposed to go for laser-tag.” A dumb callback to a joke he made on one of your last days there.

“Or paintball.” He remembered. It made you unnecessarily giddy. “I added an escape room to the list too.”

“Hilarious,” you fired at him, rolling your eyes slightly but the happiness on your face proved otherwise.

His laughter died down eventually, paving the way for the comfortable silence that lingered between you both. Your eyes fell down to where your hand still held his, biting your lip to conceal a smile.

“Y/N,” he called out, pulling your gaze back to his. “Jokes aside… how are you?”

You let out a breath at his question. You knew it was coming.

“Riley found me an apartment,” you murmured.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“It’s a nice place. Lots of sunlight. Quiet too.” You toyed with your fingers. “But it’s about an hour away. More if you consider traffic.”

Sam set his phone down gently on the bedside table, indicating that you had his full attention.

“I don’t want you to think I’m abandoning you, because I’m not. I wouldn’t, I just-”

“Hey,” he interrupted calmly, twisting his body to face you. “I don’t think you’re abandoning me. If this is what you need, then you should do it.”

“I don’t know if this is what I need. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never been-” the frustration in your voice only increased as you went on. “-I don’t even know if this is going to work. What if I hate it?”

“Finding out what you hate is just as important as what you like, I think.” He watched you toy with the fidget square he had gotten you. “And you know that if you don’t feel like it, then you can come back here at any moment.”

“I know.” It was a comforting thought. A safety net.

“But would this make you happy?” That caught you by surprise.

It wasn’t something you had thought of. You thought of the negative consequences, the devastating effects it could have on you, how it could be the worst possible decision you’d ever make.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, a new anxiety setting in. “I guess we’ll see.”

You liked the neighbours who played the piano way too loud at 2am, the really terrible coffee at the therapist’s office and the feeling the paper plane on your dresser gave you when you occasionally looked at it.

You didn’t like how hot the apartment could get, especially during the afternoon, or the guy who sold magazines down the street who cursed at everyone for no reason, or the gentrified Indian food they served at the mall.

But Sam was right. Figuring out what you didn’t like was just as beautiful a journey as figuring out what you did.

“I’m happy.” You breathed out. “Or I'm working towards being happy. But it’s there.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. Simply slipped his palm under yours to lift your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m proud of you.”

If anyone could feel the heat that rose to your face they would probably think you had a fever.

The fear that you had, the one of what things would be like if you weren’t forced to survive in a confined space together, had begun to fade the minute he called out your name that day.

It was Sam. Your Sam.

You shake yourself out of your train of thought with a small smile, making a move to gather up your belongings without letting go of his hand for a second.

“Well, c’mon then. Those paintballs aren’t going to shoot themselves.”

“Are you saying this is a date?” There was a smirk on his face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Would you still consider it one once I annihilate you?” You tilted your head in a challenge.

“That would never happen, first of all.” He scoffed. “Second… I was thinking that maybe we could do something normal for a change.”

That had you more interested than the prospect of adventure sports. You had enough of it for a lifetime, frankly speaking.

“Lead the way, Cinnamon.” He only rolled his eyes at the nickname, sending you a vaguely threatening look. You just laughed.

“This place got good coffee?” He looked around at the establishment and its patrons.

“One of the best.”

“Then I don’t see why we have to go anywhere else,” he offered and you nodded, relaxing back into your place with the same sense of warmth in your heart that only intensified with his proposal.

He raised his hand up to flag the server, the same girl who had been helping you out since you got there, asking for two menus.

The smile he sent her was infectious. It was good.

“Sam,” you began quietly. “I missed you.”

His eyes softened, the sunlight reflecting in it making it shine like dravite. “I missed you, too.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress stands beside you with a notepad.

He looked at you and you nodded with a smile.

Things were different. You were different.

And he still came back to you.

--fin--

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <3

thank you so much for reading!

[eirikaanemo]

Venti falls in love with an Inazuman rebel. The rebel has no vision, but what they do have is a belief that everyone has an inherent right to live freely. How does Venti know about this rebel in the first place? I honestly have no idea...

Visionless Visionary

Venti x GN!Reader

1.8k Words

Warning: Minor character death mentioned, prayer (if that bothers you)

Disclaimer: I knew next to nothing about Baal when I wrote this, so it may not be an accurate representation of her character.

Inazuma is a mess. That is just a fact now. Baal has suddenly become violent and a danger to her people. So many had done nothing but hold a vision she had bestowed upon them in the first place. And because of that, she struck your cousin down. You can still remember the thump of his lifeless body hitting the ground and the steady tap, tap, tap of Baal’s shoes as she walked away.

She seemed completely unaffected by her actions. You were anything but. The scene played over and over in your nightmares for weeks, and continues to haunt you. So when the rebellion reached out to you for support you were happy to assist. You found out he had just joined their ranks and that’s why he had been targeted.

However, you don’t have a vision so there’s only so much you can do. Of course they always welcome financial support and you gave it to the best of your ability. But you knew there had to be more you could do. So you spoke to some people and it was agreed that you would go to Mondstadt and position Barbatos for his support for your cause.

He hadn’t been seen in centuries, but he was the god of freedom, right? If anyone could help them, it would be him. So with the rebellion’s blessing you took your savings and made the long journey to Mondstadt.

Finding lodging was fairly easy. The people of Mondstadt were more than willing to help you. Especially once they found out what you were there to do. ‘Such a great and admirable cause,’ they said. ‘May Barbatos bless you!’ And all you could do was hope he did.

You prayed every morning and every night for help for your people. The heavens seemed quiet, but you didn’t let that dissuade you. Surely your sheer persistence would make a difference, you reasoned. And so you kept on.

One night, rather early on, you ran into a bard not long after your evening prayer. He had been not too far from the statue and you were captivated by the beauty of the song he played. It was ancient Inazuman and for just a moment you were able to forget and be caught up in the memories of better days.

When the song ended you were disappointed and tried not to pout. Judging from the laugh the bard let out when he saw you, it must have still shown on your face. “Did you like the song?” He asks. “I know I didn’t play for long. Would you like to hear another?”

“I would love to,” you admit. He smiles and simply starts on another song, this one also of Inazuma origin. From there he transitions into a more Mondstadtian style, singing The Ballad of Freedom. You know it well, as it’s a favorite of many of the rebels. As the last note fades he turns back to you.

“What brings you here, I wonder. Has it to do with your country being torn asunder?” He inquires.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’ve come to ask Lord Barbatos for his assistance in our cause. We fight for freedom from Baal, who has become nothing but a tyrant. As for me personally, well, she killed my cousin right in front of me. Her only reasons being the vision she bestowed upon him herself not many years ago and his belief that what she was doing was wrong. No one should have to suffer that.”

“Indeed, it seems you have a need. Your cause is just and swords you thrust. But the archons don’t just help everyone, so prove to him you’re worthy of some.”

“But how do I do that?” You question the cryptic bard.

“You’ll see in time, dear friend of mine!” He winks and you find your face warming. “Though I have a question if you don’t mind. Is the assistance you’re seeking a vision like mine?” He taps the glowing turquoise vision sitting on his belt by his hip.

“No,” you shake your head. “After what happened to my cousin, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with a vision. For me they’ve been nothing but trouble.” He nods in understanding.

“I see how that would be. I must take my leave for now, we’ll see each other later anyhow.” And he’s off into the night.

He’s right that this is far from the last time you see him. And he’s right that you start noticing the tests that Barbatos has set before you. More and more people seek your help in one thing or another, especially since the one they call “honorary knight” left to Liyue. There’s much to do, but you’re happy to help them.

Eventually you stop helping them because it’s a test and start helping them because you want to; because it’s the right thing to do. You help Lisa organize the library. You help Barbara clean the cathedral. You help Amber keep watch. You help Venti with his performances from time to time. You stand in for Diluc’s barkeep while he recovers from an illness.

Days and days have passed and your relationship with Venti grows and grows. You notice more and more things about him that you rather like. His laugh. His eyes. His hands. His music. His sense of humor. His optimism.

Really, everything about him is amazing. You try to deny it at first. But you know deep down that you’re falling in love. And you’re seeing some hints that he might be too. Lots of them, because he’s started flirting with you almost constantly.

However, as your relationship grows, your hope dwindles. It’s been weeks! You’ve helped so many people and have prayed so many times. And yet you have not received an answer. Not even an acknowledgement that he has heard.

When you express your concern and discouragement to Venti, he is very concerned. “I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay,” you explain. “While I would hate to return empty handed, I can’t stay here forever.”

“Try just one more time, for me?” he asked you, looking a little guilty despite not having reason to be. It’s not like he was keeping Barbatos from speaking with you. As if he could sense your hesitance he sweetened the deal. “If you do, I’ll give you a kiss!” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and flashed you a mischievous smile and you felt a warm blush bloom on your face.

“Alright,” you grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll try one more time.” His resulting cheer and more cheery smile were nearly enough to have made you do it by themselves.

That night you approached his statue, feeling unreasonably nervous compared to the nights before. “Lord Barbatos,” you prayed. “I seek thy assistance for my people’s cause. We seek the freedom thou dost represent. Someday may we all be free to live our lives reasonably, but as we please. This is my vision, my hope. Please, if it be thy will, let thy winds be not still. Guide us to better days, for this is what I pray.”

You stay there for a long moment, waiting. Then, the wind picks up and you hear a voice from it. It seems vaguely familiar but you can’t quite figure out why.

“Your diligence and passion for your cause has secured my blessing,” the winds whispered. “My winds will be at your back and support your cause. However, if you accept a vision despite your fears, you will be able to do far more. The wind will whisper secrets to your ears. All plans spoken will be carried to your ears.

“You need not fight with it. Trust in me, that I will not strike you down for accepting this gift. In your time here in my home I have found you to be a friend to us so I will be a friend to you.”

You feel tears come to your eyes. “I accept,” you whisper. This will be incredibly valuable.There’s no way you could turn it down. And this is the kind of god you can trust and accept a vision from. He is as kind, generous, and benevolent as his people.

After a moment of silence, the winds calm and a gleaming turquoise vision lies before you, dangling from a necklace like a pendant. It’s smaller than some others you’ve seen and is hidden easily when you slide it over your head and under your shirt. That will be invaluable when you return to Inazuma. It would be most suspicious for you to return with one after everything that’s happened.

You take another moment to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. Then you take a particularly deep breath to steady yourself and make your way back to Venti. “How did it go?” He asks, and you smile in response.

“It went very well,” you said, pulling the pendant out to show him your new vision. “Now we match! Now… I believe I was promised a kiss?”

The smile on his face at your teasing words could have lit up a room, if you were in one. He took your hands in his and tugged you closer gently before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was a pleasant kiss, chaste but lingering and sweet.

He giggled at the face you made when he pulled away. You joined it, adding your laughter to his. Between the blessing and his kiss you felt like you were on top of the world. Then you remembered something that brought you down from your high.

“Venti, you know this means I have to leave now, right?” You inquire.

His face fell to a serious and thoughtful expression before it softened and he sent you a small smile. “Yeah, I know. You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” you respond softly. “I love you too.”

He nods. “Then I’ll wait for you. So don’t take too long, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll do what I can,” you reply.

Your parting is sad, but hopeful as he waves you goodbye until you’re so far away that he can’t see you. He sings nearly nothing but sappy love songs for the next week. He misses you, but knows you’ll be back. His winds won’t let anything happen to you after all.

When you return to Inazuma you find that all the rebels with anemo visions had their power boosted, the ships sailed swifter with the wind behind them, and the information the wind brought you gave you many victories. The struggle was still difficult, but the help you had obtained made a serious difference and soon enough you were headed back to Mondstadt.

You are headed home. After all, home is where the heart is.

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