#i am however almost done with the next chapter :3

[webbyghost]

Your Doug Davis fic with Mina? *Chef kiss* One of the best fics I've ever read in my life <3 I love it.

Oh my god???? Thank you, this is so sweet ;_;

[tiamathh]

METAMORPHOSIS - CHANGES IN YOUR LIFE

Note: Hello! Thank you for waiting! I hope everyone's doing well, stay hydrated loves 🤭 <33 Check out my Masterlist for more! <3 LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE V APPRECIATED!!

1 -> 3

Do not plagiarise, reword, steal, repost or replicate my work!

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Pile 1

The next phase in your life is going to include you moving away from home. This can either include you moving out of your actual house and living independently or you distancing yourself from the familiarity of what feels like home and trying to step out of your comfort zone. You are supposed to be going on a journey or a trip and this is actually going to be life changing for you. If you have a trip marked on your calendar let me tell you something, you're going to be feeling very in touch with your emotions, if you've built walls around you or are someone who frequents the phrase "why am I supposed to care?" etc to protect yourself from caring too much because you think it's cringe or it makes you uncomfortable, times are changing finally. You're going to be owning the way you feel, you're going to be more open about how you feel and give yourself space to be more vulnerable around the people you love and cherish, not feeling like you have to keep up the "tough" image and truly letting yourself live laugh love.

You are entering a time where your relationships are going to be flourishing, some of you have been through a rough few months when it comes to the people around you, you may be feeling used, betrayed, cheated or even sidelined by them. However new people are coming into your life, they're not only going to be on the same level as you but they'll also be people who will be a little contrasting personality wise like they'll fill the gaps for example if you're not good at communicating but they are and if they're not good at being vulnerable but you are, there's going to be a very healthy exchange of energies and it will help you maintain a sense of self without being overly dependent on them or developing a codependent relationship. Also I have to mention you're finally going to be getting a break, you'll get time to rest and relax and just take a seat because a lot of work you may have done in the past, and this I'm getting could be referring to the past few years related to academics or career, is going to be bearing fruit, making life feel more easy breezy for you lot!

Pile 2

Really good messages coming in for you pile 2! To begin with you may have been feeling a little stagnant lately, not in a bad way, just in a "stuck in a monotonous routine" kind of way, where there's nothing wrong but it just feels full and unexciting. That's changing for you, you're going to be entering a time of your life where things will still be peaceful and calm just slightly more fast paced so that you have to work harder to keep up. Anyone that you haven't moved on from in the past, or even anything maybe people maybe situations, you're going to be shedding off that old skin and almost starting over, there will be a new chapter which will be making you feel more enthusiastic about life. You're realising that you don't need to carry the weight of your past around and are going to be putting yourself out there more, you'll be healing and maybe working with balancing your energies. During this time it would be good for you to engage with energy healing or chakra work as well as soundbaths.

After a long while, you'll be more comfortable being alone, you won't be feeling lonely when you're alone but rather use that time for introspection and working on yourself. This time alone will give you a lot of insight about what you actually want when you strip away everything that society or societal norms tell you you need to achieve. Who would you want to be in life if you didn't have any obligations to anyone? Those are the kinds of questions you will be answering and it'll make you more confident in your skin as well, because you'll truly realise who you are and what you want. I keep seeing the fool so this also shows to me that there's a new chapter opening for you, one where you can make mistakes, you SHOULD make mistakes so that you can learn and grow without dire consequences looming over you. Fresh starts are great for that <33

Pile 3

Hi Pile 3! I feel like with this pile, some of you may be struggling a LOT with breaking past patterns, you may be unable to get out of bad habits because you feel comfortable in that pattern of predictability even if it's bad for you, even against your good judgement. For some of you this could be addiction, which is very difficult to deal with and I'm sorry if any of you are going through that, addiction doesn't necessarily have to be related to substance abuse (even if it could be) it can also be related to shopping or escapism and you will be finding yourself being free of it soon. World has been feeling too fast for you as opposed to the other piles, so for you things are finally slowing down, you're nowhere near the completion of a cycle, in fact you may have started one the end of this August/start of September, so you still have a few months for the cycle to end, it'll probably end somewhere next year around February or March (probably March end though). You need to realise that this is the phase of your life you should focus on, going slow is a good thing! It means you can check yourself and your surroundings, that you can be more present in moments in your daily life, that you can cherish the people and situations around you.

This is a time in your life where you'll be celebrating your wins a lot more, you'll be building your wealth and earning, also a lot of savings! You'll be saving money, bringing down your spending and truly deciding what you need to buy and what you will use if you buy it, so a lot more thought will go into where you're putting your money.

Lastly, if you feel like you've been wronged recently, don't worry, divine justice is in the works, you were "betrayed" or "misled" by someone so that you could be removed for a situation where you had no growth potential, doesn't mean it was right though, neither was the gaslighting that came after (ultra specific) and the person or people who did this will get theirs in due time and you may be present to witness it front row!

All Rights Reserved tiamathh©® DO NOT PLAGIARISE, REWORD, STEAL!

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | epilogue

Summary: Cry Baby went on a date? And, it was with Bucky?

Warning: Fluff. Mentions of John Walker.

Word Count: 977

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Book Two: Good Graces

A/N: And that's it, done. Thank you to every single reader of this story. Thank you all for your input, your comments, and your requests. I know you all fell in love with Cry Baby as much as I did and I couldn't be more grateful to you all. As you know, this isn't the true end of Cry Baby and I will be revisiting it (technically this is only the first draft) however, I will take a small break from these two idiots until August to work on my other stories. So, if you want to check them out too, please do! I love you sweethearts. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

The next few weeks felt like a dream. You spent every available moment with Bucky, rediscovering each other. It felt as if you were meeting for the first time, yet, the deep connection you shared made you feel like you were home. 

On the night of your first official date, Bucky knocked on your apartment door. He stood waiting with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. Your smile grew as you saw him, his usual confidence mixed with a hint of nervousness. 

“You ready?” he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes. 

You held the pink motorcycle helmet he had bought you, matching his grin. “Ready.” 

The roar of Bucky’s bike and the warmth of his presence made you feel at ease as you rode to the restaurant. Your heart sank, and your smile faltered as you saw which restaurant he had brought you to. The same one as John Walker had almost a year ago. 

Bucky noticed the change in your demeanor, reaching out, he placed a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to him. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you took a deep breath, trying to mask the discomfort. “It’s just… this place brings back some memories.” 

“I know,” he spoke softly, his eyes filling with understanding. “That’s why I brought you here.” 

Confused etched its way to your face, clouding your gaze. “But why? Why would you bring me to a place with such bad memories?” 

His voice was earnest as his hand moved to cup your cheek. “I hoped we could create better ones, replace those memories with new ones, ones that we make together.” 

The apprehension you felt dissolved as your heart melted from the sincerity, and genuine hope in his eyes. “You really thought about this, didn’t you?” 

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I want to turn all the places that once held pain into places filled with joy and love.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew the verdict before he could ask. They were tears of happiness. “Bucky… that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

He took your hand, leading you toward the restaurant, stopping only to open the door for you. The ambiance felt different this time, the evening already felt lighter and full of possibilities. Bucky pulled out a chair for you as you both sat down.

As the night progressed, you immersed yourselves in conversation, sharing stories, and laughing as if you were strangers on a first date. “All I could think while he was talking was ‘I don’t even like steak, John!’” you exclaimed, recounting the details of that date with John to Bucky.

Bucky listened intently, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he leaned forward, reaching his hand across the table– interlocking his fingers with yours. “Well, we both know how that ended up for him, Sweetheart,” he chuckled, his thumb gently caressing your own.

“Do you remember the first time you called me ‘sweetheart’?” you asked, fondness sparkled in your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips. 

Bucky smiled, squeezing your hand gently. “Of course I do,” a small chuckle escaped his lips as the memory of that night entered his mind. “You were only eight years old, but you were terrified of the Ferris wheel… such a cry baby,” he teased, his smile turned into a playful grin. “You clung to my arm like your life depended on it.” 

You left out a soft laugh as he continued. “You looked up at me with those scared, teary eyes, and I couldn’t stand seeing you so frightened.” 

“You took my hand,” you began finishing his story, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “And told me, you would keep me safe, no matter what. And, you did, Bucky, you always have.” 

With a gentle look in his eyes, Bucky smiled. “Hey, wanna ditch this and go to the carnival now?” 

You nodded eagerly with a laugh. “Absolutely.” 

~

The carnival was a whirlwind of lights and waves of laughter. Once again you both rode the Ferris wheel, but this time, it was different. This time, you weren’t afraid. And, instead of closing your eyes when you reached the top, you gazed into Bucky’s for a moment before closing the distance between you and placing a gentle kiss against his lips. 

As the night came to an end, Bucky rode you back to your apartment building. You both content in each other’s presence as the ride was filled with comfortable silence and the city lights blurring around you. 

Bucky walked you up to your apartment, the carnival’s excitement lingered in the air as you felt a twinge of reluctance to part ways. 

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” you said softly, turning to face him after you unlocked your door. 

He smiled warmly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Anything for you,” he replied. 

Without a word, he closed the distance between you as his lips found yours for another time that night. This time, the kiss deepened, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

As you broke apart, his eyes filled with unspoken affection as they met yours. “Good night, Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with emotion. 

“Good night, Bucky,” you whispered back. 

Bucky watched as you closed the door, reluctant to let go of you. As he waited a few seconds, his mind spun from the whirlwind of thoughts, emotions, and the joyous turn of events.

Then, just as he was about to turn away, you opened the door again, revealing your smiling face. You pulled him back inside, without a word, your lips meeting his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 

And as you melted into each other, he guided you further into the apartment, his foot pushing the door closed behind the both of you.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Book Two: Good Graces

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Memento Mori

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: strong language

A/N: This is a shorter chapter, I hope to make up for it in the following one, which is planned to include more moments between Daemon and the reader. Enjoy!!

Daemon found you standing in front of the Weirwood tree the next morning.

“Do your people not sleep?” He asked as he approached you. “Or is it something special to you?”

A soft giggle left your lips as you turned to face him, your long hair swaying with the wind. “Everyone needs sleep, Daemon Targaryen, even us,” you responded, your eyes meeting his purple ones. “Though you are right that I did not sleep last night. There were things to be done.”

“Are you going to inform your King of these things you are talking about?” Daemon asked with an arched brow, you could tell he was trying to test the waters, to see whether your loyalties laid blindly with him.

You spoke with a warning tone. “As I told you last night, I have no king, Daemon.” Only a fool would fail to sense the wind changing around you as you spoke, the words left your lips sharply. “I am no men, hence I am neithersubject to your customs nor to your monarch.”

From the way he clenched his jaw, it was obvious that Daemon was trying to keep his temper under control – from what you had seen the night before in your visions, even the slightest bit of effort he gave in the name of anger management was a tremendous step. “Even you cannot roam the Seven Kingdoms, doing what you please, without answering to the monarch, Lúthril – if you live in these lands, you have to obey its rulers.”

He spoke the words with a hard tone, putting emphasis on almost each one, all the while his huge frame towered over yours, in an attempt to assert his dominance. Of course, such a manner could have very well worked in the past; however, you were an ancient enchantress of the purest and the mightiest race the world has ever seen – no men could intimidate you. Not even the Heir of the Dragon.

As a response, you took a step towards him, looking up to meet his gaze with determination in your eyes. “I do not intend to stay long,” your voice was low but your words carried a different kind of power. “You are my last mission in this world – afterwards, I shall join my brothers and sisters in the land of eternal peace and harmony.”

Daemon looked at you for a while before speaking, his warm breath was licking against your forehead each time he exhaled. “You are a strange kind of woman.”

You did not say anything.

Upon hearing the footsteps approaching, you stepped away from Daemon as both of you turned to see the person. As soon as her emerald eyes found your graceful figure standing beside the King Consort, horror was visible on Alys Rivers’ face. “No, no, no, no!” her voice was becoming louder each time. “This cannot be true.” Quickly, the witch turned her gaze to Daemon. “What have you done?!”

In the blink of an eye, the Dark Sister’s sharp blade was against Alys Rivers’ throat, pinning her at her place. “Watch your tongue, witch.” Daemon spoke with an ice-cold tone, resembling that of a king at that very moment. “Do I have to remind you whom you are talking to?”

Gently, you placed your left hand on Daemon’s arm, causing him to lower the Dark Sister as his gaze travelled to your face which seemed to shine with an unearthly glow under the rays of the sun. “We both have known for long that this day was coming, Ingolme.” You addressed Alys Rivers as witch in the language of your people. “You should have prepared yourself better.”

Alys Rivers shook her head in disappointment, her emerald eyes traveling to Daemon. “You have no idea what you are tempering with.”

Before giving Daemon the chance to talk, you started walking towards Alys, causing her to straighten her back, standing in an alarmed way. “I do not recall having harmed you, Ingolme.” You spoke to her with a voice sweeter than honey, the air circling around you was causing the skirts of your dress to move around your feet. “I have given you no reason to fear me. You have another motive.”

As the wind got stronger, messing with both Daemon’s and Alys’ hair, it started whispering in your ear everything you needed to know – it was a gift from the Gods. The wind told you what was motivating Alys Rivers in keeping you locked away and you had to admit – she had every reason to fear you. As long as you were alive, free and by Daemon’s side; only the one-eyed-death would visit her on her path.

“Such a pity,” you muttered after the strong wind left its place to a soft breeze. “All these years of experience and yet, you still believe you are capable of changing the fracture points in one’s destiny.” You tilted your head to the side. “Has the story of how my people vanished not taught you anything at all?”

The shadows started to grow under Alys’ feet, becoming taller with each passing moment, making their way towards you. “You think you are so clever, enchantress,” Alys spat out the words as if they were venom, “but you are not one of us – you are a stranger to the games that are played here. Your magic alone cannot win the game of thrones.”

With a swift movement of your fingers, you let the celestial light radiate off your body so strongly that not only the shadows faded away but Alys and Daemon had to shield their eyes. Before the conflict between you two could get any further, Daemon interfered, his strong voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Enough!” His voice echoed around you, scaring away the birds. “I will not allow this nonsense any further. Witch, leave us alone.” His last words were directed at Alys, who sent you one last deadly glare before hurrying into the castle. Her words, however, flowed into your mind, only for you to hear.

You may have his ear for now, enchantress, but no one holds a dragon’s loyalty for long.

It was hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes – it was clear that at some point in the future, the witch of Harrenhal was going to bother you to a great extent – unless you somehow found a way to put shackles around her powers.

As soon as Alys Rivers was gone, Daemon turned to face you with fury in his purple eyes once again. “I do not need your magic to win any game – the throne will be mine through fire and blood.”

Your voice was tranquil as you spoke, the celestial light was gone now. “I never told you that I intended to win the throne for you, Daemon.” A strand of hair was falling in front of your eyes. “My sole purpose here, right now, is to advise you, guide you through your path but only if you will let me.”

The stubbornness was dripping from his words. “My fate is not something for you to shape.”

“The Gods have already woven the threads of your destiny, Daemon, but your choices will determine which path you follow. I can only help you see the way away from death and misery —if you are willing to look.”

Your words seemed to take Daemon by surprise, he was unable to hide the fear falling onto his eyes as he put away the Dark Sister. “You have seen what awaits me?” He asked with a low voice, the sudden change in his attitude was almost scary. You nodded. “Can you… show it to me? The way you showed me your past?”

A bitter smile formed on your lips as you took a step towards him, resting your left hand against his right cheek. Daemon didn’t push it back. “It is forbidden to speak of those I have seen, let alone show them to you.” You took a deep breath. “When the time comes, the Gods will show you everything you need to know.”

When he felt that you were getting ready to pull your hand back, Daemon placed his right one on your own, caressing the back of your hand. You pressed your lips against each other. “If I allow you to guide me, what guarantee do I have that you’re not leading me to ruin?” Daemon’s words were nothing but a mere whisper now – the fierce man was gone.

“There are bigger things at stake – bigger than you and me, than this hateful war of your family… Leading you to your ruin would have echoes far beyond you yourself, Daemon. It would be the first step in unleashing chaos on all of us, I cannot allow that to come pass.” With much willpower, you pulled your hand back, only to miss Daemon’s touch right away. “If it is more to your liking, you may think of me as your advisor -as all kings should have one.”

The edge of Daemon’s lips curled upwards, wind playing with his silver hair. “I believe everyone else here, in this cursed castle, shall know you as my advisor as well, Lúthril.” You both started walking towards the castle with slow steps. “If anyone should ask where you are coming from…”

You didn’t let Daemon finish his words. “I shall tell them it is none of their concern.”

A small laugh left Daemon’s lips, a sound so pleasant to the ear that it left you yearning to crawl into his arms to let his laugh embrace you. “This attitude of yours,” he said, “I find it amusing.” You sent him a warm smile, unaware of how Daemon carved that smile in his memory to recall it each time he found himself missing your company. “As my advisor, what do you suggest I should do next?”

“Your first step should be gaining the support of the riverlords by making up for the massacre William Blackwood and his men wrapped around your neck as an amulet of guilt.” You responded, not realising the way Daemon stopped abruptly as you walked through the corridors of the castle. “You need their bannerman – there is no other way to raise an army here… What is wrong?”

The absence of the footsteps following yours caused you to stop as well, looking back at Daemon, who stood a few meters behind you. He had a troubled expression on his face which was quite difficult to decipher.

“How do you know about William Blackwood and the massacre?” He asked, keeping his voice low. “You were still invisible in the dungeons when all these happened.”

The edge of your lips curled upwards. “The Gods reveal what they will, past and future alike.” You responded, causing Daemon to frown. “Nothing is hidden from their gaze—or mine.”

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina @sadmonke @avalyaaa @superintenseart @immyowndefender @claud012 @ayamenimthiriel @vavafaure1994 @ilovegrishaverse

[lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me]

⋆୨♡୧⋆bitchless era ending soon⋆୨♡୧⋆

walking into the meeting room y/n couldn’t help but internally scream. what the hell was he doing here? why didn’t her manager tell her about this? especially since she was just in practice and didn’t have time to dress up and hopefully look not a hot mess. her mouth dropped open in shock, resisting the urge to yell “what the fuck” in front of everyone. after a moment of awkward silence her manager spoke up. “y/n meet riki, riki meet y/n. you guys will be working together from now on. we set up this time for you to meet and talk and get to know each other.” she gestured to riki’s manager, “we’ll be going so you two can talk freely. have fun!” the two left and left riki and y/n alone. while y/n was having her internal panic, little did she know, so was he. the moment he saw her he knew he was fucked. after heeseung gave him no help, he had no idea what to say to her. “soo…” he said “your debut was really good!”. y/n didn’t know what to do. her celebrity crush of 3 years, just complimented her music. all that she could muster was “uh- thanks you too”. thanks you too???? why the hell would she say that? he laughs slightly, not being able to help but think about how cute she was. “um are you excited to start mcing?” she asks, nervousness clear in her voice. he smiled, “yeah i am, what about you?” she tried her absolute hardest to not say something stupid again and said “yeah! just a little nervous though. i’ve never done anything like this before.” riki saw his opportunity, he knew he had to take it. even though he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. “we should hang out sometime. i’ve done it a couple times before, i could give you some tips to make it easier!” no. fucking. way. too many thoughts were running through y/ns head. did nishimura riki really just ask her to hang out? there’s no way this is real. never did she think that this would happen “uhhhh- yeah! yeah sure that would be fun!” whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck “okay nice! how about tomorrow?” whatshappeningwhatshappeningwhatshappening “yeah sure. that sounds perfect” holy. shit. cha y/n is hanging out with nishimura riki. “okay, ill see you then” riki had never been more nervous in his whole life. he couldn’t wait to shove this in all of his members faces. “im sure you have to get back to practice, right?” there was no shock as to why he knew that, she looked like a sweaty mess. “yeah, actually. i do. so i’ll see you then!” she overthought her every word, and move. how could she not when she’s around him. to her, he was perfect. “see you around!” riki left the room and practically ran back to his dorm. that couldn’t have gone better. y/n however, was freaking the ever living hell out. “did nishimura riki just ask me out? no that’s not possible we just met eachother! it’s friendly! that’s all!” after what felt like hours of contemplating she decided to go back to the dorm, tweet about it, and tell taesan and jaehyun. i mean, how was she supposed to go back to practice after something like this?

masterlist | next | previous

luckys note!: i’m sorry this took so long guys!! schools getting crazy since it’s almost the end of the year. but i hope you enjoyed the first written chapter! this is my first time like, actually writing so i hope it turned out good!

© lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📍) PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN!

(🩷) MIDNIGHT FICTION TAGLIST! @nctislifue @akuspic @pkjay @siya-bean @eun-chaez @wavetosunoo @gweoriz @luminouskalopsia @soobiary @ivyannemarie @rikikiynikilcykiki @emma2black @enh4ht @wooziswife @jjunie-0 @yumilovesloona @wth121 @riksaes @isaxshin @allforhee @rikisgeef @chxrlvspp @sunghoonsarmpit @autumn583 @tzuyusluv

(dm me/comment under the midnight fiction masterlist to be added!)

[morbethgames]

Halloween Special, Current Projects, New Patreon Content

I am so sorry about the radio silence as of late. Between the stuff earlier this week (yes, that stuff), dealing with deaths of people, and university; I've been very busy and mentally drained. However, the good news is, you can play the mini game of The Bureau, "Witchy Woman" right now! The link is at the bottom of this post! Eventually I'll integrate it into the main game, or put it out as potential free DLC or something, but for now there are no stats and it's not tied to choices from the base game.

Tonight is a special case. The MCT has been called in as a favor after finishing up our most recent case. A friend of Kris's reached out, and the local P.D. has let the MCT take the lead on this one. A house party in the beginning of October up in Maine has turned sour. A party-goer has been reported deceased.

We just finished a job, but in this line of work, there's always another case to solve. So here I am, approaching the residence with my team, about to find out exactly what happened on this cold, damp night.

Because it's not part of a bigger game or story, and the only pacing I had to worry about was that of the investigation, this is much more freeflow than other investigations in the main story. Go back and forth between the crime scene, the perimeter of the house, interrogations, and more! The more you discover evidence, the more new options will unlock in conversations, and you have an evidence log in the stats section that updates every time you find out something relevant to the case.

I'm only promoting this now, even though it's been done for a couple of weeks, because it was part of a Jam and I didn't think it would be fair if I got votes from a community built over a few years when others in the Jam would not have had that same benefit. I wanted it to be an even playing field, even if it meant holding out for a bit. So, I apologize for making you all wait.

There are still things I'd like to do for this game, things I'll end up adding, but it is at the very least ready to play. It's 40k words, so have at it!

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

Right, next up, something I'd like to announce. I'm working on a serialized fiction that I'm (hopefully) planning to turn into a book. The first 3 chapters are going to be posted for free, both here on my blog and on my Patreon, though not quite yet. Chapters after that will be released on Patreon for the people who pay the $5 tier.

I'll be honest, it has been extremely cathartic to go from writing an IF where the chapters are all pretty much the length of a book themselves, to writing an actual book where a chapter is about 4k words. It's a very nice breath of fresh air, and it by no means, entails that I will stop working on Bureau. In fact, it may even help speed up rate of production, funnily enough. Having something to keep my mind turning while having writer's block about a scene in the IF will help me constantly generate ideas, and that's really nice to think about.

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder. In wake of the events, a couple of friends begin investigating this personal tragedy, determined to get to the bottom of what happened at the Scribe City college. The lesson is quickly thrust upon them that loss leads to pain, but pain is temporary, and loss can be forever. So what comes after the pain? They need to explore that journey together, and in the process, navigate the complicated things feelings that have started to bloom.

The book (serialized fiction for now) , called Love In Stasis, is going to be a 'WLW romance small town college murder mystery'. You will explore the relationships that these characters have and continue to form, and just how messy things get when tragedy sparks love. I have almost 25k words done for it, about six and a half chapters, and I'm going to try to get 50k words done with it by the end of the month. A writing challenge that's totally not tied to the name of any organizations.

If this works out, I could reward patrons with static fiction while not having to worry about providing everyone with constant things tied to the IF itself, and I could work on The Bureau at a pace I'm very comfortable with.

I'm still learning as a writer. I'm still learning new things I like, and how I like to produce content. All I know is that I like producing art in the form of writing, and I most certainly will not stop doing that anytime soon, and now that the Halloween Special is done, I will be getting back to the base game.

Which will start with a complete recoding of the gender variables. I've already started on that process, so no more multiple versions of each chapter. One version. One set of gender variables. Much more condensed coding and script. So, people out there who said that wasn't going to change, I just have to say what I'd said all along. My coding was indeed bad. However I will also say something else I've said all along. I do take criticism.

That being said I'm never using multi-replace and you can't make me. I like being able to read what I'm writing.

More to come in the near future.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

https://cogdemos.ink/play/viisbae/the-bureau-halloween-special-witchy-woman

Patreon Link

[dorabledewdroop]

The White Healer Chapter 4

Note: Hi guys, I'm really sorry for not posting sooner. I've had a couple of family problems and haven't exactly been in the best headspace. I'll work on posting more frequently. I hope you like this chapter, it's longer than other's cause there's so much I wanted to put out there.

Warnings: Blood, graphic description of injuries, angst.

Summary: Just a chapter where everyone gets to know reader better.

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

As it turns out, the team building activity that you were dreading turned out to be Jenga. While unsure how it built team character, it did work on making your more comfortable with the rest of the team. Due to you still being new to the team, you had requested a month to work out by yourself so that you could get back into shape. As horrible as the scientists had been, they did teach you an efficient way to get into peak performance. Working out from 12am till 5am everyday was good enough. Within the third week, you had already noticed the definition of your muscles, you’d put on pure muscle mass, and your stamina plus healing ability enabled you to sprint approximately 20 miles without stopping. It was going well until one day, you were working on the punching bag and were so focused that you lost track of time. It was 7 am when Natasha and Steve returned from their daily run and saw you workout. You hadn’t noticed them due to the music playing out loud. Natasha, however, saw you and immediately ran towards you. You were brought out of your headspace when you saw Natasha grab your arms, unshed tears forming as she stared at your hands. Steve stepped closer and was horrified to find the ground and punching bag covered in blood. Upon closer inspection, he found your hands caked in blood too. You looked at them confused.

“What?” You asked concerned, completely unaware of why they looked white as a sheet.

Natasha and Steve looked at you with wide eyes.

“Why are you covered in blood y/n?” Natasha asked, letting go of your arms now that you’d stopped punching the bag and brought them to her sides.

You looked even more confused.

“I was going to clean it up when I was done?” You said uncertainly.

“Is this… common for you?” Steve asked slowly.

You hesitated for a moment. Natasha seeing your clear discomfort of being caught off guard came up with an idea.

“How about this, y/n cleans up the gym and herself and then the 3 of us can sit together and figure out a.. neater way of you working out?” She suggested.

Before you could say anything, Steve agreed and the two of them walked out. Grumbling you started to clean.

The first thing you noticed was Natasha staring at your hands as you sat down. You leaned towards her and put your hand on her cheek. You didn’t fail to notice the way she almost leaned into your hand.

“I’m completely fine, Nat” You reassured her.

She looked at you with a vulnerability that took your breath away. It was at that moment that Wanda entered the kitchen. She paused as she noticed the two of you, you started to lean back but froze when Nat grabbed your hand and brought it back to her cheek.

“Please” she said, “I need to know you’re okay.. there was so much blood..”

Wanda frowned. Whether she was upset or confused, you weren’t entirely sure. She walked towards the two of you and sat down next to Natasha. Natasha didn’t break eye contact even when Wanda gently rubbed her lower back. You brought your other hand to Natasha’s face and leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. This seemed to reassure her greatly as her shoulders relaxed.

“I promise you, I’m completely okay” You said softly.

Your eyes darted to Wanda for a second, expecting protectiveness or anger but all you were met with was a warm look of concern that melted your heart.

“I’ll explain everything” you thought loudly. 

Wanda nodded her head, indicating she’d heard you. While you’d given her explicit permission to read your thoughts at any given time, she was still hesitant to do so. The three of you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you heard someone’s footsteps nearing. You could physically see Natasha’s walls coming back up, Wanda too. You sat back in your chair but held Natasha’s hand underneath the table. She gently squeezed in gratitude, her face showing nothing. Steve entered the kitchen and faltered when he saw the three of you sitting in silence looking at him with the exact same expression. Clearing his throat, Steve sat down next to you on the opposite side of Natasha. He looked at you expectantly. If he was confused by why Wanda was here, he didn’t show it. 

“I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about what happened in the training room?” Steve asked gently.

You took a deep breath and began.

“Okay so, shortly after I.. um.. got my power.. I went to the hospital in a different country and immediately began to heal patients with chronic and terminal illnesses. Cancer, ALS, Alzheimers, and so on. Unfortunately that gained the wrong kind of attention. The government had kidnapped me and taken me straight to a remote facility. They um.. tested the limits of my self healing. They’d break bones, cut off limbs, electrocute, and do a bunch of other things.”

You were unable to meet anyones eye-line, your body remembering each and every single thing they’d done. It was another side effect of the power you gained. While most people tended to forget the physical pain their body experienced over time, your body learned and remembered every single feeling it went through. Every cut, tear, burn. You could feel it all the moment you tried to remember it. Your body won’t ever lot you forget. Wanda had heard your thoughts and had to use everything in her power not to start bawling the moment those images came to your mind. Her grip on Natasha’s lower back tightened, she relayed what she’d heard to Natasha in her mind and felt Natasha’s body stiffen as she registered what happened.

You looked up as Natasha’s grip on your hand tightened, only to see the two women barely holding it together. Realising what transpired, you let out a weak smile and continued.

“Once they realised there was no limit to my regenerative capabilities, they attempted to train me for combat. They’d get fighters to take turns beating me into submission for hours on end until I learned to defend myself. I um.. I’m not good at combat.. So they tried to train me for um.. you know what, never mind. Basically they taught me to train past my body’s limits by constantly healing myself. They did it for years on end until it was ingrained into me. So yeah.. That’s why you saw what you saw..” You concluded.

“I’m so sorry, detka” Wanda whispered in your head.

“It’s alright, it’s in the past” you replied

“I can help train you in combat.” Steve said. “You could become a vital part of the attack te-“

Natasha scoffed, bringing his attention to her. He leaned back startled as he saw Natasha glaring at him and Wanda’s furious eyes glowing red. Both of them had the urge to throw him through the nearest window. You merely stared at him in shock. Tears made their way down your face. You withdrew your hand from Natasha’s and stood up.

“I’m sorry I need to go” you muttered, and hurried out of the room.

“Y/n” Wanda called out but it was too late, you were out of earshot. Natasha continued to glare at Steve.

“You ever suggest that again that again and I’ll test just how strong your healing factor is.” Natasha spat, standing up abruptly.

“I just meant-“ Steve tried to defend.

“We don’t care.” Wanda stated firmly. “She just told you what she went through and you thought of weaponising her just like those assholes.”

“Langua-“

“Don’t” Natasha warned.

She walked away before Steve could plead his case. Wanda glared at him one last time before following her out.

“FRIDAY” Natasha called out. “Where is y/n right now?”

“I believe Miss Y/n is one the roof.” FRIDAY stated

Holding hands, Natasha and Wanda made their way to the roof. Natasha reflected back to how she felt when she saw y/n work out and their interaction in the kitchen. She felt a little scared. The red room had trained her to always be in control, regardless of whether it was in bed or any interaction with others. Sure, she pretended to be submissive in front of her targets, but she was just toying with them. Even with Wanda, she was in control. But y/n.. that girl was something else.. For the first time in Natasha’s life, she wanted to give up control. She felt so safe and comfortable giving up control in y/n’s presence. It scared her but also excited her. 

Since the sun had already started to set, the cold had set in. Being Russian and Sokovian, the cold didn’t bother them that much. The were, however, concerned about y/n. She wasn’t from a cold country. Natasha was glad to see that Wanda had brought a blanket without any prompt. When you didn’t acknowledge their presence, they slowly sat down on either side of you. Wanda draped the blanket over the three of you. While she didn’t say it out loud, she secretly enjoyed the feeling of the three of you cuddled together. She knew Natasha definitely felt the same, she just hoped you did too. The girls simultaneously rested their head on your shoulder, both surprised to feel muscle instead of bone. The rigorous workout must be effective.

“I have a request” Natasha started.

You hummed in question.

“From now on, could you please train with either me or Wanda? We won’t train combat, We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Just, please don’t push us away.” She said.

Your head turned to her, only to notice the lack of space between your faces. Your eyes flitted down to her gorgeous lips and back. Natasha’s heart stuttered at the action, waiting for your next move. You looked away into the distance and nodded.

“There’s something you should know.” You confessed. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth downstairs.”

When you were met with silence, you continued. 

“After they realised no matter what torture they used, I would refuse to fight and hurt others. They tried to train me to do suicide missions.. I.. they would strap bombs to my chest and blow me up as I walked to targeted spots as training.”

Both of the girls held your hands as tears made their way down your face.

“It hurt so much” you croaked. “The feeling of my body being torn apart and nerves slowly growing.”

Unable to take anymore, you let out a sob. Immediately Wanda enveloped you in a hug, Natasha doing the same until you were sandwiched between them.

“No one is going to test on us” Wanda whispered. “Not anymore.”

You continued to sob into her shoulder as they whispered words of comfort in your ear. Eventually, you found yourself laying down between the two women. The warmth their bodies provided and the exhaustion of your mind caused you to fall into a deep sleep. For some reason it was the best sleep you’d ever had.

The dynamic between the three of you had completely changed after that night. They were definitely your best friends. No matter how much you wished they could be more, but they were together. They didn’t need you in their relationship, you’d just hold them back. You didn’t let that bother you, no matter how guilty you felt at times during movie night when the two insisted you sit besides them. A week later Steve came up to you as you were eating breakfast.

“I’m really sorry y/n. It was incredibly insensitive of me to suggest what I did that night” he said. Natasha was reading on the sofa, but you could see her eyes on Steve, intently listening to what he was saying.

“It was never my intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. You absolutely do not have to train combat if you don’t want to. We all value you as a team member just the same.”

You slowly nodded your thanks. While you appreciated his apology, you were more nervous about your first workout session with Wanda and Natasha. They said they both wanted to be there for your first time as a group workout.

You entered the gym and noticed that the two women had already started working out, Wanda doing squats while Natasha was stretching. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed the two working out in their sports bra and tights. Natasha’s toned abs on display as she did the cobra pose. Your eyes shifted to Wanda and your knees felt weak. You saw sweat make its way down her neck and get lost into her cleavage. Feeling like a pervert for staring you cleared your throat and mentally cursed yourself. Both of them paused what they were doing and started walking towards you. Wanda grinned in excitement while Natasha smiled welcomingly.

“Alright y/n. Why don’t you tell us what your workout looks like and we’ll figure out a safer way to get the same results? Maybe Wanda and I can help spot you too.” Natasha asked.

“Oh cool. Okay, so basically, I run for a little bit. Then I do some strength training, followed by some bag work” you replied, already starting to stretch.

“Perfect, we can join you in running, I was planning on doing legs today, maybe we can workout together?” Wanda suggested. You nodded in agreement and the three of you walked to the treadmills.

“What speed are we running at?” Natasha asked off handedly.

Without thinking “We’ll start with 20 kmph and go from there?” You said, increasing the speed and began running. 

Wanda froze. Refusing to back down, she started the treadmill and began running at full speed. 5 minutes later Wanda was panting, slowing the treadmill down and looking at the other two in amazement. She noticed Natasha wasn’t doing to great either. Around 10 minutes later Natasha slowed down, unable to maintain the pace. Natasha’s face burned as she realised you had unintentionally outlasted both her and Wanda. She spared a glance at Wanda and that little shit had the audacity to smirk. Natasha looked to her right to see you and to her amazement, you were in a full out sprint. Natasha’s jaw dropped to see that you had been running at 35kmph all this while. An hour later, neither of them had the energy to continue running and got off the treadmill. Both of them stunned at the fact that you hadn’t changed your pace for a single second in the past hour. Wanda cleared her throat, brining you out of your focus. You slowed down and stopped, hopping off the treadmill and walking towards them. While you were breathing heavily, you looked nowhere near as exhausted as the other two felt. You smiled at them brightly.

“Time for some strength training?” You asked genuinely.

Wanda glared at you as she sat on a bench, gulping some water. You noticed their exhausted state and knelt towards Wanda.

“Can I help” you asked gently.

Tilting her head in confusion, she nodded. You slowly grabbed both hands and closed your eyed. Wanda gasped as she felt a warmth envelope her. Her soreness exhaustion dissipate and energy enter her entire body. When you let go, Wanda stood up and twisted a couple of times. She felt better than ever before. Not a hint of exhaustion throughout her body. Natasha watched in amazement at the change in her girlfriend, even her slight dark circles had disappeared.

“Is this how you feel all the time?” Wanda asked in awe.

You chuckled. “Not exactly” you replied.

Before Wanda could inquire further, you turned to Natasha and asked for permission. She nodded, blushing slightly when you took her hand. Natasha, too, gasped when she felt warmth take over. Her muscles relaxing. Even the ache she’d been feeling in her knee vanished. She almost whined when you stepped back, the warm feeling throughout her body slowly dissipating. You hadn’t realised what happened but Wanda did. Natasha saw Wanda give her a smug smile. 

You were about to walk to the free weight section when Natasha asked if the group could use the squat rack instead. Shrugging, you made your way to them. Unfortunately, your oversized sweatshirt kept on getting stuck to the squat rack. Sighing, you removed your sweatshirt. Leaving you in a full sleeved compression t-shirt and loose sweatpants. Wanda and Natasha completely froze as they saw you.

“Holy shit” Natasha thought.

“I agree” Wanda replied in her mind.

Your bulging muscles were on display, your muscular arms stretching the compression t-shirt. Natasha totally wasn’t staring at your abs and Wanda was definitely not staring at your arms. You paused, smirking when you noticed why the two were silent. You walked towards Natasha, lifted your finger to close her jaw. Her face flushed at the action.

“You’ll let flies in if you keep doing that” You teased with a smirk.

Wanda shamelessly stared at your sculpted back, looking away only when you started walking back to the squat rack.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you drooling, Wands” you stated, starting to workout.

It was Wanda’s turn to blush and Natasha to smirk. The rest of the workout went surprisingly well, neither of them commented on how heavy you were lifting for all of the exercises. At first, Natasha thought you were showing off for them but quickly quelled the thought as that was definitely not the kind of person you were. It was one of the things she lo- liked about you.

Post workout everyone went to their respective rooms and got ready for dinner. The training session ended up taking 4 hours.

As usual, you were a little late. Everyone was already sitting down, ready to eat. Wanda insisted to wait for you, to which they reluctantly agreed. You entered the room and your heart warmed as you saw Natasha and Wanda had saved a seat for you between the two of them. As you were about to sit down, your eyes fell on the robot sitting at the table. You froze when you saw what was on his forehead. A gasp left your lips, bringing everyone’s eyes to you. Wanda stood quickly, walking to you. Alarm bells ringing in her head as she felt shock, anger, and most of all grief rolling off you in waves. Thor, not picking up on your mood merely introduced you.

“The Vision, this is lady y/n. She’s the newest addition to our team. Lady Y/n, this is the vision. A synthezoid creat-“

“Thor shut up for a second” Nat interrupted. “Detka, what’s wrong?” She asked you.

You raised a trembling finger towards Vision.

“Why do you have that fucking stone” You gritted out.

“I am unaware of what you mean” Vision said, confused.

“That stone.” You seethed. “Killed my sister.”

X--X--X--X--X

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment and tell me your thoughts!

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723 @luadyjcmd @alexawynters

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 3

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

You sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over. What a… stressful first day. First, the other Lieutenant doesn’t like you, then the gift your fiancé gave you breaks, and you get the shards in your hand and have to have Soap help you pull them out. What a mess. You clenched your hand a little, sighing at the feeling of the wounds splitting open. These are the days you wish he were still- you need to stop thinking about him. He’s dead and gone. In the past. If only it were that simple. But it is that simple. It really isn’t. It is. It’s not.

You rolled over, glancing at the clock, and sighed— 1 am. You buried your face into the pillows and immediately relaxed. Your brow furrowed for only a moment before you fell asleep. The smell of citrus and cedar lulled you away to the best sleep you’d known in years.

~~

You were lying on the ground, a thick dust clouding up around you as you struggled to regain your senses, the sound of thundering boots approaching you, grabbing you by your vest, and attempting to pull you up. Keyword: attempting. You were quickly dropped as a red mist hit your cheek, the hulking man before you with a newfound hole in his head. He collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to shove his corpse off, the drop shaking you back to reality.

“Too close, Ghost.” You grumbled into your earpiece, wiping the blood off your face with the back of your hand. You recovered your rifle and shouldered it, moving to take cover.

“You’re getting sloppy. Did you eat when we told you to?” He asked, another gunshot coming over his mic. “I have a feeling you didn’t. I can see it, in the way you’re shaking.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice— which wasn’t lost on you.

“I meant that you almost got me too with that shot. Did you eat?” You asked, annoyed, “Why do you care? Christ, you sound like my fiancé. Always on my ass about eating…” You mumbled, turning to move forward, finally hitting the door you were trying to get to and shooting the lock off. You swapped to your sidearm, dropping low as you entered, waiting for Soap to catch up.

“What, we can’t be concerned for our teammate's health?” Soap’s voice came in over the comms, breathless like he’d been running. “We cannae do a ton with you operatin’ at fifty percent, can we?” He slipped in through the door, giving Ghost an indirect thumbs-up as he did.

“Right, because me being a little hungry is so much worse than you dodging bullets at every opportunity you get.” You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Look at you, you’re covered in scrapes and gashes… Ghost, you got our six while we’re in here?” You asked, poking your head out and looking for the glint of his scope.

It takes him a minute to respond, then a raspy “Yeah, got an eye out.” rung in your ears.

~

“Soap! You done planting those C4 yet? We got to get the fuck outta here!” You shouted, ripping the hard drives and USB sticks from the computers you found, hoping something might be useful beyond what you were sent after. You quickly shoved it all in your pack, running down the hall and dipping into the room he sat in.

“Yeah, lass! Let’s go!” He said, grabbing your arm and dragging you along as fast as possible to get out. At some point, you ended up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, being shaken about as he ran like a bat out of hell. You let it happen, not trying to run when you could barely see straight.

He dropped you on the ground face down, a puff of dirt kicking up around you. You got up on your knees, shrugging your pack off your shoulders, and flopped onto your back, trying to cool your pulse. You were shaking like a leaf. No, you didn’t eat. Before you could fully recover, your pack was snatched off the ground by Soap and you were quickly picked up by Ghost, who carried you much more delicately if not a bit tight— bridal style. The three of you booked it, the sound of trucks rumbling on the dirt path, getting closer with each second.

After an hour of running, the three of you finally settled in a dense patch of woods, taking a moment to breathe. Before you could think, they both shoved energy bars in your face, their expressions mildly annoyed.

“Eat.” Ghost nearly demanded, opening the bar and shoving it in your mouth when you went to protest. “I’m done carryin’ your ass around.” He huffed, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.

Soap closed his eyes, also leaning against a tree. “Where are we, now? We must’ve missed evac by a mile by now.” He sighed, pulling a satellite GPS out of his bag. “Sorry, two miles.”

You finished eating the bar that Ghost gave you, swallowing the last bite. You took Soaps GPS, fiddling with it for a moment before locking it on a clearing about 4 miles north of you. “We could make our way there, send the coords to Watcher?” You offered, handing it over to him and plucking the other energy bar from his hand.

He showed Ghost the suggested route, shrugging. “Could work.” Ghost only nodded, sighing a bit.

~

The car ride was quiet except for the grumble of the vehicle and the occasional bump making stuff roll across the steel floors. Soap had fallen asleep at some point and was snoring loudly, and you were fighting to stay awake.

“You should sleep.” Ghost's voice broke through the silence, making you jump a little.

“Don’t want to.” You said, looking at what you could see of him. It was dark in the cabin, so all but that creepy mask of his was in shadows. “You’re creepy.”

“So I’ve heard. You gonna fight sleep the whole way or…?” He questioned, turning to look at you. “If you don’t sleep now you won't get any until we get back to base.”

“I’ll sleep when I want to. Are you gonna sleep, or do you have the whole ‘I don’t sleep mehmehmeh’ vibe going on?” You asked, your joke making him huff in amusement.

“I don’t sleep. Not when I’m in the field.” He said, “Just sleep. You’re clearly fighting it, there's no use.” His hand came up to make you lean back to rest. You could only grumble before succumbing to sleep, your head lolling from the back of the seat over to his shoulder, despite the awkward distance between you two.

~~

He watched you as you raked the leaves from your yard into a pile, your focus waning slightly as you hit the same spot for the third time now. Simon went out, taking the rake from your hands and making you take a break.

“Did you eat, sweetheart? You look dizzy.” He asked, making you look up at him. Your eyes were unconcentrated, making him frown. “That’s a no. Go inside, love. I’ll finish up.” He kissed your forehead, sending you on your way.

“Was gonna finish this then do that, but sure, okay.” You grumbled, gently touching the spot where he kissed you. “Are there leftovers from breakfast?”

“Yeah. Go eat those. I’ll be in after a bit.” He called over his shoulder.

You went in and heated up the breakfast you made, taking the plate to the couch and watching him from the window. He’s so kind that you find it hard to believe that he’s a soldier. But then again, it was easy to believe he was a soldier. The scars across his arms and neck and face told all kinds of stories. Not ones you knew, of course, he would never in a million years tell you his tales of war. You were too precious to him, and he feared that you’d fear him instead of love him if you knew the horrors he witnessed and contributed to. But you knew. Even if they were vague hints and words of the ghosts that haunt him. You’d had to ground him from PTSD flashbacks on more than one occasion, and they were never pretty. After each and every one, he’d apologize, hold you close, call you his “pretty girl” and “love of my life”. He’d worry about making you go through that with him, even though you never minded.

You broke out of your trance when he sat his hand on your shoulder, making you turn up to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill of the autumn air, and his hair was messy from his stocking cap. You sat up on the couch, pulling him to eye level and examining his face. You ran your fingers over scars you’d memorized, then found a new one.

“You have a new scar. How’d you get this one?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a straight answer. You ran your fingers over it, bringing him closer to kiss it.

“A battle. Like most of the other scars. Nothin’ you need to worry about” He answered quietly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to fuss over every new scar, you know.”

“Maybe not, but is that going to stop me? No. I need you to know that I love you, even with all your battle wounds.” You hummed, closing your eyes.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 15

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slow burn

cw ; none, dottore is mentioned but none of his hideous acts

notes ; WHATS UP SMART FELLAS AND FART SMELLAS ⁉️

I PROMISE IM NOT DEAD,,,, see the thing is that since i published the last chapter of this, i’ve done some crazy things like finishing and graduating highschool and studying and doing national exams and preparing to apply to colleges and yknow….. really normal, totally not time consuming stuff LMAO i can’t promise that i’ll be consistent again as i am still pretty busy with all that bizz but i’m very happy to have finally gotten a new chapter out

ANYWAY ITS MEROPIDE TIME BABEY ‼️ finally get to write my pookie wookie shmookie wriothesley, can u tell that i think he’s neat :3 can u tell that i am brewing up something with him :3 can u :3

also i HAVE OTHER WRITING PROJECTS COMING OUT SOONER OR LATER MORE LATER I PROMISE,,,,, currently cooking up something for whatever dungeon meshi-heads out there that r willing to enjoy it!!!!!

previous | next | masterlist

this line could not be moving slower.

you’ve been standing here for so long— any progress forward is merely two steps further but your legs have long since turned to lead, making each movement arduous and achy. mind hazy and limbs sluggish as you drag your feet through the rusted metal flooring. the most likely cause for your sudden stagnation is the overwhelming pressure from being… however many feet underwater you are, as you haven’t had much time to adapt to that yet.

ironically, it almost makes you regret your decision and you hadn’t even truly gotten inside the fortress of meropide. perhaps this was some sort of intentional psychological warfare towards the new prisoners, some sort of initiation for the upcoming torments of their sentences. even so, you look back on the moment and think it was the best course of action.

you remember the way your heart dropped upon hearing the word ‘guilty’, the way it fell all the way down to your feet and picked its pace back up again, beating a hundred miles per hour. you remember the way you weren’t even given time to say goodbye, to reach out to childe as he rebelled against the guards and was immediately detained by the iudex.

the iudex… you become conflicted at the thought of him. part of your brain tells you that you should be angry and despise him for only letting you visit childe after he was reported to be missing from the fortress, under the guise of inviting you to investigate his disappearance. though… he was so kind about it. you must’ve visited his office nearly everyday to ask for permission to visit the prison, every time being met by the same answer of ‘it’s beyond my capabilities’, but each of them he remained utterly patient and civilized— something that you ashamedly can’t say that you did in return. and even so, he graciously offered to grant you a fake sentence so you could find the harbinger yourself, with the help of the traveler and paimon of course.

there was a certain air to monsieur neuvillette, one of silent melancholy and deep thoughtfulness. your first impression of the iudex had you recalling zhongli as a comparison, but now you’ve grown more certain that they have far more in common. neuvillette is most definitely not human, you’ve long since assessed that, but every time you get a look at his eyes while visiting his office, you notice an almost draconic appearance to them. perhaps that’s why you can’t fully bring yourself to dislike him— he reminds you far too much of you the fond friendship you’ve found within the consultant of wansheng funeral parlor.

there’s a shove to your shoulder that snaps you back into reality and you realize it’s your turn to have your mugshot taken. mugshot… what would your mother think of you now? both her own child and their childhood best friend having criminal records in another country— you can practically feel the pinching of your ear, even if the false charge was something as ridiculous as stealing lady furina’s cake. despite the flash of the kamera making your eyes sting, you do your best to maintain a neutral expression and wonder if the traveler and paimon had already gotten their turn and have long since installed themselves in the fortress. you especially wonder so when you’re left to venture the fortress of meropide alone, with only a room number and no knowledge of the prison’s system to your name.

“hey! you there!”

oh dear heavens, it’s already started— you’ve not stepped foot into prison for one whole minute and you’re already about to become a bullying victim. you swallow thickly and turn around meekly like a cornered rabbit. a particularly grumpy-looking guard is the one who calls you over, expression hard and stoic. you nearly consider begging him to not be mean to you like a cowardly little kid, but he speaks before you even get to open your mouth and spew anything embarrassing.

“you’re y/n, the new inmate, right? the duke wants to see you in his office.”

oh it’s so over for you.

perhaps you haven’t become a punching bag just yet but you’ve sure, somehow, irked the warden enough to be immediately sent to his office. oh gods… is it because you’re fatui? you heard there were quite a few fatui operatives already residing in the fortress of meropide— perhaps the duke has a particular distaste for your kind. the guard half-heartedly shows you the way to the duke’s office, the singular, imposing tower at the center of the fortress.

the silence inside the tower is deafening, the only sound heard is the clang of your steps against the metal stairs, almost as if you’re the only living being inside. the second floor introduces itself through the incredibly faint, almost innate herbal scent that wafts around you more and more the higher steps you climb. finally, it reveals an atmospheric office with bookshelves rounding the walls, a comfortable-looking sofa with a coffee table littered with teacups before it and in the grand center of the room, a wide desk— the last thing you register is the man sitting at it expectantly.

he looks nothing like you expected him to.

by the title of duke, you were picturing an older, posher man adorning expensive fabrics and a distasteful, condescending expression towards the ‘lower lifeforms’ of his prisoners. instead, he’s much younger and rugged, littered with scars, dark tones and sharp edges to his outfit— he almost looks like an inmate himself. despite not appearing necessarily condescending, the duke of meropide is still plentiful imposing, as his icy blue eyes and platform boots send a shiver through your spine when he stands up to greet you. he sticks out a hand and you instinctively flinch away, although the hand only hangs in the air passively awaiting a handshake.

“y/n l/n, prisoner 7458, it’s a pleasure to meet you. welcome to the fortress of meropide.”

oh… his tone is so casual and friendly, it completely takes you aback— like you’re meeting a friend on the street instead of the highest authority of an enormous prison as one of his very own prisoners. you scramble to shake his hand and awkwardly fall into some sort of bowing motion in the midst of you’re panic.

“a-ah yes! thank po you very m-much, your grace.”

with this proximity, you have no choice but to look at the duke’s face up close. he wears an easy smile on his otherwise seemingly hardened face, one that you can’t help but subconsciously think of as handsome. another juxtaposition to your expectations toward the duke is that, despite his rugged and troublesome appearance, he is quite well kept— as seen by his neat peach fuzz. he confuses you entirely.

the duke chuckles amusedly at your entirely perplexed demeanor.

“no need to be so nervous, this is a casual talk that i personally wanted to have with you, rather than a… part of the fortress’ welcoming ceremony. so please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable— i’ll prepare us some tea. oh! and call me wriothesley.”

you do as… wriothesley says and sit on the surprisingly cushy chair in front of his desk as he himself steps off to the side to make the tea. your mind is still running at miles per hour with everything that’s happened and with what might happen next, with what to say or not to say to the duke, with where childe, the traveler and paimon might be right now. not to mention the sickeningly sweet smell that fills your brain even further… this must be some strong tea. wriothesley sets a teacup in front of you and sits at his grand, tall chair behind the desk. he faces you with a bright smile that you force yourself to return, yet you still can’t help but keep the thought of this ‘casual talk’ having other intentions gnaw at the back of your mind.

“so, i won’t dilly-dally with what i’d like to talk about— as you may have noticed, the fortress harbors quite a few inmates from the fatui.” bingo. who knew that your blinded anxieties were actually right.

“all of them arrive here with similar ranks, under similar sentences for similar crimes. standard stuff, really… but this is the very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a sergeant.”

although the duke keeps up an easy-going and lighthearted demeanor, you can’t help but remain on edge. you feel once again like prey cornered by a calculating hound. the smell of the tea still plagues your mind with its unavoidable presence— what’s even worse is that the scent isn’t entirely unfamiliar to you, the memory is just out of your grasp, frustrating you even more.

“and even further, this is our very first time we’ve gotten ourselves a fatui sergeant whose crime was… to steal a cake from lady furina?” wriothesley briefly looks down toward a document on his desk to make sure he’s actually recalling your crime correctly. you barely listen to what he’s saying, still laser focused on recognizing this irking fragrance.

“adding onto that, it seems as though we’re receiving two new inmates today who are arriving on the exact same sentence for the exact same crime as yourself. seems a bit curious, doesn’t it?”

your attention is caught by the mention of the traveler and paimon and you shoot up in your seat.

“oh yes, those are my friends! a-are they okay? have they arrived yet?”

wriothesley is seemingly surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, as he chuckles with certain shock and amusement. he looks at his file once again, eyes trailing over to the two other prisoner registry’s below your own with a certain analytical hint to his gaze.

“i’m certain they’ll be arriving at the fortress shortly. in the meantime, why don’t you tell me how exactly the three of you managed to commit such a heinous crime?” he asks humorously.

wait!

you’ve finally recognized the scent… a lesser known tea leaf from liyue, with no real definitive name for itself— only truly studied within the medical field for being one of the few tea leafs to contain sodium thiopental, a barbiturate that slows the speed of the communication between the spinal cord and the brain, making high-functioning tasks such as lying harder to perform. a truth serum.

wriothesley has served you a truth serum.

so much for a ‘casual talk’. you’ve known the man for not even a full day, yet you still feel a sting of betrayal fermenting in your chest. but truly, what can be done when you’ll always have a big fat target on your back that labels you as nothing more than a fatuus? you’ve chosen this wretched bed, now you must lie in it.

and lie you will.

with a forced laugh, you feign a reminiscent smile. “a-ah, it’s actually quite silly— i believe it goes without mention that my friends and i are foreigners and still wildly foreign to fontainian customs. we were invited to a meeting with lady furina and monsieur neuvillette in the spirit of diplomacy but, ahah… i guess we were unfamiliar with lady furina’s predilection for sweets and just took one for ourselves!”

wriothesley laughs in turn, but you’re unable to discern how genuine it is. you watch his periwinkle eyes flicker briefly toward your untouched teacup and suddenly, the atmosphere turns into one akin to a game of chess— innately hostile and strategic, where both of you must be hyper aware of the other’s next move lest you make a mistake and lose your carefully constructed composure.

“i must say it is an unlikely set of circumstances…”

you subconsciously look toward wriothesley’s own teacup, seeing that his remains as unsipped as yours. with a chilling feeling, you look back up to see that the duke’s gaze was already fixated on you, which means he saw you checking his teacup. which means he knows that you know.

“though, i’ve got to ask… what exactly entails your position in the fatui? this is purely out of my own curiosity, as most of our inmates all come from the house of the hearth.”

you swallow hard.

“well… i’m head of the infirmary, that’s all my position is, really. the sergeant title is just a half-assed justification for how high my ranking is.”

the calculating hint to wriothesley’s gaze softens in the slightest amount possible and he lightly looks off to the side, as if reminded of something, or someone he knows by your answer.

“i work directly under the second fatui harbinger, il dottore. i’m somewhat his… assistant.” the word assistant leaves your mouth with a tinge of disdainfulness as your body almost instinctively tenses at the mention of… him. the duke picks up on it.

“the doctor, huh— haven’t heard much about him myself, but what i have heard seems like more than enough for me.” you can’t help but snort at that.

“do you like it? working for him, that is.”

you’re staggered into silence and a shocked expression— the suddenness of the question completely taking you by surprise. the speechlessness you feel is painfully reminiscent of when kunikuzushi asked you if you’d like to kill dottore. despite the answer being obvious to you, there’s a subconscious fear gnawing at your side that dottore might be out here listening, disguised as someone else or as one of his segments, living a false life. but you can’t allow yourself to live in fear of him anymore— his segments are gone and he’s pathetically stuck in zapolyarny palace by himself while you’ve been out and traveling miles and miles away from snezhnaya. kunikuzushi doesn’t fear him, so why should you?

you’ve always been terrible at bluffing, so fuck it— you might as well not bluff at all.

instead of answering wriothesley immediately, you lunge for the teacup and gulp down the entire thing, much to his surprise. the duke is stunned in return as he merely watches attentively for your reaction to the serum. the silence between the two of you is prolonged as you give the serum time to take effect. the taste itself is a delightful, slight earthy flavor— making it even more enticing to drink normally for one unaware of the leaf’s properties. you don’t feel any different after a few seconds, if not ever so slightly woozier. you breathe in and out deeply, letting the first answer that comes to your mind be the one that comes out.

“i take my job very seriously, your grace— i am a medic, my ambition is to save lives. and there isn’t a soul in teyvat that i would ever want to kill more than i want to kill him.”

the answer feels foreign and unexpected even to yourself. the first time you were asked such a question, before one who was once the balladeer and dottore’s experimental god, your answer was no. it felt easier to say no— to tell him you’d rather he be the one to end the doctor’s reign of terror, because for the most part it was true. but then kunikuzushi found closure, he found new life and prosperity in places outside of godhood or tormenting others or spiting his ‘mother’ or going after dottore.

and you, you stayed the same. you’re still suffocating within the grimy, clawed grasp of the second fatui harbinger. you’ve been through so much, visited four different nations within the span of the last year, fought an abyssal creature and an artificial, nearly god-like being yet you still feel as stuck as you did while you were still stationed in snezhnaya. you’re still stuck having reasons to want to kill dottore, kunikuzushi moved past his.

the duke still can’t find an immediate response, as he merely scoffs incredulously at what he’s just watched. you see a faint glaze take over his gaze when he looks aimlessly down at his desk, as if truly involving himself in memories of the past— his eyebrows furrow briefly, as though the memories he recalls aren’t good ones. something grips at your throat, an anxious feeling, as you regret being so impulsive as to reveal something so damning about yourself. to a prison warden, no less. you feel as though you’ve sobered up and feel the need to make up for what you said and excuse yourself, but before you can even open your mouth wriothesley is already standing from his chair.

“well i respect your honesty, sergeant. i’m afraid we’ll have to leave our talk here, as i have to welcome more of the new prisoners into the fortress, maybe even your friends will be amongst them— i’ll make sure to give them the word that you’re here.”

you nod briskly and scurry to leave the office while the duke insists on seeing you out himself. your head pounds with nervousness, and perhaps slightly with the truth serum tea you just downed all at once— so much so that you almost don’t notice wriothesley’s hand sticking out once again in a polite handshake. much less do you notice the fascinated studying scan of his eyes across your face as your hand meets his.

“and again— welcome to the fortress of meropide, y/n.”

you don’t sleep well on your first night at the fortress.

perhaps it’s due to not being used to the overwhelming pressure of the water, perhaps due to the lack of warmth that your metal surroundings bring, perhaps a side effect of the tea.

or perhaps… it’s because you dream of ajax.

at first, the dream is sweet— drowning in cheesy, tooth-rooting romance tropes dug from the most delusional corners of your brain, ones that you desperately tried to suppress after you got over your phase of reading romance novels as a child. you’re reliving the tension-filled moment inside your hotel bathroom from the other morning, where some mystical force had pulled you and ajax so close together you shared the same breath, getting painstakingly closer still. only this time, instead of getting interrupted by those guards, the scene keeps going… and going… until you truly, finally meet each other in the middle.

within the misty midsts of your slumber, it almost feels real— there’s a shock of electricity when your lips touch, your heart beats faster from even outside the dream, you can nearly feel the warm sigh of satisfaction that ajax lets out from his nose and onto your face. but it still isn’t enough, the tightness in ajax’s desperate grip onto the back of your head and on the small of your back aren’t present enough. the juxtaposition of his fiery warm skin against your own cold one isn’t contrasting enough, your skin doesn’t burn as fiercely as it does when you touch him in the waking world.

and soon enough, the dream shifts… shifts into scenes of ajax inside the fortress. you’re not lucid enough to find the images strange, as you’ve never seen him inside the fortress yet— so you remain stuck, watching as he sneaks past a plethora of guards to reach a decrepit tunnel, overridden with plant-life as it connects out into the fontainian sea. your vision starts to blend incomprehensibly like watercolors on wet paper, until all the remains is a blinding, blue mess and a faint whisper in ajax’s voice:

“something’s… calling me… i… i have to go…”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap @koichirana

and don’t forget to boycott this shitty game!!

[blissfulip]

Dopamine

on AO3

Viktor x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, idiots in love (?) dubious science, mostly canon compliant, no use of y/n, chemist!reader, eventual smut, masturbation, angry sex, unprotected sex,

Cw: uhhhh smut

Words: 2.5k

[A/N: russian very kindly corrected by soln, ly<3, tags and content warnings to be updated in each chapter, updates weekly(ish). (also, let me know if you want to be tagged in fic updates!)]

Tags: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @chemical-killjoy @jinxed-jk @bobobomao

Previous Next

Chapter 6: Big-headed? (NSFW)

The corridor leading to Heimerdinger's office was markedly narrower and longer than the others at The Academy, as though he was covertly attempting to thwart visitors. It didn’t stop you, however, and as you found out when you got there, it hadn’t stopped Viktor either. It made sense that, at one point in his life, long before you even met each other, these halls must have been a habitual destination. His close-knit relationship with the professor also showed itself confidently in the volume of his voice, a line that, despite your frustration with the situation, you’d never dare to cross.

You had every intention of staying put and waiting for him to come out, but the half-open door compromised your presence, and given that you were almost certainly there to make a fuss about the same issue, you decided to get it done and over with; after all, perchance Viktor's presence there could give your argument a compelling edge.

"Well, I’m glad you were able to join us at last, dear. I trust you are feeling better." Heimerdinger started.

“I’m okay; yes, thank you for the concern, professor. I should say I have a surmise that I am here for the same reason as him."

“Yes, I was trying to argue that our work styles do not meld well, and making us work together for any period of time greater than 5 minutes could be catastrophic; would you confirm as much?”

“Absolutely, I can do the work all on my own if that’s necessary; just don't make me work with him.”

“Interestingly enough, he has offered to do the same. Although I do commend both of you for your altruism, I must insist. This is what the Academy has decided.”

“Professor, if I may—"

“Enough delays, my boy; the decision is final. If I were you, I would get to it immediately; you have only a couple of hours to work.” You were swiftly rushed out the door by him, swept away by tiny, impatient footsteps and a heavy wooden door closing behind you.

Another door closed right on your faces when the sweet librarian denied you access on the pretense that your arguing had inconvenienced a whole two people the past couple of weeks, and you were now banned from using the premises at the same time. You had to compromise and go in by yourself to get the books you needed and then go all the way to the half-empty and uncomfortably cold cafeteria tables, where you worked tirelessly until you were yet again kicked out once the place closed. 

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

A couple infectious yawns and rubbed eyes later, you leaned back on the stiff plastic chair and stretched your back.

“What time is it?”

“Past 9.” Viktor answered after lazily turning around to try to make out what the clock read. You groaned loudly.

“We’ll need to move again—my dorm or yours?"

“Mine is probably cleaner.”

“Are you implying I’m messy?”

“No, I am affirming as much.”

“Rude.” You were offended, though only as a habit, because he was not entirely wrong.

“Oh no, have I offended you? Someone put me out of my misery!” He dramatized.

“I’d be first in line.” You said already standing up and walking in the direction of his dormitory.

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

“Not everything needs to be done your way, you know?"

In the wake of the cafeteria work stretch, you had found yourselves completely spent and depleted. With most of the work done and text written, you had taken some minutes to stretch and rest your eyes. Viktor had informed you as soon as you got there that it was imperative that you were as silent as possible, given the next-door neighbor's propensity to complain about noise.

You did your best to keep it down, of course, and granted, you had been doing a particularly good job. That is, until Viktor decided to wonder who between the two of you would be the one actually giving the speech with the material you had prepared. Although you did your best to ask him politely at first, his immediate negative response caused you to get defensive.

“I wrote most of the text; why can’t you just do me a favor once?

“It’s not a favor if you have to throw me under a train for it! You know I hate speaking in public, and genuinely, I’m dog-tired of you being so incorrigibly selfish.”

“I’m not selfish, how am I selfish?” You said almost forgetting you had to keep the volume down.

“You never think about any consequences, ever. You can go around saying you are a free spirit and spontaneous and fun as much as you like, but if truth be told, you are nothing but cataclysmic chaos!”

“I don’t make mistakes on purpose, Viktor; it happens; you just have zero empathy because you insist on making everyone believe you are the Academy’s perfect golden boy! You never make mistakes, and you never do anything wrong, right?. But I know all you really do is push people away because everyone is afraid of disappointing you! I don't know. If you were a little less hostile, maybe you’d have some friends."

“You mean friends like you? I’d rather staple my ears together than be friends with a jumbled  mess. He said, standing up from the chair, his nose flaring up as he inhaled a sharp breath and held his cane forcefully. “You are so excruciatingly intolerable, overwhelming, big-headed—”

“Big-headed?"

“That is what you take offense to?”

You couldn’t say anything beyond a dismissive shrug, and you knew your disregard for his opinion was what would sting the most anyway.

The silence was loud; it could be felt in the air between you, the irate flare of irritation in his gritted teeth, his ears colored in that familiar tone of blush, and his eyebrows uncomfortably knit together as he whisper-screamed at you. He took a couple steps forward, leaving you at no farther than a palm's distance. The sudden closeness somehow did not bother you; you could hear both of your breaths, heavy and panting from the strain of containing your screams, and you could tell by the heat you felt all over your head and stomach that your cheeks probably mirrored the flush on Viktor’s face.

In hindsight, you never really understood why you didn’t talk back to him after that last comment. You had so many things in mind you could have said, but an unknown force pulled your attention away from his amber eyes glowing with rage to his lips instead, which were a bloody cherry red from biting on them too much. You couldn’t look away, and Viktor quickly noticed.

Then his shoulders visibly lost tension.

"Ah…prydoruk,” he whispered, mostly to himself, and you wished you understood because it somehow felt like another insult. Perplexity became fright when the loud clang of his cane falling directed your eyes to the floor, but in an instant, both of his hands were holding your face firmly, and one of them slithered in between the locks of your hair.

You hated how fast your guard fell. His fingers, icy yet delicate, caressing the lines of your jaw, were enough to disarm you completely. You mouthed multiple offenses at him under your breath as you searched for his lips. You were agonizingly in need of each other’s taste. Your hands had a strong grip on his shirt, tugging at it unintentionally as your body, which desperately wanted that idiot, tried to gripe with your rationality. The war in Viktor’s mind was a similar one, but just as much as yours, his body was unable to pull back.

Eventually you needed to catch your breath from the kiss, beyond hungry, and when you pulled back just slightly, you looked at each other like two deer in headlights, frozen in place by a blend of contradicting emotions that prevented you from moving and still holding each other closely. Viktor moved first, and when he kissed you again, you could feel his hands move almost on their own, going against his orders to wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him. He felt his lungs grow hungry for air as his tongue buried itself deep inside your throat.

“Stop pulling," he tried to whisper in between kisses. You shushed him, bringing a finger up to his lips, and started leaving a trail of kisses along his jawbone. “If you tear my shirt, I—” He tried once again, but your lips got to his neck at the same time, and his sentence changed into a muffled groan.

“I won’t. Just shut up; don’t make me think too much about this; just sh—”

“So crass,” he said as he walked backwards to the bed, pulling you along with him. “You’re so unpleasant."

“You have history that says otherwise, asshat."

You already had a leg on the bed, fully intending to push him on it to straddle his lap, but he moved faster than you could think and shifted to hover above you. He crawled up slowly without ever stopping the deep kiss you were sharing and used one of his knees to push your legs apart, positioning himself between them. You tried not to react, but the feeling of his erection against you prompted a slight chuckle to come out of your throat. 

“If this is how you get when I’m unpleasant, I can’t imagine what could happen if I were nice to you.” you smirked. He sank his teeth against your skin in response, leaving a small bite mark on your collarbone before he whispered.

“You are not funny, Zaychik."

“You’re just humorless." You said this as you pulled his shirt over his head. This must have been the open invitation he was waiting for to introduce a hand under your dress, completely bunching it up to gain precious access to your bare chest.

Although the energy of the room had shifted noticeably, the pooling heat in between you never replaced the ravenous disposition. You still felt the frustration in him as he bit into you multiple times, leaving a wake of purple and red bruises you would have to explain the next day. You didn’t know if his motivations were guided by a fit of lust or if it was a way to punish you for all of the irritation you had caused him throughout the years of knowing each other; either way, it felt good, and you did not care to keep pondering.

His hand trickled down to your underwear in excruciatingly slow designs, one of his eyebrows raising in a self-congratulatory expression when he felt the dampness of the fabric.

“Pat yourself in the back; why don't you?” You said, rolling your eyes. He did not answer, and, to your astonishment, he did not take your underwear off. He took his hand back up, bringing the fingers wet with arousal into his mouth, pulled down the elastic of his sweatpants and underwear to reveal a cock you wished you hadn’t gasped at, and pulled your underwear to the side to position himself at your entrance, all without ever breaking eye contact.

Even though he was panting abnormally loud and you could tell he would probably soon burst into a cloud of smoke, he still nodded slightly at you, asking for confirmation, and when you nodded back, he impatiently tilted his hips as far as the position allowed it and his leg could withstand, plunging into you with hungry zeal. He didn’t start slow; he was incisive and deep with every thrust, making sure he was completely inside you with every move. Calculated bastard

You used both hands around his back to hold yourself steady, your not exactly manicured nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulder blades as you did your best to not make any noises too loud. Down on the bed under him, you pondered the dim light in the room and the curious designs of the roof. They might as well have been figments of your imagination, swirls of light and haziness as your eyes filled with tears.

You confused the erratic rhythm of his hips for what you thought at first was the arrival of his unraveling and immediately realized was simply his leg tiring out, and you gathered enough momentum to push him off of you, his back now on the bed, and you were ready to ride him. Long overdue, you thought, you couldn’t let him get his way with you without having a mirriad of his whimpers to your name. Your pace wasn’t slow either; you drove him into you with the roll of your hips, making sure you could feel him in the right spots.

The look of enamoured trance on his face as you bounced on his lap was far from the vexed expression you were expecting, and the suppressed groans of pleasure touched something in you that made you suddenly bashful. You leaned over to nuzzle your face against the crook of his neck and pressed your lips against his when his grin was getting too wide for comfort. You devoured each other again for what felt like too little time before you could feel the overwhelming heat in your core preparing you for your climax.

You tried to tell Viktor you were about to come, but something in your face must have made that obvious, because he brought you close again by the back of your neck, your mouths nearly touching each other as he spoke.

“Say my name,” he murmured into your mouth.

“Yeah, right”

The hand on your neck slithered its way up to your hair, which he tugged at firmly.

“Say it; I know you’re close.”

“Fuck you.” You hissed, neither of you being able to contain a half-pleasure, half irritation, out-of-breath groan.

It didn’t take much longer before you felt the brief pain and sweet spasm that followed it, and Viktor revealed the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock. You took a second to compose yourself with your forehead pressed against his, and then gave him a devilish grin as you slid down to his lap. His eyes opened wide when you pressed the heat of his erection flat on your tongue, taking it in as far as you could manage.

His head shot back and his face contorted in pleasure, the hand that hadn’t left your hair oscillating between pulling at it harshly and gently caressing your head. You tasted him, salty, in your throat soon enough, and sat up after swallowing every drop of it. Viktor drew you back to him, and you laid there next to each other, avoiding eye contact, even though you were too high from your orgasms to feel any regret yet.

‘Yet’ came soon enough, though.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Thirteen: ‘One Thousand Apologies’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

a/n: this chapter is a pretty short one solely because it leads directly into the next chapter and if i where to combine them it’d 100% would of been way to long😭😭 anyways hope you huns enjoy Xx<3💋

apologizing to Anakin was one thing. it was easy especially after you’d both opened your hearts to one another, apologizing to Padme however was going to be a completely different thing. everything was going smooth thus far since Anakin’s confession that morning, but you were nervous. you knew Padme and you knew she’d forgive you but you had this overwhelming guilt. it was eating you alive as you waited for her to arrive for the day. you twist the ring on your finger becoming lost in your thoughts as you await her arrival. not even entirely sure of what you were going to say or how to start your apology.

as soon as she enters the tea room you’re on your feet. she freezes for a moment processing the fact that your actually acknowledging her existence before carefully continuing in, closing the doors behind her. there’s an awkward silence as you both stare at each other waiting for someone to make the first move. you almost wished you could just pretend as if everything was normal and although you knew if you did do that she’d go along with it, you also knew she deserved better.

she was your best friend and the distance you wedged between the two of you albeit one sided- needed to be addressed. you clear your throat and gesture to the chair beside you wordlessly asking her to take a seat, she takes the offer. silently walking over to you and sitting down, you pull another seat directly in front of her to join her. still you both remain silent for a moment as you struggle to find the words, reaching forward to take her hands into yours as she had done to you days ago when trying to offer you comfort.

“Padme…” you force yourself to keep eye contact as you start to speak, wanting to show your sincerity. “i am so sorry, what i did was wrong. i should not have ignored you the way i did, it was childish-” she cuts you off before you can finish your sentence “y/n, i am not mad at you” she looks at you with nothing but pure sympathy. “i know you aren’t mad but it doesn’t excuse my behavior” she shakes her head at you “you where hurting and reacted accordingly, yes it wasn’t the best way to go about it but i understood- i understand” she squeezes your hands reassuringly.

“please let me apologize, i know you understand but you must realize you did not have to do what you did- what you’ve done. you stick beside me even as i pushed you away, you didn’t give up on me even though i would of more than understood if you had.” she gives you a gentle smile, letting out a soft chuckle “y/n you forget our friendship is not one sided, nor is it fragile. i will always be here for you the same way i know you will be for me.” you feel your eyes begin to water and just as quickly you are pulled into her arms. “thank you for the apology i appreciate it” she adds not wanting to brush off what you where trying to do. you both indulge in the hug for a moment, staying in each others embrace before pulling away and smiling.

you both can’t help but laugh. it felt nice, therapeutic almost. “i think we may have more important matters to discuss now” she says with a smile, leaning back in her chair. “like what?” you snort, shifting in your own seat to get more comfortable. “well for starters who’s responsible for finally pulling you out of your own head, who should i be thanking for giving me my friend back?” she’s smiling as she asks, giving you a look that you could only assume meant she already knew.

to be fair it’s not like there where many options for people who’d speak out to you. “You and I both know you’ve already got an idea as to who it was” she laughs, turning her head to the side and gestures silently over to a few of the castle servants. they work quickly, moving the small table to where you both where sat. setting up a small tea party for you both, one of the servants pouring you both a cup of tea adding in milk and sugar to your likings. “of course i do but that doesn’t mean i don’t want to hear you say it” you can’t help but roll your eyes, bringing your cup of tea to your lips before taking a sip. she gives you a smug smile before mirroring your actions.

“what else did you want to discuss?” you ask curiously, she hums for a short moment as she thinks to herself. “we have to address the situation publicly…” you feel your heart sink, looking down into your tea cup to stare at the liquid in order to avoid eye contact. “you don’t have to do a announcement if that’s what your worried about- there are other ways we can go about this matter y/n” you take a deep breath, looking back up at her and placing your tea down. “i don’t have to do an announcement but if feels like i should, a murder and attempted one is not something that can just be so easily looked over”

“well there are ways you could do so indirectly” she quips perking your interest in an instant. “how so?” she places her own tea down now, sitting a bit straighter before she begins. “let’s start with the council members. forget an announcement, skip straight to punishing them and let the news come out in articles as it usually would. then simply replace them, business as usual. you’re the queen, the people already know what’s happened there so there’s no real need to address them in particular.” you nod carefully taking in her advice, tapping on the table beside you with one of your fingers as you think. “that leaves us with one thing”

“addressing your fathers murder and the attempted murder on Anakin” you nod letting out a sigh, leaning your head into your palm. “i don’t feel as if you have to address it head on. write a statement about what happened to your father and have it printed and released in the papers” you purse your lips in thought “but what about the attempt on Anakin’s life?” Padme goes silently, briefly contemplating what you could do to address it while also avoiding the spotlight. “maybe not a statement with words but a gesture, something to show you and him aren’t going anywhere nor are you scared. even though you are but they don’t need to know that.”

a gesture? what could you do to act as a gesture big enough to garner everyone’s attention whilst simultaneously showing there’s nothing to fear.

Anakin sat directly beside you, Listening carefully as you and Padme explained what you’d been discussing. you’d called him in for more than just coming up with an idea- actually you’d already figured out what you wanted to do the problem was you didn’t know how to execute it without his help.

“so you need help coming up with a gesture then?” he asks curiously running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Yes-” “No-” you and Padme both speak at the same time, her turning to you in confusion when she hears you say no. you keep your attention on Anakin however as you speak “do you remember when we discussed the things you liked about your kingdom?” he blinks a few times processing your words as he thinks back through your conversations, the gears turning in his head. you watch as he visibly lights up once he realizes what you’re hinting at “The Races?”

“Yes!” you exclaim happily now turning to Padme to see if she was beginning to see where you were going with this. she seems more curious than anything, which to be fair you didn’t have horse races in Alderaan so it made sense it hadn’t clicked for her yet. “It’s a big event that brings together a lot of people. pretty much anyone can participate as long as they have a horse to ride” Anakin begins to explain the details behind the Tatooine tradition, happily reciting the rules and regulations.

“it’s the perfect thing that could unite the people and us, a public event for the Ton to participate in and if Anakin raced as well then it’d also serve as a way for us to show we aren’t afraid. let them know we’re with them. we could add a Ball as well, so that we can socialize and maybe give a brief statement?” you suggest the idea to the both of them, Anakin grows more excited at the mention of him being able to participate. Padme seems completely onboard as well, perking up at all the new info.

“i think this to be a wonderful idea, and in all honesty you could probably use the excitement of the whole event to sweep this under the rug. at the end of the day its up to you of course” you nod at her comment. there was a lot to think of and a lot to take care of if you wanted this to happen and for it to be successful. you couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled over all of the fear and doubts. Anakin seemed to be even more excited than you, tapping his foot against the ground ready to jump up at any moment.

“well for this to work we’d better get started now, i believe we have a letter to write.” you say with a smile as you turn to Anakin.

part 14

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

this chapter was a bit short but the next chapter is going to be very long ☝️ not to mention possibly a big milestone for reader and Anakin👀 it’s either going to happen in this next chapter or the one after 💪 but anyways love you all and i hope you love reader and Padmes friendship as much as me💋💋 oh and one more thing, i hope you guys haven’t forgotten about Barclay 🌝

[em-prentiss]

I love all your soft Sundays fics! I am currently re-reading all of them. I am in need of some fluff rn. Just them being soft and domestic is everything and really my go to fics aha. Are you planning another one hehe? Can you write a secret relationship reveal where they didn’t realize it, but they started doing some soft thing that they usually do when it’s just the two of them and they forget everyone else around them?

Aw yay, I'm so happy you love them! They're some of my absolute faves too <3 this prompt was short enough to be a blurb, so I added it to this series🫶🏼

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intertwined, sewn together

Chapter 3

A series of unconnected fluff blurbs <3

Word count: 0.9k

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The case files have been shoved to the edges of the conference room table, bags of takeout and carton drink holders taking their place in the middle instead. Though crime scene pictures are still hung up on the whiteboard directly in view of the hungry agents, they hardly seem to dull their appetites.

It has been six hours since they’ve eaten, after all. Six hours of pouring their brains out into a case that doesn’t want to make sense. The clock has barely hit twelve, and Emily’s sure they’re all hanging by a rapidly thinning thread.

Morgan balls up his wrapper and tosses it into the trashcan with a smooth arc just as she’s uncovering her first burger. The crinkle of paper wrappers is a welcome change from their confounded, frustrated silence, however when Reid pipes up again Emily stifles her groan into her food. 

“We said that he could be disorganized, but what if there’s more than one unsub? There were at least three different weapons and the MO was—”

“There was only one set of prints at the scene.” Rossi says tiredly. 

Emily doesn’t blame either of them; not Reid’s resilience or Rossi’s palpable exhaustion. She tries to chase away her own frustration by pressing her knee against Aaron’s thigh, methodically chewing her burger and focusing on the flavor that blooms on her tongue rather than the persistent call of the crime scene photos.

It almost works. Reid falls silent again, Aaron’s thumb rubs a quick circle on her slacks, but that’s just when the tart sourness of pickles evades her senses. Emily frowns and stops chewing, tentatively opening up her burger and stifling another groan when she finds the telltale cucumbers nestled between the buns.

Her brow pinches in annoyance. She told Morgan no pickles.

The half-chewed mouthful on her tongue grows heavy, but she bites back a shudder and swallows it down. Emily opens up her burger, her nose scrunching as she grabs a slimy pickle with the tips of her nails. In an easy, practiced move, she holds out her offering and tosses it onto Aaron’s wrapper on the table, amongst his few fries. From the corner of her eye, she sees him take it—uncaring that it’s half bitten by her teeth—lifting the edge of his bun and stuffing it inside as she drops two more on his wrapper.

Just when her burger is free of pickles, Emily notices the unusually thick silence that has fallen.

She looks up, bristling when she finds Morgan staring at her. At her and Aaron—and so is everyone else, Emily notices, the fog in her brain clearing when she realizes what she’s done. What they both have. Aaron goes still next to her, and she forces her eyes away from him and onto Morgan instead.

“I told you no pickles,” she snaps. Her voice echoes in the silence of the conference room.

Morgan raises a slow brow, making her skin itch as she crumples a tissue in her fist to soak up the pickle juice on her fingertips. “You seem to manage just fine with them.” He notes, with no apology. His eyes not so subtly fall to the rest of the pickles on Aaron’s wrapper.

Her knee slams almost violently against his. Aaron clears his throat, his tone purposely flat. “Prentiss knows I like pickles. She doesn’t, so she gives me hers,” he elaborates, unnecessarily.

Dave smiles, the stretch of his lips too smug. “And, ah, how did Prentiss come to know that about you?”

Emily huffs as an irrational heat rises to her cheeks. “Well I don’t know, it’s not like we’ve known each other for five years,” she snarks, her knee now bouncing into Aaron’s. It doesn’t help that his hand dips below the table, his fingers gently gripping her leg until it stills. “I don’t know why you’re making it a big deal—”

“Aw,” JJ drawls as she rests her chin on her fist, a new light shining in her eyes as she follows the line of Aaron’s arm, “it’s like the olive theory. Only with pickles.”

“The olive theory?” Aaron and Emily echo. Reid’s brows furrow as well.

“You hate pickles and Hotch likes them, which makes you a compatible couple. Perfectly balanced.” The corners of her lips tip up in a small smirk.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous—”

“We are not dating—”

“Give it up, kids,” Rossi interrupts, wiping his mouth with a napkin and neatly balling it up along with his empty wrapper. “I saw you,” he raises his brows at Aaron, “swapping your fries with hers.”

“He didn’t do that.” Emily says. She turns to Aaron, frowning a little. He didn’t, did he? She never saw anything. “You didn’t.”

If they were alone, the subtle pink to his cheeks would’ve made her kiss them. The tips of Aaron’s ears turn a deeper red as he sighs, quietly, the brown of his eyes meeting the brown of hers.

“Mine had more.” 

He says it more like a confession; his voice soft, his shoulders raising in a small shrug like it’s no big deal.

“Oh.” Emily replies. Softly, too, as if she’s surprised. She turns her eyes to the small pile of fries lying on his spread out wrapper, and then to her own fries still in their container. Her heart skips, her cheeks warm, and though she tries to stifle it, a smile starts tugging at her lips. 

Emily knocks her knee into his thigh again, gently. Thank you.

Aaron’s hand finds her own thigh. He squeezes quickly—you’re welcome.

She doesn’t look at him as she grabs the corner of his wrapper, dragging it—and the pickles—in front of her. Ignoring the silence and the eyes on her, Emily picks up her fries and tips half of them next to Aaron’s burger, evening their load. His intake of breath alerts her to his protest before he even speaks.

“Em—” 

“Still not dating?” Dave asks.

Emily pops a fry into her mouth. “Fuck off.”

taglist: @kllingdaddy @luhwithah @cheetobreath07 @dontemilyyyyme

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter twenty five

Summary: Cry Baby stands up for herself, however, when it leads to another confession... will she regret it?

Warning: Screaming, crying... throwing up?

Word Count:

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

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A/N: You asked, I delivered? - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

Replaying the evening’s events over and over in your mind, you were unable to find any peace in sleep or distraction in your art. You spiraled into a pit of overthinking. Bucky’s confession and Peter’s departure gnawed at you relentlessly. You couldn’t stand it anymore.

With the surge of frustration and need for answers, you stormed out of your apartment, called a taxi, and made your way to Bucky’s place. The city lights blurred as they drove by. The cool night air from the cracked window failed to calm your racing heart. 

When arriving at Bucky’s building, you rushed to his door, pounding with all your might. Your anger propelling you. Banging echoed through the hallway, and it wasn’t long before the door swung open. Bucky stood there with a look of surprise and concern. 

“What’s going on? Are you o–” he asked, but you didn’t give him the chance to finish. Storming past him into his apartment, your emotions were beginning to boil over. 

“Why, Bucky?” you demanded, turning to face him. Your voice was filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Why would you tell Peter about the kiss? Why now?”

Closing the door, he turned to face you, his expression conflicted. “I… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stand hearing him talk about you like… like he knew everything about you.” 

“You had no right to tell him!” you shot back, pacing the room.

His eyes flashed with frustration. “And, what am I supposed to do? Just sit there and listen while he goes on and on about how perfect everything is. Do you think that’s easy for me?” 

Your voice broke as you yelled. “This isn’t about you, Bucky! I was trying to move past it, and now you’ve ruined everything and made a mess!” 

Bucky stepped closer, and his breathing quickened. “I care about you, and seeing you with him… I know I messed up, but I couldn’t just sit and pretend it didn’t happen.” 

Your face flushed as your anger flared even hotter. “What about Leah? How do you think she felt finding out you kissed me? How did she react?”

His face twisted, a pang of guilt rushed through him and he hesitated for a moment. “She already knew.” 

You stared at him, frozen in disbelief. Your voice was small as your gaze searched his. “She what?” 

“Leah already knew,” he repeated, his voice softer, almost matching yours. “I told her right after it happened. We talked about it,” 

“Talked about it?” you echoed. “So, she gets to know the truth from you… But, Peter doesn’t get to hear it from me? How is that fair, Bucky?” 

He avoided your gaze, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not. I know it’s not. But, Leah and I… we have an understanding.”

Shaking your head, tears brimmed in your eyes. “You don’t get it. You don’t understand what you’ve done. You took that from me.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping closer again. “I never wanted to hurt you–”

Your laughter cut him off, the tension in the room growing. You turned away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself, shielding your emotions. “You keep saying that, but it seems all you do is hurt me.”

His frustration mounted, his voice rising again."I was trying to protect you!" he shouted, causing you to flinch as tears streamed down your face. "I didn't want you hurting any more than you already were!" 

You opened your mouth to speak, but he wasn't done. His chest heaved with anger, and his voice boomed as he continued. "I've done things for you, things you don't even know about!" 

"What... what are you talking about?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as you turned to face him again.  

He took a deep breath, his fists were clenched at his side, yet his body trembled. "I committed murder for you!" he shouted, the confession hung in the air like a storm cloud.

You staggered back, his words shocking you like a physical blow. “What… you did what?” you stammered with a shaking voice.

The man you had known your whole life, who had always been there for you, crossed a line you never imagined.

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Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[wandafiction]

Beautiful - Just Us Chapter 4

Warnings 18+: Smut, Fingering (Wanda receiving), teasing.

Word Count: 1708

Series List | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

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I feel Wanda start to grind her centre against my stomach as I walk us up the small flight of stairs, to get to the second floor of the penthouse, walking us to the master bedroom. I can feel her wetness pooling in her underwear and some of it sticking to her thighs, and now my stomach too. Just this simple act wants to make me ravish her right then and there...so I will.

We only make it to the threshold of the master bedroom, before I push her against the inside of the door frame; the door is open and inviting. However, I keep us here, her centre grinding against me more as her patience grows thin. Both my hands are on her bum keeping her safe in the air, while our lips meet in a heated kiss. I smirk when I feel her grip around my neck tighten so I decide to move my lips down her neck finding her pulse point almost immediately. I nip and suck on it harshly, hearing her gasp, happy with the mark I have left I move my kisses down her neck. I nip and suck at different points trying to gauge her reactions, some spots cause her to moan, others cause her to grind more into me while others cause my name to spill out of her mouth...sensitive neck much. 

Slowly I move my lips to her left collar moan leaving a small mark there, a small 'please' leaves her mouth but I am not done teasing. I move my lips to her shoulders where her dress and bra strap are, taking them into my mouth and lifting them slightly. I let them snap back onto her skin. She gasps at the feeling, so I do it again this time a small whimper leaves her mouth. Time to get rid of them. Keeping one hand on her bum, my right hand moves up her back finding the zip of her dress. I start to pull it down slowly, allowing my fingers to graze across her bare skin, smirking when I see goosebumps spread across her body and she shivers at the contact. 

"Please no more teasing y/n. I need you." Wanda pleads, her body still grinding against mine so I push her further against the door frame. If that's even possible. And it halts her movements as there is no room for her body to move.

"You're such a good girl for me princess, just a little longer." I use my free hand, moving back up her back to release her bra in one swift movement. I bring my mouth back to her dress and bra strap and use my teeth to move it down her arm, and do the same on the other side. 

She seems to get the message, releasing her grip from my neck so she can remove her bra and dress from her arms. The bra gets thrown haphazardly across the room, her dress now pooling at her waist. I almost drool at the sight of her perky breast, her nipples standing to attention in front of me. I don't give Wanda time to comprehend my next move as I take her right nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the nub, every now and again my teeth graze across it. My hand that was on her back moves to play with the other nipple and breast as her chest starts to heave. I gently nibble on the nipple and pull away from it with a pop, my hand and mouth swap sides giving each breast the same attention. 

Her hands move up above her head, bending back to hold onto the door frame for support as I move my hand from her breast down her stomach and to her center. Her hips jolt at the feeling as I start running a finger through her folds, collecting as much wetness as I can and wow there is a lot. 

"Someone's excited." Before she can say anything I smash our lips together and slip a single digit into her entrance. I place my thumb on her clit and start making small circles as my finger pumps into her. Small moans and swears leave her lips the more I move inside her. I add another finger and lower her slightly so I can rest my hand on my hip bone which I use to help thrust into her. A pornographic moan leaves her mouth the deeper my fingers get curling against her walls every other thrust, my hips pushing against my hand into her. My thumb matches the rhythm of each thrust. I feel her walls flutter around my fingers.

"Oh my god! Y/n! I'm going to….I'm cumming!" With one final thrust I feel her walls suffocate my fingers as her juices collect around my hand and her thighs. 

I keep a slow movement in her to help her ride out her high, her head slumps onto my shoulders as her arms move from the door frame to lazily wrap around my shoulder a neck. Once she calms down a bit more, I remove my hand and she hums into my shoulder shifting slightly in my grip.

"You okay princess?" 

Wanda removes her head from the crook of my neck, taking her bottom lip between her teeth giving me a small nod.

"I'm going to need words." 

"Wow...just...that was wow. Just give me like a minute to calm down before anything else." I give her a small smile.

"Of course. So you think you have more in you, you want to take this to the bed?" 

"I do, you made me feel so good. The night is still young, but you're wearing too many clothes." I slowly set her on the floor, her legs wobble a bit but she soon gains her composure, her dress pools around her legs as she steps out of it leaving her in just her panties. 

"Hmmm maybe you should do something about that." She looks up at me with dark eyes.

"Maybe I should." Wanda's arms move underneath my jacket, at the shoulders, moving down my arms slowly as she guides it off slowly. "Does this need hanging up, it looks too expensive to belong on the floor." I let out a small laugh.

"It's okay, it can end up on the floor, it can end up on the chair, it can even end up on the bed. Or around you." She quirks an eyebrow as she takes the jacket fully off my body, holding in the air with one finger before allowing it to drop to the floor. 

"Whoops." I smile gently at her, as her arms move up to the waistcoat undoing the few buttons there before it joins the jacket on the floor. 

She guides her hands down to my pant buttons, undoing the belt buckle and the zip. She slowly snakes the belt out of each of the belt loops, holding it up between us a playful glint plays across her eyes before she drops the belt to the floor. I have a feeling she wants to use the belt later on, but I won't push her tonight. I hope this isn't the only time we get to see one another. 

Wanda untucks my shirt from my pants, slowly moving her arms up the middle of the shirt as she undoes each and every button. She pulls the shirt open slightly and I see her gaze drop down to my defined abs and the V- line that I have been working very hard to form. Seems to be paying off.

"Someone works out." One of her hands trace over my abs, her nails cause goosebumps to appear on my skin as she moves her hand down from the tip of my abs to the V-line, my muscles twitching at her touch. While she continues to trace my body with one hand her other hand makes light work of removing my shirt leaving me in my black lace bra.

Both her hands are now on my pants as she slowly edges them down my legs, all the while planting soft kisses across and down my chest. As her hands slide down my legs, I gently take off my shoes using my toes to pull the heels off my feet so I don't have to interrupt her movements by bending down. My pants pool at my feet so I slowly step out of them, her kisses on my chest stop at a particular point. Right my scars. 

She looks up from below, wanting to see my reaction as she guides her tongue over the soft scared skin just below my right rib cage. It's more sensitive than the rest of my skin so I shiver at the feeling of her muscle swirling around it letting out a low moan. 

"I do have another big one on my back, just a warning for when you feel the difference in skin." She lightly hums as she walks around to my back. 

Her arms drape over my shoulders, I hear a small gasp -probably her reaction to the scar- but she quickly covers it up by kissing down my shoulders blades to my bra strap. I'm not going to lie, this feels amazing. No one I have been with has taken their time with my body not like this. It's always quick and rough, this is very different, I like it. I feel her arms move from my shoulders to my bra strap as she slowly undoes it, still kissing down my spine along the scar I have there. Once she has made it to the bottom of my back she licks the scar all the way back up as her hands slide the bra off my body. She gently turns me around and I'm met with not just a look of lust but also admiration.

"You're beautiful." She breathes out, barely a whisper. "I want to make you feel good too." 

"We have all night princess." I grab her arms and wrap them around my torso as I slowly guide us back to the bed...I am so looking forward to this.

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[wizardrousactivity]

They Promised. Part IIII

Previously      Next

TW: Mentions of past-childhood trauma for reader (not yet), unwanted pregnancy, pregnancy inaccuracies, angst, mentions of abortion, a silly violence scene, reader is fairly young (early twenties)

Pairings: Ex!König x Reader x Ex!Simon or however you view it!!!

A/N: I’m quite proud of how this story is progressing, I have gotten way better at writing and I hope you can see and enjoy that too! <3 1k words for this chapter

Quite frankly, losing your virginity didn’t feel as electrifying as it did before. Nothing could stop that constant ache of heartbreak in your stomach, churning with guilt - unidentifiable guilt. You couldn’t understand why you felt so queasy about something you didn’t do, you wish it would just go away, to stab away your uterus and anything distinctively you. 

You stare blankly at the ceiling above you, tears beginning to prick at your eyes. They lie beside you, backs turned, a drastic change from when you guys used to hold yourselves close in warm cuddles. The thought of it seems too sweet. 

Sickeningly sweet to you. 

It’s 3:28 AM and you still can’t find yourself asleep from the tantalizing nightmares, waking up sweat-ridden and uneasy. You swallow, noticing how dry your mouth has gone, getting up like a mouse to get to the kitchen. 

The floorboards creak with every step you take, an eerie sound that makes the skin on your back prickle up - it’s award winning horror movie production at this point, a nightmare and then an overly done creepy scene. You scowl at a dark corner, hoping a random ghost would see it and run away. It’s something that would’ve made Ghost laugh at you, but you hate to even acknowledge him now. 

By then you’ve gotten some cold water for your thirst, taking small sips and crunching on the ice - wrapping your hands around your waist, feeling around the fat that has grown there. A natural consequence from your stomach getting so big during pregnancy, the baby coming out a large baby boy. 

You sob, feeling disgusted with yourself again. You need to see yourself in the mirror, is it that bad as it feels - you get up, heading to the bathroom near the kitchen to properly see yourself. 

That’s till you’re yanked into a strange body, you yelp into the stranger’s kiss, their hands gripping your body hungrily. You’re scared, their tongue almost entering your mouth when you don’t even know who they are.

 Their lips are cracked and rough against your own, making you cringe against them. But there’s no room for your judgeful expressions, already being eaten up by them. By this strange monster in your house, a hungry monster - one that’s starved of actual human affection, hands almost leaving bruises from how tightly they’ve dug into you. You scream a little bit, hand pounding itself against their chest to let you go. 

And they do, letting you breathe a bit before you knock yourself against a wall. Your movements are sloppy, tired and you’re scared. They grab you, holding you close to them. That’s when you finally get a good look at who they are. Buzzed hair, rugged-sad expression, abnormally large. You gasp, squirming against their grasp. “Don’t. Please.” He sounds desperate, begging you not to leave him. Again. 

“König! Stop-” He shushes you quickly, almost asserting dominance over you. And it makes you fucking mad.

 “I saw you. I saw you crying when you touched yourself.” König glares down at you, watching you scowl up at him. “Why do you care? You’re the one who left me.” You try pulling away again, but his hand feels like it’s iron-gripped on your wrists. Keeping you locked with him, close with him like never before. 

He goes quiet for a moment, swallowing. “I want to talk to you. Please.” Your faces are about inches away from each other, he looks tired - red tainting his under eyes like he hasn’t slept in days. “You don’t need me anymore König.” 

“You’ve shown me that already.” Your eyes look to the side as if it would be painful to make eye contact with him, and his grip relents. Watching you turn away from him to leave him, leave him alone once again. His knuckles clenched painfully, cheeks tainted in pink from embarrassment in himself. Suddenly you can hear footsteps following behind you, like he has something to counter your retort. 

“I need to talk to you.” Two stomps toward you. “I need to hear you.” You gasp when two hands suddenly pull you in for another kiss, your chests pressing together. But he pauses. “Do you want this?” You tense up, thinking about the consequences afterwards. This doesn’t feel right, none of it feels right. You don’t want him to kiss you, you feel a bit angry if that. 

“König… This doesn’t.. This isn’t right.” He softens, muscles relaxing from the previous adrenaline from you. “Let me go. Please.”

“I just want to do the talking. Don’t kiss or hug me, you know it’s not gonna fix anything.” 

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Pattering rain hits your windows, light from the fireplace illuminating the small spot you were sitting in. 

He’s listening to you, listening to how you ached, what your life became when they left. You’re sitting there trying to suppress your urges to cry, just for the sake of not ruining this environment for you. Or maybe nothing is for you, maybe you’re doing everything just for them. He obviously sees that, and he truly meant it when he said he wanted to hear you - let yourself cry, let everything out please. 

“You broke me.” König’s nodding with his head tilted to the floor beneath him, like an embarrassed or guilty child. Your face scrunches up at the sight, you want to kill him. You don’t think he would stop you if you tried either. 

Each word is like poison on your tongue, he should know how you feel - he should know how it feels to be betrayed by people you thought loved you. How it feels to carry their offspring, unable to afford an abortion. Your fists clench by your sides at the sight of the room turning red, and the sight of König’s body somehow getting closer to you.  

Before you know it you’re landing punches to his jaw. Full of your brute anger that has been stored up for months, he’s letting it happen, grunting underneath you. 

But you want him to scream. 

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 3 - A finite deal

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

third chapter synopsis: After being bitten by a warg, after almost dying, something changed. Something evolved. Things can't stay the same forever. You just didn't imagine they would change so fast. Or that Thranduil was as bad with goodbyes as you. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. lotr kinda of violence. pre-Smaug. a lot of blood.

glossary: Lossëistar: Ice Mage┆Mithrandir: Grey Pilgrim┆Fovren: Fool┆Maenwë: Clever girl┆Pedig edhellen: Do you speak elvish?┆Dôl gîn lost: Your head is empty┆Qenta Eldalien: History of the Elves┆Novaer: Farewell┆Mellon: Friend

Blood seeped into the wooden flooring. It ran down the table legs, dripped from its corners, and gave a new color to the brown floor. The healer’s hands, crushing seeds and heating saps for the ointment, stained everything with a scarlet mark.

In the corner of the room, frozen in time, Thranduil found himself impotent. There was nothing he could do. Nothing but watch. And so he did.

He saw when the healer ripped the arm of your blood-soaked dress. The Elvenking saw your shoulder ligaments. The chewed meat of your arms. The damaged veins. The unconscious tremors. Thranduil saw your lifeless face, your colorless lips, your paralyzed body.

He took you to a healer, but how difficult it is to differentiate it from a slaughterhouse.

Luthien took the warm fabric off your shoulder. She left them aside, holding the bowl with ointment, and poured it onto the bite.

A convulsion gripped your body. The tremors would have knock you off the table if Luthien had not caught you. A pained moan scratched your throat, but your mouth was still closed. Your eyes moved under closed lids. Your fingers writhing in agony did nothing but bruise the skin of your own palm.

“What are you doing to her?” The Elvenking demanded. He seemed to double in size.

She took the needle, dipped it in what was left of the ointment, and sewed it to your skin. With each movement the more you squirmed. “I am saving her, fovren.”

If the Elvenking sought her out, then he must be smart enough not to take offense. Luthien held you in place, sewed you up, cleaned you. When she was done, Luthien wrapped your shoulder in clean bandages.

“When will she wake up?” Thranduil stepped closer. His fingers ghosted over your closed fist, but he could not dare to touch you. He looked at Luthien.

The lack of an answer shivered him.

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Two days are nothing in the life of an elve. Still, such a short amount of time seemed endless for Thranduil. Hours stretched, the next one never approaching. Thranduil remained patient.

Lady Aerin, however, could not afford to be patient. Not anymore. 

She always knew you would wake up. Aerin never doubted that. She knows you are stronger than you look. Not only that: Aerin knows how stubborn you can be. You will die on your own terms. She is certain of that.

What she cannot do is ignore that the Elvenking is still there. Is to lie to herself that in the next hour he will finally get bored and travel back home. Is to pretend not to understand that Thranduil cares.

So Aerin wrote for Gandalf.

She wrote about the Elvenking stay at the inn. About that blasted dam. About that look on his face, how his eyes followed you since the moment he first saw you. Aerin wrote about the attack. About your condition. Your unconsciousness. And when she finally had courage to do so, Aerin wrote about the warg.

Aerin knew where to address the letter. In her office, preparing the bird to carry her message, if only she knew what was happening on the other side of the inn Aerin would have added a few lines to the letter. But she was not there, and the letter flying towards Gandalf missed substantial information: you had finally awakened.

Scared, aching, somehow still tired: but awake. Your eyes took a while to work, to show you the ceiling of your room. You remembered running down an embankment, wheat leaves tickling your arms, a howl. The warg. You understood why you felt a pressure on your shoulder. And why you smelled like blood.

And despite all those hurtful memories, all the pain you were feeling, a smile still made a way into your face. You survived a warg. How many people can say that? You survived. Somehow you always do that. 

The peace of your realization ended when your bedroom door opened.

“Master Elrond will surely be grateful, your grace. He already is,” Gildor whispered. “But this is not your realm. You do not have any obligation with us. Why take the risk?”

Silence took place after his words. When you thought maybe you were alone again, a velvet voice made a way into your ears. “I am becoming kind.”

“Annihilating that nest was kind enough, your grace,” said Gildor.

“It was not,” Thranduil’s tone went lower. His voice was still sharp, a mere choice away from a disguised offense, but it sounded like he was talking to himself more than anything else. “It was about pride. This is about being noble.”

Before you could understand what that conversation was about, Gildor’s surprised gasp shut Thranduil.

“Maenwë,” Thranduil whispered. It felt just like velvet.

“Still do not know that one”, your own voice surprised you. It was tiring, rough, hoarse. So different from your usual playful, light tone.

“Clever.” Thranduil walked across the room, never taking his eyes off yours. Gildor was no more there. The discussion no longer existed. The world could have burned to ashes and the ashes scattered by the wind and he would not have noticed. “It means clever.”

You laughed. Or you tried, since the pain it caused made you cough. What just hurt you more. “Of course it means,” you murmured. “I still have an arm, right?”

“You... You do, maenwë. You do not feel it?” Thranduil somehow remembered that Gildor was there. “Find Luthien.”

You looked at your shoulder again, forcing your other arm to pull the blanket off your torso. Nothing was missing. “Just to be sure,” you responded. You leaned on the bed, trying to sit up.

Thranduil understood your intentions. He touched your arm, cold fingers raising goosebumps on your skin. “Stay,” Thranduil whispered. You had no energy to disagree. “How does it feel?”

“I have been through worse,” you smirked. As your words faded away, the truth escaped. “I thought I was dying.”

“You slept for two days.” You imagined it was his way to say: ‘So did I ’. 

Thranduil’s hands found something on your bedside table. You heard water splashing. His hands returned to your field of vision with a glass of water. “I cannot hold it.”

Thranduil set the glass on the bedside table and moved closer. You could feel his heat. The ghost of his touch still linger on your arm. “Can I?”

Without really understanding what he meant, you nodded.

Thranduil lowered the blanket to your waist. You felt his hand slide across the mattress and fit behind your back. His palm heated your sore skin. You lifted your head when he tried to place his other hand beneath it. Calmly, very carefully, Thranduil helped you to sit down.

“Your skin is so warm,” the Elvenking murmured. He touched your forehead, his contact lasted for a few seconds. “But not feverish.”

You sighed. Everything aches. Every single part of your body. But when Thranduil touched you… It felt a little bit better. Just a little bit.

Then he grabbed the glass and brought it close to your face. You could feel your body heating. Be helped to drink a glass of water. There was something so sweet about it. To help someone conclude such a simple, mundane task. And to do it simply because you are close enough to.

The world is a horrible place. So ill-formulated, uneven, indifferent. It is a place filled with horrible creatures, corrupted humans, malevolent diseases. It is a place where an inevitable darkness hides in the light, where evil deceives the good, where innocent lives perish simply because the world moves on.

But the world is also the only place where you can smell the rain. Where you can eat sweet strawberries. Where you can feel leaves tickling your skin. Where you can dance. Where you can quench the thirst of those who need help.

You leaned in, extinguishing the distance, silently allowing him to help you. Allowing a king to serve you.

“Thank you, your grace” you whispered.

“You should not thank me,” Thranduil’s words made you blink. “I hope one day you can forgive me, maenwë. You gave me your trust, and I was not able to defend you.”

You chuckle. It burned your throat, but you were getting used to the pain. “I am pretty sure you killed a warg.”

“Not before it could bite you.”

Thranduil blamed himself. He blames himself for not being able to protect you, someone he knew for a few days. Not even a week has passed since you both first met. ‘You slept for two days.’ Did he really thought you would die?

A king is apologizing to you. Thranduil killed a warg, found someone to heal you, but for him it was still not enough. You wonder if  you would feel the same in his place.

 “Teach me elvish,” you said.

“What?”

“Teach me elvish and I shall forgive you.” With a lot of effort, you were able to move your good arm and reach out to him. You heard steps from the hallway, people were coming to see you. “And a new dress. I have a personal preference for violet.”

Thranduil stared at your hand. He heard no anger in your voice. Not an ounce of regret or hate.

He held your hand. “Deal.”

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Your routine for the next few days was simple. Someone brings you food when it is time to, Aerin helps you with your bath, Luthien examines you every morning.

You knew Luthien before, but never really stopped to talk to her. Now, without further choice, you discovered that she is a great healer and the best at gossip.

And for the rest of the day you do nothing on your bed. You cannot read, as your head throbs still. And since walking requires a gigantic effort, looking out for someone to talk to is not a option.

Except for the nights.

“Pedig,” repeated Thranduil. This time he slowed down. “Edhellen .”

Sitting in an armchair in front of your bed, Thranduil had two books in his hand. Reading from one of them, his velvet voice never was so treacherous. It is harder to understand his accent than from the elves of Rivendell.

You took a deep breath. “Pedi edellen.”

“One more time,” the Elvenking encouraged you. “Pedig edhellen.”

Your face was already burning. It was so embarrassing to barely learn a language in front of someone. A few people have tried to teach you elvish, but you never stood still for long enough. “Pedig… edhellen.”

“I knew you had it in you,” Thranduil’s words were sweet, but you saw his smile turn into a smirk. Thranduil was amused by your difficulty.

“Do not mock me. What does it mean?”

“‘Do you speak Elvish?’” Thranduil could not contain his playful smile.

Those teaching sessions were already routine. Thranduil comes after dinner, and stays until one of you wants to sleep. He usually is the one to say goodbye. There is a sense of freedom that comes at night that no one wants to let go. So, even when you are tired, you try not to show it. Just so it can last a little longer.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes. “Teach me how to swear.” 

Thranduil closed the book, the dry thud embarrassed you. “Maenwë,” there it was. The strong accent. It fades when he speaks in common, but it shines again whenever he gets back into his native language. “What will people think?”

You straightened the pillows behind you and clasped your hands in your lap. “Indulge me.”

“As you wish,” Thranduil sighed, but you knew he was entertained. “Dôl gîn lost.”

“Dôl gîn lost”, you repeated.

Thranduil stands up and moves towards your bed. “At the first try,” that made you smirk. “What does that say about you, maenwë?”

You pouted. “That I have a natural talent for linguistics?”

Thranduil held one of the books out to you. “There is a chance.”

It was heavy, old, you could smell the aged pages. Leafing through it, you saw elvish in golden handwriting. But you also saw your own language on it. On every couple of pages there was different engraving, all so beautiful. You sniffed it.

 “Try reading this once a day,” he told you. “It is a collection of myths.”

You slid your finger across one of the drawings that caught your eye. Even on dry pages the blond hair is still so alive. “Qenta Eldalien.”

That surprised Thranduil. History of the elves. A natural talent perhaps.

“You forgot to tell me,” you shouted when you noticed that he was leaving. Thranduil held the doorknob and turned to you. “What does that mean? Dôl gîn lost?”

“Your head is empty,” Thranduil smirked. You sighed. “Sleep well, maenwë.”

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Warm water trickled down your body. Aerin dipped the sponge in the water before running it over your skin. She ran that soft sponge over your back.

Things were not normal. The bite scar on your shoulder would never go away. The pain when stretching your arm would last forever. The time spent in bed would never be recovered. You are not back to normal, but it is a good thing.

Fear that nothing will survive. Fear that something will. Change is terror, change is craving. Part of you wish nothing bad had ever happened to you. The other smiles when waking up every morning. You survived. Nothing will change that.

Watching the golden leaves falling through the cracked window, you had a new experience. Without realizing, you open your mouth and a melody comes out.

Back in your room, wrapped in a warm towel, you noticed something new. A fabric stretched over it. Violet. So thin it felt like holding flour. So soft. You almost felt bad for touching it, for being unable to keep it pure as it is now.

When you asked for a dress, you thought Thranduil would get you something like the one damaged by the warg. Neutral, of resistant fabric, for those who need to walk and to work. The kind of dress that the wearer does not care if it gets dirty.

This is not a dress for someone that works with horses. For someone that gets muddy. For someone that runs, that likes the feeling of almost falling, that often passes through trees and animals. This is not a dress made for someone like you.

You wore it without thinking twice.

“You were singing”, Aerin sat on your bed.

You admired yourself in the mirror. “Was I?” You caressed the fabric. So soft.

“I never heard you singing before.” Aerin stared at all the fine fabrics together over your body. “And I know you for almost a year.”

“Fourteen months,” you corrected her. You never did something like that before.

“Oh.”

You said nothing while getting dressed. You have never done anything like this before. To correct her. Never. When you turned towards Aerin, choosing between pretending that nothing happened or apologizing, you realized she had left you alone.

You were unsure of what to do. You went through the inn, walking without purpose. Feeling suddenly alone, you walked out of the inn to see the horses again.

You just did not imagined that everyone wanted to do the same. All the elves who came from Mirkwood were out there with their mounts. Within seconds, your surprise turned into realization. They wore their armor. This was no coincidence. They were leaving.

You ran to the stable, trying not to be trampled by horses, searching for him. There you saw the gigantic elk. And you saw Thranduil mounting it.

“You are leaving?” Your breath was a mess. “You did not even said goodbye.”

Thranduil hoped you were still sleeping. Or that you were busy not to noticed the noisy from outside the inn. How he hoped he would never see you again.

He did not wished for a last memory. For a goodbye. Thranduil feared the sour taste in his mouth. He wanted to go remembering you swearing in a language you do not really understand. Thranduil wanted to spend his days imagining if you liked the dress, not to see you in it. To see your braided hair.

Now how will he forget this?

Thranduil cannot stay. Thranduil should have went back to Greenwood a week ago. Thranduil has responsibilities, lifes to care about, a realm to rule. He should not be here. Thranduil may not know a lot, but he knows when it is time to go. “It is good to see you well, maenwë.” 

You blinked. That is all he had to say? You tucked your hair behind your ear. “You did not say goodbye,” you repeat yourself.

“I thought you were sleeping,” he lied. Guiding his elk, Thranduil passed through you. He looked away first. “Goodbye, maenwë. Farewell.”

That is all he had to say. Goodbye. Farewell. You watched him, so aware of how you must look. A pretty braid, a fancy dress, a cruel deception. That is how a fool is supposed to look? And all he had to say was goodbye.

You walked. Ran. Outside the stable, you saw him organizing the small army. You walked up to him, not caring if he was speaking. If he wants to pretend that is enough, if for him it is enough, then Thranduil can live with that. But it is not enough for you. 

If he is going to leave, if you will never see each other again, let it be done correctly. “Novaer,” you licked your lips. Farewell. You hesitated, searching for the right word. “Mellon.” Friend.

Embarrassed, you turned back to the inn. You walked towards it, aware he would see if you runned. By the time you locked yourself in your room tears streamed down your face. Hidden behind the curtains, you watched him go.

Thranduil did not looked back. Or else he would not be able to go forward. That night, you slept hugging your new book. That night, Thranduil slept thinking about how you could not say mellon correctly even if your life depended on it.

[Forth Chapter]

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