#i can do a shorter summary and/or clarify anything from this

[slut4thebroken]

Practice Makes Perfect

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | stepdad!Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | You go to your stepdad for help… with very pure intentions… obviously. (Heheh)

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, innocence kink, corruption, large age gap, but not under age, hand jobs, oral both m and f receiving, spanking, daddy kink technically, also incest I guess?, groping, thigh riding, praise, a sprinkle of degradation and humiliation.

Words | 7.5 k

Notes | I hope it was worth the wait folks. Also ionno how I feel about this gif but whatever lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

You liked making men crave what they could never have, that’s why you dress the way you do. But it seemed like the one man you actually wanted to crave you, never did. Much to your disappointment. 

But you liked doing it in a subtle way, where at first glance, it wouldn’t seem like your goal was to get his attention. You’d wear loose, frilly skirts, always on the shorter side, but not short enough to be too obvious, and tight crop tops that were somewhat see-through. You also liked wearing pretty dresses and knee high socks and dainty jewelry and soft makeup. All of which at first glance would just seem like a cute, unintentionally sexy— yet still in an innocent way somehow— outfit. 

Nothing you ever did caught his eye though. Sometimes you’d forego the bra all together so that your nipples were just barely poking through the thin fabric of your top, but you still didn't get a reaction. So you decided to step it up. 

“Mr. Rippner?” You asked quietly, making him look up from the computer screen as you hesitantly walked in. 

“How many times have I told you to call me Jackson.” He said teasingly.  

“Sorry…” You couldn’t help the blush that painted your cheeks when he gave you a soft smile. 

“What's up?” 

“I can come back later if you’re busy…”

“Never too busy for you. Come sit.” He clicked a few buttons on the computer then gave you his full attention. You dragged one of the arm chairs a little closer to his desk, then sat down. 

“I just… had a question— questions. But I’m scared to ask my mom.” You said quietly, nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt. 

“Scared?” 

“I don’t want her to see me any differently… and I’m scared that asking this might do that.” 

“You can talk to me.” His tone was so genuine that it made you want to tell him anything and everything about yourself, even your deepest secrets. His warm smile wasn’t helping much either. 

“Thank you… So, um— there’s this guy that I like..” He just barely stiffened when you said that. “He’s older,”

“How much older?” 

“A little more than twenty years…” 

“He’s in his forties?” 

“Early fourties, yes.” You said quietly, not able to maintain eye contact any longer. You couldn’t figure out what emotion was on his face right now. “But I really really like him, Mr. Rippner, and he treats me right.” 

“Any man going after you who’s that old will not treat you right.” 

“Oh…” You kept your eyes on your lap as your chest ached. Even though this wasn’t a direct rejection it still hurt. “Sorry.” 

“Hey— no, I'm sorry.” His tone was noticeably softer. “I just worry about you, kiddo.” Your whole face heated up at the name, as it always does. “I'm sorry. If you still want to talk, I'm here for you.” 

“Thanks…” When he didn’t say anything, you took that as your cue to continue. “I- I’ve been having.. bad thoughts about him, Mr. Rippner. And I know that it’s wrong, but I just can’t help it. I don’t even really know what he’s making me feel, just that it makes me feel dirty…” His cheek tensed as he clenched his jaw.  

“Inappropriate thoughts, you mean?” He clarified and you nodded in response. “I see. And before I respond, what exactly is it that you’re asking me?” 

“I- I want to impress him… but I’ve never done.. anything. I’m scared I’ll make a fool of myself, so I was hoping… you could help me?”

“Help you?” He choked out. You nodded and bit your lip. “Let me just make sure I’m hearing this right. You want to fuck a man twice your age,” you blushed at his crude words, “but you’re nervous about it… so you’re asking your step father, who’s also twice your age, to help you practice so you feel more confident?” 

“I’m sorry, this was stupid.” You muttered as you got to your feet. 

“Sit down.” His voice was technically still soft, but you could hear the underlying sternness in his tone, so you lowered yourself back down in the chair. “Why me?” 

“I just… I trust you a lot, Mr. Rippner— more than most. I know you’d never do anything to take advantage of me.” You said, even though you hoped he would. 

“And what about your mom?” That made you frown. 

“I didn’t mean it in a cheating way. Just for you to show me what to do— to teach me. That’s not cheating.” 

“Sweetheart…” He started, making your frown deepen. “You understand why this would be wrong other than that, right?” 

“…No.” You did. 

“Not even talking about the fact that I'm twice your age— I’m your step father. This is not something that step fathers teach their step daughters.” He explained gently. 

“Oh.. I guess you don’t have to, then. I can just… ask him to teach me or something.” 

“Absolutely not.” He said sternly, startling you. “Telling him that will practically give him the green light to manipulate and coerce you.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” You frowned. 

“Yes he would. Every man would.” 

“Clearly not every man.” You muttered. 

“Look,” he sighed, “I do want to help you, kiddo, but it’s more complicated than that.” 

“It doesn’t have to be..” 

“But it is.” 

“Are you not attracted to me?” You asked suddenly. “Is that why?” He sighed again and looked away from you, making your stomach churn. “Oh.” You felt like you were about to cry any minute now— this is not going how it was supposed to at all. You felt stupid and embarrassed and you wished you never came in here. 

“I…” he sighed, “It's not that. I shouldn’t be attracted to you, honey. It’s wrong.”

“…But you are?” He said ‘shouldn’t’ so maybe that’s a good sign. 

“It’s doesn’t matter if I am,” 

“I’m attracted to you, Mr. Rippner.” You said quietly, waiting nervously for his reaction. “It doesn’t feel wrong.” He let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes as his head tilted back a little. You watched him carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. When he suddenly leaned back up and opened his eyes, they were significantly darker, the pretty, pale blue almost gone now. “Mr. Rippner?” You asked when he didn’t say anything. 

“I’m not going to show you, but I’ll tell you. How does that sound?” You frowned and looked away. 

“Okay… If you think that’s best, I trust you.” You said, silently praying for him to do more than talk to you. 

“Let’s just start off with you telling me what you do know.” 

“Um… Well, I’ve seen people kiss.. and I’ve tried to practice, but it feels awkward and I don’t want it to be weird when it happens.” 

“You never kissed anyone?” His eyebrows were raised as he stared at you in poorly concealed surprise. 

“…No.” You said, voice small. 

“Okay,” he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, “okay. What else?” 

“I mean… I think I mostly know how the rest of it goes? The part where.. I don’t really do much. It’s the other parts that I don’t know.” 

“You mean foreplay?” You nodded with a blush. “And you know how to practice safe sex, right?” 

“A condom?” 

“That’s the most common way, yes.” He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy breath. “Okay. I think I can help you out with some of it, but the rest you might just need to practice on your own. 

“But I have!” Your blush deepened when you realized what you just implied. 

“You have?”

“I- I mean.. I just— It…” Nothing you could say would save you. 

“Dirty girl… Do you have a toy hidden somewhere?” He said teasingly and you didn’t know how to respond, not when the real answer is so much more embarrassing and perverted. 

“Something like that..” He examined you carefully, making you feel like he was uncovering every secret you've ever had. 

“Oh I see.” He chuckled. “Creative little minx, aren’t you? What’d you use?” You looked down and bit your lip, feeling far too embarrassed right now. “Hairbrush handle? Cucumber?” 

“Stop teasing me, Mr. Rippner.” You pouted and he gave you a small smile.

“I’ll stop teasing once you stop calling me that.” When your gaze stayed on your lap, he continued. “Where'd you use it? Your mouth or your cunt?” Your head snapped up with a gasp at his vulgar language. 

“Mr. Rippner!” You scolded him, but your cheeks were far too red to uphold the sternness of your reprimand.

“It’s just a simple question, kiddo. You’re going to have to get used to those words if you want my help. I can’t really explain it without saying it.” 

“I- I know. It just caught me off guard is all and um… mouth.” You muttered, not able to maintain eye contact. “But I couldn't do it, it was too hard.” 

“What’d you try to do, sweetheart?”

“I dunno… just— anything that I thought might be right. I didn’t really know what to do.” You looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Need someone to teach me…” 

“You know that I can’t.” He said softly. 

“But how else am I supposed to learn? Why can’t you just help me?” You pouted, making him sigh. 

“I am helping you.” 

“But….” You were going to beg again, but so far that’s gotten you nowhere, so you decided to try something else. “Fine— I’ll just find someone else!” You said, standing up and turning around to walk out. 

“Sit down. I won’t tell you again.” He said sternly, making you freeze, but not turn around yet. 

“Mr. Rippner…” You finally turned back to face him, but you couldn’t look at him, “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day,”

“You really don’t want me to tell you again.” He warned and for the first time, you felt a little afraid of him. It was flustered fear, but fear nonetheless. You slowly walked back over and sat down again. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to help you, but you’re not going to tell anyone. Especially your mother. Do you understand?” You couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on your face as you nodded. 

“Come here.” You got back up and walked around the desk, waiting awkwardly for the next instruction. “On your knees.” Your stomach fluttered and you could feel the ache between your legs that you usually get when you’re near him. Slowly lowering yourself to the ground, you placed your hands on your lap and looked up at him as he rolled his chair back and faced you. 

“Do whatever you think is right. I’ll stop you or tell you what to do if you need help.” Even though that made you nervous because there was a higher chance you’d embarrass yourself, you agreed. 

Shuffling forward, you settled between his legs and reached for his belt. The bulge in his pants was already making your mouth water and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. His breath hitched when you accidentally brushed his crotch, but he let you continue until his pants were open enough for you to pull them down a little and reach inside to take out his length. 

You gasped at the size of him and stared at it with wide eyes and slightly parted lips— how is this ever going to fit.. anywhere inside you when it barely fits in your hand? He brushed your hair out of your face and you swallowed thickly as you forced your eyes away from his length to look up at him. 

“Y-you’re… Are they all this big?” You asked nervously, making him chuckle quietly. 

“Not all, but I’m only a little above average.” 

“Oh.” So the average is only a little smaller? That didn’t ease your nerves at all. 

“Just take it slow, kiddo. Don’t rush into it, go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” You were struggling to get yourself to follow the soft demand because of how badly you wanted to impress him. “Start with your hand.” You nodded and swallowed down the lump in your throat as you reached for his length. Tentatively grasping it in your hand, you stroked him slowly, looking up at him for confirmation. “A little harder, love.” You squeezed harder, but immediately pulled back when he winced. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“That’s okay. Here,” he took your hand in his and wrapped it around his cock, moving it slowly. “Like this, okay?” When you nodded, he let go for you to continue on your own. You noticed that his limited reactions seemed to mostly happen when you were at the tip, so you focused on that, rubbing your thumb over the bead of clear liquid on top, making him curse under his breath. 

“You know what that is?” He asked, almost breathlessly. 

“…Precum?” You were terrified of embarrassing yourself by saying the wrong thing, but you vaguely remembered learning that somewhere. 

“That’s right.. good girl. Have a taste.” With a blush from the praise, you tentatively brought your hand up and sucked your thumb into your mouth. “Do you like it?”

“I think so. It’s… watery but a little sweet almost?” He laughed quietly and you gave him a small smile. 

“Keep going.” You started stroking him again, keeping the pace a little slow as you got used to it. “Do you want to try using your mouth now?” You looked up at him nervously, but nodded anyway. “Okay, just suck on the tip while you keep stroking it.” You shuffled forward even closer and placed your free hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you leaned up a little. When you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, he let out a shaky breath and put his hand on top of yours on his thigh. 

“Suck it and flick your tongue over it,” you obeyed and he let out a low moan, “there you go… Keep using your hand.” You hadn’t even realized you stopped stroking him until he mentioned it. 

“Atta girl. You’re a natural, kiddo.” You couldn’t help the whimper that slipped out at the praise, even if he was just teasing you. You continued stroking his length while mouthing at the tip, not sure what to do next. Thankfully he seemed ready to help you with that. 

“You want to draw it out a little so how about you practice kissing, hm?” You perked up at the thought of finally being able to kiss him, but almost pouted when you realized he didn’t mean on his lips. You gave the tip and quick kiss, then looked up at him, asking a silent question of what to do. “Kiss all over it, sweetheart.” You obeyed, working your way down the underside of his cock. “Good girl. Keep going down.” You were quickly reaching the base and you looked up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t think you were just going to suck my cock, did you?” He chuckled, making you frown. You did think that… What else would you suck? “Start with kissing and licking my balls.” That made you pull back as your eyes widened. 

“Your— But… Is that,” 

“You’re not going to impress any man with a mediocre blow job. I’m trying to help you, baby.” You didn’t know that was a thing you had to do… and for some reason it felt dirtier than everything you’ve done so far. He picked up on your apprehension and his teasing smirk dropped into a more serious expression. 

“Hey, we don’t have to.” He said softly, genuinely. “The second you change your mind, we’re done, no questions asked. I can make you some hot chocolate and put on that movie you like and we don’t have to mention this ever again.” 

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat as your gaze shifted between his eyes and his cock. “Can we still do all of that after we do this?” You asked timidly, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile as he reached out to pet your hair. 

“Of course we can, kiddo. I’m pretty much done with work for the day so I’m all yours until it’s your bedtime.” You flushed at the mention of the silly rule he was so adamant about implementing. You told him that you’re an adult and adults don’t have bedtimes and he said that he just wants what’s best for you and that getting a good night's sleep is one of the best things you could do to take care of yourself. You didn’t protest again after that— mostly just because you liked the idea of him having that power over you. 

“Since it’s Friday… could we maybe.. extend my bedtime?” You asked coyly, staring up at him with wide pleading eyes. He raised his brows as he looked down at you for a moment before letting out a breathy laugh and looking away. 

“You’re getting too spoiled. I might as well start calling you princess.” He said with a sly smile, making you blush. 

“If I’m your princess, does that make you my daddy?” You asked innocently, making his breath catch in his throat, but he recovered quickly and decided to tease you a little. 

“Now where did you learn something like that?” Your blush intensified and you couldn’t maintain eye contact any longer. 

“Heard some classmates talking about it…” 

“Aren’t you a nosy little thing? But no kiddo, that doesn’t make me your daddy. I’m still just plain old stepdad Jackson.” He said with a small shrug. 

“But… if I want you to be?” You asked nervously. He let out a heavy breath that turned into a quiet chuckle. 

“If you want me to be… Then, we'll do a trial run tonight, how does that sound?”  

“Good. Thank you, daddy.” You decided to try it out immediately and it was strange how natural the word fell from your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his cock twitch. 

“Okay, princess. You do a good job and I’ll reward you by pushing your bedtime back an hour.” That made your face light up, but you were feeling bold right now. 

“…Two?” 

“Thirty minutes?” He asked, in the same tone as you, making you pout and accept his original offer of one hour. “Pick up where you left off.” He spread his legs to give you more room to shuffle forward and lean your face close to his length, but instead of aiming for his cock, you went lower. You did as he instructed, kissing and licking them gently. It felt dirty and wrong doing this, but somehow, at the same time, like the most fulfilling thing you've ever done. 

“Now suck one into your mouth.” The second your lips wrapped around one, he cursed under his breath and let out a sigh of pleasure, but it quickly turned into a wince, making you pull back instantly. “Gotta be gentler, honey.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” You rushed out, face flushing with shame, and he shushed you. 

“It’s okay. Just do it a little softer.” You hesitantly leaned forward to try once again, now much more apprehensive this time. “There you go…” He cooed, “Few more seconds, then do the same to the other one. Don’t forget to use your hand on my cock while you do this.” You blushed at the crude words but wrapped a hand around his length again to start pumping slowly before releasing him with a loud pop and moving to the other one. His sounds gave you confidence and you flicked your tongue as you sucked, then pulled back to keep licking and kissing while you stroked him. It was hard to multitask though with how overwhelmed you were getting from his scent and his hand holding yours on his thigh and just his closeness. 

You tried not to get too embarrassed when your spit kept building up until it was covering your lips and chin, making you feel even dirtier. But you realized that you like how it feels. You like feeling filthy as you make him feel good. 

You kept mouthing at his balls, occasionally sucking on them, and he placed his free hand on your head, stroking your hair. 

“Fuck… Look at you— Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” He asked teasingly, not giving you a chance to reply before speaking again. “There’s no way this mouth belongs to my innocent little girl.” You blushed, feeling shy at the compliment. 

“Daddy…” You whined against him, never stopping the movement of your hand or mouth. 

“It’s okay, kiddo. You just keep sucking on my balls and stroking my cock. Don’t need to do anything else.” You whimpered and squirmed at his feet, quickly growing uncomfortable with the weird feeling between your legs. 

“Daddy, it hurts.” You didn’t want to disobey him by stopping right after he told you to keep going, so you barely pulled back enough to get the words out. 

“What hurts?” You whined quietly and pressed your thighs together. His gaze traveled down your body curiously. “Your cunt?” You mewled and blushed at the vulgar word, but nodded in agreement. 

“You’re a proper whore, aren’t you?” He chuckled, making you frown and pull back. 

“No…” 

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, baby. If sucking balls is what gets you off, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Stop making fun of me.” You pouted, making him smile. “And ‘m not a whore.” 

“Of course you’re not a whore, princess. You’re my whore.” Your entire face heated up and the ache between your legs got infinitely worse. “Isn’t that right?” You whined quietly and he chuckled. 

“Y-yes…” You whispered. “Yours.” 

“My what?” Your expression turned into a pout and you averted your gaze. “Hm?”

“Your— your whore.” You choked out as tears welled in your eyes from the humiliation of it all.  

“Good girl. Keep going.” 

“But,” He gave you a warning look so you ignored the fire in your belly and leaned back in. Your hand picked up again as you tried new things with your mouth on his balls, making sure to repeat the ones that drew any sounds from him. There was even more saliva now and you could feel some of it dripping down your neck to your chest.

“Go a little lower now.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, trying to pull back, but he used the hand on your head to hold you there. “Relax, kiddo. Just a little bit.” He explained, but you were still apprehensive. He pushed you down until your chin hit the chair then pulled you closer, burying your nose into his balls and holding you there. 

“Lick.” He demanded, but you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be licking. Since you weren’t able to question him, you just stuck your tongue out and moved it as best you could with how close he was holding you to his body. “There you fucking go.” He groaned, bucking his hips against your face. 

“So fuckin’ filthy.” He said through a breath. Despite the degrading words he used, his tone was full of admiration and pride. “Covered in your own spit as you lick my taint.” He chuckled, voice a little darker now. “Work your way back up slowly.” He lessened the pressure on your head and you gave one last lick before moving up to his balls, mouthing at them for a few seconds, then kissing up his length until you reached the tip. You pulled back and looked up at him, waiting for the next instruction eagerly. 

“…I’m on the fence about teaching you this.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“What is it?”

“It’s not necessary for a good blow job, you can leave a guy plenty satisfied with what I’ve taught you so far, but this just makes it even better.” You wanted to make him feel even better so there wasn’t any doubt in your mind. 

“Please teach me?” You asked, even though you still weren’t really sure what he was talking about. 

“Are you sure?”

“Please, daddy.” You whined. 

“Okay, princess. Hands off.” You let go of his cock and placed your hand on his thigh. “Open.” Your mouth fell open and he adjusted so he was gripping your hair, then slowly lowered you onto him. 

“First I want you to show me how far down you can take it.” He kept his grip on your hair, but let you move freely. Slowly forcing yourself down, you looked up at him for a moment before taking a deep breath through your nose and closing your eyes to concentrate. This is what you’re not good at. You kept going down until he brushed the back of your mouth. When you tried to move down even more, you gagged and had to pull off. 

“Good girl. Almost halfway.” You all but beamed at the praise. “I’m going to try holding you there. Pinch my thigh if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded and he gave you a small smile. “Take a deep breath.” You inhaled and let your mouth fall open, waiting for him to guide you down onto his cock. He pushed your head slowly until he reached the back of your mouth, then held you still. You were fine for a few seconds as you breathed heavily through your nose and focused on suppressing your gag reflex, but once it started, you couldn’t stop it and you had to pinch his thigh. 

“That was good, kiddo. You’re already getting better. Just try to keep your mouth open wider so your teeth aren’t touching it, okay?” 

“Okay. Sorry…” You looked away, feeling embarrassed. You didn’t know how you were supposed to open your mouth any wider when your jaw was already starting to ache because of his size. 

“Don’t apologize. You’re learning, you’re bound to make a mistake or two.” He said, easing your nerves. 

“Can I try again?” 

“Whenever you’re ready.” You sank down on his cock voluntarily this time and took deep breaths through your nose as he held you there. You didn’t want to gag, but you could feel it coming anyway. When it happened, you squeezed his thighs to keep yourself from pinching him, wanting to hold out a little longer. He shushed you and used a hand to pet your head while the other held you down as your body instinctively tried to pull up. 

“Good girl. See if you can control it.” You squeezed your eyes shut with a strangled whimper and tried to breathe slowly. “That’s it… I'm going to pull you up a little so you can take a breath.” He lifted you only an inch or so up and you heaved in a shaky breath before he pushed you back down. You weren’t expecting him to actually only let you take a single breath, so you gagged again the second he hit the back of your mouth. This time though, you gagged hard enough to make you feel like you could throw up if it happened just one more time so you pinched him and he pulled you off. 

A string of saliva connected your lips to his cock and you panted heavily, trying to catch your breath and push down the nausea. 

“I’m so proud of you, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.” It didn’t feel like you were doing amazing, but you blushed at the compliment anyway. 

“Thank you.” You rasped, giving him a small smile. He cupped your cheek, rubbing the saliva on your lips around a little as he returned the expression. 

“Keep this up and I might consider pushing your bedtime back two hours instead.” Your face lit up at that and he laughed under his breath. 

“Really?” 

“You deserve it.” You smiled and his thumb swiped over your lips again, so you took it into your mouth and sucked lightly. “Christ— You’re going to kill me, baby.” He groaned, making you blush. “Do you think you can try something a little harder now?” 

“I think so.” You said quietly, after reluctantly pulling away from his thumb to speak. 

“I’m going to push you down farther, okay? You’ll probably gag, but I know you can take it.” He pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a reassuring smile. You nodded and moved closer to his length, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to push you down. He did it slowly and stopped once he reached the back of your mouth. Placing both hands on the back of your head, he applied more pressure, but did it quickly. You gagged instantly, but it cut off into a garbled whimper when he breached your throat barrier and pushed you all the way down until your nose was buried in his pelvis and your chin was resting on his balls. 

“Fuck— good fucking girl.” He said through a moan. You tried to stay there despite the intense need to gag, but it was quickly becoming too much. “You feel incredible, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, hearing him curse under his breath as you choked. When you couldn’t take it anymore, you pinched his thigh and he hesitated for a second before letting you pull off. He stroked your hair as you coughed and tried to catch your breath. You looked up at him through teary eyes and his other hand moved to cup your cheek and brush his thumb over your lips that were slick with even more saliva now. 

“How you holding up?” He asked softly and you cleared your throat before responding. 

“Good I think..” 

“Do you want to stop?” Kind of… but at the same time you wanted more. More of this— more of him. 

“No- no… I want to keep going.”

“Don’t just say that because you think it’s what I want to hear,”

“‘m not. Wanna keep going.” You whined. 

“Do you want to keep doing this or go back to what you were doing before?” He seemed to like this the most and you wanted to practice so you could get better for him. So even though your throat was already sore, you said yes. 

“This.” 

“Okay, baby. Whenever you’re ready.” You cleared your throat again and tried to even out your breathing before wrapping your lips around the tip again, waiting for him to push you back down. He moved you slowly until he reached the back of your mouth and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. 

Even though you were anticipating it, you still gagged when he applied more pressure, and then choked when he finally entered your throat. You were coughing and sputtering around him, each time forcing more spit out of your mouth, making your face heat up when you felt more of it roll down your neck to your chest. 

“That’s it… Good girl.” The moan that escaped you because of his praise sounded more like a garbled, incoherent sound rather than anything else. “Fuck— I’m gonna come, baby.” He groaned, making your stomach flutter. 

You wanted nothing more than to pull off so you could breathe and cough, but you wanted to let him finish. So you squeezed his thighs hard enough to make him wince and his hips flinched up, burying his cock even deeper. 

“When I pull out, keep your mouth open.” He rushed out and you could only make a strangled sound in return. His hips were rutting up into your mouth now as he kept a tight grip on your head, not letting you move when your body reflexively tried to pull away. He cursed under his breath, then let out a loud groan, and you felt heat in your throat until he pulled out. You coughed, but tried to keep your mouth open as he stroked his cock in front of you, making more come land on your tongue and around your lips. When his sounds quieted and his hand slowed to a stop, he stared down at you as he panted. 

“Swallow.” He demanded softly. You reluctantly closed your mouth and swallowed, then he swiped up the come that landed on your face and put it on your tongue for you to swallow as well. 

You tried not to let it show in your expression, but you weren’t expecting it to taste like that at all and it caught you off guard. Especially because you were expecting more of the sweet taste that the precum had. 

“Everyone tastes like that?” You asked quietly, making him chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t really know, sweetheart, but I would assume so.” He wiped your tears and the spit from your chin and your stomach fluttered again at the soft, simple action. “You did such a good job. I’m so proud, kiddo.” Your whole face flushed at the compliment, but you didn’t understand why he said it since it didn’t seem like you improved much. 

“Thank you..” You said anyway, making the corners of his lips turn up into a small smile. 

“Get up here, princess.” You immediately got giddy at the thought of being so close to him and you eagerly climbed onto the chair and straddled his legs, putting your hands on his shoulders. He rubbed up and down your thighs slowly, teasing you. 

“Do you think you’ve learned enough?” You tried not to frown at the thought of this ending so soon. 

“No…” You muttered, looking down. 

“No? What else can I teach you, baby?” He chuckled. You knew his question was rhetorical, but you answered anyway. 

“I- I don’t know how to… touch myself.” You said with a blush and his eyes widened a little. 

“You don’t touch yourself?” He asked through a breath, almost completely frozen. 

“I’ve tried… I just end up feeling awkward and dumb so I stop. But I need you, daddy, it hurts. Make it go away.” You whined, giving him puppy dog eyes and a frown. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on your thighs. 

“Fuck— fuck, okay. I’ll teach you, but after that, no more.” 

“Okay.” You agreed, even though you knew you were going to be begging him to keep going when he decided to stop. He took a deep breath and you waited anxiously for him to do something. 

“You have to start slow, build up to it. Women are different from men, they need more than we do to get started.” His hands dragged up your thighs— over your skirt— to your hips, then up your waist, and sadly back down again. 

“Don’t wanna start slow.” You whined, squirming in his lap. 

“You told me to teach you and that’s what I’m doing, princess.” You huffed and looked away from him with a pout. When he suddenly grabbed your cheeks in one hand, then turned you back to face him and pulled you closer, your breath caught in your throat. 

“I don’t want any attitude from you when I’m the one doing you a favor.” He said lowly, but you were distracted by his breath fanning your lips and his grip on your face. “I control how fast or slow we go. Do you understand?” There was that fear again, only this time you subconsciously tried to grind against him. 

“Y-yes.” You whispered, staring at him with wide eyes, getting needier and needier. “Please,” You whined, squirming again, but stopping when his hand moved down to your throat. 

“What did I just say?” He gritted. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry— But I can’t take this anymore, it’s torture!” You cried. He stared at you with a dark look that made you nervous and you waited anxiously for what was next. 

“Fine. Up.”

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off then he roughly grabbed your hips and lifted you to your feet. He didn’t even give you a demand before pulling you forward by your hips so that your legs were on either side of one of his. You gasped when he pulled you down and reached for his shoulders to steady yourself. “Grind on my thigh.” 

“W-what?” You choked out, eyes widening even more. 

“If you want to act like a bitch in heat, that’s how you’ll be treated. Hump my fucking thigh or we’re done for tonight.” He menaced, making your whole face heat up. You’ve never heard such degrading words before, especially not aimed at you, and even though you were probably supposed to be upset that he basically just called you a dog… you started moving your hips anyway. 

“You need to learn,” he landed a hard smack on your ass, making you cry out and tighten your grip on his shoulders, “when to fucking listen.” Another spank, this time on your other cheek. “I didn’t have to let you suck my cock, but I did…” When he hit you again, you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “I didn’t have to teach you how to deep throat,” you let out a choked sob when he hit you again, the hardest so far, “but I did.” He growled, spanking you twice in quick succession. 

“I’m sorry!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Look at the fucking mess you’re making.” He roughly fisted your hair and forced your head down so you could see the damp spot on his pants where you were grinding. You whined, getting so overwhelmed with the feeling between your legs and his words and his hands and just him. 

“Get the fuck up.” He suddenly said, making your heart drop. Was he going to leave you like this? All needy and achy?

“Daddy, ‘m sorry.” You whimpered, staring at him with puppy dogs eyes and a pout. In response, he just lifted you off of him by your hips and stood up. You protested with a whine, but it cut off when he pushed you in front of the desk and roughly forced your chest down on it. You tried lifting yourself up, but he just placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades and forced you back down. 

“Stay.” He growled, making you stiffen. He flipped your skirt up and you squirmed with a low whine. “No shorts?” He spanked you again and you quickly scrambled for purchase on the desk. When he roughly groped your ass, you let out a quiet moan and squeezed your thighs together, but he kicked your legs apart, not letting you have any relief. 

“Daddy…” You whined, but it cut off into a yelp when he spanked you again. He roughly cupped your sex and you mewled in response as you pushed your hips back. 

“Such a needy fucking pussy for a virgin.” He gruffed, making you blush, but it only intensified when he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Fuck…” He muttered, then dragged a finger through your slit, spreading your arousal. “Fuck!” You jumped at the sudden increase in volume. Was he mad? He sounded like he was quickly losing his composure and you weren’t exactly sure why or how you could help him. 

“Daddy?” 

“Shut up.” He hissed, roughly gripping your underwear and pulling until he ripped it off of you. “Just shut the fuck up.” 

“Mmph!” He shoved your panties in your mouth before you could even register what was happening. He ignored you and roughly groped your ass again, pulling you apart to spread your holes and cursing under his breath. When wetness and heat replaced the chilly air on your clit, your hips flinched back toward the pleasure as a surprise moan escaped you. 

He licked over you slowly, still having a firm grip on your ass to keep you spread open. Moving up to your hole, he licked and sucked, making a loud, vulgar slurping sound that had you whining from embarrassment. 

You whimpered, hiding your burning face in your arms. He lapped up your arousal for a while before going back down to your clit and sucking it into his mouth. You choked on a whimper at the sudden, intense pleasure, making him chuckle against you. 

Your knees shook and you moved your hands to grip the desk, trying to ground yourself, but it was just so fucking intense. Eventually, your legs got too weak to hold you up and all of your weight was resting on the desk with the hard wood digging into your hip bones painfully. 

You whimpered, feeling your stomach tighten with arousal even more, but let out an anguished sob when he suddenly pulled back. Your head was spinning with how fast he lifted you off of the desk and sat you down on his chair, removing the makeshift gag.

He pulled your hips to the edge and dove back in eagerly. Your hands landed in his hair as you rocked your hips against his face, moaning and whining at the new feeling— you could already tell you were getting addicted. Moving down to your hole, he lapped up your arousal and rubbed his thumb over your clit, making your stomach feel even tighter.  

“If you let that… that fucking pervert anywhere near you I swear to god you won’t be able to sit for a fucking week.” He growled and you moaned at his words as well as the sudden possessiveness in his tone. “This pussy is mine. Do you understand?” You mewled and tugged his hair, trying to pull his mouth back on you, but he was stronger. 

“Y-yes. Yours, daddy.” You whined, tugging harder. “Please!” You cried, when he still wouldn’t give in. “It’s yours, daddy! I’m all yours.” You sobbed out, grinding your hips in hopes of getting the stimulation back. 

“Pull your shirt up.” He gruffed, only leaning back down after you obeyed. His mouth took over his thumb again and he reached up to grope your breast as he sucked on your clit in an almost feral manner. “Who’s tits are these?” He mumbled against you, starting to toy with your nipple now. 

“Yours.” 

“Who’s allowed to see them?” He switched hands, giving your other nipple the same treatment. 

“Only you.” You said through a breath, feeling the coil in your stomach get impossibly tighter. 

“Who’s allowed to touch them?” 

“Only you, daddy. Please!” He didn’t respond, he just worked harder and faster on your clit until you fell over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and pulled on his hair hard enough to make him hiss in pain. But that was overshadowed by the feeling flooding your entire body, making you tremble and writhe as you rutted against his face. You weren’t lying when you said you don’t touch yourself, but now that you know what an orgasm feels like? You might start trying honestly. 

Once your body sagged into the chair and your sounds died down, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. You were panting, still trying to calm down even though you were practically dizzy with pleasure. You felt warm hands running up and down your thighs, soothing you, and you gave him a dopey smile as your eyes fluttered open to look down at him. 

“You’ve got quite the grip on you, kiddo.” He chuckled, making you blush and loosen your hands in his hair. 

“Sorry.” You said sheepishly, trying to rub his scalp a little to soothe the ache he must be feeling from you pulling so hard. 

“You okay?” He asked and you nodded wordlessly. “I… I didn’t mean to get so harsh. I just worry.” 

“I know, it’s okay. I won’t go near him.” It felt like you were hit with a wave of exhaustion all of a sudden. Is that what orgasms do? Make you sleepy?

“Good girl. You tired?” When you nodded, he chuckled quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up really quick. Wait here.” As if you could stand on your wobbly legs. You thought with an internal scoff. He left the room and returned with a damp washcloth a minute later. He started with your face, gently wiping the mascara from under your eyes and the dried spit around your mouth, trailing down your chest. Once that was cleaned up, he went even lower. You jolted when the cloth brushed over your folds. 

“I’ll be quick.” He said, trying to soothe you. He wiped the area gently and you couldn’t help the quiet moan that slipped out when he brushed your clit. “None of that.” He reprimanded you softly and with a smile. When he finished, he pulled your top back down and fixed your skirt. 

“Do you still want that hot chocolate and movie?” You nodded with a lazy smile and he chuckled before picking you up and carrying you to the living room. He set you down on the couch gently and laid a blanket over you, then kissed the top of your head. As he was walking to the kitchen, your brain was already starting to come up with new ways to get this to happen again. You still have so much to learn, after all. 

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[symbiomancy]

PRIZE —ryōmen sukuna

—summary: You and Sukuna make a bet. He doesn't clarify what he wants if he wins. It's okay; you'll find out soon enough.

—cw: f!reader, stepcest, otherwise pretty tame today

—wc: 1,4k // also on ao3

“So, do you even do anything on the court or do you just stand there and look pretty?”

Sukuna turns to you, brows raised. The corner of his lips curls up in amusement. “Just because you don’t understand how the game works doesn’t mean I don’t do anything,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes his biceps bulge and you allow your eyes to linger on them momentarily before you meet his gaze again.

“Prove your worth, then,” you shrug your shoulders once and tilt your body to the side to get a glimpse of the people doing their last warm-up exercises on the basketball court. “Earn a lot of points, be the MVP. Win, or do whatever it is you do.”

He eyes the way you’re leaned to the side and the way you pull yourself straight again and shift your attention away from his teammates, head tilted, now staring at him through your pretty lashes. He likes this angle. You’re not that much shorter than him, but this, this angle he likes, and finds himself wanting to place his hand on your jaw and tilt it up.

“Let’s make it a bet, then.”

You purse your lips, narrow your eyes.

“Alright,” you cede, tilting your head the other way. “If you suck out there, you make me a second bento for a week so I don’t have to grab something from the convenience store on the way to my language classes. And if you win—”

“When I win.”

You roll your eyes. “If you win… I don’t know, what do you want?”

“I can choose anything?”

“Yes, unless it brings me physical, psychological, emotional or reputational harm.”

Sukuna is quiet for a few moments, staring at you with a new intensity. It sends a shiver down your spine and you take a quick breath in to dispel the jitter in your veins. Then, he holds out his hand.

“Deal.” He grins, broad and charming when you accept and shake on the deal. He motions to the overhead level where a crowd has gathered — mostly girls, probably from all years if you had to venture a guess — his other hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the stairs. “Enjoy the show.”

To his credit, he’s good. It takes a while for the game to get going, but when it does, he’s fast, almost graceful in the way he dodges around the other team’s players to make his way to the net. He stops, sneakers squeaking against the vinyl, and throws the ball. It’s a clean shot. His teammates pat him on the back and the girls around you cheer.

Your eyes meet and Sukuna stops, turns his body towards you, and does a small, almost mocking bow. The crowd around you explodes in a cacophony of screaming and you place your hands over your ears.

He sure is popular.

The games pass in a blur. Sukuna keeps up easily, netting point after point after point. Each time, the cheers of your peers threaten to deafen you. Then, the last game is called, the teams shake hands and everything winds down. People still linger when the teams are stretching and cleaning up. You even spot a few volunteering themselves for help.

Sukuna doesn’t say anything about the bet when you meet up after he’s showered and dressed and parted with his teammates. You congratulate him and he beams like you’ve never seen before, eyes bright and hair slicked back, curling at the ends. He doesn’t bring your bet up even at the dinner table or when you’re all winding down in the living room, everyone piled onto the couch and the armchairs. Your parents congratulate him on a successful match and his smile returns full force, launching into a play-by-play for everyone that wasn’t present. You almost think he’s forgotten about your bet by the time the lights are all out in the house.

Until there’s a knock on your bedroom door as you’re getting ready for bed. The clock on your laptop screen stares at you. Just minutes from midnight. You unlock your door and crack it open just enough to see Sukuna on the other side, leaning against the doorway with his hands in his sweats’ pockets. The outline of his cock is obvious against the fabric and you let your eyes linger on it for the fraction of a second before you raise them to meet his. You almost, almost get distracted by his lack of shirt. He notices.

“I figured out what I wanted,” he announces with an easy grin.

“Right now?” You glance at the clock again, then back to him. Sukuna nods. You pull your door open just enough for him to slip in. “Need I remind you the clause about physical, psychological—”

“Emotional and reputational harm. I got it; I took ‘em all into account.” He wanders a few steps deeper into your room as the lock on your bedroom door triggers and picks up the cat-shaped nightlight on your dresser. He smacks it once. It turns purple. He smacks it again and the light changes to warm white.

“So?” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly rethinking your nearly non-existent sleeping attire. Summer is warm and stuffy; there’s no point in sweating through the night when you can keep your clothing to a minimum and the window cracked open. Cheeky shorts and a thin, cropped shirt help ward off the usual heat. Now there’s a different type of heat simmering under your skin.

“I want a kiss,” he says, placing the nightlight back onto the dresser. “A nice, proper kiss.”

“Why?” You shrug your shoulders when he gives you an incredulous look. “No, I mean like— you had so many girls practically throwing themselves at you during and after the game-meet-thingy; you could get a kiss from anyone.”

“Yeah, I could.” He closes what little distance separates you and hooks his knuckles under your chin. His other hand rests on your hip, draws lazy circles into the flesh. It sends a jolt down your spine, like livewire in your veins. “But I want it from you.” His breath fans your lips. Heat rushes to your face.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t ruin your parents’ relationship with something so messy, something like this, something that’ll only blow up in your faces down the line. But he’s all-encompassing, taking up your whole vision, everywhere is him and only him, his eyes glued to your lips.

Sukuna closes the gap. His mouth is slow on yours, his lips warm, slightly chapped. You really shouldn’t—

His hands skirt under your sleeping shirt, and travel up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Thumbs graze your nipples and you arch into his chest, gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, eager and hungry. His tongue slips into your mouth. The heat bubbling under your skin spreads through your body, has your pulse living in your throat. Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. He grunts against your mouth, digs his teeth into your bottom lip and suddenly you’re lightheaded, his hands anchoring you to place, keeping you from floating off into space. His chest is pressed to yours, large warm hands on your ribs and then down, down, until one rests on the small of your back and he pulls you into him, hip to hip. His cock is stiff against your thigh.

You’re the first one to pull away, hands firmly on his shoulders when you nudge him backwards. Sukuna’s cheeks are flushed in the faint light of your cat-shaped nightlight, lips glossy, eyes half-lidded, breath loud in the confines of your bedroom, hands still on your body.

You inhale slowly but it does little to knock some breath back into your lungs. Your chest is heaving — so is his — and yet you step aside, unlock your bedroom door and pull it ajar. He slips out just as easily as he’d slipped in, his touch lingering as he takes his escape.

When you hear his bedroom door open, you lean into the hallway, calling out his name in a whisper. He looks over, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “If… if you want to keep… this,” you motion between him and yourself, “going, get some chapstick, dude.”

You close the door and lock it.

banners by @/cafekitsune.

[virescent-v]

Part II:

Summary: Emily talks more with Addie as time winds down on her decision. Warnings: none -- our ladies just talk Word count: 2.5k

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck? 

Emily tried to calm her racing mind, wishing she could bring her hands up and rub at her temple. Pros and cons flitted through her mind at a rapid pace, not really allowing her to focus on anything. 

Either way, she figured, she was dead. 

There wasn’t much to a life living as a vampire, was there? 

She knew that she would have to talk to Addie more to get some questions answered before she could reasonably make an informed decision, but she wanted to have some idea of what her mind was thinking. 

As the virus slowly took over her body, Emily tried to piece together what was happening internally. She closed her eyes, taking an internal catalog. Her head was pounding, a thickness that ebbed and flowed with her pulse, which was irregular and fast. Her entire body ached, as if she had run a marathon the day before. Her stomach felt queasy, that weird sensation where you can’t tell if you’re going to throw up or if you need to eat. 

Overall, she felt like shit. 

Her brain tried to rationalize what was going on, but she still couldn’t believe that vampires were real. That she would be one if she decided to be. 

But she still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. 

As the sun began to set, Emily had a list of questions ready for Addie’s return to the room. She was fairly certain that she didn’t want to die die, to cease to exist from this world completely. She still felt like she had so much left to do, so much left to see. 

But. 

On the other hand, she wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to be a vampire either. 

Emily’s mind was convoluted with media-based stories of the mythical creatures. Flashes of Twilight and Underworld vampires running through her mind. It couldn’t be like that, though, right? Never allowed out in the sun, blood thirsty, impossible speed? 

But, she really needed to talk to Addie first, to clarify everything, to get her perspective on the way she was living her life. 

Speaking of Addie, Emily questioned how the woman was near her in the warehouse at all. Had she been responsible for some of the murders? Was she an ally to the unsub? 

Could Emily even trust her? 

As Emily’s mind continued to question the woman’s existence, there was a quiet knock at the door.  

Emily tilted her head in the direction of the knock, watching as the door slid slowly open. Addie peaked her head in, glancing curiously at Emily before entering and closing the door behind her. 

Emily finally took Addie in, watching the way the woman carried herself. 

Addie was slightly shorter than Emily, and curvier. Her skin was pale, but still looked sun-kissed, somehow. She had long, wavy, auburn hair that complimented her strikingly beautiful eyes. Her face seemed perfectly structured, as if she was carved from marble. Each step she took towards Emily reverberated throughout the room, her heels commanding attention. She walked with a grace that echoed years of existing. 

Pulling over a chair she had snagged from the desk by the corner, Addie sat down with a long sigh. She smoothed her hands over her thighs. “I can tell by the look on your face that you have a lot of questions for me.” She met Emily’s eyes. “Before you ask them, I figured we could skip some and I can just tell you a little about me.” 

Emily scanned the other woman’s face. She found no trace of anything that raised Emily’s internal alarms, so she just nodded. 

Addie smoothed the skirt of her black dress down, crossing her legs at the ankles and relaxed back into the chair. “As I said before, my name is Adelaide Turner. But, I’ve been known by many other names.” She shrugged. “An issue with being alive as long as I have.” 

Addie played with a loose thread on her skirt. “I was born in May of 1826. I died in late autumn of 1861. I’ve been thirty-five for well over one-hundred and fifty years.” 

Emily felt her eyes widened, disbelieving. 

“I know. I don’t look a day over one-hundred and twenty,” she winked, chuckling lightly at Emily’s facial expressions. 

“I grew up in America, to a wealthy family. My father worked in trade, owned land, and later worked in politics. I’ve continued to build onto his fortune since his passing. I have many business ventures, which I will not get into right now,” she trailed off. 

Emily quirked an eyebrow at her, silently asking about the most pressing question. Why was Addie in the warehouse? 

As if able to read her mind, Addie shook her head. “I won’t be answering questions about the warehouse. Not yet at least. Just know that I am one of the good ones, Emily. But, there are a lot of us out there that are not,” she said, disgust written across her face. 

Another deep sigh. “I got sick– pneumonia. The doctors couldn’t do anything. They were expecting me to die within the night. But, my father brought this man to my bedside. His name was Charlie. He claimed he could cure me and I jumped at the chance. The rest is…well, a very extensive history.” 

Addie looked at Emily as the brunette tried to piece together what information she had. Not that it was much. Something about this woman was captivating, alluring in a mysterious way. Emily felt like she could listen to her for ages. 

“What was the turning process like?” Emily asked. 

Addie’s eyebrows shot up, surprised. “Not the first question I thought that you’d ask, but an important one, I suppose.” Addie leaned forward, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “It’s not pleasant. I won’t lie to you. In the next day, you’ll start having fevers, your headache will worsen, there will be sensitivity to light, not just the sun. Eventually, you will begin to thirst for blood, an insatiable need.” 

Emily gasped slightly. The one thing that truly worried her. She wasn’t sure she could kill people to fulfill her hunger, becoming like one of the people she spent her career chasing down. 

“Don’t worry about the blood, Emily. It’s locally sourced, with consent from volunteers.” 

Emily just gaped, awaiting further explanation. 

“There are people in this world that are human and know of our kind. They volunteer their bodies to us to feed from. Some of them like to be bitten, some just donate blood.” Addie smiled mischievously. “We drink blood from pouches. Like Capri-Suns,” she giggled. 

Emily caught herself almost smiling, enjoying the way this woman carried herself, finding humor and laughs in the midst of a heavy conversation. Quickly, though, her smile faded. 

“Why would they do that, though?” 

Addie’s laughter faded out. “Well, sometimes, they need something from us. Protection, money, whatever.” She shrugged, “Some just enjoy it, as it can be a sort of… sexually charged phenomenon. Others do it hoping one day they’ll get turned, too. Death is a fear felt by many.” 

Emily brought her lip between her teeth. “Why am I tied down?” 

Addie tilted her head. “For your protection, and ours. If you decide to go through with the transformation, once the blood lust kicks in, you will be almost impossible to stop. You will go after anything with blood, including us.” 

Emily’s face screwed up again. “Even you?” 

Addie smirked, a common occurrence for her. “I still have blood, Emily. I just don’t need my heart to pump it. It’s constantly being produced by my bone marrow. Vamps can actually feed off of each other. But if we’re not careful, it can create a blood bond.” She waved her hand dismissively. “A topic for another time.” 

Emily opened and closed her fists a few times, feeling her blood and the virus pumping through her. The tingling, burning sensation was growing steadily, working its way towards her chest. Taking a deep breath, she refocused on Adelaide, pulling her lip between her teeth. “What should I do?” Emily whispered. 

Addie uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her gaze heavy on Emily’s. “I cannot answer that for you. There are pros and cons to both. You will be nearly immortal – there are ways for us to die – and you will watch everyone you love die as you remain the same. There are very strict rules for our kind, ones that prevent us from just turning whoever we want.” 

Emily furrowed her brow, again, for what felt like the millionth time in the past few minutes. “Why did you choose me, then?” 

Addie leaned back in her chair. “I’ve been watching you, Emily. For reasons I cannot – will not – get into right now. Just know, you have been on our list for quite some time. Finding you in that warehouse was almost an act of fate. However, the choice is still yours. I refuse to turn anyone without their consent, without the knowledge of what this really means for you.” 

Emily looked at the auburn-haired woman’s expression, her nonverbal cues. Being a profiler was a hard skill to turn off sometimes. There was a disdain there, which Emily figured as much by the consent comment. A trauma hidden under years of emotional walls. Emily found herself wanting to know more, wanting to know all of the intimate knowledge of the mysterious woman’s life. 

Emily chose to not dig deeper, not wanting to sully the woman’s playful spirit. Emily glanced towards Addie, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So,” Emily smirked, watching Addie’s attention divide between her eyes and smile. “Is this like Twilight?” 

At that, Addie’s head fell back in full belly laughter, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. It was a deep rumble, melodic almost. A sound that Emily realized she wanted to hear more. 

Through her laughter, “No, Emily, I don’t sparkle in the sun.” She wiped an errant tear from her eye. She shook her head from side to side, enjoying the banter to lighten the mood a little. 

Emily’s eyes grew, lit up a little. “If I turn, do I get powers?” 

Addie rolled her eyes, but did not seem surprised by the question. “Our profile on you said you had your childish moments, liked to joke, but you are far exceeding my expectations.” 

Emily smiled widely, but then paused. “Profile?” 

Addie lifted a brow. “I told you, I’ve been watching you, Agent Prentiss.” 

Emily continued to stare at the woman, waiting for an answer to her original question. Adelaide sighed, “There are certain…perks, yes. Some of the myths and stories about us are based on facts, you know.” 

In a moment, a swift blur moved some of Emily’s hair. Within a flash, Addie was across the room near the fireplace, looking composed. “We can move quickly, that is true.” She picked up the iron poker and swiftly bent it in half. “We are stronger than you can imagine.” In another flash, she was back at Emily’s side, her face close to the brunette’s. 

Emily’s breath stuttered, her body caught off guard by the quick movements and closeness. It felt like every hair on her body stood up. 

Addie’s eyes seemed to almost glow gold, connecting with Emily’s in an almost trance. “We have the ability to dominate human minds, sending people into an almost trance-like state. We can read the minds of people we feed from, harness their memories, but only if we bite them. Depending on the human’s will, they can hold us off on entering their minds, but not forever. We can destroy their sanity if we want. But, again, that’s one of our heavily enforced rules.” She tilted her head a little, her eyes glancing past Emily through the door, a little lost almost. “We can communicate with each other telepathically if we share a blood bond.” Emily wondered what that was about. 

Coming back to herself, Addie trailed her hand down Emily’s arm, sending shivers through her. “We have greater sensitivity – to sounds, to touch, to cold and hot. It can make for some…interesting moments.” As Addie’s hand brushed Emily’s, the innuendo was apparent. It was intriguing to say the least. 

Addie walked around Emily, settling back into the chair. “As we age and mature, we can gain what you call powers,” she rolled her eyes again. “But they aren’t like Twilight. Simplistic elemental changes, mind control, the ability to defy gravity. Nothing crazy like Bella’s shield or Jane’s pain illusion.” 

Emily looked confused. “Everything you’re telling me sounds like a win, really. Immortality, super speed, strength, mind control? Doesn’t seem like many downsides, really.” 

Addie just tilted her head, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Humans,” she muttered. “Such simplistic beings.” She cleared her throat, leaning forward in the chair again, making sure Emily was paying attention. 

“There are downsides, Emily. You have to keep them in mind. We are semi-immortal. Yes, we live forever, but we can still die. There are ways to kill us. We are hunted by those that do not agree with our existence.” Addie’s face seemed to fall, more saddened and serious than Emily had seen. “Your friends and family cannot know of your status as a vamp, Emily. You can still visit them for a little after you turn, but eventually you will have to leave them. They will continue to age and you will not. They will die and you won’t be allowed near them. Everyone you know today will be dead. Any human you meet will die and you will still be here.” 

Emily pondered that for a moment. She didn’t have many family – her relationship with her mother was already strained. Her only true family was her team. She wasn’t sure she could watch them die. She looked at Addie, trying to piece together the missing pieces. “You said human. You must have other vamps that you are close with?” 

Addie chewed on her lip, her eyes downcast. Her voice sounded more raw, more emotional than Emily had seen. “Yes, of course. Vampires usually belong to a coven, an order. They become your family.” A stifled sniffle. When Addie looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed. “We aren’t invincible, Emily. We lose each other, too.” 

Emily knew not to push. The emotion barely hidden behind the strong facade Adelaide put out. Asking for more details right now wouldn’t get her far, and she didn’t want to push her luck with the woman who held her life in her hands. 

Addie cleared her throat, trying to shove the emotion back down. “Do you have any other questions?” 

“You said you were watching me, chose me. That your presence in the warehouse was almost fate-like. Why? Why me? What do you want with me?” 

Addie once again rose from the chair and looked out the window. “We’re running out of time for your decision.” She walked to the door and paused in the entryway. She tried to smile a little, tried to convey everything to Emily in a single look. “This life is full of… interesting characters. It’s my job to keep them in line. I figured I could use your help, Agent Prentiss. Are you up for the challenge?” She asked, eyebrow lifted once more.

With that, Addie closed the door and left Emily to her thoughts, her decision looming over her.

[darksilver-hoziersversion]

Unrequited love that stays Unrequited.

Paring: MCU!Peter Parker x Male Reader

Warning: Very sad... I guess?

Word count: 3042

Summary: This is during the No way home movie... All (Y/n) wanted was to be with his best friend. But fate has different plans for him, and it's going to crush him.

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

Peter and (Y/n) had been close friends since their childhood. Ever since they met, they have been inseparable best friends. (Y/n) was the first person to know that Peter was Spider-Man, the first to know when Peter was sad, angry, or confused. In short, (Y/n) was the person Peter always ran to when he needed someone, and Peter has always been there for (Y/n) too.

Until Peter fell in love with MJ, the smart, pretty, curly-haired, quirky, and adorable girl. (Y/n) was happy for Peter that he had finally found someone he loved and cherished. He was happy that Peter finally found the person he could kiss with, hold hands in public, smile with, but it hurt to see him with someone else, especially when (Y/n) had been in love with him, for as long as he could remember. Watching Peter look at MJ with love and passion, the way he looked at her like she was a goddess made from the finest galaxy who had hung the moon. It made (Y/n) drown in jealousy.

When the time comes that Peter needs (Y/n)'s help, because the universe was collapsing. Of course (Y/n) said Yes without hesitation, he'd do anything for Peter Parker.

As (Y/n) was writing in his notebook, there was a knock on his door. "Just a sec!" he shouted, but the knock came again, and this time, he stood up to open the door. He was stunned to see Peter standing there with a small smile on his face. "(Y/n)," Peter greeted, and (Y/n) managed to stammer a response before inviting Peter inside. The shorter one gestured for his best friend to come inside. He still couldn't believe Peter was here. His face was messed up, covered in different shades of color with a little bit of blood on his forehead.

"Just-- sit, and I'll get something to clean you up." (Y/n) stumbled out of his room to the bathroom to grab the supplies without question.

***

Mj gazed around the rooftop, searching for Peter. She scanned the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. "This is where he always comes when he needs to clear his head," she murmured to herself. "He has to be here." She informed, then looked at the other Peter, they had asked where her Peter usually goes when he wants to be alone. She was certain it was this place.

"Well. He isn't here." Peter with the jacket stated, "Perhaps, you could ask someone? Does (Y/n) exist in this universe?" He tilted his head in curiosity.

"(Y/n) (L/n)?" Ned beamed. "Yeah, of course he does! He's our best friend too. Thought he stays away from this side of life. You know, the dangerous part of life. but he does help Peter after the fights and stuff. He's like our doctor.

Older Peter nodded, a small smile on his lips. "That sounds like (Y/n), alright."

"Wait, you know (Y/n)?" the other Peter interjected, looking almost stunned.

"Sure do. He's my boyfriend," Older Peter replied with a grin.

"He's your what?" Ned asked, flabbergasted, his eyebrows raised.

"He's mine too!" the taller Peter exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. "We've been together for 10 years." He beamed happily. "I fell in love with him in your universe," he clarified, pointing to the older Peter. "Well, not me exactly, but a version of me. You get the idea."

The idea that Peter Parker could fall in love with (Y/n) across any universe warmed his heart, but he couldn't help feeling perplexed as to why the youngest Peter was merely friends with him.

"I should, I should call him." Ned reached for his pockets and immediately dialed (Y/n)'s Phone. "(Y/n)! Hi. Um. Hi!" Ned greeted, his voice weavers a little. "So... Is Peter with you...?" He slyly ask.

Ned nodded when he got answer. "Can we go there?"

The other two Peter looked at each other, anticipating an answer.

"Oh." Ned looked downcast, nodding along to whatever (Y/n) said in the phone. When he hung up he took a deep breath and said, "(Y/n) says No. Peter said Yes... Then they were-- I don't know debating? They said we should wait here. They'll come here."

A few minutes later, Ned and Mj were chatting about different plans they could come up with, the two peter were on the roof incase the two arrives and their presence would scare them off.

"Hi." (Y/n) smiled, his cheeks red because of the cold wind. "I'm sorry we're late." He said, holding the bag of destroyed cures.

"(Y/n)!" Ned smiled back.

Then Peter emerged from behind (Y/n), his weary form swaying with burdened sorrow. With tears cascading down his cheeks, Ned and MJ rushed towards him, enveloping his frail frame in a tight embrace. Overwhelmed by the weight of his anguish, Peter crumbled into their arms, his anguished cries consuming the air around them. (Y/n) distance himself from them, giving the friends some space.

"I’m sorry." MJ said softly gently pulls back. "Peter, there’s... there’s some people here.

"What?" He looked around, then Peter leaped up, sensing them... Older Peter and the Other Peter stare down from the school’s tower, silhouetted by the moon.

Peter takes a protective stance, guarding his friends, as the two swing down.

"Hey, wait, wait-- whoa!" He exclaimed, shocked.

The other Peters’ faces say it all. Yes, we’re... you.

(Y/n)'s eyes widened in disbelief. Was this really happening? Were there two other spider people standing before him from another universe? Peter had filled him in on what was going on, but (Y/n) hadn't expected to witness it firsthand.

"Sorry... about May." Older peter said.

"Yeah, sorry. I’ve got some understanding of what it--" Other peter tried to interject.

"No, no, no... please don’t tell me that you know what I’m going through.

"Okay." Other Peter whispers sympathetically, nodding.

"She’s gone. And it’s all my fault. She died for nothing." A pause, then "So I’m gonna do what I should have done in the first place." Peter reaches for The Box in MJ’s hand.

"Peter--"

"Please, don’t! You don’t belong here, either of you. So I’m sending you home. Those other guys are from your worlds, right?"

Other Peter nods.

"So you deal with it. And if they die, if you kill them... that’s on you. It’s not my problem. I don’t care anymore. I’m done." then, sincerely "I’m really sorry that I dragged you into this. But you have to go home now. Good luck."

"Wait Pete." Peter reaches for The Box again, but (Y/n) gently pulls it back. He looks at Peter, "Just hear them out, please?" (Y/n) glanced at the two other Peter, which gave him a small smile in return.

"My uncle Ben was killed. It was my fault." Older Peter started, his face says everything.

"I lost..." Other Peter's voice cracked.  "I lost Gwen. My, um... she was my best friend, My MJ. I couldn’t save her. I’m never gonna be able to forgive myself for that. But I carried on, tried to, um... try to keep going, try to keep being the uh... that “Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man,” ‘cause I knew that’s what she would have wanted. But at some point, I just-- I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter. but (Y/n) was there to pull me out." He glanced at him, whose eye's were wide "And I'm grateful for it. Always... When I said that those times were the worst, trust me on that Peter, I just don’t want you to end up like... like me."

"The night Ben died, I hunted down the man who I thought did it. I wanted him dead. I got what I wanted. It didn’t make it better. It took me a long time to learn to get through that darkness." Older Peter continued, a small smile on his lips as he remembered his time with his (Y/n)... he remembered his time with his own (Y/n), all the good and the bad ones. But amidst the suffocating darkness, (Y/n) emerged as a radiant beacon, illuminating his life with unwavering light.

Peter is reeling. Struck by their losses. Their regrets. Their warning.

"I want to kill him. I want to tear him apart. I can still hear her voice in my head. Even after she was hurt, she said to me that we did the right thing. She told me that, “With great power--”"

"Comes great responsibility.”

The three of them look at each other. How do they know?

"Wait, what? How do you know that?"

"Uncle Ben said it." Older Peter admitted.

"The day he died." Other Peter continued.

The three Peter Parkers stare at each other, overwhelmed by this uncanny connection. Bound together across universes by those words.

"Maybe she didn’t die for nothing, Peter." Older Peter guessed.

***

(Y/n) came to a conclusion by connecting the dot together that the new people they met was Peter, but Peter from the other universes. He wanted to celebrate the fact that the Multiverse Theory was real. But he couldn't, because everything was falling apart and he didn't know how he could help other than follow them around.

He felt small, useless by the fact that by the time they were in the Chemistry lab at school, everyone was working, his Peter instructed them on what to do while he just sits in the distance looking at them as they work. He wanted to approach Peter that was wearing a lab coat, ask him why he had mentioned his name... He wanted to ask what role he played in Peter's life, but he couldn't he didn't want to interrupt him, or any of them for that matter.

"Hey," a small voice chimed in from his side, causing (Y/n) to jump in surprise. Startled by the sudden appearance, he turned to face the source of the voice, his heart racing.

"Hi," he squeaked, attempting to conceal his nervousness with a shy smile. His palms grew clammy as he struggled to find his composure in the presence of this unexpected visitor.

"You doing okay?" the newcomer asked, their voice filled with genuine concern. A gentle smile adorned their face, casting a warm and reassuring glow that eased (Y/n)'s apprehension.

"Yeah... I think." He looked down.

"If it makes you feel better... I think you look pretty tonight." Peter offered, his words laced with sincerity. His (Y/n) from his universe loved getting complements and praises, even in the worse situation. It makes his (Y/n) feel a little lightweight.

(Y/n) let out a small laugh. A faint blush crept onto (Y/n)'s cheeks, his nervous smile transforming into a more genuine expression. "Okay, that's weird..." The smile on his face not leaving. "But thanks though. You're actually the first person who told me that I'm pretty."

"Wait, really? Not even--" his head turned, and saw MJ leans her head against Peter. Peter relaxes into her. "Uhm. I'm sorry." He suddenly said.

(Y/n) who was still looking at him, with a small smile on his lips said, "What for?" He tried so hard not to look at where Mj and Peter sat. He knew what he would feel if he did, and he isn't really fond of feeling jealous, because he knows he doesn't have the right to.

"Everything. If you ever feel small or empty, just know that everyone in this room loves you so much," Peter 3 said, his voice filled with sincerity and compassion.

"How can you say that? You don't even know me," (Y/n) replied, his voice tinged with sadness and self-doubt.

"But I do... Well, the other you, from my universe. I think you two are very similar."

"Yeah? What was he like?" (Y/n) asked, a glimmer of curiosity shining in his eyes.

"Smart, kind, funny, gentle, obsessed with Academics... Cute. He has this look that could make you give in and say yes, even if he asks for something so unhinged. You'd do anything for him," Other Peter described, a fond smile forming on his lips.

"That sounds nice," (Y/n) remarked, a mixture of longing and melancholy in his voice.

"He's also very good at kissing. Can't leave that out," Older Peter added with a mischievous grin.

(Y/n) startled, holding onto Other Peter's shoulder to keep himself from falling. "You guys have to stop sneaking at me like that!"

"Sorry, just a habit," Older Peter apologized.

"Oh, yeah. Very good at kissing," Other Peter playfully chimed in.

"Well... I wouldn't know," (Y/n) replied, rolling his eyes in a lighthearted manner.

"He's very sweet you know. And I am very In love with him... And seeing you here, alone... It just brought memories..." Older Peter confessed, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

"Well, I'm sorry if my presence brought out darkness in your life," (Y/n) said, looking down, feeling ashamed and dejected. "I've always felt like I'm the problem."

"Hey, don't say that. You're not, and you will never be the problem. It's just, these so called dark time, happened because my (Y/n) wasn't there for me. And when he came into my life it was like the sun finally rose and stayed, providing me comfort and warmth,"

Peter 3 reassured him, his voice filled with genuine care.

"He's lucky, then. The two (Y/n). Very lucky. Because all I want is that," (Y/n) admitted, his voice breaking with emotion. "And... I could never have that. So, I hope he's doing great. I hope he doesn't feel what I feel now..."

"Good," (Y/n) nodded, appreciating the support and understanding.

"What have you always wanted?" Older Peter asked, his voice soft and compassionate.

"I don't know... I just want him to look at me. Like, you know..." His voice faded, and hands fumbling with the hem of his coat. "Like I'm his." His heart shattered, he knew that wasn't possible. He always convinced himself that Peter will never looked at him the way he wanted to be looked at. He tried to forget the thought that he was In love with his Best friend. So he went on countless dates, slept with some of them, but the feeling clung to him, and it seem it doesn't want to let go.

Peter 2 and 3 sat solemnly in front of (Y/n), their eyes heavy with disappointment. They had thought that every version of themselves fell in love with (Y/n). But in this universe, it seemed that fate had different plans.

Peter 3 spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "We don't understand it. We don't know why it had to be this way."

(Y/n) couldn't help but feel a lump form in his throat. It was one thing to know that the Peters from other universes were in love with him, but it was another to see the disappointment etched on the faces of the two in front of them. He knew that this wasn't their fault, that there was no way they could have predicted this outcome, but the guilt still lingered.

As they sat there in silence, (Y/n) couldn't help but think of the recent events that had transpired. The reveal of Peter Parker's secret identity and the betrayal of those they thought were their friends. It was all so overwhelming, and now, to add insult to injury, the universe had decided that he was not meant to find love.

Tears threatened to spill over, and (Y/n) couldn't bring himself to look at the two Peters in front of them. They knew that this was not their fault, that it was not the fault of anyone. It was just the cruel reality of the multiverse.

As they sat there in silence, the weight of the world heavy on their shoulders, (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder if they would ever find love. If they would ever find someone who would love them for who they were, and not just because of some cosmic coincidence. But for now, all they could do was take solace in the fact that they had the support of the two Peters in front of them, even if they couldn't give them the love he desired.

***

Finally, the fight was over. After bidding farewell to Ned and MJ, Peter turned to (Y/n), his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and resignation.

"(Y/n)..."

"No," (Y/n) managed to choke out, his voice strained with raw emotion. "You can't do this, Pete. You can't take away the memories." His plea hung in the air, his tears on the brink of spilling over.

(Y/n), we have no choice," Peter's voice cracked, the weight of their predicament bearing heavily upon him.

It was so unfair. (Y/n) couldn't fathom the injustice of it all. He couldn't have the one thing he wanted, and now they were discussing erasing everything? It felt like a cruel twist of fate. Screw the universe, screw destiny. "I love you, Peter," (Y/n) confessed, taking a shaky step closer to his best friend. "But you can't just take my memories away from me. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. My life was a wreck before I met you. You saved me even before you became Spider-Man. The memories we shared are too precious to lose. I don't want to forget you." Every fiber of his being longed to kiss Peter in that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. MJ was right there. Right there...

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). We have no other choice," Peter said, his words laced with sorrow. Without giving (Y/n) a hug or a comforting touch, Peter flew away, leaving him behind.

Tears fell on his cheek, his head turned to the two Peter, shaking his head. Peter 2 looked defeated, and Peter 3 was confused as to why every Peter in every universe would fall in love with (Y/n), as this universe did not, and all  Peter 3 could manage was to look a tad bit disappointed.

The last thing (Y/n) saw was Peter 3 giving him a reassuring smile. It was a smile that spoke a thousand words, conveying a sense of calmness and hope that everything will be okay. It was a smile that (Y/n) knew would stick in his mind for a long time to come.

THE END...?

[mosslarose]

Armortentia

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, meaning Professor Sharp is teaching his sixth years how to brew armortentia. Leading to the events of unhinged chaos.

Word count: 1,900+

My character summary here.

It’s their last period of the day, everyone’s tired and grouchy and in all honesty, Sharp cannot be bothered to try teach these teenagers something necessary to the Hogwarts curriculum. Instead, it’s Valentine’s Day, he’s feeling nicer than usual and thinks a lesson on Armortentia might be nice for the students - oh how wrong he was…

It sttarted off like any normal lesson, professor sharp saying what page the students need to turn to, the ingredients they need and a brief explanation of how to brew. The students then disappearing to their stations like zombies as they prepare the elixir.

Thirty minutes go by and already three explosions have happened and an argument between two students who were apparently together? Apparently smelling someone other than the one they’re supposedly with. Sharp barely listened, just scoffing at the pettiness of his students.

“Poppy? Do you think we’re doing this right?” Maisie finally asks as she’s slowly stirring the potion in front of her.

“Looks like it… you can see it turning that pearly colour” Poppy points to the paragraph in the book that clarifies this as she also points to the colour changing liquid in the pot. Maisie just hums back a response. “Give it a sniff, see if you can smell anything” Poppy finally suggests as Maisie stops stirring when it finally reaches the suggested colour in their potions book.

“You first” Maisie laughs as she pulls away, scared she’ll smell something foul instead of her ‘deepest desire’.

“Alright” Poppy says hesitantly as she slowly leans in, carefully trying to smell what her and Maisie just brewed. You can see her nose twitching “no, I can’t-” her eyes go wide as she smiles “oh! I can smell something” she says excitedly as she concentrates on what exactly it is she can smell.

“What can you smell” Maisie asks curiously, looking intently at the shorter (not by much) girl in front of her.

“Umm…” Poppy is still clearly trying to decipher exactly what it is she can smell. Then her eyebrows rise and you can see in the way the edges of her eyes mildly crease that she’s found something familier. “I can smell old parchment” she finally announces, going to smell again and see what else there is to it. “and leather! And a bit of… a bit of vanilla” she says with a proud smile. However, that smile falters as she looks at Maisie who is only squinting at her with furrowed brows.

“Poppy…” Maisie draws out the last syllable as she says the girls name. She looks at her with crossed arms and a knowing, almost annoyed look.

“What? What’s wrong?” Poppy asks. The question laced with concern and uneasiness.

“You are a complete idiot” Maisie says with a light chuckle as she rolls her eyes. Poppy only furrows her brows at the girl, confusion written all over her face. “You’re smelling my bloody brother” Maisie finally announces and Poppy’s cheeks turn a bright crimson as she looks to the floor, switching her weight between the heels and toes of her feet, going back and fourth as she does so. Poppy goes to speak, opening and closing her mouth, lost for words. “You’re my best friend Pop, you could of told me you know” Maisie says as she places a hand on Poppy’s shoulder, trying to reassure her friend.

“I- I wasn’t exactly aware myself” Poppy answers, still flustered by the realisation of a possible liking towards Maisie’s brother Soren.

“You are an idiot” Maisie chuckles as she herself finally decides to smell the concoction. She bows her head and pulls her hair to the side and tucks it behind her ear as she gently sniffs. You can see the light smile on her face, clearly liking the smell before her.

“What can you smell?” Poppy asks from next to Maisie, who continues to smile and smell the potion, almost entranced by it. “Mais?” Poppy asks again, getting the girls attention.

“Oh Umm…” Maisie shakes herself out of whatever trance she was in and smells again, concentrating on the individual smells that mix together like music notes to create the most beautiful symphony.

Both girls completely unaware of what is about to happen across the room from them.

*

“So, Soren… What can you smell?” Sebastian asks with a smirk on his face, clearly trying to get under the latters skin - annoy him essentially.

“What i smell is no business of yours, Sallow” Soren scoffs as he places the ladle down on the table.

“Oh c’mon on mate…” Sebastian says, thinking carefully of what to say next to most annoy the other “Don’t be coy. Too embarrassed?” Sebastian chuckles. Ominis just nudges him from the seat beside him, obviously in warning to not annoy their good friends brother too much. Sebastian rolls his eyes at him then turns back to Soren, placing his head in his hands and pulling a puppy face “Please…” Sebastian draws out the word and then pouts jokingly when Soren shakes his head in return, clearly tired of Sebastian’s mockery.

“If I comply with your request, then you have to return it and tell me what you smell” Soren says with a knowing smirk, knowing this is something he can hold against the other in the future for his advantage.

“Deal” Sebastian says simply as he spits into his palm and then holds out it out for Soren to shake. Soren looks at the latter in disgust before electing to hold the end of Sebastian’s forefinger and shake that, before pulling a black lace handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaning the ‘dirt’ off his own thumb and finger.

Soren turns around and bows his head gracefully over the cauldron and sniffs. He doesn’t even need to think of what he is smelling and knows instantly each individual, distinct smell from the elixir before him.

“Old books, hay, warm cocoa and hippogriff feathers” Soren announces as he lifts his head swiftly. Sebastian looking at him in utter bemusement. “That’s what a smell.” Soren states like it is completely obvious and Sebastian raises a brow like he’s trying to figure something out.

“That was fast” Sebastian chuckles nervously as he leans into Ominis for agreement, who simply nods so.

“Your turn, Sallow” Soren says with a smirk.

“Hold on…” Ominis finally speaks up, lifting his forefinger as if he’s pausing the people around him, pulling the attention of those closest to him. “That sounds similar to our lovely Sweeting” Ominis states with his own smirk plastered on his face. Soren scoffs.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Soren says as he looks at the two on the station next to him in distaste. “Are you trying to imply that I like Poppy Sweeting?” Soren chuckles like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

“That is exactly what i’m implying” Ominis says from his spot at the potion table. Soren shakes his head at the latter.

“Oh don’t be so absurd” Soren laughs hastily, a slight shake to his words as even he fully doesn’t quite believe himself. Sebastian smirks and laughs and Soren just glares him, Sebastian quickly being quiet as he sees the look on Soren’s face. “Come on Sallow, let’s see what you smell” Soren says finally, raising his eyebrows in daring, changing the topic and pulling the attention from himself. Sebastian huffs as he leans over to smell what he and Ominis not long brewed together.

“I’m not quite sure, can’t decipher it” Sebastian shrugs simply as he pulls away from the cauldron almost instantly.

“Don’t lie to me, Sallow” Soren says, raising an eyebrow. He knows the right thing to say to get it out of him, however. “Or too embarrassed?” Soren smirks as he sees Sebastian’s jaw quite obviously tense in anger. Sebastian leans back over the elixir, nostrils flaring as he takes in the smell before him. You can see his entire body relax as he takes in the smell before him, relishing it.

“I- Uh-” Sebastian stumbles over his own words, trying to find the right way to describe what it is exactly he can smell. Soren raises his eyebrows at him expectantly, knowing Sebastian can’t get out of lying, because they both know Soren will know. “I can smell… uh- garden soil… and wild flowers, but there’s also something slightly more intense, like dark chocolate and mint” Sebastian says and he starts turning red, pulling away from the potion. Oh no-

“You bastard-” Soren goes to pull his wand out as Sebastian moves quickly away from the station, knocking over a chair and then slowly starts taking small steps back.

“For Merlin’s sake, Sebastian” Ominis mutters as he listens to the receding steps of his friend.

“It’s not what you think” Sebastian awkwardly chuckles as he puts both hands up in surrender. “C’mon… mate-”

“I am not your mate” Soren interrupts as he points his wand at Sebastian.

*

“C’mon Mais, tell me” Poppy persists as she nudges Maisie, trying to get the answer out of her.

“I- it’s like a forest.” Maisie says simply “I can smell pine needles, and fresh rain” she says with a fond smile “and- and smoke. Like a fire that’s just been put out. It’s musky” Maisie says sweetly.

“Maisie” Poppy says knowingly and Maisie looks at the girl, her smile faltering.

“Oh” Maisie finally says as she realised. Poppy just laughs and then points at the girl with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.

“You like Sallow!” Poppy almost yells as she flails her hands in excitement. Maisie is quick to shove her hand over Poppy’s mouth to shut her up.

“Alright say it to the whole world why don’t you” Maisie huffs, clearly embarrassed as her cheeks turn a bright red. Poppy giggles. “Ew! Did you just lick my hand!” Maisie almost squeals as she instantly pulls her had away and proceeds to rub it on Poppy’s robe. “Don’t tell anyone please-”

“My sister!” They then hear Soren’s voice echo across the classroom. “I should take it upon myself to end you right here!” Soren yells again as Garreth and Ominis are getting between Sebastian and Soren. Maisie and Poppy look at each and then back at the palava that appears to be happening at the other end of the class room before they begin to rush over.

“Soren what’s wrong?” Maisie asks as she finally reaches the boys. She’s looking between them all, confusion filling hers and Poppy’s faces.

“He!-” Soren announces as he points to Sebastian “-smelt you in the armortentia!” He says, rage filling his features. He’s trying to break through Garreths hold, who is somehow doing a good job of stopping him from getting to Sebastian.

“Yeah? Well you smelt Poppy!” Sebastian yells from behind Ominis. Poppy blushes at the statement and a slight smile passes over her.

“Soren, I’m fairly sure you’re overreacting” Maisie goes on to say “just- wait hold on… Sebastian you smelt what?” Maisie then turns, realising what is actually going on and looks at a bright red Sebastian who just looks to the floor in embarrassment.

They have all now gathered a crowd and Sharp makes his way through to see what appears to actually be going on.

“Right that’s it, ten points from…” he goes to speak but can’t decipher which house exactly should be punished, who’s who and what’s what and ah fuck it “ten points from all houses” he finally says as he walks away and waves his arm “class dismissed” he says simply before slumping back into his desk, he’s too tired for this shit.

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - PT. 1

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW:Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing ⌦ Word count: 1.43k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: I got the name for this from another rock band. This chapter is a bit shorter than what I'd normally write, but there will also be more than one part, so hopefully that makes up for it. Sorry to anyone named Chelsea, it was the first name I thought of. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ Since this series has some very heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse, I will be attaching a link to a website with help hotlines around the world. ⌦ International Mental Health hotlines ⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ (Reader's POV) Cold laminate pressed itself against your cheek as your world spun inside the confines of a small half bath in some house owned by someone you didn't know, in a location you had never been to. The toilet that lied next to you to accompany you in your faded state stood in place to catch any of the waste that you poured into it. Groaning, you grabbed your phone from the spot next to your head, the group chat you'd shared with a few friends having been a ghost town since you asked for their help in the bathroom. The last message you'd read was your own, and your friends seemed to ignore your frantic messages for help as the contents inside your stomach found their way back into your mouth.

Despite feeling as though you were on an amusement park ride that spun itself fast enough to press your body to the metal you'd been standing against, you sat up, the screen of your phone feeling like a thousand flightlights were being shown in your eyes, causing you to squint. The sound of a notification rang through your ears. Quickly, you opened it after seeing that it was a message sent to your group chat.

⌦ You: Can you guys come into the bathroom? I don't feel good (read 2:54 am)

⌦ You: Please? (read 3:00 am)

⌦ 3:35 am

⌦ Chelsea: We went home; you'll have to find a way back to your place (read: 3:45 am).

"Fuck!" You cried, throwing your phone against the wall, and brought your knees to your chest to comfort yourself as you cried into your hands. There was a bang against the locked bathroom door, shaking you out of wallowing in your own self-pity. You had every right to be upset; however, these friends leave you high, drunk, and stranded all the time. At some point, you have to start facing the truth, but today wouldn't be that day.

The bang repeated itself, rushing you to your feet as you grabbed your phone from the floor. They banged against the door one last time, and you opened the door with a huff before pushing past the girl, who looked just about as fucked up as you were. You needed fresh air and a caring shoulder to cry on. Stepping outside, you sat down on the front steps of the house, staring down at your now cracked phone screen, pondering whether or not you should call him.

Before you knew it, you had clicked on his contact and pressed that blue call button under his contact photo. You chewed at the skin on your thumb nervously as the phone rang.

it rang

and rang

and rang

Only on the fourth ring did he finally pick up, giving you a half-awake greeting of something that sounded vaguely like a hello.

"Wonwoo, did I wake you?" You asked, and you could tell that you had, but he lied and said you hadn't anyway.

"What do you need?" He asked, and the sounds of him moving around followed his question.

"I know it's late, but would you pick me up? My friends left me stranded at some party; I don't know where I am, and I'm scared." You began to cry again. You couldn't tell if it was because you were stranded or because you knew for a fact that this was going to happen again. Your words slurred from your sobs and drunken state, but it seemed that Wonwoo knew exactly what you said by the sounds of his keys rattling in his hand.

⌦ (Wonwoo's POV) The sound of Wonwoo's phone filling the room pulled the man out of his slumber. He groaned as he debated whether or not he should answer it. There was only one person who would call him at this time, and it was his childhood best friend. He knew that if he didn't answer, you would wake up in some bathroom somewhere with no memory of how you got there. He didn't bother rolling over; instead, he reached behind him to play some game of claw where his phone was the reward.

Bringing the phone to his face, he squinted as he looked at the caller ID, swiping the button to answer the phone before pressing it to his ear. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he began to speak.

"Hello?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose to force the sleep from his head as he listened to you speak, begging for him to pick you up for the second time this week.

"Yeah, send me your location, and I'll be right there," he said groggily as he slipped his glasses onto his face, getting up from his bed to grab his shoes, sweater, and keys. His heart sank into his stomach when you asked him to stay on the phone until he got there; he agreed and locked his apartment as he left.

The drive to where you'd been essentially abandoned was quiet, apart from your soft sobs and the rain that had started as soon as Wonwoo began driving. When he pulled up to the house, the sight was kind of sad: one lonely person sitting on the porch of a house that was rattling from the loud bass coming from the speakers inside. The rain had drenched your clothes, and it was apparent that the chill from being soaked by a cold night's rain was the least of your problems.

"I'm here; I'm going to hang up now," Wonwoo said, hanging up the phone as he turned off his car. He slipped his sweater off while walking across the yard towards you. As soon as Wonwoo was at the steps, he leaned down to gently tap your shoulder, smiling weakly once you looked up at him. Wonwoo held you close when you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"Wonwoo, I'm so sorry to make you do this again," you cried, effectively soaking the already rain-soaked shirt he'd been wearing. He pulled away after a moment, putting his sweater in your hands.

"Of course I'd be here; have I ever not been there for you?" Wonwoo said as he led you to his car, opening the door for you before getting in once you'd slipped into the passenger seat.

⌦ (Reader's POV) The heat in Wonwoo's apartment was a nice contrast to the chilling rain you'd sat in for the better part of an hour. You tried to go to bed when Wonwoo gave you a change of clothes and enough water to fill two and a half water bottles, but lying in the dark in his living room only made you feel worse about yourself. The tears just kept coming, and you tried to silence your sobs so as not to wake the man who was gracious enough to loan you his clothes and a warm place to sleep for the hundredth time this month.

Staring at the ceiling caused your mind to fall down rabbit holes that you would have preferred to walk around, but the thoughts kept coming. Finally, you'd had enough and looked at the time on your phone.

⌦ 6:15 am

Sighing, you sat up and got up from the couch. The journey to Wonwoo's room felt like a game of operation as you maneuvered around objects to prevent any loud noises. Wonwoo's door was open just enough for you to peek your head in; he was sound asleep, his back turned to the door as he lied there.

Tiptoeing into his room, you gently tapped his shoulder, chewing the inside of your lip as you felt him begin to stir. It took another few taps for him to finally peep an eye open and turn toward you, sitting up on his elbow when he noticed the look of worry that was on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asked; his voice had been deeper from sleep, and his messy hair made him look oddly attractive.

"I couldn't sleep; could..could I stay in here tonight?" You asked, resting a knee on the edge of the bed. He looked at you for a moment, wondering if he were in a dream or not.

Your heart felt as though it were doing back flips when he scooted to the side and lifted the blanket for you to slide in. Just as he began to turn, you grabbed ahold of his arm to cuddle yourself into him. He hesitated for a moment before fully wrapping his arm around you.

Finally, you could sleep comfortably.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The Eclipse, Blood Moon, And Harvest Moon Show

Pairings: DJ Music Man/Blood Moon, Glamrock Bonnie/Harvest Moon

Word Count: 1,160 Words

Summary: Learning Minecraft goes hilariously when four people don't know what they're doing. Eclipse and Sirius go shopping.

Warnings: Death (in game and mentioned), Nightmare, Anxiety Attack, Cursing, Abuse (mentioned only), let me know if I should add anything else.

Chapter 6: Minecraft Chaos With Lunar and Sirius & Shopping Haul With Sirius and Eclipse

"Hello and welcome to the Eclipse, Blood Moon, and Harvest Moon Show, everyone!" Blood Moon greeted.

"Today we're playing Minecraft with Lunar and Sirius. Today is she/her for me and he/him for Siri." Eclipse clarified.

"For Vessie, we found a way to download Minecraft for them so they can play with us so today is a five-person game for once." Blood Moon announced happily.

"I showed them how!" Lunar happily announced.

"I still have very little idea of what to do." Sirius admitted. Filming was hilarious.

Lunar was chasing a specific bee and dying for it over and over. Sirius kept following the others around and watching what they were doing. Eclipse had managed to create a fully functional Death Star, which had terrified the others so she had gotten rid of it.

Harvest was constantly falling through the world after having dug completely through under their spawn point. Bloody was hoarding sheep and breeding them for a killing machine he'd made Eclipse build after the Death Star.

It ended with the lot of them laughing and giggling like kids as Eclipse remade and activated her Death Star and razed the world. Blood Moon and Harvest had even split from each other due to how much they were laughing and Sirius was trying to hide his chuckling and failing watching a sheep of Blood Moon's falling through the world.

"Alright, everyone, that was today's episode. Just sibling shenanigans. Like, comment, and subscribe for more episodes of the Eclipse, Blood, and Harvest Show." Lunar did the outro for the trio still giggling their asses off at the chicken trying to escape the Death Star's beam.

Once the giggling finally tapered off, they all calmed down and had to take a few minutes more to calm down instead of starting right back up giggling. Sirius was shifting uncomfortably and hands seeming to hide his chest. Oh.

"Girl day suddenly?" Eclipse asked.

"Yeah." Sirius admitted.

"Here." Eclipse handed her a spare sweater. "I should take you to get dresses. I've been meaning to go shopping and get some." Eclipse told her.

"Okay, yeah, we can, I guess. I have money in my account still." Sirius agreed.

"My treat. I have like seventeen thousand left from my last sale."

"Oh, I couldn't that yours-"

"Sirius, we can't possibly spend 17k in one go getting dresses. I'm treating you, come on. We'll get dressed in something comfy and we'll go shopping." Eclipse assured her and dragged her off to her room, putting various clothing on the bed for Sirius to pick and choose from to get dressed.

"You pick anything you want, whatever feels comfortable and easy to get off since we'll probably have to try the dresses on and make sure they fit." Eclipse told her.

"Yeah, okay. Um..."

"I'm not looking, I'm getting dressed too. Can't leave in the jester suit." Eclipse reminded her as she got off her sweater and put on a much more comfortable top and jeans rather than her jester pants. While she was zipping her boots, she checked on Sirius pulling on boots of her own.

"We're the same sizes. It'll be easier to trade then." Eclipse smiled.

"Well, we're practically twins but aren't most models the same size?" Sirius asked.

"No, the twins are a little shorter because of the nanobots. And Lunar just...Lunar has hooves half the time with his tiny form." Eclipse relayed.

"They're shorter? I didn't even notice." Sirius noted as she stood in the boots.

"Alright, ready to go shopping?" Eclipse asked.

"I'm ready."

Shopping was fun, the two looking through together was much akin to kids in a candy store, shoving dresses at each other to try on and Eclipse and Sirius leaving having gotten more than plenty of clothes for both themselves and each other.

Eclipse's new favorite was the short black dress with rhinestone straps and a moon and star pattern all over it. Sirius' ended up being a black crushed velvet dress with a sort of cage on the neckline and lace on the bottom of the skirt.

Both returned giggly and happy and showed off their new clothes to their brothers, Lunar even complimenting Eclipse's new dresses and the twins fawned over Sirius. It was a nice time all around, which Lunar took Sirius back home after so she could go home to her brother after two days away, something her brother may be worried about.

Eclipse went to bed that night pleased with herself, she was happy seeing Sirius so happy with herself. But Eclipse ended up waking from a nightmare of her father at nearly 2 in the morning. She couldn't seem to get back to sleep but she could hear one of the twins up.

Eclipse got up, wandering to her siblings' room, seeing Harvest Moon awake and Blood Moon likely dead asleep and snoring in their head. She laid herself against Harvest, sniffling and they simply held her and brought her to their own bed.

"What's wrong, Clipsey?" Harvest asked softly.

"Nightmare about KC. He came after me again. He tried to kill me." Eclipse explained.

"Clipse, that won't happen. We'll protect you, I promise." Harvest promised her.

"I know, but what if you aren't there? What if he sends you two off and he hurts me again?" Eclipse asked.

"Then we'll take care of you after again. And I won't stop Bloody from going after him. That fucker is not welcome anymore. He is not our father, he is a virus. He hurt you, he can't possibly give a good enough excuse for that." Harvest explained.

"Why me? Why does he hurt me? He loves you two so much but he hurts me. Why does he hurt me?" Eclipse asked, she was breaking back down again into tears, burying against her sibling and Harvest simply rubbed over her back and held her closer.

"He's an asshole, Clipsey. I don't know why he hurts you and not us, but I know there's no reason that he could possibly give that would make it okay. You're his firstborn, he should love you even more than us. But, even if he doesn't, we do love you. And we'll protect you with everything we have."

Eclipse choked a sob. Even if her father didn't love her, the twins did. Her little sibling loved her, they would protect her. She didn't want a shield in them but it felt so much better to know they would protect her. Eclipse felt like the weight was gone from the nightmare. It was still there and it was still scary, but the heavy weight of vulnerability was gone.

"I love you too." Eclipse managed to choke out.

"Get some sleep, Clipsey. It's late, you need some rest. We'll be here the whole time." Harvest assured her and they rubbed over her back a bit more, slowly urging her more and more to sleep until she was asleep against them.

[ofsvnlightt]

Was that [TIAN XIWEI]? Oh no no, that was just [JESTER LAVORRE], a [CANON CHARACTER] from [CRITICAL ROLE]. They are [unknown/TWENTY FIVE] years old, use [SHE/HER],  and [ARE] aware that they are not actually from Washington DC. Too bad they can’t stray from this city for long. 

did i choose this fc just so i could use this gif? ......maybe

How long has your character been here: she was here for a while, then gone for a while, and now she's back. in total, she's probably been in dc for about a year and a half. for this current reappearance though, only a few months.

Job: freelance artist 

Where has your character been pulled from in their fandom: after the events of the uk'otoa two-shot

Has magic affected your character: only a little. she still knows everything of her time with the mighty nein from the main campaign and the first m9 reunion. she does not have her memories from the second reunion, the echos of the solstice. also, the magic of the city did make her human. she is no longer a blue tiefling. she does still have her cleric magic though.

Anything else? yes, actually. this may get lengthy, but i'm going to try my best to stay succinct. the summaries i write below are going to be from her pov, not full explanations of the episodes, to (hopefully) make them shorter. i'll try my best lol.

tldr: jester is from the second campaign of a d&d live play show called critical role. she was created and played by laura bailey.

let me introduce you to the mighty nein! it consists of seven (technically 8) members: her, a tiefling cleric fjord, a half orc warlock/paladin caleb, a human wizard beau, a human monk yahsa, an aasimar barbarian veth, a halfling rogue caduceus, a firbolg cleric kingsley, a tiefling blood hunter/rogue, formerly mollymauk, a tiefling bloodhunter (click the bolded link below to clarify this distinction)

everything below this you do not need to read if you don't want to lol

here is a masterlist with all the posts i made about her memories throughout the campaign - all 141 episodes!

now for the uk'otoa two shot, 2 of the 3 reunion episodes. (this is where it's going to get looong): following the events of the campaign, the mighty nein have all settled down and split off to do their own things. in the short 6 months they've been apart, fjord, jester, and kingsley (previously molly) have started a small shipping company and they themselves still sail the nein heroz often.

one day while off at sea, they get attacked by a storm giant and cultists looking for the 3rd cloven crystal to unlock and set uk'otoa free. the ship gets totaled but to spare the remaining crew and jester (she had really low hp), fjord gives up the crystal. the two of them, kingsley, and the remaining crew get in a dinghy and row to the nearest island to sleep and figure out what to do next. before bedding down for the night, jester uses sending to call caleb to let him know what's happening, and then veth as well. caleb rounds everyone (veth, beau, yasha) up and teleports to where the other three are located - the twinward isles - somewhere in the lucidian ocean, just west of port zoon.

after some discussion and a scry, the nein teleport then polymorph to get to the cyrios end forest, where these minions of uk'otoa are trekking through. after some time of their own journey through the jungle, they finally make it to some temple ruins. they all climb to the top, planning to ambush the scions and minions. [this is where ep 1/the first half of the reunion ends.]

easily noticed by the storm giant, combat starts immediately before the nein can actually prepare the ambush. the storm giant destroys the top of the temple and jester casts earthquake, wanting to collapse it. realizing they need to go inside, jester only lets the quake last a few rounds before ending the spell.

killing the giant and a couple scions, the nein make their way to the bottom of the temple to try to collect the cloven crystal before anything happens. they're too late though, seeing one of the last remaining followers put it into the floor of the temple - the final key in its place, uk'otoa is released. due to his old pact with the leviathan, fjord can sense that it's south of where they are, roaming in the lucidian ocean.

after some discussion and ruling out darktow, the nein decide that caleb will teleport them to nicodranas where they see ominous storm clouds in the distance and hear that people have been having visions of a creature with many yellow eyes.

they secure the aid of the drensala vis and its captain, adella to weather looming storm and go after uk'otoa. they get a long rest and just approach the edge of the worst of the storm as they wake up. as they enter the worst of it, fjord casts underwater breathing on the nein and the crew of the ship and jester casts waterwalk. she also casts control weather to try to calm down the storm a little bit.

Tidal waves assail the ship, but thanks to Jester’s water walk, they can get close to Uk’otoa and attack the various portions of his serpentine body. The numerous eyes are harder to hit, but striking them keeps his fury at bay, which causes lightning attacks when the fury builds. Attacks rain down on Uk’otoa from the Mighty Nein. Caleb polymorphs into a blue dragon and Fjord casts cone of cold, freezing various sections of the body in the water.

the nein harry the sea leviathan. one of many clutch moments being beau being able to give uk'otoa vulnerability to lightning, making dragon!caleb's attacks more lethal. the biggest clutch moment coming from the queen herself. jester sent out her duplicates the turn before and when the group needed it most, she cast mass heal, getting all 7 of them nearly back to full health.

uk'otoa's health continues to diminish. with two swipes of her sword, yasha nearly ends the leviathan. there's a whole team joint-attack, but ultimately, the killing blow goes to fjord.

the serpent falls beneath the waves, but he still needs to be locked away - for good. now a dragon turtle, caleb takes fjord far below the water, and with a boon given to him in the temple, fjord seals uk'otoa in the depths of the sea. As the runes spread over Uk’otoa’s body, he and Fjord are yanked to the bottom of the ocean. Soon, the body vanishes and three new Cloven Crystals float in the water, restarting the cycle anew. Fjord grabs the crystals and casts far step, returning to Caleb. They return to the surface together and reunite with the Nein.

Fjord takes the Cloven Crystals and sends them to separate locations. One goes to the volcano in Rumblecusp, one goes to the Cobalt Soul, and Fjord keeps the third location secret.

epilogue: Jester is the arts and crafts teacher at veth's summer camp, finding a love for it and opens her own art studio in Nicodranas – Dicks and Other Things. Her graffiti becomes famous around Wildemount. (a la banksy)

and that's the uk'otoa two shot! holy cow, this is much longer than i expected it to be, so i'm glad i'm leaving out the solstice oneshot for now. i'll do that in a month or so when i decide to update her memories lol.

[gibberishquestion]

hi I hope I’m not bothering you but!! I’ve been listening to chess (the original recording w murray head and elaine paige) and I really like it!! I’ve listened to the whole thing a few times but I can’t quite get a grasp on the plot, and google isn’t helping haha. can you please give a summary, maybe song by song or something? only if you want to tho!! feel free to ignore this no worries! I just thought I’d ask you cause you’re the chess mutual TM :]

THIS TURNED OUT SUPER SUPER LONG IM SOOO SORRY

YES YES YES IM THE CHESS MUTUAL >:D asking me about chess makes me POWERFUL!! you’re not bothering me at ALL. the plot varies from production to production, thank you for specifying which one you’re listening to! i’ll give a song by song summary as best i can but know that i have the reading comprehension of a slice of cheese

i’ll be referring to the main characters as “the russian” and “the american” bc thats what the original album does ^_^

merano — opening number, not super plot relevant. the citizens of merano, italy are all happy that their town is the setting of the chess championship. in the middle of the song the american chess champion shows up and sings about what a good chess player he is.

the russian and molokov — introduces, well, the russian challenger, and his second, molokov. this is just a little conversation between them about the american. it makes more sense if you listen to “press conference”, which is a bonus track on the original album, where the american throws a fit and assaults a reporter. but basically molokov is like “see? this dude is fucked” and the russian is like Doubt, and it turns into a conversation about the championship as a whole: molokov views it as a way for the soviet union to assert its dominance over the usa, and the russian is like dude i’m a chess player not a politician

where i want to be — the russian’s first solo number. he reflects on his life in general and how he’s technically gotten everything he ever wanted, but it’s all empty victories. he’s fully aware of his status as a pawn to the ussr.

opening ceremony — a lot happens in this one, and it’s split up into separate tracks in most albums. “the arbiter” introduces the arbiter who’ll be presiding over the matches and ruling the chessboard with an iron fist. “difficult and dangerous times” is a song that i think perfectly encapsulates the spirit of the whole musical: it’s just a game, sure, but neither country wants to be the one that couldn’t even win a game. “the merchandisers” doesn’t move the plot at all but it serves as a little jab at capitalism i guess? basically its just a bunch of people trying to make money off the game. “hymn to chess” is just a little hymn to chess, i guess. sort of like how they always sing the national anthem before a sporting match?

quartet (a model of decorum and tranquility) — between the last song and this one, the first match started, but it never finished, because the american flipped the board and stormed out. this song shows the russian, molokov, the arbiter, and the american’s second florence bickering about what the hell just happened. also the russian calls the american a fruit which isn’t super important but like

the american and florence — florence confronts the american about his behavior. in an incredibly dickish move if i may say, the american turns the conversation to florence’s dead father: “well the ussr killed your dad, didnt they? and i’m against the ussr in this chess match. so by opposing me youre really betraying your dead dad.”

nobody’s side — florence’s first solo number. she reflects on her relationship with the american (which is strictly professional in some productions and explicitly romantic in others; it varies) and how she can’t justify the way he treats her. she comes to the conclusion that she can’t trust him or really anyone; she’s looking out for florence first and foremost.

chess — instrumental :) this tune comes up whenever a chess game is played. over the span of this instrumental break the russian gains a lead of five games to one, which is bad news for the american because the first man to six wins claims the championship.

mountain duet — florence arranges a meeting between herself and both the players, but the american is running late. alone with just the russian, the two of them realize and accept that they have feelings for each other. in a scene that doesn’t appear in this album, the american finally shows up and is naturally very pissed

florence quits — exactly what it says on the tin; florence quits working for the american. the american is obviously mad about this, and is sexist at her for two minutes and 56 seconds

embassy lament — the american has resigned, making the russian world champion. he immediately defects from the ussr to england, with florence. this song is just the consul officers at the embassy being difficult little shits

anthem — the russian explains how “his land’s only borders lie around his heart” and even as he leaves the soviet union he’s still very proudly russian. this ends the first act.

bangkok / one night in bangkok — one year has passed. the next championship is to be held in bangkok, thailand. the american may not be in the game anymore, but he’s employed by global television to report on the championship. this song isn’t super plot relevant but lord if it isn’t catchy.. basically he just shows up in bangkok and rejects all the exciting nightlife in favor of chess. (some productions play the lyrics as sarcasm, with the american enthusiastically having sex with random people and doing coke n shit while claiming his every move’s among the purest)

heaven help my heart — florence reflects on her relationship wifh the russian. she’s afraid of what’s going to happen once the infatuation ends and she’s not something new and exciting for him to play with.

argument — oh, did i mention the russian left a wife in the ussr? cause he left a wife in the ussr. molokov is bringing her out to bangkok. florence is very distressed about all this and the russian is like “the soviet union has played me like a fiddle all my life this is obviously just a trick to mess with me. no biggie. stop worrying. shut up”

i know him so well — a duet between florence and the russian’s wife. the two of them sing about both of their failed relationships with the russian, and how now they know him well enough to know both their relationships were doomed from the start.

the deal (no deal) — molokov wants the russian to throw the match to prove a point about the challenger, a loyal soviet, being a better player than the defecting traitor. so he dangles florence’s father in front of him and says he was alive the whole time in prison, lose the game and i’ll let him out! but he doesn’t say this to him directly, he has the american deliver the message to both the russian and to florence. (in later productions molokov’s character is split into both him and an american, walter de courcey, who’s the one to push the american into this. i think it makes more sense that way, personally.)

pity the child — the american looks at his childhood, and how much of his assholery is due to mommy issues. he finally gets some depth to his character after being a hate sink for an act and a half

endgame — it’s the final match between the russian and the soviet challenger. it’s unclear how much of this song is actually happening and how much of it just represents what’s going on in the russian’s head. but ultimately, he decides that he’s not going to be a pawn to the ussr anymore, so he’s going to win the game. screw florence, screw his wife, he’s doing what he wants.

epilogue: you and i / the story of chess — the russian and florence look back on their relationship. did florence get reunited with her father or was molokov lying, you ask? the concept album leaves it ambiguous. oh yeah and then it ends with an ahistorical tale about the invention of chess

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

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Total Eclipse Of The Heart (Part Five)

Jacob Black x Fem!Vampire!Swan!Reader

Summary: Jacob Black, alpha of his pack, would never fall in love with a bloodsucker, much less imprint on one. The problem is that Y/N Swan was human…until she wasn’t anymore.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The bike works for a while, Bella can see Edward; until she gets good at operating the vehicle. After that the danger is gone and so is any version of him.

Jacob and Y/N are hunting Victoria. Charlie is hunting the wolves, who he still believes to be bears, responsible for the killings around town.

Bella’s alone again.

She decides to try something new, to get that rush of adrenaline. Cliff jumping is about as stupid as it is recreational. But Edward is there, begging her not to jump. So she does, anything to make him stay.

———————————————————————

“She’s freezing cold. I can’t touch her.”

“Relax. Human hot box, remember? I hope you don’t mind, I’m gonna have to give her mouth to mouth.”

“Jake,” thwack.

Beyond the voices, Bella can feel pressure. Like someone is pounding on her chest, commanding her heart to beat.

“Come on Bella. Breathe.”

With a sputtering inhale she chokes up the water that invaded her lungs.

“Bella!”

The brunette opens her eyes just in time to see her sister reach for her and then remember her temperature, dropping both hands back to her sides.

“I’m ok,” Bella tells her, through chattering teeth.

“What the hell were you doing?” Y/N demands, tossing a blanket around her shoulders.

Jacob lifts Bella from the sand to lean against him, soaking up his warmth.

“I just wanted to see something.” Bella looks away from Y/N. The venom has eaten away her contacts and she can see her now for what she truly is.

“We’ve gotta get her home.” Jacob says, lifting Bella with ease.

“Your eyes,” Bella tries to warn her.

“It’s ok,” Y/N shakes her head. “Dad’s not home. He’s over at the Clearwater’s.”

“Did something happen?” Bella wonders.

“Harry had a heart attack.” Jacob breathes, the words striking like a hot iron. “He didn’t make it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bella whispers to no one in particular.

“Let’s go,” Y/N jerks her chin in the direction of the road.

“I’ll run her,” the wolf offers.

“My truck,” Bella pushes feebly against his chest.

“I got it,” Y/N sighs, taking the keys. “You go, keep her warm.”

“On it.” Jacob nods, breaking into a sprint.

Y/N heads back to the truck, opening the door and waiting as it rattles to life. Her fingers curl over the steering wheel harshly, distorting it with the force of her grasp.

The phone buzzes to life in her pocket, not a number she recognizes. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s Edward.”

“Edward…” The Y/H/C nearly short circuits.

“Is Bella alright?” He asks immediately.

How did he know? “Now you care what happens to Bella?”

“Y/N please-“

“No,” she cuts him off. “Edward, you left. You left and you didn’t care. I mean where the hell have you been? Where were you while I was here picking up the pieces?”

“I’m sorry.” Edward grovels, the way she had on the front lawn of the Cullen’s home after Bella’s birthday party. “It was a mistake.”

“Your sorry means nothing to me.” Y/N ends the call. Tossing the phone to the passenger seat. Her foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor.

Arriving home at record speed, she finds a black car in the driveway. Carlisle’s car. Parking the truck, she jots through the front door.

Alice, Jacob and Bella are deep in conversation.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks Alice.

“I had a vision of Bella jumping off a cliff. I didn’t see her get pulled out of the water-“ Alice breaks off. Her eyes fluttering, then she gasps.

“What now?” Jacob runs a hand over his face.

“It’s Edward, he thinks Bella’s dead.” Alice chokes out. “He’s going to the Volturi, he wants to die too.”

“What?” Bella’s entire body lurches forward.

“Rosalie told him why I came here. Then Y/N-“

“You spoke to him?” Bella cuts Alice off. “What did you say?”

“I told him to screw himself. Not kill himself.” Y/N says defensively.

“Y/N!” Bella is hysterical.

She never meant for this to happen. “Tell me where he is and how to get there.”

“What are you gonna do?” Jacob leans in, his fingers closing around her wrist.

“I have to go,” Y/N rolls her eyes at the ridiculous nature of the situation, “save Edward.”

Jacob’s face falls into a scowl, “no, no way in hell.”

“Jake-“

“The Volturi, isn’t that some kind of vampire judge and jury situation? The ones you’re so afraid of that you can’t even tell Charlie what happened to you?” Jacob can put up with a lot, and he has. But this…

“Jacob, I know that this sucks.” Y/N pulls him away from Alice and Bella for a shred of privacy. “But it’s my fault. I have to make it right.”

“Stop blaming yourself for his shitty decisions!” Jacob roars, “it’s not your fault that he left, it’s not your fault that he didn’t come back and it’s not your fault that you told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

Y/N takes step back, “please don’t.”

“Please don’t what?” Jake snarls, closing the distance between them. “Tell you the truth?”

“Please don’t hate me for what I’m about to do.” Y/N pleads, allowing his fingers to sear her skin.

“If you die…” he strokes her jaw reverently, “I’ll kill you.”

“I love you so much,” she turns into his palm and presses gentle kisses there.

Jacob lets his hand fall away as they break apart. “What do you want me to tell Charlie?”

“Last minute girls trip or something,” Y/N shrugs.

“How long will you be gone?” Jacob wants to say it back. That he loves her.

Y/N looks to Alice.

“Three days, round trip.” The pixie tells them.

Bella has already gone up to pack.

“Perfect,” Jacob acknowledges. Keeping the words to himself.

———————————————————————

The plan ride to Italy is tense. Bella hardly sleeps, she is a nervous wreck.

Alice is flooded with vision after vision as she watches Edward and the Volturi’s decisions.

Y/N plucks anxiously at the wolf charm on her wrist.

The car Alice steals is a beautiful canary yellow color. It shifts gears like butter and glides over the road.

“The Volturi refused him.” Alice says, surprise and relief in her voice.

“Should you be driving?” Y/N wonders, there’s no way she can concentrate with the future flashing before her eyes.

“You can channel for me” Alice offers. There is no time to stop.

Y/N closes her eyes, willing the visions to come to her. “He’s waiting until noon, when the sun’s at it’s highest. Then he’s going to reveal himself to the humans.”

“Alice, you gotta hurry up.” Bella pleads, tugging at the roots of her hair.

“Bella,” Alice coos, “breathe.”

Y/N opens her mind, but Edward is decided, so nothing changes. Until something unexpected appears.

Jacob. He’s seated on their living room couch, shooting the breeze with Charlie. Clearly waiting for something as his eyes flicker to the clock repeatedly. Her, Y/N realizes, he’s waiting for her.

“What did you see?”

“It wasn’t Edward, don’t worry.” Y/N drawls. Just her letting down the most important person in her life…again.

The crowd surrounding Volterra is massive, Alice cuts through as much as she can with the stolen Porsche, but eventually Bella has to make a run for it. To the clock tower at the center of the festival before Edward exposes himself in the sunlight. She is the only one Edward can’t see coming.

“So, what now?” Y/N demands.

“What did you see?” Alice asks instead.

“Doesn’t matter.” The Y/H/C shakes her head. “We can’t just sit here-“

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Alice steals a glance at her. “Jacob?”

“Does he always look so miserable in your visions,” she wonders.

“I can’t see him.” The other vampires admits, “the wolves are a blind spot.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure.” Alice’s brows furrow, the visions are back in her own head. “We have to go.”

The two of them weave through the festival, skin covered from the sun that shines bright overhead. Finally taking shelter in a door off the alley way.

“Come on guys,” Alice pulls the scarf from her head as they enter. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

The ‘guys’ in question have glowing red eyes, their diet is strictly human blood.

Bella is against the wall, with Edward between her and the two men wearing black cloaks.

“No we certainly wouldn’t.” The shorter blonde man purrs. “Aro requests your presence.”

“Bella,” Edward addresses her, “why don’t you go back out and enjoy the festival?”

“All of you,” the larger man clarifies.

A third vampire joins them, a girl with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. “Aro sent me to see what’s taking so long.”

“So no festival?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“I’m afraid not.” The girl gives her a tight lipped grin. “Right this way.”

The four of them are led down a long corridor to a stair case, then to an elevator.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

Edward’s eyes, dark with thirst, cut to Y/N. Bella tucked securely beneath his arm.

‘Sorry,’ she mentally shoots back.

He turns his gaze ahead as the elevator doors open onto a checkered marble floor. The ceilings are high, adorned with paintings that put the Sistine chapel to shame.

“Don’t be afraid,” Edward whispers to Bella.

“Are you?” Bella stares up at him.

“No,” he lies.

They land at double doors, pushed open to reveal three more men, seated in high back chairs that resemble thrones.

The one in the center moves to stand, the other brunette and blonde vampires can’t be bothered.

“What a happy surprise!” The man rejoices, “Bella is alive after all. And you’ve brought a friend.”

“I’m just here for moral support.” Y/N explains, jerking her thumb at Bella, “she’s my sister.”

Aro looks her over, “welcome…”

“Y/N,” she introduces herself.

Aro steps forward then, taking Edward’s hand from Bella’s into his own.

“Aro can read every thought I’ve ever had with a single touch.” Edward tells them.

“You are quite a soul reader yourself Edward. Although you can’t hear Bella’s thoughts.” Aro remarks, “would you do me the honor?” He extends a hand to Bella.

Warily she steps forward, allowing him to encase her hand with both of his.

“How strange,” Aro pulls away after a moment. “I see nothing. I wonder if…let us see if she is immune to all our powers, Jane.”

“No,” Edward protests, jumping in front of Bella.

“Pain,” the blonde girl murmurs, a satisfied smirk spreading across her features as Edward falls to the ground. He writhes silently at Bella’s feet.

“Stop! Please.” Bella yells, “stop hurting him.”

Aro watches her in fascination, allowing the torture to continue for a moment. “Jane.”

“Master?” The girl says.

Edward relaxes with a grunt.

“Go ahead my darling,” Aro motions to Bella.

“This might hurt just a little,” Jane warns.

But Bella feels nothing.

“Remarkable.” Aro marvels, “she confounds us all. So, what do we do with you now?”

“She knows too much, she’s a liability.” The blonde man on the right croons, from his chair.

“That’s true.” Aro replies, “Felix.”

“No,” Edward flips Bella behind him, having read his thoughts.

Alice seen Aro’s decision to have Bella killed.

And Y/N catches on quickly enough. Stepping in front of her sister.

Alice is restrained by the short blonde haired guard and Edward is wrestling with the larger vampire, which eventually leaves Edward on the ground.

Y/N’s never engaged in combat, but fight or flight is still a thing. She’s stronger and faster than anyone in the room, perks of being a newborn. She uses it to her advantage.

Fending off every attack the guard throws at her. But she is wreckless, untrained in her youth. Eventually she is restrained, with a hand at her throat.

The exchange gives Edward enough time to recover, he comes back swinging. For Bella. Anything for her.

Felix is strong. Edward is going to lose and her sister is going to die.

Y/N does the only thing she can do, “pain.”

The large man twists inhumanly at the crippling pain coursing through him.

Aro’s mouth sits slightly agape, watching in wonder as Edward returns to his feet.

“Call him off and I’ll stop,” Y/N jerks her chin toward Felix.

“Let us discuss this in a civilized manner.” Aro tries to defuse the situation.

“Tell your men to stop trying to kill my sister,” Y/N tosses the guard’s hand from her neck. “Then we discuss.”

“Felix, stand down.” Aro orders.

Y/N releases the man from her clutches, hearing him struggle to regain composure.

“You have the most peculiar scent.” Aro comments, “come.” He holds a hand out, “let me see.”

Y/N steps toward him, allowing his palm to rest under hers.

His eyes fall closed as he weaves through the facets of her memories. From birth to death and after life. “Ahh,” Aro coos.

Y/N resists the urge to pull away.

“Your gift is…untouched.” The things she could do, if only- “I can teach you.”

“Let my sister go,” Y/N repeats.

“So young, so much control.” Aro remarks. “To have resisted her blood twice within the first year. You are magnificent.” He smiles, drunk on the idea of harnessing the power she possesses. “You could join us.”

“I have someone waiting for me.” Y/N declines the offer.

“The child of the moon.” Aro recalls the boy from her mind. Dark hair, bright smile, “you love him impossibly so, against everything in your nature. It makes my heart ache.”

“Consorting with a werewolf?” Caius rushes to his feet. “Our sworn enemy?”

“This is different brother,” Aro stops him. If only he earns the young vampire’s trust, all that power will be his. “They have no qualms with us, nor each other. Misfortune has befallen them, much like our young friends Bella and Edward. This is a sadness.”

“You already know what you’re going to do, Aro. Let us be done with this.” Marcus motions dismissively.

“If only it were your intention to change her.” Aro addresses Edward now.

“Bella will be one of us.” Alice interrupts, “I’ve seen it. I’ll change her myself.”

Aro steps away from Y/N, to where Alice stands. Whatever she shows him must be proof enough. They’re free to go. For now.

———————————————————————-

The plane ride home is awkward. Both better and worse that the flight there.

“Thank you, for what you did.” Edward breaks the silence, as Bella sleeps peacefully against his shoulder. “Only it wasn’t smart. Aro has taken interest now, he’ll try to win you over.”

“Better men have tried.” Y/N turns her nose up at the idea, and him.

“I’m not going to push for your forgiveness. Or hers.” He looks over at Bella, “I’m going to earn it.”

“Sure.” The Y/H/C crosses her arms, “holding my breath.”

“Good thing you don’t need air.” Edward cracks a smile.

“Can you not pick my brain right now? I need to think.” Y/N tries to refocus. “Alone.”

“Jacob will forgive you.” Edward ignores her comment.

“Jacob always forgives me.” She whispers, “I want to deserve it this time.”

Edward nods in understanding. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

If he hears anything else he doesn’t comment on it. Falling into a comfortable silence.

Y/N is largely on autopilot until they make it home.

Charlie rushes out onto the porch at the sound of a car engine. “There you are.”

“Hi, Dad.” Y/N steps up to hug him.

Charlie kisses the top of her head, returning the embrace. “Jacob said it was a girls trip.” He’s not thrilled to see Edward.

“It was supposed to be,” Y/N pulls away. “He surprised us.”

“She does look better though, doesn’t she?” Charlie notes, seeing Bella.

“Yeah,” as much as Y/N hates to admit it, she agrees.

“Go on. He’s been waiting for ya.” Charlie nods toward the house. “I’m gonna have a word with Edward.”

“Ok,” Y/N takes the stairs two at a time. “Don’t be too hard on him though.” She calls after her father. “He’s been through hell too.”

Charlie squints at her, hoping she will elaborate but knowing she won’t.

“Honey, I’m home.” Y/N sings into the living room.

Jacob doesn’t say a word. Just makes his way to her and wraps her up in his arms. Inhaling the scent at the crook of her neck, deeply. “Never thought I’d miss your stink.”

Y/N takes a whiff of her own. “The wet dog and earthy tones are starting to smell like home.”

“Yeah.” He feels it too.

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs against his shoulder.

“Sounds like a loaded question already.” Jacob can hear it in her voice.

“How much of you staying here is because of the imprint? How much of it is your soul needing mine? And how much of it is just Jake?”

“I guess I-“ he breaks off. “I’ll never really know for sure. But I think the Jacob I’ve been my whole life would stay. Imprint Jacob would have no choice but to please you. And my soul just wants to be close to yours, anyway it can.”

“Do you ever wish you could un-imprint?” If that’s even a word. “I hate the thought of you chipping away parts of yourself…to please me.”

Jacob nuzzles her forehead with his own. “I’m lucky that I got to imprint on someone who loves me. Someone I didn’t have to change for. Being with you is easy, like breathing.”

“I want to give you more than I take.” Y/N tells him.

“I can feel you,” heart and soul, “how much you love me.”

“You can,” the vampire tenses, “feel me?”

“I know how guilty you feel for leaving, how scared you are that you’ll have to do it again.” Jacob places her hand over his heart. “I’ll wait.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” she argues. “You’re already giving away too much.”

“Stop beating yourself up. I can handle you. Have little faith.”

“I have faith in you.” That was never the problem.

“Give yourself some credit too.” He taps her chin, “quit brooding.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” Jacob holds Y/N at arms length, “now tell me everything. What’d I miss on the trip of a lifetime?”

“Well Alice stole a car.” She starts with the fun part. “Porsche I think, crazy fast. You would’ve loved it.”

———————————————————————-

The night they return from Italy, Bella insists that her mortality be put up for a vote. The Cullens gather around the staircase in their home, calling for Y/N and Jacob as well.

“You are part of this family, Y/N.” Carlisle rests a hand on her shoulder. “Jacob is your mate. Bella is your sister. You have a say in this.”

Jacob votes no.

Y/N votes not to vote. Only expressing her opinion based on her own experience. “I know what it feels like to have your choices taken away. I won’t do it to you.”

Life goes on. Y/N visits the reservation often. Like Jacob promised, everyone is coming around.

Graduation is right around the corner. Bella is waiting until after to become a vampire. Hoping it’ll be easier on Charlie.

He’s definitely not going to let it go a second time. He’ll demand answers that they won’t be able to give. They’ll have to leave. All of them.

Billy can see how much Y/N is wrestling with the decision. “In your heart you know that this is the best thing for everyone. Why are you hellbent on torturing yourself?”

“I’m not,” she shakes her head.

“You and Jake will get each other through.” Billy isn’t worried about that.

“What about my Dad?” He’ll be devastated.

Billy sighs, resting a hand on her shoulder. “What’d you want me to say kid?”

“Give me another choice.” She covers his fingers with her own.

“You having a pity party without me?” Jacob catches them, leaning heavily against the doorframe of his childhood kitchen.

“You were sleeping.” Y/N sniffs, breaking away from Billy. “I made you breakfast. Pancakes, French toast, eggs, bacon, sausage and-“

“And?” Jacob perks up.

“Chocolate chips muffins for dessert.”

“You’re trying to butter me up, huh?” Jacob grins, making his way to the breakfast table. “It’s working. Just give it to me straight.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Billy excuses himself.

“The Cullens are having a graduation party for Bella.” Y/N watches the wolf take a bit of food from each dish.

“Just Bella?” Jacob arches a brow.

She huffs, reaching into her bag for the formal invite.

‘Congrats Grad!’

‘Please join us to celebrate, Alice, Jasper, Bella, Edward, Y/N and Jacob.’

‘R.S.V.P. To Alice or Esme Cullen.’

“Wow,” Jacob takes it all in. “They shouldn’t have.”

“They gave them to half of Forks high school.” Y/N explains, “most of my senior class remembers you as my hot boyfriend from a different school.”

“I am your hot boyfriend from a different school.” There is no denying it.

Y/N bites her lip. “They gave me a handful of invites for you too. If you want…”

“Really trying to push the whole ‘happy family’ agenda.” Jacob takes the stack of envelopes.

“It’ll only get worse if we indulge them.”

“In a few months they’ll be the only people we know.” Jacob reminds her. “Should probably get used to it.”

Y/N nods, turning her gaze out the window. “The younger we start out in a new place the longer we get to stay.”

“So high school again.” Jacob laughs humorlessly. “Can’t wait.”

“I want to stay in Forks.” Y/N forces out the words. “I want to stay with my Dad.”

“Baby,” Jacob breathes. That’s one thing he can’t give her.

“But it doesn’t matter what I want. Bella has to turn. We have to move on.” Y/N squares her shoulders. “Just let me sulk a little.”

“Sulk away, beautiful.” Jacob takes a bite of scrambled eggs. “Just pass the salt first.”

Series Taglist: @remembered-license @itscheybaby

Part 6

[scribbling-dragon]

Double Life prompt: what if Cleo and Martyn got along, or at least didn't totally hate each other? I love these two sm

passive-aggressive apologies

Summary:

“You're an idiot.” It’s the first thing she can think of when she faces Martyn, and the way he blinks at her, completely surprised as thought this wasn't utterly deserved was definitely worth it.

“I- what?” He continues to stare at her, as though she’s grown another head. Which she hasn't. But he continues to look at her like that anyway.

“You're an idiot.” She reiterates.

(AO3 Link)

(787 words)

i dont really know what i think of this one, i like both of them but the characterisation feels a bit off, but i cant figure out why (also, sorry that it's a bit shorter than some of the others)

(friendly reminder that reblogs help more than likes!)

“You're an idiot.” It’s the first thing she can think of when she faces Martyn, and the way he blinks at her, completely surprised as thought this wasn't utterly deserved was definitely worth it.

“I- what?” He continues to stare at her, as though she’s grown another head. Which she hasn't. But he continues to look at her like that anyway.

“You're an idiot.” She reiterates.

“How?” His voice pitches a little and he laughs. “How am I an idiot?”

“We went around the whole server,” she spreads her arms out, gesturing to the whole server, and he follows the movement, “Looking for our soulmates, which, surprise! That’s you. And you just fucked off somewhere else?”

“We didn't think of that.” He looks over to the side, where Scott and Pearl are having a much similar conversation, albeit much quieter. She doesn't miss the plea in Martyn’s eyes as he stares at the side of Pearl’s head, as though sheer willpower will be enough to make her turn and look at him. “We were, uh, occupied with other things?”

Even he doesn't sound confident on that, and she simply regards him, watching as his eyes dart back to Pearl again. The fear of god look he keeps aiming at her is great and all, but an apology would be nice too.

“You were occupied with exploring the Deep Dark and the Nether?” She clarifies, “Both extremely dangerous places, without considering the person that’s linked to you through pain?”

“You make it sound bad when you put it like that.” He frowns at her.

“It sounds bad whatever way you put it.” She sighs, wishing she’d just gone with her first plan and killed him. It would be a lot easier than whatever conversation they're currently having. 

Martyn doesn't have a response to that and she looks over at Scott, hoping he’s suffering just as much as she is- nope. He’s hugging Pearl and she’s apologising. When she looks back to Martyn he’s watching them too.

“Getting some inspiration?” She asks, and he looks back at her, startled, as though he forgot she was there.

“Inspiration?” She takes back anything she said about Scar or Jimmy, she’s pretty certain Martyn’s the worst soulmate actually. The only reassurance she’s got right now is the frantic beating of his heart, like a trapped mouse. He’s terrified, sure, but that’s not really forthcoming with any apologies.

“For your apology.”

“You want me to apologise?” He sounds genuinely confused, and she can hear Scott laughing at her goddamnit. She shoots him a glare from the corner of her eye, watching as it only makes him laugh harder, stifling them behind his hand as though he’s having a coughing fit.

“Yes.” She grits out. “Pearl apologised to Scott, so you're going to apologise to me.”

“What for?”

“Christ, Martyn, do you have to have everything spelled out for you?” He just stares at her, which suggests that yes, he does have to have everything spelled out for him. She thought he was smart. “You went to places that hurt, I can feel your pain, and you didn't even seem to consider that, yes?”

He nods.

“And you caught on fire several times. Who do you reckon felt that pain as well?”

Finally, a light comes on his eyes, as though someone’s just come home and started occupying his brain again. “You want me to apologise for going to the Nether?” He manages. Pearl’s started laughing now too, louder and less apologetic than Scott.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” He grins. “I can do that,” he steps closer to her, grabbing one of her hands in his own. She allows it, staring down at him as he puts on his best smile. “I'm incredibly sorry for any of the hurt I may have caused you with my erroneous ways, can we please move on so those two can stop laughing at us?”

She suspects that’s going to be the best she gets out of him. “Apology accepted.” She turns to face Scott, who immediately looks away, trying to act like he hadn't been laughing even as a smile continues to tug at his lips.

“You better wipe that grin off your face,” she threatens, watching as Scott turns to her, mock wide eyes. Martyn releases her hand, and she takes a step in Scott’s direction, watching as he takes a step back, smirk widening.

“What are you going to do about it?” He goads.

“Come over there and wipe it off your face.” She takes another step closer and Scott takes another one back, looking more and more smug as she speaks.

“What about Pearl!” His voice pitches up into a shriek as she lunges after him.

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture

Word count: 2843

Part 3

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp @phoenixofash @marvels-bitch-boy @when-wolves-howl @bitterlime13 @hallecarey1 @orangewheein @unexpected-character

AN: I apologize if some tags don’t work! Tumblr can’t find some of your usernames.

After listening to Steve’s plan, all four of you—technically five, since Bucky had to tag along—take the Quinjet to Siberia. The goal was to break out the five soldiers in Bucky’s former task force and bring them back to the Avengers Tower, where there was the technology to free their minds from HYDRA. 

Each of you were armed with a mask which would spray a powerful sedative into the face it was applied to, keeping the victim unconscious until it was removed. It was the simplest solution to taking down the super soldiers—when Bucky had been skeptical, Natasha had slapped a mask on him and he was out before he hit the floor. You were pretty sure you pulled a muscle from laughing so hard.

Now, you and Natasha sat in the cockpit while the others sat behind you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky says suddenly.

“Yeah?” You don’t even look over your shoulder.

“I’m…sorry for shooting you.”

“Twice,” you clarify. “I didn’t forget the count.”

“Sorry,” he repeats.

“Well, as long as you don’t mistake me for Steve again, I’ll be okay,” you say with a chuckle.

“So, just to reiterate our plan, Bucky will be with me and Clint, and Nat, you’ll be with Y/N,” Steve says.

“Even Captain America knows better than to break up the power couple.” You grin and reach over to put your hand on her thigh. Without taking her eyes off the controls, she takes your hand and interlocks your fingers.

“Yeah, so you two just do your thing—” Steve catches himself. “Wait, not that kind of thing.”

Clint explodes into wheezy laughter and Natasha shakes her head, her cheeks reddening. You’re not embarrassed like she is, but you’re still quick to defend yourselves.

“It was one time!” you protest. It had been a mission where everything that could’ve gone wrong did, and you and Natasha were convinced it would be your last. You two decided to end it wrapped around each other, but then the rest of the Avengers had barged in and said there had been a miscommunication and it wasn’t the end of the world after all. It was the one mission you would never live down.

“Just keep it professional, please,” Steve begs. “No matter what happens, we’re all going home alive, okay?”

Bucky looks completely lost.

Natasha lands the Quinjet in a flurry of snow and all of you exit the warmth of the plane.

“I should’ve brought one of your hoodies,” she mumbles, walking as close to you as she can without tripping you. 

“It would’ve clashed with your uniform,” you say, putting your arm around her waist. The super soldier serum in your veins causes you to run a higher-than-average body temperature. You feel as comfortable as if you stepped out of hot shower.

The facility is the only building for miles. It looks big enough to fit a space rocket and has a dull, concrete exterior. The only security is a chain-link fence with a frozen padlock that Steve breaks open with his shield. You file through the gate, and Bucky inputs a code into the door to grant everyone entry. The interior is just as disappointing as the outside. Nothing but a maze of concrete halls with metal doors. The ceiling has dripping water stains and an uncomfortably musty, moldy smell hangs in the air.

“I bet you’re really glad you escaped this rust bucket,” you say to Bucky. He only shakes his head.

“Stay alert,” Steve advises. “We’ll split here. Keep us updated on your position and if you find anyone.”

“Copy that.” You and Natasha turn right while the others turn left. She finds a flight of stairs and you follow behind her. You unholster your gun, holding it at the ready by your side. Natasha makes random turns and ignores every room you walk by. You listen intently for any sort of noise that would indicate a person lurking in the shadows, but so far, there’s nothing.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” you ask.

“Do you?” she snaps.

“Hey, I’m just following you.” You back off. Even though you know this is no time to be making jokes, you still can’t help yourself. High-stress situations make you nervous, especially when you’re with Natasha, because anything that could happen to you could happen to her.

When you pass by a room with its door open, you see a large glass tank big enough to fit a human and filled with murky green water. For a reason you can’t explain, you feel yourself drawn towards it and you step into the room, a chill raising goosebumps on your skin. You reach out to touch the tank’s wall and close your eyes.

You’re floating in a tank of your own, tubes running out of your nose, mouth, and down every limb. You jerk around wildly in the water tinged pink with your blood. Your lungs seize for air, but every breath you inhale is wet and salty.

“Shall we go another round?” you hear someone on the other side say.

“Might as well. No pain, no gain, right?” someone replies.

You want to bash your hands against the glass, but you’re too weak to have any control over your movements. You feel a sharp pain in your lower back, at the base of your spine, and your body arches as more drugs are pumped into you. You have no breath to scream with as your body twists in agony. It feels like a fire eating you from the inside out, burning through your bones, and you want nothing more than to wither away to ash...

“Hey.” You jump when you feel Natasha’s hand on your shoulder. “What are you doing in here?”

“Um, I…I thought I heard something,” you lie. Natasha frowns. Like Steve and Bucky, you had been a lab rat yourself, although not to SHIELD or HYDRA. You had been passed around other government agencies—at least, that’s what you think. Most of your memories of that time were fuzzy, which you were fine with. The ones you did remember weren’t worth reliving anyway.

“Y/N.” Natasha looks concerned.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” You don’t want to interrupt the mission with your personal problems.

She knows better than to push you, especially at a time like this. “Okay,” she says, leaving the room. You take a minute to collect yourself. When you finally turn around, you see a black-haired woman, shorter than Natasha even, standing in the doorway in the same vest Bucky had worn the first time you met him.

“Hello,” you say, holstering your gun. You’re not going to shoot someone who looks like she’s barely of age. “You must be one of the super soldiers Bucky told me about. Who was your target supposed to be? Romanoff?” you tease.

“Thor.” The woman’s voice is dainty. Her body is literally the size of one of Thor’s arms. There’s no way she’s telling the truth.

You laugh. “That’s cute. But this is no place for a kid,” you say, walking towards her. But she sees that you’re too casual, your guard let down too low, and takes advantage of that. “Now all I need is for you to put this mask on and—”

The woman launches at you with a speed you don’t even process. She swipes your legs out from under you, causing you to crash on your back. Then she’s on top of you, hands around your throat. You reach into your pocket for your knife, all jokes lost with her attempt to take your life.

You flip the blade out and swing at her face, but she’s quick to dodge and rolls to the side. You jump to your feet, wondering where Natasha is. But you’re too embarrassed to call for her help, even if this soldier claims she was given the task of taking out the god of thunder.

The woman is impossibly fast and she lands blow after blow on you while you stagger back and slash out helplessly with your knife. When she kicks you in the stomach and your back collides into the water tank, you’ve had enough. 

You switch your knife to your left hand and aim for the woman’s neck. She grabs your wrist and twists it around so the knife turns towards you. Your eyes widen as she puts her entire body weight behind the knife. The blade sinks into your shoulder.

“What the—” You don’t even register the pain, more upset that you’ve been harmed with your own weapon. The woman grins, distracted, and you punch her in the throat as hard as you can. Her eyes bulge and she coughs, her hands flying to her neck. 

You take the mask out of your pocket and shove it onto her face, hearing the hiss as the sedative is instantly released. The woman immediately goes limp and you have no problem letting her drop to the floor.

“Y/N!” You look up and see Natasha staring at you, arms crossed over her chest.

“I got one.” You puff out your chest proudly.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Natasha comes over and inspects the soldier’s limp body.

“I didn’t need to. I handled her all by myself,” you say, a little annoyed by her doubt in your abilities.

“Is that a knife in your shoulder?” she asks.

“I…Oh, yeah—” 

“Is that your knife?” Being called out hurts more than the actual pain of having the knife in your shoulder.

“Uh…maybe…” You can’t even look her in the eye.

“Y/N,” Natasha growls. “Here, let me take it out.”

You back up until you hit the tank again. “Wait, shouldn’t we—ow!” you yelp as Natasha jerks the knife out.

“You’ve been through worse.” She tries to hand you the knife, but you shake your head, too embarrassed to continue carrying it with you since you obviously can’t be trusted with it. She shrugs and pockets your knife, taking out some gauze and tape to patch up your wound. You rotate your left arm in circles; besides an uncomfortable twinge, it works fine. 

“So, what do we do with her body?” you ask.

“We’ll come back. We need to find the other three first.”

“Three? I thought there were four.” You try to do the math in your head. Bucky had said there five super soldiers, and you had just defeated one, meaning there were four left—

“Three,” Natasha repeats and you look at her in confusion. “Mine’s outside.” Unlike you, there wasn’t a single scratch on her. Together, you leave the room and find a man slumped on the floor, a mask on his face.

“When did this happen?” you ask.

Natasha shrugs, but you can tell she’s extremely proud of herself. “When you were busy dealing with that little girl.”

“Excuse me. According to her, her target was Thor,” you say. “So, I just took out the soldier who was supposed to take down the god of thunder.”

“Yeah, you can keep telling yourself that.” Natasha nudges you playfully.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes.

“Hey, are you two okay?” Steve asks in your earpiece.

“We disabled two soldiers on the second floor,” Natasha responds.

“Perfect. We got two down here as well.”

“Who did you take out?” Clint asks.

“This tiny woman and a guy,” you answer.

“How big was the guy?” Bucky asks.

“Maybe around your size?” you estimate, staring down at the soldier Natasha subdued.

“Okay, because the two we took out were also average-sized dudes. The last one—I was hoping it wouldn’t come down to this—he’s an absolute beast. I think he’s almost seven-feet tall and could bench press a plane with one hand,” Bucky says.

“So whoever takes him out wins,” you say. Between you and Natasha, you were certain you could win any fight.

“You’re on,” Clint says.

Natasha and you leave the soldiers where they lay and search the rest of the floor. This time, you take the lead, a little more cautious since you know what to expect. You head up to the third floor, expecting the last soldier to jump out at any moment. The tension of waiting to find him is almost unbearable and your muscles ache from being coiled so tightly.

“You guys find him yet?” Natasha asks through the earpieces.

“Negative.”

Suddenly, a moving shadow catches your eye and you throw out your arm to stop Natasha. A man steps out from around the corner and Bucky wasn’t lying about his size. He’s so tall the top of his head disappears behind the ceiling beams and he looks like he would sweep any bodybuilding competition he entered.

“Never mind, we found him. Third floor,” Natasha mumbles.

“Don’t engage him alone.” That’s Steve’s voice. “Try to stall—”

“Too late” you want to say as the man charges towards you. There is no way you two are taking him down without the use of any weapons; plus, you don’t have any more masks to use. But if you punched or kicked him, you wouldn’t be able to reach his face without catching airtime. You run backwards, fumbling with your options. An idea pops into your head.

“Maybe he has a safe word, too,” you say, crashing into Natasha and shoving her back. “Lizzie! Karen!” you scream the first names that come to you. “It could be a guy’s name—can’t assume anything, right? Chris! Tom! Mark!” The names have no effect other than making you look like an idiot.

“Shut up, Y/N—” Natasha hisses.

The man roars and reaches out, grabbing a fistful of your shirt. He throws you like a javelin and you can’t believe how far you fly, landing on your stomach and skidding another 30 feet.

Natasha tries engaging him, and although she’s faster than him, any punch or kick she lands goes completely unnoticed by him. The man flings her aside like a sack of flour and comes towards you.

You reach for your gun, but before you can bring it up, he kicks it out of your hand and stomps on it. The barrel literally flattens before your eyes, and you roll onto your back to face him. He lifts his foot, which is easily as big as your calf, and brings it down on your right knee.

CRUNCH.

The pain of your leg snapping in half is so blinding and nauseating you don’t even scream. It feels like someone is holding a blow torch to your bones and your entire body starts trembling in shock. The man scoops you up with an arm leveraged underneath your chin, and once you’re upright, you feel the lower half of your right leg dangling like a broken branch.

He lifts you high enough so your feet don’t touch the floor, leaving you scrabbling at his arm and choking on your saliva. Your vision flashes white and you feel the overwhelming urge to vomit as he spins you around to face Natasha.

She has her gun out, pointed at his head. “Put Y/N down,” she orders.

“And what if I don’t?” the man says in a voice that sounds like it came from the depths of the ocean. “You think you can shoot me before I can break a neck?” He squeezes you harder and you whimper.

Natasha pauses to think, and her eyes dart to the side before looking back at the man. “Okay, okay.” She sets her gun on the floor and raises her hands. “Just please don’t—”

“Kick it towards me.” The man crushes your windpipe like a straw and your eyes water.

Natasha reaches out with her foot and sends the gun spinning towards you and your captor. Suddenly, the man tosses you away and when you crumple on your broken leg, you swear you see purgatory. 

“Get on your knees,” the man tells Natasha. She doesn’t obey. “I said, get on your knees!” Very slowly, with a defiant look on her face, she drops to her knees one at a time. The man picks up her gun and holds it in front of her face. “I’ve been waiting years to finally meet you, Agent Romanoff.”

“Well, sorry for not coming around sooner.”

“My comrades may not have been successful in eliminating their targets, but I don’t fail,” the man says.

Natasha looks away from him to you. “I love you,” she calls, as casually as if you two were lounging on the couch watching a movie together.

You blink away tears to make eye contact with her. You can’t move, you have no weapons, and he has a gun pointed at her head. The complete helplessness you feel hurts more than your broken leg, more than Bucky’s gunshots had, more than any pain you’ve ever felt before. There’s a thousand things you want to tell her, but you only have time to say one.

“I love you t—”

But there isn’t even enough time for you to finish your sentence, because suddenly Natasha’s face is covered in blood.

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

Click here for Part 5!

[bethecowboyss]

Domicile - Chapter 1

“So, we’ve finally met”

Summary: You have been trapped inside dungeon walls for what feels like years, until one day a strange man appears in the dungeons to come and save you.

AN - IMPORTANT

So I just want to clarify that I have never actually seen Robin Hood prince of thieves. I have seen clips before and I briefly know about the plot and the setting of the movie as well as the tone. If I get anything wrong or I say something that doesn’t quite sound right it is because I’ve only seen clips of the movie. I have based his character in the clips but be seen and the fan fiction I’ve read so I apologize if any of this feels off. I will watch the movie soon, I just couldn’t help it and had to do a bit of writing before I did watch the movie. Regardless I hope you can enjoy this. I also apologize for any bad grammar, it took a long time writing this and right now I don’t feel like looking over the whole entire thing just to make sure that everything looks right. I will most likely fix it later.

——————————-

I had lived inside brick stone walls and cold cement floors for so long that I almost forgot what it felt like to breathe. What it felt like outside of cold grungy dungeons and running through fields, that feeling was far too foreign to me now for me to remember how it felt. I was hardly even twelve years old when I had made a foolish mistake, and got punished severely for a mere accident of a child. It was hard for me to remember my past, but it was even harder to

remember what happened yesterday or even a few minutes ago. When you're spending a majority of your life living out the same old pattern, it’s hard to tell how many years have passed or even what day it is. Every single day starts to blend together, and apart from when I experience something that’s too cruel to forget every single day feels like the last. But after living like this for so long I can hardly imagine being free. There's only one face that I can vividly remember from my childhood, and even their face is still a little bit blurry to me and hard for me to remember. But if that person was the one thing that I could hold onto for the rest of my life, then I'll do exactly that. I'd like to believe that they are important, but it could be that for some odd reason my brain just thought that they were the only thing we could remember.

From what I can see in my brain, they were small. Scrawny, at least shorter than me. They had brown hair, dark or light I can’t tell. Hazel or maybe a brown iris. They had shorter hair, shorter than shoulder length but not straight to the head. And I can almost always remember them smiling. Whenever we were together, we were always surrounded by what looked like nature. It was always trees and woodlands and grassy hills. But just once in a while I could remember a sunset. I think that one memory with them would have to be my favorite out of all of them, it was so vibrant compared to the rest. When I look back at that memory, I can actually see the colors. It’s so clear. It’s not like reminiscing on sunsets and strangers is gonna matter anyways, there's no point in wondering or having a hope about what it might feel like when I’m gonna die any day now.

You see, back when I was taken away the king made a deal with me. If I did everything he asked and served him like a maid or dutchess in training for 5 years straight, my sentence would be redacted. I should've known that It was an empty lie, I'm assuming that he didn’t think I would be able to last this long. He never did give me much food or water so I had to work extra hard to earn it for myself, it’s far too cruel. There were some days I went without even a drop of water or crumbs of food, maybe it was because I just couldn’t afford it. Whatever the reason I survived, and of course the king was not happy when I turned 17. He sentenced that I was to be hanged some time this week due to “aiding and abetting.” Which was a lie, and completely unfair for me.

But I think I’ve learned in my time serving as a maid that nothing is really “fair,” the rich keep getting richer, and the poor keep getting poorer. And by now I've accepted that it’s just what’s gonna happen, cruel or not. But even so, I think there's something deep down inside me that wants to stay alive. I don’t want to die, I haven't seen enough of the world yet. I'm not old enough, I haven't seen the good in the world, it’s just too soon. After the king was done using me for his own benefit, he threw me away. Like the rest of his faithful servants when they were no longer of use to him. And now all that protects my body are two pieces of cloth, as I sit against the cold hard wall with my bruised knees up to my neck and my face buried in my hands.

I was almost all alone, figuratively and literally. I was the only one left down in these dungeons, that was until they had brought a strange man down here not too long ago. He was tall and had quit a build, his hair was short, almost to the scalp. dirty blond hair and grayish blue eyes. He had sum scruff on his chin and was wearing what looked like old dirty clothes. By the lo oks of it he didn’t have any money, which wasn’t common at all to see a prisoner that was poor down in the dungeons. They were almost always blamed, even when the majority of the time it wasn’t their fault but the people who imprisoned them were at fault. Even while he was being hauled down into the dungeons he didn’t look scared at all. Not even mad, it looked more like he was bored. As if this was something that would get fixed in a matter of minutes. But no matter who else was with you it wasn’t like they could help either way, you were both in cells. But curiosity had gotten the better of me, as I looked from my dark vision that was seeded in my arms some of my hair fell in front of my face but not enough that I couldn’t see. He was sitting against the wall in the cell across from me. He had right leg laid out on the ground while his  knee faced up against his chest, his right arm leaning on his knee while he tapped his foot. He was looking up at the ceiling whistling, almost as if he was just not worried in the slightest and was expecting something to come and save him. I was awfully confused, I wanted to know what he was anticipating. I wanted to know what was going to happen next. It’s not like I was going to make a conversation with him though, I’m afraid that my voice is much to strained to do that right now. I haven spoken in ages, I almost forgot what my own voice sounded like. Even if I did want to make conversation, I doubt that he wanted to talk to me. His mind seemed much more focused on something else besides chit chatting with your prison buddy. I slowly descended my head back into the pit of my arms, where I could feel myself drifting. “I wonder, I can’t remember what the sun looks like. I'd like to see it one last time.” As I let my thoughts bounce off the tip of my brain I started to feel my eyelids get heavy as everything around me turned black. ….that was, until I heard what felt like an explosion. 

My eyes shot wide open out of pure fear and reflexes, I wrapped myself tighter in my own arms. I was afraid that this would be my last moment before I met death. But to my suprise, it was not the king or an executioner that I saw when I opened my eyes, but a group of men. 

Two of the guards that were presumably at the top of the stairs slowly tumbled down the stone colored spiral stairs as the group of men ran down the stairs, in what looked like to be a hurry. Probably not guards, but definitely not welcomed guessed either. 

“James should be fending off the rest of the guards, but we don’t have much time so move quickly you got that!”

Yes sir!”

I was drowsy and dizzy, I had not been functioning properly so it took me longer to realize what was happening but I think that I ve finally connected the dots.

These must be Robin Hood's men. You had heard about them before from all the gossiping the other maids would spill during break time in the servant room, but you had never actually seen them. They were a group of thrives, ruffians, scoundrels. At Least that’s all you've ever heard, that’s really all they've ever been described as. Not like I had much of an opinion of them, it’s not like I could say one statement is false and the other is true because you never really got to see them up until this point. 

Most of them were dressed in rags and cloth hoods, the kind of thing you'd see a bandit were. The man who had been in the prison across from you must've been a part of Robin Hood’s group, his attention had been drawn away from the ceiling at this point, a smirk on his face.

“Allan” The group of men surrounded his cell and chanted his name, the man in the front of the crowd wore a hood. He swiftly pulled his ax out of what appeared to be a weapon holder attached to his belt, almost all the men that had been in front of the cell had some sort of weapon. Whether it be a bow, sword, or another form of weapon.  He was wearing a pair of fingerless gloves. His hands looked very soft but somehow rough at the same time. Before you knew it, he started hacking at the hinges of the jail cell helping his man escape. As I watched all of this unfold I could hear banging and muffled shouting at what I assumed was the door at the top of the stairs, there was a man that popped his head out from the top of the stairs. 

“ I don’t think that we can hold them off much longer!” another guy who had been sitting by the cell had rushed to the top of the stairs 

“You give us more distraction time, and i'll stay here and guard the door for a little bit longer!”

I couldn’t see what was going on but from what I was hearing the door sounded like it opened for just a brief moment and was slammed and shut tight yet again. By now, the man allegedly named Allan had broken free of his cell and almost immediately everyone started to leave as fast as they could, sprinting out one by one. I watched every one of them flee the scene like a deer, except for one. He was the guy that was leading the group, the one that pulled the ax out of his weapon holder. I could tell he was going to leave right after the guy in front of him did, but then he caught a glimpse of me and stopped dead in his tracks. 

I don’t think I had ever made eye contact with someone this long up until this point. And even though our eyes only met for a brief moment, I don’t think I'll forget this moment for as long as I live. Despite the fact that we probably only locked eyes for a brief second, I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. They were the color of Hazelnut, green but still brown in a way. They reminded me of not a luscious green field but more so a field, the color of gold and full of not grass but wheat. I had never seen such a color my whole life, it was extraordinary. It was like the color of his eyes were one in a million, a kind of color you didn’t see everyday. One that belonged to him, and him alone. He kneeled down before me, pulling his hand over the tip of his hood and moving it to the back of his head, I can really see what he looks like now. It’s not like I couldn’t see his face beforehand, but it was much harder. He was probably the prettiest man I've seen in a while. Brown, brunette hair that almost fell down to his shoulders and right in front of his eyes.  And an almost soft yet visible jawline. He looked bewildered, maybe as to why I was here or who I was. 

“Hello? You seem…” He looked as though he was at a loss for words, probably egging me on to add something else, even as much as I wanted to respond to him my throat clogged up and I entirely forgot how to speak. It was as if I had lost my ability to think or speak at all.

He had looked up at the ceiling once more, licking his lips and eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to debate about what he was gonna do next. He looked back at me with his eyebrows still furrowed, biting the bottom of his lips. After a brief moment of neither of us doing anything, he whipped out his ax from before and started hacking at the hinges of my cell. I was confused, this doesn’t make any sense? He came here for his team mate, not me? Wouldn’t that only slow him down? Was there a reason why he was helping me? What benefit did that give him?

“Will, let’s go! We need to go! Just leave them here!”

“No way! Do you have any idea what ___ is gonna do if he gets his hands on them? I’m not leaving them here!” He shouted back in the direction of the voice still hacking at the hinges of my cell. I looked at him almost doe eyed, I still needed so many more answers… Once he finally busted through the iron bars he pulled them apart and walked through, leaning back down  when he got in front of me.

“Look you don’t have to tell me anything right now, but if you want to get out of here and live you're gonna have to trust me, okay?” I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks for a brief second, it’s almost like I forgot how to function when he stood right in front of me. It's odd because I've never acted this way before. It confused me. Why was I acting so strange? But even if I was too baffled, I had to do something or otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here much longer. So in utter dismay I hesitantly nodded my head, what happened next is something I definitely did not expect. Before I knew I heard a thud, as the door at the top of the stairs had slammed against the wall. without even thinking about it, the man who had been willing to help me  immediately grabbed my hand swiping me off my feet as he lifted my feet to the ground and started sprinting with my hand in his. I was right about before, his hands felt very soft but somehow rough at the same time. And despite the fact I was running hand in hand from a dangerous guard that was not what clouded my mind in the moment. The guy that had grabbed my hand did not seem phased by almost anything either, I’m guessing he had done this more than once. And even though I was running with him as fast as I could, I couldn’t help but trip over my own feet. It had been a while since I had walked, so I was a little bullleged. Especially when running harshly through rough terrain and forest. The man guiding me with his hand had stopped and turned to face me but only for a second, the next thing I knew he was carrying me on his back.

“I do apologize for acting like this so suddenly, but I fear that if we get slowed down any further we'll be in big trouble,” 

I didn’t retailite in the slightest, instead I slowly rested my head into his soldiers and closed my eyes.

After what felt like a matter of seconds but also days at the same time, I could sense that he was walking much more steadily now and had gotten much less tense. By the way it felt around me, he had stopped running as well. The only thing I could hear as my head was still buried in his neck was the shuffling as his eyes were he probably readjusted me to make himself more comfortable. After a few minutes of being too scared to open my eyes, as I did not know who this man even was, I went against my better judgment and slowly opened my eyelids. We're in the middle of the forest now, but not too far between where right now there was some sort of community up ahead. It was like a camp. There were a bunch of people waiting at the entrance, hollering and cheering at what I'm assuming was their victory in getting one of their men back. Even though I had never been there before, and it was fairly not made of many materialistic things, I couldn’t help but feel like wonderment. My eyes wide as we walked through the entrance, my hands on the guy’s shoulders who had been carrying me tightened. When we had finally gotten in everybody recoiled for a little bit, patting each other on the back and exclaiming how much they missed one another. That was until they noticed the strange person that had been hanging on one of their mens back like a khola. The group of women that were in the camp all took a quick look at me.

“Honestly, give them some space to breathe Scarlet! Why does this child look so frightened? And where on earth did they come from?” I was a little bit flattered that they were so concerned, but also scared for the man who had been holding me as well. He let me get off his back as some of the girls grabbed my arms and pulled me into their group. One of the ladies who had talked before stood infront of this “scarlet” and pointed a finger right in his face “Wanna explain why it took so long? Where did this child come from? Are they hurt? Did you do something?” She was throwing questions at him left and right. He looked like his head was about to turn that’s how confused he was, he simply put his hands up in the air and tried to answer

“Lady Helena, I was-”

“I think I've heard enough out of you! Now, now, come along dear. Well get you cleaned up, there's no need to worry.”

“I don’t think I had ever seen someone change demeanors that fast up until this moment. And before I knew it I had been taken away where they showed me where fresh spring water was so I could clean myself, along with that they gave me some spare clothes. They didn’t fit exactly right, but it wasn’t like I was going to complain about something as trivial as that, it was better than the rag I was wearing earlier and I was certainly grateful for that. When they were helping me fit into the clothes, the lady before had told me about the man who had helped me escape.

“I know he can be a lot sometimes but he really is a good kid, he’s a troublemaker I tell you so don’t get involved in any of his antics. I know I seemed angry at him earlier but it was only because of how reckless he was acting.”

“I believe you”

The women was a little bit shocked,

“My dear your voice is very strained, are you sure youll be okay?”

“She looked at me with concern, but I only told her that I would be fine. I just needed to use it a bit more before it went back to normal,

“Okay, but take it easy, will you love?”

I only nodded, she was being so nice to me and yet I couldn’t understand why. How come all of these people are so kind? Once I had gotten cleaned up I was invited to join at a fire pit in the middle of this camp. It was after dark so everybody was probably gathering around to eat food. Not like I had eaten anything, I didn't feel too hungry. It was a lot to handle so much excitement in one day that I didn’t think I could stomach anything so I just sat there. I had realized that the man from before was nowhere to be seen at the fire pit, it made me a little bit disappointed. I was hoping I could have greeted him properly, the way we first met wasn’t exactly all that formal. I had watched everybody leave as they went back to where they lived, I was guessing that each one of them lived in their own little huts. I found it fascinating, the way they live out their lives here. As I got wrapped up in my own thoughts, I guess I hadn’t noticed a person sneaking up from behind me and grabbing my shoulder. Out of pure instinct, I squeezed my eyes shut and scrunched up my nose, punching whoever was behind me in the jaw. Turns out it was not somebody trying to hurt me, but the man from before who hadn’t been there at the fire pit.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this guilty in a long time, i immediately covered my mouth with my hand and started apologizing profusely.

“Oh gosh I I’m so sorry I swear I just could tell that it was you sneaking up behind me and I-“

Out of no we’re he had bursted into a fit of laughter, many of the things this man did confused me. This moment being one of them.

I slowly removed my hands from my mouth, he had his hand on his forehead as his face was scrunched up from laughter, he slowly started to calm down and eventually sat down right next me, he was still chuckling a little bit.

I looked at him with a “are you gonna explain why you were laughing?” face and he just kinda gave me a little shrug , laughter still Irradiating from him.

“I’ve just never had some body punch me in the face the second time treating them is all, you just shocked me little.”

He wasn’t chuckling at me anymore, but he was wearing a heartwarming smile.

“Your smile frames your face very well.”

Wait. Why did I just say that? It happened so suddenly I didn’t even have time to think about!

I thought I was about to die of embarrassment, that was until he broke out into a fit of laughter, again! Not as loud as the first time but still noticeable

“Oh, you are quite honest! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as vague as you.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that,

“Oh, before we start talking any further I should probably tell you my name.”

“It’s Scarlet, isn’t it?”

He let out a little stifled laughter

“What? Is it not?”

This is starting to becoming more and more embarrassing every second I’m with him

“Actually, it’s Will. My last name is Scarlet though so I guess in a way you were still right.”

That time he just looked over at me and smirked

“Will Scarlet? So you are the one from Robin Hood’s little gang.”

“We’ll I wouldn’t like to think of it so much as a gang as it is more of a community.”

For a little while longer we both just stared into the fire pit at the fire that was about to burn out,

“Is it true what they say about all of you?”

“Hmm?”

He look at me, I could see him from the corner of my eyes

“About all of you being no good thief’s that steal and break laws?”

He looked like he was stumbled for a minute, as if he got caught up in his own words and didn’t know what to say.

“Well yes I guess in a sense that’s true. We steal, and we break the law.”

I let a little Hmph I stared a little bit more intensely into the pit of the burning fire.

I had looked to the side of me and realized that Will moved closer to me.

“But that’s also because we only steal what we need. I would never take without a good cause. Nobody here is really a dirty no good thief, we’re each other’s family. Our own blood. And If taking what we need to survive once in a while qualifies as being “no good thief’s that steal and break the law” then call me a thief.”

He just looked at me with a face I couldn’t quite describe,

“No. I think I like Will much better.”

He just couldn’t help but laugh at me again, his laugh really did fill everything in the atmosphere to its fullest. Almost made me feel light headed. It was almost contagious.

He started to lean over me and Place something above my shoulders, it was his cloth.

“Will I-“

He put his pointer finger up to my lips and shushed me before I could say anything else.

“It’s cold, and if your staying out here any longer you need to make sure you don’t get sick. Don’t worry about it, I have plenty anyways.”

He started to lift his feet from the tree stump we’re both sitting on,

“You mean the one other cloth you own?”

He just smiled at me, with that same gentle smile.

“You haven’t even known for more than twenty for hours and you already got me figured out completely.”

Suddenly he switched from happy and playful to a serious look on his face (I could tell he was still joking with me, well at least a little.)

“But seriously, don’t get sick.”

He pointed his finger out towards me as if to say “I mean it.”

“Your such a mom.” I just chuckled under my breathe, I don’t think I had ever made conversation with some one so easily before.

He started to walk backwards away from me putting his hand out in front of himself and dramatically bowing,

“Fair night…?” He looked up from the ground still half way in his bowing position, eyebrow cocked..

“Y/N.”

“Huh, what a pretty name. And to think I hadn’t known it up until this point.”

He had finally finished showing off his royal gesture as he walks off into the distance probably towards his shelter, and while he walks he throws his hand up in the air one more time as to wish me goodbye.

I couldn’t help but smile at him. I looked back into the fire.

I definitely think that this place feels like

Home.

______________________

AN - Hello, I hope you enjoyed this first little chapter of a series I’m starting Called Domicile. This is gonna be Will Scarlett x Reader series (From Robin Hood Prince of Thieves.) Along with falling down the Heathers (Movie) rabbit hole, I have also grown an unhealthy obsession with Christian Slater which leads us to here. I have tried finding fan fiction for this beautiful man but there is very little, so I thought why not do it myself? So here we are! Fun fact Domicile means home in French.

[cas-kingdom]

Dad

A/N: Thank you to my anons for helping me come up with some perfectly Geralt-like explanations of parenthood. <3

Despite the summary, Geralt doesn't outright call Akela his daughter in a couple of these, but the point of the story is to show how he can call her that without actually saying it, if that makes sense. Still fluffy and (dangerously) sweet! Also a nice little Yennefer-Geralt scene here.

While writing number 4, I listened to 'Scared' by Jeremy Zucker.

Title: Dad

Summary: Three times Geralt called you his daughter, and the one time you called him ‘Dad’.

Words: 4607

1)

“I knocked it off the cart.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why would I try to steal something I have money to pay for?”

The old man’s face turned sourer, if that was at all possible. “Oh, you have money?” He expectantly stretched his hand out, palm up as his fingers twitched. “Pay me, then!”

You rolled your eyes. “But I’m not buying them!”

“You tried to steal them!”

“I did not!”

“I saw you!”

“What you saw,” you spat out, leaning forward, face the picture of anger, “was me bumping against your cart and knocking a couple apples off—which I apologised for.”

A noise somewhere between frustration and rage spewed from the man’s mouth and he shot his arm forward like a snake striking to attack, grasping the front of your tunic and tugging you forward. “Listen here, girl—”

You clenched your fists and readied to bite back, but before you even had a chance, the man’s hands were ripped from you, and he was shoved away.

“Get your hands off her,” a stony voice ground out, voice brooking no argument. Geralt stood tall and menacing in front of the hunched old man, head tilted slightly to the side as he glared at him. He knew you were often capable of looking after yourself, proven clearly when you stepped beside him and a look of smugness appeared on your face, but he also knew that that would likely never change how much the anger flourished inside him when he saw someone lay their hands on his child in a way such as this.

The old man pointed a shaky finger at Geralt. “You stay out of this, Sir!”

You scoffed, and Geralt spared a glance down at you, briefly raising a brow. “What, exactly, am I supposed to be staying out of?”

“The little bitch tried to steal my produce!”

“I didn’t!”

“The little bitch,” Geralt said, holding out an arm to stop you from lunging, “is my daughter. And if you ever speak in that manner to her again, you won’t be able to speak another word.”

The man looked ready to respond with vigour, but at the last moment his eyes averted to the sword and the daggers at Geralt’s waist, and the cogs in his brain began to turn as his vision wandered up to the white hair and the amber eyes. He shut his mouth and stepped back, resigned.

“Forgive me,” he said. He appeared as though he was ready to run before he grabbed one of the apples you had knocked off his cart and pressed it into your hands, a forced and nervy smile showing on his lips. “Here, take this!”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled victoriously, taking a bite from it and turning to walk off as you called back a quick, “Thank you!”

Geralt sighed deeply and hummed, giving the man a final glare before following after you. “He was right. You are a little bitch,” he remarked.

You grinned and tossed the apple in the air, the sunlight glinting on the green fruit as though in triumph. You handed it to him and watched as he relented with a roll of his eyes and took a bite. “Waste not, want not!”

2)

“What’s it like?”

Geralt lifted his head to look at Yennefer. She was lying on her side opposite the fire, her head resting in her hand, and she seemed contemplative. Curious, in a way, which was odd for her, though what could he really say about that? It wasn’t as though he’d known her long.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

Yennefer jerked her head in the direction he’d been staring in for the majority of the past ten minutes, where you were fast asleep, curled under blankets, head beside Jaskier’s, who was wandering in the land of dreams himself.

He looked at you a moment longer before turning back to the mage. A hint of his own confusion danced in his eyes, but she spoke before he could open his mouth to question what it was that she meant.

“Parenthood,” she clarified, her voice softening. “What’s it like?”

Geralt rose an eyebrow, briefly floundering for words at the, quite frankly, surprising question. For a woman who was all invulnerability and strength, it was something he hadn’t expected to come from her. Not to mention he didn’t often think about what she’d asked.

He glanced away and shook his head. “More trouble than it’s worth,” he told her with a short breath of a laugh.

The corners of Yennefer’s lips drew upwards. She fidgeted with a stone on the forest floor. “I’m serious.”

His other eyebrow shot up. “So am I,” he assured her. “She may seem sweet, but underneath it all is the monster I’m most afraid to go up against.” He offered her a rare smile, which she returned, and for the first time in a while both mage and witcher felt peaceful. It was blissfully quiet—the only sound being Jaskier’s snores and incoherent mumbles—and it was dark, giving the two the serenity they needed after the trials of the previous days.

“It’s… hard,” he said seriously, despite the fact he was admitting that he, the infamous Geralt of Rivia, found something difficult. “You learn new things every day.”

“What kind of things?”

“Everything. About yourself, about her, about the world in general… you make decisions you probably would never have thought about before. You have responsibilities you wouldn’t have believed would ever be associated with you.” He let his eyes wander over to your sleeping form. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing most of the time. You can feel so… so lost at it, right until you start to realise the only thing that’s keeping you grounded is the same thing that gave you the title of father. It…” He paused, leaning forward to poke a stick into the dying fire. “It gives you something to live for, and at the time I found Y/N, that was what I needed most.”

Yennefer’s lips curled into a smile as she slowly sat up, tucking her legs underneath her. “It sounds tiring,” she said, glancing down for a moment, and Geralt nodded.

“It is. But the rewards outweigh the difficulties. It’s something you’d give up everything to keep.” He looked across at her, noticing her loosened shoulders, and realised for the first time that he took his title of father for granted. Yennefer’s mutations had made her sterile, and though he was the same, he’d still somehow found a way to get past that, even though he’d never once pondered on the possibilities of it before he’d found you. Yennefer hadn’t been so lucky, and as he looked at her, he found that that reflected perfectly in the eyes he now viewed as… sad.

“You’ll feel that someday,” he said without thinking, and when she glanced up, he nodded in your direction. “When you have your own.”

Yennefer gazed at him, violet eyes piercing the amber of his. They stared at each other for a moment, no words passing their lips but every meaningful word being said nonetheless, until Jaskier snorted in his sleep and the both of them ripped their eyes away, returning to their stone and their stick.

“Thank you, Witcher,” Yennefer spoke up a moment later, and Geralt nodded once.

“You’re welcome, Mage.”

3)

Geralt turned his head down to look at you. You were standing beside him, absently tugging on the neckline of the dress you’d bought from a market that very morning. You were clearly irritated, sighing in annoyance and muttering under your breath every so often.

When you noticed him looking, you shook your head, face every bit unhappy. “I don’t want to be here,” you ground out.

He rose an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

“Why are we here again?”

“Lord Lyon invited us.”

“And how do you—” You scratched at the back of your neck, the foreign material rubbing it raw—“know Lord Lyon?”

Geralt glanced down again and frowned, slapping your hands away from your red neck. “I saved his sister from a werewolf,” he said, instinctively tucking a few strands of hair that hadn’t made it into your plait behind your ear, “and he insisted my attendance at his feast tonight.”

You rose an eyebrow at that, finally relenting in your fiddling and letting your arms hang loosely. “Your attendance,” you picked out. “I could have stayed at the inn.” He ignored that, as you expected, and you sighed, shoulders slacking. “You never usually care for extra repayment,” you said. And it was true. He didn’t. He preferred to do his duty as a witcher and not stick around to see the aftermath of his hunt, except to accept his money. He didn’t care for physical shows of thanks. It was better that way, for you and for him. But he’d, for once, genuinely been concerned for the lord’s sister, so he’d accepted the invitation with the intention of only staying long enough to gain information on her wellbeing before leaving.

Geralt lifted his chin as he noticed a familiar man enrobed in silk and jewels walking towards you. He took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead of undoubtedly mindless babble about his life and anything else the lord wished to ask him.

“And you never usually say no to free food,” he remarked quietly to you before forcing a tight smile at the open-armed, freely grinning man when he stopped in front of him.

“Geralt of Rivia!” he greeted, and you turned your head to meet him, only just refraining from raising your brows at the sight that met your eyes. You weren’t used to seeing royalty or regality of any sort, so you were never one to shy from your overly dramatic opinions of how these people dressed and carried themselves. You were quite certain all the clothes on your body wouldn’t amount to the price of a single ring on his finger, even though you’d had to beg Geralt for weeks to buy you the new leather boots on your feet now, just about hidden by your long dress.

Geralt had made an attempt to dress nicely, too. He’d washed and brushed his hair—and made several mock lunges (and one actual one) for you when you’d continued to tease him about it—and was wearing clothes that, though giving him an extremely regal look of his own, seemed unfamiliar to you. You much preferred him in his loose tunics and trousers, hair muddy and tangled in knots that he wouldn’t give a shit about until he needed to (which was barely ever, unless you were counting surprise and sudden invites to feasts such as this).

“Lord Lyon,” Geralt said with a small nod. “How is your sister?”

The lord reached forward to clap him on the shoulder, and this time, you did raise a brow, knowing your witcher’s dislike for such actions. Sure enough, Geralt’s smile grew tighter, and you could see the lines on his forehead become more pronounced. Perhaps in different circumstances—definitely in different circumstances—you would have laughed at his predicament, despite his clear discomfort, nevertheless this time you had to do with quickly turning your head to the side and stifling a grin.

“My sister fares well!” Lyon told him, not removing his hand. “She’s been asleep since you returned her safely to me, but the healers assure me she will make a full recovery. Thank you again for your unforgettable help, my friend!”

“Thank you for inviting me here tonight.”

Lyon stepped back, finally letting his hand drop to his side, and the corners of your lips twitched when Geralt subconsciously rolled his shoulder. “Well, this is the only other way I could think of repaying you when coin did not seem enough. A good meal!” It was at this moment, when you were shuffling from foot to foot in boredom, almost reverting back to your scratching and tugging, that Lyon noticed you, and he rose both eyebrows, glancing between you and Geralt. “And who might this be?”

“Y/N,” Geralt introduced, stopping you with a firm hand to your shoulder. You looked up at the lord, offering a smile. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought her.”

Lyon tilted his head slightly to the side in obvious interest, disregarding Geralt’s last sentence with a wave of his hand. “You mean she’s yours? Your daughter?”

You continued to stare at the man in front of you, unbothered. You were well used to being called his daughter—it was easier for him to agree when people asked if you were, and you sometimes wondered when exactly he’d given up on correcting people. If he’d ever corrected people in the first place.

“Your daughter?” Lyon repeated at Geralt’s lack of response.

“Yes.”

“I thought… well.” He looked a little sheepish, but Geralt was all too aware of what was coming. “I was always told that the trials witchers underwent made them—”

Geralt interrupted him before he could continue. “They did. I am.” He squeezed your shoulder. “She’s not mine by blood. But she is mine.”

Lyon stared a while, thinking to himself, before he abruptly smiled in acceptance. “Very good. Though I would never have taken you for the parent type.”

“My apologies,” Geralt said, inclining his head, “but you don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.”

A soft smile graced your lips and you glanced down to the ground, your heart swelling with love you could only ever feel for him.

“Quite right.” Lyon was clearly apologetic. He opened an arm out and motioned for the two of you to follow him. “Come, let us eat. You can tell us all exactly how you killed that werewolf!”

The hilariously dismayed look Geralt sent you after that made you snort.

4)

How had it come to this?

“Geralt?” you whispered, daring to edge closer. He looked so pale, even in the short rays of moonlight radiating down. His skin was pallid, white hair muddied and hanging in knots around his face. His eyes were shut, his lips were set in a straight line, and even as you shook his shoulder, he did not move.

He did not move.

Geralt always moved. He had long since trained himself to wake at the first sound or touch that did or didn’t come from you. And yet now, even as you doubled your attempts and shook him so hard you were sure he’d be disorientated were he awake… he remained still. Still and silent. Completely dead to the world.

Dead.

Your heart soared, not for the first time, and you sat back on your haunches for a moment, staring with eyes as wide as the yellow moon looming over head. It was almost as though your unconscious mind was waiting for him to wake up. Willing him to wake up. Because you knew good and fucking well that without him, the point of remaining in the living was completely lost on you.

Reluctantly, your mind swiftly hurled you back. Back into damn memories of the swings of his sword and his shouts of exertion and pain as he fought with the monster that had suddenly stormed where you’d been resting. You should have stayed behind the rocks as he’d ordered… you shouldn’t have listened to the clash of metal hitting sturdy skin and bone… and you certainly shouldn’t have jumped up from behind the rock and screamed his name, leading him to whirl around in panic and giving the beast time to throw him against a large boulder. You could still remember the sickening crack of his head hitting the solid stone. That would have been the perfect time to scream his name, but you’d found that no words had been able to escape your clenched throat. You’d felt like you were being strangled, and your heart had stopped beating for the longest second as you’d watched with absolute terror…

He’d been telling you a story. You’d been lying beside him, exhausted eyes staring up at the starry sky as his voice lulled you to sleep. You couldn’t even remember what the story had been about, all you’d been focused on was the comfort his voice offered, and for that reason you had not registered at all when he’d abruptly stopped speaking. He’d waited a moment, eyes narrowed, before quietly standing to his feet, picking up his sword as he went. All his senses had been alert, and were he an animal, his ears would have been pricked up and forwards, listening for any noise that sounded at all abnormal.

He’d taken calculated steps forward, hands tight around his sword’s hilt, boots making no sound as he stepped over fallen leaves and twigs. And then he’d stopped, standing completely still, save for his eyes, which roved the area in front of him. He’d turned his head the slightest bit and harshly whispered your name, but it had not been enough to rouse you, and you’d stayed sleeping until less than three seconds later when what you now believed to have been a kikimora burst from the cover of the trees, screaming raucously and lunging towards Geralt. You’d bolted upright and he’d yelled at you to hide yourself as his sword came clashing down on the thing, not waiting to see if you’d done as was asked before moving to attempt to lead the monster away.

That had been only three minutes ago. One and a half minutes ago, he’d been thrown against the boulder. One minute ago, he’d managed to use the last of his strength to pierce the beast’s hide with a cloying crunch, mixing with both his and the kikimora’s shrieks of agony. You had looked on with trembling hands as it fell to the side, completely unmoving, and watched, waited, for Geralt to stand to his feet.

When he hadn’t, you’d taken one trembling step forward, hands cold and in fists at your sides, before running the rest of the way, not caring in the least that there was a possibility the monster might still be alive. All you’d cared about was the possibility that Geralt might not be.

You stared at him now, hopefully waiting for his eyelids to flicker, or a finger to twitch… but there was no movement.

You shook him again, harder now, but it didn’t work, and with a desperation you had never felt before, and your breathing quicker than ever, you hurried closer towards him, grabbing the sides of his face and shaking him, slapping him, hitting him… anything that had a chance of waking him.

“Geralt!” you shouted, voice cracking. You slapped him again, pausing only when you felt something wet and sticky coat your right hand. When you pulled it back, the sight of red met your eyes.

You stared at it for a moment, hands shuddering, before the red and the blackness of everything else melded into one as tears filled your eyes. A tightening of your throat and a short intake of breath was all that was heard before gut-wrenching sobs tore through your chest and you fell forward, clutching your bloody hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut as your grief poured from you in an onslaught of irrepressible tears.

“Please, please, wake—wake up!” you choked out, your forehead resting against his chest, hands gripping his ragged tunic. “Please! I can’t—I can’t—Please! Geralt! You can’t die! You’re a witcher! Witchers don’t die! Wake up!”

But he didn’t.

You harshly breathed in with as much effort as you could muster, and the smell of blood overpowered your senses… yet, at the same time, there was still that hint of forest and greenery which made him Geralt. The scent that was often the only thing that could make you fall asleep. The scent that you only had to catch for a moment before you immediately calmed. The scent that, even now, amidst your hiccups and sobs, caused the briefest feeling of serenity to swirl through you before it vanished as the new, metallic aroma abruptly tickled at your nose.

Another sob racked your body when the scent disappeared and you shook your head. “Daddy…” It came out as a mewling whine, so broken and utterly devastating that it would have made even the heartless cry along with you, but there was no other sound… no other noise in the darkness of the forest around you except the guttural cries wrenching from your throat.

It was the feeling of being alone which scared you the most. The feeling of… being without the one person who’d ever made an ounce of sense to you. The one person you loved more than life itself and who probably loved you even more than that.

You would rather die alongside him than live in a world you knew he no longer walked in.

A moment passed, and you sat there, hunched over with your head on his chest and your tired hands slowly slacking in their hold on his tunic. Your eyes were red and swollen, cheeks wet and tracking the mud and blood which had inadvertently transferred from his clothing to your face, and you were shaking so much that when a slight tremor rippled beneath you, you took no notice of it whatsoever.

At an exhausted yet almost incoherent groan, you blinked, opening your eyes despite it doing nothing against the blackness of you face pressed to him. You tried to silence your cries as much as you could, holding your breath, not quite willing to believe it but hoping more than you’d ever hoped before all the same.

“Fuck…”

And you bolted upright, your eyes blinking against the blurriness. You wiped at them, your heart thumping, blood pulsing through your distraught and exhausted body, and looked on with shock as Geralt—yes, Geralt!—slowly raised his arm and brought his hand to the back of his head. His eyes squeezed tightly shut as his brows furrowed in obvious pain.

“My fucking head,” he rasped out, and you let loose a noise of relief, suddenly and without warning bursting into tears once again. You launched forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his chest. He groaned and finally opened his eyes to peer down at the mop of hair in his line of vision.

He gulped down the sickly feeling in his gut as best he could, trying to make sense of his surroundings, and after a moment the memories returned to him, causing him to shut his eyes once more at the force of it. He returned his attention to you, lowering his hand to place it on the back of your head.

When your sobs grew, his frown deepened and he tried to lift his own head, swallowing back bile when the throbbing ache increased. He felt nauseatingly terrible and instead dropped his head back to the hard rock below him. “Hey…” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and he didn’t really trust the words coming from his mouth. “It’s alright.”

You shook your head. “N-no! It is-isn’t! I thought you were dead!”

He sighed unsteadily and moved his trembling fingers through your hair, trying his best to block out the discomfort (which was a nice word for agony). “I’m not dead,” he told you, and you finally lifted your head, showing him the extent of your hysteria. You looked as though you’d been bawling for years, and he shook his head softly, raising his other arm to wrap around you and pull you back towards him. His head was pounding, he knew he was bleeding in more places than one, but to be perfectly honest, he was simply happy to be alive, and to be holding his child in his arms, however much he would be covered in tears and snot by the time he finally gathered the strength to push himself up.

“I thought you were,” you croaked out, and he rubbed his thumb across your temple. You reached up, grasping his hand, and he narrowed his eyes, blinking at the sight of blood coating your own.

“Is th-that yours?” he asked, the words feeling funny on his tongue as he stumbled over them. You sniffed and glanced to where he had turned your hand over in his.

“No,” you said, “it’s yours.” At that open revelation and reminder, you lifted your eyes, haphazardly wiping your hair from your face and blinking against the tears that still didn’t seem to be stopping. “It’s from your head. Does it hurt?”

Geralt’s face contorted into one of pain yet again as he reached his hand to his head, bringing it back and intaking a sharp breath once he saw the blood. “Damn,” he grumbled. “Yes, it hurts. Like hell.”

You unconsciously bit at the inside of your cheeks and watched him as he lowered his arm and shut his eyes. Your heart continued to pound and every so often your ragged breaths were interrupted by a hiccup. “I’m sorry,” you muttered after a short while.

He blearily opened his eyes to look at you. “Why?”

“I called your name,” you told him, “and you turned around.”

He nodded faintly in remembrance. “Why?” he repeated.

“I don’t know.” You swallowed thickly, tears fogging your vision again. “I was stupid. I just… got so scared, and I didn’t—I didn’t want you to… to…”

At your rising distress, he pulled you down to his chest again, ensuring your ear was conveniently placed over the left side of his chest. His heart was slow—perhaps a little faster than normal yet still slow all the same—but in the silence of the forest he knew you would be able to hear it and let it soothe you.

It worked, and the two of you stayed there for a while. Geralt fixed his attention on his own breathing, trying to match yours as he felt your pulse through his hands. He wondered briefly how far the nearest village was and if he could risk asking for medical help. Perhaps he could reach Triss in Novigrad, and both he and you would have a safe place to recuperate.

His muddled mind was interrupted when he turned his head and noticed the kikimora for the first time, lying in a rotten clump on the ground a couple feet from him. He swallowed the knot in his throat and shut his eyes, remembering all too clearly what had happened and, more importantly, how close it had been to getting you. Unconsciously, his hands tightened around you, and he slowly breathed out, calming himself before he let his emotions reign over him. You didn’t need to see that.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, more to himself, but it assured your all the same.

“Next time, I want to fight with you. I don’t want to watch. I’ve been trained for these moments.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“I thought you were going to leave me.”

“Leave you?” He shook his head. “No, no, never…”

He shut his eyes. He knew that the day he left you would be the day the stars burned out and the world became shrouded in darkness. To leave you would be to leave his heart, and that was the one thing that, no matter how battered and bruised, he would hold onto and keep safe with every fibre of his being.

It was his duty, after all.

As your father.

Witcher Masterpost

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (02)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn't want an Alpha; you didn't need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars

AO3 Link      Masterlist

Seaside Paradise Tokyo.

Or, how Niragi introduces it to you, the Beach.

He leads you inside as if he owns the place. You wouldn’t doubt it, noticing how the people around get out of his way or hurriedly leave the room. You gulp; not a good sign. You look around the big lobby of what used to be a luxury hotel. The first thing you notice is how everyone is wearing some kind of swimwear; Niragi seems to be the exception. 

There are more people there than what you’ve seen in weeks, and the sight fills you with anxiety. You know everyone knows exactly what you are and what you’ve done; it would be impossible not to. You notice the whispers and barely masked expressions of surprise and curiosity as those strangers smell you. Smell him in you. 

You keep your eyes down as Niragi guides you through the building to an unknown destination. The hand on your lower back is warm and makes you feel less tense. You have no idea what to expect; you don’t know these people or what they stand for. You have no idea what you just got yourself into. But, for better or for worse, at least he’s there and you know he will keep you safe. No matter what. 

You risk a sideways glance at him. He doesn’t look at you, but you notice the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk, his fingers brushing against your lower back. You blush; you hadn’t exchanged more than a few words since you left the roof, but his hand never stopped touching you.

The people who were hunting you just hours before now stand behind you, whispering. It's a small group; four men and two women. You haven’t been introduced yet, but you feel like those people know way too much about you already. You remember the ride to that place and the moments before that, cringing. 

Saying that it had been awkward would be an understatement; it was probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Like the walk of shame you would see sometimes in American movies, but worse. Oh so much worse.

Words weren’t needed for them to know what had transpired on the roof. They had known the moment you appeared in front of them; sweaty, dirty, clearly disheveled and reeking of him. It also didn’t help how Niragi had shown up right behind you, chest puffed like a peacock and a grin on his face. 

No one had directed a word at you. The women just smiled in your direction and the men pat Niragi’s back, smirking and throwing around some distasteful comments that made him laugh. It made you feel like some kind of trophy; you supposed you were.

You had sat in the back of a car with just him, one of his men on the wheel while a woman sat on the passenger seat. You could feel their eyes on you, and you squirmed in your seat. Niragi’s hand was on your knee, thumb rubbing your skin in circles as he hummed a melody you didn’t recognize. Your head was full of questions; where were you going? How many people were there? What expected you? You had no idea. You stared out of the window at the empty streets of Tokyo, lost in your thoughts.

“Where do you keep your cards?” he had suddenly asked, startling you.

“Uh, hm my cards? In a backpack in my shelter,” you answered, brow raised. “Why?”

“Where is that?”

You had given the necessary directions to your most recent hiding spot and he transmitted them through a walkie-talkie. The rest of the ride was made in silence (eyes still on you), so you returned your attention to the passing view outside. However, the hand on your knee was still the major focus of your brain, and you kept replaying your encounter in your head; how his hands-

A door closing behind you brings you back to the present. You look around the big room you’re in now, taking in your surroundings; a long table occupies the center of it, with some sofas in a corner. Like everything else in that place, it looks expensive. You’re also not alone in that room; several strangers have their eyes locked on you. Their expressions go from barely hidden curiosity to blatant distrust. You tense, feeling threatened; you wonder if you could run past the guards by the door if the need arises. Niragi’s hand goes around your waist, pulling your body to his side in a movement that isn’t unseen by the others.

“So it’s true!” a voice exclaims, making you jump. The man sitting at the head of the table stands up, walking in your direction with open arms and a grin on his face. He’s dressed in just a pair of swim trunks and a colorful kimono, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. His cheery demeanor puts you off for some reason. “You really bonded with an Omega!”

“We’re not bonded.” “They’re not bonded.” You blurt out at the same time as someone else. You look for the owner of the voice, and your heart stops when you set your eyes on him. You have no idea how you missed him; how his scent didn’t hit you as soon as you walked through those doors.

An Alpha.

You can definitely smell him now. Niragi’s scent is spicy and warm, like cinnamon and wood. This Alpha’s scent, however, is the complete opposite; he smells like something clean and fresh, like peppermint and rain. You look him up and down; he isn’t exactly how you would describe an Alpha; He’s shorter than most men and lean, with features that strangely remind you of a cat. His hair is white and his cold dark eyes pierce into yours while showing no emotion. However, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Yes, he definitely gives you cat vibes.

Niragi feels your body react before you do. His frame is blocking your vision before you can say or do anything.

“She’s mine!” he snarls in the direction of the other man. “You better stay the fuck away.”

You furrow your brow and push him aside. Indignation and anger rise inside you. You’re not his; not really. What you did is nothing definitive. He has no right in claiming you like that. Niragi stares at you in surprise before his eyes narrow. You notice his jaw clench. Well, he can stay mad for all you care.

“Stop talking about me like I’m a damn object!” you mutter to him, arms crossed over your chest, “We’re not bonded.” you clarify aloud. You lock eyes with the other Alpha; he’s full-on smirking now, something like amusement glinting in his eyes. It makes something tingle inside you. You ignore the sensation. “I don’t-”

“We’re not bonded yet.” Niragi grabs your arm and pulls you to him, hands possessively going around your waist. His glare never leaves the other Alpha as he says, “We will be, once she’s in heat, so back the fuck off.” In a swift movement, the riffle on his shoulder is on his hand, pointing it right at the other man. “If I even think you touched a hair on her head-”

“That’s for her to decide, no?” he retorts, a smirk still on his lips. His taunt expression doesn’t change as he winks at you, “Name’s Chishiya.”

You barely have time to grab Niragi’s arm as he lunges himself in the direction of the shorter man. “Niragi, stop!” And surprisingly, he does. The murderous rage in his eyes doesn’t disappear nor he lowers the gun, but he stops. 

“Niragi,” a man calls, a warning tone in his voice. He’s sitting at the other head of the table, arms crossed and face stoic. A scar runs across his left eye. “Easy there.”

“No no, Aguni, let them continue,” says the man that had first spoken when you arrived. The grin still hasn’t left his face. “This is quite entertaining.”

You take a deep breath, wondering once again where the hell did you get yourself into. You quickly assess the room; the people sitting around that table just stare, clearly not meaning to get involved in a dispute between two Alphas. You can feel the situation escalating, and no one seems to want to do anything.

“Niragi,” you put your hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his lower lip, “Drop it, please. You’re scaring me.” He finally looks at you, and his expression softens. You hoped that would work; you had seen your mother do the same to your father dozens of times. Niragi lowers the gun, and you let out a sigh of relief.

The sound of claps startles you.

“Fascinating!” the man in the kimono and sunglasses says in the middle of clapping. “Not even Aguni there can calm down Niragi as fast as you just did.” he chuckles, “Are you sure that he’s the Alpha in the relationship?”

You feel Niragi tense against you, but he keeps silent.

“You know, my grandparents were bonded too.” the man continues without waiting for an answer. “I never really understood the dynamics of Alpha and Omega relationships though, it sounds so bothersome. Being bonded for life with someone you normally wouldn’t even stand just because of your animal sides,” he shakes his head. “Didn’t stop my grandfather from cheating though.”

You look down; it hadn’t stopped your father either.

“Anyway, welcome to the Beach!” he slightly bows in a greeting, “And your name is?”

“Y/N,” you say. You hear Niragi whisper your name, and you realize he didn’t know it until now. He doesn’t know anything about you. Nor you about him.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Hatter.” he walks back towards his spot at the head of the table, sitting down like a king on a throne. “Now Y/N, there are only three rules in this utopian Beach. Rule number one:” he points at himself, “Always wear swimwear at the Beach. Rule number two-”

“Why swimwear?” you interrupt. Walking around so exposed is not something you like. “Niragi doesn’t wear one.” 

“Well, for safety reasons, of course,” he explains. “You can’t hide weapons in a swimsuit.” he chuckles, nodding at Niragi, “And your boyfriend there just simply refuses to wear one. Not that it makes a difference; he’s always carrying that riffle around anyway.” he clears his throat, “As I was saying, rule number two is that all cards belong to the Beach. You’ll give us all the cards you have in your possession as well as every card you’ll get in the future. If you contribute a lot you can even be promoted to a higher number and, eventually, leave this country.”

“Wait, what do you mean leave?” a spark of hope; there is a way to leave that hell hole.

“Oh, your boyfriend didn’t explain it to you?” Hatter asks, “If you’re able to get every card, you can go back to the real world. We work by numbers here; I am number one, which means I’ll be the first to leave when we get all the cards. After me is Aguni, as he’s number two and so on. So, if we all put in the work and gather enough double cards, everyone on the Beach will be able to leave this country eventually.”

“Is it true?” you turn to Niragi. “We can actually leave?”

He nods, “I want her to have the number before mine.” he says in Hatter’s direction. “I’m not leaving without her.”

“We have a system in place, Niragi,” a bespectacled man speaks at Hatter’s right, “We can’t change it just because you have...fallen in love, or whatever it is. There are rules”

“Kuzuryū is right,” adds a woman in shorts and sunglasses. Her tone is bored, but her body language tells you she’s interested in the conversation, “She has to prove her worth. If she can’t, then she’ll have to get in line just like everyone else.”

You feel Niragi’s body tense up again, gun rising just a little.

“I don’t need charity,” you speak before he can, pressing the gun down. “I’m more than capable of rising up the rankings by myself. And I’ve been surviving on my own just fine, so I know I can do this.”

“Y/N, no-” 

“Oh, so she plays by the rules,” Chishiya. You had almost forgotten about him if it wasn’t for the scent of peppermint mixing with the scent of cinnamon. “What’s your specialty?”

“My specialty?”

“Yeah, what kind of games are you good at?”

“I- I don’t know.” You just did your best to survive while staying away from others. That made games of clubs particularly difficult, but nothing you couldn’t overcome. “Never really thought about it.”

“Then I guess we will find out.” the woman from before says. 

“It’s settled then!” Hatter declares with a clap. “Ann here will personally evaluate your gaming skills. You’re free to indulge in whatever you wish to, at the Beach; alcohol, drugs, sex. Have fun and enjoy yourself while you can. Just remember the third rule; the last and most important rule,” he makes a dramatic pause. “Death to the traitors. Not even your Alpha boyfriend could save you if you broke that rule.” You feel the threat in his words as much as Niragi does, but both of you keep quiet. “Is that clear?” You nod in confirmation. “Great! Meeting adjourned.”

Niragi is pulling you out of the room before you can ask any more questions; you happen to have a lot of them, but decide to keep them to yourself for now.

“Why the fuck did you stop me from trying to help you?” he asks without looking at you. You almost trot while trying to keep up with his long legs. “I’m trying to keep you safe, goddammit!”

“But I don’t need saving!” you retort with a huff, “I’m more than capable of standing up for myself and get stuff on my own.”

He abruptly stops in the middle of the empty hallway, hands grabbing your shoulders. “Have you forgotten about what we agreed upon?” he asks with a scowl. A strand of raven hair falls over his eyes and you have to fight the impulse to tuck it behind his ear. “You’re mine, remember?”

“Well, and you seem to forget that I have some rules I would like for you to respect!” you talk back, arms crossing over your chest. “The first one is for you to stop acting as if you own me.”

“But I-”

“You don’t!” you interrupt a little too loudly, “I won’t let this fucking animal in me decide what I want. And you better do the same!”

“Trouble in paradise already?” a voice makes you freeze. You turn to face Chishiya, just a few meters behind you. The look in his eyes is something like malice and amusement; he likes whatever he’s seeing.

Niragi lets out a dramatic sigh, “Oh for fuck’s sake, will you fucking leave me alone and die?!” he pinches the bridge of his nose before pointing the rifle at the man once again, “I really have no fucking patience for you right now, so fuck off will ya?”

Chishiya huffs out a laugh and raises his hands in mocking surrender. “I was just passing by, you are the one that decided to have a fight in the middle of the hallway.” He keeps walking in your direction and purposely passes in between you two, arms still raised in the air. Your mind fogs for a moment as his scent takes over your brain and his eyes lock into yours. Something flashes in his dark brown eyes; something you can’t quite place, but that you’re sure it’s his wolf showing himself for just a moment. “See you around,” he waves as he disappears around a corner.

“I fucking hate that white-haired freak,” Niragi mumbles beside you. “I swear to God, if he even thinks about touching you, I’m shooting-”

“And if I want him to?” you say without much thinking. “At least I would be-”

Your breath is taken out of you as Niragi presses you against a wall.

“Say that again,” he practically growls in your ear as his chest presses against your back. Heat pools between your legs instantly, and you want to curse yourself; your wolf could at least have a little dignity. His nostrils flare as he buries his nose on your neck, right above your pulse. You feel the piercing of his tongue on your skin, and you shudder. “I’ll make you say those exact words again while I’m deep inside you, and let’s see if you’ll want him by then.”

“Ge- get off me, you brute,” you manage to say.

“Yeah?” his crotch presses against your ass, and you feel him growing hard, “Now say it like you mean it.”

“Hmm-hmm.”

You press against him, giving in just a little. He does make you feel good. His mouth starts gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck. You moan.

“Niragi.”

You jump at the sound of someone calling his name right behind you, hurriedly pushing Niragi off of you. The man with the scar over his eyes, Aguni, stands there, a look of barely hidden discomfort breaking what seems to be his usually stoic expression. 

“You guys know that this is a public hallway, right?” he asks with a sigh, “Please get a room.”

He walks away before any of you can say anything. Niragi shrugs and tries to pull you against him again before you swiftly contort yourself out of his arms.

“No, no, no, we’re not doing this,” you point between you two, shaking your head. “Especially not here. We have a lot to discuss.”

Niragi sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” he says in a reluctant tone. “Let’s find something for you to change into, then,” he says with a smirk, signing at you to follow him. “And we’re not done here.”

“Hm, we’ll see about that,” you retort, following him.

He leads you through the building while explaining things in a bored tourist guide tone; how they manage to have water by harvesting rainwater, how electricity is powered by generators, and how things are organized every time there’s a game. You also ask small things here and there, like how many people live at the Beach and what everyone usually does for fun. He answers you semi-patiently. He finally stops at a door, opening it to reveal a room that you guess was configured to be a storage room for clothing.

“Choose whatever you want from here,” he says before giving you a plastic bag and leaning against the threshold. “Take your time.”

You go through the room, promptly avoiding anything too flashy or colorful; the last thing you want is to get unwanted attention. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you search through the clothes; you keep wondering if this was the safest choice. Too late now, anyway. You wish Niragi had at least let you keep your knife; you hate feeling defenseless.

After some rather quick browsing, you end up choosing a simple, black one-piece, together with two pairs of too-short jean shorts and a too-thin jacket hoody. You also pick up some underwear and two or three pairs of shirts.

“I’m done.”

Niragi takes the bag from your hands without a word, extending something to you. You take it; is a wristband with a number attached. Forty-two.

“Is this my number?” you wonder. He nods. “Isn’t this a little too high? I just got here, after all.”

“You don’t have many valuable cards, so that’s the highest number I could get you for now,” he says with a shrug.

“But I said-”

“Yeah I know what you said, just put on the damn thing, will ya?” he says in a harsh tone. You hesitate for a moment before putting it around your wrist; you won’t fight him more on this particular subject. You intend on getting an even higher number, anyway; you want out of this place as quickly as possible. He seems pleased when you don’t talk back. “Good girl. Now let me show you to your room.”

You ignore the feeling his words of praise make you feel and follow him close behind. Your room ends up being a large bedroom on the upper floors of the hotel, luxurious but simple in style, with a balcony that gives you access to the best views. It also happens to not be your room at all; his scent is everywhere. 

“This is your room,” you say matter of factly, turning to him with a sigh. “Am I not allowed to have my own room?”

“No, you’re not,” he says back, dropping your bag of clothes on the bed. “Now change.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling annoyed. It’s like he’s set on getting you angry. “I won’t share my room with a stranger. I want my privacy.”

“A stranger?” he growls, stopping right in front of you. You keep your eyes firmly locked on his, even when his hand grabs your chin with a little too much force. “What we have is stronger than anyone else in this place could even begin to comprehend. I’m not gonna let you ruin it because you’re too stubborn to fully accept yourself. That is not my problem.” His words hurt you more than you care to admit, and you have to fight the tears that threaten to overflow your eyes. “Want a fucking room to yourself? Fine,” his grip on you tightens. His eyes are like fiery ice. “But stop rejecting me, or you’re gonna regret it.” 

“You’re hurting-”

“I made you a promise,” he continues, “When you’re finally in heat and ready to take me completely, I’ll do it.” His lips brush against yours, and you shudder, “And you’ll take me, like the good little wolf that you are.”

His kiss is like a fire that burns you from within. His touch sends sparks all over your body, and you feel your wolf howling with desire, despite the feeling of his cum still on your thighs from just hours earlier. His hands pull you flush against him, and you have to control a moan as his hand gets inside your shorts to squeeze your ass. His other hand is still on your face, keeping you in position as he devours your mouth, tongue pushing against your own so forcefully that you feel like you’re going to choke.

He’s pushing you against the mattress moments later, forcing a knee in between your legs. You grind on his thigh, wanting to feel him even closer; it almost hurts how horny you are. He keeps kissing you until you’re gasping for air, moving his lips to suck on your neck as you whimper his name. 

“Could any stranger make you feel like I do?” he whispers in your ear, “I’m no fucking stranger.” he bites your earlobe. “I’m your fucking Alpha, and you’ll respect me as such.” He suddenly turns you on your stomach, and you freeze. “How about I fuck you like an animal? Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate your wolf side more.” he says as his hands start pulling your shorts down your legs. You’re frozen in place, fog dissipating to be replaced by growing panic.

“No, wait-”

“Learn your fucking place,” he says as he pulls you up against him by the hair, hand sliding down your front to rip your shirt. “Take me like you were born to do.”

“Niragi, please-” you plead as you try to push him away. He doesn’t listen, pushing you back on the bed as the shirt finally leaves your back. You whimper when the cold air hits your naked skin.

You can hear a feather fall in the silence that follows. You keep frozen, face down on the sheets as tears fill your eyes. He stopped touching you, and you know what his eyes are seeing. You can feel them, burning into your back like hot iron.

“Who did this to you?” he asks in a tone you can’t quite place. You don’t answer; you can’t even face him. You don’t want to see the look of disgust or pity in his eyes. You fail to control the sob that leaves your lips, and simply shake your head, curling your legs under you.

Another moment passes before you feel something covering you. You don’t look, even when you feel him stand up away from the bed, his footsteps sounding to your right as he opens a door. You peek then and see Niragi, shirtless, by a closet. You gasp. He retrieves another shirt and puts it on. He closes the wardrobe door and you lock eyes through the mirror that appears. His eyes have no emotion on them as he averts his gaze and walks out of the room, closing the door without a sound.

You slowly stand up on the bed, still trying to control your gasping breathing. His back. You dress the item of clothing he put on you; his shirt. His scent involves you, and it instantly calms you down.

His back.

Maybe you’re not so different after all.

You wake up startled by the sound of the bedroom door closing. The room is dark, and you force your eyes to identify the tall figure standing by the door. Not that you need to; you can smell him. Him and the reek of alcohol as he gets closer. You pretend to be asleep as he stops right in front of you.

“You kept my shirt,” he says like he’s surprised. You had; after he left you had taken a long warm shower and immediately got in bed, his shirt around you to comfort you. You hear him go to the other side of the bed and sit down. You hear his boots hit the floor as he throws them somewhere across the room. Then he’s laying beside you with a sigh.

“Lie, abuse, betrayal, murder, steal,” he pauses briefly, “I’ve done it all. More times than I care to count.” Your body tenses, but you keep quiet. He lets out a humorless chuckle, “I know you’re awake.” You hear him move to his side, and feel as his fingers start playing with your hair. “I’ll let you know this, though. The next person that dares to even lay a finger on you is getting a fate worse than death. I promise.”

You stay quiet, even as you feel tears sliding down to your temple. His words shouldn’t make you feel like this; like you matter. Like he loves you. You know he doesn’t; not really. But you can’t stop the warmth that fills your heart at hearing his words and feeling his hand in your hair. People always told you how Omegas should feel, but you never understood; you are starting to now.

You turn around when you hear his breathing slow down to a soft snore. You close the gap between you by curling up against his chest, smiling when his arm goes around your waist.

For the first time in weeks, you sleep without nightmares.

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