#i normally prance about my apartment in the dark
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Just watched Talk to Me for the third time
When will that movie stop being so good?
#not to say the latest horror movie is my favorite ever but honestly#i think that one will remain in my top five until the day I die#horror#talk to me#talk to me 2023#talk to me 2022#just hands down it's brilliant writing#not a second is wasted#not a line of dialogue is out of place#some movies have THE scene#this one has at least three times I go OH SHITTTT#every time#i normally prance about my apartment in the dark#legit last night i was creeping around in the dark#thought of rhea's face#lights went on
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hii!! can you write about momo spanking reader for wearing a short skirt, then making reader ride her face as sana plays with readers bouncing boobs đ”âđ«
out for display
synopsis: exactly what the req asked for
warnings: dom!momo switch!sana sub!reader - degradation, cursing, spanking, face-riding, cunnilingus, sanaâs a little obsessed w boobs
w/c: 3.2k
a/n: u horny mfs
you can feel the set of eyes that's been fixed on you since the beginning of rehearsal.
normally momo was the most focused during dance practices, but today, even the instructors had noticed her lack of attention.
"momo!"
the eyes leave you and you catch her panicked gaze and red-tipped ears in the mirror.
"go home. if you're not going to be serious about practice today there's no point in you being here."
"but- i-"
"go home. come back tomorrow with a better attitude. you're a senior in this industry. people look up to you. you can't be off daydreaming and slacking off when trainees are itching to be where you are."
momo huffs, turning pink and quickly grabbing her bag, stomping out the door. you look at sana sympathetically in the mirror who's eyes follow after her before meeting yours. she rolls her eyes playfully, gesturing something about momo being a child. you snicker in response but you're quickly snapped back to attention when the instructor who reprimanded momo gives you a sharp look, calling for everyone to take it from the top.
the rest of the practice goes by uneventfully. aside from sana sneaking in a few inappropriate butt grabs, which wasn't really uncharacteristic of her anyway, you all manage to get as much of the choreography done as you can without your main dancer present.
sana's all over you on the way home. her hand is practically attached to your ass and you can't help but squirm a little when she sends you a knowing smirk.
"momoring's not gonna be happy with you when we get home."
you roll your eyes, "whatever. she should have been paying attention. you didn't get told off for leering too much did you?"
"no but that's because i keep it in my pants better than she does." she squeezes your ass at that, hand under your skirt and on your bare cheek. it was easier to dance in thongs anyway. less restrictive.
you shoo her away, reaching your shared apartment door accompanied by the sound of her laugh. you insert the key and twist, opening the door and setting your things down, taking off your shoes as you hold open the door for sana to come in as well.
but as soon as your shoes are off and the door closes, you feel your feet being lifted off the ground and you squeal as youâre thrown roughly over someone's shoulder. a hand comes down hard over your skirt and there's a loud smack that reverberates around your apartment walls.
you're flailing around when you realise it's momo who's picked you up and hoisted you over her shoulder, her hand on your bottom, arm wrapped around your legs. you look up and see sana with a mirthful glint in her eyes, picking up your things and setting them aside before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water before joining you and momo.
"momo- what?! put me down!"
"okay." she drops you unceremoniously onto your shared bed, your shirt riding up and your skirt flipped over. you clamber onto your elbows and find that she's crawling over you already, a dark gaze devouring your body, drinking in the newly exposed skin.
"fucking slut." she tugs on your skirt that you're scrambling to pull back down to cover yourself. "getting me kicked out and embarrassing me in front of everyone."
"how is that my fault?" you struggle against her, pushing yourself up the bed so your legs aren't dangling off the edge.
she scoffs in response, "are you serious? prancing around and bending over in this pathetic excuse for a skirt, this is more of a glorified belt than anything." she smacks your hands away, pulling and feeling at the material around your hips. "and wearing a fucking thong underneath? may as well have gone without wearing any fucking underwear, flash the entire rehearsal why don't you. was that what you were going for when you put this on this morning? huh? wanted everyone to see what a desperate little whore you were, just begging for anyone to bend you over and fuck you from behind?"
"'s not my fault i have a cute butt. why don't you practice some restraint?"
she's leaning down, dangerously close, eyes narrowed and pupils frenzied. you gulp. "restraint? you want me to practice restraint?" her voice is low, laced with venom and spoken directly above your lips.
you can't find it in yourself to answer, intimidated but so very turned on with the way she's treating you.
"what? can't speak up now?"
she's flipping you over before you know it, hiking your skirt up and landing a resounding slap onto your cheeks.
you yelp, scrambling to get away but she holds your hips down, pressing them against the mattress.
there's another slap and you're fingers grip the sheets, squeaking out again at the sting.
you hear a whistle behind you, and you know sana's entered the room.
"what's going on here darlings?"
"teaching our baby a lesson."
"oh yeah? what for?"
you can imagine the look on momo's face, her gaze steely with rage and scorn, the mental image only serving to soil your panties even more.
sana giggles, unbothered, "don't gimme that look momoring. i didn't have a problem keeping it in my pants."
momo grunts, âwhatever. you fall out of line and iâll give you the same treatment sheâs getting.â momo lands another hit on your cheeks, punctuating her sentence.
sana rolls her eyes, âlike i wouldnât like that anyway.â
momo sends her a glare and sana laughs, moving towards her to tilt her chin up and kiss her.
the fact that you canât see them but you can hear the wet smacking of lips, the little whimpers sana lets out and the sighs momo exhales, has you squirming all the more.
âg-guys please- please-â
slap.
âshut up- mmf- weâre not talking to you.â momo talks between sanaâs kisses, sana pays you no mind, sliding onto the bed and rubbing her hands over momoâs shoulders.
so youâre forced to shift and wriggle under momoâs palm while tortuously listening to your girlfriends get progressively more turned on, get progressively wetter while you're laid on your stomach unable to do anything about it.
you hear when they break apart and momo starts kissing down sana's neck, the shuffle of clothes coming off and bra clasps being snapped open, youâre grinding down into the bed desperate for any sort of stimulation. then you hear full-blown moans when hands start grabbing at breasts and rubbing nipples between fingers. you're preening your ears, trying to catch every word, every gasp, every moan, but even when sana's whispering the dirtiest words into momo's ears while momo's mouth is attached to sana's neck, you can't catch any of it, completely left out and untouched.
that is until sana speaks up, intending for the both of you to hear now, "momoring~ i wanna see her pretty chest heaving. can she ride your face? pretty please?" you can visualise the pout sana has on her, no-one could resist that face, you have been at the receiving end of that many times. when sana pulls that face, she always gets what she wants.
you turn crimson at the mental imagery, slick running down your thighs in anticipation, "yes! please please momo please-"
slap!
"how. many. times. do i. have to. tell you. to shut. up." she lands a slap with each word in rapid succession, your ass burns in pain and pleasure. "she wasn't talking to you slut. speak again without being spoken to and i'll gag you."
you whimper into the sheets, thighs rubbing together to get any sort of friction.
"tch. you're lucky sana babies you. if it were up to me you wouldn't be getting anything at all today." she's shuffling up the bed but you don't dare move, straining all your senses to get any clue on what was happening.
then momo pulls your hair, not gently but not too rough either, just enough to get you gushing. she turns your head to face her on the bed, she's already lying down, not looking at you, eyes trained on the ceiling, but you can tell from the way her pupils are blown and her breathing is heavier that sheâs just as turned on as you are right now. "well? give her a show. you'd love to be on display like the slut you are wouldn't you?"
you scramble up, catching a glimpse of sana smirking and completely naked, a hand between her thighs, the other one groping a breast.
momo's also been stripped, you drink in the skin as you clamber over her, sana sliding forward sultrily so she's grinding down on momo's abs. you'd feel jealous but in that second, momo pulls your thong to the side and slides a tongue along your cunt, her hands gripping your thighs to bring you down harder onto her face, and any thoughts that werenât pure pleasure and relief vanish from your head.
the choked out moans you let out at finally being touched, finally being able to see your girls, you were so tightly wound up already.
sana's got that lidded gaze, dragging herself along momo's abs just a little rougher at the sight of you, bringing a hand up and under your shirt, grasping a breast between her fingers and squeezing. she has you lurching forward, but momo's grip on your thighs is firm, holding you up while she licks stripes of fire up your spine.
sana giggles, gasping, the sound quickly turning into a moan as her clit catches on the ridges of momoâs stomach, but her sweet sweet smile remains, itâs pornographic the way she looks, how she sounds, sheâs unreal.
your attention is divided though, from sana pulling at the hem of your shirt to get you to take your top off, and momo sucking your clit into her mouth, its hard enough to think as is.
"there we go. that's my pretty girl." sana giggles again when she manages to unhook your bra, tugging it off and throwing it off to the side.
"god look at the two of you. my pretty darlings. look at you, your chests heaving up and down in sync, those pretty pretty tits. you both drive me positively insane." she tilts her head back, the tone of her voice lilting as she brings a free hand to rub at her clit. âhow- ah- howâs she taste momoring?â
momo slurps at you noisily in response, you buckle at the feeling, her hot tongue thorough and firm, not missing a single sliver of skin, sheâs absolutely devouring you.
sana chuckles lightly, reaching back and parting momoâs thighs, running a finger lightly down momoâs wet pussy. momoâs hips buck up at the motion, only serving as a harder board for sana to slide across when her abs tense in effort. sana keeps a finger rubbing circles on momoâs clit while she moans unabashedly and leverages the ridges and lines on momoâs stomach.
when sana dips a finger into momoâs pussy, momo moans around your clit, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your body.
youâre desperate to talk, to voice just how good she was making you feel, but you were terrified of the warning she gave about gagging you if you spoke without being spoken to. you hated the gag, it always left you in tears and your jaw sore.
sana saves you, a twinkle in her eyes that barely come up to wink at you before drifting back down to your bouncing breasts. she loved a show. âwhatâs wrong sweetie? want to talk hm? always one for words arenât you? go ahead. momoring wonât gag you, she loves to hear how good she makes you feel even if she wonât admit it.â
momo canât even reply, her face stuffed full with your cunt.
âf-fuck oh god- momo fuck- thatâs so good right there oh shit- mm oh my fucking god youâre so good-â
sana giggles at your eagerness, edging you on when her fingers that were inside momo come up to twist at a nipple, the slight sticky shine on them is vulgar.
âah-! fuck sana- oh my god not- oh youâre so pretty i canât- you look so pretty-â
âwhat are you saying darling? think your mindâs turning to mush with how good momoâs tongue feels inside you hm?â
âfuck- yeah- canât think-â
âshh you donât have to think sweetie. just ride her face and look pretty for me. the both of you- god- youâre gonna make me cum-â
her movements speed up as she glides along momoâs stomach faster, harder, her breath catching, fingers rubbing tight rough circles onto her clit before she cums, head thrown back in a silent scream, sweat dripping down her throat, you want to lap her up.
that thought reminds you of the one thing that gets sana just a little further while sheâs cumming.
so you lean forward as much as you can, momoâs arms supporting your body, still drinking you dry, dangling your tits in front of sanaâs face once her head comes back down.
her blazed eyes meet yours just for a second before she grins, taking a nipple into her mouth and sucking, moaning around it while she rides out her orgasm, her oral fixation fulfilled.
the sight of her cum staining momoâs stomach, the feeling of momoâs wet hot tongue inside your throbbing pussy, and sanaâs perfect mouth suckling on your tit, itâs enough for you to cry out and cum as well.
momo slurps you up happily, her own hips grinding up into nothing of their own volition. you try to pull yourself up but a tug at your nipple and a hint of teeth sinking in, as well as momoâs firm grip on your thighs traps you there, writhing and moaning as you cum for them.
when they finally let you go you collapse on your side next to momo, breathing hard and pussy still tingly from the aftershocks of pleasure.
you can barely move but when you hear the sweet sounds of momo moaning you force yourself to roll onto your stomach and turn your head to see her eyes clenched shut, mouth open, and hand tugging at brown locks between her legs.
you rub your thighs together at the sounds, the moans and sloppy wet kisses sanaâs leaving on momoâs cunt.
momo feels your eyes on her and turns her head, her eyes peeking open and you whimper a little at the sight, clenching around nothing.
âyou can kiss me.â
thatâs all the permission you need, rushing forward and almost smacking your teeth together in the hurry but she adjusts and itâs hot and wet and now sheâs moaning and gasping those illegal sounds directly into your mouth.
you can tell sheâs getting close when her throat gets all high-pitched and whiny and sana moans at the way she pulls on her hair, tugging her impossibly closer so her entire nose, lips, chin is drenched in her essence.
your hand lazily goes to a tit, grasping at it and letting it spill between your fingers, feeling the hard little nub against your palm and rolling it around. you go to the other breast and repeat, just playing with her and feeling her up.
âoh fuck thatâs- right there sana-â momo pants into your mouth, hips bucking upwards.
sana licks and sucks, eager to make her baby cum, and that eagerness is translated easily when momo moans and does exactly that. you take the opportunity while sheâs slack-jawed and mouth open to lick into her, tasting yourself on her tongue and humming in satisfaction. sana continues eating her out, helping her through it and you squeeze her tit lightly, trying to prolong the heights of her pleasure.
when she comes down sheâs sighing into you, able to kiss you back lovingly, and sanaâs sliding up her body, kissing her stomach, her breasts, momo has to pull her up by her hair when she latches onto a nipple, too sensitive to let her have her fun. sana pouts but adheres, kissing up her neck and whispering how well she did and how good she tasted into her ear.
momoâs lips part from yours as she turns her head to reconnect with sana. you snuggle into momoâs neck, sliding your hand down to her stomach and wrapping your arm around her, cuddling in and closing your eyes.
sana doesnât let you fall asleep though, breaking apart from momo and tilting your head up slightly to kiss you. you hum at the taste of momo on her tongue, breaking apart gently and nuzzling back into momoâs neck.
but when you feel a hand sneaking down your back and flipping your skirt up again, fingers gently tracing your ass, you whine, the sensitivity from being spanked still there.
you can hear sana tsk, âwe need to get some cream on that darling. is that okay?â
you hum, not bothering to open your eyes when you feel sana leave the bed, clinging onto momo.
momo turns her head and kisses your forehead, ââm sorry baby. was i too rough? does it hurt a lot?â
ânoo it was perfect. you didnât hurt me at all.â
âokay. donât wear this skirt again in public. you can wear it at home or when its only us but not for anyone else.â
you pout into her neck, âi was wearing it for you! i donât care what other people think. just wanted to be pretty for you.â
âand youâre always pretty for us baby. but i donât like when other people look at whatâs mine.â
you hiss when you feel the touch of cool cream against your ass, sana dipping onto the bed again and carefully applying it over your skin.
âmomoring just let her be. they can look but they canât touch like we can right? they donât get to hear or see all the pretty sounds and faces y/n makes when she comes apart.â
momo pouts, looking up at sana, âthe same goes for you yâknow. you loooove to flaunt your body and you live off the attention donât you?â
sana shrugs, âthereâs nothing wrong with that. you both know iâll only come home to you two.â
momo grumbles, shifting a little so sheâs on her side facing the both of you as well, âwhatever. iâll kick anyoneâs nuts if they even think of getting close to either of you.â
you and sana giggle, âthey look at you the same way idiot.â
âyeah yeah now hurry up so we can sleep and cuddle.â
sana rolls her eyes but finishes up, stepping away to put the cream aside and coming back quickly to wrap her arms and legs around both of you, squeezing all of you together and pulling the blanket over the three of you.
âyou act tough but we both know youâre just a big teddy bear momoring.â
momo begins to protest but you lean up and capture her lips in a kiss and her words die down in her throat, sighing gently into you. you break apart with a giggle, nuzzling back into her throat, placing a hand over sanaâs whoâs got her arm around your waist and drifting off.
#momo#hirai momo#twice momo#momo x reader#momo smut#sana#minatozaki sana#twice sana#sana x reader#sana smut#twice x reader#twice smut#samo#twice samo#momo imagines#sana imagines#twice imagines#dovveri
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One Villainous Scene: My First Emotion
As Valentine's Day is the day of love, my Valentine's gift is not one but two One Villainous Scenes featuring love as the central theme, one leaning on the darkly comical side, the other on just plain dark.
This would be former. In the third episode of Happy Sugar Life, Satou has spared the life of Asahi Kobe when she was about to kill him while he lay unconscious, due to something relating to Shio from him and regaining the good sense to know that a murder like this would compromise her and Shio's peaceful, happy, loving life together. On the walk back home, Satou starts to wonder why it was that she'd even thought to attempt Asahi's murder in the first place. She's normally very much in control of her feelings and able to think through all the decisions she makes, so what had made her so impulsive and uncontrolled back there? And so she contemplates:
I'm not new to bitter tastes. But this was on a totally different level. Just remembering it brings back the bitter taste. What IS this? Anger? Pain? A warning sign? It's different from anything I've ever felt before. It's bitter. So bitter.... I have to understand it to control it.
Satou recalls what set her off: Asahi, in his semi-conscious delerium, speaking the vows of love that Satou and Shio exchange on a nightly basis. Satou says that when she heard this, she got the image in her head of "Shio-chan and that thing saying those vows to each other" (and I love that Satou is just insistent on thinking of Asahi as a "thing" and an "it" rather than a fellow human being, like she has to internally dehumanize any person towards whom she has immediately venomous and bitter feelings of dislike). This puts into perspective that what was driving Satou up the wall was the very idea that her special someone, the one and only person she truly loves, could ever be with someone else in any close capacity where he loves her and she even might love him back. And that's when it finally hits her.
She was jealous of Asahi over how he's someone who knew and loved Shio well before she ever met her. It's jealousy that she felt.
Colorful shooting stars rain down in Satou's eyes and the mood of the scene does a sudden hard shift to being joyous, whimsical, and sweet. Soft, pleasant backgrounds and bright colors replace the dark and icky "bitterness" of before as Satou literally prances and skips down the street in girlish glee, now happy to have felt such a visceral, anguishing response of envy, rage, and disgust towards Asahi because these painful feelings are born from Satou's love for Shio! "My first emotion!", thinks Satou as she merrily skips along, clearly not meant to suggest she had no emotions before 'cause she earlier admitted to feeling different emotions in the past, but this is the first non-happiness stirring within her heart that anything to do with her relationship with Shio has made her feel on a deep level. It's the sociopath's first experience of actually connecting with something deep within herself that is purely, rawly, and unmistakably human.
The moment only gets schmaltzier and goofier from there!
That could be said to be the end of it....but only two minutes later, we see Satou get on the elevator to go back to her apartment room when Asahi crosses her mind once again. While still thinking of him as "that thing", she's at least in the mood to use his proper gender pronouns this time as she resolves to ensure he and Shio don't meet.
From unhinged and creepy to cute and pleasant, then back around to pants-wettingly terrifying. Really, what better way to sum up the masterstroke of yandere horror that is Satou Matsuzaka than that? Just as Satou adores Shio, I adore Satou's character. So much captivating complexity and nuance and psychological fucked up-ness. You see all the darkest facets of her and are so fearful and repulsed that you have the instinct to look away from her, yet find you can't because she's already pulled you into her world. You want to know her better, you want to see her in action, and because she is so charming and a lesser evil than others around, a small, secret part of you might even want to see her come out successful in the end.
I guess that can't be called anything less than a form of love. <3
Here's the full scene, from 5:50 to 9:58, in English. And whatever can be said of that fandub, Malina Rose is fucking GOATed as Satou.
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If I Let Myself Love You - Ch 10
My fic for @mlbigbang 2022!
PREVIEW from Chapter 10:
âSo, Adrien,â her father said between bites. âYouâre a model?â
âMm-hm.â
âHowâd you get into that?â
âOh, I didnât have a choice. Itâs Fatherâs business, see, and I basically do what Iâm told.â He spat out this information with an unnerving lack of emotion.
âIs itâŠwhat you plan to do forever?â
Adrien frowned, letting his fork dangle in the air. âForever is such a long time, donât you think? I donât want to do anything for that long.â
Her father smiled again. âHow about when you turn eighteen?â
Adrien chewed in thought, then said, âI have no idea. To be honestâŠpeople donât usually ask what I want.â As he took another bite, she realised he was studying her fatherâs face the way he did when he was trying to work out if heâd said the right thing or not. âErâŠsorry if thatâs not an answer you like to hear.â
Her father shook his head and cleared his throat. âNo, no. Youâre onlyâŠfourteen?â
Adrien nodded. âFifteen in December.â
âPlenty of time.â He gestured at his daughter. âNot everyone is like Marinette, here â she was sure that she wanted to work with clothing as young as four years old. She used to dress up in this old blanket her nona knitted for her and prance around the house, insisting that everyone call her the Knitting F â â
âOkay, Papa, thatâs enough of that!â Marinette cried, putting up her hands in alarm. âAdrien doesnât want to hear about that.â
Adrien beamed. âOf course I do!â He turned back to her father. âThe Knitting what?â
âFairy,â her father supplied.
Marinette dropped her head into her hands.
âThatâs fantastic,â she heard Adrien say at her side. âI wish I felt that passionate aboutâŠanything, really. I must sound really unmotivated, but itâs not true. Iâm always searching for that thing that sparks me up. Something to fall in love with and never stop falling, so I can never get enough of it. I really admire people who find it.â
Marinette slowly lifted her head and dared to look at him. Where did I find this boy?
Keeping Reading at Ao3
Itâs hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinetteâs friend â or maybe even more â her life is turned upside down again. How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his ownâŠ.
*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. Half funny / fluffy and half heavy but with a happy ending. Please read tags. *** Rating: Teen and up
#ml fanfiction#mlb fanfiction#ml fic#mlb fanfic#fanfiction 2023#ml big bang#ml big bang 2022#miraculous fanworks#adrienette#adrinette#ml adrien#ml marinette#marinette#adrien agreste#tom dupain
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Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader
Summary: You meet Sugawara on an online dating app expecting something tame, but get more than you expected. (~3.1k words)
Warnings:Â fem pronouns, fem!reader, some features are described ***, dom/sub dynamics, collaring, daddy kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, spanking, edging, toy use, restraint use, sub drop
A/N:Â Again, this was a commission so some features are described!! Otherwise, please enjoy my first longer BDSM fic.
---
Being alone in your bedroom at 9pm on a Friday night may have felt like a loss on any other day, but today, with your phone buzzing non-stop and every neuron in the sexy parts of your brain firing, you could not think of anything else you would rather do.
Well, actually you could think of a few, and most of them involved slipping out of your pajamas and slipping under your new flame.
Sugawara Koushi.
A name like that sounded sweet. Maybe even bland. Safe.
When youâd swiped right on his profile on the tamer of your social media apps, youâd expected someone mild-mannered and easy to speak to. He was an elementary school teacher with soft features, white hair and a cute mole under his left eye. He couldnât possibly be as forward as the other guys youâd dealt with over the years. A tame, responsible choice.
Youâd started texting back and forth quickly, with polite, formal introductions which progressed to cute messages and long phone calls, and youâd even managed a very chaste first date where heâd picked you up at 8pm on the dot and taken you to a fine restaurant on the water.
You normally would have expected to be dicked down that night, and had paired sexy lingerie under your silky mauve dress for exactly that, but you werenât too surprised when he left you at your doorstep with a peck on the forehead.
The only unsettling thing about the kiss was the way his eyes had lingered on your lips, just as his fingers trailed the curve of your jaw as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was too practiced, too⊠dominant.
You suspected he was holding something back.
And he was, because once youâd ventured to call in the middle of the night, a little bit tipsy and yearning for a little bit more than a smile and a gentle touch from him, youâd broken some sort of dam.
Heâd called you a needy, desperate, pretty little slut, desperate for Daddyâs cock but needing to prove herself that she was willing to ride with Daddyâs very, very strict set of rules first, and youâd practically cum at the sudden turn of his voice.
Now anything was fair game.
I have⊠particular taste. Are you sure you can keep up, princess?
The warmth between your legs and the image of full balls and a weighty, rigid cock told you, you would absolutely be ready for anything he had in store for you.Â
Yes, daddy. Iâm up for anything you want.
You, of course, couldnât see the wide smile spreading across his face on the other end, as he palmed his cock slowly while reading your texts and admiring your nudes, and texted back:
Weâll need a shit ton of rope.
---
Sugawaraâs hands are much larger than youâd anticipate, and rougher, and you wonder how much of it is due to high school athletics or from the fact that heâs quick to slap or spank you at any chance he gets. Your skin is sometimes red, sometimes bruised, and always marked, and itâs exactly the way you like it.
The first time you have sex, he starts you off as though you are the most shy of virgins even though you claim that youâre not exactly inexperienced.
âI wouldnât want to break you, pretty girl,â he teases, as his hands worship your body, tracking down your waist to the center of your legs, and patting your cunt softly. Today, heâs promised to focus on your pleasure only because he wants to âbreak you in.â You wonder how many heâs âbroken in,â then you realize you donât really care. Youâre his one and only princess right now, and you intend to be for quite a while.Â
The pleasure of being a good dom is that he can choose to serve - he can choose to be doting and he can choose to be harsh with punishment. Since itâs your first day since youâve entered this contract with him, heâs decided to focus on the catering part of his personality, and familiarize you with his desires.
The rose-gold Turian collar on your neck compliments your skin well, he takes note, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and leans you against him while you are seated on the edge of the bed and heâs kneeling just so before you, fingers deep in your cunt.
âYouâre gonna keep that pretty little thing around your neck, arenât you, pretty baby?â
His fingers move so fast that itâs hard for you to speak, and the arm thatâs wrapped around your waist and keeping you flush against him is tightening the longer he continues. Heâs a lot stronger than he looks, you know from every heavy spank heâs given you.
âI-I will, daddy, every day and every night,â you pant out, your tongue lolling as his fingers curve upwards and his lips leave your nipple with a soft pop and make their way to your quivering mouth.
âGood,â he whispers as he bites your lower lip. âYouâre so obedient⊠I like that in a little one,â he affirms.
---
Heâs kind when he teaches, patient even.Â
Heâs also generous; he gifts you with your first corset, a dark, lacy and tight thing that almost takes your breath away initially, especially when he tightens it onto you himself. Even if itâs constraining, you feel empowered from the very moment you look in the mirror. Your breasts sit high, and you spin once in a gesture of delight; he kisses down your neck as you admire yourself.
âThis is only to get you used to a little bit of restriction,â he reassures, as he pulls you into his lap. âBut I canât deny that you look breathtaking.â
---
Since youâve been so bold as to take his breath away, it isnât too long until he decides he wants to see what you look like when youâre truly struggling for air. After all, the little shiny thing around your neck catches his eye way too often for his comfort, and his pants suddenly feel too tight for a casual grocery store run.
Your safeword is red, like the blood that courses through your veins as his fingers tighten around your throat.
He thumbs your pink, puffy lips, and it would be loving if he wasnât calling you a stupid little cocktease.
âPretty little bambi, prancing around like youâre free to be with anyone other than me.â
The breath that tickles your face is a taunt, because youâre slowly getting lightheaded, barely able to focus on the long index finger heâs commanding you to suck.Â
The pressure he puts on your neck is varying; for moments you can draw a single staccato breath, which encourages him to press his lips to yours and absorb you in a kiss before he reapplies pressure; his naked body presses against yours, rolling painstakingly slow. He hasnât even entered you yet.
Breathplay, he calls it.
You gasp as his cock slips into your wet entrance just as fast as his hand leaves your throat, and he too draws a deep breath as he fills you to the hilt.Â
He lets out a soft laugh as he caresses the hair that is sticking to your face, and readjusts himself yet again - of course, heâs also better endowed than youâd expect him to be - before he picks up speed and chokes you again.
---
âI⊠Kou-â
âDaddy,â he stresses, unphased as he continues to press a small clitoral stimulator to your tender, overworked bud.
âD-Daddy~â you cry out in a soft, drawn out whine, and you shift a little bit because the ties that keep your ankles attached to the legs of the chair, your pussy exposed and vulnerable with your crotch wide open, are starting to dig into your skin. But you canât move all that much, thereâs additional rope around your waist that keeps you against the back of the chair and you think the soft satin that keeps your wrists behind you is probably overkill, even if you have to admit you like the color.
âYes, sweetheart~â he whispers in a voice accented with assertive sweetness, his eyes still lowered and focused on the heave of your chest as he watches you drip before him.
âI-âÂ
You scream.
Heâd angled the toy upwards, and somehow within the small bundle of nerves heâs targeted an even more precise cluster of endings - thereâs a flash of white you see before you cum practically violently, lurching forward so rapidly that he has to keep the chair steady so that you wonât fall over on the pretty little face he adores.
Itâs possibly the fourth time heâs had to ground you in the past hour, and itâs an act of mercy because he had been edging you repeatedly, forcing your pussy to clench desperately around nothing but air.
The way you gush and spray so lewdly onto the chair, onto the floor, onto the hand he plays on your sopping wet pussy reminds him he chose very, very well.
---
Itâs nearly silent and itâs dark now, far too dark for you to see.Â
Your Koushi has prepared you for this next step lovingly, sometimes not so lovingly over the past couple of weeks to build up to this.
The blindfold that obscures your vision is soft and slightly sweet smelling, as though spritzed with a floral scent about a day ago prior to this. Again your hands are bound, but heâs used lined handcuffs instead of ties, and your wrists are before you, not behind you.Â
But youâre lying on your belly, a spreader forcing your thighs apart. He must really love the way your pussy looks staring him in the face.
âYou seem to be a glutton for punishment, princess,â he says, accenting his words with a hard slap on your inner thigh. You gasp, but his hands linger tighten, and are then followed by what can only be the press of his tongue against the stinging portion.
âDaddy, Iâll behave, Iâm so sorry,â you moan as his hand grips a generous portion of your asscheek.
But you wonât behave, because youâve learned that Suga likes just a touch of bratty behavior and that gets him quite physical with you. He knows this just as much as you.
He slaps your ass fervently, the slight jiggle drawing a pleased sigh from his lips.
âYouâre a silly little slut, thoughâŠâ he starts, rubbing a hand along the length of your thigh, âhow can I trust any of your promises?â
His finger travels to your open center, and when he sees you tense up, he stops.
âYou need a firm hand to guide you alwaysâŠâ
His right hand curves again around your cunt and his middle and ring finger finds its way into your slippery hole, while his index taps your clit and his little finger (heâs dexterous like this), taps ever so lightly around your asshole.Â
You shudder.
âArch your back, you little cumslut. Make it easy for daddy.â
As you inch backwards slowly using your elbows and knees to rise up, his right hand continues to move with you, but then his other hand lands heavily on your other asscheek.
It breaks your concentration and you almost fall because it takes quite a lot more energy than you would expect to move this way with your hands bound and your legs spread, but you persevere.Â
For him.
Before you can whine once youâve gotten into position, he withdraws his hand from your cunt.
âNo!â You find yourself shrieking before you realize. You canât have him edge you again, heâs absolutely cruel, you canâtâŠ
âOh, I thought I called the shots here, princess,â Sugawara reminds you, voice honeyed and cruel. You can feel his fingers weave into your hair and the warm tip of what must be his cock prod at your entrance.
âSir, please~â
âBeg.â
He spreads you open with a hand massaging your ass, again tapping teasingly all around your vagina, but he wonât push in to give you the pleasure of having his cock inside you.
Your heart is pounding with desire.
âPlease!â
âPlease what?â
âPlease fill me up, daddy!â
That statement of desire earns you an inch, an inch that makes you swallow saliva hard and your muscles tense with need and want.
âM-more, more please!â
âYouâre so demanding. I would say your eyes are bigger than your pretty little pussy, but you canât see, can you?â
He laughs, but he pushes in further another inch, than another, moving painstakingly slow, slow enough that youâre biting your lower lip until blood is drawn. The stretch is achingly delicious but it leaves you starved for more.
Youâre begging and whining, and soon youâre trying your best to sink onto him further but heâs got you restrained for a reason.
âGreedy little bitch,â he murmurs, but he kisses your neck lovingly as he fills you to the hilt.
The unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and minimal friction fills the room but you care less about sound, only about the slap of his balls against your cunt as he thrusts into you from behind.
More. Deeper. Faster. Harder.
Heâs a master at drawing desire out of you, you wonder if you even needed these toys and ties and other accoutrements. Youâre already so utterly wrapped for him.Â
---
Thereâs a movie playing on your screen that you had both been pretending to watch, cuddled together on the couch, your legs resting across his lap. You had barely gotten through the opening credits before he pulled you onto him fully and had you straddle him.
âYou want a snack, pretty baby?â He whispers, as though it werenât just the two of you staring in each otherâs eyes.
Your eyelashes bat and you nod.
He doesnât break eye contact while he reaches for a strawberry, fresh from the farmerâs market youâd strolled through this morning, from a bowl set on the table.Â
This one is drizzled in chocolate, and he runs it along the length of your collarbone, eye contact still heavy and unflinching before he dips down to catch it in his mouth.
It hangs out halfway from his teeth and he cues you to take it from him mouth to mouth. You split half of it, letting the sweet tartness permeate your senses.
His arm hooks around your waist and pulls you in close as he presses his lips against yours. You werenât aware of the glob of strawberry-flavored saliva heâd collected until he draws away, tilts your head back and tells you to open up wide so he can spit directly into your mouth.
---
âSwallow.â
Sugaâs relentlessly pounding an erect, frustrated and thick cock into your mouth, past your teeth and down your poor throat, and heâs close to his release now, you can tell by the way heâs now pressed your face so far against him that his carefully cropped pubes prick your face.
Heâs warning you beforehand, and youâre thankful for the warning because when he cums with a soft, almost angelic moan, his penis jerks inside your mouth ever so slightly, and thereâs a gush of hot, slippery liquid that slides down your throat.
You breathe through your nose. He tastes sweet, maybe itâs because of the strawberries from just earlier today, but nevertheless itâs a pleasant liquid you gulp down around his cock.
He loves the way your throat feels when it clamps around him, especially when you initially gag once accepting his cock.
Youâre perfect.
âCome up, darling,â he bids you, pulling you up from your position on your knees.
âAre you gonna fill me up, daddy?â You mewl softly as he lifts up and carries you before laying you on your back.
âYes, pretty baby, but let me taste your juicy little cunt first,â he says before he dives in between your legs.
---
âYouâre so good for me, you know that, donât you?â
He kisses your neck softly as he holds you close to him while you lay in bed together. Itâs close to 1am and heâs focused on aftercare, caressing your arms and waist and the curve of your hip gently. Youâre facing away from him, not because youâre upset, but because youâre exhausted.
Heâs worried youâre having a sub-drop; after all, heâs spent the last two hours slapping your face and calling you disgusting. He wonders if you forgot to use your safe word.
Youâre new to this and heâs put you through a lot in the past few weeks.
âSweetness,â he whispers, directly into your ear. âLook at me?â
You turn, cheeks still flushed from particularly hard slaps. His heart aches a bit for you, because those sweet lips are pulled downwards into a frown and heâs not sure if those are fresh tears that wet your eyelashes.Â
He kisses your eyelids then rests his chin on the top of your head.
âAre you doing okay, my princess?â
You nod and reach for his face with your fingertips. Your dom softens under your touch because you are so precious to him. His fingers close around yours and he kisses your forehead.
âThe most important thing is your comfort,â he asserts. He taps the collar around your neck that suggests in some way that you are his and he is yours. âYou can take this off at any time.â
You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. Itâs been fun and itâs also been freeing to have him take care of you. Thereâs a soft haze that wafts around your brain lately as you surrender to him. You are in love with him, deeply, in such a short amount of time.
âI would never,â you say, finally.Â
His heart skips a beat.
âUnless you want to buy me a nicer one, of course.â
He chuckles.Â
âYouâre a feisty little one, arenât you?â He remarks. Heâs glad to look down at you and see you smiling again, eyes bright and brown. He reaches for your ass cheek, then raises your leg so that it lies across his hip.Â
Your eyes twinkle with mischief.
âWell, thatâs why you picked me to teach, isnât it?â You raise an eyebrow, and the cheeky grin on your face is enough to make him get absolutely hard again.
Of course, only if youâre up to the task.
Suga bites gently on your lip again, his hand on your thigh.Â
âI didnât expect you to learn so quickly.â
âMaybe you really do have the gift of teaching,â you reply, as you stick your tongue into his mouth.
#sugawara x reader#suga x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#sugawara smut#haikyuu smut#fic: good teacher#not sfw#commission work#mae.writing#hqintheclub
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you cant go back (2)
warnings: fear, miscommunication, guilt, mentions of theoretical gore/injury, dehumanization, referring to a person as 'it', general angst
-
For the fourth day in a row, Lady Macbeth had spurned him.
Roman frowned, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head and tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair.
Lady was old, smug, and occasionally very cranky, but she wasnât deaf like Ophelia-- she always came prancing over once she heard his keys rattling in the lock, delighted at the opportunity to smear cat hair all over his pants and get her claws stuck in his shoelaces.
Yet here he stood, catless.
For the past few days, too, she hadnât been in the house at all when he got home. Heâd been downright worried that first day, uneasy until she strolled back in at dusk.
They had an expansive backyard that their younger cats took delight in frolicking in, but their second-oldest cat was a rare visitor to the outdoors. Lady was first and foremost a homebody, and she preferred a warm body to sit on. Their squishy heat-generating human bodies were the only reason she hadnât assassinated them all in their sleep by now, according to--
Roman cut the thought off sharply, feeling familiar grief pit up in his throat. He shook his head, the motion harsh enough to make his neck twinge. There was no time for standing about and pondering! He had a cat to locate!
A determined jut to his chin, he grabbed what supplies he would need for this perilous journey-- cat treats, a catnip toy, even a tempting cardboard box-- and strode confidently out the backdoor.
For the next half-hour, he wandered around the acres of their property, greeting each of the goats and chickens by name as he checked all the most common cat hidey-holes.
Heâd almost given up by the time he stumbled across the old barn, pant legs covered in burrs and the beginnings of a sunburn across the back of his neck. Whatever delightful cat secrets Lady was so busy with, surely he could discover them when it wasnât the middle of summer.
Just before he could turn around, though, he noticed that one of the doors was just slightly ajar.
Roman felt his brow gradually scrunch up the longer he stared at it. It had been locked up after the last of the old supplies had been moved from it, hadnât it? The last big storm had proved it wasnât weather-worthy, his dad had plans to take it apart for timber, ones that had seemingly been forgotten after⊠afterwards.
Petty inconveniences of getting there forgotten, Roman crept closer on light feet, grip tight on the catnip mouse in his hand. The wind died down at an eerily perfect moment, and he strained to hear beyond those old wooden walls.
Not everything is a grand conspiracy, a voice in his head reminded him, sounding suspiciously similar to Specs, it could simply be someone without housing that took the opportunity for shelter provided by the abandoned barn.
Roman sidled halfway through the ajar door, and froze at the sight of an upright humanoid figure only a few meters away. Something about it wasn't right, instantly putting him on edge. He kept staring, waiting for his eyes to adjust.
(âIâm telling you, these lights were strange even by my standards! Almost⊠alien.â An unsettling grin that was a beat late.)
The figureâs head was dropped forward, but he could tell even from this distance that it wasnât human, with shiny purple-grey segmented skin and legs with knees facing the wrong way. It had spiky shoulder joints, but its arms seemed to be tucked behind it.
(Roman had shoved him off the couch, sour about being taken in by one of his tales, and he hadnât brought it up again.)
Most alarming of all, there were four long, spindly limbs stretched out into the air behind it, seemingly spawning from its back. The legs were spider-like in nature, but shiny instead of hairy, and each one ended in a sharp point. As he watched, he could see the limbs shifting slowly, pairs of them lifting and falling in odd synchrony with the creatureâs slow breathing.
(Roman had been freaked out, and his brother had dropped the subject. He shouldâve asked, he should have known something was wrong--)
âMiaow.â A plaintive voice called, nearly startling Roman out of his skin.
He tore his gaze away from the (alien) mystery intruder, and felt his jaw drop as he took in Lady Macbethâs current position. Loafing on the feet of an insidious intruder?!
For shame, he mouthed silently at her.
Lady blinked slowly and continued to purr, unbothered by his accusatory stare. One of those spider limbs shifted again, making Roman swallow nervously. He really didnât want to see what sort of automatic reaction an extraterrestrialâs stabby-arms would have to finding a cat in its space.
He waved the catnip mouse enticingly. Lady gave him the bland look of a cat who had preferred those expensive feather toys for as long as he had known her. Roman resisted the urge to facepalm.
The insanely dangerous method it was, then.
Putting all his sneaking skills to use, he sidled further into the barn, dropping into a crouch and beginning to creep across the dirt floor as slowly as possible. Each step was carefully placed, almost entirely silent, and whenever those freaky appendages twitched, he froze in place for a full thirty seconds.
The alienâs head remained lax (asleep?) as he drew closer, but Lady refused to entertain his desperate motions for her to leave her ill-chosen bed. At this rate, heâd have to pick her up off of it, and hope that she didnât complain too much on the way out.
He shifted his weight forwards, and suddenly all four of the arms were still, almost taut in the air. Only a couple feet away, the alienâs head bobbed slightly. His time was up.
Clenching his teeth, Roman made a gamble.
He tossed the little mouse toy directly at the space above the alienâs head and dove for Lady.
There was a whistle, like a whip or an arrow sliding through the air, and Roman made the mistake of glancing up as soon as he had his hands securely around Ladyâs body.
All four of the spider limbs had jabbed into the same point, skewering the toy from several different angles. The alien was certainly awake now, and it had four times as many eyes as any one person could reasonably need. Between one heartbeat and the next, those huge dark irises went from staring at the poor mutilated toy to staring at Roman.
Terror shot through him and he gave up on subtlety, throwing himself back as hard as he could and hoping that he made it out of range.
He landed on his back with a whomp that knocked the wind out of him, and flinched as that terrifying whistling sound split the air again, ending in a muted thump. He was so wired with adrenaline that he couldnât tell if heâd been hit or not. Locked in his arms, Lady writhed and complained loudly.
âNot going anywhere,â Roman wheezed, âyou little fiend, con-- consorting with the enemy.â
There were several more whistle-thumps, which was either very good or very bad for him. He rolled to his side, pushing himself up on an elbow and taking stock of himself, braced for the worst.
The alien was still standing there against the central support beam of the barn. Half a foot from Romanâs leg, it's very sharp extra arms had left holes pierced in the hard-packed dirt of the barnâs floor.
âBut no holes in me,â Roman cheered weakly, and then shifted Lady to the crook of one arm and flipped the alien off. âNice try, Space Invader.â
The alien made a deep clicking rumble, but stopped trying to impale him. Instead, it moved to hold all those limbs high up in the air menacingly, ready to stab down at any point. The remains of the toy mouse sat near its feet, cotton innards spilling everywhere like a grim warning.
Roman got to his own feet, wincing at the feeling of Ladyâs claws poking into his ribs as she attempted to kick her way to freedom. He took a moment to stare once he was back upright.
The alienâs skin plates had gone completely pitch-black, only the slightest hints of purple between the plates to prove that thereâd ever been any color to it at all. Roman was abruptly glad that he hadnât encountered it in the dark of night.
Its eyes were just as dark, with only the slightest difference in shades of black to indicate the difference between iris and sclera. Despite his artistic eye for color differences, even Roman couldnât tell where its pupils were. If it even had pupils.
It also was still stuck in one place, despite its legs seeming totally operational. Roman slowly shuffled to the side of it, making sure to keep a few good steps clear of stabbing range, and found that it did in fact have normal arms and hands.
Well. Mostly normal. There were five fingers, but they were all way too long and ended in thick, claw-like points. He thought they also maybe had one or two too many joints.
More to the point, the alien couldnât do anything with these arms because they were bound together at the wrists and tied tightly to the central support beam of the barn. It was stuck there, and going by the aggressive rumbling it was doing, it knew it.
Roman pulled out his phone and managed to take a shaky video of the alien, circling around it to both get a better angle and prompt it to threateningly twitch those back limbs some more. He knew his sci fi tropes, including the one where the alien mysteriously disappears the moment the plucky protagonist tries to tell anyone about the danger. He wasnât going to be called crazy again.
Once he was content with the amount of evidence he had, he made the trek back to the house at a near-sprint, the cat in his arms protesting all the way. He burst through the back door, letting the screen fall shut behind him, and finally allowed Lady to walk on the power of her own four paws. She beelined for the screen door, stood up on her hind legs, and rattled it expectantly.
âAbsolutely not,â Roman told her firmly, nudging her away. âI donât know what it is with you and courting death via Xenomorph, but you are henceforth banned from the outdoors.â
If angry little kitty looks could kill, Roman would be as dead as King Duncan.
Shaking his head, he went over to the ancient landline phone in their kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle, and paused.
Who was he going to call?
Heâd had some half-conceived notion of calling his parents, or that infuriating police officer, or even just 911. What would he even say? âHello operator, my emergency is that I have an alien in my barn, I promise this isnât a prankâ? Even the dial tone wouldnât believe that.
And what if they did get someone out here to verify that there was a real alien? There was little doubt in his mind that law enforcement and then the government would quickly step in, whisking the evil version of E.T. away into some distant Area 51 lab. Roman would never see it-- or get any answers from it-- ever again.
He hung the phone up with a solid click, and turned to face the kitchen.
If he was going to interrogate a hostile alien, he needed to arm himself.
---
Shockingly, when he returned to the barn, the alien was still there.
He had crept up quietly again, hoping to catch it unawares, but this time it had been staring unerringly at him from the moment he peeked through the door, those smaller, rounder eyes wide open under its main ones.
He pushed the door open further with a dramatic flourish, pretending like he hadnât been sneaking at all.
âAlien scourge,â Roman greeted, wincing at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way the alienâs dark gaze sent chills down his spine. âI donât know how you ended up here, but I do know that youâre going to give me the information that I need.â
He pointed the end of his weapon of choice for emphasis, and the alien recoiled with a hiss, quickly jabbing out at it with those back arms.
Just as heâd hoped, however, putting vegetable oil on the already-slick plastic handle of the kitchen broom had made it basically impossible for those single-pronged limbs to stab or grab it. He grinned triumphantly, poking the alien with the end of it. The playing field had officially been evened.
âNow, unless you want me to introduce you to the Earth concept of piñatas, you better tell me what youâre here for.â
The alien was entirely silent, watching him with those shiny, pitch-black eyes. Behind it, its spider arms were vibrating with tension, probably in preparation to stab out the moment he slipped up.
âIâm serious,â Roman warned, poking it a little harder and getting exactly nothing for his efforts, not even a glare. âI know what I saw that night, and thereâs no way itâs a coincidence that now youâre here. It was an abduction."
He paused for effect, and the alien let out a series of clicks and low, warped sounds that sounded like meaningless nonsense.
"I don't speak alien." Roman frowned. "Tell me what happened. Why were you-- or, your-- your brethren or your shipmates or whatever, why were they taking people? Where did they take them?â
The alien made what sounded like the same exact series of noises. Roman groaned in frustration.
âIn-- In English! You understand what Iâm saying, donât you? If aliens are real and have the technology to infiltrate Earth without being detected, they have to have some way of communicating! An insta-translator or telepathy or math nonsense or something!â He threw his arms out in frustration, making the alien twitch.
He paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a stop in front of the alien again and leveling it with an accusatory stare. âYouâre faking it. I donât believe that you canât understand me.â
The alien just kept staring at him, flat plates where its mouth should have been, not a single expression visible on its face. It was about as convinced by Romanâs argument as everyone else in his life, which was to say, not at all. He felt a surge of white-hot anger, and levered the broom at its neck threateningly.
âTell me, right now!â he demanded, stinging tears building up at the corner of his eyes. âTell me where my brother is!â
He shoved the broom further forwards, and the alien snapped its limbs forwards and knocked it away, startling him into stumbling back. It hissed at him again, stabbing at the ground like a warning. He scowled, swiping at his face with a sleeve, and swung the broom handle at it sharply.
The swing went wide, more than a foot from touching any of it, but the alien showed the closest thing to emotion heâd seen so far, half of its eyes flinching closed in anticipation. Roman felt a sickening twist in his gut, some odd mix of guilt, anger, and vindication, and he turned away sharply.
Not for the first time, he wished heâd been the one that had been taken.
Remus wouldnât care if the stupid cops didnât listen to him, if their parents didnât believe him, if the whole town thought he was insane. He would know how to convince an alien to talk, would threaten to-- to crush its extra eyes or cut off limbs or do something Roman was too squeamish to even think up.
If it was Remus, it wouldnât matter if he didnât know what to do. Heâd at least do something.
He wouldnât be going through the motions of life like everything was the same.
Pretending had always been Romanâs specialty, after all.
Roman cast a furious glare over his shoulder at the alien, resentful that it was still staring at him even as he was in the middle of a breakdown, and tossed the broom into the corner.
âIâll be back tomorrow,â he said, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, âand every day after that until you tell me.â
Threat delivered, he stormed out of the barn and slammed the doors shut behind him.
#sanders sides#humans are space orcs#ts roman#ts virgil#space au#humans are deathworlders#ycgb#you cant go back#my writing#writing#sanders sides fic#alien virgil
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Evo-23 (Part 2)
Part 2 - Blackberry Eyes
Pairing: Zombie/Infected Monster (Ji-woon) x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Gore, Horror, Cannibalism, Graphic Gore and Wound descriptions, Death.
---
PART 1Â
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---
âJi-woon!â You hollered as you battered at an infected's head with the small axe in your hand. You slashed at the creature before shoving it hard and watching it fall to the floor. In a moment you were on it, smashing itâs skull in with two heavy blows. The Other, your companion, clicked and gurgled behind you, his back meeting your own before he screeched behind the gag, black veins running out from his eyes and down his arms. Youâd seen him do this many times now, but the unnatural shift in his muscles and the bulge made you shudder. His fingers flexed before he howled, spit flying from his mouth, dripping down his chin as he flung himself at an infected, throwing it to the floor before he caved in its head with his fists. Another stumbled behind him and the other grabbed it by the neck over his shoulder and pulled, dragging itâs head from its body as the rest of its corpse went flying into the bushes. Ji-woon span back to deal with another as another gun shot fired at the two of you. It would attract even more infected. You were sick of it already. With a growl you beat at another infected before shouting again.
âWe need to get to that shooter in the trees!â You hollered.
 The Other gurgled as his reigns flew behind his head and he rushed forwards, his body unnaturally low to the floor like a big cat. You screeched as he outstretched his arms and grappled you, holding you against his body as the veins spread and he sprinted towards the trees, sliding in the dirt, spraying leaves and mud upwards in arcs as he dodged the bullets being fired. With a howl at the hunting perch, Ji-woon flung himself at the trees, claws scrabbling at the bark as he snapped at the other humanâs feet, his gag and reigns stopping him from getting a mouthful of the manâs toes.
The man cried out and aimed the hunting rifle down, shooting a round through Ji-woon's shoulder. The bullet slammed through the Other, sending him flying to the floor, but you clung to the ladder tightly, climbing up to the perch before you slammed yourself into the man. A scream sounded as he was sent flying over the edge and towards the floor where Ji-woon was waiting with open arms, foaming at the mouth at the prospect of fresh meat.
âHeâs all yours!â You screamed at the Other as he gave a delighted gurgle, his arm flopping at his side from where he took the high calibre round to his shoulder.
âNO, PLEASE!â The man screamed before Ji-woon flexed his hands and popped his temples inwards, smashing bone into his brain.
 You descended the ladder slowly, watching the Other prance around the body, heaving and gurgling with fresh blood and spit dripping down his chest. You sighed and carefully undid the gag and reigns, watching as Ji-woon screeched at the lingering infected, teeth clicking and snapping, before he dug his fingers into the manâs hips and dug his way to the bones he wanted to lick clean. You shimmied back up to the perch to get the gun and bullets, sitting in the little chair with a sigh as you tried to ignore the slick eating noises beneath you. The Other needed to eat just as much as you did. Humans were the best food source for him to be able to protect you, but it didnât make you feel any less guilty. Even if this man deserved what he was getting for trying to have you torn apart by zombies after you let him have water. You closed your eyes and clutched the rifle as you listened to the Other swat at infected and command them away. With one eye open you dared to look at the Other as he wrenched the femur from the manâs flesh and cracked the middle of it open, peering into the bloody, gooey mess inside of the hard cortical shell. With a gurgle, he pressed his lips to the end and swallowed the syrupy contents gladly. Your stomach churned and you looked away, fighting the retching that threatened to tighten your throat.
 So you sat in the hunters perch quietly, looking through the manâs back pack for anything useful aside from his rifle and bullets. He had a cleaning kit in his bag for the gun and you leafed through the things with a mild amount of confusion. You knew some things but others were beyond you. Hopefully you could learn. You shook the bag again and watched as a small journal fell out along with some old cereal bars and a compass. You pocketed the food at lightning speed before opening the notebook. The first three pages were illegible scrawl beyond the first sentence.
âI deserve to die for killing him.â
It was repeated over and over again before the dates started to appear and the scrawl became messy writing. Most of it was mild observations about the days he had lived since killing his son. He was infected was written in a lot of the explanation but it didnât seem to make him feel any better.
 âI wish we had let him die of the leukaemia so I didnât have to put a bullet in his head and then my wife.â
 The reality of everything settled heavily in your stomach as you closed the manâs notebook. You only opened it again to tear out the pages about his gun maintenance. The diagrams were crude but would serve you well later on. You shoved the pages into your bag after folding them tightly. The rest of the journal you put away in his bag before you swallowed your tears and moved to the ladder. Ji-woon was finished with his meal, his belly slightly rounded and very little left of the man beyond pieces of grizzle and empty bones. His head was untouched and you felt bile burn your throat before you took it and a small trowel from your bag. The Other watched wordlessly as you dug a shallow grave for the manâs remains, burying them with his backpack before you dusted the blood away with plenty of dirt and a dip of your hands into the algae ridden fountain. Still, the Other followed you quietly, waiting for you to replace the gag and reigns like you usually did after heâd eaten.
 You sat on the edge of the fountain and sobbed softly. A gurgle drew your attention away from your feet and you peered at the Other crouched by your knees, his sticky hands patting your knees in some semblance of a comforting gesture. If he was human, maybe it would have said that it was going to be okay, but the cold hands only reminded you that you had condemned a man to death for the sake of maybe finding out some truths. It made you feel sick again and you reached for the Otherâs hands before realising that the sticky hands were coated in blood and other bodily fluids. You tried not to cringe as Ji-woon reached upwards, his sticky fingers stroking over your cheek, moving along the flesh in a downwards motion towards your chin. His cold fingers tilted your chin upwards so you had to look at his bruised face. His black vein infested cheeks twitched before his lips parted and he smiled wide, exposing his pointed, clot covered teeth.
âSmile.â The Other gurgled as he watched you snort at his ridiculous looking face. It was silly. A mutated superhuman bleeding from his nose, smiling at you like it was some comfort. To a sick part of your brain, it was. Ji-woon wasnât just one of the Others, he was something more than that. Part of him was still human or fighting to remember how to be.
 âIâll try.â You whimpered as the Other reached and tugged at your cheeks, pulling the flesh taut before he let it go and patted them awkwardly, his cold fingers twitching against your warm flesh. With a heave and a shuddering sob, you finally found the strength in your knees to stand up. Ji-woon tilted his head to peer up at you, grinding his teeth and drooling as the black veins over his bruised skin receded back up his neck and into his eyes. His chest bowed outwards with a heavy breath, as though he was about to scream, but Ji-woon simply let out a long, shuddering sigh as he pulled his hands away from your skin and reached for the reigns in your hands. Gently, he tugged them free, and reached backwards to fasten the gag and attach the reigns back in place. Drool dripped through the gag, despite him just eating, but you carefully looked at his arm. The bullet wound was long gone, leaving only a dark bruise behind, and his arm was back in perfect working order. He flexed the muscles and twisted his fingers as he listened to the surroundings, his black eyes quivering back and forth, focusing on a million different things at once. He waited, patiently, like a well-trained hound, as you shouldered your backpack again and brushed off the dirt from your bottoms.
 The Other watched quietly as you headed over and grabbed at the leather reigns, tugging them gently before you started back along the path towards where the blackberries were growing.
âI guess we can go and get what we came here for nowâŠâ You whispered as Ji-woon followed behind you, gurgling quietly as you both kept a watchful eye out for any lingering infected. The blackberries you wanted grew along the bramble infested outskirts of the former city park, growing up the old iron fences. There was a lot. You pulled out a box from your backpack and smiled at Ji-woon as you plucked on of the berries free and chewed the sweet flesh. It tasted amazing in comparison to the bland, plain food items you could get your hands on normally. So, for a minute, you chewed as many as you could fit into your mouth, giggling as juice dripped over your chin before you pilled at many as you could into the container. With some gelatine you could make jams. You filled the container to the brim before pulling a few more off the brambles for yourself. Ji-woon watched from the edge of the bramble patch, his black eyes following the rivulets of juice as they dripped over your neck.
 âCan you eat human food?â You wondered out loud to the Other.
Ji-woon tilted his head as he moved through the brambles, the thorns catching his skin. The cuts healed as fast as they opened and you swallowed your mouthful as he took hold of your fingers, gurgling behind the gag as he looked at the stained pinky coloured juice over your skin.
âCan you?â You asked again.
Ji-woon rolled his shoulders and shook his head violently, as though he was trying to dislodge the gag and you scowled, remembering that he was probably eyeing up your hand as a food source. You snatched your hand away and clipped the box shut, leaving Ji-woon in the brambles as you scampered back to your bag. The Other gurgled and followed on your heels again.
âI donât know why I asked. You only want to eat me anyway. After we find out what happened to you, youâll just eat me and leave the outside of my bones for the crows.â
The Other stopped, holding you in place by refusing to walk on the reigns, his black eyes looking you up and down before he surged forwards and caught you by the arm.
 Ji-woon forgot his own strength, clasping his hand tight enough around your bicep to bruise.
âWhat?â You asked with a small quiver to your voice, âYou canât even talk to tell me Iâm wrong! Youâll devour me just like that man as soon as you get the chance, with or without knowing you were once human!â You screeched, tugging away from his grasp.
Ji-woonâs hairless eyebrows dipped again as he grabbed you by the shoulders this time. He dragged the fingers of one hand down the side of his cheek, tugging at the leather straps of the gag before you dared to reach up and undo it for him. The buckle jingled as you let the gag and reigns fall away, dripping in bloodied spit. The Other clicked his jaw sharply, his teeth snapping together with a harsh grind.
âLook afterâŠuntilâŠhuman.â The Other gurgled before he touched the space over the top of your heart, âF-F-Find.â He chirped before opening his mouth and leaning over in order for you to muzzle him like a dog again. He chewed against the gag as you replaced it, fingers shaking as you struggled to keep yourself together.
âUntil we find about what happened. I know buddy.â You whispered before Ji-woon pressed his cold fingers to your chest again and reached upwards, dragging you towards him by the shoulder. He grumbled, spit dripping from his mouth before he blinked more bloody tears down his cheeks and clasped you tightly in a hug.
 The flood gates opened again, and you sobbed into the Otherâs shoulder, wailing like a child as you clutched his torn shirt and grasped at his powerful shoulders. Fat tears streaked your cheeks as you sobbed into the bloodied material, listening to the rattling breaths of Ji-woon as he chewed against the gag and gently petted your back and hair, running his fingers over your scalp softly before he cupped the base of your back and squeezed again. The touch was comforting in the loneliest way. You hadnât been held like this since the whole event started, and now you relished the cold arms around your body as you sniffled and hiccupped into Ji-woonâs embrace.
âProtect.â He promised against the gag with a hiss of spit, and you nodded, not saying a word as you let his cold fingers soothe the worries from your spine.
âOne day you might not be able toâŠâ You whispered under your breath before you pulled away from him and smiled gently, âCome on then. Letâs go home, huh?â
Ji-woon nodded slowly, his hands twitching by his sides as he watched you turn away from him, dragging the length of reign behind you. With a click and a gurgle, he followed in your footsteps, his head tilting towards the sides, listening for danger.
 The park was not far from the local hospital and you shuddered as you looked up at the building, the windows smashed and rotten, sun bleached skeletons hanging from the windows and laid on the tarmac. When everything had broken out, it was the first place in chaos, and you pitied the doctors who had been turned into meals for the Others and infected on that day. You remembered the bodies hanging from the window rotting that first year, dripping stinking flesh down onto the tarmac where starving infected licked the surface clean. Even the thought now made your stomach churn. You walked past quickly, with Ji-woon mimicking your speed, following close behind you.
âThey used to claim that this place was where the first of your kind came from.â You told the Other, âIt was the original test subject who got loose in the hospital and started the whole event on a mass scale. There was some top-secret research place attached apparently.â You spat on the tarmac, âI hope they were all eaten for making this mess.â
 The Other's eyes wandered from the tarmac, looking around at the empty bones before his eyes fixed on the bodies hanging from the windows and Iâm the suicide nets between the two large hospital towers. They had died being torn apart and the zombies that had eaten them were long rotten, hanging through the nets in strewn piles of limbs and jelly. Ji-woon peered at the buildings individually before he planted his feet and stopped in his tracks.
âNo way. Not today, mister.â You cursed at him as he tugged on the reigns, âWe canât go in there. Itâs full of infected!â
Ji-woon reared back again and took hold of the reigns and gag, tugging it insistently, pushing himself closer so you had to look into his eyes. His mouth dripped with spit and blood as he loomed over you, his shoulders twitching. His eyes begged you even if he could not say the words. He wanted to go in there, with or without you.
Your hands shook as you looked at the building and you sighed, reaching for his gag, âOne quick look. Thatâs it!â You insisted as Ji-woon babbled to himself and took your hand in his own, dragging you to the barricaded front doors.
 The doors had been piled with rubbish bins, wooden benches, and heavy dumpsters, preventing a hoard of most of the patients from escaping. You didnât doubt that most of them had probably rotted away in the hallways, but you had seen even the slimiest rotten bodies still crawl. Ji-woon clicked before he heaved the dumpsters away, black veins crawling up his arms as he pulled. They swam up to his fingers where he clenched his hands and howled, tearing away the two dumpsters and letting them clatter down the steps to the building. In response to the groans both inside and outside, the Other hissed sharply, demanding no help as he dug at the planks boarding the automatic doors shut. The electricity was long gone so once the planks were gone, Ji-woon had to heave the doors open himself. You only watched as he did so and cringed, gagging as the smell from inside the hospital was released. It burned your nose it was so foul. The smell of hundreds of rotting bodies rushed out, and you reached for your scarf to cover your nose before pausing and rummaging in your bag for the filter mask you had. It would be better for cutting out any spores from rotting bodies as well. You found it quickly and pulled it over your head with a grumble before you dared to follow Ji-woon into the festering hospital. Â
 The hallways by the doors were littered with bones. Corpses were laid over the remains of others, and you could only assume those were the remains of the infected who had eventually faded from existence too as their brains leaked from their ears and their bodies gave in. Ji-woon lifted a bone to his nose under the reigns, the black strap over his nose wiggling as he sniffed at it and dropped it to the floor again like a used toy. He rummaged through the bodies before tugging at the reigns and gag again. You had forgotten to remove them the first time, and so you carefully pulled them free, letting his mouth free. The Other gurgled, cracking his neck and jaw in his hands before he flexed his fingers and arms in a wave, clenching the muscles tight as the black veins spread over his bruised skin. The muscles twitched as his eyes blinked before they rolled backwards and be bent over backwards to look at you, clicking in a long groan from the back of his throat. His mouth opened in a giant, spit dripping grin, before he snapped back over and rushed forwards, disappearing down the hallways. With a gasp, you rushed after him, listening to the screeching of infected as Ji-woon smashed them against the concrete walls. You had to run quick, following the blood trails down the linoleum floors. With a screech you slipped in the guts of one infected and went flying, tumbling to your knees as you slid through the mess on the floor, staining your hands and knees. The fabric of your combat bottoms was stained a brown tinged red.
 As you fought against the tangle of intestines, you heard the buck fire of a shotgun. The snap of pellets against the wall was followed by the blood curdling scream of Ji-woon. It came from the stairs. You rushed to catch up with him as infected lumbered up from the floors and piled towards the doorway as well. They had no interest in you, covered in zombie blood and guts, and so they cajoled you along in their group as they crawled and hobbled into the opening of the stairs.
âFuck!â Someone cursed from the stairway as the zombies started to pile together, climbing the stairs slowly. It gave Ji-woon an opportunity to heal enough to launch himself at one of them, screaming as blood dripped from his mouth and eyes. His fingers met the womanâs eye sockets and he pressed her against the wall before shoving his thumbs in as far as they would go. She screamed, her legs kicking out at the Other, and you tried not to watch as Ji-woon leaned over to lick the blood and juice from her cheeks, purring happily as his blackened tongue swiped at the snack. He twisted his thumbs with a violent jerk and pulled out the ruined mess of her eyeballs before popping them into his mouth with a happy purr. The shotgun fired again, and you cried out as Ji-woonâs ear and half of his neck was sent flying against the window behind him.
 The Other screeched, flying backwards into the wall before the only sound he could make was a pathetic whistling noise. The small hoard he had summoned were quick to slow and the remaining survivors seemed to deal with them quickly, smashing open their skulls before they grabbed you out of the mess, kicking and screaming. Ji-woon gurgled, blood bubbling in his open trachea before it flopped back and the cartilage started to heal, his hands flying out to grab at your bottoms as a male and a young girl dragged you in front of the man with the shotgun. They didnât dare go near the healing Other but they were quick to drag their friendâs corpse away from him to delay his recovery. Ji-woon gargled violently and slammed his fist into the concrete in an attempt to grab at the foot before it slid away from him. He missed and swooned before thudding against the first step, his nose cracking and bleeding, broken, from the impact. The survivors only then dared to tie him up, grappling his arms and legs, hog tying them behind his back before they dragged him up the stairs away from you. You didnât shout for him, you looked at the floor as you were put before their leader and the gas mask was torn from your face.
 âNow what is someone, alone, doing with an Other on a leash, hm?â He asked as he cocked the shotgun, âYou know what they doâŠso why have you got one as a pet? Couldnât bare to kill your lover? Pretty fucked up to let it loose on people.â
You didnât reply, just looked at the floor. You couldnât afford to tell these people anything.
âFine. Be that way. Weâll see what the Doctor has to say about an Other listening to a human.â He dismissed you and turned, the shotgun perched on his shoulder. They were all dressed similarly, in old, tattered looking military clothing, and you made sure to make yourself a bit of a dead weight as two of them grabbed hold of you and heaved you to your feet. You followed willingly enough as they chatted quietly among themselves, heading up six floors before they dragged you into the floor and relocked and barricaded the doors behind them. You caught sight of Ji-woon only briefly before they carted him into an examination room, their hands full of heavy dog chains and cuffs. Fear churned in your guts as they dragged you into the side room to the examination room and sat you in a chair. They were quick to cuff you to it, ensuring that you wouldnât be able to escape, and you felt your eyes and throat burn with tears as you looked through the glass and saw Ji-woon, naked, delirious, unhealed and chained to a hospital bed.
 You whispered his name but said nothing else as the Otherâs blood dripped down the hospital bed and his neck sealed itself back shut. Still, he was loopy, delirious and upset, throwing his head left and right in an attempt to clear imaginary fog from in front of his eyes. As you watched the Other come around, the door opened quietly behind you, revealing a man in a lab coat, the sleeves rolled up his aging arms revealing puckered scars. The man was tall and thin, almost gaunt, as though his work consumed all of his waking hours. His greying hair was tied back at the back of his neck and a cigarette was perched between his lips. Dark brown eyes looked you over twice, head to toe, before he removed the cigarette from between his lips and blew a great cloud of smoke out over towards you.
âIâve never heard of an Other listening to a human, never mind a human that takes their pet out to snack on other survivors.â he drawled as he puffed on his cigarette and looked you up and down again.
 âHe doesnât listen to me.â You whispered, âHe just uses me.â
âA likely story. My entire group heard you shouting for it. It has a name, which I never thought the Others could remember. Whatever this little thing the two of you have, itâs something Iâm interested in looking at.â he confessed as he looked over at the large machinery Ji-woon was being pushed inside, âBut first I need him to heal that brain of his fully.â
âWhat do you really want out of this?â You asked, looking the Doctor in hi dark eyes. You were shocked by the lack of depth. They were cold and uncaring.
The Doctor laughed at you as he reached into his pocket and slammed down a notebook on the table in front of you before he followed it up with a bulging folder. The front was labelled with a âtop secretâ stamp, but he opened the folder and flicked to a blue coloured tab.
âDoes this answer your question?â
 You leaned forwards as best as you could, straining against the ties around your arms to get a good look at the images and writing. There was an image of Ji-woon, not unlike the image on his teacher ID, and then there was a more gruesome one of him pinned to a table, his eyes peeled open with needles piercing the pupil, back into the optic nerve.
âYour little pet was one of the originals.â The Doctor droned from behind you, âHe was kept here after his first escape and then escaped again before causing all of the problems. The outbreak in the city was all his fault. This hospital was the breeding ground, and he was the catalyst.â
It was like you had swallowed a heavy rock. Your stomach clenched as you realised just why the zombies had listened to Ji-woon's call. He was their master. Most of the infected in the city were his doing. Even the Others might be his doing. You felt sick. You reached quietly as the Doctor only laughed and stubbed his cigarette out in a full ashtray.
 âDid you think he was innocent? Itâs one of the Others now. Heâs killed more people than any of them combined.â The Doctor gloated before he leaned over the controls in the corner of the room, looking at the heart monitor they had attached to Ji-woon. The beep was quiet and there were long pauses between them.
âEven the fact his heart works is a miracle.â The Doctor continued, âAll because of some little human he couldnât bring himself to kill.â
âIf heâs the original, what do you want with him?â You asked meekly as the Other stirred in the other room. The MRI whirled to life, the magnets letting out a high pitch whine as they span.
âTo study him. He might be the cure to the this, and I want my people to be able to live with the knowledge that if they put a foot wrong, they wonât be turned into monsters.â The Doctor droned as he turned to the small control panel and flicked a switch. The magnets hummed and you leaned towards the glass as Ji-woon stirred, his black eyes opening as his wounds finally closed.
 The magnets span and the MRI scanner hummed to life. You held your breath, watching the Other thrash against the dog chains. His shoulder clicked back into place only to be popped back out of its socket as he dragged at his chains, pulling them taught as the scanner started. He was quickly snapped back into place as the outside pully system went tight, keeping his head back and his shoulders pressed to the bed. You gasped as the scan started and Ji-woon let out a horrific howl. It went on for an age, the magnets spinning as his lungs roared until he couldnât anymore, and he spat blood, whining as his eyes rolled and more blood dripped from his eyes and nose. The chains only went slack when he fell back against the bed, his mouth open as spit dripped from his mouth, mixing with the blood he had splashed all over the bedding from his thrashing. The Doctor tutted at the images and started another, initiating another round of howling from Ji-woon, his arms bulging as black veins swam down his face and shoulders then invaded his arms. The chains were drawn tight again, and you cringed at the unholy howl that left the Other as they scanned his brain again. The third scan had Ji-woon pass out, his nose pouring blood as his eyes rolled back and his teeth chattered in his mouth.
 The Doctor looked at the scans, ignoring his creature in the other room and you in favour of focusing in on one area of Ji-woonâs brain. The brain stem was enlarged at the back, with a strange looking organ attached beneath the main area. It almost looked like a tumour. You wondered if he had once been a patient, given the experimental therapy to help with a disease of some sort.
âAmazing.â The Doctor commented, âSo not only has his brain enlarged but thereâs a whole new area.â
âIt looks like a tumour to me.â You commented bitterly.
âThatâs precisely what it is. A tumour growth turned into a new centre of control. The brain stem controls all basic functions down to breathing, but this centre seems to be responsible for the Otherâs abilities. Like the ungodly strength and speed, youâve seen him have. This is the reason.â He sparked his cigarette again and hummed, âIts sad Iâve got to cut it out of him.â
 Your blood ran cold, âYouâre going to do what?â
âA live brain surgery. We canât kill an Other but removing the organ in his brain might do the trick.â The Doctor snorted, âIt isnât human anymore. Why do you think it is? That thing would eat you if I threw you into there right now.â A smile curled his lips upwards at the thought, âIn fact, letâs see what he does, hm? A little live experiment never hurt anyone.â he took hold of the back of the wooden chair and tipped you backwards before dragging you to the door, laughing and wheezing as he puffed on the cigarette. His people looked on in confusion before he demanded for the door to the scanning room to be opened.
âPlease donât do this!â You begged as fear churned your guts and hammered at your heart.
âI thought you trusted your little pet?â The Doctor mocked as he slid you inside the room, your back to the thick glass viewing window, âLetâs see how much he repays you!â
You tugged against the bindings to no avail as the door slammed closed behind you and the Doctorâs wheezing laughter bounced down the corridor.
 The room was silent as Ji-woonâs mouth dripped spit and blood back against the hospital bed, his eyes closed and wiggling behind his eyelids. He was alive. His chest moved rhythmically up and down, breathing wheezily as he recovered from the MRI. What it had actually done to the Other, you didnât know. He was dazed and sleepy, tossing his head with occasional twitches as the veins in his arms pulsed with a black light. It was something you had never seen him do before, and it worried you as you looked at the tied rope and cuffs which bound you to the wooden chair.
âJi-woon?â You whispered softly as the Other twitched violently against the bed, his shoulders bending as his back and hips bucked forwards.
The Other gurgled again as his head rolled towards you, his ears twitching as black veins burned under his skin. His bruised face was covered with them like lines of tattoos, and they were quickly spreading down his chest. His arms were already covered, and you watched them pulse as Ji-woon tugged on the chains lightly. They were slack. Like a chain reaction, his arms bulged, and his eyes shot open as blood dripped down over his cheeks, painting him like a horror as he let out a screech and pulled the chains as taut as they could go.
 There was a commotion outside before a gravelly laugh sounded and the chains holding Ji-woon dragged against the holes, completely slack. The metal slammed against the MRI scanner as Ji-woon tore himself free and flew towards you. His mouth opened wide, exposing the black insides of his cheeks and his slick black tongue. The Other launched himself at your chair, sending you both flying back against the viewing wall. His mouth dripped spit over your shoulder before his tongue dipped out of his mouth to taste your hot skin. He purred at the taste, gurgling just like the first night you met him. Hungry. Feral. Insane.
âJi-woon, please, itâs me.â You begged softly as his teeth pressed against your skin. Heâd already torn your sleeve away and it laid down at the bottom of your wrist.
The Other gurgled before black goo dripped from his mouth and he heaved over your back, letting the spit, blood and black bile dripped over your shirt.
âJ-J-Ji...woon...â He gurgled before he screeched again.
 You flinched, moving to cover your ears, and Ji-woon wrenched himself backwards, clutching his head as he let out a shriek and another howl. You watched in horror from the floor as his back rippled and cracked, the veins spreading like a web over his shoulders and down to the base of his spine. The muscles contorted in painful spirals before he let out a piercing human shout and spasmed violently. He clutched at his hair, fingers tearing scratches into the shaved sides as he tore at the pain.
âStop it! Youâre hurting yourself!â You shouted at him. Ji-woon only flinched away from the noise and collapsed, holding his head against the floor as his back bowed and a great black appendage tore from his shoulder blade. The mucus covered limb spread itself before the pointed tip slammed down against the linoleum, tearing a giant hole, revealing the solid concrete underneath. Another shriek left the Other as he slammed his feet against the floor and scrambled to hold onto something as another black, pointed, mucus covered limb burst from his skin, tearing a wound in his back. It was followed by four more in quick succession, and you tried not to cry as they slammed close to your face.
 Ji-woon clicked like a possessed child, groaning as the limbs lifted him like a spider and slammed against the sides of the room. His face was almost completely black, and you shuddered as chitin plates moved underneath his bruised skin and burst from underneath covering his face like a grotesque, insect like helmet. The slit along the middle left room for his eyes, but there was no recognition as the black limbs clicked along the walls and grabbed you by the rope that tied you to the chair, lifting you close to the Otherâs face. The plates shifted and revealed his mouth, open, hungry, and filled with black pointed teeth. They snapped near your face before the Other sniffed you. He reared back slightly with a gurgle and flinched as the MRI whirled to life. A great, wet laugh sounded as the plates of his helmet shifted and clasped over his ears, protecting him from the noise as his black tongue licked at your hot skin, tasting the sweat that drenched you.
 His teeth tore open your shoulder a moment later.
 Agony laced your veins as you looked down as where the Other was suckling on the gouge. He pulled back and you watched your blood drip from his mouth. A great purr sounded as he hoisted you high with one limb dripping blood over the chair and his body as you felt the area burn with unimaginable heat. It would take you an hour to die and then three more to turn. If you were lucky, you wouldnât wake up as an infected, but as one of the Others. At least then it wouldnât be such torture living inside your own head. Youâd remember nothing, or at least you hoped. You hung from the appendage as Ji-woon peered up at you, licking his fingers as he held you aloft, admiring the bite mark on your shoulder. The Other purred at the taste of your blood until the door slammed open. The helmet pieces snapped back into place, covering his face as the appendages whirled and slammed into the door frame. A shotgun kicked and the pellets sprayed against the hardened tentacles as Ji-woonâs arms grew again, the veins pulsing before his arms turned black completely. Thorns shot out of the skin as he howled and lowered himself, walking on four limbs as the others deflected the gun shots. You were hoisted high above the carnage, woozily swinging back and forth as you bled and the pain around the bite mark seared down to your fingers. As Ji-woon advanced on the people, you felt tears drip from your eyes, down onto his wild hair. He ignored the salty tears as he tore open a woman by her throat, the trachea held fast between his jaws. His maw opened again to tear more meat from her arms, the monstrous tentacles whipping around and piercing the other humans, leaving them with gaping holes, bleeding against the linoleum.
 âJi-woon. Please.â You wheeze above him as he jumped on another person, tearing open their stomachs before he popped the rib cage open and crunched the bones in his mouth. The tentacles thrashed harder growing as the thorns on his arms became tough scales and his helmet moulded to the back of his head, holding his hair high over his head in a crazy spikey updo. You wept softly as he lowered you down to his eyes, black orbs shining inside the helmet before he opened his jaws, the plates parting, now part of his face, to reveal his black mouth, full of blood clots and bone shards. He clicked before reaching out a cold hand and running it up your thigh. He stopped above your knee and then smiled. Blood dripped from between his pointed teeth and ran down his chin, and he whipped his head back and forth like a dog. His hand came away from your thigh to touch the bite mark. He licked away the blood on his fingers before he touched his cool fingertips to your chest, pressing hard over your heart before he pressed them to his own chest.
âWe canât be together like this!â You sobbed, âI wanted to help you, not become one of your thrall.â
Ji-woonâs eyes blinked away blood, and it dripped over the plates over his face, âTogether.â He promised you as he held you away from danger again.
 The Doctor appeared in the hall, and you watched in horror as Ji-woon slammed one sharp tentacle through the manâs stomach, pinning him to the wall with a slam and a great splash of blood. Ji-woon followed his appendage, growling as he met the man against the wall, cracking his black fingers as the ends shifted into points. With a snarl he slammed his hand through the manâs chest, enjoying the blood with a feral madness. He wailed again, the black covering his skin spreading, the plates and scales growing as he let the man fall to the floor. Spit slicked his chin at the thought of the marrow, but with a bite, he was upset. Ji-woon spat the blood and meat after the Doctorâs cries of pain.
âStupid thing. Iâve been dying from the cancer for three years. My body will only make you ill.â He laughed as he reached into his pocket, pulling free a syringe, âBut you might want this.â
You didnât catch sight of it before a tentacle snatched it from the Doctor. Ji-woon inspected the liquid before the Doctor laughed and snatched something from his lab coat. He slumped forwards, slamming the syringe into Ji-woonâs leg. The serum seemed to have no effect, and Ji-woon swatted him away with a smash of a tentacle, sending him sprawling down the hall, his head twisted grotesquely.
 You sobbed above the Other as your arms burned in agony and your chest went viciously tight. You coughed, tasting blood in your mouth as you were lowered again. Ji-woon twitched violently as he presented you with the vial. You read the side and sniffled again. A lethal injection. The poison had already been ejected from Ji-woonâs body, and the clear fluid leaked down his bare leg before it too was covered with insect like plates.
âPlease.â You begged softly.
The Other eyed you, his eyes twitching left and right, before he placed you on the floor and held the needle and syringe in front of your eyes. With one violent movement, he crushed it, and let the millilitres of drug drip from his clawed fingers.
âTogether.â he stuttered again as he linked his fingers and took hold of the back of the chair, tugging you along behind him as he lumbered along the hospital corridors, groaning the word âtogetherâ repeatedly like a ghost.
 When you woke again, you were laid in your small apartment. You wheezed as you looked up at the ceiling, feeling your limbs burn as you dragged them against the floor, attempting to touch your head. A cold hand grasped yours as you blinked away the red in your eyes. An armour clad Other peered at you with warm black eyes. Blood leaked from his eyes and mouth, between the creases of the plates of the helmet covering his face.
âJiâŠwoon.â You wheezed as your chest burned. Agony seared at every nerve as you shivered and coughed blood over his armoured thighs. A tentacle swept over your thighs, tucking you back against the mattress before it dragged your blankets over you.
âTogether.â Ji-woon wheezed at you with a purr before his sharp teeth snapped and he gave you another bite on your hip. He said it again and bit your arm. The pain was already intense. You didnât really register the bites as you raised your other hand and touched his head.
âSo much for finding yourself, hm? I s-should have known⊠that you were a monster all along.â You heaved at him as you dragged your hand over his hair and cupped his cheek, âYouâre still Ji-woon at least.â You whispered as your chest burned and you gasped and hiccupped violently.
 Ji-woonâs arms went slack as the tentacles around him waved gently. His mouth parted, dripping your own and his blood over the mattress as he leaned over your body.
âTogetherâŠJi-woon a-a-aâŠâ The Other gurgled as he reached for your body and touched your skin. You were cold. Freezing cold. Dead. It was as though it all came rushing back, and the Other wailed as he clutched at your body, looking for the veins that should be weaving over your neck and arms. Nothing moved under your skin. You were not going to turn into one like him. He howled, his tentacles thrashing, lashing blood and mucus over the walls as he desperately touched your face and pressed against your throat. He clicked, softly, louder and then screeched near your ears, calling for an Other who wasnât there. Violently, he shook your body, crying for you as he cried black and red tears over your body. There was nothing. The Other wailed, throwing himself on top of your corpse as he heard his thrall thunder through the hall.
 Dead.
 He cried over your body again before he tore open his arms, spreading his blood over your lips before he took his teeth to your neck, spitting and bleeding into your mouth and the wounds to try and get you to wake back up. Your chest compressed with a breath before your eyes opened, red rimmed and burning with an orange glint around the pupils. You were not an Other. A gurgle sounded from your throat, and Ji-woon reached to cradle your head as you slumped into him. His blood dripped over the both of you as he stroked your hair like a doll, combing his fingers through the mess. Your eyes drooped shut again and your chest stilled before your body convulsed against him. Ji-woon knew what it was, and you were close to being with him, forever, if only he could get you to eat. He reached for his own leg and gouged his nails against the flesh. It hurt, but he continued, peeling open his calf underneath the plating. Blood and gore stuck under his fingernails as he plucked free a piece of muscle, fat and skin, dangling it in front of your mouth. Your eyes shot open, the veins in your eyes pulsing with black as your lips wrapped around the treat. Ji-woon let you have it, purring as you chewed and swallowed. It was then that he chirped and slid his nail under the back of your skull, straight into your spinal column.
 The scream that tore from your throat made him flinch, but he held you fast as his skin twisted and a black appendage grew from his pointed black nail, weaselling under your vertebrae before it shot upwards into your brain stem and poked the small tumour growing at the back. Ji-woon focused as his form broke off and wrapped around the tumour, stimulating the centre with new black veins, filled with the mutating virus. Your eyes rolled back as the veins webbed over the back of your neck, and Ji-woon waited for your eyes to go black before he purred and leaned forwards, kissing your dead lips. You only came to when his tongue pressed into the back of your mouth, tasting of your combined bloods and the faintest hint of blackberries. Maybe that was thanks to your last meal? You didnât know but the veins in your neck pulsed and wormed their way down your chest, bucking you forwards, into the kiss with the Other. Your brain throbbed with the taste of food, and you reached up your cold hands to tug at the Otherâs hair for a further taste of what would be your forever. Together, forever with the Other.
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Update: The Raven and the Songbird
Chapter 4
Gwyn is coping. Merrill is the worst. Az is... Az.
Read on AO3
Gwyn rubbed her eyes, the book spines blurring in front of her. It didnât help that sheâd been banished to one of the lower levels, where the dark creeped between the stacks and threatened to follow her. It also didnât help that she had barely slept the night before. And that sheâd come to the library straight from training.
It had been six days since sheâd woken up bleary-eyed after Azriel had left her in the rain. And, as sheâd thought, things were better. She had thrown herself into training and work, but she felt good about how she was managing.
She was tired.
But she could deal with that.
Merrill, of course, had sunk her claws into Gwynâs wounds almost immediately, but she knew how to handle the haughty, hateful priestess. The first few days had been rough, but she sang to herself through the extra hours she spent in the library and let the melodies accompany her as she shelved and retrieved the tomes Merrill had demanded.
Azriel had even returned to training, which was oddly comforting despite this new distance between them. It was almost normal again â Cassian with the advanced females and Azriel with the novices. Neither of them lingered after like they used to, but she couldnât help stealing a glance or two in his direction.
She would have to work on that.
With the last book shelved and her cart filled with new volumes for the white-haired priestess, Gwyn began the trek back up the ramp. She tried not to think about what Merrill would say when she found out that Gwyn couldnât locate one of the tomes on the shelves. Sheâd looked at every pile left on a table or desk but couldnât locate it. If she hadnât already taken too long she would have started inquiring with every priestess she could find â
âWhere is that miserable girl?â
The freckles on Gwynâs nose bunched as she scowled, Merrillâs screech echoing over the ramps. She inhaled deeply and breathed out her sigh, steeling herself for the encounter.
âIâm on my way, sister!â Her legs burned with the extra effort it took to push the cart laden with leather-bound parchment. With her extra time in the library â to help her minimize the time when she was idle and alone â her body was still adjusting to the additional walking, pushing, and lifting.
Library work really was good conditioning.
Merrill was no longer at the rail when she reached level four so Gwyn pushed the cart through the stacks and down the hall to the sisterâs office. Papers and books were strewn about, and the copper-haired priestess wondered how she could possibly keep everything straight. Of course, sheâd had Gwyn to help â that was how.
âI hope you found the time between frolicking and singing to do what I asked of you?â
âMerrill, I was fully focused on your task,â she searched for a way to satisfy the female. âThe work just makes me so happy I canât help but sing.â Gwyn pasted a bright smile on her face as she lugged a stack into the office, searching for any clear surface that might hold them.
âFoolish Gwyneth,â Merrill hissed, not deigning to look at her. âHave you ever thought that some of the females here donât want your songs thrust upon them? Have you ever thought about how they might feel seeing you so joyous when they cannot be?â
The younger priestess stilled, arms growing heavy with the weight of the tomes in her grasp. She hadnât considered that, ever. The library was a place of sanctuary and healing, and she had been experiencing those things. She had never noticed if any of the other sisters were affected by it. Surely Clotho would have mentioned something to her if there had been complaints.
âSelfish, wretched girl.â
Gwyn sighed and set the books down as gently as she could on the corner of a small end table.
âI couldnât find the third volume of The Continent. One of the other priestesses must have it. But Iâm going to inquire with them now.â She turned to leave, hoping she could make it before the wintry female could toss more vitriol at her.
âPathetic, Gwyneth. To prance around happy and content when you canât even perform your basic duties. When you play at being strong and brave yet canât manage to leave the library. You should learn that you are not special. You are utterly plain and ordinary and you should behave as such.â Gwyn kept walking although her shoulders sagged. She knew she wasnât special â had never thought herself better than anyone else. But she also knew she wasnât ordinary. She had been training in combat for more than a year. She counted some of the most powerful fae in Prythian among her friends. She had won the Illyrian Blood Rite.
But Merrill, of course â the cunning white witch â had snagged a claw in one of her buried insecurities and dangled it before her, as if it were on display for all to see. Gwyn still wasnât comfortable with venturing into the city, for all of her growth and accomplishments. She walked proudly most days with a smile pulling at her lips, secure in her body and strength and heart. But somehow Merrill always knew what to say, where to push and prod. She had joked with Nesta that she must be daemati and would just gaze into Gwynâs mind as if it were her own.
Nesta had just said she was a bitchy old crone stuck in a fae body, doomed to live for a near-eternity, and she was just bitter about being alive for so long.
The priestess grinned to herself as she went in search of⊠well, anyone. She pictured the list of females that she would have to check off, one by one, to ensure she found the missing volume. She was nimbly navigating the stacks when a familiar voice reached her.
âGwyn! Somehow I knew Iâd find you still here.â Gwyn paused and turned toward Nestaâs call, smiling wide at her Valkyrie sister. She noticed how the eldest Archeron had started wearing her hair down and smiling easily, and Gwyn felt her heart swell to see happiness reflected in those once-frigid eyes.
âNesta,â she sighed as they met for an embrace. âWhat brings you down here at this hour?â
âWell you werenât in your room,â Nesta fixed her with a pointed look before echoing, âat this hour. Youâve been working a lot.â Not an assessment, nor an observation. Just a statement to the priestess, a signal that she was onto her.
Gwyn flashed the most convincing serene smile she could muster and beckoned for her friend to walk with her. If Merrill caught her dilly-dallying she was as good as dead. âMerrill has been very demanding lately. Spending more time here helps me accomplish more and helps me make sure she gets what she needs.â She avoided Nestaâs skeptical reaction, knowing full well the look in those eyes would burn right through her defenses.
âSo⊠youâre working yourself to exhaustion to appease that witch?â
Gwyn couldnât very well admit that she needed to stay occupied, or that her exhaustion wasnât just because of long working hours.
âYou know how much I value her research, Nesta. Itâs worth a little extra effort.â The two warriors continued to wander through the stacks, Gwyn making sure to eyeball every stray pile of books in search of volume three of The Continent.
âWell, tomorrow night youâre taking off,â Nesta mused, breaking the companionable silence. The young priestess halted, mouth opening to argue. âYouâre spending the night with Emerie and me.â
âNesta ââ
âNo, Gwyn. Youâve been working constantly, barely talking to us after training. We miss you.â She gave Gwyn the most un-Nesta-like face, pouting her lower lip and widening those ice-gray eyes. âPretty please, Gwynnie?â
âOh you know I hate when you call me that,â Gwyn huffed. But her nose crinkled with her grin as she reached up and pinched her friendâs cheek. âHow could I say no to that face, though?â The Valkyries giggled together and Nesta leaned in to kiss her sisterâs cheek.
âPerfect. Six oâclock, the House library. Weâll have dinner and dessert and books and Mother knows what else.â Gwyn smiled as Nesta gave her a look. âDonât work too late, Gwyn. Youâre tired. I can tell.â
âOh, quit worrying you busybody,â she shooed Nesta away as she stuck out her tongue. âIâll see you in the morning.â
~~~
Azriel paced around the group of novices, shrewdly observing footwork, weight distribution, and body position as they moved through their stretching and grounding exercises. Despite his neutral expression he was relatively impressed. It wasnât like him to offer praise in the training ring â that was more Cassianâs and Gwynâs nature â but he could acknowledge consistent improvement he was seeing.
âAlright, take a break,â he let his voice rise into the summer afternoon. âGet some water. Weâll start working core in a few minutes.â The shadowsinger quirked his lip as he ignored their groans and strode over to the other side of the training ring, where his shadows had been pulling him. They had been particularly insistent since he returned to training, eager to be nearer to a certain priestess after so long apart. Cassian stood, arms crossed, observing the sparring matches between the advance females. Gwyn and Nesta were a blur of punches, feints, and footwork as Azriel stopped next to the general.
âBerdara is sluggish. Watch,â Cassian muttered, and Az forced his gaze toward that ribbon-tied hair shining like copper in the sun. Even with her face red with exertion he could see the bruise-like circles under her eyes and the tightness in her features. Her breathing was ragged, shoulders slouched, weight too far on her heels.
âSheâs dropped her left elbow every time she side-steps. Sheâs lucky Nesta hasnât targeted that shoulder.â Azriel tried to sound like the seasoned teacher and watchful warrior, not belying the concern blooming within him.
âSheâs lucky sheâs talented enough with hand-to-hand. If they had weapons I would sideline her,â the general growled, frustrated. âItâs not safe for her to fight in that condition.â As soon as he said it Nestaâs foot connected with Gwynâs shoulder. She swiped the priestessâ feet out from under her as she staggered and she fell with a resounding thud on her back. Azriel winced as he tried to control his twirling shadows â they wanted to go to her, to make sure she was okay. It was an effort not to give in to them.
âWater, you two!â Cassian called over as Nesta and Emerie pulled Gwyn to her feet. The spymasterâs eyes narrowed as he watched her. She bent over, hands braced on her knees, panting. Likely that fall had knocked the wind out of her. He looked up in time to see Nesta approaching, water in hand.
âWell fought, Archeron.â Azriel dipped his chin, acknowledging her effort.
âNo. Iâm not going to claim that victory.â She shook her head before looking to her mate. âSheâs not herself.â
The shadowsinger bristled and his shadows seemed to twitch around him.
âWhatâs going on with her, then?â Cassian asked.
âIâm not sure. I know sheâs working double shifts in the library. Iâm not sure how sheâs sleeping but she seems tired.â Nesta looked between the two Illyrians. âEven if sheâs sleeping fine, spending extra time getting berated by Merrill canât be healthy.â
Azriel grimaced. The priestess â Merrill â had a reputation, to be sure. And to hear that Gwyn was putting herself under so much stress was alarming. He glanced back across the ring and studied her. No laughter, no shining smile.
âIâve staged an intervention for tonight. Sheâs spending the night here with me and Emerie.â Azriel felt Nestaâs eyes on him as she spoke. âWeâll get to the bottom of it.â When he dared to glance to the side he found them both with shrewd stares centered on him.
âWhat?â He knew his attempt at nonchalance was pitiful.
âNothing to offer, Azriel? No thoughts youâd like to share?â Nesta raised her brow to challenge him. Azriel held his mask firmly in place, stoic and cold. But his chest was a chasm, guilt rushing in like a waterfall. He knew⊠he knew the changes they were seeing were because of him. He turned unseeing eyes across the ring, struggling to find a place to focus. But that copper-spun hair shining in the heat of the afternoon grounded him, a tether to reality. He couldnât get the sound of her crying out of his head as he took in her wan features and sagging posture. Smoky tendrils settled over his shoulders in resignation.
He had been a fool. A coward.
He had been wrong to walk away.
Azriel turned from Cassian and his mate without a word, ignoring the questioning gazes and the racing thoughts. Instead he slipped into that quiet, observant, demanding presence with the females under his charge.
âAlright, ladies. Youâve had long enough. Time for core.â
He didnât even grin like he usually did when they begrudgingly obeyed, his mind too full and his soul too empty.
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Home Alone (Reid Fic)
Summary: For the first time since living with Spencer, Reader is home alone and left to brave the figurative and literal storm on her own. Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, One-shot Content Warning: Storm, fear and paranoia, use of a deadly weapon Word Count: 2.8k
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:* ă
It was a dark and stormy night.Â
Too cliche? Let me start over.Â
It was the time of the year when the wind was so strong, even the sturdiest tree would blow over. Meanwhile, the rain relentlessly pelted the windowpane, cascading down the glass at a record speed. In the distance, you could hear thunderâs deafening clap and see lightningâs blinding flash preceding it. The only thing that could make this storm worse?
Being home alone in it.Â
Spencer, my roommate, was never gone for more than two days at a time. He always arrived at the exact hour when he texted he would be, and he never ever left me home alone before his arrival. Without fail, he would call over a friend to stay with me or if he knew heâd only be gone a few hours, heâd drop me off in a public space, where he knew people would see me. To put it simply, if I was in the apartment, I wasnât alone, and I had to think it was because of something he would never tell me about.Â
Without explicit reasoning for his unwillingness to leave me by my lonesome, I could only conjure up theories and inferences that were never confirmed. My best guess was an accumulated paranoia caused by all of those cases he worked on. Iâm betting thereâs been more than one instance where a woman was home alone and ended up dead one way or another, and after all that heâd seen, he couldnât let the same thing happen to me. If for no other reason than he just didnât want to slave over another case like this and have me be the victim in it. Heâd seen it too many times to not learn his lesson. And trust me - Spencer Reid is not a person who needed to be taught something twice.Â
But before I lived with him, I was never scared of being home alone. In fact, I mightâve actually preferred to be alone as opposed to being in the company of someone else, but I think my compliance with his precautionary procedures made me weaker. After years of living with Spencerâs routine, I relied on it for my safety. Iâd gotten so used to the luxury of having somebody around when he was away that this loneliness was so unfamiliar that it left me uneasy. By now, Iâve associated the presence of another person with the feeling of being safe, and conversely, I now associate being alone with being in danger.Â
So if you asked me to sum up how I was currently feeling alone in this storm in one word, Iâd choose âuncomfortableâ, but if you asked me to sum it up in two, my answer would be âin danger.â
It wasnât until the situation presented itself that I realized Iâd never been forced to deal with it, so I never knew what to do when it happened. Never before had I needed to call Spencer while he was at work because prior arrangements had always been made in advance, but I hadnât heard from him since noon when he told me that he was boarding the jet and heâd be home before I came home from work. Was it inappropriate to call him while he was working? I wouldnât know - I never had to do this before.Â
But then again, he called me when he said he was about to board the jet, so if I called him, maybe he was still on the jet and it wouldnât be bothering him. Unless, they got another case as soon as they landed and it required his immediate attention and the thought of calling to let me know he wouldnât be home yet completely slipped his mind. I could see that being a possibility too because even if I was totally oblivious about when to call him, I wasnât blind to the mayhem his job involved.Â
With no good reason to pester him with a phone call, I decided against it. After all, I was a big girl. I could be home alone.Â
In fact, this was the perfect opportunity to do all the things I couldnât do while someone was around. Plus, distracting myself was the only way I could ensure that I wouldnât slip into the same downward spiral of paranoia that led Spencer to enforce this very system.
After my steamy shower, I wandered aimlessly around the apartment in just my towel and nothing else. This was something I hadnât done since the days when I lived alone. Mainly because I didnât want to leave so little to the imagination. Honestly, as much as I love Spencer platonically - Iâm not blind. Heâs obviously a very gorgeous, very single man for Godâs sake, so the thought of prancing around in nothing but a rectangle of terry cloth had certainly crossed my mind once or twice, but if anything, wearing more clothing would attract his attention more than wearing less would. Thatâs just the way he is.
Second on my list of luxuries that came with alone-time was blasting music. This is something I hadnât done in forever. Out of courtesy, whenever I played music, it would only be through my headphones, so Spencer wouldnât be bothered by it. Even then, I think sometimes he could hear it faintly in the background while he read or studied his paperwork, but if he noticed, he never said anything. So to relish in my newfound freedom of aloneness, I turned my phoneâs volume all the way up and danced ridiculously to it, too. Of course, the music wasnât loud enough to disturb our neighbors - I wasnât that insensitive - but it reached new volumes tonight. Louder than it ever had been in this apartment before.Â
Somewhere in the middle of my impromptu concert, I heard something like knocking. It was a distinct enough sound to make me pause my music, but not so distinct that I could recognize where it came from. I wondered if it was a noise coming from my song, like when youâre playing music and you think someone called your name, but when you pause your music you realize no one actually did. But this ⊠this was different. It was too real of a sound for me to be imagining it. I could hear it from exactly where I would normally hear knocking, but now that I was alone, and quite frankly - naked - hearing knocking made my stomach churn.Â
âHello?â I dumbly called out from my bedroom doorway into the living room.
This was a horror movie-esque choice, Iâm aware, and it was usually made by the docile female only seconds before a murderer appeared and chased her up a flight of stairs that sheâd somehow forgotten to properly ascend. But my thinking was if there really was someone knocking outside, theyâd answer me, and Iâd be able to detect the danger if necessary, but in true horror movie fashion, no one responded. Leaving me to hunt further to access the situation. I didnât want to jump to any conclusions, but my mind did exactly that.Â
Youâre about to be murdered. My conscience concluded. Or kidnapped. Or assaulted. Or violated. Or -
Knock! Knock!
My heart accelerated at a pace my lungs couldnât support, not without heavy breathing. It was here where all my logic and rationality flew out the window because for some reason, I started tip-toeing to the door as if not making any sounds on the floorboards would somehow ensure my safety.
I didnât know what I was trying to prove by finally grasping the doorknob with the intentions of turning it open, but it certainly didnât prove I was a âbig girlâ or that I was any less scared because as quickly as I had touched the knob, I just as quickly recoiled my hand away from it and ran to my purse to find my phone.Â
Matching the speed of lightning, I dialed Spencer and sighed a quick sigh of relief when I heard the line ringing. That was a good sign.Â
âPlease pick up, please pick up, please pick up,â I pleaded to myself as if God would hear it and grant me my prayer. âPlease pick up, please pick up.âÂ
âThe number you are trying to reach (702) -â
âFuck!âÂ
Thatâs never happened before either. He never sent me to voicemail, not even when he was away and asleep. Heâd always answer my call. This wasnât a good sign.Â
The knocking went away minutes ago, but my fear hadnât. I couldnât tell you what exactly was so scary to me, but all I knew is that I would feel a whole lot better, and honestly - a whole lot safer - when Spencer came home.Â
âCome on, Spencer. Where are you?â I tried his cell phone probably three more times after the first call, my hope decreasing with each dial tone.
There was nothing I could do but wait. After all those missed calls, heâd have to call me back sometime, but I just hoped heâd be home before itâd get to that.Â
My trepidation clearly clouded my judgement because rather than putting on clothes first and having my priorities in order, I was already reaching for the spare gun I knew Spencer kept in his bedside drawer. He didnât know I knew it was there, but I did. And I planned to use it tonight if it came down to it.Â
One hand held the top of my towel up from falling while the other shakily clenched a gun.Â
Before this, Iâd never actually held one before, but then again, thereâs a lot of âfirstsâ I was experiencing tonight.Â
I didnât expect it to be so heavy - and I donât mean the actual size, but the weight of the object itself. This thing could take so many peopleâs lives, and I was holding it. It was a nauseating feeling, but my rapt fascination wouldnât let me put it down. I had never noticed how intricate the contraption was. There were so many little details, so many little parts that needed to work harmoniously in order for it to carry out its function. I was only made more aware of just how many parts there were inside the gun because of my shaky hand unconsciously rattling the magazine inside.Â
The clip sounded nearly empty. Jesus, Spencer, how many times have you had to use this thing?
My thoughts were cut short when the sound at the door returned. It didnât sound like knocking, but something much worse.Â
Someone was coming in.Â
I wasnât yet prepared for the worst so rather than confronting it outside, I stayed hidden within Spencerâs room ready to shoot when they finally came into my line of sight.Â
If you were an intruder, I donât think youâd be very intimidated at the sight of me, but for some reason, I still felt rather powerful. My hair was like strings draping over my shoulders since it was still damp, and the one hand I was using to hold the gun (the other being used as a towel holder) was shaking violently. I could barely carry this thing with one hand, and yet I still couldnât put it down.Â
I needed protection.Â
I needed Spencer.Â
I could hear footsteps slowly trailing in, and it seemed like the slower they walked, the faster my heart beat.Â
âWhoâs there?â My voice was loud, but it wasnât nearly as threatening as it shouldâve been to scare somebody. The dominance in my tone was clearly stolen by my fear.Â
I saw a figure loom into the space between Spencerâs bedroom door frame and the living room, which was adequate distance for shooting, so with only partial hesitation, I nearly pulled the trigger.
âShit!â The figure ducked their head while their hands raised into the air to suggest harmlessness - something a suspect would do to surrender.Â
â(Y/n), put down the gun! Put down the gun! Itâs me! Itâs Spencer!âÂ
I could recognize his voice, but the stormâs darkness hid his face from me so I was still skeptical. It wasnât until he swiftly came into the light to take the gun out of my hands that the small flicker of city lights illuminated his face.Â
Spencer!
As soon as I could make out his perfect nose and his amber eyes, I melted into his already open embrace. I entered his arms wordlessly and shut my eyes so solidly with such relief that a tear escaped.Â
âHey, hey ⊠youâre okay. Iâm here. Youâre okay, my dear.â He took my face in his hands to read me, and I think he mustâve seen my tears because his voice never travelled above a whisper. Maybe he thought if he spoke even a decibel louder, Iâd shatter. He let my head travel back to his sternum, the warmest spot on his body, and again, he embraced me in a hug. His hands hovered in the air for a moment while he tried to find an appropriate place to put them - like I said before, heâd never seen me in just a towel, but he didnât mention it. Instead, he threw his good manners out the window and hugged me just as tightly as he wouldâve had there been more covering me than just terry cloth.Â
âThereâs nothing to be afraid of, Iâm right here.â
He held me for longer than normal, but he knew the circumstances were different here. Maybe thatâs why he kept a single arm around me even when he travelled to his dresser where he collected an old t-shirt that he would go on to slide over me. I let the towel drop when the t-shirt was fully on, creating a sort of magic trick, where he never saw my naked body. But that wasnât exactly true.Â
I didnât need to be without clothes to be naked. I was naked right now, even in his shirt - completely and totally vulnerable. He could see the plain fear that held me prisoner tonight, and so he made me an offer I couldnât refuse.Â
âDo you wanna sleep in my room tonight?âÂ
I nodded into his chest without a spoken word. He knew I would still be scared, and in some way, I think his doting treatment was how he believed he could make it up to me. He even helped me into his sheets, taking the time to tuck me in like a child. I realized later though, he mightâve only tucked me in so the movement of the bedsheets would mask the sound of him carefully sliding his gun back into its rightful spot in his drawer.Â
âWhere were you?â I finally croaked, neglecting to add, âI needed you.â It wouldâve been redundant. He knew I needed him.
âThe storm knocked over a telephone pole just a mile away. I was almost home when it happened.âÂ
Somehow hearing that he was so close only made me more frustrated. Here I was, thinking I was on the verge of death when Spencer was literally just a few blocks down the street.Â
âYou scared me when you didnât answer my calls.âÂ
âI know, Iâm sorry. I didnât see them until I was at the front door. I was too busy focusing on getting home to you as soon as possible while still driving safely through the storm.âÂ
With my eyes already shut, I could imagine him, his hands at ten and two on the wheel, his eyes straightward with nothing else in sight but the road ahead of him, his motivation to get home to the person who needed him most being what propelled that car forward - not even the gas.Â
âI love you, you know that?â He whispered into my hair, where his fingers were already laced.Â
âI know. And I love you, too.â I honestly replied. Thatâs why I need you here with me. Itâs the only way I feel safe.Â
I wouldâve gone to sleep right then and there, but I was stuck on the fact that he was just a mile away this entire time. Maybe that was the point, though.Â
He was never too far away. He was always right there, in one way or another.Â
âIn the morning, I have to leave at 7, so Iâll drop you off at the library.â Whatâd I tell you? He always made arrangements for me so Iâd never ever be left alone. âSo in the car ride there, you can tell me why you were about to shoot me.âÂ
After his statement was the first time I laughed that night. I nudged him to show my playful disapproval of his jest.Â
âI thought you were an intruder!â My voice finally regained its volume. âYou scared the shit out of me when you walked in.âÂ
Our laughter faded to silence and it seemed like that would conclude the nightâs conversations, but I could still hear the gears in Spencerâs brain turning.Â
âHey, wait a minute - how did you even know I had a spare gun in my drawer?âÂ
To his question, I pretended to be asleep so I wouldnât have to answer, exaggerating my snores to emphasize my blatant sarcasm.Â
âAnswer me!â He persisted; I could hear him smiling.
But I only smirked against his chest and coquettishly cooed, âGoodnight, Spencer.â
â§ïœ„ïŸ: *â§ïœ„ïŸ:* ă
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#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid one shot#home alone
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In the Steel Steeds Heart
Chapter 15: The Hunt
Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, alcohol, mild domestic abuse, blood/gore, violence, body horror, death, weapons/guns
Summary: The Hunt is coming. Heisenberg turns to other vices to try to calm his nerves, causing more harm than good. While Juniper hears an ancient, primal song rise with the moon.
Feedback appreciated. 18+
This will be a heavy one folks
Two days till the huntâŠ
Heisenberg rose early, as he always did, pausing to look over Juniperâs form in the bed beside him. She was cuddled into the pillows on her belly, the blankets bungled up around the swell of her hip. Her pale skin almost glowing in the dewy morning light.
His pale eyes scanned over the dark blotches and bite marks that littered her skin: varying shades of purples painted across her in all the declarations of his claim. She never complained about the marks, or even the scar his teeth left in her collarbone.
But in comparison to the grizzly scar that decorated the upper half of her spine they probably paled in comparison. His focus fell on it. It was forever angry and hot, it seemed to shift a bit when her emotions got the better of her. He would sometimes catch her feeling itâs uppermost edge, green eyes downcast.
He gave a ragged sigh, all the worry and fear shifting around like bees in his belly. Miranda was planning something, and it involved Juniper. He couldnât help the nagging thought that it was his fault, that his fondness of her made her into a target.
Frowning, he pulled the blankets up over her more completely. A shadow of a smile ghosted her lips as the warmth enveloped her.
~
Juniper woke, stretching out her sore muscles. She felt light, the day before seemingly going much better then sheâd expected.
She went about the beginning of her day like normal, doing light cleaning and making the bed. It was when she reached the kitchen that things seemed off.
In the corner of the kitchen counter, where the bottles of liquor usually sat, was a glaringly empty space. Tapping her boot for a second Juniper looked around to truly find it missing. Worry worked its way into her now. She quickly finished up, dressing in workshop appropriate garb before heading for the elevator.
As soon as the elevator had descended one level the heavy throngs of the radio could be heard. It hissed and blared around the metal walls, almost drowning out the loud crashes father bellow. Juniperâs heart sankâŠthese all the telltale signs of a more foul one of Heisenbergâs moods.
~
Heisenberg knocked back the bottle, the room humming and swirling with bits of metal.
Taking a ragged breath once the bottle left his lips he looked at the dented wall before him. Raising his free hand a metal pipe started itâs onslaught once more. The loud clatter of metal being thrown against metal entered the choir of chaos.
The radio and Sturm losing his goddamn mind below him adding to it. All the noise was almost enough to drown out his thoughts, the affront of his senses almost calming.
Suddenly the music stopped. Heisenberg spun around, finally hearing Strum in all his glory. The creature reved angrily beneath the floor.
Heisenberg stomped on the grate swearing, âShut the fuck up!â
âHe gets it from you,â came a cool voice.
Heisenberg straightened, seeing Juniper standing in the doorway. The swirling metal all fell, causing every piece to clatter loudly.
âWhatâs going on Karl?â Juniper asked, arms folded.
He looked a mess: face flushed, a slight sway in every movement, every muscle tight, and bleeding from several minor cuts.
Heisenberg gave her a feral smile, setting the bottle down. Juniper cocked her eyebrow at him.
âLiked all the fancy shit?â He pointed at her, âHad so much fun prancing around the castle, hm?â
âDoes that matter?â She asked almost dumbfounded, âI thought dinner went pretty well.â
He frowned, looking down, his hat sent a dark shadow over most of his face. âThink it went pretty fucking well?â He turned away, leaning heavily back onto the table.
âWhatâs gotten you so worked up?â She asked, stepping closer.
âThink I canât measure up to the supersized bitch!?â His muscles were tight, âI canât give you all the nice shit she can! I canât give you what you need!â
âKarl!â Juniper shouted.
âShut up!â He rounded on her, eyes wild, âYou would have been better staying there. You would have been safe!â
âSafe?!â Anger rose in her tone, âWith her daughterâs drinking from me like a tap?!â
He took large steps toward her, the smell of alcohol hitting her like a wall. âYou would have been safe. Safer then here with me.â
âWhy are you saying this?â Juniperâs brows knotted together.
Heisenbergâs lips became a violent smile as he moved almost nervously, âDonât you get it?â
When she didnât respond he whipped around and threw a piece of scrap into the nearest wall.
âSheâs going to use you!â His voice got quieter, âMaybe to punish meâŠI donât fucking know.â
âDimitrescu??â Juniper asked, deep confusion in her tone.
Giving a tight little chuckle he answered, âNo.â
âMiranda?â She tried again.
As soon as the name left her lips Heisenberg rounded on her. His hand went to her throat, just tight enough to hold her and be a firm warning.
Her green eyes shifted from fear and shock as she tightened under his grasp.
His face came dangerously close to hers, âDonât say her name. I donât want to hear it.â
She tried to nod but he tightened his grip. She gasped, hands finding his wrists.
His pale eyes shifted over her face, emotions rippling through them.
âYouâre fucked because of me.â His jaw went a bit slack. He saw confusion mix with the fear in her eyes, lips parting.
âIâŠ.I-I love..y-you.â She whimpered out in gasps. She saw his face shift before his hand tightened.
Black spots appeared in her vision as she clawed at his wrist.
âWhy do you have to care so damn much?â He bared his teeth, âWhy do you have to be so fucking important to me.â His voice almost sounded hurt.
His mind finally cleared of the red mist when he felt her grip on his wrist start to go slack. He quickly released her.
Juniper crumpled to the ground, grabbing her throat and sucking in needed air.
Heisenberg turned away, shame burning in him.
Juniperâs eyes pricked with tears as she looked up at him.
He put distance between them.
Heisenberg fell into a chair, rubbing his face into his hands.
ââŠIâm sorry.â He choked.
Silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Juniper rubbed her sore throat, shrinking a bit.
Looking up at the wall he started to speak again, âShe wants you to join the huntâŠwants to test you.â
Before she could asked he heavily sighed, âI donât fucking know whyâŠâ
Juniperâs eyes narrowed, âSo throwing a fit and choking me is going to help?!â She spat from the floor.
He didnât answer. Huffing she stood, brushing grim from her skirt.
Walking towards the door, wanting distance she turned back to speak, âKarlâŠIâm not going to be completely safe as long as Iâm in the villageâŠno one is.â Her voice was tight, âAnd you need to stop blaming yourself for Mirandaâs mistakesâŠyour anger makes enough of your own.â
She left him alone with his thoughts once more.
~
It was late into the night before he entered the apartment. Darkness greeted him, he could just make out Juniperâs shape in the bed.
No food was left out for him and she hadnât waited up at all. He didnât blame her, their earlier interaction still leaving her understandingly raw.
She heard him enter, and the sound of his belts and charms being placed onto the table, his clothes to soon follow. The bed groaned as it accepted his weight. He moved softly and slowly in an attempt to not wake her. She felt him freeze when his eyes met with the reflective glow of her own.
ââŠButtercup?â
âDonât start.â
âI-IâmâŠsorry.â
She shifted, rolling onto her other side. He snaked under the blankets, moving up to press against her. She was rigid.
He nuzzled into her neck apologetically.
âI know youâre madâŠbut-â he started, her voice cutting him off.
âOh because you tried to choke me out for just trying to talk to you?â She hissed, âIâm so sorry my Lord.â She put emphasis on the word âLordâ.
He winced at her words.
âI didnât mean it.â He tried to soothe. He softly wrapped a hand around her, finding her arms tightly crossed over her chest.
âIâll just let you cut yourself up with scrap and wreak the whole factory next time.â She snorted, âLesson learned.â
He wilted, burying his face into her. He knew he fucked up badly, but didnât know how to fix it.
He pulled her closer, wrapping both arms around her. âIâm sorry.â He whispered again into her skin. She relaxed a bit, softening in his arms.
His cockiness got the better of him, a hand sliding down her stomach.
âLet me make it up to you?â He ventured, hand drifting lower.
âNot on your life.â Juniper hissed, grabbing his hand and pulling it back.
He smiled a bit, âThatâs fair.â
âMmm.â She hummed tightly.
~
One day till the huntâŠ
Heisenberg woke up early, as he always did. But the need to rise and get to work didnât itch at him. The want to sooth the sting of the previous day at the forefront of his mind.
Juniper slept soundly, cuddling deeper into his side in her unconsciousness. Remorse clung deeply to his core. The shadow of bruising ghosted her neck. Grimacing, Heisenberg pulled her closer.
He stayed with her until she woke naturally, blinking up at him with sleep heavy eyes.
âNot in the shop today?â She yawned.
âNot today.â He murmured back.
Â
She made a sound, falling back against him. They laid in silence for a long moment, Heisenberg thinking sheâd fallen back asleep until she spoke again, âWant to talk about yesterday?â
He shifted.
Juniper looked up at him. Sheâd known he was dangerous from the beginning, probably the most dangerous thing in the whole area after Miranda. But their playfulness and affections dulled her apprehension of his volatile nature.
In truth he did very little in the way of hurting her. But the warning that he could, the power behind his hand, was enough to grant her pause.
He watched her eyes shifting over his face in thought. He brought a hand up to cup her face, heart sinking slightly as she flinched.
âIâŠI really am sorry aboutâŠabout all that.â He admitted, âThough that probably means fuck allâŠâ
Her lips were a thin line in thought. She couldnât bring herself to hate him, even though his actions would cause her to be more wary when certain moods arose.
They were all monsters hidden in human flesh.
She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. âTry to work on your angerâŠplease?â Her voice came softly.
He gave a tight nod.
Taking a deep breath she changed the subject, âSo the Hunt is tomorrow night?â
âMhmâ
âAnd Miranda wants me to go?â
ââŠyea.â
âSo what do you do?â
He rubbed his face for a moment, âGather the Lycans, get them all riled up and loud.â He swallowed, âIt gives the villagers a bit of forewarning, less casualties.â
âThey donât know when the Hunt is coming?â Juniper asked worriedly.
âThey know when itâs close.â He nodded, âThen when the moon is high I lead them to the edge and let emâ loose. Watch from a distance and call them back before sunrise.â
âSo itâs mostly waiting?â
âKind of.â
âAlright.â
He turned to look at her fully, âI want you to stay by my side, just wait it out ok?â
Juniper gave a nod, hearing the seriousness in his tone.
âTomorrow Iâll have to leave to make some preparations, but Iâll come back for you by dusk. By no mean you leave this fucking factory.â His jaw was tight.
âI wonât.â She affirmed, âShould I do anything?â
âGet plenty of rest and food in you.â He shrugged, âBut the cold will keep you awake.â
They spent the day together. Heisenberg made breakfast for them, Juniper insisting they eat on the couch.
They sat and ate, laughing about this and that. Juniper told Heisenberg about her most recent book sheâs found around the factory and was now reading.
He listened intently, never telling her heâd read every book within the factoryâs walls at least a dozen times himself. He was just content to see her happy, as he lazy ate his toast and sausage.
 His heart longed for more days like this, when they could just be two normal people.
The rest of the day went about the same. Heisenberg even set up the shoddy little television so they would watch some old films.
She knew that, in part, the day was his attempt to apologize; and even though she was very grateful for the time spent together without work, shadows of what happened could never be erased with any amount of apology.
She lay her head on his chest, the soft hum of an old black and white western played from the tv. Heisenbergâs fingers traced little circles over her arm and side, teetering between soothing and tickling.
She closed her eyes contently. She could hear him rustle around, pulling out a cigar and cutting the end. After a small click and the burning pops of it filled the air his hand returned to her, continuing its travels.
She began to drift, the sound of his heartbeat mixed the familiar scent of smoke enveloping her.
~
By the time Juniper awoke she was in the bed, covers tucked in around her. She heard the clinking of Heisenbergâs belts.
Blinking open her eyes she sat up groggily. Rubbing her eyes to clear her vision she saw Heisenberg dressing in all his usual attire.
âWhat are you doing?â She murmured, voice thick with sleep.
Heisenberg made a small sound of surprise, turning towards her, âDidnât mean to wake you Doll.â
He took heavy steps towards her, closing the distance between them, âI have to go get some shit together for tonight.â
Before she could ask he shook his head, âYou stay here and rest, itâll be a long, fucking night.â
He bent over and kissed her forehead, beard scratchy against her skin.
âStay safe.â She cooed, settling back into the warm blankets.
He made a rumble, happy to see her going back to sleep. As quietly as his stature could allow he picked up his hammer and was off.
~
Night of the HuntâŠ
He stood at the gates, the cold wind ripping his coat open. Lycans swarmed the forest and rocks, snapping and barking.
Heisenbergâs eyes scanned the countryside, the village was quiet, the smell of incense and goats blood rising in the wind. They knew a hunt was coming, trying to appease Mirandaâs wrath.
The stupid bastardsâŠ
Juniper looked flushed and jumpy beside him. He touched her shoulder, âYou alright?â
She looked up at him, green eyes dilated. She gave a tiny nod, shivering from more than the cold.
The moon covered the snowy land in an eerie silver light, the cold allowing sounds to slice through the night.
Heisenberg strode up to the gate, lifting his hammer.
âTime the rile them up, baby!â He shouted. Heisenberg began to bang the hammer off the fence, hard enough to cause a clattering sound but not enough to bend the metal of the bars.
The Lycans started to bark and howl, running up and down the fence line.
Heisenberg raised his head, bellowing out a howl into the night. The creatures joined in. Juniper felt the round rumble as Urias stomped into view.
âRoar for me!â Heisenberg hollered at the thirteen-foot Lycan. Urias looked at him almost curiously before raising his own hammer, mimicking Heisenberg. He bellowed out into the night, the sound deep and guttural.
Juniper stepped closer, her heart hammering in her chest. It wasnât fear, some other primal emotion pumped through her veins.
âHowl for them Baby!â Heisenberg lifted his hammer over his head. Juniper breathed out heavily, eyes widening. She threw her head back, cupping her hands around her mouth, and howled up at the moon.
Heisenberg opened the gate, marching through. Juniper kept close to his heels, breaths coming out in hot huffs.
The Lycans bunched around them, howling and snapping at each other. Urias stomped up beside them, peering down at Heisenberg with cloudy eyes.
Man and creature raised their hammers towards the moon.
âGo!â Heisenberg bellowed.
Urius barked out deeply to the mass, before jumping off into the darkness, much too agile for something of his size.
The Lycans began to move, rushing forward. The moonlight seemed to sing, the air cracking with energy. Juniper felt it all. The song of the night pulsing through her. Her muscles itched and ached, thoughts warped for a single need. She pulled away from Heisenberg, feet seeming to move on their own.
Heisenberg took a heavy step after her, opening his mouth to bark a warning. The words died in his throat. He felt golden claws snake around his neck like icicles.
His stomach clenched, muscles going rigid.
âLet her go.â Mother Miranda whispered in his ear, âLet see how she fares on the Hunt, sweet boy.â
Her voice was colder than the night, steely and sharp. Worry clutched his heart but Heisenberg could only give the shallowest of nods.
Miranda withdrew her hands, stepping to the side to look over the scene.
Heisenberg stood uncomfortably still beside her, his eyes desperately scanning the forest for Juniper. She was lost to his sightâŠ
~
Juniper ran between two varcolacs, she could feel the heat radiating off their sides. She was fast, faster then sheâd ever remembered.
She was keeping pace with the creatures. A feeling rose in her chest, the desire to be even faster, to dig her toes into the frozen earth.
She halted enough to kick off her boots, feeling hot she threw her coat away with them.
She sped to catch up with them afterwards. Her legs elongated as she fell on all fours. In the new form she could easily match them, their milky eyes fixated on her as her body shifted to one that resembled theirs.
Her multiple green eyes glinted as she huffed out. She wanted to run and bite, to kill.
She snapped at one of the varcolacs, it jumped back a bit, shrinking from her jaws. She was slightly bigger than them, her teeth like daggers.
Reaching the hilltop over the village they paused. Her eyes caught many more shapes of Lycans in the dark trees.
She raised head, jaws cracking open to release an eerie howl. The others joined in, filling the night with a choir of terror.
They descended like a mass of rats into the village, dark shapes filtering between the buildings.
She could smell the fear, seeping through the cracks in the walls. Her wet nose twitched, drool forming at the corners of her mouth as she sensed the villages hiding in their homes. They were like mice hiding away within their holes.
Her teeth begged to sink into flesh, her mind a cloudy mess save for the most primal of desires.
The pungent stench of blood met her, with the death cry of a man far off. She surged forward, large claws digging into the frozen earth as she followed the trail of distress.
Her senses were bombarded with the melody of chaos. The sounds of terror and death rose up above the chilling winds, the scent of blood and fear almost suffocating.
She panted out heavily, every nerve screaming for more: to run, to bite, to eat, to kill.
Juniper found the source of her previous query. Lycans were shuffled over the form of a man, limp and bleeding in the snow.
She made a warbling cry of warning, the smaller predators moving away. She descended on the body, her teeth ripping flesh and breaking bones. She tasted blood, like iron on her tongue.
A sound, almost unnoticeable, sliced through the night: A small metallic click.
She looked up, pearlescent teeth shimmering in the low light.
She stared down the barrel of a gun. A villager held up a pistol with a shaking hand, reeking of terror.
She curled her lips, blood dripping heavily from her jaws, a monstrous growl escaping them.
Her muscles bunched, self preservation vacant from her in this current state.
The coil snapped, she leapt forward. The ear splitting bang of the gun sounded the second her feet left the snow.
#resident evil village#karl heisenberg#heisenberg x oc#re8 oc#heisenberg#in the steel steeds heart#resident evil#heisenberg smut
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I Put a Spell on You | KNJ
âč Summary: Namjoon wanted to find the right time to tell you he was born a warlock, but when a witch casts a time-sensitive spell on you, he may have to confess to you sooner than he anticipated. âč Pairing: Warlock!Namjoon x Mortal Female!Reader âč Genre: Fluff, warlock au, supernatural au, established relationship âč Rating: PG15 âč Warnings: Just cursing âč Word Count: 4.5k âč A/N: Written for @bangtanshadowfamilyâs Creatures of Moonlight Manor đ€ Huge thank you to @spicykoreantatertotsâ for betaâing this for me and giving me her wonderful feedback đ„°Â
This GORGEOUS banner and matching divider was made by the super talented Vivi!! @eerieeditsâ / @chillingtaeâ seriously I am so in love with it thank you a million more times. Check out her edits!! đ
Namjoon had wanted to tell you, he really did. There was just never the right time. He agonized over it for the entirety of your relationship, and now, five years later with marriage on his mind, he has to admit to you that he was born a warlock.
He knew that you hated magic; you made that very clear on your first date. Your mutual best friend set you two up, who knew what Namjoon was and knew how you felt.
âI think you two could hit it off, but you may not have much of a chance with her,â he remembers Yoongi telling him. âShe hates magic and everything related to it.â
âBut youâre a literal vampire, and sheâs friends with you!â
âYeah, but Iâm not magical. Iâm different.â
Namjoon rolled his eyes and waved it off, but still didnât mention what he was to you when you first met. That turned out to have been for the best after he learned more about you.
Being born the only person in your family in a decade with no magical abilities made you develop a hatred for all things and people related to witchcraft. Your family did their best not to exclude you from magic related games at family reunions and get-togethers and would try not to talk too heavily about it when you were around, but you always stood out like a sore thumb. You have a self-proclaimed chip on your shoulders that seemed to lessen over the years heâs known you but was still there.
Now, youâre coming up on your fifth anniversary, and Namjoon has an engagement ring burning a hole in his sock drawer because heâs ready to propose to you, but he canât spend the rest of his life with you without telling you the truth. He loves you more than heâs ever loved anyone, but the idea of telling you heâs a warlock and having you leave him is terrifying.
Yoongi gets to hear all of his worries and woes anytime heâs over at the vampireâs apartment.
âDo you even know how youâre going to propose?â Yoongi asks as he scrolls through Netflix for the third time.
âYeah, thereâs a meteor shower on the night of our anniversary. Weâre going to pack some food and head to the river to watch it, and Iâm going to ask her then.â
Yoongi snorts. âOh yeah, I forgot that youâre both nerds.â He dodges the throw pillow that Namjoon hurls at him. âSo, just tell her when you propose.â
âWhy, so she can tell me to go to fuck off and reject me?â
âNamjoon, I highly doubt sheâll do that. Iâve known Y/n since high school, and youâre the only person that sheâs been with that sheâs ever been in love with. Like genuine love.â
âYeah, but you know her temper. Love or not, her anger knows no bounds.â Yoongi agrees, a memory of a time when he accidentally ate some of your leftover food coming to mind, and you made sure he suffered for a week straight after.
âWell, your anniversary is in like a week and a half, so you better figure it out. It may make her mad, but I truly think she loves you too much to leave you.â
Namjoon does his best to keep that in mind as the week goes on.
With your anniversary being on Sunday, you and Namjoon take Friday off of work so you can have a three day weekend together. Determined to pamper you before he tells you the truth, he takes you to one of your favorite restaurants for brunch to start the day.
As heâs holding the door open for you, a slender, dark-haired woman breezes past you and waltzes into the cafe, succeeding in cutting you both off and getting in line before you. The expression on your face already tells Namjoon how this interaction will go.
âYou know whatâs rude,â you say once youâre both in line behind the woman. Youâre speaking loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough to cause a scene. âSeeing someone whoâs clearly holding a door open for the person theyâre with and just inserting yourself in the way.â
âY/nâŠâ Namjoon starts. Normally he loves your fiery, no-nonsense attitude, but heâs always telling you thereâs a time and place for everything. His gut is telling him this is not one of the times.
âIâm just saying. To cut someone off whoâs about to go into a building is just a really dick move.â
The woman in front of you whips her head around, her sharp eyes are staring you down, but of course, you are unwavering. Sheâs wearing dress pants and an expensive-looking blouse. She has a name tag on a lanyard around her neck that reads âSeulgi.â
âIs there a problem?â Annoyance clear in her tone.
âYeah, there is. My boyfriend was holding the door open for me, and you just rudely cut us off to come inside.â The woman eyes you up and down.
âOh well. Iâm sure you can survive without your waffles for a little longer,â she shrugs and turns away from the two of you. Namjoon watches your jaw clench.
âWow, what a bitch,â you mumble, knowing fully well she can hear you. Seulgi turns again, scowling at you.
âWatch who youâre talking to, girl. I could snap my fingers right now, and your mouth would disappear.â
You let out a sharp laugh and glance towards Namjoon. âOh, great! This bitch is a witch!â You turn back to the witch, hands on your hips. âYou magic losers think you can get away with whatever you want to just because you can wave your stupid fingers and make shit happen. Iâm not afraid of you just because you were born different.â
The witchâs eyes dart from you to Namjoon. Her gaze lingers on him longer than normal and what looks like realization shows on her face. She lets out a chuckle. âSo you hate witches and magical people, huh? Thatâs unfortunate because youâre going to need to find someone to cure you.â
âWhat the fuck are y-â Seulgi brings her hands up and waves her index and middle finger in one swift side-to-side motion before Namjoon can even intervene. You stumble backward, and Namjoon catches you before you hit the ground. Youâre coughing, sounding winded even though you had been standing still. âWhat did you do to me?â You manage to rasp out between coughs.
Seulgi shrugs. âYou seem like you talk a lot. Maybe a little too much. Letâs just say I gave you laryngitis, except itâll be permanent unless you know someone who can break the spell. You have until midnight in two days' time.â The witch looks directly at Namjoon as she says this, smiling the entire time. Â âGood luck!â She calls out as she steps over you and prances out the door.
On the list of ways Namjoon wanted to tell you he was a warlock, this was not on it whatsoever.
Less than an hour later, you and Namjoon are standing in front of Yoongiâs building, your fist pounding on the wood. The bleary-eyed vampire answers the door, clearly having been woken up from one of his mid-day naps. You wordlessly step into the apartment and plop onto the couch.
âSure, hi Y/n, yes, please come in,â Yoongi mumbles under his breath and invites Namjoon inside. âTo what do I owe this wonderful pleasure today?â You ignore the sarcasm in his sentence.
âIâm cursed!â
âCursed?â
âYes! We were getting brunch, and some asshole witch cut in front of us. I called her out, and the bitch cursed me! She said I need to find someone who knows magic to lift the spell or whatever in two days by midnight or Iâll never be able to speak again.â You manage to get this out in between coughs.
Namjoon ignores the pointed look that Yoongi gives him.
âSo, you want me to ask one of my magic friends to break the spell?â
âObviously. Youâre the only supernatural person in town that I know well enough to ask. Iâd ask my family, but thereâs no way I can scrounge up enough money in two days to fly home.â
Yoongi stares at Namjoon, making the younger man uncomfortable, but doesnât say anything.
âFine. Iâll call someone I know, and you can meet up with him. Namjoon, come with me and get your girlfriend some water.â
Yoongi turns on the tap, and as soon as Namjoon enters the room, he sighs quite tiredly. âAre you seriously going to make me find someone else to do this?â
âThis isnât how I wanted to tell her! I wanted to do it on my own time and in a nicer situation than this.â
âYeah, well, fate works in mysterious ways, huh?â Yoongi grabs a glass and fills it with ice. âYou know how to break the spell, donât you?â
âI mean, yeah. I may not have known the words the witch said, but it seems like a pretty simple silencing spell.â
âSo, I will ask you again. Are you going to make me find someone to help your girlfriend, or are you going to go in there and help her yourself?â He hands Namjoon the glass of water and waits for his response.
âI just need a little more time-â Yoongi lifts his hand to stop him.
âThatâs all I need from you. I already know who to call.â
His words worry Namjoon.
The next day, you and Namjoon arrive at the door of the person Yoongi asked to help you. Namjoon had known the tone that Yoongi took with him was concerning, and he was right.
âCome in, come in!â Seokjin waves his arm, letting you and Namjoon into his apartment. The older warlock winks at you, and Namjoon bristles.
Even after knowing Seokjin as long as heâs known you, Namjoon still doesnât like him very much. According to Yoongi, Seokjin has been trying to get with you since your junior year of college, and it almost worked twice, but things fell through thanks to your refusal to date a magical person. Namjoon can admit that heâs the jealous type. The thought of another man wooing you makes his blood boil. Seokjinâs flirty enough that not even the object of his affectionâs significant other being in the room will deter him. Heâs shameless, and every time theyâre in the same place, Namjoon comes closer and closer to turning him into a reptile.
âY/n, youâre looking as beautiful as ever,â he practically purrs at you. âNamjoon, youâre lookingâŠas you usually do.â Seokjin has never been rude per se, but nearly everything he says to Namjoon is passive-aggressive, which drives the younger warlock mad.
âYeah, you too.â
âAnyway,â you interject with a cough. âI assume Yoongi told you why Iâm here.â
âHe did. I canât believe you pissed off a witch so bad that sheâs taking your voice away. Iâve always told you that one day your mouth would get you in trouble.â Seokjinâs eyes flick down to your lips, and Namjoon has to hold himself back from leaping across the room at him.
âI donât wanna hear it, Kim. Can you break the spell or not?â
âOf course, I can. How many times have I told you that Iâm the greatest warlock of the 21st century.â He shoots Namjoon a look. Seokjin had found out that Namjoon was a warlock a few years ago and always seemed like he was silently holding it over his head.
Seokjin motions for you and Namjoon to follow him into his second bedroom that he has made into his magic room. He walks past his bubbling cauldron to one of his bookshelves. He slides his fingers across a few of the spines before pulling out a book and rifling through its pages.
âAh-ha! The spell she put on you is pretty amateur. She's either a new witch or a supremely lazy one. I mean, this is a spell that a baby witch could cast and-â
âSeokjin!â you wheeze. âI donât care if this is a spell that only Merlin himself could cast. I just need you to fix me!â
âAlright, alright. I need to gather a few ingredients for a potion first. If the two of you would please go wait in the living room, Iâll be with you shortly.â
You and Namjoon do as he asks and go to wait on his couch. You play on your phone as Namjoon has his umpteenth tortured inner monologue. Your anniversary was tomorrow and he was still nowhere close to telling you about himself. To be fair, you did know that Seokjin was a warlock and you didnât completely hate him. You just didnât like to hang out with him unless you had to, and usually, the two of you spent most of your time together arguing.
Maybe Yoongi was right, and he was just overthinking this. The time that the two of you have spent together has been the best moments of his life, and he was sure you felt the same. But if that was true, why did he feel so uncertain? Why was the thought of telling you he has been keeping this massive secret from you for five years scaring him so much?
âSo, good news and bad news,â Seokjin announces, coming into the room. âThe good news is, I can break this nasty spell.â
âAnd the bad news?â You ask.
âWell, Iâm afraid I wonât be able to do it until tomorrow.â
âTomorrow?! Iâm supposed to lose my voice for the rest of my life tomorrow!â You yell at him which sends you into a coughing fit. Namjoon rubs your back and meets Seokjinâs gaze. He hates the smug look the older warlock gives him.
âYouâre not to lose your voice until midnight. Iâll do what I need to do before then. Your lovely boyfriend and I can organize where weâll meet up.â
Namjoon is confused. âWeâre not coming here?â
âNo, this needs to be done elsewhere. Iâll text you a little later once I finish getting the things together that I need.â
Heâs hesitant, but Namjoon agrees, and he and you head home. A week ago, he was looking forward to his anniversary, but now heâs dreading it and just wants the day to be over already.
âThis is all my fault,â Namjoon blurts out in the car. The two of you are on your way to meet Seokjin at the location he insisted upon, a part of town that was almost atop a hill. According to the eldest, you needed to be outside and away from âprying eyes.â It sounded like a lie, but Seokjin was older, so Namjoon thought he might know a different way to break the spell.
âWhat do you mean?â You glance from the road to him briefly, then back in front of you again.
âWeâre spending our anniversary with you under a spell, we have no starlight picnic packed, and I have to look at Kim Seokjinâs face.â
âJoonie, this isnât your fault. You didnât do this to me. I suppose I do have a big mouth sometimes.â You shrug and find his hand on the center console to hold. âThis can still be an anniversary date, though. Once Seokjin does what he needs to do, we can send him home and enjoy the meteor shower together. Plus, when you were showering, I snuck the picnic basket in the car. We can still salvage the night.â You parked the car and sent him a smile that had his heart beating so loud he swore it echoed throughout the cabin of the vehicle.
He leans over and kisses you for the first time today, his heart pounding impossibly faster. He decides then and there that heâs going to propose to you tonight no matter what. If it means hiding his magic from you until youâre old and gray, then he will.
Hand in hand, you and Namjoon head up the path closest to you until you see Seokjin in the clearing. Heâs crouching on the ground in front of a leather satchel and reading through a book. When he sees you and Namjoon approaching, he puts the book away and pulls out a mason jar filled halfway with a glowing purple liquid.
âGood evening, my darling.â Seokjin smiles broadly at you when he sees you. âI hope your day was marvelous.â
âItâs my anniversary, and I spent all day stressing and hacking my lungs up, and now, instead of having a romantic evening, Iâm here about to be exorcised. Does anything about that sound marvelous?â You got through the sentence, only coughing three times.
âMy sweet Y/n, youâre so dramatic. Letâs get on with it then, come on.â Seokjin waves both you and Namjoon over, presenting the bottle of liquid to you. âSo, the removal of the spell itself is pretty easy. Step one is to drink the potion, and then we wait two minutes. Iâll set a timer and-â Before he finishes his sentence, you toss your head back and gulp down the purple liquid in record time. Seokjin fumbles with his phone to set his timer as soon as the last drop is in your mouth.
âThis tastes kind of like grape juice,â you comment, handing him the empty bottle.
âPatience, woman! What if the next step required traveling somewhere far away?!â
âWell, does it?â
âNoâŠâ
âGreat, so what do we do next?â
Seokjin sighs and glances at his phone timer. âOnce the timer is up, Well, your boyfriend isnât going to like this, but I have to kiss you.â
âWhat?!â You and Namjoon exclaim in unison, your voices bouncing off the surrounding trees.
âWhy the hell do you have to kiss her?â Namjoon feels his fists clenching, and his face hurts from how hard heâs scowling.
âItâs the way to break the spell. After she drinks the potion, which does most of the work, she then has to kiss a witch or warlock for it to take effect.â
âUgh, I feel like this is your way of finally kissing me,â you groan. âFine, whatever, as long as I get to keep my voice.â
âY/n, no.â Namjoonâs sweating in the middle of the crisp fall air at the thought. This had to be some sort of joke, right? He racks his brain to remember what he learned about this spell in high school. He remembers that he has to say a generic counterspell to break it, but he doesnât recall any glowing purple potion and a kiss.
âJoonie, itâs just a kiss. I donât like it either, but unless you find my voice that annoying, weâre out of options here.â
âTen seconds,â Seokjin reads. Namjoon watches the older warlock lick his lips and send him a wink. While he was typically a pacifist in a situation of confrontation, the overwhelming urge to punch Seokjin with all of the strength he can muster is strong.
He watches you let out a sigh and step closer to Seokjin, tilting your head up towards him.
âTimes up,â Seokjin says.
Before heâs able to lean down, Namjoon is behind you, pulling you towards him and smashing his lips into yours. He feels you relax in his arms only for a second before youâre pushing him away.
âNamjoon, you ruined it! Seokjin specifically said someone whoâs magical needs to be the one to kiss me!â
âI am someone magical! Iâm a warlock!â
Silence fills the air. Namjoonâs breathing hard, his heart feeling as though itâs going to beat out of his chest. Youâre staring at him, and he can see your brain trying to make sense of what he just said.
âYouâre a warlock?â You finally ask, your brows scrunching.
âFuck, Y/n, this isnât how I wanted to tell you.â Namjoonâs legs feel like jelly, so he lowers himself to the grass and sits. âI wanted to find a time where it was just the two of us, and we werenât fighting a clock. I wanted to be able to tell you and not feel so scared, but I just, the idea of him putting his mouth on you and being the one to break this damned spell, made me so mad.â
âIâŠI donât know what to say.â You donât look as angry as he thought you would. You look confused more than anything. âWe went through all of this when you couldâve helped me this whole time?â
Guilt that he felt about not telling you combined with the fact that yes, all of this couldâve been taken care of literally the same day you met the witch that started this all. âY/n, I know you probably hate me right now, and you probably want nothing to do with me ever again, but please just know I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone Iâve ever been with. Youâre my soulmate and the love of my life. The idea of telling you that Iâm magical, knowing how you feel about magic, scared me shitless.
âThe idea of losing you was too much to bear. I wanted to propose to you tonight before all of this happened, but all I could replay in my mind was you throwing the ring at me and storming off after I told you the truth. Iâm sorry I ruined our anniversary.â Namjoon stays sitting on the wet grass, not caring that it was soaking through his jeans. He canât will himself to look up at you, fearing the rejection he feels coming.
He catches sight of your sneakers walking over and stopping in front of him before youâre crouching down and cupping his face. The sound of you sniffling has his eyes snapping up to meet your red-rimmed ones. âJoon, I love you so much. The fact that you would even think that Iâd leave you after all the time weâve been together and everything weâve been through is stupid. Yeah, Iâve never much-liked magic, but you should know that I love you more than life itself.â You smile at him, and he feels his breath catch in his throat. You still love him.
âRight now, more than anything, Iâm just pissed that we went on this entire adventure when you couldâve just saved us the trouble and broke the spell days ago. But I love you more than I dislike magic. And if that offer still stands, Iâd love to be engaged to you. If you want.â
Namjoon grabs you then, wrapping you in his long arms and pulling you close to his chest. The two of you topple onto the soft grass, the smell of soil mixing with the familiar scent of you. He fishes the small, black velvet box out of his jacket pocket and slips the simple silver band with an amethyst stone onto your ring finger, kissing your hand once it was snug in place.
âI canât tell you how relieved I am right now. I love you so much,â he whispers, kissing your forehead.
âI really do hate to interrupt,â Seokjin cuts in from the same spot heâs stood in since Namjoon pulled you from him. âBut, you still need to break the spell.â
âWhat do you mean? Didnât I do that already?â
âWell, not really. The kiss isnât the thing that was supposed to break it. Thereâs a counterspell you need to recite.â
âBut, Iâve stopped coughing,â you point out.
âThatâs because the potion you drank stopped it. I figured Iâd give you something to lessen the soreness in your throat, maybe, but you still have like three hours left before your voice is gone for good.â Seokjin forces a smile that neither you nor Namjoon return.
âSo what the hell was all that kiss nonsense for?â Namjoon huffs out, standing up and advancing towards Seokjin.
âIt was to get you to tell her you were a warlock! Yoongi said if I made up the whole kiss thing, itâd get you mad enough to admit it, and I mean it worked, didnât it?â
Yoongi. He set this whole thing up to get Namjoon to tell you the truth. âYou mean to tell me that Yoongi got a witch to curse Y/n, just to get you involved to make me jealous so that Iâd confess?â
âHe only organized the latter part of all this. This whole spell thing was all because of Y/nâs smart mouth.â Namjoon sees you flip off Seokjin in his peripheral.
âJoon, we can go curse out Yoongi later, but can you please break this spell? Iâm seriously stressing over here.â
Namjoon makes a mental note to pay Yoongi a not so friendly visit later and makes his way back over to you. He has you close your eyes while he recalls the right counterspell to make everything go back to normal. He murmurs under his breath, hovering his hand over your throat, and his fingers tingle as the words leave his mouth. As quickly as he begins, heâs done and lowering his hand.
You open your eyes and clear your throat a few times. âHow do I know if it worked?â
âIt worked.â
âYeah, but how will I know?â
âIf you wake up tomorrow morning and speak, then youâll know it worked.â You frown at him and glance up at the sky.
âWe seriously need to talk about all the things you can do later, but for now, I really just want to watch the meteor shower and actually finish whatâs supposed to be a romantic anniversary date.â
âWe can do that.â
From there, you head to the car to get the dinner you packed, and Namjoon tells Seokjin he can leave. He asks the older warlock to let Yoongi know to expect a visit from him tomorrow that wonât just be to hang out.
Once Seokjinâs gone, and youâve spread out the spare blanket you keep in your car, Namjoon relaxes as you lean against him, feeding him parts of the sandwiches you made. While this may not have been the ideal way he planned for anything that transpired to happen, all that matters is that you still love him, and he gets to watch the way the meteors flying above glisten off of the ring on your finger.
The next morning, youâre able to confirm that Namjoon was, in fact, able to break the spell that the witch had cast onto you. You still have your voice, and youâre able to give Yoongi an earful about not telling you his best friend was a warlock when he first introduced you while simultaneously thanking him for introducing the two of you. The vampire tiredly took the verbal assault after you and Namjoon had barged into his apartment early in the morning.
As Namjoon watches you threaten to shove a clove of garlic up Yoongiâs ass if he ever lies to you again, he knows that asking you to become his wife is the best decision heâs ever made in his life.
2nd A/N:Â Fun fact, this started out as a different fic that I wrote the beginning and end of, but then my brain couldnât function for the middle so I wrote it all over again. The original version of this will probably still be finished in the future, who knows when. Also, as a disclaimer, I am in love with Seulgi. The idea of her as a sassy witch? Chefâs kiss!!! Anyway, hope everyone enjoyed it!
#creaturesofmm#btsnoonanet#hyunglinenetwork#heartsforbts#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#bangtanarmynet#bangtanhq#bangtanuniversity#btsbookclub#btswriterscollective#houseofddaeng#magicshopnet#thebtsficarchive#thebtswritersclub#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x reader#namjoon fluff#kim namjoon fluff#namjoon warlock au#namjoon fic#kim namjoon fanfic
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warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, sub!jisung, dom!femreader, pegging, denied orgasm, unsafe sex, degradingÂ
word count: +2.4kÂ
this was inspired by a twitter post saying that jisung is the type of boyfriend that would say âyou wanna kiss me so badâ during an argument :))
âI donât understand why itâs so fucking difficult for you to just put a stupid shirt on when I have my friends over, Jisung,â you exclaim, exasperated at your boyfriends stubbornness and the fact that you have to even ask this of him. Youâd think not walking around half naked in front of guests would be an obvious courtesy but Jisung had to emerge from your shared room with his tits out and even now brushes off your requests.Â
âIâm chill with your friends,â is all he offers, shrugging to walk away from you to the bedroom but his flippant attitude and unwillingness to hear you has you snapping at him. âListen, I donât fucking care how close you are with them, put some fucking clothes on when we have people over!âÂ
He pauses, looking back at you with an infuriating knowing smirk, âSo this is what this is about.âÂ
âThe fuck do you mean, this is the only thing Iâve been talking to you about!âÂ
Smiling, he strolls back over to you before bending down to look you in the eye patronizingly.Â
 Oh, this little brat.Â
âYou wanna fuck me so bad.âÂ
Your stuttering cough has Jisung smirking, cocky and content with his guess but you protest, âIâm asking you to put some clothes on, idiot!âÂ
âNo, no,â Jisung shakes his head, his fluffy black hair caressing his face, âyou got all worked up seeing me a little bit naked and you wanna blame it on me.âÂ
âKnow your fucking place, baby boy.â Jisung is normally a brat, but youâre hoping your dark tone will shut him up. Contrary to these hopes but aligning with past history, Jisung just cocks an eyebrow at you, heightening the burning in your stomach from anger to something deeper.Â
How much you want to put this little brat in his place. Instead, a harsh, condescending laugh tears through your throat. Jisungâs confident smirk falters for a millisecond. âNo, baby boy youâre projecting. You just want me to fuck you in that pretty ass of yours again.â Jisungâs adam apple bobs harshly despite his relatively unfazed face as he shakes his head harshly. âAww,â you coo, âis my little Bambi too shocked to use his words?âÂ
At the use of his favorite nickname you have for him, red flushes Jisungâs cheeks and ears. âNoâ,â he denies fruitlessly but youâve already made your mind.Â
âFine, if my horny little slut really canât go a few hours without blatantly acting out, I guess I have no other choice. Go get in bed. Put on that new outfit we bought.â Jisung protests, pouting in an attempt to hide his stupid smile as he drags his feet.Â
Jisung kneels on the bed, his tan thighs providing a beautiful contrast of the white of the sheets and the baby blue of the skirt you bought for him. You can already see the outline of his dick pressing up against the folds of the skirt. His eyes are glassy and his chest already rises quickly. âGood boy, now get my box and you can finally get what you want.âÂ
A frown is etched on Jisungâs face, his pretty pink lips curling into a pout, âNo, I donât want it. I wanna be in you.âÂ
Your hand squeezes Jisungâs chin firmly and you try to not melt at how his cheeks squish in your grip. âYouâve already tested me enough today, Bambi. Better get the box now.âÂ
Jisungâs round dark eyes hold yours for a split second longer than usual and your chest flares at his indignant attitude. âI got in the skirt and Iâm sitting here all pretty; why do you want the box?â He whines, playing with the skirtâs hem.Â
Sighing, you drop Jisungâs chin, walking to the closet yourself and ignoring Jisungâs sudden backpedaling, his claims that heâll get the box himself but your cold voice stops him half way to the closet. âGet back on the fucking bed, face in the pillows, you fucking brat.â Retrieving the familiar black box and turning around your met with Jisungâs shivering figure bent over into the bed. Tracing a finger up his smooth thighs, you remind, âRemember to use the safe word when you need it, Jisung.âÂ
He nods into the pillows. Faster than he could nod again, your hand is on his ass, smacking him for not using his words. A pretty little whimper and then a soft, âYes, I understand, maâam.â Content, you return to his thighs, stroking slowly up and teasing around his painfully erect cock and ass. You fasten a cock ring on him, ignoring Jisungâs soft whimpers of protest. â
As pretty as this skirt is, I donât think you deserve it right now, Bambi. I was really excited to fuck you in it but youâre just not letting that happen.â Jisung can only shiver as you slowly unzip the skirt and carefully hang it up, making sure to take your time smoothing out the creases from the hanger.Â
Jisung always liked things quick, exciting; he hates the slow and methodical so youâre a bit surprised when his pretty bare ass is still up in the air when you finally turn around. You let your finger tips whisper over his thighs, softly circling up his tender skin until heâs quivering under your touch. His cock is glistening, pressed harshly against his lower abdomen and his chest heaves as he attempts to keep quiet. In the tense silence, a resounding smack fills the room. Jisung jolts forward, surprised by the juxtaposition of your gentle caresses with the harsh hand that is turning his pretty ass pink. âYou think youâre pretty clever, huh, baby boy? You think that if you prance around half naked, like a slut, Iâll let you fuck me?âÂ
Jisungâs voice is high, whiny, and breathy, âI-I didnât plan that!â Another smack that stings your palm and his ass jiggles adorably, âDonât fucking lie to me. You knew I had friends over and you wanted my attention like the clingy little whore you are.â A groan escapes Jisungâs lips, muffled by the pillows, but you can hear it loud and clear. It rings through the silent room, hanging in the air as tension builds. By the way Jisung shivers, you can tell heâs thinking of apologizing but you donât let him. Grasping his fluffy black hair by the scalp, you wrench his face up to look at you.Â
His eyes are shining and wide and his lips are red from his teeth. âYou like this shit. You think your shitty excuses can fool me? Am I an idiot to you?âÂ
He shakes his head as best he can under your grip and his lips quiver, âI-I just really wanted your attention,â he whispers.Â
âColor, Jisung?âÂ
His earnest, round eyes hold yours with determination even as his bottom lip quivers. âGreen.âÂ
With that, you push his head back into the pillows, smacking his ass once more before fastening the strap onto your hips. The dildo is baby blue, matching Jisungâs skirt currently hanging in the closet. Jisung picked it out. âFine. If my little slut wants my fucking attention, heâs got it now,â you hiss as you squirt strawberry lube onto your finger and press it to his quivering hole. An almost inaudible whimper escapes Jisung and you reach down to harshly grasp his dick. He cries out, jolting into your hand involuntarily. âLet me hear you, Bambi. Donât hold back those pretty sounds.âÂ
He groans in to the pillow, âYes, maâam.â Satisfied, you press your two fingers into his ass, relishing the exhale he lets out. Slowly, you begin to push in and out of him, curling your fingers and scissoring deep into him. His soft moans fill the room, accompanying the familiar sounds of your fingers in him. Finally acting good, Jisung arches his back at the sensation and you feel him clench around your fingers. Sliding your fingers out of him, you lather more lube on the strap before positioning yourself behind him. The deep, throaty moan Jisung lets out when you enter him burns your core and you start roughly thrusting into him. Unlike your previously honey-slow movements, your thrusts are quick, so rapid that after a few moments, Jisungâs arms collapse under him.Â
Slapping, sounds of his hole, Jisungâs constant stream of weak moans fill your ears. His hand fumbles around behind him, wanting to hold your hands but you slap it away, pulling out quickly. A high whine escapes from Jisungâs swollen lips and you flip him over, yanking his thighs apart. âHold,â you instruct him and Jisung nods weakly, grabbing his ankles and positioning his hips up.Â
Itâs such a pretty scene: Jisungâs round, glassy eyes focused only on you, his flushed cheeks, his wet hole, and his glistening red cock. You ease the strap into him again, leaning down to grip his shoulders as you begin thrusting into him at the same rapid speed. Jisungâs pretty lips open as he scrunches his nose up, overcome with pleasure. His hair bounces with your thrusts and slapping rings in your ears. After you quickly reposition, Jisung lets out a high scream, âRight there! Yes, oh my god, right there.â Using your hands to push his hips down in tempo with your thrusts, you beckon Jisung closer to his unraveling. His face screws up and his gasps become rapid. Your hand begins rubbing his hard cock and he moans beautifully. Swiping over the slit you keep thrusting into him until his moans increase in volume and he cries out, âI-Iâm close!âÂ
At this, you fully pull out and away from Jisung. His cries of pleasure immediately turn into cries of pain as he sobs into the pillows, turning over to rub his cock in the covers. âWhy did you do that?â Jisung cries, his voice raw and sensitive as his eyes fill with tears.Â
âSuck it,â you demand, pushing your hips forward. Still fuzzy from his denied orgasm, Jisungâs lips fumble around the plastic and his doe eyes gaze up at you, even as tears spill over onto his pretty cheeks. He hollows his cheeks and moves up and down the plastic, never breaking eye contact with you. âWhy do you think you deserve to cum, Bambi? Youâve been nothing but a bad boy.âÂ
He whines into the plastic, averting his eyes, still sucking on the plastic like a lollipop. You pull away, gripping his cheeks with your hand. Thereâs his own cum mixed with lube on his lips, it makes them as glossy as his teary eyes. âAnswer me.â Jisungâs cheeks and the tips of his ears burn red. âI-I donât de-deserve to cum,â he whispers, pouting.Â
âAnd whyâs that?âÂ
Tears fill his eyes once again and he looks at you mournfully, âBecause Iâve been n-nothing but a b-bad boy.âÂ
âDo bad boys get to cum?â You ask him.Â
âN-no,â he whispers.Â
âDo bad boys get to fuck me?âÂ
He shakes his head around your hand, âBad boys d-donât deserve t-to fuck you.âÂ
Nodding you tell him, âLay back on the bed.â His eyes fill with sadness that pangs at your heart but he obeys, staring longingly at the strap that youâre taking off. Slowly, you clamber onto of him, your burning core dragging on his abdomen. Hands on his chest, you begin using his body, rolling your hips up and down his stomach as he does nothing but watch you with glassy eyes. The dejected look in his eyes tells you heâs disappointed youâre just gonna get yourself off yet thereâs a distinct excitement at watching you grind yourself onto his abs. So when you grab his dick and sink down on it though, he gasps, bucking up into you. Quickly, you begin bouncing on top of him as his gasps and moans of surprise mix with yours.Â
Jisung fills you so perfectly and stretches you so beautifully your mind is whirling. He gently caresses your thighs as he arches his back off the bed. The denied orgasm and tension made him sensitive. âYouâve b-been such a slut, baby,â you gasp, moving up and down his solid length, âB-but youâre my slut and I-I take care of you.âÂ
Jisung whines at your words, gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises. âD-does that mean y-youâre not mad at me?â You gaze down at him and his fucked-out self and smile, âWas e-earlier not punishment enough to sh-show you I was mad at you?â He shakes his head quickly, thrusting up to meet you as he starts whining and moaning. âI-Iâm close, maâam. C-can I c-cum please?âÂ
Jisung uses two fingers to rub your clit in tempo with your movements and you hum in pleasure. âC-cum whenever, Bambi,â you breathe, as the coil in your stomach tightens. Jisung nods, eyebrows scrunching as his moans become more high and loud, whiny cries fills the room as he shoots into you. Jisungâs pleasure-filled expression is all it takes for you to unravel, clenching around his twitching dick. Riding out both of your highs, you slowly descend from pleasure and collapse beside Jisung, whose chest heaves and eyes are shut.Â
When he doesnât open them even after youâve gathered your senses, you push yourself up onto an elbow, worry furrowing your brow. âBambi, was that too much?â His dark pretty eyes open slowly and you caress his tear stained cheek gently.Â
âI-Iâm sorry for making you mad, I just really m-missed you and wanted your attention.â Cooing you shake your head, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks before trailing down to press open mouthed kisses on his neck and nibbling on his sensitive part. He shivers as you whisper into his wonderful smelling neck, âIâm not upset at you, Jisung,â you tell him, curling your fingers into his hair, âDonât ever apologize for wanting my attention.â Kissing his neck again and sucking, you make him sigh contently, though thereâs still tension. âIâll always want to give my precious baby boy attention. You deserve the world, Bambi. Youâre my angel and I wanna give you everything.âÂ
All tension in Jisungâs face and body immediately relaxes and a shining, gummy smile spreads across his face. âReally?â He coos, tugging you closer to wrap his arms around you.Â
You nod firmly, âYouâre pretty, precious, wonderful boyfriend and what I say during sex doesnât mean anything because I love you so much.â Jisung giggles, blushing as he nuzzles his nose with yours, âOkay. I love you too, Y/n.â
#jisung#skz#han jisung#stray kids#jisung smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#han jisung smut#jisung fluff#skz fluff#han jisung fluff#stray kids fluff#jisung imagine#skz imagine#stray kids imagine#han jisung imagine#jisung one shot#skz one shot#han jisung one shot#stray kids one shot#bangchan#changbin#lee know#minho#hyunjin#felix#lee felix#seungmin#jeongin
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Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)
A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.
Word Count: 4K
Summary: When the Emperorâs behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. Youâre tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?
Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldnât resist.
âCome here Sonya! Come here!â Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.
The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.
Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.
âSonya! Sonya come!â she gestured.
With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.
âOooo, good girl! Good girl!â
You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherineâs last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.
The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didnât dare say a word to you. And you didnât say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.
Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of itâs taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.
âCan she do tricks?â she questioned.
âAlmost. Sheâs getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but sheâs better at being obedient.â
âAnd she doesnât tear things up?â she asked.
âOnly sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,â you answered.
âAh! Sheâs such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!â
Georgianaâs eyes went dark.
âWill you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!â
âIâd be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!â you added on.
âOh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?â
âWell, we read. And we chatâŠâ
âBut all that reading!? Isnât it time consuming!â
âA little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and overâŠbut in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.â
âIf you have any gossip about her, please share!â
âI..I, uh, will!â you promise.
âFirst of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, itâs coming up in about a month!â
âHmm, I donât knowâŠâ you mumbled.
At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.
âOh, Y/NâŠwhere is Y/N?â he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.
She pointed in your direction and he smiled.
As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.
âHello, GrigorâŠâ she said with a faded grin.
âHello, George,â he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.
âHow is the party?â he asked, hands placed behind the back.
âGoing perfect. Weâre being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.â She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.
You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of ââŠquite bitchyâŠâ It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.
Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.
âGeorge. I canât control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.â
Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.
âYouâre an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. Sheâs a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.â
Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.
âI didnât marry her because of you. And she didnât marry me so she could have my cock when you couldnât. I did this so that we all- we all-â he gestured to the people in the room âwonât be fucking ripped apart by Swedeâs in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when youâre asleep in the emperorâs bed. And I wouldnât lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.â
She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.
Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.
âI hope youâre enjoying yourself.â
âIâŠI amâŠâ you answered. âBut Iâm tired, letâs go home and play cards.â
âI agree.â
 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.
Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didnât walk at her certain time.
âHere you go, I know, Papa canât be there-but I will,â you assured the dog.
You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.
Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonyaâs prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.
Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.
âWhat is it? Some sort of creature!â you thought, walking forward.
It wasnât a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.
âG..GeorgianaâŠâ
She turned her head to you, squinting.
âYesâŠâ she grunted.
âWhat are you doing here?â
She began to laugh a little, bitterly.
âI could ask the sameâŠwhat are you doing here?â
âIâm walking SonyaâŠshe needs to be exercised so she wonât get into trouble from being bored,â you explained, gripping the leash.
âHuh, I know sometimesâŠsometimes Grigor goes with youâŠâ her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.
She seemed so pitiful you didnât have the heart to chafe her.
âYes, yes he doesâŠâ
Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.
âSometimes weâd walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you knowâŠI even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bedâŠheâŠhe cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasnât next to him and nowâŠnow he hates meâŠâ
She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.
âNo. No, I donât think he hates you at allâŠâ
âWhy did he speak to me that way?â
âHe justâŠhe got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. Heâs every bit as sad as you are for not marryingâŠâ
Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out  a smile.
âBut the truth isâŠin this court, thereâs plenty of women whoâve fucked Peter. More than half. Thatâs just a fact of life. But I⊠I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?â
âItâs normal,â you admitted. âitâs normal to want to be loved.â
âAnd the things it gives you. Itâs not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man whoâs skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. Thatâs the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I doâŠâ
She finally fell down into sobs.
âAnd he just...he couldnât accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I⊠I love him, I still do, he just couldnât accept me as I am and this world as it isâŠI thought he knew meâŠand that I knew himâŠâ
She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dogâs tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.
âGeorgianaâŠIâm so sorry I yelled at you that first dayâŠI saw you as a threat and didnât stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoesâŠâ
âUgh, youâreâŠyouâre as saccharine asâŠasâŠI donât even know, Y/N. Iâd put you in myâŠmy mouth and my blood would rush, and theyâd have to let it out with slugs.â
Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.
âIâm not the one in tearsâŠbutâŠhe used to keep a portrait of youâŠâ you questioned.
âHe didâŠis it there? MaybeâŠ.â
âNot anymoreâŠâ you explained flatly.
So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.
âI know you really do love Grigor. And you care for himâŠbut loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come hereâŠsometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on fromâŠâ you assured her. You arenât a bad person for wanting those things. Youâre a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.â
âI just keep wonderingâŠI keep wondering what would happen if he said yesâŠif he agreed to the termsâŠweâd be so happyâŠâ
And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.
You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.
âBut thereâs no use in that. Here, letâs get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel betterâŠâ
âBut Y/N, Grigor I thinkâŠheâs in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks youâŠhe picks you. And, well, thereâs nothing you can do about itâŠâ
Your stomach lurched.
    âGrigor might want a faithful wife. He mightâve thought he got that with you butâŠdefying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, heâs a genius at fucking so it could be worseâŠâ
âYou need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then youâll feel betterâŠâ you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.
 But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empressesâs private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.
âOrlo! How are you?â
âY/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?â he asked excitedly.
His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.
âI wasâŠI was shocked at first. His ideas felt likeâŠlike a blast of cold wind. But IâŠhe made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some timeâŠâ you explained with a shrug.
âHeâs one of my favorites, and tehreâs so muchâŠso much inside there. But IâŠI wish I could explain it allâŠâ
âLetâs go to my place, Iâll call for a plate...â you offered with a shrug and a smile.
Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.
Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with  a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.
âBut out of all of them, I think my favorite isâŠâ
The door creaked as it opened.
His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.
âHello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?â he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.
âI, uhâŠâ he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.
Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.
âThe empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing moreâŠâ you explained plainly.
âItâs fascinating. Isnât it!â you added, throwing back a look.
Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.
âVery.â
âOh, alrightâŠâ Grigor replied quietly.
Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigorâs eyes never left his steps.
 He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonyaâs begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.
You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.
With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.
âWhat is it?â You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.
âNothing. Nothingâs wrongâ he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.
âWhat is itâŠtell meâŠâ you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.
He turned around.
âI understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes⊠but I know you didnât choose to marry meâŠif youâŠif youâŠare in love⊠then I guess it would make it easierâŠbut you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!â
âIn love? With Orlo?!â you added.
His head snapped back at the sound of his name.
âIf you love the prick, then thatâs fine! It will make you bear being here better- itâs all fine!â He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to meâŠâ
âIâm not in love with Orlo!â you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didnât turn away.
âWhatâŠyou arenât? Both of you always talk together.â
 âI always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. Theyâre my friends. Heâs my friend as well⊠andâŠIâŠI promised you I wonât hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt youâŠand youâre obviously hurtâŠâ you reasoned.
The clock chimed the hour in the back.
âIâŠyes, I wasâŠI had memories of whenâŠyou knowâŠâ he muttered out, looking down.
You folded your arms and turned away from him.
âWell, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like Iâm apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?â
âUh-no! Not at all! Weâve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!â he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.
You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.
âIf I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!â you reasoned with a shrug.
Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.
 Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.
âJust dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.â You assured.
Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.
âAh, hello! Join me!â Peter cheered. âGrigor-make yourself at home! Thereâs already some food.
You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.
âHere, Y/NâŠhereâs the seat for you!â your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.
Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigorâs arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.
âI tell you- fucked a horse! Itâs just a rumor-but can you believe it!â he said.
Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting âno, I donât!â
Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.
âAnd thatâs what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-âOh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?â
The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.
Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.
âYour highness, of yes, of course weâve fucked. Several times!â you said.
Where he couldnât see, you kicked Grigorâs leg to alert him.
âOh, really!â he said.
âAh! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! ButâŠâ
You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.
âI have an eternally dry pussy, canât suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so itâs been rather disappointing. Itâs a miracle my husband tolerates me. Heâs hardly been able to finish the job!â
He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed âplay along.â His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.
âYes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? Theyâre boring, plain people even when fucking.â
Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.
âHumph. IâŠI think youâre right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.â
You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.
âPlease pour me another drinkâŠâ you said, holding your cup to a serf.
âBesdies, CatherineâŠsheâs been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and IâŠI cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!â
 As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.
âThat was brilliant!â He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.
âI knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you donât have to worry about anythingâŠat least for nowâŠâ you said with a shrug.
âOh, but the party tomorrowâŠyouâll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he mightâŠget carried awayâŠâ
âJust give him a galloon a vodka then, heâll wonât be able to stand.â
 --------------------------------------------------
As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing themâŠand supper would be served in an hour.
You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.â
âCome on, you sad bastards!? Why arenât you dancing!? Dance! I command you!â Peter cried out in joy.
âY/N! Y/N- we havenât danced too much-letâs dance! Dance with me!â Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.
âGrigor, thatâs the vodka talking!â
The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.
âIâŠI donât know theâŠâ you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.
âOh no-just follow me!â He said with a big smile and his face flushed.
  Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.
âGirgorâŠdo the trick! The trick!â Peter insisted, running up in the middle.
Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.
âHere. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.
He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.
âWe need smof practifâŠâ
But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even Georgeâs own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.
He set you down.
âLetâs try it again, put your leg on my shoulderâŠnow your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!â
He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.
âHa! I knew you could do it good chap!â Peter applauded before asking.
Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.
 He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.
âGrigorâŠbe carefulâŠâ
Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.
âLetâs get your clothes offâŠâ you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.
âYou wish to see me naked, you couldâve asked, darlingâŠâ
Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.
âIf you donât bathe, then youâre sleeping with SonyaâŠâ
He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.
âOhâŠ.hello doggie, cute doggieâŠgood doggieâŠâ
âTo bath, Grigor!â
Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didnât reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.
âNone of that tonight with you drunk off your head!â
âCanât I at least kiss you?â he complained childishly.
âFine, but it stops at kissing!â
Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when  you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.
âY/N, I love youâŠ.â
You froze solid, your stomach dropping.
âWhat?â
He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.
âY/N, my sweet angelâŠI love youâŠâ
Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.
âThatâs the vodka talking, now go to sleepâŠ.â
He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.
âI love you, Y/N. Iâm falling in love with you this minute andâŠIâm fucking terrifiedâŠâ
You let his arms settle.
âDonât wannaâŠget hurt, get shat onâŠbut every day IâmâŠ.falling more in love with youâŠand it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking screamâŠthat was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to godâŠâ
âGrigorâŠyou need to sleep. Youâre drunk. Only time will wear it off.â
Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.
âI canât believe Iâm fucking falling in fucking love all over againâŠnever thought after George that I wouldâŠ.never would let myselfâŠthought â
âBut GrigorâŠyouâŠ.â
âIâd like to see youâŠsee you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.â
You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.
âGrigorâŠdo youâŠdo you love meâŠ.do you really love meâŠâ
You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.
âBecause I think Iâm falling in love with you tooâŠâ you wanted to say.
taglist: @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joesleee  @grigorlee@itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @rhapsodyrecs @sebastiistanâ @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @gwiilymslee @isitstraightvodkaâ @cherry--cokeâ
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GETTING CAUGHT HAVING SEX BY PARENTS WITH EITHER SACKLER OR ALTMAN!đđ„°
MY ANGEL, I LOVE YOUđđđđ
ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE KITTEN.Â
PHILLIP ALTMAN
âI canât believe we have to sleep in the basement...âÂ
You patted Phillip's shoulder, handing him a pile of blankets with a small smile, âIt's okay, your sister needed to use your bedroom and weâll be okay down here.âÂ
âBut,â Phillip tossed the blankets down before wrapping you in his arms. Softly swaying you as you both stood, âI really wanted to make you squirt in my teenage bedroom.âÂ
âPhil!â you swatted him, trying to push away.Â
âI know, Iâm ashamed... but you look so pretty when you do.âÂ
You cocked a brow, eyes darting towards the fold-out bed and then up to Phillip's face. His eyebrows shot up, mouth making an âoâ, âYou dirty minx, you want me to make you squirt here? In my family basement? Next to the laundry?âÂ
âI guess we would have easier cleanup.âÂ
Phillip threw you to the bed, already yanking your leggings down to your ankles before pinning your legs to your chest. Your pussy lifted in the air, right under his chin as he rubbed his beard into your clit. Scratching the sensitive nub, making it twitch in pleasure. You let out a soft yip, hugging your ankles tighter with anticipation. Phillips tongue darted out, licking from your cunt to clit, flicking it over and over as it stiffened more and more. âPhilly,â whimpered, bottom lip trembling as he lapped at you over and over.Â
âWhat is it? Does my minx want something?âÂ
You nodded, spreading your legs enough for your face to pop out for him. Clenching in his face for you to notice how eager for him to shove anything into you. Phillip nodded in understanding, âKeep your legs up,â he demanded. Pulling off the bed to abandon his shoes before losing his belt. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up before smacking the outside of both your thighs. Watching the supple flesh jiggle before he gripped them tightly and rocked your body towards him. A hand flew to his zipper, yanking it down to pull out his hard cock. Phillip placed a forearm across the back of your thighs, pulling one of your hands to wrap around his girth.Â
âPlay with me, play with your favorite toy minx.âÂ
Your hand squeezed his base, his knees moving his body closer to your hand as he spat on your pussy. Without warning Phillip shoved two fingers until you, hooking them to immediately attack your special bundle of nerves on your front wall. Pulling a wail from your throat in response, your hand stroking him harshly. Your walls began clenching over and over as he fingered you, faster than he ever had. You took in the sight of him, focusing so hard on making you cum. His bicep bulging out of his shirt, his forearm clenched on your legs. The vein on the side of his neck straining against his skin, his soft mouth was popped open in awe as your pussy opened for him. Allowing him to worm in a third finger, âYouâre so good for me, youâd do anything to make me happy wouldnât you?âÂ
âYes! Phil!â you slipped your fist on his tip over and over. Squeezing over and over as you passed the ridge, gathering his precum and gliding it along his length. Phillip groaned at you, eyes momentarily closing in bliss as his fingers let up. You whined at the loss, bucking as much as you could in your current position.Â
âYou know what would make me so fucking happy?âÂ
You shook your head.Â
âIf you squirted,â he fucked into you fast and hard, your slick gushing out of you as he moaned. âWant you to soak my sleeve, can you do that for me? I can feel how bad you want to.âÂ
âAh! Please, just a little more!âÂ
Phillip nodded at you, moving his free hand to press into your folded lower abdomen. Applying just enough pressure for you to crack, convulsing in his grip as you wailed. Pussy squirting over and over along him, just as he asked for, your cum running down his forearm as he looked at you in awe.Â
âAgain baby.âÂ
You cried, body aching but you couldnât stop yourself. His fingers wouldnât stop fucking into you to stop you from cumming again. You brought a hand up to gather some of your spend, clicking it along his length as you tried to give him a hand job while he made you fountain for him. Phillip groaned, wrapping his lips around your clit in appreciation. Moaning as he tasted your cum, easing one finger out of you, softly petting your walls with his middle and forefinger.Â
You were drunk on him, eyes lazily opening as you stared at the stairs to your left. Breath catching in your throat when you saw Phillipâs mom momentarily stalled in the middle of the stairs.Â
âI heard commotion, but I see you both are just fine...âÂ
âMommy!â Phillip cried, his palm trying to cover your sex from his therapist momâs eyes, âAnnounce yourself next time!âÂ
She pranced back up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder before the door shut.Â
âLike you could hear me over her screams!âÂ
ADAM SACKLER
âHey,â you snapped in Adamâs face, âYou need to be good today. This is your first impression, and they werenât thrilled when you made sex noises the other day while I was on the phone.âÂ
âYour sister laughed. I heard her.âÂ
You rolled your eyes as you straightened the collar on his shirt. He looked ridiculous, you had dressed him in some nice pants and a button-up, something he didnât even own until 24 hours ago. He was much too big for normal shirt sizes at the store, his biceps looked like they were going to explode out at any moment. And the pants left little to the imagination, thank god you found dark slacks so his bulge wasnât noticeable to the naked eye. But your parents were taking you and Adam to a nice restaurant before going back to the house for dessert. He scratched at his neck after you finished, whining when you swatted his hands away. âFuck, I canât breathe,â Adam cried, âI look like I mugged a bellboy and stole his clothes.âÂ
âYou look very responsible baby,â you kissed his cheek before walking to the front door, grabbing your clutch and opening the front door. âLet's go, before you rip that shirt.â
Your parents were civil at dinner, asking Adam questions about his theater work and woodworking. About hobbies and interests outside of his main focus, where he was from, other nosey questions that he handled like a champ. If it werenât for the flashcard training you made him go through the past week he probably wouldâve gone on a personal tangent about his personal opinions on the salad your dad chose to eat but he knew you wanted him to make a good impression. You were so proud of him, holding his hand under the table and squeezing it when he made a smart joke, or made your mom blush when he gave her a slightly offhand compliment. By the end of it, you could tell he was drained from being personable, his trademark smile was fading as it dragged on. Finally your parents paid the bill and asked you both to follow them home.Â
Adam let out a big groan when he got into the car, throwing his face towards you as he sighed, âKid, that was exhausting. This shirt is so uncomfortable and I couldnât touch you under the table the entire time because your dad was watching me like a hawk.âÂ
âYou did so well,â you grabbed his cheeks and gave him a big kiss. Lingering long enough for him to relax into you, humming as your lips worked over one another. Softly tasting each other, Adamâs tongue briefly licked into your mouth, forcing your jaw to open enough to take him. A warm palm slid to your bare thigh, peaking through the slit in your dress. A deep groan sounded into your mouths as he whispered on your lips, âAnd you looked so good, it took everything in me to devour you. So soft, all for me.âÂ
You smiled, nudging his hand away, âCome on, they are going to be mad if we're late.âÂ
Dessert was quick, all of you flooding into the den where your parents told stories about their college years and courtship. You could tell Adam was checked out, focusing on you more than anything else. After a few glasses of wine, you were feeling flush, turning your attention to your handsome man. Watching you with total admiration and devotion, you wanted to eat him up. And you found that you couldnât wait to get home.Â
âIâll be right back,â you told the room, slowly sauntering away. Letting your hips sway just a little too much, but you knew your parents didnât notice. They were too into whatever they were talking about to see you and Adam eye-fucking each other. As you turned the corner, you heard Adam excuse himself to the kitchen to get some water, your parents paying him no mind either. The two of your locked eyes, Adamâs completely black as they raked up and down your figure. You gave him a big smile before running up the stairs, Adam's footsteps following close behind.Â
The door to your childhood bedroom was soon shut as softly as possible before Adam had you pinned to the mattress. Facedown as you giggled at him, hands fisting the sheets as you heard him fall to his knees behind you, his large hands pushing your skirt above your hips.Â
âYouâre such a dirty slut,â Adam groaned, pulling your panties to the side before he shoved his mouth to your folds. Licking deep through them, tasting every inch of your flesh. His thumbs hooked into you, prying you apart so he could look in awe, âFucking best cunt ever, been teasing me with it all night. Not letting me fuck it before we left.âÂ
You moaned when he dove in again, strong tongue fucking in and out of your entrance. Slurping up your slick that poured into his mouth, filling the room with the sound of your excited sex. You rocked your hips back into him, mouthing at the sheets as he groaned into you, âCoulda filled you with my cum, made you sit in it all night.âÂ
âSackler...âÂ
âYou want like that? Having to sit across from your dad full of my cum? Heâd be so disappointed in what a filthy slut you are.âÂ
Adm smacked your thigh, a little too loud, before standing up. He ran his hands across your ass, gripping and bouncing your cheeks as he ground his slacks into you. âM gonna fuck you, right here. Make them hear you and all the pretty noises you make for me.âÂ
âPlease,â your voice broke as you looked back at him. Your mascara slightly clumping from the tears that were building from the teasing. âGive me your cum, wanna feel it deep inside me. Please Sackler.âÂ
His zipper was pulled down, yanking his slacks down mid-thigh while he fished his cock out. Lewdly smacking it on your cheeks to leave a smear of precum, slipping it between your legs as fucking your clit a few times. âYou gonna show me? How deep I can bury my cum inside your little cunt?âÂ
You clenched in anticipation, his head at your entrance as you nodded, âIâll show you, baby, want your cum.âÂ
Adam growled as he pushed in, seating himself to the hilt. Cock head rubbing your cervix before he pulled back, beginning to thrust wildly into you without abandon. Both of you creating a symphony of moans, bare skin slapping against one another as you gushed around him. Adam laughed as he fucked you, âFuckinâ tight cunt, always so wet for me. You like me fucking you here, letting your family know what a slut-.âÂ
The door creaked open, both of you freezing, Adamâs cock buried inside you as your momâs head popped in.Â
âHey, sweetie, letting you know weâre headed to b-Oh my god!âÂ
âMom!âÂ
She squealed again, eyes darting back and forth between Adams sweaty smile and your fucked out face. She slapped a palm over her eyes, backing out of the room, âIâm sorry! I shouldâve knocked-oh my- weâre going to bed!âÂ
You heard her footsteps scurry away, leaving the door slightly ajar in her haste. Adam laughed, thrusting into you harshly as he smacked your ass, âThey are never going to forgive me for this.âÂ
You giggled at him, bouncing back, desperate to finish. Adam groaned as you clenched around him, canting his hips harder into you. Pounding your cervix with each thrust, he bent over your body. Chest flush with your back as he licked your ear, âToo bad it wasnât your dad.âÂ
#adam sackler#adam sackkler x reader#phillip altman#phillip altman x reader#oneshots#ask fridays#i love both the goblins#ashleigh i am dehydrated#adamdriver#adam driver#historyandfandoms50
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Harmonized Souls
So I was blessed with getting to create a story for the @wincestsoulmateszine Pairing: Wincest Author Notes: Soulmates, soul songs, au no Angels, Samâs powers. Summary: Everyone is born with a tune one that grows as you do until it becomes your very own song waiting to find its matching one. You can also read it on AO3
Dean felt himself go hollow as Sam's matching cords went silent. He couldn't breathe it was as if part of his soul, part of him had withered up and died the moment Sam took his final breath in his arms.
He couldn't live like this.
If it could even be considered living.
He had seen firsthand what losing a soulmate could do to someone, his dad, Bobby and Rufus just to name a few. Dean didn't want to live like that, hollow and waiting for death to claim him so he could join Sam.
"So let it end!" Dean heard himself shut at Bobby when he said something about the world ending. It was like he was underwater hearing things muffled and he didn't care about the world not when his had just ended.
There was nothing left that mattered to him.
He wanted others to feel the agony that was ripping his soul apart at this moment staring at the lifeless body of his soulmate Dean let himself be pulled into his memories anything was better than this.
Everyone is born with a tune one that grows as you do until it becomes your very own song waiting to find its matching one.
At four years old Dean Winchester didn't care much about soulmates or soul songs. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of that. He had much more important things to focus on like his new baby brother.
Samuel Winchester was a happy baby but there was no missing that he was happiest when being held by his big brother.
There were nights though, rare nights when Sam would act up and cry and until he was placed in Dean's arms and Dean began to hum the song that only he could hear, his soul song.
Sam would stare up at Dean completely entranced as he sang softly and Dean felt like nothing could top this moment.
Sam was four when he finally began understanding the tune he was hearing, the one that grew louder when Dean was around.
Still, at that innocent age, Sam began humming the tune under his breath as he pranced his teddy bear, that Dean had given him, across the sheets of the bed in Pastor Jim's house in the room that he and Dean shared.
"Sammy, where did you hear that song?" Dean asked as he stared at Sam wondering if he remembered him humming that tune all those years ago.
Lifting his head Sam studied his brother and Dean knew if it had been anyone else that had interrupted Sam's playtime he would be pouting and giving them his full puppy dog eyes but when it came to Dean Sam would give him his full attention.
"It is the song I hear in my head." A thoughtful look appeared on Sam's face, "It gets louder when you are around."
Dean didn't understand how could Sam hear his heart song, the only other one who was supposed to hear it was his soulmate. At the age of eight going on nine staring into the beaming face of his baby brother, the one person that Dean loved more than anyone on Earth was his soulmate and when he accepted that knowledge something seemed to settle in him and he felt whole for the first time.
Taking a seat beside Sam he began to hum his song and it didn't take long for Sam to join in and the room was soon filled with the joyous music of two soulmates finding one another.
+*****+
Dean was Sam's first.
His first kiss. Sam remembers how shy and awkward he was when Dean smiled that smile that is just for him as he stroked Sam's lower lip with his thumb before lowering his head and pressed his lips against Sam's.
Sam felt his song burst to life as it entwined with Dean's, the two of them moving in complete harmony.
That first kiss leads to their first night where Dean laid Sam out beneath him and took his time worshiping every inch of Sam's body, laying claim to his soulmate and making sure that no one could ever doubt that they were meant to be.
Whispered I love you were exchanged as their jointed bodies moved in time with the song that they could only hear, the song of their two souls confirming they are one.
Now just because one finds their soulmate doesn't mean that everything is perfect, it doesn't work like that. Soulmates still have their fights, their doubts and worries. Sam and Dean had their fair share of them.
Time and time again their bond was tested but never was great as when Sam went to Stanford.
Sam wanted out of the hunting life but it was everything to Dean. Stanford was Sam's dream school but as he looked at the acceptance letter he knew he wouldn't go if it meant giving up Dean.
Slowly closing his fist and crumpling the letter Sam chose to let that dream go only for another hand to wrap around his own and Sam found himself staring into the green eyes of his world.
"Where you ever going to tell me?" Dean asked in a low voice as he took the letter from Sam's hand and began smoothing it out.
Sam could hear the hurt among their soul cords and his heart ached for the pain he caused Dean. "I was. I wanted to tell you. I did!" Sam cried when he saw the disbelief mixing with the hurt in Dean's eyes and he needed to make things right, "I just didn't know how."
"Were you planning on leaving me, Sammy?" Dean hated how hurt he sounded as he asked that question but he needed to know the answer.
Sam moved with all the skills he had learned as a hunter and before Dean could register what was happening Sam had him pinned to the wall, "Never." Sam hissed out his sunflower eyes shining with unshed tears. "I could never leave you, Dean, you are my everything. I had this foolish dream where we could leave the hunting life behind, I could go to school and you could follow your own dreams. Where we could settle down as normal people and just be us."
Pressing his forehead against Dean's, "But that wouldn't be us. I know how deeply you love being a hunter and I couldn't take that away from you. I couldn't rip something you away from the life you love for my selfish wants."
"They aren't selfish Sam," Dean whispered. He loves hunting it is a part of his life but he loves Sammy more and the fact that Sam was willing to give up his dream because he loves him more made Dean fall deeper in love with Sam. "You know there are probably hunts in California." Dean drawled out.
Sam's head snapped up and he stared at Dean in pure awe and a little bit of hope, "Dean are you saying what I think you are saying."
"I am Sammy, if you want to go to Stanford then I am coming with you. After all, we are a package deal." Dean reminded him before he pressed his lips against Sam's in a deep kiss.
It hadn't been easy telling their dad but in the end, John understood, he didn't want his sons to go through the pain of living without a soulmate.
Jessica Moore had been sunshine on a cloudy day and in another life, another time Sam might have fallen completely in love with her but even though they were apart their heart songs still hummed in the back of his mind a part of Dean was always with Sam.
Of course, that didn't stop their friends from talking and hinting about when they were going to start dating.
Sam felt himself panicking he didn't know where he gave them any idea he was interested in Jess, he talked about Dean all the time.
Jess could see the panic in Sam's eyes, "I like you Sam Winchester but I can see that your heart is taken and I am still waiting for my soulmate. I'll make sure our nosy friends remember that you have a soulmate." Sure Jess thought Sam was hot but he was so deeply in love with Dean, she could hear it when he talked about him, it shone off of him and his Dean smile outshone the sun.
+*****+
Tossing his keys into the small bowel by the door of the apartment Sam shared with Dean he let out a small sigh he missed Dean something fierce but Dean was on a hunt and he wasn't sure when he would be back. Sam was just glad that Cabal was free to go with him.
Moving throughout the dark room, he couldn't be bothered to turn on the lights Sam sensed he wasn't alone, he might have taken a step back from hunting but he remembered everything he had been taught. Â
Sam waited until the other person was in the room then he struck soon two bodies were dancing a familiar waltz.
The moment he heard his song cords burst to life Sam knew who he had pinned under him before the cocky voice drawled out, "Whoa there tiger."
"Dean." Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest, Dean was here, at last, he was once again reunited with his soulmate he finally felt whole.
"I missed you too baby boy." Dean purred before kissing Sam deeply on that Sam happily returned it had been too long since they felt each other's bodies. Even if Dean had only been gone for a week.
Once they were the desire to relearn each other's bodies was sedated Dean uttered a sentence that would drag Sam back into the hunting world, "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home for a while."
+*****+
Pulled out of his memories Dean knew what he had to do. "I know you are going to hate me for this but I can't live without you, Sam. If I can't have you back I am going to end up joining you." Dean knew it was the truth without Sam there was no point in him living.
+*****+
Azazel the monster that had destroyed their family was finally dead.
"How long did you get?" Sam asked in a broken voice.
"One year and it was worth it. I couldn't live without you." Dean knew that Sam wasn't happy with the deal he had made with a demon.
"And you expect me to be able to live without you? To know that you are trapped in hell, being tortured because you sold your soul to bring me back!" Sam could understand why Dean did what he did because if it had been Dean he would have done the same thing. But he only had a year, one year to save Dean from his deal and if he had to he would walk into hell itself and pull Dean out.
"I'm going to find a way to save you, Dean, no matter what," Sam vowed and Dean could feel it across their bond Sam meant every word.
"Just don't do anything that would damn you, Sam." Dean pleaded.
Sam's eyes blazed, "Then I will happily damn myself if it meant saving you."
+*****+
One Year Later
Sam felt the matching cords growing stronger the deeper into hell he went. He nearly crumpled at the sheer pain Dean was going through at that very moment and it filled him with even more rage.
He had failed. He hadn't been able to break the demon deal even with the help of Ruby and her training. He had been powerless as he watched Dean be torn to shreds by hell hounds, hearing him scream.
Something powerful in him had awakened as Lilith stood above him gloating about Dean's fate and Sam had enjoyed pulling her essences out of her host body and ripping her to shreds until there wasn't even a wisp of her left.
He had lost count of the crossroad demons he had summoned forth to make a deal only for them to end up the way Lilith had. Sam had felt nothing as he tortured demon after demon to find a way into Hell. He saved their host but each demon met the same end.
It wasn't long before word reached even the deepest part of hell that Azazel's chosen Boy King had embraced his powers completely and was on a vengeance-filled one-man war on all demons until he was allowed into hell.
Demons always thought of themselves first and there were those who didn't want to feel the wrath of the Boy King of Hell and they helped him find away if only to gain mercy from Sam.
Sam, who had felt Dean's pain along their bond, whose song was filled with nothing but agony and pain, had no mercy left and they met the same fate as all of those who crossed Sam's path.
Even the mighty Alistair, head torture of Demons and breaker of souls was no match for Sam. He knew that this was the one responsible for Dean's suffering.
"S...Sammy?" Dean managed to get out as he stared into Sam's smiling face, "Please no. Don't use him." Dean didn't think he would survive if Alistair used Sam to torture him.
Sam's heart ached at the fear in Dean's voice and the fact that Dean was begging, Dean never begged - well unless they were in the middle of some fun times - Sam wanted to bring Hell down around them and make sure that no other innocent soul went through pain like this. "I'm real Dean. I am here and I am getting you out. I promise." Sam vowed.
With utter gentleness, Sam gathered Dean's soul into his arms and a piece of his heart unfroze as Dean snuggled into his hold and he spotted the amulet around Dean's neck. Even in Hell Dean carried the symbol of their bond.
Demons and souls cowered away from the power coming off of Sam in waves, not since Lucifer himself had they felt anything like this. Like the Red Seas, the demons parted as Sam moved towards the entrance.
Just as he reached the entrance Sam stopped and looking over his shoulder he announced, "All innocent souls here because of the demon deals they made are to be released and never again shall an innocent be brought here."
The demons could only nod they didn't dare go against one of Azazel's chosen, they were powerless against the likes of Sam Winchester.
+*****+
Touches full of tenderness and love were what Dean awoke to.
"Sammy?" Dean didn't want to believe it, didn't want to open himself to a new trick from Alistair.
Then he heard it the soft humming of a tune only he and one other knew. He had tucked his soul song deep within him, in a place that no demon could reach.
"Sammy, is this real?" Dean asked in a hoarse voice.
Sam's beautiful face came into view and his eyes were full of love as he wrapped Dean's hand around the amulet. "It's real Dean. I told you I would save you and we never have to worry about demons coming after us again." Sam promised.
Using what little strength he had Dean tugged Sam down onto the bed, it had been so long since he last held Sam. Nuzzling his nose into Sam's neck Dean breathed in the scent that was distinctly Sam, he felt Sam's song cords wrap around his and once again they merged and sung in harmony.
"I think we have earned a long vacation," Dean commented and Sam's laughter filled him with warmth, it would be a long time before the memories faded but he had Sam by his side and that would help in the healing.
Smiling Sam ran his fingers through Dean's hair as he hummed their soul song out loud just for them. Â
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Muted Worries (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}
Title: Muted Worries Rating: PG-13 Length: 1900 Warnings: Post-Partum Depression, discussion of post-pregnancy body changes, and lots and lots of ANGST. Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in 1997 about two weeks after SofĂaâs birth. I literally wish I could see this chapter as a scene, because the emotions hurt while writing this. Summary: Reader grapples with her emotions and worries.Â
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Josie was obsessed with her sister. If Chucho was holding SofĂa, Josie was perched on the chair beside him; if Javier was carrying her around, Josie was right underfoot; and if you were feeding her, Josie was there asking you to hold the bottle.Â
You wished you could harness her enthusiasm and feel something. But you couldnât. You brushed it off as lingering exhaustion, a sort of fatigue that ran straight to the core of your being.Â
Everything hurt. Worse than it had with Josie. Or at least, worse than you remembered. SofĂa was smaller than her sister and yet it felt like youâd given birth to a water buffalo, instead of a baby.Â
No one ever talked about how miserable women felt after childbirth â and it wasnât like you could even complain about it to Connie. You already felt guilty enough for feeling miserable. Like you were a bad mother for being disinterested in everything.Â
Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Youâd tried to avoid prescriptions your entire life â for obvious reasons â but this was one you couldnât avoid.Â
The fact that you couldnât feed your daughter was probably another part of it. And pumping a dozen times a day, only to send it down the drain was a depressing venture. No one talked about how much this shit fucked a woman up. No one.Â
âHeyââ Javier started as he walked into the bedroom.Â
âKnock much?â You snapped.Â
Javier froze and you watched as the warmth faded from his expression, âShit. Iâll come back.â He muttered as he moved to retreat from the room.Â
âJust stay.â You said with a beleaguered sigh as you shut off the machine, unscrewing the full bottle and sitting it aside on the nightstand. âSorry.â
âI can go.â Javier offered, not quite meeting your eyes as he looked across the room at you.Â
âYouâre already here, just stay.â
You readjusted the pump on your other breast, attaching the second bottle before turning the machine back on. The quiet whirring filled the uncomfortable silence that had settled between you.Â
Javier lingered by the door, like he was planning for a quick escape. You couldnât even blame him. None of this was worth the hassle.Â
âPops thought it might be nice if we got out of the house and went to the beach this evening.â He suggested, rubbing his lips together as he glanced at you.Â
âIâll see if Iâm up to it.â You winced when the suction of the pump pinched your skin. âShit.â
âDo you needââ
âIâve got it.â You waved him off as you shut the pump off and pulled it off your breast, causing a little milk to spill. âActually, can you grab me the towel?â You pointed to the hand towel sitting on the foot of the bed.Â
Javier closed the distance between the two of you, snatching the towel off the bed and passing it to you. âHow are you feeling?â
You rolled your eyes, âLike shit.â You wiped off your breast, sitting the towel aside as you gestured to the full bottle. âCan you throw it away? I donât want to see it.â
âOf course,â He said softly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, before taking the bottle into the bathroom to get rid of it.Â
It was fucking defeating.Â
âAre the stitches still bothering you?â Javier questioned as he stepped back into the bedroom with the empty bottle.Â
You shrugged, hooking the machine back up to finish pumping your left breast. âTheyâre itchy.â
Javier hesitantly perched on the edge of the bed, reaching out to rest his hand on your leg. âThat means theyâre healing.â He reminded you.Â
âI know.â You nodded slowly as you watched the milk drip into the bottle. âI hate this, Javi.âÂ
He squeezed your leg, âYou still gonna try to hold out until you can breastfeed?â
âI donât know,â You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. You hated feeling weak and this shit made you feel like you were frail and stupid. Crying over not being able to feed your child. No one understood. âWeâll see.â
âIâm, uh⊠Iâm sorry for barging in.â Javier said quietly, his brows drawn together as he looked down at where his hand was resting on your leg. âI shouldâve knocked.â
âItâs fine.â You told him with a tightlipped smile. âItâs not really that big of a deal.â You reached down to catch his hand, giving it a little squeeze. âThe beach sounds nice. Even if I donât go, you and your dad should go. Heâs been cooped up here for too long.âÂ
âHeâs gonna stay another week,â Javier informed, his jaw working slowly as he looked down at where your hands were. âThen heâll be out of our hair and things can go back to normal.â
Normal.Â
Did you even remember what normal was? Had you felt like this with Josie? You didnât think you had â you hadnât exactly had the privilege of falling apart when you were in Colombia.Â
What was normal?Â
âYeah.â You nodded, sitting up a little straighter then as you held out the second filled bottle, âDo you mind?â
âOf course not.â Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and took the bottle from you. He was in the bathroom longer this time â quiet.Â
When he emerged with the rinsed out bottle, his eyes looked red, but you didnât have the energy to care. You barely had the energy to care about anything these days.Â
âYou gonna stay in here?â Javier questioned, shifting anxiously from foot-to-foot as he stood at the end of the bed, not quite meeting your gaze.Â
âI need my heating pad.â You answered, sliding your legs over the side of the bed, wiggling your toes as you pressed your feet to the floor. âIâll come out there.â
Javier pulled open the door and held it open for you as you wrapped your throw around your shoulders and made your way towards him.Â
âHey,â You whispered, stopping in front of him.Â
âYeah?â He arched a brow.Â
âI love you.â You told him gently, reaching out to brush your knuckles against his cheek, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, before making your way out the door.Â
âMommy!â Josie cheered, as you stepped into the family room. âSissy burped big!â
âDid she?â You laughed softly, summoning as much enthusiasm as you could for her benefit. âDid your abuelo feed her good?â
You caught sight of the wary look Chucho gave Javier as his eyes shifted between the two of you. But he was quick to put whatever that was aside when he met your gaze.Â
âShe ate like a prize calf,â He remarked, cradling her to his chest as she fussed at the new commotion in the family room. âHow are you feeling, chica?â
You sank down on the sofa and adjusted the heating pad over your stomach, âCramping.â You offered with a shrug. âAnd tired.âÂ
âCan I kiss it better?â Josie asked innocently as she crouched down next to the sofa.Â
âIt might work,â You intoned, playing with her curls.Â
âO-Tay, mommy!â Josie leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your stomach. âAll better!â
You smiled at her and echoed, âAll better!âÂ
Josie giggled, before prancing across the family room to the armchair where Chucho was sitting. âSissy! You gots to get bigger so youâre more fun.âÂ
You tilted your head to look behind you, catching Javierâs gaze. You wished you knew what was going on behind those stormy looks, but you werenât certain you could stomach more guilt. You knew it wasnât fair to make him bottle it all up â but you couldnât do it.Â
Javier rested his hand on the arm of the sofa, leaning over you.Â
âWhat are you doing?â You laughed, a genuine laugh that made your heart warm. You reached up and played your fingers through his hair. âHi.â
âHi.â He breathed out as he peppered a line of soft kisses along your jaw, before his breath warmed your cheek by your ear. âI love you too.â Javier murmured and you swore you felt a tear slide down his cheek and land on yours, before it fell into your hair.Â
 ââ
 âHow was the beach?â You questioned sleepily as the bathroom light cut into the darkness of the bedroom and woke you up.Â
âGood.â Javier offered, shutting off the light and making his way through the darkness. âDidnât mean to wake you.â
âItâs alright.â You assured him, rubbing at your eyes as they adjusted to the lack of light. âWhat time is it?â
âJust after nine.â He answered as the bed dipped behind you. âI fed SofĂa.â
You reached out and ran your hand down his back, âThank you.âÂ
âOf course.â Javier sighed heavily and you listened to the sound of his watch dropping onto the nightstand, before he settled down on the bed beside you. âHow was your evening alone?â
âI got two children cleaned, dressed, and down before eight.â You grinned, even though he couldnât see you. âAn achievement.â You stretched your leg out beneath the covers, running your foot along his calf. âWhatâd you do?â
âLet Stevie run around the beach,â He explained, shifting closer to you. âTook pops down to the icecream shop on the boardwalk.â
âOhh. Now youâre making me sad I didnât go.â You shifted closer to him too, draping your arm over his chest.Â
âIt was good.â Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. âPops used to take me out on this one stretch of road when we had our serious talks. Beach doesnât have the same feel.â
Your heart clenched in your chest. âIs Chucho alright?â You remembered all the times Javier used to talk about those long talks with his father.Â
âHmm?â Javier sniffed. âYeah, heâs good. Fuckerâs gonna outlive both of us and the girls, I bet.âÂ
âOh.â You chewed on your bottom lip. âWell thatâs good.âÂ
Javier curled his fingers around your hand, squeezing it three short times. âThereâs nothing to worry about, baby. We just used the time to talk. Father to son.â
âThatâs good.â You mustered up just enough conviction in your voice to mask the way your nerves were settling in. You remembered Javier telling you about the time Chucho took him out on a drive to talk about how foolish he was for asking Lorraine to marry him.Â
Were you some mistake Chucho wanted to lecture him on? The thought didnât make sense â you were pretty sure Chucho liked you more than Javier. But those fears still crept into your mind, nevertheless.Â
âI bet Stevie enjoyed getting two hours of free beach access.âÂ
Javier hummed in agreement, âShe crashed on her bed as soon as we got home.âÂ
You smiled to yourself as you molded your body against the side of his, wanting that skin-to-skin contact wherever you could get it. To hold onto him as tight as you could.Â
âJavier?â
âHmm?â He ran his hand down your back. âWhat is it, baby?â
âWeâre good, right?â You whispered so quietly you werenât sure if he could even hear you or not.Â
Javier pulled you in even closer to him, wrapping both of his arms around you. âOf course we are, baby.â He pressed a kiss to your forehead at your hairline. âYou should go back to sleep. Two will get here soon.âÂ
âYeah.â You breathed out, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. How were you supposed to sleep, now that you had something new to worry about?Â
But even then, those worries felt muted in comparison to everything else.Â
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