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livingformintyoongi · 8 days ago

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Undeniable Temptation | Min Yoongi

Summary: It's three in the morning and you're still awake. The clock keeps ticking, and Yoongi still hasn't called. There were never any promises of love in your marriage, but even so, the thought of him being with another woman tears your soul apart— and the fact that he doesn’t feel the same way you do only makes it worse. Author’s note: Hi again!!! I know it’s been weeks since I last took a Valentine’s request, but in my defense, I really wanted this one to be as good as possible because it’s for my dear @ktownshizzle — so it took me a little longer, oops! Anyway, I finally finished it, and here it is! I hope you enjoy it 💗 Pairing: CEO!Yoongi x Fem!Reader AUs: Bad Boy!AU Word count: 7.8k (I'M SO SORRY) Warnings/tags: Smut (MDNI), Yoongi acts like a jerk at first, but then he’s a total sweetheart <3, mentions of fighting (not between them!), arranged marriage, unprotected sex (DON’T do this, it’s dangerous!!) Permanent Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics @tan-veee @angellekookie @meadowsweetskoo You can join the taglist here! Dividers by @omi-resources

The soft ticking of the living room clock echoed through the silence, each beat pushing your nerves closer to the edge. You stared at the clock hands for a moment. 3:05 a.m.

Three in the morning… and Yoongi still wasn’t home.

You rose from the couch for what felt like the hundredth time, pacing across the room with restless steps, biting down on your thumbnail in a poor attempt to settle the unease bubbling in your chest. It wasn’t the first time Yoongi had come home this late, but tonight felt different. He always let you know ahead of time—always. Whether it was work or hanging out with his friends, he never forgot to text. But tonight? Nothing. Just silence.

And yet, here you were. Awake. Waiting. Because you couldn’t fall asleep without knowing he was safe.

Your marriage might have been arranged, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care. And he cared, too… in his own quiet, distant way.

From day one, you’d both made it clear—there were no strings attached, no expectations. It wasn’t love. Hell, you barely knew each other. But after living together for over a year and a half, after countless public dinners hand in hand, after he’d—thrown—his jacket over your shoulders to keep you warm, after he’d shown up with comfortable flats so you could change out of your heels… after all of that, somewhere along the way, you’d grown fond of him.

Too fond.

It wasn’t love. Of course not. You just… cared. As one human to another. That was all.

You exhaled sharply, dropping back onto the couch—again. The weight of your thoughts pressed down harder with each minute. You hated this—hated the complicated mess of feelings Yoongi stirred in you. Hated that dull ache in your chest, the one that twisted painfully at the thought of him being with someone else. You hated feeling anything at all. Especially when you were just the wife he was forced to tolerate for the rest of his life.

Was this what marriage was supposed to feel like? Was every couple haunted by this constant fear? Or were you the only one clinging to something that had never even been real?

God. You weren’t even his real wife. Why did it hurt this much?

Pathetic.

You reached for your phone, your fingers moving slower than usual. You winced when the harsh brightness of the screen hit your eyes, cursing under your breath as you fumbled to lower it.

And then you saw them—three new messages. Yoongi.

You sat upright, heart stuttering in your chest as your eyes scanned the short texts he’d sent… thirty minutes ago.

> I’m coming home.

I’ll be there in about forty minutes.

Don’t wait up.

You read them again. And again. And again.

Seriously? That was it? He messaged you at two-thirty just to say he was on his way? Couldn’t he have told you earlier? Couldn’t he be a halfway decent husband and text you after work, let you know he was… doing something?

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, tossing your phone onto one of the throw pillows with a bitter scoff. If he meant what he said, he’d be home in about ten minutes. Forty minutes… that was the time it took to reach the outskirts of the city.

His office was just fifteen minutes away. His friends lived nearby. There was no reason to be that far out unless…

Unless it wasn’t work.

Unless there was someone else. Someone hidden, tucked away just far enough that you’d never find out.

Screw your earlier mental speech— If he was cheating on you, you were absolutely capable of breaking his damn nose.

The soft sound of keys jingling briefly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing every inch of your body to freeze in place. He had arrived. Yoongi was home, and you had no idea what to do or where to hide because, even if you hadn’t done anything wrong, you felt like you’d just committed a crime and the police were about to catch you red-handed.

Despite the fear and anxiety that screamed for you to retreat to your room, crawl under the covers, and force yourself to pretend to be asleep—ignoring the fact that your husband might be cheating on you—your body didn’t seem to want to obey your mind. Your feet felt glued to the floor, and your eyes were fixed on the hallway leading to the living room, where you’d been pacing for hours, waiting for him.

It only took a few seconds before you saw him step through the door. His shirt more wrinkled than when he left, his tie in disarray, his jacket hanging off one arm, and his face… his face looked so different from when he left the house.

The left eyebrow had a bandage crossing it from top to bottom, his left cheek was bruised, a dark blue mark that would probably swell by morning—or in a few hours—and his lip had a small cut on one corner.

You knew Yoongi sometimes got involved in dangerous things, but never, in the year and a half you’d been living together, had he come home looking like this.

The thought of infidelity quickly evaporated as you processed what you’d just seen. You rushed toward him, cupping his face in your hands, studying him more closely to see if there were any other injuries you’d missed the first time.

“Damn, Yoongi, what the hell happened to your face? You look terrible,” your voice came out higher than you intended, but you didn’t care. You ran your hands over the bruise on his cheek, making a face when you heard Yoongi hiss quietly. He never complained unless it really hurt. “Did you get into a fight with someone? No, wait, it’s obvious you got into a fight! Why the hell did you get into a fight with someone?”

You followed him as he walked away, confused, watching him fill a small glass with whiskey and drink it in one go.

“I’m not in the mood for your stupid questions, Y/N,” he murmured softly, sounding more tired than annoyed. That didn’t stop the pain that twisted in your chest when you heard him say that.

Yoongi never called you by your name. He always used the nickname “Sweetheart,” he said, just to annoy you. You’d gotten used to that stupid nickname that made your cheeks burn and short-circuited your brain. You’d forgotten that to him, this was nothing more than a stupid arrangement, with no emotions involved.

Yes, you were sad. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to hit yourself for being stupid enough to think that he actually felt something for you.

But between the sadness and the anger, anger was what won out in this moment.

“Stupid questions?” you murmured, clenching your fists at your sides, feeling the heat rising in your chest, making its way up to your face as your anger started to grow. All the emotions you’d felt in the last few hours were now flooding to the surface. “You think my questions are stupid?”

Yoongi turned to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly, confusion marking his features—the same features you’d once found so charming. Now you just wanted to punch him in the balls and scream at him for being a complete idiot.

“You think it’s stupid that I’m worried about you after not hearing from you for the past seven fucking hours?” You watched in silence as his eyes widened at your question. You’d never spoken to him like that before. Normally, it was him who acted like this—him who ignored you, who teased you, who lightly tapped your forehead with his finger. He was the one who got to be rough with you while you just took it because—damn it—you liked it. You liked his little games, his teasing, the cute nickname he had for you. You liked him, and that’s why you always acted shy.

Well, now that shyness could go to hell. Yoongi had crossed your line, and now you were going to cross his.

“Y/N—”

“No!” You shoved your index finger into his chest, using all your strength to push him back. Your breathing was erratic, your teeth clenched so tightly that your jaw ached. You wanted to grab that stupidly beautiful hair of his and yank it until he apologized for treating you this way. “Don’t you dare throw out some dumb excuse, don’t you dare say my name like it’s going to make whatever you say next carry more weight!”

You shoved him again, enjoying the control, at least for once in this entire messed-up relationship. He wasn’t the only one with a bad reputation before that damn wedding was even in the picture.

“You walked out on your job to go God knows where, you were gone for seven fucking hours with no word, sent three damn texts saying you'd be late, leaving me alone in this house, running through a million scenarios in my head of why you were so late, wondering if you were with some other woman while I sat here waiting for you, and you come home with a bruised face— and you still think my questions are ridiculous?” You grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer so you could see him better. Normally, you'd be nervous, maybe even thinking about kissing him... but now, the urge to slap him was a lot stronger.

“Are you serious? You’re the one who imagined all this shit, and somehow I’m the problem? It’s not my fucking fault you’re so insecure you think I’m gonna cheat on you with someone else! Damn, you’re not even my real wife, why the hell do you care who I sleep with?”

That comment dropped both of you into silence.

You let go of his shirt, not sure what to do with your hands now. Your lashes fluttered quickly, fighting back the tears you refused to let fall, not in front of him. Not after what he just said.

Even though, deep down, you knew he was right. He didn’t owe you any explanations. You were the one who got your hopes up, the one who thought there was something more. He had every right to be with whoever he wanted, and you… you couldn’t deny him that. After all, nowhere in the contract did it say anything about exclusivity.

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I didn’t— I didn’t mean that, okay? You know I didn’t?” He reached out to take your hand, but you flinched away, as if touching you burned. “I-I’m sorry, it was a stupid thing to say, it wasn’t thought through, it was just… just an impulse.”

You clutched the silk robe wrapped around you. It was the only thing stopping you from feeling the sting that came with trying to breathe. Why did you have to fall in love with Yoongi? What was it about him that made you risk everything, knowing it was going to end like this? You were angry with him, but more than that, you were furious with yourself for allowing him to hurt you. You knew the only one who would be left broken was you.

“No,” you whispered after a beat. Your gaze dropped to the floor, your shoulders slumped, and your hair shielded your face, hiding the tears that were threatening to spill. It was the perfect pose for a breakdown. You wanted to break down, “You’re right. It was stupid to care about you when we’re nothing.”

“No, wait, let me—” He cut himself off when he noticed a single drop of water hit the floor, and your shoulders started to tremble. You were crying. He had made you cry. He wanted to blame the idiot he fought with at the bar, wanted to blame the alcohol for making him act without thinking, wanted to blame anyone other than himself because he didn’t want to be the one who made you cry.

But he had.

He should have just answered your damn questions and been done with it, not gotten defensive.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, his hands gently resting on your shoulders, unsure if you were going to push him away again or lash out. But you did nothing. You let him pull you in and wrap you in his arms. It was awkward, you felt awkward, he felt awkward, but he needed to do this. He needed you to hear him so that at least you’d stop thinking he was out there with someone else.

Yoongi might be a complete jerk, but he would never, ever cheat on you.

“My brother came to my office just before I came home,” he said, his hand softly brushing through your hair, fingers threading through your strands as if to offer some kind of silent comfort. “He asked me to go for drinks at a bar nearby. I forgot to text you. I’m sorry.”

You stayed quiet for a few moments. You were still a bit tense under his embrace, but you let yourself wrap your arms weakly around his waist. It was your way of showing that, at least, you were listening, that you were open to hearing him out. Were you being stupid for trusting him? Probably. Did you care? Not really. You knew that hearing him out was a hit to your ego and dignity, but you still wanted to listen, wanted to hold on to whatever little hope was left inside you.

Being in love really did turn you into a mess.

“You were right. It’s my fault. I did things that made you think that way, and I know I shouldn’t have said that, but I just… I got so frustrated thinking that you actually believed I’d be with someone else, someone who wasn’t you.” He softly licked his lips, feeling them uncomfortably dry all of a sudden. At least now he’d cleared up the one thing that had been bothering him.

Now, all that was left was for you to believe him.

“Why does your face look like that?” you asked quietly, your face still hidden in his shoulder, your hands still on his waist, this time clutching the fabric of his shirt as if trying to push out the anger and pain building up inside you. Hearing him out and wanting to forgive him didn’t just erase your anger.

Yoongi was quiet for a moment, enough to think through his answer and not make the atmosphere any more tense than it already was.

“I got into a fight with some guy at the bar.” You could feel his hands tighten, his hold on you becoming stronger. It felt like he was trying to protect you from something, like remembering the fight only made him want to keep you closer.

And that only made you more confused.

“Why?” you asked, your voice calm as you waited for his answer. You wanted to understand why he’d gotten into a fight after all this time. You knew he used to get into fights when he was younger, but you thought that part of him was behind him now. After his dad left him in charge of the company, you believed he’d grown out of that. Now, you weren’t so sure.

“Because no one’s allowed to talk shit about my wife.” He buried his face in your neck, relaxing slightly as he breathed in the familiar scent of your perfume, that something that was uniquely you. The memories of the bar fight came rushing back—his anger flaring again as he recalled how one of his coworkers, a guy who’d been to several company parties with you two, had told his friend how badly he wanted to fuck you in a hotel room, how you had the face of someone who was easy, how you always smiled at him like you wanted something more.

He was out of his mind if he thought he was going to let that guy walk away without getting a beating. You deserved more than a sleazy hotel room that charged by the hour. You deserved respect—not because you were his girlfriend, but because you were a person, just like him, and far more respectable than the idiot he’d fought with. You deserved to be happy and to be kind to other men without them thinking you wanted something else.

Yoongi would fight that guy a thousand times over if it meant defending your image, because you deserved that and so much more.

And yet, here you were, still tied to someone like him, someone who couldn’t even express his feelings without saying something that hurt you in the process.

“You fought… for me?” You watched as Yoongi’s face, usually so pale, flushed a soft pink. His eyes darted around the room, anywhere but you.

It was the first time you’d ever seen him like this. The first time he’d shown you any real emotion when it came to you.

He was embarrassed because he’d just confessed he fought for you.

You both stayed quiet. You, watching him, feeling a heat rise in your chest, your hands starting to sweat, forcing you to rub them against your robe. Him, running a hand through his messy hair, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor, biting his lower lip.

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. You had a million questions running through your mind.

“Why did you do it?” You took a step closer to him, feeling a small ache in your chest when you saw him pull back slightly, almost instinctively. You were crossing a line, one he had set from the start of your relationship, an unspoken rule—he didn’t want you getting too close, didn’t want the emotions between you to grow any stronger. Didn’t want the attraction you both felt to turn into something bigger, more serious.

Your step didn't just cross a physical line—it crossed an emotional one too. And that set off every alarm inside Yoongi.

“Answer me,” you insisted, louder this time, your brows furrowed, fists clenched. You had respected his boundaries all this time, constantly convincing yourself this was one-sided—that your feelings were nothing more than something you'd imagined, something you should keep buried until the very end.

But now that you knew that wasn’t true, you weren’t about to stand back.

“Y/N, I—” Yoongi licked his lower lip, letting his head fall back. His hands—now with slightly reddened knuckles—covered his face like a child hiding from the world, as if that could magically make everything go away. “I don’t know why I did it, okay? It just… happened.”

“You’re lying!” you cut him off the second he finished. This time, you pushed him a little harder—just enough to make him step back. You could hear the shake in his voice, the uncertainty in his tone. You could see how his eyes dodged yours like they were poison.

You wanted him to tell you the truth. You needed to hear him say that you mattered to him as much as he mattered to you.

You wanted to hear him say he loved you, the same way you loved him.

“Shit, what do you want me to say? That is the truth!” Yoongi’s voice rose a little, but you didn’t care—not when he finally looked you in the eye after admitting he got into a fight. His clenched jaw and dark eyes might’ve scared someone else, might’ve made them back down.

But you knew him too well for that—unfortunately for him.

His glare, despite the anger, wavered constantly. You could see a flicker of insecurity there—and something else, emotions you knew better than anyone Yoongi didn’t want to feel. He fought tooth and nail to keep them buried. But you wanted to drag them out of him.

“Stop lying to yourself, Yoongi!” You tried to push him again, but his hands quickly grabbed your wrists, pulling you close until there were only inches between you.

Your breaths were ragged, tangled in the storm of emotions swirling between you. His grip on your wrists loosened, but his hands never left your skin. You watched as he ran his tongue over his lips, his intense gaze locked on you the whole time.

“Stop pushing me,” he whispered, holding the distance even though something deep inside him screamed to get away from you—that this would only make things worse, that he wouldn’t be able to control himself with you this close, with your skin burning against his palms, with the way he craved more and more.

But apparently, that voice wasn’t persuasive enough.

You didn’t say anything. You just stood there, feeling your heartbeat race so fast it thundered in your ears, feeling the heat rise from your toes to your ears, your stomach twisting uncomfortably from the sensation of his touch.

You wanted more of him. You wanted everything he could give you and more. You wanted to feel his lips on yours, his hands on your body, his nose against your neck, his voice in your ear.

And this was your chance to have it.

So you grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him down until his lips crashed into yours. Only then did you feel like you could breathe again.

You thought this would be the end of everything—that he’d take it as the final excuse to sign the damn divorce papers you were sure he’d wanted from day one. But no. He didn’t shove you away. He didn’t yell. He didn’t demand answers or accuse you of doing something reckless without his consent.

Instead, he cupped your cheeks, his tongue tracing your lower lip, turning your clumsy, desperate kiss into something wildly intense—a kiss that stopped being one-sided the moment he decided to kiss you back.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging whenever your body threatened to lose control. You could feel his desperation match yours, like you were both fighting a war with no winner, because in the end, you were both going to enjoy the outcome anyway.

His touch grew needier, more frantic, and you nearly gasped when you felt his cold fingers against your thighs, lifting you off the ground without bothering to break the kiss. He didn’t care if your teeth clashed or if you let out soft moans and gasps between breaths.

He’d gone months without touching you like this. Now that he could, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

You both got lost in the smell of each other, the touch, the way your hearts beat in sync—fast, unrestrained, chaotic. The kind of heartbeat that only happens when you've waited for something your whole life, and when it finally arrives, it exceeds your expectations so much that everything else just stops.

There was no one left to fool—because there was no one else in that room.

You moaned against his lips when his hand slid up your back, slipping under your nightgown, exposing more of your skin with every inch. You felt him smile against your neck as your body shivered from his touch.

“If I’d known you were this sensitive, I would’ve done this months ago,” he whispered against your skin, leaving light bites and marks along your neck. Something about the blank canvas of your skin bothered him—it made him want to cover it, to claim it, until it was unrecognizable.

To him, your skin was a blank canvas, and his lips were the brush to turn it into a masterpiece.

You gasped when he dropped you onto the bed, quickly settling between your legs. The pressure in your chest tightened as he hovered over you—lips swollen and shiny, tongue lazily brushing over them, his hair a mess from your hands, his dark eyes watching you like you were the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

And in this moment, you felt that beautiful—just from the way he was looking at you.

So intense. So suffocating.

It was exactly how you imagined it.

Even with both of you breathing heavily and your pulses racing, the intensity of the kiss had faded, leaving a silence thick with tension—tension that had been building between you from day one.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. That messy, heated passion from a moment ago was gone now, replaced with something quieter. “It’ll never be the same between us.” His hand gently caressed your waist under your nightgown—not in a lustful way, not to change your mind—just because he needed to feel you, to know this was real. “We’ll never be the same.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, gently tracing his features, your touch filled with quiet longing. You’d made your decision months ago. You’d been waiting for this longer than you cared to admit. You wanted to be his—and you wanted him to be yours. You wanted your marriage to stop being a contract between parents and start being something real. Something you both craved.

“I know,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closing the last bit of space between you. It was torturous having him this close, brushing lips but not quite kissing, feeling his breath mix with yours. It was painfully sweet. “But I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?” he let out a breathy laugh, his hands gently removing the robe from your shoulders. In his eyes, the same passion from moments ago was still there, steady and present. It reminded you that you had just kissed, that he was ready to take off his clothes and claim you, just as you were ready to claim him.

But there was more.

You could feel it in the way his touch was firm yet gentle, in the way his lips curved into a smile you’d never seen before—not like this, not while you were watching him. Whatever was happening between the two of you was more than just the pent-up desire of a contract marriage. Deep down, you both knew it.

“No,” you replied, your voice shaking more than you intended. His hands had already finished removing the robe, the only thing left between his touch and your skin being the nightgown you wore. “I want this, Yoongi. I want you.”

And that was enough to completely unravel him.

His lips crashed into yours again, kissing you with a sweet, addictive hunger. The movement of his hips against yours drew soft moans from both of you, urging you to go further, to strip away every last piece of clothing and make this moment last as little time as possible.

But neither of you wanted it to end quickly, even if your bodies demanded release.

Yoongi lifted the hem of your nightgown slowly, making you squirm in place. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your bare skin, a sharp contrast to the heat building in your chest. His gaze lingered on every exposed inch of you, taking you in as if he were savoring the view.

A moan escaped your lips as he straightened up, positioning himself between your legs, giving him a perfect view of your body—the way your thighs trembled, the way your lips parted slightly as you fought to hold still, trying not to show how much you needed him right then.

He flicked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his hands moving to his belt, unfastening it with deliberate slowness, only to toss it aside. There was no comparison between his fantasies and the reality of his touch, and his body knew it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes never left you as he tossed the belt into a corner of the room, his gaze hungry yet reverent, as though he was seeing you for the first time, letting go of the walls he’d built up until now. “And so... mine.”

He gripped your waist, pulling you toward him in one swift movement, his hips pressing against yours. A grin tugged at his lips as he felt the slight tremor in your legs and heard the soft squeak that escaped you.

He leaned in, nipping at your lower lip just enough to make you gasp.

“Why do you look so shy now?” he murmured against your mouth. “We both know how much you’re going to enjoy this.”

His hand slid down your back, cupping your ass shamelessly, squeezing hard before giving you a playful spank. The sound was dry, but the heat that spread across your skin was electrifying. You looked up at him, surprised, but his smile only widened as if he had won something.

“Why did you do that!?” you asked, your voice breathless.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t like how things were unfolding. You’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but this? This was beyond anything you had dreamed.

“I had to get you to open that pretty mouth of yours somehow,” he said, his thumb stroking the spot where he had just touched, but the tenderness lasted only a moment before he returned to squeezing your ass, making you squirm.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to kiss him, smack him, or beg him to never stop.

Maybe all three.

You were about to voice your frustration, to call him out for making this whole situation even more torturous than it already was. But then he started moving. This time, it wasn’t slow. He made you feel him, guiding your hips against his erection, his hands roaming over your curves as if he were memorizing every detail of you. His lips trailed down your neck, to your collarbone, leaving a mark you’d notice tomorrow.

“Tell me you want me again,” he said, his voice almost a command. “Do it trembling, like before.”

You hesitated, not because you didn’t feel it, but because your mind couldn’t form the words, couldn’t force your mouth to say what you knew was true. You weren’t sure if it was the touch of his body, the rawness in his eyes, or the fire in your veins, but you couldn’t speak. Your hands moved instead, trailing down to the waistband of his pants, awkwardly trying to push them off as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head.

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in you. “Words, baby. I want words,” he murmured, his voice laced with a teasing grin.

You stirred under him, feeling an electric current run through your body. You'd never been held like this, never had your hands been held like this, and you couldn't help but be grateful that you could experience this for the first time with Yoongi because, fuck, there was nothing more exciting than seeing his arm on you, seeing the veins in it mark as he applied force to yours, the way your heartbeat quickened and being aware that he could feel it, that he knew how nervous that gesture made you.

You licked your lips, your eyes fixed on his, expectant, alert, ready for anything he was willing to give you because that’s the level of madness you had reached, to that point you would stoop if it meant being able to feel him inside you.

“I want you,” you managed, your voice shaky but firm with the truth in every word.

You watched as his lips formed a lazy smile, one that seemed too sure of itself, too aware of the state you were in; he knew, if at this moment he asked you to get down on your knees, you would, all to have a little piece of him, and he definitely wanted to give you more than a little piece of him.

He undressed completely, never breaking eye contact. His hot body, his rapid breath, every part of him screamed there was no turning back.

He spread your legs, a deliberate, almost lazy motion, as if he enjoyed every second of seeing you surrender to him. He leaned down, planting soft kisses on your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses that made you arch against the sheets. He moved up slowly, brushing your skin with his nose, with his lips, with his teeth. You felt as if every part of you was being discovered for the first time.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this since we got married?” he asked, his voice raspy, that kind of voice you'd only been able to hear on the few mornings you'd seen him wake up, or on those nights counted on the fingers of one hand when he drank enough to fall half asleep in the car. “Ever since I saw you at the restaurant... I still remember that red dress you wore. It highlighted every curve, those heels making your legs look perfect. The way you held the glass to your lips and stared at me... like you were daring me, provoking me.” His hand slid between your thighs, stroking where you needed it most, slow at first, knowing full well the effect he was having on you.

“Yoongi—” you whispered, voice breaking as you arched against him, feeling the coolness of his fingers add a perfect contrast to the fire within you.

“Fuck,”his fingers pressed your clit harder, playing with it as if it didn't make your legs tremble and the knot in your belly tighten. “My name sounds so good when you say it like that.”

Your hands jerked under his grip, desperate to break free, to grab something to keep you sane, to keep you conscious, but all you managed to do was bury your nails in his wrist, scratching his skin every time he touched a too-sensitive nerve, biting your lips every time a too-loud moan threatened to come out.

You could feel with what little sanity you had left as his lips devoured your neck, as his tongue ran along your collarbone, letting out gasps of satisfaction at the taste of you, at the feel of your pulse against his tongue, fast, strong, steady.

The movement of his fingers became faster, more and more excruciating, and the tremors in your body became harder to bear. Your hips began to move against his touch, desperate to reach that wonderful point where you would finally achieve release.

The pressure of his fingers increased, the rhythm intensifying, and your body was on the edge. You moved against him, chasing the release you needed so badly.

And just when you thought you were about to reach it, when the tension in your stomach was about to snap… Yoongi stopped.

“What the-?” You choked on your own saliva as you watched him hold his member in the hand he had just masturbated you with. It was big. Really big. In your head you had imagined what it might look like, how well he would know how to use it, how deep he could go, but this? Fuck, this far exceeded your expectation.

Your body froze, every nerve alive with anticipation as you felt him align with you. His lips found yours in a soft kiss, a calm before the storm. And then you felt him enter you for the first time, slow, deep, so intimately that you felt yourself breaking into a thousand pieces.

A low moan escaped his throat, one that merged with yours in the dimly lit room. He moved slowly at first, exploring your reactions, gauging the rhythm with which your body responded to his. But when he heard you release his name between gasps, as if you needed it more than air, he lost all restraint. At last he released your hands from his grip, but only to move them to your hips, to hold your body steady every time he gave a thrust.

You took that very instant to bring your hands to his back, scratching at his skin, clinging to him, needing to feel his body as close to yours as possible to remind you that this was real, that this was not another dream -deliciously realistic.

You hit your head against the pillow as you felt his movements become more rhythmic, deeper, as his mouth traveled down your neck and shoulders, leaving traces of his presence as if he wanted to mark you from the inside and out. You knew that the next morning your body would have marks of him imbued on it, but you also knew that you had left yours on his, and that only made the sensation more exciting. Those marks were proof that this night really happened.

“Shit,” he murmured, his voice low, husky, choppy with pleasure. “That's it, baby. You're taking me so good.”

Your toes curled, and you had to take it all from yourself not to lose your mind right then and there. Your whole body seemed to be on edge, every lunge, every touch he gave to your most sensitive spot, made you completely lose your mind, made you want to grab his neck and kiss him until you ran out of air, until the skin on your lips swelled.

You wanted all this and more.

The room was filled with gasps, skin against skin, that urgency that is only born when desire has been held back too long. His hands gripped your hips as if he feared you would fade, as if clinging to you could make all of this even more real than it was.

Your back arched one last time, pleasure bursting from deep inside your body in a warm surge that made you scream his name without thinking. Your nails marked his back, your lips sought his almost desperately, as if you wanted that moment to be etched on your skin, on your soul.

And he fell with you.

His hips moved a couple more times, desperate, until his body shuddered over yours, leaving him breathless, speechless, spilling inside you with a broken sigh that sounded almost like a wail. Silence enveloped you for a few seconds

Your foreheads met, breath mingling, his heartbeat loud and fast against yours.

“Yoongi,” you whispered, your hands caressing the marks you had left on his skin, “I love you.”

And he smiled—a tired, content smile, as if he had never expected to hear it. As if, in that moment, he finally understood that everything he had avoided feeling... was already too far inside him. And it was. He didn't understand how, he didn't understand when, but he was so fucking lost for you that he would fight all the men in the world just to have you by his side.

“I know,” he murmured against your lips, keeping his eyes on yours all the time. He wanted you to feel his honesty, to know that every word that left his lips was true, even if he had never been able to prove it clearly. “Because I love you too.”

His lips barely brushed yours, with a tenderness almost fearful, as if by kissing you, he admitted that there was no turning back, as if that kiss was a thousand times more meaningful than what you had just done. And perhaps it was. Perhaps that kiss was what truly marked you, perhaps that 'I love you' you had just said was the real mark that officially turned the both of you into something more than just a signature on paper.

When the vertigo began to subside and the heat between you both turned into a memory, your mind began to fill with doubts. With words. With fear. The memories of everything you had said just moments ago replayed in your mind, serving as a reminder that neither of you were thinking clearly, that there was a possibility that everything you had said was simply an instinct driven by the passion of the moment.

And that was destroying you inside.

With a lump in your throat, you asked the same question Yoongi had asked you moments ago; this time, both of you were lucid, this time neither of you were desperate to undress the other, this time you weren’t sure if your heart could handle the rejection after everything that had happened.

"This doesn't change anything, does it?" you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of reality. "In a few hours, when you wake up, will things be the same as before?"

His hand stopped at your waist, his fingers tightening slightly at your question, and that only made your fears grow more real. Yoongi could say he loved you, but there was a big difference between admitting what he felt for you and letting you fully into his life, and that last part? That was exactly what you feared you might never reach.

But then he straightened up, looking at you with his brow slightly furrowed and his head tilted to one side, as if he had just heard the biggest nonsense in the world.

"I thought we made it clear that nothing would be the same after tonight," he murmured, resuming his gentle caresses on your waist. You could see his hair falling over his face, some strands sticking to his forehead and others tickling your face; you weren’t sure if it was that that made him look even more attractive or the fact that he calmed your fear with just one sentence.

"Yes, I know, but—" you stopped when you felt his index finger rest on your lips, his eyebrow raising as a smug smile appeared on his face. Now it was you who frowned.

"Sweetheart. You're tired. Go to sleep." he whispered, gently adjusting you on the bed, covering both of your bodies under the warm sheets of your shared bed. This time, the smile he gave you was softer, a little more sincere. "I'll still be here in the morning."

You both stayed quiet, the kind of silence that feels comfortable, that brings calm—the kind that lets you know what the other is thinking just by looking at them. Closing your eyes and thinking you might not see him when you woke up… it scared you. But the idea of trusting him, of truly seeing him next to you the next day, was so… exciting.

For the first time in your life, that excitement was stronger than the fear of all the “what ifs.”

So you slept. Finally. You trusted his words and let the fear slowly fade away, second by second, as your eyes grew heavier and sleep became harder to resist.

And yet, when you opened your eyes, the space beside you was empty.

Not cold. Just… without him.

For a moment, the knot returned to your throat, along with last night’s question. You began to wonder how you would ever look him in the eye again, how you could go back to talking to him like nothing had happened.

But then you heard footsteps. Soft, but steady—each step sounding louder than the last, as if someone was getting closer to you.

And then you saw him walk in.

His hair was still messy, his face still looked a little sleepy. The only difference from the night before was that he had thrown on a pair of sweatpants. That, and the cup of coffee he was holding in one hand.

He sat down on his side of the bed, as if you weren’t sitting there watching him with your mouth hanging open and your eyes nearly popping out of your face.

He set the mug on his nightstand and turned to you, using two fingers to gently push up your chin and close your mouth.

“I thought you—”

“I know,” he murmured, using his hold on your chin to bring your face closer to his. He only stopped when you were leaning into him, your faces just a few centimeters apart. “Your eyes have always been really expressive.” Then he raised his lips to your forehead, leaving a soft kiss there before continuing. “Tough luck, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me for life now.”

Masterlist.

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #fanfic #fiction

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing in the rain ; requested by @wandixx!

He hadn’t been expecting the Signal to chase after him. It is, after all, well after midnight, and he had seen the vigilante out earlier during the day.

Maybe the Bats are understaffed tonight, he muses as he leaps over the rooftops, a wild grin on his face. Being on the other side of a chase is a lot of fun, he’s discovering. He can see why Selina enjoys it so much.

Though, it probably has to do more with who’s chasing her than it is the chase itself.

But Danny’s become a bit of an adrenaline junkie after a few years of being a hero, fighting ghosts and governments. He’s not a hero anymore, especially not in Gotham, but being Catwoman’s partner in crime is way more fun than being responsible for everyone’s safety.

It’s like he’s doing anything bad, either. Selina can steal whatever she wants; if they couldn’t protect things against her, then should they really have it? Danny doesn’t focus on jewelry or gems. No, he takes ghost artifacts or items contaminated with ectoplasm back to the realms where they won’t cause problems to any humans. There are enough ecto-contaminated people in this world, solely from Amity Park. Best not to let that number grow.

So here he is, leaping over rain-slicked rooftops and only using a little bit of flying to keep ahead, holding a cursed pocket watch that a ghost had requested he return to them, with the Signal chasing after him, disappearing into shadows and popping up unexpectedly.

“Stray! Get back here!” Signal yells, and Danny takes a moment to spin on his heel to face the vigilante to stick his tongue out at him, then backflips away.

“I didn’t even steal anything important!” he returns, tossing the pocketwatch in the air ahead, then jumps up to catch it and scales his way up to the roof of the next building.

“Seriously,” Signal says, suddenly in front of him. “Stop running and we can talk this out.”

“Woah!” Danny tries to get around him, trips over his own feet, and crashes into the Signal’s chest.

“Careful, there.” He looks up to see the Signal’s smile, and he absolutely can not be blamed for having his half dead heart skip a beat. He’s in the arms of a hero who’s smiling at him so sweetly, what’s a guy to do? “Ready to talk now?”

Danny goes intangible for a moment, smoothly sliding out of the Signa’s grip. “Nope,” he grins, starting up the chase once again.

The rain isn’t very strong, and the drops feel cool against his face as he runs, getting a little more air with each jump as he uses more of his flight to keep ahead. He can hear the Signal chasing after him again, heavy footsteps that start and stop unpredictably as he travels between shadows.

Just to be safe, Danny stashes the pocket watch inside his chest, leaving his hands free to grab onto the rough brick of the walls and scale them up, aiming to go higher and higher. Maybe if he finds a good building, he can dramatically fall off the edge and fly away invisibly.

“Got you!”

The Signal pops up out of the wall and grabs Danny, who yelps and tries to pull his arms away. The Signal is too strong, and his tight grip on Danny’s wrists is warm against the chill of the rain.

They stand there for a moment, just staring at each other as they try to catch their breath. And then, “Is that any way to treat a guy?” Danny jokes, trying one last time to pull his wrists free.

“It is when it’s you,” the Signal replies. “Man, you sure know how to run.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume for my next heist.”

“Seriously, can we talk?”

Danny eyes him curiously. The other Bats mostly tried to take back whatever it is he’d stolen that night, occasionally trying to get information from him. None of them had outright asked to have a chat with him. The Signal at least has some manners, compared to the rest of him. There’s no harm in sticking around for one conversation.

It helps that the Signal is cute, especially when he had saved Danny a few weeks ago.

Sue him, he’s a bit soft on the Signal. Wouldn’t anyone be with their favorite hero?

“Alright,” Danny says, relaxing. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Great! Okay, um.” The Signal bites his lip and Danny should really look away, but his eyes are fixed to his mouth. He doesn’t speak for a solid minute, during which Danny really begins to feel the chill of the rain. “Can I get less comments from the peanut gallery?” he says suddenly.

“What?” Danny laughs, confused.

The Signal sighs. “My comms are on. The others are being annoying. If they wanted to ask you questions, they should have caught you first.”

“Oh, protecting me from the big bad Bats? My hero,” Danny says sweetly, pretending to swoon. Except, the Signal follows his movements, releasing his wrists to catch him by the waist, holding him steady. Danny’s breath hitches, and from how close they are, he has no doubt that the Signal heard it. They freeze for a moment, then the Signal dips him like some fainting Victorian maiden.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind sweeping you up in my arms.” The smirk on his face only lasts a moment before he grimace and says, “I shouldn’t have said that on open comms. Man, they’re annoying. It’s not my fault I know how to flirt.”

Danny…

Well. Danny short circuits for a moment, running the words over his mind again, then blushes so hard he’s sure there’s steam coming off his cheeks. “You’re flirting?” he squeaks. “With me?”

“Flirting,” a new voice confirms, making them both jump, stumbling against each other as Black Bat hops down onto their rooftop. “Both shy and silly. I’m better.”

“You can’t even ask out Spoiler,” the Signal retaliates.

“She can’t even WHAT?” Spoiler yells as she also vaults herself over the alley below to join them. “You want to ask me out?”

Though she doesn’t say anything, Danny can practically feel Black Bat’s glare through her mask. The Signal winces, then says, “Oops.”

“Man, you can keep yourself busy, clearly Sig doesn’t need backup,” Spoiler says. “I need to go on a date with Black Bat. The rest of you suckers are on your own!” And then she grabs Black Bat’s hand and grapples away.

There’s a beat of silence, then Danny and the Signal share a glance and start laughing.

“Well,” Danny says, “Good for them! Good for them.”

“They’re probably just going to Bat Burger.”

“And are you going to be treating me to a burger any time soon? I should be compensated for this conversation, you know.”

“Please, if I was taking you out on a date, it wouldn’t be to Bat Burger. I’d take you out dancing.”

It sounds like a date his dad would take his mom on. It sounds nice. Danny smiles and leans in closer to the Signal, taking hold of one of his hands. With the other, he puts Signal’s hand on his waist, then brings his own up to the Signal’s shoulder.

“Why not dance with me now?”

Danny leads them in a few clumsy turns of a waltz, silently thanking Sam for forcing him to take a few ballroom dance lessons with her. The Signal seems a little dazed, following his lead, and when he lightly squeezes Danny’s waist, he shivers.

Catwoman should be done with Batman soon. They had agreed to meet up at the newly opened Vintage Boutique in Diamond District, and he intends to beat her there.

Reluctantly, Danny pulls away from the Signal with one final spin, and hops up onto the edge of the roof. “If you can find me during the day,” he says, “Then I’ll dance with you again. See you around, Signal!”

And with that, Danny hops backwards off the roof, free-falling towards the ground before he lets gravity lose hold of him and slips into invisibility, flying up just as the Signal peers over the edge, searching for him.

Unable to help himself, Danny floats closer until he can give the Signal a quick kiss on the cheek, then flies off, grinning wildly.

He certainly can’t wait to see the Signal again.

Maybe if he hired a few guys to pretend to rough him up while Signal’s out patrolling…

Well, either way, this cat is already half dead so he can jump straight to satisfaction bringing him back. And, hopefully, back into Signal’s arms again when they won’t be interrupted by other Bats.

He’s already looking forward to it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #stray!danny #first time writing stray danny but i love him :) i think selina can make him worse :)#duke really worked overtime just to have a chance to flirt w danny #he heard that stray and catwoman would be out that night and suited up immediately like. dont worry guys i got stray :) yall can go now :)#thank you for the prompt!!#prompt fill #my writing

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nephalem-da · 7 months ago

Note

Hiiii the request you wrote (sarcastically yours) was so cute and I really loved the gender neutral non description of the reader like somebody else pointed out in the comments too.

I have another idea/request if you happen to be up for it.

Bill x gn!reader who is touch starved and had a terrible week. When Bill pops up to cause trouble they just snag him from mid air and trap him a hug as they lay down to cuddle him if he wanted to or not.

Over all mood can be kind of reader being tired and not taking shit or giving any fucks while he quirms in their hold, complaining and threatening them dramatically because how dare they just cuddle him? And why does he feel strangely cozy?

Anyway, thanks again for bringing the first request to life <3

Have a lovely day!!!

Caught In A Hug

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Enjoy!

Genre: Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Emotional exhaustion, Bill's chaotic behavior (mentions of bugs, fire, etc.), Light angst, fluffy ending.

Summary: After a rough week, you're too tired to deal with Bill Cipher's antics. When he appears, you pull him into an unexpected cuddle, ignoring his dramatic protests.

After an exhausting week, all you wanted was some peace, but of course, Bill Cipher had other plans. The chaotic dream demon had been popping in unannounced, causing trouble like always. But tonight, you were done. When he appeared mid-air, ready to start his usual antics, you didn’t hesitate. Reaching up, you snagged him from the air, pulling him into a firm embrace as you collapsed onto the couch.

“What the—HEY! What do you think you’re doing?” Bill’s voice was loud, his single eye widening in surprise as he flailed in your arms. “Let go of me, fleshbag! I’m the all-powerful Bill Cipher! You think you can just—HEY!”

You ignored his dramatic outburst, too tired to care about the dream demon's protests. Your arms tightened around his floating form as you sighed, settling deeper into the cushions. “Not today, Bill. I’ve had a really crappy week, and I just need this. You can complain all you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”

His yellow, triangular body squirmed against you, and his eye darted around, probably plotting some chaotic retaliation. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this! I’ll make bugs crawl out of your cereal! I’ll—ACK! Hey, are you even listening?!”

“Nope,” you muttered, eyes already half-closed as you buried your face into his smooth form, not bothering to think about how weird it was to be cuddling a literal demon triangle. “You’re warm. Kinda cozy too.”

Bill sputtered. “Cozy? ME? You’ve got some nerve! I’m a nightmare, a terror, an all-knowing force of the universe! And you—you—let go right now, or I’ll—” His threats trailed off as you shifted slightly, adjusting your grip to pull him closer.

He wriggled, floating slightly above you but still locked tight in your hug. “You really have no idea who you’re messing with, do ya? This is gonna end badly for you, I swear—Hey, stop nuzzling me! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Bill,” you grumbled, barely opening your eyes. “I’m too tired for your drama. Just… be quiet for a bit. I’m not letting go.”

There was a pause. You felt him stiffen, probably trying to figure out how to react to the situation. You couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed, confused, or horrified that you dared to trap him in such a mundane, human gesture.

“This is so beneath me,” he grumbled under his breath, though his voice had lost some of its earlier venom. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Normally, I’d make you regret this for eternity.”

You snorted softly, tightening your hold slightly. “Sure, Bill. Whatever you say.”

The room was quiet for a while after that. You could still feel Bill’s occasional squirm as if he couldn’t decide whether to break free or not. His eye darted around, and you could tell he was struggling with the situation—partly because it was so mundane, and partly because… well, he wasn’t used to this. Who would hug a literal chaotic being?

Bill’s grumbling gradually faded into silence, and you felt him settle in your arms. Despite his earlier protests, he wasn’t putting in much effort to escape anymore. It was almost as if he was… relaxing?

You could feel his energy pulsing slightly against you, warm and oddly comforting. It was bizarre, really—cuddling Bill Cipher of all beings. But right now, with how drained you felt from the week, it was exactly what you needed.

A while passed before Bill spoke again, his tone a little quieter and far less aggressive than before. “This doesn’t mean anything, got it? Don’t go thinking I’ve gone soft or anything.”

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, too close to sleep to argue. “Sure.”

“And I’m only letting this happen because you’re clearly too weak to handle my usual brilliance,” he continued, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “But just wait. I’ll make you regret it. I’ll turn all your furniture upside down, make your mirrors talk back—maybe even—”

You interrupted him by shifting slightly, pulling him even closer. Bill went silent, his body tense in your arms again as if he wasn’t sure how to react. After a few beats, he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

Despite his words, Bill didn’t move. In fact, he moved a bit closer, his usual chaotic energy now strangely subdued. For someone who thrived on chaos and destruction, being held like this clearly wasn’t something he understood—or was used to. And yet, he didn’t pull away.

The longer the silence stretched, the more you noticed a subtle shift in Bill’s attitude. His squirming had stopped, and while he still made the occasional sarcastic comment, his usual snark had softened into something more… tentative.

“Alright, fine,” he muttered at last. “But don’t think this is a regular thing. This is a one-time deal, got it? You try this again, and I’ll—”

“Mmhm,” you repeated, your voice sleepy. “Whatever you say, Bill.”

Bill grumbled something unintelligible, but his protests were far less forceful now. His body felt warm and secure in your arms, and despite all his complaints, he hadn’t made any real effort to escape.

As your breathing slowed, you couldn’t help but notice a strange, unfamiliar comfort in his presence. Bill Cipher, the all-powerful, terrifying demon, was somehow… calming? Cozy, even.

And though he’d never admit it, you had a feeling he didn’t hate this as much as he was pretending to.

“You’re still going to regret this,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now, almost tired.

“Sure, Bill,” you whispered, finally drifting off to sleep, still holding him close. “Whatever you say.”

And for once, Bill Cipher didn’t argue back.

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls #the book of bill #bill cipher #fluff #mutual pining #touch starved #tired

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ladykissingfish · 1 year ago

Text

*in the Akatsuki kitchen*

Sasori, standing next to Deidara at the counter: Okay, now, measure a cup and a half of the flour and pour it into the bowl.

Deidara: Danna … tell me again why we’re doing this? I mean, it’s MY birthday, right? Couldn’t you and Konan have made me this and surprised me, instead of you having me help make my own cake?

Sasori: I could have, yes, but then it wouldn’t mean as much.

Deidara: Eh?

Sasori: *takes the bowl from Deidara and starts stirring the ingredients together* When I was a boy, every year on my birthday, I’d help my mother make my cake. Neither of us were very good bakers, and what we created usually turned out more messy than good, but … it was the time together that mattered, you know? The laughing and the flour in our hair and licking the icing from the bowl.

Sasori, setting the bowl down and readying the cake pan: When mother and father died, so did any celebration of my birthday. And mind you, even as a full organic human, I was never much a fan of sweets. But I still missed the ritual, and the time we had. So I always vowed that if and when I ever had a family of my own, I’d carry on the tradition.

Deidara, quietly putting the cake pan in the oven: So … you’re saying you consider me … family?

Sasori: *lifts Deidara to the counter, sitting him in front of where Sasori is standing* I think you’re my soulmate, Dei. The one created in the stars for me. A gift, maybe, sent from my parents in heaven. But words are just words, aren’t they, until solid action is taken. So …

Sasori: *pulls a small velvet box from his pocket and opens it, revealing a sleek gold ring studded with diamonds and a single large emerald*

Sasori: I love you more than I could possibly tell you. Will you give me the honor of becoming my husband?

Deidara:

Deidara: *starts to cry* S-seriously? You mean it?

Sasori: I mean it. I want you now, I want you tomorrow, I want you forever. Please?

Deidara: *puts his arms around Sasori’s shoulders and hugs him tightly* Y-yes! Of course I’ll marry you, hm!

*the two share a kiss, and Sasori slides Deidara’s new ring onto his finger*

Sasori: You know … *gestures to the oven* We could easily make this cake a wedding cake if you wanted to get Nagato to marry us tonight …

Deidara: *laughs* Nice try, Sasori, but our wedding is going to be a week-long celebration and extravagant affair, hm!

Sasori: … It is?

Deidara: Of course! Fireworks, me exploding a different village every night leading up to the big day, a huge feast, oh and I need Konan’s help because I want us both to wear matching robes with real crystals sewn into the cloth.

Deidara: *jumps down from the counter* This is going to be so much fun! I’m gonna go talk to Konan now; watch that cake, will you? *runs out*

Sasori:

Sasori: *slowly pulls his wallet from his pocket and opens it to reveal just a few small bills*

Kakuzu, from the other room: And after you spent so much on his ring? Tsk. My deepest condolences and prayers are with you, Puppet.

Sasori:

#sasodei #sasori x deidara #sasori #deidara #naruto #the akatsuki #kakuzu #HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEIDARA!!!#my short king #RIP Sasori’s pocketbook

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sweaterrat · 2 years ago

Text

Portals Plus ✦ PROMISE

════════⊹⊱≼ ✦ ✧ ≽⊰⊹════════

Silence drifted around the resistance camp like a noiseless fog, thick with tension and grief. Winter was nearing which only made it worse for everyone. Winter in the apocalypse was frigid and unforgiving, especially way up north where they were. Right now, everyone was getting a preview of the harsh storms to come.

Being underground helped a little bit. It was warmer here and much safer versus the freezing, kraang-ridden world on the outside. Niyah sighed as she felt herself sink into the well worn out couch she laid on. Her eyes glazed over the half of dozens of kids on a mat, all huddled together under a thick blanket. Niyah had the privilege to look after these bundles of energy while their parents were out fighting a losing battle against the kraang.

Niyah’s expression fell into a meager frown as she watched over the children. Her heart broke for the children who no longer had parents. Their parents had passed while fighting the war. They were all far too young to be forced to go through something like this.

A sigh heaved from Niyah’s lungs; the kids weren’t the only ones who lost loved ones. It’s been a few days since Raph passed away. It’s been affecting everyone, even the kids! But of course, It hurt his brothers the most. Leo has been MIA, spirits know where the hell he’s been, and Kat had to step up as leader for a while (being his second in command, it was kind of her job to do so). Mikey was helping Kat take care of everything and everyone but there was an obvious lack of energy in his step. He wasn’t as bubbly as he was but he hid it well. And then there was Donnie. He had been shut up in his lab for the better half of a week.

The door to his lab was always locked and rarely opened. Niyah has never seen it open but sometimes she leaves food out for him and when she comes back, the whole plate is gone. She suspects that Donnie opens the door to take it but then again, anything could’ve taken it. She worried if Donnie had been eating at all. She had begged him to come out or at least let her come in, but she was always met with silence.

She couldn’t blame him— he was grieving just like the rest of them. Niyah only wished that she could see him and help him. He didn’t always have to do things alone (and frankly, she was feeling a bit lonely without seeing him).

With a small groan, Niyah sat up and stretched, finally getting off the couch and started walking to the food court. It was about time Donnie should eat.

As she entered the cafeteria, she was greeted by Baron Draxum. When Draxum wasn’t a warring warrior scientist, he was (once again) just the lunch lady. With the help of Daxum’s leftover mutagen, he could mutate fruits and vegetables into way bigger versions of themselves, helping to feed the hundreds of people who joined the resistance. Thank the stars, the food was still edible and Mikey sometimes helped out in the kitchen (Donnie was tasked with growing all the mutated crops because of his not-so-secret love for botany). Things were looking pretty good food wise.

“Greetings, human. Finally coming to eat?” Draxum was behind a counter, already preparing a plate of tonight’s dinner. It was baked potatoes!

“Hey, Drax,” Niyah greeted. “Nah, I’m just getting Donnie his fill.” She feigned a smile as she leaned against the counter Draxum was at.

The other slightly frowned. “You have to eat too, you know.” He grumbled, placing baked potatoes on a plastic plate.

“I know, I know. Not hungry, though, I’ll be fine.” Niyah halfheartedly chuckled, “It’s not like I do much around here anyways. Everyone else is fighting for a meal and I’m just… doing nothing.” Her eyes were downcast, feeling guilt twinge in her soul. She could’ve been doing so much more than babysitting, she thought. Don’t get her wrong, she loved hanging out with the kiddos, but she could be doing things actually useful.

“Don’t act as if you don’t help around a lot. You do so much more than you realize.” He reassured while handing her two plates of baked potatoes.

“Draxum,” She sighed, “I said I’m not—”

“I know what you said, I’m not deaf.” He grunted, going to the back to do whatever he was doing. “Now, go eat.”

Draxum may seem big and scary, but deep deep deep down, he’s a pretty great guy. Niyah smiled a little while rolling her eyes. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Drax.”

He only hummed in response, “Just make sure that boy takes care of himself too. You know how he can be when he gets upset. Losing someone you care about is not easy.” Niyah’s smile dropped and she nodded almost robotically.

“I’m off,” she said, waving goodbye to him. He returned the wave halfheartedly and went back to cleaning up.

Niyah treaded down the quiet halls. Most people would be asleep right now after dinner. It was pretty late out anyway (she thinks. It’s hard to tell time underground), but Donnie would definitely be awake. He always was for the past few times she’s brought him food.

Niyah approached the door to Donnie’s lab, slightly hesitating before giving it a knock. “Hey Don, I got you food.” She spoke somewhat hopefully, but, like usual, he didn’t respond. She sighed, “Can you knock to let me know you’re here?”

A moment or two later, Niyah heard shuffling on the other side of the door. First, the screech of a chair against the floor, something beeping then shutting off, soft footsteps… two soft knocks sounded from the inside. Niyah smiled, he’s here.

“I’m gonna leave it out here, okay? In the front.” She placed one of the plates of baked potatoes in front of the door. Usually, she’d leave after dropping his food off, but something told her to stay.

A minute later, the lab door creaked open just a smidge. Niyah’s eyes instantly darted to the opened part of the doorway, freezing in place when she made eye contact with…

“Donnie.” She sucked in a breath, staring at nothing but his eye (the other was hidden by the door). He looked just as shocked to see her. For a second, they just stood there, staring, but Donnie snapped out of it and snatched the plate of food.

Niyah flinched at the sudden movement but blinked and shouted “Wait!” But she was too late. The door quickly shut, leaving her stunned. She tried putting an ear to the door to hear something— anything, but it was silent. Niyah frowned and let out a heavy sigh. She’s not gonna lie, she’s missed Donnie a lot. He started sleeping in the lab (if he’s even been sleeping at all) rather than the usual room they shared. It was harder to fall asleep without him there and it was a lot colder as well.

She didn’t want to be a bother to Donnie, but damn, did she miss him. She missed their ‘Good morning’s and their ‘Good night’s, she missed sharing meals together or just being in each other's company, she missed how he’d call her stunning and how she’d get to call him beautiful every day. She missed their hugs and their kisses, she missed their cuddling when it got cold and her dragging him to bed when he was so obviously tired.

Damn, did she miss him. Niyah wondered if that was what Donnie was feeling about Raph— missing everything they did together.

She sighed, pressing her back against the door and sliding to the floor. Sure, it’s only been four days, but it felt like it’d been four years. Donnie was a big part of her daily routine and most of her day involved him. But now that he wasn’t here, her day was suddenly empty. Niyah squeezed her eyes shut at the familiar stinging in her nose. She cried way too easily.

It was a silent cry, something rare for her. Maybe she just didn’t want to be heard or she was embarrassed for crying like this in front of a door that she couldn’t open. She still did that annoying hiccup-gasp-sob-thing that she hated doing. All she could really do was scream internally into a noiseless void where no one else but she could hear.

She tried to tell herself that she was acting like a child. Everyone else was going through something much worse than her and here she was crying on the floor. With that thought, she quickly wiped her tears away.

‘Stop crying, damn it,’ Niyah repeated in her head until her body obeyed. She took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself and wiped the already drying tears from her eyes. She just sat there with that extra plate of baked potatoes in her hands, deciding that she might as well eat them so they wouldn’t go to waste (even though she wasn’t hungry).

This was the closest she’d get to eating next to Donnie again, so she enjoyed what little she had. Pressing her back impossibly closer to the door, Niyah pretended (hoped) that Donnie was just on the other side doing the same.

Niyah perked up at the soft shuffling on the other side of the door. It was closer than she had thought. Like earlier, two soft knocks sounded from inside. He wanted to know if she was there. Niyah nearly cried again. She debated whether she’d knock or not (what if she didn’t knock and he’d open the door again?) but she decided to be honest and gave two soft knocks back.

She smiled. At least he was here.

Suddenly the door creaked open— Niyah nearly fell back, but she caught herself last minute.

“Donnie…?” she called, but was once again met with silence. Cautiously, she stood up, leaving the empty plate of potatoes on the floor (for someone so un-hungry, she sure did tear up that plate). She put her fingertips to the door, unsure of whether to enter or not, but she took a deep breath, pushed it open and quickly closed it behind her.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Her eyes surveyed the dark room, spotting messy piles of blueprints and books littered around. A jungle of scrap metal was scattered across the room. She noticed the walls had scratch marks and cracks that definitely weren’t there before. In the corner of the room, she spotted an empty plate of baked potatoes. Well, at least he ate.

Niyah’s eyes landed on a disheveled Donatello who was sitting at his desk. He didn’t acknowledge her but he definitely knew she was there.

“Donnie?” Niyah echoed, taking a few slow steps forward, unsure if she should be close to him or give him space. Donnie blinked tiredly and turned his head to her, his eyes flitting across her face. All the staring was making Niyah a bit flustered.

When he saw her fidgeting, he smiled and signed a slow ‘Hey.’

Niyah smiled widely. He was talking to her (well, signing, but she’ll take what she can get)! “Hey,” she copied and walked closer to sit in the chair next to him. “Are you doing okay?” She asked, subconsciously signing the words she was saying.

His little smile faded. He hesitated, lifting his hands like he was going to sign, but he never did. He only sighed through his nose and placed his hands on the desk again. Niyah stared at him, head tilted and brows drawn together in worry. Instinctively, her hand moved to hover over his. “May I?”

He looked over to her, his gaze flickering between her hand and her eyes. Eventually, he nodded bashfully.

Niyah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and let her hand rest on top of his. Donnie’s hand was cold, it always was, but not like the harsh cold of winter. It was a refreshing kind of cold and it almost felt nostalgic to Niyah. She let the warmth of her hand seep into his as she watched him relax with a soft sigh. Slowly, he turned over his hand and let her palm touch his. They were calloused and firm, good for holding.

Niyah couldn’t help but feel giddy at the feeling. She was always giddy when it came to Donnie, no matter how long they’d been together. Everything they did felt like it was the first time again, from cuddling to kissing to holding hands. That spark was always there and Niyah admired it. A nervous smile made its way onto her face and the breathy laugh she let out caught Donnie’s attention.

He smiled warmly at her (spirits above, his smile was so beautiful) and moved his hand up her arm, to her shoulder, and finally let it rest on her cheek. Niyah leaned into his touch like she always did. She was so, so happy to see him again.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her eyes falling closed as Donnie cradled her face and let his thumb glide over her cheek softly. He exhaled and brushed a loc behind her ear affectionately as if he was saying ‘I know’.

“Why haven’t you talked to me all this time?” She suddenly asked. She felt Donnie’s fingers twitch anxiously. She opened her eyes to look up at him, a desperate tone in her voice, “Why are you trying to go through this alone?”

Donnie stayed silent, his eyes darting to the floor to avoid her persistent gaze. With a sigh, she whispered, “You’re not the only one who lost Raph, y’know.” This made him flinch and look up again. “We all did. We’re all sad and grieving, Donnie. Of course, not as heavily as you are, but you can’t just— you can’t push everyone away.”

She searched his light brown eyes desperately, feeling the sting in her nose again, but she ignored it. “Mikey and Leo need their brother right now. And I need my…” she trailed off. She had nearly called Donnie her husband even though they weren’t married. But it felt wrong to call him her boyfriend— they were so much more than just that. They practically were married but the title never stood anywhere. Niyah internally shook her head— why did that matter right now?!

“I-I need you too,” she stammered out, not knowing what else to say. Donnie just sat unmoving. Niyah searched his eyes for something— anything! Niyah had become better at reading Donnie’s expressions over the years. It was difficult at first (and sometimes it still is) but she caught onto all his tics and habits that determined his mood. Right now, however, Donnie was blank. He just slowly (and almost reluctantly) let his hand fall from her face. He no longer looked at her. Niyah nearly cried at that.

“Can you please say something? Or sign?” She pleaded but Donnie never responded or even looked her in the eye. She just wanted to help him in any way she could— it was what she was good at! Helping people was her thing! So why couldn’t she do it now? For a moment, she wondered if her being here wasn’t helping at all.

“Donnie,” she sighed, cupping his face with her left hand which made him let out a shaky breath and look up at her. “I’m here. And I’ll always be here when you need me. I love you and I want to help you, so please, just let me.” She pondered for a second and pulled her hand away, “Unless you want me to go?”

A look of alarm flashed in his eyes and he quickly grabbed her hands. “Stay,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. Niyah’s eyes widened a bit at his voice— hell, even Donnie looked surprised. He sounded like he was in pain, she knew he was, and it hurt seeing him like this. “Please?”

Well, she couldn’t say no to that. “Okay,” she whispered back. Donnie held her hands firmly as if she’d run away if he didn’t hold her tight enough. Swiftly, he pulled her into a hug.

Donnie initiating things like this wasn’t rare but it was uncommon even though they’d been together for years now. Hugging in this position was a bit awkward while they were both sitting down. Donnie acknowledged this and effortlessly picked Niyah up and placed her down on his lap where he could hug her tighter.

Niyah giggled as he nestled into the crook of her neck (he knew that it was ticklish to her). His arms were wrapped around her waist comfortably and he felt like putty in her hold; completely and utterly vulnerable.

She petted his head soothingly, trying her best to comfort him. “You’re okay, Don. You’re gonna be okay,” she muttered to him. He stayed like that for a long time, taking long inhales and quivering exhales. Niyah couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. She’s only known Raph for a few years, but Donnie’s known him all his life. Sure, Niyah has lost family members before, but she was never close to her family like that. She couldn’t even begin to comfort him because she’d never been in a situation like that before.

Niyah then wondered what it’d be like if she had lost her own brother who was safe in her original universe. She wondered if her brother was feeling like how Donnie was feeling, like he had suddenly lost a sibling. God, it’s been years since she last saw her family.

“There’s just… so much going on.” Donnie let out a shaky breath. It sounded like he desperately needed to cry. He held her tightly, refusing to let go as if she’d vanish if he did.

“I know, love, I know.” Niyah continued to snuggle into him. His breathing was heavy and ragged, he sounded strained like he was holding something back. Niyah frowned.

“You can cry if you need to, Donnie. It’s okay.”

And with that, he finally let all his walls down. He sobbed in her hold, hugging her tighter and tighter. It was a little hard to breathe, but that was okay. Niyah’s heart broke at the sound of his sobs. At times like these, she honestly didn’t know what to do.

Donnie doesn’t cry often (at least not in front of her) so when he did cry, it was devastating to her. He was usually a silent crier, just letting tears roll down his face while keeping his expression fairly neutral, so seeing him sob like this hit so much harder. Niyah pressed a small kiss to the side of his head, whispering over and over “It’s okay.”

When Donnie calmed down a bit, Niyah pulled away from the hug, but just enough to see him. She held his face in her hands and finally got a good look at him. His caramel eyes were glossy with tears. With her thumbs, Niyah hooked the bottom of his mask and gently lifted it up and off his face, revealing his beautiful, purple markings and his tired eyes. She wiped under his eyes as if to wipe the dark circles away.

“I miss him.” His eyes flashed with an emotion so deep that even Niyah couldn’t understand what it was. It looked like he was whirling around in a sea of depression and grief so deep that he was drowning in it. His eyes were filled with so much pain, it almost made Niyah cry too.

“I know you do. I miss him too.”

He closed his eyes and sighed as he leaned into her touch. “I… I’m scared,” He mumbled, voice wavering. Niyah’s eyes softened.

“About?”

He hesitantly opened his mouth to speak, “Who’s going to be next? Mikey? Leo? You?” Niyah couldn’t possibly generate a response to that, so he kept going.

“What if I get too close to someone, and— and then they die? What if you…” He trailed off, the tears in his eyes returning but not falling.

“No one lives forever,” She said honestly. “And yeah, someday I will die.” Donnie flinched at her words, but it was the truth.

“But living life is about making connections— memories with people you never thought you’d meet! Would you rather you’d never met Raph, wishing that you got to know him when you had the chance, or would you rather be happy that you got to know him and you have these good memories of him so he could live on in your mind?”

Donnie fell silent, mouth agape as if to say something, but that something never came. He just exhaled loudly and rested his head on her shoulder. “I don’t want anyone else to die,” he muttered in her ear.

Niyah’s hand made laps running from the top of his head to the base of his neck. “I’m afraid you can’t control that, Don,” she whispered back.

“I know I can’t,” he growled, gripping his hands at the bottom of Niyah’s jacket. He let out a breath and his grip relaxed. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do if you died.”

Niyah’s heart sank at that. Her hand paused in her soothing rubs for just a moment, before stuttering and starting up again.

“I won’t,” she said sternly (not realizing how stupid that sounded; she wasn’t immortal).

Donnie all but scoffed, “You can’t possibly promise something like that.”

“Maybe not.” She trailed, “But,” pulling away from Donnie just so he’d look at her again. With one of her hands, she cradled his face. His beautiful brown eyes looked up at her and she had nearly gotten lost in them.

“For as long as I live, I will always be there for you. Every step, every breath. That I can promise.” Her voice was filled with so much confidence and yet it was soft; reassuring.

Donnie seemingly searched her eyes for any sign of deceit but in the end, found nothing but truth. She meant to keep this promise.

He exhaled, letting his expression soften. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Same for me.”

Niyah only smiled, glazing over his features again. “Have you slept at all?” She asked suddenly. Donnie blinked and shook his head, seemingly ashamed. Niyah sighed gently, “Donnie…”

He darted his gaze to the floor and started fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. He looked so drained; so tired.

“Wanna take a nap?” She suggested, making Donnie perk up a bit. Shyly, he nodded again and Niyah smiled. She carefully climbed off him and held out her hand. He took it in an instant and she led him up and out of the lab.

Donnie closed the door behind them before they continued their trek to their room. On the way, Niyah had spotted Draxum walking past. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Donnie, smiling slightly and Niyah sent him a wide smile back with a small thumbs up.

When they had finally reached their quarters, no one spoke. They didn’t need words anyway.

Niyah set Donnie’s mask down on a small nightstand and put her various other things away while Donnie mindlessly followed her around like a sleepy duckling. She turned to her lover and helped him remove his battle shell (that's been on for god knows how long), exposing his soft shell to the elements.

A small shiver ran up Donnie’s spine in the absence of his armor, but he didn’t feel one bit panicked or anxious. He felt safe. Niyah treated him so softly, she was impossibly gentle with him and it was so… different. Living with 3 other brothers, gentle was almost nowhere in their vocabulary. Donnie didn’t like the idea of being treated like glass, but Niyah never made him feel like that. She made him feel like he was precious, not fragile; knowing his strength but still taking the time to treat him softly. This was something new and sure it’s been years now but it still amazed him.

God, he loves her.

“I love you,” he whispered as she put his mechanical shell away to the side. She nearly flinched at how random it was, but she smiled all the same.

“I love you too.”

And with that, they both settled into bed (it was much warmer with Donnie here even if he was cold-blooded) and Donnie nestled in the base of her neck. Niyah traced gentle patterns of stars and hearts on his shell, letting him relax into sleep. She whispered sweet nothings to him, kissing his forehead and listening to his soft churring. He was out like a light.

Niyah pulled him closer once she heard his calm breathing and small snores. She felt so protective over him seeing him like this. She wanted nothing more than for him to be okay because he deserved to feel safe and happy. Niyah swore she was going to do everything in her power to make sure he was okay.

That was her promise.

Matching Donnie’s breathing pattern with her own, Niyah was soon washed over with a wave of fatigue. Finally, she closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.

════════⊹⊱≼ ✦ ✧ ≽⊰⊹════════

WOOOO YAYAYYA I FINALLY FINISHED THIS WUAGHDSAJL oh my goodness. This was a nice little hurt/comfort fic to write :] I hoped yall enjoyed this! Don’t be a silent reader! I love comments so much it makes me so happy ^^ Love you all!! Have a great day <3 🍋

Big thanks to my beta readers @yourlocalartsonist @yosajaeofficial and @oleander-nin !!! 💛��💛💕💛💕

✦ Master List

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mikhailwrites · 2 years ago

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Something to look forward to / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #15 - Massage (from the SFW prompt list)

Soap groans again, rubbing at the sore spot on his shoulder. Again. Ghost has had just enough. Standing up from his chair, he scoops the stack of half-filled forms. “MacTavish, on me,” Ghost barks out, causing several other people in the room to flinch. “I’m sorry, Ghost, I’ll shut up…,” Soap apologises, looking a bit sheepish. “That was an order, Sergeant,” Ghost says, voice hard and cold.

Soap stands up immediately and, with a defeated “yes, sir,” proceeds to trail after his Lieutenant. He knows he was being a nuisance this evening, but he just couldn’t help himself. Soap has trouble keeping still and quiet for a prolonged period of time, even when his back doesn’t hurt like hell.

Ghost leads him through the corridors brusquely, never once slowing down or checking if Soap’s still behind him. Not that he needs to check, Soap is only ever being obstinate and insubordinate under very specific circumstances.

To Johnny’s surprise, Ghost leads them to his room. “Lose the top and get on the bed,” he instructs with the same level of casual efficiency as if he were ordering Soap to breach the door or throw in a frag. Soap stands there, visibly confused. “Christ, Johnny, do as I say, or I’m gonna put you on the kitchen duty for the next week.”

That snaps him back to reality. Soap takes his tee off, removes his shoes and lays on Simon’s bed. It’s not the first time he’s in here, and this time, he wears far more clothes, too, yet Ghost seems to have something else planned for them tonight.

Soap startles a little as he feels Ghost’s solid weight on his arse but relaxes immediately. Something cool and liquid is being poured on his back, and soon enough, Ghost’s hands start to knead at Johnny’s tense muscles. Soap gasps and moans with appreciation. He hears Simon chuckle as he continues.

Even after all the time, Soap is still impressed by Ghost’s level of control over his immense strength. Right now, that same strength is being carefully employed to make Soap feel better. Well, maybe not so carefully. Ghost digs into a hard knot, forcing a pained yelp out of his Sergeant. Simon only hums in response before doing it again.

“Fuck, that hurts,” Soap says through gritted teeth, clutching the sheets in the hopes it will somehow help.

Ghost doesn’t relent, only slightly changing the angle as he digs his fingers deep between Soap’s shoulder blades. “How did you even manage this?” Ghost asks, using his knuckles now to force the knot loose.

“No… ah… idea,” Soap lies, unwilling to mention the numerous cases of him being unable to sit like a regular human being. Having his feet up on the desk was the closest to a proper sitting position he could manage. More often than not, he’d end up having his work laptop on his lap, staring down at it until his neck muscles screamed for a reprieve.

“You’re a bad liar, Johnny,” Simon notes. He finally manages to dissolve the knot but almost immediately finds another one right in the junction between the neck and the shoulder. He’s a bit gentler now, simply applying steady, rolling pressure, listening to Johnny’s gasps and whimpers.

Simon would be lying if he said he doesn’t find it a bit erotic. However, he’s got way too much work to catch up to, and Johnny seems mere minutes away from passing out from the mixture of exhaustion and relief. “Do you want to stay the night?” Ghost asks as casually as he can. Morning shag honestly doesn’t sound half bad.

“Aye…,” Johnny mutters into the linens. Ghost obliterates another two hard knots and, failing to find any more, turns to just gently press the heels of his palms across the planes of his back, methodically going from shoulders to the small of his back and up again.

A few minutes later, he stands up, sparing a moment to look at Johnny’s broad back, glistening with lotion. It takes a lot to rein himself in. The prospect of going down on Johnny, taking his trousers and briefs off and using the same lotion to gently finger him open before fucking him at a maddeningly slow pace is infinitely more appealing than the stash of printed-out forms he needs to hand over tomorrow morning.

Thankfully, Soap makes it somewhat easier since he’s already fallen asleep, sprawled on Ghost’s bed. Simon sighs, sitting at his desk to finish his work. However, he takes his phone first and sets the alarm an hour earlier than usual. Now he has something to look forward to.

#call of duty #ghost mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost x soap #ghostsoap #soap mw2 #soapghost #ghoap #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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seedofjoseph · 1 year ago

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hellbent (WIP)

Author's Note: After posting homebound (link), I immediately began working on a ficlet featuring the overprotective love interest trope starring John Seed. However, I've only picked it up again this week, so I'm posting this early on WIP Wednesday.

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed as a madman. You? All you knew was that he was mad. Wrath he called you, though it sounded like it suited him better. Especially during his last radio call.

“Wrath,” he screamed through the static. “Godammit, Wrath! Where are you?”

“Language, Seed,” you shot back, not being able to see if you’ve hit your target, but hearing the words had wounded him instead. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I’ll find you, girl,” his words were muffled, his mouth probably planted close enough to kiss the microphone. “Even if I have to burn down every dive bar and liquor store in this valley to draw you out, I’ll find you.”

“Thought you let me break curfew so that I could go bar hopping,” you smirked. And, while he couldn’t have seen you do so, he sure as shit heard it in your tone. “I thought you let me out so that I could indulge in my sins.”

“I did and you have,” he answered, the coolness of it making him out to be as inhuman as the receiver his voice was coming out of. “And now I’m coming to save you from yourself.” Before you could press the button to press his buttons, John Seed went completely cold as the receiver went silent.

Feeling only a little bit frustrated by his lack of fire on this chilly night, you finally dismount your bike and let it recline on the stand instead of your legs. After, you unfasten your leather jacket on your short walk to the rest stop entrance, feeling only a little bit heated. Then, taking in the neon-lit shelves and the yellow-stained floors, you cool off with the thought of a cold Coke.

The truth is that you didn’t set out to indulge in anything else besides caffeine tonight. And the lie is that you bask in the fire your wrath left in its wake. That is the lie you fed to John Seed through your shared frequency, the target you put on your back as you drove away from Holland Valley, from everyone you wouldn’t want to be in his crosshairs. And the truth was that businesses that you were a patron of were going up in flames.

So you sigh in sweet relief as the taste of the sugary drink elevated some weight off of your heavy shoulders. “Needed that,” you paid for the half-emptied bottled as soon as you made it to the counter. “Keep the change.” And you exit before the kid on the other side of it can lift his head and recognize you.

All you knew was that John Seed was mad and you wouldn’t bet a poor boy’s life on him not blowing a gasket along with the rest stop.

“That you, Deputy?”

The door slammed loudly behind you, but it’s a shouting human voice that startled you.

You shake your head frantically and walk back to your bike briskly. “Not tonight I’m not.”

The man is indignant and you can tell from the sound that comes out of his throat. Because you weren’t facing him. You couldn’t face him. Not after what happened the last time you did.

“It’s me,” you hear him hop out of the pick-up and bounce back on his boots like he’d lost his footing. “It’s Jean. But you called me Jaaawn,” he slurs like he’d forgotten how you speak. “Yes, Jaaawn. Fuck yes,” he spits your own drunken words back to you.

It’s like he’s getting the both of you shitfaced again. It’s like he’s in your face and up your shirt and in your pants again. Like you never shoved him off of you and locked him in the bathroom stall. Like the bar is still up and running and not in ruins after some Peggie recognised you stumbling out of it and gave John Seed the excuse to indulge in his wrath.

“I’d buy you a drink, buuut,” he stumbles between you and your bike. “But John made them all go BOOM.”

Jean didn’t look much like John Seed tonight, so that drink he’d bought you was strong enough to make him shape-shift before your very inebriated eyes. Though he stands at the same height and combs back the same dark hair with fingers covered in just as much ink, his eyes are more murky green than clear blue. And though he stands before you untouched by the collateral damage your indulgence has caused, you don’t hesitate to lay your hands on him and shove him to the side.

“I’m going sober,” you decline, determined to quit drinking Coke, too, and drive off.

“Least you could do is moan my name,” he spits. “My real name. While I'm fingerin’ your pussy. That was me, bitch, not John fuckin’ Seed.”

The whole of Holland Valley knew John Seed had eyes and ears everywhere. All you knew was that Jean’s slurred speech had summoned him and the empty rest stop you’d pulled into is now crawling by his cavalry.

“Oh, my God,” Jean tries and fails to find his footing and stumbles backwards into your bike. “Oh, my fuckin’ God,” he turns around and takes you in, eyes filled with fear. “Don’t let him kill me, deputy. Please don’t let him kill me.”

Your voice is steady as you instruct him to get inside, even as your heart is rattling the cage that is your chest. And your body shields the entrance, even if your soul threatens to make its escape. But you won’t let it or yourself get away. And you won’t leave another trail of fire in your wake.

“Wrath,” he calls you, but this sin burns brighter in his words than they ever did in yours. And he hops out of the van in a hurry, already heaving like he’d been chasing you on foot through the Valley. “How many more lives have to go up in flames before you’re satiated?”

“None,” you raise your hands in front of you, adding more distance between the Reaper and the two lives. “Not a single one. I’m done.” Then, you stretch your arms above your head. “I’m done, okay?”

You were far from done, far from having your eyelids ripped open, the furthest you can be from amazing grace. And his big brother would’ve called you blind still, but you needed him to see you as enlightened right now.

What your blind eyes do see is something strange in John Seeds eyes, something which resembled a comforting warmth and not a punishing fire.

“It’s suffocating, isn’t it?” His voice is horse like he’s been shouting, and your throat dries like he is right. You are suffocating. “Your wrath has set the world on fire and you’re the only one left to breathe in the ashes.”

The little air left between the two of you is enough for you to exhale: “Yes.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#far cry 5 #john seed #john seed x deputy #john seed x reader #john seed x female deputy #deputy rook #the deputy #WIP #fanfic #my fanfic

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fanficshiddles · 1 year ago

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The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 33

Just under a few weeks later, Chris had organised some interviews for potential teachers, to take over Jeremy’s role. Lucius was involved in the process, too. As well as Loki.

They held it one evening, on Wednesday after school hours. Loki came back in to the school with Bat on his shoulder.

‘Why have you brought Bat?’ Lucius asked with a chuckle as he happily greeted the cat.

‘She’s been alone all day, I didn’t want to leave her alone all evening either. Since Claire is away visiting her sister tonight, I just thought I’d bring her here.’ Loki smiled.

‘BAT!’ Jessica squealed from down the corridor and began running to see her.

Bat leapt away from Lucius and jumped into Jessica’s arms.

Jessica had been working late, marking some practice tests they’d held during school time. So was a few of the other teachers.

‘I’ll keep her company if you want while you guys do the interviews.’ Jessica offered.

‘Are you sure? Was you not about to head home?’ Loki asked.

‘There are still some tests to mark, I was just stretching my legs. Once I’m finished, I’ll put her with Severus if he’s still here.’ Jessica said and then headed off back to her classroom with Bat, without waiting for an answer from Loki, making him chuckle.

‘Chris has the forms for the potential candidates in his office. We’ve got half an hour before they arrive. He already has his eye on the only vampire that’s applied.’ Lucius sighed.

‘Figures.’ Loki rolled his eyes.

While there was only one vampire that applied out of five candidates, they were all qualified enough. Though even Chris agreed after interviewing them all, that one of them stood out the most and seemed that he would be the best fit for the school. His name was Alex and he was a human.

After they dismissed all the candidates apart from Alex, they gave him the good news and asked him to start straight away. Which he agreed to do, happily.

Loki went to go fetch Bat now he was finished. Jessica’s classroom was empty, so he went to Severus’ class, knowing she would be there.

As he reached his room, the door was half open so Loki paused just outside and peeped in a little when he heard Severus talking in an odd voice.

‘You are such a cutie. My girl would absolutely adore you. Yes, she would!’ Severus was cooing over Bat, who was lying on his desk, loving the attention. Severus leaned back to take a picture of Bat, to send it to his partner, then he was back fawning over her.

Loki pushed the door further open and walked in. Severus instantly straightened himself up and his face fell serious.

‘Ah. Come for your cat?’ He asked with a cough.

Loki struggled to resist from laughing. ‘Yes, come to get my cutie cat.’ He smirked.

Severus glared at Loki then abruptly stood up. ‘Well, it’s not a lie, is it?’ He shrugged sheepishly.

Loki decided not to tease him further on it. He walked over and scooped Bat up. ‘Thanks for keeping her company. She does love people.’

‘No problem.’ Severus said quietly, then sat down again once Loki left the room.

Loki headed towards the entrance, he saw Alex just ahead of him who was just leaving, too.

‘I look forward to working with you, Alex.’ Loki called to him.

Alex spun around and smiled. ‘Thanks, you too.’

Bat then did something that Loki had never seen before. She let out the loudest yell Loki had ever heard from her, but it was an angry yell, and she threw herself out of Loki’s arms and bolted towards Alex while hissing and growling at him.

Alex backed up, but Bat launched for his lower legs with her claws out, she kept spitting at him and yowling.

Chris and Lucius came running down the corridor at the noise, Severus rushed out of his class too. They were all just as stunned as Loki was.

‘I’m sorry, she’s never done this before.’ Loki said quickly in a panic as he ran forward and grabbed Bat.

Though Bat wasn’t happy. She squirmed so much that Loki couldn’t keep hold of her, and as soon as she was back on the floor, she launched for Alex yet again. Alex ran out of the school and stumbled down the steps, Bat continued to chase him right across the grounds and she only stopped once he was out the school gates.

Loki, Chris, Lucius and Severus ran out after them.

‘I’ll… see… you tomorrow.’ Alex called out, shaken, as he bolted down the road towards his car.

The vampires just stared in complete shock.

‘Chris... I think you should probably organise a thorough background check on that guy.’ Severus muttered, still staring at Bat.

‘Definitely.’ Chris muttered back.

‘Bat. Are you ok? Are you hurt, ill?’ Loki asked as he picked her up, worried over her.

‘I don’t think she’s hurt, Loki. I’d say she just senses something very off about Alex.’ Lucius hummed.

‘She’s never done that before.’ Loki said as he turned to face them, though Bat was settled again and began licking her paws as she relaxed in her owners’ arms.

‘We’ll look into the guy. If he’s clean, then perhaps worry about if she’s ill or hurting.’ Chris said calmly.

‘Hm.’ Loki huffed, still not convinced there wasn’t something wrong with her.

The following day, Lucius went to the school and informed Loki that Alex turned out to be a hunter. He was trying to get close to the vampires of the school, to build up a trust before attacking from the inside.

‘So, Bat’s judgement was right. He was a bad man with bad intentions.’ Claire said and Lucius nodded.

‘Loki, what’s wrong?’ Claire asked, noting how he didn’t seem happy.

‘I just… She’s never attacked someone like that before, or even displayed anger towards someone. If she is like that with bad people, why is she always all over Chris?’

Claire’s face softened and she wrapped her arms around his arm. ‘He did save her, remember? I bet she remembers that.’

Loki grumped in response.

‘I’ve told Chris to re-interview the other candidates, he can decide who he wants to hire.’ Lucius said.

‘What’s happened with Alex?’ Claire asked.

‘He’s been dealt with.’ Was all Lucius said. ‘I’ll see you later, I need to get back to work.’

‘Thanks, dad.’ Loki called to him as he headed out.

Loki sat down on his chair and ran a hand down his face. Claire went over and perched on his lap, he put his arm around her and smiled. ‘Thanks, love. Sorry for being grumpy.’

Claire draped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘I love you even when you’re being a Mr grumpy gills, don’t worry.’ She teased.

Loki chuckled. ‘I was just really worried about Bat. Never seen her act like that before. She can fairly go into attack mode, I never knew she had it in her.’

‘Well, she obviously just never needed to. At least she’s acting on her instinct and let you all know that Alex was bad. I know the way she is with Chris upsets you, but to a kitten that had been abandoned and was on the brink of death, the person to save her will always have a place in her heart. Whether you agree with that judgement or not.’ Claire said softly.

‘I know. You’re right.’ Loki sighed.

‘I’m always right.’ Claire grinned.

‘Don’t push it.’ Loki smirked at her.

‘Not interrupting, am I?’ Came Chris’ voice, making Loki tense up and his jaw clench.

‘You always are, though that's never stopped you before.’ Loki growled at him.

Chris smirked and walked into the room, hands behind his back. ‘I’ve called the other candidates back for tonight.’

Loki waited, thinking there was more to it. Though Chris never said anything more. ‘Ok… So? You don’t need me to be there, do you?’

‘Not necessarily… but can I borrow Bat?’

Loki’s eyebrows almost shot up off the top of his head. ‘What? No! You’re not using my cat.’

‘She clearly has a good sense of who’s good and who’s not. Wouldn’t you rather a new teacher working here had her approval?’ Chris asked, folding his arms over his chest.

‘Well, of course. Though I don’t want to stress her out more.’ Loki argued.

‘I promise, if she acts the same way with any of the other candidate, I will chuck them out instantly. I’ll even take her back to you after we’re done, to save you coming back in.’ Chris said calmly.

Loki was speechless, he looked at Claire, who shrugged.

‘I mean… I don’t think it would be a bad thing to let Bat meet the others, to make sure there’s not another hunter trying to get in.’ Claire said softly.

Loki growled a little and glared at Chris. ‘No… it’s not happening.’

That evening, the first candidate to return walked into Chris’ office in the evening and raised an eyebrow upon seeing a black cat sitting on Chris’ desk, with seemingly judging eyes.

‘What’s with the cat?’ He asked with a chuckle and leaned over to pet her, Bat gave an appreciative purr, but kept professional.

‘She’s my assistant’ Bat let out a displeased yell. ‘I mean, my… deputy head for the day.’ Chris chuckled a little.

Bat sat a little prouder, looking as pleased as a cat could.

‘Ok…’ The guy trailed off, slightly confused as he sat down.

The interviews with the four candidates went well. Bat didn’t have a bad reaction to any of them, which Chris was relieved about, he wasn’t really in the mood to fight with his little brother tonight. While the candidates waited outside, Chris put their forms out on front of Bat.

‘I like them all. Who do you think is best?’ He asked and folded his arms over his chest.

Bat looked at the forms with the little profile pictures of each one in the top corner. She took a moment before putting her paw on the third guy, Spencer. Chris picked up his paper and glanced over it with a hum.

‘What did you think of this one? He’s the only vampire. Unless my senses are mistaken, the other three are humans. Right?’ Chris asked.

Bat chirped her answer, which he figured meant yes. Though she walked over to Chris and batted at the form in his hands again.

He sighed and looked at Bat, she stared back at him, neither of them blinked or broke eye contact for a minute. Then Chris sighed again and nodded. ‘Alright. I’ll offer Spencer the job.’ He said with a little reluctance.

Bat let out a happy chirp and brushed her head against him. Chris rolled his eyes but had a little smile as he petted her.

When he popped out of his office to see the four candidates, Bat was perched on his shoulder.

‘Thank you all for coming back for another interview. It was difficult to choose between you all, as you all have great skills and experience for this school. However, Spencer, I’d like to offer you the job.’ Chris put on a smile and walked over to shake his hand, deliberately leaving out the part that he’d only gotten the job because of a cat deciding.

‘Thank you very much, Sir. I really appreciate it.’ Spencer grinned happily.

When the candidates and Spencer left, Chris took Bat straight home. To avoid Loki’s wrath.

‘Well, did you pick one?’ Loki asked when he answered the door.

‘Yes. Gone with Spencer, the one from down South. He’s starting in a week.’ Chris said as he handed Bat over to Loki.

Loki raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Well, good choice.’

‘You went with a human? I thought you’d have picked the vampire.’ Claire said from behind Loki as she wandered through.

Chris' jaw clenched a little in annoyance. ‘Let’s just say, a cat’s sense is even better than a vampire’s sense. So sometimes it’s wise to go with your head instead of the heart.’

Loki couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Are you telling me that you let Bat pick?’

Chris shrugged in response, turned on his heels and began making his way down the path without another word.

Loki and Claire looked at Bat, who had made herself comfy in Loki’s arms. She looked up at them both and chirped at them. Loki and Claire then looked at each other, in slight disbelief, before closing the door.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #fluffy loki #loki fic #jessica chastain #severus snape #chris motionless #lucius #the redbridge hunts #vampire Loki

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at1nys-blog · 1 year ago

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Thunders leaving hints

Pairing: not much of a pairing to be honest

Summary: something out of the ordinary happens and Percy Jackson is furiously mad

A/N: I know I have WIPS piling up but shhhh. Also this was based on a post by @awesome-shoes-with-wings and I had to write this just for fun so is not as good as my other works but is something. For the requests, I’ll be finish them shortly I hope

They didn’t know where they were going, the only thing they knew was that wherever was safer than what it was supposed to be home.

New York had been chaotic the past couple of weeks both for the mortal world and the…immortal one.

They knew about the monster living among humans, knew about the gods and goddesses watching over them. The deities appeared in their dreams every now and then leaving cryptic messages that only made sense in dreamland.

The last one was the most weird message they received, talking about a camp in Long Island where they could stop by for a while before starting their journey back again.

It took them a couple of days, walking around the forest to finally see the entrance of the so called Camp Half Blood. Before stepping in, they looked around, making sure no monster were after them, if they were they didn’t want for the campers to be in danger.

Something, stroking their leg made them jump out of their skin but when they noticed it was just a cat, once again, they felt relieved.

“Why do you guys keep scaring me like that.” They started saying while getting down on the animal level. “Thank you for keeping me good company.” They added before taking out of their backpack a cookie to give the cat a piece of it. “Okay now…” standing up they took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” And they stepped foot at camp.

Hestia was minding her business when she saw the kid getting inside, eyes still on the situation she called Zeus over.

“I think you need to claim them as soon as possible before Perseus pays us a visit.” The father of the Gods was caught unprepared for this, choking on his ambrosia.

“I don’t have kids to claim.” He said frenetically, looking around hoping his wife wasn't around, who knows what she might think of this.

“Are you sure?” The Goddess asked, she just wanted to make sure they were not going to get a visit from Percy anytime soon. She loves the kid, dearly, he is a sweet boy but she knows how scary he can be, just like his father’s domain.

“I’m 100% sure THAT is NOT my kid to claim. If anything they look like they could be Hera’s kid if she was anything like me.” Thunder, at the mention of Hera’s name, there were thunders which surprised both Zeus and Hestia.

“Are you so scared of her you can’t control your thunders?” Joked the Goddess but again, it wasn’t Zeus.

The two deities dropped the conversation there, if his brother claimed that wasn’t his kid after mentioning Percy Jackson than Hestia cpuld believe he was telling the truth. That was not his kid.

Percy Jackson was furious, it had been three hours since this kid got at camp at the Gods didn’t say a word yet. He made it clear, they were to claim their kids as soon as possible.

For the son of Poseidon it had been a struggle the first hour with the new camper, but everyone talked some sense into him, wait, maybe their godly parent is busy with something, but Percy was sure it wouldn’t be difficult to just send a little message even while busy. They didn’t had to drop at camp, looking at their kid and saying ‘yep that’s mine’ they just had to send a little glowing little symbol, nothing that would take literally a second.

“I’m going to talk to them. They are coming with me” He couldn’t wait longer.

“Whoah whoah whoah. Hold your horses man, Annabeth and Chiron asked you to wait until tonight. Maybe their parent is busy.” Stopped him Grover.

“Man, I love you, I do but I’m pretty sure is like sending a text message. You can do it everywhere you are, whatever you are doing.” It was a fair point, the satyr agreed.

“Okay, but what if…” the glance that Percy sent him scared his best friend, who just shut up. There was no way he would make him change his mind. “You are scary.” Grover commented under his breath, praying the Gods Percy didn't hear him.

“They only had one job. One hell of a job.” Another set of thunders and lighting rumbled on Earth. “Don’t get mad at me Zeus, fix that or else…” he shouted at the sky. “I’m going to take a shower since I have to wait. Keep them company.” He said pointing at the new kid, who was having something to eat with the Hermes’ kids.

Three hours and yet nothing. Zeus called a meeting 30 minutes after he noticed no one was going to claim the new camper but all the major Gods came with the same answer ‘is not mine’ but how was that even possible?

It wasn’t a kid of the minor deities either and he was going crazy about this.

“Can you guys tell me who is so stupid to go against Perseus?” It came out naturally, everyone looking at Zeus confused. “What? That kid is worst than Poseidon here.” The God of the sea was smirking, proud of his boy being feared by his “all mighty” brother.

“Not to be that Goddess but have you noticed they attract cats like they are catnip? Could that be used to find who between us is their parent?” Said Athena and, as if a lightbulb turned on in their little godly brains, everyone agreed, and the twelve gods turned their head to Artemis.

“You people have to be kidding me. I swore celibacy.” Her words did not affect the deities. “I would give up immortality than laying in bed with a man.” Disgust filled her tone at the use of that word.

“It was worth the shot.” Commented Apollo. “So who else here loves cats.” He added looking deep into Ares’ eyes.

“Stop staring at me.” If anything Apollo’s gaze on him intensified. “Oh for the love of me, just because I had a cat as a partner ONCE now that means every kid that like cats is mine?” The war God had to take a step away from Apollo, not standing the way he was looking at him so close and so deep. “Look if that weakly thing was mine I would send something else to keep them safe.” He added which only made the Sun God coo and teased him for being a softie. “I’ll show you how much of a softie I am…”

“Stop it. If you keep fighting between one another, we will never find out who between you created them. Now…” started Hera, who only wanted this day to be over.

“Maybe is one of the nymphs’ kid?” Suggested Dionysus.

“Man you should really shut your mouth. If that was the case we wouldn’t be here.” Iris interjected before anyone else could. “Listen, that one is not mine okay? Now I need to go.” And she left, just like this but she knew the others would believe in her words, she wasn’t one to lie. On the other hand… The pro liar between them did not say a word yet which Hecate had to point out.

“What if the cats are just a disguise? What do you think about that Hermes?” Oh Gods if she was having the time of her life at this exact moment. Knowing who the demigod belonged to was so much fun, she had to thank Freya for this. “Isn’t it weird that he didn’t say anything? Maybe they are yours? Or do you know something?”

“The only thing I know is that my wings are killing me right now. Good me, I never flew this much in ages.” He said.

“Why are you avoiding my questions? Am I right? Are they yours?” Of course she was mistaken but Gods if she was loving it. Now she understood why Eris loves to create dramas.

“That is not my kid. As Ares here, I take pride in my children’s talent and they are not good enough to be my kids.” Thunders once again. “Zeus you really need to check on your thunders. If the go ballistic once again I might start crying.” cried Hermes. While everyone was trying to figure out who was behind the kid’s creation Hecate was having so much fun, trying her best to not laugh at their faces.

It was at the end of the day, when Percy came to Mt. Olympus looking at the twelve Gods with eyes filled with rage that Hermes had an enlightment.

“Uhm guys, I think I might know why we couldn’t find out who is their parent.” Hestia and Hera rolled their eyes, while everyone else was so ready to jump him. “Is because their godly parent is from another pantheon.” Thunders started rumbling in the background, like a laugh.

“Dad stop this.” Zeus' kids said in unison.

“Is not me.”

“Is not him, that is Thor laughing at us. He had been sending them all day long, how could I not notice that sooner?” At the gods faces turning into a question mark, Hermes just sighed. “Didn't you noticed he would use thunders every time we belittled the kid? No one? Really? Wow.”

“So, you are saying that there are other Gods out there? And they still don’t claim their off spring? Alright, can you tell me where they are? I need to take it out on someone.” And Percy was ready, so ready to knock some good manners into the Gods, he didn't care if they are powerful being that could easily kill him.

The gods had to block him there before he went on doing something stupid.

“Kid, that is so nice of you but they are already claimed, pretty much since birth.” said Hermes, knowing about you from Loki.

“The cats.” The other said in unison.

“This is why Loki called me last week and asked me so many questions about Camp Half Blood.” Oh, that God was in for a good group jump.

Leaving Mt. Olympus Percy was content with the outcome: the new kid was already claimed, the Greek gods had nothing to do with it and another pantheon was revealed to exist. ANOTHER PANTHEON EXISTS?! He wished those Gods didn’t like him very much but with his luck? He was ready to get a quest the second he walked back into camp.

“I just hope it is local and I don’t have to go to Canada once again.” If only he knew what the Fates had in store for him.

#*ೃ༄ at1nys blog˚◞♡ ⃗#fanfiction based on a post on tumblr #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fanfiction #greeks gods #reader insert #percy jackson reader insert #percy jackson platonic fanfiction

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savagewildnerness · 7 months ago

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Thank you to @yeehawbicth for the suggestion!

This was kinda cathartic, GRRR! Teeheehee!

Look, if you want me to go weird, oh YEAH… I don’t have to do pretty tunes! 😇😈 Just first go improvise & here it is 🤷🏻‍♀️! The BANGS are because I was sat too close to my violin case and kept bashing my arm/bow into the case, LOLOLOL: spatial awareness of me = zero.

Armand is stood on a (beige!) cushion (A da Vinci cushion, which feels somehow apt for the vamps?)

(1) because Louis is taller enough it seemed funny otherwise &

(2) it felt both amusing & possibly a thing Armand might have to do to assert control in some sad & heartbreaking desperation were he smaller in this situation!?! AND book-Armand isn’t very tall so that adds a whole extra layer to it all!

OK, let’s try the middle a bit of this…. I had a think about it and it’s actually very hard to think about musically, because there is obviously such anger there on both sides of the fight… but it isn’t mere anger on either side… underlying the anger for Armand is love, fear, control and terror… Underlying the anger for Louis is resentment, depression, unhappiness, an apathy borne of sorrow and loss and yearning for escape and/or for Lestat (oh… and being out of his mind on Daniel’s drugs!)… and for both of them - a fear of being alone in eternity… but especially for Armand. And Louis is actively trying to hurt Armand, whereas Armand is reacting as he is hurt & is also worried for Louis, but his hurt trumps his worry in the end.

Because of this I thought it was best to do two improvisations - one for Louis and one for Armand… but I’ll do them one after the other so I’m sure you won’t tell when I move from Louis to Armand….

I partly thought it would have been better to do tomorrow when violin could have been Louis & piano, Armand… but I can’t do this scene without @torisngeli’s vampires! (Even though it’s VERY hard to look at Louis’ adorable face & Armand’s little smile & imagine either as angry! 😂) Not when Louis is literally wearing his outfit from this scene! One day I’ll try an improvise to the footage of this scene! But for today… (I wanted to stop before they moved on to Claudia as that alters the vibe…)

Also, I had to distill the feelings down further to have in my mind:

For Louis: an anger that is trying to hurt & a vast, aching sorrow of feeling trapped, a half-buried yearning longing for Lestat, though he doesn’t want to & a hopeless search for escape.

For Armand: fear, love, pain, terror & a controlled calm that won’t entirely release the depths of his anger and sorrow.

I also thought about Gremlin-Armand & the hammer of “Lestat, Lestat, Lestat…”

Louis: Oh, this is boring! You're boring! You are so boring! Colourless. Flavourless. Dull! Dull! Dull nights, dull weeks! Dull months, dull as fuck! Suffocation by the world's softest, beige-est pillow! The ten hours I spent with that boy were more exciting, more fascinating than decades with you! Oh, there it is! The half-blank, half-apocalyptic look! But what does it mean tonight, huh? Does he want to lick my boots or chop my hands off? Is it the gremlin or the good nurse tonight? Huh? Okay, Okay, let's wake the boy up and let's try you. "I'm the vampire Armand and my daddy vampire groomed me into a little bitch. Vampires who murdered my Daddy made me pretend I didn't have a dick for 240 years.

Armand: Okay. Okay, perhaps. But am I as boring as the blather committed onto the ferric tapes of your fascinating boy? "Oh, it's so, so hard to be me. It's so hard to kill humans. I can feel their feelings as I drain them. Everyone I know wrongs me. My brother, he tossed himself off a roof! My sister, she buried me alive. My daughter was my sister was my throw pillow. “Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat. Lestat." The name!! The name! Unuttered in our home for 23 years, said over and over again until it was pounding in my brain like a hammer.

#violin improvisation #five stringed violin #violinist #violin #interview with the vampire #anne rice #amc interview with the vampire #nicolas de lenfent #the vampire louis #the vampire armand #louis de pointe du lac #loumand #iwtv loumand #IWTV s2e5

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ryqoshay · 4 months ago

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Tri-Arame - Time Magic

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: 676 Rating: G Time Frame: Some time during their college years Prompt: Glasses

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Summary: Yuu and Ayumu arrive home to find Nana studying hard?

Author's Note: Primary entry for the 27th

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“We’re home, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu announced as she stepped through the door of her dorm room.

“Oh, she’s in Nana-chan mode.” Yuu observed. “She must be doing some serious studying.”

The girl wearing glasses and her twintails in braids looked up from her laptop. “Oh, hey, uhm…” She looked indecisive for a moment.

“If you’re busy, you don’t have to get up, Nana-chan.” Ayumu assured as she removed her shoes.

“Yeah, we can come to you.” Yuu added.

“No, it’s not that.” Nana shook her head as her girlfriends made their way over to the kotatsu. “I wasn’t really studying…”

The trio took a moment for kisses, hugs and words of greetings.

“Oh, wow, that’s a lot of tabs.” Yuu chuckled as she settled in on one side of Nana.

“Diving down another research rabbit hole for your doujin?” Ayumu asked, leaning in from Nana’s other side.

“Must be one heck of a deep dive for you to use Nana-chan mode to help you focus.”

“Ever since I added all the new characters, I can’t stop coming up with new ideas.” Nana explained, despite her girlfriends being well aware of the fact.

Recently, Nana had been talking about her doujin at the idol production company where she worked part time. The setting and story caught the interest of other former school idols, and somehow, Nana had ended up with permission to use their names and likenesses in her work. Suddenly, the cast had exploded in size, and Nana had been riding on cloud nine ever since. Every waking moment not studying or practicing for the past couple weeks had been focused on her doujin.

“So many that I couldn’t possibly keep up with trying to draw them all in any reasonable amount of time.” Nana continued. “But I don’t want to lose the ideas either, so I’ve been outlining several story lines I would like to eventually draw. I was hoping to have enough to send to Shizuku-san for review later tonight.”

“And us?” Yuu asked.

“Well, yes, of course I would welcome input from Yuu-san and Ayumu-san. I, uhm, thought that part was obvious.”

“So, what part got you stuck enough to bring out Nana-chan?” Ayumu asked.

Nana hung her head.

“Mm?”

“It’s silly…”

“The entire premise is silly.” Yuu laughed. “Monsters running a theater? Ridiculous. Keeping up some masquerade that monsters don’t exist so they can live among humans? Fascinating. And that’s half the fun of it. I find it thrilling how many ways Nana-chan has turned the mundane into the exciting by adding some supernatural twist.”

“Well, I just finished outlining a chapter about my character catching a cold.”

“Cthughans can catch colds?”

“It’s an eldritch cold.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, after the symptoms are dealt with, there is a big mess that I have Nozomi-san fix with a localized time reversal spell.”

“That sound interesting.” Ayumu commented.

“But what I’m stuck on is how I can use that spell again, for the good of the theater.” Nana said. “Like I’ve done with Shizuku-san’s ectoplasm, or Ai-san’s hair, or my living flame.”

“Maybe have something break in a play and have it be repaired?”

“Oh, maybe a bunch of glasses at a bar that Shizuku-chan’s Otosu drinks at?” Yuu suggested.

“I’m not sure if time magic would fit well in a detective noir play, Yuu-chan.” Ayumu said.

“There’s magic in the pirate play though, right?”

“That’s true.” Ayumu nodded. “And Nana-chan did write something about a trapped treasure.”

“Maybe use the rewindy spell to undo the effects of a trap?”

“Yes!” Nana’s head popped up. “That’s it! Time magic to reset a trap!” She began typing fast. “Thank you, Ayumu-san, Yuu-san.”

“Always happy to help.” Yuu grinned.

“Mm.” Ayumu agreed. “Well, I’ll leave you to your outlines.” She stood up. “I’m going to start making dinner.”

“Thanks, Ayumu.” Yuu said before settling in to watch Nana.

Ayumu smiled at the lack of response from Nana as she knew the obsessive focus had taken over. And that was one of the many things she loved about Nana.

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Author's Note Continued: I was wrong. I wrote three epilogue type entries for the ploƆ arc; I forgot about this one.

Anyway, when the Glasses prompt made me think about Nana, I initially thought perhaps she was studying really hard. But what if she wasn't studying? What if she was using Nana mode to help her concentrate on research or planning for her doujin? And what better doujin to use than PoH, which I already established as being a doujin in TA during a prior Promptober event? And I just wrote a big, multi-entry arc for PoH, centered on Setsuna's character, and YuuAyuSetsu. Thus this scene nearly wrote itself.

Prior Prompts Used: Masquerade Time

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic #Promptober 2024

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effelants · 1 year ago

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Tagged by @mxanigel (thank you!!! <3) to find these words in my WIPs! I'll try to look for them in fresh BG3 WIPs, but if I cannot find it, I shall go looking in my Dragon Age WIPs, namely in Super Secret Fic Project!

The words I was given are NIGHT, COMFORT, and TREE!

1. Night (@anderstrevelyan's Valas DeVir x my Vierna II Do'Urden)

“I don’t know. I was raised by humans. My parents died when I was very young.” A lie — but a good one, Vierna had thought at the time. Her voice hadn’t faltered, and her eyes had been steady and sure on his.

His jaw had clenched, ever so slightly, and that, right there — that had been the first glimpse of the man: that flash of emotion, deep within that dark gaze she’d known to be violet. What she hadn’t known, however, was what that emotion was, and she hadn’t known it for many weeks to come.

Not until tonight, when she sees it once again flash across his face by the light of their campfire in the midst of conversation. Only now, she knows him well enough to put a name to it: fear. Valas is afraid — and, perhaps more importantly, Valas had been afraid, that first night when she’d turned him away without a second thought.

She leans into his shoulder, reaches over to take his hand and twine her fingers through his, and he glances down at her in question. It’s not the right time to discuss it — and so she says nothing, merely gives his hand a soft squeeze and settles more comfortably against him.

With the slightest one-shouldered shrug — which, coming from him, she is happy to construe as acceptance of her affections — he turns back to the others. Before long, the campfire dies down to embers and the conversation to sparse phrases and single-word answers. One by one, their companions excuse themselves to their respective tents, until Vierna and Valas are the only two left sitting there, staring into final glowing coals sizzling quietly against the eternally damp cavern floor.

And still she cannot bring herself to broach the subject, even as it claws its way into her gut, burrowing the guilt deeper inch by painful inch.

“I have the first watch,” Valas finally says. “Aren’t you tired?”

She shakes her head. “I’ll stay with you a while longer.”

“I’ll get us some more wood, then,” he murmurs and stands. “It’ll be cold soon.”

“Wait, Valas.” She’s on her feet before she knows it, taking his arm and pulling him around to face her.

And so he waits. And waits. And, finally, sighs, though he does an admirable job of trying to cover it. “What am I waiting for?”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“For…?” he prompts, raising a brow — whether in question or in amusement, she can’t quite tell.

“That night, on the beach by the nautiloid. Do you remember?”

He nods, and his mouth draws into a tighter line.

“You asked me about my parents, and I lied to you.”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes searching her face, until they finally come to rest on hers.

“I was afraid, and I thought I was protecting myself. But tonight, I realized…” she pauses — but no, they are past tiptoeing around each other by now. They have to be, after everything they’ve been through together. “You were afraid too, weren’t you?” She feels him stiffen under her hand, and she hurries to complete the thought. “I just wanted to say that I wish I’d seen it, then. I wish I’d helped you, then — but I didn’t.”

“It’s alright. It doesn’t matter.” He goes to turn back around, to head toward their pile of firewood, but that’s not how she wants to leave it — and so she steps into him to wrap her arms around him.

“It matters to me.”

She hears a sharp intake of breath, but the rebuke she half expects doesn’t follow — instead, he pulls her closer against his chest.

2. Comfort (@owls-den's Alisterius x my Malice II Do'Urden, Fake Dating AU)

“Please, my lady, it’s quite alright![," Alisterius said. "]I assure you, the fault was all mine. Perhaps you would indulge me, let me buy you a drink? To dispel your troubles, and to apologize for my boorish lack of care?”

What was it with this man and buying others drinks? Still, it got her closer to where she needed to be, and so she nodded — oh-so-demurely, of course, and still facing away from him. “Thank you, sir; you are most kind.”

He frowned ever so slightly before leaning to the side, gaze seeking hers as he softly, gently, swept the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “Are you sure you’re alright, my lady?”

She lifted her eyes — and found herself swept up, held in the embrace of an expression that was all silk and gossamer, not iron chains and biting shackles. His eyes were warm and brown, calm and comforting on hers, and his voice was… tender. He was tender.

It was moments of eternity that followed until she was finally able to find her way back to herself enough to swallow heavily. “Um…”

He smiled — and, that, too, was soft. “Might I inquire as to your name, my lady?”

“Malice.” The truth slipped out, unintentionally, unthinkingly, and the mistake broke whatever spell he’d cast over her. She pulled her hand from his grasp.

How could a mere man be so disarming?

He glanced up at her, brow furrowing in confusion as he straightened to tower over her once more. She hurried to rearrange her expression before he could ask if anything was wrong — she could not explain what had just happened even if she’d wanted to, and by the gods did she not want to.

Praise be to Lolth, he was all too eager to accept her smile with another of his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Alice.”

“No, it’s—” She stopped herself before she could stumble once more and ruin the blessing bestowed upon her by the cacophony of the tavern around them. “Yes, Alice. I’m Alice.” What in the Hells could this man have done to make her so quickly forsake the lessons her grandmother had etched into her skin — into her very bones? She needed to do better, to be better.

3. Tree (from the first chapter of Super Secret Fic Project! Moira Amell and Duncan heading to Ostagar)

For all he knew, she would be as useless a Warden as she was a mage, and he’d still taken pity on her.

Besides, no matter the cost of the Joining, it had to be better than the fate that would have awaited her if not for him. Irrationally, the thought made her feel better, and she nodded.

“Good girl,” he said, almost softly. He straightened to his full height, suddenly much more matter-of-fact: “and now, to business. There is a Warden in camp by the name of Alistair. He’s our most junior member, and so he will be in charge of helping you and the others prepare for your Joining. You should find him as soon as possible.”

“There are others?”

“Yes, we have two other new recruits here with us. You will all undertake the Joining together.” As he spoke, he moved off toward the camp, clearly expecting her to follow.

No sooner had she stepped beneath the next stone arch to do just that than she jolted to another sudden stop. What she had thought was a road ahead was, in truth, a bridge — which in and of itself would have been fine, were it not for the fact that it stretched over the steepest valley she had ever seen. Far, far, far below, a fine, gray mist swirled through the chasm, hurried along by the faintly howling wind so that it undulated almost like a river. But water it was not — the tops of a few fir trees, only just barely breaking through the soft tendrils of fog, ensured that it could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was: certain death, at least if her violently heaving stomach was to be believed.

Duncan turned around to look at her, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. “Is something the matter?”

Yes, something was the matter, and he clearly knew it. Still, she closed her eyes and shook her head vehemently, as if that would somehow help.

“This bridge is sturdy enough for armies, let alone two lone Wardens. There’s nothing to fear. Come.”

Footsteps clattered on stone as he moved off once again. Moira forced herself to open her eyes, muttering a foul word under her breath. Why did it have to be heights?

Still, Duncan was right — the bridge certainly looked strong enough. With a deep breath, she stepped forwards, keeping her eyes carefully on Duncan’s back and resolutely ignoring the renewed twist of her stomach.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dragon age #dragon age fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #duncan #valas devir #vierna #malice #moira amell #other people's ocs

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