#the hidden land: chapter 4

[theannotateddean]

“The bright day is done,” said Benjamin, as if Fence were personally responsible, “and we are for the dark.” “See to thy torches, then,” said Fence. Benjamin seemed a little taken aback; then, shocking Ted, he laughed. “Aye,” he said. “Fire is the test of gold.”

Chapter 4, The Hidden Land

Here, Benjamin is quoting the first part of a (translated) well-known saying by Seneca:

Latin: Ignis aurum probat, miseria fortes viros. Translation: Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of brave men.

This is clearly meant to reference the second half of the saying and give them all encouragement, while still playing off of Fence's original play on words.

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

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[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel 🩷

Masterlist - Taglist Form

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (6.5k words!)

LAST CHAPTER

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

(if you are in the mood for some Ghoap smut just go ahead)

Warnings: Poly, where do I begin? Oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, vaginal sex, meany Johnny, bottom Ghost, a squint of body worship to reader, threesome (duh), Ghost gets sandwiched for a bit, and Johnny doesn't shut up for a minute

It would be a reach to believe that everything was settled between the three. 

It has been “talked”, but there was still an awkward film over them; that whenever they would lock eyes felt like they were teenagers talking to their crushes. 

Gladly, for everyone, work was still work, and it kept them busy as always. 

The med bay keeping you away from them, on the completely opposite side of the base; taking care of whiny recruits and concealing your smile when they would tell you to tell their loved ones they love them after giving them local anaesthetic.

The days usually going uneventful and alone. Well, not alone. The medical team worked, ate and stayed together. But feeling lonely without the two men. 

On the south side of the base, everyone could tell that Simon and Johnny were a bit… snappy. 

It was almost as if everyone had made a deal to keep them from going to see you. 

Price telling them to organise the training session.

Recruits asking them to help with the training.

Laswell asking Johnny to prepare a lecture on explosives. 

Like? Why was the world making it so hard to slope off? Why was everyone expecting them to do their job they get paid for? 

Absolute nonsense.

Instead, they had to keep sending recruits that kept getting hurt to you. Seeing them whine as they walked, about how they were in pain. Lucky bastards.

So text messages it was. 

“Morning!🩷” Texts, voice notes as you worked on something else, GIFs and Stickers back and forth. 

Reminding Johnny how the newest smartphones worked was the funniest of the afternoon you had spent, especially when he turned on the front camera and he could only see from his eyes up. 

“Shite, that's a big ass forehead. Could land an heli there”

Cue to Simon and you playing tic-tac-toe on his forehead via pics back and forth.

It was far, really far, for a conventional relationship, even for a poly relationship. And although whenever Johnny would managed to send a pic of Simon it made you feel you were an outsider to them; you had to remind yourself that he had taken the photo just to send it to you.

Slowly but surely, your gallery was filling up with pics of their faces, an obscene amount of Johnny's forehead pic as well, and when finally, the inexhaustible flow of scratched soldiers finally started to subdue; you bolted to Simon's room. 

You don't even think of an excuse as to why you are going to see them, and you realize, half way there… that you don't need an excuse. And that simply wanting to see them is a reason good enough. 

It hasn't been easy after the conversations, your mind still telling you they were using you; it was not something you simply forget after a good night sleep. But you still pushed yourself to believe them, that there wasnt any hidden intentions, that they were telling the truth.

The messages, the little calls, the sassy winks from across the training grounds, it all help to ease the feeling of intruding you had been feeling since catching them. Slowly but surely travelling to the back of your mind, to the box of things to be forgotten. Except the box spilled suddenly when you open the door to his room, and find them sitting on his bed.

With Johnny sitting on top of Simon's lap, grinding down against his groyne while their moans and whispers fall on eachother mouths.

Their head whip in your direction at the sound of the door opening. You can see the panic in their eyes, thinking they have been caught; relaxing only when they realize it is you. 

“Shit, wow, sorry, I need to start knocking, ah?” You ask, with an awkward chuckle, you hand still on the knob. “S-sorry, I'll leave you to it.”

You barely move the door an inch before Johnny calls for you. “Bonnie, wait!’

“What?” You ask, still from the door, cheeks red from embarrassment.

“Do you… do you want to join?” Johnny asks, a shyness so improper of him. Looking at you, with a hand on Simon's shoulder and the other extended to you. 

You feel frozen in place. It was something that was going to happen, sooner or later. It shouldn't have caught so much surprise, but you only find your voice when Johnny stands up to walk towards you. “Do… Do you want me to join??” You ask, looking up at him with a timid voice.

“Yes, fuck, yeah we do.”  He answers, a deep chuckle flooding between words. He licks his lips, probably wet from Simon's mouth. His hand still waiting for yours, his eyes soft, awaiting your answer.

“Oh…” You answer, you know, like an idiot. “Okay.” You finally hold his hand and he pulls you closer, a tiny smile on his face. 

From the corner of your eyes you can see Simon move to lay down on the bed, his back pressed to the wall, laying on his side and patting the mattress next to him. Johnny nods with his head towards Simon, telling you to lay down without words and you do. Almost skipping to the bed, crawling to move next to Englishman.

“I like your uniform, lass.” Johnny comments, his wide hand caressing your ass over the clothes. 

You lay down, hugging Simon closely with your head in his chest, buried safely in his arms. And you turn your head to look at Johnny, faux offence in your look. “Respect the uniform, MacTavish.”

Simon's chest rumbles when he laughs deeply, his hand finding his way under your shirt to rub the skin of your back; just like when he found you in the house, pulling you even closer. 

“Darling…” Johnny says, laying himself next to you, sandwiching you between the two men. “I'm about to disrespect your uniform… a lot.”

He uses the lifted shirt from Simon's hand to get his own against your skin; caressing your tummy up to your chest, but still innocent when he only uses it as leverage to push you against him when he feels the need to kiss your cheek squishing your face against Simon's chest.

You giggle against Simon's chest, whining about being squished and slightly pushing Johnny back. He raises his head, being levelled with Simon and looking down at you; they then look up to each other before Simon leans in kissing Johnny. 

You are seeing it upside down, but still clear as day the desire in the kiss. Simon leaned in, eyes closed and you felt his hand on your back lift a finger to hook it on Johnny's sweatpants to pull him closer. Johnny has his eyes just the slightest bit open, barely enough to see the other and he smiles into the kiss.

“Eager, aren't ya?” Johnny whispers, making Simon groan. 

“Shut up, Johnny.” He mumbles back, the hand on your back moving to Johnny's back pulling him closer squashing you in the middle. “I finally have you both”.

When Simon pulls Johnny closer, you feel both of his bulging erections against your body; the make out session clearly intense. 

It makes you turn, switching to lay on your back, still looking up. Simon moves to kiss down Johnny's jaw, kissing his neck, licking up to his ear; Johnny catches you staring, head falling back and mouth open as you shamelessly look at the two men making out, and he winks at you.

You quickly look down, ashamed of getting caught, and you realise then what the weight on your thighs was. On each side of your body, and still trapped in the confines of their sweatpants, both men's growing boners rest over your thighs. 

You feel small between the two massive men, and your hands move on their own when you rest them over the tents on their pants. You press them against your body, making both men groan. You move your hand up, grabbing the waistband pulling it down with their underwear. The thick, uncut member resting freely over your body. 

It's not the first time that you have seen either of them, but it is still a sight to see them side by side. Bobbing at the lack of attention, a tear of precum glistering on Simon's tip. 

You hear Simon talk above you, making you look up to see Johnny looking at you. “Let her do her thing…” is what Simon whispers to Johnny, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss again. 

Using your elbows to push your back off the mattress, you slide down the bed; your legs hanging from it when you get your head on the same level as their hips. You turn your head, setting your lips around the pinkish tip of Simon's shaft; hearing a grunt at the same time you feel a snap of his hips, not being able to prevent himself from moving. 

You use your hand to massage Johnny's too, feeling the warm feeling of his skin in your hand; while you use the tip of your tongue to lick on Simon's slit, tasting his precum as you hear him whimper into Johnny's mouth. 

With a loud pop, you let go of his shaft, only his head glistering with spit; and your turn your head to give the same treatment to Johnny. Except he lays his wide hand on the side of your head, making you lay your head back on the mattress. 

“Stick yer tongue out, love” You do as he says, keeping your mouth open and your tongue out, the muscle twitching trying to stay still. Johnny fists his length at the base, giving it a whip for it to slap at your tongue. 

The wet sound is nasty, the head of his member slapping your tongue. Johnny can feel your warm breath against his dick, feeling your saliva get stuck to him as well. Whenever he lifts it he sees the string of spit from your mouth pulling him back. 

He switches motions, starting to glide his hips back and forward against your mouth. Simon's doesn't take long to join, only adding to the mess. You have your eyes closed, blinding tasting both men's scent, the musky smell leaving you lightheaded as they thrust smoothly back and forth, against each other and your tongue. 

There is drool falling for the corner of your mouth, only making it more and more nasty. And the moans, grunts and whimpers coming from the men beside you has you sliding your hand down your body, towards where you feel your body crying for attention.

Except Simon, still in his pleasure driven mind, catches the movement, calling your mind. “Love, how are you going to have the two of us dying to touch you and still private us from it?” 

The sound of his voice has you opening your eyes again, looking up at them and you can feel them twitching at the sight of such a blasphemous look. Your eyes blown wide and pitch black from arousal, a mess of spit, precum and sweat all over the middle half of your face, their wet and painfully hard members resting now over your chest, rising up and down harshly and your hand under the waistband of your pants. “I don't know…”

“Do you want us to touch you?” Johnny asks, his hand petting your head again softly and you nod timidly. “Words, bonnie.”

“Yes, please…”

“Let's take that respectable uniform off then.” Johnny jokes, patting the bed to motion you to move back up between them. You push yourself up,nestling between their bodies once again, and as if they had practised it before, they undress you at the same time they kiss you. 

Simon is the first to have his lips on your, his hand cupping your jaw drawing circles with his thumbs. You hum into his mouth, feeling Johnny lick your neck, his tongue slipping between Simon's fingers as he starts to lift your shirt. 

He moves down, sitting on his knees and kissing your tummy. His warm tongue getting a taste of your skin with each kiss. He pushes the fabric up, letting it wrinkle over your chest, groaning at the look of your sports bra. 

Simon peels from you when he feels Johnny grumble about wanting to take them off. He takes the hem from Johnny's hand, pulling it over your head and Johnny doesn't waste the opportunity to do the same to your bra, leaving you bare from waist up. 

And like a chain reaction both of them make their way to your breasts; Simon's kisses travel from behind your ear down to the swell of your breast, kissing your ribs before finally sucking your nipple into his mouth moaning at the feeling. While Johnny kisses your stomach again, burying his face on the softness of it, as he swiftly goes north, dragging his tongue from the underside to the side of your boob, before mimicking Simon and kissing your nipple. 

Is also Johnny's hand the one that starts to run down your body, if it wasn't for the filthy sounds of kisses, licks and slurping filling in the room, you could hear the sound of the callous skin of Johnny's hand rubbing against the soft skin of your body. It is only when you feel his fingertips go under the waistband that you speak. 

“Wait!” 

And as if they had been electrocuted they both peel back, looking at your face. Except instead of explaining you stand up, jumping over Johnny to walk towards the door. 

Johnny is quick on his feet, panicking that you will run; not because you couldn't go out but because they were afraid of having pushed you too far. 

Still, he stops on his track when instead you lock the door. That was still unlocked. And turn to them, looking over your shoulder almost bashful. “You are not expecting anyone else, are you?”

Simon sighs relieved, sitting on the edge of the bed, that they had not overstepped. “Nah… got everyone we need in here.” 

He motions you to walk to him, wanting you to stand between his legs and you oblige; pulling Johnny's hand when you walk past him. 

You stand between Simon's legs, Johnny standing behind you hugging your middle. Simon kisses your stomach on the parts not covered by Johnny's hand and slowly lowers your pants. You kick off your shoes at the same time, standing completely naked between them. 

Simon leans forwards, pressing his nose against your mound and sliding his tongue between your folds making you shudder. Johnny's hands travel higher, kneading your boobs in his hands while he buries his face on your neck. 

You let your head fall back on Johnny's shoulder, moaning when Simon's tongue rubs against your clit. Johnny pities Simon, pulling one of your legs up to the side, giving full access to Simon who doesn't waste a second before diving in and dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit giving it a harsh suck making you buck your hips as you fist his hair on your hand. 

Johnny shushes in your hear, his other hand travelling to your core from behind; touching you along Simon's tongue. And while Simon's focus is on your clit, sending shockwaves up your body, Johnny slides one of his fingers onto your weeping cunt.

“Fuck yer tight…” Johnny moans into your ear. “Are you gonnae choke my dick this hard or is it only cause Simon sucking you off, hm?” 

Your only response is a moan in the shape of Simon's name, making both men chuckle. Johnny fits a second finger inside of you making you whimper as you start to move your hips from Simon's mouth to Johnny's hand and vice versa. Johnny starts to move his hand, finger getting sucked in whenever he tries to get the out; your wetness rolling down between his fingers when he scissors them inside and Simon notices, moving down to lick Johnny's hand, tongue dragging between his fingers and inside of you. 

When you look down, the only part of Simon's face you can see is his eyes, closed in blissful satisfaction at the feel and taste of your cunt on his mouth. 

Both of them feel you clench, your first orgasm of the night approaching. And it doesn't matter how happy he is to finally be together, of you forgiving them, of wanting to pay you back for saving him; Johnny is not skipping an opportunity to tease you. “Coming already, lass? Bit needy, weren't ye?”

You chuckle between moans, biting back. “Yeah… unlike you two little dickheads, shit! I-I haven't gotten laid in a minute… fuck…”

Simon chuckles against your cunt, knowing perfectly fine he deserves way worse than that and focusing on keeping you mind off of it. Johnny does just the same, curling his finger and kissing your neck helping you fall over the edge with a loud moan. 

You slide down, Johnny helping you rest on your knees between Simon legs with your head resting on his thigh. Simon pets your head, moving your hair out of your face. You open your eyes, coming face to face with his still rock hard member, and you look up to Simon, questioning. 

“Back for more already, love?” He asks, deep chuckle on his chest when you nod blushing just a bit. Johnny laughs too behind you, pulling Simon's hand slightly. 

“I have an idea. Stand up, Lt.” Johnny says, kneeling beside you and helping Simon take off his pants. “Two heads are better than one, ain't that right?” 

Simon stands before the two of you, looking down and finding both you looking up at him; getting distracted by his mouth watering length just in front of you. 

And at the sight of his two little zombies, back from the grave, the two only person that Simon has given himself the freedom to love, the only two person Simon let himself cry for after burying you, the two only person he has truly love; Simon can't contain the tear that drops from his right eye.

He tries to hide it, throwing his head back; but you see it, see the tear glisten as it drops on your cheek. But you don't say anything, and neither does Johnny when he wipes it with his thumb. 

You lean forward, leaving open mouth kisses at the base of his shaft while you feel Johnny suck on his tip. It makes Simon groan, the angle of his neck making it sound raspier. 

You move towards the tip, feeling Johnny's hand rest on your nape. When you are face to face with him, you feel his tongue move under Simon's dick, looking for your mouth. Pushing towards the tip to be able to finally kiss you, the open mouth kiss revolving in kissing Simon’s tip almost like it was a third tongue involved. And although it almost feels like excluding Simon, the sight of his two lovers kissing around his cock has him moving his hips against your lips; smearing the spit over both of your cheeks again. 

Johnny pulls back, making you whine against Simon's dick. “Open wide, love.” Johnny tells you, moving behind you and cupping your face from behind. 

Johnny holds your head as Simon lets his dick easily slide over your tongue, and when you close your lips around his length Johnny pushes his thumbs on your cheeks, making Simon feel the pressure on his length. He groans, feeling your throat open around his length to accommodate him as he moves deeper inside of your mouth.

“Easy now, you both.” Simon mumbles when he sees your eyes water as he moves down your throat. Johnny chuckles letting go of your head as he moves, switching to stand behind Simon.

Simon follows him with his gaze, aware already of his plan and the scot has the nerve to wink at him before diving between his cheeks. He rests a hand on the back of yours and Johnny's head, moaning at the double stimulation. 

Johnny is ravenous on the way he eats him out, fingertips digging on the meat of his asscheeks spreading them, his unquenchable thirst for making Simon moan driving him to push his tongue deeper.

While you on the other side keep pushing forward, your nose closer and closer to his pubic bone, your soft hands massaging his heavy balls screaming for release as you keep sucking him in making him whimper.

There is a point, when Johnny's tongue is so deep and your nose is squished against his happy trail, your tongue sticking to lick at his balls, that Simon feels his knees buckle. 

“Wait, wait, darling.” He whimpers, pulling your head back with a hand on your cheek pushing back softly. “You too, mutt!” He says, grabbing Johnny's mohawk to pull him back without actual strength. “I want to switch… Lay down on the bed for me, love. On your back, raise your legs.” He says, petting your head and you nod as you start to move, stealing a kiss from Johnny's mouth as your crawl passes him. 

You lay just like he told you, propping on your elbows to caress his face when he kneels before you. You smile. “In need of some more, pussy boy?” You ask, overconfident in yourself; quickly falling back when Simon runs his hot tongue from your ass to your clit, flat, splitting your lips and making you moan. 

Simon chuckles, before turning his head back to look at Johnny over his shoulder, using his hand to spread his cheeks. “It ain't gonna prep itself, Johnny.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” Johnny says chuckling, slapping Simon's ass before standing up and going to his bag. Both Simon and you look at him, wondering what his intentions are and you smile when you see him pick the lube bottle from his back. 

Simon rolls his eyes when Johnny shakes the bottle at him, teasingly. Johnny kneels behind him, slapping his ass again but keeps his hand on the taut meat to pull it apart. He moves down, kissing down his back to his already spit covered hole. 

Simon sighs at the feeling, leaning on your touch when you pet his head, kissing your wrist before diving back into your folds. Sliding his tongue in circles around your clit, softly sucking it into his mouth.

It is quite the sight to have Simon on his hands and knees in front of you, eating you out and drinking your juices up like a puppy while you see Johnny's head peek over the curve on his ass.

You keep your hand on Simon's head, brushing his hair back as he hums against your cunt. Ah… Johnny's tongue… you are familiar with the feeling. 

So you don't blame him when he stills on his movements, tongue falling out of his mouth without care as he moans at Johnny's tactics. Instead, you plant your feet on the edge of the bed, using your hand to grab Simon's hair and slowly start to grind against his face. 

You see his eyes widen for a second when he looks up at you, not expecting being downgraded to a ribbed mat to grind against. Not that he cared too much, not with the moans falling so prettily from your mouth and not with the way you so desperately cling to his hair.

He's embarrassed of himself, of the weak excuse of head he's giving you. He should be lapping up your weeping cunt like a parched dog at its bowl, and instead he is just slobbering all over your pretty folds, barely able to suck at your clit. 

But he can't focus any better, not when Johnny's tongue is curling inside of him in a way that has him wanting to push himself back onto his mouth, eyes threatening to roll back in his skull. He tried his utmost effort not to whine when he feels Johnny retrieving his tongue, moving back to his knees.

Johnny pops the bottle open, splattering a generous glob of lube between Simon's cheeks, making him grunt at the coldness. Johnny chuckles at him, his fingertip teasing at his entrance, pushing the lube in and he leans on Simon's shoulder. “Aww, bit too chilly for ye, Si?”

“Get at it already.” Simon grunts as an answer when you pull his head back, the tip of his ears red with embarrassment and lust. Johnny lands his free hand on the back of his head, pushing his face back against your cunt. 

“You get at it, eejit. Got bonnie bored out of her mind, making her do all the work.” He teases Simon. You slap his hand, scolding him; not wanting Simon to feel bad. But Simon notices the way your ankles are shaking from holding yourself up grinding against him, and he moves his hands from the ground to around your hips, pushing you against his face. 

He is resting on his elbows, holding your cunt at level with his mouth as he dives him right between glistering folds. Shaking his head in, his nose smushed against your clit, bending with each shake making your legs buckle; he slides his tongue in, curling it and feeling every rib of your walls drowning down on your taste. 

Johnny smiles when your moans rise in volume, your head falling back, he lets go of Simon's head while petting his head like a dog. “Atta boy.” He rests his hand on Simon's shoulder, leaning to kiss his back as he slides a finger in. 

Simon's eyes flutter closed, feeling his ass suck Johnny's finger in. He moans against your core, not relenting on his assault and soon enough Johnny is sliding a second finger. The stretch making him arch his back; and Johnny starts to pick up the pace, smiling when he notices Simon roll his hips to meet his fingers. 

“Look at you, Simon… getting all loose and soft for us… you can’t wait to get fucked stupid, can you?” Johnny smiles, kissing Simon's shoulder.

But Simon is struggling, he desperately wants to get you off before doing so himself. He really is trying his best, but when he tries to keep himself from coming he clenches around Johnny's fingers only making it worse. 

He can feel you are close, sucking his tongue in when you grip him, just a couple seconds more, he knows it. And then Johnny curls his fingers sneakily and Simon is coming all over the ground, moaning loudly against your awaiting cunt, unable to move and ruining your orgasm making you want to cry. 

He feels bad, he feels really bad for doing you dirty like that. Johnny only laughs softly, just for him to start moving his fingers at light speed making Simon whine as he crawls towards you, away from Johnny who only follows him. 

Simon hides his face in your stomach, moaning loudly at Johnny's attack, his fingernails digging into your thigh at the overstimulation. You whine Johnny's name, your cunt still spasming with the ruined release and Johnny finally pulls his hand back, slapping Simon’s ass.

“Move to the bed, Lt. You so fucking massive I can't even reach our girl.” Johnny says, teasing him even further as he moves to lay on his back on the mattress. Johnny stands up to finally take off his clothes, moving to kneel between his legs, grasping Simon's softening dick on his hand making it slap against his abdomen. “Look at you, Lt… I thought you promised our girl a nice fuck, what are you going to do with this?”

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon says, moving his hand to caress your leg from where you are sitting next to him. “Just need a minute…” he mumbles. 

Johnny spreads his legs, collecting the lube sliding down Simon's crack with the bulbous tip of his length before probing at his entrance. “In the meantime… Fuck, Si… C’mon, pretty boy… Open wide for me.”.

He starts to push forward, pushing Simon's legs as well against his chest, bending him in half. It knocks the air out of him, making throw his head back with the mouth open on a silent scream of pleasure. 

He feels filled to the brim, and he hisses when Johnny starts to move his hand up and down his shaft. And although it is borderline painful, he can help the moans that fall from his lips when Johnny rolls his hips against his. 

“Singing like a pretty bird, you are, Si…” Johnny comments, looking at you and seeing how you discreetly try to slide your hand between your legs, desperate for the release. Their poor girl, their poor sweet girl. Her two lovers right beside her and still feeling neglected of the attention she so badly deserves; too sweet to even ask for it. “Ride his face, darling. Don't mind if he can't breathe, that's what he gets for leaving you hanging.”

At the sound of his voice you instinctively close your legs, moving when you see him move his head to point to Simon's head; only to be met by his heart shaped pupils with his hand extended to you calling you in. 

You move, sliding your legs over his head as you hoist yourself over him and look between your legs, seeing Simon laying with his mouth wide open, tongue resting over his lower lip waiting for you to sit down on him. When you take too long to do so, Simon grabs your hips, offended by the distance, pulling you down against his face, making you rest your hands on his chest. 

He doesn't care to breathe, and if this is the way he dies? Well, he can't think of a more glorious way to go out. 

Johnny snaps his hips, making Simon move and therefore grind his face against your cunt. And the harmonious moans sound to him just like a starting shot. He starts to roll his hips, picking up the pace and making the thrusts hard enough to make Simon bounce at them. 

The moment Simon mouth is back on focusing on your core, you feel your orgasm turn around embarrassingly quick, moans and whines slipping past your lips in abundance. Grinding your hips once again against Simon's face who's moaning back just as much. Your body easily forgetting the offence of having gotten your release pulled away so harshly.

Johnny leans forward kissing you feverishly, making you cling to his shoulders as you moan in his mouth. He feels guilty too, it was his doing what made Simon unable to function, even if it makes him proud how easily he can get the man undone. So to silence his guilt, he lowers his hand, dragging it down on your body, until he reaches your clit; rubbing tight circles making you wail into his mouth. 

“Fuck… Fuck, I'm gonna… Shit!” You close your eyes, letting your face fall into his neck, your legs shaking around Simon's head against his tight hold of your thighs with anticipation and you finally feel the coil in your inside snap. And out of everytime that Simon has been waterboarded this is definitely his favourite, drinking up every drop you are willing to give him. 

You gasp for hair, your body shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm and Johnny moves his hand to your waist, keeping you up. “Good girl, what a fucking good girl you are, love. We are so fucking lucky to have you.” He slows down on his pace, helping you lay on Simon's body and letting Simon's legs rest around his hips so you can rest your head; your legs still over his neck, not that he minds it; leaving kisses on the back of your thigh wetting your skin with the moistness of his face.

Johnny pets your head resting on Simon's abdomen, stilling on his movements to wait for your answer. A shiver runs down your body as you mutter “fuck”, making both chuckle and you look up to Johnny.

“You broken, baby?” He asks, smiling. 

“Not yet, Johnny.” You answer, wrapping your hand around Simon's still soft dick to lazily lick his tip; pulling back the skin to slide your tongue over his slit to taste his salty seed that ended up wasted on the floor. Johnny looks up to Simon, seeing how he tightly closes his eyes, throwing his head back with a deep groan.

It's the mix of Johnny's ridiculously thick cock rubbing against his prostate on each thrust and your warm mouth engulfing him in that makes him start to chub up at a record speed of refractory period. 

You feel it in your mouth, how each bob of your head has your jaw stinging more and more. You look up to Johnny, staring at you in awe at the way you swallow the massive dick of Simon, timing his thrust with your movements. “Yer a fucking eye candy, love.” He says, caressing your cheek. “I can't fucking wait to see yer pretty face every morning.”

He moves his hand to the back of your head, keeping it in place when you have Simon's dick stuffing your throat and he rolls his hips deeper, as deep as he can; leaning his body forward just to feel your forehead rest over his pubic bone. 

He pulls back, letting you move back as you pull Simon's cock out of your throat letting it fall on Simon's abdomen with a wet thud, his length finally on his full size again, spit connecting it to your lips as you breathe harshly. Simon groans, the air of the room cold in comparison with your warm mouth.

Johnny picks you up, making you sit over Simon's dick with your back pressed against his chest. “Are you gonna ride his dick like a good girl, love? Hm? Gonna help me fuck him silly?” He asks, making you nod as you whine at his words. 

You move a hand down, wrapping it around Simon's base and sitting down on it. The wetness of his length and the arousal still dripping from your cunt the only relief of the stretch of his dick. 

You sit down smoothly, moaning incoherent words as you use your hand to rest on Simon's chest. And for Simon it is too much, never has he felt this full and wrapped so tight on his life. The only reason why he hasn't cum already being his dick being barely back to life.

He looks up, at how Johnny is hugging you from behind, hiding his face on your neck and whispering praises while he keeps thrusting forwards. At how you have your head resting on Johnny's shoulder, the prettiest noises falling from your mouth as you slide up and down his length. 

His two lovers, finally with him, and as close as he can. He wants to cry again, except this time is also for the overstimulation. He whines, weakly moving his hips to meet both Johnny's and your movement. 

But he can't, his balls stuck between you and Johnny clenching with the need of release. He can hold it much longer but he needs to hold it, for you, for Johnny. 

Johnny was right when back in th car he told him he was going to break the moment you joined the picture, how the two of you were going to fuck him stupid. Fucking Johnny. 

But Simon is not the only one affected, he sees how Johnny's eyebrows furrow, trying his best to keep himself from coming undone, holding himself back so nicely like the good boy he is. So Simon can't let him updo him, resting his hands on your hips; moving his thumb lower to circle your clit. 

Johnny's hands move lower, interlocking his fingers with Simon's on your hips; using you to push Simon back against his hips. 

And like a chain reaction, when you finally fall over the edge with a silent scream as little white dots fill your vision, Simon spurs thick ropes of his seed deep into your cunt when he feels you clench. Leaving Johnny freedom to snap his hips fast against him looking for his release, moaning beautifully when he also spills deep inside of Simon. 

You lay over Simon's chest, Johnny laying next to Simon and pulling you in the middle, kissing your shoulder. The warmth from both bodies surrounding you making you feel the safest you have ever been.

It’s a comfortable silence, basking on the afterglow of an amazing session that has left the three of you unable to move right. Three pairs of legs tangled together, Johnny's arm over your body keeping you close to Simon and him. The silence only breaks when you speak. 

“Does this mean we are dating now?” The question making the both of them chuckle.

“We haven't gone on a date.” Simon points out.

“Do you want to go on a date?” Johnny asks behind you. 

“Yeah! I would love to.” You say smiling widely.

And after learning all his life how to hate, Simon finally had reasons to teach himself how to love. Because all this new range of emotions, of wants, of needs, of reasons to smile, to wake up in the morning; the origin of it all are lying right next to him, talking about where they want to go on said date. 

Simon Riley was a man that died years ago, the soldier nicknamed as Ghost pulling his corspe out of his grave. And after so many years of killing, torturing and ignoring every human emotion from his cold heart; he is finally starting to see himself in the mirror. 

The three of them having their own strange death, still coming back with more of their pieces intact, and getting drawn together like a magnet. Maybe it was just normal, no one can understand what is like to die as good as somebody who has done it too, maybe it was destiny way to apologise to almost actually killing them; or maybe it was simply and normal attraction that started the moment every one of them met the rest, and the three were too prideful, too coward or too insecure to actually recognise the feelings as such. 

And maybe, in the future, when Johnny’s memory is complete again; he will admit to them how he started to have slim flashbacks of them before the accident. Glimpses of their faces, of nicknames, of kisses on the cheeks, of sighs leaving his mouth when watching them. But for now, he will keep them to himself, and rather that reminiscent on those past memories; he will build new ones, as his, and not as the man he was before the accident. 

Many things could have gone differently if the tunnel had fallen on him, and luckily it didn't; because after all, well, he wasn't on that tunnel.

That's all, people.

Hope you enjoyed the "mini" serie, mini because in 5 chapters I wrote almost 25k words. But I hope you enjoyed every one of them just as much as I did. 🩷

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[sweetfictionalworld]

Bound For Life - Chapter 1

Pairing: OC!Orc x Human Female Reader

Summary: Your life is nothing exciting. Until one day when you encounter a creature in the forest and your life is changed forever.

Warnings: Nsfw! Smut, Orc Sex, Monster Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Size kink.

Author's notes: Okay, so this is my first time writing and posting anything original. I hope this is good enough to post and that a few out there will like it.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Life had never consisted of anything exciting or interesting for you. As you grew up to be an independent young woman after the death of your parents, you found yourself living quite a boring life. Living alone in a small cottage in the forest outside the village, you worked at the local Inn. Every day was the same as the other. Meeting the same people, having the same dull conversation.

Little did you know, it was soon about to change.

You knew of the creatures in the world, of the elves and trolls, goblins ad orcs, but you'd never encountered one. Their lands were far away from the humans, so distant it felt like a fairytale red to spellbound children.

It was late at night after another shift. You walked through the dark and murky forest, following the stone path to your home. Suddenly, your skin tingled and your eyes flickered as your breath deepened, inhaling more air. Your footsteps slowed down as you listened with great intensity, couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You looked behind you, expecting your eyes to connect with a rodent, a wolf, or a bird, but nothing was there. Nothing but a lingering knowing. Looking onward again, you quickened your steps this time, hoping to escape the constant feeling of being followed by watchful eyes.

*

Yolmar hid in the darkness of the forest, watching the fragile, little female figure walking the path through the woods. He had never seen a human before. His head tilted, nostrils flaring as he felt the smell of your fear. It was almost like hunting a deer.

Yolmar had never been this far away from home. As he came of age, Yolmar was sent to explore the world to find a suitable mate. He never expected that it was the sent of a human that would awaken his interest.

A sudden crack made him look to the side, his pulse quickening at seeing the wolf sneaking up on you. His eyes snapped back to you, then back to the wolf, his instincts taking over when the animal suddenly lunged towards you.

*

It all happened so fast. Despite your senses being on high alert, you barely had time to react when you heard the crack of a breaking tree branch behind you. Twirling around, you stared at the wolf galloping towards you. Your scream didn't have time to leave your lips before the wolf was knocked to the ground by an enormous, green-skinned humanlike creature. You stared at the scene before you, unable to move as the creature wrapped his muscular arm around the wolf's neck and broke it. The green beast dropped the lifeless wolf to the ground, its chest heaving with heavy breaths as he turned his attention to you, staring at you with yellow, intense eyes.

From the stories told to you as a child, you knew that it was an orc.

You thought you would die on the spot as the orc moved closer, its heavy footsteps booming in your ears in pace with the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

"You okay?" the orc spoke, his voice guttural as he struggled to speak your tongue. You blinked, once, twice, as you stared up at this monstrous beast before you. His yellow eyes examined you with what you could only describe as...concern? He was tall, probably close to 6,6, his bare-chested upper body flexing with muscles as he breathed heavily.

You nodded at his question, couldn't find your voice as your gaze dropped to his loincloth, your face heating up as you imagined what was hidden beneath. What on earth possessed you to think such inappropriate thoughts in the face of death? You looked up again, your eyes following the shape of the black mohawk on his head, down his pointy ears, and the two tusks protruding from his bottom lips.

"Good," the orc answered to your nod, his gaze slowly roaming down the shape of your body, and you found yourself blushing. Why did he make you feel so utterly naked and bare?

"Uhm...t-thank you. For...for saving me," you finally managed to say, your voice shaking as much as your heart pounding in your chest.

The orc nodded, a smirk ghosting across his lips as he looked back up to your face and met your gaze.

"W-what are y-you doing here? I-I mean, s-so far away from your homeland?" you asked, not knowing where you got the courage to speak. Good lord, this was so unreal. Were you actually having a conversation with an orc?

"I left my clan to search for a mate," the orc replied, taking a step closer to you as he gazed at you leeringly. "I am Yolmar. What's your name, little human?"

You stared up at him, unable to breathe at his closeness and the lustful glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-Y/n...," you croaked and wetted your lips, scared of what might happen next.

"Well, y/n..." Yolmar placed his forefinger under your chin, lifting it up and forcing you to hold his gaze. "I believe you owe me for saving you."

Holding your breath, you felt a heat rush through your core as you looked into his piercing, yellow eyes.

"I-I...w-what do you want?" you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"You. As my mate."

Your eyes widened as you kept staring up into his eyes. Your ears were buzzing, mind unfocused on everything except the word coming from his lips.

Mate.

"W-What?" you flickered your eyes, the nervous beating of your heart increasing. "W-What do you mean?"

"It's your scent. I could smell it from miles away, the way only a mate could sense it. You and I are mates, destined to be together. I must confess I was disappointed at first that you're not an orc. But now that I see you, how tempting your soft and tiny body is, I can't wait to claim you. To make you mine."

Yolmar smirked and leaned down to your ear, inhaling your scent. A growl of appreciation rumbled in his chest, and the sound along with his hot breath on your skin caused a trail of goosebumps down your body. You couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe how willing your body was to accept him when your mind was still trying to protest. Yolmar's finger left your chin and slid down the nape of your neck, sending another wave of goosebumps down your skin. A keen whimper slipped from your lips and you became shamefully aware of the arousal pooling between your thighs. Yolmar growled at the sound coming from your lips, his hand landing on your waist, covering your entire hip.

"P-Please don't, I can't...," you begged, hated the uncertainty in your voice and how your body betrayed you, aching and throbbing to feel him inside you.

"I can smell your arousal, human," he growled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, coaxing an embarrassed moan from your lips. Yolmar snickered. "You want me as much as I want you."

His hand found its way underneath your dress and undergarments, two of his long, thick fingers slipping between your soft folds and into your wet, spongy core. You gasped and grabbed his big arms as his fingers stretched you out.

"So wet and tight," Yolmar mumbled and started moving his fingers inside you, grunting at the squishing sounds your pussy was making. His cock jerked at the feeling of your wetness, twitching, and hardening to life, eager to fill your tight, little cunt to the brim.

"Oh fuck," you gasped at the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, didn't understand why you didn't stop this stranger, this monster, from doing this to you. Most of all, you didn't understand why you wanted him to do this, why your body seemed to crave his touch. Maybe it was true what he said? That the two of you were destined to be mates.

"Such foul words coming from such a sweet, little thing," Yolmar chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core. "Tell me, my little human...Do you crave my cock inside you?" At the last word, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, pushing against your g-spot and you screamed out in pleasure.

"Y-Yes! Please, yes," you whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeatedly thrust his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

Yolmar grinned and took out his fingers from your pussy, his hands violently ripping the dress from your body, leaving you only in your undergarments. You gasped, wanted to cover your bare chest when the orc stared at your breasts but didn't have time to react before his calloused hand cupped your tits. "Pretty," was all he said and kneaded the soft flesh, felt the weight of them in his hands, and rubbed his rough thumbs across your nipples that hardened at his touch.

"P-Please," you begged, bit your lip at the feeling of your pussy aching and clenching desperately to be filled.

Yolmar lifted his gaze, his yellow eyes filled with hunger as he removed his loincloth. Your gaze dropped, widened when you saw his enormous, engorged member pulsating and leaking with precum as it stood proudly in a curve up against his stomach.

"Oh, fuck...," you whispered, wondering how it would ever fit inside you at the same time as your pussy twitched at the sight of him.

Yolmar chuckled at the frightened wonder on your face. "Don't worry, little one. It will fit. If we take it slowly. Now, get down on your hands and knees."

You obeyed on trembling legs, jerked and gasped when he ripped the undergarments from your body and grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling your ass up in the air. Then, you felt him at your entrance, slowly pushing the bulbous head between your fold and into the tight hole of your pussy. Your eyes widened, breath coming out in short gasps through your parted lips.

"So tight. So fucking tight and small," Yolmar mumbled and howled in pleasure when the head of his cock suddenly popped inside your warm, wet entrance. At that point, he couldn't control himself anymore. Grabbing your hips harder, he bucked his hips against your ass, pushing his cock into you halfway before pulling back. You cried out, back arching and head thrown back as his huge cock stretched out more than you thought was possible. Then, he thrust forward again and you screamed a silent moan, realizing he had only been halfway inside you and he was now fully seated in your womb.

"Feels so good...so good, my sweet, little human," he crooned, almost lovingly, as he started a slow and gentle pace of fucking you, claiming you as his mate. Your vision got blurrier with each of his thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Soon, your mind became dazed and numbed, and a smile spread across your lips when all you cared about was how absolutely divine his cock felt inside you. You could feel the pressure building in your core with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. Then, the orc suddenly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, of feeling so empty inside.

Yolmar pulled out and positioned himself above you, on his hands and feet as he pushed inside you again, his massive frame hovering above yours as he thrust into you. You moaned when Yolmar pushed back into you again, smiled as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You looked into his eyes and held his gaze as he quickened the pace once more, rapidly shoving his dick inside you over and over until your senses were overflowing.

Yolmar looked back into your eyes as he slammed into you hard and fast, rougher with each thrust. The slapping sounds filled the forest, blending with your high-pitched moans and the orc's snarling growls above you. The pressure in your belly intensified and finally erupted just as you felt the orc pump into you a final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came. His cock twitched inside you and the feeling of his seed pulsing into you brought you swiftly over the edge, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop out of him. Yolmar threw his head back, his loud, guttural growl echoing through the forest as he emptied his seed inside your belly. You collapsed onto the ground, panting for air and your body becoming limp as you felt his cum flow out of you, creating a white river on the dirty ground between your thighs.

"Mine," he muttered quietly and out of breath as he picked up your exhausted body.

Yours. You smiled tiredly when Yolmar cradled you in his arms, and he started walking down the path leading to your cottage.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Shadow and Paws

Chapter 3: Trust and Territory

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

AU: Hybrid 141 x reader

Warning: Mild Violence/Tension, Injury and Medical care briefly mentioned, mentions of isolation and survival

Authors Note: The reader’s nickname is Foxy, we get the chance to build more of a relationship between the reader and the boys!

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Dawn was only a gray smudge on the horizon when Foxy woke, feeling the cool weight of the morning fog settled on the forest floor. The team was already stirring, shaking off the stiffness of a night in the woods and preparing for another day’s trek. Foxy made quick work of dousing the remaining embers of their fire, keenly aware of the silent eyes watching their every movement.

They’d stayed longer than planned, both sides testing the unspoken boundaries of trust. There was a growing familiarity between them—a faint, hesitant bond weaving itself into place. Price caught Foxy’s eye with a curt nod. “We’ll keep a steady pace,” he said. “You lead.”

Foxy gave a slight grin, checking their gear. “Think your boys can keep up?”

Soap rolled his eyes but bit back a retort, while Ghost’s silent, appraising gaze betrayed no reaction. Gaz, perched above in falcon form, scanned the trail ahead as they moved out.

They traveled in a silence broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional call of a distant bird. The terrain grew steeper, winding into dense clusters of trees, where every step required precision and awareness. They were heading deeper into rogue territory, and each of them felt the tension thickening, the unspoken need for unity pressing on them all.

After hours of careful travel, Foxy stopped short, raising a hand. “Ravine up ahead. Narrow, but deep. You’ll need to jump across, one by one,” they said, casting a knowing glance at Soap. “Or is that too much finesse for some of you?”

Soap grinned, never one to back down from a challenge. He took a few steps back, then launched himself across the gap, landing with a triumphant nod. Foxy’s expression betrayed a hint of approval as Gaz made a smooth glide over, his falcon wings catching the morning breeze. Ghost was next, his leap almost noiseless, landing without so much as a whisper of sound. Price was last, his jump solid and controlled, meeting Foxy’s gaze as he landed.

Foxy moved ahead, navigating through twisting trails and overgrown paths. The day stretched on, each step taking them deeper into territory that bore Foxy’s subtle mark: worn trails, signs of old camps, and hidden paths only someone deeply familiar with the land would know. Finally, they stopped at a secluded glade, sunlight filtering through the trees in muted streaks of green and gold.

Foxy set down their pack and pulled out a flask, taking a long drink before wiping their mouth with the back of their hand. “Get comfortable,” they said, glancing at the team. “We’re safe here, for now.”

Soap sidled up next to Foxy, ever curious. “So, Foxy, if you’ve been out here this long, you must have a story. What’s kept you here?”

Foxy’s gaze flicked to Soap, a flash of hesitation crossing their features. “Not much to tell,” they replied curtly. “Surviving is all there is to it.”

“Come on,” Soap pressed, flashing his easy smile. “We’re all out here for a reason. None of us would’ve lasted if we didn’t have one.”

Foxy’s gaze grew distant, their stance subtly guarded. “Another time, maybe,” they murmured, gently but firmly deflecting. Soap respected the boundary with a nod, though the curiosity in his eyes remained.

They settled into a comfortable silence, each member of the team adjusting to the newfound companionship. Price watched Foxy carefully, noting the way they held themselves—a confidence tempered by caution, the mark of someone who’d long walked alone.

After a while, Ghost’s voice broke the silence, low and steady. “What exactly are we up against here?”

Foxy’s gaze shifted, and for the first time, Price caught a flicker of something unguarded—a mixture of worry and resolve. “The rogues don’t play games,” they said. “They want control of this territory, and they’re ruthless. It doesn’t matter if you’re a hybrid or human; they’ll use you or kill you if it benefits them.”

Price’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts flaring. “And you’ve been handling them alone?”

Foxy shrugged, brushing off the concern. “Someone has to. They don’t care about anything but power, and they don’t belong here. That’s reason enough for me.”

There was a silence, heavy with respect, as each member of the team absorbed the reality of Foxy’s situation. Price gave a nod. “We’ll handle them together,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Foxy looked at him, a spark of defiance in their eyes, as if challenging him to mean it. But seeing his steady gaze, their shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of their lips. “Guess you might be good for something after all.”

As they trekked on, Foxy’s demeanor softened just enough for them to offer guidance, pointing out landmarks and hidden dangers with the ease of someone who had mapped these woods in their soul. Soap, ever eager, matched his pace with Foxy’s, peppering them with questions about everything from forest survival to the best way to navigate a rogue ambush.

The sun was beginning to sink low when they stopped by a small grove, and Foxy knelt by a patch of vibrant green underbrush, plucking a handful of small berries. “These can help if you’re injured,” they explained, crushing a few into a paste. “Stops the bleeding, at least.”

Soap looked at the mixture with interest. “You’ve got some tricks up your sleeve, huh?”

Foxy shrugged, a faint smile playing on their lips. “Only what I’ve needed to learn to survive.” They looked away, glancing at Soap’s hands, which bore old scars of their own, evidence of battles won and lost. “When you’re out here long enough, you pick things up.”

Gaz, quiet as ever, nodded. “We’re still here for a reason.”

Foxy’s smile grew, just a bit more genuine. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

As dusk fell, they set up camp again, each member settling into familiar routines. Foxy found themselves next to Ghost, who had been watching them from the corner of his eye all day.

“You’re still not sure about us, are you?” Ghost asked, his voice soft but direct.

Foxy looked at him, their gaze wary. “Trust isn’t something I give easily.”

“Nor do we,” Ghost replied, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “But it’s worth trying.”

Foxy held his gaze for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Maybe.”

When the fire crackled to life, casting a warm glow around the group, Price lifted his mug in a silent toast. “To the pack,” he said simply, his voice warm with solidarity.

Foxy’s expression softened, and they raised their own mug. “To the pack,” they echoed, the words carrying a weight that felt more honest than anything they’d said before.

The firelight danced between them, each shadow cast by the flames a reminder of the trust and companionship growing between them. And for the first time, Foxy allowed themselves to hope—just a bit—that even the fiercest of lone souls might find a place to belong.

——

End of Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[goodmorgan]

Perfect Strangers

Chapter 8: A Reward to Forfeit

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

Series Summary: When a stranger appears at your homestead to steal from you, you set out to help him instead. What follows is a reckless relationship with potentially dangerous outcomes.

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

Chapter Summary: Arthur returns after your learned an unexpected truth.

Word Count: 3.6K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. NSFW. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Angst, Infidelity, Oral Sex (m! and f! receiving), 69, Caring and Protective Arthur Morgan, Mentions of Domestic Violence and Death

Taglist: @how-the-heck-would-i-know @pinkiec6-rubi @spiritcatcherxo @slumberr67 @nervousmumbling @themoonalienhere2000 @cwbylikeyou @mieriella @chxxrliie @lunawolfclaw @tinaaaa5747 (i can't seem to tag everyone, i'm so sorry)

AO3 Link

The moon is incandescent tonight. Blazing like you've never seen it, not even in the plains of New Hanover. It's warm and inviting and leaves no place in the dark. You put out the only lamp in your room to witness its magnificent beauty, its powerful shadow coming through the swaying curtains.

The breeze is inviting and the night is refreshing, a salve after the hot day that just passed. As you stand by the window, you remove your housecoat and let it fall to the floor, the coolness hitting your warm skin. The feeling is magical, addictive, and you immediately remove your nightgown, a chill running through your most delicate parts. For a moment you bathe, fully naked, on what the moon and the breeze offer you, the perfect respite after such a heavy day. You focus on the physical sensations that envelop you if only to forget the emotional ones.

After some time, you feel the ache in your legs from the movements of the day. You sit on the edge of the bed closest to the window, close enough to still feel the draft. The moonlight still shines on your skin. All you have to do now is wait. The house is finally quiet. Your lover will be here soon.

And so will the outlaw.

It didn't take you by surprise to learn of his dealings with the law. Mysterious and effusive, always scuttling away from your house and from your bed to head to same place not too distant, but never clear enough of where it is. Doubts kept lingering on your mind about his abrupt comings and goings, his dirty bloody clothes, his bruised calloused hands, his smell of gunpowder and danger. But those doubts were never enough to overpower your senses, drunk on kisses and touches you had never conceived, blinded by lust and exhilaration only he could give. The cunning outlaw, desperately clinging to you for release and passion, headed east to escape from the law, only to find himself ensnared by you.

But how can someone so passionate and caring be so dangerous? How can someone so elusive be the refuge you’ve been hiding in?

The wanted poster would seem like the ultimate betrayal to anyone else. A secret so vile no relationship could survive, not even a secretive one. Your heart should be screaming to evade the scoundrel. But no man could deliver his soul to a stranger, to you, and be ruthlessly devious. Of that you were sure of.

Your plan for now was to wait for his arrival. In the nude, as promised. Bare, as you've been to each other since you've met. Besides, who are you to contest a hidden secret? Just a few hours ago, you kissed your husband with his spend still in your mouth.

You’ve made sure the door is locked this time and you've placed the key on the vanity, making sure no one manages to enter. As you put it down, you realized you might just be locking yourself in a room with one of the most dangerous criminals in the country. Full lunacy under a full moon.

You barely hear him until his hands reach your window, climbing gracefully despite the strain. His boots are dirty and dust disperses when he lands on his feet. He’s physique takes up a large part of the window, towered only by the draped curtains. His face is barely lit as he faces you, replacing the moon’s glow with his own. He smiles fully as he sees your naked body, a man thankful to get what he asked for.

And then you realize he’s not the dangerous outlaw on the poster. He’s your Arthur. Nothing more.

“You sure know how to make a fella feel welcomed, missy." He kneels by you, his face becoming clear in the moonlight, his smile widening as he meets yours. "Prettiest thing I've seen in Saint Denis."

You stare at each other for a few seconds, wondering which one is about to start your usual greeting of a fervent long kiss. But Arthur surprises you, and instead, he places a soft kiss on your cheek, his lips warm on your cooled skin. His eyes are as kind as you remember them, and his demeanor is as soft as his embrace. Whoever drew the wanted poster didn't love him like you do.

But you can't take it anymore. "Arthur, would you ever…" His brow flexes in patience. "… hurt me?"

Arthur's pause is short. "Now why in the hell you asking that, sweetheart?" You must look serious enough that he continues. "Darling, that's the last thing I would do in this world." His hands rest on your hips perfectly, urging you to believe him. "Why are you asking such a thing?"

"There's bad men out there, Arthur." You brush the fabric on his shoulder, afraid of opening a door you can't close. "I've… seen things."

"What did you see, darling?"

"There was a woman on the street today. She got robbed right in broad daylight." You hesitate for a moment before you're brave enough to say it. "They said the man was a fugitive. An outlaw."

Arthur's breath is heavy but you're unsure if it's the word that bothers him. "I'm sorry you had to see that, sweetheart. That must have been scary." His thumbs brush the side of your leg in comfort.

"Yeah. Well, they caught him. Thank heavens."

"That's good." He kisses your temple and lingers before the question pops into his mind. "Why are you asking if I would hurt you, darling?"

"Well." You don't want to tell him you saw his face at the police station under any circumstance. "I know men can…" You try not to stumble too much. "Hurt women… a lot worse." Arthur's eyes are wide as he stares at you. "Some who-"

"Has someone hurt you?" he almost whispers.

"No," you interject, dispelling the thought from his mind. It never really happened with you, although you've heard plenty of horror stories from the women in your life. It was never physical, anyway. Your husband always managed to harm you with his words and deeds, never with his hands. Sometimes you wonder if it would hurt less that way. "I just… Seeing that man. I got scared, I guess."

As you look into his eyes, in the clutch of his hands, you're no longer scared that Arthur's really the beast they hung on the wall at the station. Instead, you're scared that they'll hang Arthur on the gallows, you're feet on the ground as they lower him and your only proof of love into damnation.

The idea is so hurtful, you feel tears forming in your eyes, your heart shrinking in its place. You bury your face in his shoulder, quick enough so he won't see the sorrow on your face. He catches your body in his arms, quick to steady you on him, his feet adjusting to hold the full weight of your naked body.

"It's ok, sweetheart, I've got you." You feel one of his hands patting the back of your head, and he holds you like he always does, as if in possession of life's preciousness, something of his own. "No need to be scared now." You try hard to contain the sobs in your chest, but it's too late as they're pushed against his own. "It's ok, missy." He holds you tighter as if trying to swaddle your worries away. "It's ok, darling."

You don't cry for too long but it's enough to dampen the shirt underneath you. You feel warm as he envelops you in his touch. You somehow rest fully on one of his knees as he holds you up from the floor, scared of dropping you. His breath is steady as he waits patiently for your distress to subside. A new kiss on your temple is enough to lift your head from his clutch, and the light of his eyes returns to illuminate the darkness in you, as gentle as ever.

No outlaw looking at you, no. Just a love that will outlast.

Arthur keeps holding you tight and before you know it he places you down on the bed, the softness of the bed linen cool against your skin, your head heavy against the pillows, finally serene, as you watch him undress his shirt, his boots, his belt, his trousers. He joins you on the bed, his hands reaching for yours so he places small kisses on them. He makes sure you're calm and attentive before he even says a word.

"Wanna know why I came to see you? All the way out here?" He tightens his fingers around yours, your arms bending as he inches closer. "You're the only one who's ever taken care of me like you have." A peck on the cheek softly before he exhales, his face in full view. "Sweetheart, I'd protect you if it's the last thing I do in this world. Cause you're the first one I've met that makes me feel like I might belong in it."

You're frozen in place as he bears himself to you, his face as serious as you've seen it. You're dumbstruck by his words, suddenly floating as he sits next to you, his strong arm rubbing your shoulder, his hands still holding yours. You let your head fall on his chest, curling yourself around his nakedness, begging him to hold you like only he can. Before you know it, you're in his arms again, your ear pressing against his heartbeat and his echoes of paradise.

"I'll always be here for you, darling. You're safe with me."

You're not sure how long you both stare at each other before your eyes close. The world seizes to exist, the notion of lawlessness expires. Only the heavens prevail and the comfort of his arms. His breath a virtuous lullaby.

As soon as you open your eyes, you know it was a nightmare that awoke you. You can't remember what it was about, but it was unpleasant enough to make you want to end it. You're surprised you haven't jolted awake, and you can tell it's because Arthur is still holding you, barely moved since you caved into sleep. He's in a heavy stupor, or he would've noticed your small head tilt as you look toward the window.

The great big moon is gone and an orange hue is closing in on the sky, far enough that you know you don't need to send Arthur away. Not just yet. You turn to see his face instead, his eyelashes long over his cheeks, his tan browning the skin beneath them. His breath lands on your face faintly, you can feel it rustle some of your hair. His lips are plump and primed just to taste. You hope he forgives you as yours land on them, finding it impossible not to indulge. You've seen him wake many times now, but every time is just as dazzling as the man who stares back at you.

"You ok, darling?" His words are groggy as his eyes, blinking to better look at you. He tightens his hold of you as he shifts in position, barely disturbed by the fact he spent hours holding a grown woman in his arms. "You feel better, missy?"

You nod your head as you find it necessary to continue to kiss him, trying to get him back to the land of the living. Once he's more awake, he starts to kiss back, and soon enough his tongue leads into ecstasy that makes you completely alive too. As alive and safe as you've ever been.

Arthur is not an educated man, of that you know. He's been puzzled by some of the books beside your bed, or with a topic of conversation that is a little more erudite. You don't mind it at all, as you feel he in no way lacks more important qualities, like emotional maturity and life experience. He often knows how you feel before you even do so yourself. But his candor has always been genuine and abundant, never being able to conceal his true intent. You know every word he said to you last night was truthful and sincere, not taken from a flimsy novel or a yesterday's paper. You know his words were heartfelt and spoken with legitimacy. Arthur is a man of his word, even if not of the law.

You're safe in his arms, of that you are sure of, and as you kiss him back deeper and deeper, you know your loyalty lies with him, even more so than before. Your hands hold steady on his shoulder blades as he places you gently on the bed again, his tongue distracting enough that you barely feel it. The brush of the tip of his cock against your thigh suggests maybe he's keen on dragging this on, much like you are.

Arthur continues his way downwards, first down your neck, then to your breasts, taking a moment to savor each one, his tongue hot on each nipple. He leaves a trail down your stomach before he starts fondling the hairs on your mount, his hands reaching for the side of your thighs to hold you in place as he readjusts. The way he clenches you means his impatient. He looks over at you before he can dive into you, just as the daylight dives into the night outside your window.

Many mornings have come and gone where he has lavished you like this, your eyes barely opened before he delights you awake. His acts are those of a man thankful to have a woman he can ravish like this, thankful to have a woman who will undoubtedly return the favor when she's allowed. But that's not why he does it. He does it because, above all else, he enjoys it. It thrills him that he can do it, thankful he gets to do something for another person besides beating them or robbing them. You're his escape from this world, and by his own words, you're the only one that keeps him anchored to it: *"You're the first one I've met that makes me feel like I might belong in it." *

All thoughts vanish when his tongue joins his lips on your bud, the sensation making you so elated that you close your eyes at once. His work is thorough and dominant, now that he knows you're well awake. He charges quite forcefully, hungry to see you squirm under his grip, your legs struggling under his hands. You take a deep breath before you open your eyes and you see him, kneeling as he lavishes your sex, his muscular back beginning to sweat. Underneath his torso, you catch a glimpse of his cock, half hard from either his slumber or his appetite. You reach for it with your hand, determined to get his attention.

Arthur stops his ministrations to look back at you, your hand slowly working his length. His chin is shiny from your slick and his spit. "You sure?"

"Please," you beg.

Arthur knows what you want and acquiesces. He's gentleman enough to readjust himself on the bed, his tip now closer so you can taste him fully. You both tilt to the side, facing each other, your head landing on his thigh before his own lands on yours. He's still looking at you as your tongue reaches his tip, moaning as you satisfy your urge to lick his drip, not averting his eyes until after you close your lips around it.

His arousal often leads him to surrender to his urges and he becomes impatient to get you to wriggle under his touch again. His tongue lavishes your bud with swift but effective strokes, getting quicker with each pass. His free hand joins his efforts and you feel a finger at your entrance, inching closer to the spot on your wall he knows how to find so well. Soon enough another finger joins in, and you feel edging closer to the end. His mouth is relentless on you, but you try hard to keep your mouth busy, as full as you can, his hardness at peak as you work his base with your hand. You feel yourself drooling with pleasure and it becomes hard to determine which of the muffled moans are yours and which are his. You're starting to take him deeper when Arthur speeds up the pace even more.

You try to keep him in your mouth as much as possible, even when it becomes impossible to move him in and out. When you're close, you take him out with a noisy pop that's stifled by a loud moan from you, your hand clutching to his back to anchor your descent. Arthur's stamina doesn't wane and in just a few seconds he brings you to the place of wild and livid bliss, his tongue still licking as your hips rock back and forth as you ride the heavens once again. You tighten your fingers around his muscles, your fingernails digging deeper into him, unaware you're leaving a deep mark. Once your whimpering is steadier and lower, he removes his fingers from inside you to rub your ass, kneading on the flesh to help you quell your movements.

Arthur really knows how to make you dizzy, exhausted. A mastermind at making you succumb to pleasure. It takes you some time before you can open your eyes again, only to find yourself looking at the carved ceiling of your bedroom. It could use some painting. You turn your face to see Arthur watching you, slumped down on one elbow, his hand working his cock, trying to finish off what you started. His pace is hurried. It won't take him long. He moves to sit more comfortably and closer to you, his tip towering from your viewpoint. He decides to take his free hand over to your face, brushing off a few strands of wet hair covering it. He takes one good look at you unveiled before his breath hitches, his eyes close and his hand moves erratically, his tip then erupting into a hot white streak, which then covers his hand, his stomach. Dark spots form on your fancy bed sheets.

You move toward him before his breath steadies and he opens his eyes to watch you lick his spend off the back of his hand, his fingers, his tip still dripping. He places his hands around your arms as you lower down to lick what landed on his mound, his stomach, his chest. He makes sure to keep watching the deliberate movements of the tip of your tongue, which makes him want to burst all over again. Your tongue doesn't stop until it reaches his neck, his sweat is sweet after the bitterness of his spend. You try to drink most of him before he pushes your chin upwards, kissing you as passionately as he does when either one of you finishes, as if you haven't had enough of a reward yet. You both catch a trace of yourself on each other, exchanging the perfect symphony.

Arthur likes to kiss, and luckily he's great at it. So much so that this is almost as thrilling as what came before. As he continues, his back comes to rest against the headboard, welcoming you onto his lap, your legs a perfect fit with his.

It's only when his eyes start to sparkle with the sunlight of a new day that you notice that it's best to stop, making sure he can still leave before anyone catches him. It's even more urgent now that no one should catch him, now that you know he's a wanted man with a price on his head, a reward you damn well want to forfeit.

The outlaw subsides the work of his tongue when you pull your head back, your fingers brushing the flex of his arms to tell him to stop. "It's best you should go."

He turns slightly to catch the sky out of the window. "I guess it is."

Despite that, you both continue to kiss, more hurriedly but just as deeply. Your hips rock slightly forward against him, the need in your lower abdomen blooming again. Arthur's barely recovered but it's clear he wishes for more too.

You take a deep breath as you wrap your arms around him, a soft moan escaping your throat when you can't get any closer to him. It's here, on his lap, where you belong. The comfort of his body beneath yours is the safest place on earth somehow, and somehow, you yearn for more. More of him, more of this. More of the outlaw grinding beneath your thighs, growing stiffer by the minute his tongue spends inside your mouth. It's here, in his lap, where you want to be, bound by lust and evasion of the law. After all, being an adulterer is a crime too. You best enjoy this before either one of you is caught.

None of you show signs of stopping, although dragging this on is anything but wise. The risks of you or Arthur getting caught increase with every brush of your lips. But it occurs to you, that you don't just want him not to go. No. You want him to take you with him.

To take you back to your cottage in New Hanover, where your affair blossomed, where Arthur used to have you just like this, sometimes harder, sometimes softer. Where perhaps you can resume where you left off, where it's less likely that someone can catch you. Either the law or the spouse.

The wanted man halts his movements as you break from his embrace to deliver your most unlawful plea yet.

"Take me back, Arthur. Take me back with you."

---

A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long for an update. Unfortunately life got in the way. But please know I intend to finish this fic, whenever that may be.

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 4

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: Strong language, use of weapons, trespassing, angst, trauma, emotional turmoil, mentions of Reader’s past, bribery, reader being a smart ass. (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 9.3K

Summary: What happens when the one person you're supposed to kill, is the one you have a moment of shared recognition and longing with? What happens when your loyalties are questioned?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

The massive web of connections on the investigation board that laid on your coffee table made your brain go into overdrive. The clutter of maps, papers, photographs, and notes all pinned on the board and scattered on the couch and the table, it all slowly brought together your task at finding the direct hit to taking Red down. It had been a week since he broke into your apartment and threatened you, leaving you feeling more motivated to take him out than when you first started this assignment a month ago.

You had spent the majority of your time analyzing his patterns, putting together every hit he made and every operation under his watch. Each job, each stakeout, each tiny detail leading you closer and closer to dismantling his entire criminal empire.

You leaned forward, taking a quick sip from your wine glass before placing it on the table, pinning another point on the board, a meeting he had held with some of his partners that you scoped out. It was a normal monthly check-in, his partners updating him on the scope of the land, the hits they had taken, and the mention of the abduction of Amazo resulting in a failure. It was one of the final straws that made Black Mask's inquiry with Penguin. Amazo was supposed to help Sionis rise in the ranks, solidify him as a powerful hand in international trafficking. The entire operation stopped by none other than Batman and Nightwing. They also were pinned on the board, it wasn’t likely they were connected to Red, but they were on the board anyway. Any encounter was important. You laid back into the couch, soaking it all in as you crossed your legs, contemplating your next move. You could set a trap, lure him in and get him off guard.

It was a thought, but he was calculative and smart. He would probably see your attack from a mile away. You needed to plan around his strengths and expose his weaknesses.

You laid your head against the back of the couch, looking up at the ceiling before making your decision, your head lolling to the side and taking note of the time. It was still early. You could make it to the next point of contact.

You let out a breath, pushing yourself from the couch and changing into your stealth clothes, securing your mask above your nose and pulling your hood over your head, falling into the alley and speeding down the streets to your pinpoint location.

The air was thick with tension, the wind blowing as you slipped into the shadows of the abandoned factory, moving silently to not be caught by any potential security measures. You kept your breath even, scanning through the night with your night vision goggles, trying to find any sign of movement or suspicious activity.

Your eyes instantly locked on the black figure moving through the building, its movements calculated and careful, blending seamlessly into the darkness and staying practically invisible. You moved into the room, carefully treading as you moved towards the beams above the room, the walkway hanging from the ceiling, trying to stay hidden as you watched Red. He kneeled, watching as he pulled up a device that downloaded information from the data box that was wired in the wall. You felt your heart race increase, the plan playing through your head as you tried to focus. Your muscles tensed, waiting for the perfect moment to get him off guard.

Once Red stood, you pushed yourself off the walkway, your feet taking the majority of the impact as you kicked him, his head snapping to the side and landing on the ground, launching back at him with your knife as you cut through his arm. You felt his grasp as he slammed you to the ground, your anger taking over you as you jumped over him and grabbed his head, trying to snap his neck only to be met with him wrapping his hands around your ankles, twisting your body and forcing it on the ground. He slammed you down, his body crushing yours as you tried to aim your dagger at his throat. You felt a solid, forceful punch in the gut as he dug his knee into your side. Each of his hits met with equal force, your body tangled with his as you rolled and landed on top of him, your face meeting his crimson helmet as you tried to force the knife into his jugular, his hands forcing the knife to come to a halt as it shook in your grasp.

His eyes narrowed at you, a subtle scoff as he forced the knife out of your hands, disarming you as he wrapped his legs around your body, forcing you into the ground his leg forced against your back as he shoved your face into the concrete. Your breath hitched, gasping for air as the heat of his body burned through her, his intensity causing her to struggle underneath him.

“Getting better, sweetheart.”, Red’s voice was low, the vibration flowing through your bones in an eerie sensation. “Almost had me that time.”

“Get… off me.”, you struggled, your cheek pressed firmly on the ground as you struggled against his grip. His hold was unmoving, his presence full of lethal power. You met his gaze, his body heat causing your skin to burn, trying to push him off of you.

You could not let him get the upper hand, you strained against him, using all your force to get out of his grasp. You struggled to get to your feet as you felt his hand clasp around your wrist, spinning you around until your back was pressed against his muscular chest, his voice echoing in your ear.

“What are you doing here, (Y/n)?”, his voice rumbled in a deep octave.

“You know why motherfucker.”, you forced out, the venom laced in your voice as you glared dagger at him behind you. “You need to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of? Sweetheart, you’re so sure of yourself.”, you could hear the humor in his tone, the smirk that probably lingered on his lips under his mask. “You don’t think you could possibly take me down. I’ve gotten you three times in a row, don’t act like you’re better than you actually are.”

“And you think you’re big and bad?”, you spit at him, you annoyance growing, the extinguished fire reigniting itself as he held you in an iron grip. “You're a nobody, Red. You only have this hold on weak men because you can’t rise to the ranks on your own. You are nothing without Black Mask and Carmine’s rings.”

“You got a smart mouth on you. Talking about being a nobody.”, He grabbed your face, forcing your head closer to his. “Take away Penguin, take away your connections, take away everything that brought you into this life. Who are you?”

Your jaw clenched, your anger setting into your bones, your vision turning red at his obvious bait. Taunting was always his best card to play in order to get a rise out of you. There was nothing you hated more than people second guessing you, invalidating your work and efforts to get to where you were.

“I’m the one who’s going to fucking kill you.”, you seethed. “I’ll be the one collecting that bond on your head, and when I do, I won’t ever have to deal with your bullshit or Sionis ever again. I’ll be free to leave.”

His grip tightened, making your jaw ache from the force but you refused to flinch at the pain. You were getting under his skin, you could tell by his ticks. Looks like he also hated being second guessed.

“You think you’re untouchable, but you forget that you’re just human. You can die just as easily as the rest of us. It’ll be the greatest pleasure to watch the life drain from your eyes when I put a bullet through your fucking skull.”

“Watch your fucking tone.”

“Does it bother you knowing that you have no real power? That you’re nothing without taking territory and men from other crime bosses?” His eyes narrowed, the anger radiating off him in waves. He was trying to maintain control, but you could see the cracks in his composure. His grip on your face felt like a vice, but the pain was secondary to the satisfaction of getting under his skin.

You smirked at him. “I’ve dealt with worse than you and always received my payment. You're just another obstacle, another name on my list. And believe me, I’ve got a solid kill count.”

“Solid kill count yet you can’t make the shot that will actually count.”, he taunted. “You can’t touch me. You underestimate me and that is your biggest mistake.”

He shoved you away, making you stumble but you caught yourself quickly, standing tall despite the ache in your jaw. He paced, his fists clenching and unclenching, the muscles in his neck taut with barely restrained fury.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Your smart mouth will get you killed, sweetheart. I’ll break you. Slowly, painfully. And when I do, you’ll beg for the end.”

“I’d rather die than ever have to beg you for anything.”, you watched as he straightened, his body on guard as you focused on him, ready for when he’d attack.

He lingered a moment, his gaze piercing into you as if he could see the very core of your being. Then, without another word, he turned, heading towards the door. The room seemed to exhale as he reached the exit, the air thick with the weight of his threat.

"This isn’t over, Red.", you spoke out as he walked away.

"No, it isn’t.", he called out. Just as he was about to leave, he paused and glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing with lethal intent. "If you follow me, I'll shoot you.”

The door closed behind him, the loud slam echoing through the room, leaving you standing in the middle of the room with your fists clenched at your sides and your gaze focused where he stood. There was a burning sensation in your chest, an anger that penetrated deep within you.

You wanted to scream, to punch something, to make him feel even a fraction of the rage he had put within you.

You stayed silent, the frustration boiling beneath your skin. You knew you couldn't afford to let it consume you. Not yet. There would be a time for anger, a time for revenge, but for now, you had to bide your time.

You need to be smart.

You need to be patient.

You would make the Red Hood regret ever doubting you.

Breaking into a high secured building seemed a lot more difficult than it was, bypassing the security system to run on a loop in order to not be caught. You slipped past the few guards inside, noting that the building being “highly secure translates to only three guards being on duty.

One at the entrance, one by the invaluable pieces of art and jewels, the last navigating the rest of the building, floating so his movements were unpredictable. It didn’t matter though, especially since you’d already made it inside. You needed to find the office and grab the intel you needed.

You moved around quietly, your all black suit helping you blend into the night as you navigated carefully through the halls. The downloaded blueprint of the building located the office was only a few doors down. Looking around the corner you noticed an opening, quickly going through and sliding into the dark office.

You skimmed through the office, taking note of the files cascaded on the table. Your eyes notice different company names and a long list of names. Lifting the paper, you noted it was a guest list. For what you couldn’t care less. This wasn’t what you were here for.

The file cabinet caught your eye, picking the lock and opening the first drawer, looking through the files quickly to find the one you were searching for.

“Always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong” the sound of the deep, distorted voice made you jump, turning around quickly as his body was already pushing yours against the cabinet.

“Red”, you seethed.

“What are you doing, Y/n?”

“That’s my business. Not yours.” you countered, trying to discreetly find an out. He must’ve noticed because he moved his face closer to yours. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t worry about what I’m doing, sweetheart”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, trying to push past him and move to the other side of the room, but right as you did you felt his hand wrap around your arm, pulling you into him. Your heart started beating, pounding in your chest as the adrenaline told you to find an out. You trashed against him, his arm wrapped across your chest to hold you in place as his gloved hand covered your mouth. You kept fighting him until his back was against the wall, your back flush against his chest, slowly calming down as you saw a small light illuminate the floor.

A guard.

You watched the floor light up, the flashlight scanning through the room as your heart pounded in your chest in hopes he wouldn’t go deeper into the room. You sank into Red’s hold, relaxing in his warmth. A part of you, the delusional part of you, found a sliver of comfort in the way you were against him. You could feel his heart in his chest, even and calm. How was he so calm? You pushed the thought away as you watched the light disappear down the hall, the door clicking as it closed and locked as the footsteps descended down the hall.

Once the click sounded, you snapped back to focus, turning away from him once you realized the position you were in.

“Thanks”, you muttered, forcing the gratitude out like it was acid.

“So you do know how to say thank you”, he teased before you snapped your head towards him, glaring daggers as he backed away.

You turned back towards the filing cabinet, skimming through until you finally found the file you needed.

Gotcha.

You turned, Red’s eyes focused on you as he sat in a chair nearby with a leg over the other and his arms crossed. He stayed silent, almost as though expecting you to answer but you didn’t.

“Let me guess. The file is in Sionis”, you contemplating answering him. “Why do you have bad blood with one of your boss’s partners?”

“Why would I tell you about my bad blood with Sionis?”

“So there is?”, he countered quickly.

“He… He’s a dog. He needs to be taken down a few notches, humbled.”

“That why you let me go so kindly?”, your jaw clenched. “You said it was spite, i’m assuming it’s because of him?”

“You’re making me regret not shooting you in the mouth.”

You opened the files, skimming through the information to confirm it was Sionis’ file. You placed it under your arm, turning to walk past him. He stayed silent, not questioning your actions until you paused.

You were still angry with him. Even more so than usual and yet him being here didn’t stir any emotions inside of you. It left you feeling confused at why he was so hot and cold. If you were the enemy to him, and you killed all his operations why didn’t he take his free shot to kill you?

Was he waiting for something to happen? Did he expect something to pop up and then he would take the first chance he could to get rid of you?

It didn’t make sense. He was so adamant the other day that you were probably the worst thing that could’ve ever happened and yet he stood five feet away from you watching your every move and not even trying to stop you from escaping with the file.

Why?

“They tasked me to kill you. I won’t do it because Sionis doesn’t deserve an easy out. You die, he regains his position as the top of the food chain and I’ll do anything to keep that from happening. Don’t think this is because I won’t kill you, because I think we both know I can.”

That was the last thing you told him before jumping on the table, jumping up and pushing the window open and climbing to the roof before running home.

The file contained an entire run down on Roman Sionis, his background, his upbringing, his family and criminal ties, even why the Sionis and Two-Face were at odds with one another. You needed to find a weakness, an opening to knock him down a peg, something to keep him from becoming the top dog in Gotham’s underground.

Ever since you met the man, you’d despised him. Your meeting went back longer than the meeting at the Lounge. You were certain Black Mask never recognized you, but you remembered him from when you first tried to gain footing in the underground. He’d sent his men to beat you to an inch of your life when he’d found you trying to steal from him to try and get some money. You were still weak, small, barely 16 and your appearance had changed a lot since you were a teenager. He’d left your body bloody and beaten, left to be attacked by others but you were able to drag yourself into a sewer drain and let yourself rest until you could find a way to tend to your injuries. It was the same time Penguin had taken you in.

You’d chosen this life to get away from the ghost that haunted you. You couldn’t go back to the family, go back to Gotham Academy, after Robin disappeared, you wanted to put that entire life behind you. It was easy to have all your problems solved, but you couldn’t be in that life without thinking about him. He’d made everything bright, made living with the family tolerable. The only way to get over him was to leave the life he made so bright behind.

That life never suited you, and you were fine with it. You’d rather work with Penguin and get the money you needed to leave by your own hard work, not because some rich family was giving it to you.

Sionis had ties to Arkham Asylum, being admitted there a few times before leaving and getting more of his business to take off. He had ties to almost every major criminal that was locked behind bars there and you wondered if there was something deeper in his connections. He already called one of those connections in and was set to be released soon. You let your brain overwork itself until you couldn’t focus anymore.

You couldn’t handle this, you needed a break, needed time to just be alone and bask in your own emotions. You let out a breath, pushing out of your chair and stretching your legs. You needed to get out, go on the field and do some real work, but your job with Calvi had taken up a good chunk of your time. You still needed him to be in contact with Penguin.

You pulled out your unmarked phone, dialing Calvi’s number, hearing the line ring twice before he answered.

“Calbera speaking.”

“Hey, Calvi. It’s Vivian.”, you said with a smile in your tone as your face remained neutral. “I was just calling to set another time to meet.”

“Vivian, it’s nice hearing your voice again.”, he said in a smooth tone, “Yes, we can set a time. How does tomorrow evening sound?”

Tomorrow.

You felt a tug at your chest as you looked at the calendar, your mind unsure of your answer before you heard him call your alias through the phone. Tomorrow was too… raw, but you needed to get this job done sooner than later.

“Tomorrow is perfect. I look forward to seeing you Calvi”

“The feeling is mutual. See you tomorrow Vivian”.

The line went silent, your eyes still focused on the calendar before turning and heading to bed, looking out at the sky as the small light from the stars barely shined through due to the light pollution. It was enough though, enough to get a good idea of what it would be like to see the stars in full effect.

~

“I want to go out to the mountains, like camping or something.”, you squint your eyes trying to see the stars over all the light from the buildings around you. You couldn’t see the stars that well but you imagined them well enough to see what they could possibly look like.

“We could go, you know?”, Robin looked up, standing next to you as the wind blew your hair and ruffled his own. “Let’s plan a day to go together.”

“I don’t even know who you are behind the mask and you’re asking me to go camping with you?”

“I could tell you.”, he shrugged. “I don’t see why I couldn’t talk to Batman and see if he’d let me.”, you stared at him, a part of you in shock at his openness to ask his mentor to let him reveal such a huge part of himself. The thing that made his identity a secret. Was he really willing to risk it all for you?

“Yeah, I’d like that”, you smiled at him before looking back up, the breeze wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort.

~

The next evening came quickly enough, the time slipping by as you busied yourself with getting ready and heading over to Calvi’s estate. The butler taking you inside and Calvi waiting for you in the foyer. He smiled at you with a charming look, reaching a hand out and leading you into his main sitting room. He fetched you some wine, the same red you had at the club a week ago when Red had barged in and ruined everything. You were still angry at him, beyond pissed, but the anger had dwindled with the days as you started to focus more on things that did nothing but cut you open on the inside.

Calvi talked mindlessly as you paid minimal attention to his words, everything flowing in one ear and out the other, your responses dry but you covered them up well with your eye contact and body language. He didn’t even notice just how detached you were from the situation and you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore than any other day. Today just wasn’t a good day for you. It brought back pieces of your past that left you to shreds and made you feel forgotten.

“Vivian, would you like to accompany me to a Gala being held in a month?”, you snapped up to him, your eyes focused on him as he stared at you.

“A Gala?”, you asked softly, still trying to focus on what he mentioned before this.

“It's an annual Gala held by some of the most prestigious businessmen in Gotham, every major partner, business owner, and A-list celebrity will be there. I’ve gotten a special invite to be honored for the evening for my business and would like to bring you as my plus one.”, he placed a hand on your knee, his eyes focused on you and hoping you’d say yes.

“An evening in your honor, that sounds…. Amazing.”, you replied softly, smiling as he focused on your lips. “I’m flattered that you’re asking me. Of course I’ll go as your plus one.”

“Great, I’ll forward you all the information you need. I think it will be a good way to celebrate the past two weeks of getting to know each other.”

You forced a smile at his words, noticing that he was taking this relationship in a different context than you had hoped. This was your way to get him to switch from working with Red to working with Penguin. You just needed to find the perfect opportunity to get him talking about his deal with Red and somehow steer to Penguin.

“So, Red Hood?”, you asked quietly. “I didn’t expect you to have ties with someone who’s been running rampant and causing a fuss on the street. It’s been all over the news recently.”

“He provides good protection, helps me get an upper hand in my operations and doesn’t let black market intel slip into the wrong hands. I think it’s a pretty secure system.”, he leaned back, taking a drink of his whiskey before looking over at you again. “Why the sudden interest, my dear?”

“No particular reason. I just know there are a lot more established people who run the crime rings. That’s all”

“How do you know about the crime rings?”, he raised an eyebrow at you, questioning you for a moment.

“Let’s say, I like to dabble in what goes on in Gotham’s underground matters. The rich, upscale life is too…. Boring.”, you confessed. It wasn’t a lie. Upper Gotham was boring and only consisted of rich assholes parading around like everyone owes them something.

“That is very true. I don’t think I can help make it less boring, can I?”, he motioned slightly, cocking his head as his eyes bore into yours.

“You already managed to make it less boring with our meeting at the club last week.”, you smiled, a mischievous grin painting your features. “I like seeing that side of things. It might be dangerous but…. It left me excited.”

His eyes darkened at your words. You were playing your cards right and he was slowly falling into it. You needed him to further bring up the topic, until then your hands were tied and you could only wait as he focused on your features.

You had your hair in a loose ponytail, one that wasn’t underdressed but not overdone either. It was a perfect inbetween that matched your laid back attire of a basic white tee and tan dress pants with your exposed necklace perfectly tying everything together. It was simple yet classy, not over done but not underdressed.

“I can bring more excitement if you want to join in on future meetings. Of course, if you’d be interested.”, your smile didn’t reach your eyes but you were good at covering it up with false excitement.

“I would love that, Calvi”, you touched his hand, clasping it and rubbing your thumb on the back of it before he leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead before kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I look forward to it then, my dear.”

You felt absolutely nothing. Yet, you couldn’t help but imagine if life would be more simple if you had been with someone like Calvi. Handsome, rich, intelligent, and able to hold his own when it came down to business and the underground. You wouldn’t lie to yourself, you knew he was successful and had a hand in the black market business, but you didn’t fall so easily for the charm of someone who had too many flaws, hidden secrets, more skeletons in the closet than you cared to deal with. His family business was dirty and their reputation was filled with all sorts of shady upbringings. Calvi was not the type of person you got involved with in any way that was for anything other than business.

After your meeting, he led you to the front, waiting for the car to come around and take you home, but you had requested the driver take you to another location once you had said your goodbyes and hopped into the car. The driver only nodded and drove 20 minutes to the other side of where you were supposed to be. It was late, almost 10pm. You hadn’t noticed your meeting with Calvi had been so late but that’s what happens when you agree to meet at 7pm instead of earlier like regular people. Once you arrived, you thanked the driver and got out, letting the wind hit your face as you walked down the street and up to the building that overlooked the water.

You rounded the building, finding the ladder shaft that led all the way to the top of the building. It was a tall climb but you didn’t care. You wanted to feel a sense of exhilaration climbing up so many floors just from the side of a building. You had been trained properly to ensure you wouldn’t fall and you didn’t. You reached the roof in ease after 10 minutes of climbing up the long ladder.

You walked over to the ledge of the building, over where it overlooked the rest of the surrounding areas and looked down at the place that once brought you good memories and feelings of happiness. You sat on the ledge and focused on letting yourself just bask in the moment.

It was chilly outside, your legs pulled up to your chest as you watched the water. It’d been a while since you came here, your heart constricting at the distant memories you’d shared with the Boy Wonder. It was secluded and no one ever came up here, it was perfect to just wallow in the past of everything. There were parts of you wondering if you came here enough, if he’d somehow show up too. You scoffed at the thought before fiddling with the pendant on your necklace that was perfectly exposed.

It wasn’t too long ago that you came back and sat in your own company to grieve through losing him. You never found out why and the closure would never present itself. You wanted to give him every excuse, every reason why he didn’t return but in the end it was to only ease your hurt.

Footsteps behind you broke you from your trance. The silence grew as you slowly turned your head, meeting the exact person you already knew it was. You were too tired, too burned out, too emotionally unwell to even be angry at his presence.

“What are you doing here?”, his voice questioned through the voice distorter, his distance making him easy to hear but still kept him far away enough to not come across as a threat.

“I come here all the time.”, you muttered, not caring to fight with him today. Especially not today.

“That wasn’t my question.” he repeated himself. “What are you doing here?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to look at the water without answering him. Did he follow you here? He had a bad habit of keeping tabs on you when he needed to mind his business.

“Y/n.”

A simple call. Simple yet demanding.

“What?!”, you snapped. “Why are you following me? Just go away, give me peace at least today! You can go back to trying to kill me tomorrow, hell at midnight if you want but just go!”

He stopped in his tracks, the blanket of silence falling over you again. You noticed the sockets of his helmet move, his shoulders tensing as he looked at you, likely taking in your emotional state. You’d never shown a level of vulnerability to anyone before, but you were so close to breaking. The heat and pressure behind your eyes growing by the second.

Today was the day he’d left. The day he didn’t come back. You needed to be alone. You needed to process the hurt that you still carried in your heart. It was the only thing that made you weak and you hated it. How did some boy make you weak after fighting all those years to be strong? How was he your Achilles heel?

You could feel him still standing behind you, your lip quivering as you forced yourself to stay composed. His boots shifted before he walked to the ledge, standing there and staring at the water with you. You looked at him silently, trying to gauge why he was here. He didn’t say anything, just stood quietly as you sat on the ground with your legs to your chest and your chin resting on top of your knees.

The silence felt…. comforting.

He didn’t say anything else, you didn’t speak. You just basked in the silence together and it felt like he was giving you a silent form of support. You noticed his body relaxed, his muscles resting instead of flexed and ready to fight.

The heaviness in your chest grew into an overwhelming ball of emotion, but you forced yourself to push it away. You couldn’t break down in front of him.

You just couldn’t.

“I had a friend I used to meet here”, he spoke finally. “Seems like it was a lifetime ago”

You looked at him, your eyes softening at his confession. “Yeah. Me too.” you breathed. “It seems like it was a hundred lifetimes ago”

Silence again. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for him then, had he always been this dangerous? This cut throat and with a murderous edge?

“Were the two of you close?”, you broke the silence.

“We were. We became friends unconventionally but it was a good relationship to have.”, even through the distortion in his helmet making his voice change, you could hear how his tone softened from its usual rough and deep tone.

“That’s good. It’s hard to find people to have good relationships with”

“What about you?”, he asked, turning to you as you looked up at him from the ground, your eyes locked on each other and a moment passed in similarity.

“We had it good… but guess it wasn’t good enough”

Red looked at you, his body language open as he waited for you to continue.

“He disappeared. Just never came back. So..”

He didn’t say anything after that, just turned back to the water and soaking in the small bit of wind blowing your hair out of your face. You were not dressed for the weather but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He moved his hand towards you, passing you a small item. You raised an eyebrow at him, grabbing the item before you felt the warmth flood your hands.

It was a hand warmer.

You silently thanked him, allowing yourself to soak in the quiet. The silence stayed for a while longer, maybe 20 minutes give or take before he turned, leaving you as you watched him walk away from the ledge.

“Hey”, you called to him, making himself too in his tracks and he moved his head to the side, waiting for your response. “It’s after midnight. You have a free shot right now”

He turned his whole body, staring at you silently seeing his eyes narrow slightly. You couldn’t see his expression but you felt something different in the air. He stared at you almost in empathy.

“I’ll save it for next time”, he muttered, turning and taking off, leaving you alone on the roof as you watched after him.

There was no way you just… shared your past with him, right?

You didn’t think too much about it, letting yourself bask in the cold silence before finally heading home closer to 1am. Leaving behind another part of your past as you went home to rest for the coming days.

It was dark, the lights from the city in the distance seemed to be the only thing illuminating through the night. You moved silently through the field, your senses on high alert and responsive. Your goal was simple: get inside the building, download your information, and leave before you got caught. You needed this information, it was another piece to your puzzle in bringing down both Sionis and Red. It was foolish to try and dismantle both of them, but you needed an upper hand.

Your heart pounding in your chest as you moved in, everything seemingly too calm. Scanning the area, you took in every detail, trying to catch anything that could raise alarms. It was quiet. Too quiet.

You slipped in through a window, jumping from the top of the building and landing softly on the ground, your footsteps almost non-existent.

You couldn’t be too careful, taking in the palettes of wooden crates organized neatly throughout the room. Anyone of these could trigger an alarm, or worse, get you caught in the middle of the workers trying to kill you.

You needed to go up a few floors, the server room being on the upper levels of the building. Moving through the room, you found the staircase, carefully moving and ready to jump over the ledge if the moment called for it. You were not going to get caught up like last time.

You pulled open the door, peeking in to securely sneak in. It was empty. The late hour could be the reason but something tugged at your gut telling you it was something else.

“C’mon, this way.”, a voice rang out, forcing you to press your back against the wall, flush to minimize being seen. Three men, probably patrolling or fucking around. Regardless, you needed to get past them. You waited until they passed, moving carefully as they left. You watched after them, double checking the hall before moving to the other end of the floor, reaching the secured room as you connected your drive to the security panel to hack into it.

The universe must love putting you in shitty situations, not even five seconds later the room filled with a flashing red overlay, an alarm blaring throughout the building. You snapped your hands up, covering your ears as you turned around, trying to ensure you weren’t getting caught or tripped an alarm. Nothing. Panic surged through you trying to find a way to get out of this without getting caught.

You heard the click of the door, your eyes widening as you pushed through, shutting the door and walking over to the server. You connected the flash drive, hacking into the system and downloading the information you needed. You heard footsteps from the hall, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for the chip to turn green.

The handle rattled as the men barged into the room, your heart spiking as you swiped the flash before it could download everything you needed. Dammit!

The sound of gunshots erupting through the room sent you into overdrive, forcing you to face them head on and get out of the building. You moved quickly, the bullets missing you as you tipped over the desk and ducked behind it. Chips of broken wood flew all around you, the gunshots never ending as they moved closer towards you. You tried shooting back at them with your own fire, but it was four against one. You were going to get caught.

Fuck.

The gunshots stopped, your heart pounding as you tried to contemplate your options. A loud explosion threw you off, the guards cursing as gunfire started again. The shots getting louder before they stopped completely, then a lone shot echoed.

You stayed frozen, mentally preparing yourself for what you’d face if you stood. You turned, looking at the doorway, your heart dropped but flooded in relief. You pushed the thought away as the deep distorted words moved through the room.

“Move!”, he ordered you, the alarm getting louder as you pushed yourself to your feet, rushing to the door as meeting his eye line.

You hesitated, your pride eating at you before you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t be in debt to him. Before you could say anything, the sound of more men rang out. Red motioned for you to follow him and for some reason, you did just that. You ran behind him as you slipped through the hallways, his body ramming into a door, breaking it down as he kicked through the window, glass shattering everywhere.

Your adrenaline was pumping through you, your heart working overtime and your mind racing as you tried to keep up with everything happening around you.

“You coming or do you want to get shot?”, he taunted before he climbed out of the window, you following closely behind as you climbed the ladder to the roof. The outside of the building also had an alarm system, the blaring ringing in your ear as you tried to focus on getting out of the death trap filled with men ready to die for their cause.

You saw as Red’s body disappeared over the ledge, your lungs burning to reach the top and get a break from the chaos inside. A gloved hand extended itself, staring at it as you paused, taking it as Red hauled you over the top, your body crashing into his. He had a hand on your back, your hands on his forearm and chest, breathing in the air as you tried to catch your breath.

Why was it so hard to breathe right now?

You looked up at him, your hands still on his body as his gaze held yours. He didn’t narrow his eyes or seem annoyed, he just… watched you.

“I…” you sucked in a breath. “I had it under control”, you muttered.

“Sure you did, sweetheart”, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You rolled your eyes, your attitude less than it normally was.

He really did just come out of nowhere and help you, a tug in your gut making you question why when all he’d done the past month is try and kill you. Had he softened after the two of you saw each other on the roof? You doubted it. He always had ulterior motives and you needed to find what they were before it was too late.

In the midst of your trance, Red heard a snap behind him, his hands still on your body as he heard the cocking of a gun, the sound missing your ears entirely. He grabbed your body, shielding it as he jumped behind one of the metal containers on the roof as a rain of fire flooded the roof. They were shooting to kill, and he was not about to get killed by these brainless men.

You snapped out of your trance, the thud that you hit the ground with making you focus. Red’s body was over yours, his gun raised as he took shots at the men who came closer to the two of you.

These men were not easing up.

“A little help would be nice, sweetheart”, he grunted as he ducked, his back flush with the container.

“Right”, you muttered as you stood, taking out your pistol and reloading the mag and snapping it into place, taking aim as you shot at the men on the other side of the roof.

“What the fuck do they want”, you heard him curse next to you, taking another shot as one of the men fell to the ground. “We need to get out of here.”

“Oh really? I thought I’d set up a picnic”, you rolled your eyes.

His head snapped towards you, glaring and unamused before yanking you back behind the container. The bullet barely missed you.

“Stay focused”, he bit out.

“God you’re controlling” you made another shot, “Does it help inflate your massive ego knowing you’re calling the shots right now?”

“You’re annoying, you know that right?” the irritation evident in his tone and it made you smirk. You enjoyed getting under his skin.

“Never had anyone complain before, people love me”

“If you could stop talking and actually focus, we can get out of this shithole alive”, he forced.

“Thanks but I don’t need you to boss me around.”, you ducked before shooting back, dropping the mag and reloading.

“Clearly you do.”, he growled, aiming at the men, shooting one in the leg and another in the shoulder. “Watch for the guy with the patch.”

You narrowed in on the man Red described, the goon pulling out a grenade, about to throw it before you got a clear shot of his head, the bullet hitting its mark, his body thumping to the ground.

“Got him. Are you happy now?”, you straightened, seeing as all the bodies laid on the ground.

“Ecstatic”, he muttered, uncocking his gun and reloading the bullets. “We need to leave.”

“I think I can handle myself.”

“Oh my..”, he placed a hand on his helmet, almost like he was trying to calm down. “Can you not be difficult for once.”

“I was doing fine..”, you trailed off as he imposed on your space, taking up all the air in proximity and making you silent.

“You set off the security system when you broke into the server room.”, he loomed over you, his stance on guard and his muscles flexed.

“That wasn’t me.”, you bit out. “Someone else must’ve tipped the alarm, but I was careful.”

“You always have some excuse.”

“It wasn’t me”, your fists tightened. “I had it under control.”

“You were being cornered, outnumbered, and getting shot at, I wouldn’t call that under control”

“I didn’t ask for your help”, you glared at him.

The tension in his shoulders showed his irritation, “You never ask for help. That’s your problem.”

“And you’re always in the fucking way. That's yours.”, you bit back.

“God, we need to-”, he paused, “Fuck, here we go.”, he scoffed before grabbing your arm, pulling you behind him, his body shielding you as he unloaded his entire mag. More men came through the doors, rushing towards the both of you.

Red charged, throwing punches as you followed with the other goon behind him. Four of them focused on taking down you and Red. You jumped over one of them, and swung your leg around, kicking one of them in the jaw as they dropped to the ground. You ran towards the other goon, watching as he pulled out a knife and trying to strike you with it. You twisted your body around his attacks, dodging each one and hitting him in the gut.

The goon punched you, trying to dig the blade into your side as you threw yourself back, pushing yourself off the ground and disarming his weapon, throwing it to the ground. He grabbed your arm, flinging you over his head and slamming you down. You felt the ache in your back, but you couldn’t focus on the pain, you needed to get out.

You looked over at Red, watching as he fought off two men at the same time, both of them delivering and receiving hits from the hooded vigilante.

You focused, running towards the goon who was trying to kill you, punching directly under his jaw and his head snapping to the side with your second blow. His body dropped to the ground, turning as you ran over to help Red.

You jumped on the man’s shoulders, using your dagger and digging it into the side of his neck, his body toppling to the ground. Red quickly secured a hold on his goon, tightening his grip and cracking his neck sideways before throwing his body carelessly on the ground. You sucked in a breath as you took in the blood that splattered all over you. Your hands were covered, not that it was unusual, you were used to it.

“For someone so smart you get yourself in stupid fucking situations”, Red mocked.

“Yeah well, it comes with the job.”, you wiped the sweat off your forehead, looking up at him and sitting in silence.

Red did a quick overview, his senses kicking off as he watched you mess with something in your utility belt. The infrared in his helmet exposed the movement in the dim lit roof. His eyes narrowed, alarms going off. He noticed the staggered movements of a body, raising a gun and aiming for you. Without hesitating, he lunged, pulling you into him and pushing the both of you to the ground.

“What the hell?!”, you exclaimed, watching as he aimed his gun at the darkness, before heading a thud of a body. You watched as he narrowed his eyes, pulling you to your feet with him.

“Fucker was still alive.”, was all he said as he scanned through the roof again. “Almost put a bullet through your skull.”

God, how many times had he saved your ass tonight?

“It's clear.”, he motioned, you following behind him as he reached the ledge of the building. You stayed silent, shifting from one foot to the other before you swallowed your pride and broke the elongated silence.

“Thanks, for everything. For tonight.”, you forced out, hating that you had to thank him for saving you. You were always careful, tonight was just…. Bad luck.

“Yeah. Whatever.” Red’s voice was firm, but you didn’t fail to notice how it had a miniscule softness to it. It was less harsh than normal and it threw you off. You rubbed the back of your arm, feeling a vibration in your pocket as you took out your transmitter.

The message sprawled simply, but made your gut drop.

Sionis Industries, 2200 hours, Tomorrow. BM

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion and annoyance, turning as Red stayed focused on you. What did Sionis want now? To torture you some more with his ridiculous tasks? Come onto you a little stronger? God, could he just leave you alone for once.

“Duty calls.”, you waved the device before shoving it back in its holder, turning away and jumping to the other building and disappearing.

Red watched after you, a tugging in his gut before brushing off the feeling. He couldn’t deny you were stubborn, hot-headed, smart… charming. Different than before. It made his irritation towards you lessened a sliver. He ignored the thought, leaving in silence as he stepped over the bodies of the men and disappeared into the night.

The room was empty, as you pushed the door open, three guards lingering at the entrance as you moved deeper into the room. Your eyes fell on Sionis leaning back in his leather chair, his gaze fixated outside and seeing you in the reflection. His gaze darkened as he turned, fixated on you like a predator. You hadn’t told Penguin about the meeting tonight, wanting to ensure Sionis’ reason behind meeting with you wasn’t for something completely unrelated to Red.

“Y/n, glad you could make it.”, his voice rang through the empty room, the windows surrounding every side of the room making you feel exposed. His corporate building was smack in the middle of Gotham, it was both strategic and dangerous. “Sit. We have business to discuss.”

“I’d prefer to stand”, you said confidently, not letting your nerves get to you. Sionis stared at you with serious eyes.

“I said. Sit.”, his voice was sharp, a vein popping on his forehead. When you refused to sit, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the desk and smashed it to the ground. Your body stayed still and held his eyes but a small fraction of you wanted to flinch. “I don’t have time for you to play these games, Y/n.”

“Then get to the point, Sionis.”, you spit out.

His maniacal laugh echoed as he moved towards you, his body towering over you in pure greed, anger, hatred. You could sense his itch to hurt someone, to punch them or even kill them. He wouldn’t touch you. You knew that much. He couldn’t risk losing his deal with Penguin, it would ruin his entire process to getting Red out of the picture.

“I just don’t understand, sweetheart.”, he spoke loudly as he picked up the glass filled with his whiskey, the bottle shattered at his feet. “It’s been almost two months. Why haven’t you caught the son of a bitch yet?”

Your jaw tightened, the reminder burning through you as you watched his calculative and taking note of your every word. “I’m doing everything I can. He has an upper hand, Sionis. He’s calculative, quick, and has eyes and ears all over the city. He’s always two steps ahead.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re doing everything you can. This dirty piece of shit has been destroying my jobs! I’ve lost millions! Maybe my last request was too mired in subtlety. I want this man dead. Now, when I say dead, I mean seriously dead! Beaten, broken, his head mounted on my wall kind of dead! Either do it or I’ll convince Penguin for you to take his place instead.”

God, you never hated anyone more than Sionis. Red even didn’t make her as angry as Sionis did. He was ruthless, power-hungry, unhinged, and just purely psychotic. You were surprised at how tame he had been the past month, Roman Sionis did not have a reputation for being calm and composed. He was open and aggressive and that made him the top of the Criminal food chain. He was the one person you did not fuck with or betray. It always ended with someone getting tortured, beaten half to death, or straight up killed.

“Don’t forget I work for Penguin, not you.”, your eyes narrowed as you shoved your face in his a little more. “I’ll take care of Red Hood on my own time. I still have other jobs the Boss asks of me.”

Sionis fists clenched at his sides, his foot tapping on the floor as he analyzed your glare, looking for just the tiniest, miniscule chip in your facade. You were good at keeping things hidden, you never let anyone break through your walls. That was the only way to survive. Your stance solidified and your gaze hardened.

“I already cost him hundreds of thousands, he won’t let me take another hit at him so easily after busting two of his operations.”

Sionis’ smirk widened into a sinister, full smile, “You think a couple hundred thousand is anything? I lost millions! Get this fucker’s body on my desk soon or I will start shooting bullets down someone’s fucking throat.”

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than that bond you have on his head.”, you took a step back, his hand grabbing you.

“If you get his body on my desk by the end of the month I’ll double the bond.”

A million dollars.

You could be free. It was all you needed to finally get away. The last of your savings to put you in a secure spot. You already wanted to get rid of Red, the past few days meaning nothing to you in how he treated you. You knew it was all for his own selfish motives and this would be your selfish motive. A million dollars. That would make anyone go crazy.

“Consider it done.”

Sionis smirked, his dark face gaining more of an ugly maniacal appearance to it as he loosened his grip on your arm. “Good”, he hummed, returning to his desk. “If you fail, I’ll make sure to do my own look as to why.”

“Don’t waste your time. It’ll be done.”, you said finally, seeing his eyes follow you as you turned and left through the door, the guards letting you out before you reached the elevator. You clicked the lobby button and sat in your thoughts as you contemplate your next move. A million. It wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things. Relocating, moving, starting somewhere new, that would take the majority of the money, but it was enough to get you started.

The ring of the elevator brought your attention back to reality, stepping out into the lobby and heading out the door. You didn’t have a choice. You needed the money, you needed this assignment, you needed to get rid of Red. Your life quite literally depends on it.

The air outside was fresh, a stark contrast to the suffocating feeling inside of Sionis’ office. You took a deep breath, calming yourself before walking back home. You couldn’t let Sionis win, but right now, you were at his mercy.

Red needed to be taken care of.

Even though a part of you felt cold at the thought, it was the only way.

A/N

Hello everyone!

So so many of you have been sending me messages on here saying how much you love this story so far and it makes me so happy that you’re enjoying it! We finally get to see more of Red and Reader slowly get to know each other outside of the masks. I know it’s still picking up but the upcoming chapters will be full of more progression!

Again I cannot thank you enough and please leave comments, messages, or any questions!

See you next week xx.

[httpscomexe]

Forbidden Secret Desire 3

Summary: You’re finally starting to fit in when you freak out in front of everyone. But twenty side eyes later and a lot of forgiveness from your friend Kurt, you discover a scary secret.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Panic attack, manipulation, hidden cameras, finally not as much awkwardness, social dissociation, being in the social eye. Logan is an official warning starting this chapter as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Word Count: 4542 (All other Chapters here) Chapter 4

Tags: @remmyj10 @sammyluvsfics @badbishsblog @dickmaster3000

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again. 

Enjoy your Forbidden Secret Desire...

“Alright, everyone, find a partner.” You shouldn’t be surprised that Logan was your teacher for your third period class. You remembered Hank and Logan talking about it the other day in the lab, but it still shocked you for some reason, maybe it was something else that surprised you, like the fact that he doesn’t just let everyone do whatever so he could get it over with. You knew he would be the substitute for both your third and fifth period classes for the rest of this week, and only because Xavier was out on some mission. The thing that bothered you the most now, was that you couldn’t partner up with anyone, and you knew no one would want to partner up with you. So you just watched as everyone else excitedly ran towards their best friends.

“Wanna be my partner?” A hand lands on your shoulder, making you flinch a little. It was Kurt of course. “We have a new student today and my normal partner is their guide.” He explains.

“Uh, yea sure. Cool.” Cool? 

“Cool,” he smiles, his little fangs showing under his lips.

“Everyone have a partner?” Everyone nods, including you. “Good, find a place on the floor and sit in front of your partner.” You follow Kurt to an open spot, there were only about ten other kids in the class so it wasn’t too hard. “Once you’re sitting with your partner, find three things you both have in common. You have five minutes to talk amongst yourselves, time starts now.” You realise he’s reading every instruction from a pamphlet, that helped it make more sense. “Also apparently the three things you have in common cannot be common questions such as colours, animals, etcetera.” He finishes, placing the pamphlet down on the teachers desk. “Now your time starts now.” He picks up his phone, and starts the timer.

“So uh. What are some uncommon questions then?” You shrug, trying to think of a question with him. Why do they have to be uncommon Xavier? What the fuck? You wonder and listen to other students' conversations, but everyone is trying to figure out a question just like you and Kurt.

Your eyes turned back to him, and his index fingers were rubbing his temples, it was actually frustrating him. So now you understand the task. It’s almost impossible to come up with a question that no one commonly asks, so of course, thinking is stressing everyone out. It was anger management after all.

“If you were a unicorn, what colour would you want to be? I’d probably wanna be white.” You tell him, shrugging a little, hoping it would calm his frustration.

“Oh yea. I’d probably be white also, I get tired of being blue.” He chuckles a little.

“Okay if you were a dragon, would you breathe fire or something else?”

“I'd probably want to breathe ice.”

“I think it would be cool to be able to choose.” You tell him, sitting back up and crossing your arms in your lap.

“If you were forced to do one subject for the rest of your life, what would you choose?” He asks you, understanding the project now.

“Definitely science.”

“Same, it’s a more fun subject.”

“Especially compared to anger management.” You joke, making him chuckle quietly. “Okay, one more question.” You prop your elbows on your thighs as you look at him. The rule is no common questions, so Xavier wants us to ask uncommon questions, with common answers.

“If everything in the world could only be flavoured one thing, what flavour would you choose?”

“I would choose vanilla. It’s plain, I can't get tired of it.”

“I would probably choose green apples, but not too sour.”

“How about the scent?”

“Scent I would choose vanilla.” He tells you, one again laughing to himself.

“Same, and there’s our three questions.” You turn your head to look at the projector, there was about a minute left and Logan was going around and asking groups how everything was doing. In another direction, a kid who could harness fire had smoke coming from the back of his head as he thought of another question.

“Alright and how are you two doing?” Logan asks Kurt and then his eyes also move to you.

“Good, we just finished.”

“No common questions?” You both shake your heads. “Good, you’re the only pair to finish so far.” He mumbles, moving onto the next group.

“So what’re you doing after your last class?” Kurts asks you, leaning forward to ask the question, his eyes trained on you.

“I’m supposed to help Hank- Mr. McCoy with another project.”

“You do that everyday.” He leans back on his palms.

“Yea, I never have anything better to do. Unless something comes up then I cancel.”

“So he doesn’t ask you for help? You just kind of pop in?” You nod.

“Unless he asks me to. Then it can be important… it’s usually stupid.” He smiles slightly.

“So my friends and I are having a little sleepover in my room tonight.”

“Oh…” You move your hands together, once again your thumb begins to pick at your skin.

“Yea, it would be cool if you came by. We're gonna have pizza, some drinks, and we're gonna watch a movie.”

“What movie?” You ask, the timer reaching zero as Logan walks back to the desk to turn it off.

“Whatever we pick out of the hat. Last week it was Big Hero 6.” He shrugs.

“Uh, yea. I’ll try, what time?”

“Around 9PM is normally when the others show up.” You nod in understanding, then Logan speaks up.

“Okay so, it says here that you guys are all supposed to stand up and share your groups three questions.” He tells everyone, reading the pamphlet out loud. “But I don’t wanna hear it. So the rest of the ten minutes in class is to yourselves. Enjoy.” He tosses the papers back on the desk and the students immediately begin talking amongst themselves. Talking about anything they could come up with. The news, food, anything, while you and Kurt stood back up, he walked to his friend group expecting you to follow. But you only make your way back to your desk to sit on your phone for the remainder of class. Logans eyes settling on you, and you know you’re not supposed to be on your phone, but he doesn’t bother making a scene, instead, his eyes rest on you, occasionally moving to other students to see what they’re doing or moving to look at his email, but the majority of the ten minutes, all he could look at was you.

And then the bell finally rang, and everyone collected their items in their bags before leaving the classroom for lunch.

Normally for lunch you’d just sit in your room on your bed, finishing any work you had to finish and if you were hungry you’d either tough it out or you would’ve ordered something before your third class ended. Today, Kurt changed your plans.

“Hey, we ordered extra, we were hoping you would also sit with us today?” He asks, holding out a box of food that smelt amazing. So you nod, and follow behind him to the little area his friends were sitting. They all smiled up at you from their spots on the floor, and you joined silently. This dude just bribed you with food.

They all chat amongst themselves, and you simply poke at your food with your plastic fork, occasionally taking a small bite. You’ve never been the type of person who’s able to eat an entire meal in front of people you’ve never spoken to without feeling awkward.

They talked about class, and classwork, and talked a little about hanging out in Kurt's room tonight, but that was about it. Occasionally, there would be an inside joke that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t mind. You kept your eyes on your food, and that was it.

“So what about you?” Jean nudges you, making you look up to see everyone's eyes on you. What was the question? You ask yourself, panic rising in your chest.

“Yea, Y/N. Where would you be if you didn’t have to be here?” Alex, you’re a saviour.

“Uh, well…” You think about it for a moment, not sure where you’d wanna be. Definitely not with your family, you don’t have a home or caring family outside of the mansion. Hell you didn’t even have friends inside the mansion. “I don’t really know.”

“Oh come on. Paris? Mexico?” Scott- or Cyclops asks you.

“Oh, like where do I want to visit?”

“Or live.” Kurt cuts in, smiling at you.

“I would choose Russia.” You shrug, and they all stare at you.

“Imma be honest I was expecting the Maldives or some sort of beach.” Jean laughs a little. “But why Russia? There’s nothing there but snow and vodka.” You nod.

“It’s where I was born…”

“No way…” Alex scoffs. “You don’t look Russian. And you’ve only been here for what? Three years?”

“Almost.” You sigh a little. “About two years and eight months.”

“You literally never talk to anyone.” Jean says out loud, and you look up at her, your eyes daring her to continue. “How do you not have an accent?” Rude. Your eyes squint slightly.

“Okay, guys, next subject.” Kurt says, a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “Actually, what kind of pizzas are you guys wanting for tonight? I’m ordering this time.” He takes out his phone and opens a pizza ordering app.

“Can we get Hawaaian?”

“No, come on, meat lovers!”

“That's gross, why not just normal pepperoni?”

“Well I don’t like sauce.”

“I like alfredo.”

“Guys come on, just choose two. I’m getting two pizzas.”

“So get Hawaiian and meat lovers.”

“What about sauce?”

“Just get a sauce cup, or like five sauce cups? I love sauce.”

“Well I hate it.”

It was too much. Too much back and fourth, and you honestly couldn’t stand it. It was making your head whirr and your brain was pounding as they argue about something as simple as pizza. Then they start arguing about sodas and it’s just all this back and fourth. It was too much.

“Hey wait where are you going?” Alex is the first one to ask about your sudden leave as you get up from the ground and throw away your trash, but you don’t walk back towards them. “She’s not answering me.” He tells the rest of the group, as if it wasn’t already obvious.

You just don’t think you would’ve been able to muster one more word from their lips.

“Hey! Y/N, wait!” You hear Kurt's voice call after you and footsteps behind you, and your face heats up as he gets closer, your arms crossing as you try to console yourself. Then his fucking hand touching your shoulder and he turns you around, one hand on each of your shoulders as he tries to keep you steady, but it only freaks you the fuck out.

“Do NOT touch me!” You shout. The entire eating area goes quiet as each pair of eyes lands on you. Shit.

“Hey, uh… Calm down a little…”

“Do not tell me what to do…” You threaten, but it comes out as more of a warning.

“Well uh… you’re probably freaking everyone out with your hands right now…” What?

In your frustration, you hadn’t even realised you had pushed him off of you, his hands were up in defence, but his shirt had a burn hole in it that wasn’t there before.

Looking down at your hands, there was a red and blue glow emitting from your fingers all the way through your veins. You could only imagine how your eyes looked as you stared down at your hands in embarrassment. Oh, right. You can’t control your powers when you’re stressed, frustrated, sad, mad, happy. You always have to be just… neutral.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” Another voice calls and Professor Lehnsherr approaches you with a soft smile. “Come with me so you can cool down.” He tells you, gently placing his hand on your back to lead you out of the eating area before anything escalates.

“Alright.” He sighs, and closes your bedroom door behind you. “Want to tell me what happened back there?” You shake your head. It would’ve sounded pathetic. “That’s okay. Oh honey, don’t sit down.” He holds a hand out to grab your arm but doesn’t, knowing damned well he would burn himself if he touched you. “You’ll burn the sheets.” He reminds you, and you take a few steps away from the bed, but bring your hands up to your face to rub your temples, attempting with all of your effort to control your breathing. Got it, so personal questions and constant back and forth conversations stress you out. You tell yourself. “So… I think you should spend the rest of the day to yourself and-”

“No. No, I have to go to class, remember I said I can’t skip anymore just because I can’t fix myself.” You tell him, reminding him of the first time you freaked out and made the promise.

“Y/N, it’s not about fixing yourself, it’s about controlling your emotions.”

“Well everyone else is able to! Why can’t I?”

“Because everyone in this school associates themselves with others.” You hate to say it, but he was right. Everyone else is used to public stress, because they constantly have it.

“Well I still cannot and will not skip the rest of the day.”

“Fine then. Skip just this fourth period, then go to fifth period, but if you feel like you’re not up for it, then send me a text and I’ll send your substitute a text also so he knows you’re not coming.” You don’t say anything. “Sounds good?”

“Yea. Yes. Uh huh, that- yes… that sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll let Hank know you’re not up for fourth period, then like I said.” He makes his way to the door and holds the handle. “Let me know if you need the entire rest of the day off. Okay?” You nod and give him an ‘mhm,’ before he finally leaves.

Okay what normally calms you down..? You wonder, looking around your room and heading towards your desk to search for the little paper you write those types of things on. There was painting your nails, colouring books, sitting in your dark closet because there’s no sounds in there, and then there was a nice shower or bath. Cold, shower or bath of course. You decide you should just do that.

You roll down the sleeves of the jacket that you’ve had on all day, and then unzip it and throw it off into your dirty laundry basket. The bell for lunch had just rung, so the sound of other students chatting in the halls made way into your room. How you wish the walls and doors were thicker. You wonder as you begin to slide off your leggings, also discarding them in your laundry basket before walking into your bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water run cold as you step into the tub with your hair up so you could just relax in the water.

As soon as you’re done, you wrap a towel around your body and step out, perfect timing as the fourth class ends and the bell rings throughout the school walls. Then there’s that annoying whirring sound again as you stand in front of your desk, going through the clothes you’d swore you would go through that morning.

After choosing a plain blue sweater and another pair of black leggings, along with your matching set of panties and a bra, you hear yet another clicking sound, the same you heard from last night. You don’t remember hearing it earlier, so you again assume it’s your neighbours, doing something in their room during the ten minute passing period. Annoying. But you wonder what they could possibly be doing with a camera that loud, and that often. It did only start yesterday, so you hoped it would bore them out eventually.

After what felt like a thousand more clicks, on top of getting fully dressed, you decide you’d be able to make it to class. Your nerves were cool, and you didn’t feel as frustrated as before.

So after about a minute with your palm lying on the door handle, you finally had the courage to open the door with about two minutes left to make it to your fifth period, meditation.

Walking back into the halls felt like you were a fox on a bunny farm. All eyes were on you, and as usual, everyone was whispering about you. The only difference between now and before was they didn’t even try to hide that they were talking about you. If you hadn’t been so used to this scene, you would’ve already freaked the fuck out. So instead, you easily and quickly make it to your first class, having enough of the staring eyes.

“Everyone brought their mat today like they were asked to on Friday?” Logan, also substituting for your fifth period.

Everyone takes their mats out of their bag, including you and everyone rolls it out on the floor in their assigned spot. Surprising considering there was a sub. Then again, it was Wolverine. You sit in your assigned spot as well, but a little further away from everyone. Not everyone had been there for the scene that had unfolded during lunch of course, some people were inside the cafeteria. But you knew that by now the word had spread inside and outside of the mansion.

“Today, we’re going to just relax.” His voice softens a little, becoming nearly soothing. “First I’m going to have you all do some stretches though, so will Jean please come to the front to lead the stretches?” He asks, watching as Jean stands with her mat and faces the entire class on the floor before beginning the stretches, the entire class of about thirty people this time copying her.

You watch as she moves to lie on her stomach, and you follow her movements slowly, placing your palms in front of you and pushing up to stretch, then you follow along all the rest of her simple stretches before she finishes and moves her mat back to her original spot.

“Okay, now here’s the video Xavier said to play.” A video on youtube comes onto the projector screen of an elderly woman sitting on a purple mat with her legs crossed, then she speaks into her camera, asking everyone to copy what she does, then the video goes silent for a moment before the sounds of waterfalls and chirping birds play, attempting to put the viewers mind at ease as everyone's eyes close, to apparently rid their eyes of distractions.

You’re ten minutes in. It’s actually peaceful. You tell yourself with your eyes closed, still sitting with your legs crossed on the floor and your hands on your knees.

“Here.” You hear a voice behind you, prompting you to open your eyes. “No, no. Close your eyes and face forward.” He tells you, and you do. He’s quiet enough so only you could hear him over the waterfall and birds. Then you feel his palm press gently on the middle of your back, causing you to straighten your posture as you involuntarily try to escape his touch. “I heard what happened. I didn’t expect you to show up to fifth.” He admits, letting his palm rest on your lower back, just above your ass, and you take a deep breath. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Fine.” You whisper back, matching his quiet tone so as not to interrupt anyones meditation.

“That’s good. I was worrying about you. I noticed you skipped the fourth period.” You hear him move next to you, and you open your eyes just enough so he doesn’t notice. Instead of kneeling, he was now crouching next to you on your right. His left hand moves to your left shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re alright. Just let me know if you ever need anything.” Emphasising “Anything,”  making it clear that he’d kick ass just for someone looking at you wrong.

You nod slightly, then in your mostly closed eyes, you see him move closer to you. Flinching as his left hand gently holds the side of your head, your lips parting just slightly as you feel his lips touch your temple. A gesture that was supposed to feel sweet, but everything in you was saying it was sinister. Of course, being you, you throw the red flag out of your head and settle on him just being a good friend. I mean he’s your professor. Surely it wouldn’t be more than that.

Right?

The meditation session ends and everyone rolls up their mats and are immediately glued back to their phones or talking to their friends obnoxiously. You also of course are guilty, turning on your phone to no notifications to reply to, as usual- Wait. I have a text? You open your phone to see the text with Kurt's name right next to it.

Kurt Wagner: I’m hoping you’re still coming tonight?

You: I don’t know… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.

Kurt Wagner: Hey it was an accident, and I’ve been meaning to throw that shirt away anyways.

You: Oh, well I hope it was just the shirt. I didn’t burn you right?

Kurt Wagner: Luckily no. You’re such a worry bug.

You: Sorry…

“Wait, where’s the pizza?” Alex is the first to notice as they all walk into the room, everyone eyes first landing on you sitting on Kurt's bed with your legs crossed.

“Well, turns out, Y/N doesn’t like pizza. So I got KFC, McDonalds, and Taco Bell.” Kurt explains, hopping off the bed and retrieving his TV remote. You didn’t even have a TV in your room. At least not anymore. “I know each of you likes at least one of these, so enjoy.” He tells them, turning back to see you snacking on a quesadilla.

“So what movie are we watching then?” Scott asks, grabbing a solid ten chicken pieces from the KFC bucket. “Have you guys pulled from the hat?”

“We have not.” He tells them, then disappears in his closet, reappearing a minute later with some fancy tophat that makes you smile a little. “Who wants to choose from the hat?”

“Make Y/N.”

“Yea, this is her first time, let her.”

“Just don’t let Scott choose, his hand is a magnet for Toy Story, and if I watch it again I’ll know the entire script by broken heart.”

“Okay, okay.” Kurt chuckles, holding the hat out in front of you and giving you an encouraging smile. “Lets let Y/N choose tonight then.” He says, and you angle your arm slightly to reach into the tophat and pull out the first piece of paper your fingers touch. “What did you get?”

They all stare at you as you open the little paper. “Finding Dory.” Your eyebrow quirks a little.

“Finally, we’ve been waiting for someone to choose that one.” Jean tells you and you roll the paper back up, handing it to Kurt and he puts it back in the hat then sets the hat on his desk.

“Alright, let's get this party started!”

Was the last thing anyone had said for over an hour, aside from Alex asking Jean if she was crying when baby Dory popped on the TV. So pretty much, the entire hang out was amazing so far. No complaints, no fighting, and best of all, you didn’t receive a single sidewards look.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, drawing your attention from the movie and you turn the brightness on your phone down as if you’re in a movie theatre to check the notification. A text from Professor Lehnsherr.

Metal Head: Have you received my email? I’ve been worried.

You: Sorry I’ve been busy. I’m fine now though. My computer is in my room so I haven’t seen it.

Metal Head: Well when you get the chance, please check the attachments I’ve sent you asap.

You: Alright.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asks, crawling close to you as you begin to stand up from the floor.

“Yea, just Mr. Lehnsherr asked me to check my email asap, which also means now.”

“You’re probably the only person who doesn’t just call him Magneto.” He adds on. “Can I come with you? I’ve never been in your room.”

“It’s nothing special, but sure.” You both stand up, and you head for the door with him behind you. Opening the door and heading straight to your room.

As soon as you get inside and close the door behind Kurt, you open the laptop that’s sitting on your bed and you punch in the password to check your emails.

“It’s actually really… woodsy in here.” Kurt tells you, looking around your room in astonishment. “It’s funny how every student's room has a different vibe, yours smells like pine.” He sits next to you on the bed, the side of his thigh touching yours.

“He just sent me a bunch of attachments, he’s been really into my work on nanotech so whenever he has a question he emails them to me.” You shrug, typing back a response to his question saying ‘does nanotech make a sound?’

As you type out the response and finish sending it. Kurt speaks again. “What is that whirring sound?” He asks, looking down at you and you look up at him after closing your screen. Your faces uncomfortably close.

“I actually have no idea. It’s been happening since last night, I just assumed whoever's my neighbour got something that makes that sound or maybe the AC is acting up.” You shrug and he stands up, his pointy ears twitching slightly as he picks up your build-a-bear.

“Nobody is in that room… The student who was sleeping there left a few months ago.” He tells you and you slowly get off the bed. Approaching him as he holds the bear. “Y/N… Where did you get this?” You gently take the bear in your hands.

“From the mall… There’s a build-a-bear shop there.”

“The day you went with Professor Howlett?”

“Yes.” You squint your eyes in confusion. “Was this always there…?” You mumble.

“I don’t know, was it?” Kurt asks, looking down at the little bear's right eye which seemed to have a spec of a glowing red spot on it.

Some panic gets to you, setting deep in your stomach, making you want to vomit. Who would put a camera in your bear? You ask yourself, and Kurt verbally asks the same question. “I don’t know… I’m going to bring it to Professor Howlett though… He’s the one that helped me stuff it.” Kurt only nods, and you wrap the bear in a shirt before putting it on the shelf in your closet and closing the door, leaving the camera to watch the dark…

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

House of the Dragon Fanfiction

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 4

“Dracarys.” When Ysilla said those words, her dragon breathed fire. She had the serving girl bring her a piece of raw meat.

Dragons didn't eat raw meat.

"Sƴz, riña," the Maester told her. He had been with her for six months now. A gift from her uncle after she visited King's Landing. (Good, child)

"Kirimvose," she answered. Her eyes fixed on her dragon. (Thank you)

Ysilla had been studying High Valyrian as soon as the Maester started to serve her, but her mother did not appreciate the King's gift. She said that there was no reason for him to be in Runestone.

"Mother, please!" she complained one night when her mother expressed the wish for the man to return to King's Landing.

"We don't need him here." She had answered.

"You may don't, but I do," Ysilla said. The shock on her mother's face was visible. Ysilla usually listened to whatever her mother said. It had been a strange feeling to be stubborn with her. But Ysilla could not let her lady mother send her teacher back to the Capital.

"I'm the only Targaryen who does not know High Valyrian," Ysilla explained. Her small hands clenched in fists. She wanted to be strong in front of her mother. She had to be.

"I've always told you to be proud of your blood. First Men's blood," her mother's words made Ysilla's eyes stung with tears.

"I remember," she said. But she wouldn't have backed down. "But I need to learn High Valyrian."

"You need to learn how to hawk," her mother answered firmly.

Ysilla felt so much rage in her.

"I'm not a goat; I'm a dragon!" Her mother's dark eyes widened. Shocked, she shared a look with her cousin, Ser Gerold Royce. At that moment, Ysilla understood that the words she had heard from Otto Hightower were true. It had been painful. But she knew what she had to do.

If Father sees I'm a good Targaryen, he will love me. Ysilla was sure of that. She did not act as a Targaryen at all. Her mother wanted her to be more similar to a Royce. But Ysilla was much more of that. She was a Targaryen princess. In a few years, he would have been a dragon rider. And when she would have grown up, she would have been like Visenya. She was more than a noble lady from the Vale. She was a Targaryen.

Father would be proud of me, she swore.

Ysilla would study all day. History, philosophy, calculus, politics, and High Valyrian. With the Master of the Dragonpit, she would speak only High Valyrian. She wanted to learn fast, especially when she found out that the war on the Stepstones was over.

"Father won!" Ysilla said happily to her uncle Gerold one day in the Godswood of Runestone. "He must have flown with Caraxes and burned them all."

Her uncle observed her in silence. His beard may have hidden half of his face. But she could see his lips tight in a thin line.

"You've changed, Ysilla, since you visited King's Landing," he said, making her smile.

"The Maester says that dragons feel other dragons," she answered, looking at the red leaves of the Heart Tree, "Maybe it had been the same with humans as well."

Her uncle took a deep breath. "Why are you so obsessed with these matters? You hardly speak of other topics, if not dragons."

Ysilla lowered her eyes. No one wanted to talk about those matters with her, as no one liked her dragon, her only friend.

"I'm a Targaryen," she said, "My father is Prince Daemon Targaryen."

"And your mother is Rhea Royce," he reproved her. Does she not share equal importance?"

"Of course she does," Ysilla muttered with a flush of shame. Since her dragon had been born, Ysilla and her mother had started to argue frequently. Her mother did not like Ysill's interests.

Ysilla wished not to argue with her mother. She had been very important to the little princess. She had been a role model, and Ysilla had so much respect for her. And she had raised Ysilla as a Royce. Proud as a Royce. But she wanted for Ysilla to forget that she was a Targaryen. And she could not. Ysilla had to show her father and everyone else that her mother was no goat. And that she was a dragon.

"You know I love you?" One evening, Ysilla asked her mother about it as they were dining.

"So sudden?" Her mother answered with raised eyebrows. Rhea Royce was not an openly loving woman, but Ysilla knew her mother cared for her.

"Do you?" Ysilla insisted stubbornly.

Her mother took a breath, "I do."

Ysilla seemed happy by her words, "And I'm sorry if in the last months I've been wilful."

"I'm glad you've realized it," her mother said, but Ysilla kept talking. " Why do you don't like that I'm a Targaryen?" Her mother took a breath. She put the knife in her hand and put it back on the table, but she did not answer. "Everyone in the realm wishes to say that their children have the blood of old Valyria."

Her mother observed her in silence for a moment, "The marriage between me and your father is a rich arrangement for the realm," Ysilla's eyes grew larger, leaning forward on the table. Her mother had never spoken of those matters with her. "But your father grew insufferable here. Insufferable of me," Ysilla listened quietly, "When I gave birth to you, your hair was as dark as your eyes. And he was there. He suggested that you were a bastard."

Ysilla lowered her eyes. It could not be possible. But why would her mother lie to her? There was no reason. So it must be true. But it could not be.

"He never wanted to see you," her mother said.

"I'm not a bastard," Ysilla whispered.

"No, you're not," her mother answered. Growing up, your hair and eyes proved it to everyone. But your father never accepted that."

"Why?" Ysilla asked, confused.

"He loathes me as I do him," she answered. And he would have broken the marriage off if he could make people think you were a bastard. That's why he never wants to see us." Ysilla lowered her gaze. "He loves his ambition, Ysilla. And you are more than him."

Ysilla felt confused. It all seemed absurd to her. Why would her father hate her mother? And why did he hate his daughter because of that? He had never talked to her. One could not just decide to hate someone, could they?

"All the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms, Ysilla," asked the Septa one morning.

Ysilla took a breath. "Aegon I the Conquerer. After him, there was his son, Aenys I. His mother was Queen Rhaenys. Then Maegor the Cruel. Then Jeaherys I. He was called The Old King, or the Wise, or the Conciliator. He ruled peacefully for half a century. But he had no heir."

"So what happened?" The Septa asked.

"He had to choose between his two nephews," Ysilla remembered, "Princess Rhaenys or Prince Viserys. And he chose Prince Viserys. Now King Viserys I."

"And who is to follow?"

"The King chose Princess Rhaenyra," Ysilla said. Then she frowned. No woman had been queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And when her Uncle chose Rhaenyra, Aegon was not yet born. So, the rightful heir should have been her father, Daemon Targaryen.

He loves his ambition. Ysilla remembered her mother's words. How did her father react to the King's decision?

And the Dragonstone folly. She remembered.

"What is it with Father and Dragonstone?" Ysilla asked before she could stop herself.

The Septa's eyes widened, "That is off-topic, princess."

"But I want to know," Ysilla said stubbornly. "Why was Father in Dragonstone? Rhaenyra is the Princess of Dragonstone, not Father."

"Ysilla," her mother's voice came from behind her, making her turn. The Septa was quick to stand up and bow to the Lady of Runestone. "Stop with those questions," Ysilla observed her mother; she was wearing her riding attire. She was surely going out to hawk. Then she came next to her daughter, caressing her hair, "I'm riding out," she said, "Do you remember your duties for today?"

Ysilla nodded, "History, then sawing lesson."

The High Valyrian, she thought.

"I'll be back to dine together," her mother said, putting on her glove, "Behave."

"And be proud," Ysilla muttered. That made her mother chuckle.

"I don't need to remind you that," she said, "You never fail to be proud." Ysilla smiled, observing her mother walking toward the door.

"Be careful," Ysilla said to her mother like she always did. The little princess didn't go out to hawk that much—her pony was too little. But her mother had told her that in six months, they would have gone hawking together. Her mother loved to hunt, but Ysilla could not wait to be on the dragon's back more.

"Skori jāhor nyke sagon naejot sōvegon issa zaldrīzes?" Asked Ysilla, stammering some of the words. Not sure she remembered them correctly. (When will I be able to fly my dragon?)

"Hāre jēdri, riña," the Maester answered, observing how Ysilla's dragon liked to be next to his rider. (Three years, girl)

Three years, and she would have been able to fly. Her dragon was growing every day more, surprising everyone. But the Maester told her that he was growing fast for his conditions.

"I really need to find a name soon," she said, observing the violet eyes of her dragon. "A fighter name." Then he looked at the sky, making a little sound. Then he looked back at Ysilla, making the same sound. He seemed a little agitated, but he calmed down when the girl touched his head.

The Maester had told her that she and the creature had a strong connection. "Hae dārilaros Daemon se Caraxes." (Like Prince Daemon and Caraxes)

Ysilla looked up at the man. He had been in King's Landing all his life, tending the Targaryens' Dragons. He had seen all of them: King Viserys and Balerion, The Black Dread, Princess Rhaenys and Meleys, Rhaenyra, and Syrax, and, of course, Ysilla's father and Caraxes.

"Gōntan kepa gūrotan Caraxes lēda zirȳla, skori istas naejot Zaldrīzesdōron?" Ysilla spoke slowly, thinking about every word. (Did Father take Caraxes with him when he went to Dragonstone?)

"Hen rhinka, riña." the man answered. His tone was strange. Trying to hide anger. But it was there. Why anger? She wanted to know. (Of course, child)

He would have never answered if she had asked inquisitively, she knew. But maybe that anger could be used in some way.

"Such a vile act," Ysilla said, using the same tone Otto Hightower had used. "Dragonstone belongs to Princess Rhaenyra."

"The stolen egg was much more vile," when she turned to the man, his eyes were wide. Regretting those words. "Forgive me, princess," he was quick to add, bowing his head.

Her father had stolen a dragon egg. Why would he do such a thing?

Her dragon looked at the sky again, flipping his small black wings.

"There's no need," she answered, trying to do her best to hide the shock in her tone, "I already knew," she lied, "My mother always tells me about my father's deeds. And they are not always positive words." She thought fast. Her egg had been chosen for her as soon as she was born; that was the Targaryen's tradition. If her father had taken an egg, there was only a reason. She felt rage thinking about that possibility.

"A dragon to a bastard," she said, noticing how the stolen egg was a sensitive topic for the man. "That's an insult."

Would he really steal an egg to give it to a bastard when he had insulted his mother by saying that Ysilla was one?

"Fortunately, no bastard was born, as far as it's known," he answered, "It was just an act to challenge the King's authority."

He loves his ambition, Ysilla.

Didn't he support his brother as King? Or he didn't support Rhaenyra as the future Queen? Why did he take that egg?

"Skoros drōmon iksin bona?" Ysilla asked not turning to the man. (What egg was that?)

"Se drōmon hen Dreamfyre. Dārilaros Rhaenyra ēdas chosen ziry syt zirȳla morghe lēkia, Baelon," Ysilla felt the blood in her veins run cold. (The egg of Dreamfyre. Princess Rhaenyra had chosen it for her dead brother, Baelon)

It was such a vile act to steal his dead nephew's egg. To give it to who? If he hated his wife, who was he planning to give it to? She would have liked to ask more, but her dragon started to growl, agitated. He flapped his wings again and kept looking at the sky.

That was strange. He had never done that. He was a calm dragon, never making many sounds, but he was upset and not able to stay still.

"Skoros iksis jāre va?" Ysilla asked, glancing at the man before walking to her dragon, kneeling at his side, "Lykiri," she said, trying to gain her dragon's attention, but he wasn't listening. (What is going on?) (Calm down)

"Maester?" She asked, seeing the man looking at the sky as well. His face was dark with worry.

"Dohaeris," she said, focusing back on her dragon. He seemed somewhat drawn to those words and glanced at her with his purple eyes.

A strange feeling went down through Ysilla's back. A shiver full of dread.

I want Mother, she thought instinctively. Feeling her eyes stung with tears.

"Ysilla," The voice of her uncle Gerold made her turn with a gasp. The man was behind her. His face was pale, his hands were trembling, and on his clothes, there was blood.

She stood up, trembling. Her eyes never lived the red of the blood.

"The Lady Rhea…"

Ysilla felt cold as her dragon roared with wrath.

_________________________________________

Tag list: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @roxannequeen @shadowzena43

[deadgurlfilmz]

CHAPTER 1- “what. The. F*ck”

Ford pines x platonic!teenage!reader

Summary- Reader and their friends go out to the forest. When reader is looking for a secluded area to pee instead they find a creepy statue. That definitely won’t lead to nothing more… right?

Warnings- teeny bit of swearing, reader is gender neutral, this is probably the only time these friends will be in the story they are only here to add context for the chapter.

it’s been 4 months since stand and Ford returned from their travels on the Stan o’ War and for the most part life has been normal. fords house is still ‘The Mystery Shack’ Stan and Soos co-manage the shack, Ford still continues his studies of Gravity Falls even writing a 4th jornal (it’s more of a personal jornal just for Dipper) and best of all there is no Bill. The pines family is no longer being terrorised by demonic triangle. YAY!

Now for you a 17 year old kid living in Gravity Falls. You are very ordinary you go to high school, have a close group of friends, decent grades and like every other teenager in Gravity falls you want to get the hell out of there. Even with Gravity Falls weirdness for example the gnomes you’ve encountered (that tried to force you to become their wife), and the ghost that haunts you’re old hangout spot (the abandoned 24h convenient store) the weird and supernatural just never really interested you.

Now for the present. It is a Saturday afternoon July 2017 you and your friends (Maren, Rebekah, Owen, and Julia) All decided to go deep Into the forest just for something to do. Owen and Julia were walking ahead of you, Maren, Rebekah, and You were gossiping about some junior his name was something like Gary? Gideon? Definitely on those lines. You spoke about his criminal history what is insane as at the baby age of 11 this boy was in prison. You all continued walking until you shouted to the group.

“Wait guys! I gotta pee” you shout so Owen and Julia would hear aswell.

Rebekah turned to you “babe… where about are you gonna pee? We are miles away from any bathroom.”

You look around and see a patch of land totally hidden with thick trees. “I’ll go over there” you point.

“Cool. We’ll just be here” Owen nods.

You walk over to the “pee spot” you walk into the tall trees and as you do the vibe changes from ‘normal woods’ to ‘suddenly I don’t need to pee anymore’. You feel as if you are being watched. You walk further in trying to shake the feeling. That is until you see a stone statue sticking out from the ground. It’s triangle shaped. On the one hand it’s creepy but on the other how can anything look creepy when it’s wearing a top hat and bow tie? You take a quick picture of it muttering under your breath “ahaha this is cool” and quickly leave (without peeing). You head back to the group not mentioning the statue you saw. A few hours pass and it’s getting dark so all of you head home.

When you 5 make it back to main gravity falls you all go your separate ways saying byes. The walk to your house isn’t long just 5 minutes away from lazy Susan’s diner. You reach you’re home taking out you’re key from you’re pocket and letting yourself in, you heat up left over pasta in the microwave and go to your room. You place the bowl on your dresser when you see a black book sitting on your bed. You know for a fact you didn’t put it there. Curiosity takes over and you pick it up skimming through the pages and taking in it’s horrifying illustrations and stories.

Two things you notice about the book-

1) the book was covered in drawing of the statue you saw in the woods. (Strange)

2) there was one man who repeatedly showed up. You recognise his face from somewhere… you take a moment to think that’s when it hits you the mystery shack! This is the man who owns the mystery shack!! You need to talk to him ask him what the fuck is going on.

You close the book and toss it under your bed not wanting to look at it any longer the only thing you can say is

“What. The. Fuck.”

—————————————————————

Okay!!! Chapter 1 done. Yay!! I know the dates and ages of characters I’ve used may not line up with the actual plot of GF but oh well just try to ignore it lol

[theannotateddean]

“The bright day is done,” said Benjamin, as if Fence were personally responsible, “and we are for the dark.”

Chapter 4, The Hidden Land

This is a verbatim echo of Iras to Cleopatra in Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra, Act V Scene ii:

CLEOPATRA. He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. [Whispers CHARMIAN] IRAS. Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the dark. CLEOPATRA. Hie thee again: I have spoke already, and it is provided; Go put it to the haste. CHARMIAN. Madam, I will.

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

JJK FF/ROYAL GUARD

CHAPTER TEN | SERIES

Ch. 1

Ch. 2

Ch. 3

Ch. 4

Ch. 5

Ch. 6

Ch. 7

Ch. 8

Ch. 9

Ch. 10

When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess

Word count: 2.1k

Rating: 15+

Genre + warnings: Fluff, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. Dead bodies - corpses and much blood. JK kills everyone who dares to hurt his princess. MAKES PROMISES TO BE SAFE. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!

a/n: Finally a small update, guys! I will stop making excuses and will hope you will not kill me for vanishing like every time I promise coming back sooner but still...yeah. I hope you forgive me.

You were standing by the large window.

The castle’s walls seemed to surround you.

The windows let out on a long stretch of fields leading to the border of the woods.

Since your fallen angel left, it has been three hours  since Jungkook disappeared. Three more hours without food; three hours without hearing news or seeing anyone besides the servants running around like little heads in a tornado.

It made you restless.

Your legs started moving before your mind did. The white dress was fluttering behind you while you walked through the corridor.

It’s been three hours.

Three more hours and no updates. Your thoughts were racing and your stomach was growling. But there was nothing you could do, nothing you can say, until Jungkook returns.

As you turned the corner into the hall where the servants and guards resided, you stopped suddenly. Something was wrong.

You frowned.

As you neared the palace exit, a witch-maid stopped you before you can leave further.

“I’m sorry, my queen but the king didn’t allowed you to leave the castle for safety reasons. We still are under attack,”  the female servant said apologetically. “Please return to your chambers.”

She tried to take your hands, which you quickly pushed away.

What were they thinking?

That Jungkook would come back in less than ten minutes?

No. Jungkook wouldn’t. Not now.

He is probably dead. Killed by vampires, maybe. Maybe captured in battle and taken prisoner. What if he got hurt?

No. He’d never let a vampire touch him unless…unless…

You ran outside and searched in every part of the grounds. No sign of him anywhere.

Then why the hell haven’t you heard anything yet?!

‘I’m not letting any vampire near my guard,’ you thought fiercely. ‘And if they do get near my angel, I swear to God...’

Looking up, the sun is barely visible. A thin veil of clouds covering half the sky, dark grey.

There was no sign of any vampire in sight.

Where the heck is everyone if there is attack?!

Tears welled in your eyes as you sat down on the ground and leaned your back against the stone wall of the castle’s exterior. There was a small pond a few meters to your side, a beautiful blue lake reflecting the sky above it. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, casting an eery orange light over everything in the vicinity.

Your heart was beating fast, threatening to burst through your ribcage. Tears stinging your eyelids, you felt your cheeks getting wet.

You wiped your tears off angrily. You are being foolish.

Jungkook wouldn't be dead. He can fight for himself but he knows how much you love him and if something happened to him…

Oh god, please don't let something happen to him. He’s strong but he's too young to die. Please God, let him be okay. Let him survive.

Jungkook’s POV

The sun was setting when Jungkook flew over the woods of his territory with his sword in hand, prepared to defend his home.

As he descended closer, he noticed many vampires fighting against the guards on the other end of the forest clearing.

With the sharp edge of his sword ready to strike, he landed heavily between several vampires, sending them flying to different parts of the field.

His presence was enough to scare most of them away, leaving two vampires with their backs turned towards him who weren’t afraid of him whatsoever.

Without hesitation Jungkook lunged forward with his sword and stabbed one of the vampires in the back with all his force.

His opponent fell, unconscious and bleeding, but still alive.

Jungkook ignored him as he jumped to the other vampire, slashing his blade across his throat before landing behind the first one again to stab him in the back.

Two vampires had surrounded Jungkook.

One with blonde hair, the other with red. They charged at him simultaneously.

Jungkook dodged each of them with ease.

Suddenly, the blood lust filled air vanished.

A cold, piercing sound echoed through the forest.

In a matter of seconds, the second vampire was dead. His eyes staring wide open as if asking for help and pain. The red head also fell lifelessly onto the ground.

Blood flowing from his neck, he didn’t have a chance to scream.

Slicing remaining vampires in half, the blood was the only thing left on him when he finally finished. Seeing his guards dead, he could only  watch them fall and the bodies turn pale and gray, their skin wrinkling and turning into dust.

The other vampires that were still around looked at him with horror and shock.

They wanted to run. They wanted to kill him.

But they couldn’t move, not a single muscle in their bodies dared to move; not even their hearts.

“You’ve been warned,” he snarled,” Attack what’s mine again, you will be taken as my trophies  for all eternity."

The vampires began fleeing after that, screaming in fear and terror.

Jungkook took out the swords he used in the fight, sheathing them neatly once again, before turning to look around.

Death’s  scent was everywhere. Blood was smeared everywhere, along with some pieces of flesh scattered throughout the area.

The bodies of his guards lay sprawled all over the ground. Their faces twisted and bloody, covered in dirt.

Jungkook closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

Now since the danger was gone, the only thought on his mind was you.

When he opened his eyes, he could already see you.

You were walking out of the forest, your face pale and frightened.

He didn’t need to look at you to know that the blood from these deaths must have affected you greatly. As if sensing him, your eyes met his, a look of complete devastation and sorrow filling their depths.

“Jungkook,” you whispered in fear, looking around the field as though searching for enemy still lurking by but there was no one left alive except for the king himself.

His jaw clenched when he spotted you, knowing you have disobeyed his order for you to stay at the castle. His guards haven’t stopped you from leaving and now you’re here, in the middle of the battlefield which is no place for someone like you.

Looking like an angel in a white dress, Jungkook looked ready to kill again when you slowly approached  him.

The wind was playing with his raven hair, dancing through his bangs and causing small droplets of sweat to roll down his body.

He looked like a predator waiting for its prey to come close and bite it.

Your gaze flickered between the corpses laid on the ground, their eyes frozen in fear and pain.

Y/n POV

Seeing your angel in the middle of that made you realize how strong he really is.

The blood was on his armor and even his face scarf. His eyes were the only thing holding you steady as you dared to walk forward.

His chest was rising up and down.

“What are you doing here, princess?”  he asked harshly, making your body shiver.

You looked down at the ground, ashamed of yourself.

Why were you so careless? You shouldn’t be here! It’s dangerous. Too dangerous to be out here alone!

How long have you been standing here? Did you hear the screams of vampires earlier? Did you hear them running away?

Did you hear them dying? Did you understand what was happening?

Your hands trembled as you looked at the bodies laying on the floor; lifeless.

“Answer me.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Princess. Why are you here? Answer me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Your heart thumping painfully inside your chest.

After a moment, you answered in a weak voice, “I just wanted to go for a little walk. I lost track of time and ended up here.”

His grip on your chin tightened and his lips curved in anger.

“You’re such a liar, love.”

Before you know, he kneels in front of you. Putting his sword on the ground, he takes your hands in his.

“You shouldn’t be here. What you did was dangerous. How can I protect you when you don’t listen to me? You would have been captured on the way here, possibly killed by those bloodsucking monsters!”

“I’m sorry Jungkook. But I just wanted to make sure no one hurt you. I know you can defend yourself just fine but…”

“It doesn’t stop you from worrying. And I appreciate it very much, but you don’t have to do this. I am stronger than these creatures.”

“But you don’t always have to be. You’ll get attacked by them sooner or later, you know. You won't be able to take them down with a sword on your own. Sooner or later, they'll find you.”

“No they won’t. This forest is protected by powerful magic. My kingdom is safe as long I’m here.” He explained, trying to reassure you.

“But not enough to attack this place?” You inquired quietly.

“Someone tipped me off. That’s why they got inside. No one without my magic permission can go through the barrier of this land. Its separates the human world.”

“So they can still be out there and continue to attack,”  you said bitterly.

“That’s why I must kill them all.” Jungkook declared, determination in his voice.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to escape and fall down your cheeks at any moment.

You quickly wiped away any evidence of your weakness before looking into his eyes with a determined look of your own.

Before you can chicken out, you step closer to him when he is back to standing position. His eyes darken when he notices the movement, his nostrils flaring when your scent washes over with the death smell all over the field.

It was like a flower has bloomed in the middle of the grave, filling his whole being with the sweet fragrance of your happiness and life.

You stood on your tiptoes while he stood on his, looking at him intently in the eyes.

His gaze never wavers. Neither does yours.

Neither of you breaks eye contact until finally you pull him towards you, hooking one finger underneath his mask, playing with the seam of the fabric slowly.

“What are you doing, darling?” His voice is husky, full of desire for you even it was wrong in that moment.

How can you touch him like this after he has slaughtered every vampire? He had blood on his hands and corpses still laid all around you so how come you’re not afraid to touch him?

“Making sure you’re not hurt,” you whisper, lifting his mask to reveal a strong jawline who can cut steel and lips that look tempting yet deadly.

He stares back at you, the intensity in his eyes making you want to drown in his eyes forever. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him tightly, his hand caressing your lower back, the heat of his palm seeping through the thin cloth of your dress.

“You’re making this harder for me, princess. You can’t stay here longer. It’s dangerous,”  he says softly, leaning closer to you, his hot breath fanning your cold skin as he whispers.

"I don’t care.” You say, closing the gap between your lips and pressing them softly onto his.

At first, he tried to push you away.

But the minute you parted your lips to deepen the kiss, he gave up.

As your tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting each other, you wrapped your arms around his neck while he gripped both sides of your waist.

He lifted you easily in his arm and you placed your legs around his hips, holding on tightly when you felt yourself getting dizzy and lightheaded.

Lifting up into the sky, you almost scream when you realize that he has intended to fly you back to the castle. His wings even through the mist shine with the specks of light that peeked from the clouds.

Not daring to look down because of your fear of heights, some minutes later you brace yourself for landing when he flaps his wings to stop his  speed abruptly, causing you to cling onto him like a koala.

When he puts you down gently on your feet, you let out a soft sigh of relief.

Jungkook pulled you in his arms, cradling you close and soothing you as best he could.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t want to startle you like that. I just can’t imagine you walking through that mess.  It must have been terrifying.” He whispered tenderly, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, melting at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice calling you baby in that loving way of his, feeling warmth blossom inside your chest.

Feeling safe. Protected.

“You need to stay indoors while I go back to finish the job. Someone still can be lurking in the shadows and watching us so we have to take precautions,”  he says sternly, grabbing the hilt of his sword and taking a few steps backward as he looked behind him.

“Come back to me safe, please.” You pleaded.

He sighed as he turned around, walking towards you again.

He reached out to caress your cheek once more before giving you a soft smile.

“I promise you.”

You nodded as he took off with a flap of his wings. The air surrounding him seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, the wind caressing his skin like a lover as his figure disappears among the thick mist in the distance.

p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners

DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY

If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)

🅒 All rights reserved

[sp4ceboo]

CHAPTER 6 ~ CALM BEFORE THE STORM

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: apologies for the sparse updates i swear i'm still alive, icl i have beef with this chapter in terms of characterisations but the next chapter is my lil baby so yall can look forward to that

chapter warnings: large amounts of crying, swearing, panic attacks, mentions of mind control, for some reason i really like The Hello Kitty Blanket, not much else but i probably forgot at least 1 thing

chapter word count: 3.6k

When you wake, you are lucid. Too lucid, it seems, because you recall your dreams with such clarity that you throw up, emptying the meagre contents of your churning stomach into a bucket someone had handily placed by your side. You do not want to believe what you’ve seen, so you chalk it down to the fever.

It’s early in the morning, and Jisung lies propped up against the wall beside the makeshift bed the boys must have made you, heavily asleep, a half full bottle of water held loosely in his hands. You manage to heave yourself upright, and it’s only then that you notice the rope tied loosely around your wrists and ankles, tied to the foot of the centrifuge and tethering you down.

Your stomach twists. Felix. You hurt Felix.

And yet, Jisung snores peacefully beside you. There is a calm in his slumbering face, a tranquility. He feels safe to sleep beside you, and no one has deigned to disturb him from his position - then, they don’t blame you, nor do they fear you.

Hesitantly, almost expecting your body to disobey your orders, you reach out and pluck the bottle from his grasp, taking careful sips until it’s finished. With a glance behind you, you notice Jeongin has sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that Chan is making his way towards you. He looks a little paler than before, and the semicircles beneath his eyes are darker.

You cannot imagine for the life of you why they have stayed and looked after you.

Unbidden, a smile finds its way onto your face as he approaches, and it widens when he returns it, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. Relief is clear on him, in the slight sag of his shoulders and release of tension in his brow, as if a heavy load has been lifted from him.

“Hey,” he whispers, crouching beside you, eyes bright and hope filled as he unties you. “I knew you would make it.”

“Chan,” you say, and suddenly your voice and smile are wobbly.

You reach out your hand, simply intending to grab ahold of his hoodie and remind yourself that you’re fine now, that they didn’t leave you even though they should have, but he goes one step further and engulfs you in his arms. Breath shaky, you close your eyes, holding onto him as tightly as you can.

Chan is warm and solid, and he smells ridiculously like clean laundry despite the fact that none of you have gone near a washing machine in weeks. It feels as if he is keeping you whole, as if you might crumble apart if he lets go. You squeeze your eyes shut and breathe him in.

You’re able to find your voice once your face is hidden in the safety of his shoulder. “Did I hurt anyone?”

“No,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s lying or not. “You were pretty weak when that stage set in.”

You nod, trying to find words. “How - how long was I out?”

“Just under a week.”

Your jaw drops. “A week?”

“Yeah,” he says. “The next ship hasn’t landed yet. We met three guys looking for the rest of their group. The leader - his name was Hongjoong - has dubbed it the Reprieve. I just think it’s the calm before the storm.”

You blink. “You talked to someone? Were any of them sick?”

Getting to his feet, Chan shakes his head. “I don’t think anyone has been since the first horseman’s ship took off.”

Grabbing his hand, you stop him. “Thank you, Chan. You - you didn’t have to put yourself or the boys in danger for me, but you did, anyway.”

“I did what I’d do if it happened to any of us,” he says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world to him.

You’re about to reply, but you’re cut off by a drawn out gurgle from your stomach. Chan chuckles, his dimples appearing again. He is so bright, so clear, that it is hard to believe the shadows could even survive while he was there.

“I’ll get you some food in a second,” he grins. “Minho, Changbin, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin and I are going out on a supply run. We don’t know how long the Reprieve will last so we’re going to try and stock up as much as possible in case we need to hole up when the second horseman comes.”

Briefly, you consider volunteering yourself too, but although you feel healed, you’ve been out for the last week and you need to rest. No doubt Chan would refuse to let you come along, anyway - he hands you a can of pasta shapes drowning in synthetic tasting tomato sauce, and you scarf it down while the lab begins to fill with life as the others wake up.

Felix bounds over and hugs you, followed closely by Hyunjin. You scan the former’s face for any signs of fear or hurt, but he beams at you, and your soul feels a warmth it hasn’t in a long time. There’s a beauty in his smile that is so hard to come by, now.

All of the boys greet you once they’ve woken up, even Minho, who kind of just stares at you like he can’t believe you’re alive. You don’t blame him. Hope is rising in your chest, the same way it shines in Jisung’s eyes when he jerks awake to see you conscious and radiates from Jeongin’s smile, because despite it all, you survived Pestilence, and if you survived the first horseman, maybe there’s a chance you’ll all be able to live through the next ones.

The hope rises so high that you dismiss your fever dreams. It lingers, wonderfully so, and rests on you, Hyunjin and Jisung after the others go out on the supply run, filling the three of you with bubbling laughter as the hours pass.

And then, abruptly, it falls short.

The sun is setting, painting the already red sky redder, and the others do not return. They do not come bustling through the door, laden with plastic bags full of supplies. Their voices do not echo down the street as they make their way back to the lab.

There are plenty of reasons they could have been delayed. They could be lost, or maybe they met that guy called Hongjoong again, yet you can’t help but feel the sinking feeling of despair re-enter your chest, when before you’d been so light and happy and hopeful. Hyunjin stares down at his lap and picks nervously at his cuticles. You glare worriedly out the window, tapping your foot on the floor.

Jisung begins to hyperventilate.

Immediately, you scoot over until you sit on the floor beside him. He’s rocking back and forth, his hands clenched into fists so hard that you know his nails must be digging painfully into his skin. His worry is contagious, settling in your bones and creeping into the back of your mind, armed with doubt.

Hyunjin is frozen where he is sat, and for a terrible, mind numbing moment, you feel painfully out of your depth - you know you could fight to protect him, but this is not something you know how to deal with. Minho or Chan would know what to do, not you.

Still, you prise his hands open so you can hold them. Positioning yourself so he can feel the press of your front against his back, you grip him tight enough for him to stop rocking. You tell yourself that the others will come back, repeating those words like a mantra, and even though you cannot fully deceive yourself, it steadies you nonetheless.

“Breathe with me,” you command, in a voice that leaves no room for arguing - a voice that sounds just like Chan’s.

Jisung’s breathing stutters, his chest heaving with the effort of it, but he fights to obey you, and you hold him close to you, grounding him even when his grasp on your fingers begins to sting with how hard he squeezes them. His trembling begins to ease up, and you loosen your arms on him, but he grips onto your wrist, keeping you wrapped around him. Carefully, you stroke his hair, keeping your breathing slow and deliberate.

“I’m here,” you soothe. “Jinnie’s here as well, okay?”

He twists in your arms so he can face you. Tears have tracked down his cheeks, and you wipe them away with your thumbs, a tight ache developing in your chest when his face crumples and he hides himself in your embrace again. Hyunjin shuffles over, resting his head on your shoulder and stroking a hand down Jisung’s back. You realise he’s shaking too.

“What if the next wave starts and they’re out there?” Jisung asks quietly.

“We’d have seen the ship coming down,” you tell them firmly, pushing back flashes of your dreams that crowd your head. “It’s not over yet.”

Hyunjin nods against your shoulder, a little sniffle escaping him. You wrap an arm around his shoulder and bring him a little closer, resting your chin on his head. The three of you stay like that for a while, tangled together as you listen to the sound of your heartbeats; there is a tension filling the lab not unlike the tightness in the air before rainfall, and you attempt to tamp down your worries, keeping them to yourself when the sky becomes the darker than the deepest of red wines and stars begin to wink to life.

This is the calm before the storm. You’re just afraid that your own, more personal storm might have arrived before the big one.

“I hate them,” Jisung announces after a while, and his arms tighten around you.

“The aliens?” You ask.

He nods. “I don’t care if they hear. I hope they hear - I hope they know I hate them for what they’ve taken from us.”

He has raised his head from where it was resting on your shoulder, and there is a fire in his eyes that you have not seen before, paired with pain woven through with a bitter sort of determination - the type derived from spite, the dogged tenacity to survive. A lump grows in your throat. You pull him close again, burying your face in his hair so he and Hyunjin don’t see the tears welling at your lash line.

You hate the aliens too. You hate them for their fucking games and stupid horsemen, you hate the way they’ve invaded your sky, you hate that they have broken millions of hearts and torn families apart. And now, if the others don’t come back, another family will have been lost.

The waiting makes you feel helpless. Restless, you pace circles in your mind, wondering whether you should go out and search for them, but that would leave Jisung and Hyunjin alone, and the next horseman could arrive at any time. You want something to do, something to put your mind off the worry, but there is nothing. All you can do is pull the two of them closer to you and soothe them with hollow words.

You’re about to suggest trying to eat something when the sound of footsteps approaches. You’re all on your feet in seconds, hurtling to the door, and before you can think to caution him, Hyunjin has shoved it open and looks out with wild hope bright in his eyes.

It’s dark outside. You can see silhouettes making their way towards you, their heads bowed tiredly, and though you can’t see their faces, you know for sure now - it’s not over yet. It won’t ever be over, as long as you’re all together and breathing.

Jisung sprints out into the street and hurls himself right into Minho’s arms.

You slump against the doorframe, relief swamping any anger you felt at them for coming back so late. Minho has dropped his bags and is gripping Jisung tight, his nose buried in the younger man’s hair, eyes squeezed closed - the sight is poignant enough to make your vision blur with unshed tears, vanquishing the tension that had been pervading your body for the last few hours. You step into Felix’s arms, your knees feeling as if they may give out any second.

“What happened?” You breathe out, sheltering in his embrace.

“There were dogs,” he replies, patting your back soothingly. “We were stuck balancing on top of a food shelving unit until they got bored and left. I’m sorry, we came back as fast as we could.”

You almost find it in you to laugh. All that worry, while the boys were camped out on the top shelf, waiting for animals that used to be beloved pets to lose interest in them. It feels as if you should take it as a warning, a reminder that you should take nothing for granted, but it fills you with a vicious triumph instead - they came back, and that’s what matters.

You squeeze him hard enough that he squeaks. “Don’t be sorry. Just, I was - we were scared. Shitless. Don’t ever do that again, you fucker.”

He laughs, and suddenly, with that bright sound ringing sweetly through the air, everything is alright again.

Everything continues to be alright until, a few hours later, you all decide to sleep, and though you are not alone as you once were, the dreams still come.

Snatches of laughter echo in your ears. Grasping, shadowy fingers tear at your hair and clothes. A blonde woman and a bronze skinned man, reduced to nothing but puppets, command swathes and swathes of survivors.

Reaping more than should ever be taken, great slaughter and boundless hunger ravages the land. There is only endless falling, like you are trapped in the vast pull of a black hole.

Eventually, you wrest yourself from the visions' claws.

Panting, sweat breaking out all over your skin in sharp prickles, you sit up, kicking the blanket off you. You pause for a moment, listening. Tonight is a rare night where Chan is actually asleep - his breathing is deeper and far slower than it is when he lies with his eyes closed, pretending. He is still next to you, frighteningly so, and you wish you could not so easily imagine him lifeless beside you.

Moonlight bleeds from the crack in the blinds, alighting on Hyunjin’s shoulders and spilling from them like a crimson cloak. His head is bent towards someone else, a slighter figure, with light hair, blonde hair -

She’s here.

And then you realise that the blonde is slightly grown out, that it’s far too glossy and a little too short to be hers. You deflate in relief. It’s just Felix. When he turns his face towards you, you see his sweet eyes and his freckles, and wonder how you could have ever seen his hair and mistaken him for her, even in the near darkness and from across the room.

Felix smiles and beckons you over, and you get up, keeping your footsteps quiet. The two of them have tucked the Hello Kitty blanket around them - a glance over your shoulder reveals that Changbin is now sharing Seungmin’s blanket, tucking himself tight against the younger man’s back, even in sleep. Hyunjin opens the blanket on his side, and you gratefully wedge yourself in.

The lab air is cold and a little biting, as if there aren’t solid walls separating you from outside, but you feel warmed by their actions, by the openness blooming so plainly on both their faces that it makes your heart ache.

“Nightmares?” Felix asks.

Mutely, you nod.

“Do you want to talk about yours?” Hyunjin asks. “Sometimes it helps.”

You blanch. Telling them of your fever dreams feels like speaking truth into them, like giving them the power to become real. There’s a chance that they’re just the substance of your terrified mind, but they have a strange quality to them, like the humming, disastrous tone of a prophecy. Not telling them could be withholding information that might be valuable.

“I had these visions when I was ill,” you blurt, then quieten your voice. “I don’t know if they were visions or dreams. Either way, they showed the next three horsemen.”

Hyunjin sucks in a sharp breath, stiffening beside you. Although he doesn’t say anything, Felix reaches out and squeezes your hand, and you cling to him like he’s your anchor, willing yourself to continue. It is harder than expected to describe what you saw - the images flash before your eyes, the scents and the sounds right in your head, and yet your tongue is stiff in your mouth with fear and dread.

“The one coming now is War. He…” You struggle with your words, wondering how many details are needed. “I think he possessed these two people. They’re supposed to be generals of some sort, maybe. Once he looked at them, they were his.”

Hyunjin curses under his breath. A rustle sounds nearby, like the sound of someone rolling over, and you glance up, aware that your voice had risen and taken on a panicked edge near the end of your sentence. Jeongin is stirring, but soon he relaxes, and you twist the blanket in your fingers, worrying at a loose thread.

“Keep going,” Felix urges.

“The third one is Famine. She was terrible, but beautiful too,” you murmur, unable to meet their eyes. “This one was hazier. I just remember the hunger, so strong that I would have done anything to destroy it. It felt like my body was changing, too, but I think that part was symbolic of something. Like the weighing scales she had.”

“Symbolic, like of the monsters humanity is becoming?” Hyunjin says, the horror clear in his voice.

Swallowing harshly, you press on. “The last was Death. There are blurry parts, parts I can't focus on, like what he said to me, but I remember other bits. Falling. What he looked like. I was - ” Your voice cracks. “ - terrified. That’s the clearest bit. The fear. I was helpless.”

Felix squeezes your hand. “We’ll - we’ll make it through. We’ll survive them.”

You can’t fathom how strong he must be to say that.

“Please don’t tell the others,” you whisper. “In case it’s not true, and it was all just some crazy fever dream. I - I don’t want to scare them. Chan will worry.”

“I agree,” Felix replies. “We don’t know if it’s real.” He squeezes your hand again. “Thank you for telling us.”

“Thank you for listening,” you mumble.

What you really mean is: thank you for staying, thank you for looking after me while I was under Pestilence’s hold, while I went crazy and could have killed or hurt you all. They are insane, for risking their own lives for you, merciful where the end of the world should have hardened their hearts.

Hyunjin is silent. You are too afraid to glance over and look him in the eyes, for fear that you will be condemned by what you will see in them. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, just huddles under the blanket with the rest of you, and you wonder if he hates you for being the bearer of news that could be the death of every person in this room.

You wouldn’t be surprised if that is the case, yet when he finally turns to you, he hugs you tight - tight enough to squeeze all the air out of your lungs, yet it doesn’t suffocate you. It feels like he’s holding you together, just like it did with Chan.

You allow a few of your tears to soak into his shirt before you pull yourself together.

When you raise your head, you realise Hyunjin is crying too, and yet the tears streaking down his cheeks look like war paint. He looks strong, like a warrior prince, and fearsome. Though he weeps, it is the farthest thing from a weakness.

And then he yawns, rubs at his face, and he is just sleepy, Hello-Kitty-blanket-around-his-shoulders Hyunjin again. Still, you see the remnants of that magnificence, and you know that although it has receded, it is as much a part of him as the tired but brave smile he sends you when he catches you looking.

“Shall we go back to sleep?” Felix asks.

You nod, and Hyunjin stands, wiping his eyes and holding the blanket around his neck like a cape. A smile tugs at your lips, and he grins down at you, doing a little twirl - the soft fabric flares out at the bottom, and you duck to avoid getting smacked in the face by it, opening your mouth to tell him that he looks like some sort of Sanrio monarch.

A keen whine splits the air like a guillotine.

The colour drains from Felix’s face, and his eyes dart immediately to the window. Hyunjin freezes. Suddenly, Jeongin is up, and he rolls right out from under the blankets and onto his feet, crossing the room to the window so he can yank the blind open. Baffled, you follow his gaze, and your heart sinks.

It’s a ship. The next horseman is coming.

You haven’t heard the sound of one of their ships before - you’d been delirious - but there’s no doubt left in your mind as one of the dark specks in the sky detaches from the others and arcs towards the ground like a falling star.

The Reprieve is over.

taglist: @estella-novella @0bticeo @lixies-favorite-cookie @smashleywow @realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 @rxlvvrz @iris-iiridescent @brbwritingfanfic @missseoulite @juliettejwnewinesa (let me know if you want to be added)

[haru-natsuka]

Second Male Leads Are all Yanderes but I Won't Rest Until I Win My Love Back (Female Reader x OCs)

CHAPTER 5

Story will start after the synopsis

Every second male lead who appeared in this world had a hidden yandere side that can emerge at any moment and turn them into a twisted and obsessive villain.

As someone with a severe case of the "second male lead syndrome", you are determined to pursue your love for the second male lead, leaving the original male lead to become the second.

While you were busy chasing after the second male lead, the original male lead kept on bothering you and trying to get you to choose him instead.

"Don't you dare to come any closer!" You snap at the original male lead, your tone sharp and firm.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me? You?" The yandere stares at you, a menacing look in their eyes, as their body slowly moves closer.

"Too close! Step back!"

"Your words mean nothing to me. You can't control me. I will come as close as I please, you can't stop me."

As if a yandere was not enough, when you chose to ignore the original male lead, another second male lead suddenly entered your life, further complicating the situation.

The yandere and the upcoming second male lead both seem determined to have you for themselves, and they were both very possessive and pushy in their approaches to you.

You just wanted to be happy with your true love. Yandere or not, you would stick with your crush!

CHAPTER 1 << CHAPTER 2 << CHAPTER 3 << CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5: DISTURBING ENEMY

You had prepared yourself to step on his foot if he dared to get any closer, but before you could even react to his advancement, he suddenly thrust a bunch of flowers directly towards your face. The petal of the flowers were forced to kiss your face.

You stared at the flowers that had been shoved under your nose in shock. The hand that was within his hold, was forced to received the flowers as he flashed you with a sickeningly smile. That was how you interpreted it.

"I love you, my lady" Your ears pricked up upon hearing the man proclaim his feelings for you. It made your stomach churn in disgust.

'What this bastard is saying. My ears only reserve for Adrian confession!!!'

Flowers were the language for your love to Adrian that you confessed everyday and the way this scoundrel using it nonchalantly, irritated you. You stared at it in distaste as you felt the flowers were already tainted when he got a hold on it. You clenched the flower stem tightly and without any remorse, you swing it directly to his face several times.

'An eye for an eye! A face for a face!'

"DONT-" Swing!

"YOU-" Swing!

"DARE-" Swing!"

"TO CONFESS-" Swing!

"TO ME" Smack!

He managed to avoid all of your advance with his fast reflects. It was frustrating, really irritating! The broken flowers were left dropped on the cold ground as you wanted to punch him with your own tiny fist. You were ready in a position to give him the greatest blow, to treat the loose screw in his head but he was too dumb to read you. Before your fist could land on his face, he had enveloped you within his arm this time.

"My lovely lady, don't be mad. I promise I would only love you"

'This is sexual harassment! Only Adrian has the right to touch my body!'

With all your strength, you pushed him a bit and punched his face but the damaged was minimal. Even worst, that smile, his smile that you hated the most still being directed to you. You longed to scream out loud in frustration but you need to control your voice to avoid any further attention. The ladies nearby whispered amongst themselves but you just could not care as your sole enemy were in front of you.

"Just go away from me, Cyrus!"

"No, I refuse to leave you alone. I'm here to claim you" Cyrus shook his head firmly, his eyes locking onto yours with stubborn determination.

'AHHHH! This bastard! Imbecile! Moron! Scumbag!'

What does he want from you?! You could not even screamed for help as Adrian could not meet him. Not his closest friend who used to hurt him emotionally and mentally. It took months for your man to recover from his pain. You could not allow his pain to resurface. There was only a way to escape from this despair.

Inhaling a deep breath, lifting the hem of your dress, you broke into a run, sprinting away as quickly as you could. As expected, he followed closely behind. Your mind was focused on a single goal. You needed to get this unwanted person away from Adrian at all cost.

'Sorry Adrian, I'm truly sorry for leaving you like this'

You heart ached upon imagining Adrian's worried face, the image of his anxious face vividly painted in your mind. You could picture him desperately searching for you, frantically looking for any sign of your whereabouts.

Adrian was an angel who always taking care of you. It was alright. You would made Cyrus lost you as soon as possible and returned to your man. You know this town better than him. It would only take 3 minutes for you to lost him.

"You should train your stamina, Y/N" He had somehow managed to catch up on you and grabbed your arm again. In your haste and desperation, you must forgotten that he is the best knight graduate in your academy.

"Don't touch me as you please, Cyrus. Don't come near me. Don't even said a word to me"

Cyrus showed no hesitation in disregarding your firm words, his smile unwavering as he continued to maintain his grip on your arm. He made no attempt to withdraw or distance himself from you, his expression remaining infuriatingly unchanged.

"Oh, come on now, don't be like that," he said, his voice dripping with an annoying cheerfulness.

"There's no need to get so worked up. Let me send you home. I trouble you a lot today"

"No, absolutely not! Don't you dare!" Your heart pounded in your chest as Cyrus suggested escorting you back home, his tone maddeningly nonchalant. You immediately wrenched your arm free from his grip and ran away again.

After a lot of running and hiding at some corner, the sun already about to set did you finally managed to make Cyrus lost you. As you tiredly dragging your legs to your house, a familiar shout of your name pierced through the air, capturing your attention. You lifted your gaze to the source of the sound.

There, in front of your house was a panic Adrian who rushed to you and envelope you in a tight embrace, pulling you close against his chest. His white shirt was damp with sweat, a testament to how panicked he had been while searching for you but you paid no mind as you were focused more on the kisses Adrian placed on your crown.

'My skinship progress, definitely getting better'

Adrian held onto you tightly, his arms encircling you protectively as he buried his face into your hair. His words came out in a rush of breathless relief, tinged with a hint of scolding.

"Y/N... Where were you all this while? I was so worried. I thought something bad happened to you," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.

You felt a pang of guilt in your chest as you heard the worry in Adrian's voice and felt the tightness of his embrace. You pulled back slightly so you could look up at his face, seeing the mixture of concern and relief etched across his features.

"I'm sorry, Adrian. I'm really sorry. I'm back now"

>> CHAPTER 6

Tag list:

@d3sperate-enuf @sirenetheblogger @orinnie @aoiyx @chin-chii

@elsoleil @iamapotatoe @yzuposts

[wistfulforstars]

For What It's Worth - Part 6

Rex x Reader

Summary: You start feeling the effects of having your handsome trooper home full-time, and you and Rex entertain an unexpected visitor, but not for long.

Warnings: Whoops, I spilled a little plot in the cheesy romance fondue, this is getting longer than I intended and I'm not sorry, reader is afab, a roving asshole makes an appearance, character is insensitive to reader's experience, politics, trying to use injured people for your marketing optics will get you a Rex-sponsored kick in the ass, allusions to sex, mature sexual content in later chapters, minors: get out

Tag List: @bambiswriting @jessyhazy

If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please comment below or message/ask directly.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

You had been overjoyed when Rex had come back from his briefing much earlier than you expected, a knowing grin barely hidden on his lips, and asked if he could impose on you a little longer. You’d hobbled over - your damn ankle had still been giving you trouble - and thrown your arms around him. He chastised you for aggravating your ribs, but he couldn’t hide the giddy tone in his voice.

Having him in your house for the past week had been heaven, but your heart had become the latest on an impressive list of broken body parts when he walked out the door to do his duty. Now, with his promise to stay, that part of you had been miraculously healed. 

“You’re only allowed to stick around if you sleep in the bed with me,” you said firmly. “That couch must have been murder on your back this week.”

Rex chuckled, “You’ve clearly never slept on a GAR cot, cyare. My back has survived much worse than your couch can dish out.”

But still you insisted, “I’m serious Rex. I’m healing nicely-”

“You’re still wincing every time you stand up, and stumbling when-”

“Healing nicely,” you repeated. “And unless you want to head back to that cot, I suggest you park your armor in my room, and come keep me company while I make lunch.”

Your tone didn’t really allow for argument, but Rex still sighed at your stubbornness and took his sweet time answering, “Fine, cyarika. But if it becomes an issue even one time, if I so much as steal the covers and give you a chill, I’m moving back to the couch.”

You snorted, “Good luck getting the blankets away from me, captain. You’ve never faced a battle like this before.”

You turned to head to the kitchen, to start on the simple stew Rex had bought ingredients for - a stew that you suspected was becoming one of his favorite dishes. But gloved hands and plastoid covered arms seized you gently from behind, and your bare feet left the floor. You squealed as Rex supported your knees and back before heading away from the kitchen.

“You won the fight to get me in bed, don’t push it, cyare,” his knowing eyes smiled down at you. “Give me ten minutes for a shower, then I’m cooking.”

“Oh c’mon!” you griped as he deposited you on the couch. He placed you on the cushions as delicately as a leaf might land on a lake. “Rex, I’m doing so much better-hey!”

Staunchly ignoring you, Rex began wrapping you in your favorite fluffy blanket, flung to the floor in your rush to greet him. He disregarded your squawks of protest as he leaned you forward and put another pillow behind your head, tucked your feet, and turned on the netscreen, flipping to one of your favorite channels. He handed you the controller and smoothed down your hair. 

One of your least favorite things about your job as a medic - it made you a terrible patient. You knew it, your doctors knew it, and your family and friends definitely knew it. But knowing it didn’t automatically banish the icky feeling you got when someone treated you like an invalid. Your hackles rose, and you glared up at your boyfriend.

“Listen here, captain-mph!” you were silenced by the truly glorious feeling of Rex’s lips pressing firmly to yours. Warmth gathered in your belly, and sparks shot off behind your closed eyes. It was the first time since the attack that he’d allowed himself to kiss you with any firmness at all, preferring to kiss your hands and wrists, perhaps your unscathed cheek, for the entire week. 

You were a little dazed as he pulled away, a small bit of triumph in his eyes. It had been too long, dammit. You were brought back down from the clouds, however, by his low, firm voice.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that the dishes from last night have been done,” he fixed you with a disapproving eye, one that had caught and punished many more serious shenanigans than secret chores. You sank back into the cushions a little. “Or the fact that the oven’s been scrubbed to hell, or that the floor’s been swept. You didn’t even try to hide the laundry you folded.”

He gestured towards the basket at the end of the couch, and you crossed your arms, stuck out your lip. You weren’t proud of pouting, but you were kind of running out of options.

“You are the only man in the galaxy who would possibly notice that the oven had been scrubbed.”

“You were supposed to relax,” his absurdly calm demeanor was not helping.

“I’m bored, Rex,” you whined. “And I feel bad, watching you run around my apartment, doing all my chores. I was trying to be helpful.”

He sighed, and leaned back over you with a hand perched on the couch behind your head. He tilted your chin up and looked resolutely into your eyes. You could feel the warmth of him through his glove.

His warm words poured over you like honey, his tone not exactly forceful, but definitely unyielding, “I do your chores because I love you, cyare. Because you are ner karta, my heart, walking around in the world, and right now, my heart is recovering from a terrible experience. So I’m doing what I can to help my heart heal, to protect it and make sure it’s strong and healthy again.”

He kissed your forehead, a whisper of touch against your stitched up wound, “I’ve got two more days of leave, and then I’ll be taking my post with the CG. You’ll be alone again for most of the day when I do. Give me these two days, please.”

Well. How the hell were you supposed to argue with that? You pulled your petulant lip back in, and nodded.

“Thank you,” he breathed, relieved. He pressed one more kiss to your yearning mouth before going to take his shower.

You slumped back into your pile of pillows, glaring at the brace on your arm. You’d ended your round of the tough painkillers the day before, and today, you were more alert than you had been since the assault. Sweet and darling as your boyfriend might be, you were now realizing the trouble you were in with him being around full time, fussing over you.  

You could also admit, at least to yourself, that maybe you were being contrary with him because you were getting a little…pent up.

And judging from his lovely (not to mention attractive) speech about protecting his heart, you didn’t think Rex was going to be willing to help you with this problem anytime soon.

**********

Lunch had gone off without a hitch, and Rex was happily dozing with you on the couch, so full he might have fallen asleep if not for the knock at the door. 

You had fallen asleep, and you shot up with a surprised mumble, “Mmm… Rex, s’Tia…”

He smiled. You were adorable. Then he turned to the door and called, “Come in, Alentia!”

She poked her pretty face through the door first, and smirked when she saw you on the couch, your loyal soldier sitting protectively at your side, “I brought a guest, is that okay?”

Rex turned to you, and watched as you glanced down at your comfortable, well worn attire and fussed with your messy bun. He heard you whisper to yourself, “Fuck it, it’s my house,” before calling, “Sure, that’s fine! Just hope they’re not expecting much!”

“Oh, I’d never!” came a friendly voice from behind the door. You smiled and rolled your eyes good naturedly, and Alentia opened the door fully, bringing with her a male Twi’lek carrying a bag of groceries. The family resemblance was uncanny. 

Rex prepared himself for the shock, maybe even the fear at seeing a clone in a domestic dwelling, but the Twi didn’t look the least bit surprised. In fact, he barely glanced toward Rex. Alentia took their bag of goodies to the kitchen, and her companion made his way over to the couch, where he crouched down next to you in a quick, agile movement. He looked you up and down, running his hands across your brow. You batted his hands away, annoyed and flustered, but he continued flitting around your face, down your neck, tilting your chin, assessing the damage so long Rex almost got up and pulled him away.

Instead, you smacked one of his hands, "Okay that's enough! Let me breathe!"

The frustration in your voice didn't seem to bother him, “Force, honey. Tia said you were looking better. How banged up were you before?”

You paused, squinting at him, before relaxing your shoulders and pushing his face back with your hand. He nearly toppled over, “Still prettier than you.”

He laughed and took a seat in a neighboring chair, “So, you wanna tell me what happened? Tia’s been remiss with details.”

“I’ll give you an abbreviated version,” you conceded warily. “After we stop being rude and make introductions.”

Your voice was firm, and Rex watched as you pointedly stared the Twi down. You gestured back to him with your hand, “This is Rex, my boyfriend. Rex, this is Shor Ryesim, Tia’s much older brother.”

Shor placed a hand over his heart, acting wounded, “Ouch, kiddo. 8 years is not that much older.” Then he leaned forward and held out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Rex.”

“Likewise,” Rex nodded curtly and shook the offered appendage. He didn’t know why, but there was something about Shor that he didn’t quite trust. He had an urge to retrieve his armor from the other room. 

“Oh!” Shor lit up and began digging in his pockets. “Got something for you, sweetheart. Just off the presses this morning.” 

He held out his hand, and cradled in it, was a pristine white button with a clone helmet on it. HUMAN RIGHTS ARE NOT OPTIONAL flashed in red. You flinched, looking a bit ill.

In a flash, Rex had reached over and snatched the pin, before grabbing your hand, “You alright cyare?”

Shor put his hands up and waved them back and forth, “Whoa, man, what's your deal? I was just trying to help replenish the collection! You know what those pins meant to her.”

“They’re why she was attacked in the first place!” Rex felt his voice rise. Anger boiled in his stomach. How could this prick be so insensitive?

Alentia came hurrying back into the living room. Her eyes zeroed in on the pin in Rex’s hand. She threw her arms up in the air, “Stars, Shor! I told you to leave it at home!”

“I thought it’d cheer her up!”

“It’s not an appropriate gift after what she went through!”

“But-”

“It’s fine,” your quiet voice cut through the noise of the bickering siblings. Rex’s heart stuttered when he saw your blank, shuttered eyes. You smiled, and it didn’t reach past the corners of your lips. “It’s not a big deal, seriously. Thank you for thinking of me. Rex, would you go put it on my desk please?”

He hesitated, but got up off the couch at the sight of your trembling jaw. He went as swiftly as he could to your bedroom, tossing the offending piece of political jargon onto the desk and heading back. 

In the living room, you were recounting what had happened to you with that same empty expression. Shor was looking properly sheepish, and Alentia had a hand around your shoulder, having taken Rex’s place on the couch. He chose to stand and watch from the far side of the room, close enough to reach you if you needed him. 

“...And then, some troopers must have heard the commotion, because they stunned the idiots and took them away,” you finished your watered-down version of the attack.

Shor stood up, clearly outraged, “This is appalling! Our government refuses to acknowledge those fighting for us as full citizens, and now full citizens are getting attacked in the streets for their commitment to justice!” He started pacing around the room. “You’re not the only one, kiddo. We keep hearing reports of citizens being assaulted for being suspected of clone sympathy. There’s too many of them for it to be a coincidence.”

“Shor is the head of a pro-clone citizen’s movement,” you supplied Rex, though not with the enthusiasm he’d have expected. “They petition the senate and hold protests and boycotts to try and pressure those who can affect change.”

Rex turned to the pacing Twi’lek. “And you don’t think this attack was random?”

“You think they targeted her on purpose? Like, they’d been following her for a while?” Alentia was appalled.

“Possibly,” came his answer. “Her backpack would have been something they could monitor, identify her by. She was stationed at the same clinic for a week. It wouldn’t have been difficult.” Shor shook his head, “There's a rumor that there’s a lot of appeals to young people by the anti-clone crowd. They put them through initiation, have them go rough someone up on the street, before they officially become part of the group.”

“They…” you whispered, shaken. “They beat the hell out of me as part of some sick initiation?”

Rex’s blood ran cold, “Has anyone informed the CG of this rumor?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

He grit his teeth. Fox had to know about this, had to be made aware before the-

“Are either of you, by chance, attending the protest against the rally they announced for next week?” Shor asked, before brusquely reaching out and grasping your arm. You winced at the sudden contact, and Rex lunged forward a step. “Because, sweetheart, if you were to speak at the podium I’ve set up, about your experience, about what these bastards put you through…”

But you started shaking your head furiously, alarmed, sliding away and shrinking in on yourself with each passing word.

That’s it, Rex thought. The time for company was over. He moved to kneel by you, and Alentia gave up her seat without a word. She at least seemed to be thinking of your well-being. He grasped Shor’s wrist with bruising pressure and removed his grip from your arm.

“No,” Rex answered for you both, and if he’d crossed a line with that he’d apologize for it later. He didn’t bother looking back at Shor’s reaction. “She won’t be well enough to go out for anything next week, and I’ll have orders to fulfill. My leave ends soon.”

You were staring up at Rex, glassy eyes vague and dazed. He put his hand to the back of your head and gently laid you back to recline on the couch again.

“She needs rest,” he informed their company. “I’m sorry to be abrupt about it, but do you think you could both head home? Thank you for the groceries.”

Alentia nodded immediately, “Of course. I’ll come check on you both tomorrow, and we can talk about your schedule. I don’t like the idea of her being alone all day yet.”

Rex threw a grateful smile her way.

“I’m right here, you guys. You don’t have to plan babysitting shifts,” you said, but your raspy tone and the grip you had on your blanket contradicted your point. 

“I’ll be in the area, planning the protest,” Shor shrugged. “I can look after her for a while too.”

Rex was sure his face was turning red, but Alentia answered before he could, “I think we’ve got it covered.”

“Of course.”

Alentia gathered their things up to go, but her brother, who it seems could not take a fucking hint, tapped on Rex’s shoulder.

“Can I speak to you a moment?” he asked, and though Rex felt he would rather eat a seppie’s blaster bolt, he wanted this weirdly persistent person out of your apartment. At least by talking to him, Rex would be close enough to toss him out on his sorry ass.

He followed Shor to your entryway, where he turned and spoke in a hushed tone, “Look, I know she’s been through a lot, and clearly, you’re not my biggest fan-”

“Glad to see you noticed.”

“Yeah, well,” the Twi shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s a weird, macho, threatened-by-other-guys thing-”

“For me to be threatened,” Rex growled low in his voice. “You’d have to be threatening. I just don’t like seeing the woman I love made to feel uncomfortable.”

But this Twi’lek, it seemed, was impervious to the point, “Fighting for a just cause is uncomfortable! She could do so much good if we just got her up on that stage-”

“No.”

“Look, I know she’s wounded. That’s actually a positive thing for us, if she gives a speech. The optics would be-”

Rex saw red, “I don’t give a damn about the optics or the rally or anything else! I care about her!”

Shor just looked confused, “But surely, as a clone, you want to see change here. Payment for the war you never chose, but were forced to fight in. Reparations for the hundreds of men you’ve seen killed…men who bore your face-”

“Enough,” Rex snarled, and he seized Shor’s arm. “I am not your prop, anymore than she is, and I will never force her into a situation where she feels unsafe. My brothers and I were born and bred for war, to fight for a Republic that does not recognize us. We don’t need people like you to tell us that. Our lives are not a slogan you can slap on a pin. Yes, we hope for change, for a future. But there is one thing you will never understand, not in the core of your being: We will never put any of that before our brothers, our family. We will never choose a movement over the people we love.”

He wrenched Shor over to the door to your apartment, and turned the latch, “I appreciate your wanting to see us as human, I thank you for trying to win us freedoms we don’t have,” he said, before pushing him out the door. “But do not think you understand what it is to be a clone.”

Shor stared at him, gobsmacked, outraged, as people like him always were. 

Rex didn’t care, “I am a soldier,” he held his head high, squared his shoulders. “A veteran of a hundred battles, a leader of thousands of good men. And if you ever grab my girl without her permission again, I’ll show you exactly how I climbed the ranks so quickly.”

The door shut before the Twi’lek could say another word.

Silence. Blissful, resounding silence, until… 

“Rex?” came your voice.

He turned, and there you were, some color returning to your face, your eyebrows drawn and worried, “I’m alright,” he said.

You nodded, “I know. But he shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

“He shouldn’t have said those things to you either,” Rex ran a hand over his head. “I should have stopped him from touching you. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, “You didn’t know what our relationship dynamic was, I get it. He’s always been like that, ever since Tia and I were teenagers. Brash, wordy, convinced of his own righteousness. It makes him a decent force for change, and at least he’s focusing that energy in the right direction, but as a friend…”

“He’s shit,” Rex didn’t care enough about the guy to sugarcoat.

You nodded, “Weirdly, he doesn’t get touchy with me unless I’m dating someone, which till now wasn’t often. Tia thinks it's some hazing dominance thing with other guys. She doesn’t understand it. As she says, ‘It’s not a Twi’lek thing, it's not a Ryesim thing, it’s a Shor thing.’”

A thought suddenly struck him, “Is Tia going to be alright with him?”

You chuckled, “Oh yeah, he’s getting the stuffing torn out of him right now, I guarantee you. Tia gets pissed whenever he acts like a jackass, which is a lot of the time. Their mom guilts her into letting him visit her sometimes. Then Shor fucks up, runs away to joins a cause, and comes back sometime later, pretending he’s grown up.”

And Rex thought he had a complicated family life. You tapped the cushions with your foot, “Come sit with me, trooper.”

He did, and you laid your legs over his lap. He took a deep breath, “So…I take it you’ve been to some of his pro-clone protests?”

You quirked a brow, “Course I have. I can’t go to a lot of events because of my work schedule, but sometimes Tia and I go together, to show our support.”

“I…” he furrowed his brow. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

You threaded your fingers through his, “I know. But this matters. You matter. Your brothers matter. I promise to be more careful, but I cannot promise to stop fighting for you. Not when I know how far you’d go for me.”

He nodded and sighed, conflicted, “I don’t want him over here again.”

“I think he may have gotten that message,” you giggled. “I thought he was going to throw up when you grabbed him.”

“It’s not funny,” he said, even as he smiled.

“You’re right,” you said, and your voice took on a dark, coquettish tone. “It’s hot.”

He turned to stare at you, “That’s not funny either.”

“I’m serious,” you pressed, your hand releasing his and trailing up his arm then down again to his thigh. “I’m an evolved woman, but seeing my big, strong boyfriend defend my honor against that asshole? I thought I was worried about keeping my hands off you before, but now…”

“We can’t,” Rex insisted, but it came out hoarse and cracked. He felt the blush on his cheeks, the pressure growing against the zipper. Shit. “I’m not going to risk hurting you.”

You hummed, “You won’t hurt me, Rex. It would actually make me feel a lot better.” You shifted to climb on top of his lap, intent clear in your eyes. The little shorts you were wearing started to ride up, giving him a view he hadn’t seen since he left for his last deployment. You bit your lip, and Rex couldn’t stop the little noise that had built up in his throat. He had to move fast. His hands grabbed at the blanket, wrapping you snuggly and pressing you against him. 

“We have to wait, ner karta,” oh, your ass was wiggling in his lap. He was sure you could feel the hard cock twitching beneath you. “Hold still.”

You grinned, “Will you make it worth my while if I wait?”

Stars…as if there was anything he wouldn’t do for you. Rex gripped the back of your head, brought you down for another one of his firm yet controlled kisses. You let out a little groan as he pulled back. 

He barely recognized his own voice, gruff and full of promise, but the fierce look on his face apparently had you transfixed, “I’ll make it so good for you, cyarika. If you can just be patient for me, if you can wait until you’re strong enough, I’ll lay you down on that bed and I won’t let you leave until I make up for all the time we’ve lost.”

Rex gently, softly laid an open-mouthed kiss under your ear, and you gasped. You squirmed against his lap, but he gathered you up and settled back on the couch, focusing on the screen before him.

He knew though, you recognized a challenge when you saw one. Your breathless voice reached his ears, and his heart rattled against his chest.

“Alright, let’s see how long you can hold out, captain.”

[fictionalgap]

Steal your heart

(chapter 1)

Pairing: Kit Thantalos x Thief! Reader

Summary: You met princess on the way.

Warnings: +18 themes, swearing, Kit Thantalos uses the 'F' word.

Chapters: Chapter 2, Chapter 3,Chapter 4

Notes: Kit Thantalos is 20 years old in this fic. You are either younger than her or the same age with her.

Song Recommendation: Royals - Lorde

You never knew your real parents. Your step parents were thieves and you became one too. They were cool as long as you did what was expected of you. Your step dad died when you were fifteen and your mother wanted you to do some theft because it was usually them doing the theft and now your dad gone she had no motivation to do and you needed money.

You had friends who were thieves like you but your mom told you not to trust them.

"Never trust a thief."

She was right.

They left you on a job when it was hard to save you and now you were in an old horse wagon going to jail.

Thanks to your love of knives, you had multiple hidden in your pants. Two guards were looking and smirking in a mocking way into your direction.

"If we weren't taking thieves to the court I'd take you to my court, darling. " one filthy guard winked at your direction. You rolled your eyes and watched the roads you knew like the back of your hand. Your hand was trying to reach the small knife located inside of your waistband. Your hands were tied from front. It was really hard to do this while two mormons were watching you.

You had an idea.

"Well, maybe we can have some fun while on the road can't we? " You flashed a flirty smile and winked.

Two guards started to grin maliciously as they looked at each other.

"Come here. " You moved to the man's lap quickly. You were sitting on his lap and you saw his eyes moved to your breasts. You slideded your two finger in your waistband and grabbed the small knife then you put your arms around his neck, your hands tied. You waited him to touch you so you could gasp and open the knife without it making a sound. It was a closed knife. There was a small button on the knife. When he touched you you gasped loudly and you clicked it at the same time. It freed you from the ropes. Unfortunately the other guard saw the ropes falling.

"Stop the wagon. " you said in a heavy voice.

"No!" One guard shouted.

You hit the men who tried to grab you by face with your elbow and cut others chin while tried to grab you as well.

You jumped out of the wagon and rolled on the dirt for a while. Then you quickly landed on your feet and ran far away.

You ran for half an hour and now we're pretty tired. You realized you dropped your water bottle and groaned to yourself. You needed water immediately. You kept looking for a water source but everywhere around you was grass.

All of a sudden you heard someone shouting.

"Fuck!"

It was a girl's voice. You moved to see a 20 year oldish brunette who dressed like a knight in practice. You realized she was pretty too when you got close. You watched her behind the tree. You saw a middle length snake moving fast in a direction away from both of you. She was bit. You knew that snake it was lethal. From what you could remember, she had a couple of minutes left. You had to leave since guards were probably after you.

You couldn't.

You ran to the girl and when she saw you she clumsily drew her sword as she winced in pain.

"You don't have much time. Let me help."

She eyed you from head to toe and made some judgement inside her head then nodded fiercely.

"Fine." She dropped her sword and let herself relax on the grass.

The bite on her leg looked bad. You did what you have saw from your father when you were bitten.

"Okay. Do you know any healers around here? "

She was sweating and it made you worried.

"Yeah yeah. " She tried to nod.

"Good." You told her and you picked her up in bridal style. She wasn't light but she wasn't heavy either.

"Tell me where we are going. "

She started to get heavier as your dehydration got worse. It has been two days since you drank or eat anything.

You started to hear a ringing sound.

"Do you hear that? "

"Hear what? " she asked you. Her face was getting more pale.

"How do you feel? " You asked her as you hurried over the direction she showed you.

"Like I've been bit by a huge damn snake."

You rolled your eyes.

"Since you still keep your humor, I guess you're fine. " You said as you kept running with her in your arms.

~~~

You didn't think what it meant for you until the healers in the castle took her to save her life. Your back hurt like bitch and you felt like you were going to pass out in any moment.

You learned she was the princess when one healer shouted "Princess!"

You started to feel dizzy from dehydration and from the fact that you could be caught too easily now that you were in the castle. One of the healers came to your side. She was saying something to you but you didn't hear anything. Your ears filled with a ringing sound before you passed out.

For: @valenftcrush