#Chapter 19 is now available on AO3

[canonicallyobserving911]

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 19 is now available on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Currently 19 chapters completed: 718.8K Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

___________

Here are two emotionally angsty snippets from Chapter 19 of a conversation Buck has with Margaret and Phillip and a separate one Eddie has with Helena and Ramon. 👀

___________

Buck

Buck can tell Margaret’s on the verge of losing it and in a matter of moments, he’s sure he’ll see the remnants of her becoming completely unglued.

In true Phillip fashion, he tries to prevent it from happening when he says, “Yes Evan, please answer your mother.  How do you even know who he is because we never told you about him?”

Buck’s not surprised by his actions at all especially since he witnessed their dynamic the entire time he was growing up in Hershey.

“I know you didn’t but I found him anyway.  I have two dads and he’s one of them!”  He says a little louder than he intends to but he really doesn’t give a rat’s ass if they’re offended by it or not because it had to be said.

How will Buck's conversation with Margaret and Phillip end? 👀

~~~

Eddie

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief but he remains determined to speak his piece.  “Mom, I’m sorry you feel that way and I want you to know that I didn’t want this.  Based on your response, it seems like you believe it is but who wants to go “no contact” with their mother?  Certainly not me and I don’t believe Soph and Adri do either but you’ve left me no choice.  I’m hoping it’ll be temporary but I’ve said what I’m about to say so many times that I sound like a broken record to myself.”

He pauses when he hears her gasp.

After a few seconds he admits, “You don’t listen to me; you disregard everything I say because everything either has to be your way or the highway but unfortunately for you… my life is not yours to control.  I’m a 34-year-old adult man with a 13-year-old son and a fiancé.  Buck and I are getting married but you did nothing but dismiss and disrespect him while you were here.  You treated Chris like he was a baby and I’ve repeatedly reminded you that he’s not 7 years old anymore.”

“You should be trying to find Christopher a mother.”  Helena snaps back.

“Mom!  Whether you believe it or not my son has two dads!  Me and Buck!”

How will Eddie's conversation with Helena and Ramon end? 👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-19 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic #ao3 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #911 on abc #911 abc #Chapter 19 is now available on AO3 #“I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” #This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

[dianawinchester03]

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist by @dianawinchester03

In this rewrite of CW's hit TV Show 'Supernatural'.

Y/N L/N is a longtime friend of the notorious Winchester Brothers, coming from a long line of hunters herself. Growing up with them, their fathers had a goal of avenging their wives deaths. Currently on her own hunting, much to her own fathers demise, she gets a call from her childhood crush, Dean Winchester. Notifying her of his fathers disappearance, will she join the brothers on the hunt to find their father? And will she resolve her relationship with her own?

=====================================

Season One (Complete!)

Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N

Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot

Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo

Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water

Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler

Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary

Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin

Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Season 1, Episode 9 - Home

Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum

Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow

Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith

Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666

Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare

Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders

Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow

Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House

Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked

Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance

Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood

Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation

Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap

Season 1 - Gag Reel

Season Two (Ongoing)

Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying

Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown

Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust

Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things

Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)

Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)

Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)

_____________________

Also available on:

📖; ao3

📖; wattpad

_____________________

Authors Note: I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶I’ll update the list after each chapter release

Xoxo

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean and sam #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #sam and dean #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #masterlist #dean winchester masterlist #supernatural masterlist #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #wattpad #dean winchester x female!reader #series rewrite #rewrite #supernatural series rewrite #the winchester brothers #eventual relationship #eventual smut #eventual romance #x reader

[bg-brainrot]

"When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again" - Astarion x GN!Reader - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Elf!Tav for plot reasons)

Genre: Reincarnation, Angst, Mystery, Slow burn

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Canon-Typical Violence, cw: blood, cw: Astarion's entire backstory, cw: sex, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Fluff, Grief, Mourning, Developing Relationship

Series WC: 113k words and ongoing, 21/?? chapters

Summary: An Elf-Tav reincarnation story where Reincarnated!Tav dreams about Astarion in their nightly reveries and eventually seeks him out once they reach maturity. Things definitely totally go well.

Author’s Notes: I'm bringing over some of my multi-chapter fics from AO3, so if you've already read this, ty!! I love you and appreciate you so much! I will continue to add chapters as I format them, but the full fic is available on AO3 here if you're feeling like a binge.

Heads up-- while there will be explicit moments, this is first and foremost focused on romantic tension and yearning, asking the question: 'Would you still love me if I was someone completely different?’ Explicit scenes will be few and far between and very much focused on their feelings. It’s essentially an established relationship slow burn?

This has unascended Astarion, “good” choices are made in the original timeline, Tav needs to be an elf for this to work, but otherwise no specifics on past Tav. Present day Tav is a magic-user.

Chapters:

Chapter 1: Knifes and Nightmares

At 12 years old, you first dream of the Pale Elf. The encounter scares you and sets you on your path forward.

Chapter 2: The Second Encounter with the Pale Elf

Nearly 19, you think you have a handle of your past lives. However, not all of your past lives are created equal.

Chapter 3: What it Means to Love

Now 29, you're still trying to piece together parts of your past. In particular, what exactly was your relationship with Astarion?

Chapter 4: In this Lifetime

Now 99-years-old, you've managed to ignore your worst impulses to run off to Baldur's Gate. One night's reverie finally breaks you.

Chapter 5: Guidance from a Druid

After finally setting off to find Astarion, you receive a confounding memory from your past life. Ignoring what it might mean, you focus on your task and visiting Halsin, one of your past-self's friends.

Chapter 6: The Man of your Dreams

You make your way toward Astarion, trying your best to prepare for the encounter to come.

Chapter 7: Just One Night

You plead your case to the vampire.

Chapter 8: Who You Have Become

You try to learn more of who Astarion's become, while also trying to convince him of who you were.

Chapter 9: Ghosts of You

After he storms off, you try to track Astarion down only to find yourself on a trip down memory lane. Once you do catch his trail, you’re surprised to see where he’s gone.

Chapter 10: Overheard in the Underdark

You traverse a new landscape, looking for Astarion. What you find might be more than you bargain for, and what you hear might be too much to handle.

Chapter 11: An Interrogation

You spend the night in vampire prison and have a difficult conversation.

Chapter 12: The Source of his Pain

As you aim to leave and never look back, Astarion realizes that perhaps *he's* the one that made the mistake.

Chapter 13: And They Were Roommates

You and Astarion try to find a common ground between you. Things are awkward and tentative, and progress is anything but linear.

Chapter 14: A Blossoming Friendship

Now in your second week of living together, you and Astarion have to get past some of the hurdles your first week introduced, all while getting a bit closer along the way.

Chapter 15: More than Friends Pt. 1

Push finally comes to shove. As fun as living in the present is, Astarion forgets that present dangers are still very, very real. Afterward, emotions run high, and you find yourself in a familiar predicament.

Chapter 16: More than Friends Pt. 2

After talking through the previous night's tryst, emotions are confused, pasts are divulged, and everything comes to a head when your heart and soul want different things.

Chapter 17: What We are Now

When you’re left to your own devices, you find yourself knee-deep in mystery. Despite all of this, Astarion never leaves your mind. And perhaps you never leave his.

Chapter 18: Traveling with a Friend

You and Astarion travel together to Waterdeep. Emotions run high as you reconnect and reestablish your boundaries.

Chapter 19: The Wizard’s Tower

After traveling through Waterdeep, you and Astarion finally arrive at Gale's tower. Introductions are made, tours are had, and the relationship between yourself and Astarion continues to remain complicated.

Chapter 20: Sweets and Shopping

After receiving some advice from Gale, you and Astarion spend the day shopping and talking through your friendship.

Chapter 21: Dansarra’s Delights

Your wizard friend gives you a nigh impossible task, and you spend the day trying to find your opening to complete it.

Chapter 22 - TBA

...

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion masterlist #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #when he's all but forgotten how to love again #whabfhtla #reincarnation trope #elf!tav #astarion x you #astarion slowburn

[whatswrongwithblue]

Artowrk by inuhalfdemon

Series Masterlist

Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

TW: canon typical violence, language, character behavior. recreational drug use. body image issues. references to self harm. OC has ptsd from sexual trauma and spousal abuse - not from Alastor! cannibalism. gun violence. slow burn. alastor is an ass and alastor is also soft. the smut will eventually include: p&v, fingering, oral - both receiving. biting, scratching, blood play. occasional shadow tentacle and sex toy usage. Anal play. Nun Alastor makes an appearance later on. Breeding kinks - both Alastor and OC deal with breeding cycles. Touch adverse Alastor. Ace-spectrum Alastor.

Also available on AO3 .

Chapter 1 - The Pilot: Alastor returns to Hell. Basically the events of the Pilot, but rewritten with Mina present.

Part 1

Chapter 2 - Reflections. The short story of Mina's life and death.

Chapter 3 - Overture. Events of Episode 1 as well as what happened during the Extermination the day before.

Part 2

Chapter 4 - Terminally Dispelled. Mina arrives in Hell.

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star. Events of Episode 2. Alastor is a simping show-off but still not good at processing emotions.

Part 3:

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine. - Mina's POV from the end of last chapter.

Chapter 7 - Ashes in My Wake. - Alastor handle's being smitten really, really badly.

Chapter 8 - Scrambled Eggs. - Alastor finds out someone has hurt his wife.

Part 4:

Chapter 9 - Wretched and Joyful. - first time smut

Chapter 10 - Masquerade. - Events of Episode 4. Angst ahead!

Everything below is finished, only unpublished because I need to proof read!

Chapter 11 - Stitches. - will be out June 15th.

Part 5: Chapter 12 - Drunk on Life. Chapter 13 - Dad Beat Dad.

Part 6: Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven. Chapter 15 - Tainted. Chapter 16 - Possessed. Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun. Chapter 18 - Welcome (Back) to Heaven.

Part 7: Chapter 19 - A Fate that Befell Him. Chapter 20 - The Silence in Between. Chapter 21 - Hello Abaddon. 22 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me.

Part 8: 2 -3 Chapters - in progress

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fanfiction #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fic #the fire in the sin

[welldonebeca]

the devil in the marble - masterlist

Summary: First love is always a little foolish; you look at the person by your side and plan a life with them with the ease a child has at imagining a fairytale. It’s feverish and impatient, with new experiences and new feelings, and a comfort one has never felt before. After being asked to pose for a statue months before the 74th Hunger Games, Cato falls in love with its beautiful and odd sculptor. Pairing: Female!Reader x Cato (District 2's Male Tribute) Warnings: Fluff, falling in love, canon compliant, pre-74th Hunger Games, District 2. Tension. Hurt/Comfort.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 Chapter 9 on Patreon (3rd of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 10 on Patreon (10th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 11 on Patreon (16th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 12 on Patreon (23rd of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 13 on Patreon (30th of March 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 14 on Patreon (6th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 15 on Patreon (13th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 16 on Patreon (20th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 17 on Patreon (27th of April 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 18 on Patreon (4th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 19 on Patreon (11th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 20 on Patreon (18th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 21 on Patreon (25th of May 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3) Chapter 22 on Patreon (1st of June 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3)  Chapter 23 on Patreon (8th of June 2024 on Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 28 /Chapter 29 / Chapter 30 / Chapter 31 / Chapter 32 / Chapter 33 / Chapter 34 / Chapter 35  (on Patreon)

(more)

"the devil in the marble" was posted on my Patreon on June 2022. To read all 23 available chapters now and have early access to the last arc as it is posted, subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and I promise you won't regret it.

. . .

Taglist is open.

#welldonebeca's the devil in the marble #cato hadley #cato hunger games #cato fanfic #cato fanfiction #cato x reader #cato hadley x reader #cato series #74th hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games fanfic

[copperbadge]

New Novel, Who Dis

I need to post about the therapy discussion again (I still have asks to answer as well) but while I figure out how to do that, I wanted to give you all a heads-up that I'm going to start posting the newest Shivadh novel this Saturday!

It's 19 chapters total, so I'll be posting one a day to AO3 for most of October; the novel will also be available in its entirety on Google Docs, the same as the last few have been. This one is roughly three times as long as the first book in the series, so...that'll either be fun or frustrating. :D

I do want to note, if you're going to read on gdocs, there are two or three spoilers that I haven't talked about; they should be evident when you hit them, and I'll note them in the chapter headers. If you want to yell about those you should feel free but please at least yell "SPOILERS" first or similar for the readers who are taking the more leisurely route. I'm excited to see everyone's reactions to them.

Here's the official summary for now:

The Royals And The Ramblers

Change is in the air for the Shivadh royal family! King Gregory III is marrying his American fiancee, Eddie Rambler, in a series of weddings -- one in Eddie's hometown in California, one for the family in Fons-Askaz, and one memorable blowout for the whole country. Eddie's sister Monday, a little protective of her big brother, is wary of the royals at first, but by the time the first wedding rolls around she's also agreed to travel back with them and serve as a surrogate so that Eddie and Gregory can start a family.

The only snag? She's been enjoying a no-strings affair with the royal bodyguard, Georgiana, and they had agreed it would just be a fun fling until the royals went home again. Now they're both in Fons-Askaz, Monday feeling a little in over her head and Georgie feeling a little wistful -- so an extension on the fling might be in order. They both know Monday, whose family is in California and whose life is on the waves, can't stay, so they're doing their best not to get attached.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family is adjusting to new roles and relationships, finding surprising ways to keep growing up....and, as always, exercising that irreverent Shivadh sense of humor on one another.

I'm also very excited for you guys to meet the Ramblers (especially Monday and Ephraim), the new princeps Joan, and the royal offspring. Hopefully you all will enjoy reading about them as much as I've enjoyed the writing!

#shivadhverse

[modern-day-bard]

Masterlist

Other Duties As Assigned: A Joel Miller Fanfiction

Summary:

Guinevere Russell is the sole heir to the multimedia conglomerate, Russell Corp. After obtaining her MBA and moving home to New York City, she’s been forced to return to a tumultuous relationship with her father and the rest of the board. Gwen would prefer to run off with her friends and see just how far she can take a distraction, and she’s perfectly happy doing so. That is, until her father hires a bodyguard to keep a watchful eye on her. She just can’t figure out if he was hired for her safety, or to uncover the secrets no one else knows she possesses…

Joel Miller is a personal security officer on leave from his last assignment, where he worked abroad for a U.S. embassy. He has avoided private security detail for years after a life-changing accident, but when he gets this call, the money is too good to pass up. But Joel has never met a client with such an aversion to being protected. Regardless of the paycheck, Joel will soon realize this is his biggest challenge yet, but not for the reason he thinks…

When their secrets, both past and present, collide in a mixture of tension and new-found feelings, the results can be catastrophic. Now, Gwen’s safety is put at risk more than ever before, and the two of them have to get to the bottom of the mystery, and what they mean to each other, before it’s too late.

Content Warning: 18+ This story includes mature themes such as drinking, stalking, violence, and explicit smut. Minors, do not interact.

a/n: This is a WIP! I’m writing more chapters while editing before I post. I hope to post on a consistent basis. I’m also posting this story on ao3 and Wattpad. Tumblr tends to take me the longest to post from, but I’m determined to make it happen!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Worth The Feeling: A Javi Gutierrez Fanfiction

Summary: Ava Cohen is a 26-year-old production assistant working tirelessly to achieve her dream of one day becoming a film director. As hiatus from her last project comes to a close, she returns to set with Norwick Productions, whom she has worked with for the past four years. After a major fo paux on the first day of work, Ava is worried she has offended the star of this next production: Javi Gutierrez. She will soon come to realize, this couldn’t be further from the truth. When the cast and crew travel to Italy to film on location, the seriousness of what Ava is feeling becomes all too real, just as a new career opportunity lands in her lap. As tensions run high, watchful eyes set in, and her career is put at stake, can all of this be worth it in the end?

Content Warning: 18+

This story includes explicit smut, intimidation, and an age gap relationship (MC is 26, Javi is in his 40s). Minors, do not interact.

a/n: The full story is available on AO3 and on Wattpad as well for anyone who is interested. Thank you to anyone who reads my story! 🤍

Total word count: 93,547

Pairing: javi gutierrez x f!reader. No physical descriptors of the MC, except for her being shorter than Javi. Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

#pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #tlou #narcos #romcom #fluff #angst #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez smut #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez fluff #worth the feeling #joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou au #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us hbo #other duties as assigned

[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch. 17 -True Bravery

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, canon-typical violence, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma, romance, protective angry vampire  @alastorhazbin  Words: 5757

I've stalled enough. It's time to get back to the grittier style of Hellsing and the action bits!

***I opted out of third-party sharing, but I don't actually trust Tumblr to honour this preference. So from now on, the rest of this fic will only be available on AO3 with links posted here. I spend hundreds of hours on this fic and frequently write well into the wee hours of the morning (4 or 5 am) when I could be sleeping instead. And I willingly do this for FREE because I LOVE writing Alucard. That this platform may now be selling my creative work that I poured so much of myself into (even if I'm merely a small author) to some company so AI can learn to imitate my writing (along with countless other authors) and churn out ‘fics’ gives me the chills. I guarantee the computer doesn't love our favourite characters the way we content creators do. The idea of AI-generated fics simply feels wrong to me and makes writing for fandom lose its essence. I am not willingly handing over full chapters of my fic to Tumblr to feed this process.

A short excerpt is below the cut.

The knight raised a brow. “Servant, if your human is to reside at Hellsing, she will eventually be dragged into our conflict with the undead. She must see firsthand what it is we do, preferably under controlled conditions, and she will continue to do so on occasion beyond this assignment.”

A Hellsing’s word was law and you must both abide by it. Never forget that you were here because of her permission. It was unspoken, but the threat was barely veiled.

Integra’s eyes narrowed. "Vampire, the Hellsing organization has no use for a tool that can't complete a simple mission."

Alucard dissolved into his spectral state before stretching into a disproportionately drawn out shadow of a man that flowed over the thick carpet. His smirk returned as crimson blazed at the challenge. He placed a hand over where his heart should be and bowed. As expected of Integra Hellsing to possess the audacity to issue the Devil himself an ultimatum. He enjoyed her headstrong nature.

He chuckled with amusement. Orders were orders. “Very well, we shall dispatch this band together, as you wish.” 

“And you will ensure she is to return completely unharmed.” 

As if it needed to be stated. You coming to harm wasn’t within the realm of consideration. The creature cackled at the idea, his laugh echoing through the morose chamber as vermillion flashed; Alucard became one with the shadows and melted away, the fading sound of his laughter the only thing he left behind.

It was his duty to protect you. He would not fail when you needed his strength.

~To be Continued~

Ch. 18- Interlude III (featuring Vladcard and bondage) Ch. 19- Valentine's

#alucard hellsing #alucard x reader #alucard fanfiction #alucard x you #alucard #hellsing ultimate #hellsing alucard #my comfort vampire #my writing #they're pretty much married now #hellsing ova

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 3, Chapter 19

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 3

Chapter 19

Calina slid the vial of blood across the table to Yelena. The other Widow looked at it, looked back at Calina, and raised an eyebrow. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

Calina rolled her eyes. “Very funny. I need you to give this to Melina for testing.”

“Why?”

“Its from a new victim of the pheromone drug. We think the formula has changed.” Calina didn’t want to admit that it was her blood sample, taken the night she’d been dosed. After the bath had warmed her up - and after Matt had warmed her in other ways - she’d asked him to grab the well-stocked first aid kit from his apartment. Then, perched on her couch and clad in nothing but his shirt, she’d drawn a vial of blood from her arm.

She wanted answers.

She needed them.

It was personal now.

Before, she’d been invested in the hunt for whoever was manufacturing this drug mainly because it was so important to Matt. And because she empathised with the victims who’d been stripped of their reason and control by an outside force.

But she more than empathised now. She’d lived through it.

The grief. The pain. The heart wrenching emptiness of losing Matt. 

And the anger of knowing that it was a lie. She’d been manipulated - tortured with falsehoods and fantasies - through a trick of her own neurochemistry.

And that really pissed her off.

But she couldn’t explain all that to Yelena. She was still too…raw. Matt’s death may have been a lie, but her reaction to it had been very real. And just thinking about it threatened to reduce her to tears again.

Yelena nodded. “No problem.” She pocketed the small vial of blood then relaxed into her chair and tipped her head back, closing her eyes to enjoy the slight breeze in the air. They were seated at a small table outside a cafe across from Central Park and it was a beautiful spring day. And Yelena looked so…relaxed. Which was not a word Calina usually associated with her sister.

“Are you used to it yet?” she asked.

“Used to what?” Yelena answered, her eyes still closed.

“Life. Freedom. Getting to decide the course of your day - even if it’s just to grab coffee with a friend.”

“Who says you’re my friend?” Yelena mumbled, the slight curve of her lips giving away the joke.

Calina laughed and kicked the other woman under the table. “Yelena!”

Yelena finally opened her eyes and shrugged. “No. I’m not used to it.”

“Well, its only been 6 weeks. Give it time.”

“It’s not that.” Yelena lowered her voice and turned serious. “There are still Widows out there, Calina, and they still need to be freed. Until every last one is woken up from the serum, I can’t start this new ‘life’.” She made air quotes as she said the last work, her chunky silver rings glinting in the sunlight.

Calina dipped her head and stirred her coffee, the familiar guilt rising. Once again, she’d been selfish - she’d ignored her obligation to her sisters and had lost herself in her relationship with Matt. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have asked how that was going. And I should be helping you.”

Yelena waved her off. “If we’re stuck and need your help, we will call. But we’ve got this.”

“Are you sure?”

She shrugged. “It’s hard sometimes. Tracking them down is becoming more and more challenging, and seeing their reaction when they wake is always difficult…but its worth it. It feels like I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing. And when all of this mess is finally cleared up, then I’ll make a good life for myself.”

“Speaking of clearing up messes, have you heard from Natasha recently? Is she still on the run?”

“Yes,” Yelena growled. “It’s been two years, and still they hunt her across the planet. Calling her a traitor.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yelena shrugged, her eyes downcast as she stirred her coffee. “She calls sometimes, to check in. To let me know she’s okay. But she doesn’t want to risk jeopardising the Widows’ freedom - my freedom - by visiting.”

“I’m sorry,” Calina repeated, knowing the words were inadequate. Natasha meant so much to Yelena, but the two women had barely had a chance to reconnect and mend the rift in their relationship before they were separated again.

Yelena shrugged again. “It is what it is. But enough about that. What about you? Have you figured out what you’re meant to do with this new life of yours?”

“Ugh,” Calina groaned and slid down in her seat. “No. I have no clue.”

“You’ve always liked books, what about being a librarian?”

It was Calina’s turn to shrug. “I thought about it. But I want to do something that helps people more directly - like Matt with his law firm.”

“Become a lawyer, then.”

“No. It’s too…confining, working in that kind of system.”

“What about…self defence trainer. Put your skills to good use teaching others how to fight.”

Calina laughed. “We didn’t exactly learn in the most conventional way - I wouldn’t know how to train someone without using Red Room tactics.”

“And that would get you thrown in jail over here.”

“Exactly.”

At that moment, a dog walker jogged passed the cafe with a pack of dogs surrounding her, all of them strapped to her belt by brightly coloured leashes. Yelena tracked her as she crossed the street to enter the park, a slightly wistful look in her eyes. “Maybe you’re overthinking it,” she said. “Just do what makes you happy.”

“Would that make you happy?” Calina responded. “Looking after a bunch of dogs?”

“Not a bunch of them. Just one.”

“You want a dog. Like, a pet?” Calina could hear the surprise in her voice, but it wasn’t really a shock. She’d always known Yelena was a caretaker - and once she finished taking care of all the Widows across the world, she would need to focus that energy elsewhere.

“Yeah,” Yelena said. “In Ohio, the neighbours next door to us had a German Shepherd. She was big and strong and looked scary, but her name was ‘Princess’ and she was the sweetest thing. Nat and I would play with her in the garden all the time…” She trailed off, looking into the distance as if lost in a memory.

“I always forget that you had a life before the Red Room. I used to be so jealous of that - before they brainwashed those kinds of emotions out of us.”

“It would have been easier if I’d been brought to the Red Room as a baby, like you. At least then I wouldn’t have known what I was missing.”

“Yeah, I remember you being so…angry…all the time. And you would take it out on us during practice.”

Yelena winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry. We were all dealt a shit hand. And fighting you made us all better - it probably kept us alive and in the program. And what you’ve done to free us all - to keep freeing other Widows - it’s amazing, Yelena. I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for that.”

Yelena shrugged. “I was just doing what was right.”

“But not everyone would have. You had your freedom. You were out. And you risked it all, to come back and save us. Even though you had no loyalty to us - not really. We weren’t raised to be loyal, or develop bonds, or friendships. But you still came back. So thank you.”

Yelena squirmed in her chair, looking uncomfortable. “Alright, alright. Enough.”

Calina had never seen this side of her sister before. She was used to Yelena, the no-nonsense leader. She was used to Yelena, the hard-ass fighter. She was even getting used to off-duty Yelena, who painted her nails blue and wore mismatched prints and fur coats. But this awkward and embarrassed Yelena was brand new.

And she couldn’t help but tease her. She reached across the table, took her hand and gave her a sincere, serious look. “You’re a hero, Yelena Belova. An inspiration to all of us.”

Yelena frowned, looking even more discomforted. Then she saw through Calina’s act. She yanked her hand back, and laughed. “Fuck off.”

Calina smiled. “I couldn’t resist. I finally found your one weakness: compliments.”

Yelena laughed again, the deep husky cackle sounding so carefree. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”

“No you won’t,” Calina grinned. “You love me. Admit it.”

“Never. You’re a pain in the ass, Balashova.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

———

Matt was distracted. Again.

Calina had set up a workspace in the conference room, and had spent the last couple of weeks diligently researching the pheromone case.

Karen liked the new arrangement, as it freed her up to concentrate on investigating some of their paid cases. Foggy liked it for the same reason - and because Calina always volunteered to grab them  food at lunchtime.

Calina was enjoying the sense of purpose it gave her. She’d told him just that the other night at Fogwell’s. “I think I need the structure,” she’d said, dodging his left hook. They’d both been gloved up, and had sparred in the ring for a good half an hour -  neither hitting hard enough to injure, but enjoying the adrenaline rush of the fight anyway.

“I thought that’s what put you off working in the coffee shop - it was too rigid for you,” he’d responded, jumping to avoid her attempted sweep of his ankles.

“It was. I can’t do a 9-to-5 job. But I need something to get me out of the apartment each day. A routine…but one I can control.”

“So you want to be self-employed, basically. Freelance.”

“Yeah.”

Trying to figure out Calina’s future career was a common theme to their conversations these day, and they were gradually whittling down her options. But in the meantime, she wanted to focus her time on solving the pheromone case.

Because she had a real and personal stake in it now.

She’d been doggedly reviewing and cross-referencing the mountain of financial information they’d managed to accrue on their main suspects - the men behind the companies that had purchased the main ingredient of the drug: Arsonium bromide.

Matt understood her drive. And he was grateful for her help. He also liked coming in to work with her each morning, and having lunch with her in the middle of the day.

It was just a tad…distracting.

Her scent was now a constant presence, and it’s intensity just seemed to grow and grow with every moment. It layered every surface and saturated every room…but its effect on him never seemed to dull. It was still the same potent stimulant it had always been - since that very first night he’d scented Calina on their rooftop.

The little sounds she made throughout the day were just as hard to tune out - the rustle of her clothes as she shifted in her seat. The tap of her heeled boots as she walked from the conference room table to the printer near Karen’s office. The gentle scrape of her teeth over her lower lip when she bit it in concentration. The soft sigh as another lead failed to pan out…

He was just too aware of her. Every minute of the day, his senses were conscious of her - even when he was trying to concentrate on his work or speak to a client. A small part of him was always tuned to her frequency. And he didn’t know if it was a side effect of their long separation, or if it would always be like this with her. This perpetual…wanting.

They’d given up on his ridiculous ‘going slow’ idea. Every night was now spent in her bed, and most of those nights were spent touching her and kissing her and making love to her. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough-

“Matt!”

He jerked his head up at the sound of Karen’s voice. Judging by the volume and degree of irritation, she’d been calling his name for a while.

“Sorry, I spaced out,” he replied. “What’s up?”

“Calina has something.”

Matt pressed pause on the transcript he was failing to listen to, pulled his headphone from his ear, and followed Karen to the conference room. He nodded to Foggy, who was already seated around the table, and he paused for a moment to take in Calina’s non-verbal greeting - one she was probably completely unaware of.

It was a kind of biological acknowledgement of his presence. A combination of a slight spike in her temperature, a jump in her heart rate, and a cocktail of chemicals suddenly rushing through her veins, thick with endorphins and dopamine and a whole host of unknown hormones. It was difficult to describe to himself - let alone someone without his heightened senses - so he’d never mentioned it to Calina. He also didn’t want to make her self-conscious about it.

Because he never wanted it to go away.

It was like being warmed by the rays of the sun on a frosty day. Like the relief of resting your head on a soft pillow at the end of a long, hard night. Comfort and affection and a feeling of coming home, mixed with a subtle undercurrent of desire.

It was intoxicating. Addictive. And a relief to know he wasn’t the only one so physically affected by the other’s presence.

“Hey,” she said, offering him a more traditional greeting.

“Hey,” he replied, taking the seat next to Foggy. “What’ve you found?”

“Our bad guy.”

He sat up straight, shocked. “Are you serious?”

“Really?” Karen said at the same time.

Calina took a deep breath. “I think so. It’ll need confirmation…but I think so.”

“So who is it?” Foggy asked.

“Landon Cross. Founder and CEO of Cross Corp.”

Karen frowned. “I don’t recognise that name from the list of Arsonium bromide purchasers.”

“That’s because it wasn’t on it. But you’ll recognise the name Midworld Industries.”

“Yeah, it rings a bell.” Karen opened her battered notebook and started searching through the scrawled pages. “Here it is - Midworld Industries - an independent pharmaceutical R&D company. They were apparently researching the potential use of Arsonium as a ‘nanocarrier for intracellular oncology therapeutics’, whatever that means. But we eliminated them early on - the papertrail checked out and they actually stopped purchasing the chemical last year.”

Calina nodded. “That’s because they found a way to manufacture a synthetic mimic.”

“How the hell did you work that out?” Foggy asked.

“It was thanks to Melina, the Black Widow chemist. She analysed my- a new sample we recently got hold of.”

Matt winced at Calina’s near slip-up. She didn’t want the team to know about her experience with the pheromone. Part of her was embarrassed that she’d managed to get dosed - even though he’d told her that was ridiculous. She was also sick of being viewed as a victim. Foggy and Karen knew about the way she was raised, the mind control serum, the coma…and she didn’t want them to pity her for yet one more episode of trauma.

Which he also said was ridiculous. His friends thought she was amazing.

“I can’t get over how…normal…she is,” Karen had remarked a few days ago, watching from the window as Calina jogged down the street to collect their lunch order.

“What do you mean?” Matt had asked. He could think of a lot of adjectives to describe Calina, but ‘normal’ was nowhere near the top of his list. She still seemed so new to the world. The smallest things would sometimes trip her up, like not knowing what a 401K was, or how to make a bowl of cereal.

“Just…with everything she’s been through, she seems so unaffected. So…nice. As if she really was just a college grad from Illinois, or whatever her cover story was. If it was me, I’d be so angry at the world.”

“You’ve gone through your fair share of trauma, too.”

“Yeah, and I was angry at the world for a long time. I closed myself off from everyone - right up until I met you guys, really. But Calina…she’s embraced this new life so effortlessly.”

Matt wouldn’t call it effortless - he saw how much she struggled sometimes. With her nightmares. Her guilt about her past. Her doubts about her innate goodness. Her uncertainty over her future. But he’d never share that with his friends. He liked the way they saw her - because it echoed how he saw her:

Strong. Determined.

Miraculous.

He just wished Calina saw herself that way.

“Okay, so this new analysis proves the compound is synthetic,” Foggy said. “What does that have to do with this Landon Cross guy?”

“Melina determined that the only way to synthesise Arsonium Bromide in large enough quantities to be useful was with a carbon framework printer, a piece of cutting edge technology. So I traced the companies that recently purchased one of those devices.”

“Couldn’t have been that many,” Karen commented.

“No. Only three, in fact. And when I looked closer at the financials of one of the companies - EnGene, I saw a name I recognised.”

“Midworld Industries?” Foggy guessed.

“No. Sato Holdings, a conglomerate based in Tokyo.”

“I need diagrams and a slide show to keep track of this.”

Calina smiled at Foggy’s joke. “Okay, I’ll cut to the chase. Midworld and EnGene, through multiple layers of shell corporations, are both owned by Sato Holdings. But Sato holdings doesn’t exist. Its a sham company created by-”

“Landon Cross,” Matt said, putting it together.

“Bingo. It’s a good sham - clever enough to fool US Inland Revenue, but if you can read Japanese, and know where to look, the ruse falls apart.”

“It still seems…tenuous,” Karen remarked.

Calina nodded. “It definitely needs confirmation, but my instincts say it’s him. I know bad guys - I know the way they operate, and how they try to hide. But there’s always a stench that clings to them, and I can smell it on Cross.”

“Okay,” Karen said, collecting her notes and getting to her feet, “I’ll start digging into Cross.”

“And we’ll head to the Courthouse,” Foggy said. “We have that hearing at 4, Matt.”

Matt nodded. “I remember. I’ll just be a minute.” When the other two left, Matt pulled Calina into his arms, and kissed her, a soft brush of his lips against hers. “You’re amazing. Have I told you that today?”

She shrugged. “It was just a bit of research.”

Matt reached out and touched the stack of papers on the table. “Judging by the thickness of this pile, it was more than just a ‘bit’. And how much of this is in Japanese?”

She laughed. “Only about a third.”

He shook his head and kissed her again. “Like I said - amazing.”

“All I did was get us a name - a direction to look. Proving Landon is behind all this, and figuring out how to stop him-”

“Is a problem for tomorrow. Take the win today.”

She cocked her head. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Matt Murdock?”

“This is the new-and-improved, optimistic version.”

“Hmmm, he might take some getting used to.”

“I guess we’ll have to spend more time together then.”

She laughed. “I’m not sure that’s even possible.”

“I like a challenge.”

She laughed again, soft and low, and leaned into his third kiss.

A kiss that was soon interrupted by a wry voice behind him. “I hate to break up this disgustingly sappy display, but I need a favour.”

“Hello, Jessica,“ Matt replied, turning to face the figure in the doorway. “What do you need?”

“I need to borrow your girlfriend.”

————–

Chapter 20

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc

[leonardalphachurch]

Red vs Blue: Reformation

After Epsilon fragments himself inside of his mind, Tucker is left to pick up the pieces.

An alternate take on Tucker’s story in Season 19: Restoration

Chapter 1 - Recognition

More chapters to come.

Full thing also available on Ao3

*******

Yello. This is Tucker “Lavender” Rose. Season 19 did my boy so fucking dirty I immediately had to come up with a story that would treat Tucker (and Sigma) with respect.

This is going to be kind of formatted like a script? Except I don’t know how to actually format scripts lol. And it’s not exactly a strict “rewrite” of season 19. I had the choice between writing something that could theoretically be a season of the show or having fun, and I chose having fun. If we were to write actual script it would actually feature the scenes of The Reds and Caboose or Wash etc. but I’ve decided I’m only going to be doing Tucker’s stuff. Imagine that those scenes are basically what happens in canon. Maybe one day we’ll want to completely rewrite the season but for now: take this.

#fanfic: rvb reformation #lavernius tucker #sigma rvb #rvb19 spoilers #rvb restoration #chromatic writings #Written by Lavender

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect▸Shigaraki x femReader

Chapter Summary:

◤He fucking groans. “See, you could be so good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return. Shigaraki slips his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“Monster,” you croak a whisper and try to look away, but he grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze back on him.

“I thought we already established that?”◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Very Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Past Child Abuse, Bullying, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four • Five • Six • Seven • Eight • Nine • Ten(ko) • Eleven • Twelve • Thirteen Updates every Monday!

Chapter 12 - Bystander Effect

So far, tonight has only been two things—boring and incredibly annoying.

Maybe it was the lack of alcohol in your system and you ought to fix that.

Abandoning the idea of going back to the bar entirely, you head out for the open drinks in the living room, the ones that were available for anyone to roofie. You find a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of coke, and you pour those motherfuckers into a big cup, praying you’ll have a well-deserved blackout in the morning.

You weren’t planning to get wasted before, but you don’t think you can stomach waiting for Taylor to go home without being highly intoxicated anymore and you weren’t about to cut their fun short over some toxic bitches from high school.

Some time passes, allowing the alcohol to properly loosen you up and making the music sound decent enough in the dark room for you to sway your hips next to other strangers. You get lost in the rhythm until you take out your phone, checking for updates from your friend and only seeing random strings of letters they spammed you with.

Taytay – dd ykn w ur th best [Sent 10:19 PM]

Taytay – I f knig lov u nbitch’;’2134 <5 [Sent 10:23 PM]

The stupid messages from your already wasted friend brought warmth to your chest, making you genuinely smile—until someone accidentally bumps into you and knocks you away from the dancing mass, where you caught a glimpse of a strangely familiar looking group, hanging out on the couch not too far away from where you stood.

Feeling dizzy, you try squinting to see better through the flickering party lights, when you finally realize that the person you’re looking at was—Shigaraki?

You swallow. Why was he here?

Next to Shigaraki who was manspreading on the couch, sat Dabi, the Dabi–that you’re semi-sure appeared only because of you manifesting his existence earlier. You’re now ninety percent convinced that he’s the one Mina’s purple haired arm candy downloaded his style and personality from.

But they weren’t alone, no.

Dabi was getting the equivalent of a lap dance from some slutty girl, who in the process of basically riding him, was sinking her hand into Shigaraki’s shoulder, fingers gripping him tightly and him just staring at her grip in a daze. She looked exactly like the type of girl you’d speculated he’d be into, back when you only thought of him as a creep.

Something indescribable courses through your blood, clawing at your heart and twisting in your chest, making you shift your gaze from him to the rest of his group—three more dudes and a blonde chick that looked to be too young to be here—passing blunts and alcohol between the six of them.

All of them were enjoying themselves drinking, smoking, getting high and laughing.

He was laughing.

You’re positive you’ve never seen Shigaraki laugh so freely before, the thought nagging at you for some reason.

He’d seem to snap out of something, grabbing the girl’s hand that was casually sliding closer to his chest, forcefully pulling her into him and whispering something into the girl’s ear with a creepy smile, her almost losing balance off Dabi’s lap if not for the fuckboy’s hands on her hips holding her closer and him angrily shouting something at Shigaraki in return.

It wasn’t a surprise for you to figure out you weren’t special to him, but seeing it in front of your eyes ended up burning like acid. It bothered you enough to look away, emptying the remaining contents of your plastic cup, crumpling it in the process and missing the look of horror on her gorgeous fucking face as you chuck the offending piece of garbage at the floor.

Why would he lie to you? Why go through the trouble of confessing to you, of attempting to fix things with you?

And why the fuck do you care who he fucking toys with?! Shouldn’t you be happy?!

You snap out of your bubbling betrayal when you notice someone from the group waving excitedly in your direction. He shouts something at his friends, handing his smoke and his drink to the blonde chick while you squint to understand what’s going on. Six pairs of eyes start scanning the room until their gaze finally lands in your direction.

Shigaraki’s eyes visibly widen the second he sees you and you look around yourself feeling flustered, counting on a miracle that it wasn’t you they were all fucking looking at.

When you see your arcade friend quickly rushing to get to you, swerving through the mass of bodies, you quickly realize how morbidly wrong you are.

Fuck.

You don’t think you’re ready for another bout of trouble tonight, so you try getting away before your new friend reaches you, hoping—praying, to melt with the crowd and lose them, to pretend like there weren’t two pairs of eyes, angry crimson and amused cerulean, that stared holes through your body.

Unfortunately, your hopes of an escape are cut extremely short when a strong buff arm grabs you by your shoulder, effectively spinning you around and pulling you into a sweaty bear hug.

“Sorry, ‘m tipsy, but I can’t believe I got to see you here!” Iguchi shouts happily through the music and closely into your ear, making you nod your drunk head and trying to make sense of what was happening to you.

You couldn’t return a proper greeting to him, because you spot Shigaraki swiftly cutting through half the room in the blink of an eye, angrily pushing bodies away from him while the rest of his flock hurries to follow behind. Iguchi leans into your vision, pink color spreading over his cheeks and says something to you, but you struggle to focus when you feel the knot in your stomach growing.

When Shigaraki finally reaches you, he violently shoves his own friend to the side, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him be.

“Fucking my friends now too, huh? Disgusting whore.” He actually spits right in front of your feet and you have to take a step back, nearly getting hit and scrunching your nose in the process.

You look around and see that you’re now surrounded by his circle, people you’ve only heard of from the insane fucking rumors circulating around Shigaraki.

Iguchi looked absolutely bewildered when he regained his balance. “Y-You guys know each other?” was all he could ask.

Shigaraki finally broke the intense eye contact with you and snapped his head to his friend.

“Know each other?” he growled through clenched teeth.

The blonde girl starts jumping excitedly, a sort of unsettling manic look coloring her face. Dabi only smiled at you slyly, standing there, arms crossed and enjoying the show, his little slut in tow.

The fuck? Were all his friends as insane as he was? Surely they could tell a fight was about to break out, and knowing Shigaraki, it was bound to be ugly. Were they not concerned at all? Unless–

Unless that’s exactly the kind of thing they were looking forward to.

You can’t help but feel a tremor in your bones. This was not high school and you weren’t fighting teenagers anymore. These were very much possibly convicted adult criminals standing around you and waiting sadistically for something bad to happen.

And you cannot take Shigaraki in a real fight.

Random people were now also turning their heads, trying to figure out what was going on, eventually pulling out their phones to either text or film the potential shit-show. You realize how badly you’d fucked up to get drunk.

“Answer me, bitch. Are you fucking my friends?” he hissed the question at you, grabbing the fabric of your clothes and pulling you to him, red eyes full of contempt.

“Can you blame her, boss?” a rough low voice spoke up before you could reply and adds, “She was so fucking cute in the store last time, lookin’ at me all starry eyed, weren’t you doll? Let me have her after you.” Dabi coos, sending you a kiss and unnecessarily fanning the flames to stir trouble, completely ignoring the obvious disappointment on his partner for the night.

And it worked like a fucking charm, because Shigaraki looked at you, white knuckling the fabric of your top like he was about to burn this entire building down, together with you in it.

Your head spun so fast—too many voices, too many people, too much shit going wrong tonight.

You’re anxious. You’re pissed. You wanna go home.

You’re tired, you’re tired, you’re tired. You miss your—

He snarls at you, red eyes narrowing and you snap.

“Fucking—ENOUGH!” you scream at the top of your lungs and straight into Shigaraki’s face, making him flinch and loosen his grip. Then you do the only thing your drunk overwhelmed brain could think of—

You slap the absolute living shit out of Shigaraki Tomura.

The entire room—including yourself, gasped in unison.

He completely froze, placing one hand on the burning and rapidly reddening cheek, staring off into space.

You heard his friends giggle and Dabi toppling over in laughter. The only person who was more unamused than yourself and the guy you just humiliated in front of an entire party of people, was Iguchi.

Not only was he unamused, he was shaking, looking absolutely horrified at what you’ve done to his friend.

The music died down completely by now, and you unwillingly became the protagonist of this room.

You try to step away, but your back hits the front of one of Shigaraki’s taller dark-haired friends, who was sporting a smug look that told you, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Uh oh, the creep is gonna snap her neck!” you hear someone shout from the peanut gallery. That comment seemed to wake him up because he lunged forward to grab your arm and started dragging you away with him somewhere—until Taylor drunkenly stepped in to break up whatever this mess was that you got yourself tangled into.

“Ya, okay, enough of that, Crusty!” They clap their hands twice like they were talking to a servant, grabbing Shigaraki’s arm to get him to let go of you.

He forcefully pushes them out of the way, causing your drunk friend to lose their footing and hit the floor hard.

You screeched at him again, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as you could, hearing him groan and finally freeing yourself. Your brain barely registered the blonde chick reaching for something and you saw a glint of familiar shaped metal as you stumbled to get to your friend who was kneeling on the floor, tears running down their face.

Shigaraki looked at his own friend who was gearing up for something and signaling her to stop whatever she was going to do.

Only for you to belatedly realize that she was just about to fucking stab you, had he not intervened.

You swallow emptily, feeling yourself shake and all color draining from your face.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch them again, you—you s-sick, depraved—fucking—fucking assholes!” you sobbed, struggling to help your friend up.

Where were all of Taylor’s useless fucking friends to help when they needed them?

You looked around but all you could see were cold stares everywhere you looked. Nobody lifted a finger.

Nobody dared to cross him.

A familiar sound of a deranged giggle cut straight through the silence like a knife. Your eyes shifted to the direction of the sound only to find red irises filled to the brim with unadulterated glee, staring right back at you.

Shigaraki felt something going off in his brain the moment he saw your adorably lost and confused face looking for help.

You’re finally, finally realizing it, aren’t you?

He walked over to you, sinking on one knee and you cursed yourself for wearing this stupid fucking outfit and leaving your pepper spray at home. You consider opting to violence for a second, but one look into his terrifying eyes has you second-guessing yourself long enough that he reaches forward first.

Shigaraki grabs you by your hair and gets up, forcing you to let go of your friend as you were dragged on your feet. Taylor whimpered from somewhere beneath you, but his tense grip wouldn’t allow you to turn your head and look.

You’ve never seen him look like this. He didn’t just look angry, he looked fucking savage.

The speechless crowd and his cruel but amused friends, split and made way for him with you in tow as if it was Moses himself, parting the red fucking sea.

You were too dizzy from the alcohol and the roots in your head burned too hard to be able to tell exactly, but you think you climbed a few stairs, walked a little more and suddenly you were shoved into a room with him right behind you.

Two strangers were caught in the act, but a quick look of recognition over Shigaraki’s form and a short barked order from him were enough for them to fuck off faster than you could yell for help.

He was right. You did finally realize.

You finally realized why everyone was so incredibly terrified of him. Why people whispered behind his back whenever he was around, but cowered if he were to give them a dirty look. Why there were so many insane rumors surrounding him and his shitty friends.

You finally realized that… those weren’t fucking rumors.

Hearing the telltale click of a door locking and seeing him turning to you has your brain beginning to sober up quickly. The only light that was barely illuminating this room came from a yellow colored bedside lamp.

“Let’s talk, hm?”

“You literally said—No, you promised!” you choked out, “You fucking promised you wouldn’t try to hurt me anymore,” you say, sobbing, fat fucking tears rolling down your cheeks, leaving behind dark trails of ruined mascara.

“So I lied. Now answer my fucking questions,” he growls, patience running thin. ”Did you think it was fun, telling me you liked me? Making me run around like some idiot?”

Shigaraki steps forward.

What? When did you ever tell him—

The phone call.

“What the hell are you talking—You! You’re ruining any chances of reconciliation with me, with every fucking second—” your voice cracks, “W-With every second that I’m locked in this fucking room with you, Shigaraki.”

He chooses to ignore you at first, taking another step in your direction.

“That’s fine.” He smiled. “Maybe you were right for once.” His fingers reached the back of his neck, rubbing it thoughtfully and humming as he moved in your direction, more self-assured than you’ve ever seen him be.

“Maybe I am done playing nice.”

“That so? Color me surprised.” You roll your eyes, unable to push your growing anxiety away.

He however doesn’t stop stalking towards you so you begin stepping back, but the back of your knees meet with the edge of someone’s bed.

You glanced behind you nervously.

“S-So what now,” you look back at him and huff. “Gonna rape me? Teach me a lesson?”

He chuckles, amused by your stupid question.

“No,” he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, placing a hand squarely on your sternum and effortlessly shoves you back.

You fall gracelessly on top of the bed, immediately grimacing knowing that someone else’s bare, sweaty ass was exactly where the back of your head now rested.

“Now, we’re going to talk.”

“Yeah? Well you better talk fast, because people—” you stuttered, feeling angry, scared and ashamed, “B-Because people—Because Taylor will call the fucking cops on you.”

And the fucking second you finish babbling your empty threats, you hear the party come alive once again, music blaring and vibrating through however many layers of brick separated you from the main room.

You cursed under your breath.

“Are they now?”

“Shigaraki, stop.”

“You look fucking adorable when you’re scared of me, did you know? Gets me reaaally hard,” he fucking moans as he shamelessly starts palming himself through his jeans. You couldn’t help but glance at his hand anxiously.

The warm dim light made him look nothing short of a beautiful, ethereal monster.

“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t do this to me. Please don’t do this to me,” you chant uselessly as you screwed your wet eyes shut, trying to get away from him as much as possible, but he only reveled at the sound of your desperate pleas.

Yes—fucking yes, at last.

He cracked a wide grin. The only regret on his mind is not doing this to you sooner. It was so much more efficient using terror to break you down and make you his, compared to the previous pathetic attempts at getting you to want to be with him.

He could barely hold back his delight. You were so close.

Shigaraki climbs up your legs, effectively straddling you and patiently observing your reaction.

“I said relax, idiot,” he rasps, but the way he reached his hand out and used his dry, rough knuckles to slowly brush the side of your cheek, did absolutely nothing to help you relax. The touch felt like warm sandpaper and you couldn’t help but squirm under it. “We’re just going to talk.”

His fingers uncurl, exploring the planes of your soft face, the pads running gently over the bridge of your nose all the way to your lips—and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was admiring you by the slightly dazed look in his eyes. The same dazed look he gave that whore.

Shigaraki pushes his index finger into your mouth and you go ahead and bite it hard enough to leave a deep reddened dent. He just smiles and forces a second one in.

“Sho fuhkin’ tawk then,” you mumble around his salty fingers, words coming out funny and making you feel even more humiliated. You placed both of your hands against his firm chest, looking for a semblance of separation from him—any sort of false security.

His sinister smile spread even wider before he leaned in so close to your ear that you could feel his breath fanning against it. “Did you know that you have a lot of weak exploitable points?” he asks, biting his lower lip and pulling back just enough for you to look him in the eyes.

Gone were any traces of his softness from the time before tonight—all replaced by what looked like honest malice and bitter spite towards you.

The only thing you could reply with was a pathetic whimper.

“Your scholarship, the filthy fucking videos of you letting some lowlife scumbag fuck you.” He grimaced while he spat out the second part, but his wicked smile quickly returned to his lips. “Your…past,” Shigaraki says with an upward lilt in his tone, taking his fingers out and resting them on the top of your lips, allowing for your reaction.

“What?! How did you—”

His giggles cut you off. “People talk. You’d be surprised how easily they give me what I want, once they feel threatened,” he tells you, voice dark and foreboding.

You wanted to rebuke him, but the second your mouth opened again, he slipped his spit-covered fingers all the way to the back of your throat, the brusqueness prompting you to gag ugly around them.

Your hands try to reach for his wrist and push it away, but he was stronger and he was faster. He clicks his tongue at your disobedience, using his free grip to grab both of your hands, effortlessly pinning them to the side of your head in an uncomfortably forced position.

Was every time you could push him around just for show? And are you seriously only realizing that now?

Shigaraki waits for your breathing to slow, before he begins tormenting you by pumping his long bony fingers in and out of your mouth in a sickeningly slow manner. The sound of you gagging over and over and the wet sloppy squelches of your mouth were echoing in the room, complemented by the dampened party music and the sounds of his feral breathing.

“Ugh!” You try to get away from him, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Shhh, I’ve seen you take worse. Good girl,” he cooed with his face close to yours, gaze fixated on the way your mouth clung to his fingers. You cringed when you felt him lick a long disgusting stripe from the bottom of your cheek all the way to the source of the trail of bitter tears.

He fucking groans. “See, you could be so good for me, but you always choose to be a mean little bitch instead.”

You shoot him a contempt-filled glare and he just chuckles in return. Shigaraki slips his fingers out of your mouth and wipes your drool against the side of your reddened cheeks in order to further humiliate you.

“Monster,” you croak a whisper and try to look away, but he grabs your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze back on him.

“I thought we already established that?”

You spit in his face, making him flinch.

Catching him off-guard seemed like a privilege today, so you quickly free yourself from his grip the moment his hand was loose enough.

Before he can take that freedom away, you grab his shirt with one hand and your fist flies towards his face using whatever leverage you had in this position.

Now or never.

“You little–!” he growls at you, unfortunately dropping his entire weight on top of your body before your punch could connect, causing you to only be able to uselessly smack the top part of his shoulder.

He slides his arms to grab yours and uses bruising force to render them useless at the sides of your head. “Are you trying to piss me off today?” he barks at you angrily, getting halfway up to shift one of his knees on top of your stomach and pressing his weight into it.

“Urk—” you almost literally vomit from the pressure, but he lets up before you can.

“Are you going to behave now and listen to what I say, or are you going to keep being difficult?”

Difficult? You were being difficult? You’d laugh if this wasn’t quickly going up the ranks as one of the worst nights of your life. Instead, you just roll your eyes, as if you weren’t a quivering mess. As if he wasn’t scaring you.

Shigaraki’s gaze narrows. He thought he was closer to breaking you, but you obviously still had a lot of fight left in you. He supposes you’ve been through worse, so maybe he had to truly outmatch your greatest monsters.

He decided he’ll start easy.

“Answer my question, slut. The next time you don’t answer me, I’ll have to start punishing you,” he grunted but you remained defiantly quiet.

Shigaraki huffed, lifting his knee away from your sensitive stomach, earning him a relieved exhale from you—that quickly turned into alarm the moment he wedged it between your thighs instead, inches away from your cunt.

He smirked at your horrified expression and began pressing it against you experimentally, drawing out a pathetic whimper.

“Oh?” he breathes into your ear, bending his body to press his knee against your core again.

That, unfortunately, wins him another distressed gasp from you.

“Fuuuck,” he groans in response, momentarily forgetting that this was supposed to be your punishment and reminding you just how much of a depraved virgin he really was.

Which gives you an idea.

You close your eyes and softly grind yourself up against his thigh, all while pretending you didn’t want him to notice. It slightly backfires when you start feeling a little hot, your face slightly scrunching up in pleasure.

When you opened your eyes again, Shigaraki looked a little more disheveled than before.

His vindictive demeanor from seconds ago slightly softened.

“I thought you didn’t want to fuck me?” he throws you a playful grin and you snort.

“You call getting myself off on your leg ‘fucking’ you?”

Something dangerous sparked in his red, obsessive eyes, the moment those words left your mouth, sending a jolt through your spine all the way to your core and it made you swallow. Hard.

“Okay,” he resolves, pressing his forehead against yours and chuckling darkly.

“Huh?”

“Go ahead, get yourself off,” Shigaraki offers, putting more pressure against your heat.

You try moving away, glaring at him.

“You’re a fucking freak,” you finally conclude, despite the blush spreading on your cheeks, the growing warmth between your legs and your stupid little plan falling apart.

“What’s wrong? Thought you wanted to get off?” He leaned in looking smugly and his nose brushed yours, breath smelling like cigarettes and gin. You roll your eyes and he’s slightly disappointed that you don’t give him what he wants.

Your gaze falls onto his chapped lips for just a second, but even that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Do you want to kiss me instead?” he whispers tilting his head and his grin spreads.

“In your dreams,” you lie. “Now let go of me.”

“Why, I think you quite like this position.” He lowers his head to the junction between your neck and your shoulder, deeply inhaling your scent like a depraved pervert.

You wouldn’t understand the level of patience he was exerting with you. You probably thought he was incredibly cruel, but he was still holding back.

Burning with the desire to mark you, he let go of one of your arms and slid his hand all the way to your neck, spindly fingers wrapping around it, then squeezing experimentally.

“Why…do you act so—” he tightened his grip some more, making you struggle to breathe the words out, “fu—fuh—cked…up?”

The sight of you made his hard cock twitch in his pants.

“Because I want you,” he admits completely unapologetically, pressing his dry, cracked lips to the side of your neck and kissing it softly. The rough texture in contrast to the odd gentleness of the kiss made you shiver. “—and I’ve decided that I’m gonna have you.”

The audacity makes you burst into hysterical laughter, but he immediately cuts off your airway using the hand that still rested on your neck, making you gasp soundlessly.

“Is it that funny?” His teeth graze the sensitive skin on your neck. “Did you fuck Spinner?” Shigaraki growls at you suddenly and forgets you can’t breathe. Only when your body starts convulsing slightly from the tight grip, does he let up.

“Who?” you coughed.

“Don’t act stupid now,” he hisses, “The fucking nerd with long purple hair.”

“Oh, him?” You grinned angrily, taunting him, “That’s too bad, because it’s really none of your business.”

—was the wrong thing to say apparently, because he punches the bed with brutal force right next to your head, making you yelp.

“Fucking, ANSWER ME!” he screams and you flinch again.

“N-No, you asshole. I didn’t fuck any your friends, fuck.” you whisper submissively, feeling a familiar burn in your chest.

“Then why—!” he chokes, his face remaining partially hidden from behind his white hair, as you were staring at the ceiling with a fresh round of tears brimming in your eyes.

Shigaraki slowly sits up to look down at you and your gaze follows him as his whole body weight finally lifts from you. On your neck, he could see the faint red outline of his hand. His handprint.

His gaze hardens, going back to his stiff, unemotional self.

“It doesn’t matter,” he resolves in a tone so cold, it sends another chill down your spine.

“W-What do you mean?”

“I mean, that starting tonight you’ll become my bitch.” He pushes himself off of the bed, fixing his clothes and you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. “You’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do, and if you don’t—” He smirked sadistically before he continued, “I’ll just destroy everything you’ve ever held dear.” Shigaraki says, patting down his arms and his clothes as if to dust your filthy presence off.

You lie motionless at first until the words finally register into your alcohol addled brain. Sitting up, your face contorts in anger and you go off.

“You’re absolutely fucking nuts if you think—”

A sharp crack echoed in the room and judging by the position of your head, you realize Shigaraki had hit you across the face. Hard.

You don’t hold back the violent sobs that escape you. It really fucking hurts.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” he growled, grabbing you by the roots of your hair and turning your head to him. His jaw was clenched tight. “You’re a pathetic, self-destructive, little, fucking whore,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “And you should’ve taken the chance to kill yourself right after I showed your cute little ass to everyone. But do you know what?” You felt the warmth of his breath brushing over your cheek.

“Now you belong to me. So go ahead and try blowing your brains out, because not only will I make true on everything I told you, but your precious little friend, your coworkers, your boss—even your fucking therapist will regret the day you were fucking born.”

“No…” your breath came out as shaky, and the following words that came out of his mouth completely shattered you.

“Just like your mommy did. That’s why she killed your brother and shot herself up with heroin until she fucking died too. Just like your brother always will, from under his cozy little grav–”

You remember a loud howl but you don’t remember how you landed in the middle of the street, shoes and your jacket long forgotten.

You don’t remember how long you’ve been walking for, or where you were right now.

You don’t remember, you can’t stop trembling or crying hysterically and you don’t know what to do.

You don’t know what to do.

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

— NEW MESSAGES —

Psycho – i’m nice to my toys so i’ll look past your little tantrum this time [Sent 2:34 AM]

Psycho – you better show 2 class tmr otherwise i promise u really won’t like what will happen if you dont. [Sent 2:35 AM]

Psycho – sweet dreams :) [Sent 2:35 AM]

It was game over.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x y/n #emotional hurt/comfort #shigaraki tomura #unhealthy relationships #dead dove do not eat #trigger warnings #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #college au #reader is female #tomura shigaraki x reader

[airi-p4]

✨Fairy Misunderstood AU - Chapter Guide  🧚🏼‍♀️✨

Hi! I made this chapter guide to make it easier to follow my Fairy Misunderstood AU. I’ll update this as I post new chapters. I hope it helps 💙  

*Available on AO3 *

*NEW*: Now available on WEBTOON too!!

________________________________

Introduction: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

First meeting: Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Rock’n’roll: Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | BONUS (14) | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

Juleka: Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | BONUS (24) | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31

Warmth: Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | BONUS (55) | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61  

New arc: Coming on April 2024 (?)

...

...

Other comics: Snow || Rain || Pink || Missing him || Hiding spots || Cookie box  

Special comics with Luka’s classmate OC Mike:  Sneeze ||  Broken Disguise || Project Partner || Cursed boy 1 || Cursed boy 2 || Cursed boy 3 || Cursed boy 4 || Cursed boy 5 || Cursed boy 6 || 

Special comics: Halloween || Pocky Day || Xmas knit (Christmas special) || Merry Christmas 2022 || Happy New Year || Happy New Year 2023 (Fairy Marinette pic) || April Fools’ Day 2023 || Fairy AU 1st Year Anniversary || Merry Christmas 2023 || Merry Christmas 2023 (full version) || Happy New Year 2024 

How to fairy series: How to hold Fairy Marinette (+Part 2) || How to hold tiny Luka || How to feed Fairy Marinette (Part 1) (Part 2) | Fairy checkup | Fairy checkup 2 | 

Other fairy art: Luka lost Marinette in flowers || Summer 2023 hiatus || Angel (for LCAM 7 days of Luka’s Christmas week 2023) || winter 2024 hiatus  | Valentine’s Day 2024 | 

Fairy AU stories by me: Style 

Collab/art by op:

@lukascafe ( @lllluka ) : - Pouty Fairy Marinette - Lukascafe Luka in Fairy Misunderstood AU

@blueberry-macaron : - Fairy Marinette with her adorable expressions  - Fairy Marinette and Luka having a date  

@ladyfreya123 :  - Luka holding Fairy Marinette on his hands - Marinette sleeping on Luka - Birthday present 2024 (art)

@verfound : - Fairy Marinette + Dingo

@/avramea01 (Instagram): - Clueless Luka + protective Marinette - Chocolate fairy

@/Jessica6697 (Twitter) @/Jessica.y.e.s (Instagram): - Marinette teaching Luka how to knit || (IG post)

Fics/stories written by op:

knitting fever by @fragileizy​ (AO3)

El hada y su humano by Natsumi Niikura (Fanfiction.net)

Incorrect quote by @blueberry-macaron 

Marinette searches for Luka in the snow by @generalluxun

💙💖✨

Thank you for reading! 

#fairy misunderstood #fairy misunderstood AU #airiP4 #lukanette #Pro LukaMari #my AU guide #Fairy Misunderstood AU chapter guide #G/t fluff #G/t #Giant tiny

[canonicallyobserving911]

WIP Wednesday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 20 is already available on AO3 and Chapter 21 will be posted soon.

Currently 20 chapters completed: 757.3K Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

[Previous snippet from Several Sentences Sunday linked here.]

____________

I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 21 because there are only 7 days left until Buck and Eddie get married.

For anyone who hasn't read Chapter 20, here's a brief overview: Eddie completed his Paramedic Certification Course and he started planning a surprise for their wedding evening, night and the morning after. Buck asked his bio dad if they could meet in-person while they're in London. Eddie and Buck had an important early morning conversation about the way they'll make decisions for their family. They went to the Italian Consulate in Los Angeles with their two witnesses and now they have all the legalized documents they'll need to get married in Rome. Also, they tied up a lot of loose ends by verifying their 'To Do' Lists along with reviewing all of their documents.

Buck and Eddie will tie the knot before Christmas 2023 but they are NOT getting married in the U.S. and they won't have a wedding ceremony until May 2024. They've revealed their relationship, their engagement and the fact that they're going to Europe to their found family during the 118's Thanksgiving dinner (Chapter 17), to Eddie's parents, his sisters, his abuela and Tia Pepa (Chapter 18) and Buck told the Buckley parents he's getting married and that he has a son (Chapter 19). Only three people know they're getting married in 7 days and they are Chris, Carla and Malone. They told Carla and Malone (Chapter 19) because they asked them to be their witnesses at the Italian Consulate and they told Chris (Chapter 20) that evening after they got the "Atto Notorio" (Declaration) signed but no one else knows.

Now that Buck and Eddie have their signed Declaration and everything else is in place, will they be able to leave Los Angeles Friday afternoon headed to Rome, Italy without anyone else finding out they're getting married in Chapter 21?

___________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 21 of Buck and Eddie being romantically fluffy and intimate while they're in the loft for the last time.

__________

While he positions Eddie so that he’s standing in the same spot he stood in that night, Eddie raises his eyebrows at him but he doesn’t say anything.  Even as Buck attempts to recreate one of their emotionally intimate encounters, he notices they’re still in sync because Eddie automatically leans his back against the counter like he knows what’s going to happen next.

Buck shakes his head because other than the fact that the loft is completely empty now and they’re both a few years older, Eddie’s even more beautiful than he was back then.  The only major difference between that night and now in Eddie’s appearance is he’s not wearing his hair buzzed cut anymore.   

He leans against the edge of the island that’s directly in front of him and situates himself so that he’s in the same half standing and half sitting position he was in all those years ago.  He lowers his head, smiles then lifts it and gives Eddie the same cocky and confident grin he wore back then and it’s laced with a challenge just like it was that night in November 2019.

He knows he’s playing with fire but he’s ok with it because they’re engaged now, they’re getting married in 4 days and he’s 100% certain any challenge he presents in this moment, will be fulfilled on their wedding night.

Eddie tilts his head to the side and in a playful tone of voice, he asks, “My love, what are you doing?”

With a coy smile, Buck replies, “Surely you remember everything that happened the night after the lawsuit.  You know… it was right after Halloween.  We made up and I apologized for not being there for you and Chris.”

He fondly rolls his eyes like he doesn’t remember but the truth is he does except he doesn’t want Buck to know, so he questioningly raises one of his eyebrows and waits for him to continue.

“You were standing right there… um exactly where you are right now and you were holding your bottle of Genuine beer.  I was right here and while we were talking, I said, “I thought for sure that day in the grocery store you were going to take a swing at me.”  And then you said, “But you didn’t deserve it.  I wouldn’t do that… you’re on blood thinners.”

Eddie slowly nods, then he gives Buck a once over like he did that night as he looks at him from his feet to his head and replies, “I do and if I’m remembering correctly, I think you said something about taking me”.

Buck raises his eyebrows.  “You’re right… I did say that.  And I know I still can… take you that is.”

With a big devious smile, Eddie asks, “You still think so?”

“I knew then and I know now!”  He admits, then he stands up to his full 6’2-inch height, strolls over and stands next to his fiancé, looks him up and down with his hand where his belt buckle would be if he was wearing one and asks, “You want to go for the title?”

Eddie confidently chuckles but he doesn’t take his eyes off his fiancé. He raises up from the counter, moves so close to him that their lips are mere millimeters apart, he wraps his arms around Buck’s waist then he leans in and places a soft kiss onto Buck’s lips that makes Buck shiver.  He wants to feel him do it again, so he kisses him once more then he talks against his lips and says, “On September 2nd, I won something more valuable than the title to that video game.”

Buck already knows the answer to the question he’s going to ask and even though he’s breathless from simply looking at the love of his life, he whisper asks, “Oh yeah… what did you win?”

What did Eddie win on September 2nd and how is he going to respond to Buck's question? 👀

___________

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be spectacular.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-20 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 21 will be posted soon.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #The Diaz Family #buddie fanfic #911 fanfic #ao3 fanfic #WIP Wednesday #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading #911 on abc #911 abc #911 season 7 speculation #Chapter 21 will be posted soon #“I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!” #buddie wip

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 24 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, my sweet.

Word Count: 4,380

Act III, Chapter 3 - The Torment

The next morning started off like any other. However, you were surprised when Wyll, Karlach, and Jaheira came back in the late afternoon with a tall, muscular, and bald man with a small rodent on his shoulder. Karlach and Wyll were following the other two with expressions of awe.

I wonder if he’s an associate of Jaheira’s… that would explain why Karlach and Wyll are fawning so hard.

The man saw you and grinned broadly, waving cheerfully at you. Your seal pulsed strongly in return.

Who exactly is this man?

Coming up to the group, you smiled warmly. “Welcome back, everyone. Who’s our new friend?”

“I am Minsc!” Then he held out his hand for the little rodent to hop onto his palm and held him out to you. “And this is Boo, the mighty miniature giant space hamster.”

When the hamster looked at you, your seal pulsed again, sending heat waves through your blood. You looked back up at Minsc, and the power ebbed away.

What. No way. It was the hamster that is the powerful one here?

Boo chittered, and while everyone else was looking at the creature, you noticed that Minsc was listening intently as if he understood every little squeak.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he mumbled. Then he gingerly brought Boo back to his shoulder. “Boo is looking forward to sampling your fine dishes and to hear your singing. Karlach and Wyll have been praising your talents!”

You blinked. “Um, alright, I’ll do my best,” you said, directing your reply to the little hamster. Looking into its eyes, you suspected you saw understanding, and even more, satisfaction.

Welp, that was strange.

You learned from the others that the underground guild in the city and Jaheira had made a deal: she got help finding Minsc, and in exchange, they had chased the Zhentarim out of the city. You breathed a sigh of relief.

So I didn’t need to worry about them after all. Thank the gods. Or rather, thank Jaheira.

Karlach patted your back. “I’m relieved. One crime group is enough for this city, hah!”

You laughed, hiding your nerves. “Yup, good riddance.” And now they’ll never know.

Leading the others to the campfire, you served them some drinks and some snacks and listened to them regaling you with their adventure, which had taken them all across the city, even to the deepest bank vaults. They had even found Mol and a couple other tiefling children in the Guild, running their business, and doing quite well for themselves.

“Oh good, I’d like to go back to the other tiefling children and let them know Mol is safe,” you said.

“I can do it,” Karlach said with a smile. “I’m sure Wyll would want to see them again too.”

Wyll nodded, and you caught his soft look as he watched Karlach.

Oh ho, his love grows.

After their story, you rooted around through the pile of loot for any extra bedrolls or fabric to make a tent for the newcomer. Just as you had managed to find enough rags to weave together, you heard the alarm bells on your belt chime softly.

Turning toward the entrance, the others had arrived looking a bit worn out. As they joined the group at the campfire, Shadowheart relayed what had happened.

“We literally went to hell and back. But now Lae’zel has a way to free Orpheus.”

The githyanki nodded with a slight smirk. Oh, she’s quite pleased.

“And we may have a change of accommodations,” Gale said. “The Elfsong has an upper floor penthouse available if we wish to use it, for a discounted fee.”

“Are there enough beds for everyone?” you asked, sweeping your hand towards everyone, including Shadowheart’s parents, Isobel, and Aylin, who were hanging back, listening in.

“Plenty of beds,” Gale replied.

“And why the discount?” you questioned. Inns don’t give discounts unless…

“There might have been a murder on that floor, and that might be scaring off the guests.”

Everyone looked at Gale.

“Look, just because one person died there doesn’t mean we should stay out in the open for the remainder of our time here.”

After some thought, the group began to mumble agreement.

Wait. Then that means…

“So you won’t be needing me any further,” you quietly said.

All eyes turned to you.

“Well, of course we need you, darling.” Astarion walked up to you and patted your head. “You still have to feed me.” He gestured towards everyone else. “And these fools couldn’t clean worth a damn.”

You glanced at everyone else, who were mostly shrugging sheepishly.

“And who’s going to take care of the giant pile of souvenirs that Karlach and Astarion keep pilfering?” Wyll joked.

“Some of those are from you too!” Karlach shot back, lightly shoving Wyll, who only laughed.

“The point is, you’re part of the team,” Gale said softly. “We need you just as much as anyone else.”

You turned back to Astarion, who nodded and took your hand, holding it gently, his thumb rubbing circles over your knuckles. Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “Besides, you promised you would stay with me, didn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Good girl,” he murmured before pulling back. Turning to everyone else, he shot them all a triumphant grin. “So, shall we upgrade our accommodations?”

***

By the time you all had finished packing and moving everyone’s things out of the harbor and to the Elfsong, the sun had just dipped below the horizon. Yet the tavern was already loud and lively, full of music and drinkers. Gale went to the front desk and paid for the new lodgings, holding up a key triumphantly to everyone before leading the group upstairs.

“Probably best if I keep a low profile. They used to know me all too well in here,” Astarion muttered to you as he helped take the packs up the stairs, attempting to blend in with the others. You watched his back as he went up the stairs, walking closely to the floating disc as it hovered behind Gale. Your eyes wandered down the line of Astarion’s body, down his back, his hips, his—

Gods, what am I doing?

You shook your head and re-focused on the back of his head, but he had already caught you staring, as he looked back at you with a knowing smirk.

“Admire all you like, darling.”

You immediately looked away and huffed.

His sly grin stayed on his face throughout the rest of the unpacking.

***

Since you didn’t need to cast warming cantrips any longer, you could spend your time sorting the loot pile and going out to the market to sell whatever you could, and buying fresh groceries. You were actually excited to see what kind of fresh vegetables and herbs you could get, now that you were in a large city.

“You’re sounding happy,” Shadowheart said as she approached, kneeling down next to you while you polished some of the tarnished jewelry with a rag.

You stopped humming and smiled up at her. “Well, I can finally catch up on some inventory management,” you said, pointing at the rather large pile of knick knacks and herbs. “You lot seem to have sticky fingers.”

“It’s how I grew up,” Karlach said as she joined the two of you, sitting cross legged on the other side of you. “Take everything of value and sort it out later for pocket change.”

You nodded. “That’s fair. I just haven’t had much of a chance to go through it all lately, and it seems like everyday you come back with more.”

Gale suddenly came up and tapped Shadowheart’s shoulder. With one look, her eyebrows furrowed and she got up. 

“We’re going to plan our next trip into the Undercity. We’ll probably need to split up if we want to stop the murders and find where Orin is hiding.”

You nodded and watched as everyone gathered around the table in the main sitting room on the upper level. Remaining in the lower area near the fireplace, you continued to sort through everything, catching bits and pieces of their conversation.

“...have to find where the Bhaalspawn…”

“...Orin’s base might be…”

You finished sorting what you could, and pulled together all the random coins you had found. There was a significant amount, so you didn’t feel bad about ordering room service tonight.

“I’m going downstairs to order us a meal to be brought up, are there any requests?”

***

As you came downstairs with a long piece of paper full of meal requests, you ran into a familiar face.

“Lakrissa!” you said with a bright smile.

She called your name excitedly and gave you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a room upstairs, at a discounted rate.”

“Oh, the murder room. Well, I suppose that wouldn’t bother your group much, would it?”

You laughed. “Nope, not after what they’ve seen. Oh, I need to put their supper order in.”

Lakrissa smiled and took your order for you, telling you to wait by the stairs for her while she gave it to the kitchen. When she returned, she gave you a wide grin.

“Follow me,” she said quietly as she nodded toward the back staircase. 

She snuck you up to the rooftop, where you heard a soft lute and a familiar voice.

You smiled, afraid to stop Alfira’s singing. She was swaying softly to her song, her back to you and Lakrissa, the gibbous moon shining brightly above her head. The two of you enjoyed her song until the end, applauding her just as she turned around.

The bard smiled, pleasantly surprised to see you. You hugged, and the three of you caught up on each other’s lives since the Last Light Inn.

“Would you join me for a song?” Alfira asked. “If you have time, that is.”

You turned to Lakrissa. She nodded. “You’ll have time. With the amount of orders you put in, you could sing out here for a half hour and it wouldn’t be done.”

The two of you figured out a song you both knew, and while she played and sang harmony, you took the lead, letting your voice carry on the rooftop, and letting the tingling feeling on your spine travel through your body, through your lungs, through your throat. You felt almost as if you could layer your voice if you pushed your power through yourself hard enough.

On the last lyric, you let your vibrato go longer and harder than you ever had, leaving just enough breath to end the song on a delicate sigh.

A raucous applause startled you, and you turned to see all of your companions standing behind Lakrissa, who was wearing a sly grin.

“You cheeky woman!” Alfira said to her as Lakrissa came up and placed her hand on the small of her back.

You were distracted from their cute banter by everyone else’s compliments. You shyly bowed.

“Boo says that was a most wonderful performance, rivaling the great opera singers from Waterdeep!”

You flinched involuntarily at the mention of Waterdeep, but you acted as if you didn’t. “You’re too kind,” you said with a smile. 

Lakrissa tapped your shoulder. “I can go check if your food is ready, but would you all want to eat up here? It’s a beautiful moonlit night!”

You turned to everyone else, who seemed to be enjoying themselves, catching up with Alfira and admiring the view.

“That sounds lovely.”

As she went downstairs, you spotted some tables and chairs scattered around the rooftop and had an idea. You took a deep breath and began to hum, walking to the furniture and tapping them lightly. As if they suddenly gained sentience, they hopped and began to follow you, arranging themselves into a nice group formation.

Everyone had gone silent, watching you work. You paid them no mind, singing a song about faerie lights, touching the leaves and vines around the area, making them glow orange and pink and purple. Lost in the sensation of the magic and the music flowing through your body, you spun around and swayed your arms, letting the lights glow brighter as your power pulsed against your skin.

Suddenly Astarion was standing next to you, his hand on the small of your back, pressing on your seal. He kissed your cheek and pulled you close, interrupting your song.

“I couldn’t help myself darling,” he said a bit too loudly as he dragged you away from everyone else. Karlach tried to peek, but Shadowheart shooed her and the other onlookers back to the tables to wait for their food.

Away from the crowd, Astarion whispered into your ear. “Your seal was glowing brightly through your clothes.” His hand pressed harder against your back. “Be careful.”

You looked up at him, surprised at his look of concern. “Oh. Thank you,” you murmured. It didn’t feel like burning this time, though. It felt… powerful. 

He guided you back to the tables just in time for Lakrissa and another worker to bring the trays of food for everyone. Using your party as an excuse, she stayed behind and ate with you, along with Alfira, who entertained you all with music through the rest of dinner.

It was a wonderful evening, and you treasured it.

***

The next morning, the others left, but came back within an hour to talk to Dame Aylin. You overheard something about a tower and a wizard who had put a price on her head, and she immediately charged out the doors. Isobel followed the group out to follow her.

You turned to Shadowheart’s parents. “Erm, well, I was about to go out and get groceries. I should be back soon.”

They nodded and told you that they would let the others know if they came back before you did.

Out in the city, you felt relatively safe, anonymous in the large crowds. You walked over to a jeweler and bartered away some of the found gems and trinkets for a great price, adding to your coin pouch. Heading down to the marketplace, you managed to get an excellent cut of venison from the butcher and some fresh herbs and vegetables. Holding the bag in your arms, you headed back to the Elfsong.

Halfway there, your seal pulsed. You immediately looked around.

A man, with a patch over his eye and a large sword at his side, scratched his arm, his sleeve lifting up to reveal a tattoo of a legless dragon in flight. It was a tattoo you recognized with ease.

A Zhent!

You quickly began to walk away, turning a corner beyond the Elfsong, unwilling to make the mistake of leading someone straight to your home base. Instead, you walked through the graveyard, then past the tombmaker’s shop. Just as you were rounding the corner to make a loop back home, you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

Turning around, you were met with Gale, smiling and waving his hand to you.

“Can you follow me for a moment? I have something to show you,” he said, gesturing for you to follow.

Your seal pulsed with a stinging heat.

“Um, let me put these groceries away first.”

“We haven’t the time,” he insisted, coming closer to you.

Gale would have offered to carry my groceries for me by now. This isn’t him! 

Without another word, you turned to run.

The doppelganger grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled hard, choking you. Dropping your bag of groceries, you pulled at your collar, trying to get some air, but they were strong. One arm wrapped around your mouth.

“You’ve got wits, but no power. Pity,” a woman’s voice hissed in your ear.

You felt a sharp pain to your temple, and then you felt nothing at all as everything went black.

***

Astarion and the others returned to their room in the Elfsong, ready for a long rest. Upon entering the room, however, he smelled something distinctly… vile.

“Welcome back,” said the creature posing as his hearth witch. Though she looked like her, she definitely didn’t sound like her. The soothing warm tone of her voice could not be replicated by any other.

“You’re not her.” Astarion glared at the shapeshifter, disgusted that she would take the form of his beloved.

Orin pouted. “How could you tell so quickly?”

“I could smell your stench a mile away.”

Everyone looked on in horror as a crazed, maniacal grin grew on their hearth witch’s face. And when she twisted back to her usual form, everyone felt a fear and anger that they could not swallow down.

“If you want your precious friend, then kill Gortash for me and bring me his netherstone.” She disappeared in a burst of pink petals, her insane laughter bleeding away.

Astarion could barely contain his rage. “We don’t have time, we have to find her now,” he snarled.

The others agreed. 

“Don’t worry Astarion, we’ll find her,” Wyll said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Orin won’t get away with this.”

He nodded as he tried to keep a level head. But it was so, so hard.

If Orin touches her… she’ll feel her madness. She’ll feel everything.

***

You woke up to a world of pain, your entire body feeling as if it was on fire. You shifted and gasped in agony.

Then your memories of the last 24 hours returned, and you nearly vomited. You had so, so many cuts across your body. Your clothes had been sliced to shreds, and your skin along with it.

The crazed cackle of your captor drew your attention. Orin licked her knife with glee. “Your blood is the sweetest,” she murmured. 

And then she wrapped her hand around your neck. You let out a hoarse cry of agony as her madness seeped into you. No amount of mental guarding could keep out the intensity of her insanity.

c̵̝̽u̵̩͌t̵͇͛ ̷̗̕c̵͉͌ṵ̵͝t̴̝̓ ̵̫͋m̸͙̚a̶̧̾i̴͈͋m̴̱̀ ̷̳̔m̸͇͛a̸̢͝i̸̗͗m̴͎͝ ̴̡̒m̷͍̈́ṵ̶͗r̵̝̾d̷̜̄e̸̤͋r̵̹͝ ̷̮̓m̸̳̊ủ̵͚r̸̖͑d̷͈̿e̴̞̐r̸̻͋k̶̜̋i̷̪͊l̶̝̔l̸͚̀k̴̫̃i̶͈̓l̴͇̀ĺ̶͙K̴͉̍Ȋ̶͜L̸͈͛L̵̫͌ ̴̢̀K̸̯̈I̸͍̿L̸̘̍Ľ̶̪ ̶̘̈K̴͇͘I̴̬͐L̶͚̀L̶̤̓—̸̟̀ ̵͉̏

You squeezed your eyes shut to drown out the voices in your head.

“Who knew you would be so sensitive to just my mere touch! Such a delight to torture.”

You could barely hear her words beyond the pounding of blood in your ears. Is this what she constantly felt? Wave after wave of darkness, followed by an alternating current of rage, a frenzied, frenetic need to hurt, to kill. 

It was so dissonant from your usual emotions that you were having a physical reaction. Your blood pumped harder, spilling more from your wounds. You were weakening, your limbs feeling heavier with each passing moment.

“Let go of me!” you cried, your hands wet with your blood as you tugged weakly at Orin's arm. 

She only laughed. “Why should I? Your agony is the sweetest candy on my tongue.” Grabbing your wrist and twisting it painfully, she brought the inside of your arm to her mouth. While she stared at you with her crazed glare, she licked your blood, savoring it, smearing it all over her lips. 

“No!” You shrieked, trying to jerk your arm away. It was a useless endeavor; she was far stronger than you could ever be. “That blood is not for you!” 

You tugged harder, the blood making your skin slippery. Her grip tightened until you felt your bones begin to yield, the pain making you keen. 

“You make the most lovely sounds when in pain,” she murmured, letting go of your wrist and your throat. Placing the tip of her knife at your collarbone, she grinned maniacally. The sharp tip pierced your skin, the slow, burning sting making you whimper in pain. 

“Let me hear you sing in agony once more—“

“My lady!” 

Orin immediately grabbed the servant by the throat. “How. Dare. You. Interrupt me!” 

“There…. are… intruders…” the servant gurgled.

You looked up, grateful for any distraction that kept Orin’s knife away from your collarbone. In the distance, you could see your companions as they charged down the stairs. A sense of relief flooded you. 

Your friends. They were here. Thank the gods. 

All of the stress and the injuries suddenly overwhelmed you, and your vision blurred. Did Orin just transform into a beastly creature? The party threw themselves into the fray, fighting off the other cultists while Karlach and Lae'zel focused on Orin. 

The last thing you saw was Astarion rushing past the beast towards you, calling out your name. 

***

It had been a hell of a battle, and Astarion barely remembered it. Once he had secured his beloved in a safe corner, he had lashed out, stabbing Orin until she screamed in agony. Then he sprinted back, picked up his little hearth witch in his arms and brought her to Shadowheart, who immediately healed her wounds. Her clothes were shredded to tatters, and even after her wounds had closed, she was still out cold.

“She may be mentally overwhelmed,” Shadowheart said.

He only nodded before setting off at a hurried pace to get back to the Elfsong, cradling her closely.

After they got out of the Undercity, she finally spoke to him again. “I'm surprised by how far you've come, Astarion. I didn't think you'd ever care so deeply about anyone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied carefully. “But she managed to weasel her way in.”

“It's funny how the little things do so much. A warm meal, a soft touch, a gentle smile. She's brought us all out of our shells, made us feel safe.”

“Yes…” He looked down at his love. “She feels like home.”

Shadowheart didn’t miss the softness in his eyes as he spoke, gazing at his witch.

***

“Seems strange, doesn't it?” Shadowheart mused while she sat with the other around the communal table, snacking on some cheese. 

“Well, they're lovers now, right? I wouldn't let anyone touch you either.”

Shadowheart frowned, even though she felt a bit tickled by Gale's protective comment. “That's fair. But he barely let me finish healing her before snatching her away.”

Gale shrugged. “Some people go a little crazy when they fall in love. I certainly don't blame him for acting this way. She's been kidnapped twice now, right under our noses.”

Nodding, Shadowheart grew quiet for a moment. “What do you think he meant when he said her skin was sensitive?”

Karlach suddenly lifted her head. “I asked her about why she wore gloves all the time and she said it was a secret. Maybe she just has super sensitive skin!” 

The others just accepted that conclusion and moved on to other topics, but Shadowheart kept chewing on the thought.

What if…?

***

You regained consciousness as Astarion was lifting you in his arms. You felt his worry for you through your bare skin before you realized that he had taken his shirt off, and you were fully naked.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“We rescued you,” he answered, his voice soft. “And now I’m giving you a bath. You’re covered in blood.”

“Oh.”

Astarion slowly lowered you into the tub, the water immediately turning red as the dried blood on your skin was washed away. The warmth was soothing against your freshly healed body and you started to relax. But the moment Astarion let go of you, the pain from before came rolling back. When Orin had held you down, her madness had borne down on you, unrelenting, and it returned now in ripples of mania.

You struggled to stay alert, but you could feel your mind slowly dissociating. Your consciousness faded as you battled the memories. 

b̸̫̅͆ͅl̴̛̼̳̎ǒ̶̭́͜o̵̢̔ḋ̵̘̈́ ̷̢̬͌͘b̸̮͖̔l̸̙̬͘o̷͕̩̿̊o̸̬̐d̶̛͉ ̷̙̰̔c̷̢̩̈́ų̵̰͝t̶̖̲͆̿ ̷̭̬͝c̴̬̙̃u̴̱͋́t̶͆̆ͅ

“Darling?” 

s̷̖̍l̵͕͋i̵̗͒̾c̴̻̫̔̀ē̶̝ ̴͉͝͝s̵̝̋̅l̸̠̏́i̴̳̚c̷͚̎̒e̸̜̜̒ ̵̹͂̎ͅh̵̤̋̐ư̶̥͌r̵̖͚̆t̶̡̬̋ ̸̤͓̌h̵̗͑̓ų̵̙̾͊r̸͖̍̀t̶̼̎͘ ̸̙̐̍m̷͈͝a̷̘͎͗̊i̵̩̦̊̌m̷̳̗̿̈ ̵̞̂m̶͚͍͒͠a̵̠͚̚i̴̭͋̏m̶̹͖͊̓

Suddenly your mind went blank as Astarion pulled you out of the tub and into his embrace. You wanted to chide him about getting his pants dirty with the bloody water, that you were naked, that this was wholly inappropriate… 

But when you felt the overwhelming feeling of love and protection around you, it silenced everything else. The echoes of Orin's insanity, the screams of your own mental state, everything. 

All you felt was Astarion's love for you, and it brought you back to the present. 

And you cried. 

“I've got you, my sweet. I've got you,” he murmured as you shook uncontrollably.

“I hate this!” you cried. “I…I'm weak. I'm helpless. I didn't… I didn't want to be a burden!”

Astarion hushed you gently, nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. “What's that irritating thing that Gale always says about burdens?”

It took you a moment to remember. “A burden shared is a burden halved?” 

“Yes. That.” He guided your chin up to look at him. “We both have our share of burdens. I accept yours, just as you accepted mine.”

“So you can say nice things,” you teased through your tears. “You won't abandon me?” you asked quietly. 

“You're the heart I thought I had lost,” he quietly confessed. “So don't even think for a moment that I'd ever let you go.” He held you tighter. “You're mine, burdens and all.”

He coaxed you back into the tub, and kept at least one hand on your skin as he helped you get clean. While you knew you were healed, you sometimes saw the cuts that Orin had inflicted as an afterimage on your skin. You had to shake your head and force the vision away from your mind.

While you were fighting the demons in your head, Astarion bathed you, dried you off, and took you to bed, wrapping you up in his arms, against his bare chest. 

“Will you be alright?” he asked softly, his gaze full of concern.

You took a deep breath. Would you? Orin did a hell of a number on you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and you had seen some strange things in Waterdeep. Hells, you had faced a vampire lord and survived.

And yet…

“I’ll be alright,” you finally said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I really will,” you insisted. “It may take some time, but you’ll be here to help, won’t you?”

His eyes softened. “Of course, darling.”

It wasn’t until you were mostly asleep that you realized that you were still naked, skin against skin with Astarion.

And yet, it was the most comfortable you had ever been with him, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

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

Act III, Chapter 3 End notes: Sorry for the lateness, had to work double digit hours every day this week at work, but finally got some time to edit and post this chapter! I’m really leaning into that hurt/comfort trope here and I regret nothing. But I think this will be about as much as I can write in terms of injuries, because honestly, our dear little witch needs to catch a break.

Also a bit of behind the scenes here: I absolutely killed that Zhentarim plotline, because it wasn’t working for me and it does get conveniently taken care of by Jaheira in the game. And I was thinking that HW was being a bit paranoid; she hasn’t seen a Zhent in years since the last time she was in the Gate. Also, the masked lord has basically forgotten about her, but she doesn’t know that.

Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Tags List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x f!reader #baldur's gate 3 #writing #bg3 fanfic #female reader #bg3 spoilers #your hearth is my home #cw: blood #cw: injury

[hexonthepeach]

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 20: clinical

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [19: burial]

wc: 6k

chapter warnings:  gross misuse of medical terminology (don't correct me, taeil is just tired) and some smut under the pretense of medical care (pelvic massage), mentions of vomiting

recommended listening: love is a beauty - nct 127

Moon Taeil [Nyctereutes procyonoides α] - magna cum lauda Imperial Academy of Medicine Physician, 2nd rank

>>> patient 1 recovering, expected rate for non-developed hybrid form Felid. sustained fx, inj. are as follows: >>>> gross injury to levator scapulae, supraspinatus, teres major and minor >>>> humerus luxation treated with closed reduction w/o sx intervention, possible crush injury to humeral head, imaging negative  >>>> clavicle and scapula injuries healing w/o sx fixation, blood flow to right arm inhibited by subclavian artery and thyrocervical branch closure, recommend amputation if unable to restore bloodflow to lower extremities >>>> wounds to scalp from forcible claw damage, penetrating, inc. possible puncture of sphenoid bone. temporal skull fissures healing without leakage, no artificial grafts available for outer ear, treated with amputation of dead tissue and cauterization >>>> platelet levels depleted, multiple donations made including from known genetic rejection variants >>>> sx intervention to insure subclavian artery reformation, rapidity of healing within 2-3 hours. may be grafts, or donated plasma. a full genetic spectrum analysis is rendering, delayed by recombination, captured >>>> abn variant detected on scan, will need confirm by biopsy if deep tissue or contam. suspect contam, due to multiple sx performed under non-sterile non-quarantine procedures. patient 0 is recovering from sternum, mult. rib fx from chest compressions, deep tissue calcaneal tendon refixture, performed with local anesthetics only, report to follow

To say Taeil is exhausted is an understatement. Spiritually, emotionally, and especially physically–he feels much older than his age.

When he's caught a break to shower he's scrubbed blood off that’s no longer there, still smelling and feeling it's tacky, flaking texture on his skin. The last time he's truly slept was when he’d shoved your dose of ketamine into his cephalic vein, woken up to a nightmare that hopefully, mostly, has come to an end.

Performing surgeries better suited to specialists with one amateur combat medic and a decades-old TraumaTeam surgical bot wasn’t easy, but he's managed it. It was the only solution while in lockdown. Yuta had clapped him on the shoulder with his forearm after they’d performed the first round of Mark's intervention, blood smeared on the Felid's face from wiping sweat and hair from his forehead.

"Just like the old days," he'd said, smiling ruefully. Battlefield humor never ceased in Nyctos, not for the old guard.

It hadn't been as funny when they'd been tasked with treating Jaehyun, or you. 

Now that he could feel you, knew you, he understood how much you'd kept locked away. It penetrated past every defense he'd trained into as a war medic, as a physician treating young and old, alike.

For the first time in a decade of being a physician he'd heaved up the non-existent contents of his stomach. If it weren't for an IV after that, and maybe a careful injection of sedation and caffeine, he wouldn't still be standing.

But he had to be, for his most important patient.

Mark's recovery had begun without the accelerated genetics of a fully designated hybrid. From what Taeil knew of Mark’s childhood he’d received twice as much anti-shift therapy as someone like Jaehyun–treatment for an accident on base when he was a teen had almost ended his life. It had delayed his development so long everyone had assumed he’d never present, not as he neared his 25th year without the markers.

But all that had changed overnight. Mark’s ancestral genetics had returned with a vengeance. If human healing was a problem, so was rapid cell reconstruction without a stable network for tissue to form or the biological materials to build it out of.

Johnny, Jungwoo, and Haechan had managed the night mission to obtain grafts, replacement cartilage and bone scaffolding while the other Felids donated plasma. It had taken another 4 hours in surgery to make sure there was no long term damage, this time with surprisingly efficient results–Taeil had watched as muscle tissue and skin reconnected, the only visible sign of injury in the shiny, faint scars on Mark's neck and torso and claw marks on the shaved side of his head. 

The little cat would be fine, given enough time. 

He's sure nothing can prepare Mark for the burden of healing from what he'd been through, emotionally, but he has hope for that, too. Jaehyun had stayed most of the night under the guise of wanting to donate more blood if needed, but he'd recognized the same impulse in him that had kept you holding Mark's hand the first day: survivor's guilt. All three of you seemed to be connected by it.

From an outside observation, it felt almost intrusive to see the two Felids together. The older Alpha slept folded over Mark's legs as if he could keep him fixed to this plane of existence. Perhaps it was the deep rumble of Jaehyun's breathing, or the way Mark's hands occasionally dug into the sheets with the delicate, white claws he'd begun expressing after the first twelve hours. More than that, their scents had combined in a tell-tale way, a little like meadowgrass warmed under the sun.

He doesn't want to chase down the possibility of a claim caused by injury–he still has never heard of any made that way that didn't involve you–but he's also a scientist. Phenomena observed once are an anomaly, multiple times a basis for a hypothesis.

Whatever occurred, Taeyong and Doyoung had agreed to keep the reports of Mark's condition as quiet as possible. They didn't need Third Princess Lee Eunchae finding out about her son's brush with death by any means, especially second-hand.

Taeil knows he'd be the first to suffer her wrath, Taeyong and Doyoung would follow. The Princesses' late-life vows as an Allfaiths nun did not preclude her from rending him or the former Crown Prince to pieces. He's sure once she sees Mark's scars she'll do it with words, alone.

Thankfully Mark would be able to relay the news, personally, now that he was conscious. The would-be Prince of Goryeo is currently experiencing his first real painkiller and sedative cocktail, his forkful of melon dripping into the sheets as he attempts to referee Yuta and Haechan's card game.

"Is it poker? Man. You can't play poker with two people. Where's the pot?" he laughs, feet kicking beneath the sheets. “Deal me in.”

"Go fish," Haechan says, throwing a Jack of Hearts on the pile that's begun to slide off the overbed table.

"Koi koi," Yuta answers, picking up another card to add to his hand from the stack.

A goofy smile appears on Mark's face as he tries to parse the rules Taeil knows they're making up on the fly just to fuck with him. It's good his friends are here for him. Johnny would join them once he was back from the lower levels–Taeil had messaged the prime the moment his ward came to. 

He busies himself checking the supplies in his field kit, unable to escape the scrutiny of the three others in the room.

"Doctor, are you going somewhere special looking that good?" Mark slurs. The other two share a laugh, but not at Mark.

"He's got a date," Yuta says, picking up the discards to shuffle. Haechan snorts, laying down his hand. 

"Dinner with the queen," Haechan says, eyes darting up full of spite. 

Taeil ignores it, checking himself in the mirror over the handwashing station. 

"Just a housecall," he says. He adjusts the slim tie he's knotted over his dress shirt, the tightness on his neck reminding him of a noose. Black on black: for his own funeral, he supposes.

"____ really made it, huh." Mark has already heard a few words to relay the current situation but it's never broached past a general sense of your condition–as if the details would be too much for him. 

"She's fine," Haechan says, lightly. "I saw her this morning. Looked good as new. Maybe a little . . . peckish."

"Princess has an appetite," Yuta says. Haechan snickers at it, folding back in his chair, as Mark takes small bites of his fruit salad contemplatively. Taeil watches him for a bit, unable to anticipate the younger man's response to the news or the lewd jokes the twin devils at his bedside are exchanging in a tone they know he can hear.

"She’s doing surprisingly well," Taeil says, voice level. "For being dead for a minute and a half."

The hum of equipment is the only sound in the wake of his statement. He expects Yuta or Haechan to say something glib, but they just look at him expecting him to continue–their faces masked.

"It felt a lot longer." Taeil adds, palm spreading over his shirtfront. His chest still aches with the memory of the broken breastbone and ribs you'd sustained during chest compressions. “I hope you never have to feel what that’s like.”

Taeil feels badly that Mark looks deathly ill, again, but at least so do the others.  

He waves his hand over the door control. "I'll be back before midnight. If there's another emergency, I want to be the last to know."

Being off-duty after a double shift has always made him giddy (he's joking with himself, in a way–he hasn't been off-duty in his entire adult life) but it does feel like he’s back in the early days of his training doing days-long shifts, looking forward to the long break.

Even if it's with you, in your . . . state. Your perfume has saturated the entirety of the executive floor, perceivable at the lower levels.

Based on the interesting nature of his dreams when he’d managed a brief nap last night, as well as the scent on Johnny that morning when he’d checked in on Mark, you weren’t adhering to the appropriate schedule for rehab. 

He doesn't blame you for breaking your fast with what you need, but he's also riddled with anxiety over how soon you've begun your descent into the next dip in your cycle. You're back on bio-monitoring and the expected hormonal spikes are, just as he imagined, off the charts.

Back when he'd been in the Imperial College a favorite pastime of his dorm mates had involved a contraband bottle of ginseng wine and dramatic readings from the private journals of the old Imperatrix's personal doctor (and rumored lover). Not one to indulge, they'd been burnt into his memory ever since.

Subject appears to be in a constant state of estrus. Diestrus is non-existent in this particular line of vulpes vulpes forma amicus. Breeding her has surpassed the abilities of a mere mortal. She is described as having the stamina of a dozen of her kind wrapped up in one. During the second ceremonial mating ritual a team was quietly dispatched to resuscitate the Imperator and administer numerous fluid IVs, as well as a recommended reprieve from additional intercourse. The Imperial palace was almost burnt down for the first time since it was last sacked in the 16th century. Perhaps we have made a mistake in our calculations of Vulpine appetite.

You're at least burning nothing but candles, and certainly not the meal you'd prepared for him, when he enters the suite. Your shoulders are relaxed as you work in Taeyong's kitchen, listening to what he thinks might be 20th century music, tail keeping time with the fits and starts of a piano recorded a few centuries ago. 

You look over your shoulder at him, coquettishly, adding green onions to a clay pot of samgyetang.

"I asked Doyoung your preference of foods, if you don't mind," you say, looking up at him with a hint of slyness on your lips. "Samgyeoupsal?"

It could just be white rice served a grain at a time for all he cares but Taeil nods, smiling a little in return. 

"I was surprised when I got your message about dinner. I thought I was just checking your ankle," he says. "How does it feel?" 

He doesn't have to ask, distant throbbing in his heel, but he knows your language now better than anyone, sees the way your black-and-orange ears fold back with a touch of shyness and delight. You do love being cared for, but even more, listened to.

"Much better, thanks to you," you reply, half-curtseying so your robe pools on the floor. He thinks it must be one of Taeyong's many embroidered silk luxuries, so long it almost trips you. What’s more notable is the way you've wrapped the sleeves back, tie criss-crossed over your torso in an ancient fashion. 

"How about your dreams?" he asks. He feels like a fool the moment the words slip from his mouth, moreso when you look at him with concern. 

"I mean, did you sleep well?" He course-corrects. 

"Very well," you say. "Most of the day, actually. When I wasn't learning how to make kimchi." 

Your eyes do look irritated, but he thinks it might not be from onion or garlic. He drops his bag to help you bring dishes to the table, mouth watering not just for the spread on the ancient wood table. 

After he catches himself staring for the hundredth time he realizes now he's never seen you with your hair drawn back from your face. You've always made an effort to hide your scars.

He's never once entertained the thought of running his finger down them without your permission but he can't stop his hand from raising unconscious, wanting to touch them.

"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, rubbing at your cheek with your sleeve.

Damn his rut, and damn his awkwardness as he flounders. You're looking at him with amusement, intuiting his emotions easily.

"Oh, no." he says. "Sorry. It's been a long day." Days.

"Of course," you say, dipping your head. "Please, eat. I have a selection of drinks for you, as well."

He refuses your offering of alcohol with the excuse of being on duty, too sure he'll stumble again. He regrets it immediately, watching the artful way you pour your own glass of soju.

"Don't worry, I won't poison you," you say wryly, expression going sad as you sit down beside him. He understands where your emotions are taking you, stopping it firmly with a hand on your head, stroking your ear absentmindedly until the movements of your tail warn him off. 

"Thank you for treating me to such a nice meal. It's a very nice gesture," he says.

It's strange being on the receiving end of a home-cooked dinner, after all the ones he's prepared for the pack. He has to stop himself from over-indulging after days of convenience store fare, picking choice bites of spring chicken from the samgyetang and letting the broth and sweet rice heal his queasy stomach. 

You continue to serve him, taking charge of the electric grill like you're in one of the old pop-ups he's used to frequenting, conversing while your eyes dart up to him. You talk about the weather, ask about the news. It feels comfortable in a way he's completely unused to–to the point that he can barely hear what you're saying until you ask about Mark. 

"Oh," he says, choking on too much lettuce and ssamjang in his last mouthful of velvety pork belly. "He's doing well. Awake. He might still need a few more transfusions but he’s recovering much more quickly than we expected."

"He needs blood?" you ask, drawing up. "Could I–?" 

"No. No," he says a little too forcefully. "He'll survive. The other Felids are more suitable donors, anyway."

Too close of a genetic match, too likely a rejection of the grafts he's received, he thinks, but it's better left unsaid. Your scent has changed, mournful chrysanthemum as present as when you'd lain beside Mark the day before–the same he thinks Jaehyun smells like, now. 

“You should go visit him once you’re feeling up to it,” he says. “Although . . . I think we’ll have time tomorrow.”

Another message had been fed through the internal network, pushed to all parties–well, not the recruits, but they'd enjoy the leftovers, if there were any. You'd crafted a beautiful invitation in the style of Old Seoul's etiquette, individual messages written in brush strokes of digital ink. 

Dearest Doctor . . . 

He'd barely registered the words after that, just that you'd planned a formal dinner, early, to recognize the pack's tribunal. And, he thinks, your likely departure. 

“Yes,” you nod, poking at a piece of garlic skittering on the hot plate. “I asked Taeyong if I could prepare another meal. For the whole pack. As a way to give thanks, I suppose. My mother taught me that when one doesn't have much to offer they can at least find a means to ease another's burden." 

"That reminds me," he says, "I think this might be the first time we've eaten together. Unless you count cup ramen." 

You nod, laughing a little dourly at the memory. "One of the many benefits to having Doyoung and Taeyong back is that the grocery deliveries are more suited for an Imperial palette."

You look up at him, smiling. It's the first time he's realized you're wearing cosmetics–nothing immediately discernible but your lips are shaded rouge, your eyes circled in black making the orange in them that much brighter. 

"Could I ask you something personal?" 

You wait for him to respond, fingering your untouched glass.

"It depends," he says. "Shoot."

"Are you still . . . ?" Your voice drifts off, husky.

He feels his ears burn at the implied question. He must be addled from lack of sleep if he's letting a simple matter of biology embarrass him, but then you'd put a damper on his professional facade the moment you'd put teeth in his wrist. 

"It doesn't matter." Taeil waves you off, stealing your drink to take half of it in one quaff. The liquor is sweet on his tongue, tasting a little like you. 

"Why do you ask?"

You play with the ties on your robe, black-tipped claws tugging the satin.

"I need your help," you say, beginning to ramble. "I know that you'll probably say no–not that I don't think you like me enough just that–it's a great deak to ask. I hope I can convince you of the urgency of the situation–" 

He's been wondering if this dinner was a gambit again, a way to make him comfortable. But a good physician is always prepared.

"You don't need my permission to have intercourse with Johnny," he says, at a much slower cadence. "While I can advise against it, especially so quickly after your injuries, your body is your own."

You look disturbed for only an instant before gasping out a curse under your breath, your uncomfortable laughter growing into peals as you fold over your knees.

"I was going to ask you if you–" you say, wiping away tears, laughing again when you see his droll expression. "–if you could help me cook. Tomorrow."

You pour yourself another glass of soju, pushing it towards him after a moment.

"I hope you don't think I'm laughing at you," you say, hiccuping a bit. "Just at the absurdity of this situation. Thank you for the approval."

"Of course I'll help you," he says, loosening his tie, reaching to turn off the grill. "What are you planning?"

"You'll find out," you muse. "Let's not focus on plans right now. I think you should relax."

Relax? 

Taeil measures the way your hand reaches out to him but doesn't respond as your fingers encircle his tie and tug on it, softly. If his body follows, it's just to save himself from being strangled.

"Now that I have one favor do you think you can grant me another?" you ask, the fall of your lashes dark in the light from the chandelier. He can see you fight the smirk of knowing whatever response he gives he'll be completely at your disposal.

"I value my life enough not to fuck you," he says, words distant. "Anything but that."

"You really are an old dog," you tease, claws pricking through his shirt when you drop the tie to run your hand down the line of buttons. 

"The favor isn't related to that. Although we can kill two birds with one stone here if you'd like to give me the blessing to consummate with Taeyong. No one's told me what that will entail and I'm a bit tired of feeling foolish–"

"Oh," Taeil says, backing up quickly. "I would just need to do another exam. I admit, I didn't bring anything for that–"

"We can start with the exam. But like I asked before . . . it would be nice to have some instruction. Just a physical demonstration, of course."

You're having so much fun at his expense, flustering him, but worse is the crackling heat of your arousal, as if having a cold metal instrument shoved inside you would be something to look forward to. 

"Why don't I send you a few papers on omega male physiology, and come back tomorrow once you've had a bit more time to recover. And read."

Once I have enough time to remind myself why I played anesthesiologist on my own vein rather than spend another moment alone with you, he thinks.

"Do I scare you?" you ask. Your hands move lazily as you begin to undress in front of him. There's not much to remove, though thankfully you're wearing something under the robe, just a blur as he focuses on your face to keep from running for the door.

"No," he says. Yes, he thinks. 

You're not a patient anymore, not off-duty. But you are his prime's mate. Johnny hadn't even bothered to get his agreement in the farce of his pack order, confident as an elder and a healer he'd follow the correct and righteous path in the face of an omega in heat. 

"Truth be told," Taeil begins, "Suh hasn't been himself lately. I would like to avoid getting on his bad side."

"Noted," you say. "I'll be honest as well. I'm actively trying to get on it." 

There's that Vulpine deviousness and playfulness again–which any sane person would run at the sight of. You do look different when your eyes are narrowed and your fangs are bared. It's enough to make him dizzy, feeling you preen a little at the thought of malice towards your mate. 

"Have you considered another target than the one person who can treat mortal injuries in this pack," he says. 

"Of course," you demur, leaving your robe open as you climb on to the table from your chair. "But what excuse would he have for mistreating you if you were simply performing your duty as a physician?" 

Taeil's breath hitches in his throat, paralyzed at the sight of you pulling your underwear off, kicking it from your foot into his lap. You don't remove your robe but you lean back against the table, legs opening so the dim light catches on the shimmer of your slick. 

"Where are you going?" you ask, when he immediately gets up and turns away.

"I need–"

"Instruments? Gloves?" you ask. 

"To wash my hands."

He feels himself crumbling like a sun-crisped leaf, maintaining a facade that neither of you are fooled by as he puts his glasses back on, rolls up his sleeves, and spends more time than necessary scrubbing under his fingernails with the soap at the sink. Knowing Doyoung, it's antibacterial.

"Before I do this I'd like you to swear you won't play around. I would like you to take this seriously," he says from a safe distance. 

You smooth the crimp in your mouth, eyes dancing. "Of course, doctor. No orders, no games. No biting." 

All your rules seem to be a joke, your tail swishing. "Well, I won't. You're welcome to. It's only fair." 

He gives you an exasperated sigh as he attempts to clear the table with his forearms, preoccupied with the thought of you ending up sloshed in cold broth. "Hands and teeth to yourself, this time."

"Shh," you say, pulling on his tie again until his hips cage yours. "I'll be a good patient."

"Then why don't you be a good patient and get into position," he says, leveling your attempt at dominance with as much seriousness as he can muster. 

You scoot to a clear part of the table, feet placed flat once you've kicked them free of the silk beneath you. You know the drill, have probably been forced into this position from the time you came into breedable age, expected to continue to live permanently in it when you bore pups.

He's performed and watched thousands of exams, but it's remarkably different when it's with you. You're spread before him, physically unremarkable, nothing he hasn't seen before. It's only the first time again for the way you look at him now, hair pooled against the rings of dark wood as your head rolls against the table, your ears folded back with curiosity.

He digs in his bag for sanitizer, gloves. He hadn't even thought to bring a speculum, but he thinks it's not right to involve a device, considering the last time he'd subjected you to it. He finds gloves, at least. He doesn't need that scent under his fingernails.

"All the doctors I knew from the Palace treated me like just another test subject. But you never have, have you?" 

"No," Taeil says, pulling you by the legs, helping you slide to the edge of the table with your knees relaxed, fabric falling beneath. "I've never seen you that way." 

"How do you see me?" you ask, tail moving more inquisitively now that it's between your legs.

"You're going to feel a little pressure. Just relax." 

His left hand rests on your twitching belly as his right hand gently pushes in. He's never done this without the safety of a clinic setting. He doesn't have to tell you to breathe after that initial inhale, your next breaths transmitted through your belly as you focus on relaxing for him.

The rough patches of scab tissue are no longer present, but you gasp all the same when he palpates your walls to check for any remaining soreness, slick oozing warm around his fingers the longer he stays embedded inside of you.

"Everything check out?" you ask, breath hitching when he presses firmly on the dip below your navel, fingers curling up inside. He is trying to perform the examination with as much efficacy as possible and you seem to be trying to hold it together as well, muffling each spontaneous cry out into your shoulder.

This angle affords him a view of your ecstasy, smelling it so deeply that he knows it will linger regardless of his efforts to wash it away.

"Any pain?" he asks, voice a croak.

Your answer is inaudible as well, face towards the ceiling as you swallow whatever else you have to say.

There's no way that Johnny mated you; the only lubrication is the copious amounts of slick you're producing. You'll need another IV, he thinks. He gently curls his fingers into the rough patch of your silky insides, well below his other hand and feels a wisp of delight in the back of his mind as your hips rise up from the table. 

"You know–you know where it hurts," you shoot back between caged breaths. "Is there anything else wrong with me?"

"Nothing, unless you count being an incorrigible little vixen," he mutters.

He sees your indignation disappear the moment you realize he's horrified at his own words.

"I'm sorry, that–it really has been a long day." He breathes shallowly through his nose at the first squeeze of your laughter around his fingers. In another strike against his professionalism he's as hard as a rock, trying to keep from crushing himself against the table.

"Doctor, I didn't know you had it in you," you say. 

You're so accepting that he forgets the context of his penetrating you, his collar much too tight, exhales sharp as he stays buried. You sit up a little, elbows bent back and just as out-of-breath.

"Are you alright?" you ask. Your mouth is agape, expression lit from within with unchecked arousal. From the look on your face you're about to dare him to continue.

He's not going to be able to maintain that distance. Not when you can read him like a book, making micromovements to bring him deeper inside.

You're a furnace radiating warmth on a winter's night, opening up for him, as he finds himself pushing into you in soft strokes that have absolutely nothing to do with medical care and everything to do with observing you come undone.

"This–" you gasp, moaning a bit. "This isn't standard protoc–fuck."

"What was that about being a good patient?" He keeps his voice steady, his own erection throbbing in sync with the little spasms inside you as you're stimulated exactly right. "Want me to stop?"

You throw your head back, shaking it.

"Consider this a part of your treatment," he says.

It's not unprecedented–some of the best passages in those old notes had to do with the various ways to cure omega hysteria, although he knows there's no cure for yours. Not one he can provide, at least.

He digs in a little more, hand spreading over your core, thumb lowering to the dip of your folds. Clinically, of course.

"Thank you, thank you," you mumble, biting your lip. "Please don't stop, please keep going." 

"Open up your legs for me, relax," he says, decisively. When you've stopped fighting him he adds a third finger to better stretch you, the impact of it felt palpably in his hand pressed over your pubic bone. Your cervix is right there against his fingertips, body adjusting to take him. 

Wouldn't that be nice? He knows it would be easy. If he let himself he'd be knotted in you until this expensive dinner table would need to be burnt from how much slick you spilled on it.

"Don't stop, please, please don't stop," you beg, taking his hand so well. "Please." 

He leans forward to curl his hand around your nape, holding you by the scruff like they'd been trained to keep your kind from squirming. You're arms brace behind you to hold yourself up, unsure of your position until he pulls you forward to rest your head against his shoulder, making you watch his fingers disappear inside of you. 

You're a whimpering, desperate mess, robe hanging off your shoulder, hair coming loose. It's even more lovely inside of you, walls tensing around him with each spasm of your pelvic floor muscles, a light brush of his thumb against your clit with each thrust propelling you forward into your climax. 

He's not much better, rocking against your limp leg and the sharp table's edge. He can hold it together even as you lose yourself. You come on his hand with a sharp little sound, music to his Alpha's ears as he closes his eyes to ride the same tremor ghosting through his groin.

"Good girl," he murmurs, movements easing in time with the lengthening period between each contraction.

His hand is cramping by the time he releases you, webs of slick between his flexed fingers wiped on your robe, as saturated as it already is. He removes his gloves, discarding them without much concern for where they land, not when you're still pressed into his chest. 

"You'll probably want to get one of those every few hours, until you decide to break your heat," he says, back to himself. "You have options."

You lean against him, breathing hard.

"Please don't leave me," you say in a tiny voice, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets you hold him for a little while longer–there's no reason not to enjoy being immersed in the satisfaction he's given you, or to provide you with the comfort you both crave. 

"You can just say it's treating me. It doesn't have to be anything else if you don't like me that way."

Anger trickles down his neck, sullying the glow he's feeling having you against him. He's never thought of himself as a jealous or dominating person, content to be the one others came to for help or guidance even if he wasn't prime, but the thought of you underestimating his feelings and your own worth, again, has him livid.

You feel it, eyes widening as you peer up at him. 

"Did I say something wrong?"

"What ever gave you the impression that I would use you?" he asks. "Or that you're not important to me?" 

"I marked you against your will–"

"You have a bad habit of giving into your animal urges. But you're also fully capable of defending yourself when you need to," he says, brushing a sweat-pinned strand of hair from your forehead. "I was . . . angry. I still should be. I just don't blame you for it."

Something Doyoung had said a few days ago had stuck with him, unneeded advice offered as he drank bitterly strong coffee and indulged in a vaporizer pen for the first time since residency. 

"It's not any consolation, I know, but if she chose you, it means she trusts you." 

"I knew you were a good choice." You look up at him, eyes glazed over with something impenetrable. He catches himself before he can lean in to kiss you. 

"I think that's as far as we go before we cross a threshold I'm not sure you can come back from," he says. 

It's too early to feel anything real with you but there's a tiny corner of his mind that can't help but be occupied by the hope you'd look at him as fondly as the others. That you wouldn't take for granted his feelings when you were overwhelmed by your own or of the more vocal members of the pack.

You nuzzle into his chest, scent-marking him even more with the side of your mouth, nipping slightly at the pocket of his shirt. 

"I know you think I'm compromised because of the heat but I don't feel that way with you. I want to take care of you, like you take care of me."

You look up at him, blinking wetly. "You deserve to be treated well. It's the least I can do."

Physician, heal thyself.

"As sweet as your offer is–" he begins to laugh, changing tack when he sees that you're serious. "I would prefer it not be under the obligation of us both needing physical relief." 

You don't seem to understand what he means in his rambling, a twinge of embarrassment passing through him. He lets his guard down for a bit, petting the back of your neck and shoulders to make himself more comfortable, closing his eyes and imagining what he wants in a way more easily communicated than with words. If his dog growls a little, at least you don't laugh at him for it. 

"You're worried I don't like you for who are," you state, voice breaking. "That you're not someone I would have chosen." 

"I . . . I think we have a long time and different circumstances before you reasonably could care about any of us."

"Because I might have to leave?" you sigh.

"Because you're not just a convenient remedy for an Alpha's needs. And some of us . . . well, I don't want to have a purely physical relationship with you," he says. "I could have that with anyone."

"Anyone?" you ask. You look intrigued, lips curling in an amused smile. 

"Poor choice of words. I've had my share of beta companions. Not every relationship we have is communal here, you know."

"Is that a backhanded way of calling me shared property?" you flirt, not helped by your core dripping against his pants. "Or are you calling me a whore?"

You drop into bliss again when he adjusts so you can press into his thigh. Johnny is going to kill him if he doesn't find a way to extract himself from your clutches.

"You're neither of those things," he corrects. "I just mean I don't think your biology would allow you to be satisfied with one of us."

"No," you admit. "But I have a choice in who I want to mate. I chose you."

Somehow that admission feels more genuine than he can allow himself to accept. "I'm flattered. But you're far too important for me to take advantage of."

"And you're much too polite for your own good." You lean up to nose his jaw, lips pressing to his throat. "You should accept that this is a perfectly reasonable way to start to get to know each other." 

"You don't know what my rut is like." He swallows, keeping still as your tongue darts out to taste him. Everything about being held by you feels indecent, overstepping. Which is ridiculous considering he'd just finger-fucked you.

"Who better to teach me how to take care of Taeyong than someone I trust?" you ask. "Someone I already know can treat me well . . . with experience . . ."

You angle his head with a tug on his hair, kissing his neck with a little more tongue and teeth than he expects. This close to the gland has him reeling–the Alpha inside of him waking up from its slumber as starved as he knows he's felt for the past few days. 

"A favor for a favor, then," he says, pulse thundering in his ears. If he's damned either way, he may as well enjoy it.

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#agtbtb #nct 127 fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct imagines #taeil smut #moon taeil smut #taeil x reader #nct omegaverse au

[oftenwantedafton]

Vent - Steve Raglan/William Afton/Springtrap x Female Reader

Chapters 18-20

Rating - Explicit

Warning for sexual content

Also available on AO3 Chapter 18 | 19 | 20

Chapter 18 ~ deja vu ~

The spring rains in Hurricane have begun in earnest.

Ten steps from your front porch and down the driveway bring you to Steve Raglan’s car. There is no longer any debate about how you will reach your destination. You just accept that he will be there each afternoon, ferrying you to your fate.

It’s pouring today and the water sits on your cheeks, sinks into your hair, douses your lips. Your work shirt clings to you, the white material plastering to the flesh beneath. Your fingers press into the stitching on the seams of the seat your body sinks into. Cherry licorice today, you can smell the artificial scent. His palm cups your cheek and his thumb approaches the shallow divot at the center of your bottom lip and you automatically reach for it, sucking it into the warm wetness of the cavern just behind. You’ve been trained for this. You’re good at it. You listen to the sharp intake of breath and let the older man drink the rainwater from your mouth. The sky weeps onto the sedan. The windshield wipers squeak gently as the blades streak across the glass.

Your employer brings you to the establishment.

***

“Where’s Bonnie?”

You notice the absence of the blue rabbit as soon as you enter the dining area, the main stage now only displaying two animatronics.

“Transferred for repairs. That’s what we’ll be working on this afternoon.”

You follow him to the workroom. You’re still damp from the inclement weather outside. Wetter still in other places the rain cannot touch.

Your boss has not escaped the deluge. You watch him remove his glasses, tugging a corner of the hem of the tucked dress shirt free to polish the lenses. They smear and he sighs and sets them on the closest free surface. He depresses some hidden panel and a section of the robot’s shoulder lifts, then shines a pen light into the darkened space. “There. You see it?”

You lean closer. The wires look frayed, the electrical components charred. Almost as if it’s been struck by lightning, receiving too much current.

Raglan clutches the light between his teeth, rummaging among the tools he’d selected when you’d first entered the workshop. You feel like you’re assisting a surgeon as you watch him remove the damaged parts carefully, handing him the requested items, holding the light steady, participating in the removal when he indicates for you to.

“How was school today?” So casually asked. As if he hadn’t just spent long moments letting his mouth wander over you inside his car. You long to be back within the confines of that steel beast. Steve on his knees outside the car with you draped across the back seat, parted legs near the edge and that sinful mouth you’re constantly craving between them. You knew he didn’t care about the rain pummeling his spine or the puddle soaking through his work pants or the fact that it was still daylight when he’d pulled off the road. Your mind lingers on the way he always watches you watching him when he takes you apart.

“I got an A on my Calculus test.” You see a faint smile on the bearded man’s face. He’s pleased with you. “The yearbook committee went around asking people to submit photos and gave us pages to fill out for our entries. And the prom tickets went on sale.” You struggle to dig a ruined circuit board from the joint, hissing in satisfaction when you succeed.

“Good. Are you going to prom?” He pries the frayed wiring loose, glancing at you.

“No, of course not.”

“Why ‘of course not’?”

“Because I have no one to go with. I can’t dance. It would be awkward,” you protest. “Did you go to yours?”

He nods. “It was terrible. But it’s one of those things. A rite of passage. You shouldn’t miss out on.”

“And stand in the corner all night? No thanks.”

He uncoils fresh wire from the spool, sheathing it in electrical tape. The copper glints in the illumination from the penlight you’re still holding to assist your boss.

“Someone would still ask you to dance.”

“No one would notice me. No one ever does.”

His hands still and he looks at you. “I did.” His eyes are dark gray today, matching the storm outside.

“Yes, you did,” you agree quietly. You think about the open door behind you. What a shame he hasn’t locked it today.

***

There’s a party that night at the restaurant. Nothing formal, just a little taste testing event to confirm choices for the upcoming menu, a little reward for how well everything’s been progressing. It will be opening day soon.

You tuck yourself into the edge of the kitchen, watching Steve help the staff prepare the meal. For all his protests about not cooking that he'd made on your first night in his car, he clearly knows his way around a kitchen. You can envision him in a smaller space at home cooking, back when he’d had a family. Helping the kids with their homework until it was time to start getting a meal ready. The counter a mess by the time whatever dish or pot is simmering on the stove or placed in the oven to bake. Stacks of dishes in the sink. Sneaking a piece of cheese, licking a stray bit of tomato sauce from knuckles. Wife coming home, sighing at the mess good naturedly. Standing on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Positions reversed. She’s been waiting for him to get home from the restaurant. He asks her if she wants to go out. The kids are staying at their grandparent’s house. The wife now wears your face, suggesting they stay inside instead. The counter is cleared with one broad sweep of a scarred arm. His mouth is on your throat and his cock is driving into your pussy. This is what you dream about, in the quiet dark of your room. You draw his face and his hands and the patterns of his scars. Your journals remain blank. They’ve been that way for weeks. You cannot fill the pages because you’ve given all your words to him.

“Hey. Are you alright?” Raglan sees your far away look, perhaps notices how rapid your breathing has gotten. You nod. “Try this.” An appetizer is brought to your mouth. You accept it hastily, burning your tongue in the process. Something fried, cheesy, dipped in marinara. It’s delicious. His thumb lingers a heartbeat too long against your lips. One of the servers—a girl from your high school, a cheerleader, popular—glowers nearby. He’s too bold. Of course people must be talking about how the two of you are always together. They see you arrive as a pair, know you’re the last two leaving. As unremarkable and unnoticed as you think you are, they’ll still figure it out.

The girl says as much minutes later, backing you into a corner, arms folded beneath her breasts. She’s nearly got all the details right, save she assumes you’re already having intercourse. You haven’t gone that far yet, but that result is inevitable. You deny that he favors you, that you’re making more money than the rest of the staff. Steve sees your predicament. He tells her to leave, dismissing her threats to expose your relationship.

“Get the fuck out of my restaurant.” His voice is low and dangerous. He’s still holding a kitchen knife in one hand. The girl opens her mouth to protest, swallows the sound instead, and disappears into the deluge outdoors. Your eyes dart again to the blade. A sense of deja vu floods over you.

Chapter 19 ~ want ~

You’ve grown to enjoy some of the cassettes Steve Raglan plays in the car during your commute together.

You’re as familiar with the melodies and the lyrics as intimately as the older man is with your body. Sometimes he pulls the car over, fingers thrusting inside relentlessly until you’ve become lost in the rapture once, twice, and another for good measure. Sometimes he doesn’t even stop and touches you while he’s driving. An artist that’s perfected his craft. A musician plucking your insides until he creates the symphony of your pleasure.

“Do people still make mix tapes?” His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. It’s one of those nights when he’s multitasking, still driving. One finger probes inside your entrance, finding it already drooling.

“Um…yeah except they burn the songs on a CD instead…fuck…”

“I’ll make you one.” He adds a second finger. Curls the pair. Rubs that secret space inside you. You clutch his forearm, feeling the taut muscles there, your hips writhing in ecstasy. He removes his fingers when you’ve had your fill and sucks them. “My favorite candy.” You reach for the fly of his pants.

***

It’s late at night. and the restaurant still slumbers, not yet ready for customers. You and Steve are the only people inside, seated at one of the booths. You finish the last college application and the older man sets it onto the pile. You’ve decided on a career in engineering, still debating about the exact branch you’d like to focus on.

“Tonight was your prom night, wasn’t it?”

This again. You don’t understand his preoccupation with it. “Yes.”

“Would you mind running down to my office and grabbing something for me? There’s a package on my desk I need to mail.”

You nod, shoving at the employees only doors. The route is familiar to you now, the misgivings long buried. You still think of the yellow rabbit from time to time, but rarely. There is just too much of Steve to fill the spaces.

The manager’s door swings open and you pause, realizing there is no box on his desk. Instead there’s an evening dress, sheathed in a clear plastic garment bag hanging on the coat rack tucked into the corner. It’s dark navy, the scrolled embroidery on the bodice and skirt glinting where the embedded silver threads catch the light. Matching low heeled pumps sit nearby.

You gather the items in your arms and enter the restroom nearby, dragging your tshirt over your head and shrugging out of your jeans and sneakers. The dress fits you like a glove, draping neatly over your frame. You have no idea how he’d known your size, the shoes also a perfect fit. You wish you had makeup, something to style your hair with.

“Stunning,” the man greets you when you return to the dining room. The first two buttons of his dress shirt are undone, his tie coiled neatly, resting next to the car keys on the table and a CD that you think must be the promised mix tape, your suspicions confirmed when you recognize the first song that plays moments later when he’s slotted it into the player.

“This is… you didn’t have to…thank you,” you whisper.

He grins and offers you a hand, pulling you tightly against him. You laugh and he spins you around. He’s dimmed the lights. Your fingers weave together. His dark eyes devour you and his mouth covers yours.

You’re in the back seat of his car, dress hiked up, the dark fabric gathered above your hips. You feel him through his clothes grinding hard against your crotch. Lace panties today. You won’t wear anything else. They’re his favorite.

You kiss the scars that mark his collarbones, peeling the folds of the collar back to have better access. You love the noises he makes; love that it’s you making him create them. You’ve never had a friend before him. You’ve waited your entire life for this.

“I want…” he begins, the words hot against your ear.

You want, too.

Chapter 20 ~ jekyll and hyde ~

Steve Raglan’s house is a well maintained brick Tudor with curls of ivy wrapped around the iron gates bordering the front yard.

You wait for him to fumble the key to the front door in the lock. His smile is as unsteady as his hands.

There’s a living room with a fireplace to greet you when you first walk in. A row of built in bookshelves filled top to bottom. Your fingers run over the spines, tugging a copy of Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde free. You’ve read this before. You envision the older man tucked into the recliner in the corner with this book cradled in his hands, those long, deft fingers turning the pages.

He drags you against him and the book falls to the floor.

Past the kitchen and bathroom you’re led inside his bedroom. Tidy walnut dresser and matching nightstands and a platform bed with storage beneath it. You wonder what he might keep in those drawers. A free standing full length mirror occupies one corner of the room.

You see your reflection in it as stands behind you, helping to pull the dress over your head. He takes his time removing your undergarments, his fingers calmly skimming over your still damp skin, but you know better. His eyes betray him every time. They meet yours in the mirror.

You turn, reaching for the buttons of his shirt. You’ve never seen him undressed. The scars extend over every inch of his now exposed torso. You lick along the line of one, hear the air whistle sharply as it’s dragged into his lungs. You’re pushed onto the bed. Firm mattress, firm pillows, soft comforter beneath you. He unfastens his pants, lets them drop to the carpet. More scars tattoo the skin there, your gaze lingering on the ones that extend promisingly down from his abdomen. Briefs pulled from hips and there they are, running down over the wings of bone, spilling down his thighs. There is no end to the patterns that you can see.

He climbs into bed, his long frame hovering over you. Still the deceptive calm before the storm, every movement slow and deliberate. Your heart is racing. His lips press into your hairline, graze your nose. Finally on your mouth. You clutch his neck, dig your nails into his bicep. One hand finds the space between your thighs and his fingers fill the hollow wetness. His mouth leaves yours as he straightens, on his knees, tugging your legs up and apart. Pressure when he’s positioned there, just slight, still poised, waiting. Those eyes on yours again. There’s no going back from this. It’s your final lesson. One moment still virgin, the next not and oh, the stretch of it as he pushes. It’s beyond what his fingers have teased for so many weeks. You feel yourself tearing, a sharp burning pain. You bite your lip and whimper. He’s barely begun. There’s so much more of his cock to take into you. Your throat knows this lesson only too well.

Another couple inches buried. Your hands squeeze the duvet beneath you. The fingers on your thighs dig into your skin. Deeper still. The absolute ache of it. You wonder what it feels like to him, to be clenched in that narrow space. You’re tugged against him, the distance closed in one impatient burst. Another high pitched whine escapes. Fully inside you, pausing before withdrawing partly. Pushed back in. The process repeats. Again. In. Out. In. Out.

Raglan’s body shifts. He’s bent over you again, still seated inside your body, your knees hugging his ribs. His mouth melts in yours. Still fucking your raw pussy open slowly. Reaching your cervix. A new ache when he strikes that place.

The sensations evolve as he gradually pushes into you faster. It still hurts, but there’s another feeling blossoming inside. You grow wetter. Your hips meet his. Your breathing is so harsh; his own huffed against your neck. One hand paws at your breasts. There’s none of the usual careful artistry in the touches, the strokes desperate, needy. The contact between your bodies is a feverish sequence of slapping movements. A thumb finds your clit, grinding the tender nub. Faster still. Your body knows instinctively how to move. The hair at the nape of his neck is damp beneath your fingers, moist from rainwater and perspiration. You can taste the salt of it as it beads on his forehead and slides down into your mouth.

Steve’s body tenses, rigid against yours when he cums, spilling inside of you, claiming you. He’s your first and you’re his only and that’s the thought that carries you through to your own release.

***

The older man is asleep beside you, snoring gently. You cannot join him in slumber. You’re sore inside and out, tender, raw, but it’s a good kind of ache. You’re proud of it. You slide out of bed and grab the dress shirt lying on the floor, slipping it over your shoulders. You pad barefoot down the hall to use the bathroom, then wander back to the living room. The book is still on the floor. You bend to retrieve it, thumbing through the printed text. The pages are thick, ivory colored, and smell like the public library, old paper and old ink. Vintage, like all of his other possessions. You are the newest one he owns. You reach the title page. The one opposite from it features a book plate. It looks very dated. He’s had this story for a long time.

You’re about to shut the cover when you realize it’s not Steve Raglan’s name printed there.

William Afton

Your eyes ignore the surname and focus on the first one. You stare until the pair of orbs burn, until they water. The yellow rabbit’s warning reverberates in your mind.

William. You should avoid him at all costs.

He’s using another name, but it’s him.

You should run. Get out while you still can.

Your stomach drops and the book follows, clattering to the hardwood floor.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #fnaf fanfic #fnaf movie #william afton #steve raglan #springtrap