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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

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The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader)

Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.

Word Count: 2,701

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.

Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.

He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.

In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.

He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.

Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.

Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.

Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.

When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.

"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.

Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.

"Yes, hello indeed."

She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.

"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"

He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.

"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."

He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.

"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.

"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"

"Is that why you've come to join me?"

Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.

"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"

After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.

Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.

It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.

Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.

"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.

Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.

"Miss what, my dear?"

"Life."

He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.

"Not particularly. I take it you do?"

Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.

"Sometimes." she admitted.

Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.

That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.

It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.

"What do you miss?"

"My mom."

And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.

"Were you two close?"

Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.

"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."

"What landed you down here?"

Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.

"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"

"We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Alastor..."

"Shoot me, I'm curious."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"

Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.

"Deal."

"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."

"You made a deal."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So spill."

Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.

"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"

"Really?"

Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.

"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"

There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.

"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."

It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.

"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"

Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.

"I was a serial killer."

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Really? You? But you're so..."

"So what, my dear?"

"So nice."

Alastor stilled.

"Nice?" he repeated.

Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.

At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.

"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."

The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.

It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.

Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.

The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.

Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.

"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"

All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.

Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was then he noticed the radio on the table.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."

"Where did you get that?"

"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."

Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.

"You heard todays broadcast?"

"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"

Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.

"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."

"You didn't tell me you were my killer."

His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.

"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.

"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."

"And you think it was me, my heart?"

"Alastor." she crossed her arms.

"I..."

"How could you not tell me?"

Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.

"I didn't me-"

"Mean for me to find out?"

"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.

Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.

"But also, I didn't mean to-"

"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"

"I..."

The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.

"My darling, my heart, m-"

"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.

She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.

"I... I need some time."

"No, Y/n, wait. Please."

Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.

"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."

"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."

"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."

"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."

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summer-princess · 3 months

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Inappropriate Response: Leila Ouahabi x Reader

Summary: Leila confronts you after a bad tackle. Things escalate. 🔞Smut. Mdni. 🔞 Pairing: Leila Ouahabi x Reader Warnings: Everything is consensual but not explicitly negotiated beforehand. Fingering, degradation, wall sex Disclaimer: Obviously fiction. Notes: I've had this partially written for so long! I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave requests! Words: 2674

You knew you had fucked up as soon as you collided with your opponent.

Her pained shout as she fell to the ground under your mistimed challenge made your stomach roil as you hopped back up to your feet, barely noticing the referee as she pulled out the yellow card and held it up in your direction.

Even as your teammates surrounded her, beginning to argue on your behalf, you didn’t bother. Instead, you peered around the backs of City’s medical team, trying to catch a glimpse of the player you’d taken out.

Through her grimace of pain as the medical staff helped her to her feet and off the pitch, Leila Ouahabi still managed to send an impressive glare your way.

She had to be substituted off, and the knot of guilt in your stomach only tied itself tighter.

You could see her glaring at you from the City bench, clearly still stewing over the bad tackle as she sat with her ankle covered in ice, but it faded from your mind as the match continued on. When it was over, you retreated back into the locker room with your teammates, not expecting the Spaniard to make anything more of it.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

As you knew for a fact that you were the last one in the lockers, the sound of the door made you jump, water bottle clattering down to the floor as you whipped your head around, catching sight of black hair as the Spaniard fixed you with a steely glare.

You didn’t know Leila well, having only played against her a few times, but you could tell that she was still angry as she stalked toward you, ankle clearly still tender. You wanted to melt into the floor as she got closer, wishing that you could disappear before you had to hear exactly what the Spaniard thought of you.

There was no such luck for you as Leila stalked towards you, her approach pushing you further and further back.

“What the fuck was that tackle?”

You shrugged, back pressing against the white wall as she cornered you. You wanted to apologize, again, but your words were lodged in your throat as her glare froze you in place. The sensation of the back against the wall, the beautiful woman with ire in her eyes growing closer and closer, was going straight between your thighs.

You knew that your reaction was entirely inappropriate.

Her response was entirely disproportionate, the rational side of your mind told you. It had been a mistake, and you had apologized for it. Repeatedly, in fact. You shouldn’t be standing here and listening to her shout at you, back against the wall. You should be yelling back, standing up for yourself.

But you weren’t.

Instead, your eyes were locked on the defender’s pretty face as she cornered you, and her fury had you shivering for a very different reason.

Your cheeks were red and heated with a scarlet blush, and your face wasn’t the only part of your body that felt hot.

“Well?!”

You didn’t know what to say as she shouted at you once again, the fierce bite of her words sending a fresh shiver through you. Your silence was clearly beginning to grate on her nerves as she clenched her jaw, unwilling to leave you alone until you’d explained yourself to her satisfaction.

“I… Um…”

Unconsciously, you pressed your thighs together, your pussy beginning to tingle with arousal. You worried your tongue between your teeth, only getting wetter as the Spaniard glared at you, so close. But she couldn’t know, could she?

There was no way that Leila could figure out why you were a stuttering mess, know way that she could know just how wet you were getting.

How, if she did figure it out, you would do whatever she asked of you.

The defender was, however, remarkably observant when she wanted to be.

Still narrowed in a glare, Leila’s eyes drifted downwards from your nervous face to the spot where your thighs were pressed together. You were trying desperately not to clench down around nothing, praying that your entirely inappropriate reaction to being backed into a corner by a beautiful woman would go unnoticed by the woman herself, that you could get her to accept your apology and flee home with your tail tucked in to take care of your need on your own.

Leila’s gaze, however, should have warned you that things wouldn’t exactly work out that way.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, realization flooding her face as you flushed scarlet, unable to stop a little whimper from escaping, cursing every decision you had ever made that had led you to this situation.

“You… You’re… Fuck. This is making you wet, isn’t it?”

You shook your head frantically, trying to deny it. Even as you did, another wave of arousal flooded through you, her looming presence going straight between your legs. The air between the two of you felt charged with electricity as she invaded your space, able to sense the way your breath hitched at her proximity.

“F-Fuck you, that’s-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Her growl drew another noise from you, much louder than the first. Your breath froze in your lungs as Leila slid one of her knees between your legs, her lower thigh making the barest contact with the place where her words had gone.

Even through your kit, the touch of the defender’s skin against your pussy made you whine. You just managed to stop yourself from grinding down against the other woman’s muscular leg, but the sound did nothing to disprove Leila’s conclusion.

You couldn’t meet her eyes.

There was no way this could be happening. There was no way you were trapped in a corner by a beautiful woman who was very angry at you, and there was no way she had just slid her leg between yours to confirm that the situation was making you wet.

“Look. At. Me.”

Even though it was torture, the blush on your cheeks setting your face ablaze to the point where you were fairly certain you were seconds away from spontaneous combustion, the bite behind her heavily accented English couldn’t be ignored.

Shaking, biting your lip to hold back the disappointed whimper when she removed her leg from between yours, you raised your chin and forced yourself to meet her eyes.

Her eyebrows were raised just slightly as her grip loosened, silently giving you the opportunity to say that you didn’t want this, to push her away and never speak of this moment again.

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a moment, but the press of Leila’s body against your own was just too tempting for denial to be anything but an unthinkable possibility.

One look into your face made the decision for Leila- behind the humiliation, your eyes were clouded with an obvious lust, the same expression she knew was dancing behind her own heavy gaze.

Slipping her hand beneath your shorts, Leila’s hand went straight to your wetness.

You were soaked, and it didn’t take the Spaniard long to more than confirm her original suspicion. The second her long fingers brushed against the crotch of your panties, they were met with damp fabric, plentiful evidence of her claim. You whimpered, rocking your hips forward into her touch, and the defender let out a harsh laugh.

“You fucking slut.”

Her hands found the waistband of your shorts and unceremoniously yanked them down your thighs, pulling your panties along with them.

“Wanna make it up to me, hm?”

You nodded desperately, not trusting your words to properly convey how much you needed to make it up to her in this way, hoping that the motion of your head would get the message across.

Leila swore in Spanish at the feeling as, unencumbered by your shorts and panties, her fingers once again met the bare flesh of your cunt. She wasted no time before beginning her ministrations, two fingers pressed together gathering the wetness from your entrance and dragging it back up to your clit. The defender began stroking your sensitive little nub, relishing the way you were unable to hold back a strangled moan. Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, the combination of the match and her fingers making you shudder and buckle a little, saved from collapsing to the floor only by her presence.

“How pathetic can you get?”

She was supporting a good portion of your weight now, ankle making a miraculous recovery as two fingers rubbed against your cunt, mercilessly stroking your clit.

Pathetic was definitely one of the many words that could be used to describe you right now, pressed up against the wall by a woman who probably hated you, soaking her fingers with your arousal.

But the best part?

The best part, and the worst part at the same time, was that you didn’t care. All you cared about right now was how much you needed her, needed her to keep you pinned against the wall with her larger body, needed her to keep touching you like that, needed the filthy, degrading words being growled in your ear.

“I could tell you to get on your knees and eat me out right here and you’d do it, no?”

You nodded desperately, trying to rock against her fingers. She pulled them back, swallowing your whine with a fierce and bruising kiss.

Leila’s kiss was like fire, her lips crashing against your own with a heat that could almost rival the one between her legs, where her fingers continued to work you. Her mouth dominated, your own offering little resistance as you moaned, again, into her tongue as it explored. She kissed you like she was dying, and your lips were the only cure, until she was suddenly pulling back, leaving you desperate for more.

Kiss broken, Leila’s other hand flashed out, wrapping around your neck as she held you against the wall. Your gasp of surprise was short and strangled, cut off in the face of the momentary restriction to your airflow. She didn’t keep her hand wrapped around your neck for longer than a second or two, just long enough to pin you in place as the fingers that had just been rubbing your sensitive clit and outer folds suddenly slipped inside your cunt. You were tight, but so wet that her two fingers slid easily inside, the Spaniard giving you only milliseconds to adjust before she was moving, fucking you in earnest, still keeping you pressed against the wall and at her mercy.

Even though her fingers were thin, the sudden intrusion still made you gasp aloud, instinctively trying to spread your legs further and give her better access. She swore again, a Spanish curse you couldn’t understand, welcoming the better angle as she buried herself in you up to the third knuckle, lithe digits swallowed by your desperate cunt.

She found her rhythm quickly, curling her fingers every few thrusts so she could massage the sensitive tissue inside of you.

You were fairly certain you had forgotten how to breathe properly, strangled gasps all you could manage as the Spaniard fucked you with her fingers. The pleasure was constant, pounding, overwhelming as her thumb rubbed messy circles across your clit, acute and addicting. Your mouth fell open, eyes heavy-lidded as you let yourself be fucked, owned by the gorgeous defender.

“You little slut,” she hissed, yanking you back to reality with her words as her wrist continued to guide her thrusts, power coming from her forearm as she fucked your willing hole. “You little fucking slut.”

“Your slut,” you moaned in agreement, throwing your head back as her fingers continued to plunder your pussy, making it clear who controlled the situation.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wanna be my little slut?”

You nodded, leaning forward desperately and puckering your lips, needing to feel her mouth against your own.

She met you halfway, pressing another furious kiss to your parted lips. You gasped into the kiss, clasping onto it like a breath of oxygen, even as it stole the air from your lungs. Her lips against yours only made her fingers plundering your cunt more intense.

You could feel the pressure beginning to build against your pelvis, the sensations becoming more and more intense as Leila slipped a third finger inside, the brief ache of the stretch quickly swallowed by the pleasure. Removing her lips from your mouth, the defender hissed into your ear, hot breath posing a question which made you shiver in anticipation and nerves.

“You deserve to come?”

You didn’t know which answer she wanted, but the idea of being denied, of her talented fingers leaving you a quivering mess and not seeing the act through to completion made you want to sob. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like Leila really expected an answer as she curled her fingers again, palm pressing firmly against your nub. Every movement of her fingers set your nerves on fire, sensitive little clit fully erect from her touch. You could feel your orgasm approaching much more rapidly now, barrelling towards you like a runaway freighter, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold back.

“Leila-”

The strangled moan of her name was enough to alert Leila to your predicament and, as much as the rapidly forming bruise on her ankle made her want to walk away and leave you panting, unsatisfied with your arousal coating your thighs, there was no real choice.

Not when you had taken her so well, not when you looked so pretty with her fingers buried inside your cunt, showing her just how sorry you were.

She wanted to feel you come around her fingers, and she wanted it now.

“Come for me. Make it up to me, slut, and come for me like the needy thing that you are.”

Permission granted, you wasted no time before crashing over the edge with a sharp cry, a nonsensical noise barely recognizable as the other woman’s name.

Your legs gave out beneath you as you came but, before you could fall to the floor, her free arm was wrapping around your waist, holding you steady as your orgasm overwhelmed you, cunt clamping around her long fingers and holding them in place. Leila couldn’t help but release a little sound of her own at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around her fingers, imagination conjuring images of what it would be like to have you all to herself for much longer, spread out and helpless in her bed.

“R-Really am sorry,” you whispered, clinging to her shoulders as the aftershocks began to fade.

“Shh, pretty girl,” she cooed, banishing her fantasies for a moment in order to see to you, tone markedly different from the one she had used when she first cornered you against the wall, what seemed like an eternity ago.

“It’s okay. Don’t you worry about it. It’s all fine, I promise. It barely even hurts anymore.”

You sighed in relief, embracing the feeling of her arms around you as she worked her fingers free, leaving you empty as she pulled your shorts and damp panties back into place.

“Besides,” said Leila, grinning as she glanced at her glistening fingers. “I think you more than made up for it.”

Your post-orgasm haze wearing off, the furious blush returned to your cheeks. She chuckled, shaking her head.

“And now that you have… I don’t suppose you’d let me buy you a drink?”

It was your turn to burst out laughing, first at the audacity of the question and then at the slightly wounded look that appeared on the defender’s face at your reaction.

Crouching down to pick up a stray hair elastic and sliding it around your wrist, you met her eyes and gave her a bright grin and a nod.

“You know,” you said. “This may be the strangest way anyone’s ever asked me out.”

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thatsatricky1 · 2 months

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𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || Prologue

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Abandoned. After going through hell and back together, she was left there to fend for herself. Y/n felt as though they’d left her in the dust at the facility. A facility that had taken young gifted children raising them in secret. The eight of them had been taken as children and grown up together at the facility and just when it they had the chance of escaping they made one crucial mistake, leaving her behind in the dust. One big mistake they hadn’t forgiven themselves for, and she would make sure they’d never forget it.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Slight gore, mentions of blood, mentions of being wounded, angst, abandonment.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,4k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

“Run Donghyuck!”

“What do you think I’m doing, strolling through the garden?” Donghyuck replied sharply out of breath as he ran as fast as he could, adrenaline filling his body making him unaware of the stinging feeling in his feet. Jaemin a few paces ahead of him.

Donghyuck skidded to a stop once he finally saw everyone in front of him. Breathing heavily as his eyes scanned over the familiar faces, relief dripping from him but his breath that he finally was catching back was stolen again, eyes widening in realisation.

“Where’s Y/n?!” He barely managed to get the question out from how he was trying to catch his breath back.

“She is coming, don't worry we have one more minute before they start looking for us.” Mark replied, grabbing Donghyuck’s hand, tugging him over to the rest of the group waiting at the mahogany wooden door.

“No this isn’t right, she should have gotten here first.” Donghyuck gasped out in between sucking air greedily back into his body that was desperate for oxygen.

“The security around her hall was timed differently than usual, they changed the rotation early.” Jaemin replied, also heaving in breaths. The whole group needed to gain their breath back.

Renjun winced while checking his pocket watch again, thirty seconds had past, eyes looking down the dark corridor, hearing the blood pulsing behind his ears like a drum.

”Thirty more seconds.” Renjun barely managed to get out.

They’d said from the start that no one would be left behind. The eight of them against the world if they had too. But it had taken months to plan this escape and it looked like one random security route change up would ruin that.

The boys share a glance with each other before Jeno steps to the front deciding something that would change their future.

“We need to leave now.”

“What no. Fuck no. We wait.” Jaemin disturbed as he shook head, eyes widening at Jeno’s words.

“Ten seconds.” Renjun spoke only focusing on his pocket watch hand gripping it tight.

“Our time is limited Jaemin, we can’t wait anymore. She would want us to escape even if she doesn’t get out.” Jeno stressed out grabbing his hair with both hands tugging on it.

Jeno didn’t want to leave her behind but what other option did they have. Stay and continue suffering? They had all been waiting years to get away from the hell hole they were trapped in.

“Jeno is right, there’s no time left.” Mark managed to say even if every fiber of his being didn’t want to admit it.

“Are you out of your mind?” Donghyuck says moving to tug at Mark’s vest slightly red in the face whether from the running or anger no one could tell, most likely both.

“Five seconds.”

“We get it!” Donghyuck spat at Renjun who was still insistently calling out the time left before they really had to go unless they wanted to be stuck there.

“Donghyuck we need to go, she’ll understand.” Mark cut his yelling off lest they get any unwanted attention grabbing his friend's face, cupping his jaw in his hands to face him. Mark noticed the tears welling in his friend's eyes.

”Promise. Promise me that she’ll understand.” Donghyuck all but begged.

“I… I promise.” Mark managed to grit out through clenched teeth.

Mark letting go of Donghyucks face when he finally nodded back.

“Will she be okay?” Jisung finally spoke up, unlike the others who held back tears, his were free flowing.

“Y/n is tough, she’ll be okay Jisung.” Jeno reassured with a tight lipped smile, not sure if he was trying to convince Jisung or himself.

“She will be okay.” Chenle spoke up with a determined look. Out of all of them, Y/n was always the one to keep it together.

“Waiting period is over.” Renjun stated putting away his pocket watch, lip quivering as he watched the hallway in front of them. Silence, with no familiar footsteps coming towards them anytime soon.

Flashes of red neon hued lights flashing on and off. A blaring alarm ringing through the air signally something was wrong in the facility. An attempted escape.

Y/n didn’t know what to focus on. The burning feeling all over her body, muscles aching and screaming for a break, throat dry and swollen from air being swallowed down greedily and being exhaled too fast, blood thumping and rushing. Not to mention the gushing wound on her side.

The stomping of boots fading in the background as she made pace. Always having been the fastest, something the facility took pride in but not at this moment.

For the first time in what felt like days, weeks even she smiled. A smile of relief. Her freedom, her boys freedom so close she could touch it. Somehow the hope in her stomach pushed her faster as she bounded down the second last hallway. Hand still pushing pressure into the side of her torso.

“I’m coming! Boys I’m nearly there!” Y/n let the scream ripple out her dry cracked lips, not needing to be quiet as she was already being chased down. By the ones who’d taken her in the first place.

Taking a sharp right, managing to keep her footing as she raced across the sterile white tiles bare feet staining the floor red in her wake. Seeing the dark mahogany door now.

Her smile dropped into a frown of confusion as she raced down it, not seeing a person in sight. Not the seven figures she’d been expecting to be there. Skidding to a stop a few steps away from the door, that had been left ajar.

Her breathing haggered as she stood wobbling, balance unstable as her eyes trained on the door. Trying to wrap her head around the sight before her. Though it was plain and simple to connect the dots, her mind could and would not accept the sight.

Hand leaving her side slipping away from her gushing wound, slow droplets of blood rolling down her paling hand, falling down onto the once clean white tiles below her.

”No.” Her whisper lost between the loud blaring alarm.

Her figure disappears into the darkness only to reappear every few seconds in the floodlights of red coming from the lights. Swaying slightly now yet her eyes stayed trained on the door, the one that led to her escape.

Her body tried to take a steady deep inhale through her nose but a sudden blinding pain caught her off guard spreading through her head, time seemingly slowing down as her sight seemed to be going sideways.

Y/n not even noticing it wasn’t just her sight going sideways but her body that collapses down onto the ground. A figure behind her being revealed not much older than herself as he stood there eyes wide gazing down at her, his grip on the metal pipe in his hand tighter if possible.

Her body thumped onto the ground in a heap, a mess. Eye glazed over with unshed tears, pain radiating through her. Not just physically but from deep within her.

“Good job Jeongin, very well done my boy.” An older man’s voice cut through the loud alarms.

Y/n not being able to hear it, everything sounding drowned, like she was underwater. She laid there unfocused eyes still staring at that mahogany door from where she was on the floor.

“I told you not to harm my girl, only to detain her!” The older man's voice sounded angry now yelling at people in the distance finally having caught up a bit too late to her.

“Get her to the medical ward, don’t harm her any further or you’ll all be missing a hand as punishment. We’ve already lost seven of my boys, my girl isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.”

Y/n barely felt the touches against her body, not even the hand that pressed tightly against her wounded side. Her body being dragged up, held against someone as they started walking away from the door.

Her hand just barely managed to lift weakly up in the direction of the wooden door that was slowly getting further away.

‘They left me.’ Was all that ran through her head, hand falling limp, her eyes finally failing her as her eyelids felt too heavy to keep open, the pressure of her eyes closing finally letting a tear slip past rolling down her cheek.

They left me.

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

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koisuko · 10 days

Note

Hello, I was wondering if you would write a romantic Smoke x female reader, about Smoke trains the reader self defense but they start to flirt and become handy with each other?

Yesss, more Tomas lovers!

Tw: handsy behavior, flirtation, may contain lewd suggestions, fem reader, no use of y/n

You are far from incapable of taking care of yourself, and Tomas knew that. But having a boyfriend who was both a ninja, and had ninja enemies, he was worried for your safety. Often times, his mind would run wild with ‘what if’ questions. ‘What if I’m not there to save her’ ‘what if something happens to her’ ‘what if she gets taken, or worse’ and many more. So, to set his mind at ease, you agreed to train with him and learn some basic self defense. It couldn’t hurt to learn something new, and maybe you’ll be able to fight along side him…someday.

Every morning, you two would wake up early to have the training grounds to yourselves. Tomas wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable, and wouldn’t be shy or embarrassed if you made a mistake in front of others. Plus, you two would have alone time to be yourselves without any on lookers giving awkward side-eyes.

Today, training was done a little bit earlier than usual. The moon hung high over the sky, bathing the courtyard in an almost ethereal glow. The calls of night life offered a backdrop to the sounds of grunts and exerted breaths. “Good, again.” Tomas repeated, repositioning himself opposite of you with a twirl of his Karambit. Blankets of heavy smoke swirled around his figure, moving to settle beside him on either side. You nod, careful to perfect your defensive stance. The role was simple, Tomas wouldn’t go easy on you, as promised, and you would work on your defense as if against a real enemy. “Remember,” he spoke, “don’t be afraid to hit me, okay?” You hesitated at first, but nod reluctantly. With the confirmation out of the way, he charged at you, running low with his karambit held at his side. You tried your best to keep your confidence, but seeing him run at you was intimidating, causing your stance to falter and allowing him an opening to attack. Before long, your back collided harshly against the ground. The sheer velocity nearly knocking the wind out of you. Tomas kept you beneath him with his thighs firmly closed around you, forcefully keeping your arms at your side. His arms caged either side of your head, and the close proximity of his lips to yours was making you blush. "Do not hesitate, be sure of your actions or you create an opening for attack." His words bounced off the skin of your cheek. The best part of this whole situation, he seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

He paused in his movements, giving you a questioning look. His head tilted to the side as his eyes trail along the contours of your face. He was confused, concerned even, at the red hue swallowing your cheeks and your parting lips gasping for air. “What’s wrong?” Tomas asked, his brows knitted together. The only response you could give, was a pathetic squeak, squirming beneath him while turning your face away to provide at least some space between the two of you. To your surprise, he grasped the base of your jaw, turning your gaze to meet his once again. “Do you need a break?” He was still blissfully unaware, the stupid look of concern still written on his features. “I-I’m fine, Tomas,” you replied. Tomas loosened the pressure of his thighs on your body, giving you the prime opportunity to use your weight and strength to reverse the roles. With a thud and a grunt, he was now beneath you, your face still flush with embarrassment. Tomas was surprised, is eyes shot wide from the sudden turn of events. “V-very good, you did well!” He blushed at the sudden power you had, his stutter causing you to giggle in response. “I think I like you better from this angle,” you smirked, placing a hand on his chest. You pushed yourself up, reaching out to help him. You could feel the slick sweat of his palms between your clasped hands. He was nervous, in a good way of course. Tomas unknowingly had a love struck smile on his face, hearts nearly visible in his pupils. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Tomas took a deep breath to gather courage before approaching, gingerly placing a hand on your waist, “you did well today.” For a split second, he admired the shape of you, every bump and curve that created you. His eyes trailed back up to meet yours with a tender smile. “Let’s get some rest.”

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nicxl333 · 9 months

Text

SEPARATE WAYS— GETO SUGURU X FEM!READER

summary: why should he stay with you if you don’t see his way of thinking?

content: fluff, angst, teen!geto, teen!gojo

i won’t lie to you, i didn’t proof read this so mistakes are probably imminent

life used to be so good. specifically when geto asked you out during second year at jujutsu high.

“suguru just do it you pussy. too afraid she’ll say no?”

“stop pestering me satoru. i don’t want to hear shit from someone who can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a week.”

“at least i get girls. can you say the same, loner?”

“you know, i’d insult you, but i’d have to explain it to you after, so forget it.”

gojo held his hands up in defeat, knowing arguing would get him nowhere.

“i’m just saying, she won’t stay on the market forever. who knows, maybe i’ll sweep her off her feet one day.”

and he walked off.

it had been months of geto having a never ending crush on you. the more he saw you the worse it got. not to mention the times you’d be partnered up on missions together. the care you held for his wellbeing especially when he was injured made his heart swell, healed his wounds ten times better than your RCT could ever hope to.

he swore to himself day by day that he’d eventually grow a pair and ask you out. maybe to a movie or a picnic. something romantic where he could truly show you the best version of himself. but when the time would come he would freeze, the common fear of rejection weighing over his body, holding his tongue down.

until he saw gojo actually making a move on you by the classroom door one day, his hand positioned above your head while your back was stood against the wall.

fuck no. fat chance in hell he’d let you be taken from him by the likes of gojo. of all people.

4 long strides was all it took for him to be standing adjacent to you. you turned from gojo to look at his agitated face, staring down gojo. if looks could kill, consider gojo in the morgue.

“oh, suguru, did you need me for something? guess you can give me those class notes some other time then y/n.”

fucking gojo, of course he’d pull some stunt like this.

although geto guessed that did give him the push he needed. actually seeing the possibility of you being taken scared him into actually doing something for once.

“not you dimwit, i need to talk to y/n.”

your eyes widened at this. what could he possibly need you for? little did he know you also had a devastatingly abnormal crush on him too, and you didn’t know if you could handle the proximity as it was, with him towering over you like that.

gojo held out his arms in faux devastation.

“alas, let me go venture for someone who truly cares.” he then winked at you.

trust gojo to be fucking obvious.

it was then brought to geto’s attention it was just him and you.

shit. he’d actually have to say something.

“so. y/n, i was… well i wanted to know if-”

fucking hell was this going well.

you tilted your head at him stumbling over his words. what happened to the confident, headstrong guy you knew and loved relatively liked?

“suguru, are you okay?”

fuuuck. he could’ve actually melted at you saying his name. your voice was so soft and soothing. he had to have you now.

“y/n. i need you to know something. i like you. like really badly. you’re constantly on my mind all day and i wouldn’t want anyone else if they’re not you. i understand if you don’t feel the same and we could just continue as before…”

while he was rambling you stood there shocked at his confession. you couldn’t believe he liked you back this whole time. it almost felt too easy.

“suguru.”

nothing. he was still rambling on. it seemed he was lost at this point. so you did what seemed right.

he paused heavily after feeling a pair of soft, cushioned lips against his own.

you were kissing him? did this mean you felt the same way?

he paused mid sentence and kissed you back, hands gently gripping your waist. you pulled his hair out of its bun and tangled your fingers in his strands, deepening the kiss.

sadly, breathing is a mandatory thing so the both of you eventually pulled back for air.

“does that answer your question?”

“wow. um…yeah definitely.” he placed his hand behind his head before continuing;

“i want to ask you right though, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?”

you smiled at him brightly, bringing him into a tight hug.

“of course i would.”

—

soon enough one date turned into 3, and that evening, on top of a random skyscraper turned picnic setting, you became geto’s official girlfriend.

everything ran smooth, both parties were happy, and life was good.

until it wasn’t.

when the star plasma vessel riko died, geto’s persona changed. you noticed throughout the year you were dating how he changed, becoming more and more distant by the day, until the geto you once knew and loved was once again no more, only this time in a much more sour light.

nevertheless you stuck by him. 2 long years, hoping that he’d one day wake up and things would return back to normal.

that worked, right up until he grew tired of you. endless arguments and neglect on his part was bound to reach it’s breaking point.

“suguru please, i can’t keep doing this with you anymore. have you just forgotten about everyone who’s ever cared about you. what about satoru? what about me?”

he spared you one glance before turning his head back towards the end of the room.

“tell me this y/n, do you follow my beliefs? do you believe just as much as i do that humanity is scum and deserves to cease to exist?”

“suguru you know just as well as i do that you’re alone in that belief.”

he came closer, lifting your chin up with two fingers so he could look directly into your eyes, his own cold and devoid of emotion.

“so why am i wasting my time with you then?”

your eyes widened. as much as he had turned into a national dickhead, up till now he had never made it seem like your relationship was pointless.

he smirked at you and dropped his fingers from your chin, your head falling forward with them.

“let’s be clear y/n, until you can see it in yourself to take up my values, consider us done. don’t come looking for me. it won’t be friendly as it is now.”

you couldn’t do anything but stand there, confused how things came to be. one thing was evident though. geto wouldn’t change his mind. and with how he just disrespected you, you were reluctant to stay in his presence any longer.

and so, with a heavy heart and desolate mood, you walked away.

away from him and your crumbling relationship.

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blueparadis · 1 year

Text

❝ LITTLE MISTAKE ❞ + BAIZHU !

+. precis –› one accident leads to another. when his apprentice accidentally drank an experimental sample of love potion, baizhu had no other choice than to take care of her. +. tags –› f!reader × service!dom!baizhu ; óral acts, xplícít content, dûbçôn, possessiveness, praising, somnophilia. | redirect to blog navigation. | wc ~ 0.8k.

The search for immortality has been less boring since the owner of Bubu pharmacy has taken in an apprentice a month ago. She has been a ‘lucky charm’ for him, as claimed by his other staff and clients. Rumor has it that Baizhu is one step closer to finding the elixir of immortality , a million steps forward abandoning the humanity. But no one knows the exact details. They all are just rumors and only he alone knows the downfall of searching something non-existent, like chasing a mirage. But, he would be wrong if he denied how Bubu Pharmacy has become more lively than before since the advent of this new apprentice, his favourite among all those who applied before.

But today he is resting, even though it is not an official holiday. Besides, when did exactly a medical practitioner ever get a holiday? The answer is never. They are always needed. His favourite apprentice is sick and asleep. Perhaps, her harbouring feelings for him might not have gone unnoticed as she thought it would be.

Baizhu released a breath of ease watching her asleep in his chambers.

He sat at the edge of the bed checking her pulse, the rise and fall of her chest seems quite normal. He does not understand why would she act the way she did this morning — getting flustered while talking to him, avoid making eye contact with him, being absent minded when Baizhu is instructing her and her actions being tipsy once in a while. He has never seen her in such a distorted zone. Perhaps, today's letter from Mondstadt did not bring a good news or perhaps. . .

A pair of amber eyes which is only vividly awake among the two lands on a broken empty vile discarded at the corner of the room. He inspects it, holding it the transperant cylindrical vile against the light and then, smelling the vile from a distance so that it does not infect him too. As soon as he gets a whiff of a sweet aroma corroding his nostrils all her actions that was confusing him became crystal clear through and through. It was some sort of aphrodisiac with a mixture of philtre, commonly known as, love potion. Such products are forbidden in Liyue but Baizhu knew better than anyone the potential it had in bootleg markets and if sold to a person of high authority, it could earn them a fortune for decades, if not more so.

But, that is not what angers him.

His jaw hardens, eyes flare up in disappointment and eyebrows become conjested. It is her who makes him that way, it is her behaviour of not taking any antidote for it. Moreover, how did she let this kind of blunder happen? Even if had happened by accident, why would not she trust him enough to ask for antidote? Maybe she wanted one for him too.

Baizhu hears her roll over the bed, and when he looks at her again all his anger washes away. It has been five hours since she is asleep and it would take another hour to wear off the effect of it completely. Baizhu looks for another vile in the room and he finds none. He does not understand why he feels so relieved knowing that his favourite apprentice was just experimenting or making some for a client, not actually intending to flee with her lover.

You woke up sometime at night to warm pants against the shell of your ear and shallow thrusts against your rear that caused your entire body to go rigid in distress. Blinking away your sleep, you desperately took in your surroundings illuminated by the city lights streaming in from the windows across from where you lay.

The tall windows that made up an entire wall were the same ones you often gazed out of to watch the cloud formations pass by in the sky. A wave of relief washed over and you relaxed when you recognized your surroundings as your bedroom–at least until the hand draped over your waist pulled up your nightgown and something hot and pulsating pushed between your legs.

“Did I wake you?” Baizhu’s shrill firm voice echoed into your ear. “Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn’t stop thinking about how good you were the other day. Tending to patients, keeping up a hopeful smile, assuring them they're going to be alright— you're going to be a good doctor, a really good one. It makes me happy.” one of his arms flew over your eyes covering them as he kept his motion steady. “easy girl. Easy. You're doing great,” he rasps against your ears.

The contradicting emotions whenever Baizhu became overly affectionate with you rose to the surface when he buried his face in the crook of your neck with his cock rubbing against your clothed slit. Your skin eventually erupted in goosebumps and desire pooled between your legs. They were the tell-tale signs that your body wanted him to breach the barrier of professional relationship and take you the way you knew he wanted. Your boos firmly held your cheeks and suckled onto your lips as his hands cupped your breasts. “Don’t you taste divine?” he cooed with lustful eyes thrusting his hips against yours whilst massaging your breasts. You nod, your hands involuntarily move over his.

Yet, your knee-jerk reaction to all of his inappropriate attention was fear and repulsion. Your body never failed to stiffen and tremble until he dispelled those negative emotions during your time with him, locked in your room and away from the other’s prying eyes. Your boss’s words, which could cut you down and lift you up all in a single breath, assured you of the normalcy of your intimate relationship with him. Your boss’s touches, that struck and soothed in the same spots, coaxed from your body the reactions he wanted—No, your true reactions as he would remind you time and time again.

And those true reactions were what had you moving your hips in tune with his. Those reassurances that your relationship was the same as it always been had you declaring your love for him over and over again. Because besides your certificate of recommendation, the only thing you could recall amidst the thick fog that permeated your brain was the compulsory need to make your boss happy. only then, you could receive what he was trying to achieve, only then.

@tokyometronetwork

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 2 months

Text

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Clumsy Office Intern

ReaderxGetoxNanamixGojoxShoko.

Follow up to this with dubcon Sukuna x reader, find it here.

This is disgusting filthy smut but also a full fantasy. I do not endorse such behaviour. Colleagues should help each other but not like this. It is wholly imaginary and such occurences should remain in fanfiction and porn and these biomes only.

Thank you for your consideration. Also Sukuna has blue balls here.

A big thank you to @ominous-meme for proof reading and beta reading. Love you, you evil bastard.

Silly little new intern at the office… Somehow things just always went awry when you were involved. Those papers that went missing; the printer jamming; that time you tripped and dropped coffee all over the break room floor. Forgetting to submit your paperwork and delaying the production pipeline…

So very clumsy, yet so eager to please. A cute little thing running around the office, your tight blue skirt hugging the curves of your ass. The billowy cream blouse you kept loosely tucked so it could hang and cover your pudgy belly. Your hair falling down your back in a pretty curtain. Trying so very hard to make up for all the teeny mistakes and accidents only to cause more as you go. So why weren't you fired yet?

Well, simply because your seniors covered for you. After all, letting such a cute little thing slip out of their hands wasn't what they wanted at all.

So Satoru helped you look for the missing papers, Suguru brought the mop out to clean the spill, Shoko showed you just where you could tap the printer to encourage it to move along and Kento – he was the worst of the lot – took the blame for you, not submitting your paperwork saying the task he gave you must have taken precedence in your mind and so he should have been clearer with you.

So when your boss yelled at you two it was Kento who took most of it, much to your embarrassment. But he did so happily – after all, he knew you would be making it up to them.

So now there you were in Shoko’s house, supposedly for karaoke, songs long forgotten and all of you with enough alcohol in you to guarantee a wicked hangover in the morning. And you were convinced that the best way to repay your kind senpais was with your sweet plush body.

Somehow you had been pulled onto Kento’s lap, back to him – “You were unsteady and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.” His hands that had started out resting on either side of your waist had slowly inched their way up to knead your breasts over the thin fabric of your blouse. Satoru – having long forgotten any sense of personal space – had his lips on the curve of your neck gently biting and sucking at the skin. Below, Shoko and Suguru worked together. While Shoko lifted your skirt and spread your legs, Suguru left a trail of soft kisses down the length of your inner thigh, creeping towards your panties, where you could feel yourself getting wetter.

A hand reached into your panties and you heard Kento’s deep voice rumbling in your ear. “Feeling good, beautiful? Would you like it if Geto-senpai was doing a little more?”

You nodded blushing like a tomato. Satoru, feeling left out, started tugging at your tucked blouse, still nuzzling into your neck.

You could feel his thick cock pressing against your thigh and he whined, “You smell so fuckin’ good my lil’ intern…Delectable…You should taste her Shoko…”

The woman’s wet tongue licked a stripe up the other side of your neck, landing at your ear where she gently bit your earlobe and began to suck.

All the attention was making a warmth bloom in your abdomen that slowly creeped down to your panties, where Suguru had found a home, laying his head on your thighs and nibbling and sucking at the skin.

Shoko pushed your skirt high, bunching it around your waist. Her fingers gently circled your clit, taking care not to touch it directly. And Satoru had given up on untucking your blouse and simply got Kento to unbutton it for him instead. Your once saviour now attacked your neck with fervour, grinding his hard cock against your ass, and Satoru’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto yours as he kissed his way up your stomach and pulled down a bra cup to take your pebbled nipple between his lips.

A hiss escaped your teeth as you felt him lightly bite down on it and simultaneously, Shoko pushed your panties aside for a long wet tongue to prod at your core. “Aahh- Geto-senpai!” You couldn't help but squeal, as his tongue explored the sensitive flesh around your pussy.

You felt the other cup of your bra being pulled down too as Shoko began to kiss and lick at the erect nipple. You wanted to move. To touch them. To feel them the way they were feeling you. But both Satoru and Shoko had effectively pinned your arms against the couch.

Satoru’s eyes reflected the ever changing light from the autoplaying karaoke videos, glinting mischievously. You had never felt so many hands on you. Despite experimenting in college, you'd been limited to one threesome at best. Every touch lit a fire under your skin.

Below you Kento’s breathing was getting heavier; it was almost like grunting now. He was the only one who was trapped, unable to work you, save for softly thrusting up into your ass, and the teasing was getting to be unbearable.

A single look at Shoko had her pull away the duo from you for a second and she lifted you from Kento’s lap and placed her lips on yours, soft and tasting of cigarettes. You lapped at her tongue gingerly, placing your hands on her breasts. Kento took the chance to unbutton his shirt and unzip his work slacks to pull out his cock from its restraint. Then he called to you, “Do you want to sit on it?”

Your wide eyes and enthusiastic response made them all chuckle. Such a sweet little intern; of course they wanted to help you out. No other office should have a perfect little girl like you. And the mistakes – those could be easily handled with time.

You went over to Kento who undid your skirt and tugged down your panties. You were going to straddle him face-to-face but the man stopped you. “Your senpais would like to see every little expression you make while I fuck you on my cock, baby girl. Is that okay?” You nodded.

Careful not to hurt either of you, you sank onto the thick girthy member standing at attention. Satoru and Suguru watched you with bated breath as you took all of Kento’s length, palming their own cocks over their pants. Kento allowed you to take the lead. His large hands splayed out over your thighs offered the support you would need. You were already so wet but he was large; filling you up well.

You began to move, testing the waters; all the grinding had left Kento sensitive, and he growled spurring you on even more. “Fuck- just like that baby girl!” Shoko kneeled in front of the two of you, splaying her tongue out onto your clit and letting you rock yourself on her tongue.

You felt so stretched, about to snap at any moment. Kento pulled your blouse off your shoulders and unhooked your bra, now thrusting up into you himself. Shoko reached up to knead your soft breast once again, rubbing down the bites previously left by Satoru; whom your moans proved to be too much for. Ridding himself of his trousers he took your hand that had found its way to Shoko’s head tugging on her hair and made you wrap it around his length; long and slowly getting harder.

From the other side Suguru took the opportunity to squeeze your cheeks to open your mouth and you hungrily swallowed his cock. Small twitches let you on to how much he was enjoying it. “So fukin’ good baby,” he moaned, carding his fingers through your hair.

The coil in your stomach began to tighten, every feeling blurring into one. Kento’s voice cut through the heady moans and gasps; he seemed to be having trouble forming words too. “I’m close. You feel so good around me baby girl. Keep fucking bouncing like that.” There were hands on you – you didn’t know whose – feeling up and down rubbing you. Shoko’s tongue working over your clit. A mouth on your tit sucking and nibbling as your hand stroked Satoru hard and fast now. He was the first to spill, sticky white ropes painting your hand as he twitched and emptied his release, making a mess around you. Your release chased right after, and you threw your head back in a cry, vision going white as you came sloppily onto Shoko’s tongue, creaming around Kento’s cock.

Kento and Suguru pulled out of you, still intact, and Shoko smirked at the men from between your legs. “I say we take this to the bedroom, don’t you think so, gentlemen?”

Your eyes widened, and Shoko laughed, “Surely you didn’t think we’d be done so quickly…”

On Monday, when Sukuna Ryomen entered the office, sighing at another week of work, his eyes fell on your lovely form. As your boss, he knew there were certain boundaries he shouldn’t cross but looking wouldn’t be any harm…or so he told himself. He noticed, however, that your eyes never left your four coworkers. If only he had known just how his team had spent their weekend …

AN: hi. Just wanted to say this was inspired by this uquiz result I got. I have no recollection of what the quiz was about nor how to get back there so oops. But I had this screenshot saved and thought up this ridiculous scenario.

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sukunastoy · 1 year

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True Form Sukuna Comfort Fic

Just something short and sweet with TF Sukuna. ♥️

(This is a re submission, testing out my tags and things cause I was hidden/shadowbanned or something and seeing if the problem has been resolved yet. ✨)

"Oh god, h-he'll kill me!"

"He isn't going to kill you...I promise. This is not anything that would need such a violent reaction." You said calmly to the maid while helping her pick up the shattered pieces of a vase that had sat in the entrance of The King's estate.

Maybe once upon a time, that was something these maids needed to worry about, but ever since your arrival, it seemed to be a distant fear in the minds of most.

You had no say in the matter, being surrendered as a peace offering from your clan. Initially, you were assumed to be a sacrifice, killed upon your arrival for being the first and only daughter of your clan leader. But, to keep the King from laying waste to everyone, something precious and of value was demanded instead, and it happened to be you. He took you as his bride, but there wasn't any love involved. It was merely an insult to your sorcerer clan family.

There were no sons to take your father's place, and the bloodline would have continued with you; had you taken someone else's hand in marriage- but the King made sure to keep that from happening.

You accepted your new role with grace, the knowledge of keeping your clan safe being a stronghold in your emotions and reasonings. However, what happened after you got here was nothing you could have expected. The King wasn't prepared to put you on a spike or burn you alive to make a statement. He demanded you stay within his kingdom and serve him alongside the other maids and workers of his estate. You did your duty, being on your hands and knees scrubbing floors, tending the gardens, washing clothes in the river, and even doing other things the King hadn't mentioned you needed to do.

You had fresh flowers adorning the halls and rooms of his estate, making sure they were always vibrant and blossoming. You delegated some of the maids what tasks to do, and even took on some of the chores they struggled to accomplish out of fear. Someone had to help prepare the Kings meals, and it wasn't a secret what those meals sometimes consisted of...

It wasn't your business to ask where some of these meals came from, so you prepared them to the best of your ability. The King wouldn't dismiss you from the table until he was finished, but you remained at his side patiently. Despite working alongside other maids and servants, they still treated you with respect. You were still the Kings bride after all.

Once you finished helping the maid pick up all the pieces of the vase, someone caught her eye. You knew exactly who it was when she dropped her hands and knees in a subservient bow, body trembling in worry.

"M-my King, I-I deeply a-apologize for m-my careless actions!"

Turning to stand up fully in-front of the maid while looking at your husband, you smiled at him gently.

"It was a mistake, nothing that isn't fixable." You said softly while taking one of his large hands into yours. The number of lives his hands had claimed wasn't even alarming at this point. You could feel his muscles relax as you brought the warm palm to your cheek, kissing the heel of his thumb in the process.

"You intend to fix it yourself, then?" That deep, timbre voice; though terrifying to many- soothed your soul in a way you couldn't even begin to describe.

"Of course, my King." You promised, smiling up at him while placing your hand over his against your face. Knowing he could crush your entire skull with just a swift grip made this warm palm all the more comforting in an odd way.

And it was because you knew he wouldn't ever do such a thing...at least not to you. His intimidating gaze shifted from the maid to you, and watching those crimson hues give up on their anger made you caress his hand tenderly.

"Then that is what I expect." He commanded, the pad of his thumb ever so briefly smoothing under your eye before pulling away. You gave a slight bow of respect before his departure and then turned back to the maid, who was still trembling with her face pressed into the tatami mats.

"Come on; we'll fix it together."

Joining your King later in the evening at the hot springs near his home, you remained on the ground at the edge, massaging his massive shoulders as he relaxed.

"I hope the end of this day is finding you well, my King." You spoke gently as your smaller hands worked into the muscles to relax him. He hummed in response, leaning his head back into your lap. A smile tugged at your lips while you looked down at him, hesitantly moving one of your hands to cup his cheek.

"Join me."

He finally said before lifting his head and moving forward into the water more, turning to watch you obey his order. You slightly laughed while swinging your legs into the water but hugged yourself in embarrassment. "You know I can't swim."

"Oh, come now, it's not that deep."

"My King, you're also much taller." You pointed out through a giggle, slowly swishing your legs in the water, enjoying the warmth surrounding them. Taking a moment to survey the large rocks beneath the surface, you shifted into the water, carefully holding onto anything you could to keep your footing. Before you got too far, you turned your back to Sukuna, removing your petite robe to lay on the ground at the water's edge. Honestly, the two of you had never spent any intimate moments together, and you hadn't been uncovered in his presence. But you knew better than completely submerging yourself in the water with clothing. Wrapping an arm across your chest, you turned and ventured toward the center where your husband was waiting. The water started to engulf you, and it got up to your shoulders before stopping, still a reasonable distance from him.

"All the way." He chuckled, able to stand in the deepest area with his chest still out of the water. Then, one of those large hands reached out toward you, and for a moment, you felt your face flush with a warmth that wasn't from the heat of the springs.

Quickly judging the distance, you shoved off the rock, flopping forward into the water without grace. You scrambled for his hand with both of yours, clinging to him desperately as you no longer felt the stone bottom under your feet. A cat being tossed in the water looked more elegant than you had at that moment, and the blush across your face proved your embarrassment.

Sputtering through the water splashed onto your face, you laughed while keeping both arms wrapped around his. Your feet held together against his thigh to keep you above the water enough, so you didn't feel like you were sinking in too much.

He smirked in humor while wrapping an arm around our waist, helping you stay afloat while he sank to be face level with you.

"I'm happy you're in a good mood." You smiled at him softly, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. "It brings me joy when you're pleased, my King..."

"What other things bring you joy?"

"Oh, it's not a concern...just so long as you are-"

He halted your words with a soft kiss on your lips, catching you off guard. Your eyes widened in shock and nervousness when your gaze was locked with his, unable to look away from those intense eyes. He stepped back slowly, sitting down and resting you upon his lap to face him. Your knees pressed upon his thighs, and once his lips separated from yours, you tucked your face into his neck, hiding bashfully. He's never displayed any form of affection...and this was so sudden. At the moment, you weren't sure how you felt about it.

You had gotten so comfortable with him over the time you'd spent at his side, but mainly you served him just as any maid had done.

"Why are you hiding?" He asked quietly, one of those enormous hands caressing our back ever so gently. The tips of his claws glided carefully along your skin, making you shudder in amazement to know he could honestly do whatever he wanted to you at any given moment. Yet, he refrained...

"I just wasn't expecting such a thing." You murmured with honesty, leaning back to address your King correctly.

"I know we're married, but It isn't for usual reasons...So I never imagined anything happening." Then, feeling one of his hands cup your cheek so tenderly, you leaned into it through comfort.

"Are you opposed to being my wife?"

"No, of course not. I was offered, but I still accepted your hand willingly and with the highest honor. The King of Curses keeping me at his side? Even if for your amusement, you've been so generous and kind to me. I couldn't even envision returning home or going elsewhere..."

Kneeling upon the lap of the most feared being in the known world brought a feeling into your heart you couldn't explain. His hands never held you in place against your will, and you never winced in fear when he spoke. You've seen him kill, seen him dispose of disobeying servants without a second thought, and you've even prepared some of the grotesque delicacies he enjoyed on occasion. But, you had a warm bed, food in your belly, a safe home, and even enough respect from your King to talk him down from discarding a maid for something trivial. The estate felt brighter the longer you were here, and the maids and other servants became less tense with each passing day. You fixed minor blemishes throughout his home, happily applying any skill you could where needed. This was your husband's home, but it was also your home, and you took pride in the care of it.

When Sukuna relaxed in the courtyard, you would tend to the gardens. Any fruit in nearby trees would also be picked and offered to your King. In the moments you sat on his lap and relaxed, you had never felt safer. Being in the arms of such a disaster would inflict pure trauma upon most. But it only brought you peace...as if you were being spared.

As your King pulled your body against him in the water, you whimpered softly for him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he embraced you, and you smiled fondly at the closeness.

That was the first time the two of you shared such a tender moment, and you cherished it closely. Your husband wasn't a man of many words or emotions, and you accepted that fact quickly. When he did decide to display affection towards you, it was such an honorable gift. Most of the chores you used to do were banned from you now, as the wife of Sukuna shouldn't be cleaning floors or cooking meals.

You still gathered flowers and pampered your King when you could, enjoying the good mood he'd be in from your simple actions. The maids and other servants would enjoy moments with you, as well as you talked to them throughout the day. You were surprised to find that many of them came from worse places, which is why they do their best for the King. Though Sukuna could be a terrifying monster, so long as they did everything they were supposed to do, he more or less left them alone. The ones who disregarded his rules and expectations were disposed of without hesitation. You knew he was very strict when you arrived but seeing him relax and ease up over time was comforting. Were you melting that ice around his cold heart so quickly? It almost felt wrong to take credit for it...

#Sukuna jjk #sukuna #Sukuna fluff #Sukuna smut #Ryoumen Sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader #true form sukuna #jjk

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ellebakers · 8 months

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☆ I know who you pretend I am | Part two

Criston Cole x reader

Part one

Summary : If Criston wants to play with you then you will play.

Warning(s) : Language, angst, smut as always :)

Tag list : @enchantedbones @whitejuliana1204

Stupid.

This is how you felt…

Criston had only played with you for few months, all just to get Rhaenyra back. He managed to get what he wanted, with an extra. You. he got you, naked, sweating and screaming his name.

How could you be so blind and stupid ? You had let your body speak and here is the result, you were heartbroken. You watched as the princess laughed at something he had just whispered to her, and as they rubbed the knife in the wound, your sister came over and sat down beside you.

"Can you tell me what's bothering you."

You didn't take your eyes off the pair as you exhaled sharply.

"What makes you think I'm bothered by something ?"

Alicent stroked your hair affectionately, drawing your gaze to her. "You haven't touched your plate since you arrived, and I noticed that you hadn't taken your eyes off the princess and Ser Criston."

You stiffened when she mentioned them. "I'm not really in the mood to party my dear sister."

Alicent crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair. "You know there's nothing between them, right ?"

You pretended not to understand when she glared at you. "Don't make the mistake of taking me for a simpleton y/n."

You sighed and turned to her. "I appreciate you worrying about me, but I'm fine. Now excuse me but I'm going to retire to my quarters, I'm tired."

Your sister opened her mouth to protest but you were already gone. What you didn't know is that Criston hadn't taken his eyes off you when you were leaving. He wondered why you hadn't spoken to him, why you hadn't played his little game.

After all, the last time you played this, he ended up with his cock buried inside you, and he was ready to do anything to start over.

Returning to your room you asked the guards not to allow any visitors, especially not Criston Cole.

The night was eventful, when you closed your eyes images of the princess and Criston came to your mind, which forced you to wake up.

As for the knight, the night was hectic too, he couldn't close his eyes, after you left the meal, he tried to visit you but the guards in front of your door informed him of your order, and to say he was disappointed would be an understatement.

The next day you did not leave your room, ordering that your meal be brought back to your room. It was out of the question for you to see a certain person.

It was late in the day when your sister came into your room, clearly upset. "Out."

You frowned, putting down the book you were reading quietly before she disturbed your calm.

"What ?"

"You heard me very well, I want you out of your room. I asked to get the horses ready, you and I are going for a ride , we have to talk."

"But-"

She pointed a dangerous index finger in your direction. "Your queen asked you something, you have to obey. Join me in the courtyard in five minutes."

She walked away, leaving you speechless. You had nothing against taking a walk with your older sister, what bothered you was that her protector would be there. Criston Cole.

But you knew better than to annoy Alicent, so you went to join her reluctantly.

One hour, it had been an hour since the ride had started and you hadn't spoken.

Alicent glanced behind her to make sure her protector wasn't hearing, then turned to you.

"For heaven's sake he can't hear us, could you please tell me what's going on between you two ?"

You groaned closing your eyes, this conversation was already giving you a headache. "Alicent, there is nothing between us."

She let out a cold laugh. "Obviously ! Even a blind man would see that there is something between you. For months you have been flirting, but since yesterday something has changed between you and I would like you to tell me about it."

You sighed and glanced at Criston. The poor man looked sad until he met your gaze and stiffened on his horse.

You looked at your impatient sister and threw your hands in surrender. "Fine. We have..."

Alicent frowned, confused. "Well finish your sentence."

"You know, we have.." You waved your hands to try to make her understand.

"Y/n, use words !"

"We slept together."

The redhead raised her eyebrows and a mischievous smile appeared on her face. "Finally ! Better late than never."

You gasped. "Alicent !"

Your reaction made your sister laugh. "Excuse me. It's just that you've been circling around each other for months, I'm surprised you haven't done it before."

You shook your head smiling, then the memory of Criston with the princess came back to you. "But he only used me to get Rhaenyra back."

Your sister laughed, offending you. "Thank you."

Once her giggle passed, she looked at you gently. "Y/n, you're smart, how can you believe such a thing. This man is in love with you."

"He's not in love with me. He just used me for his pleasure."

Alicent's gaze became sad. "Y/n, believe me, I know when a man uses a woman just for his pleasure and Criston doesn't. After you left last night, he followed you, and when your guardians refused him the acces I thought he was going crazy. He's been asking to see you all day. Do you know why I came to look for you ?"

You shook your head.

"I spoke with Rhaenyra and she told me that Ser Criston approached her yesterday to apologize, and to tell her that he had finally found love. With you."

You couldn't believe your ears. He loved you, and you had made unfounded accusations, the poor man had to suffer even more than you.

For his part, Criston was dying to know what you could be talking about with your sister, but your protector caught his attention. "She must be good."

Cole came back to earth and turned to Wilson.

"What are you talking about ?"

Your new protector was everything Criston hated, young and arrogant.

"Y/n, I said I heard her moan two nights ago, I wish I was the person she was with, she must be good."

Criston saw red. He placed his horse in front of Wilson's in order to block it. "What are you doing ?"

"How dare you talk about her like that. How dare you call her by her first name. I won't accept such disrespect."

Wilson laughed. "Am I dreaming ? You have feelings for her ! Was it you with her that night ? So she was good, right."

Criston took out his sword and placed it at Wilson's throat. The riot caught the attention of the two young women, causing them to stop.

"Is everything okay Ser Criston ?" Alicent Shouted.

"Yes my queen, go on your way, we are coming."

Once the horses were back on the road, the knight spoke in a menacing voice.

"If you talk about her like this again, or look at her in a way I don't like, I'll kill you. Am I clear ?"

Wilson nodded, Criston set off again and accelerated to join the two women. An hour later, you stop in a small clearing to take a break. As you sat down on the grass, Alicent faked a yawn.

"I'm exhausted. Ser Wilson, escort me back to the castle please."

All eyes fell on her, all surprised, you asked. "Alicent are you sure that-"

"I trust Ser Criston to protect you, and I know how much you love sunsets, so please stay here until you want to come back."

You felt Criston's gaze on you, you looked at him and smiled at him for the first time since yesterday. The man had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling like a child does at this interaction.

"Very well my sister, on your way. Ser Wilson, I trust you to take care of my sister."

Wilson nodded and the two set off again and after a few minutes you could hardly see them on the horizon.

Criston remained standing and danced gently from one foot to the other. "You can sit Ser Criston."

The man was not waiting and he settled down next to you. You remain silent for a moment, until the guilt settles in you.

"I'm sorry."

You looked up at Criston who was already looking at you. "I'm sorry for acting like this last night and today."

"Have I been bad ?" He asked you.

You frown "What ?"

"If you ignored me it's because I didn't satisfy you when we slept together, isn’t it ?"

It took you a few moments to understand what he had just said, but when his words took on meaning you grabbed his face in your hands.

"God no ! You were perfect. I ignored you because I was jealous."

A smile appeared on Criston's face as he gazed longingly at your lips. "Jealous ? Of whom ?"

You let go of his face and Criston thought he was dying. You groaned and looked away at the sunset. "Rhaenyra. I thought you used me just to get her."

It was his turn to grab your face. "I only want you."

He didn't wait and devoured your lips. The kiss was passionate and romantic, not like the first time, this time it was more intense. You knocked his armor. "Take that off." You whispered against his lips. He smiled and kissed you before pushing himself aside slightly and removing his armor. Once rid of all this scrap he took your face and kissed you again, this see he guided you and lay down on you. Your legs spread instinctively and placed themselves on each side of his hips, making your dress go up. He took the opportunity to move his hand up along your thigh. You moan softly as he kisses your neck.

"I can't stop thinking about you." He confessed as he kissed you on the way down.

He was kissing your body through the dress but it was enough to make you shiver.

"Your voice, your body."

He came between your thighs and placed a kiss on each thigh. Still looking at you lovingly he took off your underwear. "You haunt my thoughts every moment Y/n."

His words made you wet more and more and you needed him. "Please touch me." You begged him.

He didn't torture you any longer and he pressed his mouth against your pussy and he sucked it. You arched your back letting out a gasp.

His lips were infernal, torturing you and giving you pleasure at the same time, and every time you thought you had reached your maximum pleasure he alternated his movements just to prove you wrong.

As you felt the orgasm coming you stopped him. He looked at you in confusion, but when you tackled him to the ground and straddled him a smile gave way. You unzipped his pants and jerked him off to make him even harder even though he was already rock hard.

He grabbed your hips and moaned as you slowed your movements so he felt each movement more intensely.

"Y/n, I need to be inside you."

You leaned over and kissed him. "I don't want you to retire."

As you reinstalled yourself on him, taking a hold of his chest, he looked at you with lust. "You want me to cum inside you ?"

You nodded and impaled yourself on his hard member.

He groaned as you arched your back moaning louder. "Fuck, feels good."

He thought he came just seeing you desperate for his cock. You'll quicken your movements and moan louder and louder as he growls beastly. Criston slipped his hand between your thighs and played with your clit to make you cum.

You felt the orgasm coming as he moved to hit the spot that would make you see stars.

He rose slightly to undo the back of your dress in order to make it fall and have access to your breasts. He grabs one of your breasts and puts it in his mouth to suck on it, the sensation turning you on even more.

You stopped moving as your needs got dirtier. You didn't want him to make love to you anymore, you wanted him to fuck you, violently as you had seen him do to a whore a few months ago.

He looked at you questioningly as you undid your hair. "I don't want you to be soft."

Out of breath he frowned. "What ?"

"I want you to fuck me like you would fuck a whore."

"But-"

"I am all yours and I want you to do whatever you want with me. I want you to take me, like an animal."

Something in him changed, he lifted you up and slammed your belly against the ground, he lifted your dress on your hips and grabbed your hair in his fist. Without warning, he brutally penetrated you, making you scream with pleasure, then without even giving you time to adapt, he moved inside you harder and harder.

"You like it when I fuck you like a whore."

You couldn't speak, the only things that could come out of your mouth were moans.

"You're mine, I'm going to fuck you like that whenever I feel like it, you understood me."

"Yes." You managed to say between two moans.

He took you so that your ass is high and your face is flat on the ground.

Then he turned you around and blocked your hands on the ground with his, and his thrusts became more and more violent, he let go of one of your hands to lift your thigh and put it above his shoulder, this new position hit your point just right and as he played with your nipples you cum on his cock screaming, He watched his cock glisten with your juices and the image made him cum inside you.

He pulled back once certain that you had taken all of his seed and he rested his head on your chest to catch his breath.

That's how you fell asleep, serene and happy.

#ser criston cole #criston cole x reader #ser crispin #criston cole #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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ewanmitchelll · 4 months

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Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (XI): Haunted.

Imagine you are transported to the past… instants before the legendary battle between Aemond and his uncle Daemon Targaryen occurs. What will you do? Part II.

Warnings 1: smut, DRAMA, angst. But fluff endings of course.

Warnings 2: loosely based on “Outlander”.

Warnings 3: long post.

***

You and I walk a fragile line. I have known it all this time but I never thought I'd live to see it break. It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now…

You open your eyes and all you see is a different scenario. There are strange sounds in your surrounding, a mix of voices you cannot identify yet.

Nevertheless you take your time, pain reclaiming your body as you struggle to reclaim your conscience.

“Y/N! Oh my God, it’s really you! You have returned to us!”

You say nothing in turn, barely blinking. Just as you try to rise, you nearly drop again. Not because of the hurting in your lungs and ribs, but mainly due to the memories of happy days.

“She’s very disoriented”, perhaps it’s your friend saying, but you don’t recall it now, giving no importance as of yet to her.

“Can you actually blame her? She has been tossed in God knows what time and place in the past and here she is. One wonders what she went through.”

You remember his smile, the warmth of his body, and then… you recollect of your fall, of how you planned to tell him that you are pregnant. Now looking for signs that you may have miscarried, you somehow sense that you have not.

A brief relief that is, however, incapable of easing the pain you are now in.

“Margaery”, you say when recognizing the first voice. “Lyna.”

The two younger females, surrounded by two older women, breathe in relief and throw themselves around you. You cannot help but weep too, even though this meeting tastes bittersweet.

Keeping the heartbreaking ache for yourself, you try to concentrate in the present, paying no attention in the look of concern the elderly ladies give you.

But takes two minutes before you pull away from the embrace to throw up. Under the quizzical look of your friends, you dissimulate, saying:

“Time traveling does this to sensitive people.”

“Well, what do I know of the side effects of such a thing?”, says Margaery, pleased to make you smile.

“How long was I off?”, you ask as you finally stand and, to your surprise, there are but only your two closest friends and two old ladies.

“No more than a couple of days”, says Lina. “We told your aunt that you went traveling with that research group you were part of.”

“How convenient”, you say, appreciating their efforts. “But how did you…”

“She went after us”, says the elderly lady, who introduces herself as the Priestess of R’Hllor, an old and ancient faith of Westeros named Krysta. “Although there would little need to do so for we were informed of the awakening of the spell by the Lord of The Light.”

Her companion adds:

“The past is dark and full of terrors.”

“Full of terrors, indeed”, you remark without second thoughts. “But full of delights as well.”

At the memory of your beloved, his smile, his touch, his fierceness… your burst into tears.

***

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet and I can't trust anything now. And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake…

The rage Lord Aemond experiences is inexpressible. The one-eyed prince still rewinds in the back of his mind your fall, the fear and desperation in your gaze, how you cried out his name before disappearing out of his sight. What makes his good eye tear up is the memory of happiness in instances switched to the one of despair and desolation.

He lost you.

Because of his uncle, who, it seems, planned this vengeance for a long while.

The battle follows, despite your voice calling his name still howling in the back of his mind. His conscience subtly accuses him of letting you be taken away, in resulting in his early and unexpected widowhood.

Hatred thunders in his chest and Aemond screams against the storm. Vhagar’s follows, echoing her rider’s angst.

“Ah, nephew! One loss for another loss, is it not how it’s said? Or perhaps one eye for an eye? Which suits better?”, he can hear Daemon’s provocation through the electric curtain of air. “Lucerys shall be avenged! Likewise every family member your bloody house caused it!”

He doesn’t answer, instead pulling the reins of Vhagar, who now spit fire over Caraxes. But, faster in size and age, the red dragon flies away before diving to bite Vhagar once more.

“DRACARYS!”

Whoever cries out the order, matters not. Fire against fire results in blood. When a kin fights the other, they fall in disgrace before the Gods.

Dragons dance in a mortal beat. No good is found within the Prince’s heart. Both enemies are moved by vengeance, haunted by past mistakes, by wrong choices.

Can the situation be averted, though? The battle follows unpredictably, whirling violently around both princes.

But if Aemond cannot live with you, he will die dragging his beloved uncle down to the Seven Hells with him.

***

Carrying on like nothing has happened proves to be a really difficult task. The priestesses asked you many questions about the past and your interference in such events.

“If, however, R’Hollor wanted to send you there, a reason there is. Unknown is the purpose before our eyes, not least should it be questioned, though”, so you were told.

Your friends were eager to know about your adventures and you could only tell so far how it was to live amidst the royalty in the worst civil war Westeros went through.

However, the current days look terribly wrong to you. Everywhere you are reminded of him, your prince, the very one you’ve always disliked due to your historical studies at college and at school.

Here you are, driving to a lake house, accompanied by Margaery, who is, by all efforts, the one you’ve been the closest to… and who didn’t give you up during the moments you’ve been at your worse.

About a month has passed every since you fell back to your own days.

“By the melancholy you’ve been plagued to, I dare say this is more than living amidst the luxury and richness so characteristic of the nobility”, she says after a while.

From King’s Landing to the said lake house takes about three hours driving. But it’s been one since you both drove in silence.

“How obvious is that?”, you side smirk at Margaery, who smiles knowingly back.

“I just know you well, is all.”

Margaery waits. She gives you time, respecting your spiritual state at the moment, for which you are thankful for.

“You wouldn’t believe me…”

“My dear, I watched you disappear like wind blows away dust. You should by now I am not skeptical. Not anymore.”

Your fingers top at the driving wheel before you sigh. And then Margaery is told about the infamous rogue prince, Lord Aemond Targaryen.

***

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Something's gone terribly wrong. You're all I wanted…

Dragons dance still. Melody is painfully mixed to that sound of thunders. Eventually, however, one of the pair must fall. And all indicates that Lord Aemond is not getting his revenge this evening, which only fuels his anger.

Then a solution occurs him.

A mad one, perhaps, but his pride doesn’t wish to admit it. Like Vhagar, Aemond doesn’t leave a battle unless he’s the victor of it.

But now he’s losing, all he can think of is you. Haunted by memories that, until not so long ago, were the merriest he’s ever experienced, the silver haired male feels abandoned by all, a pawn of Gods to their disgraced game where he’s but a misfortuned man.

Aren’t we all?

A thought that occurs him when thinking of his mad sister and insane brother. His family, it appears, payed a high price for the crown. Now it costs all they have. And when remembering the hints you gave him…

Every hope dies. Agonizing, Lord Aemond regains his strength, but Daemon Targaryen outwits him. Therefore, the kinslayer is defeated.

***

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this. I thought I had you figured out. Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't turn back now, I'm haunted…

You stop driving in the road when an idea comes at you, that kind that doesn’t leave you rest easy unless you put it in practice.

“So you are telling me you are pregnant of a dead man?”, Margaery breaks the impulsivity that starts to rise in you when speaking after a long while in silence.

You laugh quietly.

“When you put things like that…”

“Well, this is a perspective one cannot unreason with”, she shrugs her shoulders, smiling at it. “But what then? This is a Targaryen child you are carrying in your belly. Do you consider the consequences of it?”

When seeing how pale you are, Margaery realizes that no, you haven’t considered that you are a carrying a pretender to the throne.

“No one needs to know, though”, she says. “The Queen has her heirs as you know.”

You turn at her, suddenly interested.

“I thought she was infertile? Has anything dramatically changed since I was tossed away?”

“No”, says Margaery. “I mean… Her nephew, son of the late prince Rhaegaer, is her husband. They are happily married, so it’s been said.”

You tilt your head, bearing a strange feeling.

“What prince Rhaegar’s son? His illegitimate son, a product of his liaison with Lady Lyanna of House Stark…?”

“Do you mean Jon Snow? Yes, he attends by Jaehaerys II now. He has a strong seed, so it’s been said, having given her some offspring.” And here she smirks in a gossiping manner.

“Ah”, you sigh in relief. “I thought something had been altered.”

But then you look miserable all the same because you know this means Aemond is dead. However… could have it been any different? It’s when you suddenly turn the wheel.

“Uh, my dear. What the hell do you think you are doing?”

You don’t tell her that you think you see him at times. That sometimes you have a glimpse of his face, an ethereal look of despair behind his one good eye as if he silently asks for help.

“Fuck it all”, you say. “I’m going back.”

“Going back where?”

“I cannot be haunted anymore”, you tell her and Margaery sees a mix of perseverance and stubbornness. “I will bring him here. I will bring him back.”

She shoots you a careful look.

“I admit I cannot fathom why on earth you’d do this to yourself, aware that modifying pieces of the past can alter the future. This is too dangerous. Think about your unborn child!”

This has the effect your friend desires, but you are still driving back on the road.

“I cannot give up on him, Margaery. I do not expect you to understand, but I know in my heart he’d not give up on me either.”

And we all know there is no remedy to stubbornness…

***

This is a race against the time. You come to figure it out that, funny as it may be, time works differently in past and present, mostly because Earth’s time works differently. Therefore, months you spent there by Aemond’s side meant you spent no more than a week or two disappeared.

Some part of you admonishes you for being reckless. You cannot simply take in consideration your desires, but the child whose life you must protect. The inheritance of Aemond’s love that will eventually grow and probably forced to live in secrecy, hiding away his legacy—even though with Aegon IV’s renowned productions of tons of illegitimate lines, nearly 90% of King Landing’s population bears some Targaryen blood.

But you want to save him. Like he saved you. Perhaps this is madness, but going back in time was an impossibility never before credited.

“I must try”, you tell her, or perhaps to convince yourself. “I just… must try.”

Margaery doesn’t say a word, rather instead supporting you, which you deeply appreciate.

“I’ll be here for you, regardless of your choices”, she says gently.

“I appreciate it”, you shoot her a thankful glance. “Truthfully I do.”

***

Oh, holding my breath. Won't see you again. Something keeps me holding on to nothing…

It’s cloudy and cold. Although it’s hardly compared to Winterfell’s winter or even that last winter whose scars are still there within you, it’s not warm nevertheless.

Wind howls as if it’s disdaining your attempts in doing what is out of your control. Your curls are a mess as you climb the hill with Margaery behind you, telling you to be careful.

As you turn at her, you realize that this is not only about you.

“Marg”, you stop half the way to put her in a hug. “I’m sorry for involving you in this. I’m sorry for not being the one person I was before.”

“You don’t have to apologize for being who you are. We are all survivors, haunted by the past in many ways. Fighting for love is not something most are willing to do this day”, she tells you. “You know I’m here for you, no matter what. I’m just protective over you.”

“I know. So am I to you, I hope you know that.”

When a bond like this is formed, no bad weather, no conjecture can break. Such friendship is rare to see, but existing nevertheless. Both you and Margaery know that.

And now you part, leaving her to wait, prompted to go back to prayers for your safety. However, as you stand high at the Aegon’s Hill, between the stones, the spell doesn’t work.

“No”, you mumble, trying not to be surrendered by despair at the first try. “No, no. Come on!”

You try to recollect mystic words you believe you’ve heard, but to no avail. You cling onto a stone nearby, eyes closing, however, it doesn’t work either.

Wind howls louder, as if it laughs, and yet it appears you spot ethereal creatures not too far.

You try to hold onto this hope, but maybe this is a trick of nature. No matter what you do, you remain where you are.

“Aemond…”

Your eyes are blurred by tears.

I know. I know. I just know. You're not gone, you can't be gone, no…

You don’t realize you are sobbing until your knees go weak and they collide against the grass. Rain thus starts to pour and your reason cannot conceive the obvious.

Aemond is gone. Past is unreached. You are where you should be… and had it not been for your unborn child, you’d believe all had nothing but a dream.

“Y/N!”, Margaery cries out your name. “Come on! Rain is about to fall!”

You know the wind is too strong for her to face it. Therefore you recollect your dignity and stand.

“I’ll be on my way”, you yell back.

But your voice dies as rain finally drops. It falls violently over you and with the wind, it is as if you’ve been trapped in a storm.

“Oh”, you are now scared when struggling to go back. “What have I done?”

The more you walk, the more difficult it is to leave the circle of stones. To some believers, they’d tell you that you are being punished by the Gods for meddling where you should not be.

However, what if they are playing with you? The Targaryens answer to no men nor gods, but you are no Targaryen. You are a common lass, tossed away in the past to serve some mysterious God a wicked purpose.

These are not your thoughts, though. As a mother-to-be, you realize you must protect your child at all costs. It’s when the unexpected happens.

Right when Margaery is decided to push you out of those bloody stones back to the safety of the car, is when you disappear before her eyes.

“Y/N!”

But you never hear her calling your name.

***

Aemond is not lifeless under water. He’s been rescued by a soldier, loyal to the green house. A few months have passed since this soldier, who happens to be familiar with a priest of the Lord of the Light, was instrumental in getting him back.

When being told of how close to death he was, Aemond says nothing.

“You must not be a ghost in living flesh, lord”, insists the said soldier. “We must get back to our cause at once. The Lord of Light demands it to be so, having impeded you to go to the dark lands of death. He has a purpose to which you now must serve.”

“Targaryens bend to no deity nor men”, he retorts, standing and making his own path.

But reality is worse than he thought. Under a dark cape, he mixes with the populace and there he is informed that the Good Queen Helaena has committed suicide and that Aegon is close to death.

Some say he’s the victim of slow poisoning.

Whatever it is, bells ring that day to announce old king Aegon, Second of His Name, usurper to many and kinslayer to others, has died. His successor is, to Aemond’s consternation, Aegon III.

“The son of the Rhaenyra, the Proud”, so he is told by a peasant. “But it’s how the wheel of fortune is, very fair if you ask me. However the new king is a child, therefore a council must be formed.”

And here he is informed how Daemon Targaryen lives and is the chief of the said council on behalf of his only surviving son.

Whatever truth there is in such informations, Aemond feels desolated. Haunted by what cannot return, orphaned of a family that, for better or worse, put him in this violent path, he is like an errant knight with no cause to fight for.

Hopelessness moves his steps and it’s when he spots Aegon’s Hill and its mystical stones.

Can't breathe whenever you're gone. Can't go back, I'm haunted

“Y/N”, he calls your name.

The rogue prince is tempted to turn his back. There’s nothing for him now. He has no dragon, and is as vulnerable now as he was as a child. Indeed, as he’s been told, he’s now a ghost in living flesh.

Even so, what’s there to lose by going there?

Perhaps a spark of hope in seeing you again leads his steps, crossing discreetly, invisibly even, all those strange faces that carry on with their insignificant lives all the whilst the wheel of fortune turns again.

It’s when he sees you.

“This cannot be…” he mutters, perplexed. “I am seeing a phantom! This is only the plausible explanation…”

But when you see him too, every pain and angst are finally put to the past. One runs to the other, finding in a warm embrace the peace both of you needed.

“I am no phantom, my darling! No spectrum of time.”

“Oh, wife! Don’t leave me like this ever again!”

“Husband”, you sniff, forehead rested against forehead, hands cupping his face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. But you came back to me”, says he, his voice embargoed.

“I would never leave you.”

Words are dismissed when he grabs your waist and then holding your face as if to ensure you are real, not a ghost haunting him indeed, he pursuits your lips like a famine man.

There, in the streets, post chaos of civil war, two strangers embrace like peasants and kiss hungrily like commoners.

***

“Come back with me”, you tell him anxiously, dragging him back to Aegon’s Hill. “This is too much to ask, I know…”

“No”, he cuts you gently. “I have nothing holding me here, lady. Not anymore. No family or friends, but foes who hold victory like you said.”

“I am sorry”, but before you could tell him he’s not lost his family, Aemond smiles at you and says:

“Do not be. It is what it is. Destiny is all.”

Locking hands with you, he takes one last challenge. For a purpose unknown, Aemond Targaryen not only lives… but outlives his days, his relatives and, mostly important, his enemies.

***

You still wait for the right moment to tell him you carry his child. There is too much going on. Like when it happened with you in his days, you make up a new background for him, especially when you introduced him to your aunt and uncle.

“His name is Aemon”, you purposely cut the “d” off his name. “He’s just started at Westeros university as a student of political sciences.”

Aemond holds back a snort, finding all of this very interesting. Thankfully, he’s still got some good gold with him so he’s not poor in this new existence.

Leaving aside matters of money, Aemond was shocked at how modern King’s Landing now is. The grand port in other days received products of Essos and the other Free Cities for trade and other purposes, has shrink in size and is now smaller than in his days.

There are now airports, better schools, places of knowledge like universities.

“Daeron would have liked that”, he once shared with you in a rather melancholic tone.

In these colleges, he comes to see that knowledge is no longer a privilege of maesters, but to all those who want to know better. There, rich and poor study with no distinctions. At least, in theory.

He’s also informed of other technologies and modern activities, before getting to know the most important matter of all: the rise of Queen Daenerys and her consort, King Jaehaerys.

“Bloody seven hells”, Aemond snorted. “Had Aegon seen this… not only he was succeeded by Rhaenyra’s son, but her lineage remains on the throne.”

“In these days women can rule just fine”, you told him then.

He still has some mindset to change, to which you give him time to get himself accostumed. And then he was told of the usurpation coming from the Lannisters, the almost break of the North and the subsequent mess coming from evil creatures that, once thought as mythical, proved to be very real. These were known as the Others, who followed a certain Night King.

It took Aemond several weeks to absorve all of this information, and once he considered that he could get used to this, he sought a home for you two to live lawfully as husband and wife after beginning his studies in the said course of political sciences.

Yet, before you two truly began living your lives as a married couple, he had to meet your family, of course.

“My mother and dad, along with my younger siblings, are living in Sunspear, now. Who’d ever thought, right? A northern family living all good in the South…”

And then you introduced Aemond to cellphone, video-calls and other brand new technologies that almost drove him to the insanity.

Nevertheless here you two are. Once acquainted with your family and friends, and married in civil ceremony—he still wants to go on with a religious one, and you gladly comply with his wishes, it’s just you are still “I cannot believe this is really happening” mood.

So now you two are in bed. You watch as Aemond, short-haired, partially nude, is wearing glasses as he reads the history of Westeros. He’s so concentrated that it begins to arouse you.

It’s been two months since the marriage, at least in its medieval form, has been consumed. Now every obstacle has been knocked down, you realize how much you have missed him… carnally, speaking.

Perhaps it’s just your hormones speaking, but you let your hair loose and adjust your modern nightgown so it shows some skin. And then you crawl to his side.

“Mm, honey. What are you reading?”, you whisper in his ear, a hand playing with his short, messy hair all the whilst another rests in his belly.

Distracted at first, for he’s always been one to sharp his wit—despite not being considerate the brightest of the family, that title passed to his younger brother, Daeron—, he takes a few seconds to answer you.

“Uh? Oh, yes, I’m reading about the history of my family. For better or worse, we are all related”, he grumbles under his breath. “Have you read about…?”

His words die interrupted when you start kissing his neck and your hand slides below his belly, resting over his manhood, quietly hidden underneath his garments.

“Lady…”, he groans, eyes fluttering.

“Yes, my lord husband?”, you slowly move closer, your eager fingertips pulling down his garments and then…

And then Aemond puts his book aside, finally paying attention in you.

It’s when he notices your boobs are bigger than last time he saw them denuded, to the point they are almost dropping out the cloth of your nightgown.

“Oh, it’s been so long”, he groans, breath cut short the moment you begin to stroke him up and down, teasing the tip of it with your thumb. “My lady wife…”

“Yes?”, you turn at him, pursuing his lips sensually.

“Let me put away these…”, he chuckles before putting away his glasses. “Aren’t you a little on fire today?”

“Mmm”, you kiss his neck now, stroking him intently, aroused in turn at his sounds.

“Oh Lords!”, the former prince groans louder.

It’s when the dragon awakes and he kisses you just as hungrily, rolling his body over yours as he removes your hands, locking them above your head.

Watching as you rub one leg to the other, he doesn’t take long before lifting your nightgown and then… dropping his head to your nipples all the whilst his fingertips move to your core, pleased to find your womanhood wet.

As he teases you, though, Aemond’s eyes search for yours, finding in them the same fire that burns him. He raises his head to whisper some unspeakable things in your ear and right before you come undone, he lifts his hips and…

“Fuck, Aemond!”, you curse loudly upon his thrust.

“Ah, Gods. This is so good!”, he moves slowly with you first. “I missed you, my lady! I have longed for this!”

Your hands now wrapped around his neck, you put him closer to you.

“I love you, my lord husband”, you moan sensually when your lips collide in a hungry kiss.

“As do I, my gorgeous wife!”

He notices, though, how different you look. And when you turn over him, surprising at how horny you are this day, he smirks:

“What have I done to my lady?”

“Oh you have made me a dragon rider, have you forgotten?”, you smirk, pleased to make him blush.

His hands going from your breasts to your waist, Aemond can see your belly is slightly bigger than last time he saw you nude. And if he’s good in math…

But he is too distracted by your ride to do it now, so the prince rises and, locking his body to yours, little wonder why you two come together at last.

“How synchronized are we”, you paint, refusing to let him go of you.

Aemond chuckles, putting you down to him, stroking your long y/c locks, admiring your y/c eyes as he peppers your face with gentle kisses.

“We are, my dearest. And it comes to my eyes, as well as my mouth, that your breasts are not only bigger, but more sensitive too.”

You blush deeply at his remark, a sight pleasant to his sight. He crawls over you, saying:

“There should be no embarrassment, lady, when we are lawfully married. You thought I’d not notice the changes in your body?”

“Aemond…”, your face is now bright red as he smiles warmly at you.

“And how you sang my name louder than the first time we copulated the moment I sucked it with my mouth?”, he smirks when spotting signs his words are arousing you. “How easier now you are, what’s the word for it again? Oh yes, horny.”

You bury your face in his shoulder, giggling like a little girl. But when his hand cups your left boob, you fear you might lose your self control. Sighing impatiently, you lean backwards and cupping his face you say what he wants to hear:

“I am carrying your child.”

Aemond beams, in complete delight.

“How dare you to keep these news out of me?”, says he in between chuckles.

“Well, I wanted to tell you in a better occasion”, you say, in reference to that fatidic evening. “But time parted us.”

Understanding what’s subtly said, Aemond nods. But sadness is a brief shadow that is instantly dismissed when his hand rests on your belly.

“Whether it’s a boy or a girl, I will love the same. However, they ought to bear a Targaryen name.”

“I thought we agreed to live discreetly, my love?”

“What’s the problem in naming a daughter Visenya Hightower?”

You laugh quietly.

“I doubt anyone bought that you are a distant Hightower.”

“But I am”, he insists.

“Yeah, right, but you have Targaryen looks, handsome. Look at these purple irises of yours for an instance.”

“If anything I have a Dornish ancestral. Those of Starfall have purple eyes. The Danes, to be fair.”

You stroke his cheek, caressing it gently, watching as he rests his head in your hand, locking gazes with you.

“A family to call your own”, you whisper.

“Indeed, and for that I am more than thankful”.

Saying so he kisses your lips slowly.

***

• Epilogue. Two years later..

A fragile line that is not so fragile anymore. All seems well that ends well.

You watch as Aemond runs with the twins, named Helaena, to honour his sister, and Visenya, his ancestress whom he’s very fond of. As you pat your belly, pregnant for the second time, you watch the beautiful scenario, very content for living it in peace.

It’s when you notice a woman, apparently the same age as Aemond, cast him and the children a glance. She has a shade of silver in her reddish hair. Something about her makes you stand and promptly move after him.

But before you get to Aemond and share with him your twisted sentiments, the girl herself says:

“I have a feeling we’ve known before”, she smiles gently.

To you, the same sentiment is there. You are baffled by it, unsure where it comes from.

“I’m sorry, have we met?”, Aemond inquires, puzzled, as he holds both twins in his arms.

“Not exactly in this lifetime, I’m afraid”, and turning at you, she smiles. “My darling sister Y/N, so we meet again.”

You and your husband exchange looks. What is this?

“I’ve taken the name of Sarah, but in truth I am the reincarnation of your sister Helaena.”

Couldn’t things get any more complicated?

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #taylor swift #haunted #speak now (taylor’s version)

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writingintheshadowsforever · 1 year

Text

Imagine Being Namor's Daughter and Choosing Wakanda over him after Queen Ramonda's Death

Okay so walking straight into enemy territory after your father just drowned the country's beloved leader in front of her daughter wasn't your best idea. But how could you continue to stand with by Namor's side with his merciless actions. Your whole life you had always been daddy's little girl. Namor gave you the world and treated you like the Princess you were. When you expressed your desire to be a warrior he didn't turn you away.

He taught how to fight, how to move with your wings, and how to control your ability to manipulate water. Whatever your heart desired is what he gave you. Except this time the feud between Wakanda and Talokan was getting out of hand. You had begged your father to proceed with caution when he returned from his meeting with the Queen to find. Both Shuri and Riri had been rescued by the country.

You grabbed his arm and dug your feet into the hard cavern floor. Holding on for dear life your desperate pleas were the last line defense for an inevitable war on the horizon. You had considerable strength thanks to being his daughter, but Namor was still stronger. And when he turned around to shrug you away that one small action sent you flying back to the ground. You landed on your butt hard and looked up at him in shock and fear.

Namor's eyes widened as it hit him what he just did. His intention wasn't to hurt you that was never his intention. Regret flashed across his face but was quickly replaced with his hard resolve. You recognized that look all too well. He wore it whenever Namora and Attuma came to him with news of human ships getting to close to Talon's vibranium supply.

His mind was made up and no amount of reasoning would change it. He would attempt to make amends with you later, but soon Namor would discover this time he went too far in your eyes. Unlike your father you never shared the same hatred for the surface world. Especially for a nation of people who were in the same position as Talokan, and while Wakanda had surely made some mistakes. Nothing justified what he was doing. This wasn't the way to build an alliance, and you had to do something. If such a thing could still be possible.

You rose up out of the water in the heart of city floating outside the palace. At the same spot where your father launched his attack on Queen Ramonda. You got the chance to speak with her after news reached you that her daughter and the scientist got captured.

"You have a lot of nerve to show your face here" Queen Ramonda seethed.

You appeared on the same beach your father had approached them at knowing it would be heavily guarded. Indeed you were met with sharp end of multiple spears wielded by women dressed in red and silver armor. "I come in peace I request an audience with the Queen."

"And why should we grant your request?" One of them spoke up walking forward forcing you to step back. In order to avoid being pierced with her weapon.

It was a power move to establish control and dominance. You knew it and knocked the spear away with a simple strike. "Because my father has taken your Princess and the scientist hostage."

That was all they needed to hear and the leader of the army ordered them to stand down. She regarded you in suspicion. You had no weapon attached to your body, and didn't look a day over eighteen, but your eyes told a different story. You were a force to be reckoned with just as much as your father. Funny thing you never introduced yourself as the Princess of Talokan, but she was able to figure it out. With the way you walked and talked showing absolutely no fear.

"I know you are angry your Highness and you have every right to be. My father went against his word and betrayed you, but I promise you no harm has come to your daughter." You told her.

"And I'm just supposed to believe you. The child of my enemy who threatened my country" She shot back with a humorless chuckle.

"I might be his child but I am nothing like my father I came to reassure you and-" You cut yourself off in hesitation.

"And what go on" Queen Ramonda encouraged with a wave of her head. The elderly people seated in a circle of the throne room nodded as well. They were captivated from the second you walked through the door. The wings on your ankles, the pointy ears, and the large circular vibranium bottle that sat on your hip. They wondered what was in it, and you reassured them it was only water. But none of them knew of your ability to control it.

"I'm here to offer myself up as your prisoner until your daughter and the young scientist is returned safely." You finished straightening your body out to stand tall. Your eyes locked onto hers to show her just how serious you were about this proposition.

Queen Ramonda waited for a few seconds as if you had just told a joke, and she was waiting for the punchline. But you showed no sign of retracting your offer or regret. "Will you really be so foolish child?"

"Its not foolish it's a fair trade in my eyes. My father took the Princess of Wakanda, so you guys get the Princess of Talokan" You told her.

"Queen Ramonda we should accept her surrender. It will finally give us the leverage to get him to surrender." A elder woman spoke up.

"My father doesn't surrender ever" You corrected her. "But this will keep him in check, and make him more inclined to negotiate."

A dark skinned burly man dressed in furry clothing got to his feet. "Maybe we don't want to bargain with the fishman. What if we want to kill him?"

Your gaze darkened at the clear hostility that his demeanor was giving off. "Then I would pray to whatever you humans believe in these days, because that's a fight none of you stand a chance in surviving." You sneered taking a step closer.

The man raised an eyebrow at you. "Oh so you do have a bit of fight in you after all. How much of a warrior did fishman make you?"

"My father's name is Namor and you should do well to remember it" You said with your voice getting considerably lower. There was a dangerous tone to it.

Queen Ramonda must have recognized it and knew it matched the same one as Namor. When he made his threats and she didn't like it. "M'Baku stand down at once" she ordered pointing a finger at him.

M'Baku looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better against it, and took his seat.

"Great now that the furry man is done with his idle threats. I want to make it clear I'm only surrendering to you and no one else your Highness." You said your voice returning to its normal tone of neutrality.

"Ayo prepare a hovercraft" Ramonda announced.

"Forgive if I overstep my boundaries my Queen but for what purpose" Ayo asked, slightly confused at her decision.

"We're returning the Princess of Talokan to the beach" The Queen answered getting to her feet. A collective sound of gasps filled the room at her words. Then everyone burst into speech trying to talk over each other.

"Are you serious?" You asked her with narrowed eyes. As you pondered rather or not this was some sort of trap. Somehow your voice carried over everyone else's.

"Yes I am and we shall discuss my decision on the way. Now come child" she said taking a gentle hold of your shoulder to nudge you forward.

On that trip Queen Ramonda revealed to you that despite all your father's transgressions against Wakanda. She had no intention of involving his child in the affairs of the two nations. You argued that it was your decision, and she hit you back with. The classic you're a child and clearly not thinking straight.

"You remind me of my Shuri in someways y/n and if I can I want to protect you from the horrors of war."

Guilt tore through your body as you flew through the gaping holes where there use to be glass. You weren't present during the war only because your father ordered you to stay behind, and left a few of his guards on watch duty. If he was smart he would've left Namor or Attuma the only soldiers in your army that could hold their own against you.

Your feet touched the cold brown floor, and it felt as if the pain and grief from the events that took place here. Just a day ago or so was still swirling around in the throne room like a spirit clinging to what little life they have left. You could feel it in your bones and it nearly put you on your knees. Until your ears picked up a the faint sound of footsteps approaching you from behind. Then a low whistling noise followed and you brought your arm to block the blade with vibranium wrist guard. It glanced off the green metal and sent your attacker stumbling back.

You whirled around to face the person. It was a lone man by himself dressed in dark clothing. His face was covered with a mask covering the bottom half of his face. Out of nowhere two more came to his aide taking their place on either side of him. "Don't be a fool take to the Princess."

"What do you want Talokanil? A familiar voice demanded from behind. You glanced over your shoulder to see it was none other than Ayo with small change in armor. Instead of a silver neckline hers was now gold.

"I want to speak with her" You said your main focus going back to the men just a few feet away.

"For what reason I know you wouldn't be dumb enough to surrender yourself to her. In the state that she is in you will find no mercy here" Ayo warned.

"I'm not seeking out mercy I want to assist her in defeating my father" You revealed. Not needing to see her face to hear the hitch in her breathing. Once again you had surprised her.

"She doesn't want your assistance" One of the man cried out lunging at you. He swung his sword in wide arc aiming for your face.

"No" Ayo yelled holding out a hand. She might not be your biggest fan right now, but if your blood was spilled Namor would become even more unhinged.

His movements were erratic and sloppy. You caught by the wrist and forced his hand down while swinging his body around at the same time. In one swift move the man was rolled to the floor gently. It happened so fast that the others barely witnessed your counter. Ayo eyed the sword attached to your back wondering why you didn't draw it instead. You would've been within your right to do it.

"I'm not looking for a fight with either of you. I'm sorry for the loss of your leader. She was great woman and didn't deserve what my father did to her. I know I can't bring her back or right his wrongs, but I can help bring this war to an end. Before more countless lives are lost please just let me do that." You pleaded your case looking over at Ayo in desperation.

She let out a huff knowing what she was about to do could only end two ways. Either Wakanda was going to gain an ally with unlimited knowledge on Talokan's army, or there would be no peaceful to all of this will your body turned up in the ocean. She prayed to Bast the Princess could bury her emotions to at least hear you out.

"Come on then she is in her lab" Ayo finally agreed and motioned for you to follow her. Which you did walking instead of flying.

The elevator ride down was filled with more awkwardness than tension, and you appreciated it. Knowing it would change in just a few more seconds. Ayo was wary of your intentions yet somehow you were still able to convince her of your honesty.

Shuri wouldn't be so quick to believe you heck it wouldn't matter to her if it did. You had to consider the possibility she would be consumed by vengeance already. The elevators doors finally opened to a massive space with a giant circular ramp behind you. There were many levels to it each one filled with various workstation and clear screens. On the outside you could see through the glass a multiple trains traveling at a blinding speed across the vast cave system. You were wandering over to truly take in the sight. When a hand stopped you with a firm grasp of your shoulder.

"We didn't come here for you to sightsee Princess let's go" Ayo reminded you.

You nodded and followed her around the ramp. Just a few feet away stood a group of four women huddled together. You recognized all of them having run into them all at some point. The one named Okoye stood beside Shuri with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Nakia sat beside the Princess and cradled her head on her shoulder. Riri stood a few feet away fiddling with her hands keeping her gaze on the floor.

"Now might not be the best time" Ayo whispered.

"Its now or ever I leave now my father will not permit my return. He has his ways of keeping me locked up." You whispered back stepping forward. Ayo shot you a look picking up on the subtle hint of distress in your confession. There was a story behind your words.

"Princess Shuri" You called out her name softly trying carefully not to shock her too much.

She pulled away from Nakia as all of their heads snapped in your direction. Okoye moved to stand in front of the Princess protectively knowing that even without a spear. She was still one of Wakanda's best warriors. Riri scrambled backward and inched her over to stand beside Shuri who was on her feet. Ayo took stance in front of you with a single hand raised. Nakia did the same placing herself in front of Okoye and Shuri.

The woman with beautiful locs that were a deep red color pulled back pointed the long gun at the Talokanil woman. Who had Shuri by the shoulder with a blade to her throat. The mysterious stranger and the Princess spoke their mother tongue. But before she could fire off a shot you walked into the room with calm pace. Holding out either of your arms to ward both your solider and the woman.

"Lower your weapon and I will order her to stand down" You reasoned.

She looked at you a bit unsure. "Who are you?"

"Y/N Princess of Talokan daughter of Namor" You answered not missing the look exchanged between her and Shuri. "Obviously neither of you were aware of my existence until now. But that hardly matters your Queen knows me and delivered me back home. I owe her a great debt so I will allow the Princess and the young girl to leave with you without a fight. All I ask is that you lower the weapon."

"Princess" the soldier called out in a worried voice.

"Let her go you will be fine I promise I will not let death befall you" You swore turning to her. She gave you a slow nod and released Shuri before taking a step back.

The woman slowly pointed her gun at the cave floor. She motioned for Shuri and Riri to come to her keeping her eyes trained on you.

You let both of them pass by you without lifting a finger or a word.

"Thank you" Shuri said as the woman yanked on her hand.

"You're welcome I will do my best to keep my father at bay" You replied waving goodbye.

Nakia didn't know why you were here, and while she couldn't be sure this wasn't a trap. That action right now made her want to give you the benefit of the doubt. "Let's all just relax."

"You told me you would keep him under control y/n what happened?" Shuri demanded. Her voice distraught filled with pain.

You opened your mouth but no words came out.

"You let him kill her my mother is gone because you failed." She continued pushing past Okoye only to be held back by Nakia.

"Get her out of here" Okoye ordered.

It would seem positions didn't matter as Ayo turned to grip you by the arms pushing you away. "Let's go."

"No just let me try." You stood your ground planting your feet, and your body didn't budge another inch.

"Take her to a cell Ayo" Shuri ordered. A venom in her voice now replacing the pain.

You cursed in your language under your breath running a hand through your hair. You knew this outcome was a possibility, but was hoping it wouldn't come true.

"Shuri you act with haste without thinking maybe we sh-" Nakia began, but was silenced with a glare.

"She is Namor's daughter and his only blood. My mother was the only family I had left in the world. She is lucky I don't order her death right where she stands. After what her father did."

"No child should pay for the sins of their parent" Nakia told her.

"Killmonger did" she shot back.

"He paid for your father's sins as did T'Challa look how all that played out sister." Nakia continued to push.

"Stop defending her" Shuri shouted breaking free of her grip. "General I told you to take her away."

The use of her positional name got her attention, and the warrior shot you an apologetic look. You nodded and turned around letting her lead you with a hand on the small of your back.

Two Days Later

You lost track of time laying down on the cot provided to you in the decent size cell. There was no windows in the room letting you know when day came and night passed. But at least you were comfortable and somewhat fed thanks to Ayo and surprisingly Nakia. Both brought you food leaving it outside the bars.

Your father had to be worrying himself to death by now, and it was a miracle he hadn't come for you yet. Which meant your plan to throw him off your real location worked. You asked one of the few guards truly loyal to you more than your father to lie, and tell him you ran away to one of the old kingdoms. There a great deal of them spread across the oceans from all the times Talokan had to be moved in order to avoid discovery by humans. Some were still in great condition and was actually fun to return to. While others that weren't built by vibranium had succumbed to the nature of the water.

You would journey to them often just to reminisce the past. Namor hated it whenever you did disappear on your little adventures.

The main entrance door opened and the last person you expected to visit you walked through it. Riri Williams.

"Did you come here to gloat?" You asked sitting up with your back against the wall.

Riri shook her head holding up something in her hand that you couldn't really make out. While the cell wasn't completely shrouded in darkness. It lacked a significant lighting source. "I brought you some snacks the best on Earth if you ask me." Riri stopped at your cell and took a seat on the floor. She pushed some items towards you the paper crinkling, but you made no move to get it.

"You know I actually did feel sorry for you at first but then I thought about it." Riri began opening a candy bar of her own.

"And" you said in a lazy voice.

"I just thought what dumbass would walk straight into enemy territory trying to negotiate. After her father killed the leader right in front of her daughter and closest friends. I mean I know not everyone is as smart as me but I just thought it would be common sense to anyone to steer clear. After something like that like do your people not believe in that or something. I'm serious did daddy not give you the political breakdown of war."

You couldn't help but burst out into laughter at her ramblings. It should have offended you to some degree, but the face that you and her thought the same thing of. Your reckless actions amused more than anything, and you needed a good laugh. Eventually when your laughter died down you crawled forward to take the strange snacks. "You know what if this is poison I don't think I mind at all."

Riri grinned. "Its chocolate and chips not poison well how do you feel about calories?"

"I love them" you replied eyeing the substance covered in dark brown wrapping with the word Hershey's on it. The name tugged at a long forgotten memory in the pit of your brain. "I think I had this before."

The young scientist raised an eyebrow at that ready to question you. When the door opened again but this time it was Shuri in a Black Panther Suit.

One look was all that the young girl needed to get the memo. She got up with a small wave and left the two of alone.

"No handcuffs" Shuri mused.

"I would've broken them" you told her breaking off a piece of the chocolate bar. You let it the sweet flavor of the candy coat your tastebuds melting on your tongue.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you?" Shuri demanded.

Her question didn't faze you in the slightest. "Because you need me Princess."

"I figured out your father's weakness on my own I have no use of you" she said shrugging her shoulders.

"You shouldn't go down this path Princess it won't do you any good in the long run."

"Oh please" Shuri scoffed with a look of disdain. "How would you know?"

You got to your feet and walked to the front of your cell placing both hands on the cell bars. Leaning your head forward to look her in the eyes. "My father didn't always hate humans you know. My mother was one."

The bomb you just dropped on her made her trip over her own feet despite her new abilities. She shook her head in disbelief. "No Namor said his name stood for no love because he has no love for the surface world. Your father hates all humans you're lying."

"No I'm not I just take more after him than her. He always said it was the effect of moving underwater and drinking whatever concoction his advisor whipped up for me. A very long time ago my father fell in love with a human woman, and they had me. She opened his eyes to the beauty the surface world had to offer. Before my father was only indifferent to humans and knew it was crucial that the governments never discovered our existence. But my mother was slowly changing his perspective."

Shuri was a bit interested in the story even if she wasn't sure if she believed it or not. "Go on what changed."

"My mother was murdered." You told her in a monotone voice.

Her eyes widened and for the first time Shuri regarded you with sympathy.

"I was only a toddler when it happened. I don't remember how it happened or much about my mother till this day. Namora had to tell me the story because my father refuses to speak of it. Men raided the village my mom lived in on this island near Talokan at the time. She was running with me tucked to her chest, trying to make it to the ocean. Some of my people believed she prayed to my 6 he heard it, but she was struck down with two bullets right as she reached the shore. Dad arrived a few seconds short of being able to save her, and he watched as the love of his life died in a pool of blood. Cradling his child in her arms that were reached out towards the water like a desperate plea. That was the day the man, without love, was born."

"How long ago was this?" Shuri asked in a hazy voice as she tried to process your entire story.

You gave your shoulders a small shrug. "I can't really remember Princess."

"How old are you?"

"Not as old as you think but not as young as I look" You answered.

"Can't you give me a real answer?" She asked in exasperation. "Look I'm sorry about your mother but that doesn't excuse your father's actions."

"I never say it did I was just pointing out how he let the decision of a few bad men influence his whole view on the entire world. The surface world doesn't deserve my father's rage, as my people nor do I deserve yours. But if you can't see that because you're blinded by rage. Nothing I say will convince you to spare me Princess Shuri." You explained leaning backward for a second.

"But Namor doesn't" she declared angrily.

"I never said he didn't now did I?" You shot back.

"You wouldn't seek out revenge if I killed your father" she chuckled in disbelief.

You fixed her with a hard look before answering. "I watched as vengeance consumed my father and turned him into a man I can hardly love sometimes. I watch now as it consumes you and makes you act with such haste not considering your very own people. The ones you wanted so badly to protect when you visited Talokan and tried to reason with my father. Do you really think I would be foolish enough to let it do the same to me?

Shuri knew you were making good points but could hardly fathom the idea of. You not trying to kill her if she took Namor away from you. "You have no love for him."

"He is the most precious person to me in this entire world, but not more so than my people who I swore to protect and care for. Talokan would fall without a true leader" You reminded her.

"They would seek out war as well" she argued.

"Not all of them nations aren't just made up of people but civilians who can't fight as well. Some of the army will stay loyal to me, but yes others would seek out vengeance."

Shuri took a deep breath turning her back to you as she contemplated everything you had said. Wakanda's armies were ready to go at sunrise to put the plan in motion. But she had to figure out what to with you first. Nakia pushed her too hear your proposition at least. And now she was regretting it as you made her question all of her decisions.

"Princess I only want peace that's all I ever wanted" You whispered knowing she would hear you.

"I use to want that" she murmured blinking away tears.

"Come here" you called out to her softly.

You wasn't sure if she was going to listen but curiosity won out, and indeed she walked forward to the cell bars. There was about an inch of space between your bodies. Your hand reached through the bars and rested on her chest palm forward over her beating heart.

Shuri looked up not pulling away from the contact instead she locked eyes with you. An overwhelming feeling of warmth invaded her body betraying the storm trying to continue to rage. As your eyes bored into hers breaking through her defenses.

"Deep down past all the steel walls you built after losing your brother and mother. Past all the hatred you harbor for the world and my father. You still want peace Shuri I know you do sometimes when my father looks at the only picture of my mother in his possession. I see the man he was before the world took his love away from him. A man I never met but I know exists inside of him somewhere. The same way I'm seeing the person you were before the world turned against you as well. She is happy, kind, has the most beautiful smile in the world, and wants to help people in her own way."

Shuri took a step back with tears falling from her eyes at the way you spoke so softly. She wasn't going to let you take this away from her. "I will release you and allow you to provide us with aide. But you will not interfere with my fight with Namor understood?"

You nodded with a saddened look. "You and my father must find your own way back. If one or both of you die. I will mourn but I will not seek vengeance."

Shuri moved forward to slip the key in and open your cell door. You took a step out and began to follow her back into the palace.

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #shuri x reader #shuri imagine #namor x reader #queen romanda #nakia #riri williams

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little-diable · 11 months

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Tangled Faith - Tommy Shelby (1/4)

Okay ngl, I am obsessed with this story, I hope y'all like it just as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader, a female pastor, takes over the Catholic Church in Tommy's part of the city, so, it doesn't take long for her and Tommy to cross paths. Even though she tries to stay out of his business, Tommy can't help but notice that something seems off about the woman.

Warnings: 18+, masturbation (m), mentions guns and threats, religious connotations, a lot of tension

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female pastor reader (2.3k words)

Part Two

Every step she took made a sound so defeating those close by couldn’t help but wonder which demonic power had managed to break down the heavy doors of the holy halls. (Y/n) had her eyes set on the altar, on the heavy stone columns that formed the church into the building that towered over the surrounding houses. Her habit floated around her ankles, making her appear taller, growing in the shadows like Lucifer himself, lurking behind the wooden benches that were now empty but would be filled within the next hour.

The scent of incense and burning candles filled her nostrils with every breath she inhaled, forcing her closer towards the altar, dropping to her knees right in front of it. With her fingers laced together she spoke a quick prayer, ending it with a cross sign. Her body knew the routine by heart, trusting herself to prepare for the upcoming service, placing down the heavy goblet, filled with wine that no longer tasted of sun dried grapes and fresh Summer, but of older times reminding one of dropping bombs, crying children, and grieving lovers. A stale taste she’d never get used to.

(Y/n) had taken on her position only a handful of days ago, replacing the old, all too corrupt pastor, at least that’s what she had been told. A woman amongst a crowd of greedy, power hungry men that couldn’t bear being around a woman as strong-headed as (y/n), a foolish mistake those that dared to doubt her standing would eventually pay for, burning in the fires of hell down below.

“Pastor (y/n)?” Her eyes found the dark ones of a nun she hadn’t crossed paths with yet, eyebrows raised to wait for the woman to keep on talking. “A woman’s here to see you, her name’s Polly Gray.”

She couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble of the nun’s voice, quivering as if the name she just had spoken was a demonic ritual, unleashing powers those that breathed the same air as she did wouldn’t be able to fight against. Curiosity began to fill (y/n)’s system, studying the young nun for a moment before her gaze flickered down to her pocket watch, “There’s no time for such meetings, service starts in a few minutes. Tell her to come find me afterwards. Invite her to join in on the service.”

The nun hesitated for a moment, fumbling with her fingers, trying to find the right words to go against the pastor’s command, but no word left the woman, slowly nodding her head before she disappeared within the shadows of the holy halls. A deep breath was exhaled as (y/n) found herself being alone once again, eyes fluttering close as an annoyed “May You give me the strength to endure this place” left her lips.

……

“I don’t like being told to wait.” A strong, unfamiliar voice echoed through (y/n)’s office, eyes finding a pair of dark ones. A woman by far older than she was was sitting in one of the leather chairs placed in (y/n)’s office, lips enclosed around a cigarette, releasing the blueish smoke one wouldn’t be able to run from.

“I don’t like being commanded around. Seems like we both have our minds set on things we like and don’t like.” (Y/n) closed the door to her office, finding her way to her desk, plopping down in the all too uncomfortable chair with a tired sigh. “You joined in on the service.”

“No need to sound so surprised, pastor, I cherish my faith.” Polly Gray’s eyes didn’t dare leave (y/n)’s features, as if she was looking for something, anything she could use to go against the female pastor she had no information on. There was something about the newcomer that screamed of anger, of troubles those that were too focused on their own back and forth with men and women that found pleasure in using weapons couldn’t waste any time on.

“Speak what’s on your mind, I doubt you’re here to confess your sins.” (Y/n) watched the woman take one last inhale, blowing the smoke out into the room before she stood up, walking closer. The two didn’t break eye contact once, a game that would go on till one of them decided to give up, to back down from a fight that wasn’t fuelled by words, though by the need to scare one another off, to mark their territories.

“It won’t take long till you’ll find yourself having to decide who you will work for, a decision that will either put you in your grave, or help you and the church financially. We count on your help with whatever we may ask of you.” A humourless chuckle ripped through (y/n), hands toying with the wooden rosary dangling from her neck, the cold cross that pressed against her fingertips like the trigger of a gun. Perhaps Polly had expected her to give in, to tremble in fear, stuttering her words – just like Polly was used to – but whatever was going through (y/n)’s mind was by far more daunting than the other woman could expect, memories so cold even those coming from the lands far up North wouldn’t be able to endure for long.

“The other pastors may have found themselves trapped in your empty promises and cheap threats, but I’m not them, Polly Gray. Light a candle on your way out, have a good night.” It took the dark eyed woman a few seconds to start moving, slowly nodding her head as she started walking towards the door. The clicking of her heels rang in (y/n)’s ears like machine guns going off, triggering memories she had buried beneath the cold ground, slowly giving into the tantalising call of her name. And with one last glance shared between both women, the door to (y/n)’s office was ripped open and shut with a heavy thud moments later.

……

With her eyes set on the colourful windows, (y/n) found herself cherishing the silence filling the church. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours since her run in with Polly Gray, a fleeting night she had spent going through old notes, piecing the puzzle pieces together. By now she knew everything about Polly Gray, the Peaky Blinders, and a man called Tommy Shelby, at least the side of the story the church books told her.

The nuns had warned her of those that walked earth with a dark aura following them, a dark aura only those that were damned could endure, feasting from their hearts and souls. Whispers (y/n) had barely spared any attention, not caring about gang wars, guns, and drugs that were smuggled, not wanting to get involved in battles that weren’t hers to fight.

But even though she had made it clear to those surrounding her that they would no longer get tangled in the Shelby business, her peace didn’t last long. Heavy steps interrupted the silence, filling the church, walking closer towards the pastor that was sitting on a wooden bench, hands holding onto her black, worn out bible.

“I have to say, I’m impressed. No other woman has ever managed to say no to Polly Gray’s threats.” The man’s accent grew thicker with every syllable that rolled off his tongue, body finding rest next to her frame. (Y/n) didn’t avert her gaze, kept staring straight ahead as she listened to the stranger alight a cigarette, deeply exhaling. She knew who he was, the one others feared, not wanting to cross paths with the reaper himself.

“Tell me, Tommy Shelby, have you ever read the Romans?” She felt his eyes on her features, studying the woman for a moment before he let go of an emotionless “No, I haven’t”. With her lips pulled into a smile, (y/n) slowly turned towards the handsome stranger, speaking the words she knew by heart. “If you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer. Your threats may have worked on those who have called this church their home before me. Greedy men that were easy to fool, but I find no beauty in weapons, drugs, and jewellery, Mister Shelby. This church is for those who beg for His forgiveness, a forgiveness that shall only be granted if the plea comes from their heart, carried by true intentions. Pardon me if I am wrong about this, but I don’t think threatening a pastor’s life and her church will do you any good.”

“I’ve been damned a long time ago, I don’t fear God’s wrath.” The man’s head rolled back, blowing the smoke out into the church as (y/n) kept studying him. “It seems like you’ve asked the right questions, you seem well informed about what is happening in our part of the city.” He was undoubtedly handsome, the piercing eyes that reminded her of a life she no longer was part of, the calloused fingers that felt more mental beneath them than any blacksmith in their area. Tommy Shelby intrigued her, pulled into his trap by the danger he exuded, by the tantalising shadow of death that followed him around, old schemes (y/n) was all too familiar with.

“I know enough to pull away from whatever deal you have forced the other pastors into. This church may be open to you for prayers, confessions, and calls of guidance, but not for the price of another living soul. Now, if you excuse me.” (Y/n) rose to her feet, walking down the hallway till the sound of Tommy cocking his gun found its way to her, forcing (y/n) to halt in her steps. The sound of a gasp broke through the air, two pairs of eyes watching the frame of a young nun flee from this very hallway, finding shelter amongst those that didn’t dare interfere. Slowly (y/n) turned towards the smoking man, staring at him for a few seconds before she walked back into his direction, finding a sick satisfaction in the surprised gaze swimming in his pupils. “You may aim your gun at me, but don’t tempt me with a good time, Mister Shelby, not if you don’t intend on shooting me.”

(Y/n) came to a halt in front of him, palm pressed against the muzzle of his gun, slowly directing it towards the ground. Tommy’s piercing eyes bore into hers, silently communicating with the pastor. She stood close, breath about to clash against his lips with every exhale of cold air her lungs tried to grasp. With her hand finding his shoulder, (y/n) whispered into his ear a taunting, “Find me once you’ve made up your mind.”

……

Days later, as (y/n) found herself finding comfort in the darkness of her office, staring at the letter that had been addressed to her, asking her to find her way to the Garrison tomorrow evening, Tommy Shelby found himself leaning back in his bathtub. The night was dark, awfully calm, an unfamiliar calmness that allowed the man to find comfort in the warm water that offered him enough peace. It felt as if the water was hugging him, reminding him of how it felt to be close to a woman, and yet his mind hadn’t been able to stop thinking of a certain woman he had crossed paths with days ago.

The moment (y/n) had walked back towards him, eyes carrying an undoubtedly challenging gaze, his mind had painted a colourful picture of her body pressed against his. He had taken a look at the forbidden fruit, getting lost in the appearance that may look like God himself had crafted her with his bare hands, but seeped something dangerous Tommy couldn’t pinpoint.

His eyes were squeezed shut as his hand grasped his cock, giving his hardening length a strong tug. His thoughts kept guiding him, focusing on her beautiful face, the memories no longer vivid and bright though blurred as if he had woken from his dreams moments ago, unable to remember what exactly he had dreamt of. A heavy groan left Tommy as his fingers picked up their pace, hips jerking to fuck his hand, wondering how it may feel to have her touching him.

“Fuck,” the word rolled off his tongue as if he was speaking to her, as if (y/n) was sitting in front of him, hand wrapped around his cock, tongue brushing away his drops of precum. Like fingers rolling wooden beads, she’d put her tongue to good work, carefully touching him, allowing him to fuck her mouth with enough care to not hurt her throat too much. Tommy’s heart picked up its beat, roaring in his chest to warn him of his arising high, soon enough he’d cum on his fingers, thinking of her for one last time before he broke through the cloud of lust he was stuck in.

A string of curses left the man as he came, eyes squeezed shut, hand lazily moving for a few more moments before he let go, sinking back into the warm water. Tommy Shelby had his eyes set on the price, and he’d get his hands on her, eventually.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #tangled faith #peaky blinders imagine

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thatsatricky1 · 2 months

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𝐀𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 || ‘𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞?’ Chapter II

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Nct Dream ot7 x Reader.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst, Fluff, Mystery, Psychological, Supernatural, Thriller, Trauma, Weird Humor.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, abandonment, cursing, mild fighting, overthinking, tension.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5,4k+

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: This does not depict an accurate picture of Nct Dream and this is strictly fantasy/fiction for entertainment purposes.

Tick…tick…tick…tick

The only sound coming from the room was the clock against his bedroom wall. One that was usually never picked up on, a background noise. But as of that moment he was well aware of the sound. Too aware of it.

Jaemin was swallowed whole by the past. Just a glimpse of what might have been a slim chance of it really being her. Was all it took for his head to be filled with past memories, most bad but some good ones floating through too.

His hand absentmindedly fisting into his blanket he laid on top of, body too warm to go underneath it. Gaze held upwards towards the white ceiling in a daze. He hadn’t told the other’s about his run in with the stranger not wanting to stress them, especially after seeing the small piece of green hair. It was Seoul, and a lot of people had green hair.

His free hand moved up to cover his face but stilled, instead looking at his palm. If he concentrated hard enough it was as if he could still feel the last time he’d held her hand in his. Two years ago.

As much as he wished it to have been her today, he knew it was all just wishful thinking. More likely just some stranger. But it didn’t help his mind wandering to what if’s, how’s, why’s and more.

What if she had managed to escape?

When did she escape?

How did she escape?

Why hadn’t she approached him if had been truly her, why did she run?

Jaemin’s lips forming a frown. It had been nearly impossible for seven of them to escape as a group, the odds she’d done it by herself were slim. If she did escape when did she leave, had it been right after them, maybe a year after, a day ago. How had she managed to leave all by herself from the facility?

Tears filled his eyes in frustration causing him to wipe them away as fast as he could before they could roll down his cheeks. It was fruitless to think about these things because realistically Y/n was still there in that godforsaken facility. Doomed to be experimented on until her last breath, alone.

The guilt ate away at him, day and night for making the decision to leave. His body had picked flight and ever since he’d ran past that mahogany door with the others he couldn’t shake the guilt off.

Though one thing he never stopped believing was that she was alive. She wouldn’t go down easily. Jaemin often wondered if it was a good thing for her to continue existing in a place like that, but selfishly he wished and knew she was. Too selfish to let her go even if that’s exactly what he did.

Jaemin let his hand drop back down on the bed, eyes moving over to the neon clock hung on his wall. The numbers, staring back at him, taunting him on how it was 2 am already and he wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon.

Knowing sleep was just a mere idea at this point he got out of bed not sure where he was going until he stood in front of the door that was opposite to his own. Jeno’s bedroom door. Softly knocking before entering, not waiting for an answer.

Jeno was already staring at him when he’d walked through the doorframe. The other also had trouble sleeping, yet for the pink haired man it was a common occurrence.

They stood in silence for what felt like hours when in reality only a minute had passed. Jaemin made the first move as he made his way over to Jeno, who layed in bed with his back against his headboard.

Taking a seat on the bed, Jaemin pondered over what to say as they both sat there.

“What did she look like again? Today, at the crosswalk?” Jaemin whispered out into the dark room not looking at his friend. Jeno took a sharp breath at his question.

Stepping back from the now crackling power box, Y/n turned her attention towards the back entrance. The camera that had stared her down yesterday no longer held up as it drooped down, powered off for the time being.

“Hm, it's inconvenient to have one of your power boxes outside, even more inconvenient for it to be the one circulating your security system.” Y/n talked to herself as she made her way over to the back entrance, or exit depending on how many perceived it.

Eyeing the door, she noted the chained lock with distaste. Not having brought any bolt cutters, not that she owned one in the first place. Her hand moving to grab onto the lock making sure to cover it as much in her palm as possible.

Fist squeezing tight around it as she closed her eyes letting out a breath, feeling a tingling sensation run through her fingers before feeling the lock slowly become malleable in her hold, tugging sharply down, effectively breaking the look.

The lock falling to the ground still warm and warped, the chains following to the ground soon afterwards. A low sizzle could be heard as she stepped over the broken lock easily opening the door and pushing it forward.

Y/n not wasting a second passing through the doorway and into the back area of the building. Glitch Mode wasn’t as locked down as one would have thought for such a well known store. Or at least not for a person like her. Eye’s scanning the lower walls and floor for any movement motion camera but came up with none.

Rolling her shoulders back she remained calm knowing fully well they weren’t there since they would have heard her breaking in a minute ago. Today is Friday, they had closed one day early in the week for a long weekend. A luxury not every store could afford meaning they were doing well to be able to do something like that. The information of them not being there was given to her easily by Jaemin yesterday unknowingly from him even if everyone else found that out this morning online on their website.

She made her way around the place, taking in the maze of interesting rooms around her. They’d built quite an interesting place that is something she could admit. Most likely putting in quite a lot of effort into it. Meaning they spent a lot of time here. Y/n’s jaw clenching at the thought remembering how for the past year she’d never stayed long in places seeing as it was too dangerous. Always moving, never having a place for herself.

Her feet led her around until she’d found the staff room. Pushing the door open lightly. Gazing around finding a few personal items strewed about the place, seeing as only certain people were allowed in there to begin with.

Her hand grazed over a hoodie that had laid across a blue couch, before moving past towards a desk. The screen monitor that showed security footage covered in either white noise or a rainbow filter all obviously shut down at the moment thanks to her.

Moving on she noticed paperwork stacked neatly in different piles, her manicured nails picking up a notepad, eyes flickering over the writing. The handwriting was obvious to her on who’d been writing. Mark. It was Mark’s handwriting still the same as before.

Placing it back down she grabbed a pen left on one stack of paperwork, fiddling with it before leaning down to write on the page. Her handwriting is neat and clean. Having been taught the importance of clean handwriting.

Standing up, once satisfied with her written words, placing the pen exactly how it had been placed down to the littlest details, such as how the pen had been on a slight angle between two paragraphs of some safety protocol paperwork.

With one more check of the desk she moved back towards the couch grabbing a retro game boy as she put it in her front pocket of her hoodie taking her exit of the staff room not bothering to look back or close the door.

Moving back into the main area that led towards different paths. She gazed around taking in the many aesthetics of the room. Every area had a different aesthetic in a way, though the lobby where she stood was a clash of retro mixing into a new digital age with over-saturated colouring choices.

It was the opposite of the facility. It was colourful, bright, relaxed and somehow exciting to the eyes as well. It was everything they had wanted when they got out. And they did get out following through with their plan of having the opposite in visual stimulation compared to the bleak look of the facility.

As much as Y/n felt good about the opposite setting it also crashed negative emotions into her. The thought of them completing it without her in the picture. Easily moving on, no doubt forgetting her. Her emotions taking a toll on her mainly ever present control, the temperature in the building dropping fast.

“You did well, moved on well. I’m almost sorry about feeling disdain for you all doing so well in your new lives, almost.” Y/n talked out into the building as if they were actually present with her even when they weren’t.

The temperature now borders a deathly cold drop, frost already moving across the lobby, crystalising around what it could. Though as her gaze met a certain poster the cold only intensified ice now present around the room forming from seemingly thin air.

The poster was of seven butterflies flying through the air, no doubt digitally created by renjun. He always had a way with art. The poster seemingly just a bunch of aesthetic butterflies to the average eye but Y/n knew the meaning of the art, the freedom of it. One that was snatched away from her two years ago.

“I’ll see you all soon. This should be warning enough of who was here.” She spoke emotionless now as she turned to leave. Her boots crunching against the freshly iced floor, not laying long enough yet to become slippery.

Having not intended to freeze over the lobby and just leave the note in the staff room but she didn’t mind the accidental flare and touch she’d left behind in their main room of the building.

As she left her thought blocked up her ability to focus on her surroundings, not catching the slight beep coming from a lower area of the wall as she walked past in her exit.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just watch Billy Elliot, it’s good.” Renjun tried convincing the others.

They’d all decided to do a movie marathon for their Friday off, meaning they all were supposed to watch together as per their usual movie day rules, though they mainly did everything together anyway.

“I suggest we watch the avengers or all marvel movies since it's a movie marathon day, and marathons are usually watching a certain thing through not random movies.” Jisung argued back on the opposite side of the couch.

“We’ve already watched all the marvel movies Jisung, I’m not going through that again.” Chenle shook his head, nose scrunching in disgust at the thought.

“Well we didn’t watch them all in proper order, and in one sitting.” Jisung retorted, shoving Chenle for disagreeing with him, stubborn on his choice.

“We can do that another day, how about we just give Renjun’s choice a chance, watch the first ten minutes and if we all think it’s interesting enough we can go for it.” Mark, always the mediator, suggested.

Jisung only rolled his eyes at this sinking further into the couch but not complaining, most definitely holding Mark’s words in his head to use it against him next time they had a movie day. Chenle also for once not having anything to say.

Deeming the reactions good enough from the two youngest, Mark’s gaze shifted over to Renjun who was already searching up the movie, then Donghyuck who was busy fiddling around with a rubix cube oblivious to the debate.

He then looked over at Jeno and Jaemin to see the two were sitting on the ground leaning against the others legs against the couch. He wondered when they’d made up but didn’t question it too hard, just satisfied at the fact they were okay with each other again.

Five minutes into the movie Donghyuck chucked the rubix cube away, causing it to clatter to the ground loudly. Renjun gave him a sharp glare for the noisy interruption causing Donghyuck to raise his hands in mock surrender.

“I’m kicking myself mentally for forgetting our game boy at the store.” Donghyuck whispered, moving his hand down to fiddle with the back of Jaemin’s hair, finger curling around his light brown short styled mullet.

“Don’t forget it next time then.” Jaemin playfully responded, wincing as Donghyuck tugged slightly on the back of his hair in his own retort, using his actions instead of words not wanting to get another glare sent in his direction from Renjun.

Everyone’s eyes glued to their tv in the living room for the next thirty minutes getting into the movie much to Renjun’s satisfaction. Though a buzzing noise followed by an alert sound interrupted the scene they were watching.

“What now!” Renjun groaned out, hands raising in defeat at the next interruption. Everyone looked over towards Mark since the noise had come from his phone. A rule on Movie day was to mute their phones. Though their attention was fully away from the movie with Renjun pausing it when they noticed the serious look on Mark’s face as he opened his phone.

“What is it?” Jeno voiced all their concerns with the question.

“The motion sensors inside went off inside, and camera’s are down. Movie day is on pause.” Mark announced getting up as everyone rushed to follow with thoughts rushing through all their minds. A normal break in? The facility found them?There were a lot of possibilities.

The seven get dressed in a fast manner before leaving their apartment, in a rush forgetting to turn off the television.

“Wait for me!” Chenle complained at their fast pace being the last out the door, one of his shoe’s shoelaces still untied as the rush, lightly pushing the door closed as he raced towards the others down the hallway.

The apartment door slowly closed but as it met the doorframe the door didn’t click like it usually would when closing, the door left just a millimeter ajar.

The seven had split up once arriving. Mark, Renjun, Jisung and Chenle headed to the front entrance whereas Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck went towards the back.

The four at the front stared at the entrance noting no difference on how they’d left it yesterday. No damaged or noticeable change to the door at all. Jisung and Chenle sharing a cautious glance at one another while Mark moved to unlock the entrance with Renjun beside him as backup.

Once open the two strained their ears to hear anything but not a sound was heard, though Renjun’s head tilted slightly asking out cautiously.

“Did you leave any windows open last night during closing up?”

“No, I’m sure I locked up everything like usual. It’s cold, I noticed.” Mark responded, also noticing the cool air that gushed outwards when they’d opened the door.

With a flick of his hand, Jisung and Chenle followed the other two into the building as they walked down the hall towards the lobby.

“What is that?” Jisung questioned as he felt the crunch below his shoes, everyone noticing but no one answering his question as they all walked into the lobby, his question being answered by the sight.

“Ice.” Mark breathed out to answer as he gazed around the lobby, it was as if a winter blizzard had stored through the lobby, appearing out of nowhere only to affect the room.

The four froze in place not from the room’s temperature but because of the only thing they knew could even come close to causing such a fanomina.

As the three walked to the back entrance they were met with an unwelcoming sight to their beloved store they’d poured their heart into.

“The camera is down.” Jeno points out pointing over to the security camera outside not moving nor showing its red light.

“Probably due to this.” Donghyuck chimed in standing next to the fried power box, flinching away as it made a sizzling noise, lips pursed in distaste knowing it would cost money to fix.

“I think that’s the least of our concern, look.” Jaemin points out nodding his head in the direction of the back door, the three moving over to it.

“So they broke in through the back door, bolt cutters?” Donghyuck suggested the way they came in from the fact the lock and chains laid on the concrete ground.

Jaemin squatted down to inspect the damage, eyebrows scrunching in confusion at the sight below him. Hand going down to pick up the lock, inhaling sharply at the feeling of the still warm lock.

“Think a bolt cutter could do this?” Jaemin asked holding the lock upwards so they could see the lock which was malformed, the lock looking as if someone had managed to squeeze it like it had been made out of playdough.

“It’s still warm.” Jaemin whispered out his eyes stuck on the misshapen lock, fingers warmed up now from its heat.

“I wasn’t hallucinating.” Jeno commented thinking back to yesterday seeing as there was only one person who could do something like this, and it looks like they had gotten much stronger.

“Or a flamethrower.” Donghyuck pointed out not wanting to entertain his friends thoughts as he walked through the back door, the two others sharing a glance with on another before following the dark brown haired man into the building.

“You feel that?” Jaemin asked out as they walked closer towards the lobby where they thought the others would be.

“Yes.” Donghyuck responded bluntly knowing he was referring to the sudden cold temperature the three were walking towards.

Jeno pushed past the two picking up his pace to get to the lobby, the other two following closely behind. Though the three were met with a sight to behold, Jeno had to slow down unless he wanted to slip.

The sight being Mark, Renjun, Chenle and Jisung standing in the lobby that had frozen over. Mark looked over at them, his face a mixture of emotions yet it was evident he was holding back tears.

“They came through the back, the lock was melted off.” Jaemin explained to the other four holding up the mangled lock so they could see it as he made his way over to the four.

Donghyuck not moving from where he was standing no longer being able to come up with an excuse, the lock could have been easily explained but this? The lobby, there was only one reason.

Mark moved to grab the lock feeling how it was still warm meaning whoever had done it had not left that long ago.

“It’s her isn’t it?” Jisung broke the now forming silence, letting out a choked noise, his breath fogging in the air around them.

“Why don’t know-” Mark started to speak but was cut off by Jisung as he grabbed the lock grip tight around the warmth, as if trying to grasp onto whatever she’d left behind for them.

“No Mark, there’s no excuses for this. The whole place is frozen over. Last time I checked, that's impossible for a normal person to do. There’s only one person who can cause something like this.” Jisung berated Mark for the fact he wasn’t facing reality.

“She can’t cause this, she can freeze a cup of water yes but this-” Mark tried disagreeing yet again cut off for a second time.

“We don’t know that, Mark, it's been two years. Two years is a long time for people like us to develop our… our abilities.” Renjun tried forming his sentence right while looking around the room. Wondering what exactly she’d been feeling to freeze over the room, if this was what her abilities had become.

Mark shut his eyes briefly to get his grounding back before opening them again to look at his friends.

“If it was her, and that’s a big if. Why would she do this? Why not come when we are open. Why cut the camera feed?” Mark asked out to them to get them to actually think about the situation.

Everyone silent at Mark's words, all on edge at the thought of her having managed to actually escape this time. To be free like them. Since no one spoke up Mark moved away from the lobby towards the staff room as he called out.

“Look around for hints, the intruder could still be here, the lock is still warm.”

Chenle shared a glance with Jisung at Mark’s words, Jisung’s hand tightening on its hold of the lock, feeling that lingering warmth nodding his head as the two went towards the movie room. Renjun made his way towards the old arcade game room grabbing Jeno’s arm as he went to make him follow.

Jaemin and Donghyuck decide to follow Mark towards the staff room, entering together. The two younger moving towards the couch, Jaemin’s hand grazing his hoodie he’d left on the couch yesterday not remembering how he’d left it. Donghyuck moving to sit on the couch, head leaning back to stare up at the ceiling lost in thought.

Mark walked towards the desk, shoulders tensing when he saw the security monitors down before he started looking around his desk to catch any little detail. Though everything was placed exactly how he’d left, all the way down to how his pen was laid on the paperwork. Though one thing caught his attention.

His hand shooting out to grab at his notepad, hands shaking as he read the pretty handwriting he’d complimented at least one hundred times before in the past.

“I miss her.” Chenle spoke absentmindedly from where he sat on the yellow couch looking over at the newly added calendar on the wall.

“We all do.” Jisung muttered from where he was checking every nook and cranny of the room.

“So Jeno really saw her.” Chenle muttered sitting up still staring at the calendar, though he got up walking over to it.

“Maybe.” Jisung half heartedly responded more focused on searching, desperate to find another piece of evidence she had been here.

Chenle thought for a second, moving his hand up, grabbing the calendar where it was flipped to February, the current month, remembering the month they’d escaped two years ago. Hand automatically tugging the calendar off the wall not bothered with the fact he’d managed to tug the nail out of the wall.

Flipping through the months till he landed on what he was looking for. October, that’s the month they’d escaped two years ago. His hands crinkled the calendar page slightly as he stared down at it.

“Jisung.”

“Jisung!”

“What! I’m trying to look around!” Jisung asked, frustrated at his name being called, turning to look over at his black and pink haired friend only to be met with Chenle’s eyes giving him a serious look.

Jisung rushed over glancing down at the colander, stomach tightening at the sight.

October 31st, the date crossed out in a back x with the words written in neat handwriting below it ‘Do you remember?’

“Y/n.” Chenle spoke her name finally, Jisung’s finger gently touched the neat words on the calendar.

“Do you believe me now? That I saw her?” Jeno asked Renjun, though his words didn’t hold any anger.

“Yes, I do now. Mostly” Renjun bluntly responded not knowing how to steer this conversation, too preoccupied with looking around.

Jeno’s hand moving to fiddle with one of the joysticks of a vintage arcade machine before looking up in thought.

“Renjun, what was the one game we got to play? The one we were allowed when we passed an examination.”

At Jeno’s words Renjun silently glanced over at their oldest game in the building, grabbing his friend's arm to walk them towards it.

The pong game. Two lines and a dot that went back and forth. One player could go against a bot or two players could go against each other. The goal of the game was to get the dot to pass the others line to gain points, which in turn could block the other hitting to dot back over to the other side.

The machine from far away looked normal but it wasn’t. It was the only machine that was on.

Player 1 wins.

3-0.

Click to play again.

The two stared at the blinking winner screen.

“She always lost to us. I’m starting to think that was just to see our reactions to winning.” Renjun whispered out. If she could beat the bot she could have easily won against them.

“Do you believe me properly now?” Jeno asked out yet his eyes were glued to the victory screen.

��I believe you Jeno.”

Mark turned towards the other two in the room but before he could say anything Chenle and Jisung walked in. Chenle waved the calendar in the air about to speak but Renjun who’d been two steps behind them snatched it out of Chenle’s hands.

“Seriously Chenle? The calendar again? Not the time.” Renjun scolds Chenle who scoffed, snatching it back pointing out the note left on it.

“More like it is the time. It was finely Y/n, look our escape date the 31st of October is crossed out and not to mention it’s definitely her handwriting, which by the way says ‘Do you remember?’” Chenle smug at the fact Renjun was wrong.

“Alright, right time. Jeno and I found the only game ruining in the retro arcade area was Pong, I don’t think I need to explain why that also screams Y/n.” Renjun didn’t argue back on Chenle’s obvious smugness, too hyper focused on her.

Jeno finally the last to walk into the staff room, eyes zeroing in on the calendar where Chenle was pointing, snatching it out of his hands, reading it ignoring Chenle’s complaints.

“Let’s not fight.” Mark effectively cut off Chenle’s whining as they all looked over at him.

Mark silently holding up the notepad in his hand, it had his scribbled handwriting on most of it no doubt about finance on incoming games they were getting for the store. But at the bottom was unmistakable handwriting belonging to a different person.

“Quite the interesting place you’ve made here, in Seoul no less. You should think about adding some board games to the retro area. Looks like we just missed crossing paths again, what a shame. You’ll be seeing me very soon. No need to sign my name, you know who I am by now.”

Mark had read the words out loud for everyone to hear, his throat closing up at the end. It was no longer just coincidences and a low chance of her being out. She had escaped. She was free from the facility just like they were.

“It’s Y/n… she made it out.” Jisung filled the silence with his words speaking what everyone thought.

“I told you we needed to add more board games.” Chenle added on trying to lighten the mood but stopped at the sharp stares he received in return.

“I don’t understand, why would she not approach me to begin with? Why not approach Jaemin last night? What is she waiting for?” Jeno questioned out, dropping the calendar in the glass table.

“I’m sorry, I think I just misheard you. What do you mean by her not approaching Jaemin?” Donghyuck asked Jeno, his hand moving around the couch he sat on looking for his retro game boy.

“I saw someone lingering outside yesterday out back on the security monitor and went to look, I couldn’t tell who it was since they were wearing a hood, but as they were leaving I thought I saw green hair. I tried calling out to them to wait but they ran, I followed but couldn’t keep up.” Jaemin explained from where he stood next to Donghyuck.

“And you didn’t care to tell any of us? Just Jeno. That’s great.” Donghyuck scoffed out.

“It was just a hunch, besides none of you would have believed me like you didn’t with Jeno.” Jaemin accused jaw clenching in irritation.

“There’s no need to be arguing right now. Jaemin you should have let everyone know anyway, we don’t keep things away from each other. Look she said we’d be seeing her soon, so until then we wait. We have all the time in the world to ask our questions when she shows up again.” Mark sternly set the lines for everyone.

“So we just wait? Who knows what soon means to her. I’d rather go find her but I guess we just listen to you Mark, like how we listened to you on leaving her behind in the first place.” Donghyuck now riled up as he stood from the couch.

“Stop talking before you regret what you say. We all left that day. We’ll deal with the mess in the lobby later for now we are heading home.” Mark officially ended the conversation trying not to get angry at Donghyuck knowing fully well that emotions were at one hundred percent as of current.

“At least put the calendar back up, Chenle, before we go.” Renjun sighed, hand moving to rub at his face.

“The nail is missing somewhere on the floor.”

“Run now, before I hit you with the calendar.”

The seven had made it back to the apartment, tension thick in the air causing a silent ride home. Making their way towards the apartment now.

“Renjun, did you pause the movie before we left?” Mark asked as his hand moved to type in the key code on the security pad to open the front door.

Renjun only gave a hum, confirming he’d paused it as they all got inside, slipping their shoes off.

“I thought you said you paused it?” Mark asked, confused as he heard the tv from the entrance as it played.

“I did pause it.” Renjun stiffly responded, eyes narrowing towards the living room area.

His sentence was the only thing needed for everyone to move towards the living room cautiously, not bothering to put on their house slippers.

As the seven made it to the living room they were met with nothing out of place. The movie Billy Elliot was halfway over still playing on the tv, but the remote was still in the place Renjun had left it in.

“I swear I paused it.” Renjun claimed a hand going through his hair in pure confusion wondering if he’d just thought about pausing it and having forgotten to actually do it.

“Sure thing Jun.” Chenle patted his shoulder mockingly moving to sit back in his spot he’d sat at previously been sitting at before they’d all rushed out.

Everyone followed after Chenle, taking their spots again, everyone but Donghyuck. He stood there taking in a deep breath closing his eyes. The others watched him as he stood next to the living room table.

A split second, a flying object headed towards Donghyuck, blurring past. His hand automatically caught it before it could hit his face, eyes snapping open. Though as he gazed towards the direction it had come from he was speechless. Everyone tensed in their spots having also looked over.

Donghyuck’s hand clenching around the retro game boy. The one he’d sworn he’d left on the blue couch only to not be able to find it when they’d gone. Music flooding out of the speaker, signally someone had beat the level he and Jaemin had been struggling on for two days now

The figure took four light footed steps into the living room, before stopping. Moving to pull the hood of their hoodie down. Tilting their head as they looked over each familiar face there.

“I thought Glitch mode was fancy, but you all seem to have a great apartment too. Hello boys, did you miss me?” Y/n’s words echoing through the living room.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

Text

Azriel x Reader | Till Death Do Us Part? pt. II

type: angst warning(s): depressive thoughts, gloomy, mentions of war, mentions of death and loss word count: 1.8k words summary: based on this request: Azriel is shattered over the loss of his mate, his life no longer makes sense until one day when he sees her again. He cannot believe his eyes–this is his mate. Only problem she does not remember him or what they once had and moreover is now part of his sworn nemesis’ court–the Autumn Court.

masterlist

Azriel’s feet are rooted to the ground. He cannot move. He cannot breathe. His soul comes alive, the bond, dull and dead for so long, starts to glow again when Azriel’s eyes trail over your figure. It is true. This is you. There is no mistaking. This is you.

His mate. His lover. His wife. His homes. His once believed dead mate. How is that possible.

His knees give in first when Azriel tumbles forward only getting caught by Cassian in the last moment before he made friends with the ground.

“I assume you saw what I saw?” Cassian questions when he steadies his brother, holding him up, having a tight grip on his upper arms. “This can’t be. This is—“ “It is her,” Azriel rasps, slowly getting back his grounding. His holds himself up by the general’s arms until his knees no longer feel so wobbly.

How is that possible. You died —have died— in his arms. He held your head when you inhaled your last breath, when your chest made its last heave, when your heart did its last beat. How could you stand here now? This was not possible. But at the same time there is no denying that this is you. You look just like the same. You walk just like the same. Your facial expression are exactly the same.

Azriel threatens to lose his grounding again but before he knows what he is doing his legs carry him over the ground. He is determined, shoving Cassian who is trying to hold him back away. He ignores Nesta's and Cassian’s words of worry, their words of caution, telling him to stop, to come back, to not go over immediately.

Azriel ignores it all, there is only one target and that is you. He has to see you, speak to you, hear your voice again. He has to find out if it is really you.

Maybe once up close he is hit in the face with the realisation that he has been mistaken. That right in front of him there is another person. That this is not indeed you.

But even when only one metre away from you he knows, he is one hundred percent sure, that this is you, his mate, standing right there, behind Eris.

Is the mother playing tricks on him? Is she mocking him for something? Is this a payback for all the lives he has taken in his life?

He bolts through the crowd, making a beeline for you, regardless of all the people he is shoving out of the way, his wings tugged in tightly. His whole body is shaking, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage, hammering in his throat and cold sweat breaks out on the back of his neck and his palms.

Air wheezes out of his lungs, when dread collides with disbelief, making his soul split into a million parts.

The spymaster comes to a quick halt right in front of you, Eris currently not paying attention so his has to take his chance. Your gaze moves to the male who suddenly stopped next to you and for a long moment you forget how to breathe.

He has robbed you of air to breathe and of thoughts to think. Your mind is blank when you take in the stunning male right next to you.

“Is this possible?” he breathes, his eyes trailing over every small details, the ones he has loved to kiss and worship in the past, while his hands are balled into fists at his sides. He is worried he might touch you, making sure you are really real. You lift your gaze, lips parting slightly while you assess him. You find yourself unable to speak for a moment, he is the most beautiful male you have every seen and something seems so familiar about him.

Through dry and parted lips you say, “What is possible?”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs when you watch shadows appear from behind the male, smoothing over his shoulders, stretching out, and his wings flare a little bit. He is cruel, stunning beauty, mysterious and lethal and every part of you wants to get to know him.

But Azriel, Azriel he fins himself in shock. The clueless expression on his face, the questioning eyes — you don’t know him. You don’t remember him. How is that possible? How can you not remember him? After all you have shared, after all you have been through. How can you stand here, right in front of him, all flesh and blood, breathing, alive, but having no remembrance of who he is. Azriel knows, that he has once been your everything, your mate, your husband, your home, your life, your world.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, clamping his eyes shut to keep the building dampness in. “You don’t remember?” he questions, his voice barely above a whisper, lips only slightly parted.

“What? What should I remember?” you ask, your heart squeezing at the pain in his eyes. “What is your name? Maybe this helps?”

His throat starts to burn, constricts. Azriel wants to open his mouth, but is interrupted.

“Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court.” Eris steps between you and Azriel, shielding you form the tall, dark male. “My spymaster, Y/N.”

His whole body trembles at your name. You still have your name, so there is truly no mistaking.

But his spymaster? This has to be a nightmare. The most cruel and painful nightmare ever, but why does he not wake? Why is there no waking up from this. It can’t be real. There is no logical explanation for it.

“Am I not here as your guard, High Lord?” you say, your voice a tone playful when you glance at Eris from the side. Eris chuckles lowly and Azriel’s heart sinks into his lower belly, shattering when it hits the bottom. Why are you acting like this around Eris? Haven’t you loathed him once as well?

“Lady Y/N, I am, but I am also here to tell you—“ Eris gives Azriel a once over— “to stay away from this male.” Eris crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “And you are not to speak to my spymaster.” “And you are not to tell me or her what to do. She seems like a grown female, she can speak for herself.” That rattles you somehow. That this random male speaks up for you like that.

You smile at Eris and give your head a little shake. “The spymaster of the night is right. I am a grown female and I can speak for myself, but if you do not wish for me to interact with anyone from another court this is fine.”

It is not fine, Azriel thinks, his soul yearning and he wonders why your soul isn’t feeling the same. The problem is, you cannot quite place the odd feeling in your soul. It feels like longing, but what would you be longing for?

“Good,” Eris says and a smile full of pride spreads over his face. “We shall meet the High Lord now, excuse us,” —his voice turns low and dark— “spymaster.”

You want to move past said spymaster, but he is quicker, softly grabbing you by your shoulder which makes you wince. It is his grip, how softly he holds you that makes something like memories spark in your mind. Like a deja-vu.

“I need to talk to you later. It is urgent,” Azriel rasps, his throat so damn dry. He looks deep into your eyes, hoping to convince you that way, have you loved his eyes so much back then.

You slowly dip your chin and part your lips. “About business?”

Azriel wants to say, ‘no about us’, ‘about what has once been’, ‘about our bond’, but he does not. He slowly nods his chin. “Yes, about business. Security business, from one spymaster to another.”

It makes sense, but you don’t really buy his lie. It is obviously a lie, his posture, how he has said it, how he acts have given him away. You feel like you know him, know that he is lying. But still you find yourself agreeing to his suggestion. You want to know what he has to say. You need to know it.

And so he, hesitantly and not wanting to, lets go of you arm, letting you slip out of his hold, just like back then when you died in his arms.

And he lets you go after him, after his nemesis. After the person he hates so much and that you seem to have come to like.

This feels like a dagger piercing right through his heart. Anguish about the talk later on collides with panic over you being in Eris grip collides in side of him and makes a kernel of dread bloom in his chest. Azriel wipes his sweaty palms down his pants when a hand clasps his shoulder tightly.

“It is her?” Cassian asks behind him and all Azriel can do is nod. After a long moment he brings out a yes.

And then waiting for you — it is dreadful, long, Azriel’s heart finding no rest in his chest. But, even though you don’t remember him, he finds peace in seeing you alive. His soul slowly heals and he revels in the feeling. It is warm, tastes like honey, feels like a summer evening. Love.

Azriel hasn’t felt this in so long and he knows, he is sure, that he can make you his once again. You have fallen for him once, he could manage that again. There is another chance for you.

A smile, fully on its own accord, spreads over the shadowsinger’s face when his eyes follow you through the room. He just ignores whom you are trailing after, after that night you will be his again, the High Lord of Autumn long forgotten when you are in his arms again.

A spark of hope ignites inside of Azriel, colliding with the soft feeling of happiness when you turn around and tilt your head towards the door, signalling that you can talk now.

And so you end up in the corridor outside the throne room before Azriel leads you to a chamber, a study apperently, close by and closes the door behind you two.

“So? Business?” you asks, leaning against the table and staring at him. Your tunic parts slightly and your dagger is revealed which has Azriel grinning — oh, you always used to do this.

“Not business,” Azriel says, his voice low, shaking slightly. “We have to talk about us?” “Us?” you question and raise a brow. “There is no us.”

“But there once was.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess

taglist for TDDUP: @ladylokilaufeyson5 @buckysimp101 @autumndreaming7 @lucyysthings @feiwelinchen @kemillyfreitas @margssstuff @im-bili @goldentournesol @leeknows-wife @waywardcasbutt @reiincarnatiion @thesongofselene

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel fic #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

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tapakah0 · 8 months

Note

Ok all done. Here's this part. Don't know if there will be any more in the future.

I'd like to thank you and Cass for bringing me out of my long writer's block. I'd forgotten what it felt like to just let my mind go blank and throw words together to make a story.

Her breath hitched as she fell. Unable to catch herself, she her face slammed into the soft dirt.

"Ugh," she groaned as she pushed herself up. Much as she wanted to stay down for a much needed rest, she had to keep going. She didn't know how long she'd been running, or if her pursuers were still on her trail, but staying in one place for too long was practically a death sentence no matter the circumstances.

"Stupid cloak," she hissed out, taking the edges of said cloak and throwing them over her shoulder, turning it into more of a cape. The full-body cover had saved her life countless times, but it still got in the way here and there.

A twig snapped behind her, making her jump. She leapt backwards, stealthily sliding into place behind a tree. After a few moments, she peeked out to see what may have made that noise.

Nothing.

She had to keep moving.

Turning towards the direction she'd been running when she so gracefully face planted into the dirt, she took off. Her speed unmatched by most, she could duck and weave through practically any obstacles with expert ease. This was how she survived. Her small rabbit body prevented her from having the strength or reach to take on most beings in this world in an actual fight, so her survival depended on her ability to outrun her opponents. Hiding was also a skill she'd taken to using against predators. Her cleverness had saved her more times than she could count.

But she couldn't keep running.

Not right now.

She'd been running for almost two days. Her body was sore. She was covered in dirt, bumps, scrapes, and bruises. She could hardly feel her legs, and she was beginning to realize her latest meeting with the ground had left her with a growing headache she knew would be pounding soon.

She needed a place to stop. But she was in the middle of a forest she couldn't gauge the size of. Maybe she could burrow? No, no. Last time she did that she accidentally invaded someone else's underground home and had made herself another enemy who chased her down for about a week. She couldn't afford that risk right now. She was too tired to be capable of analyzing where she was digging to be sure she didn't repeat that mistake. Climbing a tree was no good either. Things lived in the trees. She'd only seen them once, but that had been enough to ward her off ever encountering them.

Suddenly, up ahead to the right, there was a gleam. She looked again to find a spot in the trees where a little more sun poked through than there should be.

A clearing.

Well that would be a death sentence as well. A clearing in the trees would put her out in the open. She'd have to avoid that spot.

A last glance told her something was already in the clearing.

She stopped, jumping into a bush to hide herself. Poking out through the leaves, she stared hard at the opening in the trees, trying to make out what she's seen.

A building.

It was definitely a building.

It was too dark and smooth to be anything natural.

That would have to do.

She darted forward, sticking to shadows and bushes in hopes that whoever may be watching her wouldn't see her heading towards the building. Hopefully whoever was inside wouldn't also develop a want for her head on a wall.

Coming up on the clearing, she realized it wasn't a clearing at all. It was the end of the forest. Weird. The trees hadn't changed like they should have. Beyond the trees was a wide field that gave way to an ocean just a mile or so away from the forest.

Sitting just outside the edge of the trees was a small group of buildings. It wasn't even enough to be a village, and they were all severely under-maintained. They had obviously been put together quickly, though no efforts had been made to better their quality in the time they'd been standing, which was obviously a few years at this point.

She didn't stop to wonder about the existence of this small popup of civilization. Moving quickly, she made her way towards the first building she had seen against the trees. She grabbed the handle, relief washing over her at the discovery that it was indeed unlocked, and shoved her way inside, closing the door quickly behind her.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, she looked up to see she was in a....bar?

It looked like a bar. There were tables scattered around the room, various knick-knacks on the walls, and a few people sitting around drinking from glasses and bottles. Opposite the door, at the other side of the building, there was indeed a bar, with shabby, well-used stools along the edge of it. There were bottles of what appears to be alcohol along the wall behind it, but that's not what caught her attention.

It was the.....being.....behind the bar.

All she could see was from the waist up, but that was enough to tell her this person was not normal. Even in this world. They looked organic and robotic at the same time. There were two orange glowing eyes on a void-black face, and a jagged mouth that cracked open their entire skull, when they opened it, almost like a snake. There were....horns?....on the back of their head. Where those meant to be horns or long ears? They were sitting where ears would normally be. They also had four arms, which were moving fluidly around the bar to quickly meet the needs of a customer sitting on a stool. Their entire body looked to be housing some kind of warm flame, the lines spreading over their face, chest, and arms glowing a yellowish-orange. The strangest sight, possibly, was that the being seemed to be somewhat....attached......to the building. Wires came from their back, connecting to the ceiling and the wall at all different angles.

It was a strange sight for sure, and it was enough to make her pause in her panic to contemplate if she was really safer here than outside.

The bartender didn't give her enough time to think, however, as they'd finished serving the patron and had turned their attention towards her, still leaned against the front door.

"Well, hello there!" They chirped in a cheery voice. Much too cheery for her liking. "How can I help you today?"

She blinked, coming back to her senses. Slowly, she pushed herself off the door and cautiously made her way over to the bar. She got a wiff of something delicious from one of the tables she passed, and suddenly she remembered she hadn't eaten in at least a day, and had had nothing proper in over a week, made evident as her stomach growled and rumbled at the smell.

"Just, uh..." She started, not sure what to say, exactly. She hadn't really talked to anyone in a while. At least not someone who didn't want her dead. "Just passing through, I guess."

"Well you've chosen the best place to stop for a rest. I've got whatever you need."

They turned and grabbed a bottle of something she'd never seen before and began pouring it into a glass as they faced her again.

"So what do you need?" They asked, sliding the glass towards her. "I've got all kinds of illegal deadly stuff."

She stared at the glass, then at the bartender, trying to figure out if that was a joke and if maybe she really should just leave.

Her stomach growled again.

She sighed in defeat.

"Do you have some food?"

They blinked at her, smile never leaving their face, before turning towards a large panel on the wall in the middle of all the bottles. Warmth hit her face as they opened it and reached inside, and she had to close her eyes to the sudden change. She heard the panel close and opened her eyes to see them setting a plate down in front of her. The smell hit her hard, and she no longer cared whether this person was trustworthy or not. Her hunger consuming her, she grabbed whatever was on the plate and shoved it into her mouth.

The being watched her with a soft smile as they poured another glass of something from a different bottle. They slid the glass across the counter towards someone sitting at the other side of the bar, replacing a glass patron had just emptied.

"You're pretty small," the bartender started. "You don't have a lot of meat on you. If you don't mind me asking, how have you survived this long?"

"I'd say I'm pretty good at hiding. You know, I'm pretty fast and-" the food was too much for her fried system. She got lost in it for a moment, forgetting her surroundings.

"Oh my God, foooooood..." She groaned between bites. The bartender chuckled, bringing her back to the moment. She swallowed and looked up into their magma-like eyes.

Wait. Illegal deadly stuff? She looked around the walls. Many useless items, it had looked at first. Junk. But now that she really looked, she could tell that's just what it was supposed to look like. To the untrained eye. To someone who knew what to look for, these were weapons. Components for weapons. Tech parts that could be used to build practically anything, even super computers and cybernetic attachments.

She looked back at the Eldritch being in front of her, weighing her options as an idea sparked in her brain. Maybe finding this place had been fortuitous. Maybe this would work out for her.

"And I know some places....if you need."

Their head tilted as they quirked an eyebrow. Or, more, moved one eyelid down. They didn't really have eyebrows, though she could tell even through those glowing pupil-less eyes that they seemed to be evaluating her.

"If I need....what?"

She gestured to the walls.

"I'm sure it's not easy to get this stuff. I'd be willing to be your gopher, so to speak, in return for food and shelter. Maybe a little money, if you got it."

The bartender contemplated for a minute.

"What's your name?"

She hesitated. Was this being trustworthy? What if the people looking for her came asking? Would she even be seen as worthy of lying for? Of protecting? She sighed. Not like any of that really mattered at this point. And she didn't have to give her full name either.

"You can call me Tap."

"Tap? That's a cute name." Their smile somehow widened, cracking open their face even further. She heard some movement on the other side of the bar, then felt something on her leg. Looking down, she froze at the sight of wires poking towards her. Realizing the wires were attached to something, she followed the inky blackness they were wrapped around to see what looked like a tail curling around the bar. She looked back at the bartender.

They're a lot bigger than she'd thought. What is this....person?

"You can call me Cass," they said, voice dripping with charming honey. They reached out a hand, offering it up for a handshake. "You're hired."

OH MY GOD, I JUST MIXED IT WITH ANOTHER FIC (by @compressedrage) AND IT IS PERFECTLY MIXED OH GOD

I can't with you all, I love it!!!

#dystopia au #there are details that I really really like #That are YES #my little happiness

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