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tavyliasin · 4 months

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ATG 9 - Mouse? Rat.

(In which a mirror is met, and a trap is set)

Pairing: Haarlep/Tav SPICE Rating: 4/5 Content Warnings: Sex, BDSM, Power Play, Aphrodisiacs,

Spoilers Act 3, House of Hope Canon Compliance Canon Is Wobbly - Technically there is some canon detail of what House of Hope is like, and if we really stretch we can fit this in to the canon. But it's probably going off course, we're heading towards uncharted waters now so we can sail free. Canon gave us the start, the foundation, set our course out of the dock. Now we head on into our own waves, going where the wind takes us. Other Notes This chapter ends on a cliffhanger because it was getting too long to do everything I wanted in one go. So we have a split, then we will come back in write where it stops... Song/Mood The Cabaret of Dreams - Seven Spires "I will be your host this eve, So sit back, relax, and I guarantee If you take it, embrace it, succumb to the dark, Escape into a night where no one knows who you are, You crave it, awake it, the coeur bizarre, Lose yourself to the twisted art. Hey! Don't be afraid Hey! You'll be amazed Let your demons out Let your spirit free It's only gonna cost you your soul." ----- FULL CHAPTER BELOW THE CUT -----

It had been a day . That was about as positively as Tavylia could spin it as she prepared another hop across the broken rock face above fields of lava, once again questioning every single life choice that had lead her to this moment. Not much further, just keep going. That was the mantra now, one foot in front of the other, and hope you still had both feet still attached at the end of the day.

It had been a whole week, really. Their arrival in the city had been filled with more and more dangers. Even with Ketheric gone, there was still Orin and Gortash, the pair of them both more than willing to draw Tav to their side in order to destroy each other and claim power solely for themselves.

Then there was Raphael. Because of course he would be waiting wherever she went. ---

They’d first met again in a brothel of all places, which had done nothing to help Tav’s conflicted mood. He’d spoken to her the same way as always, not a single mention of the “dream” that plagued her mind in every quiet moment, and the constant slipping in and out of seductive flirting and vicious mockery was eroding the last shred of patience in her soul.

“And what if I don’t need to turn against the Emperor? He has kept all of us safe for a long time now.” She wasn’t sure she believed it, but contradicting Raphael was fast becoming her favourite hobby.

“I didn’t take you for that much of a fool , Little Mouse. Perhaps I should’ve offered you a bag of beans when we first met? That could’ve saved a lot of time.” Even as he sneered, it looked like he was half undressing her, body and mind. The scented perfumes in the room, the luxurious pool behind him, and the edge of a bed visible behind the dividing wall were all adding to a simple equation. The solution was not one that could be settled with paper, pencil, and abacus.

Fuck you, Tav thought, but her mouth gave different words to the sentiment. “You don’t even have beans, do you? Besides, everything about you screams that you should not be trusted, whilst the Emperor is capable of actually displaying compassion.” Oops.

“Oh good gods, you didn’t sleep with it, did you?” A look of horror crossed his face, and Tav could hear Lae’zel physically gag behind her. “Of all the depravity in all the nine hells… It’s using you, Little Mouse, selling you a sweet little story to get what it wants before it discards you, or worse it’ll turn you into a creature just like itself. I had thought you wished to avoid that particular fate, at least.”

Tav remembered, as he’d mentioned before, that Raphael had a habit of shielding them from the Emperor’s view. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be the one using him?” She was suddenly glad she had left Astarion at camp to relax today, as she didn’t want him to misunderstand what she said next. “Emotion can be a weakness, a weapon. If he were to turn on me, I already have another card in my hand.”

“Oh, very impressive, Little Mouse,” he replied, in the most patronising tone he could muster - an impressive feat given how patronising his usual tone was anyway, “you really think that will be enough? I can offer you something else, a trump card for your deck.”

“Don’t tell me, it involves another deal?” she glared, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So you do have a little intellect left in that pretty little head of yours! Obviously nothing in life is free, but we made a deal before, did we not? I kept my end of the bargain, you kept yours - quite the lucrative relationship, wouldn’t you say?” His smile widened a little, more small gestures almost like a bow. Always the same dance, Tav thought to herself, considering his words. Hold on did he call me pretty?! She pulled her thoughts together again. “I can’t deny that. The answer was hardly satisfying, though, and we’re still far from resolving that particular issue.” “Ah ah ah, Little Mouse, you know that I never promised resolution to the problem. I told you the meaning of what was written on your lover’s back, no more, no less. And you killed my old enemy for me, no more, no less.” “Fine. Deal done. What do you suggest this time? Just more words?” she couldn’t resist pushing him right to the edge of his patience, delighting in watching him lose his composure for just a moment as his jaw clenched a little too hard. The Cambion smoothed his hair down casually, though not a single strand had been out of place. “Actually, this time we will be needing more than a simple verbal contract. I’m afraid you’ll need to sign on the dotted line.” “I’m not saying yes without details.” Tav put her hands on her hips, glaring a challenge towards him.

“Always so ferocious, aren’t you? You can keep your daggers to yourself, for now. I’m not even asking for your soul, my aim is not to own you.” He smiled, with unnerving charm. “I’ll even sweeten the deal and pay may half in full first. A gesture of goodwill, if you like.” “Remarkably generous, for a fiend. What exactly are you offering?” Tav couldn’t help the insults, but her curiosity was piqued. “Orpheus.” He said plainly, for one horrifying moment making Tav wonder if he actually knew what had happened with the Emperor. If her reaction showed on her face, Raphael was ignoring it. “I can give you the means to free Orpheus from his prison, and in turn he can free you from the hold of the illithid creature and solve that little tadpole problem for you. He won’t take any convincing to help you with your final foe, either.”

“You sound very sure of yourself. What’s the guarantee he won’t just murder us all on sight for having the tadpoles in our minds in the first place?” “He won’t.” Lae’zel spoke up from behind her. Tav had almost forgotten anyone else was in the room. “Kithrak Voss. I’ll speak with him, I am certain he will aid us when the moment comes, and Orpheus will be on our side.” “See?” Raphael’s voice took on a musical tone for a moment. “You’ll be just fine . Besides, you’ve made it this far, have you not? I don’t make pointless bets, either. I have the hammer, a particular weapon that is the only way you can free the Gith Prince from his prison, and I’m willing to give it to you right now.” Tav considered him, eyes scanning every inch of his body language and expression for the barest hint of a lie. She found nothing. “And if it’s not my soul you want in return, what is it?” “The Crown.” He replied, simply and without any of the usual dancing around the point. It was almost unnerving. “Bring me the crown once you have defeated your foes, and consider our deal complete.”

Easy enough, on the face of it. But he was not the only one looking for it, and Tav wasn’t about to just sign anything without giving it a lot more thought first. “I’m not saying yes, but I’m also not saying no. I’m not foolish enough to erase a possible advantage, but I’m not about to just sign without reading all of the small-print.” “For once, Little Mouse, you’ll find the page to be really quite clear, no lines to read between, no secret catch. But if you insist on struggling pointlessly against the tide, well, just remember who to call when you’re running out of breath beneath the waves.” He held out one hand facing up, then briefly covered it with his other hand. When he revealed his palm again, a pair of small smooth stones glinted in the light. They looked fairly plain, and yet entirely identical. “Sending Stones. Simple little trick, consider it free of charge. When you are out of luck, preferably before you start growing tentacles, use this. Call out to me, and I will come to you. Then we can finalise our deal.” “That sounds remarkably fair of you.” Tav looked at the stones with suspicion, before picking one up and turning it over in her hand as if inspecting it for traps. “There’s no point overcomplicating things. I have what you need, and you can get what I want. Still, you ask for time, and I can be patient. For now. But consider, how long do you truly have left? Tick tock, Little Mouse, don’t wait 'til the final hour to beg at my feet. You’re smarter than that, at least.” He bowed with a flourish, though he didn’t break eye contact. “Until then, unless I see you sooner.”

---

Tav had almost slammed the door when she left, still feeling the smug look following her as she left the brothel. She had half a mind to spend some coin and a couple of hours with some of the staff just to blow off some steam, but there was little chance for peace with her companions insisting on talking over the pros and cons of the contract. Afterwards, another week had passed, but in that time the bitch Orin grew impatient and took Halsin from their camp, which is why Tav was now about to hop across a broken balcony in the middle of Avernus of all places. She didn’t want to imagine what he might be suffering through while they searched, so she had decided to try a new angle. The House of Hope. Raphael’s mansion. An expensive ritual to open the portal, but it had to be worth it. She would make sure of that. “Stay out here,” she turned to her companions as she eyed up the balcony above, “if I need help I’ll send you a signal.”

“I’m sorry? You’re waltzing in through the window of the devil’s bedchambers and you want us to, what, go and read a book while we wait? Darling I know you’ve been reckless recently but this is too much.” Astarion looked genuinely worried, like one step wrong and he would shatter. “You have your disguises, I have the scrolls Gale gave me. If you can find anything in his archives that could help us find Orin and get Halsin back…it’s worth the risk. I can handle Raphael, don’t worry. Besides, apparently he isn’t home. It should be easy to take a little peek at his secrets.” She did her best to reassure him, even though she knew they were getting desperate. “I’m with Astarion on this one, but I’m well aware that trying to change your mind is futile.” Gale turned back to his companions, preparing to leave.

Shadowheart also laying a hand on the pale elf’s shoulder behind him. “She’ll be fine, somehow. Gods know she’s manage to stay alive this far.” The cleric shot Tav the kind of look that said don’t you dare prove me wrong, I will not speak kindly at your funeral if you mess this up. “Stick to the plan,” Tav said, “it’s the best chance we have. Oh and stay away from Hope for now, she risks drawing too much attention. Rule 1, remember? I’ll meet you in the entrance hall later.” As the others turned back the way they’d come, Tav steeled her nerves, swigging from a potion of leaping to give herself the extra strength to make it on to the balcony edge. ---

Tav almost immediately regretted not trying to quickly switch outfits before stepping into the lavishly decorated room. She was fairly certain that Raphael wasn’t home, especially from how Hope had spoken when they arrived through the portal. The plan was just to gather a little information, maybe see what they could learn about Raphael’s own plans before deciding whether handing him an item of immense power was just a step too reckless. But reckless, it seemed, was becoming the theme of the day. She stepped through the open balcony door cautiously, peering inside the room.

Well, shit, this is awkward. Laying on the bed in his full devilish form was Raphael, dressed in what could only be described as the sluttiest leather harness that Tav had ever seen in her life. He turned lazily to look towards her, eyes travelling the full course of her body with a hunger that she could feel , even from this distance. He beckoned her closer, but remained on the silk sheets, chalice of wine in hand. “A lost little mouse is running through the house, a thief in the night, greedy and here to take. Why are you here, little thief?” His poetry was familiar at least, but there was something else…different. “Raphael? You look… I wasn’t expecting you to be home, and certainly not dressed like that. ” She tried in vain to prevent her gaze travelling across his form, rippling muscles just beneath crimson skin, lined with veins and a few little ridges that marked his body as just beyond human. Of course, the large wings, tail, and the viciously curved horns growing from his forehead were decidedly less human than the form she was most accustomed to seeing him in. However, it seemed like her reaction had amused him, as he began to laugh. “Raphael? Ha! No.” The voice turned colder, a sharp edge to the speaker's words now. “You will have a far crueller master than Raphael, soon. But what inspired you to pay him a visit?” Shit, Tav thought, but if it’s not him…who the fuck-“Come on, little thief, out with it. Why in all the hells did you sneak in through the bedroom balcony of the Archduke Raphael? If you had an invitation, the door would be open to you, and you certainly are not dressed like someone who belongs in here . The disguise will not fool me, you’re no debtor either.” Despite the harsh words, they seemed more amused than furious. As if this entirely unexpected turn of events was entertaining, rather than an invasion.

“Well, I’m in a little trouble.” She began, hesitating at the fiery eyes seeming to burn through her. Somehow, this one was more intimidating than Raphael, shaking her usually cocky foundation. “ That , Little Thief, is obvious . Nobody is foolish to turn up in this House when they have any other option.” They took a sip of wine now, gesturing for Tav to go on. “I’m not here for his deals, not yet. I was looking for some answers first.” She paused again. It was extremely distracting to be stood there looking down at the almost naked object of several quietly kept fantasies just laying on the bed. It was unnerving. “Actually, the first question - if you’re not Raphael, who are you? And why do you look just like him?” “I am Raphael’s personal incubus, glamoured to look just. Like. Him. He’s so terribly vain, only wanting to sleep with himself, but you know what they say. Better the devil you know. Usually information does not come for free, but I suppose we shall consider this a trade. Names next, then? Mine is Haarlep. You would do well to keep that in mind, you may find yourself in need of it.” They licked their lips idly as they continued to observe her. “Your turn, Thief.” “Tavylia.” she replied, eyes drawn to their lips involuntarily. “Tav, usually.”

“Ah so it is you. The Little Mouse that has the cat’s fur standing on end.” Haarlep seemed more intrigued now, sitting up a little to take a better look at the increasingly uncomfortable elf stood before them. “I’ve heard all about you. ” The emphasis increased with every word, as each syllable travelled across the room with an enticing intensity. “Then you have me at a disadvantage. I know nothing of you.” She stood stiffly, trying to keep at least a little of her pride intact as their gaze burned right through her. “Of course not, I’m his dirty little secret. ” They laughed, draining the last of their wine and placing the chalice on the bedside. “And you have been quite the thorn in his side. He might call you Little Mouse, but now I look at you… Little Mouse doesn't suit you, no, you're more like a rat. You actually stand a chance against a cat, if you're clever enough. Unfortunately for you, I'm no house cat. You'll find me considerably closer to a tiger than to the pet you've been playing with until now.” Tav felt the familiar prickling of danger running up her spine, every alarm blaring in her mind that she had walked into the wrong room at the wrong time, but still another part of her had control and was quite unwilling to leave just yet.

“Well, my little Rat Thief, now the introductions are over…” They stood from the bed now, raising to their full height, wings stretching out behind them in an impressive display. Even their eyes seemed to blaze with a brighter fire than before, the heat making the air stifling. “Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable without those old rags?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tav would’ve taken a step backwards, had she found any strength in her legs to move at all. “I told you, Rat, that I already know all about you. So you have nothing left to trade if you want more answers from me.” They stepped closer, the heat from their body almost unbearable, the scent of cinnamon drifting enticingly from their skin. “It is entirely your choice. I’ll allow you to leave, if you wish, empty handed. Or, if you really want to know some of Raphael’s dirty little secrets , we can play a game. If you win, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” their voice lowered to a seductive growl, “but you’ll enjoy it far more if you lose.” Stopping just short of where she stood, they kept their eyes locked on Tav’s. She took her time to consider their words, and what they seemed to be implying. If Raphael truly is only interested in sex with his own form, well I’m shit out of luck. He’s just been playing the angle for the contract… But an incubus? Far simpler, right? They desire lust, sex, and will naturally gain something from the act…but what? “Alright, Haarlep, but I want to know the rules first. ”

“That’s cute, that you think you can make a demand of me. I can see where your eyes drift, Rat, and I promise you I can be everything you dream of, and more. ” They let their gaze wander over her body now, a direct challenge. “I can even, if you prefer, take a softer form. Raphael occasionally enjoys the pleasures,” they paused as their body shimmered and transformed into what could only be described as a feminine twin of Raphael, voice to match as they continued, “the very many pleasures of the Archduchess. The choice is yours, but you must agree to the game before we can play, Rat.” The new nickname was beginning to grate on Tav’s nerves, and yet every time Haarlep spoke, she felt more and more drawn towards them. It was becoming impossible to lie, as if the truth of her desire were being drawn from within simply by being in their presence. “Usually, I do not mind the body I lay with, as long as the experience is worth it.” She swallowed now, her mouth suddenly dry. “But…I have found myself wanting Raphael, all of him.” “Well then, Little Rat, far be it from me to disappoint,” another gesture and the cambion form shifted again to the masculine shape that plagued Tav’s dreams of late, “you shall have what you desire. And you shall find it far more pleasant than the company of the Archduke himself . ” Tav found herself sighing involuntarily, taking a step towards them, reaching out to touch-

“Ah ah ah, Rat, patience. I will only give you two rules. The way out of our game is simple; the same as any other, if you wish to cede defeat, all you need do is say Meow. Or, if for some reason your tongue is unable to form the word, simply hum it. I will know, and you will be free to leave. From what I’ve heard, however, I doubt you will have use for it.” They reached out a hand towards Tav, stopping with their finger less than a millimeter from her lips, denying the touch that she craved. “My second rule, is that you only ever refer to me by my proper name. And I assure you, you will want to before we are through.” “Wait…” Tav spoke, desperate to do anything but wait. “What do you get from this?” “Simple. I get you. I’ve been watching for some time, listening, and you are so very entertaining. Am I not entitled to a little fun, too? I hear you even had fun with an illithid ! I must say I am impressed by that experiment of yours. Even I have not indulged in the particular flesh of a Mindflayer. But enough of that, what do you say? Will you step back out the way you came? Or are you going to take off those awful rags, so we can enjoy ourselves more freely.” Their finger still lingered tantalisingly close to Tav’s lips, without giving her the satisfaction of contact even if she moved closer.

“I…agree to your terms, Haarlep.” The incubus’s wing’s seemed to flutter slightly as she spoke their name, barely above a whisper. She was rewarded by the briefest touch, the tip of their nail tracing down their cheek to beneath her chin, lifting it towards them as they bend to speak close to her ear. “Excellent decision~” they purred, the reverberations of their voice alone travelling directly through Tav’s entire body, almost falling to the floor as their tongue teased the pointed tip of her ear, “now take your clothes off and lay on the bed.”

No sooner had they given the order, they stepped away leaving a vast emptiness in the space they had just occupied. They never took their eyes off her, but walked slowly around to the opposite side of the massive bed. The clothes were hardly enticing, but Tav knew when she was being tested. She removed each item swiftly, but with purpose and grace in her movements. At least she had been able to keep her own underwear beneath the debtor's disguise. She paused now, watching them for any reaction.

"I don't believe I told you to stop, Rat. Keep going…" Their eyes were burning with a cool fire, flickering irises reminiscent of the hells themselves burning within them.

Tav was torn between a curiosity to see what might happen if she stopped, and the greater desire at what may follow if she continued. An easy decision, and soon she was completely exposed, though grateful for the heat in the room.

"You needn't be afraid, little thief, I have no desire to harm you. At least, not in a way you won't enjoy…" The last syllable was drawn out like a brief growl, the fire in their eyes sparking once more as they noted her response. "Pleasure and pain are two sides of the same coin, after all, and it is such fun to balance on the edge."

Whilst they talked, Tav laid on the bed as instructed, feeling their gaze look beneath her flesh and to the potential it held. They looked like a hungry beast before a banquet. Haarlep moved to the end of the bed, taking another prolonged moment to examine every inch of exposed flesh, before they began to crawl across the bed above her. Their words earlier rang clearly in Tav’s ears, they stalked like a tiger, eyeing her like prey. Just the look they were giving her was raising the heat within her now. “You are so intriguing, Rat, so you’ll have no tricks here. It would be far too easy to charm you, seduce you with a trick to want me, but you’re already right here with barely a hint of coercion.” The sharp talon of a nail softly caressed Tav’s lower lip, the unspoken encouragement for her to part her lips. “And I’ve heard all about this tongue of yours - sharp words can rile him up, you know.” Now they pressed a thumb into her mouth, the tip of their claw just shy of piercing through but the pressure enough to sting with the sharp edge. “You’re welcome to try that with me, of course, but you may find yourself less able to speak before we’re done.” Tav moaned softly, the devil above her was a deeply erotic sight. They straddled her hips easily but kept the contact minimal, and she felt a strong desire to wrap her lips around the thumb that tasted of smoke and heat and cinnamon, but the moment she tried they pulled back again, leaving only a wanton moan in their wake. “Build up your appetite, Rat, you’ll dine well soon enough. But first I simply must know what is so fascinating about one little elf…” They almost seemed absorbed in their own thoughts as they bent to meet her lips, tasting the most chaste kiss and yet leaving a feeling of intense debauchery from just that simple contact. “Hmmm…” They ignored any reaction from Tav, shifting back a little now instead. Clawed hands gripped Tav’s breasts, pressure enough to hurt but simultaneously finding nerves that made her heart race faster. She was becoming impatient. “I thought an incubus would be quick to get to the point.” “Hah! Aren’t you adorable, I didn’t think you’d have the words now. You are aware that we carry a powerful aphrodisiac in our saliva? Perhaps such a small kiss is not enough to poison a ferocious little rat?” They eyed her closely, daring her to reply.

Tav was briefly reminded of a very uncomfortable moment in the temple of Shar involving a half eaten giant spider. She could feel the heat lingering on her lips, and almost heard Gale’s voice shouting at her in her memories- “Stop licking the damn thing!”

She almost laughed, but Haarlep was bending towards her again. “Well, Rat? Do you want more of a taste?” Their claws gripped and pulled on sensitive skin, her chest flaring with a bright heat and pain. Tav remembered now the night she had danced with the Raphael’s true form, a dream more real than she realised. She reached up and grabbed Haarlep’s horns, pulling them in to a deep and passionate kiss. Their tongue danced between her lips, drawing out her breath, tasting every moan that started low and sang up through her throat. It was as if they were drinking in every single spark of her arousal through her lips, a taste of fire, cloves, cinnamon and smoke. Even their hands on her skin felt like the heated more, and she held on to the viciously curved horns until her wrists were snatched away and pressed down above her head. “Well well, you are entertaining…” Haarlep purred, licking their lips, “So, so delicious .” This time, Tav was lost for words, a fact that seemed to make the incubus smile with satisfaction.

“Good…good, little thief, though you might have bitten off more than you can chew this time. I was only going to give you a little, but you went ahead and took all you wanted.” They let out a low chuckle. “I hope you’re ready, you should be feeling it…right about now.” Tav’s head rolled back onto the silk pillows, pressing down as she bit her lip. She was feeling it alright. The it in question was a powerful surge of libido, which started in her mouth where their tongue had drawn their devilish designs on her own like a curse. It spread like butterfly wings opening through the centre of her chest, chasing on down to her middle with the fluttering of a hundred desires. By the time the heat pooled between her legs it was damn near unbearable, pulling her hips up desperately towards the incubus who still knelt over her, their hand still effortlessly pinning her arms above her head. It continued further still into her legs, which Haarlep easily pinned by hooking their feet over her shins. By the time the sensation of pure lust had reached every inch of her being, Tav barely remembered how to breathe, where she was, or anything beyond the deep aching need to be touched.

The entire time, Haarlep simply watched, holding her still, refusing any contact besides the easy restraint. Their tongue licked the taste of her from their lips, revealing the hint of sharp teeth for one tantalising moment. “I don’t think I need to ask what you want, now, do I?” Their voice was just beside her ear as they bent close again, still just keeping their bodies from touching. Their wings spread out behind them. “But I would just love to hear those pretty lips beg.” Tav groaned. This was torture, but she was beginning to feel that reckless confidence rising up in her again. The game was on. “Fuck. You.” She managed to hiss out between desperately quickened breaths. This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, why am I antagonising the-“Not. Yet.” They replied, tail coming down viciously on her upper thigh like a whip. The pain stung, her eyes almost watered as she felt the hint of a bruise beginning to swell where the blow had landed, but the contact had also given her a taste of what she desired. Haarlep laughed, they knew this game well, and they were ever so intrigued by a mere mortal who would be so willing to play it. “Perhaps I should be surprised how you’re still alive,” they punctuated the pause in their sentence with another lash of their tail, “and you don’t even know yourself, do you?”

Despite their question, Tav wasn’t given space to answer as the game intensified. Tail lashing with brutal precision, dancing on the knife edge of agony and ecstacy ever time it struck home, the incubus ever watching her reactions. If she had the presence of mind to look more closely, she would’ve noticed their red skin now bore a few flecks of her own blood, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond the maddening embrace of pure hedonism. “I am beginning to like you, Rat. You’re bearing this all so very well, you might just be my new favourite pet~” They bent to her neck now, pressing their heated lips against skin that begged for their kisses. There was no affection beyond the lie of a false love, and despite the look in their blazing eyes they did not devour her in one bite, nor did they treat her with patience or reverence. No, the incubus wanted to pull every nerve in her body like a puppet’s strings, and gods it was good .

Astarion was a practiced lover, focused on her, and leading her towards more experimental experiences by building the trust between them. The Emperor had looked directly into her mind and harnessed her hidden desires to bring them closer, an act she could only describe as respectful violation. The brief moment she had shared with Raphael showed her a kind of greed and selfish wanting that made her head spin every time she thought about it. But Haarlep? They were unique.

Haarlep’s touch was like fire dancing through her body, they lived and breathed pleasure, their entire being was designed to feed upon the shudders running through her body as they dug their clawed nails into her hip and traced a lustful path along her collarbone with lips, tongue, teeth . Tav struggled a little against the hand pinning her wrists, but it wasn’t freedom she wanted. Freedom was a word away, a word that almost sought her tongue to form the sound but was chased back every time by a fresh wave of utter delight leaving her drunk on lust.

“Ah you are refreshing, ” they breathed against her ribs, chuckling softly as another whip of their tail drew a fresh moan from Tav’s lungs, “and such pretty songs you sing, little thief, and you will sing mine soon~”

Their teeth grazed along over-sensitive skin, tongue flickering to press against tender flesh as they moved down to her breasts, releasing her hands now from above her head. She ached for the restraint, but found no breath to complain. Instead her hands balled into fists, gripping desperately at the decadent fabrics as the incubus reached the peak of her breasts with their wicked mouth now, their free hand beginning to tease her tense thighs.

For a few minutes, there was quiet. Haarlep finally stopped talking, their mouth busy drawing yet more infernal symbols with a quick tongue upon every inch of Tav’s exposed chest. She missed the voice, though, yearning for the deep tones to seduce her soul from her body- Shit, and I in danger? The thought tried to find purchase in her mind, but it swiftly left the way it came as she felt a finger finally find the source of the searing heat below.

“My, my, little Rat, aren’t you just full of desire~”, their voice began to fill the still air once more, musical and intrigued, “do you wish for more? I’ll need you to speak up now~”

The teasing touch, circling but never entering, sparked a new fire in Tav. The insulting nickname enticing the stubbornness to rear its head. “Make me.”

The incubus growled, wings fluttering for just a moment with something like a warped mirror of irritation. This wasn’t enough to get under their skin, was it? But oh, the challenge had been set, and they were not going to let this one get away with it. Their tail cracked through the air in a vicious arc, landing a stinging blow across her breast, and at that same moment they thrust their finger inside.

Tav howled. An unhinged noise, the satisfaction of finally having something in that aching emptiness that needed to feel this, and the delicious searing pain of the cambion tail drawing blood from pale skin. But that was all - she was left breathless, wanting, as Haarlep pulled back from her, leaving only that one motionless finger waiting. If they so much as twitched their taloned fingertip within her, she might have burst there and then, but they didn’t.

“So, are you going to ask nicely, Little Rat? You might be able to sneak into this house but do not think you can so easily steal from me. ” Their eyes burned brighter, and if Tav had any sense of what was going on around her she would’ve noticed the flames raising from the bed. Not a true fire, this was an illusion, one that was beyond Haarlep’s control. The light highlighted every inch of their chiseled body, their wickedly curved horns almost glowing as they continued to glare at her.

All it took was a slight twitch of their finger, and a fresh wave of arousal stirred within her entire being coalescing into a single, desperate word: “Please…”“Good~” they purred, wings spreading a little wider, free hand raising into the air to summon-

Oh shit, Tav whispered in her mind, somewhere between a pleased expletive and a note of concern, those are vines-The living vines rose up from beneath the bed, entangling her wrists securely, others below her coiling around her ankles and knees, positioning her legs bent, held open, displayed for the fiend’s amusement. “Very good~” they continued, before lowering towards her abdomen. A teasing bite drew blood from the curve of her hip at the same moment a second finger found its home in warm flesh, both moving now and finally drawing the first climax out of her soul with a long low sound that was almost unrecognisable. Haarlep ate it like an appetiser, far from sated. And given their kiss earlier, Tav was also completely given over to her need now.

The room fell quiet once more, aside from the sound of a thrumming heartbeat and the lewd echoes of Haarlep’s talents, as they moved lower to give another kiss. Far from the chaste kiss of a first love, the incubus put their tongue to work in tasting everything even as their fingers built up an intensity of motion.

Every nerve was alight, the sting of wounds from their lashing tail still burned brightly, pleasure and pain dancing a tango in every inch of Tav’s body. Her mind was almost empty, entirely focused on the swarm of sensation that was devouring her consciousness almost as voraciously as Haarlep was devouring her-

---

Haarlep almost regretted enthralling Tav, the spell was hardly necessary, and they had only used it moments ago. Her mind was not allowed to drift now, they demanded that of her, demanded that she think and feel only them , but their peace was about to be disturbed.

They felt the air shift, the currents changing, charged with the familiar electric crackle of magic as the shimmering doorway appeared behind them.

“Well, well, well,” the master of the house spoke with an air of calm irritation, “I don’t believe we had any scheduled guests today. And what, or rather who , the FUCK do you think you are doing, Harlot ?” The insulting nickname made them bristle, even as they continued to pull a shuddering orgasm from Tav’s burning body with a feral scream. Still, this could work in their favour… They folded their wings and sat up slowly, leaving their hand still inside her to keep working her nerves as her mind focused only on them, entirely unaware of the new arrival.

Raphael’s expression was complex, unreadable, as he took in the scene before him. His personal incubus grinning back at him with his own smug face, lips still wet with her desire. Her. What the fuck was she doing here? In his bed? Exposed, wanting, and having the audacity to not even look his way for a second.

“Little Mouse?-” ----------- ----------- ENDING NOTES ----------- -----------

It felt bad to split the chapter, but it was also very necessary~ finally we bring Tav to play with Haarlep, and naturally Raphael knows something is going on... I fear writing this and its sequel fundamentally rewired my brain, and gods am I glad that it did~ Until tomorrow, loves, when you will have more... Oh, did I almost forget? This one gets a LiArt~

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 raphael #haarlep #bg3 tav #a tav's guide #fanfic #incubus #2 part chapter #LiArt #the worst doodles of smut #take away my crayons #I fear for your taste if you like those drawings but if you demand I supply #anyway here's wonderwall

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athyathye · 2 years

Note

for requests... this girl that gets up close with the bf only to drag him away to threaten him and tell him how much more the reader deserves and that he should break up with reader so reader can be with her.... and then she comes back and starts flirting with the reader while the readers here like 'lol get wrecked' to her bf but also 'no thanks i like my bf thanks for the compliments tho' with ran rindou sanzu and wakasa :0 tyyyy <3 take care of urself :0

Sneaky Link

Author's note 📝: Reminder that maximum number of characters in a request is 3, thank you for requesting~!

Warnings ⚠️: yeaaaah~ regular curse words!

(Rindou, Ran and Sanzu)

Rindou :

❥ Flabbergasted would be an understatement, mans was bamboozled!

❥ It was an outcome he never would have thought of, let alone experienced.

❥ He was sure things like that could only happen to his older brother who was the equivalent of a salivating dog.

❥ Rindou knew you could pull even the harshest men on the planet. Him being a perfect example. But he wouldn’t have thought that a person would be able to stand straight against him for you, let alone a girl.

❥ Call him sexist, but he had never seen a woman so fierce and…idiotically brave to look at him straight in the face and claim she likes you, HIS girlfriend.

“...What?” Rindou had to make sure he heard correctly, if his ears weren’t betraying him like his face was.

“You heard me. You’re not worth y/n. She deserves better!” The woman was in hysterics, perhaps it was true that love could make one crazy. “She deserves me!” She pulled at the younger Haitani’s collar which greatly shocked him.

“Hey, I don’t know what kind of intimidation tactic this is, but it sure as hell ain’t working…you better back off before I do something I’d regret-”

“The only thing you’ll ever regret is not giving her to me! Why should she-”

“Is there a problem here?” A familiar voice dripping with sweet saccharin cut the conversation. Both people’s attention were redirected towards you who was leaning on the doorframe with a troubled look.

“Not at all, Cutie! Rindou over here was just ranting on how much he thought he didn’t deserve you, and I was reassuring him he definitely was! …N’t” She gazed away from your suspicious glance.

“Hold on, I was what now?” Rindou truly believed he went through whiplash because how in the hell-

“Ha? Rindou? Again baby? I thought I made you stop thinking so negatively about yourself” You pouted as if disappointed.

“I said wait! Wha-”

“You know what? We’re going to have a long talk.” You pulled on his dress shirt, dragging him with you as you searched for the exit, Rindou turned around.

The woman behind him was smiling so…viciously. Her mouth opened, the shape of her mouth was all he could focus on. Deciphering what her lips read he gulped. ‘Women are definitely scary...'

Ran :

❥ Utterly confused and humiliated.

❥ Arrows shot bullseye to the heart, face burning hot both in anger and embarrassment, eyes seeing red but doesn’t dare to make a move.

❥ It was a first for Ran Haitani to get humbled so bad that he had to sit in a chair to calm himself down.

❥ With his reputation, no one would ever doubt that he would be a ‘chick magnet’. He was proud of that title but was willing to lose it once you came around.

❥ He thought of the girl that tried to lure him to be one of those that were shameless, as shameless as he used to. But perhaps, he should’ve never doubted the power of your charm.

“You here alone?” A seductive voice belonging to a seductive beauty. Ran was an expert in the appearances of the opposite gender. He knew a jewel once he saw one, part of the reason why he never wanted to let you go. To him beauty equaled status, both in men and women but in different categories.

Women flocked him left and right even if he wasn’t a bachelor anymore, he was never going to admit it to you but those experiences boosted his ego to the point where he believed himself to be one of the most desirable men in their area.

“Why? You gonna buy me a drink?” He flirted back. If people were willing to entertain and suck themselves dry in order to please him, then by all means he would let them.

“Ha ha, no. On the contrary, I’m here to issue a warning.” The woman looked too proud and confident to be making a joke. Ran raised an eyebrow, letting the sly expression on his face fade in not longer than a second.

“Who sent you?” Was all he said, taking the statement as a declaration of war against his gang. On high-alert and ready to call back up as soon as the conversation was over.

“The pride of a woman in love.” ‘The hell? Is this b*tch playing with me? Or is she insane?’ Ran couldn’t figure out her motives.

“Break up with y/n.”

“Yup, definitely insane.” Ran turned to leave, discomfort painting his face.

“The insane one here is you thinking you had a chance with her! Wake up, Haitani! You don’t deserve her! Not you nor your little junior!”

If anger and embarrassment mixed together could be in a physical form, it would be Ran's face right now. The fact that she had shouted that in the middle of the party meant everybody heard it. And he wasn’t one to be embarrassed by stuff like that, but the woman had already got under his skin by saying your name.

“Haha, Hate to break it to you. But I actually like him. Little junior and all. Thank you for the compliment though!” Why would you say that!? And why the hell did you look so ecstatic!? Nothing made sense in Ran’s mind.

All he knew was that he suffered and had been defeated that night. And he didn’t think he could show his face for the next few days.

Sanzu:

❥ She was a friend. And that was the only reason she could get away with everything that had happened.

❥ All Sanzu could do was grit his teeth because he wasn’t high enough to excuse what could have been his next actions on the booze.

❥ It wasn’t that Sanzu was possessive. But he truly believed that maybe locking you up in a closet would make way less trouble for him. People wouldn’t be falling for you left and right, and only he could witness the sight of your beauty.

❥ He was already a madman to begin with, doing that would have not added to the already messed up life he lead. The only thing stopping him was the fact that even if he wanted to mess everything in his life, he could never mess you.

❥ So when the threats of another person taking you filled his mind, he never bothered with it because she was your friend. But there was a limit to where his patience stood, and it was never long to begin with.

If only the crude words of “F*ck off!” could leave Sanzu’s lips right now. He had to hold himself back from causing a rampage in his very own home as he watched another girl present herself like a feast to his oblivious girlfriend.

Sanzu thought of your cluelessness as an adorable feature of yours, but as of this moment all he could do was loathe it. Watching as the woman who had incurable feelings for you feed you strawberries dipped in white chocolate.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you excused yourself which left both Sanzu and your friend to do whatever they want in your absence.

“You look so hideous that I want to retch everytime I see you.”

“You’re not so pretty yourself.” Sanzu replied on his spot on the couch. “Two-faced b*tch” He mumbled as he ignored the imaginary snake fangs wanting desperately to bite him.

“I don’t even know what y/n sees in a good-for-nothing man like you-”

“Yeah? Well you stink! Everything about you stinks that even now I can’t breathe with you around!” Sanzu’s patience thinned, he was genuinely considering how to hide her body.

“Ehem, are you both done?” you entered the room once more. Trying to hide the smile that was threatening to plaster on your face.

“Sorry, f/n. I think you should go home for today. I had fun though!”

“Awwe, anything for you y/n!” You escorted her out. Once back in the living room with both of you alone. It was Sanzu who broke the silence.

“Are you having fun?”

“To be honest, yeah.” The laugh you had let out was what relieved Sanzu’s burning urge to kill. “It was always me who got jealous so at least now you feel me.”

“Alright alright. I won’t do anything anymore- So just until when are you gonna keep her around?”

“Probably for a while. I’m quite fond of her.” Both of you were mad.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers fanfic #tokyo revengers fanfiction #rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader #ran x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader

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the-wolf-who-kissed-the-moon · 3 years

Text

• Lady Dimitrescu x female reader 💋

• WARNINGS: Explicit horror elements, gore, mentions of blood, minor character death, sapphic love.

glass angel, part XVI.

There’s no true limits to existence, only one-way thresholds which, once passed, never open again.

Small, frosty kisses tickled your limbs, melting into the unnatural heath of your skin. Your body felt weightless, a ghastly shape in the dunes of pristine snowflakes piling atop of graves and tombstones. As if woken from a profound sleep, you fluttered your eyes and suddenly pushed yourself to sit up in the bed of snow.

It must’ve been dusk; heavy, gray clouds hung low over familiar hills and pine tops, blurring the line between the sky and the ground. Lightheaded, you shifted about until your knees dug deep into the frozen soil. Beneath yourself was a pile of dry, colorless flowers and a rusty lamp with a single, half-burnt candle. The cross impaled into the grave appeared familiar, albeit old and damaged by harsh Romanian winds. A name, a person – your heart ached, yet you could not recall who it was, only that you used to visit her plenty times before. The memory was too fuzzy, like a tangled ball of yarn which only tightened the more you tried to loosen it.

You carefully stood, turning away from the grave. The hem of your long, white dress carved circles in the snow as you spun, confused, struggling to decipher where exactly you were. Rural houses sat perked on white hills, peeking at you through hollow windows. They, too, appeared familiar, yet not enough to stir a clear remembrance within you. Everything seemed to be part of a dream, of a former life, something you vaguely might recall at dawn. The snow, however, was palpable and real, dazzling beneath the half-moon rising. You knew it should’ve felt cold, yet your skin was unperturbed by its icy touch, and so you gazed at it in awe until ghastly howls ripped through the placid stillness of the night.

Suddenly, the ground shook with the weight of beastly feet stomping through the fields. You caught a glimpse of deformed, Frankenstein-like creatures scraping the roofs of whatever dilapidated houses still stood upright. Ahead of them were armed men, some falling prey to the slobbering mouths of their pursuers, others shattering the eerie silence with loud bullets. And though the scene unveiled right before you, it appeared oneiric itself, as if you were naught but a spectator to a midnight horror show. That is, until you locked eyes with one particular young man.

He froze momentarily and called out to you, an unfamiliar name leaving his bruised lips. Although you couldn’t remember clearly, you felt as if it was your name; or, the name of a dream version of you which no longer existed in this plane. A rain of bullets illuminated the sky, painting abandoned homes in dark entrails and crimson blood. The putrid scent of death lingered in the air as the war temporarily died down, leaving only one man standing. Your eyes met again, his own full of relief and exhilaration, yours vacant as if you were a porcelain doll.

“O-oh God… I knew it!! I knew I’d find you! God, do you have any idea h-how much…” He stuttered from the cold and raw excitement as he embraced you tightly to his chest. “…how much I… I-… God I was so scared… so scared…”

Emotion threatened to spill from his beautiful eyes as he gazed at you with such love that your own heart nearly burst with joy. Once upon a former life, you surely must’ve known him too. The poor, sweet young man shuddered with cold from head to toe, yet he shrugged his coat off and wrapped you in its warmth. The scent was familiar, too.

“A-are you alright? Did you… get hurt? B-bitten?” His teeth chattered, but you couldn’t find your voice to answer. A terrifying symphony of howls and screeches echoed throughout the land, announcing the arrival of yet another hellish army. Both of you stood very still, his attention all over your surroundings whilst yours was affixed on a worn-out piece of wood. On it was written – Castle Dimitrescu.

Dimitrescu…

Alcina Dimitrescu.

The image of The Countess came back to you as clear as a dew drop on clover leaves. Sweet rose perfume filled your lungs, setting your skin ablaze, rousing a dance of butterflies in your chest. Her voice, a low rumble, reverberated in your heart, reviving the blood within your veins.

“H-hey! Let’s go! Let’s get outta here, those things ar-“

“Shhh…”

You tempered the fright in the youth’s lovely eyes. Forthwith, he appeared so frail and meek as you held his feverish cheeks in between your palms. Perhaps you did remember him. A man you once loved, who couldn’t sleep a wink since you disappeared, unaware that the woman he’d been looking for had died long ago. You were naught but a shell, emptied of humanity and filled with sin and forbidden hungers.

“I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

You murmured gently whilst you caressed the swollen skin beneath his eyes. The haunting sound of ravenous mouths grew louder and nearer, and as you glanced at your feet you realized Lycans had already eaten his body. Only his head, frozen in terror, remained cradled in your dainty palms. Your white dress became heavy with blood, the snow around you melting in a crimson puddle. You watched in a haze as the hybrid monsters scattered, each carrying a body part in their gruesome mouths.

“Sleep well…”

You whispered as you pressed a kiss to the young man’s gaping mouth and delicately wrapped his head in his coat. With a last touch you closed his eyes and left him by the grave of your late grandmother to rest in merciful, eternal life. The candle was now burning dimly, a flame produced by the warmth of your undead touch, never to die unless you died a second time.

“Hai acasă, draga mea… Hai, iubire…”

Come home, my dear… come, love…

You followed that gracious voice through broken trunks and endless mountains of ice. Roots seemed to shrink and hide into the frozen ground, letting you pass as you navigated the Carpathian labyrinth. At the end of it, Castle Dimitrescu stood menacing and imperial, looming over the pitiful village you’ve left behind. And at its gate, the seductive matron awaited with an elegant cigarette pressed to her dark rose lips.

Alcina…

Her eyes were like two beads of gold, shimmering brilliantly in the thick fog.

“What am I?...”

Softly you inquired as you followed the gleam of her predatory gaze. Frost evaporated beneath your feet, sizzling, leaving the ground dry and cracking with heat. A fire burned within you; one born of passion and unnatural elements alike. Like a Phoenix you rose again, beckoned by The Lady’s charms, leaving your human ashes behind to be reborn as something you’ve yet to comprehend.

“You are…” Alcina begun, her mouth like dark rose petals behind the cloud of her satin smoke. “…a thousand times more beautiful, a thousand times more powerful, and…”

“… and?” You echoed demurely, with arms outstretched to welcome her familiar embrace.

The Madam leaned down, enveloping you in her rich perfume and the powerful hold of her arm. Your bare feet no longer touched the snow as she stood to her impressive height, cradling you high above the ground. Up close, her beauty was disarming.

“…and you are my bride.”

She sealed the promise with a deep kiss, at last. You easily surrendered, like many times before, forgetful of the life you’ve left behind; like a glass angel in the deadly claws of the devil.

That’s where you were always fated to be.

- End.

#lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #countess alcina #alcina x reader #horror fanfic #vampire fanfiction #sapphic fanfic #sapphic love

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anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Home: Chapter Seven

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing,

word count: 3.9k

a/n: I’m entirely writing this to distract myself from the real world but honesty I’m having a great time, I think there will be one more chapter after this one and maybe an epilogue but asides from that, also feel free to message or ask if you want to be tagged :)) anyway enjoy and pls comment and shiz :)

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Azriel had once joked that you were like an actual flower, needing water and sunlight to use your powers. At the time you had laughed but now as you stood in front of the mirror, wiping the tears from under your eyes, and preparing to walk into the world of all things dead, you understood. The dress you wore was one of the few fancy ones you reserved for the dinners you were often dragged to before your fall. It was lavender, with tulle cascading down your legs from the waist, paired with a tight corset top and tulle off-the-shoulder sleeves. As you sat with a ‘humph’ and started applying your makeup, your stepbrother walked in.

“Well you look cheery,” Nico said, sitting on your bed.

“I look like an evil power puff girl,”

“You look like you are a princess, which you are so my dad is going to be pleased.”

“I really don’t care what he thinks,” you snapped, and Nico help up his hands. He was wearing all black as usual, simple dress pants and a loose black shirt tucked in, his belt matched his rings, and his dark hair and even darker eye bags made him look every bit the Underworld prince. “Sorry, I’m not mad at you,” you said turning back around to carry on with your makeup.

“I know, it’s stressful for you,” he moved to sit next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and you applied eyeliner.

“I don’t wanna get sick again, I have things to do. Plus I’ve got to convince your dad to let me ask for this favour. I just feel like it’s all going to go to shit.”

“I get it, you’ll be fine though. Also I’m pretty sure your mum is going to do anything for you if it means you’ll speak to her again, so she’ll be on your side at least. That’s three vs one.” He nudged you as you put down the eyeliner.

“That’s true.” You bit the inside of your lip and Nico, sensing your worry, changed topic.

“Tell me about Azriel,” He said, and you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Huh?”

“Well I gotta make sure that when you become his problem it will be permanent, I don’t want you coming back,” he joked.

“Fuck you,” you laughed shoving his shoulder and he giggled, rolling onto his back.

“I don’t want to do thisssss,” Nico said in a sing-song voice lying flat on the floor.

“Me neither but I’m not going in alone bitch,” you laughed, starting to feel slightly better. It was moments like this that made you regret pushing your friends away, the thought of seeing them was always scary but when you were with your brother again you remembered why you loved them so much. You assessed your outfit in the mirror and sighed.

“What?” Nico asked, sitting back up.

“This would look really nice with a dark red lip,” you said, biting your lip.

“Do you have one?” he asked, and you nodded. He was quiet for a second before reaching out and ruffling through your makeup, finding your favourite red lipstick. “Do you wanna try?”

“Yeah, but if I cry it’ll mess up my eyeliner.” You said with a shaky laugh. He laughed quietly handing you the lipstick and you looked at him in the mirror, taking in a shuddering breath. You were stronger than this and you could handle it. You closed your eyes for a minute, counting your breaths, before opening the lipstick.

Once it was applied you lifted your chin, staring down the girl in the mirror. Nico grabbed your hand softly and you tore your eyes away, standing and pulling on your shoes.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Azriel was in a shit mood. He was 90% sure that you had cast some sort of spell on him when he was with you, something that made him happy and relaxed, because now that you weren’t here he pretty much wanted to throttle everyone.

Amren had been helping him look for a way to get back to you. The first thing they had tried was winnowing, he pictured your face; your smile, the way your hands felt in his, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t reach you. So they had been scanning books since then, reading up on every theory and myth. Nesta had brought him to speak to Gwyn who had told him about the theory that there could be up to at least 20 other worlds. Amren had also made him talk through every detail about this world he could remember, writing diligent notes as Cassian gave him weird looks when he spoke about Bucky Barnes.

“He’s a character, it’s a simple concept.”

“Yeah but how do you get an emotional connection to a character?”

“Shut up both of you.”

The pain in his chest was only growing as well, and he came to the daunting realisation that if he failed this; if he couldn’t get back to you, or get you back to him, he would probably have to deal with it for the rest of his long, long life.

He felt bad for taking his frustrations out on his family who were just worried about him, but he had never felt this way before. All he could think of was the way your eyes cleared when the realisation dawned on you. The way you had gone from sobs to a different, all-consuming kind of pain, just for a second, your eyes clearing as you realised you might never see him again. He hated himself for not being strong enough to put up a fight, he knew he wasn’t a match for a god, but he should’ve tried, he was too shocked at the time, too heartbroken, but now he was terrified that you might think he gave up on you. He had to get back to you, he was afraid what you might do if you were alone again. If you were alone after having the bond dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away moments later.

It was almost 3am and everyone else in the house had gone to bed, but Azriel didn’t sleep well normally, and he especially wouldn’t while he was apart from you. He looked up from his book when he heard someone clear their throat, his head whipped up an incredulous smile gracing his features when he saw you sitting there.

“Baby,” he started moving forward but you held your hand up, stopping him.

“Oh that’s just too sweet, you kids are giving me so much content,” you dabbed at your eyes, and Azriel frowned.

“(y/n)? what’s going on?”

“Oh I’m not (y/n) sweetie, but that’s just adorable. My name is Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, I often appear as whoever you find most beautiful.” Azriel’s heart dropped, the brief happiness he felt seeing your face gone as the lady spoke.

“Aphrodite? Hermes mentioned you.” He said, tensing as he realised he was dealing with another god. “In fact he said it was your fault this all happened.”

“Oh Hermes, always blaming someone else. You should be thanking me.”

“And why would I do that.” Azriel knew the look on his face was deadly, but something about seeing a god cower under his gaze was feeding his ego.

“Haven’t you worked out why you can’t travel back to her.” She raised her eyebrows at him, her expressions may be on your face, but as he paid more attention she seemed like a completely different person. “I have the power to move through world’s, you do not. I just thought that poor, sweet girl had been through enough that she should get to meet her soulmate. I waited for you after your mission and then just made you forget and let the two of you fall in love naturally, I mean I get teary eyed thinking about it, you’re just too cute!”

Azriel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, “So why are you here? Are you going to bring her to me?”

“Hmm I could, but I’d get in so much trouble, plus she’s very smart and I want to see if her plan works. You people are so very entertaining.” Her face rippled for a second as she turned, and she briefly looked like Mor, then Elain, then back to you. “But you, poor boy,” He chose to ignore the condescending tone, “You were dealt a very bad hand love wise, so maybe if she doesn’t succeed I could pull a few strings, but I do have a holiday planned so it may be a few decades.”

Her laugh made him feel sick and he glared at her, “What did you say about her plan?”

“Oh yes! She’s going down to the underworld to try find a solution,” Aphrodite was moving around the room gracefully as Azriel sat back down, the weight of Aphrodite’s easy words hitting him. She picked up one of the books laying on the desk and made an unimpressed noise, throwing it back down carelessly.

“That’s where the dead go right?” he asked, silently praying he was wrong,

“Yup! Don’t worry though, her mother lives there too,” she said ‘mother’ with a slight snarl, but Azriel ignored her. “You know I get why she likes you, you’re very pretty aren’t you?” She walked over to him, swaying your hips and he had to remind himself it wasn’t you as she sat down in his lap, forcing his hands to stay clenched at his side. She ran your hand along his jaw, tilting her head with a smile as she stroked his face. Her thumb rested on his bottom lip as he glared at her with murderous rage, trying to reel it in as he remembered she was possibly the only one that could help him.

“Well I guess I better go,” She sighed dramatically then pressed a perfectly polished gold coin into his hand, “Flip this if you need me, emergencies and sex only.” She winked at him, before kissing his cheek and standing, waving seductively before vanishing. Azriel sat for a few minutes, reeling from the interaction he just had. Is this the world I’ve entered now? Gods who can do whatever they want? He wondered if that’s why you avoided talking about the Gods, if maybe growing up with this had made you bitter to them. He wanted to ask you and talk to you about it, or anything for that matter but instead he just pocketed the coin and stood, winnowing to his room, and collapsing on his bed.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful,” Your mother cried out as you and Nico arrived, you were leaning heavily on his arm, while surrounded by death, the coldness of a lifeless place seeped into your bones and weakened you, you had learnt as much the first time you visited. You gave your mother a tight-lipped smile and hugged her awkwardly.

“Oh I missed you so much dear,” she stroked your hair, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“You could’ve visited.” It was hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice, after all you had gone through and she hadn’t visited once. A look of shock passed over her face but before she could reply Hades thundered in, his usual outfit, ‘the robes of death and despair’ as you fondly called them, were replaced by a dark suit, his hair slicked back from his face. He came to Persephone’s side and rested a hand around her waist pulling her in slightly, and despite yourself you felt a little jealous of their closeness as your mother looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Nico, my son, how are you?” Hades deep voice silenced the room, the very air seeming to stand still, and Nico flushed red as he was put on the spot. The four of you exchanged pleasantries as you made your way to the ridiculously long table, Hades sat at the head on one side, Persephone on the other, with Nico and you facing each other in the centre. The wood was dark, but the table was covered in all sorts of colourful food and you all helped yourselves while making small talk, only managing to hear your parents due to the eery silence of the room, dead guards not needing to make any noise.

After the first few courses and once you had consumed enough white wine to gain some courage you turned to face your mother.

“Mum, I think I need a favour if that’s okay?” you asked with great caution, extremely aware of the powerful forces surrounding you.

“Well that depends dear. What is it?”

“After the battle and the… fall, I never got my reward remember, I instead asked to be able to come get it when I needed it.”

“Yes of course, I thought that was very smart!” your mother spoke cheerfully but you could feel Hades’ gaze on your back, burning through your skin and bones to the very essence of your soul. “Let me guess, you need it now?”

“If that’s okay, some things have changed recently and I now know what I need,” you smiled at her, “I met a man, well actually he’s a faerie. Aphrodite wanted us to meet because we’re soulmates and after my fall she thought I deserved to see him, but since he’s from another world he had to go back, and we can’t be together.” You wiped away a few stray tears you forced out; this was your game. Your mother didn’t visit you often so she had never seen this side of you, the side that could manipulate even a god into giving you what you wanted. “So I thought, maybe for my reward I could become Fae and be permitted to live with Azriel in his world, and maybe come and visit my friends occasionally?”

“Oh that sounds lovely dear! That’s so alike me, I had to beg my mother and even then she didn’t let me stay here,” your mother rattled on and you smiled at her, but your shoulders were still tense as you knew you hadn’t won yet. You turned to where Hades sat, rubbing his temples.

“I get it. I do. But I really don’t think my brother would allow that, it’s too much.”

“Too much?” you asked, a bitter laugh escaping.

“I understand you went through a lot,”

“Do you?” you couldn’t stop the biting words, “Because the last I checked you both sat and did nothing while I was tortured down there. You could’ve done something, but you didn’t, you made a choice not to, and now I ask for ONE thing, and it’s too much?” Hades’ glare was murderous, but you weren’t going to back down.

“I mean if you really think about it, I’ll be out of your hair if you agree. One less demi-god always seems to be a win for you guys.” Nico said your name in warning, but you slowly stood. “I am not asking for much, I am asking to be allowed to live a life with the man I love and after all I have been through, fighting YOUR battles, I think it’s the least I deserve.”

You held Hades’ gaze for a few more seconds until he spoke. “Are you sure your not a child of Nyx?” he asked, and you grinned, cocking your head to the side.

“Why would that be?”

“You have a pure evil streak in you girl and uncharted power. You better learn to control it, before someone catches on.”

“We won’t have a problem I’m presuming?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said gruffly, going back to his meal and you relaxed, moving to hug your mother goodbye, whispering thanks to her, before linking arms with Nico and leaving.

The next day you awoke to a golden invitation to Olympus, and you smiled, soon. You’d be with him soon.

Olympus looked much nicer since Annabeth had gotten involved. You may have been biased but it seemed to hold a sense of home it never had before, the clinical cleanliness now feeling purer and more loving. The throne room however had remained much the same.

You stood alone in the middle surrounded by the arc of thrones, but you refused to take your eyes of Zeus. You had received a wink from Apollo and a smile from Aphrodite as you walked in but beside that it had been eye contact for at least five minutes. You knew better to speak before you were spoken to but the way they surrounded you and stared down on you was bringing up bad memories and you were really fighting a panic attack.

Seemingly sensing this Apollo cleared his throat, “Perhaps we should start father?” While you were grateful a part of you hated how well the flirtatious god knew you, he was the first to tend to your wounds when you first escaped, healing them enough so you wouldn’t die from blood loss but not enough for anyone to suggest he was picking favourites. His warm hands had provided a sense of comfort you thought you had lost entirely.

Zeus nodded slowly, a letter appearing in his hand, “So these are your terms? Transformation into high Fae, permission to live in a new world with visits back to this one twice a year?” you presumed Hades, or your mother had written the letter, neither of them present currently. You nodded clearly, not entirely trusting your voice.

“I guess it’s only fair, but a full transformation will hurt,”

“I’m sure I can take it.” you lifted your chin, holding your shaking hands tightly in an attempt to conceal them.

Zeus laughed, not taking his eyes of you, “I’m sure you can. Does anyone have any major oppositions?”

Aphrodite raised her hand, “I’d like to add that during her transformation, her womb changes shape so she may birth Illyrian children.” You shot her a grateful look, still not entirely sure why she was suddenly so invested in ensuring your happiness, but you wouldn’t complain.

Hera was the next to speak and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “Why is she getting special treatment again? What did she do that was so different?”

“She was tortured for days!” Athena exclaimed,

“So?” Ares now.

“She was a child, it was brutal.” Apollo jumped to your aid and soon the chamber was filled with shouting voices as they argued over your fate.

“SILENCE.” Zeus quieted the room instantly and every eye turned to him, but he remained focused on you, “Well then? Answer the question girl, what makes you so special?”

You thought for a second before answering, “I don’t consider it special treatment. After the battles I’ve fought and the pain I’ve endured to help your causes, I’d consider it a form of retirement.” You kept Zeus’ gaze and let a streak of the evil Hades had warned you off show, smiling when his smug smile disappeared. He waved his hand, “Very well then, High Fae with altered womb and permission to live in their world and visit our occasionally, that is all?”

You nodded and he assessed you before holding out his hand, his gaze darkening. You furrowed your eyebrows as your limbs started to tingle before pain took over your entire body.

You had felt pain so many times before, pain that left more than just physical trauma, but this was different. You felt as if your blood had become fire and every bone was breaking as new ones reformed. You didn’t have any sense of time or place, all you could feel was pain. At one point you thought it was over only to open your eyes, feeling impossibly soft sheets beneath you, and see Apollo hovering over you, sweat dripping from his brow as he took some of the pain away, even for just a moment.

When you finally awoke you were on the ground. You stood up quickly, almost knocking yourself over as your movement were much faster than usual. You were outside a glowing city, it didn’t have skyscrapers like New York, but it was so comforting to look at you felt yourself being drawn in. As you crossed the border however, a beautiful man with dark hair appeared, his eyes narrowing.

“Who are you and why are you trying to get in here?” A shot of fear went through you as you felt his magic, it was thick in the air and powerful.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone, I’m just looking for someone,” you explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat. The handsome man’s gaze turned vacant before softening after a moment.

“I apologise, I’m Rhysand. Let me help you find whoever it is, what’s their name?”

“That’s okay, really. His name is Azriel, but I don’t think he’s expecting me.” Rhysand stopped, his head turning towards you, “what is it?” you asked.

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?” you stepped back but he held out his hands,

“No, no I’m Az’s brother, let me take you to him.” he grabbed your arm softly and suddenly you were standing in a warm room facing Azriel. You felt tears fill your eyes as you stared at him, he uttered your name in question and you nodded running into his arms, completely engulfed by his scent, tears of joy running down your face when you suddenly realised something, pulling away.

“Did you say brother?” you turned to Rhysand, feeling all the plants in the air respond to your calls, when Azriel tugged you back to him.

“Not biological don’t worry.” He whispered and Rhysand laughed.

“I like her.”

“Hmm I was two seconds away from castrating you,” His eyes widened slightly and you laughed, turning back to Azriel as he looked over you.

“How- you, you’re Fae?” His eyes were filled with worry again, afraid he was being tricked.

“I never got my reward remember, I knew I would need it in the future,” you smiled at him as he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you. You pulled apart, Azriel growling when you heard catcalls, turning, and seeing the room had practically filled. A shot of fear went through you as your eyes landed on another man who had red siphons, and Azriel followed your gaze, a hand stroking your face in reassurance.

“So this must be (y/n), welcome to our home, I’m Feyre,” A beautiful woman stepped forward and clasped your hand in hers, which you noted were stained from paint. Everyone else soon made introductions and they urged you to sit as you found out about this makeshift family Azriel was in.

“Oh! That’ll be Nyx, I’ll go,” Feyre said when a baby started crying in the distance,

“Wait what did she say the babies name was?” You asked, holding in a laugh.

“Nyx?” Rhys said,

“Oh, course, cool cool cool,”

“What?” Azriel asked, looking at you strangely.

“I’ve kind of met her,”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she’s like the evilest deity there is, and she did not like me,” Rhysand stared at you with a look of shock on his face, but before anyone said anything else, Amren was laughing loudly.

“You must tell me all about these Gods girl.”

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

tags: @tastedlikedamnation

#acotar #acowar #acofs #acomaf #acofas #Azriel #azriel x reader #percyjackson #Heroes of Olympus

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (2/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, angst, mentions of death

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: Y/N considers Spike’s offer, but for obvious reasons she’s hesitant. However, she can’t deny the pull feels toward him.

Masterlist

“Forever is an awfully long time,” I state quietly, torn between the options of life or living forever.

“Um yeah, that’s sort of the whole point,” the stranger retorts as he pulls out a cigarette for himself.

“aw yes, that’s the way to get a girl’s permission to bite her,” I remark sarcastically. “Sass her to death!”

“I don’t need your permission, Pet,” he so ominously reminds me.

“I suppose not, but you prefer my compliance. Am I wrong?” I challenge.

He glares at me while lighting his cigarette. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” He mumbles bitterly.

“And you’re a hard ass,” I fire back, unfazed. He stares at me with raised brows. “Oh I’m sorry, are you the only one who can name call?”

His eyes roll dramatically with a huff of annoyance. “I couldn’t pick a mute girl to be interested in.”

“I imagine she’d bore you,” I predict, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs, “you’re probably right.” Casually, he hops up onto one of the nearby headstones and sits down.

“Get used to saying that sentence frequently,” I snicker, moving to sit on the headstone across from his.

“So, you want to be vamped out?” He waves me along, growing impatient.

“Oh, so I do have a choice?” I tease, pretending to be surprised.

“Not if you keep talking,” he grumbles, taking a hit of his cigarette.

“I have family and friends I have to consider,” I state matter-of-factly.

It’s true, I have a mother, my siblings, friends from school, all of whom will wonder what happened to me. I can’t just let that go.

“They won’t be a thought once you’re mine,” he claims, smirking at me mischievously.

“Why the sudden interest?” I inquire, genuinely curious. I imagine he could have anyone in the world, why me? Why now?

“I lost someone,” he answers, avoiding my gaze as he focuses on tapping his cigarette against the tombstone. “My girl, Druscilla.”

“So I’m the rebound,” I clarify, nodding in understanding.

His head snaps up, meeting my eyes directly. Apparently, I’ve hit a trigger point. He hops down from his tombstone and rushes over to me. The man pries my legs apart and stands between them. He cups my face in his hands, making me stare into his emerald eyes. “You will be far more,” he assures me with such certainty in his voice I can’t help but believe it. “You will be my reason for existing.”

My chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as I process it all. The longer I stare into his marble-like eyes, the more convinced I become. How could I ever deny him? “Okay,” I finally grant him my answer.

An amazing glimmer appears across his features and he steps closer. “Okay, what?” He repeats as if he isn’t sure he heard me correctly.

I place my hands over his that caress my cheeks. “Make me like you, but under one condition.”

He rolls his eyes, “should’ve known this was coming,” he grumbles. “What is it?”

“Tell me your name,” I request simply.

“Spike,” he answers without hesitation.

“What’s your real name?” I clarify, almost certain that ‘Spike’ couldn’t be it. “And not just your first name either, I want to know the whole thing.”

He frowns, evidently growing frustrated with the subject. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does!” I argue.

“But why? It’s stupid,” he dismisses sharply, removing his hands from me, but remains between my legs.

“Because if we’re going to spend forever together I’d like to know your real fucking name so just say it!” I snap at him, earning a look of surprise.

Visibly, there’s a strong debate occurring in his mind. He sighs, shaking his head as he glances around the cemetery then back at me. “William, alright? My name is William Pratt, happy now?”

“Over the moon,” I joke with a giggle, reaching up and holding his cheek in my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Will.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he pretends to be hard and disinterested in the charm of it all, but I can tell by the way he subtly leaned into my touch that he truly longs for it.

____________________________________________

Becoming a vampire is by the far the most freeing experience of my life or should I say undead life? Either way, Spike has broken me free of all torments and has opened the gates to the world. There is nothing we can’t do together. The entire world belongs to us. All we have to do is reach out and take what we want. Each night, I wake up with a strong urge to destroy and devour. I’ve never felt more powerful and entrancing.

I’ve been a vampire for a few days now, but Spike has kept me confined to the crypt for safety reasons. He claims I’m fragile in the early days until I become used to my new status. To build my strength, he brings me humans to feed on and is teaching me how to defend myself. I’m still learning how to fight in case I ever run into the Slayer or her team of misfits. Her very existence is annoying, such an inconvenience. According to him, I’ve been adjusting rather well, better than usual actually. So, to celebrate my growing strength and swift adaptions, Spike is taking me to The Bronze tonight. It’ll be the first time I’ve been outside the crypt in a week! There’ll be so many people to feed on and every opportunity to terrorize, I’m so excited!

Spike grips my hand protectively as we travel through the crowd of the club. I rarely had enough time to visit this place when I was human. Taking care of my mom and siblings all while balancing school consumed most of my days.

“Oh great,” Spike grumbles, tossing his head back.

I grip his forearm and squeeze his hand worriedly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“The Slayer and her clan of party killers are over there,” he growls, his eyes directed sharply at a nearby table.

I purr, watching the table of oblivious teenagers hungrily. I spot the blonde Slayer as she chats with her friends naively happily. So, that’s the infamous Buffy Summers. Spike has described her to me frequently. Apparently, we go to the same high school, different grades. I never really branched out of my grade or friend group for that matter. Immersed in the idea of snapping the Slayer’s neck for myself, I move to approach her. Imagine what her friends would do if I killed her right here and now.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spike repeats quietly in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist to stop me. “Not here, Love. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“But I thought you loved the dramatics, Darling,” I mutter, keeping my eyes on Buffy with a pout.

“I do, but we mustn’t yet.” He brushes my hair away from my neck slowly, planting a pattern of kisses on my neck. “Let’s go dance.”

I smile, spinning in his arms to face him. Spike takes my hand, leading me to the dance floor. We pass the table of goody-goodies and chatter ensues amongst them. I whip my head around and find the Slayer. Her eyes narrow at me, a confused expression across her features. I turn my attention back to Spike right as he stops in the middle of the dance floor. He brings his hands to my waist, pulling me in closer. I drape my arms over his shoulder loosely and meet his exquisite emerald eyes. God, he’s gorgeous.

Seductively, Spike and I dance as though we’re alone in the building. I see no one else but him. He stares into my eyes so deeply that I can feel it in my soulless body. I would wreck the world for him. I would do anything if it brought him pleasure. Spike is now my purpose in this undead life. My purpose is to make him happy. If we were to ever be parted, I don’t think I’d survive it.

“Get away from her, Spike,” a voice interrupts us.

Our heads whip to our side in unison. The little blonde Slayer stands with her arms crossed. A serious expression plaguing her face. Aw, why the frown Buffy?

Spike snickers, tossing his head back mockingly. “Won’t even wait five minutes, will you?”

“Get out of here,” she commands sharply to him. Then, Buffy turns to me with softness in her eyes. She grips my forearm pleadingly, “he’s not who he says he is.”

Oh, this is funny, she thinks I’m human. She assumes I’m an innocent defenseless victim. Okay, I could work with this. This may be the opportunity Spike and I was looking for, the perfect charade.

My eyes go wide and I step back from Spike anxiously, “what... what do you mean?” I move to stand beside Buffy.

Spike frowns at me as though I’ve lost my marbles.

The Slayer takes my hand, ready to pull me away, “he’s-”

“Must we cause such a scene?” Spike rips me away from Buffy, grabbing my wrist roughly. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go,” he instructs, wrapping an arm around my waist and escorting me to the door. I interlock my hands instead of leaning into him as I usually would keep up the act. Once we’re out of hearing range of the Slayer and her team, he whispers to me harshly. “What the bloody hell was that?”

I suppress a snicker, “you’re far too simple-minded sometimes, Baby. Buffy is going to follow us and I need you to just go with it.”

As he opens the door for me leading out into the alley, he glances at me in amazement. Finally, the pieces are coming together. “You’re trying to pull one on her.”

“Precisely,” I confirm with an evil grin.

Alone in the dimly lit alley, Spike squeezes my waist and tugs me into his chest. He bites down on my lip, peering down at me with a pleased smirk. “You are by far the most miraculous woman I’ve ever met.” Eagerly, he leans down and smashes his lips to mine. My fingers comb through the back of his hair and grip the edges in a fist. He growls against my lips and it only drives me crazier. Will, it ever subside, the wanting him?

The metal door to The Bronze squeezes and I instantly shove Spike off of me with a scream. He stumbles back, still in a daze from our kiss. “Help!” I scream, “someone helps me, please!” I pretend to be distraught and soon Buffy is by my side, ushering me behind her safely.

“I’m not going to let you take her!” She yells at Spike bitterly.

“Well that’s really up to her, isn’t it?” Spike mocks with a cheeky grin on his lips.

“She’s human, Spike! She doesn’t know what you are,” she argues, acting as the big-bad defender of man.

“What is he?” I squeak, sounding all poor pitiful. Honestly, it’s kind of annoying playing the victim. I sound like such a cry baby. Plus, if I were human, I definitely wouldn’t follow a strange man into an empty alley. I’d be asking to get murdered. No, I just talk to them in empty cemeteries in the middle of the night.

Buffy turns to me urgently, doing everything she can to keep me safe, how sweet. She grips both of my forearms, leading me away from spike. “Look, Spike isn’t a good guy, okay? He’ll hurt you or worse! You need to run!” She urges, gesturing down the alley to the road.

“But-” I stutter, glancing at Spike. Then, in one swift motion, I yank my arms free of Buffy’s hold and leg sweep her. She falls to the pavement with a smack. I tower over her with a giggle. “You know, grabbing people without their permission isn’t nice. Where are your manners?”

Spike jogs over and pulls me into his chest. I rest my arms over him around my waist and he places his chin on my shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Beautifully done, My Love.”

Buffy pants, staring up at us in confusion, “what the-”

“Surprise! Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” I laugh wickedly, steadily approaching her like a snake going in for the kill.

______________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @currently-obsesed-with-spike

#spikexreader #spike x buffy #spike x reader #spike fanfic #spike #spuffy #buffy #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #fanfic #imagine

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adorehs · 3 years

Text

12/12/12

Here’s my spooky-ish Harryween fic (a day late, which I apologize for!) This is one million percent not proofread and definitely very rushed and for that I am sorry.

Summary: Detective!Y/N has trouble cracking Suspect!Harry. But he seemed to have cracked her. (4k words)

Warnings: violence at the end (this includes blood), mentions of death and murder, angst if you could call it that. I am probably missing some but PLEASE do not read this if you are not comfortable with the themes that are portrayed above.

They tried to pin a murder on him, little old Harry who couldn’t swat a fly. Not in his right mind, anyway.

He was quite confused when they called him in with the intent of asking him questions regarding the night of December 12th. He doesn’t remember anything about that night at all, in fact. He was seemingly blackout drunk in the corner of his best friend’s apartment with a bottle of vodka in his hand and a hat fell on his face as his mouth fell open and soft snores fell out as everyone around him danced into the early morning.

December twelfth.

The day his mom died, the day he tries to forget every year, the day he takes off from work, the day he does everything but think.

He sat silently in the room- the walls a bleak grey and the lights dim. There were no windows except the small piece of glass that sat at the top of the textured door and in each corner of the room there sat a small security camera that followed Harry intently.

His fingers tapped in a calming rhythm of threes and his leg bounced lightly in anticipation for his interrogation. His eyes darted from his hands that were splayed out in front of him to the camera directly across from him as he leaned father back into his chair and stretched his legs out fully.

He let out a sigh as he sat in silence- he was bored and ready to go home. It was an utter waste of time in his mind- there was nothing he could give away. He wasn’t there, as much as he could match the description of a white male with brown hair with a few extra inches off the top of his head.

The door squealed as it opened, a woman scurrying in with a folder of files in her arms and a navy pantsuit hugging her figure as she sits down at the table across from him, “Hi, Harry, I’m Detective Y/N Y/L/N,” her hand reached out calmly to meet Harrys.

He watched her as they shook hands and he pulled his hand back and folded it into his harm, “Uh, just to be clear, there’s a microphone right there,” she gestured across from her where his hands once rested, “It’s quite small and you should refrain from putting your hands over it, unless you want to come back for a day of interrogation,” she chuckled softly.

Harry nodded silently as she continued to stumble through her opening lines, “There are cameras in each corner so this is being recorded. Do with that as you will,” she sighs before opening her file and sitting up straighter than before.

“Well, uh, Harry, I appreciate you coming in today. I know it’s a bit harder with cases like this… we try to refrain from declaring someone as, uh,” she paused to find her words.

“Mhm,” Harry hummed in understanding.

“As not being alive until we have evidence that they’re not, so we uh, we’re treating this case as an emergence.”

“Absolutely, yeah,” Harry commented with a small frown falling onto his face.

“Okay so, uh, we’ll be fast forwarding through some details that we would finalize later and we will have this be a bit more thorough of an interview so we don’t have to keep calling you back again,” she trailed off into silence. “Theresa read you your rights earlier and I just want to reiterate that you can walk to the lobby if you ever feel uncomfortable and I will treat you with respect and have the same expectation for you.”

“‘Course,” he nods in understanding.

“So uh, would you agree that there is a, a connection, uh geographically, with you and your mother Anne’s death and her, uh, supposed murderer Russell Williams?”

Harry’s face fell slightly, “Uh, sure, yeah, geographically,” he was in a state of shock. He didn’t expect his mother to be brought up.

“Alright so to be quite frank, uh, that’s a bit of why you were more of a suspect- matched the description from Miss Canaue, uh, Mr. Williams’s neighbor, and uh, your obvious connection with the man,” Y/N informed the man before him. Her eyes met his for the first time since she walked in and he appreciated the contact. He nodded as a response, urging Y/N to continue.

“So, uh, let’s backtrack. Why did you miss work on the tenth? Your log reported you called in as sick, is this true?”

“Yes, that is true. I had been getting over a stomach bug that weekend. Called in sick to finish my recovery,” Harry confirmed.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “And had you contacted your doctor because you had felt, uh, sick that weekend?”

“Not necessarily,” Harry trailed off, “I called so I could have him prescribe me more promethazine… but besides that, I did not speak to him about my symptoms.”

“Alright,” Y/N glanced at the file that was open before her, “Were you bedridden for the majority of that day?”

“No, I went to the grocery store that night and I picked up my prescription from the pharmacy round the corner from my apartment,” Harry explained. He stretched his legs out further, a nervous tick he had developed when in school. Y/N’s demeanor intimidated him- he felt his body trying to move at every opportunity to create distance between himself and the woman before him.

“And do you remember the route you took to the grocery store?” Y/N asked with a slight quirk in her eyebrow.

Harry’s brows furrowed at the odd question, “Probably went down Main Street and went to the Publix off 86th.

“And you’re aware that Mr. Williams lives off of 86th?”

“Sure,” Harry nods.

“Alright, and I’m assuming you’re unaware that Miss Canaue saw a man with a similar appearance the night of the tenth?” Y/N’s eyes watched Harry’s carefully as he decided his next words carefully.

“No, I did not know that, but I go down that route every day. Don’t see how that makes me a suspect.”

“Yes, but you were sick,” Y/N pressed.

“Yeah, had a bug,” he repeated.

“Right, so you were sick and left your apartment once- possibly twice- that day and still managed to be around his home?”

Harry let out an obnoxious groan and ran a hand over his face, “It’s the fuckin grocery store off the largest street here. If that makes me a suspect better get everyone who has brunette curls,” he argued.

“Harry you’re not the only suspect. And you’re not on trial.”

He let out a scoff at Y/N’s ironic comment, “Yeah but if you don’t believe me, I will be,” he said, “Falsely,” he muttered.

It was a wonder that he hadn’t taken up the offer to leave whenever he felt uncomfortable considering Harry was repeating a string of curses towards the poor girl in his mind like a mantra.

He had been sitting in the uncomfortable fold out chair for two hours and Y/N’s posture has deteriorated significantly in their time- though she was just as scary as the first moment she strode into the room.

Harry was deciding if it was the confidence that surged from her body or if it was the navy pantsuit she wore that made her seem like a lawyer going into the courtroom with a billionaire- she just had a way about her that screamed power and Harry loved it- he was intrigued and distracted by her, though he also wanted to shove her out of the room.

“Mr. Styles?” she asked with a sharp tone, “On the twelfth you were out partying?” she asked, confused.

Harry nodded, “Correct.”

“Then why did you take off work?”

“It was the day my mum- Anne died. Take it off every year and go to my best mates house. He throws a party and I get drunk.”

“Mr. Horan, yes? He’s a suspect as well,” Y/N mumbled.

“What did he get too close to 86th? Is it because he’s embracing the natural brown of his hair? Told him he should’ve stayed blonde,” Harry snapped back. He was impossibly tired and more than ready to be headed home- he didn’t do anything- that he was certain of.

Y/N’s eyes trace her file and slowly find Harry’s, “If you don’t want to continue you are more than welcome to come back another day but I do not appreciate the tone you are using. You are not on trial and Mr. Horan is not on trial. We are just trying to find information.”

Harry’s eyes diverted quickly. He felt like he was being scolded by his mum after getting a bad grade on a math test; ‘It’s not my fault my teacher sucks!’ he would defend.

“It just seems like I’ve been here for ages and we aren’t getting anywhere- am I really just a suspect or are you lot convinced I’m the murderer of another murderer?”

“It seems you have strong feelings towards Mr. Williams and it seems as though we are not reaching when we assume you had something to do with it- whether that be hiring someone or doing it yourself we don’t know,” Y/N sighs out.

She uncrosses her legs and folds her arms above the table. Leaning into her own body, she comments with just low enough of a volume to be deemed seductive, “Am I incorrect with my assumption, Mr. Styles?”

Harry mirrored her body language, “Extremely. I had nothing to do with this. Wasn’t even conscious.”

“Am I incorrect in my reasoning?”

Harry takes a long pause knowing he has to choose his words carefully, “No but that reasoning can be applied to far too many people for you to make a definitive conclusion.”

Y/N tuts softly while reading over her evidence, “Alright fair enough.” She maintains eye contact with Harry for a short moment before putting the papers back into the manila file folder.

“What’re you doing?” Harry perks up, straightening his posture and pushes his chair back slightly.

“We have been going in circles for two hours. I think we are in need of a break, no?”

“Uh- sure yeah,” Harry left a pregnant pause before he spoke again, “Do you- uh- do you want to get food?”

Y/N stood from her chair with a relieved sigh. She checks her watch before looking at Harry, “I think that’s a conflict of interest,” she sent him a soft smile.

“What if we just conveniently end up at the same restaurant?” Harry asks, “Then maybe our tables are right next to each other so we just decide to sit at the same table to save space.”

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle and glances at the microphone that sat at the table. Harry eyes the microphone and stands up, his jacket dropping on top of it.

“I’ll be at the café down the road in ten minutes- please don’t be late,” Y/N whispers. Harry sends her a smile before nodding slightly and picking up his jacket, making his way to the door, leaving in a hurried motion.

Y/N smiles to herself before following him, leaving at a leisurely pace. “We’ll be back in an hour, Theresa. Keep the room open, please.”

Y/N was purposefully vague with her location- she didn’t know if he was just fucking around or if he genuinely wanted to have lunch. So, she settled on telling him it was a café- one of four that was down the road from the station. She said not to be late so she knew that if he found her, he was being serious.

It was an odd precaution to take, but she was not going to allow Harry, a supposed murderer, seduce her into relieving his suspect status. She was careful and calculated for that reason. She wanted to ensure that he wasn’t using her in the many ways he could.

Y/N was a beautiful woman and Harry was not blind to that. She sat prim and proper and wore clothes that fit her body just right. Her face, though seemingly free of makeup, seemed to be the most attractive one he’s seen in ages- though he would never let that slip. As much as he could deny his involvance with the case, he was a suspect and getting lunch with his interrogator is all too suspicious to begin with.

“You found me,” she smiled once she saw Harry’s curls in her peripheral vision.

“Honest to god, it was the first place I looked. And I used to come here all the time. Food’s the best,” he said, settling in across from her.

She looked up from the menu she held in her hands, “Used to?”

“Am I still under interrogation?” Harry asked while setting his coat across his chair.

“Are there still cameras here?” Y/N countered.

“Probably,” Harry shrugged, “You can never be too sure.” He nodded in appreciation as a waiter passed him and handed him a menu of his own. “I stopped coming when my mum passed. We would come here for brunch every Sunday with my sister. Haven’t really been here all too often in the past few years.”

Y/N hummed in understanding, “Makes sense. I only come here after a long shift. Not exactly my favorite place to eat but it’s close. And good enough.”

“What do you mean not the best,” Harry’s jaw dropped dramatically.

“What have you not been to the diner downtown? Maybe three blocks from here?”

“Uh, no?”

“Well that’s why this is sufficient for you,” she jokes, “Nothing compares to that place.”

“What does it have sentimental value to you?”

“A bit. Used to go there all the time when I was in school. I did everything there- studied, talked,” she paused, “ate.”

“Yes, the most important. Eating.” Harry countered.

“Okay, so what do you recommend from here?”

“Well, for breakfast, I’d say the tofu scramble, for lunch I’d order the meatball sub- marinara and melted cheese of course,” Harry looked up at the girl in front of him to see she had a wide smile.

“Of course.”

“For a snack I’d get any pastry- they have new ones all the time so I just try what sounds good. They’re always unbelievable. And for dinner,” Harry hums while scanning the menu, “For dinner I liked the french onion soup,” Harry concluded.

Y/N’s face scrunched together in disbelief, “French onion soup? God, you are crazy.”

“I’ll be honest I don’t like it from anywhere but here. It’s just done so well,” Harry confesses.

“I won’t take your word for it. Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I will try that meatball sub. Can you order for me? I don’t know what exactly to say,” she trailed off, her lower lip jutting out slightly with that request.

Harry hummed a yes before getting up to fulfill the request. Y/N’s eyes followed his body diligently. He walked with a sense of purpose and carried his body easily- it was almost scary to the girl who sits across from his empty seat. What was his purpose?

He stood watching the chef make their two identical sandwiches in a comforting silence. He was taken back to his youth where this was a regular occurrence- watching the older man as he puts the subs under broiler so the cheese could melt just right- something he always found fascinating. He could probably make the sub from memory after watching it be made so many times.

He nodded in appreciation, paying for the subs in exact change before bringing them back to their table, “Two meatball subs with melted cheese and marinara.”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled, beginning to eat the (surprisingly) amazing sandwich.

Harry ended up going back to a station for another hour before leaving back to his studio for the night. He had a great lunch with Y/N and was filled with a lifetime of regret for not getting her number. He knew if he called the station for it, the call would be recorded and she would get in trouble. So, he was stuck.

It was less than a day since their last meeting and there he was, sitting in front of a bare wall with his eyes locked on the texture that could be seen over the white paint. He found himself in a fit of fury with himself- maybe he should say he has more information so he could see her again? But he knew that wouldn’t bode well for the case.

He had no way to contact her, but then again, he wasn’t in a position to speak to her outside of the case anyway. He was still a suspect and she was still his investigator, even if she was a funny, uplifting girl who he had found himself thinking about constantly.

The only way they could make contact would be if she went into his file to find his number, or in other words, their reconnecting lies on the flimsiest threads. And that devastated the man.

He was apprehensive to go out drinking again. He always seemed to black out; not remembering a single detail from his previous night's adventures. But, he found that not remembering was the key to getting over the girl in the navy pantsuit, so he decided to forget.

He had gone out with Niall, going bar hopping for a few hours before Harry couldn’t stand anymore and he passed out in a bar bathroom. Niall was busy with a girl he had seen when he walked in so Harry was alone. He felt the world revolving around him as he laid against the bar countertop with his head on his arms.

Y/N didn’t notice it was Harry when she walked into the bar. In fact, she didn’t even see him. His back was slumped over his body and the poor guy seemed to be out of his mind. It was a wonder that she had a feeling she knew the man.

She stood next to him as she asked for a scotch on the rocks with a twist- her usual. She glanced at the man a few times, trying her hardest to not be rude, “I’m sorry, is he okay?” she asked the bartender who just shrugged in response before moving to another customer.

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh before gently bringing a hand to his shoulder, “Sir?” she called to him.

He let out a few grumbles before moving his head up slightly, “I’m alright,” he slurred together before dropping his head back down.

“I don’t think you are,” she muttered to herself before sitting down in the seat next to his, “Do you have someone who can take you home?”

“I have two working legs.”

“I don’t think they are working very well tonight,” she chuckled at him.

He groaned before moving his head to look at the girl who was sitting next to him, “My friends somewhere ‘round here,” his eyes shut even tighter than before.

That’s when Y/N recognized the man who sat next to her. Her eyes widened in realization, “Harry?” she asked in shock.

Harry’s eyes opened instantly at the sound of his name. He let out a sigh when he saw it was just Y/N. “Thought I heard my mum’s voice. Don’t do that to me,” he tells her.

“Why are you here?” she asks as Harry sits up.

Harry paused before answering, “I have my reasons.”

Y/N chuckled, “Well alright. I’m going to head out. Stay safe tonight, Harry,” she told him.

Harry was quick to reply, “Wait!” he called after her.

Y/N turned around, slightly unimpressed with his timing, “Yes?”

“Can I- can I get your number?” he asks, his syllables hardly pronounced.

Y/N glanced at her friends who were off dancing before looking back at Harry, “Sure,” she responded.

Harry’s face was quick to become one of pure excitement, looking exactly like a kid in a candy shop, “Alright,” he fumbled a bit while handing her his phone.

It was routine for Niall to be gone into the night with a random girl- truly it was routine for Harry to be gone too. But, he had a change of heart recently so he began wandering the streets on his own before finding his way home in the depth of the night.

He wasn’t fully sure of where he was going but he knew he would find his way back eventually- just an overpriced uber ride away from his home. He began by walking to his mother's grave. It wasn’t a new thing that he did but it hurt just as much each time. He would go sit with her and grieve silently as the night washed away from him.

Old habits die hard and there he was at the graveyard’s entrance looking to see if anyone was there. It was three in the morning but he knew the night was just beginning. People were still out and people, alike from Harry, were grieving.

He sat there at his mother's grave for a while, his thoughts racing. He felt as if he wasn’t in control of his own body. The whole world was speeding by and his legs carried him in circles around the town, always leading back to the graveyard, as Harry’s brain was extremely detached from his actions.

That probably explains why what he did next was so shocking to him.

He wasn’t fully conscious- he couldn’t tell you anything that has happened since he left the bar. Harry was out of it. That was a fact. He stood at his mother's gravestone, a knife in hand (the one he kept hidden under a pile of slowly rotting flowers that he would bring once a week).

He stood to his full height when he saw the headlights approaching the lot next to him. Out stepped a young man white rich, red hair. He was tall, taller than Harry, and he had a devastated look on his face.

Harry guessed the man was in his very early twenties. He looked like a university student who got to go off campus for the weekend. There seemed to be another person in the car but it was hard for him to see properly, ‘If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, right?’ he told himself.

Harry watched the man approach a grave a bit farther from where he stood. He waited exactly two minutes before walking towards him with a sinister smile masked on his face.

The man’s eyes flickered to Harry’s before going back to the grave, “I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry speaks lowly to the man.

He looked directly as Harry and mustered up a small smile before his eyes widened in realization. Harry’s hand made contact with his chest, the knife slicing through his body readily. The color of the crimson blood made him grin- he felt justice when he saw the blood oozing off another human: first his mum, then her murderer, and now an innocent.

Harry was very satisfied, ready to walk back to his home and wash the blood off his hands, quite literally, when he heard a few footsteps crunching the dead leaves that had fallen on the ground in the dead of winter.

And that’s when he heard her angelic voice calling out his name. He could only imagine the expression on her face while her voice, as smooth as honey, called out to him, “Harry?”

He turned expectantly to the woman he had grown infatuated with, “Hello, Y/N.”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshot #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #harry imagine #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

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bee-kathony · 3 years

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“war room” | the Darkling x Alina

Alina sneaks off in the middle of the night to find the Darkling. She finds him in the war room, planning their journey to find the stag. (Yes, this is inspired by that one second clip of the Darkling touching Alina's face in the trailer jfkldj)

“I should be in the war room, hearing their report. I should be planning our trip north. But I’m not, am I?” He had said, his arms wrapped tightly around her body.

Alina was still reeling from their earlier encounter. When he’d led her away to an empty corridor and placed his mouth all over her skin. He had wanted to be there with her, and only her. They’d spotted Morozova’s herd, and yet he wanted to be with her.

She sat in her room, hours after the fete had come to an end, her mind racing. There was no possible way that she could sleep now, not with the touch of his lips on hers still present. That touch that made her want more, more of him. Alina should be upset with herself for allowing him to touch her like that, but it had felt so good and so right. It was as if everything was aligned.

What she really wanted to do was sneak through the halls of the Little Palace and search the Darkling out. Perhaps he was still in the war room, going over their plans. Maybe he was in his room, preparing to sleep like she should’ve been.

Without thinking too hard, Alina jumped up from her bed and slid her feet into a pair of comfortable slippers. As soon as she’d come back from the fete, she’d changed into a blue robe that she now tightened around herself. This was absolute madness, she thought, going to find him.

What if she was caught? What would she say?

Oh yes, I’m just looking for the toilet, lost my way.

Alina sighed, and debated if she should even go, but her hand was already on the doorknob. She turned it slowly so not to make a sound and stuck her head out of the door. Luckily, there was no one in sight and so she stepped out into the quiet hallway.

It was odd to be alone here at night, but Alina wasn’t afraid. If anything, she was nervous and excited for what might happen. Her hearted skipped a beat as she realized that she did in fact want something to happen when she found the Darkling. She wanted to relive those moments with his hands all over her. His breath hot on her ear.

A second later, she heard voices and she ran to hide behind a column, waiting for them to either pass or go a different direction. It sounded like Genya, but she couldn’t be sure. A few minutes later, all was silent again.

Alina moved quietly, sticking to the shadows until finally she came to stand outside the doors leading to his rooms. Hoping that no one was watching, she opened them and snuck in, pausing on the other side to shut the door as quietly as possible.

Now that she was here, she didn’t quiet know where to go. Looking to her left, she saw only darkness, and to her right she saw light under one of the doors. Silently, she tiptoed towards the large double doors and pressed her ear to the door.

“We should leave as soon as possible,” Ivan’s voice said through the thick wood.

Alina listened for other voices, but she could assume either no one else was given the right to speak, or it was just Ivan and the Darkling in the war room.

“Yes,” the Darkling said. “Tomorrow. Or perhaps the next day. I want this done.”

He wanted to find the stag, she knew this. Alina wondered if that meant she would be leaving tomorrow with them as well. Or would he simply bring back the stag to her?

Ivan and the Darkling murmured something that was too low for her to understand, but then Ivan was saying his farewells and Alina gasped, looking for somewhere to hide. Just as she ducked into the shadows around a pillar, the door opened and Ivan walked out, shutting it behind him.

Alina held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t see her, and thankfully Ivan left without glancing towards her. She waited, however, to see if the Darkling would return to his room or stay in the war room.

Minutes must have passed and he didn’t leave. So Alina took a deep breath and walked once again to the large double doors. Should she knock? Just creep in? Scare him half to death?

Alina rolled her eyes. Of course, he wouldn’t be scared of her, but she was still unsure of what to do next. She wasn’t exactly well versed in the art of seduction — if she even wanted to call it that.

“You might as well come in,” said the Darkling on the other side of the door.

Alina froze, thinking he surely wasn’t talking to her and then the door opened and he stood looming before her.

“Alina,” he said, a small smile on his lips. “How long were you planning on standing there in the dark?”

“A very long time,” Alina said and straightened her shoulders.

The Darkling took a step back, motioning with his hand for her to enter. She hesitated, but briefly, before walking in to the impressive room. A large table stood in the center of the room, covered with maps. This was where strategy was decided, this was where plans were made. She looked around, taking it all in before turning to face him.

He had shut the door, leaving them alone and now stood directly in front of her, his hands clasped. It was then that she noted what he was wearing — not his black kefta, but a simple black robe, much like hers. It occurred to her that she had never seen him out of his kefta before and the thought made her blush.

“Do I have to ask why you’re here, Alina?” He said, that same smile on the corner of his lips. A knowing smile.

“I wanted to see you,” she said truthfully. Alina had never been one to hide her motives. And she found is nearly impossible to lie to him.

A small flicker of surprise crossed his features before it faded. “You would’ve seen me tomorrow.”

“Yes,” she nodded. Her hands began to fidget and she clasped them behind her back so he wouldn’t see them tremble. She may tell the truth, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him that she wanted to kiss him again.

“I assume you heard our plans to leave tomorrow?” The Darkling asked as he walked past her, reaching the large table and leaned against it. Alina turned to face him, taking a few steps towards him until she stood in front of him.

Alina nodded, “Am I to go with you?”

“If you want,” he smiled then. “I would like for you to.”

“Then I’ll go,” she said.

They were silent, and Alina’s face grew hot from his intense gaze.

“Alina…”

“Yes?” She met his eyes, searching.

He held out a hand to her, and her belly did a flip, followed by a somersault before doing a cartwheel. Alina reached out and took it, a laugh almost escaping her lips as that same rush of surety filled her. The Darkling pulled her closer so that he could now settle his other hand on her waist.

“I asked you if I could come and see you tonight,” he said softly. This man before her was not the stern and powerful man she’d grown accustomed to. This man was gentle, and seemed to lose all sensibility when in her presence. At least she had some effect on men it seemed.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Alina blushed, her head dropping. His fingers cupped her chin, pulling her face to look at him.

“I would only come to you if you agreed,” he looked at her intensely. “If you wanted it… me.”

“I do,” Alina said on a whisper, her hand reaching up to lay against his chest. “I do.”

The Darkling moved his hand to caress her cheek before moving to grasp the side of her head. “Alina,” he sighed her name. “You were right earlier. I don’t want to be doing this. This… this pull to you—“

“It frightens me,” she finished and he nodded.

“I have grown used to not needing anyone,” he said and this made her heart squeeze. She moved her hand to his neck, feeling his strong pulse. “To want you… it makes me vulnerable.”

“I have never been wanted,” Alina said, her voice wavering.

The Darkling pulled her closer and she came flush against his body, feeling every muscle. Without thinking, her hands settled on the collar of his robe, tugging. His hand moved to cup the back of her head and suddenly his mouth was on hers again.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and her senses took control. Alina moaned as his tongue parted her lips, begging entrance. She gave into him, bending to his will. The Darkling’s hand moved to grasp her bottom, pressing her body to his. She felt him, that hard throbbing length hidden under layers of clothes. He really did want her.

“Alina,” he whispered her name like a prayer. His mouth moved to place hot kisses along her cheek, jaw and settled on her neck.

She didn’t want to think in this moment, but simply give everything over to him. All of the weeks she had spent wondering about him, about what it would feel like to be with him — now was the moment.

Both his hands gripped her bottom and her world spun until she was turned and placed onto the large table, her legs spread. A cold breeze flew past her legs as her robe opened. One of her slippers dropped to the ground with a gentle thud and the Darkling came to stand in between her thighs. His mouth was on hers, insistent and hungry. Alina wrapped one leg around his waist, leaning back slightly to pull him on top of her.

“I want to taste you,” he sighed against her lips. She wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but she nodded.

“I want that too,” she smiled as his eyes met hers. He was like a new man, as if something had unlocked inside of him. As if all along, she was the key.

The Darkling gently pushed her to lay back on the table. He was fit snugly between her thighs, and Alina had never seen a more beautiful sight. Then his hands went to the tie of her robe and he pulled them loose, pushing the material on either side of her body. What remained was a thin nightgown, one with buttons on the top.

“Say the word and I’m yours,” he said, his hands gripping her thighs.

“Please,” she didn’t hesitate this time.

A smile lit up his face, and Alina’s heart soared as he bent and kissed her. His hands moved to the buttons of her nightgown and he had them undone in seconds. She shivered as his fingers on her thighs squeezed and then began to push up the thin material. Alina had never been so exposed to a man like this. The material moved higher and higher until he was pulling her to lean up and lift it over her head. Now she lay naked before him, lying on her discarded robe.

“You’re beautiful, Alina,” his hand skimmed the smooth skin of her stomach. “You can’t even imagine the things I want to do to you.”

“Oh,” she choked, feeling heat crawl along her body.

His hand moved to cup her breast, feeling its weight before pressing a thumb to her hard nipple. Her belly tightened as shockwaves of pleasure sent from her nipple to between her thighs. Involuntarily, she clamped her thighs around him, her breath catching in her throat.

“You like that?” He smirked before pressing his left hand to her other breast.

Alina nodded, arching her back to his touch. This encouraged the Darkling and he leaned down to press a wet kiss to her lips before licking down her neck until his mouth was between the valley of her breasts. His mouth opened over her nipple and he took her in, sucking deeply. His cheeks hollowed and Alina cried out.

“No one will hear you here,” the Darkling pulled back, placing a kiss to the underside of her soft skin. “Be as loud as you want, Alina.”

Alina slid one hand into his hair, pulling firmly and guiding him to her neglected breast. He repeated the same action, his tongue flicking out methodically on her nipple before sucking. Both her legs tightened around him as she squirmed.

The Darkling cupped both her breasts, pushing them together as he devoured each one. Her body tingled and without realizing it, Alina’s hands were glowing softly with her power. He kept sucking on her breasts until the pink nipples were nearly swollen from his touch. Alina gasped loudly as his hand moved in between their bodies, settling on her center.

“I know you like it when I touch you there,” he sighed, pressing one long finger up and down her slick wetness. “Am I the first?”

“The only,” she confirmed, looking up at him.

A wide grin spread across his lips and he pushed his finger inside of her, watching as her face twisted into pleasure. Alina had never felt something like this in all her life, and she reached out to grip his arm, wanting more.

“Please,” she begged him, now looking at his hand inside of her.

“You’re so tight,” he looked down to see her, pumping another finger inside of her. He moved in slow strokes, feeling her stretch around him. As Alina’s body welcomed the pleasant intrusion, he began to move faster, the heel of his hand pressing against her clit.

“I need more,” Alina panted, sitting up on her elbows.

“More?” He leaned down to kiss her. “I can give you much more, Alina.”

Much to her protestation, he removed his fingers, but only to untie his robe, letting it fall open. He went to the drawstrings of his loose trousers, and let the material fall around his ankles. Alina’s mouth watered as she took in the sight of his cock. He was huge and thick, with one throbbing blue vein that made her lick her lips.

“I don’t know if I can be gentle,” the Darkling said as he took his cock in his hand. “Please tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she reached for him, sitting up and positioning herself on the edge of the table. His other arm wrapped around her to hold her steady as he placed his cock against her wet entrance. Just from that one touch, Alina was trembling.

“Please,” she begged him. “I need you!”

The Darkling grunted as he slid forward. He was still for a moment, easing himself in until he broke through. Alina gasped as pain flowed through her body, and tears stung her eyes. The Darkling pulled her close and she rested her head against his chest. Once she adjusted to his cock being inside of her, Alina nodded and he began to move. He filled her fully, moving in and out, pushing to the hilt. His balls slapped against her as he picked up speed. Alina looked up to see him staring at her. She claimed his mouth, wanting to take as much of him as possible inside of her.

Tears began to slide down her cheeks, but they weren’t Alina’s. Her eyes flashed open to see tears stain his cheeks and a near sob left her own throat. Alina reached up and wiped them away. He pressed his forehead against hers, and she gripped his shoulders. The Darkling angled her body and pushed forward, picking up a steady rhythm. His cock moved in and out, stretching her.

Alina cried out as her body began to shake in his arms. He was thrusting hard, and holding her body close to his. Her legs opened wider to take him in, and as his lips pressed to hers once again, Alina felt a rush of pleasure unknown to her race through her body. She saw stars and light, her body trembling.

The Darkling pushed forward several more times, his lips at her throat before he grunted, spilling himself inside of her. He then was still, clutching her body to his like a life preserver.

“My Alina,” he whispered and stroked her hair softly.

Alina wanted to weep at the gentleness of his voice, and savored the feeling of his embrace. She had no regrets about seeking him out, only wonderful memories that she would carry for the rest of her life. Of course, she was already thinking about the next time, and hoped it would be soon.

“Come,” he leaned back and kissed her nose. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you can rest.”

Carefully, he scooped her up into his arms, and carried her naked body across the hall and down another corridor until they reached what could only be his room. He gently deposited her onto his bed and Alina blushed. Even after what they had just done, she couldn’t help but blush at the idea of being in his room.

She waited for him to return with a warm wet cloth and he parted her legs, gently cleaning between them before cleaning between his own thighs. Then he joined her on his bed and she crawled to lay down with him, snuggled between his arms. His chin rested on hers, and he took a deep breath.

“You have no idea what that meant to me, Alina,” he said into the night.

She moved in closer, inhaling his clean scent. The crisp edge of a winter wind. Bare branches. The smell of absence, the smell of night.

“It was pretty life changing for me as well,” she smiled and kissed his chest.

They held each other for what could have been hours. They both wanted to say more, but neither wanted to ruin the sacredness of the moment. At some point, Alina fell asleep, content and with a smile on her face.

When she next opened her eyes, she was disappointed to find that she was alone in bed. The sun was just beginning to shine, and Alina blinked several times in the darkness. She was alone.

But a heavy weight covered her naked body, and as her hands touched the fabric, she gasped to find that it was the Darkling’s black kefta resting over her. Alina ran her hands over the soft material, a smile creeping on her face as she imagined him draping this over her in the night.

Moments later, the door creaked open, spilling light into the room. He closed the door quietly before him, his eyes settling on her. He smiled as he realized she was awake and came to sit beside her.

“You shivered in the night,” he said, laying a hand on his kefta. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I thought I should retrieve the clothes we left in the other room.”

“Good thinking,” Alina smiled lazily, tugging the kefta around her body, inhaling his scent once again.

His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into it. “There is nothing I would want more than to spend all day lying in this bed with you. Showing you all the things I want to do with you.”

“But we have to go,” she pouted and he laughed.

“We do,” he grinned. “And you need to return to your room before someone sees you leaving mine.”

“How scandalous,” Alina mock gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Kiss me again.”

The Darkling obeyed and leaned down, kissing her deeply, moaning as her tongue slipped between his lips. Alina wrapped both her arms snugly around his neck and pulled him on top of her.

“Surely we have a little bit of time,” she rubbed her nose against his.

“I’ll make time,” the Darkling chuckled, pressing his hips to hers.

Soon, they were all rushing limbs as they joined together for the second time. Alina would think of their night repeatedly as they left hours later to find Morozova’s stag. And when her eyes met the Darkling’s in the carriage, a twinkle of humor filled them both. Things would never be the same.

#grisha trilogy #shadow and bone #s&b #sab #the darkling #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #darkling x alina #darklina #darkling fanfic #my fic #war room

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themurphyzone · 3 years

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PatB Oneshot: A Whole New Life for You and Me

For the air mice nyoom’s server Secret Santa for @deez-art! Decided to gift them a fic for the wonderful Brainladdin AU cause it’s so pure and I live for found family. I decided to go with the happy ending for the movie, cause Genie’s reaction upon being freed melts me every time.

@nuttersincorporated came up with the fun idea of Wakko calling Brainladdin ‘Dad’ and Brainladdin denying it every time. I thought it was cute XD

Summary: The evil Snowballjafar has been defeated, but there's still some loose ends that need to be wrapped up. And really, there are way too many emotions going on here for Brainladdin's comfort.

AO3 Link (No FFN post cause AO3 has easier x-over system).

No power, however grandiose and terrifying, could go unchecked by the laws of the universe. Snowballjafar had forgotten there were unseen forces far greater than himself, even with phenomenal cosmic power at his fingertips.

The price to pay? Itty bitty living space inside a cramped magical lamp.

Brainladdin stared down at the black lamp that now contained his former friend turned enemy. While part of him would always remember Snowballjafar as a fellow young orphan on the streets, he also knew that this fate was karma for all of the hamster’s cruelty.

Jaspinky wouldn’t be forced into a union he didn’t want. Yakko wouldn’t be forced to hurt the people he’d come to regard as his younger siblings. Wakko and Dot wouldn’t be forced to live in an ACMEbah under Snowballjafar’s iron command.

ACMEbah was restored. Everyone was safe.

Brainladdin gave the lamp to Yakko, now back to his normal self, or as normal as could be for a wisecracking genie with a penchant for cartoonish humor.

“Allow me,” Yakko said, winking at Wakko and Dot as he zipped towards the palace balcony that overlooked the city. The kids eagerly scrambled over to the balcony to watch the proceedings.

In a flash of light, Yakko now wore a backwards blue cap, Wakko sported some strange armor that covered his chest and face, and Dot had a pink helmet with her trademark yellow flower painted on the side. Wakko and Dot grinned up at Yakko with adoring expressions, hanging off the balcony a little too eagerly for Brainladdin’s peace of mind.

“Wakko! Get off that railing at once!” Brainladdin shouted.

“Yes, Pops,” Wakko said in the universal ‘exasperated teen’ tone, which Brain suspected he’d picked up from Yakko. But Wakko planted his two feet on safe ground anyway, settling for standing on his tiptoes instead.

“I’m not—oh forget it,” Brainladdin sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he’d rather just take the defeat now instead of prolonging it.

Jaspinky giggled, his jewelry swaying gently with every movement. His blue eyes sparkled once again, a much welcomed change from the abject terror he had experienced while drowning in the sand-filled hourglass. And really, he looked much better in blue and gold than seductive red.

It was an objective fact.

Yakko held the lamp in his left arm, then wound it so fast that it resembled a blue whirlwind. “This is it, folks! The real teeth-clenching, nailbiting, game-winning swing of whatever century we’re in!”

Another magical burst, and Brainladdin found himself holding a tiny triangular flag emblazoned with Dot’s flower. Jaspinky screamed in glee, waving a giant pointing foam finger that now covered his right hand. Brainladdin rolled his eyes, but held the flag as high as he could in a silent show of support.

Dot readied her large mallet as Wakko crouched behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his hand. Yakko zipped to the other side of the balcony, then hurled the lamp towards Dot with all his might.

THWACK!

Dot’s mallet connected with the lamp and sent it soaring high into the blue sky and far beyond the walls of ACMEbah, straight into the heart of the vast desert.

“THAT’S FOR JASPINKY, MY BROTHERS, AND BRAINLADDIN CAUSE I FEEL LIKE BEING GENEROUS, YOU STUPID HAMSTER!” Dot screamed as she dashed around the balcony at high speeds, high-fiving Jaspinky’s foam finger as she passed him.

“And it’s outta here, thanks to my new sister sib! What a swing!” Yakko ruffled Dot’s hair as she threw herself at Wakko, knocking him down from his crouched position. The two laughed and embraced, laughing in joy and relief that their ordeal was really over. The duo began an odd victory dance that involved a lot of stomping both of them and rude hand gestures to the horizon on Dot’s part. “He’s looking at uhhhhhhhh…about a ten thousand year sentence in the Cave of Wonders. Without parole or bail, unless some poor shmuck decides to release him in a cashgrab sequel. But that’s a problem for another time.”

Brainladdin allowed himself a tiny smile. And Jaspinky smiled that bright, silly smile that always seemed to make Brainladdin’s chest flutter swiftly and strange, but not in a wholly unpleasant way either.

To think this entire business had started out as a way to ascend to the throne of ACMEbah. Leave poverty behind him. Get Wakko some actual food and not worry about amputated limbs courtesy of angry shopkeepers.

He hadn’t counted on falling head over heels for Jaspinky’s gentle spirit. Who wanted to marry for love and not for power or fame or wealth. Nor had he counted on striking up a genuine friendship with a powerful magical being, who had wishes of his own yet was bound to the desires of his master.

Wakko lived by the rules of the street rat like Brainladdin, but he’d found a kinship with others willing to show him the affection Brainladdin couldn’t offer him.

Dot could finally be a child, a rather clever and self-sufficient one, and now she had brothers who would watch her back from this point on.

And Brainladdin found himself back to square one. There were other methods to take over ACMEbah, but he couldn’t continue perpetrating this lie.

Jaspinky deserved someone better than him. Wakko should be taken care of by people who would provide for every physical need and show him the love he deserved. He didn’t get along with Dot, but she was protective of Jaspinky, and it was by far her most admirable trait.

Most importantly, this quest would’ve been doomed to fail from the beginning if it hadn’t been for Yakko, who supported the endeavor in his snarky, playful way, entertained with his magic, and didn’t seem to begrudge Brainladdin for not keeping his promise when he’d been blinded by power.

Really, Yakko never should’ve been locked away from the world, only to come out when someone wanted to use him.

“Pondering again, Brainladdin?” Jaspinky asked. He took off the foam finger and set it down gently, then carefully pried the flag out of Brainladdin’s hands. His fingers were warm and gentle, much like how they’d held hands on that whimsical carpet ride just a few starlit nights ago.

“Yes,” Brainladdin said softly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then took Jaspinky’s hands in his and tried not to think about how this would be the last time he might ever see him. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about being a prince.”

Jaspinky teared up, his impossibly blue eyes reflecting the sky above. “It’s okay. I know why you did,” he whispered, like the lie was easy to forgive, just like that.

A street rat couldn’t hope to change a centuries-old law. Street rats had no power, no connections, no respect. And the Sultan-CEO wouldn’t approve of any match but the ones she selected for Jaspinky, regardless of his wishes.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Brainladdin squeezed Jaspinky’s hands, just to prolong releasing his hands for a little longer.

“It’s not fair,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I love you.”

Brainladdin had seen those words float around in every step, every touch, every look from Jaspinky. But to hear it spoken out loud…

Well, it seemed he would be yearning for much more than power once he returned to the street.

A few teardrops splashed down from above. Yakko sniffed into a handkerchief, and Wakko and Dot stopped dancing, the reality of the situation sinking in, judging from their crestfallen expressions.

“Sorry. Never been this invested in a love story before,” Yakko said, poofing the handkerchief away as he drifted down next to Brainladdin. “But ya still got one wish left. Might as well use it. Just say the word and it’s riches, elephants, an entourage, and the whole prince shebang.”

Even after I went back on my promise to set you free? Brainladdin wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. You still want to offer me a chance to be with Jaspinky?

“Eh, what’s an eternity of servitude to love?” Yakko stretched casually, as if he could read Brainladdin’s thoughts. He bumped noses with Jaspinky, who smiled despite his tears. “You only come across someone like Jaspinky…well, never actually. Then again, trying to score a date can be pretty hard when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Brainladdin cupped Jaspinky’s cheek in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t feel his warm, luxurious fur ever again.

“Jaspinky…while I-I reciprocate your affections, I can’t fabricate an entire persona to make you…you know.” Brainladdin looked down, unable to meet Jaspinky’s tearful gaze.

“Um…” Jaspinky just sounded confused.

“He stinks at admitting he loves you even though it’s completely obvious cause he actually wants you to be happy unlike all those other rotten, no-good, stuck-up jerkwad princes!” Dot shouted.

He could’ve done without the insult, but he nodded his thanks to Dot for the translation to Jaspinky terms.

“I understand, Brainladdin,” Jaspinky murmured. He kissed the back of Brainladdin’s hand, soft lips pressing against the calloused skin. Brainladdin allowed a moment for the kiss to settle, then pulled away to take care of one last piece of business.

“Yakko, I wish for your freedom,” Brainladdin declared.

This was his chance to set things right. So that Yakko would have his freedom, never be forced to serve a cruel master again, and fully become the loving, questionably responsible brother he was meant to be.

“Right away! Vipers, monkeys, gold, coming right-” Yakko said, dusting off his gloves and cracking his knuckles. He raised his arms, then paused in surprise, the final wish not quite registering yet. “-wait, what?”

Brainladdin held the lamp up to Yakko. The forever-teenager’s powers would be his own, never subject to anyone’s whims again.

“Yakko, you’re free.”

Blue smoke poured out of the lamp as it rose out of Brainladdin’s hands, swirling around Yakko’s body as he looked on, completely speechless for probably the first time in millennia. His eyebrows drew up in shock, his arms making odd, meaningless motions as if he didn’t know what to do with his own body. Bolts of cosmic, ancient magic weaved around Yakko in indescribable colors, sparking clouds of massive energy that had never been witnessed before or ever again.

Jaspinky rested his jaw on top of Brainladdin’s head, not caring if he squished his fez. Wakko’s tongue lolled out happily, and Dot bounced up and down in sheer amazement before catching herself and settling for a joyful grin. Together they watched the golden shackles around Yakko’s wrists break and vanish into a cloud of magical sparkles.

Yakko stared at his own bare wrists, rubbing them and feeling the fur beneath his bonds, probably for the first time in his long life. He turned them in every possible direction, his mouth making movements that were heavily reminiscent of a fish out of water.

“I’m free?” Yakko asked in disbelief. He gingerly picked up his lamp by the handle, tapping it a few times in case it had any power left. But the lamp had lost its golden sheen, its exterior now a dull brown. Yakko’s chest heaved up and down rapidly. “I’m free.”

His voice was tiny, not at all full of confidence and bravado as Brainladdin had admittedly grown fond of throughout this whole ordeal.

Then he cleared his throat, thrusting the depowered lamp into Brainladdin’s arms and startling Jaspinky enough that his arms slipped off Brainladdin’s head. Jaspinky laughed it off, and Brainladdin nudged him with his foot.

“Quick! Wish for something outrageous! Wish for denial!” Yakko begged as he covered his eyes, turning away from Brainladdin. “That’s it! Denial!”

Brainladdin shrugged, but obliged anyway. “I wish for denial?”

“Psych! Like you really need me for something you’ve already got!” Yakko shouted in Brainladdin’s face, giggling uncontrollably.

Brainladdin sighed and pushed Yakko’s face away from his, but Yakko’s glee was absolutely infectious, and even he couldn’t help but smile as Yakko bounced off pillars and roofs and the ground below, reveling in his newfound freedom. Whatever Yakko planned to do, Brainladdin had no doubts that the genie would use his liberation from the lamp well.

“I’mfreeI’mfreeI’mfree—I’M FREE!” Yakko chanted the mantra over and over. He lifted Wakko and Dot onto his shoulders and nuzzled their noses, and they returned the gesture with huge smiles. Wakko leaned a little too far over for comfort as the trio celebrated in midair, but it seemed that Yakko’s magic allowed him to stay on without worrying about the laws of physics.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world! You know how boring lamp interiors are? It’s good that you don’t, cause you’ll be bored if I answered that!” Yakko exclaimed as he conjured a long, blue slide that allowed Wakko and Dot to safely return to the balcony in style. Then he broke out an enormous suitcase, packing clothes, toys, and other items with a ridiculous amount of arms.

So Yakko planned to leave too. But Brainladdin tried to hang onto the joy of Yakko’s freedom for a little longer, trying not to linger on how his life always consisted of saying goodbye to anyone he met that he’d grown to…tolerate.

“Well, off to see the sights! Tahiti, China, the Galapagos, Pennsylvania, Switzer-“

Yakko paused and looked down, a bag of apples in one hand and a potted cactus in another. His mouth opened in surprise. He was watching Brainladdin.

Then Brainladdin’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, and his fingers came away damp. No one else had commented yet, though Jaspinky’s hand was on the small of his back, but Brainladdin said nothing. Best to ingrain the memory of Jaspinky’s soft touch in his mind while he had the chance.

Yakko wiped away a few tears of his own, his form shrinking until he was just a head taller than Wakko.

“Poit. I’ll let you have a moment,” Jaspinky whispered. Brainladdin only registered his words just as the gentle pressure vanished from his back. Dot knelt, taking Jaspinky in her cupped hands. She was silent, only giving Yakko an odd look before retreating into the palace for her own private conversation with the princess, leaving Wakko and Brainladdin alone with Yakko.

A case of déjà vu swept through Brainladdin. He and Wakko alone in the Cave of Wonders. Wakko bouncing along to a bombastic musical number, where he could have a fun childhood experience that ACMEbah refused to grant. Yakko’s excitement over simply talking to living beings.

At first, Yakko was just a means to an end. He was powerful, and it wasn’t difficult to work within the boundaries of his genie limitations. Maybe he could’ve took things more seriously, maybe he could’ve stopped jabbering for just a few seconds so Brainladdin could get a word or two in. Although Yakko had been trapped within a role, he still made everyone smile, he was protective, and he was kind.

“Hey.” Yakko tapped Brainladdin’s forehead. “You really oughta stop that brooding habit of yours.”

“I don’t brood. I ponder,” Brainladdin shot back, ridding himself of the watery veil in his eyes. Yakko provided him with a handkerchief, and Brainladdin blew his nose. The item poofed away. “Thanks, Yakko. For everything, and not just for convenient items you can create without obeying the laws of physics and other scientific fields.”

“Are you really gonna see the world?” Wakko asked, his eyes shining with wonder.

Wakko had expressed a desire to see the world many times before, but only so he could earn enough money to help Brainladdin put bread on the table. One of Brainladdin’s regrets about this elaborate plan falling through, really. Nobody, especially a child, should ever have to worry about rationing one loaf of bread and an apple to last a week.

Here was a prime opportunity for Wakko to experience the world without financial woes dragging him down from truly enjoying it, since Yakko could just create money and food as needed and serve as a somewhat responsible guardian for him.

Brainladdin didn’t ask though, but only because he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Wakko would never follow his own dream if he was constantly worried for Brainladdin, and it didn’t feel quite right to request something of Yakko so soon after his new freedom.

Yakko nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “Well, more than what I’m seeing right now, anyway. And really, it’s no problem-o. At least you guys aren’t boring. Can’t say the same about all the other masters I’ve had.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Wakko admitted. He held up his arms, and Yakko scooped him up in an enormous hug. Wakko flopped like a sack of potatoes, nuzzling into Yakko’s fur.

“Heh, you too, kid,” Yakko murmured. “Boy, have you been filling up on the palace’s sweetcakes or something since we started this whole thing?”

It wasn’t healthy sustenance by any means, but if Wakko was truly putting on weight, then Brainladdin saw no reason to complain.

Yakko shifted his brother so that he was secure in one arm, then set his other hand on the ground next to Brainladdin, who stepped into the offered palm. Yakko set Brainladdin on his shoulder, a gentle brush of magic preventing any accidental falls.

“Yakko…” Brainladdin could barely look him in the eye. “Though your antics could be somewhat over the top, you go about them with a certain degree of charm. And I suppose…I’ll miss you as well.”

“Awww, only somewhat over the top? Looks like I gotta up my game.” Yakko cracked a grin. Then he pushed his nose against Brainladdin’s, and while it was an odd feeling to be nuzzled on the nose, he didn’t push Yakko away either.

Wakko made an angry noise in the back of his throat.

Brainladdin shrugged. His dignity had been torn to shreds anyway. “I can learn to tolerate one more.”

And Wakko immediately closed the distance, his knee digging into Yakko’s smoky tail and somehow making him go ‘oomph’ even though there shouldn’t have been anything with substance there. Wakko’s nuzzle was somewhat rougher than Yakko’s, but it wasn’t anything Brainladdin couldn’t handle.

And this was long overdue, Brainladdin thought as he patted Wakko’s cheek. Had he ever done this while Wakko was awake and conscious to feel it? He wasn’t sure, but as Jaspinky taught him…it wasn’t too late to start.

“Who cares what anyone says? You guys are always gonna be royalty to me,” Yakko declared.

Wakko closed his eyes and almost melted right there, and Yakko had to set him down carefully since the kid’s body composition seemed to be made out of shifting sand with all the physical contact. Brainladdin carefully climbed down Yakko’s arm and tried not to tear up again at his words.

Just as Brainladdin’s feet touched the ground, there was a furious scream from the door on the far side of the room.

“The Sultan-CEO is just…AHHHHHHH!” Dot shouted as she stomped across the tiled floor and slumped against the balcony railing, her head smacking against the metal bars. Her brothers threw their arms around her instantly, and her ire diminished, though she was still wracked with tension.

Jaspinky trailed behind her, his shoulders and tail drooping, the golden band around his tail making sad tap-tap-tap noises.

Shoot. He was still crying.

“I’m sorry, Brainladdin.” Jaspinky twisted his tail between his hands. “Sultan-CEO-Mom’s still awfully mad. Some dictator from the kingdom of Dunlikus was supposed to meet with her but got caught in a whirlywind from Snowballjafar’s evil magic. She wouldn’t listen to us. But…Dot tried to convince her about you. She really did.”

“I believe you, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin quietly said as he patted Jaspinky’s back. Jaspinky sniffed once, twice, then intertwined his tail with Brainladdin’s. While Brainladdin’s tail was crooked and stiff from the amount of times he’d been roughly grabbed while stealing, Jaspinky’s was smooth and unblemished. “Did she say anything to Dot in particular?”

It was rather interesting to watch Jaspinky’s tail flow with every unrestrained emotion. Yet it also served as a reminder of their very different social statuses.

Jaspinky nodded sadly. “She said Dot doesn’t have any good ideas cause she’s just a kid who doesn’t know how the real world works. But then…neither of us have really seen the world outside the palace. The magic carpet ride was my first time, and it really was a magical wonderful memory I’ll treasure forever. But Dot-well, how do we know how the world works if we’re stuck here?”

For all his oddities, Jaspinky could ask the most profound questions.

“You won’t.”

But Jaspinky couldn’t live in the city either. Brainladdin didn’t want Jaspinky’s kindred spirit snuffed out by the cynicism and roughness of the streets.

Jaspinky winced, hurt shining in his blue eyes. Realizing his reply came out blunter than he intended, Brainladdin rubbed a circle into Jaspinky’s hand in a silent apology. Jaspinky lifted Brainladdin’s fez and planted a kiss on top of his head, then made a show of adjusting the fez.

Brainladdin took Jaspinky by the hand and led him to the siblings. He wondered how exactly he’d come to have more physical contact in the past day than what he’d given and received in years. Truth be told, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating change. But it would also be tinged with bittersweet.

After Jaspinky, he doubted he’d be able to ever touch anyone like this ever again.

“It’s okay-“ Yakko tried, hands held out to placate Dot.

“No, it’s not!”

Wakko was silent, but he was the first to spot Brainladdin and Jaspinky joining them. He gently turned Dot so that she was no longer glaring daggers into the buildings of ACMEbah. The fur around her eyes was damp with tears.

Jaspinky climbed up the skirt of Dot’s pink and white dress and perched on her shoulder, humming comfort into her ear. Dot stroked his head with her finger, and his foot kicked rapidly. She gave a tiny laugh.

Which was excellent, because Brainladdin was rather weary of all the crying. “Jaspinky explained what happened with the Sultan-CEO,” he said. “Though it didn’t have the results you wanted, we’d like to commend your effort regardless.”

“What Brainladdin said!” Jaspinky chirped. “Remember that mean ol’ Chance O’ Ler from Turkey? He was so scared of Sultan-CEO-Mom that his pants changed colors! But you didn’t even flinch in front of her!”

“Hey, how come nobody invited me to witness all this?” Yakko pouted, holding up a dramatic Greek mask with an exaggerated frown. “I would’ve drawn pictures of that moment, you know! I’m getting really good with my sketches!”

He snapped his fingers, and five large scrolls materialized, each containing a drawing of everyone in their group. Brainladdin thought it was a surprisingly accurate representation of himself…

…except his hands resembled a lump with misshapen sausages for fingers attached.

It was the most glaring flaw in all the other scrolls too.

“Are those chain-link sausages?” Wakko asked, pointing to his own sketch. Brainladdin was just glad he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“I like them!” Jaspinky said, wiggling his own fingers.

“It was mostly proportionate. But the hands leave a lot to be desired,” Brainladdin added.

Dot only covered her mouth and ducked her head.

Yakko shrugged, the scrolls disappearing. “Private tutors and art references are hard to come by when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Then Dot burst into laughter, Jaspinky chortling alongside her as her shoulders rapidly bounced up and down. She lightly struck the railing with her fist multiple times. There were tears again, but they came from joy rather than sadness.

“Those—ha! I can’t—Yakko, you really captured my good side…but oh my gosh-“ Dot could barely speak between breaths, a huge smile breaking out on her face.

Yakko winked at her. “Figured that would snap you outta it.”

Dot just hugged him back, and Yakko let out another ‘oomph’ as tiny yet strong arms encircled him. “Geez, what do you mice feed these kids?” he wheezed.

Jaspinky stood up, dusting his clothes off and trying a small test jump. “Zort! Brainladdin, catch me!”

A mass of fur, clothing, and narf crashed into Brainladdin, knocking him to the ground with no chance to prepare. He spat out a tassel from Jaspinky’s sleeve. The princess was way too cheerful about his impromptu belly flop.

Then Jaspinky sprang back up, helping Brainladdin to his feet as well. “Dot, I’m really happy to be your friend,” Jaspinky said. “But if Yakko doesn’t mind, I think it would be amazingly fun and wonderful if you could see the world for yourself.”

“Course I don’t mind!” Yakko exclaimed as he threw Dot into the air and caught her. “I’ll have to redo my travel itinerary, but it’ll be more fun that way! If I put Tahiti before Pennsylvania, we can go snorkeling with dolphins on a nice sunny Friday, no hold on a sec, China should be first cause it’s been way too long since I’ve had dumplings, and Greece can-“

“YAKKO, HOLD ON A SEC!” Dot shouted just as Yakko prepared to throw her again. She dangled somewhat precariously next to Yakko’s legs, but she didn’t seem to mind her position all that much.

It surprised Brainladdin that Yakko was willing to accept a new responsibility so readily, and he caught the wistful look on Wakko’s face when Yakko happily declared he’d love company on his trip, but he knew Wakko wouldn’t accept. From Dot’s forlorn expression as she glanced at Jaspinky, she wouldn’t take her chance either.

ACMEbah had a way of robbing everyone of a happy childhood. It appeared sadly common to every social class.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, not even princesses,” Dot growled. “And I’m not leaving you to the tender mercies of the Sultan-CEO or anyone who just wants a pretty face with money, Jaspinky.”

But Jaspinky shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about me though. Cause I’ll live in the city with Brainladdin and Wakko. So I won’t be alone!”

What? That is possibly the least reassuring thing you could’ve said right now, idiot!

Dot’s expression turned stormy. She was thinking along the same lines too.

“Did-did I say something wrong?” Jaspinky’s ears drooped. “I can do some good in the city. I-I never knew things were so bad. And I wanna help.”

“Put that fluff between your ears to use and think, Jaspinky!” Brainladdin snapped. Jaspinky’s mouth quivered. Brainladdin took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before clasping Jaspinky’s hands between his own. “I…I’m sorry. For my outburst. But remind yourself of our first meeting in the marketplace. You meant well when you took the apple off the fruit stand and gave it to Wakko, but you barely understood the concepts of money and payment, and you completely froze when the shopkeeper barbarically tried to chop off your hand.”

“You saved me though,” Jaspinky said.

“Yes, but if the shopkeeper had been faster with his sword? If I was too far to help you? And your lack of a disguise was another issue. You waltzed into the marketplace with all your finery and no protection. Someone would notice eventually. The best case scenario? Your clothes and jewelry would’ve been stolen, but that’s all. And if someone chose to kidnap you for ransom or worse, the palace and royal guards would’ve been in an uproar. If that hypothetical situation came to pass, guess which group would be suspected first.”

“N-no,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean-“

“I know why you did though. You weren’t malicious, just naïve. There’s nothing to apologize for or forgive.” Brainladdin pulled Jaspinky’s head down until their cheeks touched. Jaspinky’s fur was a different sort of warm, not blistering hot like the desert sun, but more of a soft ray of light.

The princess had walked among the commoners for the same reason Brainladdin had disguised himself as a prince. Because he’d felt trapped by a societal role and just wanted to be free.

“Brainladdin?” Jaspinky’s voice was oddly distant.

“If you leave the safety of the palace—if they realize you’ve taken the lifestyle of a common street rat—they’ll hate you. Nobody will see you. But you’ll be blamed. For things you didn’t do…or just for trying to survive. And you’ll lose your good heart, Jaspinky. I can’t even protect Wakko from the consequences. But he’s already figured out some of it. So please…don’t…l-leave…”

Don’t leave the palace…don’t leave me…

Wakko’s hand rested against Brainladdin’s back. The child was always too generous for his own good. It was a quality that Brainladdin couldn’t bring himself to force Wakko to lose, as much as it was a detriment to his survival.

Brainladdin’s vision blurred, and he felt water leak out of his eyes against his will. He was going to die of dehydration at this rate. Jaspinky nuzzled his cheek, humming a meaningless tune into his ear.

The magic carpet ride had been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of his life. Soft fabric beneath them, close quarters necessitating physical contact, a navy starlit sky above. Being weightless, being free from the worry of scavenging for scraps or taking over ACMEbah, being able to see the wonder in Jaspinky’s eyes as he touched a cloud for the first time…

They weren’t Brainladdin the street rat and Princess Jaspinky in the sky. No, there were no statuses to worry about, no pressures to conform to.

Jaspinky petting a wild horse as it galloped across the land. The stars twinkling in Jaspinky’s eyes. His excitement when he experienced something he’d never seen or done before.

Yet it would be nothing more than a wistful memory.

“They’re still trapped, you know. There’s gotta be something we can do,” a quiet voice said.

Wakko.

“Jaspinky. Brainladdin. You guys really love each other, don’t you?” Dot asked.

Brainladdin wiped his tears on his vest, not caring that it was one of the few pieces of clothing he owned. He looked up at Dot, who was seated on Yakko’s shoulders.

She’d been nothing more than an irritating obstacle when he tried to woo Jaspinky. But if it weren’t for her presence, Jaspinky likely would’ve been married to someone he didn’t love.

He really couldn’t fault her for hating the made-up Prince Brainli.

“He’s my world,” Brainladdin whispered, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He gave Jaspinky a tiny nuzzle, and Jaspinky’s tail intertwined with his own once again.

“And mine too,” Jaspinky agreed.

Dot watched them for just a moment longer. Then her back straightened, her head tilting proudly. Her foot tapped against Yakko’s chest.

“As someone who’s secretly observed the Sultan-CEO’s political meetings and learned the do’s and don’ts of palace business, I’m the most qualified one here for the position of temporary Sultan-CEO,” she declared. “Yakko. A scroll and quill, if you please.”

Yakko grinned, and the requested items appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you,” Dot said with a firm nod.

Brainladdin glanced at Jaspinky and Wakko, but they seemed just as confused as he was. He wasn’t sure if one could just declare themselves Sultan-CEO. That wasn’t really how it worked.

“I, acting Sultan-CEO Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third, also known as Dot, hereby decree that the Royal Marriage Law of 1175 is null and void, and from this day forth, the princess of ACMEbah shall marry whoever they deem worthy.”

The quill jotted Dot’s decree word for word on the scroll, every letter emblazoned with a golden shine.

“Now for the seal of approval!” Dot shouted.

Another flash of magic transformed Wakko into a black and white seal, the scroll was brought down to his nose level, and he gave the paper a large, slobbery lick. Then he clapped, his flippers beating together as Yakko tossed several fish fillets into his mouth.

Then the scroll disappeared, and Wakko transformed back, white bits of fish still coating his mouth.

“This new decree is non-negotiable and binding,” Yakko said. “And I’ve also taken the liberty of framing, enlarging, and sticking it in a palace hallway our dear power-hungry Sultan-CEO frequents. She won’t be able to remove it no matter how hard she tries.”

As if on cue, there was a distant horrified scream that practically blew one of the domed roofs of the palace off.

What just happened? She can really do that?

Jaspinky squealed in glee, right next to Brainladdin’s ear. He barely had time to rub the sensitive hairs before Jaspinky lifted him into the air and spun him around so fast that he saw more stars than the sun in broad daylight. And they were absolutely beautiful.

“I choose you, Brainladdin!” Jaspinky exclaimed. His laughter was like a melody, Brainladdin losing himself in the music, and he was probably grinning like a fool too but he no longer cared about that because he could be with Jaspinky, and there was an entire world for them and them alone!

Brainladdin clung to Jaspinky’s shoulders, steadying himself as Jaspinky set him down again. He brushed Pinky’s jewelry out of the way, and Jaspinky pressed his forehead against his own.

“Call me Brain,” Brainladdin murmured, and he held Jaspinky close.

They were no longer trapped. They were free. They could be together.

His heart quickened, and it was an exhilarating feeling indeed.

“Alright, everyone into the group hug!” Yakko shouted, and a giant hand scooped them up. Brainladdin was instantly sandwiched between Jaspinky and Wakko, Dot squeezing herself into the crook of Yakko’s arm on Jaspinky’s opposite side. It was getting hard to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the force of Yakko’s hug or a side effect of the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Now that we’re all done baring our souls.”

“Thank you, Dot!” Jaspinky exclaimed, hugging the girl’s cheek. “Thankyousomuch! And now that I’ve got Brainladdin staying with me, you should go with Yakko! No ifs or buts, young lady!”

Dot smirked. “You just wanna get rid of me so you can do stuff with Brainladdin.” There was something sneaky in her voice that Brainladdin heavily disliked. “But I’ll gladly take this vacation.”

“I could never get rid of you, Dot! You’re my best handmaiden!” Jaspinky protested.

“Simmer, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin said, and the princess relaxed. “She’s only teasing. That being said, I highly detest her tone.”

He gave Dot a pointed glare, and she casually placed her elbow against Yakko’s arm. “You’re not a complete jerk, but if I were as bigheaded as you, I’d avoid most of the rooms on the southern side. I still haven’t disabled the booby trapped perfume bottles that spray catfish guts yet. You’ll be mostly safe on the east side though.”

“And you’re not a complete brat. Just an annoyingly clever one,” he muttered.

Dot looked all too pleased with herself.

At least he’d finally confirmed who rigged that perfume bottle on his second night as Prince Brainli in the palace.

“Perfect!” Yakko exclaimed, and confetti showered down on everyone. “So any particular places in mind? A change of scenery would do you some good!”

“Burbank. Machu Picchu. Rome,” Dot said. “I’ll come up with more later. You got any ideas, Wakko?”

Wakko shook his head, only staring at the ground far below them.

“Wakko? Wakster? Wakaroo?” Yakko frowned, gently shaking Wakko, who only went limp. “C’mon, we know you’ve got places you wanna visit. Mostly for the exotic food, right?”

“Sorry. I’d love to go, but-“ Wakko’s face fell.

This wasn’t like before, where Brainladdin refused to let Wakko venture outside ACMEbah. Now neither of them would be alone in this world.

“Look at me, Wakko.” Brainladdin held onto one of Wakko’s fingers with both hands, and the boy obeyed. “As the soon-to-be ruler of ACMEbah, I will be living in the palace with Jaspinky. There’s no more need for concern. And you have a somewhat responsible brother and an irritatingly capable sister who will always have your back. Your new objective is to explore the world for yourself, and if you try to send money back or work yourself to the bone, I shall have to ground you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wakko snatched him up for an enormous hug. Brainladdin gasped for air, fairly certain one lung was punctured and his left kidney had been knocked out of place from the tight squeeze.

“Oxygen!” he wheezed. Wakko relented and returned him to Jaspinky, who was more of a white and blue blur than a mouse right now.

“Faboo, Dad!” Wakko exclaimed, much to Yakko and Dot’s joy.

“Yes, faboo indeed,” Brainladdin muttered, a dizzy spell from the lack of oxygen overtaking him. He slumped against Jaspinky. “I expect a letter every night, Wakko.”

If Wakko replied, his voice was lost in Yakko and Dot’s chatter over their travel plans. Brainladdin and Jaspinky were deposited on the balcony, Brainladdin finally recovering his vision so he could see the siblings off.

“Bye-bye! Bring back souvenirs! Troz!” Jaspinky shouted, his jewelry jingling as he waved goodbye to the siblings.

“Farewell for now,” Brainladdin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Best to act like he was ruling ACMEbah after all. He tried not to squeeze too tightly, if only to stop the slight ache in his chest from all this emotional nonsense.

“You heard them! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Yakko shouted, and he shot into the sky like a firework with Wakko and Dot in his arms. The two screamed in delight, their laughter echoing off the buildings of ACMEbah. “Let’s give the lovebirds some space!”

“We’re history!” Dot yelled.

“We’re mythology!” Wakko added.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT WE ARE! WE’RE FREE!”

In a shower of magic, they shot across the sky and were gone, off to tour the world to celebrate their new lives.

Jaspinky waved to the sky for a moment longer, then turned to Brainladdin, that stupid, silly, wonderful smile on his face. “I’ve got sweetcakes and tea in the kitchen. Do you want any?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jaspinky.”

They headed to the kitchen, walking hand-in-hand, never to be separated again.

o-o-o-o-o

Colorful fireworks burst around them, lighting up the night sky in flares of red and green and blue. The stars shone from above, the earth and all its worries far beneath them. A breeze tugged them along, the magic carpet pulling this way and that with no clear destination in mind. But they didn’t need one.

Whichever way the winds blow, as they say.

“Look, Brainladdin! Another letter!” Jaspinky pointed to a paper drifting towards them, protected by a cloud of Yakko’s magic. He leaned over the side in his excitement to grab it out of the air. Brainladdin kept hold of Jaspinky’s tail just in case, though the magic carpet was sentient enough to lift that side up to prevent accidental falls. The letter floated into Pinky’s hand, and he scrambled back to Brainladdin, showing off the letter proudly. “It’s a J! Wakko’s very good with oregano. I wish he’d teach me!”

He really should’ve been more clear with his expectations for Wakko.

“That’s a Y, Jaspinky. And oregano is a spice. This is the paper craft known as origami.” Brainladdin tucked the Y inside the folds of his royal robe for safekeeping. It would go nicely with the W and D that were already on his nightstand.

“Oh. Well then, it’s a very nice Y!”

“Yes, it’s constructed well.”

Another firework flared, and Jaspinky oohed and awwed at the wondrous sight, his eyes ever an innocent, pretty blue. He’d picked a new outfit for tonight: a purple crop top with matching pants and headband, a see through, puffy material that framed his bare shoulders wonderfully, and golden earrings.

The fireworks paled in comparison.

Jaspinky gasped in awe. “Look, Brainladdin! A shooting star! What’d you wish for?”

Brainladdin glanced at the canopy above, where a meteor shower zipped through the upper atmosphere. “You first.”

“Narf! Alright. I wished for a world where we can all be happy! Your turn!”

Sentimental, yet thoughtful. Of course.

“I wish…for our lives to be fulfilling.”

Jaspinky smiled. “Looks like our wishes came true then.”

“An astute observation,” Brainladdin said.

Jaspinky kissed him, and warmth flooded through Brainladdin’s body. They soared into the starry horizon, the full moon shining from afar. A new world awaited them.

AN: This…uh…this is way longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoyed this story. This is my first time writing the Warner siblings, so I combined some of the posts Deez-art made about this AU for my characterization of them. I apologize if they were out of character, but I did have fun with them. Especially Dot. For some reason her dialogue is just fun to write.

Also, Brain angsts too easily. That’s why this story is almost 7000 words.

Some of the dialogue comes directly from the 1992 Aladdin movie.

I HAVE LISTENED TO A WHOLE NEW WORLD HOW MANY TIMES FOR THIS STORY. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS EITHER. I NEED NEW LOVE SONGS.

As for why this story is published on AO3 instead of FFN, it’s just easier to tag this sort of thing there.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #brainladdin au #patb fanfiction

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thefudge · 3 years

Note

I know you like darklina more but what are your thoughts on malina ? I’m just asking bc I like hearing your thoughts and every ship seems 10x sexier after you talk about it and I love that esp bc as of this season malina is still pretty wholesome 😩. Any ideas for how you would’ve handled it/handle it in s2 ? Headcanons ? comments ? lol idk feel free to ignore tho if it’s not your cup of tea

“every ship seems 10x sexier after you talk about it” omg i feel so ACCOMPLISHED thank u!

as for the ships: so, the funny thing is, i don’t like one more than the other? i don’t like either? lol, okay, i like BOTH. but i don’t *love* them, you know what i mean? so, show!malina is definitely streets ahead of book!malina and i found myself enjoying them quite a bit (more on them later), but i can’t say i’m 100% convinced yet. same thing with darklina. i liked it fine in the books, and i like it fine on the show too, but it didn’t totally grab me. while i really liked alina initiating many of their interactions, i felt that the darkling didn’t...do much lol. i mean, they got ben barnes, so why not use him! and this isn’t to say he didn’t deliver, he was just given way less to do imo. i think there should’ve been more *ambiguous* scenes between him and alina, where the seduction and corruption felt a bit more layered. when baghra busts in to tell alina about the darkling’s manipulations i was like “but...did he even get to do that much manipulating??? there wasn’t any time!” cuz this all stems from the pacing issue that i’ve spoken about in other posts. alina’s time at the little palace should’ve been way more substantial. like, you blink and she’s already at the winter fete. so yeah, wish they’d done more with that.

ok but back to malina. i really enjoyed their banter, first of all, because it was such a breath of fresh air to frame them like the kind of friends who like to pull each other’s leg, who don’t take each other so seriously. book!malina always felt like such a drag because they didn’t actually seem to have fun together, whereas it’s far more believable when show!mal talks about going gambling in ketterdam and alina cheekily replies, “without me?” it just works way better. their bond was also very palpable and those childhood flashbacks were just so darn cute, without being manipulative. i felt so many things for little mal!

the problem was, towards the end of the season i was kind of...underwhelmed, because it started to feel like mal’s sole function is to protect alina. in the first half of the show, he had his own friends, his own aspirations, his distinct personality. but once he reunites with alina and they’re on the “run”, it’s like...yeah, his whole life now will revolve around keeping her safe, which is what also bothered me in the book.

however, i do love the quiet yearning they both feel but are too afraid to express physically, cuz that creates some great tension going forward. i really like that they didn’t include a first kiss or anything like that this season. i like the slowburn between them and i hope they don’t rush it. what i would’ve wanted was a bit more conflict after they reunited. i’d also like to see a bit of conflict between them in season 2 regarding her powers. and... i’d like a bit of trashiness where he’s almost afraid to be touched by her, because he doesn’t yet know what he is (spoiler for the books) or why he reacts to her so strongly. like, imagine them lying in bed fully-dressed, facing each other, and alina reaches out with her hand to touch his face and she barely skims his cheek before he draws away sharply because he feels this strange hunger and compulsion to pull her to him and he’s afraid of it, whereas she thinks he’s drawing away from her because he doesn’t want her that way, and u get that good draaaaamaaaa and tension.

anyway, that’s what i’d like to see! more thoughtful trash all around. and more darklina trash too (like, the darklina moments on the boat in ep 8 were closer to what i wanted, but it was too little too late)

#replies #sab spoilers #idk if i should tag the ships cuz i dont want drama i'm a multishipper yall #sab

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96harmony96 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7

I don’t remember much of what happened after we arrived. Camera flashes burst around us like fireworks as we walked the length of the press gauntlet, but I scarcely paid them any mind, smiling by rote. I was drawn into myself and desperate to get away from the tension radiating in waves from Lauren.

The moment we crossed over into the building, someone called her name and she turned. I slipped away, darting around the rest of the guests clogging the carpeted entrance.

When I reached the reception hall, I snatched two glasses of champagne from a passing server and searched for Cary as I tossed one back. I spotted him on the far side of the room with my mom and Stanton, and I crossed to them, discarding my empty glass on a table as I passed it.

“Camila!” My mother’s face lit up when she saw me. “That dress is stunning on you!”

She air-kissed each of my cheeks. She was gorgeous in a shimmering, fitted column of icy blue. Sapphires dripped from her ears, throat, and wrist, highlighting her eyes and her pale skin.

“Thank you.” I took a gulp of champagne from my second glass, remembering that I’d planned on expressing gratitude for the dress. While I still appreciated the gift, I was no longer so happy about the convenient thigh slit.

Cary stepped forward, catching my elbow. One look at my face and he knew I was upset. I shook my head, not wanting to get into it now.

“More champagne, then?” he asked softly.

“Please.”

I felt Lauren approaching before I saw my mother’s face light up like the New Year’s ball in Times Square. Stanton, too, seemed to straighten and gather himself.

“Camila.” Lauren set her hand on the bare skin of my lower back and a shock of awareness moved through me. When her fingers flexed against me, I wondered if she felt it, too. “You ran off.”

I stiffened against the reproof I heard in her tone. I shot her a look that said everything I couldn’t while we were in public. “Richard, have you met LaurenJauregui?”

“Yes, of course.” The two shook hands.

Lauren pulled me closer to her side. “We share the good fortune of escorting the two most beautiful women in New York.”

Stanton agreed, smiling indulgently down at my mother.

I tossed back the rest of my champagne and gratefully exchanged the empty glass for the fresh one Cary handed me. There was a slight warmth growing in my belly from the alcohol and it loosened the knot that had formed there.

Lauren leaned over and whispered harshly, “Don’t forget you’re here with me.”

SHe was mad? What the hell? My gaze narrowed. “You’re one to talk.”

“Not here, Camila.” sHe nodded at everyone and led me away. “Not now.”

“Not ever,” I muttered, going along with her just to spare my mother a scene.

Sipping my champagne, I slid into an autopilot mode of self-preservation I hadn’t had to use in many years. Lauren fintroduced me to people and I supposed I performed well enough—spoke at the appropriate moments and smiled when necessary—but I wasn’t really paying attention. I was too conscious of the icy wall between us and my own hurt anger. If I’d needed any proof that Lauren was rigid about not socializing with women she slept with, I had it.

When dinner was announced, I went with her into the dining room and poked at my food. I drank a few glasses of the red wine they served with the meal and heard Lauren talking to our tablemates, although I didn’t pay attention to the words, only to the cadence and the seductively deep, even tone. SHe made no attempt to draw me into the conversation and I was glad. I didn’t think I could say anything nice.

I didn’t become engaged until she stood to a round of applause and took the stage. Then I turned in my seat and watched her cross to the podium, unable to help admiring her animal grace and stunning good looks. Every step she took commanded attention and respect, which was a feat, considering her easy and unhurried stride.

She looked none the worse for wear after our abandoned fucking in her limo. In fact, she seemed like a totally different person. SHe was once again the woman I’d met in the Crossfire lobby, supremely contained and quietly powerful.

“In North America,” she began, “childhood sexual abuse is experienced by one in every four women and one in every six men. Take a good look around you. Someone at your table is either a survivor or knows someone who is. That’s the unacceptable truth.”

I was riveted. Lauren was a consummate orator, her vibrant baritone mesmerizing. But it was the topic, which hit so close to home, and her passionate and sometimes shocking way of discussing it, that moved me. I began to thaw, my bewildered fury and damaged self-confidence subverted by wonder. My view of her shifted, altering as I became simply another individual in a rapt audience. SHe wasn’t the man who’d so recently hurt my feelings; she was just a skilled speaker discussing a subject that was deeply important to me.

When she finished, I stood and applauded, catching both her and myself by surprise. But others quickly joined me in the standing ovation and I heard the buzz of conversations around me, the quietly voiced compliments that were well deserved.

“You’re a fortunate young lady.”

I turned to look at the woman who spoke, a lovely redhead who appeared to be in her early forties. “We’re just…friends.”

Her serene smile somehow managed to argue with me.

People began stepping away from their tables. I was about to grab my clutch so I could leave for home when a young man came up to me. His wayward auburn hair inspired instant envy and his eyes of grayish-green were soft and friendly. Handsome and sporting a boyish grin, he lured the first genuine smile out of me since the ride over in the limousine.

“Hello there,” he said.

He seemed to know who I was, which put me in the awkward position of pretending I wasn’t clueless as to who he was. “Hello.”

He laughed, and the sound was light and charming. “I’m Christopher Vidal, Lauren’s brother.”

“Oh, of course.” My face heated. I couldn’t believe I’d been so lost in my own pity party that I hadn’t made the connection at once.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m sorry.” I offered a sheepish smile. “Not sure how to say I read an article about you without sounding awkward.”

He laughed. “I’m flattered you remembered it. Just don’t tell me it was in Page Six.”

The gossip column was notorious for getting the goods on New York celebrities and socialites. “No,” I said quickly. “Rolling Stone, maybe?”

“I can live with that.” He extended his arm to me. “Would you like to dance?”

I glanced over to where Lauren was standing at the foot of the stairs that led to the stage. SHe was surrounded by people eager to talk to her, many of whom were women.

“You can see she’ll be awhile,” Christopher said, with a note of amusement.

“Yes.” I was about to look away when I recognized the woman standing next to Lauren—Magdalene Perez.

I picked up my clutch and managed a smile for Christopher. “I’d love to dance.”

Arm-in-arm we headed into the ballroom and stepped onto the dance floor. The band began the first strains of a waltz and we moved easily, naturally into the music. He was a skilled dancer, agile and confident in his lead.

“So, how do you know Lauren?”

“I don’t.” I nodded at Cary when he glided by with a statuesque blonde. “I work in the Crossfire and we’ve run into each other once or twice.”

“You work for her?”

“No. I’m an assistant at Waters Field and Leaman.”

“Ah.” He grinned. “Ad agency.”

“Yes.”

“Lauren must really be into you to go from meeting you once or twice to dragging you out on a date like this.”

I cursed inwardly. I’d known assumptions would be made, but I wanted more than ever to avoid further humiliation. “Lauren’s acquainted with my mother and she’d already arranged for me to come, so it’s just a matter of two people going to the same event in one car rather than two.”

“So you’re available?”

I took a deep breath, feeling uncomfortable despite how fluidly we moved together. “Well, I’m not taken.”

Christopher flashed his charismatic boyish grin. “My night just took a turn for the better.”

He filled the rest of the dance with amusing anecdotes about the music industry that made me laugh and took my mind off lauren.

When the dance ended, Cary was there to take the next one. We danced very well as a couple because we’d taken lessons together. I relaxed into his hold, grateful to have him as moral support.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked him.

“I pinched myself during dinner when I realized I was sitting next to the top coordinator for Fashion Week. And she flirted with me!” He smiled, but his eyes were haunted. “Whenever I find myself in places like this…dressed like this…I can’t believe it. You saved my life, Camila. Then you changed it completely.”

“You save my sanity all the time. Trust me, we’re even.”

His hand tightened on mine, his gaze hardening. “You look miserable. How’d she fuck up?”

“I think I did that. We’ll talk about it later.”

“You’re afraid I’ll kick her ass here in front of everyone.”

I sighed. “I’d rather you didn’t, for my mom’s sake.”

Cary pressed his lips briefly to my forehead. “I warned her earlier. SHe knows it’s coming.”

“Oh, Cary.” Love for him tightened my throat even as reluctant amusement curved my lips. I should’ve known Cary would give Lauren a big brother threat of some sort. That was just so like him.

Lauren appeared beside us. “I’m cutting in.”

It wasn’t a request.

Cary stopped and looked at me. I nodded. He backed away with a bow, his gaze hot and fierce on Lauren’s face.

Lauren pulled me close and took over the dance the way she took over everything—with dominant confidence. It was an entirely different experience dancing with her than with my two previous partners. Lauren had both the expertise of her brother and Cary’s familiarity with the way my body moved, but Lauren had a bold, aggressive style that was inherently sexual.

It didn’t help that being so close to a woman I’d so recently been intimate with seduced my senses despite my unhappiness. SHe smelled scrumptious, with undertones of sex, and the way she led me through the bold sweeping steps made me feel the soreness deep inside me, reminding me that she’d been there not long ago.

“You keep running off,” she muttered, scowling down at me.

“Seemed like Magdalene picked up the slack quick enough.”

Her brow arched and she drew me closer. “Jealous?”

“Seriously?” I looked away.

SHe made a frustrated noise. “Stay away from my brother, Camila.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

My temper ignited, which felt good after all the self-recrimination and doubts I’d been drowning in since we’d screwed like feral bunnies. I decided to see if turnabout was fair play in Lauren Jauregui’s world. “Stay away from Magdalene, Lauren.”

Her jaw tightened. “She’s just a friend.”

“Meaning you haven’t slept with her…? Yet.”

“No, damn it. And I don’t want to. Listen—” The music wound down and she slowed. “I have to go. I brought you here, and I would prefer to be the one who takes you home, but I don’t want to pull you away if you’re enjoying yourself. Would you rather stick around and go home with Stanton and your mother?”

Enjoying myself? Was she kidding or clueless? Or worse. Maybe she’d written me off so completely that she wasn’t paying attention to me at all.

I pushed away from her, needing the distance. Her scent was messing with my head. “I’ll be fine. Forget about me.”

“Camila.” SHe reached for me and I stepped back quickly.

An arm came around my back and Cary spoke. “I’ve got her, Jauregui.”

“Don’t get in my way, Taylor,” Lauren warned.

Cary snorted. “I get the impression you’re doing a smokin’ job of that all by yourself.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “You gave a wonderful speech, Lauren. It was the highlight of my evening.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at the implied insult; then shoved a hand through her hair. Abruptly, she cursed and I realized why when ahe pulled her vibrating phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen.

“I have to go.” Her gaze caught mine and held it. Her fingertips drifted over my cheek. “I’ll call you.”

And then she was gone.

“Do you want to stay?” Cary asked quietly.

“No.”

“I’ll take you home, then.”

“No, don’t.” I wanted to be alone for a bit. Soak in a hot bath with a bottle of cool wine and pull myself out of my funk. “You should be here. It could be good for your career. We can talk when you get home. Or tomorrow. I’m going the couch potato route all day.”

His gaze darted over my face, searching. “You sure?”

I nodded.

“All right.” But he looked unconvinced.

“If you could go out and ask a valet to have Stanton’s limo brought around, I’ll run to the ladies’ room real quick.”

“Okay.” Cary ran his hand down my arm. “I’ll get your shawl from the coatroom and see you out front.”

It took longer to get to the restroom than it should have. For one, a surprising number of people stopped me for small talk, which had to be because I was Lauren Jauregui's date. And two, I avoided the nearest ladies’ room, which had a steady flow of women pouring in and out of it, and I found one located farther away. I locked myself in a stall and took a few moments longer to finish my business than absolutely required. There was no one else in the room besides the attendant, so there was no one to rush me.

I was so hurt by Lauren it was hard to breathe and I was so confused by her mood swings. Why had she touched my face like that? Why had she gotten mad when I didn’t stay by her side? And why the hell had she threatened Cary? Lauren gave new meaning to the old adage about “running hot and cold.”

Closing my eyes, I shored up my composure. Jesus. I didn’t need this.

I’d bared my emotions in the limo and I still felt horribly vulnerable—a state I’d spent countless therapy hours learning to avoid. I wanted nothing more than to be home and hidden, freed from the pressure of acting like I was completely pulled together when I was anything but.

You set yourself up for this, I reminded myself. Suck it up.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out and was resigned to finding Magdalene leaning against the vanity with her arms crossed. She was clearly there for me, lying in wait at a time when my defenses were already weak. My step faltered; then I recovered and made my way to the sink to wash my hands.

She turned to face the mirror, studying my reflection. I studied her, too. She was even more gorgeous in person than she’d been in her photos. Tall and slender, with big dark eyes and a cascade of straight blonde

hair. Her lips were lush and red, her cheekbones high and sculpted. Her dress was modestly sexy, a flowing sheath of creamy satin that contrasted beautifully with her olive skin. She looked like a fucking supermodel and exuded an exotic sex appeal.

I accepted the hand towel the bathroom attendant handed me, and Magdalene spoke to the woman in Spanish, asking her to give us some privacy. I capped the request with, “Por favor, gracias.” That earned me an arched brow from Magdalene and a closer examination, which I returned with equal coolness.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured, the moment the attendant stepped out of earshot. She made a tsking noise that scraped over my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. “You’ve fucked her already.”

“And you haven’t.”

That seemed to surprise her. “You’re right, I haven’t. You know why?”

I pulled a five-spot out of my clutch and dropped it in the silver tip tray. “Because she doesn’t want to.”

“And I don’t want to either, because she can’t commit. She’s young, gorgeous, rich, and she’s enjoying it.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “She certainly did.”

Her gaze narrowed, her pleasant expression slipping slightly. “She doesn’t respect the women she fucks. The minute she shoved her dick in you, you were done. Just like all the others. But I’m still here, because I’m the one she wants to keep around for the long haul.”

I maintained my cool even though the blow had been a perfect hit right where the most damage could be done. “That’s pathetic.”

I walked out and didn’t stop until I reached Stanton’s limousine. Squeezing Cary’s hand as I got in, I managed to wait until the car pulled away from the curb to start crying.

____

“Hey, baby girl,” Cary called out when I shuffled into the living room the next morning. Dressed in nothing but a loose pair of old sweats, he was stretched out on the couch with his feet crossed and propped on the coffee table. He looked beautifully disheveled and comfortable in his own skin. “How’d you sleep?”

I gave him the thumbs-up and headed into the kitchen for coffee. I paused by the breakfast bar, my brows lifting at the massive arrangement of red roses on the counter. The fragrance was divine and I inhaled it with a deep breath. “What’s this?”

“They came for you about an hour ago. A Sunday delivery. Pretty and super pricey.”

I plucked the card off the clear plastic stake and opened it.

“I’m still thinking about you.

Lauren”

“From Jauregui?” Cary asked.

“Yes.” My thumb brushed over what I assumed was her handwriting. It was bold and masculine and sexy. A romantic gesture for a girl who didn’t have romance in her repertoire. I dropped the card on the counter as if it’d burned me and fetched a mug of coffee, praying caffeine would give me strength and restore my common sense.

“You don’t seem impressed.” He lowered the volume on the football game he was watching.

“SHe’s bad news for me. SHe’s like one giant trigger. I just need to stay away from her.” Cary had been through therapy with me and he knew the drill. He didn’t look at me funny when I broke things down into therapeutic jargon, and he didn’t have any trouble shooting it back to me the same way.

“The phone’s been ringing all morning, too. I didn’t want it to disturb you, so I shut the volume off.”

Aware of the lingering ache between my legs, I curled up on the couch and fought the compulsion to listen to our voice mail to see if Lauren had called. I wanted to hear her voice, and an explanation that would make sense of what happened last night. “Sounds good to me. Let’s leave it off all day.”

“What happened?”

I blew steam off the top of my mug and took a tentative sip. “I fucked her brains out in her limo and she turned arctic afterward.”

Cary watched me with those worldly emerald eyes, eyes that had seen more than anyone should be subjected to. “Rocked her world, did you?”

“Yeah, I did.” And I got riled up just thinking about it. We’d connected. I knewit. I’d wanted her more than anything last night, and today I wanted nothing to do with her ever again. “It was intense. The best sexual experience of my life, and she was right there with me. I know she was. First time she’d ever made it in a car, and she was kind of resistant at first, but then I got her so hot for it she couldn’t say no.”

“Really? Never?” He ran a hand over his morning stubble. “Most guys scratch car banging off their fuck list in high school. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who didn’t, except for the nerds and fuglies, and she’s neither.”

I shrugged. “I guess car banging makes me a slut.”

Cary grew very still. “Is that what she said?”

“No. sHe didn’t say shit. I got that from her ‘friend,’ Magdalene. You know that chick in most of the photos you printed off the Internet? She decided to sharpen her claws with a little catty girl chat in the bathroom.”

“The bitch is jealous.”

“Sexual frustration. She can’t fuck her, because apparently girls who fuck her go into the discard pile.”

“Did she say that?” Again, fury laced his quiet question.

“Not in so many words. sHe said she doesn’t sleep with her female friends. SHe’s got issues with women wanting more than a good time in the sack, so she keeps the women she bangs and the women she hangs out with in two separate camps.” I took another sip of my coffee. “I warned her that sort of setup wasn’t going to work for me and she said she’d make some adjustments, but I guess she’s one of those people who’ll say whatever’s necessary to get what they wants.”

“Or else you have her running scared.”

I glared. “Don’t make excuses for her. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours, baby girl.” He reached out and patted my knee. “Always yours.”

I wrapped my hand around his muscular forearm and stroked my fingers gently along the underside in silent gratitude. I couldn’t feel the multitude of fine white scars from cutting that marred his skin, but I never forgot they were there. I was thankful every day that he was alive, healthy, and a vital part of my life. “How’d your night go?”

“I can’t complain.” His eyes took on a mischievous glint. “I shagged that busty blonde in a maintenance closet. Her tits were real.”

“Well, then.” I smiled. “You made her night, I’m sure.”

“I try.” He picked up the phone receiver and winked at me. “What kind of delivery do you want? Subs? Chinese? Indian?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry. If you don’t pick something, I’ll cook and you’ll have to eat that.”

I lifted my hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. You pick.”

____

I got to work twenty minutes early on Monday, figuring I’d skip running into Lauren. When I reached my desk without incident, I felt such relief that I knew I was in serious trouble where she was concerned. My moods were shifting all over the place.

Mark arrived in high spirits, still floating from his major successes of the week before, and we dug right into work. I’d done some vodka market comparisons on Sunday and he was kind enough to go over those with me and listen to my impressions. Mark was also assigned the account for a new e-reader manufacturer, so we began the initial work on that.

With such a busy morning, time flew swiftly and I didn’t have time to think about my personal life. I was really grateful for that. Then I answered the phone and heard Lauren on the line. I wasn’t prepared.

“How’s your Monday been so far?” She asked, her voice sending a shiver of awareness through me.

“Hectic.” I glanced at the clock and was startled to see it was twenty minutes to noon.

“Good.” There was a pause. “I tried calling you yesterday. I left a couple messages. I wanted to hear your voice.”

My eyes closed on a deep breath. It had taken every bit of my willpower to make it through the day without listening to the voice mail. I’d even enlisted Cary in the cause, telling him to restrain me forcibly if it looked like I might succumb to the urge. “I did the hermit thing and worked a little.”

“Did you get the flowers I sent?”

“Yes. They’re lovely. Thank you.”

“They reminded me of your dress.”

What the hell was she doing? I was beginning to think she had multiple personality disorder. “Some women might say that’s romantic.”

“I only care what you say.” Her chair creaked as if she’d pushed to her feet. “I thought about stopping by…I wanted to.”

I sighed, surrendering to my confusion. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

There was another long pause. “I deserved that.”

“I didn’t say it to be a bitch. It’s just the truth.”

“I know. Listen…I arranged for lunch up here in my office so we don’t waste any of the hour leaving and getting back.”

After her parting, I’ll call you, I’d wondered if she would want to get together again after she settled down from whatever trip she’d been on. It was a possibility I’d been dreading since Saturday night, aware that I needed to cut her off, but feeling strung out from the desire to be with her. I wanted to experience again that pure, perfect moment of intimacy we’d shared.

But I couldn’t justify that one moment against all the other moments when she made me feel like crap.

“Lauren, we don’t have any reason to have lunch together. We hashed things out Friday night, and we…took care of business Saturday. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Camila.” Her voice turned gruff. “I know I fucked up. Let me explain.”

“You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I need to see you.”

“I don’t want—”

“We can do this the easy way, Camila. Or you can make it difficult.” Her tone took on a hard edge that made my pulse quicken. “Either way, you’ll hear me out.”

I closed my eyes, understanding that I wasn’t lucky enough to get away with a quick good-bye phone chat. “Fine. I’ll come up.”

“Thank you.” She exhaled audibly. “I can’t wait to see you.”

I returned the receiver to its cradle and stared at the photos on my desk, trying to formulate what I needed to say and steeling myself for the impact of seeing Lauren again. The ferocity of my physical response to her was impossible to control. Somehow I’d have to get past it and take care of business. Later, I’d think about having to see her in the building over the days, weeks, and months ahead. For the moment, I just had to focus on making it through lunch.

Yielding to the inevitable, I got back to work comparing the visual impact of some blow-in card samples.

“Camila.”

#camren gip #camren shipper #camren fanfiction #camila and lauren #laurengip #lauren jauregay #lauren and camila #lauren jauregui #camila cabello #smut #Camren smut #Jauregui fire

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sleepylixie · 3 years

Text

The Dreamwalker- Incubus! Hwang Hyunjin

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Fantasy

Beware of: Elements of mental imbalance(crazy behaviour), Elements of smut(only mentions, nothing specific at all.)

A/N: THIS FIC DOES NOT REFLECT THE CHARACTER OR LIKENESS OF THE REAL HWANG HYUNJIN IN ANY FORM OR MANNER. ONTO THE FIC!! I had a power struggle with this one, making the words sound the way I wanted them to ( @aliceu and @rebecca-noona welcome to the cult yet again. Today we’re serving Sex on the beach with a side of Fantasy Fries)

Requests are open for SKZ and BTS! || Masterlist

Ever wondered how wrong a dream could possibly go for it to become a nightmare? One that leaves you unmoving, still as a statue, even in the deepest of sleep? But what if the stillness wasn’t from terror but from.. from desire? Ask the Dreamwalker, he could show you.

Demons couldn’t create, they were ruled by their penchant for destruction- until the first succubus came along, with an entirely different kind of lust.

Lilith. She was a headstrong woman, the kind that was unshaken from her beliefs and gladly stood trial and punishment for them.

After being banished from Eden’s Garden, she lived amongst the mortals, reduced to a fraction of her full powers but still, more powerful than humans.

Lilith fell in love with a mortal man, a mortal king who commanded respect and power, the exact kind of person she’d dreamed of for herself.

She was shot down the second the king came to know of her true nature- a creature rejected by the heavens, the mother of everything unholy.

Her screams of pain ripped the sky apart as she flew to safety, bringing down thunder and lightning behind her.

Her blood rained down to the ground as she created the Demon plane, outside the bounds of everything holy where she could reign supreme without fear

Where drops of her blood fell, there sprang a new race of demons: the succubi and their male counterparts, the incubi.

They were the youngest and newest race of demons but the strongest in their destructive power- They wreaked havoc over the mortal plane with great glee,

their strength came from the darkest fantasies that humans kept locked securely within themselves, particularly of the sexual kind. When a mortal spent enough locked in an incubus’ spell, they lost their wits to the point of madness

At which point the incubi gladly fed off their life forces, reveling in the sweet tang that the newly-damned souls left on their tongues

All of them were devastatingly beautiful, almost angelic in appearance, with their soft skin, silky hair and shapely bodies

but none more beautiful than the youngest of them all

His name was Hwang Hyunjin.

The Nightmare, some called him, others knew him as the Dreamwalker

There was something about him even his kin couldn’t shake, much less the mortals he fed on

Maybe it was the shape of his face: angular yet soft at the cheeks, narrow hooded eyes with the darkness trapped in the pupils, lips that looked like they were sculpted by mother Lilith herself

Or maybe it was the way he was built: lean, tall and sharp where mortal bodies were sharp and soft as they were soft but still, carried the aura of something so distinctly otherworldly even without the black wings balanced on his back.

But it was definitely the way he could make even the most depraved, sex-crazed fantasies into an illusion of love and passion

There was not a single mortal Hyunjin hadn’t succeeded in feeding on because of this depraved skill of his

Like his looks weren’t enough, he also had to be one of the best incubi there ever walked the Earth.

Of course, with creatures that shined so bright in their depravity, disaster was sure to come knocking

and surely enough, it did.

Demons couldn’t love, they were ruled by their penchant for hate-under the first incubi came along, with an entirely different kind of chaos.

Incubi and Succubi felt love as Mother Lilith once felt love- not as a wholesome, fuzzy feeling of warmth as the mortals do

but as an ell-encompassing hellfire gone wrong, endless and destructive in it’s affection.

It was rare as it was devastating, for succubi often couldn’t control what they felt in their unholy souls for their significant others and often gave their existence away in pursuit of their lover

Hyunjin had seen enough of his older siblings go mad in the sham called love and decided that he would never want to walk down that road for himself.

He loved his life and his demonic status, he needed nothing more

Or so he thought, until he saw Amaretta.

Like her name, she was from a foreign land Hyunjin had never deigned to visit

but one look at her made him wish that he had,

for what an infallible beauty was sweet Amaretta, with the brightest skin and the clearest eyes, the sweetest smile and the softest hair.

She carried a scent of jasmine and hibiscus with her, under a deeper tang of an addicting mortal liqueur that always lingered around her.

Hyunjin had to have her, he decided. She was too beautiful, too pure, too...untouched for him to pass up the opportunity

She didn’t pose any difficulty to get to, it was almost like she was waiting for him to find her, the way her shadowed eyes gazed into him as he prowled closer

and oh, what a dreamland her mind was for a deviant like him

The most indecent desires and the most sinful fantasies that were symphony to his ears

And oh, how beautifully her body responded to his touch, the most lovely whimpers and the most musical moans that only he could coax out of her rosebud lips

Her aura just begging for him to come back to her every night like she was the flickering flame and he was the smitten firefly, he couldn’t have enough of the beauty that was Amaretta

Hyunjin was bewitched by her existence to the point where he even forgot about feeding on her at all- it became about her pleasure, the kind of toe-curling pleasure that he could give her, so easily

that it satisfied him even despite the lack of feeding

He didn’t realize it for what it was, that the charm that he had fallen under was the very same curse he had vowed to run from.

Mortals couldn’t withstand the seduction of an incubus for too long, but Amaretta held to her sanity for an entire month before the strings in her mind came undone.

Something broke inside Hyunjin to see his sweet Amaretta, who once shone like the sunlight at dawn, reduced to a mere shadow of her old self

Was it guilt?

He couldn’t bring himself to appear before her when the time came

Even when Amaretta began to see him everywhere that he wasn’t, even when she was shunned by her village and left in the wood to the wilderness

It was when a panther nearly attacked her that he tore the wild cat apart, then watched

as Amaretta threw herself at him, smiling a smile that was so vastly different from the one he was used to seeing from her

Her hair sticking out in the most ghastly way, her eyes sunken into her skull

She looked dead on her feet, a walking ghost

Hyunjin knew there was a soul left in her, one that was all his for the taking

But why didn’t he feel the victory he normally felt after a successful hunt?

What should’ve tasted like sweet lemonade on Hyunjin’s tongue now tasted like powdery ash

His honey-eyed, sweet-smiled Amaretta. Her soul was damned, now another lost soul trapped in the Demon plane

All because of him

So this was the insanity his siblings told him about

To be able to see the one you care about with all of your sinner’s soul and not be able to do anything when you’re the one that’s causing them all of the pain.

It did drive him crazy, so incredibly crazy that he lost the need to feed,

it was like all of the life forces he had ever consumed had set a fire inside him, chanting about the wicked harbringer of death that he would forever be.

He wandered the world as a ghost of his former glory, never again taking pleasure in the fantasies that had once riveted him

Feeding was a chore now, not an unholy cat-and-mouse game

Everybody knows about the youngest true incubus of Lilith who was once all blonde hair and dangerous beauty, a tale of caution for a broken heart, a reminder of how flying too close to the sun will always have end in a savage fall to the ground.

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wxlfstxrx · 4 years

Text

sweater weather chat #5, part 2

our dear @shinymooncolor asked me to help write part 2 of her amazing text fic that had me screaming into my pillow at 6am. lots of hockey puns, lots of laughter, and lots of flirting oOoOooOOoo. thanks shiny for the guidance, and i hope you like it as much as i do :) characters by @lumosinlove!

They had won. He had had his second shutout of the season. A perfect way to pay back a new sponsor. Kasey had never cared much for sucking up to the guys in suits. He had a handful of lucrative endorsements— he didn’t have to do much besides wear certain brands for press and endorse a bunch of stuff like skates, equipment, and even hair products once in a while.

The teasing over the past few days had been near insufferable. And he still felt like kicking himself. But he’d been so frustrated and turned on and Nat knew. She knew what a single snap would do, knew he had to suffer through another two hours worth of presentations. He had tried to pay attention, he really had, but once he knew Kris was taking notes, his mind had drifted. Having his girlfriend live texting and snapping pictures of herself did not help. His phone had glitched at one point, and the texts had been sent off to the worst imaginable group of people. Even texting his mother by accident would have been better than his immature, prankster teammates.

He stomped down the hallway, following the excited chatter and buzzing of his team. He knew the press would be interviewing him, so he stayed in character, not even wincing when Pots threw an arm around his shoulders and cheered loudly before smacking a kiss to the helmet perched on the top of his head. He did, however, squeeze back when Leo wrapped an arm around him, part congratulating and part sympathetic, and he patted his rookie mentee on the back in response.

Coach began his victory speech as he slowly and methodically padded down, unlacing his skates and disregarding the increasing volume that arose on the back of a win. He ignored the pointed whispers of the boys next to him— Kuny and Nado were always up to something, and he wasn’t going to rise to their bait. Not this time.

Dumo got his attention as he sat down heavily next to him, between him and his Russian stall neighbour, wrapping a sweaty arm around his shoulder and waxing poetic about his saves. He rolled his eyes, but immediately re-schooled his face as the media swarmed through the doors. They descended upon him and Cap, and he politely answered questions with pre-studied replies and polite smiles. There was a commotion and some wolf whistles and whooping, but he resolutely ignored it and continued speaking to the reporter.

“No, I’m always preparing differently, each game is new and you can never truly rely—” He stopped short, feeling his cheeks flame; even his many years of psychological training and optimisation had not prepared him for the sight of his six foot teammate dressed up in fishnet tights, some sort of leather bodice and his tattoos on full display. Their teammates were whooping and guffawing, and when Nado caught his eye, he winked exaggeratedly and blew a kiss.

“What the bloody fuck,” Kasey whispered, his jaw dropped and his face bright red.

Nado casually sauntered over to him, falling into Kuny’s stall with frankly too much grace for someone in five inch stilettos. He draped himself against Kasey’s side, and Kasey blinked, leaning back.

“Hey, handsome,” Nado smirked, curling a lock of Kasey’s long brown hair around his finger. He leaned closer, his breath tickling Kasey’s cheek. “I bet my stick would feel great in your crease, don’t you agree, sweetie?”

Bewildered, Kasey’s gaze snapped to the rest of the locker room, purposefully avoiding looking into the cameras. God, he bet the media was having a field day with this… whatever this was. All around him, his teammates and some of their partners who had come down to congratulate them on their win were bent double with laughter, with Pots right at the front gleefully recording the whole spectacle, presumably for Nat, who had not been able to make it due to a gig on the other end of the city.

Nado hooked his legs over Kasey’s on the bench, throwing his arms around him as he seductively trailed a finger down his cheek. “Or, if that’s not your cup of tea, I’m happy to let you cover my crease any time. We can work on our power plays together.”

Someone roared with laughter, and Kasey pushed Nado, who was practically seated on his lap now, off of him. The heavily tattooed man pouted, his big blue eyes glistening like the ocean on a clear summer’s day.

“Aww, c’mon babe, don’t I look hot in leather? The boys seem to think so, and something tells me that you do too,” He smiled sweetly, and Kasey scowled at the others. Tremzy looked like he had just scored his first goal in the league, and Harzy had an arm slung around him, grinning smugly. He met Leo’s eye, and he gave him an apologetic smile and half nod, but his eyes were glittering with amusement.

“I—” Kasey had to stop himself from cussing in front of the media, and he groaned instead, running his hands through his frazzled hair.

“Err, sorry,” The reporter— not Skeeter, this time— cut in, evidently entertained but also very confused. She turned to Nado, seeing as Kasey had buried his face in his hands, muttering under his breath. “Jackson, help me to understand the situation here. Is this some sort of new game ritual you have, or are we missing something?”

Nado smiled lazily, leaning back against the stall divider beside him and combing his fingers through his floppy brown fringe. “Ask Kuny, he’s boss.”

Realising what Nado had done, Kuny spluttered, glaring warningly back at Nado, but he simply shrugged and began to rub Kasey’s back sensually.

Kasey jumped, and he quickly whispered to Nado as the reporter headed over to a very harassed looking Kuny, the cameras trailing behind her.

“Nado, what on earth? What are you guys playing at?”

“Sorry man, I had to. ‘s my punishment for that whole… thing with Kuny’s cousin. He made me do it,” Nado grimaced for a second, then shrugged, batting his eyelashes. He looked down at himself, cocking his head and nodding in approval at the tight leather bodice around his torso. “Gotta admit I look smashing though, I might just have to get a picture of this for the gram.”

Kasey sighed, and looked over at Kuny, who was surrounded by the media and the rest of the team, in their various states of undress.

“Nado been bad. I punish him,” He replied curtly, not wanting to speak more than he had to. Talker snorted, and Sergei and Dumo both barked out a laugh which they covered up with a cough.

The reporter’s eyebrows flew up beneath her bangs. “Oooookay, seems like there’s been lots of, uh, love going around today,” She turned back to the cameras, which swung back round to face her, and she began wrapping up her interview.

Kuny awkwardly slid away, approaching Nado and Kasey as the press made their exit. He thwacked Nado upside the head, and he yelped.

“Fuck you. You— You buttface,” Kuny growled menacingly, but everyone around them burst into another round of laughter.

Timmers wheezed, and he slapped Kuny hard on the back. “Fuck Kuny, you’re a real special one, you know that?”

“What?” He glared. “I cuss at Nado, why you laugh?”

“Nothing,” Timmers shook his head, his hazel eyes bright and shining with mirth. “Nothing, Kuny. You’re good. Stay like this forever, please.”

Pots, who was still recording, whipped the camera around to face Kasey and Nado, still seated on the bench, Kasey having forgotten about removing his gear when the press had come in. Nado instantly threw himself back onto Kasey’s lap, flicking his fringe dramatically and smiling at the camera.

“Say, Nado, why do I have a feeling you’ve got more to offer than what you’ve given us already?” Pots grins, zooming in to Nado’s wink.

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask!” He lifted the back of his hand to his forehead theatrically, his voice a high pitched whine. He didn’t even break character, Kasey had to give him that, but before he had the chance to push Nado off him again, the other boy had cupped both his cheeks in his large hands and brought their faces close together.

“You know, I think the ref should’ve given you two minutes in the box earlier,” Nado simpered, waggling his eyebrows at Kasey, who decided to fix his gaze on the long scar running across his teammate’s face rather than look into his eyes. “Because baby, you’ve got me hooked onto you.”

Kasey’s eyes flew up to meet Nado’s in a frown. “I— That wasn’t— What?”

Tremzy gasped loudly. “Blizzard, are you… blushing? From that pick up line?”

“What? No I’m not,” Kasey tried to defend himself indignantly, but Nado was grinning from ear to ear and even Loops, who had been silently watching all this while with a mysterious smile, snickered at that.

Nado turned so he was straddling Kasey, and his hands gripped onto the dividers on either side of them, effectively caging Kasey in his stall. With nowhere else to look at, Kasey dared to roam his eyes over Nado, from his chin-length brown hair falling into a curtain around his face, to his confident smirk, down to his bare unshaved chest, still glistening with sweat from the match earlier and the stifling heat in the locker room.

Up close, he could see the details on his tight leather corset, the three heavy straps in the front and the tight shiny material stretched out at the crotch, giving Kasey an impressive but probably very inappropriate view of Nado’s groin. He flushed even more as he realised Nado’s bare ass, save for the fishnet stockings, was planted on his lap.

Speaking of the fishnet… Fuck.

Nado had actually shaved his legs for this. What the hell. His long legs were spread wide open and his muscular thighs were pressed against his own, and those stilettos... His stall suddenly seemed very warm, and Kasey leaned back against the wall behind him, his head thunking against the wood loudly.

“Oh, Kasey,” He pinched Kasey’s flaming cheek with one hand, and he swatted it away, huffing in embarrassment. “Seems like the fishnet and leather are indeed to your liking, eh?”

“Fuck off,” He muttered in response, crossing his arms and turning to the side.

“Oh, but don’t you just love the way the fishnet feels against your legs?” Nado purred into his ear. “Just imagine, darling, what these legs will feel like, wrapped around your—”

Kasey stood up suddenly, his hands sliding under Nado’s ass and lifting him up. Nado shrieked and clutched onto Kasey’s broad shoulders tightly as he turned around, slamming him up against the empty wall beside his stall. He leaned in close enough so their noses were almost touching, his light brown eyes blazing, a stark contrast from his usual calm and collected front. “Yeah, Nado? You wanna go? Why imagine? I’m not afraid of spearing you. Think you can handle me, hmmm?”

He raised a brow, and Nado’s eyes widened in shock. He heard a mixture of gasps, chokes and laughter from behind him, and his lips curled up in a victorious smirk. He stepped back from the wall, walking them over to Kuny, who was seated by his stall. Kasey let go of Nado, dropping him into his roommate’s lap, and nonchalantly turned back to his stall to continue undressing. As he tugged off his leg pads and skates, he called over his shoulder to Kuny.

“Take your work wife home, won’t you, Russian God? He’s got a timeout.”

With that, he peeled off his jersey and the rest of his gear, and headed to the gym to cool down, leaving the rest of the team in chaos.

On the way out, he passed by Kuny patting Nado on the head comfortingly and telling him, “Hehe, not be bad anymore. I’m win.”

He was sure he heard Nado respond with a “Fuck, I think I need a cold shower. Now.”

#Sweater Weather #sweaterweatherchats #lumosinlove #sweaterweatherchatsnr5

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Note

Prompt 15?

Thanks for the prompt, dude!

15. Drunkenly confessing feelings

That Floaty Feeling

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: T Word count: 3927

Summary:

How long has Michelle been the kind of girl who stays long after the party's over? About as long as Peter's been the kind of guy who passes out drunk on a pool float.

Michelle doesn’t go home because there’s nothing interesting to go home to. Griping parents, or maybe sleeping parents, and the inevitability of there being nothing good on TV, everything determinedly uncompelling enough to counter the secret pleasure she gets from sitting on the floor in the dark, too close to the screen with the volume on low. She’s fifteen. She’s ready for her simple pleasures to be a little less simple.

Anyway, it’s nice here now. She sits on the kitchen counter, both knees up and legs crossed at the ankles, to feel the air coming through the window screen. It’s not quite cool, but it’s a breeze and therefore better than the sticky stillness of the large house. Why does anyone like the weather in mid-August?

When Michelle slides reluctantly off the edge to stand on the tile floor, her movement rattles plastic bottles and tin cans, sloshes water from a forgotten ice tray―the tools of mixed drinks concocted by an amateur hand. Or dozens of them. Every teenage boy becomes a bartender at a house party, by his own estimation. That’s why she’s getting up. It may seem quiet enough from her perch in the kitchen, but drinks made too strong have their predictable effects and there are some people at this party that she cares about. So what if she’s never exactly mentioned it? Michelle figures the words will come in their own time, like the vomiting that will come to anyone who drank some of the combos she identifies based on which bottles are clustered together on the countertop and kitchen table.

She wanders.

Ned and Betty are on the couch in the living room, staring at each other shyly and sleepily like they forget that they were making out hard the last time Michelle passed through. Flash is sitting against a wall by his DJing stuff, rhythmically (and irritatingly) clunking the side of a plastic cup in and out. He attempts to draw her into an argument that she can barely decipher with his slurring and more changes in dynamic than he uses with music, so she ignores him. The person Michelle doesn’t find is Liz, who is presumably upstairs. She could be drunkenly reapplying and overexaggerating her makeup in the bathroom, going van Gogh-swirly on the eyes and Picasso-pointy on the lips; or weeping over an unrequited crush in her bedroom while her best friends hold her hands, petting her shoulders and the tops of her feet; or even banging some guy in the spare room just because they’re both young and alive and not immune to the rituals of summer’s-almost-over high school parties. Michelle has no problem with any of her decathlon captain’s theoretical choices. As long as the guy with Liz is not the same guy Michelle has not yet admitted she’s looking for. Even coming close to acknowledging her feelings makes her too warm, the back of her neck clammy, so she darts quietly through Liz’s parents’ house, re-entering and exiting the empty kitchen, pushing out the heavy back door.

Her sudden breathy snort is disbelief. She’s found him. Peter’s in the pool.

Specifically, he’s lying on an inflatable lounger, drifting on top of the water, which is great news because it looks like he’s asleep and if he wasn’t riding this lime-green floaty he probably would’ve drowned. He still could. The idiot might roll over and flop right into the deep end. The floaty could be defective and slowly deflate beneath him. Michelle doesn’t want to rescue Peter Parker, but she’s here and she could. Calling Ned to deal with his friend himself or just throwing empty cans at Peter until he wakes up don’t occur to her. Instead, Michelle glances around the backyard, dark but for the wavering shine from lights along the walls of the pool below the surface. Aha, pool shed. She approaches.

It’s really more of a pool gazebo, practically a pool guest house, as she swings the door open and tries to judge the size of the space in the dark. Luckily, she doesn’t need to venture far; the tool for the job at hand is cradled in a pair of hooks mounted to the wall just inside. Michelle emerges with the pole of a blue leaf skimmer gripped in her hand and returns to the pool’s edge. Where she hesitates.

Peter shifts in his sleep. She’s hardly seen him since school let out a month and a half ago. Is he taller? Unlikely. She doesn’t mean to be watching him, but when she realizes she is, she takes a swift look over her shoulder. Nobody staring out the back door, no curious faces in the windows. There’s honestly nothing to see. At most, someone might think she’s come out here to murder Peter with a leaf skimmer, which everyone would probably accept as so on-brand for the sarcastic asocial girl (who only really lights up when she overhears words like ‘unsolved,’ ‘conspiracy,’ and ‘cereal’―homophones are the source of many of her day-to-day disappointments) that her quietly simmering crush would remain unnoticed. When his chest rises and falls peacefully, Michelle starts to lean forward. PANIC. She plants the end of the skimmer in a gap between the large patio stones to prevent herself from toppling into the pool. This will not turn into a situation where she’s the one who needs to be saved. She sighs and accepts that she better reel this dork (crush? Who said crush?) in.

Balance regained and heart rate returning to normal, Michelle takes hold of the skimmer’s net and reaches across the water with the handle. It takes some adjusting, some extending and angling, but she gets the end of the pole in the floaty’s cupholder. She breathes deeply, always watching Peter’s face, as she tows him along the surface of the water, walking at the pool’s edge to the shallow end. A soft swish, the bright noises of bugs at night. Then, the inflatable chair is bumping the wide steps and Peter stirs. No, shhh, Michelle thinks, go back to sleep. But that’s ridiculous. He has to be awake for her to get him out of the pool. If he doesn’t get out of the pool, her rescue is incomplete. He has to get out, say an awkward thanks, and stroll into the house to find Ned. Or Liz. Oh, Michelle’s aware of the way Liz has been warming to Peter. She likes Liz a lot―at the same time, she wants to stand between the two of them like the Great Wall of China. That’s a normal thing to feel, right?

Peter seems groggy from sleep, but Michelle’s voice shoots up in alarm as he begins to stretch. She won’t have him ruin her rescue by dunking himself at the last minute. The grin he gives at her warning makes her realize it’s not sleep grogginess. This guy is drunk. Incredibly, a nap on a pool floaty has done nothing to speed his sobriety.

“Michelle,” he tells her, “get off the roof.”

“I’m not on the roof, you’re in the pool.”

He gives her a look like he doubts this very much and tilts to the side, trying to check out his surroundings. It sends a surge of worry through her, panic like when she almost fell in.

“Just… trust me. You’re in the pool.”

“Oh. You coming in? D’you wanna share this…”

Either he can’t recall the word ‘chair’ or he’s having trouble identifying the thing he’s lying on as a chair. She kinda can’t blame him. It’s a weird place to wake up.

“No, I’m trying to get you out before you drown like a moron.”

“Aquaman can’t drown,” Peter protests.

Michelle groans.

“I didn’t say Aquaman, I said a moron.”

“S’not my favourite either, but I wouldn’ call him a moron,” he mumbles disgruntledly.

“Would you stop being so…!” She takes a breath. He’s smiling up at her again. “Come on, I’ll help you out.”

She tosses the skimmer away onto the lawn, steps onto the pool’s dry top step and crouches, extending her hands towards him.

“I’ll help you out,” Peter counters.

It’s weirdly suggestive, the way he says it. Like a drunken doofus who stranded himself on a pool floaty has any possible power of seduction. Like he’d want to use it on her if he did. Michelle’s pretty sure the Liz thing is mutual.

“Where’s my Ned? M’Ned. Ned. Ned?” he asks as they clasp hands (his are smooth and cool) and Peter eyes the wet stairs that he’s going to have to navigate since he seems to lack the necessary coordination to pull himself out onto the stones. If he picked one step higher, he wouldn’t dip the legs of his shorts in the water, but of course he does. Thankfully, he appears to find his footing (where are his shoes?), still sitting on the edge of the floaty as it squeals and tries to tip.

“Inside. Possibly defiling a couch with Betty.”

“S’not a bad idea,” Peter jokes with a sloppy grin as Michelle tugs him forward.

He slips on the wet step and she slips on too much momentum, but he’s somehow competent enough to steady her, their hands now squeezing each other. He’s close. His breath is warm and beery. What fifteen-year-old goes to a party and gets this drunk on beer? Gross. Michelle only holds his hands long enough to make sure he gets up the steps without falling back in. When she tries to let him go, Peter holds on.

“S’slippy,” he points out. He skates one foot out along the stones and leaves a slick trail of pool water.

“Fine. But only to the door.”

He beams to be allowed to hold her hand. She assumes he’s really afraid of slipping and cracking his head open. That’s… not unreasonable.

“Not with Betty,” he blurts right after making her pause. There’s a pine tree in the yard and Peter’s pulling a needle out of the soft arch of his foot.

“What?”

Michelle’s losing patience for this whole thing. It’s too much! He needs too much! She should’ve just gotten Ned. She can’t care for Peter like this, like a babysitter. Why didn’t she go home? She didn’t need this night of holding his hand and feeling his wet shorts touch her leg when he staggered too close.

“I don’ want Betty on the couch.”

“I hope you don’t want Betty at all. Because she’s into your best friend,” Michelle clarifies with a nervous swallow.

“Right.”

What the hell does he mean? Is she supposed to know?

“They looked pretty tame when I left,” she volunteers.

“Sometimes people do,” Peter replies with the cryptic wisdom reserved for the inebriated, and young children having a Wednesday Addams-type phase.

“Yeah, well.”

It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a couple blunt words meant to shut him up, neutralize any thoughtful implications of what he says. Michelle finally shakes off his hand and gives his back a gentle shove towards the door. She isn’t anticipating Peter bracing his arms against the frame, making her collide with his back because she expected him to keep moving. It’s really bad that she doesn’t back up immediately. Really bad. So bad. She can feel his heart beating through his back and her front, his science t-shirt and her striped one. What if she raised her hands to touch his back again, softer? What if she lowered her head until her forehead found the nape of his neck? Michelle’s lips part. In a few seconds, Peter opens the door and moves on like nothing happened.

Not totally though, because while she’s preoccupied with closing the door after them, he grabs her hand again. Michelle jolts, then notices his fingers are more than the welcoming cool she felt outside. They’re chilled. That stupid inflatable wasn’t a lot to have between his body and the water of the pool as the temperature finally started to drop after midnight.

“Michelle,” he says seriously, fingers wriggling as he holds her hand like he’s trying to figure out a way for his not to slide off. “I really―”

“You’re cold,” she says. “You’re too wobbly for me to have any confidence in letting you warm up by moving around. Maybe you should borrow a shower. They have one in the ground floor bathroom, isn’t that weird? I saw it before.”

Yes, Michelle’s rambling. Shower. Peter.

“You’re really great. I think you’re so… the best. Smart pretty.”

“Oh,” she replies. He probably means ‘pretty smart.’

Suddenly, his sort of dreamy expression changes.

“Might throw up before I shower.”

“Good call,” Michelle says, racing ahead of Peter’s stumbling steps to fling open the bathroom door. She closes it much more carefully to offer privacy while he pukes.

With a heavy exhalation, she sinks to the floor, back sliding down the wood door, bevelled detailing abusing her spine. She hears a flush, a splash of water, and maybe the rustle of clothing. Thinking about Peter dropping his clothes to the tiles makes her antsy and wary of being caught here. Not that she’s actually doing anything more than sitting alone on the ground a couple hours past the party’s peak. Idly, Michelle hopes he did get totally naked. Just because, if he entered the shower with some item of clothing still on, what was the point of so carefully extracting him from the pool? She’s not worried, she just doesn’t want him to cancel out her considerable efforts. Her moderate efforts. It’s basically been no trouble. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have bothered. She thinks about Liz upstairs. Yep, why help Peter? There’s nothing in it for Michelle.

The water shuts off after a couple minutes. Peter makes a sound like he’s about to fall and Michelle bolts to her feet, hand hovering over the doorknob, before she hears him catch himself and sigh in relief. She lowers herself to the floor again, embarrassed by her reaction. He doesn’t need her here. He’ll probably be surprised if she’s hanging around when he comes out.

“Michelle?” Peter asks through the door. “You there?”

Her eyes widen and her body tenses. Should she jump up and run away? Hightail it to the living room and pretend she’s been there with Ned and Betty while he showered? If they’ve started making out again, they won’t even notice that she hasn’t been there the whole time. Peter taps feebly at the door. Or maybe he’s resting his head against it. She stays put.

“Yeah. What?”

“Thanks for helping me.”

He sounds about as pathetic as a Victorian orphan.

“I had nothing better to do,” Michelle assures him, tracing the grout between tiles with her fingertip.

“You coulda jus’ watched me. I know you do that. Watch me. Sometimes. I think you do.”

Shit. She should’ve run. Her mouth opens and a squeaky groan comes out as she tries to compose a response.

“I didn’t know you were such a narcissist. Trust me, I have more important things to do with my time,” she says, still outlining tiles like they’re tiny tracks and her fingers are trains she could board to escape this conversation. “You must’ve imagined it.”

He opens the door so quietly―Liz’s parents must take care of their hinges―that Michelle flops backwards as Peter goes to step out and tumbles against his shins.

“I really like you,” he says as she cranes to stare up at him. His wet hair drips on her cheek.

Michelle just shakes her head and starts to scramble to her feet. Peter attempts to help her up by grabbing beneath her arms, nearly groping her boob in the process, though it’s clearly not intentional because when she turns, standing, she can tell he’s still not his soberest self.

“Wanna forget I said that,” Peter says.

She scrutinizes his flushed face and the slightly dazed look in his eyes. Was that a question? Is he requesting that she forget, for the sake of his own self-consciousness? Or is it a statement? He regrets saying it so much that he’s expressing, to her face, that he wishes he hadn’t. Her gaze drops to his t-shirt. The neck’s getting wet as water continues to drain down from his hair. Has this boy ever heard of a towel? Michelle should not have to look at him with his pink cheeks and his normally gelled hair loosened into hanging, wet curls along his forehead.

“You helped me,” he says, and wraps her in a hug.

Which she quickly wriggles out of. This is not the relationship, not the friendship, they have. He’s drunk and he likes Liz―mature, responsible, gorgeous Liz―not her.

“You smell like beer,” Michelle informs him, so he won’t be offended by the way she rejected physical contact. Or maybe so he will be offended. She doesn’t trust this. He’d probably be all cozy and grateful with any idiot who happened to haul him out of that pool. At least he doesn’t smell like barf.

“I didn’ even like it.”

His expression is scrunched and adorable in, like, a toddler kind of way. Whatever, he’s dumb and she doesn’t have a crush on him.

“You just, what, drank every bottle you found to make sure?”

Peter sighs dramatically and tilts sideways, clearly intending to lean against the bathroom’s doorframe and clearly going to miss it because his spatial awareness is not the greatest right now. Michelle grabs his arms.

“Coffee,” she blurts. “Do you like coffee?”

“No,” Peter whines. “I jus’ like you.”

“You keep saying that,” Michelle mutters to herself, glancing away like Ned will appear and reclaim his best friend if she looks around for him enough times. She takes Peter’s hand again (he smiles like he’s happy to give it) and leads him to the kitchen.

“What are we doing?”

“Um,” she says, pulling open cupboards, “making you coffee.”

“Ok.”

“Ok? A minute ago you said you don’t like it. I was kinda expecting a tantrum.”

“S’gross,” he states as he rests against the counter next to her. “But I like being with you. I like you.”

Michelle laughs weakly.

“Sure you do,” she says.

“Yeah and this is gonna take forever.”

“Why would it take forever?” she asks, digging into a drawer.

“Liz’s parents don’ drink coffee.”

She straightens up and stares at Peter, who slides closer, grinning innocently.

“How do you know that?”

He frowns in hazy thought.

“She was drinking it one time and said her parents wouldnapprove. Wouldnapprove,” he repeats, struggling to separate his words. He gives up. “They wouldn’ like it.”

“Right. So. There’s no coffee in this house?”

“Don’ think so.”

“If you wanted to spend time with me, you wouldn’t have told me that,” Michelle points out. “Now I don’t have to search this kitchen.”

“Why were you?”

“For coffee, dumbass.”

“Why?”

“To… clear your head. Make you stop acting weird.” She blushes and turns away from him. What’s her next move? Drag him to Ned and finally leave this house and its lingering party guests?

“Because I was in the pool,” Peter says gravely.

Michelle turns back.

“No, not because you were in the pool. Because of… because you said… Other reasons.”

Annoyingly, he just smiles at her.

“I’m nice,” he tells her.

She snorts.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m nice. Lemme be nice to you.”

“Well, it was already super nice listening to you vomit, so I think I’m good. I’ll go find Ned and he can take it from here.”

She’s two steps away when Peter speaks.

“I thought I liked Liz.” Michelle flinches. “She’s really great, but I feel different about you.”

She wants to flip him off or tell him to shut up―simple methods she’s used to push him away at school, but between the vulnerability in his voice and the fact that he’s still tipsy, she’s scared that being too harsh could make him burst into tears.

“You’re just… you think I saved you. You’ve got some kind of drunk hero-worship thing going on,” she diagnoses, not turning around.

“I thought I would be able to talk to you,” he says quietly. “I saw you over and over all night and I was never really, never ready,” he corrects, “to talk to you, so I kept getting another beer.”

“You’re an idiot,” she says gently.

“Don’ remember why I went in the pool.”

“You’re just dramatic like that.”

“Maybe,” Peter sighs. “Am I still drunk?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“I’ve been drunk forever.”

“That’s why I was getting you coffee,” Michelle reminds him, turning back.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Coffee. I should… tell Ned.”

This plan is vague and it’s possible that he’ll abandon it, but she can’t abandon him because Peter pushes off the counter and grabs her hand as he barrels out of the kitchen. The plan holds long enough for them to find Ned (and Betty) asleep on the living room couch. Michelle assess them and decides they look minorly dishevelled―enough that they probably made out again, but not enough that anything more than that went down. Betty’s hairband is askew where she laid her head on Ned’s chest.

“He’s asleep,” Peter says, too loud. Michelle shushes him and pulls him away. “Now what?” he asks in a noisy whisper.

“Well, you should probably stay with―”

“You. I’ll be better after coffee,” he promises. “Way better.”

“Better at what? At remembering you don’t actually like me?”

“I like you.”

“You’re confused.”

“Great comeback,” she says flatly.

“Let’s see. After coffee. I’ll still like you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Parker,” Michelle says because she’s scared of his insistence. He’s making it harder and harder to brush off as some stupid thing he said to her when he was drunk with every reiteration.

“If we don’ get coffee, you’ll never know if you were right. Don’ you wanna know if you were right?” he baits.

She glares at him. He beams.

“Look,” Peter continues, yanking something from his pocket, “I didn’ drop my wallet in the pool!”

“Congratulations.”

“I can pay for coffee!”

“You’re not paying,” she says with a firmness that startles them both. “Because, because you’re under the influence and shouldn’t be making financial decisions.”

“A coffee decision isn’ a financial decision,” he argues.

“Of course it is. So, I’ll pay.”

“We’re going? Yes!”

“Shhh!”

Michelle rolls her eyes and frees her hand from Peter’s to let him follow her to the front door on his own two feet. There are his shoes, at last, kicked off to the side. She waits while he stomps his feet into them, then blinks in the darkness as they step out into the early morning. It has to be coming up on four o’clock.

“There’s probably a twenty-four-hour place nearby,” she says, nervous as they set out.

“’K.”

“You’re too trusting. What if I was kidnapping you?”

“I could get away,” Peter brags. “You don’ even have that thing.”

“What thing?”

He mimes for her.

“The skimmer,” she interprets. “Right. Every would-be kidnapper’s weapon of choice.”

Peter’s holding her hand again by the time they reach the end of the street. Michelle doesn’t know how it happened.

“Why’d you help me?” he asks while she looks left and right, considering the likeliest direction for the cup of coffee that’ll assist Peter in his return to sobriety so they can clear this whole thing up. Back to the reality of her one-sided crush. “I forget.”

She makes her decision.

“Because,” she tells him. “There was nothing good on TV.”

more clichéd tropes and prompts

#my writing #spideychelle #spideychelle fic #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones

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delicatelyherdreams · 4 years

Text

Pragma(tic) 9: The Past Comes Back to Haunt Her

Pragma(tic) 8: He Gets Found Out (and a Phone Call)

Pairing: Persephone!Bucky Barnes x Hades!Reader

Summary: In a world where the old gods never truly died, you must learn to navigate your way through the ups and downs of immortality. And if living forever wasn’t hard enough, an ancient evil is now threatening to break free after centuries of silence. And as if that still wasn’t hard enough for you, now a pesky and infuriatingly handsome god is trying to wedge his way into your life. Gods, work, love, and conflict—what more could a goddess need? [Hades & Persephone AU]

Word Count: 4651

Warnings: Language; PTSD

Pragma(tic) Masterlist

Previous 8: He Gets Found Out (and a Phone Call)

The sky was blue and clear, not a single cloud in sight. The summer sun beat down on your back as you leaned over your work in the middle of the clearing. Your hands moved fast, your tongue was held in between your teeth as you concentrated, your brows knit together, and you focused. The world, the clearing, and the trees surrounding you melted away as you worked. Only your project mattered.

You spun something out of nothing, twirling your tiny, childish hands around the small, abnormally shaped ball that hovered midair. Red flowed from your palms, gravitating towards the center of your creation, and it stuck wherever it landed. It solidified as it hit the surface, adding to the shiny jewel that was forming in your hands. The gem was see-through, completely clear, but a satisfying shade of red that you loved. A small smile danced across your lips. Your mother was going to love this.

When it was finally the size of a small pebble, you stopped revolving your hands around your creation and instead brought them together in a cup beneath it. The red object fell through the air, landing in your palm.

You beamed down at it before standing, hiking up the skirt of your white chiton, and running over to the woman who was seated on a large rock at the edge of the clearing and was watching you with an amused gaze.

She was beautiful, perfect, the very definition of grace. Her rich dark hair was braided with gold and jewels (most of which you had created for her) and cascaded down her shoulder, coming to rest right above her heart. A gold chiton hung loosely from the titaness’ shoulders, covering her body while leaving her arms, shoulders, and collar bones out for the sun to kiss.

You scampered over to her as fast as your little legs would take you, holding the red stone out in front of you. “Mama!” you cried, your young voice filling the air. “Mama, look! I made another one.” You stopped at her feet and held it up.

Rhea smiled down at you and took the jewel from you. “So lovely, my darling,” she mused, holding it up to the light and gazing through it. The sun streamed through the jewel, casting a pink glow on her tanned skin. Her smile widened. “Wow! It’s clear all the way through.”

“I think it’s prettier like that, don’t you? It makes your face change colors!”

“So it does.” She closed her fingers around the jewel and pulled her braid closer to her. Her fingers worked to tuck it into the braid with the others. “Thank you, little one. It is beautiful.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile and sat cross-legged at her feet. “You’re welcome, Mama.”

Her eyes trailed over the stones her dark braid. Most of them were red. “You seem to like making the red ones the most. They match your eyes.” She chuckled softly and turned her gaze to you. “Do you have a name for your creations?”

You nodded, a smile brightening your face. “I think I wanna call them rubies. I dunno why, it’s just a nice name for the red ones.”

Your mother hummed. “Well, be absolutely sure that that is what you want to call them. Once you give them their name, that will always be their name. They are your creation and what you say goes.”

You frowned up at her, your gaze curious and confused. “What do you mean, Mama; ‘what I say goes?’”

She grinned slyly like she knew something you didn’t—which she probably did. “Come with me, my child, and I shall show you.” She reached down and took your tiny hand in hers.

You stood up and walked with her.

She led you through the trees, stepping over fallen logs and helping you over them too. You didn’t know where she was taking you, but you didn’t care. You just loved spending time with your mother.

She was the best mother there was, always there to love you and hug you and squeeze you tight. She loved you, and you loved her.

Rhea guided you through the trees over to a new clearing, but this one wasn’t surrounded by trees. This one was a cliff that came to a point. She took you right up to the edge.

From up there, you could see a vast majority of the land that you lived in. You could see rolling hills taking over the whole area, with small dots nestled in the valleys and near the sea. Each dot was a village that held many people. You’d often sneak down to watch them

Your mother stopped you at the edge of the cliff and sat down, beckoning you to sit on her lap. “What do you see, my dear?”

You sat down on her thigh and leaned back into her chest. “I see people. It’s the Mortal World, right?”

“Yes. This is the land known as Sicily. And who lives there?”

“The mortals.”

“Very good. Now, you know that you are not a mortal. You’re an immortal, what the humans would call a god, or, in your case, a goddess.”

You turned your eyes up to her, sparkling with curiosity. “Are you a goddess, Mama?”

She laughed. “No. I am a titaness. I am older than the gods, but that’s not important.” She plucked one ruby from her hair and offered it to you. “Because you are a goddess, you get to control some aspects of the world. You are a goddess of wealth, and so these jewels that you create will be worth a lot. The names you give them will be used by mortals everywhere because they are yours. It is one of your powers, and more will develop as you grow older. It is a great responsibility to bear.”

You frowned. “But I’m just a kid.”

“You may have only aged seven years, my child, but you are still their god nonetheless, and they will worship you just the same.” She chuckled. “I know you will be a great goddess. You will go down in their stories as one of the greatest in history.”

You giggled. “I hope so, Mama. I wanna be a good goddess. Do you think the mortals will like me?”

“It is hard to tell, my child. But so long as you stay just, benevolent, and fair, I’m sure they will.”

You opened your mouth to ask her something else, but you were stopped by a loud crash and the earth shaking. You shrieked as you fell off your mother’s lap, sprawling on the ground.

Your mother blanched and shot to her feet, staring at something in the distance. “(y/n), hide.”

“Mama, what—?”

“Go!” She grabbed you by your wrist and threw you towards the tree.

You obeyed, running into the trees to hide beneath one. Looking back out at the clearing, you saw your mother grow larger, her height soaring until she was giant. So tall, was the titan’s true form, that she towered above everything else, even mountains. When your mother was at her full height, you hardly came up to her big toe. She rarely used this form with you (unless you wanted to say hi to the birds) because you hated feeling small and insignificant. You’d only seen this form once or twice, and only when he came around.

You turned your head over your shoulder, almost too scared to look.

You could see him. He was always in his full size. You saw his monstrous form towering over everything, but you couldn’t make out any distinct features. He was all black. He marched towards your hiding spot and your mother, undoubtedly glaring.

“Kronos,” your mother purred, trying to mask the fear in her voice with seduction. “To what do I owe this pleasure, my darling husband?”

“You know why I’m here.” His deep voice thundered over the valley, startling birds out of their nests. “I want her.”

“Wh-Who?”

You frowned at the time, filled with confusion. You knew she knew he was talking about you, but you would later realize that she was trying to protect you.

“Our daughter,” he hissed. “She has been allowed to roam the earth too long. She should’ve been dealt with right after she was born. Instead I was soft and allowed you some time. Now I have come to collect. Give her to me.”

Your mother bit her lip and shook her head. “No! I can’t. She’s just a child.”

“A child who will destroy us.” His face was black, not a single feature was visible, but you could’ve sworn that his eyes flashed red. “Now give her to me! I know you have hidden her near. You never stray too far away from your precious child.” His head turned down, and you knew he was searching for you. His eyes pierced the very trees before you felt them settle on you. You could hear the smile in his voice as he cooed, “Found you.”

A black hand appeared out of nowhere, plucking you from your hiding spot by the back of your chiton.

You screamed as the ground disappeared from beneath your feet, twisting and turning in a struggle. All you could cry out was, “Father! No! Please, no!”

“Kronos! Let her go! She’s just a child!” your mother wailed, suddenly at his side and clinging onto her husband’s arm as she tried to wrench you from his grip. You could see the fear for your life in her eyes.

He sneered down at her, his eyes turning red with agitation. “She won’t be a child for long. I must contain her while I can.” Then, with a swift motion, he yanked his arm out of Rhea’s grasp, causing her to fall to the ground, and opened his mouth, bringing you closer and closer to his lips.

With a sickening drop of your stomach, you knew—in your young, tiny heart—you knew what he was about to do. You screamed as you panicked. “Father, please! I don’t wanna go in there! I’ll be good! I’ll be a good girl! Just please don’t.”

His mouth didn’t move, but you could hear his voice clear as day in your head. “I’m sorry, little one. But I have no choice. I cannot kill you, so I must contain you.”

You continued to approach his mouth and you were starting to grow frantic. “Father! Please! Don’t!” Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you struggled and writhed, but your efforts were fruitless. He didn’t stop. “Father!” you tried again, begging him to spare you. “I’ll be good! I’ll be a good god! Just, please! Father! Dad! Daddy, please!”

But he only brought you closer to his mouth until you were hovering right over the opening. And, before you knew it, you were falling. He had dropped you and the wind was soaring past your ears. The fleshy pink of his gullet encompassed your vision, covering more and more of what you could see until there was no light left. As you plunged into the darkness, you could hear only two things: the sounds of your mother’s wailing, and your own screams of pure terror as you fell down, down, down—into the pit of your father’s stomach.

———

“NO!”

You sat bolt upright in your bed, the sheets clinging to your body with a cold sweat. Your chest rose and fell rapidly with shallow panting and your panicked eyes darted all around you. It was black, just as black as your prison.

“Light!” you summoned, holding out your hand. A scarlet fire erupted over your palm, casting a dim glow over the room. You waved your hand all over, shining light on the furniture that made up your bedroom. It took you a good moment to realize that you were at your own home rather than in your father’s stomach, and when the realization finally settled on you, you were only slightly less panicked than you had been.

Releasing the ball of red fire to drift around the room, you threw the covers off of your body and began to pace the hardwood floors. Your sports bra and sleep shorts were damp with your own sweat, and the night air hitting your skin made you shiver, but you didn’t care. Your mind was elsewhere.

He’s not here. He can’t hurt you anymore. He’s in Tartarus. He’s locked up. You’re safe.

But you didn’t believe the thoughts one bit.

You still felt like you were falling. You could still feel the wind rushing past you. You could still hear the screams—your screams.

Your chest grew tight, like a hand was crushing your heart. You winced at the pain, trying to push it deep down.

You shoved your fingers through your hair, taking a fistful and tugging. The dull pain usually helped you focus in on reality, but this time it seemed to do nothing. You were still trembling, and you had no hope of calming down on your own.

You needed something alive. Cerberus was out of the question because he was on his shift guarding the borders. Peggy was also out because she was there too. You needed someone else; someone to talk you down, someone to tell you what your mind was already saying.

Brock, of course, was the first person you immediately thought of, but upon further deliberation, he probably wasn’t the best choice. He didn’t like it when you were too emotional. He was always awkward and stiff around you when you tried to talk to him about your past or about your nightmares. He hated it.

You pulled harder at your hair, the squeezing in your chest only tightening and crushing your heart.

You needed someone who could listen and make you feel better. You needed someone who could be trusted with the more sensitive side of you. You needed—

You stopped dead in your tracks. Your head turned slowly towards your phone, which was sitting dark on your nightstand. You had his number, he’d said that you could call him anytime you needed. Well, if there was ever a time you needed him, it was now.

Your feet were moving before you knew it, and you were unlocking your phone and pulling up Bucky’s contact just as quick. You pressed “call” and held the phone up to your ear.

As you heard the dial tone, you had to wonder: was Bucky even still up? Were you disturbing his sleep or was he still awake? Would he be bothered—

“Hello?”

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and your jaw went slack. Holy shit, he’d actually answered.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck; what the fuck do you say? “Hey, Buck. It’s (y/n). You know, the scary Queen of the Underworld? Yeah, listen. I just had a nightmare and I’m acting like a toddler and need you to calm me down.” That was laughable and pathetic. This whole situation was pathetic. You should’ve just hung up and called it a night, but your heart wouldn’t let you.

“Hello?” he called again, his voice teeming with worry.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and whispered, “B-Bucky?”

You could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “(y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He was definitely concerned now, and—although you felt bad for making him worry—it was comforting to know he cared.

You shoved your hand through your hair again and squeezed your eyes shut as you sat down on your bed. You could still see the faint red of the fire floating around behind your eyelids, but it was little comfort. Your voice trembled as you stuttered, “I-I…” You mentally cursed yourself. You couldn’t even form a damn sentence in your frazzled state.

“It’s alright, Doll. I’m here now,” Bucky soothed, trying to coax you into speaking. “Use your words. What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“I… I need you.” Admitting your need was crushing and you could feel your muscles stiffening as the severity of the fear inflicted by the nightmare finally dawned on you. It felt like your whole body was atrophying like you were turning to stone. Within moments, you would be frozen in place as the panic truly set in.

“I’m on my way.” The line went dead as he hung up, plunging you back into the silence of your mind.

You couldn’t tell if it was better or worse to be in the quiet room, but the only real comfort you had was that Bucky was coming.

And, sure enough, you heard rumbling overhead—the telltale sign that signaled the ceiling of the chasm opening up above you. A loud thud resonated outside your house; something heavy had just fallen into the Asphodel Meadows. You were so frozen on your bed that you couldn’t even make yourself stand up to go to the window to see if it was him. You could hear footsteps running across the fields, growing closer until they were right outside your door. From there, the front door opened and you could hear footsteps bounding into the entryway before coming to a stop. It only then dawned on you that Bucky had never been in your home and that he probably wouldn’t know where your room was. You wanted to yell for him, scream his name, something, but your voice was locked in a cage at the base of your throat. You wanted to stomp on the ground, jump up and down, to do anything, but you were stone. You could not move.

The footsteps began to move again downstairs and you heard him shuffling around.

Find the staircase, Bucky.

You prayed to any higher being there was that he would find you, you needed him so badly.

Please, Buck. It’s right by the door. I know it’s dark, but you can find it. Right up the stairs. My room is the whole floor. Please. Please hurry.

As if listening to your silent directions, the footsteps neared the staircase and began to mount them. You could tell he was on his way up because you heard the creak of the fifth step up. No matter where you stepped, it always creaked. The thudding grew louder as he grew closer until he finally reached the door. That too creaked open as he moved it ever so slightly, and he called out in a quiet, careful voice, “(y/n)?”

You would’ve sobbed with relief if you could but the lump in your throat was still preventing you from speaking.

He began to enter the room, rounding the wall that separated your sleeping area from the rest of your chambers. When he saw you, he called your name again. Receiving no answer, he began to approach you as one would an easily startled animal.

Which, if you were honest, you probably were at that moment.

He continued to walk towards you until he was right at your side. “(y/n)?” he said again, his voice gentle, comforting, loving. He sat down next to you and the mattress dipped with his weight. “(y/n), I’m here. It’s me. Bucky. I’m here. It’s okay; you’re safe now.” He hesitantly reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder.

You flinched at the unexpected contact and your head snapped to the side to look at him, your eyes undoubtedly wild with the fear from the nightmare.

He didn’t jump at your sudden moment but the worry in his eyes only increased.

You scanned his face, taking in every detail. It helped to ground you. His blue eyes seemed purple from the rouge light floating in the room and his skin had turned ghostly. His features were contorted with worry, confusion, and care. He cared about you, wanting to make sure you were okay. He’d dropped whatever he was doing just so he could rush to your side and make sure you were safe. It was the most that anyone had done for you in a long time.

You didn’t realize tears were streaming down your face until Bucky’s large hand cupped your cheek and his thumb wiped the liquid off your skin.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as his thumb traced small circles over your cheek. “It’s alright, I’m here now.”

At that, you broke.

Tears began rolling down your cheeks in an abundance, the torrent never ceasing. You sobbed, and you sobbed, and you sobbed. Silent screams escaped your mouth as you cried into Bucky’s shirt. Your tears soaked his shirt, but you didn’t care. The crying was relieving; you couldn’t remember the last time you just let it all out like this.

Bucky simply held you. His arms had wrapped around you at some point, and he pulled you close into a hug. You were sitting in his lap, his arms were holding you close, and his chin was resting on the top of your head. He was rocking you from side to side as a mother would her child, doing his best to comfort you.

You were surprised at how well it was working. Normally, it would take you hours to calm down, but, with Bucky—with whom you’d only spent a handful of blissful evenings—it was mere minutes.

Soon you were just sitting there, sniffling in his arms.

He pet your hair and continued to rock you, mumbling, “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

You nodded your head, pulling away from him just enough to peer up at his face. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His eyes narrowed at you and his head cocked to the side. “What for?”

“For bothering you.” You dragged the back of your hand across your nose. “And for crying all over you. You shouldn’t have seen me like that.”

“Like what?”

You couldn’t believe he was making you spell it out. “Like a mess. I’m a queen. I’m supposed to be calm and collected and I was sobbing like a baby.” You shook your head with a bitter laugh. “I’m pathetic.”

“No, you’re human.” Bucky brought his hand up under your chin and lifted your head so you were looking at him. “It’s normal to cry and feel sad. It’s normal to be scared. No one is immune to it, not even the badass Queen of the Underworld. Everyone is scared of something.” He tilted his head to the side, his lips quirking up into a gentle smile. “Don’t ever be afraid to be afraid around me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He shifted so you were closer to him on his lap.

Your head once more fit right under his chin. With your ear pressed to his chest, you could hear the faint beating of his heart and you couldn’t help but dwell on how nice this was.

You never got this with Brock. Tender touches didn’t seem to be a part of his vocabulary. But, with Bucky, this felt natural and good. You felt safe in his arms and that was nice.

Bucky allowed you to sit in the silence a bit longer before finally asking, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You hesitated. “Mmm, kind of do, kind of don’t.”

“Which ‘kind of’ is winning?”

Your lips formed a tight line. “Kind of do,” you answered truthfully because you did want to talk about it. Your family had begged you to talk about it for years, insisting that it could help you cope. “It’s therapeutic,” your youngest sister had said. “Mortals do it all the time. Talking about your trauma helps reduce it.”

“I’m not traumatized,” you’d insisted.

But you both knew that was a lie; the nightmares were living proof that your childhood had impacted you in a big and not-so-good way.

Bucky glanced down at you, his own lips forming their own line. “I can listen if you want to talk it out. I’m good at that.”

You breathed a chuckle. “I bet you are.” Letting out a heavy sigh, you peeled yourself out of Bucky’s arms and moved so you were sitting cross-legged on your bed. “You might as well get comfortable; it’s a long-ass story.”

He hardly moved. “I’m ready.”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Alright.” Pausing to take a deep breath, you began with, “My childhood was fucked.”

He snorted.

“Hey, don’t laugh!” You crossed your arms and hunched over in a pout. “I’m trying to share something deeply personal here.”

“I know! I know! I’m sorry. Just, you were so blunt. I was expecting some sort of build up, but you just came out with that and I… I know I shouldn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help it.”

You tried your damnedest to fight the smile that was rising on your own lips, but you failed miserably and found yourself smiling with him. “Get yourself together, Buck. I’m serious here. My childhood definitely falls in one of the bottom three childhoods of all time. The… The myths got it mostly right, but they were always hazy on the details. They said that my father, Kronos, ate me right after I was born; they were wrong.” You lifted your eyes to the ball of red light that was still dancing around your room. “I was seven. Old enough to have some experience, old enough to know that I had parents and that I loved them, but not old enough to understand why my father didn’t love me back. My mother never let me around him; she said he was a bad man. I didn’t understand. How could someone I love be bad? My seven-year-old brain was just barely comprehending the fact that I was going to live forever, I had no ability to process just how bad my father was.

“I knew that he was my father in the way that I knew my mother was my mother. I knew that he was someone important to me, and that I loved him and wanted to please him and make him proud. So, every day, I did my best to be a good kid, to be something he could be proud of. I thought that could make him love me.” You hung your head in shame. “But, no matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough. I didn’t understand why he ate me. I didn’t understand why he hated me so much as to try and kill me. I didn’t know what I did to deserve living in isolation for over a decade in his stomach. There is nothing quite like being totally on your own, Bucky; to not know what you did wrong but to be punished anyway. It does things to your mind and I…”

“You still dream about it, don’t you?” he asked softly. “That’s why you were so scared.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I relived the whole thing again. I’m a grown woman, with more than two thousand years of experience, and I still get spooked by nightmares.”

“Everyone is scared by something,” he murmured. “Your thing is what happened to you in your past.”

“Yeah…” You took a deep breath and pulled your knees up to your chest.

Bucky looked at you, his eyes scanning over your face. Suddenly he stood and rounded the bed to your side. “Come on; let’s go.”

You blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come on!” He offered you his hand. “We’re going out. It’s the best remedy for a nightmare. You get to go around and do things and forget all about the bad dreams.” His smile was warm and filled with promise.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret but,” grinning down at you, he held his hand out further, “do you trust me?”

You stared at his outstretched hand, a small flame igniting inside your chest at the prospect of adventure, and you took it. “I do.”

Next 10: She Sees the World in a New Light

#bucky barnes #pragma(tic)#hades and persephone #hades & persephone #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you

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antoxsmith · 4 years

Text

Toxic (Part 2)

Part 1 / NEGAN MASTERLIST

Warnings - Drama, Heartbreak

Pairings - Negan x Reader

Summary - Negan is as possessive as could be and she thought she was ready to let him go. She was wrong.

A month later, shit happened. The whole thing with Rick’s group initiated and they suspected The Hilltop was compromised. So, he went down to see Gregory himself instead of just sening Simon as always; not even remembering that she was there. He had supposedly forgotten about her existence in a matter of days and as he said, he filled her spot with some other woman.

He was right there in the middle of the field, giving his speech about how he was in charge, making everyone feel uncomfortable with themselves; when he met her eyes. After a second he looked away, ignoring the revolting feeling in his stomach and the race in his chest.

It was when he signaled for Arat to kill someone and gave an example of what happens when you disobey him, that he turned to look at her again. She looked different. Better.

Happier, maybe.

And there he felt it: jealousness. Because he knew that he couldn’t control the fuckers that probably drooled for her every day, not anymore. He couldn’t do anything. He had less control than he used to and it felt… bad.

He was walking back to his RV when he told Simon what to do. Then, he waited. And waited. A little bit more than expected but sooner or later, there she appeared, angry-looking but still, the redness of her cheeks not leaving. He always loved that. Made her look cuter.

“She was resisting. Sorry for the delay.” Simon said as he pushed her inside and shut the door behind him as he left. She brushed off Simon's touch and looked at him dead in the eye.

Negan looked at her with some disdain. He was standing, leaning against the wall of the RV, a glass of whiskey on his hand and Lucille in the other one.

“I told you to get away from me” she started; her voice bulky as it had never been towards him before. Her chin was up, proud and no longer letting him get into her. Or at least, that was the façade.

“Like I care” he answered fast, as if he was already thinking it, studying her face. He took a long sip of his drink, still looking at her and left the glass on the table. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms on her chest.

“I don’t have time for this. What do you want?” she snapped in a serious tone. He actually didn’t know what he wanted, not entirely. He just wanted to see her, to have her close for a little while.

“Come back to The Sanctuary” he said as if it was an order but sounded much more like a request. His eyes screwed into her pupils as if he wanted to get inside her head.

She hid a laugh. “No. Not again.” She simply answered, moving her head no.

He leaned his head to the side and clenched his jaw, leaving Lucille carefully on the table, next to his glass of whiskey. He walked to her, slowly and demanding, quickly invading her personal space as always and getting all in her face. He thought she would look down as she always used to, but she didn’t. She held up her gaze strongly.

“Got a boyfriend, doll?”

She rolled her eyes. ‘Back again with his bullshit’ she said to herself.

“No, Negan. No boyfriend, no friends, nothing. I am completely alone as you wanted. Can I go now?” she stood up to him. She was not afraid anymore, or at least, she didn’t show it. “If you wanted me to stay… you should’ve said it a month ago. Not now.”

Negan bit his lip, looking at her as if she was some piece of meat. “I like it. I knew you had this in you.” He said now coming even closer. He looked down at her lips and chuckled softly, tongue playing with his front teeth seductively.

She wouldn't fall into his little game, not again. Not after all the pain she felt when he just tossed her as if she meant nothing. She furrowed her eyebrows. “See? That’s why I wouldn’t go back.” She simply said, taking a step back, away from him. “You see me as an object and, unlike the others, I don’t like it anymore.”

She felt weird. Her legs felt weak and her heart was beating fast, but she couldn’t show it. If he broke her heart again it would be it. She was sure it would kill her.

His gaze changed. Deep inside, he knew she was right. But no way he would accept that. “You knew what you were,” he said with his jaw tight in angriness from seeing her not fall for it.

“Yeah." She gulped, this was affecting her. "Whatever” she tried to go out but Negan grabbed her forearm, bringing a déjà vu to them both. His hold immediately softened, and brought her close to him.

“Even I knew what you were but I didn’t pay attention to it. That’s why I did all of that crap” he confessed. She looked up to his eyes but no part of her could believe him anymore.

“That’s good. Now…” she moved her arm away from him. “I am going back to where you sent me” she reminded him, turning her back on him again.

“You are more than enough.” He tried again, but now his voice sounded different. Concerned. Regretful, even. She stopped for a second, breathed, and tried her best to remain as cold as she had until now while staring at the door, frozen. She didn’t know what to say, but didn’t have to. She felt Negan’s warm touch on her waist and gasped a little. “Come home. Alright?” He almost whispered into her ear.

She closed her eyes, hearing and feeling in the air the heat emanating off his body and how he came closer to her, his chest pressed on her back after a few seconds. She could hear her own breathing, and his, slow and heavy as if he was trying to remain calm too.

“I… I can’t.” she said lowly, opening her eyes as his other hand closed around her forearm. For a brief moment, she thought about it. Her heart ached and squirmed to the thought of holding him again, running her fingers over his hair as he told her about his day. She missed him so much. He pulled on her forearm slightly, making her turn over, but she didn’t look at him. She looked down in sadness and tried to stop the tears from coming out. Her walls had come down with little to no effort from him and she hate herself for it.

“C’mon, honey.” His hand left her forearm and went up to her chin with softness in every touch. She looked at him, eyes watering and a trace of hurt he didn’t understand but sure as hell make him feel like he was walking shit. “You know you’ve always been my favorite.” He leaned his face to the side, hands not leaving her waist or her chin.

Her lips moved into a grimace of disgust. “I just want to be the only one.” She whispered, holding her eyes on his even as much as she wanted to look down in embarrassment. “For all I k-know,” she was trying really hard not to look too feeble. “You didn’t even remember my existence till you saw me today.”

Negan’s jaw clenched again as he was trying to say what he felt, but nothing came out for far much more time than he wanted. He couldn’t do it. He knew he missed her and looking at her brought him more refreshment into his life than he could hope for, but hell. Leaving all the others for her?

Nope.

Not happening.

She saw how sentences seemed to try to form in his head and just sighed.

“See? I don’t matter enough.” She spat out, making him swallow in… fear? “So no, I am not enough.” Her voice broke in the middle of the sentence and tears started to flow making her feel humiliated. She put her hands on the one he had on her waist, trying to take it off her body with disgust and pain. “Please, Negan just leave me alo-“

“I’m not!” He raised his voice cutting hers off, making her feel little again. Somehow, that made her loose the little bit of control she had over herself. She put her hands on her face quickly, knowing what was coming, and started crying completely torn. His gaze changed and his jaw relaxed. “No, my love, please…” he whispered as if it was hurting him more than her, and pulled her into his chest as his arms went over her body, fingers caressing her back.

She heard the nickname but paid no attention to it, instead, sinking into his leather jacket as she hugged him tightly by his torso. She missed his burning scent around her.

He sighed; eyes set on the RV’s door as he tried to pour the words out of his system. He felt as if he was protecting her from the world right there between his arms, but couldn’t possibly protect her from himself.

How was that possible?

Caring so much and not being able to act like it. A fucking nightmare.

“I just can’t u-understand…” she cried; eyes closed. “Why did you come back? Why? I was alright” she cried more but still didn’t leave her spot right between his arms. “I was alright just like when I was a lieutenant and y-you… you fucked me over, Negan” she continued crying. With every sentence, he felt even worse and something started boiling inside of his stomach. “You knew how bad I felt a-and still didn’t do anything for months” her grip tightened. She wanted to punch him so bad, but instead, her hands clenched into his leather jacket.

He continued on caressing her back, feeling as if he was losing her. “You have to understand that even if I wouldn’t leave them…” he murmured. “…That doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

Her crying slowly calmed down, but didn’t separate. Felt like it was the only place where she could be safe, and oh God, how could he lie with something so serious?

“Please don’t humiliate me more than I already am” she murmured; voice muffled by his jacket. “The last thing I need is you lying to me again.”

Negan bit his lip. He felt as if he was going to explode at any moment.

He separated her from him and held her shoulders softly, searching for her eyes.

“I have to tell y-“

“Please, don’t do this to me” she begged, her puffy eyes telling him she was on the edge.

“Just listen.” He pulled her down into the sofa behind them, making her sit. Once she did, he squatted right in front of her and held her trembling hand. She looked at him with fear, as if he was about to kill her. And actually, he had the power to. “I’ve had you on my mind all these weeks.” He started talking, caressing her hand and hoping to help her calm down. “I lied. There’s no one in your room, in your ‘spot’. I couldn’t do that.” He confessed. “I’m not proud of it, baby. And I certainly am not fucking happy about it. You messed with me too.” He nodded; his voice raspy. “I guess… knowing how unhappy you were by my side, I just felt like anyone could steal you away from me and make you happy. Hell, if they made you smile for more than an hour I would’ve been forgotten.” He explained.

“I would’ve never- “

“Wait. There’s more.”

He sighed, giving her a sad side smile as he did.

“I miss the shit out of you just… close to me. I miss being able to go into your room at night, and I miss that cute little redness in that face of yours.” He smiled wide, making his dimples show as he touched the tip of her nose with the tip of her index finger, making her chuckle with sparkling eyes. “I missed that chuckle you have, and that spark in your eyes when you look at me. I'll tell you this, doll. No one else looks at me like that. No. One.” He stated.

“You know I miss you too.” She said the obvious and rolled her swollen eyes playfully at the look of pleasure on his face. He entwined his fingers with hers, making her smile softly.

“Oh, yes. I do know that.” He chuckled. “But anyway, little one…” He continued. “I know I can’t give you what you truly want, but….”

“I could manage the other wives... I think. I am not sure, but...” She murmured, making him raise one eyebrow. “I just can’t manage your jealousness. And all of that painting me as some… bitch, that will fuck anything that moves.”

He sighed and moved his head from left to right. “You’ve always been so loyal to me. Even as a lieutenant, you couldn’t stop marveling me. Always so… on top of it all.” He laughed a bit. “Always coming to me when anything happened.” He smiled. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me, baby.”

And he knew it now more than before. He had kept an eye on her. And he knew as a fact that some men had tried, but she never accepted anything. She demonstrated her loyalty. He smiled softly and stood up, then sitting next to her without leaving their entwined fingers. She sighed and looked at him with a little smile, and he took it as permission to come closer to her, that look of sexual appetite turning on by the second.

“Then, will you stop?” She whispered, eyes going down to his lips for a second.

He looked down at her lips too, and slowly closed the space between the two, his free hand coming up to her neck, holding her with softness as he kissed her sweetly, his beard grazing her skin. She stayed frozen for a brief moment, but then corresponded, her lips trembling. She was falling again. She knew how wrong it was but now… it felt so good to finally have his warm lips against hers again.

After a few seconds, he separated just a few centimeters.

“So, you’re coming home with daddy?”

Part 3 Coming Soon!

#negan #negan x y/n #negan x oc #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x original female character #twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead negan #writing #write #fanfic #negan fanfiction #negan fic

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