#but he never seems to have enough EVIDENCE

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #aj writes #park jongseong smut #the doll house #enhypen fic

[teeskz]

“you really should learn when to shut up.”

• synopsis: what happens when you finally get underneath your insufferable tutor’s skin? (MDNI!!)

• warnings: mean!wonwoo, throat fuck oral (m.), fingering, dacryphilia

• wc: 1300

nothing could’ve prepared wonwoo for this outcome. normally a man of patience and understanding, he didn’t even think he had it in him to lash out this way.

but dammit, if you hadn’t made it so fucking difficult for him. maybe you wouldn’t be crying like how you are now; your usual pretty, clear eyes now turned to a glazy red, wetness spewing from the corners.

it shouldn’t turn him on as hard as it does seeing you this way. it shouldn’t be the single, driving force that’s keeping him in motion, rocking his hips in and out of your mouth till you’re practically kissing his pelvis.

“i didn’t….want to- do this.” wonwoo could hardly finish that sentence before a whine, courtesy of you, buzzes down his length and straight into his stomach, causing him to scrunch his fingers deep into your hair.

what he said was true, though. he’d only been here to help you as your tutor, to make sure you pass your class. that is his job, after all. he would have never wanted the circumstance to turn out as it had, however, it was evident someone needed to teach you some damn manners.

your crass attitude. disrespecting those older than you. your terribly fouled mouth. he wonders how you even made it this far with your apparent horrid personality. but what infuriated him most about you, was the god awful complaining.

it’s like it was a feature embedded in you. anytime you were asked to do something by him, you just had to come back with retorts.

“i don’t wanna do this.” you’d state.

“this is boring.” you sighed.

“i’m over it.” you’d throw your pencil down.

“wonwoo-yah, you’re not explaining this good enough.” you would look at him with a judgmental gaze, establishing that it’s essentially his fault you weren’t understanding the concept.

it was a weekly occurrence, and by far tonight was the worst of it. you must’ve had a sour attitude prior to the session, which would explain your snappier replies and quicker insults.

wonwoo thought he could bypass it. he figured since it’s only an hour and a half of his evening spent with you, he could suck up his displeasures for now, then have the rest of the weekend to recuperate before dealing with your ass again on monday.

but the complaining never stopped. no, it seemed to worsen this time around.

"this is so fucking dumb.” you muttered, though made sure it was loud enough for him to hear. he had assigned you an excerpt over the analysis of algorithms.

wonwoo kept his eyes on the book he was reading, true irritation etched into his face, "would it kill you to stop complaining?"

"i'll stop complaining once i get an actual semi-decent tutor." you countered and looked up rather harshly at him.

“yeah, as if anyone else could put up with your annoying self.” he still wasn’t looking at you, yet that caught your attention.

“all you ever do is a shove a book in my face and expect me to read it,” as if to prove your point, you had roughly pushed the hardcover out of your way and over to him, “here, how about you read it this time. should help with your already shitty teaching skills.”

the corner of it had hit wonwoo’s arm and in that moment he saw red. he threw his own book down and whipped over towards you, “can you not act like a fucking brat for two seconds? jesus, you’re always fussing about something, y/n and it’s starting to get pathetic.”

eyes wide, you parroted him, “pathetic?”

he locked into your gaze, not once breaking the contact, “you complain all the time and throw tantrums when something gets a little too hard. it’s not only pathetic, but sad too.”

he saw a wave of emotions wash over your face, his own not extinguishing any time soon. could that have been a little too harsh? yeah, maybe. but he was so fed up, he couldn’t even care. but you were pissed too.

“you wanna know what’s really pathetic?” you started, voice lower than it had been all night, “having grade a, untouched, loser jeon wonwoo as my tutor. that’s pathetic. and quite embarrassing, if i’m being honest. it makes me sick.”

wonwoo’s taken aback by your words, his jaw hardening with slow breaths emitting, “shut up.”

“oh should i?” with pure venom dripping, you even lean forward a bit in a mocking stance, wanting him to hear every, single word you were about to say, “and what are you going to do?”

after that, he truly didn’t know what came over him.

“are you still sick, y/n?” he feigns sincerity, eyes squeezing shut as he loses himself in his arousal, “you’re the one taking a loser’s cock like a good whore, who would’ve thought.”

you’re gargling around his dick, a froth of spit and juices mixing to seep out the sides of your mouth and onto him. you can hardly breathe, he’s gagging you so hard.

it’s borderline sadistic what he’s doing to you. he isn’t sure when the last time you came up for air was, and the supposed whining he thought you were producing had actually turned out to be sobs.

“do you need a quick breather?” he hums, a part of him realistically wanting to disregard that and make you suffer till the end. but with a rapid head nod from you, he decidedly gives in and detaches himself.

once freed, you gasp greatly for air while a wail leaves your throat. more tears stream down your face as he glances below him to fully take in your state. puffy face, crinkled eyes, disgusting drool falling off of your chin. you’re a product of his mess.

“are you crying like this because i haven’t touched you?” he says, dropping to his knees and becoming level with you, “my god you’re needy, i haven’t gotten off yet and you’re already concerned about yourself.”

you don’t even get a chance to refute before he’s widening the band of your pants, then going in to shove a hand in your underwear. immediately he’s met with slickness coating the tips of fingers as he just barely curls them into your flesh.

“gah! wonwoo-” you reach up to hold onto his shoulder for support when he sinks his hand further into your lips, them wrapping around and taking the pressure just right. it feels delicious.

“your cunt feels so warm, y/n. you almost make me want to stick my cock in it rather than your mouth.” he’s continuously pushing himself in and out of you, your pussy squishing to the rhythm.

with each motion, you feel your body hiking up and contracting, more whimpers toppling from your mouth. your core’s buzzing from the sensation and now you start to feel yourself chasing the high, grinding your slit deeper and harder against his fingers. but, wonwoo starts to notice that too. and he disapproves of this.

“wait…you thought i would let you finish before me? after that bratty attitude?” coldness rushes to your cunt as he releases his fingers from you, and once more a sob escapes from your throat, “i thought i’d be nice, but you’re far too greedy for that.”

he forces your hand off of his shoulder as he goes to stand back up, his still hard cock now face to face with you. you feel yourself get choked up.

he grips himself then goes to poke your mouth with his head, “come on. time for you to open up.”

you’re being resistant, keeping your lips sealed, but soon he’s able to break through with a particularly strong thrust. your eyes go black as he hits the back of your throat with a whine.

“remember, you made me do this,” wonwoo can already feel his creamy ropes leaking from his tip, ready for another round right after this, “you really should learn when to shut up.”

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #teeskz #kpop drabbles #kpop smut

[bitterchocoo]

My first time requesting but I need a part 2 of Kilmer where aventurine adopts the reader (somehow) or gets the reader away from that awful man 🤕 angst with comfort and a bit of fluff in the end if its possible, Thank you!! :) (P.S. I love your works!!)

Shama

Aventurine | Child M. Reader (Platonic)

Part One | Part Two (You're here)

----------

"It's an all-or-nothing surrender!"

----------

No matter how many days, weeks, months have passed. The sight of that serial number on the neck of a young child has sear itself into Aventurine's mind. Images of his own past flashes before his eyes. Those times, those things he went through.. the thought of someone else going through the same thing at such a young age. Sends a chill down his spine.

Every time he ever met the man for business, his gaze would linger on the child much longer than the man he was having business with. That blank expression, those expensive and luxurious clothing on him. Like a little trophy. Just for show. A way for his caretaker--no.. owner to say "Hey! Look at this shiny new toy I got! Isn't he pretty?" Put in a glass box, a collection, a doll being stored on a shelf.

Every time he has to meet up with the man, Aventurine makes sure that he brings gifts. He doesn't mind buying gifts for clients. It's nothing really. Anything to make [Name]'s life more bearable... but his main concern, his main target is the trophy, the doll, the child, [Name]. And evert time he gave [Name] a gift, it's always met by complete silence and subtle glances directed to his owner. As if asking permission to take it.

"See this? This is a limited type of confectionery that everyone in the galaxy simply adores. There are only sixteen slices sold every day. Here, why don't you have a taste?" Aventurine says, his hand gestures towards a plate of slice cake. A very popular, very delicious dessert. One that he hopes the child would take it. [Name] glances over to his master, as if he's silently asking if he could, which earned him a firm nod. "Go ahead, it's rude to not accept gifts."

After contemplating over it, [Name] took a seat next to Aventurine, his hand reaching out towards the dessert plate, with his other hand the child use the utensil to eat his dessert. It was simply divine. It's no wonder this cake is a favorite of the people in the galaxy. [Name] had never tried anything this wonderful before.

The subtle light in the child's dull eyes make Aventurine smile widens.

Anything to make [Name]'s life more bearable.

----------

But even so, these gifts could only do so much.. he needs a plan. A permanent one. But it seems... he doesn't need to think of that anymore...

The "lifeless doll" had taken care of it.

Aventurine merely stare with widen eyes as the boy stood there in front of all of them with handcuffs on his wrist, the usually clean and tidy suit he wore is now messy with wrinkles and splashes of fresh blood, his neat hair now in shambles as he look at them through his hair strands with dull eyes.

As if what he had done didn't face him one bit.

It was a banquet, a normal banquet, nothing special, another day, another business. The waiters and waitresses handing drinks and foods to every patron. A normal business event.

And yet..

It had end in a massacre.

The trial went on and on. the trial took way too long for comfort, for every evidence and every alibi... the child is proven innocent. It took what felt like an eternity to finally gathered enough proof for him to be proven guilty. And yet..

The IPC showed him mercy. Finding it to be such a shame to lose such an asset. The length this boy went through, not breaking character as he slowly make his plan come into fruition.

This "lifeless doll" isn't as lifeless as he make himself to be.

For someone as young as him.. to be able to make elaborate plans and following it through till the end.. and creating evidence and alibies to prove himself innocent, whether if it's fabricated or not...

He's a mastermind.

And the IPC can't simply let such a valuable asset to simply.. cease to exist.

.

.

.

But that smile soon disappears once he heard the sound of someone entering the room, a man that he's well familiar with. There's no mistaken those eyes. He then approached [Name] before kneeling down in front of him.

At a vacant room, [Name] sat on the edge of the bed looking blankly at the wall in front of him, his gaze sometimes shifted between the wall and his still blood stained hands, along with the handcuffs on his wrists. The sight of it could make anyone feel uneasy and squeamish. But to him.. it brought a sense of satisfaction as a ghost of a smile made it's way onto his face. For his plan had come to fruition.

Giving him a sense of comfort he never thought he could ever feel.

"The IPC has pardon your crimes, but of course that still didn't erase the fact you had slaughtered a whole banquet of people... I'm afraid you have to work hard in order to clear your name.."

A soft and warm smile adorn on his expression as he stretch out a hand towards the younger. "In the meantime, you'll be under my care.."

"...Malachite."

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x male reader #x male reader #x reader #platonic

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Healer Pt 4

The story continues. I'm still enjoying this one, so we'll keep going!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 linked here. (If I get to 5+ parts I'll make a master post)

Enjoy!

___________________________

ONE YEAR EARLIER

“Natalie! You’re here!”

Jack shouted with excitement when he saw me. Garrett and Rita trailed behind him, their expressions happy, if a bit mild and unenthused. I was still sitting on the ground, catching my breath after my first battle in this strange world. The corpses of the monster flowers had faded into the grass, leaving little evidence of my fight behind. I waved to them, feeling a strong sense of relief in seeing familiar faces.

The three of them had been my teammates in Fantasy Realm, even if they weren’t the kindest people I had ever known. While playing together they were often inpatient with me, unforgiving of mistakes, and constantly pushing me to spend more time and money improving my character when they knew I had very little of both. I had always given in, and disliked myself for doing so, hoping it would improve their opinion of me, knowing deep down it wouldn’t. I might call them friends… and I would be shocked if they called me the same.  But after waking up in this weird real world of the game, I was just happy to know anyone at all.

I was afraid to be alone.

The group reached me, and with a grin, Jack reached out and helped me to my feet. I brushed the dust off of myself and looked them over. They all looked like they had in our old world, the only difference was their clothing. Jack was dressed in leather armor, reinforced my metal along the chest and back. Garrett had a large sword strapped across his back, with scant coverings over the rest of his enormous frame. Rita had a simple cloth robe and a large wooden bow.

“We all chose our familiar classes.” Jack saw my studying look and informed me. “Seemed the safest thing to do given that we don’t know what happens if you die in here.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you guys are taking this seriously! This can’t be real. We're still in the game! It’s just some hoax, someone hacked the game. Eventually my dad will tear the VR company apart, sue them into oblivion and then we’ll be let out!”

I paused at that. “We weren’t playing the game when this happened though.”

“We just forgot.” She answered forcefully, her gaze annoyed as usual as she met my own.

Rita had always disliked me. Our parents knew each other, her father was a well-known lawyer who had pushed her to follow in his footsteps. As someone who had struggled with the weight of parents’ expectations, I sympathized. But she had quit law school after a week, turning to full time gaming instead. She didn’t do well enough to make any money, but fortunately her mother paid her bills.

Her father was disapproving to say the least. He apparently used me as an example to her of someone successfully “taking over the family business,” never mind that I hated the pressure, resented my parents’ strict expectations and escaped whenever possible. It didn’t matter. Rita despised me, and no attempts from myself or from Jack could smooth the rift between us.

Garrett looked me over from head to toe, confused. “You don’t have a weapon.”

I froze at his words. Garrett had a large sword, obviously a barbarian type class. Jack had a one-handed sword, a fighter or swordsman. Rita was an archer with her bow. But me…

There was only was class in the game that couldn’t use weapons.

“No…” Rita started laughing, so hard that tears were forming in her eyes. “No… you DIDN’T do something so STUPID….!”

Garrett was shaking his head, frowning disapprovingly. I ignored them, my entire attention was on Jack. We had been friends since freshman year of college. He had helped me find my first class, I tutored him in chemistry. We had supported each other through ups and downs, told each other about our fears and dreams…  

And he was looking at me with hatred in his eyes.

“You are a Healer.” His voice was quiet, but the lack of emotion in his tone made my hackles raise. I started to back away.

“Jack… I…”

His hand gripped my throat, and I was lifted off the ground. I gasped, unable to get air, and struggled against him, but with a strength stat of -10 I knew there wasn’t much hope. I wouldn’t be able to cast my healing spells either, without being able to speak the activation word.

I need to be able to cast without speaking. My brain focused on that, almost desperately avoiding dealing with the situation I was currently in: My friend was killing me.

**The Healer enters an early hypoxic state - 10 damage for each second that airway compression remains in place. **

**The Healer takes 10 damage. **

I had only seconds to live.

** The Healer takes 10 damage**

I grabbed his hand, focusing all my desperation into the need to cast my only spell: Small Incision.

** Through sheer force of will, The Healer has discovered Wordless Incantation**

**The Healer casts Small Incision. Jack the Hero takes 1 damage.**

As the messages floated across my vision, Jack yelped in pain, clutching his bleeding hand, dropping me to the ground. I laid still for a few moments, focusing on breathing, the pain of my neck and in my lungs a reminder of what had just occurred. I stared up at Jack, hoping to see remorse on his face.

There was nothing but rage.

“How DARE you pick a useless class like healer?” He snarled, holding pressure on his hand to stop the bleeding while staring down at me. “Our lives could depend on doing well in this game, and you seriously chose a class with minimal fighting potential, whose healing abilities are worse than any potion that can be purchased in a shop?”

He stepped closer, and I flinched back, my heart beating wildly. “You are so obsessed with your parents’ disapproval, that even in a life-or-death situation you had to pick being a doctor? Are you really so messed up?”

I opened my mouth to explain. I knew this class well, the strengths and weaknesses. I could use it to the team’s benefit. I had been a good teammate, one of the reasons we had placed so highly in the last tournament. I wanted to say all this and more.

But as I stared into the disappointment in his eyes, I felt myself slipping into old habits. Of staying quiet and nodding. Of keeping the peace and letting myself take the blame. I hated it, despised myself for it… but kept silent all the same.

“Should we just leave her behind?” Rita asked, giving no concern to me as I struggled to catch my breath after Jack’s strangling attempt. “She’s useless after all.”

“She used to provide good support.” Garrett spoke up. “We can keep her on the team until we find someone more useful…”

“I am not giving a spot on our team to a healer.” Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his temples for a moment, as if trying to calm himself down. Finally, he looked down at me coldly. “You can tag along with our team, without an official spot. You will do your best to be useful. Otherwise, we will leave you to die.”

Leave them! My heart screamed at me. Being alone is better than this! You didn’t commit some great sin by becoming a Healer! You just chose the best you could! Tell them!

Slowly, I nodded. “Fine.” My voice was still hoarse from the pressure he had placed on my throat. I adjusted my tone with the ease and familiarity of practice. “I’ll follow along.” I pushed the screaming voice in my head back, along with my pride. I knew I was worthless, a failure. I had been told that every day by the two people on the planet who were supposed to love me the most. Jack was only the latest person to say it out loud.

This was what I deserved.

The first month passed quickly. We went on multiple quests together, and settled into a comfortable rhythm. Jack would take the lead, with Garrett beside him to tank. Rita picked off far away opponents, and supported from the back. And I…

I did everything I could.

Outside of fights, I was cooking, keeping inventory, asking for quest information, and keeping the gear repaired and functional. Many nights I stayed up late, sharpening swords or repairing gear, only to have my hard work receive a nod and no other recognition.

In fights, I demanded even more of myself. Slipping in between enemies, causing damage. I delved down most of the “surgical” pathway of the healer ability, which allowed me to cause a diverse array of damage. I built up my MP until I could activate Wordless Incantation, as I found the group's irritation was a lot less if they couldn’t hear me. I immobilized enemies and allowed the others to finish them off. Because I had a hand in almost every single enemy’s death, I received a good amount of XP and fame from each fight, which angered Jack to no end.

“Stop stealing our experience!” He snapped after a fight, reading the notification that stated the rewards and experience given out.

“You asked me to immobilize them.” I answered quietly, feeling tired. “Do you want me to stop?”

“…” He glared at me silently for a few moments before answering. “Figure out a way to do it without taking my XP.”

“…sure.”

“I mean it, Healer.” From the moment he heard my class, he had never called me by my name. Our friendship, the time we had spent together… none of it meant anything next to the weight of the one undeniable fact:

I was a Healer. And therefore, in his eyes, I was a burden.

I kept my head down, trying to help out as much as possible. I learned not to ask for recognition. To not expect thanks. And I thought things would never change.

And then came the day we met Winter.

________________

PRESENT DAY

“Ouch!” Stephanie yelped as I carefully placed the needle through her skin, placing a simple suture across the wound on her calf. I didn’t hesitate with her cry of pain, tying the knot and moving on to the next stitch.

“The area has been numbed with magic, don’t pretend it hurts.”

“Yeah, I was just messing with you.” Stephanie laughed stuck her tongue out. “How did you know?”

“Because I know how it feels to sew my wounds shut without the local anesthesia spell.” I kept working without looking up. “You wouldn’t just be saying ‘ouch.’”  

“Uh…Well, thank you.”

I felt surprised at her words. After a year with the Hero’s party, I was so used to doing things without any gratitude or recognition. You’re not with them anymore. I let out a mental sigh of relief at the thought, and smiled at Stephanie. “You’re welcome.”

“YOU SMILED!” Stephanie tried to get up to hug me, but Alton reached over from where he was sewing cloth nearby and pushed her back down, shaking his head with a grin.

“Don’t interrupt her work.” Winter’s response was much colder, causing Stephanie to freeze in place.

“I’m on the last one anyways.” I squared off the last knot on the suture, cutting the tails and placing a clean bandage over my work. “Keep it dry for 48 hours, and then you can remove the outer covering and bathe.”

“Not to cheapen all the work you just put into repairing this cut for me…” Stephanie hesitated. “But wouldn’t a healing potion be easier?”

Alton shook his head, but before he could say anything Winter spoke up. “Stupid human.”

“HEY! I’m not stupid!” She glanced at me. “Right?”

“No, you’re not.” Raising an eyebrow at Winter, who settled down with a grunt, I continued. “Have you noticed that over time you’ve had to use more powerful healing potions?”

She thought that over. “Well, yeah, but… I’m higher level, and have more HP… Isn’t that normal?”

“Have you tried to use a basic potion recently?” I pulled one out, and tossed it to her. “Here.”

Stephanie caught it, clearly confused. “I’m only missing 5 HP… I don’t need something that heals 10…”

“Try it.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “If you insist…” She drank the potion quickly, and then flinched at the notification. “…It didn’t work? … Not even the cut healed.” 

Alton continued to sew, but spoke up. “The more you use healing potions, the less they work. Fortunately, this seems limited to healing potions… mana recovery and other types of potions such as detoxification seem to not develop the same resistance. It’s also a slow process, but it’s becoming a universal issue. If you check the world chat this is a heated topic of discussion. Most people believe the that it’s related to level… but that’s not the case.”

“How do you know that?”

“They still work on me.” I answered quietly. “That’s why I carry the basic ones around.”

“Foolish humans… these potions were meant for true lifesaving emergencies… a basic healing potion should be enough to recover up to 50% of your health… but you drink them like water until they are worthless to you.” Winter sighed, looking over at me with a small smile. “That is why the Healers are such a vital class. In a world of constant danger and battle, of destruction and pain, only they have the power to heal and preserve. They are a noble, selfless light that protects those around them… someone to be protected at all costs. There should be a Healer in every party… but instead Nat is the only one left.”

“You did save me before!” Stephanie did get up unobstructed and hugged me. “Thank you!”

“And me.” Winter added, staring at the ground. “She saved me as well.”

“Hey, I distinctly remember passing out in front of her and being saved too, guys!” Alton spoke up, tying up his thread and checking the repair on his cape before looking at me. “I guess we are all indebted to you.”

I stared at all of them, feeling disturbed in my heart. “You guys… I’m…”

I’m worthless. Weak. And my weakness was used to destroy countless lives.

“… Thank you.” I silenced the words in my heart, and spoke a simple thanks instead.

“…” Winter was staring. I always felt he could see more than I wanted him too, as if my hidden thoughts and feelings were on display in front of him. But instead of commenting, he simply bent down, plucking a blue flower from the ground, and handed it to me.

“That’s so cute!” Stephanie clapped her hands, before freezing. “Wait! Are you two…?”

Alton paused in packing up his things and stared in our direction.

I shook my head silently at her before turning back to Winter. “Thank you. The mountain wild flower’s petals have strong anti-inflammatory properties. I’ll dry it out and process it for medication at our next stop." I pressed the flower carefully in one of my books and packed it away.

Winter nodded at my words. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s for medicine?” Stephanie frowned, disappointed. “Well, that’s boring. Where’s my drama?!”

Alton smiled widely. “Oh, don’t worry, I got your drama! Look in the world chat!”

Pausing, all of us pulled up the chat, excluding Winter, who leaned on a tree nearby and watched the display over my shoulder. The top topic in the chat was skyrocketing with engagement… and seeing the title it wasn’t hard to understand why:

___________________________

“TROUBLE IN PARADISE? HERO’S PARTY SEEN ARGUING WITH NEW MEMBER REBECCA THE SORCERESS! IS THE USELESS HEALER MISSED?”

There was great discussion today among players as a loud disagreement broke out among the Hero’s Party after their last quest line. Although it is unknown the exact nature of it, it seems to be surrounding the recent addition to the party.  Rebecca the Sorceress is the newest member of the Hero’s Party after the departure of the much-despised Healer. Many had cheered her arrival, as well as supporting the apparent budding relationship between the Hero and his new magical lady.

___________________________

“And you guys ask why I think humans are stupid.” Winter muttered as he read along with me. I shushed him and continued on with the post.

___________________________

But is there a fracture in the once iron-strong team? Words such as “Useless,” “Hiding” and “Potion sponge” were heard shouted by Rita the Holy Archer, with the Hero defending and Garrett the Giant siding beside Rita. Rebecca appeared to be in tears. Is this bullying the newcomer? Is Rebecca actually dragging the team down? What does this mean for the plans to attack the forty second gate in a few days?

Discuss your thoughts below!

___________________________

I sighed and closed the chat, seeing that comments were mostly just going back and forth over the juicy gossip. “What a mess.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” Alton commented with a grin.

“No. I’m not. Rebecca… she’s…”

“Useless?” Stephanie interjected.

“Full of tears and excuses?” Was Alton’s contribution.

“A snake who poisons those foolish enough to trust it.” Winter quietly added.

I laughed. “… I was going to say she’s a lot of drama… but I like your answers better. They are used to a certain standard of having everything done for them, even if I backed off quite a bit towards the end, when things had gotten really bad. I don’t think Rebecca will see my role within the group as appealing, though.”

“Oh well, their loss is our gain!” Stephanie cheered, hugging me again. “Let’s go hunting! I want meat for dinner!” She pulled out her sword excitedly.

“Yes, Natalie should have some meat to help her recover from all the battles we’ve been through.” Winter nodded, checking his bow and following.

Alton stood up and looked over at me. “Meat for dinner doesn’t sound bad… what do you think, Ms. Healer? Do you want to go hunting?”

“I don’t want to ruin their fun…” I started to say, looking at the backs of the two already moving ahead.

Alton’s voice was serious. “No. I’m not asking about them. I’m asking what YOU want to do.”

I paused, and my gaze met his own. After a few moments, I smiled. “Meat sounds great for dinner.” And I meant it.

“Then let’s go hunting with them.”  Was his answer.

And hunting we went.

With only two days left before we would face the forty-second gate.

#writing #fantasy #the healer #violence #magic #video game like world #betrayal #friends

[j4ygyu]

all i want is you | pjs

pairing: loverboy!jay x reader

genre: angst, fluff

summary: idk how to summarize this🙏🏻

<a/n> little women reference used cope w it 🤣

you hear it, the teasing glances and the whispers as you walk around the school. it’s been like this ever since jay, the popular guy at school had asked you out about 2 months ago during valentines. 

“hey look it’s your girlfriend” you hear it very clearly, but you know what they want, they want a reaction out of you. 

you still turn your head to the side to look and jay seems.. embarrassed? sad? you weren’t good at reading people so you never tried that hard either. 

there wasn’t anything negative about you or your looks, it was just the people around you who did not value you. but sometimes you did tend to forget and let your emotions control you.

same way, 2 months ago when jay had asked you out, private proposal. it was pretty unusal to you, you thought it was some kind of prank, you still do, like some kind of bet. 

so you just stared into his soul that day, without responding you nervously just bowed at him and excused yourself. 

few other students saw and reported it to their friends and slowlt by the next day, the rumor spread like a wildfire.

yes jay’s ego was hurt, you expected him to look down at you after that day but later on he just showed up with “i will win you.”

maybe he watched a movie and got motivated off it? 

you did like him back, no doubt in that but all your life you’ve felt like you were in a competition and always losing it so you just let things be. 

there was someone else who wanted him, some other of your classmate, yunjin.

so you just did not want to be in all this drama, yunjin already despised you, you did not want to make things worse. 

you head back to class as soon as recess is over, ignoring all the whispers and the look of envy you recieve from yunjin.

“what is going on?” wincing in pain as yunjin pushes you onto some wall with a sudden question.

“what the fuck do you want?” you ask back as she laughs at your face “i thought i told you to stay away from jay?” you could’ve fought back to get out of her grip, but come on she had two girls behind her making sure nobody sees. 

“i did, we haven’t spoken in a while” you say as you grab her hand harshly and pull it away “and, don’t touch me.” 

the sternness in your voice intimidated her, you could tell by the way she was gulping, even though you appeared weak you still were strong enough to fight back so they could not do much.

“then why the fuck is a rumor about jay dropping all his friends for you going on?” she says as you look at her, not even surprised cause you were already done with this school and it’s rumors. 

she steps back “god have you like casted a spell on him? why the fuck does he even want you?” looking at you in disbelief if you have caused it.

shrugging, “don’t know and don’t care” you say as yunjin tries to trap you between her and the wall again but the teacher calls out

‘what are you girls doing? get to class right now’

she gives you the dirtiest smirk known to man kind as you stare into her soul back with a poker face, not feeding onto her little trick. 

deciding to talk it out with jay, during second break you visit him near the playground area.

“why would you choose me when you can have her? i mean she has everything i don’t” oh the way jay could answer this in a paragraph.

“she has everything but she is not you okay? she is a piece of shit who goes around and bullies people, just like she has bullied you your entire life at school” you can audibly hear breaths leaving his mouth, desperation of wanting you really evident now.

your gazes piecered each other’s souls, staring deeply, somewhere deep down you knew there was some spark as your chest tightened oh how bad i want you jay.

“you’re what everyone wants jay. i am someone they spit on and walk past. nobody wants us together.” you confessed absentmindedly. 

“why do you care about what they think?” he asked, “its always been like that, you were a bystander too before you liked me” he lowers his head out of embarrassment.

knowing there is nothing more to add in to the arguement, you slide your hands in the pockets of your uniform skirt and walk away.

little did you both know, yunjin was eavesdropping everything and rage of jealousy filled her making her undereye twitch.

class dismissed.

it is finally the end of the day, the bell rings as the sounds of everyone packing their bags fill your ears. 

jay’s class was right infront of yours, but unfortunately yunjin was still in your class so you just couldn’t avoid her for some reason, knowing you’re under her sight almost all the time. 

she walks out first as you go extra slow, too tired for anything. 

out of luck, no body stops you to tease you today, everyone annoying out of your sight. 

walking down the alley as everyone else, it was almost empty and not crowded as usual, as you realise you came out late. shit what was i dreaming about.

something captures your eyes, but you were captured someone’s eyes way long before you noticed, it was yunjin, she saw you walking back home to school and grabbed the opportunity out of her luck that jay was walking back too at the same time. 

“oh- jayie” she calls out for him as he diverts his attnetion to her now raising his eyebrows, “can i have some water.” she asks faking tiredness.

jay cringes at her but still reaches for his side pockets of his bag. 

as he is doing that, yunjin watches carefully as you walk closer, minding ur own business.

thats it as soon as jay looks back up yunjin pushes him to the nearest wall holding him by his tie and kisses him. 

she kisses him so hungrily, ignoring his pushes, finally jay gives her one sudden push that makes her lose her balance and fall over “dude what the fuck?”

“did she see it?” she thinks to herself directly looking back at you as she sees you standing there, amused and disappointed. 

jay looks at yunjin but realizes that she is looking somewhere else, his gaze follows her as his mind freezes for a short second. 

you slowly meet his eyes, he could feel the rage in your eyes, your face completely showing numb as turn your eyes back to your path and continue walking. 

you walked as fast as you could avoiding him calling out your name, running behind you. 

jay thought to himself, this is the most of my desperation i can show. mix of anger, love and worry on his face. 

“just stop jay.” 

both of you stop in your tracks as he pants swiping his sweat off, bending down taking supporting of his knee. 

he uses all his energy to keep his head high, it was like your and his eyes were magnets, once attached you could physically feel the burden of breaking it. 

“why don’t you get it? just leave me!” you scream from a distance at the top of your lungs, catching your breath as soon as you were done with your words. 

your feet faces back to your path as you continue walking fast, you could hear his footsteps fastening again, you did not quit either as you start running back

“i have loved you ever since i’ve known you y/n why dont you get it”his voice ringed in your ears as you cried after each word, eyes getting teary and blurry. 

that’s when you gave up and lost it all, crying right there on the spot. “what jay?” you ask as you shut close your eyes, your lips trembling and so were the words.

he didn’t stop, continued to approach you and close the distance, shaking you by the shoulder, even though the action seemed harsh it felt so soft, “why don’t you just accept this? why don’t you just accept me? what do i lack?”

what do i lack. 

someone so perfect like him had feelings like that too, about a total complete loser like you? after all he was just a person, just like you. 

you opened your eyes, your eyes met his as the world went quiet, his narrowed eyes staring at you, the tension in the air mixed with all your emotions crashing with each other. 

both of you taking deep breaths and panting hard, feeling the heat radiating off each other, “i gave up everything you didn’t like, cant you see? i’m happy i did its fine and i waited and i will wait and i never complained..

and i-“

you kiss his lips to shut him up, the sensation in his heart goes crazy as you feel his muscles go loose, knees bucking as sense of weakness. 

you hold his face, sharp bones of his jawline and cheekbones right in contact with your palm, he was so warm. his lips were like pillows, so soft.

his head spins around, incapable of coping with the moment. you pull back

“you know i figured you’d love me y/n.” he says without thinking as if he was on auto pilot 

“oh god how much i love you” you kiss his lips once again grabbing his collar to pull him closer.

you couldn’t hold onto it any longer maybe this is what everythings meant to be. 

#enhypen fluff #park jongseong #enhypen x reader #enha #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #jay fluff

[awakenedevildays]

"you should move in with me" Art's voice echoes off the bathroom walls, it's all so relaxing: the heat of the water around your bodies, his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around you are so comfortable that it takes a while for you to realize what he just said.

"what?"

"you heard me" he murmurs against your neck "come live with me" an incredulous laugh leaves your mouth and you try to turn completely towards him, but his arms clench tighter around you and prevent you from moving enough to do so.

"may I ask why you are asking this now?" you move slightly to the side to see his face emerging from the hollow of your neck.

"I feel like we're ready to do it" his eyes avoid yours and focus instead on his fingers as they start caressing your shoulder "and it's also the next logical step in our relationship."

"You think so?" this time, despite Art's protests, you turn towards him: your breasts press against the boy's chest and his eyes fall down quickly before being brought back to yours by the hand under his chin. The tease is evident on your face and Art feels his ears warm up quickly to the realization of being caught in the act.

"I know so" and kisses the smile off your lips to distract you.

"My answer is not a no, but how do we know that our relationship is ready for this?" you ask him and, without realizing it, the agitation inside you rises: how did you know if you were ready for this step? and if you break up because you went too fast?

The tennis player frowns "what do you mean?" and the sight in front of you distracts you for a second: Art sits back against the back of the tub to stand more upright and listen to you better, his arms, after moving his curly damp hair out of his face, leans on the edges of the tub, his wet and smooth chest shines and his legs are open and bent to the sides to give you more space between them. If you weren't so determined to finish the topic you were having, you'd kiss him to death, but you're a woman on a mission and you can't get distracted.

"I mean, some of my behaviors might irritate you or we might fight about serious things and then we wouldn't be able to run away from our problems by going back to our apartment, we'd have to deal with these situations and be mature about what bothers us and-"

"love, you're getting worked up over nothing" he says and his expression relaxes into a smile: now that he understood that your reasons are motivated only by insecurity and not by the fact that you don't want to take the next step with him, he feels it will be easier to convince you otherwise.

"You see? this is exactly what I'm talking about! if we move in together we can't belittle each other's feelings and concerns like this. It wouldn't be healthy and-"

"love," he interrupts you again, and your hands that were gesturing in the air fall on his chest, your eyes avoid his.

Out of your mouth comes a small "…yes?" that makes the man in front of you chuckle.

"we're ready" his calm tone makes its way into your chest "we're 24 years old and we've been together since we were 19, we both have a steady job and we already know everything about each other, there's nothing you can tell me that will change my mind".

"what if we fight?"

"I can't promise you we won't fight, we fight even now that we don't live together, but it seems to me that we are pretty good at making up, if we fight we will solve it as always" it's true, you never went beyond a day without talking to each other, even if you were angry.

"what if we break up?"

"It won't happen," he answers immediately, his fingers move the locks of hair behind your ears and then rest his hands on your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

His head lowers to chain your eyes together and you look up to facilitate his task "I won't let it happen", the security in his eyes makes you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Your eyes move around to look at the bathroom, "but I wouldn't be able to pay half the rent of this apartment"

"I don't care about that".

"but-"

"If you really want to pay something, we can split the bills," he answers hastily, at the moment Art doesn't care about how to split the expenses, he would pay everything if it meant he could spend the rest of his life next to you… he just needs your 'yes'.

Your face gets close to his, your lips a few inches away.

"okay" his eyes still fixed in yours

"'ok' what?" his smile gets brighter, he wants to hear you say it.

"I'll move in with you" you smile too.

"that's what I like to ear" he kisses you again.

Now he only had to ask you to marry him… but that will have to wait a little longer.

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

Hope you guys will like it as much as I liked writing it! 🩷

(in this fic he still has long hair cause I said so)

#long-haired art dondalson supremacy #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers fic #challengers #tashi doesn't exist here... again lol

[pepperonidk]

i'd rather be blind || c.sc

pairing: sungcheol x reader, mingyu x reader warnings: angst, not accurate at all to korean high school culture but uh... it's fanfic word count: 1425 summary: Seungcheol would rather go blind than see you with someone else. inspired by the song I'd Rather Go Blind by Etta James.

a/n: this is crossposted on my marvel account (@pepperonijem) bc i'm reading some of my old marvel fics and damn... they were kinda insane

main masterlist || taglist

“Whiskey neat. And make it a double,” Seungcheol sighed as he leaned his elbows on the wooden counter of the open bar.

The sound of Etta James’s voice flooded the background, but the only sounds he could bring himself to focus on was the blood pounding in his ears, and his heart keeping in time with it. The drink slid its way down towards him, and he snapped out of his trance only long enough to catch the drink before it spilled on the suit he rented for the evening. Seungcheol let out another deep sigh before downing the drink in one sip; the familiar burn of the alcohol settled over him and he welcomed the warmth that rose in his throat. 

He asked for another glass, ignoring the bartender’s concerned glance. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling, and let the music and chatter behind him drown the memories he no longer wanted to remember.

The grass was dewy. The sky was blue. The air was crisp. And your laugh was music. 

It was easy to spend hours outside with you. Whether you were playing tag or looking for honeysuckle flowers to snack on, it never really mattered. Not as long as you were there. Today, Seungcheol had implored you to lay on the grass beside him to find shapes among the rolling clouds.

You had indulged him for a while, and he was thankful. While you were rambling on about how clouds were actually extremely heavy, he turned to look at you. You were more radiant than the sun and he couldn’t help but stare. Somewhere among dancing elephants, ballerinas, and coffee pots, Seungcheol could also see an infinite number of days spent in your light. You turned to look at him with a gentle smile and Seungcheol felt himself blush. You chuckled softly before sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. 

“Cheollie,” you began. “My mom said we’ve gotta stop getting stains on our clothes. She said she won’t let us be friends anymore if she has to replace another pair of grass-stained jeans.” You stood up and offered your hand out to help him up. Although he definitely didn’t need you to help him up, he took the opportunity to imagine what it would be like to have your fingers entwined in his. So he slipped his hand in yours and the two of you stood from where you were seated on the grassy hill that sat behind both of your houses. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully. He knew as well as you did that your mother’s threats were empty. She adored him, and made it evident every time he came over. As soon as you would walk through the door with him in tow, the sweet and almost sickly scent of apple pie wafted through the house to greet the two of you, which he would grin at in response. You swore Seungcheol was your mom’s favorite child, even though he was only your neighbor. But his charm never failed to get him on everyone’s good side. “I gotta go home anyway, I invited the new kid over to my house. He seemed like he needed a friend,” Seungcheol added.

Your face lit up in response. “Mingyu, right?” you questioned as the two of you walked down the hill back to Seungcheol’s house. Mingyu had transferred to your school recently and was in your advanced calculus class and although he sat behind you, you had yet to strike up a conversation with him. He mostly kept to himself, and spent most of the class with his face buried in his work, drawing small doodles in the margins to while away the minutes, and you had no desire to interrupt. “He sits behind me in calculus, which you would know if you would actually show up to class, dork.” you playfully shoved Seungcheol as the two of you reached his front porch.

Seungcheol laughed in response as he twisted the key to unlock the door. “Okay, to be fair, I don’t think I need to know how to factor derivatives to get through life,” he argued. “But anyway, do you wanna stay for a bit? Mingyu should be here soon.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Seungcheol was quick to open the door to reveal a nervous looking Mingyu. “Hey dude, come on in,” Seungcheol greeted, offering a comforting smile to Mingyu and gesturing into the house. “My friend is here, I hope you don’t mind.” You waved politely at the sound of your name and glanced at Mingyu long enough to notice him smiling sweetly at you, causing a blush to seep into your cheeks. This was the first time you really got to notice the twinkle in Mingyu’s  eyes, without the fluorescent lights of the classroom washing them out.

“Yeah, we have literature together, right?” Mingyu asked, walking over to shake your hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Your hair smells nice,” he blurted out before adding quickly, “at least I’ve noticed from sitting behind you, sorry that’s weird isn’t it?” His eyebrows scrunched together as he smiled apologetically, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckled shyly. “Thanks.” You and Mingyu stood in front of each other for a few seconds, lost in each other’s presence, until your bubble was popped by a cough from Seungcheol. You jumped at the sound, and Mingyu smiled at you in amusement, but Seungcheol had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Uh, I’ll go get us some snacks,” Seuncheol cleared his throat, offering a small smile before disappearing into the kitchen. He stopped and stared at the fridge, looking at all of the photos of the two of you that were hung up by the souvenir magnets you’d gotten him on your trip to Japan. Polaroids of the two of you making silly faces on Seungcheol’s 13th birthday, photobooth strips of him kissing your cheek from the mall two weeks ago, and pictures of you both at the homecoming dance last year. All of those were times he wished he told you how he felt, but let the fear of rejection push him down, and he kept them up as a reminder of his feelings. Seungcheol stared at the pictures long enough to see himself be replaced by the new kid making you laugh right then.

Seungcheol’s trip down memory lane was interrupted by the painful screech of microphone feedback and he turned his head to the stage in time to see the happy couple waving right at him. He waved back and the couple shared a loving look and a quick kiss before you cleared your throat. “We just wanted to say some quick “thank you”s and then we’ll get back to the dancing, sound good?” The crowd cheered in response and she chuckled before continuing. “Well first, thank you mom, for being there for me for all of this. It was definitely stressful, but you are my rock, and you keep me sane. Thank you for showing me what love is and how to share it with others, because without it, I wouldn’t be up here now. And last, but certainly not least, thank you for the apple pie. It was delicious.” 

The crowd laughed in agreement, and Seungcheol took another sip of his whiskey. He looked over to the dessert table to see a few small tins of apple pie still left uneaten and was immediately hit with the sharp pang of wistful nostalgia, not in the least bit dulled by the alcohol. The couple continued to list off names, but he tuned their voices out. Until he heard his name.

“And finally, thank you, Seungcheol. You are really the root of all of this, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for being my best friend, and introducing me to my soulmate. I wouldn’t have ever gathered the courage to speak to the love of my life without you, and for that you deserve the biggest thanks.” Seungcheol plastered a sympathetic smile on his face as he met Mingyu’s eyes. “I love you, man.”

Seungcheol raised his glass in a toast while his dark eyes flickered between the two of you. He saw you look up at your now-husband with adoration in your eyes. He saw the sincerity and gratitude in Mingyu’s. He saw the solitude in your interlocked fingers. Then he decided he’d rather go blind.

taglist: @yksthings @coveyland @xuimhao @sana-is-ms-rmty @gummymintae

#caratwritersclub #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeenweeklyarticle #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x y/n #svt x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scoups #seventeen #svt scoups #scoups smut #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol smut #svt drabbles #svt fic #svt au #svt seungcheol #kpop x reader

[incognit0slut]

Behind Closed Doors

Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words

A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough

You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.

"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.

"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”

"Not for another hour."

"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."

“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."

This caught your attention. "What test?"

She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."

"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"

"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."

"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"

Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."

You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.

You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?

Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.

You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.

Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.

Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 

Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.

A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.

"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.

"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.

"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."

You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.

"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"

"I need to reschedule."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"

"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."

"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."

A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 

With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.

"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

You cocked your head to the side.

What were you doing here? 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."

His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"

"So you've heard.”

"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."

"If they let me back on the team."

"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."

He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."

He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.

"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"

You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."

"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."

Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"

"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”

Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.

"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.

"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"

"I never said that.”

Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”

You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.

It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.

You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.

"Y/N?"

Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 

The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.

With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."

But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.

Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.

Your face grew hotter at the thought.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.

"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."

He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"

"I... uh..."

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."

Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.

It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.

But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.

"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"

"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."

With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.

You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.

He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 

With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 

Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.

"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.

“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."

He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.

"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 

"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."

"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."

You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."

“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”

“Me? What about—oh.”

His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”

You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”

“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”

You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”

You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”

“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”

You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.

“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”

“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.

“Lift your hips for me.”

You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.

“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”

Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.

He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.

“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”

Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.

“I… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.

“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”

Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.

“Do you often touch yourself?”

Your head fell back as he started to move.

“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.

"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.

“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.

“Have you ever thought of me?”

Whoa.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.

This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?

A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.

"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”

What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Uh… This is slightly better.”

“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”

Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”

The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"

Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”

With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."

Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."

He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.

You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.

This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.

You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.

"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.

"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.

"Don't answer it."

"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"

Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”

Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”

"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”

You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 

“…he's also been stalking younger women."

Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.

“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”

You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"

"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."

Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.

“Are you with someone?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”

There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.

“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.

“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”

She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.

“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.

"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.

"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”

Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—

“Y/N!”

“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”

You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.

"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"

You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.

It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”

“Good intense?”

“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.

“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.

Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”

“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”

Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."

Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.

Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 

He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You have some kind of nightmare and Bucky wakes you up but he’s still a prick and you have a fight.

Warnings: Flashback, mention of experiments, hydra facility, creepy stuff and I probably forgot something so forgive me. -> 18+ !!

Other: English isn’t my fist language so I apologize for eventual mistakes.

-> Masterlist

-> Part three ; Part five

-> Nonie (04)

A little you was sitting in the corner of your room. The place you called home was clean and sterile, empty of any unnecessary comforts - not that you knew what the word truly meant. The only source of light was coming from the single light bulb hung from the ceiling, and your bed - big enough to at least fit you - was pushed against a wall, it’s thin mattress covered in white sheets.

The walls were bare; you were not given anything normal kids your age had to at least make it seem more than just a prison. It was naked of any type of decoration, no pictures or paintings… just plain grey. And you loved it.

One day, your usual routine was changed. Up until then you had been alone, the only people you talked to were the scientists and Mrs White who came in to see how you were doing and tell you all about the process they were making thanks to you. But that day, you remember the sound of that huge, scratched iron door open and an Hydra agent escorting a girl into the room.

Not a word was exchanged before you and the new person were left alone. To be honest, you were curious but also confused - why did they brought her in all of a sudden? Was she another special girl? Were you not good enough anymore? You didn’t like that idea.

You watched as she went to sit on the other corner of the room, her head low, and you spent the whole day listening to her sobbing. Why was she crying, you did not know. How could she cry when she was in the safest place on earth?

Ungrateful. And she was evidently older than you, maybe sixteen or even seventeen - she should have understood her worth already at that age.

In the days that followed, you learned absolutely nothing about her. She never spoke and she spent most of her time confined to her side of the room - she wasn’t even given a mattress, and she did nothing to let you know if perhaps she was tired of sleeping on the floor. All you heard were her hums at night, melodies you didn’t know.

But for some reason, you liked having her there.

Eventually, days turned into weeks and your curiosity towards her only grew and it almost became an obsession - you wanted to get her to talk but never succeeded. Each day, like a clockwork, the girl was escorted out of the room by Hydra agents and each day, when she would return, her demeanor grew more unsettling.

“And so today Mrs White gave me a candy. She said I deserved it after I found where those criminals were hiding.” You said, hopping onto your bed as you stared at her - she was finally given one too, and now she did nothing rather than lay on it as days passed by. “Did she ever give you a candy? The one that looks like a bear - have you ever seen a bear?”

At your questions, all you could hear was nothing except her breathing. There wasn’t even a window in there. “Oh, yeah. You don’t talk. Mrs White says that when people ignore you, they are being extremely dis- dispec - I don’t remember the word she used. But it’s not nice!”

Nothing. She didn’t even blink, sometimes you had to walk over there to check if she was still breathing. “Whatever.” You sighed. “I’ll bring you a candy next time I’m done with a successful mission. Maybe you’ll talk to me. Or I can steal one - maybe I could. I don’t know. What do you think? Do you want a candy?”

Silence.

“Alright. Then I’ll bring you one.” You smiled at her. “But you need to tell me your name, I can’t keep referring to you as the ‘new girl’, it’s been… I don’t know. But surely more than a day!”

The girl stayed silent. Her eyes fixated on the ceiling.

“Mrs White says my blood is fundamental for whatever they’re working on, you know? We’re here to save the world.” You continued. “She said there are some people who don’t want that, like Natasha Romanoff. The prodigy of the Red Room, have you ever met her? She came here a few years ago and taught me how to shoot properly. And now, turns out that she’s been corrupted.” You sighed “You’re a great listener, at least.” You turned around, giving your back to her. Maybe she just didn’t like you.

Still, no response. Not even a hum of acknowledgement.

Your frustration mounted with each passing day, your attempts to communicate with her were always ignored and you were met with nothing but silence.

“Is there something wrong, kid?” One of Hydra’s agents, Ezra you had learnt, asked you one day as he was escorting you back to your room after another evening of restless training. You had to be at your best, they said, all the time.

“No.” You sighed, as your body felt like burning - that day they had gone heavy on you, but you managed well. You were the only survivor, as per usual. “When can I go outside? I want to help on the field.”

“Soon enough, kid. We have a problem in stars and stripes to take care of. Mrs White believes you can do it.”

You felt a sense of pride in you at his words. That man, they called him Captain America, was a heavy problem for the world. He was the one who kept ruining any attempt to make the world a better place, always stepping in to cause chaos. He needed to be eliminated and you wished it would be you to do so, after all you had the skills to do it.

“Then I won’t disappoint her.”

Once you got back to your room with the biggest grin ever, you saw Nonie - as you nicknamed her - sitting on her bed with her back on the wall, staring straight ahead of her. You sat right in her line of view, which was on your mattress, crossing your legs one over the other. “Guess what?”

Blank stare.

“I’ll kill Mr Captain America one of these days. I know I’m not as skilled as Winter is, but I can do it. I know I can.” You started to ramble convinced that she wouldn’t pay attention to you since she never did, but soon enough, too focused on your own words, you felt a hand on your tight.

A cold, almost imperceptible touch. She had walked towards you, kneeling down in the end as her legs were too weak to hold her light weight for longer than a few steps.

You stared into her soulless eyes for a moment, before she shook her head.

“No? What - what do you mean no?” You looked at her dumbfounded. “You don’t want me to kill him? Nonie, I h-”

But before you could continue, she crawled back to her bed in the same position she was in. You stayed silent too, for a moment. For a long, tense moment.

“So you can understand what I’m saying! You can hear me!” You realized, getting up. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Nonie made a movement with her pale hand to tell you to get closer to her - which you did without second thinking. Those few steps felt like happening in slow motion and once you were right in front of her, she raised that same hand to her mouth; her fingers grazing the edge of her lips.

You frowned, but you didn’t have the time to utter a word that she stuck out her tongue - or what was left of it.

≈

“For fuck’s sake - Emma!” Your eyes snapped open at Bucky’s voice, your heart racing in your chest as you sat up in bed, your forehead almost colliding against his.

You couldn’t help but dream about her, giving what you and Dean had saw just hours prior. She always came back into your memories one way or another, whether it was with a nightmare or just with a simple thought during the day - she was always there, in the back of your mind. And no matter how much years had passed since then, Nonie wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Bucky spoke again with a sharp tone. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I’ve been trying to wake you up the whole night.”

You blinked in confusion, caught off guard by his harsh tone and the fact that he was sitting so close to you. “I’m sorry.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “I had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s expression unexpectedly softened, though you could still sense some irritation. You knew he had trouble sleeping too, and waking up in the middle of the night due to someone else’s problems wasn’t really ideal. “Nightmare, huh? Great, now we’re both awake.”

You closed your eyes and took a breath for a moment as you tried to find the right words to say. You never meant to disturb him but you could not control how your mind worked - and Wanda wasn’t even there to help you. Sometimes you gave her permission to get inside your head and erase the bad memories for one night so you could properly rest, but she wasn’t with you and so you had to do it alone. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Bucky let out a heavy sigh, his demeanor softening ever so slightly. “Look, I’m sorry for snapping at you.” He admitted gruffly. He better than anyone could understand how you mist be feeling, and he could have approached it better. “It’s been a long day and I guess I’m just on edge.”

You huffed. “Believe me, I know.”

Bucky exhaled as he was still sitting on your bed, the situation becoming awkward. He got up, but didn’t leave quite yet. You saw some uncertainty in his eyes before he spoke again.

“Food always helps me with nightmares.” He cleared his throat, his tone softer than before. But not much, he was still Bucky Barnes after all. “Come downstairs with me. Dean left some pizza in the fridge before leaving.”

You noticed you were hungry now that he mentioned food. Once you and Dean got home after the investigation, still unsure of what you saw - or, rather, still hoping your mind had played an awful joke on you, you went straight in your room. You had left the task to explain things to Sam and Bucky to Dean.

“One thing I learned about Dean is that he becomes a mad man if someone touches his food.” You let out a small chuckle, getting up the bed.

“He left it for you.” Bucky admitted.

“Oh.” That was surprising. “I was going to eat it anyway but I will feel less guilty knowing it was already mine.”

Together you made your way downstairs to the kitchen, the silence was oddly comfortable for once. You sat down while Bucky took the pizza box from the fridge and tossed it your way. Action you thanked with a smile.

He rummaged through the cabinets searching for something to eat himself. He sat on the chair beside yours with a box of homemade biscuits - wait, homemade biscuits?

“The old lady that lives on the other side of the street brought these over today, when you and Dean were at the Miller’s house.” He explained after reading your expression. “We’re invited at her niece’s birthday party this weekend, by the way. I said yes.”

You being invited to a party full of strangers wasn’t really on the list of the things you liked to do since you were as social as a rock but what you wanted went into the toilet the second you became an Avenger. Like that time you and Pietro were sent on a mission on a yacht - you were scared as hell of the sea after a certain God of Mischief made you watch Titanic changing the finale with your face instead of Rose’s. But that was another story.

“Great.” You sighed.

“So, the investigation. How did it go? You came home quite traumatized.” He raised a brow, and you didn’t miss the judgement in his tone.

You stiffened for a second, your mind went inevitably back there just as soon as you were starting to think about something else. “I wasn’t traumatized. I just… if you had seen that, you would have understood.”

Bucky scoffed. “What? Seeing the breakdown of an hysterical old lady after she lost her daughter doesn’t seem so terrible compared to what we’re used to, come on now.”

You frowned. That was the last of your concerns, you weren’t a therapist or something but a breakdown was certainly not that woman’s biggest problem. “Dean didn’t- he didn’t tell you everything?”

It was Bucky’s time to frown. “He told us what happened. You two arrived there, the woman was obviously grieving her missing daughter and she had a break down after asking one too many questions which led to her kicking you out.” He reassumed everything Dean had said. “Isn’t that all?”

You gulped. Dean kept his mouth shut about that, and you wondered why. Bucky knew what Hydra was capable of, but that? That was something beyond imaginable. Still, before talking to Bucky about it you wanted to know why Dean kept it a secret and why he didn’t seem to freak out as any other normal person would - beside you.

“No, that’s all.” You said after a moment, sounding as sincere as possible. “It’s just… her daughter’s probably dead and… and seeing her reaction wasn’t easy.”

“Mh.” He nodded, seeming to believe you. “Rich coming from you.” He said after, turning back into himself - for a second there you almost forgot how infuriating he was.

“Excuse me?”

“Rich coming from you.” He repeated casually. “Didn’t you use to kidnap people yourself for Hydra? Or maybe… bring back the ones lucky enough to break free from their control?

You stayed momentarily silent. “No.” You answered. “I never kidnapped anyone or brought back anyo- what the fuck is your problem, man?”

“I have absolutely zero problems, but I wonder if you even have the right to feel bad when you used to do the same to innocent people - willingly.” His tone was as light as if he was talking about a damn football game.

“You killed dozens of people too.”

“I was brainwashed, and I feel guilty enough. You were not.” He fired back. “And you never apologized.”

“I was a fucking child, Barnes.” You reminded him, clenching your jaw. “I thought I was doing the right thing by complying, just like you were!”

“I know that, Dayne, I’m not an idiot. But you’ve been indoctrinated with their ideas all your life, which is exactly why I wonder how the fuck it is that you’re on our side now.” He said, leaning back on the chair. “I’m not attacking you, just curious.”

“It’s been ten years, it took me a long time to see things the right way.” You said, really stopping the urge to flip the table and walk out dramatically. “And it looks like an attack to me.”

“It’s not.” He remarked. “You know, Rumlow was a SHIELD agent while being loyal to Hydra. If he did it, I won’t get off the table the fact that you could be doing the same.”

“I never joined Hydra willingly, I was born there!” You shot back to that lunatic asshole. “Rumlow joined those people because he believed in their ideas, to me their ideas were the only thing I’ve ever known! Excuse me if I didn’t know a difference between the good and the bad when I was told that killing people was the only way humanity could survive!”

He sighed at that. Maybe he had been too harsh?

“You’ve been brainwashed in a way, and I in another. If you think I’m some kind of monster for what I did or I cannot be trusted, then we may not be so different.” You spat while pulling yourself up from the chair with force, the legs scrapping against the floor. “And if you wake me up again I’ll stick that metal arm up your ass.”

With that, you left him in the kitchen alone. Fuck him and fuck whatever his problem was.

#bucky barnes #bucky x oc #dean winchester #bucky x you #supernatural #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #sam winchester #bucky fanfic #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky winter soldier #marvel #winter soldier #mcu #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x original female character #jbbarnes #bucky barnes fanfiction

[rachey899]

Lightning Ridge - Part Four

Finally part four is here! The final part! Sorry it took so long to get this here, school went back in Aus last week so it meant back to work for me, this had been finished but needed some serious editing. Still not completely happy with it but I was too excited so here it is! The big show down and the boys have some fluffy moments!

Also just now realizing they never did make it to Lightning Ridge, perhaps I'll change the title but anywho! This may the end of this adventure with Hendrix and Ryder but I have some more shorts planned for these two don't you worry!

TW: mentions of murder/eating people, giant spiders, some swearing, mentions of death, mentions of drug use, some violence, a close call vore scenario

Approx 4.4k words!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

The ground quaked beneath us, I wasn’t sure what time we had drifted to sleep out there under the stars but at some point in the night, I’d returned to my human size, no longer under the hold of alcohol.

I sat bolt upright and found that Ryder was already on his feet and strapping the iron sword to his side.

“He’s here.” Ryder said his voice gravelly from sleep.

“Shit.” In an instant I was on my feet as well, we had planned on ambushing him the following evening, but it seemed our plans had been changed for us. Blade was raiding the village as we stood there, it was now or never.

“You ready for this?” Ryder asked, holding out the silver sword to me, the hilt was wrapped in leather so I wouldn’t burn my hands, but it should do the trick in convincing Blade that I was human and not a shifter.

We were relying on the element of surprise if our plan was going to work.

I nodded, strapping the sword to my side and ignoring the uncomfortable feeling I got from being so close to the silver. Without another word Ryder sprinted toward Armarand with me trailing close behind, my heart pounded, and my body screamed at me to shift if only for self-preservation, but I would not reveal my true identity just yet.

It didn’t take long for us to spot Blade, he towered over the town, his eyes red with blood lust as he scoured the streets looking for his next victim. Each step he took shuddered through us, and I wondered if this was how humans viewed me, how Ryder saw me.

Blade appeared positively monstrous, he’d clearly been busy since the last time I saw him and only gone further down the path of pure evil.

His clothing was scattered with patches of blood, some old, some new but it definitely was not his own. His long and sharp face was littered with scars, evidence of those who had tried to slay him in the past. His black hair had grown longer, almost reaching his stomach and it hung in greasy clumps, his skin was caked with mud and blood, more monster than man.

Blade’s senses zeroed in on a house to his left as he heard the screams of those within who had just witnessed his arrival.

He smiled, the hunt had begun.

Reaching for the house, he easily broke through the roof, digging roughly within and searching for the humans hiding inside. He looked as though he were merely rifling through an old box, roughly moving furniture around without a care in the world of potentially harming the souls inside.

Ryder and I picked up our pace until we were directly in front of the house. Ryder nodded at me and we split up. He circled around to the back of the house, disappearing somewhere behind Blade.

That was my cue, and I prayed that all our preparation would be enough, I waved my arms over my head to get Blade’s attention.

“Hey! Over here. Why don’t you pick a real fight, you coward!” I shouted, his hunger fueled gaze landed on me in an instant, his pupils dilated and with surprising speed he reached over the house, his hand shooting toward me.

In that moment I promised I’d never reach for another soul without warning again, the speed in which his large, clawed hand reached for me made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I ran, not because I was scared of him but because I needed to lure him away from the village, if we were going to fight, we would not be putting anymore innocents at risk, I needed to get him to the clearing.

“Run, run, little one, you won’t get very far before you’re done.” He sing-songed darkly as he quickly gained on me.

I’d only reached the edge of town when his shadow eclipsed me, I’d run out of time, this would have to do. I spun around, brandishing my sword and taking on a fighting stance, just as Ryder had shown me.

Blade was crouched over me with an eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“What do we have here, a little hunter? You’ll need more than a silver toothpick to stop my thunder.” He tsked and slammed his fist into the ground, emphasizing his power.

I stood my ground, waiting for Ryder’s signal, I hadn’t seen him chase after us and I wondered briefly if he’d meant it when he said it would be every man for himself. The notion was abandoned when I spotted him dancing around Blade’s ankles, I smiled and met the Giant’s eyes once more, I needed to continue to distract him.

“Don’t you recognize me, Blade?” I called up to him as his hand reached for me again, I ducked and rolled out of the way, but he didn’t seem to be trying to catch me, his fingers reaching lazily almost as though he were playing with me.

“Should I? I’m sorry, I don’t make a habit of talking to snacks and then letting them live, not to worry, I can fix that.” He mocked, revealing his yellowed teeth, and snapping them together for emphasis.

“Oh, come on, I haven’t changed that much in a year!” I called up to him, dancing again out of his reach but only just. “You on the other hand…” I laughed. “Well let’s just say the human diet has done you no favors.” I taunted him.

His fury peaked then, and he slammed a fist down, aiming for my body but missing by an inch, I was thrown off my feet and the Giant laughed darkly above me.

“NOW!” Ryder shouted from Blade’s feet, Blade glanced down and raised an eyebrow, I focused my energy and began to grow as Ryder pulled the ropes in an attempt to trip him over.

“Time for you to pick on someone your own size.” I seethed.

Blade brandished a knife, taking no notice of my growing body and instead he cut the ropes with a flick of his wrist. Ryder made an attempt to circle around his feet and take cover behind a building. He wasn’t fast enough, and I wasn’t fast enough, Blade’s foot swung with incredible speed and slammed into Ryder’s stomach sending him flying.

“NOOO!” I roared, now at my full height I swung at Blade aiming for his neck, he deflected it with his own hand pushing against it despite the burn of the silver.

“How interesting.” Blade sneered; I took another swing, but Blade kicked me down planting a heavy boot on my chest.

I raised my sword and sliced at his head, I managed to successfully cut into his ear and blood dripped down onto my face. My victory was short lived however as Blade punched me hard in the nose and used his other foot to slam onto my wrist causing me to release the sword.

He then grabbed me by my hair, lifting me up, pain burst through my skull, and I writhed, scratching at him to get away, I needed to know that Ryder was okay, I hadn’t seen where he landed. My heart beat wildly as I was dragged along the ground, knocking into multiple buildings along the way.

Before I knew it, I was thrown to the ground again and kicked hard in the side, a sickening crack resounded. Having the wind knocked out of me I curled in on myself, some hero I was turning out to be.

Blade once again grasped me by my hair and turned my face toward the ground, my eyes focused in on the small figure who was sprawled on the ground before me and slowly waking up from being knocked unconscious.

“Ryder.” I croaked, he was barely an inch away from my face and as Blade pushed into my head, I fought with all my might to stop myself from being pushed into Ryder and consequentially killing him.

“Looks like your little pet is stronger than I gave him credit for, not to worry, they taste better when they are kicking at deaths door.” Blade’s voice taunted from above me.

Ryder slowly came to, he looked in bad shape, but his fearless eyes were filled with fury as he took in the scene before him. He shuffled himself back a little, eyes darting around for an escape plan.

“Go on, have a taste, we wouldn’t want him to go to waste.” Blade pushed into my head again, this time angling my face so that my mouth was directly in front of Ryder, I kept my lips firmly shut as they brushed his shoulder.

I kicked again but Blade held me firmly, my mind raced for something, anything that would result in us both making it out of this alive. One idea came to mind, though it made me sick and I knew that Ryder would never forgive me, but it was our best shot, the only thing I could do.

Ryder searched his person for a weapon, he searched the area around him and grasped his sword which had thankfully fallen near to him and then looked around frantically, calculating his own next move, but I’d already made up my mind.

When Blade pushed down on my head again, I let him, I opened my mouth and closed my eyes and Ryder was forced inside, I closed my lips around his feet and fought from gagging.

Blade let go of my head, having surmised that I’d caved in to his demand and he stood back from me, letting me go.

He laughed and stood there, arms crossed, I remained still and once he figured I wasn’t going to put up much of a fight he turned and headed back toward the house he had started his rampage at.

“When you’re ready come and join me for some more fun.” Blade called over his shoulder.

He underestimated me, I hadn’t given up the fight yet.

With no time to lose, and the awful feeling of Ryder kicking around against my tongue and the bite of his sword against my gums, I lunged for Blade. Wrapping my arms around his neck I knocked him to the ground and spat Ryder out directly onto his neck.

I held Blade’s arms down, but my strength was giving out, I wouldn’t be able to hold him down forever, we only had a very small window for this to work.

Ryder, seeming to have understood the assignment, pushed his sword into the back of Blade’s head, though it wasn’t silver, the expert placement of the sword meant that Blade would not recover from this.

He roared in fury as blood spurted out from the vital artery and the beast finally went still and silent beneath me.

I rolled off of the monster and proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach in the shrubbery to the left of us before collapsing. My skin was cold and slick with sweat, I knew I was shaking, and I knew I’d likely broken a couple of ribs, I gagged again, my mind focusing on the taste of blood in my mouth.

The blood was caused by my friend who had been desperately trying escape my mouth, trying to fight ME to save himself from being eaten.

“Hendrix?” Ryder’s voice called from somewhere nearby, but I was too ashamed, too disgusted with myself to look at him.

“Hendrix!” He shouted sternly, I focused on my breathing, the way my body tingled and shook with the shock and energy I’d just exerted, I felt close to passing out.

“Hendrix!” He said more forcefully.

I turned to face him, unable to ignore him, unable to deny him.

He was limping towards me, still at least an arm’s length away from me but he continued his approach. He still held no fear, and I wondered then if maybe something inside him was wired differently. I would be running for the hills if I were in his shoes.

“A-are you okay?” I croaked, my throat raw from vomiting, tears threatened to cloud my vision.

“A bit battered but I’ll live, I would like my shoe back though.” He stated, my eyes widened, and my tongue instantly swiped around the inside of my gums until it landed on a positively miniscule foreign object. I picked it out between a finger and thumb and my stomach heaved again, I guess I was lucky it hadn’t dislodged itself when I’d thrown up.

With shaky fingers I extended the dripping wet boot toward Ryder, who grimaced at it but took it into his hands anyway.

I remained perfectly still as he continued to approach me, with a heavy sigh he sat down leaning his back against my forehead, giving my cool slick skin a firm pat. He was wet with saliva and blood but radiated a heat I didn’t know I needed.

“Well, that was fucked.” He said bluntly.

I cringed and muttered an apology, but he cut me off.

“Not you” He said impatiently. “Though some warning in the future would be nice because that was certainly a harrowing experience that I don’t wish to repeat, but I meant, Blade, HE was fucked.”

“Ryder, I really am s-sorry, it was the only thing I could think-“

“You did good.” He said simply.

We sat in silence for a time, while we caught our breath and worked on calming down, letting the adrenalin from the fight slowly ebb away. Eventually I found the strength to sit up, I pulled my shirt up and pressed my fingers against my ribs, feeling for any damage.

A large purple bruise was already forming along my side where Blade had kicked me, and there were at least two broken ribs.

My wrist ached where Blade had planted his boot, but it didn’t appear to be broken and surprisingly my nose was also still intact though I imagine I looked a sorry sight regardless.

My mind flickered back to the image of Ryder being literally kicked by the Giant and I looked down at him, he’d been watching me but quickly looked away and busied himself with checking his own body over.

“Sprained ankle and a fuck tonne of bruises, not too bad considering, how did you do?” He asked glancing up at me. I was surprised, I thought for sure Ryder would have at least one broken bone, he was certainly made of tougher stuff than me.

“A few broken ribs and bruises as well, I guess we were both lucky.” I shrugged, he nodded, satisfied.

“Let’s go check on the village.” He said. “Can you shift?”

My body was weak and tired, I’d be lucky if I could shift within the next few days, it would take some time to regain enough energy to hold my human form again, I shook my head.

Our first stop was the house that Blade had targeted, the family within were reluctant to leave upon seeing that a Giant was indeed still wandering the streets but Ryder assured them I meant no harm and had assisted him in taking down the monster.

I busied myself with gathering debris, parts of buildings and structures that had been knocked down during the fight. Most of the damage had actually been caused by me, from when Blade had dragged me through the streets, it was the least I could do to help.

Then with as little grace as possible I dragged Blade out of the town, by his feet, dragging his face through the dirt as I went. I dragged him a good distance from the town before I began digging, using my hands to shift the dirt around it wasn’t difficult considering the ground was softer and easier to push through at this size.

Once the beast was buried, I made my way back to the town but stopped as the trees grew thinner, deciding to sit and take a moment to myself. I wasn’t needed within the town now anyway, I’d done all that I could do. Now I would sit and probably stay here, out of sight and out of the way.

Ryder found me a number of hours later, it was well past midday, and the exhaustion was really catching up to me. I’d managed to find some bandaging in my bag and strapped my middle as best I could, but the adrenalin was soon replaced with pain, and I honestly just wanted to sleep for a week.

“You look like shit.” Ryder remarked.

“Could say the same to you.” I quipped back, he’d since dried out but his clothing and hair had stiffened from the residue of my saliva and blood.

“I think we both have earnt a bath.” He said resolutely, he skirted around me and headed in the opposite direction of the village, I had figured he meant he would find a bath in town. Where in the world was he going?

He was a fair distance away from me before he turned around waving me over.

“You coming or what!?” He shouted.

Feeling overly large and clumsy, I stood up to my full height and walked slowly and carefully toward him, seeing I was following he continued on ahead picking up his pace as best he could with a sprained ankle, so that he remained in front of me.

A short while later we came across a lake I hadn’t noticed had been in the area before now, it was rather large even by my standards and I guessed the water would at least reach my chest at its deepest. Suddenly renewed of energy, I couldn’t help my elation upon seeing the fresh clean water and was itching to jump in but I restrained myself for now.

I peeked down at Ryder having come to a crouch when we stopped, I hated looming so far above him, but it couldn’t really be helped right now, he smiled up at me and gestured to the water.

“After you.” He says.

With no further encouragement needed I pulled my shirt over my head and dumped it in a heap beside me, then with only a little hesitation, I removed my pants also, leaving only my long johns on and avoiding Ryder’s stare the whole time. I then stood and stepped slowly into the water.

It was cold and gave me goose bumps all over but in the best way possible, once I was far enough away from the shoreline, I dived in, emerging from the water with a splash and shaking the water from my hair. I smiled at Ryder who’d stepped back a little to avoid the wave I had caused, I beckoned him to join me.

I had underestimated the depth of the water and was pleasantly surprised to find it reached my shoulder blades and I let the cool water wash over my injuries, soothing them beautifully.

Ryder took his time removing his own clothes before wading out into the water, it would take him a little bit to reach me this far out, but I was patient, and I washed my face and hair clean in the meantime. Feeling like a new man and less like a monster I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face watching Ryder swim confidently toward me.

When he was about a foot away, he stopped and tread the water catching his breath and smiled right back at me.

“Gods its fucking freezing!” He exclaimed.

“It’s amazing.” I laughed. “You were right, we definitely needed a bath.”

“Well, I usually am right about these things you know.” He muttered.

Feeling stupidly confident, I lifted a hand and splashed it down again in front of him, causing a wave to pull him under, he emerged again a second later spluttering.

“Asshole!” He growled and proceeded to do the same thing in retaliation, only his splashes had very ‘little’ impact on me, causing me to laugh at his attempts. This only fueled his annoyance of course.

I ducked under the water, purely to keep my face familiar with the temperature of the water when a mischievous idea struck me. I angled myself directly below his kicking legs, admiring them for a moment before blowing the remaining air from my lungs up toward him. I watched as I succeeded in propelling him out of the water and then back down again with a splash.

I emerged coughing on water as I was unable to hold back my laughter, Ryder on the other hand was less than impressed.

“Just when I was changing my opinion on Giants, you prove me wrong, you are in fact all just Giant dicks.” He growled but I only laughed harder, I moved closer to him then and placed a hand directly below his legs, giving him a platform to stand on and to give him a well-earned break.

“Oh, come on Ryder, we Giant’s are the best at playing practical jokes.” I smirked, he couldn’t stay mad for long, and the corners of his lips quirked upwards, and he rolled his eyes.

He sat down on my palm letting his legs dangle in the water, I sobered then observing the nasty bruise that covered his entire chest, he was lucky he hadn’t broken anything, clearly, he was tougher than I gave him credit for.

Even with the bruise he was incredibly handsome, he was clearly the natural fighter of the two of us, with a solid build, muscular and firm abdominals. He was very nice to look at, he cast his eyes up to me and I felt heat rush to my cheeks, he’d caught me ogling him, again.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. “So uh, are you really okay? I know you’ll tell me you’re fine but um if being around me makes you uncomfortable or anything then, you can just tell me.”

He raised a hand to silence me and shook his head.

“For goodness sake Hendrix, I’m not scared of you.” He was stern and somewhat astounded that I’d even suggest such a thing. I felt it was pretty reasonable since I had just been a huge part of the traumatic experience that had just taken place.

I lowered my head toward the water and came up close to him slowly, nudging his chest with my nose and looking directly in his eyes I said. “Really?” His breathing hitched and he placed his hands on my nose, meeting my eyes with a no nonsense look.

“Yes really.”

Without thinking I closed the distance between he and I and pressed my lips to his bruised chest, giving it a gentle kiss before drawing away. His cheeks were a flame and his breathing had quickened again though I honestly didn’t think it was out of fear this time.

“I take it back.” He said and I tilted my head in confusion.

“You are scary, positively frightening in fact.” He continued, and I slowly moved my hand further away to give him space, perhaps I’d crossed a line.

“Not because of your size Hendrix, you’re scary because I don’t know what to make of you, I don’t know how to be around you, I’ve never met anyone like you before.” He said earnestly.

I wasn’t really sure what to say so I just remained silent, my eyes never left him, I waited for him to continue. He heaved a sigh and fiddled with his hands in his lap.

“I just know that I want to be near to you, I guess that’s what scares me about you.” He finished.

I lifted a finger, trailing it gently along his back, trying to touch him in a way that gave him strength like he had done for me when I was feeling scared and vulnerable. My finger found his shoulder and then found his chin before I nudged it upward so that he was looking at me again.

“It scares me too.” I admitted softly. “I know that I don’t want to simply go our separate ways now though, I don’t think I could… When Blade… kicked you I-“

I closed my eyes fighting back the tears that came along with the memory. “I thought I had lost you and I knew then that I didn’t want to ever lose you.” My heart beat loudly in my ears, I’d never been so vulnerable with a person before, never mind a human.

“You won’t lose me.” He said quietly, a promise and a tear trailing his own cheek, this hard man, so stoic and so brave, was crying because I cared for him, I wondered if anyone had ever cared for him the way I do before.

Gently I brought him close to me and held him to my shoulder, embracing him in the only way I could at this stupidly too large size. Even despite my stupid size, he saw me as an equal, he saw me as a partner, my heart shattered into a thousand pieces in that moment.

“Let’s do it together.” He said, I brought him before my face again.

“Do what? What do we even do now?”

“We are going to go and find your family, and before you argue with me, you don’t have a choice. I am going to find your family; I need to prove to you that not everyone sees you the way they saw Blade. I know you; I see you for who you really are, and they will too…Do you trust me?” He asked, my mouth hung open, I had been about to utter a firm no thank you, but I couldn’t find the strength to do so.

I nodded. “I trust you.” He smiled up at me and I learned then that I probably wouldn’t ever be able to say no to him.

“Good, now let’s go dry off and warm up, I’m freezing my balls off.”

I laughed as we headed back to the shore. The cold didn’t bother me, I was too elated, too surprised and blown away by what had just happened. I’d only known Ryder for a little over a week and suddenly I didn’t know why I had been living before, and he gave me a reason to.

With my heart warm and full, I couldn’t wait to begin our next adventure, together.

The End

#gt #gianttiny #giant/tiny #g/t #giant #tiny #gtfluff #size shifter #sizedifference #gtangst #HendrixRyder

[astraltrickster]

Dungeon Meshi is possibly the best case I've ever seen of fantasy being used as an extended study of casual racism. Most of our beloved blorbos are, in fact, casually racist in some way, including the central party. It's not treated as a good thing. Their ideas are not treated as true by the narrative. But most importantly, the characters are still treated as fully realized people who are likeable and doing their best...but operating under a skewed worldview. Casual racism is a character flaw, and a bad one, and not one that can turn into a benefit in the right situation; the closest it can come is...being mildly useful against shapeshifters.

But most importantly, it's explained by their life circumstances without excusing it. Laios is casually racist - in the kinds of ways that people in real life might be; he's Like This toward other groups of tallmen, even - because he isn't good with people in the first place, let alone enough so to question "ambient" attitudes toward "outsider" tribes or think about why deciding someone's name is too hard to really get right might just be a dick move (in other words, his casual racism exists in a way that a lot more white autistic people need to be aware can happen, tbh) - and he faces the consequences, some of which are fucking devastating (I straight up can't revisit the part where Toshiro admits he hates Laios because holy fucking shit it hits way too close to home to understand BOTH of their viewpoints that deeply, like I had to lay down after that one). Senshi is also casually fantasy-racist, because he's never been in extended contact with a multiracial group before - hell, he hasn't been in extended contact with ANY group since childhood. Marcille seemed like she was at her worst when arguing over the history of the orc war, but the deeper-running thing is that her stubbornness extends to a good bit of egomania; when she has what she thinks is a good idea, she thinks she knows better than anyone; we see this flaw with the mandrake incident and think a valuable lesson has been learned...only for it to REALLY rear its ugly head later, and what else could you expect? Elf culture is, itself, pretty damned racist. She's spent her whole life being told she's smarter and wiser than anyone from a shorter-lived race because ~with age comes wisdom~! That's not something that goes away overnight!

And Chilchuck, as the guy on the receiving end of so many of this society's shitty attitudes...in a lot of media, and hell, often in real life, with someone as initially cold and closed-off from his party as him, we would expect to see a whole scene where he apologized for the mistake of not trusting them...but we don't get that with him, as I honestly believe we shouldn't, because he had no way to know or even suspect that this party would be the one that wouldn't try to just use him as an expendable tool - and in fact, as established above, plenty of evidence to suspect that they very well might. He can't read minds. Any time he's up, he doesn't know how the party will respond if he dies - would they mourn, or would the last thing he heard while bleeding out just be "aw, shit! Where are we going to find another competent half-foot THIS deep into the dungeon!?" We know the answer, but we have every reason to understand that he does not. He's using very rational defensive tactics...against people, it turns out, he doesn't need to use them against, but he's not exactly WRONG to do so - you can't even call him mistaken; he's making the best decision he can with the information at hand (i.e., his history, their casual racism). He sees people who are not half-foots and fully expects them to exploit him based not on outside stereotypes but on his own history, and while it's not cruel, exactly, it sure does make things harder - more so on him than those around him - than they need to be.

And what I like about this is that the narrative says - yes, these racist and ignorant attitudes are bad. They do harm to the people who have to deal with them, both directly and indirectly. No, they aren't going to be 100% resolved in a single story arc; they have to be chipped away at slowly, bit by bit. Yes, they exist in fully realized people. They are the result of Living In A Society, not individually just being the most evil kind of motherfucker on the planet.

They might even - probably even - exist in you.

So maybe we should all be working on that a bit, hm?

#dunmeshi #in other words when i saw the short manga about the class assigned to write about the bunny people? #my reaction was ''...okay that explains a lot'' #id love to sit down and talk serious real world shit vs. fantasy with ryoko kui #also i could write a whole dissertation on the fact that you can read ALL of the main manga and never actually know toshiro's real name #like damn that is some fourth wall fuckery with the concepts right there #like we have to question what WE know from the canon #very powerful use of unreliable narration all around

[my-current-obsession]

Something I both love AND hate about FF7 (the original game and everything after, including the Remake trilogy) is that it is just ambiguous and/or player-driven enough that no matter which side of the love triangle you fall on (assuming you do in fact ship Cloud with one of the girls), the majority of fans for that ship are 100% CONVINCED it's the correct/canon option.

Like, certain scenes are definitely up to interpretation, and people are going to thus have varying reads on those scenes and the characters/relationships the scenes are about. It doesn't help that several scenes change depending on the player's choices, which acts as a confirmation bias as you naturally get more time and romantic moments with the girl of your preference. It really seems to me that MOST people who ship Cloud and Aerith have one solid interpretation with a plethora of supporting evidence of the series and the romance, while most people who ship Cloud and Tifa have their own solid interpretation with plenty of evidence that is VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Clerith reading of the game.

This is not a case of "one ship is clearly, explicitly canon and fans of the opposition just like their pick better and/or think it made more sense narratively and WISH it was canon" - for an example of that, look to the Avatar the Last Airbender shipping wars. This is a case where both sides literally interpret the story just differently enough that they come to entirely different conclusions about which girl is Cloud's true love. And if either side reaches out to try and explain their viewpoint to the other, they're just met with "uh, no. You're wrong." Try and explain what Cloud might be thinking in a given scene with one of the girls, why he acts a certain way... "That's not it at all, where are you getting this? Are you delusional?"

Like, I am a Clerith shipper. I have played all the games in the compilation and watched Advent Children. I tried to be as completionist as possible, even. And I came out on the other side of really digging into the story of this game loving Cloud and Aerith's dynamic and pretty firmly convinced they were canon. Or as canon as possible in the timeline where she died. Even in that timeline it seemed clear to ME that Cloud was still heavily mourning her two years later, preferring to live in her church instead of with Tifa and ignoring Tifa's calls. But that's MY interpretation.

As any of us here in the trenches would know, if you try and explain your interpretation of these characters and the romance to a diehard Cloti supporter... you're met with a lot of "you're misinterpreting! Cloud and Aerith were just friends! She loved Zack to the end and Cloud loved Tifa since childhood and never stopped! Also Aerith is actually BAD for Cloud because she's too pushy/abrasive. She's not helping him open up, she's just forcing him to go along with her and making him uncomfortable!"

All of this is of course infuriating, but I'd like to think I'm self-aware enough to know we are kind of guilty of the same thing. The majority of Tifa fans are SO happy about the kiss in Rebirth, while we're over here dismissing it because, one it's optional, and two Cloud is "obviously" using Tifa as a rebound or settling for her since Aerith is seemingly unavailable. And to us, yeah, it IS obvious. But that's not how Cloti fans see it at all.

We can talk until we're blue in the face about how TIFA deserves better than Cloud because she shouldn't be the second choice - the one he settles for. But I think most people who really love Cloti genuinely don't see it that way. In their eyes, she's NOT second-best. Cloud loved her all along and this kiss is finally confirming that. And nothing we say will dissuade them, just as nothing they say will actually change OUR minds about Clerith.

It is honestly really difficult for me to try and see the story and romance the way Cloti fans do, but I know the reverse is also true. Both groups of fans interpret the characters and relationships differently. The compilation ALLOWS us to interpret them differently. And this is why the ship war for a game from 1997 is still raging on.

Because both camps are certain they're right, they defend their position viciously. Sometimes that means invading the "other side" to tell them how wrong they are. This discussion/rant was prompted by a Cloti fan on a Clerith vid who wanted to debate MY comment about how wonderful the ship was and how good they were for each other. He was "confused" and "concerned" because Clerith fans were reading the story wrong or warping it to suit our ship.

I wanted to tell him, "buddy that's what YOU'RE doing". I wanted to write a goddamn essay explaining why Clerith is canon actually. But considering in my INITIAL comment that he first responded to I'd already brought up why I thought Clerith was great, and he was IGNORING that... I knew it would be pointless. There is nothing I could possibly say that would change his mind. There is nothing he could possibly say that would change my mind.

As long as both sides of this war are fully convinced they're right, this war is going to be endless and brutal. And that's why my absolute biggest fear for part 3 is an open, ambiguous ending regarding the ships. Maybe it will canonize nothing. Maybe it will canonize BOTH by having the actual ending change depending on which girl the player favors.

Either route will offer no relief to this eternal battle. I would honestly prefer for Cloti to explicitly and unambiguously win than an ending where neither girl does. Because I can accept a loss. I can accept being told that actually I WAS interpreting the story wrong, but I'll only accept it from the text itself. If anything, a Cloti ending might encourage me to go through the entire compilation again trying to view it with that canon couple in mind. I'm sure I'd see things differently, even if I'd always have a place in my heart for Clerith. And I sincerely hope that if Clerith were to win that Cloti fans could do the same.

All I know is that I'm sick and tired of this ship war. I personally have never gone after Cloti fans or engaged in Cloti content with the intent to debate or hate on the ship. But I don't speak for all Cleriths. I'm sure at least a few fans of my ship are guilty too. I have seen many obnoxious Cloti fans invading our spaces to disparage us - mostly on YouTube and Twitch, less here on Tumblr - but I KNOW there are plenty of kind Cloti fans who just happily enjoy their ship and leave us to ours as well.

At the end of the day, regardless of how part 3 ends things, I just wish we could live in peace. Please enjoy your ship. Your interpretation of the text and romance is valid. But so is mine. If neither side can agree, then the best thing to do is leave each other alone.

#clerith #cloti #ship and let ship #final fantasy vii #i tried to be as neutral as possible about this topic so i think it's only fair is fans of the other ship are can see & chime in too #but please. PLEASE. literally the point of this is that i'm sick of arguing #hardcore fans of one of these ships WILL NOT be persuaded to the other side. don't even try. #i don't want to debate about this. i just want everyone to live in peace #final fantasy #shout out to fans who primarily ship cloud with dudes btw. i've never seen y'all cause any drama. non-problematic kings/queens right there!

[lilac-rose-writes]

The Hitman's Potty Guard- Things I Initially Missed

another one of kid's retorts! he's so snarky <3

(don't mind me modelling my looks after the new trailer heheh)

2. i wonder how anyone knew kid was involved, let alone ted. jerome centres his all on lily, so it's clear he hasn't been told much. as i've tested before, it is possible for monty's legs to be broken in lily's mission and for us to still have enough apples to continue, so i'm going to presume that doing so is why he's in a wheelchair in kindergarten 2. that means he wouldn't have been at show & tell, so couldn't have seen kid arrive with billy & lily. we know the twins don't know who cindy is since we're the ones to introduce her to them. maybe buggs told them? he's used as the muscle in cain's not able- but this is morning time, and it doesn't seem like they'd go out of their way to associate with him outside of business matters. perhaps they eavesdropped on their teachers or the principal? how much does applesoft know? clearly not everything, because it technically wasn't kid who killed the principal, but a monster. either that or they know he released one. but how?? i have so many questions.

3. ted is,,, very quick to give up

4. ozzy only acts hostile towards the new kids because the only information he has about them is bad! before kid gives him the battery, he only sees them as the reason why his friends are gone. but as soon as he's presented evidence that says otherwise, he's far more welcoming, going as far as to let kid play with him even without having washed his hands. he's just lonely :(

5. it isn't that everyone else has longer legs & bodies than kid in kindergarten 2. he just has a short head in comparison

6. even while cindy hits him, ted never once makes a move to fight back.

7. this whole interaction lol

8. if you go inside with ted, nobody asks about his passbook. it's like he's a ghost

9. ted is such a terrible actor. "there's so much stuff that i uh... want to buy" he says, staring at monty's vast collection of nothing. he doesn't sell anything at lunch.

10. i spoke to dr danner once the lights were back on, and there was a big glitch. he started saying his dialogue from morning time, then headed off to stand in front of cindy. everything got all jumbled hdjfkhjkdf

11. ozzy is down to commit murder

so concludes THPG! :D

#kindergarten 2 #kindergarten #kindergarten game #kindergarten ted #kindergarten kid #kindergarten ozzy #kindergarten felix #etc etc etc #kindergarten 2 replay

[hauntsthenarrative]

Baby it's Cold Outside

Her mother had always been cold. No, not true. More like an ember, small, but hot enough to burn. To hurt. It made Shauna a dangerous woman, the potential in her enough to blow up the whole world should she choose to do it.

It made Callie angry.

Angry that she didn’t try, in anything, for fear of what was inside of her. Angry that no matter how deep she reached, Shauna’s heart would always be just out of grasp, her soul too far away to take notice of her existence. She wasn’t a bad mom exactly, but she only did what she needed to do. Nothing more, nothing less. And that hurt worse than anything else.

...

But that’s okay! Because since she can remember, Callie had a loving father. He really did cherish her, his little girl, and it made her feel proud, happy even, to be loved in that way. Back when the furniture store was doing well, and she was still kid enough to be ignorant of her mom’s devastating neutrality, Dad would occasionally pick her up from her school early on Fridays, bags of candy in hand. Callie didn’t like lollipops or gummy bears though, and eventually, after about two Fridays, Jeff had narrowed it down to the fact that she loved chocolate. After another two Fridays, it was evident that Three Musketeers were her favorites. Every time she would gleefully unwrap one though, her dad would get a wistful gleam, lips twisting a bit. 

She finally asked about it one day, as innocent as any other 5 year old kid.

“Daddy, why do you look sad?” 

Her Dad, though surprised at her comment, didn’t ignore the question or brush it off.

“I knew a girl who liked those, once.” He had stated, waving in the general direction of Callie’s hand, which clutched the candy bar tightly. “She was pretty like you. Smart. Had big ol’ eyes too.” He had chuckled, leaned back, and looked over at her.

“What happened to her?” Her dad had sobered up, an anguished grimace gracing his face. 

“She went on an impromptu vacation, of a sort. Never came back, not really.” He stared down at his knees. Callie frowned.

“Dad? What does impromptu mean?” Jeff smiled at her.

“I don’t know Cals. Want to go to the library and find out?” Callie nodded, and the pair set off. Still, she couldn’t shake the thoughts of the Three Musketeers girl, and wondered why she left forever when a vacation is only supposed to be temporary.

...

When she turned seven, her dad got busier. Fridays stopped being as common an occurrence as usual, and eventually it was her mother picking her up instead. 

She would bring her Milkyway bars instead. Callie had frowned the first time. 

“How come you bring me Milkyway?” She had asked one day. Shauna looked confused.

“Your dad told me you liked chocolate. Besides, these were my favorites at your age.” 

“Oh. Cool, I’m like you now!” Her mom had laughed, and sat in silence the rest of the ride. The thought had, at the time, seemed more reassuring than the fact that she might resemble the mysterious vacation girl who vanished. Though, it did still hurt a bit that Shauna hadn’t even bothered asking Dad which chocolate brand was her favorite. 

...

At nine years old, Callie had woken up to a torrent of snow, the storm brewing early in the morning. She didn’t even know what time it was, but if the branches slamming against her window were any indication, it was the perfect winter day to go out. Callie had bundled up in layers, slipped on her boots, then her mittens, and headed out. She was used to doing things alone, being an only child. Even in school she did stuff independently, as other than Ilana, she didn’t have many friends. She didn’t know why though. 

Even so, she could entertain herself easily, and as soon as she stepped into the powder, she started making snow angels. She decided to make one for each member of her family. The first one was her, the second, with a bun made of leaves, was her mom, and the third was holding a bag of candy, her dad. Laying back down next to her own, she decided to make another. This one would be for the Three Musketeers girl, the one who left on vacation. It didn’t seem right that she hadn’t come back, so Callie would bring her back. Above the angel, she drew an arrow and considered what to name her. She came up with the name ‘Sophia’. She could fix that later, whenever Dad decided to tell her more about ‘Sophia’. 

She lay down in the snow once more and closed her eyes, focusing on feeling the pinpricks of wet that dripped lazily in the wind, eventually settling on her pale skin. She breathed in the cold air, and suddenly heard a scream. Looking around, she came to the conclusion that she must have been imagining it, and turned on her side, dark blue jacket sinking further into the snow. 

“Nononono-” She heard suddenly, and then listened to the echo of her father’s cries of reassurance, confused. A weight suddenly tackled her and Callie gasped, too shocked to scream. Her mother’s face looked back at her, eyes full of concern and tears streaming down her face. “Jac- Callie, oh my God, Callie.” Callie blinked slowly. Shauna used her thumbs to scrape back bits of snow from her cheeks.

“Mom?” Callie had asked, and her mom started crying, holding her close. A warmth bloomed in Callie. She had never held her like that before. 

“Want to come inside and get some hot chocolate sweetheart?” Shauna brushed hair out of Callie’s eyes, while Callie nodded absentmindedly, a big smile on her face.

...

As they drank their hot chocolate, her dad was watching them cautiously from the living room. She saw him leave at some point when she started telling her mom about Ilana’s new Barbie doll, and how pretty her hair was. Shauna had smiled, listening to Callie’s chatter. When she had settled down, Shauna then asked who Sophia was. Callie, basking in the rare warmth of her mom, blinked, then smiled.

“A girl dad told me about.”

“A girl?” Asked her mother.

“Yeah. She liked Three Musketeers chocolate like me. Then she went on a vacation and didn’t come back.” Her mom frowned.

“I never knew a girl like that called Sophia.”

“Well I don’t actually know if she’s even called Sophia. Dad never said. Said she was pretty though, and had big eyes.” Shauna had looked a bit sick then. 

“I think I did know her actually.” Callie smiled.

“Of course you do! She’s in the snow. I brought her home!” Callie points to the backyard, where ‘Sophia’s’ snow angel lay still on the floor. Her mom fidgeted with her hands for a bit.

“You know what honey, you should go warm yourself up with a shower.” Callie let out a small ‘okey dokey’ and skipped up the stairs, leaving her mug entirely drained. While bathing, she thought she heard crying. It was probably just the wind.

...

The next day Callie went outside early again. She made a snowman this time. Then she sat and stared at it, waiting for her mom to come running outside again. She never did. After a while, Callie headed back inside, frowning. Her mom sat at a table with coffee and a tired look.

“Why would you go outside like that, Callie? You know how upset I was yesterday.” Callie stuttered, and it wasn’t until years later that she figured out her response should have been something along the lines of ‘Because I wanted you to look at me like you loved me again’.

“Sorry mommy.” Her voice was small. Shauna had only shrugged and sipped at her drink.

“ Let me know next time, all right?” Callie pouted and slipped around the kitchen table.

“Can I have some hot chocolate?” She asked, and Shauna smiled sadly.

“It’s a bit early don’t you think?” She patted Callie’s head and walked up the stairs. Cold. 

...

Callie’s mom never did make her hot chocolate again.

#yellowjackets #shauna shipman #callie sadecki #jeff sadecki #jackie taylor #character study #shauna and callie #yj #yj spoilers #jackieshauna #callie sadecki deserves better #think piece #this is me yapping

[francesderwent]

as much as I generally dislike the use of the trope, Eddie Munson’s “as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen” could kill any of Murray’s little relationship insights stone dead

#why do we accept Murray as a voice of truth? #I get it I guess he’s supposed to be this objective third party #seeing the story the way we are and voicing how it ought to go #but he never seems to have enough EVIDENCE #no matter what they’ve TOLD him he wasn’t THERE for anything that mattered #and his reading of the relationship is ALWAYS ALWAYS reductive!!!!! #because he is a man who has literally built a bunker to get away from all society! he doesn’t believe in the importance of relationships!! #so he’s just like ‘you experienced a thing. you should have sex about it and move forward’ #which is??? so OFFENSIVE to the real bond that these characters have formed!!! #as if that could resolve everything! as if that alone was the meaning of everything! #it’s not for Nancy and Jonathan and it DEFINITELY isn’t for Hopper and Joyce #Eddie on the other hand. he admits he doesn’t know what happened #all he knows is what he saw!! #and he saw Nancy DIVE INTO A PORTAL TO A HELL DIMENSION after Steve!!! #so what does he say? #does he tell him to try to land some end of the world sex? NO #he manifestly DOES NOT #he says ‘that was a sign of TRUE LOVE’ #and you should GET HER BACK #he even (lol) gives Steve something to wear FOR HIS MODESTY #Murray’s like ‘you went through an experience together so you should have sex about it’ #Eddie’s like ‘okay you went through an experience together and it kinda seems like you might be leaning towards having sex about it’ #‘but PLEASE control yourself for a hot minute and then pull yourself together and FIX THIS RELATIONSHIP’ #‘rebuild the foundation stronger!!!’ #he said YOU SHOULD GET HER BACK #to have and to hold babes!! none of this fleeting ‘get it out of our systems’ bullshit!!! #this is not an anti-jancy post or an anti-jopper post it is only an anti-Murray post #cate liveblogs! #stranger things s4

[ancient-day]

Interesting.

So on Akechi's 9/3 visit to Leblanc, if you tell him you have plans at the start of the conversation, he'll dismiss himself and leave right away.

But if you carry the conversation until the usual prompt pops up to spend time with a confidant, you can tell him "Hold that thought" rather than the usual "Decline," and he'll stay.

He seems especially sensitive to rejection this time, and that makes sense considering the initial Leblanc visit and public backlash.

#jest replays p5r (gayass%) #He doesn't even outwardly look hurt when you reject him but the fact that Akira changes his delivery #when turning him down this rank kinda seems intentional idk i always overanalyze lmao #Bonus: LOVE the evidence that Sojiro and Akechi chatted enough for Akechi to call him Boss #and for Sojiro to have asked about his living situation enough to learn how he's paying for school #Dad instinct ready to go haha I wonder if Futaba told him about what Akechi told them though #I don't really see why she would have but you never know