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rcvcgers · 1 month ago

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Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter twelve: what i've become

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

previous part | next part coming soon

oh yeah, i made a spotify playlist for this <3

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you and caleb prepare for the professor's meeting. when you see each other again, caleb is unsettled by what he sees.

word count: 14.2k words

warnings: please, please, PLEASE read the trigger warnings before proceeding. lightly proofread...it ain't perfect!

author's note: thank you all so much for 10k hits on ao3! i love and appreciate you all so much! it means the world to me! <3

oh and remember...the narrative isn't completely objective!

trigger warning: death/murder, bodily harm, manipulation, self deprecating thoughts, experimentation, exploitation, self loathing, angst, professor lucius is a sadist, gun violence, lucius is a creep if you squint, slight suicidal thoughts, let me know if i missed anything

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @lemonwithstupidity

Caleb stares at the computer, his foot tapping against the ground. Something inside of his chest urges him forward, to close the distance between him and the small machine. He wears his Colonel uniform, the hat hanging on a hook on his bedroom door. He sits on the bed and his gaze never breaks away from the laptop, his foot slowly coming to a stop.

It’s a bad idea to try and access the database twice.

It’s an even worse idea to use Josephine’s login information to get inside.

Caleb has always played it safe. He has always followed orders like the good soldier he was trained to be. As the Colonel, he rarely ever questions his higher ups, except for the Professor, and always takes the time to figure out which route is the safest for him and his men. He drags his feet over any and all mission plans that he has but when it comes to you…he wants to be reckless. He knows that the Professor will be expecting a calculated plan to extradite you, to pluck you from amidst the chaos, so the last thing he will be anticipating is chaos.

Professor Lucius knows that Colonel Xia plays it safe, so what will he think when the boy whose flame he tried to smother as a child is the one to come up with the plan?

The Colonel inches towards the computer. The screen illuminates right as he sits down, the fabric of his uniform constricting his body, pushing into his flesh as if he is being held down by chains and restraints. His hands feel heavy as he navigates himself back to Ever’s database, leather gloves protecting him from the keyboard and its desire to dig deeper into Ever’s plans. He plugs in Josephine’s login information, staring at the screen, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest despite its slow beat, and watches as the server processes his information.

The screen refreshes and he is met with V-03’s project file — your project file — right in front of him, exactly where he left it. Caleb slowly draws in a breath, his shoulders growing tense as he navigates the folders, his eyes scanning the screen and plethora of files to see if any of them are new. His skin tingles from beneath the Colonel’s uniform, the weight of his role and rank causing his mind to splinter, forced to play it safe in this moment as to not cause any kind of alarm.

One of them are new. It is labeled For His Eyes Only and it sits at the very bottom of the list, almost as if it were hidden in plain sight.

Did Caleb miss this from before? He could have swore that the file wasn’t with the rest before, it has to be new.

The label, though, feels like some sick and twisted calling card, and invitation to look upon the mess that he has inadvertently created. Just another reminder to never leave your side once he gets you back.

He still clicks on the folder. He knows he has to see what he allowed to happen. He must look upon the actions of his consequences.

Has the Professor truly gone mad? Has he pushed you past the boundaries of morality and ethics, succumbing you to a fate far worse than death? Has he contorted your face beyond belief, turning you into a creature that children will have nightmares about?

Has the Professor turned you into Wanderer?

The screen is black. Caleb hesitates moving out of the folder, waiting for something to happen, his ears and back of his neck growing hot from shame and displeasure. He is about to move out of the folder when the video boots up, a small loading screen flickering to life before disappearing.

The screen transforms into the image of a cell with a lump hidden beneath thin blankets. A sire blares through the speakers, a sound that Caleb knows all too well. The mass from beneath the blankets begin to move, a pair of legs swinging over the edge of the bed, your tired face and messy hair being displayed to the camera that hangs in the corner of the cell.

You look exhausted, hunched over, clutching your stomach with closed eyes. Pain is carved into your face, a remainder that it is Caleb’s fault for you living and pushing through the worst of the worst.

If Caleb could remember what his time was like at Ever, only just a kid who had to look after himself and her, he bets that you have it worse than he did. He was just a kid, after all, or maybe the Professor is just a sick fuck who experiments on whoever walks through the doors or he deems to be interesting.

But you? You were caught in the crossfire, a loose end that Professor Lucius needed to tie, to eradicate your existence so you do not burn down what he has worked so hard to create and build for himself these past few decades.

Caleb leans towards the screen, his fingers sliding across the glass of the computer. He traces the small appearance of your face, his heart twisting and churning inside his chest, trembling at the idea of you being forever changed because of the professor’s evil ways.

You open your eyes and look around, a small yawn escaping your lips.

Oh, how Caleb misses watching you wake up, slowly processing that you aren’t asleep anymore. You’d look around the room while stretching out your body, letting out a big yawn while he laid in bed beside you, waiting patiently because he wanted to start his day when you start yours. You’d turn to him and have that cute, tired smile on your face, calling him a stalker for watching you sleep despite finding it annoyingly romantic. He would have pulled you back down with him and slowly covered your face in kisses while you tried to escape.

Escape…

Caleb shudders. You don’t stretch or look around. You look forward and straighten your posture. Your face remains stoic, void of any and all emotion, once the sleep has finally slipped from your body. You remain as still as possible, becoming just another one of Ever’s dolls that sits upon a shelf, forever waiting to see if the Professor wants to play with you today or if you’ll be spared of the pain and agony that comes with his games.

“Soon,” Caleb murmurs to the computer screen, speaking as if you can hear him, “you’ll be back in my arms soon.”

Your head twitches, slowly turning your chin up as you look straight into the camera.

The room is colder than you anticipated. One of the nurses were nice enough to gift you an extra blanket as the snowstorm raged outside Ever’s hidden base. You watched the snowflakes pass by your cell’s tiny window. It was one of the few ways to pass the time at the Ever facility, really. It was either that, being experimented on, or interacting with Viper alongside others in the common areas when you were allowed out of your cell.

To interact with others is a privilege, after all, a privilege that one earns. That is what the Professor taught you.

The blinking red light caught your attention first. One you were out of sleep’s haze, you couldn’t help but noticing the flickering light. It’s slow pulses luring you in. You turn your gaze towards it, tilting your head to the side. You push off of the bed and approach the corner of the room, looking up as the camera follows your movement. You slowly reach out for the camera, standing up on your toes, knowing that it is a losing battle to fight.

Aren’t all war consisted of small skirmishes? Perhaps this is one you are meant to lose, one that you know that you will not come back from. Or maybe, just maybe, this final battle will be decisive and show you what is in store for you and your future.

A piece of you wishes for a quick and clean death, to slip away into the darkness of permanent sleep so that you do not have to fight for your right to live.

Another part of you has a desire to live, to see through the pain and torture so that you will be able to have your revenge on the Professor and Ever for all of the things that they have done to you and others.

The red light shuts off. You let out a quiet sigh and lower yourself back onto the ground. The sound of dragging boots against concrete floors catches your attention. You lean back on your heels, eyes looking outside the close proximity of your cell. You push through the pain that resides inside of your stomach, the intense burning feeling as your intestines slowly stitch themselves back together, your intestinal lining returning to its previous healthy state.

You absolutely detest how your body puts itself back together. You hate how you can feel each and every one of your ripped muscles and tendons reach for each other, connecting in a fiery heat that can only be described as pure agony and pain.

You should be used to it by now. You know exactly what is to come when you wake up from the forced slumber, your dreams haunting your every waking moment as you remain curled up in your cell, your sobs and cries bouncing off of the concrete walls, deafening to those who listen.

The Professor claims that he is doing this to protect you, to prepare you for what the real world has to offer. He told you that the pain you feel will make you stronger, better, for the times when you will meed it the most. He says that you have been blind for so long, for allowing yourself to fall in love with an animal who needs to be caged.

You didn’t believe him at first, holding onto that hope that your loyal boyfriend, a lethal weapon who you have loved for so long, would burst through Ever’s doors and steal you away, saving you from eternal torture and leaping into paradise.

But he didn’t come.

The days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. About to be eight months to the day, to be exact.

Every day that Caleb did not save you, you were beaten and screamed at, berated for being a fool who thinks that she will be saved. So, what did the Professor graciously do?

He made you better. Upgraded you, evolved you into someone that you can barely recognize.

Sure, you are able to heal yourself at incredible speeds, a mere paper cut is gone within seconds and you can grow a finger back just a day after it has been chopped off. Your skin may remain the same color, your old scars having disappeared, fading into nothingness. You’re stronger now, too, reaction times hitting you at super speed. He’s made you better, yes, and has turned you into someone who can take care of themselves. At least, that’s what he wants the public to see.

But you know the truth. You know the ugliness that hides beneath your skin, the way your muscles are perpetually aching, the way your body is constantly in fight or flight, having to defend yourself from the environment that Ever has set in place among its test subjects. You know that no matter how much you bleed, you blood will come back just in time before you die of blood loss. You know that whenever you heal yourself, or others for that matter, that your sanity and mind fractures itself, the glass of your mind stressed beyond belief as you survive through the days. You are on the verge of a breakdown, your mental state hanging in a delicate state, teetering the line between remaining sane and the pure bliss of your animalistic instincts.

An animal that will obey Professor Lucius, of course.

What was it that the Professor said? Whenever an animal is trapped, it will chew off its own leg to escape?

It’s all thanks to him that you’ll be able to grow a new one.

You remember the first time they beat you. You were helpless, strapped to a chair. You begged the Professor and other scientists to let you go, that this is all one big mistake and that if they were to release you, you’d claim that nothing happened and

You silently return to your bed, sitting down with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You stare straight ahead, your eyes focusing on the bars that keep you inside the small cage.

A maniacal cackle echoes down the concrete hallway. Boots drag against the concrete floor, the sounds of its scrapes putting you on edge. Your eye twitches, your hands fumbling with the corner of the blanket, plucking at the leftover strings, trying to busy yourself and your mind before he comes.

Viper is one ugly son of a bitch. His scaled skin has always left you feeling uneasy, his black forked tongue getting a little too close for comfort when he comes near you, invading your personal space. His laughter is never welcoming or warm. It is a sign that bad things are to come, that the Professor is about to put you through another night of extreme pain.

Your eyes flicker to the camera, silently wondering who it was that was watching you.

A small sliver of hope strikes your chest, hoping that he watched. To see where you are, to make sure that you’re okay. You hold onto that small tiny speck of hope and hold it close to yourself. Sure enough, that speck dies every time. It dies whenever you remember that it has been eight months since you’ve seen him.

Eight months of experimentation.

Eight months of torture.

Eight months of crying yourself to sleep as your arm grows back.

Eight months of shedding your old skin and stepping into your new body, a weapon that the Professor can use at his beck and call.

Eight months of losing every bit of yourself despite being able to remember every single fucking thing that they have done to you.

Eight months of your own Evol fighting against the Toring Chip that was implanted at the base of your neck, ready to send electric shocks throughout your body whenever you misbehave or disobey orders.

Eight months of falling out of love with the person who vowed to protect you.

“So,” Viper’s exaggerated ’s’ sounds are like nails being dragged against a chalkboard, shivers running down your spine, all of the hair on your body shooting up. He comes into view and stands before you, tilting his head to the side as his lips curl into a smirk. “What did he do to you this time?”

You don’t immediately respond. You blink at him, your fingers stopping when your eyes meet. He relaxes himself onto the bars of your cell, an open display for all to see the Professor’s latest success. His thin pupils irk you, the way his eyes dart back and forth, constantly taking in new information before striking.

“Come on,” Viper quietly cackles, pushing his face up against the metal bars. Your blood runs cold. “What did he do to you? You took a long time to die. Made me lose a bet with Frank.”

“Arsenic poisoning,” you respond, voice strong and definitive. You narrow your gaze on Viper, watching as his body shudders from his laughter. “He wanted to see what happens on the inside of a body.”

The high pitched screeches, the low chuckles when he tries to catch his breath…oh how he was mocking you.

“Next time, die quicker for me?” Viper’s laughter instantly dies, turning serious as he grabs the bars of your enclosure. “You’d save me a whole lot of money.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, looking him up and down before giving him a nod. The quicker you die, the quicker you can get the pain of healing yourself over with…and so Viper can get the measly twenty diamonds he recklessly bets.

“Breakfast,” he slips open the slot at the bottom of the metal door and kicks the tray through.

Food — well, slop is a better word for it — sprays the walls, sticking to the dark gray cement, slowly dripping and rolling down the sides as gravity tugs it down. You wipe your cheek where some of the slop hit you, the awful stench filling your nostrils. You turn your head away and hug the blanket closer to your body.

You don’t even take a bite out of the food or lick the excess off of the pad of your thumb. You don’t feel like being poisoned again so you’ll starve yourself until you give into the hunger that claws the inside of your stomach.

“The Professor has a surprise for you,” Viper continues and watches you with a close eye. Your gazes meet and he chuckles, his hands pushing through the barrier of the bars. “He finally gets to show you off, his special soldier…”

There is contempt behind Viper’s voice. You pay it no attention, though, always knowing that Viper lives off of the Professor’s constantly validation. He hates being out of the spotlight, inhabiting the darkness of the crowd, a place where you are so desperate to be. To Viper, you are in his place and he will be so happy when you eventually crash out and the Professor finds a way to permanently kill you.

Silence fills the cell. You look away and out the window, the snow coming down harder than you anticipated. It will be another freezing night. Two thin blankets are the only thing you have to defend yourself from the cold. Perhaps the Professor’s next experiment is to see the effects of frost bite on the body. Maybe he’ll throw you outside and see how long it takes for you to freeze to death.

“You’re quiet today,” Viper comments with a sadistic giggle, “is it because I’m not as handsome as the Colonel?”

You freeze.

“Are my eyes not the perfect shade of purple? It’s a shame they’re yellow instead,” Viper tilts his head, tongue swiping over the piercings that hang from his lips, the mechanical parts of his skull catching your eye. “I wonder…how will you react when you see him today?”

You do not respond. You stare out the window again and stare at the morning sun as it moves above the horizon, floating into the sky.

Do you even want to see him?

You do not know how to react whenever Caleb comes up. Whenever your mind drifts to him, you become so overwhelmed with emotions.

Anger. Hatred. Love. Yearning. Desire. Sadness. Lust. Resentment. Confusion. Desperation.

The Professor has beaten you countless times and has used him as the reason for why you are so broken, why you were chosen to be his special subject. If it weren’t for Caleb, you would have never been in this mess. If it weren’t fort for Caleb, you would not have died so many god damn times and be forced to feel your body rebuild itself after the Professor has destroyed it.

A piece of you knows that Caleb never wanted this to happen. You know that he has tried so hard to keep you away from the Professor, especially after the meeting the Professor forced you to translate not too long ago. Deep down, you know that Caleb Xia would never hurt you.

So where is he? Why is he not here to protect you from the people he has deemed to be the scum of the earth? Where is the man who vowed to protect you after endless nights together, the man who promised to put his life on the line to keep you away from the hands of men like the Professor?

Maybe Professor Lucius is right. Maybe he did want to hurt you, payback for when you shut him out as an angsty teenager, for running away after you promised to go back inside, for letting him in so easily after all of these years of desperately pushing away the boy you fell head over heels for in your childhood.

You’re weak. You’re so fucking pathetic.

Caleb Xia never loved you, did he? His sweet words have been deceptive from the beginning. Besides, the entire time of your clearly fake relationship, he has been so enamored with her that you have been an afterthought.

And yet, you still feel sympathy for the man. He himself was in the same position you are. He probably walked along these halls and touched the same parts of the wall you did. Caleb probably dreams of this place, being subjected to the atrocities that he endured as a child.

At the end of the day, though, your overwhelming emotions can only make you feel one thing: numb.

The funny thing about the whole experimentation and Toring Chip process is that you are forced to remember everything. Your body simply will not let you forget what has been done to you. Unlike the other beings who were subjected to the Toring Chip, Caleb included, their minds and memories have been wiped clean, a fresh start to Ever to imprint their beliefs onto.

But you? You remember.

In the beginning it worked. You could barely remember a thing when the chip was first implanted into the back of your neck. You didn’t even remember your name when you first came out of your sleep, the Professor had to remind you of your own identity what what your purpose is at Ever. You blindly believed him, allowed him to poke hundreds of needles into your skin, to tear your body apart layer by bloody layer.

When your body evolved, though…that’s when it hit you.

All of the memories flooded your brain, a painful relapse of everything that you have ever been through. You could feel your Evol, your power, fighting against the Toring Chip. The machines did not register this change. All it saw was that your body was putting itself back together again.

How could the Professor have missed the fact that your Evol helped repair your hippocampus? It completely undone all of his work to make you his beloved soldier, a weapon that he can use whenever he wishes. He simply cannot experiment on you and then press the erase button on the trigger, that doesn’t work anymore.

You are smart, though. Cunning. Adaptable. You learned very quickly that the only way to survive this place is to pretend that you are as clueless and blank as they wish for you to be.

That, my friend, is the truth. It is the cruelest punishment that will ever be dealt to you in the game of life.

You scoff and turn to look at Viper. His hands hang through the bars of your enclosure, mocking you that he can leave whenever he pleases despite still being under Professor Lucius’ thumb. You slowly approach the bars and the reptilian man does not move, he doesn’t even flinch as you give him a warm smile, luring him into a false sense of security.

You take his hands. Your fingertips glide across the scales of his hands, scales that morph into human skin. It unsettles you, the coolness of his body to your warm touch. Can’t let it show, though. You keep quiet, basking in the silence of your plan as Viper slowly pushes into your touch. Your eyes flicker to his, a teasing smile crossing your lips.

He must feel as lonely as you do in here. He probably has never felt the respectable touch of a caring person before, having been subjected to countless experiments and indoctrination before you ever arrived.

“Do you still wish to protect him?” Viper asks, his tongue poking out from between his lips before darting back inside. “Do you still love him?”

You grip on his hands begins to tighten. Slowly, you raise your gaze from your connected limbs, traveling up his body piece by piece, taking in the leather of his outfit, the snake skin that he proudly wears, before finally landing on the green and yellow hues of his eyes. Viper begins to struggle against your grip. At first, he begins to try and pull away but you don’t let him. He tries to take a step back but you keep him close, drawing him right back into the cell bars. His breathing grows frantic, eyes flickering between you and your connected hands.

“Love is such a funny concept,” you whisper to yourself, a small grin spreading across your face as you use all of the force you can muster up, snapping Viper’s wrists.

You go through the same routine when the scientists come to collect you. Alarms begin to blare out and soldiers line up outside your cell with their guns pointed at you, guns that are meant to kill Wanderers and Evoled humans, not normal people like you once were. You turn and face the wall with your hands behind your head, the clanging bars of the cell sliding to the side as a scientist cautiously approaches. They slap handcuffs around your wrists, the blue lights flickering from deep inside the darkened metal. The cuffs are a mere formality, a way to keep you in check instead of actually holding you back.

What you were truly afraid of were the soldiers. At any moment, they can unleash pure hellfire upon you, the metal bullets ripping through your body, tearing you apart with such ease.

It’s not like you can’t die. You’ll revive just a few hours later, sobbing and trembling as your aching and burning muscles reattach, your nerves on fire as it registers every single process of healing.

They move you from your cell and parade you down the hallway where all of the other experiments that the Professor has tucked away can see. They hoot and holler as you pass by. They launch taunts and threats at you, their words seeping into your skin despite you not showing them just how much it unnerves you.

To them, you are Professor Lucius’ most prized possession. The one person they should aspire to be. The toy that he plays with every single day. The one person they dream about killing so they can take your seat under Professor Lucius’ gentle eye. They wish to tear you limb from limb, ripping your beating heart out of your chest so that they are spared a sliver of the same kindness that he shows to you.

Little do they know that your existence is pure torture. Every breath you take is noted, jotted down in a scientist’s notes just in case you decided to strangle yourself inside your cell. They watch you at all hours of the day. The cameras in your cell and main areas are perpetually on, the red light slowly blinking — breathing — as you are forced to undergo the Professor’s sick and twisted fantasies.

He has put you inside a cell for all to see. Scientists and soldiers can pass you by at any time of the day, laughing and snickering at your plight. Some days, the days that Professor Lucius decides to punish you by starving you, they walk by with bits and pieces of food. Freshly basked bread, rations from the solider’s emergency food supplies. They wave it in front of your face, watching as you reach out to pluck the scraps from their hands before they pull it away, laughing at the idea of you begging.

Ever has changed you. Will it be for the better? Or will you completely transform into a monster that you never asked to become?

The door to the holding cell slides open. The echoes of the other experiments’ yells and cries are now muffled from the distance as you step inside, slightly nodding your head at the scientists who sit inside. The usual scent of bleach and chemicals stings the inside of your nostrils. It makes you nauseous as the memories of previous deaths flood your mind, the scientists already beginning to clean the room as you’re curled up into a ball on the floor, sobbing as pain overtakes your body. The door slams shut behind you and the handcuffs are taken off, your wrists sore from how tight they always are.

“V-03, you know the drill,” the first scientist says.

You suck in a breath and nod, knowing that if you speak you will be slapped or tased. You circle around the table and glance at what it holds: a Fleet uniform, hat, and a single gun. A shiver runs down your spine, the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

You bite back the questions that fill your mind. You do not say a word and sit in the metal chair. The thin material of your pants is not thick enough to combat the chill that seeps into your skin, putting you even more on edge than you already are. You try to steady your heartbeat, eyes flickering around the room until they settle onto the corner where the camera sits.

The scientists are at your sides. They begin to strap you into the chair, the restraints tight and coarse against your skin. The sensation is familiar to you. You two are no longer strangers. Your skin has adjusted to the constant restraints and is much thicker now but your trembling heart remains the same.

The red light slowly blinks. You draw in a breath, the red light grows brighter. You slowly exhale, and the light dies.

Are you watching me? You think to yourself. Do you see what you have done to me?

“Good morning, V-03,” Professor Lucius’ voice echoes from behind.

Your posture immediately straightens, the muscle memory of his particular routine settling into your bones, your eyes set to look straight forward and at the door of the holding cell. Your eyes do not move as he enters. He passes off a folder to one of the scientists and waves them away, mumbling something you can barely hear. They leave with a small nod, the door slamming shut behind them.

The Professor settles into the chair in front of you. There is a small, sick smirk on his face. There always is. It is unsettling, always making you feel as if there is something that he knows about you that you do not even know about yourself.

“Good morning, Professor Lucius,” you respond in a monotone voice. You have to be sure to keep it level, not too happy but not too sad…obedient. Just the way he likes.

“We have big plans for you today, V-03,” the Professor’s smiles, his yellowed and rotten teeth flashing at you. He leans back into his chair, his knees moving far apart as he spreads his legs, getting comfortable. “Do you remember your friend from the Farspace Fleet? The General?”

Your heart lurches in your chest. The blood in your veins grows hot, your ears warming as you try your best to keep your composure. All you can bring yourself to do is nod in response, slowly blinking as your body struggles to stay in place.

In the back of your mind you think about the time you were in middle school. You and Caleb were running away from a teacher after you decided to cut class early. The two of you hid inside the janitor’s closet, tucked away behind the brooms and mops, using the sponges and bottles of soap as a way to hide. The teacher passed by the closet and hesitated, the two of you breathing so quietly, faces close together as you hid behind one of the hanging towels. Caleb had the biggest smile on his face but you were so terrified, never having broken a rule before. He promised to keep you safe, that he will take all of the blame off of your shoulders and tell the teachers he dragged you away with him in case the two of you got caught.

Thankfully, you never did.

“You are deep in thought, V-03. Would you care to enlighten me what you’re thinking about?” Professor Lucius adjusts himself in his seat, his dark eyes trained on you.

You don’t make a sound and simply look around the room when your eyes on the camera. The red light fades for a moment before coming back to life. You match your breaths with its pace.

Are you going to help me get out of this one too?

“The camera,” you begin, slowly speaking the words as if you are under the influence of the Toring Chip, an image that you have perfect over the last eight months since arriving at the facility, “is it you watching me? Or is somebody else wanting to take a look?”

The Professor lets out an amused chuckle, turning around to stare at the camera that sits up in the corner behind him. He does not immediately respond, taking his time in turning back around and formulating a response inside of his head. You know that this is him buying time. He is trying to figure out a response that will satisfy you — well, his loyal and obedient solider.

“There is a guest who has been checking in on you,” each word sends chills down your spine, your heart pounding to every single word, squeezing and contracting in and out, contorting itself inside your chest. “You will be seeing him soon. He will take part in the…demonstration that we will put on for the General.”

A demonstration…what could he possibly mean by that?

“Do not worry, V-03, you are safe here, nobody is going to hurt you,” the Professor calmly states.

As much as you hate to admit it, you believe in what he says. You know that he is the enemy, but he has kept you safe from the outside world, keeping you hidden behind concrete walls that will never seem to fall.

Despite knowing how much he has hurt you, you know that your mind is fractured beyond belief. Grief and trauma absorb your actions and emotions. You have become just like the animal that he spoke to you about. It is just a matter of time until you gnaw off your limbs in order to escape from this place.

“Your baseline,” the Professor speaks.

“Weeping willows decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish,” you act on instinct, knowing that if you were to hesitate or push back that Professor Lucius will hurt you again. You try to keep your heartbeat as slow as possible, to keep your eyes still and steady, to not give away the erratic emotions and turmoil that crash throughout your body and mind.

“A dog with no purpose is as good as dead. Are you a pet? Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.”

You stare into the camera and take a deep breath, watching as the camera gets closer, inspecting your eyes with a close look.

“What is it like to hold the hand of someone you love? Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.”

Your heart skips a beat. You think about Caleb and the first time you held hands. The Professor scribbles something into his notebook.

“Your baseline.”

“Weeping willows decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish.”

You blink. Your hands grow clammy.

“Do you feel like something is missing from your life? Companionship? Interlinked.”

“Interlinked.”

You heart yearns for a man that you do not wish to know anymore.

“Repeat after me: the void is dark and there is no one else there to help me.”

“The void is dark and there is no one else to help me.”

Where are you, Caleb? Why haven’t you found me yet?

“You are an integral part to the system. System. Interlinked.”

“System. Interlinked.”

Professor Lucius pauses. He does not speak. He leans forward, the camera moving with him, as they stare deep into your eyes. You try not to falter, remaining as still as humanly possible. You do not pull away from them, knowing that it will be a challenge to escape out of. Adding time onto your already lengthy sentence.

“Both baselines, V-03.”

“Weeping willows decay under the scorching sun with no water to flourish. The void is dark and there is no one else to help me,” the words burn themselves into your memory, into your tongue. An invisible way of Professor Lucius branding you as his, marking his territory.

The two of you know that if you were to somehow escape his grasp, to flee from the prison he holds you inside of, he will be able to bring you back to him with those two simple sentences. You will revery back into the shell of a human being you are now, forever chained to him and his crimes, another casualty in the bloody massacre he has participated in as the ring leader.

The room falls silent, the whirring from the camera no longer filling your ears like an unpalatable white noise that you cannot escape from. Even in your dreams you hear the sound of his quiet interrogator, an unfeeling machine that will rip you to shreds the moment it gets the chance.

You truly are alone in this world, aren’t you?

The Professor snaps his fingers. The doors open and a single scientist enters the room. They hand him a date pad, one that you have only seen a handful of times before in the past couple of weeks. You gently bite the inside of your cheek, just enough of it so they will not be able to notice, and watch as the person leaves, the door slamming shut behind them.

“V-03, I will be regaining control of your body now. We will need to undergo a few last…measures to ensure that our demonstration for the Farspace Fleet goes as smoothly as possible. You can understand why we cannot allow ourselves to have any mistakes in front of the General, seeing how he is our most valuable customer,” the Professor speaks while typing away on the clear tablet.

You close your eyes, just for a brief moment, and slowly fill your lungs with as much air as possible. The taps of the Professor’s fingertips coming to a slow pause. You open your eyes.

A rush of ice covers your skin. Your consciousness is submerged beneath the shadows of your mind, your bodily autonomy being snatched from your very hands as it feels like you are forced to remain on a sinking ship in the arctic. You are forced to watch as your body scan is pulled up on the screen of his tablet, your once loose and relaxed limbs growing rigid and tough to move.

Your face relaxes and you can feel your lips curl up into a fake and plastic smile. The professor stands up and sets the tablet down. He extends his hands towards the restraints that hold you down. He slowly releases them from your body and you can feel the sensation of pins and needles stabbing into your skin as the material falls off of your body.

As much as you try to fight against the Toring Chip’s control, you are unable to move your body. Now that your tormentor has released you from the restraints, you are faced to reckon with the numbness of your hands and limbs, the way your brain has been detached from calling the shots and instead being replaced by a machine.

The Professor picks up the clear tablet and flicks his finger across the screen. Your body stands and takes a step forward.

“Good job, V-03,” his words make you scream but no sound comes out.

You are helplessly trapped inside of your own body. You will be forced to watch and bear witness to the acts he will make you commit, the sins of his actions being thrust onto your hands. The blood of his crimes staining your skin, leaving a mark as you cry on the inside of your mind, begging for release from this madness.

You know that your Toring Chip is different than Caleb’s. He explained it to you the night you two first came together during the summit. The two of you laid together in bed, his arm wrapped around you while you listened to his steady heartbeat. His chest was bare — a piece of significant jewelry absent from his neck — and he slowly explained to you the effects of his Toring Chip. He has one of the earliest version, which is inevitably bound to have flaws in its design. While the Professor can see his emotions through his bodily reactions, he could only persuade his emotions to complete missions. To suggest and give Caleb the push he needed to say yes to dire circumstances and jobs.

The Professor had no control over Caleb’s body. He can wipe away the cheeriness in Caleb’s eyes and try to erase the playful and fiery spirit that sits inside his chest, but he will never have full control over the Colonel. All he can do is give Caleb the push, to bend his emotions and cause his brain to rewire itself to do as he says.

You…you are a puppet while Caleb maintains some of his bodily autonomy.

The Professor stands close to you. A little too close. Despite not having control of your body, you still feel your body’s instinct to pull away, the nausea that festers inside of your stomach. He leans in, his oddly cold shoulder pressing into yours, the man fully turning to face you. He leans down and his nose grazes against your cheek.

You can’t close your hides. You have to watch from your peripheral vision as he closes the distance.

His breath his putrid. Teeth rotted, decaying inside his own mouth. He places a hand on your shoulder. Your body doesn’t react but you let out a blood curdling scream from inside your head.

“You are…magnificent, V-03,” he speaks, the words rolling off of his tongue like butter. It scares you. “You are my finest creation yet.”

He places the tips of his fingers on your collarbone and begins to slowly drag them across your shoulder and down your bicep, switching from the pads of his fingers to his nails, the somehow brittle lengths pushing into your skin. It teeters between the line of admiration and something more, something ravenous and lustful.

You know that Professor Lucius does not lust after you. He lusts after the power you hold inside of your body. He lusts after the influence that your presence will give him in the room full of high ranking military officers and officials, making him even more powerful and dominant than he could ever imagine.

After all, you are his most prized possession.

Not person.

Object.

A thing for him to play with. A doll for him to literally dress how he sees fit.

He’s done it before in the past, used the Toring Chip to have you come into his office, to put on dresses and clothes that he claimed was for his young daughter at home.

His office did not have any photos of his family. Not even a wife or portrait they took in the early years of their family life. Perhaps he did not want them to witness the ugliness he pours his life and heart into. Maybe he does not want to look upon their faces and come to realization that just like them — just like you — his experiments have souls and people who love them just as much as he loves his wife and kids.

“We need you to look the part for the Farspace Fleet,” the Professor continues to speak. He pulls his hand away from your arm and takes a step in front of you. He nods his head in the direction of the table where the Farspace Fleet uniform sits. “The General wants to see his shining translator transform into someone new…someone worthwhile and noteworthy. Someone…someone dangerous.”

Professor Lucius steps to the side and his nails drag against the metal table, quietly scraping before he flicks his fingers against the screen. He turns to look at you once again, the sickening smirk returning to his face.

Your body moves on its own, forced to look away as you hands reach up for the top button of your shirt. You listen to the Professor’s footsteps, the loud echoes coming to a close as he settles himself into one of the chairs. Your movements are robotic as you slip the shirt from your body, folding it, and place it onto the table.

Is it a blessing or a curse that you do not have to face him while you change. Many times before, especially after one of his experiments to see just how cruelly he can kill you and get away with it, he and other scientists take their time to examine your naked body, watching it heal, to see if there are any remaining scars to act as evidence of their crimes against you.

You push your pants off of your body. His footsteps move closer to you.

“Stop.”

You obey his command.

Professor Lucius’ fingertips press the bottom of your head, right where your hair ends and where the scar from the Toring Chip surgery remains. He drags his fingers down, tracing the fine, the line of your darkened and scarred skin from the very first surgery you underwent. It was way before your Evol blossomed and came into fruition. They inspected your spine, moving apart the nerves, rerouting them, obliterating your ability to walk before they fixed it.

“I’ll see if I can find a way to heal your skin,” the Professor whispers into your ear, sending chills across your body. He takes notice and chuckles, thinking that it is a positive reaction rather than one made out of pure repulsion and rejection. “Continue.”

You reach for the Farspace Fleet uniform. Your heart twitches inside your chest, disregarding the Professor’s control over your body as you feel the weight of the uniform in your hands. Professor Lucius continues to touch your body. He inspects every inch of your exposed skin, murmuring and humming to himself.

It is so utterly dehumanizing.

You slip the white pants onto your body and fasten the belt, the black holster strapped to your thigh. Next, you put on the black dress shirt, fastening the buttons with precision and ease before strapping the tie around your neck.

While your body moves, you think about the slow mornings you spent with Caleb just as the sun began to rise from above the horizon. He has been up for far longer than you. He worked out and showered, placing his clothes onto the bench at the foot of the bed.

You slowly woke up from the depths of sleep, a yawn escaping from your lips. Caleb always smiled at you. He slowly walked to your side of the bed and would sit on the edge, the mattress dipping down which made you roll towards him. He caught you in his arms and lifted you up, melting into his chest as he placed a kiss to the top of your head before he met your lips with his.

Caleb was in charge of making breakfast while you showered and got ready. He stayed in his sweatpants, shirtless just as you liked him to be, and brought the plates inside just as you finished putting your last shoe on.

The two of you would eat and talk about that day’s plans. He would ask if you were up for a date out or if you wanted to stay inside. You always joked that you needed to ask your boyfriend and see if it was okay with him. The two of you would share a laugh, the sounds of his chuckles forever echoing inside what is left of your crumbling sanity.

You would clean up the plates and quickly wash them, setting them to the side of the sink before moving back to the bedroom where Caleb stands, assembling his Colonel persona piece by piece. You watched from the doorway, waiting for the right moment to step in and assume your daily task of helping him with his shirt buttons.

It was always silent between you two. Silent, but comfortable. Safe. A time where the two of you can be you and Caleb, a moment of domesticity in your chaotic and demanding lives. As soon as you fastened the last button, he would sheepishly ask you for help with his tie, always ending his question with a kiss to butter you up.

The truth is that Caleb knows how to tie his tie. You knew it, he knew it, but it never failed to make you smile and make an off-handed comment about him being so co-dependent on you, asking him what he’s going to do when you aren’t there to help put him together.

Oh, the irony.

You slip the heeled knee high boots over your feet and pants, your body lengthening by a handful of centimeters. Of course the men of Ever and the Farspace Fleet chose for you, a woman, to wear heeled boots. No matter what aspect of life you are in — a cold war or in an office — their idea of a strong woman must always come with their idea of femininity, which is almost always laced in with impracticality.

The Farspace Fleet’s jacket is heavier than you anticipated. You have felt the weight of Caleb’s in the past, having wearing it around his apartment as he cooked dinner, a smile on your face as you tipped his own Colonel’s hat to him.

This…this feels different.

This is the weight of your own world on your shoulders of the life you have left behind. The constant reminders of him running through your mind no matter where you look or try to hide from. He always finds you.

You slip your arms through the sleeves and feel as Professor Lucius flattens out the wrinkles of the jacket from behind, smoothing out the shoulders and getting rid of any imperfections he may find. The leather gloves slip on like butter and you reach up to fix your tie, your movement causing it to tighten it tighter than you anticipated. A gasp slips through your slips and your hands fall to your side.

The Professor moves around you. You take a step back, your body receiving subliminal and silent orders from the man himself. His eyes never meet yours as his hands take liberties with you. He touches your stomach and his hands move up to your neck, grabbing your chin, and tilting it left and right so he can see is there is anything else he needs to change about you. Your hair is neatly put into a bun at the base of your neck, one to hide the nasty scar from the Toring Chip insertion. He brushes your hair out of the way and takes a step backwards, his gaze darkening the more and more he looks at you.

“Perfect,” he whispers, “you are…perfect.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. The droplet has broken through the Toring Chip’s hold on your body’s agency, slipping through the cracks. The Professor is quick to catch it, though, since your hands are glued to your sides, unable to move as your soul and consciousness sob inside your fragile mind.

“Ah,” he breathes out, disappointment laced within his tone. Your body shudders as you begin to gain control of your body back from him.

Your once ice cold limbs begin to warm, thawing out as you wiggle your fingers. The Professor reaches up and wipes you tear away, observing the teardrop on the pad of his thumb. He turns back to you and lets out a huff of air, amused by your emotions.

“I see that you’re not as easily controlled. We’ll fix that,” the Professor whispers, leaning in. His rotten breath surrounds your mouth and nose, giving you nowhere to escape. He reaches for the tablet. You swallow the lump in your throat. He presses a button and everything fades to black.

Caleb clears his throat as soon as he exits the elevator while on route to the General’s office. It sits on the very top floor of the Fleet’s headquarters, just below the helipads on the roof of the building. Despite being so close to the top and where many of the Farspace Fleet’s aircrafts sit, the floor is surprisingly quiet. All that Caleb can hear is the click of his shiny leather boots against the freshly waxed floor as he travels down the hallway.

The top floor consists of the highest vetted employees. The General’s secretary is a Captain in his own right, earning his rank from within the Farspace Fleet before landing the job of a lifetime. Well, that’s what some people like to think.

Caleb has never found fulfillment in his duty as the Farspace Fleet Colonel. Sure, he has been able to find someone to fight for, someone to give him purpose as to why he is still with the Farspace Fleet, but now that you’re gone, the job has become, well, monotonous.

Maybe it is because he’s lost his purpose with you out of his life.

The Colonel raises his fist up to the door, waiting for a beat, before knocking. It is three loud knocks in a row, quick and decisive, that of a Farspace Fleet officer.

“Enter,” the General’s gravelly voice calls out. Caleb does as he is told, entering inside the office. The General spots him and smiles, leaning back into his hair. “Ah, Colonel Xia, what a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” Caleb responds, his voice having a hint of charm to it while his face remains neutral.

He closes the door behind him and the tail of his coat fights with his legs as he enters the heart of the room. He stands in the center and stands in attention, his hands stiff at his sides. The General pushes away from his desk and wave his hand at Caleb. The man immediately relaxes, folding his leather clad hands behind his back.

“Sir, the plane is ready for departure,” Caleb informs the General.

The old man, whose hair has become significantly more white than gray in the passing months, rounds his desk. He used to be the same height as Caleb in the prime of his life. With his old age, though, he has lost a few centimeters and now the top of his head sits just below Caleb’s eye level.

“Ready so soon?” The General asks. Caleb simply nods in return. The older man grunts to himself, nodding his head as his gaze moves away from Caleb’s.

Caleb watches him with a close eye. His Colonel’s hat covers his eyes just barely enough for the cameras not to see his gaze turn deadly when the General looks away. His eyes darken from his glare.

He remembers the day you left. He remembers exactly how the General smiled at you, how he lured you in with false pretenses of allowing you to leave before ordering his men — the Professor’s men — to capture you. Was it his idea to drug you? Or was he the sick fuck who offered your body up as a sacrifice for Professor Lucius to pick apart?

When the General turns back to him, the light comes back to Caleb’s eyes. The corners of his lips tug up, a mirage to make the General think that he actually takes pleasure in being his personal chauffeur to the meeting with Ever. The older man smiles back, a small chuckle vibrating his throat, as he passes by the young man, patting him on the shoulder.

“Come on, kid, let’s be the first ones there.”

The walk to the elevator is one taken in silence, at least it was on Caleb’s part. He stayed behind the Genral, allowing him to be the one to guide him up the stairs and to the dark asphalt of the roof where one of the Fleet’s aircrafts sit. As they walk, people stop what it is that they are doing and speak with the General. Their gazes flicker to Caleb, who narrows his eyes in return, and they look away before breaking free from the duo’s flight path.

They walk across the roof’s tarmac, the loud roar of nearby jet engines filling their ears. As soon as they approach their designated craft, a whole set of the deck crew scatter from the plane. Caleb inputs his code and the back door opens, slowly lowering itself towards the ground. They enter inside and Caleb assumes the pilot’s seat, taking his hat off and hanging it on a nearby hook.

The front glass is tinted, blocking out as much of the sun as possible. Caleb still reaches for his jacket pocket, plucking a pair of black aviators, setting them on the bridge of his nose.

“I saw that you were one of the best pilots that the DAA has ever had,” the General boasts from behind. He pats Caleb shoulder once again and leans down, laughing, “if we don’t make it there in under an hour, then I’ll have to give a stern talking to someone at the DAA about their qualifications of what a good pilot is.”

Caleb lets out a fake chuckle, one that sounds just real enough to anyone who is listening. The General moves to one of the back seats as Caleb’s Adjutant, Liam, enters the aircraft. He sits across from the General just as Caleb closes the back door, engines roaring to life.

Caleb places a headset over his ears. The aircraft is a passenger jet, made for transportation of government and city officials rather than one for Deepspace Tunnel missions or dog fights with other countries. It is still heavily armed and dangerous to those who think they can oppose it but lacks its agility and swift maneuvering abilities.

With Caleb behind the throttle, though, who knows what can happen.

Caleb flicks many of the switches and the aircraft’s engine roars to life, the body of the plane humming and vibrating. The engines begin to warm up as the passengers buckle in. Liam and Caleb share a quick glance with one another, nodding in sync, before turning back to their individual spaces. The General puts on his headset and begins to spew one of his many stories from his own pilot days, laughing their ears off as the aircraft begins to move.

Caleb’s pilot instincts take over. He maneuvers the aircraft out of its spot, docking it at the end of the tarmac. The runway is clear with the deck crew giving the thumbs up. Once Caleb receives the go ahead from the tower, the aircraft lurches forward, the throttle being pushed to the max.

In a matter of seconds, the aircraft takes flight, slicing through the air at top notch speeds. The General’s laugh echoes throughout the headsets but Caleb tunes it out, his sole focus on getting close to you as fast as possible.

Caleb lands the plane after forty five minutes. The once blue skies and endless green fields below have turned into dusk and a desert below. The plane, all thanks to Caleb's piloting, caught a tailwind and accelerated the flight. They even broke the sound barrier, the sly becoming silky smooth with nothing holding them back. The plane passed over hundreds of miles of land, crossing through different territories and countries.

They landed in Athas, a desert city far away from Skyhaven and Linkon, outside of the boundaries of any country’s jurisdiction. A place where everyone can be equals with no laws to abide by or rules to follow.

The aircraft screeches against the tarmac, Ever’s deck crew guiding Caleb and his plane on where to go after he lands. He follows their directions, sunglasses now off of his face, as he parks the plane close to a base built out of cement, a recent construction all thanks to Ever and the Farspace Fleet. Caleb was able to catch a glimpse of the contract while poking his head around during his search for you. He cannot believe that it is what led him here.

He shuts the engines off, listening to them cool down and feeling the vibrations cease to exist. He stands from the pilot’s seat, slightly stretching out his body, as he glances at the General. He makes his way down the length of the airplane, placing his Colonel’s hat back on the top of his head, covering his dark locks from the world.

“Colonel,” the General laughs with his entire belly, slapping him on the back just as he approaches, “that was one hell of a flight!”

Caleb feigns a smile, sheepishly chuckling. The General’s compliments mean absolutely nothing to him. They are meaningless, fake niceties that he must push through in order to get to you.

The back door drops open and the hot desert air wafts into the aircraft. Liam takes Caleb’s side, handing him a small note written on paper. The Adjutant follows after the General, leaving Caleb behind. He hesitates to walk, taking a quick glance at the note in his hand.

She’s the demonstration.

Caleb’s back stiffens. He crumbles the note between his fingers and slips into one of the crevices of his uniform, tucking it away where the world cannot see the truth that Liam has unveiled for him.

He knew that you were going to be at the center of it all. He held out for a sliver of hope, though, that you would be in the background, hidden from the eyes of bloodthirsty killers from other countries. He can’t even fathom just how exposed you will be, his mind wandering to all of the possibilities of what the Professor will have you do for a demonstration.

“Colonel!” The General yells over the sound of landing planes and the restless wind that creates havoc in the sky. His head turns to look at the man, eyes narrowing from the darkness of the craft. “This way.”

Colonel Xia nods, letting out a huff of air, and forces his legs to move, the aching sensation as the realization that you will be in the same room as him finally hitting. He passes by Liam and gives him a nod, the Adjutant remaining in the aircraft.

Caleb thought that he would feel lighter than air when he first sees you again. He dreamt of you floating down from the heavens, descending into his arms like one would see in in a vision from an otherworldly being. He knows that the idea of you literally floating down is ridiculous, but he wishes that it were that easy to get you back into his arms.

The cement building is taller than he expected. The closer the duo walks towards it, the higher and higher it pierces into the sky. It blocks out the setting sun and casts long and dramatic shadows across the freshly made tarmac. He follows behind the General, the Farspace Fleet duo the first of a handful of groups to approach the building. The General swings open the door, his course strong and unmoving. The other groups hang behind, speaking amongst each other as Caleb slips inside the building.

The lights are unusually bright. There is no decoration nor are there any other type of items to make the place feel like it has been worked in. Caleb and the General walk down winding hallways, descending deeper and deeper beneath the depths of the sand, the temperature dropping dramatically with every step down the stairs. The echoes of footsteps fills the cement stairwell, the exasperated huffs of air from the General being thrown into the mix.

It goes on like this for a couple of minutes until the stairwell reaches its end. Caleb pushes through the metal doors, holding it open for his superior officer, before moving inside himself.

Inside is a large hanger, larger than one would ever expect to be beneath the sands of the desert. It is a grotesque showcase of power, extravagant yet there is a sense of maliciousness in its constriction. A warning to those that would dare to oppose Ever with their advances of weaponry, transportation, and private militia.

The balcony overlooks the hangar. There are two lines on the side of the walls, large aircrafts meant for large transportation of goods — or soldiers — mixed in with fighter jets and even remote operated stealth jets made for reconnaissance and spying. Caleb saw a few of them in action while at the DAA, having shadowed a few of the pilots who flew them from hundred of miles away inside the Deepspace Tunnel.

In the middle of the hangar sits a large table. A small group of people sit below with a two soldiers standing off to the side. One of the men holds a cane, the Professor, as he speaks with people in white lab coats. Caleb is too far away to see what the soldiers look like, his eyes floating to the shorter one standing on the right in a black and white uniform, one that the Farspace Fleet dons, and an unsettling feeling ferments in his stomach, making him queasy, his feet dragging against the ground.

The General leads them down cement steps. They inch closer and closer to the table, finally gaining the Professor’s attention as he dismisses the scientists. They scurry away and flock the soldiers.

One of them looks remarkably similiar to you.

Caleb’s heart stops beating. He continues to walk but his purple eyes never leave your face. You stare off into the distance with your hands folded behind your back. You wear the Farspace Fleet uniform and the brim of the hat, donned with the Fleet’s insignia, shadows your eyes, concealing your full expression from his gaze. He clears his throat and looks away, following the General who approaches the Professor with a joyful smile.

“Lucius!” he exclaims, his hand slapping into the elder man’s, excitedly shaking his hand. “The day has finally come!”

“It has!” Professor Lucius smiles. Caleb holds back a wince at the sight of his yellowed teeth. “I am so honored to have you here, General.”

“The honor is all mine,” he responds. He turns to Caleb and waves him forward. Caleb obeys. “I brought Colonel Xia just like you requested.”

Caleb’s eyes meet the Professor’s. The old man places the entirety of his weight into his metal cane, leaning against it for support as his one excited grin turns sadistic in the blink of an eye. Caleb nods his head at the man.

“Colonel Xia…” the Professor’s voice drops an octave. Caleb’s eyes move away for a brief second, unconsciously moving to your face. The Professor snaps, catching his attention. “Eyes here, boy.”

Caleb’s back straightens. His fists ball at his side, eyes slowly darkening, narrowing.

“Good solider,” Professor Lucius comments and turns to the General, “always obeying orders.”

“The best of the best,” the General adds.

“I hope you will accept my invitation to be a part of the demonstration tonight…X-02,” Lucius smirks. Caleb’s body runs cold. He stiffly nods, clenching his jaw. Professor Lucius nods back. He turns to the General and the same aloofness he had before returns. “Please, take a seat. Have the Colonel stand behind you. We only have so many seats. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Without another word, the Professor turns around and wobbles away. Caleb stays where he is, his superior officer pushing past him with a soft chuckle. His jaw is set, stuck in its tense positioning, when he turns his head towards you.

You’re staring at him. Your eyes meet his purple gaze. Your face does not change. You do not flinch, remaining as still as a stone statue. Caleb moves backwards but his eyes remain trained on you. Your eyes follow him, refusing to back down, as he tales his place behind the General. The rest of the room settles, the other Generals and Colonels and Captains taking their seats at the table.

Caleb is the only one left standing. It is all a part of the Professor’s design.

“Welcome,” Professor Lucius begins, greeting the table. “I hope your journey was well and had no complications. I humbly thank you all for joining us, especially the Farspace Fleet for proving the materials necessary to set up a meeting place for us to gather.”

Nobody claps. Nobody cheers or greets the man back. They simply stare at the Professor, tilting their heads.

Caleb’s eyes flicker around the room. Many of the men inside have guns holstered to their hips and thighs. He can assume that the older man, such as the General, have guns inside their jackets and, well, the Professor has his super soldiers prepared and ready to protect him…including you.

“I know that my messages about what is to be unveiled tonight have been vague…they have been less than desirable, am I right?” There are a few nods across the table’s inhabitants. “Tonight, I have the honor to show to you the next phase of soldiers.”

The Professor holds his hand up and snaps his fingers. The sound echoes across the hangar. It captures the table’s attention, their eyes moving towards you and the soldier who stands beside you. Caleb recognizes the man beside you. He was in Caleb’s Farspace Fleet’s wing for awhile before he was honorably discharged, the reason unknown. He looks at him with a close eye, slowly breathing in, his chest puffing out, before exhaling.

You remain where you are, frozen in space yet again. Caleb’s heart aches for you. He has to hold back the urge to storm across the distance and pull you into his arms, to cry into your hair, and apologize for the sins that he has committed. He desperately wants to feel your skin against his. To feel the spark of your short-lived love for one another, to give him a reason worth fighting for.

“This is Staff Sergeant Hardy. He was one of the few lucky soldiers who received Toring Chip Version 2.0,” the Professor speaks. He holds his hand out to Caleb, the room’s attention turning to him. “This is Colonel Xia. He currently has Toring Chip Version 1.8 inside of him.”

You suddenly step forward. The sound of your step enamors the room, the deadly look on your face silencing the murmurs that sounded from around the table.

“And this…this is V-03. Her name isn’t important. She currently has the latest Toring Chip inside of her neck. Version 3.9 to be exact. She is the most advanced out of all of the soldiers here and she is here to redefine the way we look at and compete in war.”

Chills run down Caleb’s spine. His ears begin to ring as the Professor continues to speak. His mouth goes dry and he is unable to look away from the darkness that is inside of your eyes, the way you scan the room as if you are searching for your next victim.

From behind, the scientists roll up a large white board, one that towers over the people inside the room. A man towards the back tosses a newer and smaller version of OTTO into the air. Its wings buzz and it floats up, light flooding from its lens, projecting images onto the white board with vibrant colors.

“The Toring Chip initiative was a way for Ever to help governments and private militias to control their soldiers as well as yield their obedience. Ever since its origins, it has blossomed into something powerful, a tool that only men like us — men in power — are able to have control over,” the Professor addresses the room.

Their attention remains on him, their energy beginning to burst at the seams, wondering what he has in store.

“The first wave of Toring Chips proved that we are able to monitor a soldier’s emotions through their cognitive and cardiovascular charts. By using this information, it allowed its users to be swayed to complete missions and goals, making them think that what they are doing is for the good of mankind and not self serving purposes. It also allowed us to their memories, giving us leverage over their life by hanging their memories over their heads…a push in the right direction to do what is best for their minds and lives.”

Caleb swallows the lump that forms in his throat. He watches the Professor with a close eye, barely even paying attention to the images and words on the board. He notices an image of himself but does not pay attention, focusing on your face instead.

His eyes dip below the surface of your bust and he notices the gun that is strapped to your leg. It is sleek yet chunky, the barrel long and unforgiving.

“With the second version of the Toring Chip, we were able to hone in the skills from the previous version, allowing us to refine where we messed up and reign in our soldiers, keeping them on a much shorter leash so they have much more to lose…”

Caleb drowns out the Professor’s voice. He watches as your face twitches, eyes blinking rapidly, taking away the gloss that reflected the lights coming out of OTTO.

“With the third version…we were able to increase our reach over the soldier’s agency,” Lucius speaks, his voice not faltering, not one bit, as he holds it hand out. You step to his side and place a glass tablet into his hand. He holds it up into the air as you resume your spot on the other side of the board. “Unlike the others, it must be surgically inserted into the neck, unable to be dissolved, so they are forced to live with it for the rest of their lives. If you wish to remove it, well, it will have to be cut out from their bodies. Thank you, V-03. This is a data pad that holds all of her information. From it, I can control almost all of her bodily functions. Her consciousness is simply sedated, asleep while we take the wheel. I can tell her to stop breathing and she will obey. I can tell her when and what to eat, what to drink…she does it without question.”

A few of the men and officers at the table lean forward. Men from countries that are constantly at war with each other, ready to soak the ground beneath their feet with the blood of their enemies.

“Using this tablet allows me full access to her cognitive functions. I am able to fully control her…she is my puppet to use how I see fit,” Professor Lucius’ eyes move to Caleb. He stands still, unmoving as he listens to the way that the Professor has removed all of your autonomy with a smug smirk. “Whoever holds the leash is in control. They hold all of the power. They hold a soldier’s so called ‘free will’ in their hands.”

“Wait,” the General speaks up, “you are able to control her?”

“That is correct, yes,” Professor Lucius confirms. “She is fully mine to use. With the new Toring Chip, we have taken out all possibilities of rebellion or disobedience. She will complete whatever task is set in front of her.”

“Tasks such as…?” a man from the far end of the table asks.

“Who would want to play god?” a man murmurs from under his breath. “It is inhumane.”

“Is there a limit?” another one chimes in.

The Professor chuckles, shaking his head. The sound echoes inside of Caleb’s ears, the color draining from his face as the old man flicks his fingers across the screen.

In an instant, your body moves, hand reaching for the gun that is secure on your thigh. You pull it from its place and lift it into the air, aiming at Staff Sergeant Hardy. You pull the trigger, his neck exploding as blood bursts across the immediate area, splattering along the white board that sits behind you and the Professor. The Professor smirks, turning back to the men who dared to question him while you holstered your gun.

“Does that answer your question?”

The men remain silent.

“What makes V-03 special, though, is not the Toring Chip that is inside of her neck. No, no,” the Professor’s eyes darken. His chuckle is cold, heartless. He moves to the next image of his presentation.

A picture of your body is displayed on the screen. It is dated to a couple of months ago, the first day you were experimented on. You stand in the middle of the room with soldiers surrounding you, their frames massive and bulky compared to your small and fragile state — which angers Caleb beyond belief but he refuses to let it show — and the video begins.

The men surround you. They begin to beat you senseless, your cries filling and echoing across the grand aircraft hangar. Caleb flinches ever so slightly. Your head snaps to him, your glare burning into the side of his face.

Professor Lucius clicks to the next video. In this one, you’re being cut open while awake, no sedation or morphine to be used to ease the pain. You scream out for help, for them to show you mercy.

In the next slide sits a set of photos. You are dead on a lab table, face bruised and bloodied, disfigured beyond belief. There’s a lump on your neck from where it broke, your death slow and painful as you slowly suffocated to death.

“From a young age, I have been interested in the evolution of the human race. When Evolvers came about, entering our society with Evols and powers that surpass a normal person’s capability, I couldn’t help but wonder what the human genome can hold. What made Evolvers so special whereas men like me and you, you who sit around the table, are stuck with no ability to show or protect ourselves?” Professor Lucius pauses, the question seeping into the minds of the men around the room. “The key is in our DNA.”

He moves to the next slide that showcases the DNA sequences that belong to you. On one side is when you were normal. On the other sits your new DNA sequence, one with your Evol present.

“There was no way for me arrange V-03’s DNA, that is simply a fact. So I had to look back in our world’s history and do some research, needing to find the answer to this question…that’s when it hit me,” the elderly man leans to look behind him, staring at the still warm corpse on the ground. He turns back to the room, offering them a simple shrug and smile, “Survival.”

“Survival?” The General asks, leaning forward. The Professor nods. “Lucius, what did you do?”

“I forced the Evol out of her. I forced her to evolve into the superhuman she was meant to be,” he lets out a breathy laugh, a maniacal one that unsettles the entirety of the room. “If we stress out the human body enough, it will be forced with a choice: death or survival. She chose to survive and the DNA sequence she needed to evolve was forced out of her. It was once asleep inside her body — herblood — but it is now awakened and her Evol is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen!”

“Well…what is it?” the General asks, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“X-02, come forward,” the Professor waves Caleb over.

The room turns to look at Caleb. He hesitates to move, heart pounding inside his ears and chest. After a few seconds, he moves, walking around the long metal table as every single person in the room watches. The click of his boots is faint, the tip of his shoes dragging across the cement floor. You move and meet him in the middle, standing on the right side of the Professor while Caleb stands on the left, towering over you.

You look up at him, all of the color that was once in your eyes a dull gray, a cloud of fog overtaking it. It makes Caleb’s skin crawl at the sight. His eyes quickly examine your face, trying to see if you have been hurt or is there is a way for him to break you out of the haze.

His eyes flit to the tablet in the Professor’s hands. With that…he will get you back. It is the only way for you to escape and break free from his hellscape.

“V-03, if you would be so kind,” the Professor gestures his hand between you and Caleb.

Your movement is smooth yet there is a lack of humanity in it. You have fully been transformed into a robot, a servant for the Professor to use as he pleases. Your hand moves to the gun in your holster. You slip it out, a few specks of Staff Sergeant Hardy’s blood prominent along the silver metal. The gun spins in your hand, the barrel slipping into your hand, holding the gun out to Caleb.

He heart goes still. White noise fills his ears as he stares down at the gun. Caleb’s eyes move up your body. He stares at the Farspace Fleet uniform that you wear, a costume that you were undoubtedly forced into. It looks so foreign on you, the colors not fitting nor the shape of the jacket complimenting your body.

This…this is not you.

Has Caleb truly lost the love of his life? Has your soul been forced out of your body? Have you shed your skin and moved onto the next life?

“X-02,” the Professor says in a low and dangerous voice, “shoot her in the head.”

The air leaves Caleb’s lungs. His purple eyes slowly track up your body, observing the skin of your neck, watching as your chest slowly rises and falls, your breathing steady. When his eyes move back to your face, that is when he notices the sadistic smile on your face, your greyed out eyes making you look like someone he cannot even recognize anymore.

Caleb doesn’t ready for the gun.

The Professor huffs and swipes the weapon from your hands, forcing into Caleb’s. He moves to the side and lifts up Caleb’s arm. The Colonel’s soul has left his body, completely dissociating, drowning out the world that surrounds him.

Caleb did this to you. This is all of his fault.

The muzzle rests in the center of your forehead. Professor Lucius steps away. Both hands rest on his cane now, his eyes dark and lowered. His body vibrates from excitement. The room is silent.

“Do it,” Professor Lucius spits, “pull the trigger.”

Caleb’s finger rests on the trigger of your gun. The smile remains on your face. He can feel his body heat up, pulsating across his skin as his anxiety flares up, his heartbeat racing inside of his chest. Caleb’s breathing grows shallow, unable to keep up with just how fast his heart speeds inside his body. His ears ring, white noise the only thing he can hear besides the Professor’s voice.

Caleb stares into your eyes. He searches for any kind of humanity that you have left, wishing that you would give him a sign, anything to help him turn the gun towards Professor Lucius and blow his brains out instead. That would result in his death but it would be worth it if it meant giving you back your agency and autonomy.

“X-02! Pull the trigger!”

Caleb whispers your name, tears forming in his eyes.

To him, you are not V-03. You are your own person, someone worthy of love and admiration and not endless torture and despair.

He whispers your name, the sound ringing inside your ears. You try to fight against the Toring Chip, your screams only sounding off inside the confines of your own consciousness and mind. You beg and sob, wishing for him to break you free from this place while your world slowly crumbles from all around you.

“X-02! I order you to pull the trigger! Kill her!”

Caleb whispers your name.

You blink in response.

“X-02!”

Caleb becomes overwhelmed. He hears your joyous laughter in his head, the scent of your spiced apple perfume filling his nose. Memories of your lazy mornings together attack him. His eyes move down to your tie. He wonders if you needed help with it like he always does. Caleb shudders as the men in the room scream and shout at him, defying their orders.

You take a step forward, pushing your head into the muzzle, forcing him backwards. Caleb flinches.

BANG!

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

i <3 commenters

#caleb x reader #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb x you #caleb love and deepspace #caleb lads #xia yizhou #lads caleb #caleb angst #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #love and deepspace angst #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace #lads caleb angst #rcvcgers writings #rotten apples ❦︎

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viceroywrites · 10 months ago

Text

deja vu - part 2

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

choose your own ending / contains fluff and angst (w/ happy ending)

(if you would like a link to the playlist i created for this series, lmk!)

part one | part three

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii/@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby / @gxstiess / @skrunkle11 / @valinbean / @funkyenby / @therealgoofygoober69 / @theblueraven / @adrian920155 / @im-kinda-bored / @miarabanana / @uwauiss / @leo4242564 / @doggosnoodles12 / @soupieoopieisloopie / @zhungxi / @bandaids-n-porcelain / @marvelous-maniac / @opossumclown

It was a tense interaction following your question.

Ford’s eyebrows raised in alarm and he carefully approached you, “Of course, we’ve met before, it’s me, Stanford.”

You pause, glancing between Stanley and his twin before replying hesitantly, “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I just learned your name a few seconds ago from your brother.”

Ford’s lips narrow into a thin line, vexation written all over his face, “I know we parted ways on less than ideal terms, Y/N, but there’s no reason to pretend like you don’t recognize me.”

Your eyebrow raised at Ford’s firm stance, crossing your arms, “I’m sorry to say but I truly don’t. Maybe you have me mistaken for someone else perhaps?” You can’t help but get defensive, feeling accused that you were blowing off this complete stranger.

“Oh, I’m not mistaken. I know you very well, Y/N. I know that you got your Masters in Geology at Backupsmore. I know that ammolite is your favorite gemstone. I know that you learned hamboning from Fiddleford just to get on my nerves.” Ford counters you with facts, his own stubbornness coming through as you stare each other down.

Your eyes widen at the amount of detail Ford seems to know about you, “How do you know all these things about me? How do you know Fiddleford? Did you help him with his research out here?”

Ford sighs heavily, “I know I messed up back then and I know you must hate me but can you please drop this childish charade?” His low voice raises slightly in volume as his frustration mounts as he finally snaps at you.

“Ford!” Stan cuts in between the two of you, catching both of you off guard, “Lay off her… I genuinely think she doesn’t… remember.” He sighs, putting the pieces together surprisingly quickly compared to his brother. He grabs his twin by the arm, pulling him off to the side, “Give us a second, we’ll be right back.” Stan says to you, giving you an apologetic stare.

You nod slowly as you decide to take a seat on the steps, watching as the sun slowly begins to set in the horizon. This new information perplexes you as you try to wrack your brain if Fiddleford had ever mentioned working with someone during his time in Gravity Falls.

Meanwhile, the Pines twins walk off into the distance, just out of ear shot. “So who is she?” Stan questions, needing answers from his brother before he can present his finding. Ford bristles at the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looks off into the distance before answering, “Remember when we were out at sea commiserating on past romances… and I told you how I had met someone during my time in college but she left after I had gotten too deep into my involvement with Bill.”

“Yeah, vaguely, I thought you were just making that up to try and relate to my stories about my ex-wives. You never were smooth with the ladies.” Stan admits with a shrug to which Ford rolls his eyes at. “Well, that’s her. The age old cliche of the one that got away.” Ford summarizes, “But she was never this petty before. I know I hurt her immensely but…”

“She’s not being petty, poindexter. Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Stan sighs, running a hand over his face in exasperation. Ford stares back blankly at him, unsure how to respond. “God, you’re supposed to be the smart one here. Remember your old friend McGucket’s invention? You know the one that can literally erase memories? The one that erased all my memories?” Stan spells it out for his brother.

It all clicks in Ford’s head, “You don’t think… Fiddleford wiped her memory, do you?”

“Ding, ding, we got a winner!” Stan says sardonically, “Took ya long enough.”

“Why would he do that? I need to get to the bottom of this, Stanley…” Ford looks over his brother’s shoulder, staring at you. Despite the time that has passed, you look just as vibrant as he remembered you, your features highlighted in the orange glow of the sunset.

Stan notices the longing look on his brother’s face and places a hand on his shoulder, “You know she’s supposed to head out tomorrow morning? Got a whole road trip planned ahead.”

“Well, let’s see if she’d at least be willing to stick around to talk to Fiddleford.” Ford says with steely determination as he begins to walk back towards you, Stan following at his heels.

You look up as the pair walk up to you, able to see them side by side. There were distinct differences in terms of style but they were nearly identical, only just now picking up the cleft in Stanford’s chin and their different glasses.

Ford mulls over his choice of words. Despite being the more logical twin, Ford had to admit he was perhaps just as stubborn as his brother. “My apologies for my directness. I know you may not remember me, but please trust me when I say that we have an extensive history together. What if we were to visit Fiddleford tomorrow to perhaps quell your doubts and clarify some things?” He offers, hoping in the back of his mind that you’ll say yes.

You pause at the offer, thinking it through. You had the urge to decline, still on the defense. After all, this man pretty much accused you of acting like a child when you didn’t recognize him.

However, you did wish to see Fiddleford again, so curious about what happened to him after all these years.

“Alright, I’ll stay another day in Gravity Falls to see Fiddleford. But I want to know a little bit more about you.” Your eyes narrow in on Ford. Stan clears his throat, very aware of the tension between the two of you. “Well, I’m gonna go take care of… the broken thing inside...” He grumbles out the last part, making an awkward escape as he walks past you up the steps before pausing at the door to address you, “Come back inside whenever you and Sixer are done talking, I’ll clear out one of the rooms so you can stay for the night.”

Before you can protest, Stan closes the screen door behind him, giving you and Ford some privacy.

“So you had some questions for me?” Ford sighs, deciding to take a seat next to you. It felt so strange to be so close to you physically after all this time yet so distant due to your loss of memories, wishing that he could pull you into a tight embrace and apologize for everything that happened in the past.

“Well, I’m assuming if you know Fiddleford and somehow know that I got my Masters in Geology that you went to Backupsmore as well.” You start there, knowing the common thread that connects the two of you is the university you all attended, “That’s correct, not my first choice obviously.” Ford replies with a nod.

“Is it anyone’s first choice?” You comment which pulls a chuckle from Ford who shakes his head. “Very true, I know it wasn’t either of ours. Fiddleford was just elated to be the first in his family to even go.”

“So what did you major in?” You ask with a tilt of your head, “And how did you meet Fiddleford?”

“What didn’t I major in is the better question. I technically have 12 PhDs but my main focuses were Physics and Molecular Biology.” Ford admitted with a sense of pride, your jaw almost dropping at this information. ”As for how I met Fiddleford, I had proposed a theory in class one time that immediately got shot down by my professor. But Fiddleford shared my passion for pushing boundaries of existing theories and knowledge and we spent the whole night trying to prove it had validity.” Ford said, smiling at that particular memory.

You note the admiration in Ford’s voice as he speaks of Fiddleford, knowing that their relationship must be close. “I’m so confused… how do I not remember you if you and Fiddleford have such a close relationship?” You sigh, second guessing your own memories at this point. All this information felt like it made sense logically but it was difficult to suspend your disbelief. You hesitate to ask the question, “How... did we meet?”

Ford pauses, staring out into the forest, unable to meet your gaze as he recounts your first meeting. It seems so distant but it was a simple time before life got complicated.

Before he made your lives complicated.

Before he can reply, you cut him off, seeing the pained look in his eyes and realizing you may have gone too far. Whoever you were to him, something must have happened between the two of you that led to this reaction. “Actually, don’t answer that… It's getting late and I know we’ll have all of tomorrow to go over this with Fiddleford.”

“Right… we should probably call it for the evening.” Ford lets out a sigh of relief, getting up from his spot on the steps. He offers his hand, your eyes flicking towards it and noting the six fingers that were facing towards you. Realizing what you’re staring at, he is about to withdraw his hand, an embarrassed flush to his cheeks, but you take it, your warm fingers wrapping around his palm, as you stand up.

“Are you heading inside?” You ask, still holding into his hand. He realizes you have yet to let go and basks in the moment, fighting the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I should probably fix that invention that I was working on before…” Ford admits, almost waiting for you to scold him like you would in the past.

But you don’t.

Instead, you nod in understanding, squeezing Ford’s hand one final time before letting go. “Alright, I’m gonna head inside and see where I’m sleeping for the night…” You begin to walk towards the doorway before pausing at the door.

“Hey… I’m sorry I don’t remember you. I really hope tomorrow something sparks my memory.” You say, “Good night, Stanford.” You disappear behind the doorway, not waiting for him to respond.

Ford stares as he watches your frame retreat from behind the door, “Good night, Y/N… my dear.” The old pet name feeling heavy on his tongue but he can’t help but let it out.

As you stare up at the ceiling, you wonder how you even ended up in a storage room inside a tourist trap, laying on an air mattress.

Your trip - at least for the next day or so - is derailed. You’re thankful that Stan had offered to let you stay in the Mystery Shack as you were planning on sleeping in your car underneath the stars, drained from today’s turns of events and too tired to drive into town to try and find some sort of accommodation.

Yet your trip isn’t even the most pressing thing on your mind.

Who is Stanford Pines?

Your eyes shut tightly, trying to mull over the potential possibilities of how you might know this man who vehemently claims to know you. You knew you were getting older but there’s no way your memory was this shot, especially considering the fact that Ford had shared that he and Fiddleford were close friends and went to Backupsmore.

Your mind continued to draw blanks, unable to pinpoint a single memory that involved him.

Yet something about him was so familiar. Maybe that’s why a sense of deja vu had hit you the moment you met his brother and walked through the Mystery Shack.

Finally, fatigue hits you and you are able to fall asleep, slipping into a new dream.

You find yourself back at Backupsmore, walking through the quad and making your way to the library. The campus is decorated in hues of orange and yellow, autumn leaves scattered across the grass. Your boots crunching against the leaves as you weave through the bodies that mill around to and from class.

A gust of wind hits your face, wincing as the harshness against your skin as you had forgotten to bring a scarf on your trek. You finally make it to the library, opening the heavy doors to be greeted to the warmth and scent of old paperback books.

You walk past the front desk, making your way directly to the back of the library to the stacks. You pass the mostly empty study carrels one by one, looking for someone specific.

You get to the very end of what seemed like a never ending maze and see a table tucked into the corner, surrounded by bookshelves. A broad-shouldered figure, wearing a sweater vest, sits facing away from you, their head buried in the pile of books around them.

Your lips begin to move, calling out a name to address the person before you.

Stanford.

You wake up in a startle, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you feel a sudden pressure on your chest. Your eyes adjust to the sight in front of you, seeing a blur of pink, thinking you’re still dreaming. Rubbing your eyes vigorously, you realize there’s a pig sniffing your face in curiosity.

“God, what have I gotten myself into?” You groan out groggily, laying back in defeat as Waddles begins to lick your cheek.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Ford sits awkwardly in front of an audience of his great nephew and niece who are gaping at him in awe, just having explained the whole situation to them as they questioned who’s car was parked in the front of the Mystery Shack.

Stan sips from a mug that spells ‘World’s Greatest Grunkle’ that Mabel made him, a slightly amused grin spreading across his face. The look on their faces was priceless, he thinks to himself, wishing he could take a photo of it. Though, he was in their shoes just last night, still processing that his poindexter brother actually landed someone after all those years of fearing girls and that she somehow ended up stranded on the side of the road just as he was driving back home.

He was just grateful though that his brother wasn’t around for the parts where he was clearly smooth talking to you, unaware that you were his twin’s ex-lover.

“Oh my god, Grunkle Ford, this is amazing!” Mabel exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief, “See, I’ve been trying to figure who the ideal candidate would be to match you with but I couldn’t think of anyone in Gravity Falls. Maybe you two can rekindle your romance! We just need to do what we did with Grunkle Stan and show her things to remind her of your time together!”

“Or maybe her memories are stored where the Society of the Blind Eye held Old Man McGucket’s memories? There were a ton of Gravity Falls citizens’ names in there, I’m sure she’s somewhere in that pile.” Dipper offers as a suggestion, more invested in understanding how to restore memory loss from the Memory Gun than Mabel’s romantic plans for her uncle.

Though he had to admit that there was a sliver of him that was rooting for his Grunkle Ford in the romance department.

“Those are excellent suggestions, kids. I’m hoping perhaps talking to Fiddleford today will be one of the first steps into getting her memory back. There is one issue though with your suggestion, Mabel.” Ford admits, slightly crestfallen, “I don’t really have anything left from our time we were together. When she left, she took all remnants of her, photos of us together, letters she wrote to me. What I do have left I’m not sure if it will be effective in bringing those memories back.”

“What is it, Grunkle Ford? Maybe we can still use it, you never know if you don’t try!” Mabel said in reassurance.

Ford hesitated, feeling Dipper, Mabel and Stan’s eyes trained on him, waiting for a response.

Thankfully, your presence saved him in the nick of time, clearing your throat awkwardly. This catches everyone’s attention, Dipper and Mabel’s head whipping around. You stand in the entrance to the kitchen, still clad in your pajamas and your hair tousled from sleep, holding Waddles in your arms.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting, I just wanted to make sure this pig is supposed to be in here. He somehow got into my room.” You say, noticing how Waddles squirms now in your arms as he sees Mabel. You put him down and watch him scurry to Mabel who eagerly scoops him into her arms, nuzzling his pink cheek.

“You’re all good, we were just having breakfast. Need a cup of coffee?” Stan says nonchalantly, grabbing the coffee pot that was by his elbow. You nod eagerly, walking towards him and taking the mug that he poured you. “These are me and Ford’s grandniece and nephew, by the way, since you didn’t get to meet them last night. They’re staying here for the summer.” Stan gestures to the two twins that are staring at you like you had a second head.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Mabel! Sorry about Waddles, he kinda wanders around the house if I’m not awake yet.” The energetic brunette introduces herself. “No need to apologize, he was very sweet. If anything, he got me out of bed to get my day started. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You say with a relaxed smile.

“I’m Dipper, nice to meet you. Grunkle Stan was just telling us how you ended up staying here.�� The more relaxed male counterpart to Mabel chimed in, trying to move the conversation away from the topic discussed prior to you entering the room. Ford let out a slight sigh of relief, grateful that he was no longer in the hot seat.

“Well, your Grunkle Stan saved me from having to spend a pretty penny on a tow truck and a place to stay so I’m very grateful for that.” You chuckle, getting used to the term ‘Grunkle’.

“Sooo, Y/N, mind if I do a little Q&A with you? Since you’ll be staying here, I wanna get to know you better!” Mabel said eagerly, mentally mapping out her questions already. You blink owlishly before your eyes flick between Stan and Ford in amusement, “Fire away, Mabel. Though I hope your Grunkles didn’t put you up to this as a little payback for when I interrogated them yesterday?”

“She questioned you too?” Ford says in surprise to his brother who scratches chin mindlessly. “A little bit after finishing up the tour I gave her of the Mystery Shack. This one’s ruthless, no wonder she works for the government!” Stan taunts, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Wait, you work for the government?” Dipper asks, his eyes slightly narrowing in skepticism. You blink at his almost defensive reaction before elbowing Stan in the side who almost chokes on his coffee, “I literally asked you three questions. Don’t listen to him, I work for the National Parks, not the CIA.”

Dipper visibly relaxes and Mabel’s eyes linger on where you elbowed Grunkle Stan, picking up on how relaxed you seemed around him compared to Grunkle Ford. In fact, you had barely acknowledged Ford this morning, standing by the counter next to Stan. Mabel decides to take matters into her own hands, playing matchmaker as she gets up from her chair.

“Well that answers one of my questions. By the way, take a seat, Y/N! You’re our guest and I’m finished with my pancakes!” She walks over to you, pulling you by the hand as you plop onto the chair that is coincidentally right next to Ford. “Thanks Mabel..” You roll with the situation before looking over at Ford who stares at you with what seems to be pride.

“You really made it to the National Parks, huh? That was your dream since freshman year…” Ford says though immediately regrets it as you stare back at him in surprise. “Yeah.. I did. No one really knew about that.. Not even Fiddleford.” You reply, running your thumb over the print on the mug bashfully. “Well, um... I’m really happy for you. I know you must have worked hard to get there.” Ford offers, not sure how else to respond.

You smile warmly, taking a sip from your coffee, “Thanks, I appreciate it. It means a lot coming from someone with 12 PhDs.” You tease at the end to which Ford’s cheeks redden in embarrassment and flattery.

Mabel hops up on the counter next to her Grunkle Stan who mutters under his breath, “Smooth move, kid.”

You turn to look back at Mabel, “Any more questions for me?”

Mabel taps her chin, deep in thought. Her eyes flicker over to great-uncle Ford who continues to stare at you in admiration. She snaps her fingers, putting her match-making skills to use once again, “What would you say is your type in a partner?”

“Mabel! What kinda question is that?” Dipper groans, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“Wow, we’re getting to the real hard-hitting questions.” You say in amusement, slightly caught off guard but amused. You ponder the answer yourself, wondering if the kids would understand what you mean by this.

“Well, does your generation know what a silver fox is?” You ask with a sheepish grin and a flush to your cheeks, rubbing the back of your neck.

Your answer causes a chain reaction of different responses.

Mabel squeals with an eager nod, looking over hopefully at her Grunkle Ford.

Dipper and Stan both end up spitting out their milk and coffee respectively.

Ford sits at the table, blinking in confusion.

“What’s a silver fox? Is that a new type of species?”

After cleaning up the mess that Stan and Dipper had made, you finally start getting ready to head out with Ford to visit your old friend. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your outfit before reaching to grab the hairbrush Mabel graciously lets you borrow after you realize that you had forgotten yours in the car.

Stan walks down the stairs, having changed out of his white tank-top and pajama pants into clothes more suitable for going out. He pauses at the open bathroom door, leaning against the door frame, “Hey, while you and Poindexter catch up with McGucket, I’m gonna swing into town later tonight to get you a replacement battery for your car.”

Placing the brush down, you address Stan, “You sure? I can always ask Ford if we could stop by the auto shop on the way back to pick it up.”

Stan scoffs, “Please, my brother’s smart and knows a ton about science-y stuff but he’s hopeless when it comes to cars. Besides, I know a guy, I’ll get you a discount.”

“Alright.. Just let me know how much I owe you, I’m for sure paying you back.” You say hesitantly as you make your way towards the door. Stan steps aside to let you through, “Yeah, yeah,” he says dismissively.

Technically, that guy was Bud Gleeful and that discount was five-fingered but you didn’t have to know that.

“You found your way around the Mystery Shack pretty easily, by the way. Didn’t even have to show you where the bathroom was, I sometimes have a hard time finding it and I’ve lived here for over 30 years.” Stan comments. You realize that even this morning, you walked directly to the kitchen, almost like your feet knew where to go through pure muscle memory.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Ford’s deep voice calls out, walking down the hallway to approach you and Stan.

“Yeah, as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You say, slightly nervous to see Fiddleford again. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if he didn’t even remember you just like you couldn’t remember Ford?

Ford could see the furrow in your brow, a sign he had picked up through the years you had been together that you were overthinking. He hesitates for a second but places a hand on your arm, snapping you out of your rumination. “He’ll be elated to see you, Y/N. Though to give you a fair warning, he looks a lot different than how he did during our college days.” He says reassuringly.

You nod, smiling up at him, your nerves calmed down for now. “Thanks, Ford. I’m gonna go grab my bag and I’ll meet you outside.” You make your way back down the hallway, leaving the twins by themselves.

“Think she might already be starting to getting some of her memories back just by being here…” Stan muttered, following his brother outside. Ford’s eyebrow raises in confusion, “What makes you say that, Stanley?”

“She knows how to get around the house without even thinking about it. I know I gave her a tour but that was just the showroom and the gift shop.” Stan shares his observation, holding the door open for Ford as they step out into the front yard where Stan’s car is parked.

“Fascinating… maybe her memories may come back more organically than we had thought.” Ford muses before placing his hand out, “The keys, Stanley?”

Stan sighs, rummaging through his jacket before placing his keys in his brother’s hand, “You know I could have just driven you two up to the mansion but someone insisted I give you two alone time to bond.”

Ford squeezes the keys in his hand before smiling at his brother, “I should probably say thank you to Mabel then… and thanks Stanley for bringing her here.”

Stan punches his twin in the arm affectionately, “Whatever, I just better not see a scratch on El Diablo when you two get back.” Ford winces but grins, rubbing the spot on his arm.

Right on cue, you close the creaky door behind you, bag slung over your shoulder as you walk over to the pair, “Alright, I’m ready to go! Sorry, Mabel stopped me on the way out to ask my opinion on what sweater she should wear to the roller rink. Apparently, none of you guys have the taste to give her a valid opinion.” You chuckle.

“Roller rink? I swear these kids turn thirteen and think they can just go around without telling their Grunkle where they’re going.” Stan sighs in exasperation, calling out Mabel’s name as he walks back inside. You follow Ford to the car, sliding into the passenger side. “Sorry if my driving is a bit rusty, Stanley’s usually the one that drives us around when we’re in Oregon for the summer.” Ford apologizes in advance, pulling out of Mystery Shack and onto the open road.

“I mean as long we come out unscathed, I’m not complaining.” You say nonchalantly, taking in the sight of the massive trees that tower over the two way road in front of you.

The two of you sit in silence for a bit, neither one of you knowing how to spark conversation. There lingered an unspoken heaviness, mostly due in part the intensity of your exchange the previous night. Ford desperately wanted to talk to you and yet he was drawing a blank on what to even talk about.

As you make your way up the winding hills, Ford finally speaks up, deciding to ask you more about your work, “So you work for the National Parks? Are you a research scientist or did you go the natural resource conservation route?” He asks, remembering how you were torn between pursuing further research or honing in on your love of preserving nature.

“You’re pretty well-informed about the geoscience field. I just tell most people I look at rocks all day.” You admit, toying with the necklace that you had tucked into your shirt, “I started off in research but I realized that most of my time was spent in labs and studying specimens rather than actually out in the field. I love the parks so much, I was itching to get back out there so I switched to conservation.”

“Makes sense, just studying concepts and theories in a controlled environment isn’t nearly as fun as getting hands-on experience.” Ford chuckles. His eyes flick over to see your fingers rolling around the vibrant orange gemstone attached to your necklace, almost choking on his spit. Your eyes meet his and your eyebrow raises as Ford’s expression is like he’s seen a ghost.

“You okay? Do I have something on my face?” You question, pulling down the sun visor to check your appearance in the mirror. Ford shakes his head vigorously, clearing his throat, “No… I… do you remember where you got that necklace?”

You pause at his query, putting the sun visor back into its original position and glancing down at the sunstone that dangles from the simple gold chain. “Oh this? I honestly don’t remember, I’ve had it for quite some time. Why do you ask?”

Ford takes a deep breath before looking back onto the road, “I… well… gave it to you. We drove up here from Backupsmore to start my grant research. Along the way, we stopped near one of the parks and you found that piece of sunstone. You carried it around everywhere so one night, I took the time to fashion it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.”

There’s a pause before you speak. That pause felt like eternity to Ford.

“You know…I think you were in my dream last night...” You say, staring at the necklace with a newfound understanding. “I was back at Backupsmore and walking to the library. I ended up walking up to someone with their head buried in the books and I called out your name but I woke up after that.”

Ford was not expecting that response, looking over at you in alarm, “This may be a stretch but was there indication in your dream that it was fall?” You nod slowly.

“That was the first time we met. You were struggling with the section on seismic refractions in a physics course that I had taken a semester prior. Our professor recommended me as a tutor.” Ford recounts, his fingers gripping the wheel slightly tighter.

“Jeez… could all my dreams… just be memories?” You mutter to yourself but loud enough for Ford to hear it. “You’ve had other dreams….?” Ford questioned, his mind reeling with this discovery. “Yeah, I’ve had them for years. There’s always someone else in them… but before I can figure out or discern who it might be, my body wakes up.” You admit, rifling through your bag before pulling out a small leather bound journal.

“This is a bit embarrassing to admit but I’ve been keeping track of them here.” You say hesitantly as you hold up the leather bound journal. Ford stared between you and the journal in awe. He had always found preparation attractive and he thinks he may have fallen in love with you all over again.

“Perhaps we can go through some of them and see if it correlates to any memories I have.” Ford attempts to say with a steady voice but there’s a hint of excitement in his proposition. “I honestly would love that… I feel like I’ve been trying to crack the code of these dreams without any key.” You reply eagerly.

Ford makes the final turn up the hill, approaching the massive gates to what was formerly the Northwest Manor. Your eyes widen, staring at the impressive estate before you. You watch as Ford presses on the intercom, “Fiddleford, we’re here.” before the gates open to let you in.

“This.. is where Fiddleford lives? Did he make a breakthrough with his personal computers or something?” You question to which Ford chuckles nervously. “You could say that. Honestly, it’s quite a long story that we can talk about inside.” After parking the car in front of the fountain, Ford gets out of the car before opening the door for you.

You two make your way to the wooden front door, which bursts open soon after Ford raps his knuckles against it. You’re greeted by your friend, who looks considerably older despite being the same age as you and Stanford that you almost didn’t recognize him. Fiddleford embraces Ford first before stepping back to assess you. You gulp, anxiety filling up your system once again.

You’re quickly enveloped into a tight hug by Fiddleford, which you return. “My god, Fiddleford, it’s been too long. I thought you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” You said shakily. You two pull apart as Fiddleford grasps your arms, “Sweet sarsaparilla, look at you, Y/N! You make me and Ford look like old geezers! I’m real sorry I hadn’t reached out until now…”

“There’s no need to apologize, Fiddleford… I’m just glad we reconnected.” You say, a wave of nostalgia hitting you. “Come on in, you two! We got a lot of catching up to do!” Fiddleford says, ushering you into the massive home with his arm before closing the door.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls x you #stanford x reader #ford pines x reader #stan pines x you #stanley pines x reader #stan pines #ford pines

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crowsofdarkness · 5 months ago

Text

Arranged: Chapter Seventeen

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: There is smut in this chapter! Unprotected p in v, spanking, oral with female receiving, slight use of a knife but nothing major, slight choking.

Tags: @sakuracyberhex

With the towel wrapped tightly around me, I shook off the excess water from my hair and padded barefoot into the bedroom, ready to get dressed and find out if Bucky or Steve had found out any new information. The shower I intended to have ended up being me soaking in the large tub as I allowed the hot water to ease my stressed muscles.

As much as I would have liked to rush things along in hopes of finding my parents' killer, I knew that it would be useless if I wasn’t one hundred percent mentally prepared.

I came to a sudden halt when I saw the person lounging on the chair, legs spread wide.

“Fuck, Bucky. You scared the shit out of me,” I gasped while clutching the towel closer to my chest.

His chest rose and fell with each deep breath as his lips were parted, something heavy on his mind. He had cleaned all the blood from his hands and was dressed in a clean suit. I didn’t bother to ask where he had cleaned himself up, knowing he didn’t join me.

“Everything alright?” I asked.

Bucky hummed in response.

“Oh-kay,” I replied.

Before I could enter our closet, his deep voice saying my name halted my movements.

“Do you need something?”

He nodded with his hand extended towards me and I took it, our fingers linked together. A quick tug and I was now straddling his lap, the bottom of my towel raising to just below the round of my ass.

Bucky’s hands rested on my hips while his lips brushed against the crook of my neck.

“You smell so fucking delicous, doll,” he groaned. “I’m such a sucker for jasmine.”

The growing bulge in his pants that pressed against my bare mound told me exactly what he needed.

“Bucky,” I breathed.

He was leaving small love bites all along my neck and I rutted myself against him. Bucky hissed while tightening his hold on my hips. My fingers ran through his hair and forced his lips up towards me, crashing them with my own.

It was a quick one, Bucky pulling away before attacking my neck once again.

“I need you, doll.”

I let out a breathy moan when his vibranium hand began to slide up underneath my towel. The coldness of his finger brushed over my already slick entrance and I rolled myself over it, hoping he understood my silent plea.

He answered with the finger sliding deep between my folds and I moaned at the sensation. It had only been the second time we’ve been this intimate but I don’t think I’d ever get used to the feeling.

Bucky’s finger slowly pumped in and out, almost in tangent with my hips as I continued to roll on top of him. Our breaths came out in a mess of curses, my orgasm started to build, and Bucky understood.

So he slipped his finger out, the sudden emptiness brought a frown to my lips. Bucky kissed the corners of them.

“You think I would let you cum that quick and easy? After how you acted tonight?”

I shook on top of him, body covered with goosebumps.

“Bucky, please,” I begged while grabbing his hand in hopes to guide it back to my now swollen clit.

He quickly had my hands between my back, held by his flesh one. The warm breath from his mouth was felt on my cheek as he nibbled on my ear and with his free hand, the towel that was around me had been thrown across the room.

I was bare in front of Bucky’s hungry gaze and he flicked my hard nipple. I bit my lip at the sensation.

“What do you want?” He questioned.

I whined, not wanting to have to beg for it.

“You had no problem running your mouth earlier, doll. What happened?” Bucky teased.

With one hand still holding mine behind me, he started to pinch and pull my nipples giving both of them equal time. My hips dug deeper into his, hoping the friction from his pants would be enough to chase my orgasm.

I couldn’t register what happened until my body was thrown onto our bed. Bucky stood at the end, his dark eyes grazing every inch of my body. His tongue rolled over his bottom lip in anticipation.

“Spread them,” he ordered.

My legs had opened wide for him as I leaned back onto my elbows, my pussy on display for his eyes only.

Bucky was on his knees and pulled my hips closer to his face and I couldn’t stop the squeal that erupted from my throat.

“All I could think of today was the way you tasted on my tongue.” Bucky admitted with a groan as he stared at my wetness.

His tongue spread wide over it and I grunted out a loud moan with my head falling back onto the bed. The tip of his tongue pressed down hard onto the swollen nub of my clit and I forced his face deeper, fucking his face.

Bucky moans vibrated against me and my lips parted in a silent scream as my orgasm washed over me with no warning. I convulsed onto his face and he lapped up my arousal. Even in the faint light of the room, I could see the aftermath of my orgasm shine on the small hairs of Bucky’s face as he looked up from my pussy.

“You taste like heaven, and I can’t get enough,” Bucky admitted.

He kissed his way up every inch of skin until he reached my lips, locking us in a battle of tongues and I moaned when I tasted myself on him. I made quick work of shedding his jacket and dress shirt from him and when I began to undo the belt at his pants, vibranium fingers stopped me.

“Get on your knees,” He demanded again with a deep voice.

“Bucky,” I began.

Skin against skin echoed throughout the room followed by a shreking moan as Bucky slapped my ass with his vibranium hand.

“Ass towards me. Now!”

Without a second thought, I was on my knees in front of him on the bed and the sound of pants falling to the ground sounded in my ears.

“You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have,” Bucky’s warm breath fanned across my back.

But the warmth was gone, replaced with cool metal dragging across my spine. Only it wasn’t his fingers. This was something more sharp.

I bit the inside of my cheek when I realized exactly what was being dragged across my skin.

“I saw the way you watched as I twirled this between my fingers,” Bucky spoke.

He had the knife in front of my face and it glimmered in the light from the bedside lamp.

“Do you have a knife kink, doll?”

I felt like putty in front of him, unsure how to answer. Which only caused Bucky to slap my ass once again.

“I don’t know,” I admitted with a breathy moan.

Bucky dropped the knife onto the bed. “Maybe another night. Right now I want to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours.”

“Oh, Bucky,” I groaned, head falling to the mattress.

With a quick snap of his hips, his hard cock slid into my drenched lips and I began rocking back onto him hoping to help him fill me up. Our bodies rocked together as our moans of desire bounced off the walls of our bedroom and Bucky’s hands gripped deep into my hips as he held me still before sliding in and out of me at an unforgiving pace.

My ears rang with white noise and my eyes rolled back, the sensation causing me to quiver underneath him.

“Fuck, Y/N. So tight. So fucking tight,” Bucky said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, oh, Bucky,” I panted. “I’m so close.”

“Not yet, doll.”

I groaned because there wasn’t any way I could hold on, my orgasm catching up so close. The blood ran from my head straight down to my core as my toes curled. My breathing became ragged when I began to lose control of my actions.

“Please,” I begged.

Bucky now was dragging his cock in and out of me in an antagonizing slow pace, the feel of every vein on his dragging on my walls. I clenched around him, our shared wetness creating ungodly sounds.

Suddenly there was a persistent knocking at our door and I went to push Bucky away but his grip on me held strong, cock still dragging in and out of me.

“Yeah?” Bucky called out.

“It’s Steve. I need you downstairs.”

Bucky’s vibranium finger reached around to my swollen clit and began drawing circles. I had to bite back a moan.

“Is it important?” Bucky asked.

“I wouldn’t be bothering you guys if it wasn’t.”

I peaked over my shoulder. “Maybe we should—oh fuck!”

Bucky’s pace in my pussy started up again and I felt the tip of his cock reach every single inch of me.

With his vibranium finger still working my clit, his other hand wrapped around my throat and pulled my back up into his chest, the new position made my head spin. I let out another loud moan.

"Be quiet, otherwise he's going to hear you. Or maybe you'd like that? Having Steve hear how I have you bent over, fucking this tight pussy,” Bucky grunted in my ear.

My second orgasm washed over me in waves with that simple thought Bucky had planted in my mind and I spasmed over his cock which did nothing to halter his erratic movements.

“Buck?”

He groaned but never responded to Steve.

“I’m going to fill this sweet little pussy up,” he bit hard down on the skin of my shoulder, him keeping up his promise.

His cock throbbed and pulsed as he spilled himself into me and I rolled my hips over him, hoping to get every last drop.

Our bodies fell in a heap onto the bed and Bucky rolled me on top of him, dragging the blanket over our lower half. He brushed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“You alright?” He asked.

I nodded in a haze and Bucky chuckled.

Our eyes locked and we shared a slower, passionate kiss. I could see in his eyes that Bucky wanted to say something, his lips even parted to speak.

“I lo-.”

“Bucky, this is important-.”

Steve barged into the room but I had been too tired to try and cover up more. Even if my lower half was covered, with the right angle Steve could have been able to see my exposed breasts. Bucky simply wasn’t bothered in the way Steve gazed at the two of us, an amused expression on his face.

“I probably should have knocked,” Steve chuckled while rubbing the back of his neck.

I didn’t miss the way his cheeks reddened in a blush.

“What is so important, Steve,” I asked with a yawn.

Bucky left another kiss on my forehead.

“We’ve got a location.”

I was suddenly wide awake.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

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flokali · 1 year ago

Text

𓂆 | Write for Gaza

. . . . .

𓄷 Note: As a member of the Palestinian diaspora, I feel like this is the least I could do to help my people back in our beloved homeland. After 76 years of silence from the world, please do not look away and do not keep quiet – you can make a difference, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Due to the nature of the blog, I ask that you be at least 18 years old before requesting or interacting.

You can use the following links to pick a fundraiser of your choice to donate to: palestinescharitycomissionassoc, palestinian-fundraising, Hussein’s Masterpost and GazaFunds.

𓄷 Rules:

i. Take the time to read the post carefully and decide if you wish to participate. Pick a fundraiser from the list and make a donation considering the prices mentioned below, you are tasked with calculating the donation cost and what it translates to. For requests, make sure to check if there are slots available as I will only be able to take a small number at a time.

ii. Once you have made a donation to a vetted fundraiser, take a screenshot and blur out any identifiable/private information. The screenshot will be necessary for verification.

iii. Reach out to me via ask or DM with the screenshot of your donation, you can specify what it is you want to either [Sponsor a WIP] or [Make a Request] – slots can be reserved for MaR for up to five business days, please tell me if you wish to remain anonymous or not.

iv. I am not making any money from this, the money is to be donated to a vetted fundraiser directly. I am not an intermediary but serve as an added bonus to donating.

v. Donations made to “Khaled and His Family” will be prioritised.

𓄷 Sponsor a WIP:

𓂃 $1 USD equals to 100-150 words; therefore, 500 words is $5 USD and so on.

𓂃 If you want to ask for smut to be added to a fic (all the included WIP have space for smut) , that’s an additional $10 USD and will be asked for only once; if the “Smut Fee” is paid, the word count will increase by default of 500-1000 words, additional words by the original donator will be added to the $10. If the SF has been paid, it will be noted in the post and won’t be required to be paid for the same WIP again.

[If the SF is paid and the donor wants 1.5k words added, they’ll have to add $5, making the total $15].

𓂃 All WIPs have a goal of a minimum of 3k words, the word count will be updated as well as an estimate for the final count – however, it may increase if necessary.

. . .

𓄷 Make a request:

𓂃 $1 USD equals to 100-150 words; therefore, 500 words is $5 USD and so on.

𓂃 For reactions: each additional character is $0.25 USD (¢25) maximum amount of characters is 6 ($1.25 USD). The first character is not charged.

[A request for three characters and 1k words would total $11 USD ; Example: “How would Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo react to a Reader who is cold?” + “1k words” *A request for a one shot does not have the “Additional Character Fee”]

— Available slots for requests: 1

More information down below;

𓄷 WIP

—#๋࣭. I love you, I Own you ; Part 3

Final part to the “ILYIOY” series, meant to tie up the story and finish telling what happens to Reader’s family, Reader herself, and Childe’s feelings about what he’s done.

Current word count: 600~ words • Estimated word count: 9k words

Sponsored:

—#๋࣭. 777

You’re one of the last remaining people of your species, now seen as a luxury to be passed around to the highest bidder. In a twist of fate, Aventurine finds himself with the key – or price – to your freedom, although he never fancied himself a hero he doesn’t mind the way you look at him as your saviour.

Current word count: 1200~ words • Estimated word count: 6k word.

Sponsored: NSFW paid + 1k (700 left) words — Remaining 4k~ words ; estimated.

𓄷 Make a Requests :

—#๋࣭. I will write: yandere, non/dub con, most kinks, death, cnc, gore, cheating, peggings, dom/sub, etc. We can discuss more through message but I’m not open to debating on anything that is specified below;

—#๋࣭. I won’t write: Underage characters, bodily fluids (mainly piss nd scat), cxc, necrophilia, beastiality, unhygienic, vore, ddlg, etc.

. . .

—#๋࣭. Fandoms: Genshin Impact, Star Rail, DoL, Spy x Family, Tears of Themis, Enstars, Love and Deepspace, Wuthering Heights, Twisted Wonderland, Persona 5, Fire Emblem 3 Houses, Ikemen Villains, Identity V, A Date with Death, Chainsaw Man, Haikyuu!!, and What in Hell is bad?

* I’ll also accept unique OC’s made just for the request that you will be able to request for again in the future.

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myfictionaldreams · 2 years ago

Note

I saw your post about poly marauders x reader inspo. What about angst and fluff where the reader is working really hard and doesn't take care of herself? She ends up fainting, hitting her head and having a seizure. (This is common for me.) The boys freak out and rush her to the infirmary. Maybe they take her back after she's given the all-clear and take care of her.

-🐍

Working Hard // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, thank you so much for this request! I hope I've been able to write the information about seizures ok, I personally don't have them so was worried I'd get the information wrong but hopefully, this is alright!

Tags: angst, fluff, fainting, head injury, seizures, not looking after yourself, anxiety/crying, emotional hurt, protective marauders, cuddling/kissing etc.

Words: k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The library was fairly vacant of students as it approached the evening time, not that you’d noticed. At one swift glance, anyone could have seen the state of disarray that you were in. Ink stained your fingers and clothes, the whites of your eyes were bloodshot and dry from the lack of blinking, sweat on your brow and hair unkept from the number of times you’d brushed it out of your eyes.

Not to mention the disorganised surroundings you were sitting in with multiple stacks of books covering the desk space with different length parchment paper, ink pots and a single quill also messing up the area.

“How long has she been like this?”, Sirius asked Lily, concern etching deep into his face as he’d just arrived at the library following his day of lessons. Lily briefly looked up at Sirius with the same look of worry on her face from where she sat at a different desk, having been there most of the day just to keep an eye on you as she knew you were slowly spiralling into madness.

“She’s been like this since this morning. I’ve tried to convince her to have a break but she just wants to finish the work. I’m kind of getting worried about her, she hasn’t stopped in hours and keeps pushing my glasses of water away saying she’ll have it later but she’s yet to have any”, Lily explained to Sirius who was now clenching the strap of his school bag so tightly in his hands that his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white.

“Thanks, Evans, I’ll stay with her don’t worry”, Sirius explained, patting his friend on the shoulder as she stood, having packed her bags ages ago but was reluctant to leave you on your own. “If you see Moony or Prongs, could you tell them where we are please?”

“No worries, I hope you can get through to her”.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head hard enough that his shoulder-length, silky hair flew in all directions as he walked over to your desk. You didn’t so much as flinch when the chair next to you scrapped along the stone floor as he dumped his bag onto the floor.

As he began to talk to you, he kept his voice calm, not wanting to frighten you out of the deep focus you were in. “Darling? Is everything alright?” When you again didn’t respond to having heard his arrival, he reached across and took the quill out of your fierce grip. This snapped you out of your trance as your head whipped in his direction, body jumping in a startle at finding one of your boyfriends casually sitting next to you. Your heart was already racing before the jump scare are you looked between Sirius and the quill you so desperately needed.

“What are you doing? I’m not finished my work yet Sirius and I am not in the mood to mess around, I just want to get it finished”, you demanded to him, reaching out with a trembling hand that had Sirius’ worries increasing.

“What was the last time that you even ate anything? Or had a drink of water?” Sirius asked whilst continuing to hold your quill out of your reach.

Shaking your head in annoyance, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, a couple of hours ago maybe, I can remember. Now please, can I have my quill back!”

Sirius looked at the mess on the desk surrounding you, “Honey, this assignment isn’t even due for another week. You’ve got plenty of time to finish it another day but you need to look after yourself. Let’s have a little break, maybe go and get something to eat and drink and then depending on how you’re feeling, we could potentially finish this later”.

The marauder spoke calmly and slowly, taking in all the signs of your declining health. There were only a few occasions where you had been like this, neglecting to look after yourself and it usually ended with you crying from exhaustion or sleeping a whole day away feeling ill so he needed to be a good protector and make sure this didn’t get any worse but he feared that it was already at that stage anyway with how reluctant you were to listen to his advice.

“No, you aren’t listening to me! I don’t need any of that right now, I just need to finish this today because there’s still the potions assignment due in two days and I need to plot this week's stars for astronomy. There’s also the herbology that I haven’t even started yet so I don’t have time to go for your breaks! Just give it back to me Sirius!” As you were beginning to raise your voice, you caught the attention of the handful of other students who were studying. Sirius didn’t react to being shouted at, especially as it was never something you’d done before, he knew he was getting to the point of no return and was unsure just what it was that he was supposed to do. Let you carry on? Force feed you a snack and make you have a break but then would that anger you more?

Thankfully backup had arrived in the form of Remus and James. “What’s going on here?” the taller Marauder asked, his scarred face flicking back and forth between Sirius and where you were glaring at him.

“We were just about to have a little break”, Sirius began to explain with caution but you were quick to interrupt.

“No we aren’t Sirius! I’m fine, just let me continue other I’ll forget what I’m going to write!”. You were breathing heavily now, like you’d just run up a flight of stairs and Sirius couldn’t tell if it was because of your anger or just another symptom of how worn down you were getting.

It looked like you were close to a panic attack with the way you were reacting irrationally and the two Marauders that were standing took a protective step forward, placing their bags onto the floor.

“My Love”, James spoke carefully, “just take a deep breath for us, okay? We’ll just have a small break and then we’ll help you finish this assignment”.

Your hateful gaze turned to him, “I don’t need help James”.

The way you spoke didn’t falter him in any way as he continued, “Why don’t we just quickly get a drink of water and some fresh air and then we can come back-”

“Don’t talk to me like a child James, I know my limits. I’m just studying, I’m fine, I just need to finish this, but you’re all prolonging it!” You glared at all three of them, not thinking clearly at all and when Sirius once again held the quill away from you, you snapped. “You know what? Fine. Keep the quill. I’ve got plenty more in my dormitory which luckily doesn’t let guys in so I can continue this in some peace and quiet.”

You gathered as many books as possible into a messy pile, bundling them into your arms, along with your parchment paper.

“Wait, Sweetheart, just give us a moment-”. Sirius began reaching forward as you stood abruptly.

One minute you were taking a step forward and then next, it felt like the floor was moving, your eyes unfocused as the books dropped to the floor, swiftly followed by your body as you fainted, accidentally knocking your temple on the corner of your desk as you fell.

Remus, James and Sirius all lurched forward trying to soften your fall but to no avail, as they all watched you hit your head and collapse to the floor However the panic didn’t end there as your body began to convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you didn’t respond to shouts.

“Shit! Go and get Madam Pomfrey!”, James demanded to Sirius who was out of his chair and sprinting within a second as a crowd began to form of scared students. This didn’t stop James though as he remained calm, kneeling next to your head but holding out a hand for Remus, “Hand me your jumper”. Remus pulled the clothing over his head and handed it to his boyfriend who balled it up and gently placed it under your head. “It’s ok baby, it’s going to be ok, it’ll be over soon, you’re safe, everything with be alright”.

With each word that he spoke, he remained calm, even managing to loosen your tie so that it didn’t restrict your breathing as you eventually calmed with your convulsions and remained unmoving on the floor, breathing heavily.

“Remus, help me roll her onto her side”, he asked the man who was also on his knees next to you, looking paler than usual. He followed James’ movements until you were lying in the recovery position, your hair carefully being moved out of your face so that they could assess your head injury as well. Thankfully there was no cut or blood but the area had already begun to swell into a small bump.

Remus shook his head, trying to process anything that had just happened as he then gazed towards James. “How…how did you know what to do?”

“My mum had seizures, usually she takes some potions to stop them from happening but on rare occasions they still do so she and Dad have taught me what to do if they were to happen, It’s not like I’ve done much anyway”. James looked you over, as Remus shook his head in disbelief, feeling guilty that he hadn’t come and found you at an earlier time but just assumed you were doing your usual revision in the library.

Sirius soon arrived with Madam Pomfrey who did her own assessment and praised James for the bits of care that he provided like putting you into the recovery position. You were then moved to the Hospital wing where you remained asleep for the next 12 hours which is what you needed, lots of rest and sleep.

When you did eventually awake, the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains and you were disorientated and confused, being in an unknown area and alone, not remembering how or why you’d gotten there.

Thankfully the Matron was already working and hovering nearby so was able to come over and explain the events that had occurred whilst making sure you drank the numerous healing potions she’d decided you needed. With each glug of the horrible tasting, colourful concoctions, you could feel life beginning to pour back into your body, no longer feeling dehydrated or shaky, however, there was still some memory loss but she explained that was the side effect of the seizure. Your stomach twisted with guilt at not prioritising your health which was also the same sentiment expressed by Madam Pomfrey as she gave you a talking too as well about looking after yourself and making sure to take regular breaks, having food and drink nearby during long study sessions.

Finally, after she declared that you were safe to leave but only if you returned to the dormitory to rest for the next few days, she explained that James, Sirius and Remus had been by your side until late at night. Each of them outright refused to leave your side but as they all fell into their own emotional and physical exhaustion, Madam Pomfrey called for McGonagall who helped to send them to their beds.

The guilt now only increased tenfold at the thought of how worried they must have been. The Matron tried to encourage you to not worry about those emotions for now, but to go and rest and that you’d need to return every morning for additional potions and investigations for the seizure.

Every step towards the Gryffindor common room, nerves bubbled in your stomach, wondering if you should follow the woman's advice and just go to your own dormitory and sleep the day away or knock on the Marauders’ room and discuss what had happened.

Thankfully for your exhausted mind, you didn’t need to decide as soon as you entered the homely common room, the three of them were already rushing down the stairs, dressed in their casual clothes and looking like they were about to run somewhere. They were all startled to see you standing there, relief and worry expressed on each of their faces, along with dark circles under their eyes from the lack of sleep.

Hating the uncomfortable silence, you nervously twisted your fingers together, glancing at the floor, unable to hold their burning eye contact anymore. “Madam Pomfrey said I was okay to leave but said I needed to get some rest”.

Another wave of relief rushed through your boyfriends as they each visibly dropped the tension from their shoulders as they stepped forward. “How are you feeling?”, Remus asked carefully, not being able to watch your nervous twitches anymore as he grabbed your fingers and linked both of your hands with his.

“I feel fine”, you answered honestly, looking guilty up at them still through your lashes.

“What about your head?”, Sirius continued the question, standing to your left and stroking the strand of hair away from the area that he’d seen hit the corner of your desk.

“It doesn’t hurt at all but Pomfrey said those sorts of injuries are easy for her to fix anyway. I um, I don’t actually remember what happened, or even from the last few days but everything else is better, my head doesn’t hurt at all”.

James was the last to approach to your right and you were thankful to see a loving smile on his handsome face as he pushed the rim of his glasses up his nose whilst asking, “And what about the seizures?”

“She said they could happen again but it was mostly triggered because I hadn’t eaten, drank or slept properly and that I needed to be careful in the future. I think it’s something that I had dealt with in my childhood as I remember my mum saying that I used to have some sort of seizures but it’s been so long that I didn’t think it was an issue anymore. She also told me about what you did James and I just… I can’t thank you enough and I’m so so sorry for putting you all through this”. Your eyes were full of tears that quickly escaped and flowed down your cheeks.

James couldn’t watch you cry and rushed to wrap his arms around your body, cupping the back of your head to hold you against his warm, firm chest. Remus and Sirius also managed to join the cuddle. The three of them didn’t expect any sort of apology from you, the anger that had been there initially for you not looking after yourself had swiftly changed to worry and fear so just making sure you were okay was their only goal.

“Shh Sweetheart, please don’t cry. We’re just glad you’re safe. You scared us so much, all I could think about last night was having you in my arms again”, Remus calmed your cries down as he kissed your shoulder, trying not to unload too much of his worries onto you.

The three of them held you for long enough that other students began to wake and enter the common room, rushing past so as to not ruin the sentimental moment. As your sobs turned into hiccups and the tears stopped staining Sirius’ shirt, the long-haired Marauder pulled away to cup your cheeks. “Come on, it’ll do us all no good crying in the middle of the common room and you’re supposed to be resting and to be honest I think we could all do with a rest so let's go upstairs”.

Wiping your nose with your sleeve, you smiled and accepted his outstretched hand, his much larger palm engulfing yours as he gently tugged you along to the boys’ room. The sight of the magically enlarged bed only increased your exhaustion as your body seemed to slump with the need to crawl beneath the sheets.

Before you could do as you wished whilst still wearing your day clothes, James stepped behind, his arms around your waist and held you for a second, swaying slightly on the spot as he dipped to kiss your cheek. “Do you want my jumper? Might be more comfortable than what you’re wearing?” he asked with hope in his voice and you knew he always loved seeing you in his clothes.

Turning in his arms and stroking your fingers through his hair to brush it out of his face you nodded tiredly, “Yes please!”

James grinned, pecking your lips before swiftly pulling his jumper off and then helping you to underdress down to your underwear and helping you into his jumper. Remus and Sirius were already down to their boxers and in bed, Sirius in the centre with his arms open and you smiled in relief, crawling over his body and settling on top of his chest. Everything seemed to fall into place as James followed behind you and lay next to Sirius, all three of their arms wrapping around you like a weighted blanket and a breath later all four of you were asleep.

When you woke next, it was because something was tickling your nose. Squinting open your eyes, you were welcomed to the sight of Sirius’ silky hair completely covering your face and his warm breath only an inch away from yours. Laughing under your breath, being careful not to wake the Marauder, you brushed the strands out of yours and his face, tucking it behind his ear.

As your fingers settled back cuddled into your chest, Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed followed by him groaning and bringing your fingers back up to his hair. You giggled louder now as you began to play with his hair and scratch your nails against his scalp, loving the sweet smile on his pretty-boy face.

“You know Pads, asking her to pet you, isn’t what I’m sure Madam Pomfrey classed as resting”, James mused from across the room, no longer by your side. Peaking open your eyes once more, you lifted your head as Sirius flipped off James who was sitting across the room, playing with his gold snitch with a pile of food waiting beside him.

“Is that pancakes?” you asked hopefully, sitting up further by pushing off of Sirius’ chest. Remus who was also still resting on the bed perked up at his, opening one eye and rolling over, his hair sticking up in all directions nearly as dramatically as James’ as he looked for the food.

“It is indeed, and there’s also toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit, anything you might need”.

The four of you repositioned on the bed, leaving space in the middle to carefully lay the trays of food that James had managed to steal from the kitchens and all ate until stomachs were full and happy.

“What time is it?”, Sirius asked, still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes.

“Just after lunch, so we’ve only slept for a few hours but seeing as we missed breakfast I thought it might be a good idea to get some food into our systems”.

“Thanks, Prongs”, Remus said before taking another bite of his toast and looking in your direction. “How are you feeling after a bit more sleep?”

“Good, like nothing even happened, I feel like I’m back to normal”. Remus nodded at your words, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, causing you to sigh and place your fork back onto your plate that was balanced on your nap. “I know we need to discuss what has happened and I’d rather do it now instead of waiting”.

The three Marauders looked at each other, unsure of how to approach the subject before James took one for the team and spoke first. “So you said you don’t remember anything, is that still the case?”

“The last thing I remember is going to Potions on Monday afternoon which was apparently a few days ago, I don't remember anything up until waking up in the hospital wing”.

“Do you understand what’s happened though? And how serious it was?”, James continued, his usual light and laughter not present in his eyes and you had to look at your fingers holding onto your plate as you felt the intensity of his emotions.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey explained everything and why I had the seizure. I know I hadn’t looked after myself that day, but sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in my assignments for classes and if I don’t do them as soon as they are given to me, I’ll run out of time to complete them and then I’ll fail and then they’ll kick me out of the school and-”.

A scarred, rough hand pulled the plate from your grip so that he could gently hold both of your hands, tipping your chin back so that you were looking up at him as Remus came through with his words of wisdom. “You know that’s just your anxiety talking, there’s no way they would ever kick a talented witch like you from Hogwarts. You’re nearly top of all classes, always help others with their work and get good grades on your own. But you really need to look after yourself. To even get to the point of fainting is so dangerous Sweetheart, imagine if we weren’t there when this all happened?”

It was Sirius who began talking next, “We aren’t saying you need to completely change your ways but you fought us so hard in the library to even just have a little break. From now on, maybe we should put a bottle of water and some snacks in your bag and please, if you’re studying, just give yourself a rest every hour or so, even if it's to have a walk around the library to stretch your legs. Is that ok?”

The way he was speaking to you so softly and kindly had your heart melting and you hated how quickly tears were in your eyes again. You were so thankful for them, expecting them to be angry in some sort of way but once again proving how much you loved them and they loved you.

Unable to form any words, you nodded your response towards Sirius who smiled and opened his arms for you to crawl into again, his hands rubbing up and down your spine, soothing the emotions away.

James sighed away his own anxieties, moving over to kiss the back of your head before clearing away the food, waving his wand and everything disappearing back to the kitchens. “Right, a day of relaxation coming your way my love”, he began, trying to cheer the atmosphere and already causing you to laugh through the tears. “We will be having regular naps throughout the day, and plenty of food that will be ready whenever we are, All I need to do is summon one of the house elves. We have books, Sirius record player, we could even venture down to the common room if we’re feeling adventurous. Oh! I also caught Lily on my way back from the kitchens and she gave me some fruity bubble bath that her muggle parents have sent her that’s supposed to be nice so a nice candlelight bath will be ready whenever you are Love”.

You were beaming at all three of them, “Thank you! For this and everything else you’ve ever done, thank you”.

James shifted closer so that he could peck your lips, slowly and with love. The action was repeated by Remus and Sirius as you all naturally linked together in a cocoon of warmth and safety as you all hugged each other.

“I love you”, you whispered against whichever one of their shoulders you were nuzzling into. The three of them promised their love back to you before deciding on the first plan of the day.

#poly!marauders #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #hp fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #the marauders #marauders fluff #mine*

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jinogasux-fr · 8 months ago

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Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information�� well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

#santae #jin speaks #i spent so much time on that game and mann do i regret it LMAO

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reiderwriter · 2 years ago

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♦️Pardon The Way That I Stare♦️

Chapter 8 of That's What You Get

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Summary: After some encouragement from Emily and Penelope, you try to explain your reaction to Reid at work. Until you find yourself reacting to him more and more, distracting you from doing your job. Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, Reader is just really horny for Reid (REAL). A/N: We're getting closer to the climax and I'm SO beyond excited for everyone to read the next chapter because I think it's going to be so good but also so evil and I enjoy that very much. If you like the series, let me know by dropping a message in the replies or in my inbox, and follow my other account @reiderslibrary for just fics from me without my random thoughts and bullshit in between... You can find masterlist here, and the series masterlist is linked here!

You were stupid, there was no other logical explanation for it. Staring at Emily on your doorstep as your brain stood there, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, trying to process the words she’d just said to you, there was really only one thing running through your brain.

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” you groaned, your hands coming up to your head as you pondered your next move.

“There’s no chance that you’ll believe this was all just one practical joke that I’ve been playing to test how quickly you could turn up at my place with wine?” You looked up hopefully at Emily, and she returned with a concerned look of her own, that silently communicated ‘No, I wasn’t born yesterday.’

“Worth a shot, come on in.” You opened the door wider for Emily and grabbed a second glass from your kitchen to share the wine before she could start her interrogation.

“So,” she prompted as soon as you returned to the couch, and you sighed heavily as you nodded and began.

“I married Reid in Vegas.”

“Yes, I got that from the text, what I didn’t get was why, what, when, where, who, and how! Question words, Y/N, important information if you please.” You chuckled at Emily’s tone, and you melted a little into your couch. Just like with Penelope, letting others know had comforted you. You’d never been one to bottle up your emotions, and you couldn’t exactly tell Spencer how you felt about him, so your dearest FBI-assigned best friends were a welcome compromise.

“You promise not to tell anyone? Penelope knows, and so does Rossi, but no one else does. Well maybe someone else but I don’t know who that someone is - long story.” You rambled, still aware of the promise you’d made with Spencer, and knowing that you’d actually broken it twice now.

“Scouts honor, now get on with it.”

“You were never a scout.”

“That’s beside the point, Y/N, now spill!”

“Do you remember when we finished the case in Vegas last weekend, and we all wanted nothing more than to go home, but the jet was landed?” A small nod encourages you to continue. “Well, Reid offered to show me this bar that he thought I’d enjoy, and honestly, I’d had a tense phone call with my mom and was feeling a bit crappy, so I thought a drink wouldn’t hurt.”

“A drink might get you married though.” You glared at her at the interruption, and she held her hands up in surrender as you continued.

“The bar was amazing, and he noticed I was feeling down, and I don’t know, he just has this way of making me feel calm and fully together. I was a mess earlier that day, but with like one short conversation, he kind of turned my mood entirely around.” You flushed then and decided to ignore Emily’s next interjection.

“Oh god…”

“Apparently after that, we went to a casino or another bar or something, but honestly, I drank so much I don’t remember any of that. But at some point, we bought a very expensive engagement ring, made our way to the Bureau for Wedding Licences and then a chapel and now we’re legally married.” You tried to end your story there, but Emily wasn’t having that.

“No, you’re not stopping there. You said you kissed, and you ruined everything, and you mentioned a wedding night in that text, do not shortchange me now, Y/L/N. Wait, should I be calling you Reid now?” She grinned at the flush that coated your entire body with that, and you buried your head in your pillows.

“Okay, okay. Well, we’re trying to figure out who the witnesses to our wedding were. We know that two team members were there, and Penelope was one of them, but Spencer doesn’t know that yet. Again, another long story.” You let your words sink in as you realize the tangled mess you’d spun for yourself in the last week.

“We spent some time researching our options on Saturday night, to see if we could get our memories to come back and I might not have left until a couple hours ago?”

“Y/N! You’ve been banging Reid for the last three days?”

“No! No, nothing like that, we didn’t- well, we did just not at his house, but also I don’t think you want to hear about that.” You spilled all the details about your last few days with Reid, his touches, his care, the dates you’d been on, the way you’d wrapped yourself around each other in your sleep, but still woken up to an empty bed, all the way up to that fateful kiss and your stupid reaction.

“So there, I’ve ruined it.” Emily looked at you pityingly and started to say something when your doorbell rang a second time.

“That’s reinforcements,” Emily said, standing and moving to greet the newcomer herself. You were relieved when Penelope Garcia came marching through the door, ice cream in hand and mouth already moving.

“Have no fear, your guardian angel is here. Emily texted me en route and I disentangled myself from my plans with a now very suspicious Derek Morgan to race over here. I think I managed to throw him off the scent by mentioning my ukelele lessons with Sam though, he always kinda glazes over whenever I go into heavy details about that.” She perches herself on the couch beside you and starts organizing things on the table, pulling out three tubs of ice cream and locating adequate spoons in the drawer.

“Pen, you didn’t have to do all this…”

“Yes, I did. Emily tell her I did. I need all the details that you suddenly remembered Y/N or I’m going to go crazy, and let me tell you, I am not an effective tech analyst when my mind is all aflutter with wonder.” You smiled awkwardly at the situation. You’d glossed over the details of your wedding night with Emily, going no further than insinuating that you’d had sex, but now the pressure was on.

“We just want to help you, Y/N. And we’re morbidly curious.” Emily joined in. Both of their eyes were trained on you in a hopeful expression, leaving the ball firmly in your court as you fought down the embarrassment rising from the back of your throat.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath.

“I think it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” was all you managed to squeak out before they were reacting, asking twenty questions each in the space of a minute as your body both caught fire at the memory and shrunk down to the size of an ant at the attentions.

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll tell you more but you have to calm down.” They stilled themselves and bit their tongue, and you continued.

“Well I don’t want to get into the, uh, specific details, but let’s just say that he’s very good at putting theory into practice. That or he’s actually very experienced in sex and nobody ever realized, because the things he was doing were like, expert-level maneuvers. I didn’t think I was that flexible until he was hitting from-”

“OKAY not that much detail, this is still Reid we’re talking about.”

“Sorry,” you giggled sheepishly and decided to spare them all the details. “All I’ll say is that we both finished multiple times. And I might have stupidly let him finish inside of me.”

“Y/N, you should know better! Safe sex is really important, especially if you’re fucking in a hotel room in Vegas.” Emily half-chastised you, but you could hear the humor in her voice and just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t exactly having sex with a stranger, I was having sex with my husband.” That got you a teasing cooing from the two women and you buried your face in your hands again.

“So he’s your husband now, is he? How long have you been married? Like three days?”

“Five. Fuck, we’re running out of time.” The length of time that had elapsed since you’d walked down the aisle shocked you as soon as you’d acknowledged it, and you downed your glass of wine as your brain ran rampant.

“Rossi said that if we didn’t tell everyone in a week, he’d do it for us so we didn’t lose our jobs, and we need to file for an annulment soon so we don’t have to get a divorce but there’s like… a one week window, and it’s already been five days. Shit. shit shit shit shit.”

“Hold on, Y/N, you said he kissed you earlier today, right? I wouldn’t exactly recommend getting married and then dating your partner, but it sounds like you both at least like each other enough to pursue this relationship, why would you need an annulment?” Emily’s confusion only served to remind you of the reason they were both here in the first place.

“That’s the problem. I think he thinks I don’t like him like that. And it’s totally my fault that he thinks that, because when he kissed me I didn’t react well and then he just left, and I think I ruined everything.”

“Define not reacting well,” Emily probed further.

“I pushed him away and slammed the door in his face. But that was only because I remembered everything that happened between us on our wedding night, and remembering the most satisfying experience of your entire existence while face-to-face with the man who you’d hitherto never thought capable of that, and having it occur in like 0.02 of a second is a paralyzing experience.”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” Penelope whispered from her side of the couch and you nodded heartily in agreement.

“And what, he just left?” Emily asked again, tone incredulous with all the information she was receiving.

“Well when I’d had my moment and realized what I’d done, I opened the door again and he wasn’t there. And that was only like a minute later. He messaged me this after he left.” You grabbed your phone and opened it up, showing the girls the message and noting their winces in reaction to his words.

“It’s bad, right?”

“No! No, this is salvageable! You just have to… be brave?” Penelope didn’t seem to believe her own words as you pulled your phone back and poured yourself another glass, ready to drown your sorrows once again. Emily was a little more confident.

“Okay. Here’s what you do. I’m going to talk to Rossi for you tomorrow morning at work, get him to hold off on his big reveal while you go and explain everything to Spencer. How does that sound?”

“That sounds doable, I guess.” You sniffled a little, rereading the text having made your emotions jump back up to the surface again as you fought off tears.

“Brilliant. And then you can stay married and continue having wonderful sex, and make some genius babies and make me their godmother.” You threw a pillow at Penelope that she was just too slow to catch, and filled the rest of your evening with wine, ice cream, and good company.

–X–

Emily sends you a thumbs-up text after she talks to Rossi the next morning, and a weight falls off your shoulder. One step down, one to go right?

You’d arrived at work probably a little bit too early, having spent the night tossing and turning and playing every possible outcome in your mind over and over again. It had been half an hour before the next person turned up, and Hotch had only given you a confused half-nod in greeting before secluding himself in his office. Rossi had been the next to arrive, about twenty minutes later, and he too had questioned your presence but not in so many words.

“Early morning, Y/N? Settling into new routines in your newly-wed life, are we?” You’d stuttered out an answer but he was halfway up the stairs by the time you finished, obviously meaning the comment to be rhetorical.

Morgan, Emily, and JJ were all next, showing up only a few minutes before your shift officially started, but there was no sign of Reid, and you were running out of time - and privacy - to talk to him.

Then at 9 sharp the elevator doors opened, and from your seat at your desk, you watched him step out, feeling your tongue grow thick and your heart beat faster as he made his way into the office. This wasn’t how you were supposed to feel, this was cartoonish like a teenage boy in a brat pack movie watching the hottest girl in the school walk down a corridor. This was Spencer, your husband, and your best friend, and here you were feeling giggly and shy.

You almost felt like texting Emily back, telling her if you started giggling and twirling your hair, to take you out back and put you out of your misery.

He didn’t make eye contact with you as he settled into his morning routine, pulling off his scarf, putting his bag away, and then moving to the kitchen to fill up on his morning coffee. You did your best to covertly follow him, trying not to alert the others to your heart eyes as you looked at him and forgot everyone else.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blocked off the entry to the kitchen as he spun around to face you, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

“Sure, Y/N, what’s up?” His voice didn’t betray any of his emotions, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you could tell you’d hurt him the day before. You took a deep breath and walked closer to him as he continued making his coffee, again refusing to look you in the eyes as he continued as normal.

“It’s about yesterday-”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about this here, right?” He cut you off in a whisper, his voice sending shivers down your spine as you gripped the countertop beside him for support. You’d gotten closer than you expected at first, somehow magnetically drawn to him, your body language just as open to him as he was closed to you.

“I think we need to, Spence. I’m sorry, I panicked.”

“No, it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done that-”

“Spencer I got my memory back.” His eyes widened and he blossomed in front of you again, attention entirely on you now as he took in your words.

“You did?”

“Partially, only the… Only the memories of your hotel room.” His eyes darkened in understanding, moving unconsciously closer to you, placing a hand next to yours on the counter as he effectively trapped your body in.

“Oh. Those memories.”

“Yeah. So you can see why I was a bit distracted.” He nodded at your words, but he was still coming closer to you now. Your body felt weak underneath you, entirely reacting to his closeness, the warmth rolling off his body, the electricity sparking between you despite him not touching you anywhere.

“Distracted?” His eyes darted to your lips as he grew closer, and your legs chose that exact second to give in underneath you.

Your knees hit the ground uncomfortably, as he reacted to your sudden movement, trying to grab you and pull you up, but only managing to grab the hand that was already holding the counter above you, awkwardly twisting and pinning your arm up.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m sorry, I think… I think I should go,” you were face to face with his crotch, and looking up at him in that position was certainly giving you unwholesome thoughts. He jumped back as you scrambled out from underneath him, begging whatever god was out there that none of the profilers you worked with would question the dazed state that would follow you for the rest of the day.

–X–

Despite your need to straighten things out with Spencer, you’d avoided him for the rest of the day, and, having been called out on a case, you spent the better part of the week avoiding him as well. After literally falling for him, you’d decided that maybe in your newly weakened lovesick stage, it was best for everyone on the team that you try to stay as clear-headed as possible.

Not everyone on the team, though, agreed. He’d trailed after you like a lost puppy for days now, and you wanted nothing more than to give in and throw yourself in his arms. But there was a murderer on the loose and you needed to give your entire attention to it.

He’d tried multiple times to get you to help him with some work, suggesting that you go through some files together, or check out one of the witnesses together, much to your discomfort. Luckily, Hotch had picked up on some of the discomfort between the two of you and had kept you somewhat apart, not asking questions.

But the last night on the case, he’d cornered you, and you had to work twice as hard to extricate yourself from the situation.

“Y/N, why are you avoiding me?” He’d caught you alone in the hotel lobby, pulling you into a dark corner without much foot traffic to confront you. “Is it because of the kiss? Because the way you talked about getting your memories back the other day made me think we were okay about that again, but if we’re not then I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not the kiss, Spence, and we really shouldn’t be talking about this here.” You tried to turn and leave, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you back into him, bodies pressed flush up against each other now.

“Spencer let go, someone could see us.” Even you knew your voice sounded half-hearted, not really wanting him to stop touching you at all.

“If it’s not the kiss, then why are you acting like I don’t exist?” His face was close again, and you felt your body reacting the same way it had done in the staff kitchen. Your knees went weak again, but he was prepared this time, holding you up in his arms, gently maneuvering you so you were pinned against the wall.

“Is this it?” He asked, letting his hands trail over your body as you whimpered under his touch. “Your reactions?”

Your brain was empty of a response, so you just held still, desperate to see what he would do or say next.

“You know, the deadline on our annulment has passed. It’s been over a week now,” he said, his forehead resting on yours as he brought his hips ever closer.

You were the one that gave in first, pushing your head up to capture his lips in a crushing kiss, needing him the way you needed water, food, and sleep. You’d deprived yourself for so long, and now you were hungry, ravenous, and he was the same. Your lips opened, and soon his tongue was snaking in, caressing you in ways both familiar and new, and your entire body heated up to its boiling point.

You moaned under his touch as his hands wandered, silently begging for more of him. Your brain only kicked back into gear when you registered the sound of voices about to turn the corner. Quickly pushing him off, you pulled yourself together just as JJ and Morgan found you there.

“Y/N, Reid, Garcia got a positive ID on our unsub, we’re about to go SWAT his house, get your gear ready.”

Either you were very good at masking your emotions and the physical outburst you’d just shared, or Morgan was just too caught up in getting his job done that he didn’t look too closely at the way Reid’s tie was half undone, your lips were pink and swollen and that both of you were breathing abnormally. Whichever it was, you were just thankful that neither of them questioned you as you all left to go and do your job.

–X–

To your detriment, you’d avoided him on the jet back as well, choosing to wrap a blanket around yourself and sit in a single seat at the end of the plane rather than risk his hands on you again like last time. You already couldn’t be trusted around him, and you wanted to take no risks with everyone else present.

He’d sat in your line of vision purposefully though, making eye contact every now and then to remind you that he was still watching you. You’d feigned exhaustion and pretended to sleep in the end, despite the flight duration only being a measly two hours. He’d let you exit the plane alone though, and said a general goodbye to the team upon landing, giving you a second look and wave before taking himself home.

The ball was firmly in your court.

“What the hell was all that?” Emily whispered in your ear as you both watched him leave alone. “What happened to the plan?” You smiled awkwardly, not wanting to admit how fucking horny the man made you feel, and how it was affecting your work performance so badly that avoiding him was the only way to keep your job.

“We had the talk, everything’s fine.”

“The two of you aren’t walking out of here hand in hand, so obviously everything is not fine, Penelope, tell me I’m wrong.” The other woman had stumbled into the bullpen upon landing and Emily had immediately drawn her into your hushed conversation as soon as Morgan had made to go home as well.

“What’s going on, hot stuff, I thought you’d be enjoying every second of your marital bliss by now.”

“He’s too distracting.” You whisper shouted at him. “He kissed me again last night and I almost let him take me in the lobby. And Morgan and JJ almost caught us, so yeah, he’s too distracting.”

“Oh god, you’re horny for Reid.” Emily laughed slightly at the implication as if it had just dawned on her and you hadn’t had an entire conversation where you fawned about how good in bed he was.

“Yes, I’m horny for Reid, okay, now please stop laughing, I’m in pain.”

“Well you know there’s only one solution, right?” Penelope said as if it were clear as day. “You need to go have sex with him again. See if you can be normal with him when you’re not so pent up.”

“I don’t know, Pen….” You were still staring at the elevator doors, even after it had been so long since he’d left.

“What is there to not know? You like him, he likes you, you’re married. Like you said before, it’s not like you’re having sex with a stranger, he’s your husband.” Having your words thrown back in your face gave you the boost of confidence that you needed, and you sprang from your chair.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Emily repeated and you looked back down at the two women.

“Okay, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go seduce my husband, I guess?” You turned on your heel and left, marching out to the sounds of whoops and cheers from the two women behind you.

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#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds self insert

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izumi-fanclub · 5 months ago

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A3! Translation: Chikage SSR Card “Rouge Rose of Love” [Valentine’s Day Gossip]

How will Chikage deal with Valentine's Day this year? He receives a blessing and a curse of course.

Part 1

Chikage

Never thought I’d share lunch with Chigasaki.

Itaru

I mean, it’s just the pizza place if we’re looking at the big picture, that’s the only common link.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Thank you for waiting, here’s your parmesan and diavola.

Chikage

Thanks, diavola’s finally here.

Itaru

I’m surprised, I half expected it to look ridiculously red like some sort of challenge menu.

Chikage

Chigasaki-san, maybe you’re just not enough of a junkie?

Itaru

Ahaha, you’d be wrong.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Excuse me for interrupting your meal, but we’re passing out our new Chocolate Chunk pizza, would you like to sample them out?

Itaru

Hehh, looks good. Thanks for the food.

Pizza Shop Clerk

Thanks for your feedback! How about you, sir?

Chikage

Sorry but I’ll have to pass, my doctor told me to avoid sweets.

Pizza Shop Clerk

I see, I apologize. Please continue enjoying your meal.

Itaru

…Is that your new year’s excuse now?

Chikage

Whatever do you mean?

Itaru

It’s about to be Valentine’s soon.

Chikage

…Ahh, so that explains the chocolate on the new menu.

Itaru

That look on you, it definitely went over your head.

Chikage

Because I’m not interested.

Itaru

Senpai you might not be, but the female employees definitely are. I overheard them talking about giving out some love chocolate to a certain senior.

There used to be rumors of you having a fiancée, but they pretty much lost their status effect now.

You’ve gotten some before here and there too.

Chikage

Well, they say gossip stays around for about 75 days or so, someone out there probably thinks I’ve been married off silently.

Who am I to deny it, even.

Itaru

Come to think of it, you’re gonna go shopping with director-san today. Wouldn’t that be the perfect chance to get down on your knee?

Chikage

Kneeling in front of director-san in public would be too unfair to her.

…In any case, I feel guilty about pulling director-san into this mess, so I’ll try and think of something else.

Izumi

Wow, the star anises really have such a pretty shape to them!

Chikage

By the way, Tsuzuru said he’s gonna make fried rice tomorrow, buying this would make it more authentic, right?

Izumi

Hmm, that’s true but then again… they look so beautiful that it feels like such a waste.

Chikage

Then, how about we buy some cinnamon sticks and make some mulled wine?

Izumi

Sounds like a plan! Let’s go with that!

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

——Sorry to keep you waiting.

Regarding the spice you ordered, I checked and it seems like it’s gonna be delayed due to some logistics issues…

I apologize for not informing you in advance.

Chikage

No worries, so when can we expect to receive it?

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

I think you can get it in around 4 days.

Chikage

Four days from now… I have a meeting on that day, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it before closing time.

Spice Specialty Store Clerk

I’m sincerely terribly sorry…!

Chikage

It’s fine, it’s not like we’re in a hurry. I’ll come by again on the weekend.

Izumi

Oh, well in that case, should I get it in your stead?

Chikage

You okay with that?

Izumi

Yup, I happen to have some errands nearby that day.

Chikage

Then please be my guest.

Izumi

Mhm, leave it to me!

Chikage

…Sorry, thank you as always.

Izumi

What’s wrong? You’re suddenly all serious…

Chikage

Nothing, just a lot on my mind.

Part 2

Tsumugi

…Whew, this mulled wine really hits the spot, it’s got some nice spices on it.

Citron

Gets me feeling all warm~

Azuma

The star anise adds a beautiful touch to it too.

Chikage

Director-san said the same thing too, so my suggestion on using it for fried rice was a no-go.

Azuma

Fufu, that makes sense. That’s definitely like her.

So, where’s the director at?

Chikage

Looks like the sleep got to her. To think she was the one who was looking forward to it the most.

Itaru

Sleeping this early is gonna mess up her sleep hygiene.

Azuma

Yeah, I received some chocolate that goes well with the alcohol, I wanted the director to try them out too.

Sakyo

You’ve got that pricey stuff on you again.

Banri

In a few days the place’s gonna get flooded with chocolate from everyone, so director-chan still got a chance to eat some.

Tsumugi

You’re right, Valentine’s is just around the corner.

Itaru

In other words, the overpowered senpai is gonna have his weakness revealed soon.

Chikage

This is a serious matter though.

Itaru

Just call it schadenfreude I guess.

Banri

Ain’t that old news?

Tasuku

So do you have any counter-measures in mind already?

Chikage

Nothing yet unfortunately.

Itaru

At lunch you turned down that chocolate pizza talking about some “My doctor told me not to eat it.” excuse.

Chikage

If I use that excuse at work, it’ll stir up a different kind of trouble.

Tsumugi

Hmm, then again it’s hard to come up with a reason to turn them down especially when it’s done out of the goodwill of the giver.

Chikage

But this year I got a full day’s worth of meetings scheduled so I think I can manage.

Banri

Oh, well that’s a relief.

Citron

It is no relief! Just a temporary solution! That will not do! The same troubles will appear again next year!

Itaru

…He’s being sensible for once.

Chikage

I forgot about it this year and couldn’t do anything so far, but next year I’ll be on a business trip.

Citron

No! That is still a temporary solution!

Banri

Feels like the issue’s just growing.

Citron

That is why we should practice rejection together!

Chikage

Practice rejection?

Azuma

Fufu, well isn’t this interesting.

Tasuku

That’s to be expected, honestly.

Itaru

…I’m not surprised anymore at this point, but still, why me?

Citron

But of course! This is a family matter for everyone!

Chikage

Sorry, Chigasaki.

Itaru

Nah, you don’t sound sorry at all. …Sigh, it’s a relief I got up and finished an event early.

Chikage

So Citron, we went all the way out in Veludo way, care to explain why that is?

Itaru

Yeah, you can practice rejection at the dorms.

Citron

That much is obvious. It is because we are actors! This is the only place to practice!

Chikage

That’s…

Itaru

Do you mean…

Citron

Frankly, a rejection etude! Yes!

Passerby A

Oh, isn’t that spring troupe?

Passerby B

It is! Think they’re up to doing a street act?

Chikage & Itaru

…

Itaru

…I’m not sure if I’m up for this.

Chikage

Let’s just get this over with.

Chikage & Itaru

…

Passerby A

…He’s looking at his phone, is he waiting for a notif?

Passerby B Maybe he’s checking the time.

Chikage

“Are you here to meet someone too?”

Itaru

“Eh?” Chikage

“I mean, isn't it Valentine's day?”

Itaru

“Yeah that’s true, some lady hit me up and told me to meet her here around 1pm.”

Chikage

“What a coincidence, I’m here for the same reason.”

“Whenever I get called out like this on Valentine’s Day, I get excited like some highschooler wondering what it’s for.”

Itaru

“Yeah, I get you. Me too.”

“Forgive me for prying but… have you decided on an answer yet?”

Chikage

“Hmm, I was thinking of turning down——”

Itaru

“Ehh, you too?”

Chikage

“So you’re in the same boat?”

Citron

“——Sorry, I was late!” Chikage & Itaru

“No, it’s fine——”

Chikage

“Ehh…”

Itaru

“Eh?”

Citron

“Eeh!? Chikage and Itaru, why are you both here…”

“...No way, silly me! I accidentally sent the message to both of you!”

Chikage & Itaru

“Huh…?”

Passerby A

… So basically, one of them’s the genuine one and the other is a backup?

Passerby B

Woah…

Chikage

“Um, Itaru-san, do you have a second?”

Itaru

“Yeah, of course. I was meaning to talk to you too.”

Chikage

“You can reject first.”

Itaru

“Eh, no way, that’d make me seem like the backup. You should be the first to actually say no.”

Chikage

“That’s gonna be a different story.”

Kanazuka

So this is Veludo Way. It’s my first time here, but there sure are a lot of people… Huh? Seems like there’s a crowd over there.

Chikage

“——I’m not giving up, even if I was just the second option, I can’t let it end like this!” Kanazuka

!? Is that Utsuki-san and Chigasaki-san from the company…!? This is unbelievable…!

Part 3

Chikage

Thanks for your hard work throughout the meeting.

Employee A

Great job as well. Ah, since it’s Valentine’s Day, I prepared some chocolate.

Employee B

This calls for tea time, then. I’ll go make some coffee. You drink coffee too, right, Utsuki-san?

Chikage

I——.

Employee A

Oops, I think Utsuki-san will get some from his girlfriend later.

Yeah, that’s right. Sorry about that, Utsuki-san.

Chikage

…? No it’s okay.

Then, I’ll take my leave.

Chikage

(If I head over there now, I think I can make it just in time for closing time. I wonder if I should contact director-san about how the spices are.)

Itaru

——Hey, senpai. You got a minute?

Chikage

Chigasaki?

Chikage

Is it something urgent? If it’s not, just tell me about it at home.

Itaru

Looks like the gossip hasn’t reached you yet.

Chikage

Gossip?

Itaru

Apparently, even though your fiancée is dating me now, there’s a rumor going around that you haven’t given up on her completely…

Chikage

…Hah?

Itaru

A co-worker saw that previous street act we did and mistook it for a fight between you and me.

Chikage

Street act…

You surely don’t mean the one where Citron pulled a bootcamp over dealing with “rejection”, right?

Itaru

That’s right, after all it wasn’t rehearsed at all and we ended up just going with the flow of Citron’s act.

Chikage

…So that explains it, is that why I felt a weird vibe during the meeting earlier?

Itaru

We’re actors, that’s understood by regulars of Veludo Way, but the co-worker that happened to witness it was someone unfamiliar with the whole concept.

Then the gossip mill jumped on the bandwagon and said stuff like “Maybe there’s some truth beneath the surface of that act.”

Chikage

Talk about a pain…

Itaru

You said it.

Chikage

(I kinda took advantage of that in the past, so I don’t really have the right to complain.)

Chikage

… Speaking of, what happened to the rumor that Chigasaki’s sister is my fiancée?

Itaru

I don’t know, I think they just assumed you’ve broken up.

Then, what do we do? Looks like senpai’s history with love is getting pretty complicated.

Chikage

Whatever, it’ll probably just die down soon anyway so I won’t do anything about it, I’ll just head home.

Besides, hanging around you like this might be counterproductive.

Itaru

True that. I’ll wrap up my overtime work and head home early too.

Chikage

(...Not sure if it’s the rumor’s effect or I’m just being overly conscious of it, but I didn’t get any chocolate at all.)

(...It could be better, but I guess it still works out in the end, that rumor will die down soon, and I’m sure the director——)

Izumi

Ah, Chikage-san!

Chikage

Director-san?

Izumi

I got to the store early and had some time so I thought of bringing it to you directly.

Chikage

That’s right, I was just thinking of telling you to meet there since I could make it before closing time, but…

I realized I completely forgot to do it.

Izumi

Really now? That’s pretty rare for you, Chikage-san.

Chikage

A bit of an unexpected issue came up.

Izumi

Good on you for dealing with it.

Chikage

… Director-san, are you in a good mood?

Izumi

Fufu, I just found something good, is all. Ah right, the spices, here you go.

Chikage

Thanks. You’re a huge help.

(... There’s a ribbon on it, is this part of the service?)

(From an outsider’s perspective, they’ll probably assume I’m receiving Valentine’s chocolate out of context.)

(Not sure if the director noticed, but I feel the gaze of people from the company around for a while now.)

Izumi

What’s up?

Chikage

Nothing, it’s just that it feels like a gift when it’s ribboned like this.

Izumi

It is… kind of a present.

Chikage

Present?

(There’s something else aside from the spices I asked her to pick up.)

Chikage

…Does this bottle also have spice?

[ Option 1: Open and see for yourself ] Izumi Open it and check it out. Chikage Right here? Izumi Is it not good here? Chikage That’s not the issue but… well I’ll just open it.

[ Option 2: It’s nothing suspicious ] Izumi Don’t worry, it’s not fishy or anything. Chikage Should I be concerned? Izumi No, I mean it! It really is just a gift. Chikage Well, as long as it’s director-san, I’ll believe it.

Chikage

…Chocolate?

Izumi

Yup, they’re spice seeds coated in chocolate, they were pretty good when I tried them out at the store!

I bought it thinking maybe Chikage-san could enjoy it too, it’s Valentine’s Day after all.

Chikage

…

Izumi

Oh, don’t worry about returning the favor, a tasty curry made with the spices would just be fine.

Chikage

(I didn’t mean to drag you into this again… I’m sure the gossip’s gonna get updated tomorrow.)

…It’s not my fault anymore, it’s the director’s.

Izumi

Hm?

Story Clear!

#a3 translation #a3! translation #a3 #a3!#chikage utsuki #a3 card translation #a3! card translation #utsuki chikage

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mochelisgf · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER ONE —

ᰔ — pairing: morgan cheli x oc (mar williams)

ᰔ — word count: 1600

ᰔ — warnings: none rlly, little flirting and mentions of drinking, partying that’s about it

ᰔ — links: character list, fanfic masterlist

ᰔ — story masterlist

ᰔ — authors note: hiii we are back :3 juju storyline is starting to appear….jealous mo storyline? Anyways so the first 3 chapters for this fic are already written and have been uploaded to Wattpad, so if ur feeling impatient then u can read ahead on at @m0cheli on Wattpad, hope u enjoyyyy and let me know if there’s anything that you want in future chapters or u have any blurb ideas of mo and mar 🩷

The first thing Maureen hears when she wakes up is the door to her dorm opening and two familiar voices echoing throughout the main area.

You’d think her first instinct would be to cover her ears and groan in tiredness, but no, her first instinct is to jump up. If Georgia and Renee of all people are up and lively……then what time was it?

Immediately jumping up and grabbing her phone she checks her alarm ‘snoozed’. snoozed?….maureen doesn’t even remember the last time she’s snoozed her alarm, oh god she looks a mess right now.

And just as she’s about to turn her phone off, a notification catches her eye. It’s a email, from the office in charge of the dorm unit building – confused she clicks on it, her confusion deepens even more when she reads

‘Sometime within the next 2 weeks, you will receive a roommate in replacement of your last. Please contact us if you have any other information’

…..what the fuck—

The music is blasting. The smell of weed, liquor and sweat floating throughout. And her first sentence is

“Oh my god I can’t believe I let you guys drag me to a frat party – on campus. I thought we were supposed to go to club rio, what the fuck” Maureen whines, dragging the k in the last word

“Dude calm down, being at a frat party is the last thing you need to be worried about. What you need to be worried about is how you haven’t gotten pussy is 3 months– ” ree smirked out

“oh that’s so unnecessary, you know unlike some people, I actually have a life and a job and shit to do–” Maureen responded

Georgia sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead before saying

“Okay no. Y’all need to calm down or seperate, I don’t know but all I know is – mar you need to go and talk to people, and no I’m not referring to the people you share classes with. Talk to a girl or a guy and most importantly have fun okay, I’m gonna go bye” making a salute pose before heading into the crowd.

Maureen stands awkwardly, looking around hoping that she’ll see someone she notices – anyone really, just wanting to get away but needing an excuse; that doesn’t last very long when she hears a squeal come from beside her —

“Kayla!!! Oh my god, where have you been” ree asked as she smiles widely — ree’s friend — kayla responds equally excited “Hiiiii, i've been around, ugh im so glad you were finally able to come —”

She interrupts herself as she look on the other side of ree, her eyes landing on me “And youuuu must be Maureen, ree mentions you all the—”

“Kayla!” her cousin proclaimed, embarrassment flooding her face; and Maureen in response snickers. “Oops….well uh me and the girls haven’t been here long, but you can come chill with us if you want” kayla responds

Ree turns around and looks at the girl standing beside her “Mar?” she says, giving her a look of desperation — and i mean who am I to deny my cousin? “Yeah that’s cool” Maureen says, giving an awkward smile.

Kayla, Maureen and Renee make their way to the other side of the room, stopping along the way to get drink — her cousin, who turns around to meet her eye tells her –

“dude you really need to take more…you days, you need to loosen up, we’re at a party. Act like it.” A smile sitting on her lips as she hands her the cup filled with – honestly she doesn’t even know

“Yea, okay sorry” she says, accepting the cup and taking a sip – her face scrunching up from the taste — Maureen has always had a problem with apologizing, doing it when there's no reason to, but I guess that’s what happens when you're a people pleaser.

Finally pushing through the crowd, the trio makes their way to a more closed off area, sitting there are a big group of girls, everyone engaged in their own conversations whether they were the ones explaining it or listening.

Kayla walks fully in the room, leading us in. The first one to notice us is kk — i’d never met any of the girls on the team but kk – everyone knows kk, if you don't know her on the court you’ll know her from tiktok videos that pop up on your for you page randomly.

“Hey kayla girly pop!” is the first thing the girl says, everyone in result turns – conversations stopping abruptly.

Kayla moves closer towards me and ree, putting one of her hands on our shoulders “Guys this is Renee – my roommate's friend and her cousin Maureen! Mar is a law major – crazy right?” she says, a smile large on her face

And just as abruptly the noise ended; the noise of welcome started.

Some time has passed by; Maureen, ree and georgia – who later rejoined the two are all tired out from dancing and singing, voices raw and broken – the bright blue lights and smoke floating in the room making their heads and eyes hurt.

Maureen gets up from her seat and turns slightly towards the two girls “hey I’m gonna go get another drink, want anything?” both girls shake their heads no and so Maureen smiles slightly before walking off

She makes her way to the built-in bar, a taller man behind the counter – obviously hired, looks up at the girl and smiles signaling a ‘hold on a minute’ before finishing the drink he was making and handing it to the man that sits across from her.

“What can I get for you, pretty lady?” He says with a kind smile

Maureen smiles back “umm what’s like…the weakest drink you have?” Maureen doesn’t drink very often, and when she does she usually sticks to 2-3 drinks max. But after the news of her getting a replacement roommate and the amount of stress she’s just been in recently, lord knows she needed a night of complete freedom.

The man responds back “don’t worry I got you” and starts making her drink – he gets to the second step before she realizes what he’s making – a ‘vodka soda’ – exactly what she needed right now. He finishes the drink quickly and serves it up to her.

And so Maureen sits there, by herself, slowing sipping on her drink and scrolls on her phone – snaps a pic or two of herself and when she near finished she’s about to call the nice bar man over when –

“Hey! You’re Maureen right?” A voice beside her says. The voice sounds like the most…..calming thing she’s ever heard, like silvery and comforting and just a little bit raspy. Maureen immediately turns around, wanting to put a face to the voice and comes face to face with – someone she’s never met?….

Obviously Maureen’s face says what her voice isn’t and the girl chuckles slightly in realization “I’m Morgan, I play on the girls basketball team. I wasn’t there earlier but the girls told me that Renee and her cousin had joined us, just wanted to properly introduce myself, you know without all the drunk idiots surrounding us.” she says, her voice slowly fading in embarrassment and her cheeks turning a light pink when she realizes she’s began over talking

“Oh yeah, they told me a few of you were missing! Nice to meet you, I’m Maureen – which you already know but um….you wanna sit?” I suggested, gently tucking my hair behind my ears. “oh yeah I’d love to, thanks” she accepted

We sat there for who knows how long, just talking – shy and wandering looks but everything about this girl felt genuine – the way she actually seemed interested in what Maureen had to say, how they’d only known each other for an hour and a half and she felt like she could tell her anything.

“So I’m like ‘what are you talking about, the reason the boy became what he was isn’t because he was born like that but because of the horrible living conditions he had to live in and the lack of – ”

“Marrrrrrr i'm tired, let's go home.” The girl hears, as she turns around and sighs deeply, ree laid out on the bar counter. She turns back around facing Morgan – her face displaying obvious annoyance. Morgan in reply smiles slightly, her head tilting down slightly before she gets up out of her chair

“Do you need help?” is the first thing she asks – no, first thing she’s said in almost 20 minutes as she was previously listening to me talk non stop about something she’d known nothing about

“No i should be okay, I gotta go find my other friend and then get them both home, thank you for asking though that was kind” Maureen says also getting up from her seat, having to slightly look up to the 6 foot tall girl and her deep brown hair down that’s laying softly on her shoulders and her big beautiful brown eye –

“Um I don’t have my phone on me right now, but how about I get your insta from Paige tomorrow?” Morgan asks, wanting permission before doing so,

Maureen fiddles with the top of her skirt and responds back “Yeah that’s cool, I’ve gotta go now, so I guess I’ll see you later then?” reaching up to give Morgan a hug, and she feels the girls hands hug her mid back before they separate, both of their cheeks red and hot.

As Morgan is walking away, Maureen sighs deeply before collecting herself and helping her cousin up to her feet

“Hey so, where did you last see Georgia” –

— INSTAGRAM —

liked by morgancheli, juju watkins, georgiaeous and 83 others

mrwilliamsss club classics

view all comments......

jujuwatkins yk u lookin a lil too fine i mighttt have to fly you out idk

— mrwilliams idkkk u might have to

georgiaeous she may be hot but she's secretly a loser!!!

— mrwilliamsss i don’t know how to respond to that ngl

morgancheli So like... Hi 😊

— mrwilliamsss Hey 🤗

r3neewilliams you post too early

— mrwilliams just say your sleep routine sucks! Hope this helps

#morgan cheli smut #morgan cheli x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn x reader

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mullermilkshake · 3 days ago

Text

Inspiration is an odd thing

Part 6 <- Part 7 -> Part 8

It's time to write that damn book.

Summary - You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.

Pairing - Yandere!Suguru Geto x F!reader

Tags - DDDNE, NSFW, Smut, thigh riding, dirty talk, after care, flirting, kissing, Suguru is life, be my husband please.

<<< Master list >>>

Credit to - @404UND_ Twitter ☆ (Geto) - @maronjapan9a (Satoru)

One day, I aspire to be as creative as you, I work hard to keep my life in order.

You are a perfect example of that, you have accomplished so much. I try so hard to keep my wife happy and make sure my job pays well. I love my job but sometimes it's too much. Reading your book takes me out of real life for a little while and it fills me with so much joy.

You are amazing.

—

Inspiration is an odd thing.

A person could find it anywhere.

In a park on a summer morning, noticing the joggers go by in their sportswear with a huff and squeak of their sneakers. Straight to the peaks of distant mountains nestled and isolated overlooking a still and silent lake.

Inspiration is subjective to the individual who could allow themselves to be just that. Inspired.

And in the most messed up way, the visit from the Detective, the murder and unwelcome scrutiny inspired you to start writing your next book.“Severed Connections.”

It all started from where you left off in your first book, the last body never being found and allowing the reader to assume it was to be left and forgotten forever. But a year later, another body is found, sitting right next to the old one.

A Detective assigned to the case now is entrusted with both, looking into the forensics of the new and old cases and deciding whether they’re linked. Well, of course they are linked, because the killer, the true killer, had not been caught and the justice system sent the wrong man to prison.

You wouldn’t particularly want to admit that this triggered a blight of inspiration from Detective Gojo’s visit, but after some pressing for information from Suguru, you understood that there was a second murder, he just didn’t give you the specifics.

Sometimes, Suguru treated you like you were this delicate flower, even though most of the time you were not. It wasn’t anything that bothered you, but when it came to serious things, it took some training and pestering for him to give any information up. He was under the assumption that it would upset you.

At times it could have under the right circumstances, but other times, it gave you plenty of opportunity to make notes.

And that's what you did the following morning. If her death was horrific, then maybe you could honour her somehow by allowing the killer to be caught with words until the Detective in real life could with the law.

Detective Gojo was an odd one. You knew from the get go that there was something different about him. White hair like you had never seen partnered with such striking blue eyes like jewels on a river bed.

The complete contrast to Suguru. The darkest hair with the most unusual purple irises’ you had ever seen. A rare quality for an even rarer man, someone you still couldn’t read all that well at the best of times. A mystery that enveloped you, took care of you incessantly, adored you endlessly and catered to your every whim despite many protests.

Whereas Detective Gojo was different. In the little time you spoke with him, there were some qualities that stood out to you. He was determined, that was for sure, asking hard headed questions to skimp on the time.

It meant he was either up against it, and needed to rush. Or far too intelligent to bother with long conversations with two strangers when he had so many other people to talk to who would not yield the results he wanted. You assumed it was the latter, and you were curious about everything he spoke about with Suguru whilst you were sitting outside in the rose garden. Suguru did not go into specifics, but commented that it was entirely possible that someone was stealing from the garden.

So that morning, leaving you in your pyjamas typing on your laptop, he went out and bought a camera for the garden, just like the garage.

“Do you think this is necessary? That Detective really thinks someone’s stealing from here and using them to commit crimes?” It sort of sounded like your first book.

Suguru was halfway up the ladder by now. “Well, he said he has a theory. I just want to make sure we have our bases covered in case he tries snooping around or destroys this garden looking for evidence or something.”

It took months painfully growing and sorting these roses just right. A small chill rolled through and shook them in their established rows. You pulled the blanket around your shoulders tighter and nursed the steaming coffee mug beside you.

“You really think he’s going to come back?”

He fiddled with some wires and pulled out a screwdriver from his back pocket. “Oh yeah. He seems like the sort of man that will keep going until he’s exhausted all of his options.” He turned to you and smiled sincerely. “But don’t worry, we’ll just keep going like normal, I’m sure it won’t be too much longer.”

You smiled back and resumed your typing. “Sounds like something out of a thriller book, doesn't it? Two killings… gruesome details and a lone Detective finding the facts out all on his own.”

The pregnant pause was everything, but after that, Suguru sounded amused. “Oh no… Don’t tell me, that’s where you got your inspiration from? You’ve been non-stop typing all morning.”

Did that make you a bad person? Probably.

“I know.” You inhaled with a hiss. “Once the ideas started coming I wrote them down and then I realised what I was making and then it sort of went from there- I know I shouldn’t be using inspiration off of someone I actually knew, but when the ideas come, I can’t stop them until I’ve at least written them down.”

Was he laughing? He was laughing. “You and that mind of yours. Whatever you need to do to get that book written. I’ll support it.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“Hey, did you hear back from those publishers yet?”

You shook your head with disappointment. “Not yet, but when we go home I have a meeting with Nitta to discuss it. It should sort of take this long, there’s five of them to make a choice, but they’re leaving this awfully late to make the right decision. And then I’ve got Ijichi on my back.”

“The literary agent?” Sugru had only been introduced to him once.

You, however, saw him many times lurking around Nitta’s office. He was a weedy man, but his persistence was unparalleled. “Yeah, he keeps asking me if I want to switch to his agency, and every time I say no. I’m happy with Nitta, I always have been. I should really discuss this with her and see if she can get him to drop this.”

“Maybe it's best to ignore him for a while, at least while you're on vacation. Maybe we can think of a plan when we go home?” He flicked a little switch once the cables were attached and the little thing lit up for a moment. “There, all done.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just going to focus on writing right now.”

Sugru climbed down and wandered over to you, bent down and placed a chaste kiss on your temple. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll go and get breakfast started. Call me if you need me, alright?”

“I will do.” You watched him leave. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

After some moments getting yourself sorted, you ran off in your own mind to the world you had created… Where were you?

Oh, right…

Detective Riley studied the abhorrent view of the old lady matron who had been known to all in the small little town and just as kind to every member of the community. He was conflicted as to how someone so innocent could endure such a callousness.

She had been gutted like a week old fish. Her intestines pumped up and inflated as a bicycle inner tube would, cleaned and placed in a symbolic pile of meat to decipher a clue which was beyond Detective Riley’s comprehension.

Whoever did this defiled her and enjoyed it. That much was obvious. And each moment he watched her decaying eyes bulge right out at him, the indignation festered like a boiled sore that desperately needed lancing or it would burst.

“Riley?” His partner pushed a plastic evidence bag in his face. “We recovered this from ‘er body.”

“From her body?” It was a book. A thriller novel published way before Detective Riley had even set foot out of his mother’s womb. It begged the question. “How did that fit inside her?”

“The bastard carved a section of her back away, took the spine out and inserted it in there.” He took out the spine and placed the spine of the book. So the man was a troubled comedian too.

“I’m sorry… But he cut out her tongue too. So far, we haven't been able to recover it.”

A possible trophy, or a statement. “Speak no evil.”

No, that wasn’t right.

“Speak no evil?”

“Speak of no evil… I think she saw something she wasn’t meant to.” Detective Riley ran through reams of memories involving cases he had personally led over the last five years.

Something was so familiar. Like he had seen it before. “Hear no evil. The man's ears were cut off and full of manure… Remember that case a year back?”

“Oh yeah. The Sonahan farm, right?”

There was another, Detective Riley was certain, almost impossible to be wrong, he just had to find it. “I’ll be back at the station, I have to go through the archives.”

His partner walked after him as he shot out under the haphazard yellow police tape. He couldn’t bare to look at the body any longer. “What are y’lookin’ for?”

“I’ll know when I find it. Just settle things here and I’ll call you.” He made it briskly to the car, something sat teetering on the tip of his lips that would not dissolve until he tasted the full flavour of justice.

He would not stop at anything in the name of justice...

“Sweetie, breakfast is ready!” Suguru called out from the kitchen window just around the corner of the cabin and pulled you out of the little world that had begun materialising around you.

“Coming!” You closed your laptop and hugged the blanket closer, taking your things in to see Suguru in the kitchen cooking up a storm, the tallest tower of pancakes in his littlest apron.

“You shouldn’t be going through all this trouble when you’re on vacation y’know? You work so hard, I should be doing that.”

His softened features looked so pretty in the rising sun dripping through the window. “This is nothing compared to those breakfast muffins you make. I will always cook for you. If I had it my way, I’d be doing everything for you.” That statement was a hundred percent true.

But you did enjoy being independent. “And I’d do the same if you let me, Doctor Geto . You take such good care of me, who takes care of you?”

You sat yourself down at the table practically drooling at the syrup oozing and dripping down the mountain mixing with the perfectly browned butter glistening in that very same sunrise.

“You do much more for me than you think, Dearest.” He began cutting and loaded up his fork. “Seeing you happy is all I could ask for, so eat up and let me know how good they are.”

He fed you and you sat there in awe at the subtle flavours or raspberry and white chocolate. Oh so good… If it was possible to shrink yourself down and eat these pancakes all year, you would have thrown your credit card down and decided on monthly payments.

“They taste like hugs.”

There were limited things you knew how to cook and Suguru out done all of them. You baked, as was your talent, but if you wanted a fillet mignon with a red wine reduction and dauphinoise potatoes at midnight, Suguru would make that happen.

And his red wine reduction was particularly tarte and smoky. “That’s the love I put in them.”

“Ugh, so corny- keep going.”

Cooking was a characteristic that certainly took the surprise from your lungs when he invited you over for dinner for the first time. You remembered the way he moved around the kitchen with such fluidity, a tight black shirt and matching pants with such a small little hand towel hung over his broad shoulder.

He made dinner and dessert from scratch and it was then you were pretty sure you were already in love with him.

“I have plenty of corny lines but I don’t like using them all up at once. I’d hate it if you pounced on me every time I spoke.”

You took another bite, on your own this time, savouring the golden sweetness. You always wanted to pounce on the man whenever he spoke. “I do most times. But I do have self control.”

Suguru chuckled in astonishment, placing his large hand and slender fingers over your bare knee. “Oh, do you now? I don’t approve of lies, sweetheart. I know you have no self control. You know why?”

He lent in close and waited for you to shake your head like a little startled bunny. “Because I know I only have to say a few words and you’ll drop what you’re doing because you’re that predictable.”

“I’m not predictable.” You didn’t believe that statement in any universe you might have stepped through.

He inched closer so his lips were to your ear. “Who was it who begged me to stay at the house and leave in the morning so I could fuck you silly?”

Guilty. So guilty. The flush in your cheeks had already volunteered to put its hand up for all to see in the entire room. Ornaments and scattered art pieces on the walls just watching you caught in a lie.

“Well… I see how that might make me look guilty but I’ll tell you why it isn’t.” He looked at you like you were that fillet mignon.

Anything? No?

“I’m waiting for your excuse.”

An excuse, right. Suguru hadn’t shied away. “I don’t have one-”

Suguru took a hold of your lips, his long commanding fingers moving around that little dip at the back of your neck, tracing it lightly to send such shivers down right down to the base of your back.

You had to decide between sitting on your fiancé’s lap, and those pancakes.

They are pretty good pancakes.

But Suguru’s lap was much safer for you to sit on, though just as hot.

It was like Suguru could read your body language before your mind even made it up for you, as he always did. He pulled you into him and had you sitting with your leg either side of his thighs, chests pressed against each other so flush, the blanket was off and slumped all over the kitchen floor.

By now, he was lifting the back of your shirt to let his finger tips graze the prickled skin there and now forced those shivers back up to your neck in which they made you dizzy.

“The pancakes will get cold.”

Suguru ignored your statement and asserted himself with his tongue up the sweet spot of your neck. You melted more than the browned butter seeping out onto the plate, the heat of his touch burned more than the skillet.

So cold with goosebumps lowering under his cosy hands wherever he moved them. Further up your back until he found the clasp of your bra. “You’re so silly for even packing this. It should go in the trash can. You don’t need it.”

It pinged and let your breasts loose, you weren’t even sure how he got it off of your body when his lips tasted of syrup. But he did, and flung it across the room somewhere so that he could pull away from your swollen lips and start teasing your nipple over the shirt fabric.

He knew that sent you wild. Wild enough to start grinding yourself over his crotch. Of course he didn’t miss a trick though and picked you up and moved his leg out, leaving you sitting on one thigh.

“You’re taking up so much writing time… hon. Anyone would think- god - would think that you didn’t want me to write my book…” How you even managed to speak that coherent sentence was beyond you, but it would not happen again.

“You can leave at any time, sweetheart.” He was goading you and returned to the wet patch on your shirt, grazing his teeth on parts of your breast that he knew to be sensitive.

“Nuh uh.” So much shaking of your head seemed to pass the message on.

“We could pass the time better if you were riding my thigh. I’d hate for you to do any of it yourself though, so why don’t I do it for you?” His hands were grasped firmly over your hips. He could have lifted you up like that as though you were nothing.

Your weight was nothing to him, a simple factor in being who you were. It never stopped him holding you right there against the wall, legs over his shoulders while he ate you like his last supper, tongue right inside you as though he’d lost something.

Nothing was impossible for Suguru. If you asked, usually he would give. Within reason of course, but you came to understand that if you begged him to steal a piece of art from the most famous museum in the world, he would.

If you asked him for a piece of the moon for your birthday , he would buy a rocket just to take a piece of moon rock and make it into the finest piece of jewellery to lay around your neck and watch that jingle and shake while you sat on his face.

Suguru would capture the world for just a moment if it made you smile.

That’s what set him apart from other men.

He rolled your hips with minimal effort, both of your hands planted on his shoulders to support yourself and watch the growing wet patch on his sweatpants. Your little pyjama shorts did nothing to stop the spread.

“What a beautiful view. If I knew better, I would say you were getting close already.” He wasn’t lying.

The softness of his sweatpants rubbed between your legs like a pillow. His thick and muscular thigh acted as the perfect anchor and flat surface to get the best point of contact and soon you found yourself getting the good kind of numbness.

Suguru read your body like a book, rocking your hips back and forth as naturally as breathing. “Did you want to go for a new record, pretty girl? Were you all pent up before I even touched you? I apologise for not seeing to you earlier. I should have left the cooking for after.”

You were going to come quickly, little touches and barely any effort left you a pile of goo riding on the building sensation of pure clitoral stimulation. Yeah, you were going to come like this, especially with his tongue riding the skin of your throat in just the right way.

“S-suguru.” You were so close.

He knew that. “Tell me.”

“I’m- I’m going to- fuck I’m going to come.” You didn’t need to tell him that. He knew before you did when you were going to finish all over his leg, staining his pants like theory were going out of fashion.

“Don’t keep quiet, sweetheart. Let me hear you.” Suguru got off to your moaning.

He never said it, but you guessed that he hated not hearing you, like it made him self conscious. If you weren’t making sound, according to him, he was not doing his job properly.

And get audible you did, very well. Right in his ear, moaning, humming with your eyes closed, almost tearful. Such a powerful move with something so simple on your ride down and arms cautiously hooked around his neck so you didn’t choke him.

“If that isn't a way to start the morning I don’t know what is.” He returned to his usual soft self, the fire in his eyes extinguished and smouldered away to leave adoration to fill its place.

“Let me run you a bath.” He chuckled amusedly. “You have foliage in your hair, how did I miss that?”

There was a crisp part right there like he said, it must have come from the rose garden when your blanket got caught on a thorn while you were laying your belongings down on the table.

A bath wouldn’t go amiss with the chill that had settled in over the cabin.

“A bath sounds lovely. Will you join me?” You wanted to return the favour.

“Not this time, sweetie. I’ve already showered. I’ll wash your hair.” Sometimes Suguru just enjoyed bathing you.

Not that you were complaining though there was a slight inward groan of disappointment. Anything involving your hair he knew was tantalising. A scalp massage or any massage for that matter.

He also ran a mean bath.

“Your hair’s gotten longer.” He said, tipping your head back and letting the water from the little cup in his hand roll over your hair to get the bubbles out.

He scrubbed and ran his fingers through it, tempting sleep as the steam rose from the foamy surface. “I’m thinking of growing it out, but I’m not sure what I want to do with it yet.”

You fiddled with the lumps of bubbles, listening to them pop and churn about with each dump of water displacing the tensioned surface.

“It’s beautiful no matter what you do with it.” His tone was doting, as was his aftercare.

It made you smile to yourself. “So what are you doing today while I write?” Part of you hoped he’d offer to make dinner tonight. You were craving dauphinois potatoes once you’d thought of them.

“Well I was thinking about going fishing after cutting more wood. Maybe catch a few fish and make your favourite.”

Dauphinoise potatoes. You ought to have married him right there and then.

“Really?”

He huffed with such amusement and tipped the last cup full of water. “You shouldn’t accept anything less. I might take the rifle too, maybe I can catch something bigger and prepare it before we head home.”

That was right, you were due to head back home in four days. The week was already getting on so fast. But you couldn't afford to get the blues just yet.

“That sounds good. Maybe you can show me how to use that knife of yours this time? Also I’d wait until I was out of the bath before cutting wood. I should watch to make sure your form is right. Wouldn’t want you to pull something.”

“That is important.” Suguru leaned over and squeezed the water from your hair. “I think I should show you everything I can do in the woods.”

It was a date then.

There was something about a man going hunting. It stirred everything up between your legs and just the thought of watching him chop wood, get too hot and bothered and pull his shirt off from his chest.

Well, that was just too intriguing to miss.

Part 6 <- Part 7 -> Part 8

If you would liked to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗

Tags - @nanamineedstherapy @winter-soldier-101 @bubera974 @miyababbby @inthedarkshadows000

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@yan-love-reader

DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

The oc side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their's. Cross posted from my AO3

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!