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#enemy within explained
tiffanytoms · 1 year
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Such a good video about the differences between LOVE ❤️ and DESIRE 😏:
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Desire comes with a host of feelings that are not always so favorites of love… jealousy, possessiveness, aggression, power, dominance, naughtiness, mischief. Basically most of us will get turned on at night by the very same things we demonstrate against during the day. The erotic mind is not very politically correct.
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foxstens · 7 months
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red lizards are so cool
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infohazardouz · 1 year
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DEMON WALLY DESIGNS! im still working out his design but here’s a general vibe hehehahe as well as some thought provoking sketches... HUUUGE infodump about the design & demon wally au below!
below i explain my choice of representing hindu designs as opposed to christian ones! if you want to skip to the relevant information pertaining to the actual au, jump to the big bold JUMP HERE paragraph!
alright, to address the elephant in the room: no, this isn’t the typical demon/devil design you may be used to! i was originally going to keep within the red-horned pointed tail kind of mythos that generally stems from christianity/christianity aligned concepts, but then i realized i honestly don’t know much about that stuff and don’t really feel qualified to handle it in a narrative. i also know that, especially within the welcome home fandom itself, a lot of people have religious trauma that generally tends to be from various branches of christianity, so i thought this would be an interesting solution: seeing as i know a fair amount about hinduism, wally’s design is inspired by concepts about demons in hindusim in general! that way, it’s easy to write and hopefully refreshing/non-triggering to the audience! also it’s fun!
JUMP HERE: Wally’s design in the demon AU is inspired by Asura in hindu mythology! That’s why he’s got like a billion hands- I’m looking at adding jewellery/a tail/other stuff, but it’ll fall in that general theme. in terms of lore relevancy: asura in hindusim were not strictly evil, which you will find reflected in my story. wally isn’t evil per say; the neighbourhood is his turf, and he will protect it from outside threats. that being said- he is generally self-serving for now and may not always have the best intentions for his fellow neighbours. what his overarching goal is and who exactly his enemy is (as well as Home’s relevancy to the story) is being left to you to discover as the comic goes on! themes of puppetry, where wally darling ends and the asura begins, and stuff like that is left ambiguous for now! puppetry will also play a role in the story, as well as self-awareness and meta themes. hinduism and religion WILL NOT play a role in the story itself. anything i think might need contextualizing will be contextualized in the description of every update; honestly im just pulling the asura elements for Wally’s design and part of his character! this will still be a very accessible comic to people of all backgrounds. if you have any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to send them to my askbox or leave them in the comments!
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kiyinian · 29 days
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Getting closer to the lieutenant
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
Simon has never been one to believe in fate, much less would he believe it if someone told him that he would be head over heels for someone, he would say it was a lie. But that had to change when he met you, at that very moment, the fate of the two of you was intertwined.
He met you for the first time when you joined the base, a simple rookie recruit who would be trained by Simon. No big deal, just another part of his job. Little did he know that within a few months, you'd have him wrapped around your little finger.
It all started in training, the way you obeyed his every command, without hesitation or anything like that, hell, even when you didn't understand what you were supposed to do properly, he couldn't get angry with you.
If it had been any other soldier, he would have yelled or complained, but when you looked at him with those little eyes of yours, your eyelids fluttering as you focused on his every word.
"Hold the gun more firmly." Simon murmurs, in the same thick, husky voice as always.
You nodded hesitantly, aiming at the target, you concentrated, knowing that Simon was looking at you. You focused, concentrating on the target and trying to hit it - you narrowly missed.
If it had been any other soldier, Simon would have been rude, too strict. But with you, he couldn't get angry, watching you poke your cheek, your lips pressing together in a thin line.
It was impossible to get stressed with you.
He stopped frowning, took a few steps closer to you, positioning himself behind you, keeping a respectful distance.
"Relax, keep your elbows here." He says, holding your elbows underneath, straightening your posture.
He had never, ever, done this with any other recruit, but something about you made him do it.
After a few attempts, you managed to hit several shots on target, in sequence, and this drew a few murmurs from him. Apparently he was complimenting you, in his own way.
Maybe he was being too gentle with you, maybe he really should be stricter, but he couldn't make himself do it. He was probably treating you too well to be just a recruit.
In the corner he could see Johnny smiling, the bastard knew Simon perfectly well. Something was brewing there.
It definitely was.
Little by little you got closer, and it became more and more obvious that your relationship wasn't just one of superior and subordinate. He couldn't deny the concern and closeness he had for you, it was just unconscious.
He was always giving you tips on how to take better care of yourself, teaching you defense techniques, giving you clear and precise instructions so that you would follow them to the letter, all for your protection.
On missions, he was always on the communication device with you, asking every now and then if you were all right, always keeping in touch. You often didn't speak to each other, but just the fact that he could hear you breathing, or even giggling at something he said, was enough for him.
And that became even clearer during your last mission. Because of a mistake by one of the soldiers, things went wrong and you had to separate.
Simon despaired, he thought he would never see you again, or that you had been taken by the enemy, or something worse. He felt as if he had stopped breathing, and he only thought straight again when he heard your faint voice on the communication device.
"Sir...?" You mumble, and Simon almost falls to his knees and thanks whatever God kept you safe.
"Where are you? Hurt?" He asks in a hurried way, ready to come at you anyway.
"Just scratches, sir. I'm down south, in the abandoned blue house." You explain hurriedly, hoping he'll understand.
"I'm coming." Simon didn't wait for your answer, he knew where you were, and he wouldn't stop until he saw you again.
Once he found you, he held back every urge he had to hug you, to keep you safe in his arms. At that moment, he realized how much he had grown fond of you. The fear he felt at the thought of losing you. You'd taken up space in his heart. You'd done so much.
That day he realized that you were much more than a teammate, you were much more than he wanted to admit.
Even after promising himself that he would never fall in love again, he found himself breaking that promise in a conversation with you.
It was meeting day, you were sitting next to Simon, Gaz and Johnny were in the corner smoking a cigarette. You were waiting for Price, and then you started playing with a hair tie.
Simon looked at you, taking a sip of coffee, he even had an intrigued expression for you.
You then wrapped the elastic around your ring finger, admiring it.
"I think I'd look nice with a ring." You say, looking at Simon with a smile.
He raised his eyebrows, his lips threatening to form into a smirk.
"You want someone to put a ring on you?" Simon says with a certain amusement, looking at your finger.
"Ah, maybe so..." You say, starting to whisper, "I don't know, I think Riley would be a great surname."
That's it, you left him speechless, all giddy over a simple sentence. He was nervous to speak.
"Don't you agree?" You teased once more, giving a silly little smile.
He grunted, pulling down his mask, hiding the blush that appeared on his cheeks, as well as the grin.
At that moment, he knew it was you.
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krossan · 4 months
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A Brief AU Explanation
I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.
This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.
Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.
On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.
Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.
This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.
And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.
With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).
***
Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy
This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:
This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.
All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.
***
Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.
And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.
Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.
They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.
No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.
 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)
This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.
______________
It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.
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divineecelestial · 11 months
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Pretty Girl — Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
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Summary — Eddie liked you. Really liked you. You hated him. Really hated him. He was a bully and mean, and you were too damn pretty for your own good. You're partnered together for a project and things are changing between you both.
Word Count — 1.4k
Warnings — somewhat bully!eddie (not really, but it's sort of there) perv!eddie, enemies to lovers (eventually) sub!eddie, virgin!eddie (not explicitly stated here, but eventually will be in the series) somewhat dom!reader. Public situations. Kind of dry humping? Both Eddie and Reader are above the age of 18.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
You flipped a page from the book you were required to read for the project, eyebrows pinched together with concentration and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes scanned over the paragraphs, occasionally widening and narrowing with whatever was happening on that particular page. He could see you were memorizing each message hidden beneath the passages, marking your notebook with a glitter pink pen. There wasn’t any possible way he was going to finish his portion of the project when he could smell the sweetness of your skin. His own notebook was forgotten, merely three sentences scribbled on the page before he was distracted by you. 
The smoothness of your thighs was peeking beneath the floral fabric of your dress, crossed and occasionally bouncing. When you weren’t writing your thoughts and answers, you brought the tip of your pen between your teeth, nibbling and lightly licking the plastic. He could feel the breath inside his lungs pulled out and his heart was moments from thumping through his chest and clothes. And, of course, his jeans tightened uncomfortably.
Your eyes slowly moved from the crinkled and yellow-stained pages of the book onto him. His fiery gaze remained etched on you as if he were engraving the spectacle before him within the confines of his mind. Lowering your book, you raised an eyebrow, inquisitive. He didn’t respond to the gesture. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. 
The dynamic between the both of you was complicated. Well, for you it was. For him, there wasn’t anything that could’ve been more simple. Since he was a kid, so for pretty much as long as he could remember, you were always there. You grew up with him. And you hated him. He pulled on the ribbons of your hair, stole your homework answers, and constantly teased you whenever he could. It didn’t matter what you did, he was always there with some snarky remarks. And he liked you. 
That’s how it started anyway.
Because when high school came, and the wave of teenage hormones as well, he didn’t just like you anymore. He was obsessed with you. He followed you around, stole your pom-poms, ruined your hair that you had spent forever doing, pulled your hair when he sat behind you and said every dirty thing that went through his head. He didn’t care if you were mean to him and called him names. Truth be told, he might’ve liked that more than he thought was possible. But you could’ve slapped and kicked him and he wouldn’t do a single thing other than thank you for touching him. He was whipped.
However, for you, things were complicated. That was an understatement. For as long as you could remember, you didn’t like him. Disliking him was easy and simple. You had been doing that for years. But things were changing and you couldn’t explain why. Well, that wasn’t the truth. You did know why. 
Two weeks ago, and you knew this because you couldn’t think of anything else other than that particular night. Your car wasn’t working and you weren’t even going to pretend to understand what was underneath the hood. The night was brimming with darkness and pouring rain and you were completely alone. You trudged to the nearest payphone, shivering beneath your sodden clothes, and called everyone you could think of. Not a single person answered. That was until you called the number Wayne had provided months ago when he suggested he could help with whatever car troubles you were having and not overcharge you. You just didn’t expect Eddie to answer. 
He was kind. The sickening kind of sweet you would find sprawled across romance novels. He called you the nicknames he had been calling you since you could remember, but it was different. He looked at you differently. Talked to you differently. Touched you differently. 
And now you were stuck with him as his partner. 
You were going to roll your eyes and resume with your book and disregard his existence as much as you could when you noticed it. There was absolutely no way of not noticing it. You glanced around, wondering if there was someone within the shadows of the empty library watching and observing. “Are you serious?” You sneered barely above a whisper. His amused eyes merely traveled to his hardening bulge. “Stop that.” 
“I can’t help it.” His voice was breathless, wisp-like. “You’re so pretty.” Your jaw clenched and your glare intensified. He brought his adorned hand onto his bulge and palmed himself. The movements were slow and deliberate, and because you were near the back of the library, there wasn’t anyone around to notice him. “If you keep looking at me like that, I can probably finish like this.” 
You were across from him, the only thing separating you from him was a small round table, and you were debating if you should kick the table at him. His eyes traveled across your body, not bothering to conceal his heavy gaze, and they stopped right where your skirt stopped. When you clenched her thighs together, he could barely see the baby-pink fabric of your underwear. His movements sputtered as he thought of crawling on the floor to you, worshiping you as he dreamed of doing. He groaned as his eyes closed, thinking of staining his lips with your arousal and kissing you until you couldn’t think of anything other than the taste of yourself mixed with him. “Yeah, I can definitely finish like this.”
Your nose scrunched as you watched his movements intently. “You’re a pervert.” Your voice, however, didn’t match your words. Because you couldn’t even understand the wetness dampening your underwear. You didn’t understand why you liked knowing you were the reason for his undoing and for his sick actions. You liked knowing he thought you were so pretty that he couldn’t wait until he got home. But you obviously couldn’t tell him that because you weren’t supposed to like any of that. You were supposed to hate him.
Yeah, things were complicated now.
You leaned closer, intentionally displaying a view of your breasts. “If you’re going to make yourself come, do it fast. We have a deadline.” Those words weren’t what he was expecting. You were tolerating him lately, even occasionally smiling before flipping him off. You were speaking to him without a bratty attitude and sitting next to him in class. He was slowly making progress. This wasn’t progress. This was hurdling over the finish line.
His gaze was ripped away from your breasts when you leaned back against your cushioned chair and he watched with sick enjoyment as you squeezed your thighs together. There was no way you were liking this. “Hurry. I don’t have all day.” Oh, God, you were really going to sit there and look pretty for him so he could come in his pants. You were letting him use you for his perversions. 
He nodded frantically, applying more pressure on his leaking cock. There was a stain soaking through his jeans and his hips were rutting against his hand, desperate for a wetness that couldn’t compare to his hand. Returning back to your book, you slowly spread your thighs open, allowing him a clear and picturesque view of your damp underwear. He couldn’t contain the pathetic whimper escaping his blushing lips. “You’re so pretty. So pretty. My pretty girl.”
He was mumbling, pussy-drunk from only the view of your clothed one. “Come on, let me see those pretty eyes.” Pretty, pretty, pretty. “Look at me when I come for you. Y-Yeah, just like that. That’s so good.” You teasingly looked away from your book and looked at him and you would’ve thought you handed a starving man a full-course meal from the way he crumbled beneath your gaze. “Fuck, you can’t be real.”
So, so, so pretty.
And then you smiled.
He moaned pathetically loud and you watched with twisted enjoyment as the stain on his crotch spread. Watching a man who’s tormented you for so long become undone simply from your gaze was empowering. Addicting even. He was breathless, shaking, and beads of sweat dampened his flushed skin. Bringing your leg back down and closing your book, you gathered your supplies and belongings and stood from the chair. You looked down at the embarrassingly large patch of cum seeping through his clothes and smiled. “I’ve gotta go. Same time tomorrow?”
Yeah, things were definitely different now.
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alastors-antlers · 3 months
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a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion
hello all!
I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:
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As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)
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I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.
To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)
Hear me out:
Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.
"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."
That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.
Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.
He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.
In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.
That's why he's smiling.
It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.
He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.
In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.
Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?
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niqhtlord01 · 2 months
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Humans are weird: They sing going to war
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.
Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.
We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.
During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.
I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.
They were singing.
The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.
I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.
All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.
They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.
The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.
To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.
Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.
I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.
Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.
I was beyond myself.
These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.
Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.
Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires, each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.
As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.
The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.
At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”
With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.
After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.
“Why do you sing in battle?”
The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.
“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”
“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”
“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.
“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.
“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”
“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”
“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”
“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”
“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.
“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”
“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”
The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”
I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.
The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.
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loveindefinitely · 4 months
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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader
02 — THE NIGHT WE MET
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
<- previous part | next part ->
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Turns out, as much as water is wet, Soap likes to talk.
“Bloody Shadows,” he grunts under his breath. You’d given him your knife, so he could help you take down the men searching the tunnels. Now, after killing one, he’s got a weapon not unlike your own. In one hand, he wipes off the bloody knife on his thigh and slides it into his belt, and in the other, he checks over the stolen gun.
The water soaks your calves, a cloud of blood and a body along with it floating behind you both. Taking another step forward, the water ripples, the weight of it pulling as you continue to move forward, Soap at your flank.
“Your men feckin’ suck at their jobs, lass,” your new companion hisses, low enough not to echo but loud enough to have you rolling your eyes.
“They’re not used to this kind of fighting. It’s not their fault.” You’re not exactly sure why you’re defending them, when you’re decidedly betraying your entire unit, but you feel obligated to anyway.
“Or you’re just a bad Lieutenant.”
You shoot him an annoyed glance. “Wrong. I’m not a Lieutenant, Sergeant.”
You knew of his title because of something Ghost had said earlier, his voice carrying loud enough through the earpiece in the quiet of the shops. It suited him, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, just as the smell of the sea felt like more of a home than any building you’d encountered.
Keeping your head forward, you miss the roll of Soap’s eyes, and the flexing of his hand around the knife at his waist.
“Sorry, Corporal,” he retorts, and you bristle.
“Colonel will do,” you snap back, quickening your pace but keeping your movements quiet as you spot the shadows of your men up ahead. Stretching your hand out, you encourage Soap to pause.
Soap scoffs. “Dinnae think you’re above me.”
You go to continue the petty argument, when –
“Graves has lost his fucking mind over his chick.” A Shadow says around the curved corner, and Soap stops as you do. You see a flash of red, their flashlight, up ahead, and pull Soap’s shirt to stand with you against the wall.
“How much do you bet she’s found out about another girl he’s got goin’ on the side?”
Your chest constricts, and your body feels as though it’s frozen in time. Soap’s hand comes up to remove your grip on his shirt, and you don’t make a single argument or movement against it.
“That, or she’s gone to find another superior to fuck,” the other replies.
Within one moment, and the next, you pull your knife back from the sheath on Soap’s belt, and take a massive, sweeping step to your right.
It’s not a second later that the knife has flung from your fist, and met the neck of one of the gossiping Shadows. Blood spurts out of his neck, and he quickly finds himself falling forwards onto his knees, and then effectively being pulled by the motion of the flood.
“What the –” The other starts, but in one click, you’ve pressed the silencer onto the end of your gun, flicked off the safety and shot a bullet into the back of his head.
Your hands do not tremble. You don’t even make a noise.
Soap does, though, just as the sun is set to rise.
“Christ, lass, that was clean,” he says under his breath, before letting out a low, impressed whistle. “Colonel it is.”
You don’t respond. Instead, you just put your knife back into its rightful spot in your vest, flip on the safety, and continue to wade down the tunnel.
The words of the two Shadows echo in your mind, like your very soul has been hollowed out for the sole purpose of being a cavern of mindless thoughts. You suppose that’s the way of life.
By the time the two of you reach the end juncture of the tunnel, Soap’s killed two more Shadows. You haven’t hurt any since the last few, but it’s a small mercy. You’re not exactly itching to murder your… previous subordinates.
Previous. Past.
Whatever.
“Ghost says the church is just to the right, ‘nd up the stairs,” Soap supplies as the two of you make it to the T-junction. Giving him a small nod, you turn right, finding the said stairs mere metres away.
“It’s going to be rough out there,” you warn with a short glance his way.
He chuckles a humoured sound, surprising you with its warmth. “Aye can handle rough, lass,” he teases, and you’ll forever be grateful for his positive outlook on the situation. Humour was good, when one was going through such… bullshittery.
“What’s the plan after we meet with Ghost?” You ask lowly as you start ascending the brick steps, the dripping of water a debilitating soundtrack. 
Soap is just a few steps behind you, his steps just slightly slower due to his injuries and general stress. “Eh, we’ll see. Ghost has probably got a rough idea already,” he admits. He seems to almost worship Ghost, although in a very different way to how you do – did – with Graves. “Lt for a reason, hen.”
“I’m not a chicken,” you snark back, hand resting at the dagger strapped onto your thigh. It’s a familiar habit.
Soap’s laugh, this time, comes out boisterous and almost shocked. It’s a loud, genuine thing, and you can’t find it in yourself to despise it. 
“Yer funny for a traitor,” he responds, and your stomach hollows out once more.
Traitor.
That single word – title – rings in your ears like the bombs you’ve set off in past missions. Like a tormenting, cruel ghoul, whispering taunts in your ear. Traitor. Traitor. Traitor.
You don’t reply as you make it to the inside of a house, the front door seeming to face exactly where the two of you needed to go. Pausing before it, you look to Soap once more, cocking your gun.
“Ready, Sergeant?” You ask, both for his sake, and your own. Your resolve is weak, trembling, almost, but there’s no going back now. Not after this.
Soap lets out his own exhale, before his deep blue eyes meet yours. “Aye, I’m ready.”
You turn.
And you open the door.
“Jesus fuck!” Soap yells out, and your focus is quickly split between his sudden words, and the hilt of a gun crashing into the side of your head.
Falling to the ground with a groan, a bloom of light taunts you in the corner of your shut eyes, your skull pounding with the sudden pain. Bringing a hand up to the source of your ache, you slowly blink your eyes open, watching as your fingers come away with sticky blood coating them.
“I found her! She’s with –” 
Looking up, your mouth falls open as a bullet lodges itself into the Shadow’s forehead, and he too, falls to the ground.
Except, unlike you, he would never get up again.
“Was that you, Lt?” Soap calls into his own comms, and he sounds nothing if not impressed. Rising to your knees, you manage to find your way back up to your feet, albeit with shaky movements.
Your vision is slightly skewed, and you feel somewhat out of it as you look outside, and spot the darkened streets once more.
Whatever Ghost responds with makes Soap laugh, but all you can focus on is that the church is so close. You guys could make it – no, you would make it.
And you would convince Graves to stop this, and to continue being the man you thought you knew.
You could fix everything.
“All good?” Soap asks you, then, appearing at your side like a trusted dog. You’re all too aware of how you must look – bewildered and bloody.
“What’re we waiting for?” Is your reply.
Turns out, a lot.
By the time the two of you make it to the steps of the church, there’s enough blood on your hands to make you think that it’ll never come off. Both figuratively, and physically.
“Johnny!” 
Breath stilted, head pounding and ears ringing, your weighted gaze sloppily meets that of Simon Riley’s.
You’d never met the guy, never seen him, either. And in person, he’s terrifying in a guttural, instinctual way. All dark-clothed bulk, skull mask dirtied and stark in the eery night. The sniper strapped to his back just adds to his whole image.
“Fuck, Ghost, you’re –” Soap begins, but a bullet just missing his ear has his words silenced.
“We gotta find a way outta here,” Ghost directs, and you nod instinctively. At the movement, his eyes zero-in on your frame – and they narrow. His hands clench around the smaller, more close-range gun in his hands, and his jaw tightens.
Right. You weren’t friends, and you could hardly be called acquaintances.
Enemies, first and foremost.
Swallowing, you flit your gaze back to Soap, inclining your head towards the multitude of vehicles along the street to your left.
“Come on, we’re sitting ducks here. Let’s find a car and go,” you yell over the sound of the harsh pattering of rain, thunder reverberating through your chest. Your eyes maintain a wincing position, hair completely wet and droplets dripping from your face and gear, mascara coating underneath your eyes, and you’re sure, your cheeks.
“The lass is right,” Soap shifts his attention from you to Ghost, “C’mon, Lt.”
Ghost waits another moment, and even with Soap looking at him, his focus remains solely on you. His gaze is hard, cold, full of hatred and distaste.
“Please,” he insists, tone gone pleading and almost desperate.
It’s all Ghost must need, it seems, because he shifts the weight of his gun between his hands once more with a direct nod. 
It’s not a moment later that more bullets are shot at the three of you, causing you to instantly find cover and press your back against it, quickly checking that your weapon is loaded. It is, thank the gods, and you quickly peek around the stall of which you’d used as cover and pop a few shots at some Shadows you see lining the streets. A few drop, and more yelling echoes throughout the town.
“There’s a truck with its lights on up ahead!” Ghost’s voice carries over the cacophony of sounds down the street, and you heave out a shaky breath. Turning just enough that you can search for the vehicle he’s talking about, your heart thumps in your chest as your eyes lock onto it.
You figure that the man must be further along the streets than you, so steeling your nerves, you stand up once more and raise your gun.
Soap and Ghost have already made a dent in the soldiers after the lot of you, but you find yourself lodging bullets into quite a few Shadows’ skulls anyways. To be on the other side like this, to kill your men, it’s a kind of pain you’d never even considered that you’d have to experience.
Your chest rises and falls at a concerning rate as you find the truck just a few feet away from you, Soap’s hand gripping the door to the passenger’s side, and Ghost jumping into the driver’s seat.
With one final pull of the trigger, you push Soap into the car, and rush into it right after him, pulling the door shut with an audible slam!
“Drive!” You quickly direct Ghost, pulling up your gun over the back of the seat and aiming it at the Shadows directing their sights to the three of you. “Before they kill us all!”
Ghost jerks, the glass of his window shattering as a bullet flies through, a searing pain bursting through the top of your right cheek. Cursing under your breath, you pull the trigger of your gun, Soap shooting his own at the same time.
With a burst of the accelerator, the truck goes rearing backwards, and your eyes go wide as you watch Ghost reverse into two Shadows, their bodies churning underneath the wheel.
“Fuckin’ hell, Lt!” Soap cries out, and just as he does, Ghost quickly manoeuvres the vehicle into drive. He’s quick about it, and you flinch as he crashes through the wired gate that had previously blocked off the street, the truck lurching with the movement.
With tight swerves, and a few more bullets shot from your guns, both you and Soap finally loosen your postures as you lose the couple of Shadows left behind.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale a deep, meaningful breath.
“You good, hen?”
Blinking away the blurriness of your vision, you jolt when Soap’s hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing the spot where the pain originates on your cheek. Letting out a small hiss, he immediately pulls away.
“Just a graze, I think,” you bite out, bringing your own shaky fingers to the wound. You can feel where the blood drips from it, along with the blood from your forehead.
“I found some cloth,” Soap pulls out said object, handing you a decently clean strip of tawny fabric. “Will it do?”
With a sharp nod, you take the fabric from his grip, righting yourself to face him properly. Looking down, you unzip one of the compartments on your vest, taking out a small first aid kit.
Soap lets out a low, impressed whistle. “Didn’t realise ye were a medic, lass.”
Despite yourself, and your situation, you can’t help the small tilt of your lips. “I’m a medical professional. Just chose to take lives, rather than save ‘em.”
“Well, ye saved mine today.”
Looking up from where you scavenge through the small kit, your eyes meet his. They’re so blue, and they shine beneath the night lights of Las Almas. Even with his wound, they seem so positive, so joyful and kind.
“And you saved my humanity,” you admit. It’s true, of course – if not for you crashing into him, you had no idea where you’d be right now.
Ghost clears his throat, and you quickly focus back in on your supplies, scurrying through them for the necessary items.
Pulling out a pair of medical scissors, and some cleaning alcohol, you wave for Soap to pull up his sleeve and give you his arm. He does, swearing under his breath as some of the crusted blood pulls away with the fabric of his shirt. His arm is nothing if not muscled, and if it were any other circumstance, any other man, you’d allow yourself a moment to appreciate such pure masculinity.
But this is an enemy, and this is a bullet wound.
“This’ll hurt,” you murmur, checking over the small alcohol bottle in your hand, before looking through the medkit once more. “And you’ve lost a lot of blood. Here.”
Reaching for a small piece of candy, you drop it into his open palm.
His eyes flicker from yours, to the small wrapper in his large hand. He seems to inspect it, for a moment, before his mouth twists into a mocking smirk.
“Sweethearts, aye?”
You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning for reasons other than your wound as you twist off the cap of the bottle in your hands. If you notice Ghost’s attention flit from the road ahead to the two of you, you don’t say a word.
“You need to get your sugars up. It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now,” you explain, refusing to look up at him. “Have one now, this’ll sting.”
He huffs, but undoes the wrapping and pops one of the lollies into his mouth. He hums.
With one hand on his shoulder, you bring up the bottle and drop some of the liquid onto the wound, flushing out any bacteria or infections. Hopefully.
“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap groans out, teeth clenched and jaw straining as his eyes flutter shut.
“Be careful,” Ghost warns, worry and threat bundled into the two words like a second skin. If you were one to be intimidated, you would take the sentiment seriously, but all you can focus on is the obvious care for his companion.
Very odd, indeed.
“How’s the candy?” You ask, grabbing a sterilising wipe and cleaning up around the wound. Luckily, the bullet had exited – there wouldn’t be a need to go digging in there. That also meant that you had to clean the other side of his arm, however.
Soap’s chuckle comes out strained, but it’s better than silence.
“Delicious, sweetheart.”
You pause your movements, briefly, your chest tightening at the mocking endearment.
“Sweetheart?” You repeat back, your tone a question, before you continue to clean his wounds, albeit with more stilted movements.
“The lollies,” Ghost supplies, and you can’t help but think that he either thinks you’re dumb, or just generally despises you.
Maybe both.
…Definitely both.
“Yer jus’ so sweet, lass,” Soap taunts, before letting out a sound akin to a whimper when you swipe the wipe a bit too close to his wound.
“My bad,” your smile is sickeningly sweet, your tone light and innocent.
Soap’s jaw sets, but silence fills the truck as you make sure that the cloth will properly fit around the wound, getting out a safety pin to keep it around his arm.
It takes a few minutes for you to wrap the makeshift gauze around his skin, the groans of pain from him few and far between. Despite everything, you were a good medic. You’d been trained well, and you had the cadence for it.
Usually.
Fastening the clip through the cloth, you fix it up so it looks presentable enough, and successful for its job.
“All done,” you say softly, hesitant to speak up in the silence of the space.
You go to pack up your supplies, before a hand reaches out and wraps around your wrist, stopping your movements.
Flicking your gaze up to Soap’s, you go to open your mouth to say something, but find yourself at a loss for words. Your eyebrows furrow, and he seems to sense your confusion, because –
“Yer wounds,” he blurts out, wincing at the suddenness of his proposal. “...Yer wounded. Too.”
You can’t stop a shocked, sharp laugh leaving your lips.  “I’m very aware of that, yes. Brilliant observation, Sherlock.”
“Let him speak,” Ghost grits out, and Soap’s grip tightens around your wrist. The smell of blood and gunpowder is potent in the night, but you find yourself at ease with the somewhat familiar scent. What’s throwing you off is the sudden add-on of their cologne – somehow, someway, you can smell it. Whether it’s military-duty, or it’s ingrained into their very bones, you haven’t a clue.
You could slap yourself for noticing, for being curious at all.
They smell oddly like cedarwood and musk.
“Let me fix ye up,” Soap supplies, and you can’t do anything but oblige.
Handing him the first aid kit, your fingers brush, and it really, really shouldn’t mean a thing. For the gods’ sake, you’d had your hands all over his upper arm just mere moments ago.
But there’s a spark.
Like a universal truth, maybe. Like a sensation of sudden purpose, as if all this time, all of your life, had led up to this very moment. To this very person.
You pull away sharply, and Soap doesn’t comment on it.
You’ll forever be grateful for that.
“This’ll hurt,” Soap chides, mocking your voice. You fight the urge to slap that smug grin off of his face.
You notice Ghost’s uneasy grip on the steering wheel as he cruises through the city, taking odd turns and slightly too risky manoeuvres. His focus is designated directly to his task, only occasionally checking on Soap.
Fingers underneath your chin force you to look to the Scot at your side, his movement gentle but fingers calloused and weathered. It’s an impossible dichotomy, but one you find yourself relaxing into anyways; the kind of impossible that one starts to think of as home.
Yet, your home is far from here.
Your home is in Graves’ quarters. At the Shadows’ base. 
It’s difficult to suppress the groan when Soap brushes the alcohol wipe against your cheek, but biting down on your lower lip does the job. If anything, it makes you focus on the sharp pain of that, rather than the graze on your cheek.
The trick lasts a few minutes, before Ghost goes over a particularly rough bump, causing the wipe to dig into your open wound. Your head falls forward, a soft grunt falling from your lips at the burst of pain.
“Aye, lass, ‘s alright,” Soap soothes, but it does little for your growing embarrassment. 
You shoot your glare his way, settling back further into your seat. “Thanks, but that’s enough for now.”
Soap’s expression betrays his inner turmoil, but you turn, looking out of the window. 
The darkness and rain battle along the forested roads, and it’s only now that you realise you’ve left the city. And, also, that you have no idea what’s happening, or where the fuck you’re even going.
“What’s the plan?” You ask steadily, falsifying your growing apprehension.
“A safehouse,” Ghost grunts the reply, and you already know that that’s all you’re going to get from him for now. Letting out a small huff, you fold your arms over your chest, resolutely not looking at Soap.
If you did, you’d see him personifying a kicked puppy.
Silence falls, once again, over the three of you. It allows for you to think, both over the storm brewing both outside, and in your head. 
You weren’t sure how long it would take Graves to realise that you betrayed him, if he would believe it at all. Somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him to say that this is all an elaborate kidnapping, but you figure he must have bigger problems to deal with than you going missing right now.
Then, there was the issue of alliances. Ghost hadn’t exactly agreed to working with you, and he definitely showed no signs of being anything but cold towards you. And, even then, could you really kill your – whatever Graves was – if it came down to it?
And what was to happen next? After everything was said and done? Would the 141 allow you to work with them?
Would you want to?
“We’re here.”
Pulling the handbrake, the truck stops, and you see that Ghost has pulled up outside a safehouse of some sort, in the outskirts of Las Almas.
You go to get out, but you realise that your door’s remained locked – and when you turn to question Ghost, you soon gather that it’s a purposeful move.
Ghost’s eyes narrow on you, calculating and assessing, before he says, voice like a gunshot in the quiet of the night –
“Give me a reason not to kill you right now, 'nd we might let you live.”
You swallow around the desert that your mouth’s become, and with shaky words, you respond.
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a/n. first post of 2024!! i hope everyone enjoys, and if u did, please comment, reblog and follow!! mwah mwah
taglist. @lilpothoscuttings @jng-yuan @iruzias
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tarjapearce · 12 days
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Heathens (Pt. 2)
Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun! Reader
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Art by @mar_mar0u in X
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Religious topics, Corruption Kink, Oral in holy places (Male receiving) Fingering, implicit Breeding kink, Angst, violence (Whipping, and other physical injuries) Character background, sexual and mutual pining, power dynamics, not proofread.
Summary: Father Miguel is growing tired of his beatific life.
A|N : reblogs and feedback fuel me :'). Thanks in advance.
Previous Spanish Version
Miguel tried, tried with all his might to fool himself. It was one of those things he excelled at like no other.
The war won't reach us.
He'd always mumble to his coworkers back at the machinery factory. A place he was designated after failing thr recruitment's medical tests. On purpose.
He faked his eye sight terrible and a slurred speech enough for the doctors to deem him a failing specimen that wouldn't last for more than days, in a war that had brought nothing but calamit to everyone involved.
People barely spoke to him at the factory, which played off perfect. He did his job, none bothered him except for reaching things too far of reach, and he got home safe.
A lanky man that slowly but surely developed his brawns within the heavy duty line. His job was to fix and assemble motors that would end up in cars, planes, ships and whatever medium used to destroy the enemy.
Part of Nueva York was already destroyed. The echelons in society blurred to the point of subduing everyone under the same category in the neighbor states. Refugees.
The church played an important part as they took as many as they could under their beatific walls.
Miguel wasn't a devote believer, but respected the business enough to help whenever they required it in his little town. Anyone who helped others in need had his respect.
If the church needed a new roof to harbor in more refugees, he and other men would make it. The innate feeling of helping and guiding others was something the Church's Father always complimented.
He explained Miguel what would he do in case he turned himself to God and follow a path of holy life. But no matter how much the Father spoke, his ties to the world and it's pleasures were too much to give up.
Miguel had all the qualities of being the perfect Father, but how could he consider such thing when the woman underneath him, writhed while clawing at his back, and begged the heavens above for him to not stop? Begged him to plow harder within her drenched and spasming walls over and over?
A Father would never do that. He didn't care if he was called basic for wanting sex. He didn't care if he was called greedy for wanting a nice car and a little property in a secluded area in the outskirts of Roeville.
And he definitely didn't care if he was called thoughtless for wanting a little family in the admist of chaos. Someone to get home to. Cause again, a Church's father would never. They could never do such things. If anything, he'd fulfill the lord's command of multiplying one day.
He was more than happy as he was, living a relatively innocuous life.
The war won't reach us.
A lie he fed himself to the point of turning it into his personal mantra. And when none else that those three words came into the town, in the shape of armored rebels, destroying everything he had worked for so hard, Miguel knew a decision needed to be done.
He took the remaining survivors out and guided them away from cruel eyes that wouldn't doubt into recruiting them into their madness.
He might have escaped the elite pass to a major scale war, but he often forgot about the opposition. The opportunists that would gain power in the right hands of ignorant and bloodthirsty people.
The rebels had gone town to town, forcefully recruiting men to join their barracks, to fight against a new order that promised nothing but their rights removed.
Miguel didn't want to know shit about it.  He didn't want to partake in a war he didn't start. He didn't want to leave the commodities life had served him so far. In fact, as he guided the people through the frozen river, he begged his neglected friend above to allow him to keep a rather easy life.
But rebels caught up to him, killing those that dared to run away, gaining the immediate end for treason to a cause they've never pledged for. A bullet ricocheted on the six year old boy propped on his shoulders, falling immediately to the glacial waters.
Miguel didn't doubt and pulled the kid out, despite feeling his bones freezing and numbing, and hauled him to the ground. If blood loss didn't kill him, hypothermia would. There was little he could do but offer the child a few words of consolation as he held his feeble and trembling form, drowning in tears; feeling the short life escaping warmly through his fingers.
Shouting, screaming and a couple of shots was all he could discern before an armored man pulled him by the collar, making him drop the boy's body to the ground and kneel. The tip of the man's weapon rested a bit too intimate on his head.
"P-Por favor!" (Please)
Miguel mumbled in between nervous pants snd clattering teeth as his hands rose in defense.
The man interrogated him, in spanish. Where was he from, where were the rest and what did he do. And like an epiphany, his mouth spilled the words not even in his wildest dreams he thought pronouncing.
"Soy... Soy un Padre, de la Parroquia San Buenaventura. Sólo vine a ayudar." (I'm a Father, from San Buenaventura's Parish. I came here to help.)
Said parish had been visited during his childhood and possibly long forgotten and non-existant by now, everything he knew about holy endeavours was thanks to his reluctant catholic upbringing. And it was enough to prolonging his stay in this realm.
"Porqué huiste entonces?" (Why did you run away then?)
"No quiero morir." (I don't wanna die.)
The man scrutinized his soul, but the words had came out his plump mouth with such conviction, it left no room for doubtsto those that wouldn't hesitate in shooting at the minimum sign of lying.
Miguel could be one of those people that could say undoubtedly God has a dark sense of humor. Cause none other than the leader asked him to bless him and his weapons to then take the reduced and mourning group to the nearest church.
And now, almost a decade and holy studies later, he preached the mass to people in town. Donned with the holy robes that would screech with condemning words if people ever knew what crossed his mind every time he laid his eyes on you.
His little lamb. His ever delicious little lamb, awaiting to be corrupted by none other than the wolf himself.
Cause that night, back at his den, corruption had ruled over both of your minds. Not only he had shown you what pleasure was and how you could achieve it on your own, but promised more.
More of him exploring places of your body none had the blessing of doing so before. More of him tasting those areas you only though of a single purpose, but his tongue had proven multi-task. More of that debauchery ritual where you'd finally be his.
With a heavy heart and little words beyond see you soon, you left to your duties, back to the reality. Leaving him alone with a painful and raging boner. Screaming for him to not neglect it that way ever again.
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And he tried. By God he was trying to not pull you to a nearby storage room and taste you again. His whole body turned into this needy mass of nerves whenever you stared his way a second too long.
The remaining innocence in you, edged him into fisting his hand around himself and pump into oblivion at night before sleeping. His mind took a recent knack for torturing him.
It reminded him of the first months into his chastity vows, and how close he was into breaking them with a woman that was beyond willing to satisfy her own curiosity regarding priests, but war, his cruel friend; acted as the main motivator to remain within line, since it still waged outside and men were still needed outside to die.
And no matter how many gorgeous women paraded under his radar, his vows remained intact.
Until you showed up, drenched in his door, in dire need of help. Not only had you shaken every promise he was trained to believe, to their very core. But ebbed him to his old sinful ways.
The wolf's pelt was growing too large within the sheep's robe he had disguised himself with, in order to run from a fate that was nothing more than a premature death.
The parishioner's voice snapped him out of his darkening thoughts, he dictated a penance and an absolution prayer, not really caring for the man's sins, cause he was worse. He closed the confessional window and stood to open the door.
Only to find the reason of his impure thoughts before him, sitting on the floor, polishing the altar's candle-snuffer.
His dark pupils were blown wide as your hands stroked with gentle moves the handle. How such mundane task turned his gears for the wrong turn was the proof of your power over him.
His groin twitched when your hand circled around the brass bar and moved up and down the rag to remove as much dust as possible, pumping softly.
"Sister."
His voice came out in a husky mumble he tried to keep in his usual deep tinge. But his composure cracked as soon as you turned around and stared back with those beautiful doe eyes of yours.
He gulped.
"What are you doing, pequeña?"
"Sister Leanne sent me to polish the altar's tool as a punishment for the missing vegetables in the inventory."
You mumbled between nervous laughs. And he chuckled. Of course Sister Leanne would do that. As gentle as the woman was, she didn't hesitate into applying discipline the way she saw fit.
She needed to set an example, even more when she was about to be ascended to Mother Superior or Abess.
"I apologize."
"Whatever for, Father?
"I can't deny part of it it's my fault. As I lead you astray from your original tasks."
A flush crept on your cheeks as soon as your mind flooded with the remnants of that night.
"It was the rain, Father. Not you."
"I thought I told you to not call me that when alone."
"I'm sorry. Some habits are hard to kill."
"And remove."
You swallowed a thick lump. His eyes were already undressing you with his red-ish gleam.
"I... started to wear less layers."
May God have mercy on his soul, cause his need gnawing at his flesh certainly wasn't having it. His chest puffed with a deep inhale
"You were right about them. They're... They're heavy to wear. Makes it impractical for almost everything."
He nodded knowingly as an idea popped in his already tainted and corrupted mind.
"That's true. Robes makes it heavier and slows you down."
"I thought the cassock was lightweight? "
He shook his head and offered you his hand for you to stand up. A hidden invitation to his wicked game. You took it.
"It is when done with the proper materials. Otherwise is heavy." He led you inside the confessional. And closed the door as soon as you were in. Cornering you against the hefty oak doors.
Your breath hitched as soon as his hands placed yours on his chest. A pleased purr rumbled through upon the contact.
"Heavy isn't it?" You nodded while feeling the smooth and thick fibers of cotton, stretching all over his chest underneath your fingertips.
"That's why I don't use layers underneath."
Heat begun pooling in the pit of your stomach, "You don't?
He didn't have to instruct you verbally to confirm such thing. His eyes guided your hands through the map of his body to finally stop inches above his tightened crotch.
His heart crinkled with utter delight upon seeing your eyes widen and blink while admiring him. Hardening even further at every second you weren't touching him.
"It's alright. Don't be ashamed. Knowing one's body is crucial to identify where some sins come from."
He sat at the chair, his throne, with his legs sprawled, the cassock tightened around his well sculpted and worked legs, tightening enough to outline the silhouette of his awakening cock.
The confessional was custom built, and given his height, two people could fit in. And what better use for it than having you inside with him. Trapped between his neverending legs.
"Would you know what to name a man's anatomy, pequeña?"
He removed the fabric belt around his waist to then unbutton the lower part of the cassock. Revealing a set of lighter pants, trapping his erection underneath.
Your eyes shamelessly remained on the happy trail leading to the growing bulge between his legs. Curiosity was definitely taking a choke hold on your brain. Although built big enough for two people average sized, you had to crawl closer between him.
"I believe it's called a... c-cock."
"A cock, yes." He nodded proudly, "And how would you know such thing, Hm?"
He beckoned you closer, holding your chin gently while at it.
"T-There's an anatomy book well hidden in the library. I don't wish to remain completely ignorant to my surroundings, Father."
"Ah, I see." He let the father calling go for this time, cause the surprise in your face was everything a man could get when about to perform one of the most lascivious of acts.
He took himself out, letting his erection to sprung in it's full glory before you.
"Does it looks like the one in the book?"
You shook your head softly. His flushed and engorged tip, twitched upon feeling your breath oh so close to his velvet skin.
"At all."
The rich fragrance of clean soap and woody incense remained in his skin.
"You're allowed to touch."
With a new gulp on your throat and hesitating hands, your fingertips grazed  his tip. Earning a little hiss from him. Finally feeling other textures that wasn't his calloused hands.
Curiosity made you take him firmer around the base, his hands enveloped yours and guided you to stroke him, up and down.
Your cheeks flushed even deeper while watching his face contorting in pure bliss. It reminded you the way he looked at you as he was devouring your now tingling flesh.
"Does it feels good?"
He nodded through hazed eyes, urging you to move your hand faster with his own, setting a tortuous tempo.
"Oh, very. Very good." he nodded and panted breathlessly, nails clawing at the cushioned part of his seat.
"Then... why is a sin?"
As much as he wanted to quench your learning thirst and instruct you through it, he couldn't care less about what was a sin and what not. But he could satisfy said interest with a more practical example.
"Open your mouth." He talked as he took his hefty cock and beckoned impossibly closer.
Your clothed chest rested inches away from his inner thighs. Lips parted open and when his tip rubbed between your lips, your tongue moved on its own and swirled on his slit. Earning a shaky whimper from him.
"Dios..." His head was thrown back as you took his whole tip inside. The warmth your lush mouth offered couldn't be compared. His hips bucked and you groaned when another inch was pushed in.
"Keep going, pequeña." He husked as he slid a hand underneath your headdress and took a gentle hold of your nape. With enough pressure he guided you up and down pushing as much cock as he could into your mouth, withdrawing carefully whenever you gagged.
The soft saltine taste bursted all over your taste buds, singing in delight. You were tasting a man. The proper way. You hummed approvingly.
Once more he took himself by the base and slapped your awaiting tongue a couple of times with his tip before pushing in  again.
His shaky groans turned into deep and raged pants the more your cheeks hollowed around him, licking and sucking in a pace that had him thrusting his hips softly and melting. His hands didn't know whether to claw or hold on whatever surface they had underneath.
The wet and sloshing noises from your mouth made him dizzy, and your hand squeezing his balls gently wasn't helping. Seeing your eyes filled with the same unmarred lust as his, corroded any rational and holy thought our of his frying brain.
You were dangerous. Oh, so dangerous he could mistake you for the very snake that temped Eve back in Eden, cause your tongue swirled and tasted in the right places like no other, despite being your first time.
And by God, he knew you weren't made for a holy life. You couldn't. He refused to believe you were made for such simple and boring life when you were sucking his demons out with such artistry, he couldn't feel but jealous at the sudden thought of someone else teaching you such things.
No woman had achieved such feat on him before by using solely her mouth.
"Sigue, por favor-" He gulped and bit his lip before a loud moan could escape him. His eyes tried to keep on front watching you, bobbing your head up and down. (Keep it going)
If your mouth was delicious, he couldn't help but wonder, how your insides felt.
Would you be drenched? Would you be tight for him? Would you take him as well as your mouth did? Of course you would. You were using your mouth only and left him yearning for more than that.
His teeth bared as his pants turned even more raged and blown. The soft kisses alternated between kitten kicks and unabashed lapping, bending not only his will, but the urge to hold you in place and have fun with your mouth.
The sight of you being bold and taking him in a go completely, made him explode with an acute, shaking and broken whimper.
"Mnnfuck-" He held you in place while he squeezed the very last drop of his hot cum down your throat. All while you looked at him with drunk, pleasurable eyes as you swallowed him.
His chest heaved and his hand rubbed over his face, awash with raw need. But you didn't stop there.
A low humming rumbled through, reverberating through his skin. Sending another wave of jolts down his spine. His head was spinning a second per hour
"W-Wait..." but you didn't listen, you kept tasting and his teeth clenched, "E-Esperate-" He blabbed and choked, his trembling hand took a firm hold of your headdress and pulled his limping cock out your mouth with a squelching pop.
But your tongue sought him, hungry and hypnotised by his taste.
"Stop- Oh Dios... S... Stop-" you whined as he hunched and rested his forehead against yours, putting his throbbing cock back to it's confinements. His breath fanned over your mouth and kissed you deeply. Drowning any furtive and remaining moans.
His tongue swirled over yours, luring it only for a mischievous suck to be delivered, tasting himself in the process.
"Please" You clung to him, body doused with fire, and his nose heaved deeply, still recovering from what you provoked within. His eyes remained shut for a second, to then seizing you with a tender look.
"Not yet, pequeña."
"Not yet. Then, when?!" You whined impatiently, "If you don't want me anymore just say it!"
He understood your frustration, he really did. With gentle hands he cupped your face.
"I do want you." He pecked your lips, "More than this pretty head of yours refuses to believe. But we must wait."
"I don't want to!" You sniffed and he kissed your head once again, soothing your frustration with feathery kisses. Then he stood and picked you up easily in his arms to finally sit you on his chair.
"If I am to claim you, is cause I'm taking my time to destroy every bit of your mind, understand?"
His hands immediately stirred up the skirt of your habit up to your waist, proving your words true of you wearing less layers, leaving your thighs and cunt bare to him as they were parted and placed on each side of the chair's arms.
With a serpent-like motion, he swept his tongue over his lips, awash with prurience when his gaze remained in your drenched entrance. Drooling and glistening, begging to be taken.
There was something he couldn't truly explain when he had you like that. It played too many good tricks in his dazed mind.
As much as he wanted to bury himself to the hilt, he couldn't. He didn't want you to be marked by a whip and shunned before the whole church as a heathen.
He didn't want you to bear with Cain's mark and be despised by the whole community just cause you gave into a natural need.
Two of his fingers coated in your slick, to then rub ever gently at your needy and throbbing nub of nerves. Gaining him a soft coo.
"I need to take my time to posses every bit of you, dear."
Your mouth gaped and whimpered as he slid inside with a sloshing fwop. Walls immediately etched to his fingers, squeezing him and urging to go deeper.
"You think I don't want to take you right here? " He kissed your lips and then your jaw
His thumb rubbed in slow but firm strokes, applying enough pressure to have you a blabbing mess and tidal waves of pleasure quenching your body's primal need.
His fingers hooking and wriggling inside only earned him a renewed groan. Your hands clutched at the surface behind you, as his fingers delved deeper, meaner and faster. Your frame shook with every stroke he delivered in your weeping walls.
He had to cover your mouth at the lewdness spilling out nonstop of it, to focus on the increasing wetness he provoked in your slurping hole.
A shaky whimper was muffled the more he pumped his fingers into you, grazing that sweet and exquisite spot that got your body trembling and your walls contracting around him in a wicked and debauched symphony. Your head was thrown back, too heavy with lascivious thoughts to function properly.
Mouth parted to whine and eyes remained shut, unable to digest the obscene display of prowess by his fingers. Your tightness increased by every second, signaling your need for release.
"Come"
An order. Disobeying was out of the question. A specific thrust had your spine arching and your soaked hole exploding with something so devastatingly delicious, it had you panting and mewling in heat as you drenched Miguel's hand and forearm completely, he kept prodding and poking at that gummy spot within you. Your nails clawed at the seat, trying to anchor your floating soul to your body.
"Oh my God!" You hiccuped in a garbled moan.
His palm kept your stuttering hips under control, his eyes remained at the spasming muscles within you, trying to keep his fingers inside, sucking, squeezing and milking him.
"Tan perfecta." He crooned while pulling out gently to lick and slurp his fingers clean and kiss you with all his might . (So perfect)
Too enraptured in your taste to hear the approaching steps until too late.
"Father O'Hara?"
The voice from the other side of the wall made both to freeze in place. Your eyes went wide and his grip on your panting mouth tightened.
"Are you there?"
Miguel placed a drenched finger in his lips.
Closing your eyes shut, you both awaited for whoever that had arrived to leave, and once the steps could no longer be heard, he released you.
And you gasped and panted for air and he smirked. Admiring with wickedness at his creation. He could already taste your little cries and whimpers for more of him. And damn him if he was lying if his mind didn't come up with the vilest of fantasies, like defiling you in the altar, at everyone's sight, so they could know the real him and show everyone he had claimed you and what they were missing.
He helped you on your feet and wipe away the thin layer of sweat covering your face with utmost care.
But that side was reserved to none else but you. His beloved lamb.
"Soon, I promise. Okay?"
He kissed your lips deeply, sealing his words with a promise. He was a man of word.
You'd have to wait a bit longer.
----
The dull ache in your lower belly announced your period's arrival. Asking the head of the medical supplies and writing your name in a book was a subtle way to keep the youngsters and  women in fertile age in check.
Given the few past experiences with nuns suddenly getting pregnant, security when it came to outings increased. Same for the Parish. Another guard was hired to keep the morning shift in case men came to lurk around.
The parish had a reputation to have beautiful nuns under the roof, even if older.
But since you had your period, no harm approached. You could see a little proud smile in Sister Danielle as you fetched your supplies for the week. Teas, pads, some painkillers and a brand new addition, moist towelettes from the city.
"If you run out of them, come again, alright?"
With a nod, you went to the bathroom and changed. You washed your hands and walked back to where Sister Leanne was, to tell her about your condition.
Cause in truth, you felt tired, pained and exhausted. Your face lit up upon seeing her.
"May we speak?"
"Not now. Discipline calls me."
Quirking a brow you looked at her while watching a trail of nuns behind her. One with a slender guava stick, another with a bucket in water, and the other with a rope.
"W-What's going on?"
"Come and see."
You weren't the only one that followed them. A group of nuns giggled, as they whispered hushed secrets to eachother.
Your fingers wrapped around your cross while following the rest, like a dutiful sheep.
To your surprise another nun was held as her sleeve was slit open, on both arms. The woman cried for mercy and soon she was pushed forward before the circle of nuns and Miguel that showed up alarmed.
"You have sinned!"
Sister Leanne begun with a commanding voice. even though Miguel was the Father, he had little to do with the nun's management.
Your mother figure pulled the crying woman's arm, showing a bruising a couple of inches away from her elbow.
"This woman has corrupted her body, the temple of Jesus Christ! With contraceptives!"
A collective round of gasps were heard through the nuns. Contraceptives, same as sex were the highest forms of faults within the Parish. Specially within the convent.
"Not only you poison your body with mundane pieces, but break your vows, just to obey your flesh's whims." Leanne spat with venom.
The poor woman was tied up against a post. Her habit was torn in the back, to expose her temporary unmarred, milky white skin. She begged for forgiveness as water was doused over her.
The first hit made you look away and cover your mouth, a sudden fear rose in the back of your throat.
His need of waiting was more than reasonable now.
This was one the motives why Miguel hadn't taken you yet. And seeing the poor woman writhe in pain and beg for her life, made you remind him of his words.
You had been so neck deep in wanting him that had forgotten completely about the consequences of your forbidden meetings.
The women's cries and pleas were muffled by the aggressive whistle the stick did everytime it swung to strike down and mark her over and over.
Your gaze locked with Miguel's briefly. His eyes said it all.
Now you understand?
As quickly as your eyes met him, you tore your gaze away. Too afraid of the possible lash out for simply looking at him.
A surge of cramps and the newly reached levels of stress had you folding over. His face fell upon the pain in yours. The supplies in your hands were self explanatory. Periods weren't something new to him, after all he took care of the women under his unit in the factory cause the rest was too stupid and scared to do something.
And as much as he wanted to approach and see if you were alright, he didn't want the situation to be mistaken for something else and draw unnecessary attention towards you both.
He felt a coward, but it also fueled his hate for the life he chose in order to save himself.
Once the punishment was finished, the woman was untied and taken to the infirmary. Sister Leanne looked at you
"What is you wanted to talk to me about?"
"My period."
"What about it?" Her voice accused with a frown, still on edge.
"I just asked Sister Danielle for my supplies." She heaved, relieved.
"Good. Good." She sighed and rubbed her face, "I want you to know that I'm not proud of the things I must do. But someone has to."
"I know."
"Please don't ever dare to betray me that way, okay?"
The stung in your chest just bloomed deeper with guiltiness.
What if I'm already doing it?
You nodded, gaining a hug from the woman that raised you, in order to ground herself from the sudden rage that took over her emotional panel of control.
Would you whip me too? Would you make me bleed?
"Go rest. I'll get you some food, alright?"
---
It had been days since either of you approached each other. The raw display of consequences of a failed secret affair was the culprit of the distance that grew wider and wider between the both.
It was a forceful reminder of what laid ahead if you ever got caught. Miguel knew how much the new Mother Superior loved you.
He always heard at dinner with the higher ranks the endless stories about you as a teenager. Precocious and daring. Nothing alike to the tame and demure woman he had already tasted twice.
Would she hate him for corrupting her little and perfect sheep? Absolutely. Maybe would whip him too if she could.
The thought alone made him chuckle.
The silence on both ends made him reflect in so many things he thought long forgotten.
A child's random laugh during a baptizing had brought to life that buried yearn. The way the little human stared at him with a toothless grin on their face sent his heart into a frenzy.
In fact, he always reminisced in the many families that paraded proudly on church. Displaying their affection, laughs and others that only echoed in the solitude of his residence outside the Parish.
There was none waiting for him, no little human screeching in happiness upon hid arrival, and no partner to share his daily adventures on his modest job. There wasn't nothing like that for him.
Just endless hours of praying, visiting the sick, bible studies, hypocritical speeches on how people act and behave with those around him and how to not succumb into the temptation, like he did.
He was the biggest hypocrite under the heavenly roof and everyone adored him. Congratulated and asked for tips on how to be more like him.
If he could, he'd say drink a beer every day and fuck a lovely woman whenever time allowed. But instead his mouth spilled the most ridiculous things such as keep your mind focused and away from trouble.
But he wanted trouble. He wanted that trouble to mewl and writhe underneath. He wanted that trouble to squeeze him to death as he came inside. And definitely he wanted that trouble to swell with his child.
Ten years in this lie had been more than enough for him. War had been long gone, everyone had moved on in the city. Mostly had families. But he...
His hand pinched the bridge of his nose.
Secularisation wasn't an option, since his name was already in many churches and abbeys and running away would imply to spend most of the savings he had done so far. Priest life paid shit, but if this neverending lie had taught him something, was to be more financially wise. And thanks to that, he could afford a home somewhere in the rural areas, away from prying eyes and judging glares.
He had enough of the white rectangle around his neck and the stupid golden ring on his finger dictating how to live his life. Even though God had granted him his wish of having a simple life, he didn't want it anymore.
He wanted it his way. And as entitled and selfish as the thought was, he deserved a forever break from his duties. He knew what he wanted.
He knew what he needed. And he needed you. He missed you. He wanted you to be his problem.
At first he thought it was the lack of contact and other people to talk to, but seeing you so scared back at the public whipping and your need to know more about the world, only reinforced his decision into making you his.
He could take you see places and explain things if you wanted. He could take you anywhere you wanted to. He could please you the times he saw fit without the fear of someone spying or you getting hurt by those that pledged a servitude oath.
Miguel knew what the nuns did to those that ended up pregnant and he wanted you safe. He had seen the underlying longing of knowledge in your eyes and see what was beyond those sacred walls.
Her period
His brain soared alive with the idea.
How many days had gone since you got it? Twelve days?
And if there was something he knew by heart is a woman's cycle. Ironically he used that knowledge to avoid getting his hookups pregnant, even if he used a condom. And now, he was using it for the opposite.
In two days you'd be ovulating. And you had returned early from a sudden trip due to sickness.
He didn't know if to thank God or his luck for such delicious coincidence.
But what if she decides to stay?
No. You wouldn't. You couldn't be so blind to do such thing. His plan was foolproof.
With the gears turning, he set his plan into motion.
----
Taglist:
@tango-juice @miaasmf @migueloharastruelove @slight-darkness @zombiesurf @oharasfilipinawife @thedevax @eepiebeepie @vsplanet @smartyren @m4dyy @keenspeachy @deputy-videogamer @the-colourfull-bean @killjoy-nightshadow @whos-writing-stuff @tomalymme @x0tw0d57 @huniedeux @ange-grayson @cubecube555 @riuichiii @plumplum2099
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janovavalen · 3 months
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Hi can you write a Percy Jackson x fem reader
The reader and Percy do not get along it’s like a love hate relationship.During episode 4 Percy sacrificing himself at St Luis arch the reader breaks down the door and sees him fall.she then jumps after him.When they get out the river they both have an argument about the whole incident.which leads to the reader admitting she cares about him.Happy ending pls.
an: OMG STOP STOP BC I ACTUALLY ACTIVELY SCREAMED AT THIS REQUEST ANONNNNN STOOOOP I LOVE THIS SM IM ABOUT TO WRITE IT RNNNNNRNRNRNRN
✧RECKLESS || percy jackson x fem!reader
summary: as the group go to their next destination they arrive at the arch, annabeth and y/n’s mom’s sanctuary for some time. just when they think they’re safe, things don’t go to plan.
word count: FUCKIN 5878 NO BC IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR THREE HOURSSSSS AHH
warnings: y/n and percy being in a enemies or lovers trope, annabeth and grover being third and fourth wheelers, arguing, near death experiences, slight blood warnings, poisoned percy, a bit of crying? LIKE A TINY BIT, y/n is very argumentative.
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as the group made their way to the st. louis arch, they weren’t doing very good. at all.
on their way, the original plan was to get straight to las vegas, but thanks to the monsters and not wanting to take a break, their train got ruined by the mother of monsters.
as they walked into the front entrance of the arch that annabeth and y/n recommended. they had stated that monsters can’t get in and it will give them more time to find some way to get to las vegas a lot quicker than on foot.
‘six-hundred and thirty feet wide’ annabeth started—‘six-hundred and thirty feet tall, both two within an inch’
as they four of them walked fast enough to cause an old lady whiplash, percy and grover listened to the two of them explain their mothers sanctuary.
‘it’s got no internal support. each side is balanced perfectly against one another’ y/n states once more as annabeth nodded along with what she said.
‘the arch is held up by symmetry, it’s held up by math!’ annabeth expressed.
‘oh and it’s earthquake proof’ y/n added to annabeth’s comment, giving annabeth a small glance before they walked down the steps of the entrance into the small museum full of kids on a field trip.
‘it’s also high enough so poseidon can’t ruin it…but i don’t think mom would appreciate his child being in here, so.’ y/n looked over to percy who gave her a tight thin lipped smile before mumbling.
‘nice…’ annabeth and percy looked at the two before giving each other a look to soon squeeze themselves through the group kids.
‘excuse me’ annabeth mumbled to the boys and girls who turned and moved out of the way for the four.
‘this is how you show athena your love, a monument to the power of perfection’ annabeth told.
‘it’s a monument to some other stuff too’ grover added as they looked around and saw other things regarding more olden times, guns, head skeletons of buffalo and other things.
‘your talking about what some humans want this place to be about. we’re talking about what it actually is’ annabeth placed her hand over her own chest while looking at percy and grover who frowned but agreed nonetheless.
y/n rolled her eyes when she saw the amount of ‘skeletons’ and other things that litterd the walls and glass casing all around them. the people seeming to be pleased enough at what they saw to take a picture.
‘it’s sad to know they don’t know what it really means. very pathetic really.’ y/n mumbled to herself as she turned to annabeth. percy looked over at her and blinked before widening his eyes and choosing not to say anything about what she said.
‘whatever…we’re safe here, right?’ grover made sure to comprehend as they walked.
‘no monsters can enter…not even echidna’ y/n reassured grover who nodded nervously.
‘we’re safe’ annabeth added on.
‘great…well since our train exploded! i’m going to see if there’s another one we can get tickets on. we can’t stay here forever.’ grover looked over at the huge plastered picture of buffalo being attacked and hunted by hunters.
looking overly slowly at the three he said once more—‘just because we’re prey doesn’t mean we need to be helpless.’ turning around to leave, annabeth nervously cleared her throat and walked up to him.
‘wait! i’m going to go with you. you two wait here, don’t leave and don’t move’ annabeth ordered y/n and percy who frowned their eyebrows.
‘were would we go?’ y/n asked her with a raised eyebrow. annabeth rolled her eyes and caught up to grover who walked rather fast.
as the two of y/n and percy watched annabeth and grover walk away, percy decided now would probably be a good time to start a bit of conversation to stop the awkward silence.
‘he doesn't like it when people mess with animals,’ he added.
y/n didn’t both turn to his side but acknowledged his voice—‘yeah. i know.’
percy turned to y/n who kept her eyes focused on annabeth and grover even though they were long past the barrier of her eyesight.
‘…why are you so quiet?’ percy mumbled, his eyes looking over y/n’s frame that was unmoving from her standing position.
‘why does it matter?’ y/n turned to his presence now. seeing he was a bit away from here
‘it doesn't it’s just…you know…kind of awkward?’ percy nervously mumbled.
sighing percy didn’t want to really give up on the conversation knowing it would probably be best. the last thing he needed and had the time for was for y/n to snap at him, but it was worth the shot.
‘so, this is your moms place?’
y/n kept quiet and turned her eyes and head another direction from percy who kept speaking. clearing his throat he spoke—
‘be right down just going to the potty’ he said in a girly squeaky voice. this gained y/n’s attention.
as childish and stupid as it was, it was definitely an uplift from the previous mood. she lightly grinned but turned her head.
‘listen…me and you don’t get along and we both know that—‘
‘is it that obvious?’
‘shut up and listen okay?’ y/n sighed as percy nodded shamefully and let her continue .
‘i know you said it all in me and annabeth’s head…mostly mine? that i tell myself that our mother cares because it’s easier that way.’
percy let his eyebrows frown once more as he shook his head—‘i didn’t say that?’ he looked at y/n who turned her head to him and gave him a small look of which spoke—‘really?’
he shrugged it off and continued to talk—‘look ive been a demigod since…’ looking off to the side to calculate he finally came with an answer—‘last saturday. you shouldn’t listen to me.’ he told her as y/n let what he said soak in.
looking off to the side a bit she came up with some idea—plan for him to take, an offer.
‘you know, this is my mothers place. but? a temple is a temple. maybe you can say hi to your dad while your here?’ she explained.
percy seemed to almost take up her offer but quickly denied it. not wanting to really contact poseidon at the moment.
‘no thanks.’ he quickly shrugged off. this came undeniably confusing to y/n.
‘what could it hurt?’ she genuinely wanted her answer but he still shook his head.
‘your think with your mother…i get it, it’s different, it works for you. but my father…i don’t want anything from him. he had his chances—honestly you’ve done more for me in the past free days than my fathers done my entire life. if i have to stick with someone i—‘
trailing off as he caught himself y/n seemed to catch his slight slip up and tilted her head to the side a bit. her eyes looking him up and down before she smirked a bit—‘careful..i think you were about to call me a friend.’
before the beginning of the quest. before all of this. they had claimed in stone, they were and would never see themselves as friends. nothing more nothing less: the two of them simply didn’t see eye to eye. their priorities were set on two different things, and they both knew that.
but, things seemed to have change a bit on one end, and a lot on the other.
percy slightly looked down at the floor below as y/n turned her own head away from his.
‘somewhere around here the Oracle is laughing at us but you know—‘
as she said this percy seemed to feel insanely dizzy and instantly fell to the floor, y/n being there to catch him—‘whoa! percy? what’s going on?’ she asked him, being careful not to bombard him with too many questions given the fact he just fell out.
her arms being slightly wrapped around his shoulders he held onto her as he let her slowly let go of him. percy slightly sat down onto the floor as he caught his balance.
‘hey! what happened?’ grover and annabeth came running immediately when they saw him fall.
‘i think…i think those stinger things were poisonous…’ percy breathed heavily, his breath seeming to shorten on supply.
y/n looked around and it seemed to click for both the athena children—‘i have an idea’ the both of them claimed.
as the tie of them grabbed up on percy they found themself in the water that sat in front of the museum. with percy sitting down into it, the other three stood as they scooped and splashed percy from the head down with water.
he sat there and took it as they kept going scoop from scoop, hoping something would happen.
passers walked by and some stood to watch what they were doing and they their were kids sitting in the fountain but none took it upon themselves to stop it.
‘the water cured him back at camp! it should work with poison too!’ y/n found herself quickening her scoops of water while annabeth looked momentarily at her sister who wore a very worried expression.
if anything, she’s never seen her this worried. not for a while. not for percy.
‘you know—i think, i think this is working’ percy grabbed onto y/n’s hand who helped him stand—‘this was a great call’ he acknowledged their idea but only to end up stumbling back down into the water with even more dizziness.
‘or not.’ he breathed out.
‘maybe it needs to be naturally running water for Poseidon to heal him?’ y/n mumbled while she placed her hand comfortingly over percy’s shoulder.
grover looked to annabeth who went to speak but just then they heard crashing and sirens going down just ahead of them. they all went to look and seen a police car being flipped into another car.
‘we need to get back inside!’ annabeth went to pick up percy along with grover but y/n was quick to deny.
‘no we need to keep trying!’
‘ this isn’t working y/n—and she’s coming!’ grover sadly looked at y/n who stressed her expression of worry towards percy who looked up at her momentarily before the two of them looked ahead along with annabeth and grover to see echidna slowly strutting her way over to them with a grin.
y/n breathed out and quickly thought—‘okay look, we’ll take percy inside and we’ll go to the temples alter’ y/n went to pick up percy who grabbed onto her arm and hand as the other two helped to pick him up as well.
‘alter? where is there an alter?’ grover asked, frowning his eyebrows at the two.
‘the highest point—the best view!’
‘okay! but what good is that even going to do us?’ grover stressed once more.
y/n sighed and looked over to annabeth who looked at her and percy.
percy had his grip held tight on her as she equally had the same amount of strength being held onto him to secure him from falling.
‘we’re going to get to the top, and we’re going to ask my mom for help’ she breathed out. grover seemed to stop for a bit along with y/n who was nervous about this plan.
‘ask mom for help? annabeth are you insane?’
‘i thought we didn’t ask for help?’ percy put his two senses in making annabeth look over to him. seeing they didn’t have much time for anymore conversations, annabeth ushered the group to begin walking.
‘come on; we need to keep moving’ annabeth spoke in a hurry.
grover placed percy’s other arm over his shoulder to help balance out their walk and annabeth stayed to y/n’s side.
just as they began to walk and y/n with annabeth failed to walk a bit and happened to stumble behind. echidna began screeching to the two girl who turned and started—couldn’t help—but listen. their expressions becoming more flat, a bit worried.
percy took a heavy notice of y/n’s absence and turned to see mainly her with a saddened expression on her face.
why did she look like that? what was she seeing? what was she hearing? his thoughts raced. seeming to focus on her rather than himself being poisoned.
she let her eyes widen and she snapped out of some trance along with her sister who gripped her arm—‘guys? did you hear that?’ y/n looked over to annabeth who nodded immediately.
grover and percy however?
‘hear what?’ percy asked her with concern. grover shook his head and y/n looked at annabeth who sadly looked down.
‘come on—let’s keep walking—go help percy’ annabeth told y/n who jogged to percy’s side and grabbed only his arm once more.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
as the group hurried their way around the people who were mindlessly talking with themselves—completely unaware of the danger that was happening for the demigod children. they kept turning around to make sure their backs were clear.
some people would momentarily look at the group who carried one boy who looked like he just seen a ghost as they had their wet clothes tracing the floor as they walked.
the four of them getting into the small sitting elevator, they sat down—‘what was that back there? what did you guys hear?’ he asked the two sisters, but his main eyes trained on y/n who didn’t say a word. annabeth doing the same , she found her pinky slowly reaching over to y/n’s.
she got the hint and fully placed her hand over annabeth’s. percy looked down at their hands and came with the conclusion.
‘she spoke to you two’ percy breathed. his body was cold, and wet. the poison doing nothing more and adding onto his weakness and cold body.
‘alecto did that with me. back in the museum back in new york’ he recalled. annabeth and y/n still not speaking a word, only looking down and blinking momentarily.
percy didn’t really want to admit but he was becoming concerned for y/n’s mind. what did she hear that was bad?
‘what did she say?’ he asked once more.
just then, annabeth looked up in a hurry and squeezed y/n’s hand who looked up as well—and there she was. echidna.
she stood over the small metal balcony with her moneyed baby right behind her.
just as the doors shut they saw the two horns. y/n let her eyes widen along with the rest of the group’s.
grover gulped but began to talk—‘was that the chimera?’ he looked over to y/n who place she head in her hands and held them their in stress—percy looking over with frowned eyebrows as his wet hair dripped into his eye.
‘i—i think that was the chimera!’ grover worryingly spoke. percy let his focus set on y/n who kept nervously looking anywhere but the group.
‘how did the chimera even get inside here? how did any monster get inside here—‘
‘y/n?’ percy breathed out, his worry building up on y/n who kept quiet. annabeth looked over at her sister who didn’t even look at her either.
‘we’re in a secretary, athena would have to let her in but why would she do that?’
‘y/n!’ percy called out to her once more. seeing her eye finally set up upon his own he hoped they could keep their eyes trained on one another.
‘what did echidna say to you?’ he asked—demanded and answer.
she worryingly looked back down before shaking her head a bit, biting on the inside of her cheek.
‘she said my impertinence ruined our mother pride. and that that, would be our doom.’ she looked angrily over at percy who shook his head.
‘impertinence? what kind of—‘ finally recalling. medusa’s head.
giving y/n the look of knowing she gave him a look as well as annabeth and grover watched them talk.
‘ medusa’s head.’ he nodded while y/n shook her head, a frown setting upon her features.
‘i embarrassed my mother…’
percy shook his head while trying to clear up his running thoughts—‘but—i’m the one who sent the head to olympus? i sighed the note—‘
‘and i went along with it! it embarrassed her…now she’s angry. because if your impertinence, and because i was dumb enough to go along with it, we won’t get any help, we won’t get an answer from her!’ y/n shouted to percy who shook his head.
‘y/n—‘
‘no! annabeth, he needs to understand this isn’t some game, this isn’t camp, we can seriously die out here, and he can’t just go around sending dead body parts to the gods just because?’ y/n stressed even more as percy nervously looked at y/n who avoided his eye contact once more.
‘guys…what are we going to do?’ grover broke the silence as they seemed to be near the top of the arch.
‘she isn't going to help us when we get to the top to have percy’ annabeth expressed to grover who cut her off—‘no i mean what are we going to do about echidna and chimera? they're going to be right being us,’ he exclaimed.
as the four of them looked at each other—percy hoping to catch y/n’s eyes but failed he looked down at the floor.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
‘we’re not going to have much time’ as the group let themselves out of the elevator, y/n getting out first to leave percy with grover and annabeth to help him out.
percy took a hard notice to this but tried to shrug us off—‘they’ll be up here any minute. and if our mother isn’t going to protect us, then we’ll just have to fight it out up here’ y/n finished as they walked up the short amount of stairs to the top.
once they did was when y/n lost her confidence for a second and saw a huge crowd talking among themselves with phones taking pictures and smiles on their faces.
and when percy, grover and annabeth were behind her, they saw the extent of trouble they were in.
‘oh no…we gotta get everybody out of here’ grover expressed with worry as he held onto percy.
percy looked to y/n who seemed to smile a bit with her idea.
running to the fire alarm she pulled it, setting off a loud beep that got everybody's attention.
as everyone slightly panicked and walked their way down the hall with the others, y/n placed her hand onto annabeth’s shoulder and ushers them along the hall.
‘you guys follow the group down the steps—‘
‘what?’ percy hurried to look at y/n who momentarily look at him then back at grover who spoke.
‘no, no—we—were not spitting up’ grover expressed.
‘grover come on!’
‘y/n i’m not leaving you here!’ annabeth spoke to her sister who gave her a sad look.
‘no… no no no no we’re all getting out of here together’ percy breathed out, hoping to get y/n’s attention. once he did he kept their eyes focused on one another.
‘we won’t make it! the chimera is a demigod killer! someone has to stay back to slow her down and buy everyone some time’ y/n walked with her hand on annabeth’s back while they walked to the steps with everyone going down in a hurry.
once they got to them, grover, annabeth and percy turned to y/n who stood at the door to make sure she shut it before they left.
‘okay—once you get downstairs you need get him to the river. and don’t stop. not till you get to hades. not till you have the hold, do you understand?’ y/n looked at the three before looking at percy, he shook his head in denial.
‘y/n you can’t just stay here and say that and expect me to listen—‘
‘do what i saw annabeth! just this once, okay?’ she pleaded. annabeth shook her head with a frown upon her lips, forever going the same.
‘oaky go!’ she heard the footsteps of the two right behind and went to shut the door only for percy to speak.
not wanting to let her go he quickly came with a plan.
‘wait!—‘ taking the pen that formed into a sword out of his pocket he held it to y/n who looked at it.
flipping it around to make sure the handle would be in her touch, he held it out to her and spoke once more—‘take this’ he held out to her.
as she went to reach slowly, he waited for her grip to hold tightly onto it—only then did he switch sides, pushing her into the room and closing the door.
‘percy!’ y/n yelled out to percy who made sure the door was locked.
‘percy!?’ grover yelled. the three of them baging on the door as percy breathed heavily, his body weak and pale.
‘percy no! don’t do this! they’ll kill you!’ y/n yelled her voice becoming louder but more weak.
‘posiden never helped me before. he wasn’t gonna start now. i would’ve never made it to hades. but you can. and now you will.’ percy talked to them before he walked away from the foot. their banding never stopping.
‘percy! please?! you can’t do this!’ y/n cried out.
walking towards echidna and the chimera who walked their way to percy who’s eyesight blur more and more. causing him to stumble and his weakened grip on his sword.
‘this is the end sweetheart.’ echidna spoke softly, her motherly tone never wavered. ‘don’t fight it. you’ll only make her angry.’ she warned.
as the chimera walked over to percy he held his sword up higher with determination in his eyes. the chimera began to growl as she went to open her mouth, inside a small orange and red glow becoming prominent, percy swung his sword at the leg of the chimera, making it rawr out in anger and slight pain.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
behind the door y/n banged harder and harder, hoping somehow he would come back and change his mind.
annabeth couldn’t watch her sister be like this—hurt, confused, mainly disappointed. turning sound as she reached into her pocket to grab her own sword that extended, she let it change its form into a smaller pick pocket knife.
‘you two! go now, go to the bottom of the steps and wait outside, police are bound to show up, so stay with them and don’t move! i’ll meet you down there with percy!’ y/n demanded her sister and best friend who shook their head.
‘y/n please—‘
‘annabeth! listen to me! okay? i’ll be okay, i’ll see you guys down there, go!’ she pushed them slightly as they looked at y/n once more who nodded to the two, giving them a slight smile.
annabeth gave one back as she nodded and grabbed along of grover, the two of them making their way down the stairs.
as y/n turned around the let her knife be placed into the middle of the lock, letting it extend, it did just enough to to break the lock and break the metal of the door.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
pulling and pushing its paw up, she pushed percy far into the metal railing of the side of the wall, making him fall and yell out in pain. the chimera snarling at percy. as she walked over to percy once more he laid onto the floor with weak arms and body to see it open its mouth and their in the pit of her throat, fire. being bubbled and arousing through the back of her throat.
‘percy!’ y/n yelled. he turned around immediately to see y/n run towards him and pull him out of the way of the chimera’s fire that erupted through its throat and mouth, spreading and melting the floor below. y/n grabbed ahold of y/n as she pulled him away form the fire.
his grip holding onto her to make sure she was safe and unharmed, y/n quickly checked over percy as he nodded slightly.
in the distance, echidna raised her hand and flexed it towards the floor before them, a huge gaping hole being torn open into the carpet and metal floor. the wind from the highness of the arch blowing into the faces of y/n and percy who held each other.
the chimera roared loudly as y/n went to help percy stand up the two for them made their way over to the chimera with their swords in hand, y/n made her way in front of percy who noticed this and tired to quicken his pace so that he was in front of her.
swinging her sword the chimera dodged it and hit y/n so hard she passed out right onto the other side of the hole.
‘y/n! percy yelled—‘ soon percy tried his turn only to be hit with the chimera’s horns. throwing him back in the walk and down the gaping hole.
the chimera seeming pleased, it walked its way along with echidna to see percy still holding on.
‘y/n! wake up—‘ he grunted.
y/n paid along the side of the carpet ground with her head pounding.
‘so unfair. you never had a chance did you?’ echidna looked down at percy who was praying to whoever that y/n woke up right now.
‘if only someone cared enough about you to provide you with one’ she tilted her head as percy grunted and held onto the metal plate that was the only thing supporting him right now.
‘y/n?!’ he called out once more.
just afar, she grunted and let herself slowly wake up. just as she looked over and grabbed ahold of her sword. seeing echidna shake her head down into the hole she stumbled her way up, the blood on the head running down her eyebrow and down the side of her eye.
‘percy?’ she looked and saw he was nowhere to be found.
putting up all her strength, she stood up and hit echidna across the back of her head with her sword making echidna help out, the chimera turning around to her mother to her y/n had yelled out—
‘percy!’ she yelled seeing him reaching out to her as he fell, she took her jump and went right after him.
the two of them falling down further and further, y/n stretched her hand far enough for the two of them to be holding each other's hand.
as y/n felt herself lose consciousness once more from her injury, percy gripped her hand even tighter, and just as he turned a bit from the air around them, he saw a huge water thing, coming right towards them.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
when percy came to. he was under the green water. the small fish and thing around him, he hurried his eyes and head to turn and see y/n not too far from him. her eyes still closed and her hair clouding around her.
swimming out and going to pull her up to the surface, percy felt himself and her go back down a bit—looking to see her foot caught and stuck around something that held her in place.
swimming down a bit to held her foot get unstuck he grunted and strained as the bubbles from his mouth started to flow and go up to the surface. pulling and pulling he suddenly saw something.
something glowing in the green water—‘you are frightened.’ it claimed.
blinking his eyes to see what it was he frowned, but kept pulling at y/n’s foot, his only priority was to get her out.
‘it’s alright percy. your father sent me to tell you, it’s alright.’ he paused a bit at this and looked over at the flowing glow.
‘just breath.’ she instructed. going to do so—he abruptly stopped and went back to pull at y/n’s foot. her head still bleeding and her body still unconscious.
‘your father is here, he’s always been here’ she continued to talk as percy pulled at y/n’s foot.
‘it’s so hard for him to stand back, to see you struggle. it is so hard for us all. but he’s here, and he’s so very proud. trust him. trust yourself. stopping his movements and looking over at the flowing glow, he held onto y/n’s leg who started to shake awake.
her eyes slowly opened and focused to see her and percy and somehow ended up into the water. she looked to see percy looking over at something, following his gaze she saw what he was seeing and frowned.
‘just breath.’ she told once more and when y/n turned down to percy, he breathed in and seemed to be breathing just fine under the water.
looking up at y/n he saw her holding her breath and went right back to pulling her foot with all his might, this time she was there to help. pulling up her foot, percy came with an idea, one that she definitely wouldn’t like.
going up to her, face to face, he placed his hand on her shoulder then soon her neck—if y/n couldn’t speak with her words, she definitely would with her expressions. with one that woke—‘what are you doing?’
he looked down with his eyes at her mouth and she immediately shook her head knowing exactly what he was implying. he looked at her and grabbed ahold of her cheek while she looked down to pull at her foot, her lungs burning and screaming for air.
percy gaining her attention, she blinked the water going in and out of her eyes and she held his eyes with her own. frowning she nodded her head slightly and let percy lean in under the water—his lips setting upon hers he breathed in his air to buy her more time. once they retracted, y/n and percy held eye contact before he kept his hand held on her own.
once he was down to her foot, he tugged as she pulled and soon she was free.
grabbing only y/n, the two of them hurried and swam to the top.
ㆍ୨୧ㆍ
when they got to the surface, they swam to the concrete surface and pulled themselves along the metal rails. y/n got the helping hand of percy who pulled her with the two of his hands.
‘your okay, are you okay? your okay, right!?’ percy rushed to ask y/n who caught her breath and immediately reached up to touch the blood and wound that happened to close up.
looking at percy who half his hand on y/n’s arm and neck he checked her body and she took note of how he was healed as well.
‘percy! i’m okay…im okay’ she soothed him as he slowled his movements and looked into her eyes.
‘you jumped after me…you followed me down not knowing what would happen—‘
‘how could i not percy! how could i not? you are so careless, reckless and so selfish to think nobody would think of you and how you could have died! you left me— us, behind in the staircase to go off on our own and save your mom from the underworld!? how messed up is that percy! she would want to see her son! not two kids who she doesn’t know!’ y/n percy in his chest who stumbles back.
he looked nervously up at y/n trying to grab her hand only for her to slap it away—‘your selfish, greedy, reckless and so so stupid percy jackson! and i’m stupid enough…’ when he heard this he looked at her from the ground to see her slowly shaking her head at percy who looked up at her with hope.
‘i’m stupid enough to be the idiot one as well and jump after you. and i’m stupid enough to have cared so much. too much about you. percy…you can’t do things like that…not now, not even. not as long as i’m alive.’ she felt her eyes water a bit with the amount of worry he put her through when she was behind that door and out of his reach.
percy took note to this and hurried to grab her up and hug her tightly. she arms immediately finding their way around his body and his wrapped along her body as well. the two of them held each other so tightly they forgot about the world around them.
when they let go from the hug that seemed to have lasted forever, sorry nervously laughed. y/n looked confusingly at him with a small grin on her face.
‘so…what happened underwater—‘
‘don’t!’ y/n placed her hands over percy’s mouth who smiled at her as she shook her head in a hurry, her cheeks seeming to redden.
‘y/n!’
‘percy!’ two voices yelled from behind them. the two of them turned around to see grover and annabeth running to them.
‘annabeth!’ y/n happily yelled. as they embraced each other, percy hugged grover who hugged him tightly.
‘your safe’ annabeth breathed out’—but how—‘
‘doesn't matter! what matters…is that we’re together, safe.’ y/n smiled as she turned around to grover and percy. her eyes lingering on percy a bit more which seemed to not go unnoticed by grover and annabeth.
‘come on! we need to get moving’ annabeth held her hand along y/n’s back who walked with her.
as they walked, annabeth and y/n talked amongst themselves while grover and percy walked.
grover noticed how percy’s eyes never left y/n’s form and his focus never left her.
‘so..’ he started. percy let his eyes linger but his head turn to grover before his eyes focused on him.
‘what happened under water?’ grover finished making percy abruptly stopped, pulling grover with him laughed.
‘what—how do you—‘
‘my ears hear many things dude’ he smiled at percy whose face was grew redder by the second.
turning to see y/n and annabeth still walking and talking he turned to grover, turning him around so their backs were friend to the girls.
‘under the water…i found out i can breath. but y/n was stuck so…to give her more air— i had to share my air—‘
‘so you kissed?’ grover interrupted making percy grow red all over—‘don’t say it like that and don’t let her you know! she’ll kill me…she also. happened to tell me she actually cares about me, a lot’ percy smiled at the recalling of what she said.
‘so…she basically confessed she likes you?’ grover added once more. percy looked to the side as he nodded slowly.
‘dude!’
‘grover please! don’t tell her—‘
‘i won’t i won’t!’
percy nervously breathed out before letting go of grover who straightened his jacket.
as the two turned around to see the girl waiting but still taking, grover turned it percy and yelled with a smile—‘so y/n what happened!?’ he ran over to y/n making percy run after him
‘grover!’ percy yelled.
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scorpihoe1111 · 1 month
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Synastry Observations👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨
Today I’m going to be giving Synastry Observations. Synastry charts are basically you and another individuals chart put together to help explain how you and said person might or might not get along, how you two see each other and what the future may hold for you two etc.
Synastry Charts are not only meant for romantic relationships! They can apply to familial, platonic friendships, co-workers etc!
Synastry charts are a great way to find out if you’re compatible with another person. But keep in mind that these are not set in stone, and just general observations I’ve noticed within couples charts. There are plenty examples of synastry charts clashing and the couple/friends work together perfectly, and vice versa.
With that said, let’s get into it. ☺️
Those with Sun square Sun in synastry usually can’t get along. This placement usually signifies one or the other feeling like they completely clash personality/ego wise.
Individual’s who have their Venus sextile or trine the others ASC might be highly attracted to the ASC person upon first glance/impression. The ASC person may be exactly the Venus persons type.
If your Sun ☀️, Venus 🩷, or ASC ⬆️ is the same sign as someone’s 7H, they could see you as wifey/husband material. The 7H person could immediately wanna settle down with you.
Those who’s moon trine/sextile someone’s mars knows how to help the mars person calm down or relax. Not to be cliche, but I find this aspect in a lot of relationships where the Mars person was a “player who can’t be tamed” and the moon person was the only one who managed to get them to show their softer side and change.
The sign of your 12H is usually people who can be hidden enemies.
Ex: Say you’re a Virgo rising, so you have Leo in the 12H. Leo placements could be shady towards you, or always seeming like they’re hiding something from you. Experiences with Leo placements may leave a bad taste in your mouth.
Another big factor is where your 12H sign lies within their chart. This can tell you what they could hide from you. If your 12H is their sun sign, they could be faking their entire personality with you. If your 12H sign is their moon sign, they could be hiding their true feelings about you. If it’s mercury, you may not know what they say about you behind your back and they could possibly gossip about you. If it’s mars, they could possibly have complete hatred or a grudge against you and so on.
It’s not impossible for 12H synastry to be good, but it’s rare and usually results in a lot of secret animosity/jealousy.
Moon square Venus in synastry can make the 2 individuals have completely different love languages and/or may not see eye to eye when it comes to what the other wants.
If someone’s Mars sign is the same sign as your 5H, the Mars person could want to get you pregnant (or you may want the Mars person to get you pregnant) 🤰🏻
The best way to discover if someone’s your soulmate, twin flame or overall to check who you’re probably going to get married to is to check where the asteroid Juno (3) lands in both of your charts. The Sun ☀️ sign of said person could possibly be the same as your Juno sign
Pluto aspecting personal planets in synastry can indicate the Pluto person being very possessive or controlling of the planet individual.
Venus aspecting Chiron in synastry can indicate either helping heal the Chiron persons biggest wound or worsening it. Ex: Venus Trine/sextile Chiron can help the Chiron person feel more secure and confident thanks to the Venus person. Venus Square/Opp Chiron can make the Venus person make the Chiron person more insecure or more uncomfortable with the Chiron wound.
8H synastry is sooo intense. It makes the 8H person wanna possess you as a person and makes them lust after you uncontrollably. It’s also super hard to forget or let go of someone who’s sign is in your 8H and vice versa.
2H synastry is bittersweet because I notice the 2H person genuinely cares about the planet person to an almost unconditional degree while the planet person cares just as much, however more conditionally. While the planet person does have love for the 2H, they also are mainly with the 2H person because they add to the planets self worth and image and/or the 2H person usually provides something(s) to the planet person and without that they most likely wouldn’t remain with the 2H person in the first place.
People who’s Mars lands in your 12H can be in secret competition with you and/or jealous and intimidated of you.
Mercury square moon in synastry usually have very conflicting ideologies and outlooks on life.
Someones Mars conjunct/Trine your Jupiter sign feel like you’re their lucky charm 🍀
Those who’s Sun sign is the same sign as your Saturn can come into your life to teach you a lesson.
Mars in 1H synastry can make the 1H person either EXTREMELY turned on by the Mars person or result in complete dislike. (Very much a sexual tension placement if you ask me)
Someone’s Lilith in your 1H/8H could make you feel like the Lilith person is a bad influence in your life. People with this synastry usually end up making reckless decisions on the account of the Lilith person encouraging them too.
I hope you enjoyed. Let me know if you’d like a part 2. 💕
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krypticcafe · 9 months
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Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.
(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)
Me and the Devil
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader
warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort
wordcount: ~3.8k
a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin
synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.
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Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).
But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.
Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.
Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.
"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.
"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."
When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."
"Fuck you." You rasped.
"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.
"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.
However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.
With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.
"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"
There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.
He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."
Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.
A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."
Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.
"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.
You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.
It was like you were seven again.
Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.
Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.
At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.
"Damn it, what now?!"
Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.
Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.
Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.
Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.
To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.
"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.
The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.
"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.
"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"
You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.
At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.
"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"
"Friendly, friendly!"
Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...
"Captain?"
"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"
Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.
You were safe.
It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.
"You're in good hands,"
"We've got them covered,"
"They can't hurt you anymore, love."
"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.
"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.
"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.
"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.
The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.
Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.
Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."
"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.
Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"
Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.
"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."
"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."
That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."
You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.
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a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months
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Hiiiii, I have a request for the newly arrived Indigo Disk-
A really happy ending for Kiki where after the whole DLC, he then starts to make amends with the BB Elite 4, his sister and protag which eventually gains him Ogerpon's recognition, prompting her to wanna go with him as an extra treat after all his angst (quq)
Yessss we gotta give him the happy end he deserves <3
.........
Setting up a small picnic within the Terarium, you brought your current Pokémon team out to play, deciding to take in the beautiful coastal biome and its warmth.
Even though you knew it was all artificial, it didn't make much of a difference to your companions. They happily frolicked in the sand and grass, although some opted to take a nap under the sun after a hard day of battling.
Meanwhile, you were fixing up a sandwich for everyone to share, deciding to add a little bit of spice to it (at Crispin's suggestion, of course). You didn't want it to be too flaming-hot for your Pokémon--or at least none that were fire types who could handle the heat.
However one in particular just seemed to be hungry for anything, as upon hearing a crystalline trill, you looked down to see Terapagos at your feet. It was gently pawing on your leg, eyes sparkling as it wondered what you were cooking up.
"Hey, little guy." You cooed, reaching down to pat its head before you scooped it up, allowing it to climb into your lap. "Smells tasty, huh? I bet you're super hungry after sleeping all those years."
It only responded with another happy trill, and you just sighed.
Who would've known this would be the legendary "Hidden Treasure" of Area Zero Heath and [Turo/Sada] sought after, the creator of the Terastal Phenomenon...
And the Pokémon that put up one hell of a fight against you, Carmine, and Kieran?
Speaking of whom...
It's been roughly a month since those events down in the Underdepths, and for the most part things have been looking up for both you and him. You were just happy to see that spark return to his eyes...
The spark he had once lost...mainly because of you.
Part of you would always remain guilty over unknowingly setting him down such a dark path--obsessing over defeating you in battle to the point where he didn't care who got hurt in the process.
He didn't wanna be that weak little kid you kept beating back in Kitakami anymore, always bragging about how much he's changed and demanding you to never hold back.
But after being humbled in front of the entire school, he was willing to do anything to have at least one victory against you.
Even if it meant utilizing a dangerous legendary Pokémon he had little understanding of....
He tried to control it, and as punishment it attacked him directly.
Arceus only knows what could've happened if your 'raidon didn't absorb the blast in time, and that selfless act made him feel all the more guilty for the way he acted towards you.
He idolized you, hated you, and yet.....you saved his life when you could have just saved yourself, his sister, and Briar instead.
He cried like a baby the whole way home, overwhelmed by everything that's happened from last year up to now, yet you comforted him and didn't tease him once.
After returning to Unova, he made a promise to fix things between you and everyone else he hurt, finally letting go of his envy and deciding to start fresh with you. His request to be your friend again had you laughing, much to his confusion..and a little worried you were making fun of him.
Then he almost sobbed after you explained that you've never considered him an enemy at all.
Despite everything, you never stopped seeing him as a friend.
Sometime later you went home to Paldea, although not without exchanging rotomphone information with him so you could have more chats.
Yep. Kieran finally got his own phone, but being from the countryside made him only somewhat familiar with the basics. You and Carmine helped him with that, of course. He loved the camera function and would often send you photos of his Hydrapple doing something cute.
They're mostly blurry, but he's getting the hang of it.
You eventually went back to the BB Academy to further your studies of the biomes, and winded up taking a small picnic break within the Terarium. No rules said you couldn't, and Drayton did insist that you didn't overwork yourself...
Which is funny coming from the guy who had to repeat classes, although you took his advice.
"Roto-to-to-to~"
Your eyes lit up as you received an incoming call from Kieran, and you greeted him with a smile, waving. "Kiki! How's it going?"
"Hey, [y/n]." He smiled back, and then he blinked upon realizing how familiar the background behind you was. "Wait..you're back in Unova? In the Terarium?"
"Uh..yeah! I was gonna surprise you, but I guess it's too late for that now." You awkwardly chuckled. "How are things going with the League?"
"Better than..I thought, actually." He sat back in his chair, tying his hair up. "Drayton and I are finally on speaking terms again."
"Oh that's great!"
"Mhm. We both felt kinda bad about how we treated each other with the whole "ex-champion" thing...said some stuff we didn't mean. Last week we were avoiding each other, and now we're having casual Pokémon battles to ease the tension between us."
"I'm glad to hear that." You nodded, taking a bite out of your sandwich.
"I..really do owe you one for bringing the club back together. I've been so bitter and didn't realize how much it was hurting Lacey and the others...not to mention how many people I wrongfully kicked out. I promise I'm gonna get all of them back into the club. I swear."
"I fully believe you. Just don't run yourself dry trying to patch up everything with everyone, okay?"
Kieran nodded in understanding, although he suddenly went quiet. You wondered why until you realized he could see Terapagos, who was currently climbing onto the table trying to get some lettuce.
"Heyyyy that's not for you, you little scamp." Teasingly, you scooped it up again, keeping a gentle grip on its belly and shell before you looked back at your friend, bashful. "Don't mind Terapagos. It's always hungry."
"I see." He chuckled. "You've been taking care of it well?"
"Yep, but have you been taking care of yourself, too?"
"...yeah." He muttered. "Carmine's been getting on my case about properly eating and sleeping again. Don't tell her this, but I appreciate it more than she realizes. And..I'll admit I was turning into a jerk like she used to be, and that's not something I want..."
"Well sounds like you're doing much better now..don't beat yourself up over it." You reassured him.
His shoulders relaxed. "I'm..trying not to....so [y/n], do you think we could meet up in person? Like at your dorm? I...feel like we haven't talked face-to-face in a while."
"Sure! I got nothing planned later so....see you in a few hours?"
"Sounds good." He smiled. "See ya."
The call ended as your rotomphone dropped back onto the table. You picked it up and stared at the case, feeling giddy about seeing him again after so long.
And to think when you first arrived here..you felt nothing but tension whenever he was in the same room as you, feeling the negative vibes rolling off of him like an aura of Bitter Malice.
You were glad those days were gone and he was your friend again.
"Pon?"
"Huh? Ogerpon..? You were here the whole time??" Surprised, you glanced over to see the grass legendary sitting on the ground beside you, being sure to stay clear of the camera view. She lowered her mask and looked at you with a knowing smile.
Considering the way Kieran freaked out when you brought her into the championship battle (not to mention him doing everything in his power to knock her out)...you would've thought she'd never wanna see or hear from him again--especially since her "betrayal" was still a fresh wound.
Yet apparently she was listening to your entire conversation with him, and had this understanding look to her starry eyes.
"Pon, ponnn?"
"Huh?" You blinked. "You wanna..see him, too? Are you sure?"
She hopped to her feet, nodding eagerly before pointing in the direction of the academy.
"Okay. Maybe..it'll be a good thing." A smile appeared on your face, although in the back of your mind you hoped that seeing her again won't scare Kieran too much.
...........
"Okay, so the Golurk congregate here....and they're usually guarding the Goletts.."
Back in your dorm room, you were just jotting down notes about recent Pokémon outbreak sightings. Ogerpon was sitting on your countertop, swinging her legs while munching on a bowl of her favorite berries you've found for her throughout Kitakami.
Right as she finished the last one, there was a knock at the door, and you both immediately knew who it was. She was a little nervous, but you reassured her that things will be okay before you went to answer it.
Sure enough Kieran was on the other side. He's never been to your dorm until now, and as he walked in was surprised and intrigued by all the stuff you had hung up on the wall.
"Excuse the mess." You chuckled, closing the door.
"Don't worry, my dorm's worse." He shyly smiled back at you, although his expression faltered as his gaze went to a certain legendary..
He immediately tensed up, not out of anger.....but like he was expecting her to use Ivy Cudgel at any given moment. "What's the Ogre doing here--wait, no..that sounded rude. I'm sorry."
"No, no. It's fine. There's actually something we've been meaning to talk to you about."
"..oh?" Turning back to you, he tilted his head.
"So Ogerpon overheard our little chat earlier, and she wanted to see you."
"She did?"
"Yeah," you nodded, feeling your heart start to race with anticipation. "And..um...maybe it's easier if she explains."
Kieran was confused as you gestured to Ogerpon, but his eyes went wide when she approached him. With no mask on, she wore a confident expression as she handed him...
A pokeball?
No..
It was the pokeball you caught her in.
"What is this? Some new trick you taught her?" Looking to you for an explanation, all he could see was your smile. "Why isn't she...afraid of me?"
"Because she knew you were trying to make amends with everybody." You patted her head, beaming. "I think she finally recognizes you as a strong Pokémon trainer, and...she wants to be yours."
".....huh?"
"She wants to be yours." You repeated, watching as he tried to process this information. And his jaw damn near dropped to the floor, but he closed his mouth and shook his head.
"Y-You're joking, right?"
"Nope. We both decided that she's ready for a new partner. Someone who's believed in her side of the story since-"
"No, no, no..I..I-I can't do that.." He shook his head frantically, backing away from Ogerpon. "I'm sorry. But she's yours, [y/n]. She chose to go with you. You passed her test and...I didn't. I was being stupid and selfish and-"
"I think I was being more selfish."
Looking up at you, he blinked a few times.
"Listen, I know everyone likes to say such great things about me...but I'm not some perfect angel." You frowned slightly. "I lied to you, I stole the Pokémon you've idolized for years...and I hurt someone who considered me a friend. You called me out on that and you had every right to."
"........"
"If anybody here needs to apologize..it's me." Bowing your head, you sighed softly. "So I'm truly sorry for the way I treated you, Kieran. I'm sorry for never considering your feelings before. I wasn't a good friend, and I wanna be a better one. So I'm gonna make this right...both of us will."
You looked back up at him, seeing the shock written all over his face. Then you glanced at Ogerpon, taking the pokeball and instructing her to get her masks off the wall. She nodded and did just that.
"You deserve to know what her power is like. The masks, the TMs I taught her...you can have them all. No trades. No strings attached..except for us staying friends, of course."
Finally, Kieran found his ability to speak again, but he was already getting choked up. "[Y/n], the apology is...th-that's more than enough for me." His eyes watered. "I forgive you. There's no way I can take her from-"
"You're not taking her away. I'm giving her to you, silly." You chuckled.
"....I..I still don't know if I can accept that. I'm not worthy of her even looking my way anymore. I was disrespectful to her wishes, I stole her mask..a-and you're saying...she forgives me?"
"I think she's gonna let bygones be bygones. Isn't that right, 'pon?"
"Ponio! Pon!" With her masks together, Ogerpon gazed at you, nodding confidently. You could only smile back as you patted her head again, seeing that she was ready for a new adventure.
You've trained her well, helping her grow stronger than ever before as you've mastered her abilities with all four masks.
But now it's time that someone else had the chance to bond with her...
Someone like Kieran.
After sending her into the pokeball for the last time, you gazed at the purple-haired boy. His whole body refused to move, so you approached him and took his gloved hand, placing the device snuggly into his palm.
For the longest time, he stared at it, and then he looked back at you. "A-Are you sure I can't just...keep her for a day and then give her back?" He began to sniffle, face growing bright red. "Because if...wh-what if she doesn't-?"
"I want you to have her permanently." Knowing what was coming, you brought him into a tight hug, feeling him wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. "Don't worry. She's gonna love you, Kiki." You rubbed his back. "She trusts you now. She's all yours."
All he could do was nod, your shirt getting soaked by his tears as he hiccupped, thanking you over and over again. He wasn't bawling loudly like before, but he still had a tough time keeping himself together; so you led him to your bed where he was more comfortable.
You're 99% certain this poor guy's never received a hug in his life, given how he refused to let you go. So you allowed him to hold onto you for as long as he needed or wanted.
At last you got out all of the things you've been meaning to say to him...and even Ogerpon got to apologize in her own special way by wanting to be his partner Pokémon.
You thought this would have been too much for Kieran to handle, but you could see he's grown a lot and that he was ready to accept this huge responsibility.
Terapagos will remain with you, and Ogerpon will be his forever.
After everything that's happened, it's what he deserves.
583 notes · View notes
divineecelestial · 11 months
Text
Pretty Girl [ 2 ] — Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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Summary — Eddie doesn't like when other guys talk about his girl. You think he's stupid because you're not his girl. He proves you wrong.
Word Count — 2.8k
Warnings — Graphic depictions of sexual activity, kinda mean!eddie, enemies to lovers banter, thigh riding, light face slapping, dirty talk
Part One
18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI
The old metal of the trailer creaked as the door slammed closed. With a wavering hand squeezing his blood-stained nostrils, Eddie glanced away from his reflection in his mirror and poked his head from the restroom doorway. His eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the quick and light footsteps approaching him.
He had practically pleaded with Dustin to not make any more phone calls. He was already embarrassed, more exasperated with the number of times he’s had to stuff his nose with clean tissues, and didn’t want to deal with the scolding and teasing from his friends. Thankfully, none of them had arrived, but, of course, you weren’t like any other person he’d ever met and drove over. If things were different and he wasn’t squeezing his nose with blood seeping beneath his fingernails, he would have paid more attention to the fact that you were there for him. But, stupidly of him, he didn’t think about that. “You came?” He asked, his voice nasally as he squeezed his nose firmly.
Your eyebrows furrowed together with obvious confusion as you neared him. “Of course, I came. Dustin said you needed me.” Now, that wasn’t something he could easily disregard. He wasn’t even sure you knew you had said those words, far too concerned with the pile of bloodied tissues in the corner of the room. You came because he needed you. You pushed his hand aside, carefully tilting his head back and he wordlessly complied. “What happened?”
Now, this was where things became awkward. Roughly an hour ago, Eddie saw something he definitely shouldn’t have. From across the hallway, he watched you. This wasn’t anything new, he could watch you for as long as he could if given the chance, but what was new was the guy across from you. He keeps telling himself he isn’t jealous, couldn’t possibly be. The words overspread his thoughts, suffusing every crevice and space of his head as he watched the spectacle. Maybe, just maybe, if he said the words enough, he’ll eventually believe them. He had to. There isn’t any reason for him to be internally seething with jealousy. You weren’t his. But, God, watching you smile like that because of some random guy was more than enough to have him become nauseous. Seriously, he could feel revulsion bubbling within him.
After you dismissed yourself with a small wave and watched with unfamiliar wrath as this prick motioned for his friends to check you out as you walked away and made a bet on who could fuck you first, he came to a final and startling conclusion. You were his. And that ass these dicks were checking out was definitely not theirs, only his. You ascended up the stairwell and he caught the faintest glance of beneath your skirt. Yeah, that ass and you were only his.
He explained some of what happened and he couldn’t restrain the pleased smile as the concerned softness on your expression deteriorated and was replaced with the familiar annoyance. “You can’t fight people just because they were talking to me.” You sneered.
He removed the small tissue from his nose. “Of course, I can,” He said casually, unbothered by the possessiveness he was displaying. Your glare hardened. “I know you’re mad at me, but you look so good right now.” You did. The sheen of your lipgloss was reflecting from his bedroom light and your hair was styled just how he liked it.��
If you were nerved by his words, you didn’t show it. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Even though you were pissed with him, nothing new, your honey-laced words rejuvenated him like a gulp of fresh air. Those butterflies fluttered inside him, threatening to tear through his skin and fly amongst your aura. 
He smiled boyishly. “You look really beautiful in this skirt, by the way. It really suits you.”
His bloodstained fingers gingerly plucked at the bottom of your skirt, lifting the fabric teasingly before dropping it. “You are infuriating.” You said through clenched teeth.
“And you are quite possibly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 
There was a flash of something in your gaze and he wouldn’t have even caught the change if he hadn’t been mesmerized by the color of your eyes. You blinked and it was gone. “What the hell were you even thinking?” You didn’t know why you even asked. This moron obviously wasn’t thinking. 
Another lovesick smile. “You’re all I think about.” His finger caressed the skin above your knee. “You care about my well-being, gorgeous?”
You visibly swallowed. “No, not at all.” You said and you weren’t even convinced by the declaration. 
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh, really?” He asked.
You narrowed your eyes. “Yes, really.”
Eddie’s dubious stare remained on you as he thought for a moment. “You might be able to lie to everyone else and have them fooled, but I can always tell and you’re lying right now.”
You crossed your arms across you chest and chuckled humorlessly. “So you think you know everything about me now?” You didn’t know how to feel about being seen so clearly. 
He leaned further back against his bedframe and you despised that he behaved with such a casualness, an obvious nonchalance while you were straining to remain as stoic as you could manage. “No, I do know everything about you and I know deep down you like me.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like anything about you.” You lied straight through your teeth, your glittering eyes glowing with a wave of irate anger reserved solely for him. You knew you were lying because there was a different layer of him you were discovering every day and you hated it. you hated that he wasn’t as terrible as you initially thought he was. 
“Tell me more.” He demanded, slowly looming closer to you.
“I’m not flirting with you,” You clarified, “This isn’t some dirty talk.”
His face was disconcertingly close to you and even though you pretended the close proximity disgusted you, you didn’t move. “You’re right. This is better.” And for a moment, neither of you said something. “I never noticed your eyes were this pretty.” He could see you; the depths of your eyes illuminated beneath the light, each shadow accustomed to the shadows and darkness glistening on display for him. Small wrinkles creased by your eyes as you softly smiled, a tenderness reserved for him at that moment, and damn, he swore his breath was yanked from his lungs at the sight. “Don’t look at me like that.” He suddenly said.
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“The way you’re looking at me, it’s turning me on.”
Your expression transformed into disbelief before glancing down at his crotch, merely a few inches away. “Are you seriously hard right now?” 
He grinned shamelessly. “Can you blame me?” He asked brazenly. “Look at you.” Truth be told, if it was regarding you, it didn’t take much at all for him to get hard.
You refrained from expressing how much you like this. “It’s been less than fifteen minutes and you already have a boner. Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”
There wasn’t any hesitation as he answered. “Absolutely.”
You rolled your eyes. “Stop distracting me.” You pushed his head back again, closely examining inside. The bleeding had stopped and there didn’t appear to be any visible fractures. He would be okay with some ice. “So what were they even saying?” You asked, referring to moment that apparently started everything.
Eddie stiffened, hardly noticeable. “Doesn’t matter. I took care of it.”
“If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”
A moment passed and then another, and he didn’t answer. You were going to ask again in a much more demanding and firmer way when he suddenly sighed heavily. “They were making bets on who could fuck you first.” You could the admission burn his tongue like acrid poison.
Your breathing hitched as you processed his admittance. “You were defending me?” You quietly asked. This definitely made things worse for you. The reason he was starting fights, bruising his knuckles with dark redness and scrapes and scratches, was because they were talking about you. Eddie Munson was defending you in his own perverse way.
“Obviously. You’re not up for grabs. You’re mine.” The way he spoke with careless possession shook you to the core. It was as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And you supposed to him, it was.
Your walls were slowly tumbling and crashing down. Fix it, your brain screamed. “I’m not yours.”
He smirked and it was almost devilish. “Not yet.”
“Not ever.” You corrected, choosing to ignore the fire coursing through you.
That insolent smirk never dwindled. “I see you’re still pretending you aren’t madly in love with me.” He said with sweet amusement.
Any and all snarky remarks were stolen from you as his hand gently touched your thigh. So soft. So tender. Fucking fix it, your brain screamed. “I hate you.” Was all you could pathetically manage.
His touch was so simple, feather-light, but it left fire trails on your skin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t have let me cum for you.”
Another observation you couldn’t find a response for. “A mistake that’s never happening again.”
His hand moved upward, so slow you were restraining yourself from shoving his hand beneath your clothes. “You liked it. I know you did.” He said and you despised knowing this was nothing but the truth. He was confronting you, teasing you because you couldn’t deny it. If you really didn’t like watching him stain his clothes with cum, you wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. You would’ve punched him, reported him, done anything other than spread your legs and tease him. You didn’t like it, you loved it. “I bet you touched yourself when you got home.”
You did. You touched yourself with your fingers until they ached, came with muffled screams as you shoved your face into a pillow until your vibrator’s batteries died, and you even used your showerhead. Hearing him moan and whine like a pathetic boy was fucking filthy and you were soaking through your panties by the time you stepped inside your room.
He took your silence as admission. “Fuck, you really did, didn’t you?” He could feel the warmth radiating from beneath your skirt, teasing his fingertips. If he wasn’t hard enough earlier, he was now. He twitched beneath his jeans. “Sit on my lap.”
Don’t do it. “You’re delusional if you think I’m gonna—”
“Don’t be a fucking brat and sit on my lap.” Your brain was losing and you were thinking with your body—your body that was craving him like he was some addicting drug. Without another word, you slowly crawled to him and plopped down on his clothed thigh like you were always meant to be there. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. He was big and thick. His eyes closed for a second, processing what was happening. This was a slice of heaven served to him on a golden platter. “Get yourself off on my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.”
And just like that, any delusion you might’ve had that you were capable of turning him down, was flushed down the drain. “What?” You asked breathlessly. In that moment, he could’ve demanded you kiss his sneakers and you would’ve fluttered your eyelashes at him as you did so. 
He gripped your face with a firmness that might’ve made you whimper if you weren’t so shocked. He squeezed your cheeks with one hand, forcing your lips into a teasing pout. “Rub that pretty pussy on my thigh and make yourself cum.” He wasn’t asking. This was a demand he knew you were going to do for him.
You released a wavering breath as you began to move against him and you could hear your arousal clinging against his jeans. This was embarrassing. But not to him. He was probably sick enough to lick your juices from where you’d been rubbing. “Suck on my fingers and keep those pretty eyes open. Look at me, baby.” His fingers that weren’t tainted by his own blood were inside your mouth and you eagerly sucked, licking and kissing them as if they were his leaking cock. Your lips were flushed as you hollowed your cheeks and he watched you drooled on his fingers with heart eyes. “You are fucking beautiful. Let me see those pretty tits.”
There wasn’t any hesitation this time as you lifted your blouse, displaying your breasts and pinching yourself. Another twitch from his cock and he jerked his hips, earning a soft moan from you. “I could cum just by looking at them, pretty girl.”
You removed his fingers from your mouth. “Call me that again,” Your voice was soft, breathless, and laced with a vulnerability he’d never heard from you before. “Please.” Desperate. Needy.
The arrogant smirk on his pink lips was annoying and you wanted to sit on his face so you wouldn’t have to see it. “Aw, you like being called my pretty girl?” There wasn’t any thoughts floating within your mind. All you could think of was the liquid lava moving through your bloodstream as you rubbed your clit against his cock faster. You only nodded. “I thought you hated me? But look at you, drooling for my cock.”
It was pathetic because you were drooling. You were never going to hear the end of this. He slapped your cheek lightly, pleasantly stinging. His touch didn’t hurt, it never did, but it did get a message across. “Let me hear those pathetic sounds. You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you not make any noise.” He was going to memorize and repeat this moment for every time he spit in his hand and jerked himself off. He needed to hear you. He was losing his composure and there was another slap. “I’ve been wanting this for years so fucking moan and say my name.”
“O-Oh, my fucking God, this feels so fucking good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickening your pace. Your facade of disgust and hatred disappeared. “Fuck yes, Eddie!” His hands gripped your waist, fingers dipping into the skin of your ass, and he pushed you down harder against him. “Just like that. Just like that.”
His warm and erratic breaths brushed against your jaw. The softness of his lips kissing and sucking as he moaned against your skin. “Come on, baby, make me cum. You can do it, just keep rubbing that pussy on me. Give it to me.”
His mouth moved against your breasts, kitten-licking your peaked nipples before sucking. Something inside you snapped and there was nothing but blinding pleasure, strong enough to steal the moans and air from your throat as you chased your pleasure. Your eyes closed before there were smaller and quick slaps against your cheek. “Look at me when you cum.” His calloused hand slowly drifted to your throat, a firm and shaky grip.
His body twitched and squirmed beneath you as he whimpered against your chest, tongue swirling against your nipple and his hand squeezing the other. Your movements slowly came to a stop and he released your breast with a playful pop. 
His fingertips gently caressed the softness of your cheek, lingering a moment longer on each mark coloring her skin. You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand as you closed your eyes. You listened to the hard and quick patter of her heart, to each slow and deliberate breath of his, and the rustling of the leaves outside. And you swore if you listened closely enough, you would’ve heard the thumping beneath his chest. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” He whispered, a thought escaping his quivering mouth before he could even process his own voice. You ruined him, tore out his thumping heart with your manicured nails, and devastated him—a devastation he craved, needed like the blood coursing through his veins. He would’ve bruised his knees worshipping the floor you stepped on. You had undoubtedly ruined him and he couldn’t do anything about it but thank you.
In a daze, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed your glossed lips against his. He couldn’t breathe. You were kissing him, drunk from your orgasm, bare skin against his thick cock, and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He didn’t move. He didn’t kiss you back. At the lack of reciprocation, you pulled away.
The softness of your lips lingered on his, a ghostly remnant of a daydream he’s had for as long as he could remember. His eyes slowly fluttered open, shock swirling in the pools of darkness. His breathing hitched as he forced himself to breathe. Slow and steady. But he couldn’t because he swore he could almost still taste you. Outside, inside the community and neighborhoods of Hawkins, no one would’ve guessed Hawkin’s It-Girl kissed him, your sweet perfume entangled with his cheap cologne. That’s something nobody could’ve predicted, including himself. Well, and that you rode him until you made yourself and him cum.
Your hair cascaded across your skin as you tilted your head, trying to decipher the gleam in his eyes. Your lips were flushed as if you’d been gnawing on them, and you almost pouted at what you thought was rejection. Disappointment colored your expression and you scooted away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence of the room. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” You stood from him and straightened your clothes, readjusting them. “Let’s just forget about it.”
And you were out the door before he could explain that he literally couldn’t talk or function because his dream girl made him cum so hard he was seeing stars.
Shit.
Taglist — @eddiesguitarskills @twihard08 @twilight-love-nochu-main @names-were-taken @definitelynotecho @sidthedollface2
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sokoviansimp · 3 months
Text
Control
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✒ Pairings: dom!wanda x subAgent!femreader
✒ Summary: Tension builds when Wanda and Y/N, who hate each other, are sent on a mission with Y/N's best friend, Natasha, and her wife Maria. The mission doesn't exactly go to plan.
✒ Tags and Warnings: 18+! Mature themes, kidnapping, chemicals, hospital, bickering, enemies to lovers, slow burn
✒ Author's Note: not proofread, because I'm really high rn and want to get this out because it's been in my drafts for like a month but I've been so busy with moving, and working 2 jobs, and just life changes.
✒ Word Count: 9523
✒ Read Time: 24 minutes
Masterlist : Socials : Series Masterlist
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The dimly lit, high-tech briefing room at the SHIELD headquarters buzzed with anticipation. Agents of all kinds filled the seats, their eyes trained on the enormous screen at the front. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, stood at the head of the room, her signature poise and confidence emanating from her.
You sat nearby, attention locked onto the screen. You had earned your place among the elite Shield agents through sheer skill and determination, graduating early from the academy. Your sharp mind and lightning-quick reflexes made you one of the best in the business. 
Natasha, after glancing over to her wife, Maria, began the mission briefing. "Our intel suggests that a rogue group of Hydra operatives has obtained a dangerous chemical compound. We need to secure it before they can use it for any nefarious purposes. We’ll be sending a small team in to infiltrate, if all goes to plan we should be in and out within 2 days. Y/N, you’ll partner with Wanda, and Maria will come with me,” Wanda couldn’t help but roll her eyes and let out a small huff at being paired with you, “The tac team will meet us on day 2 by the south entrance to secure the base. Everyone clear?” Nat finished as she looked around the room to see a bunch of heads bobbing in confirmation. 
Once everyone had filed out, you and Wanda hung back to discuss infiltration plans with Maria and Natasha. Nat explained that the trek to get to the area undetected would take a day, you would sleep at a small cabin safe house on the outskirts of the forest, and then the next day you would stealthily breach the border to the Hydra base and seize control of the chemical before letting the tac team in to finish up. 
“Sounds like a plan, but why do y/n and I have to be partners on this?” Wanda added trying everything she could to get out of being stuck with you by her side. 
“Now, I know you two love to bicker, but we’re all adults here. I’m sure you two can push your differences aside for 2 days.” Natasha explained as she shot Wanda a pointed look. She knew the brunette had her grievances about you and, as much as Nat loved you, she also knew how annoying you could be on the surface, but you two were also the ones Nat trusted most, aside from her wife, to have her six.
“I don’t see that being a problem, do you Wanda?” you confirmed with a smug smirk on your face, knowing you would have ample time to get under Wanda’s skin. Bickering with the brunette was something you would never admit you actually enjoyed, but you did. You loved getting her going and sometimes you could even imagine the smoke blowing out of her ears from how much you drove her crazy. You found herself drawn to Wanda's reactions, the way her cheeks would flush with annoyance, or her lips would curl into a sly smile when she caught on to your teasing. You unknowingly reveled in the attention it garnered from Wanda.
Wanda’s gaze shifted back to the screen as her brows knit tightly together forming a slight furrow in the middle of her forehead, “Guess not, when do we leave” she asked tightly pressing her lips together.
“Wheels up in 30” Nat informed as everyone filed out to pack. 
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You leaned against a nearby table, eyeing Wanda as she adjusted her gear. "Wanda, are you sure you're ready for this mission? I mean, it's not as easy as manipulating some red energy."
Wanda shot you a withering look, her scarlet eyes flashing. "Not everything can be solved by punching first and asking questions later, Sprints. Some of us have to use our brains."
Wanda had given you the nickname, Sprints, one day when you were training in the compound with Nat. Shield agents don't typically train at the compound, but your close friendship with Natasha made you an exception. This day, you had been bragging about setting a new in-house record for the 100-meter dash.
You chuckled, unfazed. "Brains, huh? Well, I'm glad one of us has 'em."
Wanda smirked, her accent lacing her words with a hint of sarcasm. "And I'm glad one of us doesn't rely solely on brute force."
You couldn't resist a playful jab. "True, but at least when I hit something, it stays down. Can't say the same for your mind tricks."
Wanda's lips curled into a wry smile. "Wanna test that theory?" she said pointedly as she raised her hand and her magic swirled around in her fingertips. 
Just then, Nat entered breaking up the standoff between you and Wanda, “Knock it off you two, the jet is taking off in 5, get loaded up,” Nat instructed as she watched Wanda walk by you and slightly nudge your shoulder as you innocently raised your hands toward Natasha, “Now.” she said firmly causing you to scurry off with your bag in Wanda’s trail. 
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As the quin-jet roared to life, and with Nat and Maria both in the cockpit, you couldn't resist the urge to tease Wanda. You knew how to push the right buttons, and her playful, sometimes very real, annoyance was on full display.
You leaned across the narrow aisle, grinning mischievously at Wanda, who was quietly reading a book on her tablet. "Hey, Wanda," you began, your tone a touch too cheerful, "since we're going up against Hydra today, maybe you can use your mind tricks to make them forget they ever messed with us."
Wanda glanced at her with a bemused expression, clearly unimpressed. "Y/N, my powers don't work that way, and you know it."
Y/N pretended to ponder this for a moment, tapping her chin with a playful smirk. "Hmm, shame. It would've made our job so much easier. But hey, don't worry. I'm sure you'll find some other way to be useful."
Wanda sighed, shaking her head as she shifted her focus back to her book. She was clearly unamused by your antics.
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As the quin-jet touched down in a remote area, nearly 10 miles from their target location, the four of you gathered your gear and prepared to embark on your covert trek. The evening was closing in quickly and with the loss of the sun, it would start getting cold soon.
Natasha, the team leader, huddled the group together for a final briefing. "Remember, we need to reach the cabin undetected. This is a highly secured area, and any alert could jeopardize the mission. Y/N and Wanda, I need you two to put your differences aside and work together. Our success depends on it." 
Y/N exchanged a begrudging glance with Wanda but nodded in agreement. "Got it, Nat. I'll try not to annoy Wanda too much."
Wanda rolled her eyes but remained silent, her focus on the task at hand.
The team set out on their trek, moving silently through the dense forest, their footsteps muffled by the fallen leaves and underbrush. Y/N and Wanda found themselves side by side, each step of the way requiring them to cooperate and coordinate their movements to avoid detection.
Every now and then, an armored personnel carrier would drive by causing the team to utilize nearby ravines, trenches, and coves to avoid detection. At one point, they hid out in a culvert for a few minutes waiting for the oncoming trail of vehicles to pass. A crinkling sound eventually made its way to Wanda’s ears and her head snapped to you as you tore open a granola bar, “Really, is now the best time for that?” Wanda whispered, trying to keep quiet as she scolded you, “Oh yes, you do not want to see me when I’m hangry,” you quietly responded as Natasha hushed you both to keep quiet. 
Despite your earlier banter and rivalry, you and Wanda fell into a rhythm as you navigated the challenging terrain. You took point, your sharp instincts and knowledge of the wilderness guiding the path. Wanda, with her enhanced senses, scanned for any signs of danger or hidden threats.
As you moved deeper into the night, the initial tension between the two of you began to dissipate. You began communicating with subtle gestures and exchanged information about the terrain and possible obstacles. Gradually, a sense of unity began to form between you two, as you realized that your success truly depended on your ability to work together.
Hours passed, and the mission team finally arrived at the remote cabin where they would be staying for the night. Nat and Maria thoroughly cleared it to make sure there were no unexpected guests. Once it was clear, you and Wanda made your way in. The cabin was rustic, with only two bedrooms, and it quickly became apparent that accommodations would be tight.
Natasha and Maria, who were married, naturally gravitated toward one of the bedrooms and claimed it as their own. They exchanged a knowing look, then turned to the rest of the team.
Wanda, ever the enigmatic one, made her preferences clear with a cool, unwavering stare. "I'm not sharing a room with Y/N," she stated firmly.
Realizing the implications, you tried to defuse the situation. "No problem, Wanda. I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor. It's not a big deal."
But Natasha, always the pragmatic leader, stepped in. "Actually, it is a big deal. We need both of you at your best tomorrow. We can't afford any tension or lack of rest. You two are sharing the other bed, there’s plenty of room."
Wanda's lips formed a thin line of irritation, but Natasha's word was final. She begrudgingly agreed, her tone laced with annoyance. "Fine, but I'm taking the left side of the bed."
You nodded following Wanda to the other room, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Works for me, Wanda. I promise not to steal the covers."
With the sleeping arrangements decided, the team settled into their respective rooms, though the atmosphere in the second bedroom was palpably tense. You and Wanda each occupying your respective sides with a noticeable gap between. Tension hung in the air, and you both lay stiffly under the covers, each determined not to give an inch.
The initial discomfort led to a silent battle for the covers. Your fingers twitched slightly as you subtly attempted to pull the blanket your way. Wanda, sensing the movement, tightened her grip on the fabric. This quiet tug-of-war continued for a while, neither of you willing to relinquish control.
But as time passed, exhaustion began to take its toll. The temperature in the room dropped, and the comfort of the covers became increasingly irresistible. Unbeknownst to either of you, both of you gradually drifted into a fitful slumber, with both your subconscious minds seeking warmth and comfort.
In the dead of night, your bodies shifted ever so slightly. In your sleep, you unconsciously turned toward Wanda, your back now touching Wanda's side. Wanda, still asleep, feeling the unexpected contact, hesitated for a moment but soon found herself subconsciously gravitating closer to your warmth.
Your movements continued to synchronize in the depths of sleep. Slowly but surely, the gap between you vanished as you instinctively nestled into each other. Your arm draped over Wanda's waist, and Wanda's head nestled into the crook of your neck. The covers you had fought over earlier now cocooning you both, providing warmth and security.
Though you had started the night as adversaries, the quiet intimacy of your subconscious movements told a different story. In the stillness of the cabin, with the moonlight filtering through the curtains, you and Wanda had found an unexpected source of comfort in each other's presence. It was as if you two were pieces in a puzzle that fit perfectly with one another as your exhaustion-riddled bodies melded together after a long day. 
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The morning sun filtered through the cabin's curtains, casting a warm and gentle glow across the room. As you and Wanda began to stir, you each gradually became aware of your compromising position. Your bodies were entangled, limbs intertwined, and faces mere inches apart.
For a brief moment, your eyes fluttered open and met Wanda’s gaze, your heartbeat picked up nearly drowning out any source of sound for you as your cheeks reddened, you knew you should want to move, should be upset, but you froze like a deer in headlights, like if you stayed still then she wouldn’t notice and would stay as well. For a moment, you enjoyed the comfort of the witch’s grasp. That was quickly replaced by your mutual disdain from the previous night as the tension resurfaced with the disgusted look Wanda shot over to you. You locked eyes, both startled by the proximity and the realization of how closely you had been clinging to each other in your sleep.
Wanda quickly pulled away, her cheeks coloring slightly with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. She shifted to her side of the bed and cleared her throat, avoiding your gaze. "This is... not how I expected to wake up."
Equally flustered, you hastily withdrew your arm and adjusted your position to sit on the edge of the bed, cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yeah, well, it's not exactly my ideal morning either."
The tension that had momentarily dissipated during the night returned in full force. Both of you were acutely aware of the compromising position you had awoken in, and it only served to highlight your ongoing rivalry and mutual discomfort.
As you both jumped to get out of bed and prepared for the day ahead, your distaste for each other remained palpable. The events of the night had not erased your differences or any of the underlying tension, and you were both eager to put some distance between each other and the uncomfortable intimacy you had experienced in your sleep. Was it really uncomfortable though? You couldn’t deny, it was the best you had slept in weeks. No, it was. Just remembering the look of pure disgust on Wanda’s face puts the bad taste right back in your mouth.
“You two are up early, figured I’d have to come in clanging some pans the way you two like to sleep in.” Nat teased as you and Wanda entered the kitchen, “How’d you sleep?” 
“Goo-” you began but were cut off but the louder brunette beside you, “TERRIBLE” she groaned in response, not wanting to re-live what she woke up to. 
Nat glanced at Y/N knowingly, “What was that, Y/N?” she continued to tease as she poured the coffee that she had just made into 2 mugs in front of her for each of you. 
“Yea, grossly bad. Just- what she said” you stammered to get out, trying to remember what exactly was so bad about it. Then you remembered the look on Wanda’s face full of disgust again, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty that she felt that way toward you. 
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Once you were all geared up and ready to leave the cabin, Natasha went over the plan one more time before you all stealthily headed back out into the forest. The weak spot that you were looking to infiltrate was about 5 miles from the cabin and you thanked whatever gods may exist that it wasn't winter yet. The air was cold against your cheeks, enough to tinge them a slight red from the wind burn, but not so frigid that you were shivering or unable to focus. 
Wanda, on the other hand, curled in on herself any chance she could in order to keep warm and ward off the shivers that threatened to take over her body. As you were waiting in another culvert for a line of trucks to pass by, you noticed from the way Wanda was curled up that she was struggling. Knowing you could survive without the jacket you were wearing, you went to offer it to the witch, “Cold?” you whispered softly and placed your hand on her shoulder to get her attention from behind. 
Her eyes snapped over to meet your gaze and she pulled her arm away from your touch like you were a deadly disease, “I’m fine,” she whispered back icy and dismissive, making a mental note to hide her discomfort better. Her disgust for you was clear, little did she know, you were only trying to help.
Taken aback by her response, your initial concern became clouded with frustration. All you wanted to do was see her light up in your direction and yet everything you did caused her to hate you more. If she’s going to act this way, may as well give her a reason. Two can play this game, “Oh right, I forgot you’re made of tougher skin than the rest of us peasants,” you mocked, keeping your tone low so as to not give up your position. 
The look that Wanda shot back your way sent shivers down your spine, “Should’ve come more prepared, like me,” you say flaunting your jacket and digging the metaphorical knife deeper as Nat waved an ‘all clear’ signal.
“There it is,” Wanda snapped back at you,  “every chance you get to be a coc-“ Natasha cut Wanda off, silencing her, before she could finish her point.
You caught Wanda’s gaze as it happened and pointed at your ears tauntingly. Her jaw tightened and her anger brewed as she continued to move through the culvert, following Nat and Maria’s lead.
As the team made its way out of the culvert and trekked along the route, you noticed Wanda was no longer shivering, all the pent-up anger toward you providing her warmth that would last at least a couple of minutes as you smirked to yourself.
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Once inside, Natasha and Maria took point in clearing a path and disabling guards with precision and stealth. You and Wanda had been tasked with obtaining the chemical agent that had been noted on the radar. The crucial task brought you both further into the facility, and as much as you each had trouble being in one another’s presence, you put your differences aside to work well as a team.
As you moved deeper into enemy territory, you settled back into the unspoken language of signals you had used the previous day together. Wanda was easily able to disable the camera feeds with her telekinesis while you took out any remaining guards and covered your tracks.
Soon enough, you both came to a secure-looking door, its lock was intricate and seemed heavily fortified with barometric readings and sensors. Without hesitation, Wanda focused her energy on the lock’s mechanism, using her powers to manipulate the gears and pins. You had her back, keeping watch on the corrodor, as she fell vulnerable to an attack from behind with her mind focused elsewhere.
A stray guard came out of a room down the hall making his way in your direction as he began to yell and pull out his gun, “Don’t lose focus Wanda, I got your back,” you assured her as you swiftly disabled the guard. As much as Wanda may hate you, she knew deep down that she could trust you and kept her focus on the door.
Once you settled back beside Wanda, you couldn’t help but let out a snarky comment as she was otherwise engaged with her powers, “You know, Wanda, it’s almost like having magic hands comes in handy on a mission like this,” 
Wanda shot you a side-eye glance with just a hint of a smirk on her lips, “Oh, so now you like my powers, huh?”
Grinning, you responded, “Let’s just say, I’m starting to see the perks.”
With that, Wanda was finally able to get the door lock to yield to her magic and open up. With the granted entry, you both slipped into the room beyond, only to be met with dozens of eyes from scientists working in the lab you just entered, “What’s up fellas, I heard you’ve been playing with a new toy,”
The scientists, startled by the sudden intrusion, immediately recognized the threat and reacted swiftly. They shouted in alarm as you charged at them causing one of them to activate a security alarm, triggering a set of reinforced doors to slam shut, attempting to neutralize the largest threat they saw, Wanda.
Before she could react, you pushed her out of the way, finding yourself locked inside a sealed chamber, cut off from Wanda and the rest of the room. Panic coursed through your veins as you realized the predicament. Seeing that you’re in no position to look out for Wanda any longer, you began pounding on the glass door, shouting for her to get out, but the scientists weren’t done quite yet.
In a desperate bid to incapacitate you, originally Wanda, and prevent any further interference, one of the scientists had activated an aerosol dispenser in the sealed chamber. A fine mist of the chemical agent you had been tasked with retrieving filled the air around you. All you could do was gasp as the toxic substance began to take effect. Desperately trying to hold your breath and shield yourself from exposure, your focus shifted from escape to self-preservation. Your skin became overrun with a dark crystalized rash, similar to obsidian growing like a vine on the side of an unkept building, scaling up and down your arms as it spread out. 
On the other side of the sealed door, Wanda fought to free you from your captors, her powers surging as she attempted to disable the security measures and reach you as quickly as possible. She knew the amount of time it would take her to break through the mechanism would be fatal for you, so she desperately took to screaming at the scientists to unlock the door and sending a wave of magic knocking them against the wall when they wouldn't cooperate. The scientists, however, were determined to keep you separated and eliminate the threat they posed to their operation. The mission had taken a treacherous turn, and you were left alone in a race against time to survive the effects of the chemical while Wanda fought desperately to save you. 
As the seconds flew by, your vision grew hazy and Wanda knew you were reaching critical condition as the rash spread to your face. When brute force failed, she surged into the minds of the scientists standing before her to figure out how to disable the chamber. Once she was deep enough within their mind to bend their bodies to her will, she was finally able to free you.
As soon as the doors opened to allow Wanda to reach you, she rushed in without a second thought, her magic almost working subconsciously to move whatever was left of the chemical in the air. You laid on the floor hanging onto any bit of consciousness you could grasp onto as you faded in and out, just hoping to make it out alive. 
The witch scooped you up and darted for the exit, “Nat, we have an emergency situation here. Need medical evac NOW!” Wanda said over the comms. Her sprint turned into a quick glide through the air as she found it easier and quicker to let her magic take you both through the base and toward the exit. 
“Roger that, contacted HQ for the tac team and medical. 10 minutes out.” Nat responded, “What hap-” 
“Fuck- 10 minutes? I don’t know if she has that long,” Wanda responded with worry, as she looked down at you shaking in pain as you drifted in and out of awareness, “Y/N, hey look at me, can you hear me?” Wanda spoke gently but with urgency, as you met her gaze briefly before your eyes rolled back slightly in a blur, “Medical is on the way, you just need to hold out for 10 minutes, I’m going to get you there, just- hang on” Wanda stated as her grip on you tightened and her magic quickened in pace. 
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Within minutes, Wanda met up with a medical team that arrived on the scene. They assessed your condition and quickly realized the severity of the situation. You were unconscious, struggling to breathe, and not only displaying signs of chemical poisoning but also a rash they had never seen before.
Working together, Wanda and the medical team carefully stabilized your condition as best they could on-site. They administered oxygen and provided preliminary treatment to counteract the effects of the chemical agent.
Recognizing the urgency of the situation, the medical team made the critical decision to transfer you to a nearby hospital equipped to handle chemical exposure cases. They carefully loaded you onto a gurney and rushed you onto an awaiting helicopter.
During the tense journey to the hospital, Wanda rode alongside you holding her hand and offering silent reassurance, while Nat and Maria stayed back to work with the tactical team. The situation remained dire, but they were doing everything they could to give you the best chance of survival.
At the hospital, a team of specialized medical professionals took over your care, working tirelessly to detoxify your system and stabilize your condition. The chemical exposure had taken a toll on your body, and even after all this time, your prognosis remained uncertain.
Wanda, exhausted and fraught with worry, refused to leave your side. As if every reason she had to hate you flew out the window, she was determined to stand by her partner throughout this ordeal, hoping and praying for your recovery. 
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Wanda was pulled from her spiraling thoughts in the waiting room as she heard a nurse utter, “She’s stable,” in a very neutral tone, so neutral that maWanda was unsure if it was actually good news, “but she’s not out of the woods yet.” she warned as she motioned for Wanda to follow her in to be by your side once again. 
The brunette stood to follow, “Is she awake?” 
The nurse shook her head, mentioning that she doesn’t expect you to wake up for at least 12 hours. They needed to ensure that your body has flushed out the toxin before allowing it to exert any more energy. 
Wanda took the seat by your bed and notified Natasha of the situation. She was hopeful, knowing you're a fighter, and Wanda tried to be optimistic as well, “It should��ve been me, Nat,” Wanda stated full of guilt and regret. Nat did her best to assure Wanda that she would’ve done the same and your situation was in no way her fault. Deep down, she wonders if she actually would’ve done the same. 
“You better wake up, Sprints, or I swear. How dare y- why do you have to be the best at everything?” She sighed as her body trembled and a tear spilled from her eyelid.
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After two long and agonizing days of unconsciousness, you finally began to stir in the hospital bed. Your vision was hazy at first, and you struggled to regain full awareness but as your senses gradually sharpened, you slowly became aware of the sterile hospital room that surrounded you.
The first thing you noticed was Wanda, sitting by your bedside. As your eyes met Wanda’s, your heart skipped a beat, you could see her gaze filled with a mixture of concern and relief. It was unlike her, but you couldn't help but smile weakly, your voice hoarse as you croaked out a greeting. "Hey there."
Wanda's expression softened, and she reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. "You're awake," she replied, her relief evident in her voice until it starkly changed to anger, almost like a mask, “Don't ever do that again!” she warned, brows furrowing.
“Wow, not even a thank you.” you teased as Wanda bit back to reiterate, “I’m serious y/n, I could’ve protected myself.”
“Yeah, but I protected us both,” you snarkily replied letting the brunette build up steam as you dug further.
“Protected? You almost got yourself killed, for nothing! God you're insufferable!” she exclaimed, not even wanting to be in the room with you anymore. Remembering just how annoying it is to even hold a conversation with you.
“Didn’t realize you cared,” 
As your eyes continued to scan the room, you spotted Natasha and Maria entering the room with a tray of coffee and snacks, “Coffee anyone? Oh Y/N, you're awake!” 
You smiled in response as Nat took the coffee from her wife with a smile, letting the tension built between you and Wanda disipate as they took over the conversation. 
“You gave us quite the scare there, y/n,” Nat noted, as much as she worried for you, she knew you were a fighter with the best medical team in the country. 
“Aw, you were worried?” You teased, knowing Nat to always keep a stone cold exterior to most, only letting ones that she was close to, like you, really get to see her emotions. 
“Not one bit,” she lied and everyone in the room knew.
As Nat and Maria took over the conversation, Wanda sat there brewing. Not only could she not understand the emotions she was feeling for you, but they just kept brewing as he sat in silence. Anger, relief, annoyance, worry, it all swam around in a confusion pool of questions. Her abrupt departure was without a word and you looked to Nat as she left, “Guess she’s tapped out on me for the day,”
Nat knew that you and Wanda had a rocky relationship but she felt that the brunettes behavior was quite uncalled for given the circumstances, “mm, I’ll talk to her,” Nat hummed as she got up to leave the room in pursuit of Wanda.
“And then there were two,” you joked with Maria. 
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Nat found Wanda in the hallway walking toward the exit of the hospital, she was headed back to the cabin as that’s where the 3 of them have been staying while you were stuck in a foreign hospital until you were ready to be transferred back to New York, “What the fuck was that?” Nat aggressively shouted in Wanda’s direction. 
Wanda quickly snapped her head around to the familiar voice, eyes landing on the angry Russian, “Not now Nat, please.” She dismissed as she stayed on her path. 
“No, Wanda, you don’t get to pick and choose. Y/N was practically on her deathbed to save you and this is how you want to act? What’s so terrible that you can’t even spend more than 5 minutes with her?”
“I didn’t need her to save me, she just made it all even more,” Wanda paused before bursting out, “DIFFICULT!” 
Nat could tell this was about more than just getting you to safety after the mission. She knew Wanda had dealt with a lot and always had a hard time getting her emotions in check. Instead of pressing further, she decided to switch up the metaphorical cards in her hands, “well all she wanted was to make sure you were safe.” With that, Nat turned to head back to your room. Wanda stood there watching her walk away, knowing she was right.
Before Wanda could decide what to do next the ground began to shake. It was subtle at first but soon, the items lining the walls and the structure of the building began to tremble along with it. Nat turned back to Wanda, who was still standing behind her, “Is that you?” She raised her brow, knowing the answer would be no, but hoping that it was by chance as that would make their job much easier. 
Wanda shook her head, confusion written all over her face as Nat turned again in the direction of your room in a full sprint, Wanda following Nat’s lead closely behind. Nat easily put the pieces together that the chemical agent you were exposed to would have effects that they could not predict. 
When they made it to your room, they were met with Maria trying to calm you down as you shook and writhed on the bed in pain. Your skin felt like it had just been dipped in lava causing your temperature to rise so much that you could visibly see a slight red tint on your face. Inside was arguably even worse as the uncontrollable shivers caused you to feel lightheaded and nauseous. 
Nat tried calling for a doctor through the hallways as the building began shaking even more. The worse your condition became, the more aggravated the building shook. They had to do something before the hospital filled with hundreds of innocent people became rubble. Wanda came to the side of your bed opposite Maria, shock prominent on her features as she watched you squirm, not knowing how to help. 
Maria could tell that Wanda was struggling with how to help, honestly, she didn't know exactly what to do either, but she did know that they had to get the building to stop shaking, and she was sure with Wanda’s magic, they would be able to help you somehow, “We have to neutralize the seismic waves emitting from her somehow,” Maria told Wanda as she kept her eyes on you, trying to figure out a solution. 
With that, Wanda was snapped out of the frozen state she was in as her eyes lit up red and she dove into your mind, trying to get answers. Near instantly her body began to tremble as a whimper fell from her mouth at the pain that radiated from you, “Y/N you have to calm down, the whole building is about to collapse”
“I’m not doing anything,” your thoughts fighting to make sense of the situation, “I-I can't control it! H-HURTS!”
Wanda’s balance faltered as the building’s shaking became more intense, her grip on the railing of your hospital bed tightened, and it became clear to her that her best option was to sedate you. She reached her hands toward your temple and let the red tendrils of her magic flow freely toward your skin as they rooted themselves within your mind. Taking hold and lulling you into a calm state of peaceful sleep. Slowly but surely, the building stood still again and soon after, a doctor came in to assess the situation. 
“About time,” Natasha spat with clear irritation towards the doctor.
Wanda, felt a growing unease as Dr. Scholt entered the room. His icy, judgmental gaze fell onto you as he began to examine your medical chart and machines. It was clear to Wanda that his discomfort with powered individuals was not something he could easily hide.
Ignoring Nat’s comment, Dr. Scholt made his way over to assess your condition eventually swaying from their original plan of keeping you until you were stable enough to be transferred, “I've seen too many of their kind, causing nothing but chaos and destruction. We don't have the resources to deal with creatures like this in our hospitals,” unaware that one of the most powerful enhanced individuals was standing right beside him, his disdain for you was clear with his tone and judgmental words. 
With a mixture of anger and concern, Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and her voice carried a hint of impatience as she retorted, "We're here because we need medical assistance, Doctor, not a lecture. Y/N's condition is the priority, and I expect her to receive the same care as any other patient. Your personal opinions have no place in a hospital room."
Before the doctor had the chance to respond, Wanda cut in, “No, it’s fine. He made his stance awfully clear,” she quarreled with a head tilt toward the doctor before turning back to Natasha, “We’ll take it from here,” 
“Great, I’ll get her prepped for transport,” the doctor mentioned as he attempted to grab sedatives to administer to you for the ride. However, Wanda wasn’t going to let him or his team lay another finger on you after the display he just made, knowing even from his thoughts, that his ill intentions may get the better of him. 
Before he left the room, Wanda caught his attention, “Maybe I wasn’t clear, Adam,” refusing to use his doctorate title, “we will take it from here.” she precisely articulated in a sharp manner, “Our transport team is on the way, You and your team are not to lay another finger on Agent y/l/n. Are we clear?” she flared, starring daggers into his soul. 
“How do you know my name?” he bit back as if that was the most important thing that Wanda said. 
“Are we clear?” Wanda repeated, without any explanation for the extra information. The doctor quickly took the hint as he nodded and scurried out of the room.
Wanda’s gaze shifted to meet Nat’s gaze who stood by the door as she watched the doctor walk past her to leave the room, “All that for someone you hate, can’t imagine what you're like when you actually like somebody,” she teased. 
“I don’t hate her,” Wanda defended as she tried to hide the growing smirk on her face, “She’s just the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” she added to keep her position on you clear and she couldn’t have anyone thinking she likes you in the slightest, “But he wanted to do more to her than prep her for transport,” She informed the two other agents that stood with her in the room around your bed. 
“Well, Y/N’s lucky to have you in her corner, once Fury hears about this, Mr. Sholt can kiss his doctorate goodbye,” Maria reassured as she took a seat beside your bed to wait for the transport team to arrive in a couple hours. 
Once SHIELD’S medical team arrived, they administered sedatives to keep you unconscious during the flight and prepared you for the jet before you woke up. Wanda was instructed to be by your side as an extra precaution, in case you somehow woke up or your unhinged powers started going haywire in your sleep. 
The ride back was tame with no real issues, at one point Wanda could sense your consciousness creeping back in but she was able to quickly lull you back to comatose with her magic. Once the jet landed, they quickly got you set up in the med bay at the compound in Upstate New York. This was not typical protocol for the team. Since you were not an Avenger and merely a Shield agent, proper protocol would be to take you to the medical facilities at SHIELD headquarters. Natasha wouldn’t allow that to happen though, under her authority, she made sure you were overseen by the best team available and close enough to keep watch on.
In a matter of hours, the team ran all the tests they deemed necessary, concluding that the chemicals you came into contact with ignited something that laid dormant in your DNA. The gene acted as a sponge for the toxins, without it, the poison would’ve continued to spread and shut down every part of your body slowly and painfully. Instead, the contagion was absorbed into the gene strand, which was subsequently sent into its next phase. Without the toxin, this gene could’ve laid dormant within you forever, instead, it entered a new stage, triggering your new abilities. 
“Was anyone else in contact with this chemical?” Dr Cho asked out of an abundance of caution, knowing that if they had been, they probably wouldn’t be in such good condition.
Nat looked to Wanda for a response, knowing she was the one in the room with you when it was released. Wanda’s gaze fell to the floor for a brief second before she began, “No, they meant to expose me but Y/N pushed me out of the way,” Wanda explained as she recalled the events from a couple of days prior. 
Dr. Cho nodded slightly in acknowledgment before responding “It’s a good thing Y/N was the one affected by this in all honesty. Without running tests, there’s no way to know whether the rest of the team has the gene structure to survive such an attack. She got real lucky,” Dr. Cho explained as she went over the results of the tests. 
Wanda struggled with this internally. Part of her was thankful things unfolded the way they did because if they hadn't the situation could've been a lot worse, but the other part twisted it to figure that you must have just been trying to 1-up her. You never do anything nice without something in it for yourself, at least in her eyes. This wasn’t anything new when it came to the way she thought about you. It was often that your intentions were competitive and came off abrasive, but she tended to use that model of thought for anything you did in her presence. Shaking every bit of sincerity off for a hidden agenda, and refusing to see any good in you. Deep down, maybe she didn’t want to see the good in you, it was so much easier to be closed off. Afraid that once she starts to unravel you, she’ll have no more walls to hide behind. No more armor to keep her from falling for you, to keep her safe from the pain she’s always known to follow. So, she doesn't think too deeply about it, instead, she lets her thoughts protect her. 
It was easier for her to paint you as an asshole than to deal with the mixed emotions she felt for you. Blaming everything on your lack of empathy acted almost as a shield for her, enabling her to bury other emotions so deep that she could forget about them. After replaying the events over and over in her head on a loop, she was able to spin the story in her head and concluded that you must’ve known about your genetics. You had to go through genetic testing to be a field operative with such high clearance, surely that’s how you knew. So the only reason you even pushed her out of the way was to look like the hero, to make it look like she needed saving, knowing full well you’d make it out just fine. Ugh, you’re the worst. 
With that, it was like a switch in Wanda flipped. As if her emotions were immediately shut off, she stopped visiting you at the medbay and was happy to go about her daily life without a care in the world of your condition. 
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You spent the next few weeks recovering. Natasha was by your side every step of the way, acutely aware of who visited you and who didn’t. Wanda never did. Tony came by a few times, you two weren't very close but he felt the need to show face at least. With nothing much to talk about, Tony always defaulted to talking about work when he was nervous. He didn’t find himself in too many situations without anything to say, but when he did, he attempted to claim the room with his confidence as he always had in his career. Almost as a nervous tik, he defaulted to talking about things that he knew a great deal about, even if the people around him didn’t. 
To his surprise, you were easily able to keep up with his shop talk jargon and follow along with the schematics he propped open as examples. The two of you quickly began bonding over your love for science and math. Nat noticed the uptick in visits from Stark and was happy to see you making more connections with the people she called family. 
Some of the other Avengers made their way down to the medbay as well after Nick encouraged it in a meeting. He knew how good of an agent you were, following your progress ever since word spread about you during your time at SHIELD Academy. It was practically unheard of for an Agent to graduate early, only 2 had ever done it before you. Since then, he made sure to check up on your progress every few months, hoping you’d grow into a top agent so he could use you on one of his special teams. With your new onset of abilities, he figured that eventually, you’d fit right in as a new addition to the Avengers. 
Fury rarely leaves anything to chance though, including your development. In order to get you comfortable with your newfound abilities, you’d need a mentor. Someone who has gone through a transition like yours before. After giving it some thought, there was only one other person on the team who could relate to you in that sense. 
Thor, while he did have to prove he was worthy to his father and himself in order to unlock his full potential, his powers always belonged to him. There was nothing unexpected or confusing about it. He has always wielded his power with knowledge and confidence. Similarly, Steve’s transition was also foreseen and he was able to quickly and seamlessly get a hold of his powers. 
Bruce on the other hand, still struggles to keep the beast inside of him under control. While he may be able to relate to the situation you’re currently experiencing, he wouldn’t be the right fit to mentor you with the way he is still trying to figure things out for himself. 
It was clear that Wanda could relate to your situation most closely. While she may have volunteered in the experiments carried out by Hydra, the outcome was something she never could’ve expected. For a while, she struggled to come to terms with what her body was capable of. Fearing that she would lose control and hurt someone unintentionally, and deep down the fear always lingers, but she has learned how to control it; and while she may not believe it herself, her team trusts her and her ability to keep her powers in check. 
Fury knew the two of you were far from besties, but he hoped this mentorship could double as a bonding experience to help get you more acclimated to the team. Wanda would need to get used to you being around more often, whether she was okay with it or not, he hoped this could help nudge her in the direction of welcoming the transition. 
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“No. Not a chance in hell.” Wanda argued as she stood from the chair opposite Fury in his office. Nick didn’t offer a reaction, instead, he kept his face neutral and waited for Wanda to come to terms with the arrangement. 
Noticing that Fury was not giving in, Wanda broke the silence to add, “Why me? I have nothing to teach her, she’s insufferable. This seems like more of a Rodger’s job.”
“The arrangement isn’t negotiable, Maximoff. Y/N has a lot to learn from you and I’m sure you’ll be a great teacher once she’s back on her feet.” Wanda scoffed, anger beating off her, as she went to leave the meeting.
“Oh, one more thing,” Nick added causing the brunette to pause and turn by the door, “Y/N will not know about this arrangement of ours, and I intend to keep it that way, are we clear?” without giving a clear response, Wanda rolled her eyes and stormed off to the gym, wanting to let her anger out on something meant to be hit before she ended up taking it out on the nearest wall.. “Oh, and I expect an influx of visits from you to the medbay!” He shouted towards her retreating form down the hall.
Straight from Fury’s office, she stormed into the gym with a palpable aura of frustration and anger. Her usually calm and composed demeanor had given way to an agitated energy that practically crackled in the air around her.
Nat, who happened to be in the gym working on her own training routine, turned her head as she sensed Wanda's arrival. The room seemed to darken with Wanda's stormy presence, and Natasha knew that something had clearly set her off.
Wanda didn't waste a moment. She approached one of the punching bags, her eyes flashing with a mix of determination and anger. Without saying a word, she unleashed a series of powerful punches and kicks that sent the heavy bag swinging wildly.
Wanda's frustration reverberated through the gym as she relentlessly pummeled the punching bag, each strike carrying the weight of her annoyance. The ferocity of her strikes was a clear indication of her irritation. Natasha, noticing the intensity of Wanda's training session, decided it was time to address the obvious tension. Wanda's training strikes were powerful and precise, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil.
Once Nat felt that Wanda had gotten out her initial anger, she approached her friend cautiously, waiting for a break in the flurry of punches before speaking. She knew better than anyone that sometimes words were not enough, and physical exertion was the only way to cope with intense emotions, "Wanda, what's going on?" Natasha asked, her tone laced with concern as she held the opposite side of the punching bag sturdy for Wanda to continue laying on punches.
“Fury.” She growled, “He wants me to.” *PUNCH* “mentor y/n” *PUNCH* “he won’t let” *PUNCH* “Steve do it.” *PUNCH* “He wouldn’t listen” *PUNCH* “ugh!” the punching finally stopped as she left a hand on the punching bag for balance while she caught her breath.
Natasha peeked around the bag that she held steady for Wanda to give her opinion, trying to approach with caution, knowing Wanda wouldn't like what she had to say. 
Natasha didn’t know what triggered it, but she noticed the stark change in the way Wanda went from caring about you in the foreign hospital to completely shutting herself off from you as soon as you got back to New York. 
Nat took a step back from the bag to gather her thoughts, “Let me get this straight, you’re throwing a fit because the girl who just saved your life is going through life-changing trauma right now and Fury is asking you to help her through it because you have experience and have been through a similar situation?” with one eyebrow slightly raised, she shot Wanda a pointed glare. 
With her frustration rebuilding as she processed Nat’s words, Wanda pushed the bag away and turned toward the door, “Oh, here we go again. Poor Y/N she’s always the victim,” Wanda marched toward the door, not wanting to hear another person defend you. In her eyes, you were conniving and everything you did was calculated, other people just couldn't see past your charm to expose how much you actually tormented her. They couldn’t see how she was so clearly the victim in this circumstance. They couldn't see how twisted you made everything. She could though, she saw right through you. 
Nat wasn’t letting her get off that easy. She chased after the brunette trying to storm out and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to be face to face. Against her own desire, Wanda’s feet stayed planted to see what Nat had to say. 
“Are you serious? You two may not be friends, but she saved your fucking life. She was there for you, the least you could do is offer her some support and show a sliver of gratitude! You need to take a good hard look at yourself, this isn’t the Wanda I know.” Nat scolded 
Seething, Wanda bit back through gritted teeth, “I didn’t ask her to.” without giving Natasha the opportunity to speak, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the gym. 
Natasha stood there nearly dumbfounded, wondering what had gotten into Wanda to make her so heartless and cruel towards you. 
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From the gym, instead of wallowing alone in her room, Wanda decides to leave the compound for a walk around the grounds. As she walked alone with her own thoughts, she desperately tried to calm the anger within. Spending more time with you was the last thing she wanted to do, especially after coming to the conclusion that your heroic act was just a ruse. 
As she strolled, she went through countless scenarios for ways that she could get out of this whole situation. There wasn’t a single one that she thought was good enough to change Fury’s mind. 
What if I broke my hand? No, I'm sure he’d still make me teach her. What if the compound mysteriously caught fire? That would probably only delay things. What if there was an Avenger’s level threat? He’d probably just make me do it when I got back. What if I became evil and left the Avengers to take over the world or something? That could work, though it’s a bit dramatic and I don't even want to take over the world.
Knowing that Nat was on your side about this already told her that everyone else at the compound would share Fury’s opinion. Out of the whole team, Nat was the one most likely to take Wanda’s side for anything. She always knew that if Natasha’s opinion differed on a subject, the others were bound to as well.
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Wanda took the rest of the day to decompress and attempt to accept that she’d have to mentor you. The next day during breakfast, she heard Tony and Thor mention they’d be visiting you once they finished their meal. Knowing she’d have to see you eventually, Wanda’s ears perked at the opportunity to tag along and not go alone, “Can I come?” Wanda’s eagerness came as a shock to the two men sitting across the counter from her, but also to everyone else within earshot who wasn’t involved in the conversation. 
“Come to see y/n?” Tony clarified, not sure if Wanda had heard them correctly but she nodded in confirmation, “ye- yea of course.” he confirmed, surprised Wanda had any interest in visiting you.
The hum of medical equipment filled the medbay as Tony and Thor entered, their presence bringing a dynamic shift to the room. You were still in the process of recovery, looking up with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as the two Avengers approached and Wanda trailed behind. She didn’t say anything as the two of them greeted you, and instead, she took the furthest seat in the room from your bed. 
Tony, always one for theatrics, struck a dramatic pose. "Fear not, citizens! Iron Man and the God of Thunder have arrived to grace you with our formidable presence."
Thor chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Indeed! We heard tell of a valiant warrior in need of cheering, and so we have descended."
You couldn't help but smile at their playful entrance, a welcome distraction from the monotony of the medbay. However, as the three of you continued the banter, Wanda lingered at the periphery, sitting leaned back with her arms crossed and a subtle expression of indifference on her face.
Not letting her get away with sneaking in unnoticed, you broke the silence that lingered between the two of you, “Wasn’t expecting you to be here, Wanda. Did someone force you to be here or something?” You saw right through her, but before she could lie through gritted teeth and say that she was there of her own volition, Tony spoke up instead, “Believe it or not, she actually asked us to come,” Tony defended. 
Riding along Tony’s explanation, Wanda forced a smile to sell it. She was grateful that he had beat her to it, she was never much good at lying. You weren’t fully convinced that there wasn’t some underlying explanation for her presence but you accepted it with an impressed look on your face, “Wow, no hidden agenda?”
“Actually there is one,” Wanda clarified as she began to explain, “I’m going to mentor you.”
“Mentor?” You were taken aback. Why was Wanda suddenly interested in mentoring you and what made her think you wanted to be her mentee?
“Yeap, we’ve both been through similar experiences and you have a lot to learn about controlling your new powers,” she added with passive aggressiveness dripping from her words. 
You wanted to question her further, but you also didn’t want to push her to rescind her offer. Truthfully, you were kind of excited at the thought of Wanda teaching you how to wield your newfound abilities. You knew that she went through a similar situation while she was with Hydra and the thought of spending more time with her, though you would never admit it, made you excited, “oh- okay.” you accepted. 
Wanda expected more of a fight with you about this but was relieved to get it over with easily.
“How exciting,” Thor announced, “I know a thing or two about using powers myself if you need help or anything.”
“I’ll be sure to give you a call if I find a magical hammer,” you teased making the other two chuckle. 
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