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hauntedfalcon · 3 years

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living in midnight

for day four of Nile Freeman Week: "Nile & Struggle" plus a fantasy AU in which superheroes exist, Nile isn't one of them, and she doesn't let that stop her. 1700 words, rated M for swearing. content warning for wounds and needles because it's Nile's turn for sapphic patching up, as a treat

the title is from Lianne La Havas’s “Midnight”. many thanks to @flightsofwonder for beta reading <3

read on AO3 or below

Nile opens her eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. There is an unfamiliar pillow under her head, and she is recumbent on an unfamiliar sofa. Above it is a window, where streetlights reflect in the sinuous trails of raindrops.

Rain. Knives. Three attackers. She fought like hell, might have broken someone’s arm, but they landed one good hit. They left her for dead in an alley. She watched her own blood run into a puddle.

She bolts upright--and hisses when a wave of agony breaks over her, starting in her abdomen and shooting everywhere.

“Please don’t move,” says a softly accented voice. “You’re safe here. I haven’t seen your face.”

Nile collapses back down to the pillow and touches her face, just to be sure. Her mask is still in place. She drops her hand and forces one eye open, blurry with pained tears, to get a look at whoever dragged her in from the alley.

A white woman. Dark shoulder-length hair. Youngish, maybe Nile’s age. Dressed all in black, much like her--not for stealth but for soft goth vibes. Cute, if she’s honest, but this isn’t the fucking singles bar, get it together Freeman.

“I staunched the bleeding,” her rescuer says, “but I was waiting until you were conscious to do the stitches.”

“Do we have to?” Nile groans before she can stop herself.

A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile. “I’m afraid so. Would you like some fortitude?” The amateur surgeon holds out a bottle of Everclear.

Ugh. Nile takes the cap off and drinks deep, leaving enough in the bottle to sterilize whatever needs to be sterilized. It tastes like ass and lingers at the back of her throat.

Before the alcohol can set in and obliterate her senses, she says, “Can I borrow your phone?”

The woman hesitates. Very wise of her.

“Listen,” Nile says. “We had two leads come in at the same time. Al-Tayyib took one and I took the other, and mine was a decoy, which means...” She can’t, won’t, say it aloud. She hates how feeble she sounds. “I just have to check in with him. Please.”

The woman hands her a smartphone, unlocked. Nile hits the keycode to make the call anonymous, then dials Joe’s shitty flip phone from memory. He keeps it on silent when he’s on the rounds, and he’ll only answer if he’s safe.

Pick up, she wills him, because if she has to hear his stupid cheerful voicemail greeting now of all times, she’s going to scream right in front of this poor woman who didn’t ask for any of this drama in her life. Pick up, pick up, pick--

“Pronto.”

Nile’s gut tightens (painfully, but that’s not what matters right now) at the sound of another unfamiliar voice. The assassin. Joe walked into a trap.

“Where is he?” she demands, trying to sound hard and not like she’s lying on a stranger’s couch with an open wound.

A gust in the speaker. Is he laughing at her? She strains to hear anything that would give away their location: traffic, a clock tower, machinery, anything. There’s nothing else. No hint of Joe yelling in the background, either.

“I will return him to you presently,” says the asshole. Very formal.

“What, after you shank him like your goons did to me?”

“They were instructed not to kill you,” he says in a voice that wouldn’t fog a window in January. “Did you die?”

White-hot rage flares out of her with no place to go. “Where is he, you son of a--” But he has already hung up on her.

Nile resists the urge to growl. If this was her phone she would throw it against the wall. Instead she quickly deletes the record of the outgoing call, and hands the phone back to the woman, who pockets it. “Thank you,” she says tightly.

“I’m sorry to say so,” says the woman as she holds the tip of a curved needle in a candle flame, “but you are in no condition to save anyone right now.”

She blows out a sigh in answer. When she pulls the hem of her shirt up and peels away the medical tape and bandage pad, she discovers that the woman is absolutely right. This isn’t the worst Nile has been hurt and still fought, but it is pretty bad.

And it’s one thing to trash a gang of traffickers while she’s actively bleeding. It’s something totally different to track down a guy who has been three steps ahead of them this whole time, and seems to have removed his sense of morals with an ice cream scoop.

There’s only one thing left to do: say a silent prayer. The way she learned to pray feels insufficiently casual for the circumstances; she wishes she knew more about the format of the rakat. All she remembers is, “God hears the one who praises him,” so she starts on the Lord’s Prayer because praise comes before petition.

In place of, “Give us this day our daily bread,” she substitutes, “Get Joe out of this with his head,” and then she has to hold back a giggle at the rhyme. She must have lost a lot of blood.

The woman wipes the needle down with Everclear. “You know, I met the old Guardian too.”

Nile eyes her carefully. She won’t say Andy’s name in this woman’s presence. She won’t say Joe’s name either, much less her own. She won’t slip no matter how much blood she’s lost or how strong the alcohol is or how fundamentally good and trustworthy this woman seems or how much this is going to hurt. “Not under the same conditions,” she presumes.

“Very similar,” the woman says with another fleeting smile. “I hope she’s well?”

“She’s good,” Nile hastens to reassure her. “She retired.” And she left Nile her nom de guerre and all the weight that went with it.

“I’m glad she made it that long.”

“Probably thanks to you,” Nile says, and she gets a longer smile for it.

Then the needle bites into her skin and Nile whimpers softly and throws an arm over her eyes. She’s hard. She’s tough. This is what she does.

The woman’s gloved hand pinches the wound closed as she stitches. She works quickly, professionally. “I’m really glad you found me,” Nile manages. “I can’t exactly go to a hospital.”

“I think you would be surprised,” the woman says. “You are well loved in this city. People would protect your identity.”

That’s not it. Nile can’t go to hospital because there’s a chance her mom would be on shift, and the only thing worse than keeping her alter ego secret from her mom is the idea that she would find out because Nile came in on a gurney. She can’t do that to her.

A tug, as she ties the thread off, and then a snip of the shears. Nile lifts her head and looks down at a slightly puckered, neatly stitched, no longer bleeding knife wound.

Her laugh sounds brittle, just this side of hysterical. The woman glances at her. “I have work tomorrow,” Nile says weakly.

The woman tapes a fresh bandage over the wound. “Me too.”

No rest for the righteous. “The struggle is real, huh? Sorry for keeping you up late.”

“I will call in if you do,” the woman offers.

But going into the office in the morning might be the soonest opportunity to make sure Joe is okay. Nile pulls her shirt down and zips her bomber jacket over it. “I should go.”

The woman sets one hand on Nile’s arm. “Please stay. You shouldn’t be out alone tonight.”

“They might have been watching when you brought me inside,” Nile warns.

“Then I will need your protection, won’t I?” the woman says without blinking, as if she’s not the one that just saved Nile’s whole life.

Nile cracks an incredulous smile but the woman just gazes at her solemnly.

“Okay,” she says at last. “Okay, I’ll stay. Thank you. And I’m sorry for bleeding on your couch.”

It’s not enough, but the woman just sets about cleaning up her supplies. Nile settles back against the pillow and wills her muscles to unclench.

“May I ask,” the woman asks as she washes her hands, “why you do this? You don’t have superpowers.”

No, and none of the people who do have taken this city under their protection. Flippant, lazy answers parade through Nile’s mind, because she’s not in a charitable mood. Anger issues. No one else is gonna do it. I’m a giant masochist, actually.

But when she opens her mouth, the first thing that comes out is Andy’s answer, from when Nile asked her years ago. “Because there are people worth fighting for.”

Then Joe’s answer: “People who won’t get justice any other way.”

And, finally, one that’s all hers. “I have a responsibility. This is my city”

She’s going to pass out any minute, but beneath her fatigue there’s still a live coal of the feelings that made her put this mask on in the first place. This is her damn city. She spends so much time in the guts of its shitty justice system, and the rest of the time punching assholes, that she sometimes forgets her city is full of ordinary, decent people. Good people. People who will bring someone in from the rain. People like…

“What’s your name?” Nile asks, and then catches herself. “I can’t--give you mine. Sorry. It might be safer if I don’t know yours.”

“Celeste,” says the woman.

Good people like Celeste. How comforting that is.

Her pain is down to an ache instead of a burn, and her eyes drift closed. In the morning, she’ll be out of Celeste’s hair. She’ll shower at her apartment, carefully, and she’ll go into Legal Aid, and Joe will be there, a little banged up but alive. He’ll hug her, quick and tight, and they’ll loiter by the coffee maker and speak in low voices and sort out their next play. And when the work day is over, they’ll go with Andy and Quỳnh down to Booker’s for drinks and darts, and Nile will order a bouquet of flowers sent to Celeste’s apartment in thanks. Everything, for given quantities of everything, will be fine.

Confident in her safety, secure in her purpose, Nile rests.

#The Old Guard #Nile Freeman #nileweek2021

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 3 years

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So I looked through a detransition blog just out of curiosity, since it was one you reblogged, but now I’m super... freaked out? I have a top surgery consultation in April but now I have this weird fear that I’m faking it or that I’ll regret it afterwards. I’ve identified as somewhere along non-binary and trans (he/they!) for over a year, and I’ve known I’m not a girl for even longer, but now I’m just so afraid that maybe I don’t know myself at all. Do you have any advice on what this is?

Lee says:

Discussing your feelings with a therapist can sometimes help you untangle the anxiety from everything else. It’s reasonable to have some apprehension about a major surgery that can have a big impact on your life because it is a big change- and like any other surgery, it also has medical risk and can result in complications.

And reading about other people’s feelings about their surgeries can be helpful! I do recommend reading things from people who were happy with the outcome and reading things from people who weren't to get a better perspective on the range of experiences that can exist. Only reading the negative or the positive doesn’t provide a balanced view!

But even if you read other people’s stories, and talk to them about why they feel the way they do about their choices and bodies, nobody else can tell you what you should do for yourself. Even a therapist can’t know for sure if you will regret surgery (or anything else that you choose to do) because nobody can see into the future, see into your heart, and see into mind simultaneously to and determine for certain what it is that you need.

As soon as I came out as non-binary when I was 15, I started saving money for top surgery. I was someone who ran towards top surgery at full tilt and I didn’t give myself any space for doubt about whether it was the right choice for me because I felt it was the only choice I had-- forwards or nothing. I was pretty severely depressed at the time and had a brief hospitalization the month before I turned 18, and I was sort of pinning all my hopes on top surgery reducing my dysphoria and booting out my depression. So I scheduled my consultation as soon as I turned 18 and was legally an adult and could do so without parental permission. I immediately scheduled my surgery for the soonest available date, and had inverted-T incision top surgery about 3 months after I turned 18.

Now I’m 21 years old, and I’m 3 years and 5 months post-op from my top surgery.

In retrospect, top surgery was 110% the right choice for me. If I could do it all over again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Top surgery really did reduce my dysphoria by a significant amount, and that made it easier for me to cope with my depression and other mental health issues. I was proudly parading around the house shirtless as soon as I was able to stop using post-op compression, before my incisions had even healed into scars.

I don’t have any dysphoria about my chest anymore, especially now that I’ve gotten tattoos to cover my scars. I finally feel like I look like how I always knew I was meant to look.

I don’t post pictures of my chest anymore because I have distinguishing tattoos but I’ve posted a few before/after pictures when I was 3 years post-op and I think things have only gotten better now.

I was lucky to not have any complications; I don’t have any nerve pain, and hypertrophic or keloid scarring, and I didn’t need any revisions. But there are some things that are non-ideal compared to if I had just been born with a typical cis-guy flat chest. My nips are a little wonky in color and shape, and I plan on getting medical tattoos at some point to even the edges out. I also have slightly muted sensation in my chest now, so everything is like slightly number than it was before.

When I was pre-op, I did enjoy having nipple sensation that was pleasurable; even though I had inverted t-incision top surgery which preserved the nipple stalk, I still only have tactile, temperature, and pain sensations in my chest. If you put an ice cube on my nipple and my eyes were closed, I’d know it was cold. If you poked me while I was looking away, I’d still feel it. And if you squeezed me, it would hurt. But somehow it doesn’t feel good anymore like it used to.

I don’t know how much of that loss in erotic sensation is a mental thing and how much is a physical change caused by scar tissue build up around the nerve. But regardless, it is a real loss.

For me, that loss is well worth it. While I might have been physically capable of experiencing erotic nipple/chest sensation before, I rarely actually did have that experience because it made me too dysphoric and I didn’t like to take my shirt off during sex. Now I feel more fully present and comfortable in my own body and it makes me more engaged so I can focus on my partner and on the other feelings I’m having and how I look isn’t something that is detracting from the experience.

In general, top surgery has made my life better in a million ways. I love running shirtless with my college cross country team, I like going swimming at the beach with no shirt, and I like the way I look now when I see myself in a mirror after stepping out of the shower.

When I get dressed in the morning, my day starts off on a neutral note because it’s just me putting on clothes. Sometimes I pause to think about how I can just put on a shirt and feel good about it and move on. Before, I used to be upset every morning because the first thing I’d be reminded of when I woke up was that my chest was there and I didn’t want it to be. I’m Autistic, and binding was Not comfortable for me sensory-wise, so not having to bind was also nice.

I would choose to get top surgery again, but that doesn’t mean that it’s the right choice for each and every person. I am sure it was the right choice for me, and I have no regrets at all, I never want to have breasts again. But someone else might think that not having erotic nipple sensation is a dealbreaker, or they might not be comfortable with scars if they tend to heal with more visible raised scars that are harder to cover with a tattoo like I did mine.

So I can tell you that top surgery has made my life better and I’m glad I got it and I don’t think that there would have been any way for me to be as happy as I am now if I had not gotten it. Top surgery is life saving and life-changing for some people, and I am one of those people. I might be more inclined to tell people that if you think you need surgery you should get it because my surgery went so well and because I’m still identifying as genderqueer, transmasculine, and non-binary, just like I was when I was 15, so my identity is pretty static there.

Some other post-op people may tell you that they regret their surgery, that they wish they hadn’t done it, and they would make a different decision if they could go back in time. They might want to help warn other people to not make the same mistake that they did. Detransitioned folks often (but not always) have a different perspective than folks who persisted in being transgender and that’s okay- it isn’t a better perspective or a worse one, just a different one. But both trans and reidentified people can feel this way, even though it’s usually more common for de-trans folks to regret surgical procedures that it is for trans folks.

I semi-rushed into surgery for both emotional and logistical reasons but I knew it was right for me. But that isn’t the best choice for everyone and if you aren’t 100% sure that it is what you want and need then there’s nothing wrong with having the consultation with the surgeon to learn more and then thinking things over before you schedule a surgery date (or don’t), you don’t need to immediately schedule a surgery date after the consult. Think of it as an interview and as an information gathering session.

Neither of us can tell you what you should do because neither of us are “right” or “wrong” about top surgery. It’s just a different experience and a different perspective. We all have biases based on our own way of seeing things, and that can inform our advice.

If you know what the risks are, and you’ve given it careful thought and can provide an informed consent, then whether you should get surgery is your decision. I won’t tell you “go get it!” or “don’t go get it!” and I don’t think that any blogger should be telling anons what medical procedures to get or not get.

Worrying that you’re faking it, that you don’t know who you are, and worrying about regret is something that can be pretty scary and frustrating, but you don’t need to figure it out on your own, and it’s okay to take a little longer to come to a decision and talk it over with a therapist if you think it’s necessary to help you cope with that anxiety.

But yeah, I believe that ultimately you have to trust your gut feelings on what you know to be right for you.

Top surgery 101 links

Finding a therapist

Side note: While we do our best to avoid reblogs from obvious TERFs/truscum/transphobes/racists/sexists/ableists/etc to avoid exposing people to triggering content by boosting the blog’s visibility, and we do appreciate getting heads up asks about reblogs from a problematic OP, if we reblog a post from someone we do not necessarily endorse all of the content in every post they’ve made, and we don’t necessarily agree with all of the blogger’s opinions either. We reblog a specific post if we think seeing that post might be helpful for some of our followers.

#Lee says #top surgery #detransition #regret #surgery #nipple m #breast m #detrans #trans #nonbinary #Anonymous

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solastia · 4 years

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The Dragon’s Lair | 5

Pairing: Dragon Hybrid Namjoon x Reader

Word Count: 2,872

A/N: The smut is here! It’s a little short, since it’s been crazy at work, but I wanted to give you guys something. It’s also pretty vanilla since it’s Dragon Joonie’s first time, but boy will learn some things eventually. The spoiler for the next chapter is: We meet a new hybrid that likes riddles ;)

One of the most charming features of aging homes is their ability to fall apart during the least convenient times. Like how the power has currently gone out in the middle of a snowstorm and you can’t get a hold of anyone to come out and fix it because it’s too late in the evening.

You sigh as the air in the big house begins to take on a sharp bite, rubbing your arms as you assess your stack of wood next to the already blazing fireplace. This should be enough to get you through the evening and maybe into the next afternoon. You’d already braved the storm to take all of the food to the barn where there was an extra fridge and freezer set up to a small generator, since this wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened. You’d have to pull the couch closer and sleep on it tonight if you wanted to stay warm - no way would a single fireplace be able to heat all the way to your bedroom. And you weren’t really sure how comfortable he’d be with his long ass legs, but if you could talk Namjoon into sleeping on the couch with you then you’d have the added bonus of the Dragon’s natural heat to help keep you warm too.

As if you summoned him with your thoughts alone, Namjoon finally leaves his studio for the first time in several hours. He had been using the last bit of daylight to write in this huge notebook that he’d been toting around for a while (He still refuses to let you look, but he blushes so cutely whenever you ask that you let him get away with it). He looked unfairly comfortable wearing nothing but basketball shorts and a tank top, while you had thrown on a sweater and hoodie, sweats, thermals and three pairs of socks. He comes up and wraps his arms around your waist, humming into your hair as you turn back to the fireplace.

“Still not able to get a hold of anyone?”

“Nope,” you scoff. “Soonest anyone can be here is 2pm tomorrow.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “l guess we no choice but to turn in early tonight since there’s not much we can do without power or the ability to go outside.”

“Yeah. Any chance you wanna sleep out on the couch with me?”

“As if I can get any sleep with you off in another room,” he scoffs as he walks over to the couch. “It’ll be tight, but we can handle it.”

He pulls the couch closer to the fire and you whisper a silent apology to the old wooden flooring that was surely getting scratched underneath.

“There,” he grunts, patting the cushions with a self-satisfied grin. “We can get cozy and I’ll read to you until we’re tired enough to go to sleep.”

Namjoon splays himself across the couch, laying against the left armrest with a few pillows before he opens his arms. You smile and crawl in between his legs, using his chest as a pillow as you lay back and pull the couch blanket over the both of you. He reaches back and grabs the book he’d been reading the past couple of days and opens it to where he left off, clearing his throat before he starts reading. You don’t really listen to the words since he’s starting in the middle and you have no idea what happened before, but his deep voice and the rumbling in his chest vibrating against your back is comforting.

From your place, you can look right out of the front room window and observe the wild storm. The howling wind is strong and shaking at your windows, but thankfully those at least are holding up.

Namjoon pauses his reading for a moment to drink some water and you take the chance to mention something that had been bothering you.

“I hope Mark doesn’t get sick again in this weather. This is so bad.”

Namjoon rubs your arm comfortingly. “He’ll be fine. He’s got the eyes of a wizard on him at all times now. While hyung may not be able to stop the natural course of nature enough to make the storms cease - that I know of at least - he can certainly handle keeping a whelp warm. Not to mention, you made Mark promise to call you if anything happened again.”

You had made him promise that - and he’d followed it almost too well. Since he’d recovered enough to get out of bed he often snatched Heechul’s phone and called you at least three times a day, sometimes over something as small as finding a butterfly. The strange thing was, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you found them reassuring since you’ve begun to worry about Mark nearly constantly. Realistically, you knew that Heechul was doing an amazing job keeping an eye on him as well as the other hybrids that had suffered under the eye of that horrible staff woman, but you worried anyway.

Every time you made a meal, you hoped Mark was getting plenty of his own food too since he still had that slight gaunt look to him. You worried about him getting enough sleep, enough vitamins, if he was staying under his UV bulbs enough, if anyone had hugged him today. It was getting ridiculous. Why were you worrying so much about a child that wasn’t even yours?

You sigh and burrow closer into the heated body behind you. Namjoon tried to act cool about it, but you knew he was just as attached to Mark. You’d even caught him calling Mark and lecturing him when the boy hadn’t gotten around to making his daily calls yet.

If only he lived here you wouldn’t have to...

And the solution to your worries was so obvious you wanted to punch yourself in the face. Why couldn’t he live here? You had the room, he was one of the adoptable hybrids, the both of you already treated him like he was yours. You already had tons of rooms that you’d just have to fix up to make livable for the reptile hybrid. And you had no doubt Mark would be happy with the idea.

Content with that settled in your mind, you finally focus on Namjoon’s voice again, a secret smile gracing your face as the Dragon’s deep rumbles and warmth soothed you.

“You falling asleep, baby?” he whispered into your ear after a few moments.

“No, just comfy.”

“Mmm, yeah this is really nice.”

You heard a soft thunk as he set the book back on the table behind him then he slid his arms under the blanket to wrap around you, lacing his hands with yours. You could feel the warms puffs of breath against your neck as he nuzzled against you like a damn cat.

“Doing okay back there?” you ask with amusement.

He hums, “Yeah. You smell good.”

As if he’d flipped a switch, you begin to notice exactly where his mind is going as he somehow pulls you even closer and begins trailing gentle kisses on your neck. Not to mention the suddenly hard and heavily twitching thing that was poking into your lower back.

“So what’s doing it for ya? The cat hoodie or the sweats with the oil stain on them?”

He snickers lowly and presses a kiss against the side of your head.

“Just you. You just smell so good and I love holding you like this. I was just thinking about how much I love you and how I wanted to be even closer to you. And...uh...well, that’s the only thing we haven't done yet.”

You turn a little to study his face.

“And you think you’re ready right now?”

“Yeah. Always ready,” he chuckles with a self-deprecatory tone. “Just wanted to wait for the right moment, and I guess this is as good as it’s going to get. Cuddling on the couch with only firelight piercing the darkness. Your scent tickling my nose, teasing me.”

Your breath hitches as Namjoon purposely lowers his voice, the deep tones of his words teasing as he presses soft kisses behind your ear.

“Sit up for me, baby.”

He helps you sit up on the edge of the couch then slides onto the floor, peeking up at you with a slight blush as he settles between your legs.

“May I?” he asks softly as he pets your thighs.

The sight of Namjoon on his knees like that makes you quiver with anticipation.

“Yeah,” you tell him breathlessly, scooting up a little to help him as he begins to pull your sweats and thermals off, throwing them behind him (thankfully nowhere near the fireplace. You checked. It was still Namjoon after all).

“Cute,” he mumbles, playing with the lace on your admittedly not very sexy strawberry panties. He softly caresses the outside of the fabric, making you whimper.

He nuzzles the inside of your thigh and presses a soft kiss to it, looking up at you with wide eyes that would look almost innocent if it weren’t for the slight smirk he was sporting. He pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, taking a moment to just inspect it, embarrassingly enough. You had to remind yourself this was technically his first time so naturally he’d be curious.

Without warning, he leans forward and licks through your folds and suckles your clit hard like a pro.

“Oh, Namjoon.”

He hums, his tongue working furiously against you like a man starved. He pauses and moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing at a medium pace as he holds a couple of fingers to your lips.

“Get them wet for me, baby?”

You open your mouth and he slides them in, watching avidly as your tongue darts out to wet the digits. You circle his fingers with a teasing grin, biting the tips softly. He growls and the sound goes straight to your core.

He slides his fingers out of your mouth and slowly pushes them into you, meeting little resistance. You could hear him pumping them in and out, slick with your juices. He moans and leans over to tongue at you again, flicking against your clit. You whine and buck against his mouth, thinking that of course he was a fucking natural at this. And those big beautiful lips felt so good against you.

“So good. You taste so fucking good,” he groans, voice already sounding wrecked. And you swore he was trying to sneakily hump the couch, which only made it hotter. He was so excited just from eating you out.

Suddenly he stopped, whining as he gripped the front of his shorts. He closed his eyes and panted for a few moments before they shot open and he set his jaw, looking at you with desperation.

“I need to...you know...like now. Is that okay?”

You inhaled sharply, trying to come back from the god damned ninth form of heaven those lips had sent you to.

You grin, slightly happy for the reminder that this was actually his first time. His tongue had fooled you into forgetting that for a while, but now he seemed willing to go back to taking direction.

“Of course, sweetheart. How do you want me? Want me to ride you?”

His jaw dropped and he nodded frantically, quickly jumping up and kicking off his shorts before sitting on the couch. He widened his legs and watched you crawl over as his cock visibly twitched in anticipation.

You straddled his lap and lined him up with one hand, using the other to grip his shoulder to brace yourself. He bit his lip as you rubbed him against yourself, smearing your juices on him to ease the way. Sweat was beading across his brow as he held himself back from moving.

You exhaled slowly as you eased down, Namjoon’s girth stretching you further than you’d ever gone before. He reached around to grab your waist, just holding you and not directing you at all. You pause to let yourself adjust and to tear off your shirt and hoodie, then raise yourself up nearly to the tip before dropping back down all of the way.

“You good, Joonie?”

“Yeah,” he nods, answering like he was grinding his jaw while he stared at your now bare breasts right in front of his face. “You feel so good. So soft and warm. I’m trying so hard to not cum.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll try to keep this quick and you can cum whenever you want.”

You increased your pace, riding him with your hands gripping his shoulders to keep you steady.

“So beautiful,” he grunted. “Finally have all of you. I’m so happy.”

You rolled your hips against him, whining and tucking your head against his neck. You kissed and nibbled the skin there as you rode him as hard as you could. You reached down and moved one of his hands to your clit, showing him what you needed. He eagerly began rubbing you, bringing you even closer to the edge.

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, tonguing it and giving it a sweet little nip before he moved over to the other one. His grip on your waist tightened as you began to slow down, and he smoothly started to take over, bringing you down on his cock with powerful thrusts. His hands moved down to your ass, cupping them with his huge hands as he took full control.

“So wet, baby. You feel so fucking good,” he growled, bringing his forehead to yours, staring at you intensely.

“Mine. Tell me.”

His eyes were more vivid than you’d ever seen them, practically sparkling as stared at you. His skin felt like lava, and you were almost certain that you felt claw tips pricking your behind. Namjoon was practically going feral and you loved it.

“Yours. Been yours since the moment I saw you, Namjoon. I love you.”

His hips sped up at your words, the slapping of skin against skin echoing in the silent room. You soon became incapable of doing anything but panting and moaning as Namjoon fucked into you with a speed that you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Joon, I’m gonna - “

“Go ahead, baby. I’m right there with you,” he growled, bringing one hand to your clit and rubbing viciously.

You throw your head back and moan loudly as your muscles clench and twitch. Namjoon grunts and drops his head against the couch, sighing loudly as he follows you off the edge. It’s not until you begin to come down and think clearly again that you realize he’s dripping out of you and that you just let him take you completely raw. However, your bones feel like jelly and the Dragon underneath you looks close to passing out, so you figure that’s a conversation for another day.

“You good?” you ask, still draped across his chest. You reach up and caress his cheek, and he reaches up to hold your hand there for a moment before bringing it to his lips.

“Yeah. Totally worth the wait.”

You chuckle quietly. “I’m glad. Want anything to eat? I kept the stuff for PB&J Sandwiches inside since it doesn’t need to be refrigerated.”

“Maybe later. Kinda wanna stay like this for a while,” he grinned, bucking up a little like you needed to be reminded that he was still inside you. And...not growing very soft?

He noticed your unasked question in your eyes, shrugging. “Dragon stamina?”

You shrugged back. You’d long ago stopped questioning much.

You hummed and laid your head against his chest, uncaring that it was slightly sweaty. You stroked his beautiful skin...skin that still looked slightly unusual in color. You were pretty sure that his scales were trying to break through, but he was still too self-conscious about it to let them. You reached up to his hair under the guise of playing with the strands, and sure enough, you found two little bumps on either side of his scalp, like even his horns had tried to come through.

That sex with you was so exhilarating to him that he nearly lost control and shifted was flattering. That he still fought it off and apparently was still too worried to show you was not. You’d have to figure out some way to make him comfortable enough to show you.

You sigh and cuddle closer to him, nuzzling against his chest.

“I love you, Namjoon. You know that, right?”

He wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head.

“Of course. I love you too. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You smile happily, content with that for now, although you still had work to do to get him to trust you fully.

You close your eyes and start to doze off, only to be startled awake as an unrepentant dragon smirks down at you as he rolls his hips against you. It was apparently going to be a very long night.

At least you weren’t cold.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #hybrid #hybrid!au #hybrid!bts #hybrid!namjoon #dragon!namjoon #dragon hybrid namjoon #bts smut #the dragon's lair #solastia

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feyreashryverquinlan · 4 years

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Why do you guys think that Nesta looks like that?

I had to get on here to rant and see if anyone else is getting frustrated like I am?

So yeah, the cover for the book is different (I don’t think it’s bad but I can see how its unappealing), and it has inspired a lot of fan artists to make their own renditions. A lot of these have Nesta and Cassian in an embrace, which in my opinion is unlikely based on what is canon as of NOW, but I can see how the story is about the both of them and they will likely be together eventually. What is bothering me is how Nesta is being depicted (and Cassian in a few instances), and no, I don’t want to name any artists because that is rude and wrong. So here is my lists of wrongs, and basically my wishlist if someone would like to make fan art that is more appropriate based on their characters.

1. Her ears.

Why, why, WHY are her ears visible? Page 151 of ACOWAR, we see Nesta for the first time after the cauldron “With her hair styled like that, it hid the pointed ears.” She HATES faeries, she hates being one, so she hides the most defining thing that marks her as fae: her ears. So why does most of her fan art have her ears visible?

2. Her clothing.

Page 249 of ACOTAR, Feyre is heading back to her family for the first time, “Alis clothed me in an outfit very unlike my usual garb- frilly and confining and binding in all the wrong places. Some mortal fashion among the wealthy, no doubt.” In ACOWAR, Feyre describes Lucien wearing Night Court fashion, and Nesta wears “a pewter-colored gown, its make simple” (page 151 again). We know that Feyre and Amren wear Night Court fashion as well which tends to be a top and bottom with an exposed midriff (for women). Nesta, once again, hates faeries and still dresses like she would as if she was still human. So W H Y do artists depict her in these dresses that are so revealing? Slits, all the way up the leg, back exposed... We know that Nesta was sleeping with different men in ACOFAS but that doesn’t mean that she wears what she would think is the equivalent of lingerie out in public.

3. Most importantly: her body language!

It grinds my gears when I see Nesta so comfortably in Cassian’s arms. Is that what everyone wants? Yes. Is that the likely conclusion their relationship is heading based on Sarah’s writing? Yes. BUT! We have not yet seen them intimate like that. We’ve barely seen Nesta be intimate with anyone besides her sisters. Yes, we do have that scene where Nesta lays on top of Cassian before they might die, but she absolutely won’t even acknowledge it in ACOFAS. Page 191 “... body, arching over him, shaking in terror, willing to face that end. He hadn’t seen a glimpse of that person in months.” So whyyyyyyy do these artists keep. on. drawing her in his arms, with her arms around him, eyes closed as if she was comforted by his embrace? Here’s my note on Cassian; why do these also show Cassian staring anywhere else but Nesta? Do you think that for a moment, if she allowed him to touch her, that he wouldn’t be looking at her? He would be! Well, what if they were in danger, you ask? Do you think that our bad ass, straight-backed, different side of the same coin as Feyre, boss ass bitch, queen without a throne would have her eyes closed and back exposed when there is DANGER? Absolutely not. Until we read the scene where she accepts comfort from Cassian, in emotional AND physical ways, I don’t want to see her like that. When I see that, my mind is like: who is that? Because it simply DOES NOT look like her.

In summary, if you’re an artist and want to capture Nesta and Cassian in an embrace for art, or a new cover, as of right now, this is what would look good to me (someone who has read, and reread the series countless times). Cassian, with his armor on and arms around Nesta. I say with armor, because she likely wouldn’t allow him to touch her unless they were about to take flight. He would be looking at her, and his face would either be impassive or a little weary/sad. Nesta would have her hair neatly done, and if you want show her “fae-ness” then show the straightness of her ears but not the tip. Her clothing would be a simple dress (she relies on Feyre for rent money so I don’t think she has an extravagant collection of dresses) and not too revealing. In this embrace with Cassian, her back would be ram-rod straight. Her hands would be on his chest, fingers somewhat splayed, as if she would push him away at the soonest moment possible. She would not be looking at him. Her eyes would be open and staring blankly either down or at us.

I write this with certain depictions of them in mind, so please do NOT cruelly tag artists in this. Their work is beautifully done, and a skill I do not possess. I just wish it was actually representative of the characters as we know them, not as we wish them to be.

#acosf #acosf cover #nesta archeron #cassian

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years

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Three Days ~ 55

~*~Sebastian~*~

I stared at her. Stunned. I'm not sure if it's how the conversation went or she wants me and whatever comes with me. Emma is so intentional. Her words carry meaning. She wants to be clear and asks for clarity. This is heaven for my overthinking brain. I’m not stuck wondering what she means nor am I afraid to ask. Because I know she'll answer. Really answer.

"I've got eight years on you, how are you the more mature one?"

"Stabilizing influence and frighteningly direct communication of my second dad."

The expression on her face and deadpanned delivery had me laughing. "I can see that. I'll be the emotionally reactive one and you can be the calming one." Then I remembered. "Although, Eli did tell a story about you laying into some guy in Hawaii at a volleyball game. Ed dumped you in the ocean. I wish there was video."

"There is. You'll have to get dad to send it to you."

Tuesday was a good day. Workout was hard and my abs were already sore, but we'd laughed a lot. Good phone call with mom. The house had come together, she was enjoying some time in the pool, and she'd picked up some piano students. My afternoon was spent in my manager, Emily's, office. Mostly she and I, but a few conference calls. I was about to be busy. The next six weeks I was more gone than home. I was excited about the work. Excited to see friends.

Admittedly, the timing wasn't the greatest, new relationship and all, but I was confident we'd figure it out. This is different. I'd like to say it was because my previous experience is whining and bitching about me being gone so long, knowing I was going to pay for the distance, and trying to front-load my leaving to make it more palatable. While all of those all true, the actual difference is I care. The emotionally unavailable hot and cold thing comes into play here. I put up a wall to block the whining and bitching, not really listening, because it's my job. Bitching at me isn’t going to change anything and I’m not going to feel guilty for doing my job. Well, I do, but it just pisses me off because I shouldn’t. The expectation of gifts, dinners, or a vacation to make up for being gone made those a lot less fun. And I was never successful at cramming a bunch of stuff in before I left, because my work didn't start when I left. It starts weeks before. I don’t leave for filming for a month, but I’m already prepping: gym reading, watching things, research, and studying the script. I get pretty singularly focused. I don't know any other way. And when pushed I shut down. I don't respond. I brood. And I appear cold. None of this is right. Some just is. Some is my fault. Getting to where I didn't care about her (any of the previous hers) feelings and concerns with me gone was a side effect of shutting down and I regret doing that. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about her feelings. It was feeling ineffectual to do anything about it and my self-protection kicking in. Looking back, saying effectively “deal with it” was incredibly insensitive. Not proud of it.

But now, sitting here looking at my schedule I’m finding places I can find some time for us. We’ll figure it out. I can tell you what won’t happen. Emma won't whine where I block her out. She's not going to emotionally blackmail me for things, which will make me want to give. And she’ll leave me alone to prep, let me bounce things off her, or cook something to remind me to eat. I need all of those. I care how Emma's going to feel about me being gone. I care about what we’ve begun and how we'll keep in touch. I also know that while I'm away she will carry on living the life she had before she had me and be just fine.

Emma had practice tonight and a game tomorrow. It was after eight when she called. She was in a tank top and her hair was wet from her shower. I caught up on her day before leading into mine. "I have good news and bad news."

"OK." Emma drug out the word, wary of my response.

"When I get back from Canada, I've got some time to spend with you. Then I’m gone for the month of July. Fashion show, audition and meetings, comic con, then filming in Rome." Playing off last night’s conversation, I added. "I'm not expecting a bad reaction."

"Well, that's good." Her hand moved toward the screen and I chose to believe she was touching my face. "I'II miss you, but I’m excited for you. And me getting to hear about what you're doing. Living vicariously."

I'd had some time to think. I had a lot of thoughts on plans. This was the soonest. "You get back Tuesday, doubleheader Wednesday, and I get back late Thursday. What's your weekend look like?"

"Empty. I'll come to you. You'll barely be home if you come here. I can come anytime Friday. I'll be done with work except maybe packing up my room. I can do that whenever."

"Early Friday. Thursday night." I wanted to maximize our time. "I have to do some work."

"I can amuse myself."

"Maybe the shop you liked so much will be having a sale?" I laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "July fourth weekend I'm at a fashion show. Wanna go to Paris?"

"What?" Her face moved closer to the screen. I’d surprised her.

"Not necessarily Paris, but near. The third is the show. Have you been to Paris?"

"Family spent the summer in Europe when we were thirteen. Then Pearl Jam tours. Love Paris."

"Not much more than a long weekend, but museums and I'm sure we can find some romantic Paris shit to do."

"I would love to go to Paris with you."

That was good because I'd already made reservations. "California for about two weeks then straight to Italy for at least that. Depends on how long shooting takes. Hopefully back in time to join you in Chicago. Then nothing until the end of August. Will and I had been talking about a group of us going away. We were waiting for my schedule. What do you think about a group trip and we stay a little longer or go off alone? It would be a beach somewhere."

"You going to rub sunscreen on me?"

"Um yay, part of my volleyball job. Beer bitch and sunscreen applier."

“I’m in."

"End of August is a Disney thing. Labor Day weekend is the Toronto Film Fest. Little stuff in there, nothing big. No idea past then."

She laughed, eyes wide, and moving her head in all directions "It's crazy like a tour schedule. I'm jealous. I love touring."

"I thought about Rome, but the schedule's tight. You wouldn't see me."

"I wasn't trying for an invite. I'll get some of my summer PD hours done so I won't have to worry about them. Make sure I've got time for us."

I leaned back on the couch, "That was easy."

She glared at me. "I thought you weren't expecting a bad reaction?"

I shook my head, "No, no, I wasn't. Just an observation. Thought I might have to talk you into the beach." I held it a second before smiling, "Not really. I do know it’s a lot."

"I will always go to a beach."

"You’re not allowed to play volleyball."

"Did you get the video from dad?"

"About an hour ago." I'd enjoyed it several times. "You're a feisty little thing."

Wednesday was a day of pictures and texts. After the gym, I settled in my extra room to prep. I had my laptop on the table, a stack of books on top of my script, and a huge bottle of water. I took a picture and posted it to Instagram along with one of me with a pencil between my teeth and pulling my hair.

Emma ~ How'd you get a picture of your expression during your last blow job?

Sebastian ~ Hidden camera in bedroom. You should see the other things I have. Coupling Season 1. "The Cupboard of Patrick's Love."

Emma ~ “You really don't have enough blood for both ends of your body, do you?"

Sebastian ~ Very good, Sally.

Love that she can quote one of my favorite shows.

After lunch, Emma posted a picture of her in the middle of a group hug with her students. "I'll miss my munchkins.” I sent a sad face emoji.

Then I fell into a hole. I got pulled into my research and reading and the next time I picked up my phone it was one a.m. I need time like this and put my phone on do not disturb. The only thing that comes through is two calls from the same number within a few minutes. Anyone important knows how to reach me. Emma knew, but she didn't. Not even when the Demonic Crickets won their game. She posted several pictures, but I got a much better one in a text. Emma with her back to the camera in her team tank, arm up flexing her bicep, and her looking over her shoulder smiling at me. The gold flecks in her eyes were sparkling and the darker ring made the green more intense.

Emma ~ Hope you're getting a lot done. Internally anyway. XOXO

Sebastian ~ * 12 hours later * Yeah, I did. I'm hungry. Congrats on the win. Picture is beautiful.

Sebastian ~ You're beautiful

Her thank you came while I was working out. After a shower, I fell back into my hole until it was time for therapy.

I'd been seeing Celie for a long time. Frequency varied. She had a dark brown bob, glasses, and a round face. At this point, I could read her as well as she could me. If she was looking at me over her glasses, she thought I was full of shit. No words needed. She was about ten years older than me and her style worked for me. It was a great one-sided friendship.

I took my regular spot on the blue couch, "How are you today, Celie?"

Celie smiled. She had the unconditional positive regard thing down. I say that, but she does genuinely like me. Most of the time. I can be a pain in the ass. "I've had a good day and after you I get to go home. You seem to be in a good mood. Tell what's going on with you, Seb."

I was always her last client of the day. Sometimes I needed more than an hour. "I am in a good mood. I met somebody. Last time I saw you I was going to help my parents move. I met Emma there. In a grocery store, if you can believe that."

"Sounds like you can't."

"I asked her to dinner in under fifteen minutes."

She widened her eyes in disbelief. Exactly my point. "Did you? Good for you, Seb. A complete stranger. What led you to ask her out?"

"I was all covered up and she tells me I looked like a rehab patient checking into the clinic up the road. But she was kind to me. A sketchy stranger. She didn’t know who I was until we were outside and I introduced myself. She helped me find the things on my list and we chatted." I put my hands in front of my chest, fingers splayed. "She felt good. I didn't know why, just enough that I knew I wanted to know more.”

“And what do you know now?”

I spent the next several minutes telling Celie the salient points. We’ve been doing this long enough that explaining isn’t necessary. She’ll recognize why things are important. My face hurt from smiling after I was finished talking about Emma. I stopped short of the whole conversation on Sunday.

“Besides the obvious early relationship high, how are you feeling about all this?”

“Good. Happy. Hopeful. The only concerning thing was Saturday I woke up from a night terror, panic attack. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, wrote for a while, and once Emma got up I went for a run.”

“Even with being happy, there’s been quite a bit of emotional activity. I’m pleased that you’ve only woken up once. Much better. What do you suspect triggered you?”

I took a deep breath, “Emma and I wound up in this conversation Sunday afternoon. A couple of my friends at the party had told her I wasn’t acting like I normally do with women, but more like I am with friends. This led to a conversation about my relationship issues. I’m not the same with her. She really doesn’t know that version of me. I think that’s why I had the anxiety. It was the night after the party but before the conversation. First time we’d been around my friends. I think it was not because I’m scared, but because I’m not. Like you said, there’s been a lot of emotional shit going on and I’m good. Remarkably good.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Emma is different. She’s incredibly kind and is . . . gentle. Not weak though. She’s strong.”

Celie shook her head, “When I think of gentle people it’s a combination. They can be painfully truthful, but their manner makes others able to listen. They have a compassion for others.”

“Exactly! I noticed she knew everyone. She talked to everyone and used their name. I asked and she said she looked at their nametags and you never know what someone’s day has been. That might be the first nice thing that’s happened all day. I know it’s a little thing, but it’s her. She’s like that with me. She doesn’t try to talk me out of being anxious or overthinking. She doesn’t think my insecurities are stupid. They’re all just part of me.”

“She accepts you.”

“Right. The more we got to know each other, the more we talked, I felt safe. She doesn’t do those things I usually shut down over. I don’t feel the need to protect myself. She’s very different.” Celie was looking at me over her glasses. Uh oh. “You’re giving me the look.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Why? I thought I was doing good. I asked out a stranger and got this amazing woman.”

“Sebastian, as quick as you are to fault yourself, you’re slow to take credit.”

“Take credit?” I didn’t know what she was talking about.

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. “You think this relationship is different because of Emma. You lucked out and met an accepting, kind, gentle person.”

“Yes. No. Both. Emma is different and she makes me different.”

Celie made a loud, jarring beeping noise. This was new.

“Ok, I guess I’m wrong.”

“You are. Not completely. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. Any credit. You’ve worked very hard. You’ve read. You’ve journaled. You’ve talked. You’ve done things I’ve asked you to even if you didn’t understand or want to. I’ve seen you grow. To give responsibility for this relationship being different all to Emma is dangerous. What’s going to happen when she falls off this pedestal you’ve put her on? Is that going to be an excuse to shut down and protect yourself? Fall back on old habits.”

I could feel my eyebrows pulled down and the scowl on my face. “So you’re saying this isn’t as good as I think it is.”

“Not at all. I’m saying it’s got as much to do with you as it does her. Previously you would have never asked out a woman you met in a grocery. But that seems to be the furthest you’re going with how you’re different. I do not believe for one second that no other woman you’ve gone out with has been kind and accepting. Or would have been if you would have been able to show them you. You used to do things to test them. You’d say or do things to see how they’d react. As we’ve talked, you weren’t being real, so you don’t know that their reactions were.”

I nodded then looked down, “I know. Pretty manipulative.” I felt Celie’s hand on my arm and looked back up. Her face was very soft with a smile.

“Stop, Seb. You need to be proud of yourself. You are doing things differently. You have learned from your past, grown, and come a long way in accepting yourself. Warts and all. You have shown Emma who you are, even the parts you don’t like so much. She can have credit for how she’s responded to you, but you deserve the credit for being brave enough to show her in an honest and authentic way. That allowed her to respond in an equally honest and authentic way.”

I grabbed a tissue from the ever-present box on the table and wiped the wet from my face. Neither the first nor the last time I’d cry in this room.

"If you had met her even a year ago, with her exactly as she is now, this relationship would be very different."

"The wedding."

"Excuse me?"

Yeah, non sequitur. "I was supposed to go to a friend’s wedding last summer but didn't because there was a change in my shooting schedule. Emma was at the wedding. You're right. Had I met her then," I shook my head. “I wouldn't have been ready for her and now could have never happened."

Celie shrugged, "Probably not."

I sniffed and wiped my eyes, "How do I get her off this pedestal I’ve put her on?"

"You seem pretty smitten. Maybe not take her off, just lower it a little." I laughed and she went on. "What you do is own your part. You have been making choices to improve yourself. You have been making choices to go out of your comfort zone. And you have been making choices to let her know you. Emma's been making similar choices to be with you. I'm sure you know what she's come through to be where she is. It seems like you complement each other. Recognize this is both of you waking up and choosing to be with each other. Talk and negotiate what that means. Tell her what you want. And when you're not talking you listen. Listen to what she needs from you. The most important for you is to keep processing the feelings with her. She's the only one who can help those make a picture. And you need to give her the same gift. She has things she’s not so proud of and afraid for you to know about her. We all do. You will need to accept her and treat her with gentle kindness she gives you.”

I was crying again. "She told me. I told her she was different than the others. She asked if maybe I was different."

Celie snickered, "I like her."

"You would. She speaks therapy."

"I want to be very clear, Seb. She sounds wonderful and she may make you better. You sound wonderful and I bet you make her better too. That’s how it should work in a relationship. You help each other along. It takes two people with self-awareness making choices to do what it takes. You both have to choose growth, honestly, humility, vulnerability, and sacrifice. I hear you holding up your end. I’ve not heard you do this before. And while she may be the right woman, you've become the right man. Please, please, do not underestimate how much work you've put in to become the right man for another person.”

"I want to go home and cry for an hour or so."

"I wish Emma was here for you."

I shook my head with a grimace, "It's going to be ugly until I get it out."

"Yes. I think Emma would want to be there to hold you and you'd find more acceptance and comfort in that than you can imagine."

At home, I grabbed a beer, sank down in my favorite chair, and cried. I felt everything all at once but fought to untangle the threads. Sad was remnants of the past and dissipated quickly. Its friends regret and shame fought a little harder to stick around, but they were toxic and needed to go. Pride and relief were together too. Celie was right. I had worked hard. An infinite number of hours had gone into figuring myself out. There have been so many times I thought I'd be stuck forever. Sometime in the last two years that I've been without a girlfriend, all the work must have come together. In the last two years I've been filming almost nonstop. Five movies have come out. Two of which were Marvel circuses. It's like all the therapy (and the work that goes with it) knitted me back together while I was busy filming and living my life. Celie had told me to trust the process. I couldn't rush it or make changes happen before it was time. Patience. I am inherently impatient. Pride was for the work. Relief was for seeing results. Finally.

Next was happy. I’m in a good place. I'm excited about the movie I’m making. I have supportive, fun friends, and a loving family. I don't need a girlfriend to be happy, but one does bring everything together. I like having a person who is mine. Mine in the sense of us experiencing life together. The good and bad. I like that. I want that. And now I have it. The beginnings of it, anyway.

After I pulled my shit together, I wanted to talk to Emma. I wanted support. Maybe not support, but I felt raw. I wanted someone to soothe the raw nerves, to sit with me while all this new stuff integrated. I wish she was here. What I needed was a hug.

Sebastian ~ Can you talk?

I don't like that I asked. It feels insecure and I have zero reasons to feel insecure. I quickly decided to cut myself some slack.

My phone rang and I connected to FaceTime. "Hey." Her bright smile and obvious happiness to see me did wonders to soothe those raw nerves.

Emma's face went from a smile to wide-eyed concern. "Sebastian, what’s wrong? You look like you've been crying. What happened?" Before I could answer, she jumped to a correct conclusion. "You had therapy. Good, bad, or cathartic tears?"

"Mostly the last one."

Her hand went to her chest, "Ok." She picked up what I assumed was her iPad and crossed to the chair in her bedroom. I could see her pull her knees up when she put her feet on the ottoman. She rested the iPad on her knees.

"Mostly a repeat of what we talked about Sunday. Celie said I wasn't giving myself enough credit for the work I've done. My growth."

As Emma had alluded to the same thing, I expected a smile or some acknowledgment of her asking if I was different. Instead, I got, "What do you think?"

"I think I still need to work on not being so hard on myself." I smiled because that statement was me still being hard on myself. "When Celie pointed out how I've changed I could see it and was proud of myself. I can’t see it on my own yet, but I'll get there. I never thought anyone would get past my walls. It wasn't someone getting in, it was me getting out." More goddamned tears.

Emma reached out and touched the screen. "I‘m so happy for you. Proud of you too."

Her words felt like a hug. Close enough for now. "Thank you."

"I know you're a grown man, but I wish I was there. Crying alone sucks."

"Oh," I laughed a little, "the chances of us having a messy reunion are high."

"Why?"

"A lot of you and I talk today. I know me, it's gonna hit me when I see you."

"I should warn you. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."

I smiled at her exaggerated southern accent with the "Steel Magnolias" quote. "See ... gonna be messy."

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction

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melancholydreadfuldream · 4 years

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seven devils dreaming

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: DW AU. You have a new assignment, to keep an eye on a man called John Smith. Easy, right? That’s until the truth is revealed behind who John Smith really is. The most dangerous man in the universe, the trickster of the world, the last of the Time Lord, the oncoming storm called the Doctor, trapped in a human state.

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x Reader

Warning: ooc, deception, mention of sex, a possibility of dark!doctor, obsessive behavior, mention of torture.

A/N: Honestly, this is also a nonsense of a fanfic indulging in the idea of dark!doctor. But I couldn’t write very well hence this will be a painful read. But I’m gonna post it anyway because I am evil.

Ugh, I was bored. I have been inactive ever since my last mission 2 month ago. I have been assigned for desk duty which is such a waste of my potential. I am one of the best actives in the Division where I work. And yet here I am sentenced into desk duty as punishment for punching the jerk-face that is my client during my last mission. In my defense, that jerk-face deserved it. That man was horrible and it was times like this I hated my job, to protect bad guy like him. Though in my line of work it was actually all about the pay day.

The base where I work is located in some alien planet with permission from the local. We got along with the local fairly well. The Division offered protection in exchange for the space we occupied for our headquarter.

The Division consists of both alien and human, we are all to work together to monitor the happening in the universe and sell information to those who seek it and depending on the clients, we are to step in to stop the chaos or cause it. We are no shadow proclamation or even time agency. In fact, the time agency hated us but still sometimes they also used our service.

Someone dropped a folder on my desk right in front of me.

“Look like you got your wish, (last name), you are off desk duty. That is your new mission.” Luke said. He is one of my co-worker in analysis section. He is not an active like me. In Division, we called our field agents an active.

I picked up the folder with excitement and frowned when I saw the contain. “Babysitting duty? Again? Why me? Can’t someone else do it?”

Luke is annoyed. “Would you prefer desk duty then?”

“I will take it.” I quickly said.

“Good. Because you don’t actually have a choice. The big guy upstairs ask for you specifically for this assignment.”

“The big guy did? Is this another punishment?” I asked in exasperation.

Luke shrugged. “Wasn’t that bad. You get to be undercover the duration required to keep an eye on that guy.”

I pulled the picture of my target. A handsome man called John Smith. “Is that a fake name?” I asked. The man in the picture is actually good looking, an eye candy, so maybe it won’t be so bad.

I read the detail regarding this John Smith. A human. A history teacher for a school in Beacon Hill, a small town on Earth. He also work as a librarian.

“Ugh, boring…” I complained. “What is interesting about him that someone pay us to keep an eyes for him?”

Luke shrugged. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“But this guy sounded boring. His lecture probably put his students to sleep.” I mocked. “Also, ‘keep an eye on him by inserting active on his daily life’. Please don’t tell me I have to be undercover as a teacher?”

“I felt bad for your students if that is the case…” Luke said in flat tone.

“Hey!” I yelled offended.

“You actually can pick how you are planning to insert yourself into his life.”

I grinned mischeviously. “I want a job where I get to kick bad guys in return for watching over that boring man.” I gasped dramatically. “A private investigator. I always wanted to be a PI.” I grinned. “(Name) (last name) PI.”

“Glad to see your finding amusement in this.” Luke said but his tone is anything but glad. “How are you meant to watch over him if you go after bad guys?”

I shrugged. “I will make it work.” I picked up the picture again. “I’m about to rock this guy world.” I said with a huge grin.

Had I known who John Smith really is, I would have refused the job. But I was set up.

&&&&

“The Doctor is indisposed. He won’t be causing us trouble. And I have employed actives to distract the human doctor.”

“Make sure it stay that way.”

&&&&

Inserting myself into John Smith’s routine is fairly easy. I ‘met’ him during his time working in the library. I was there for research. I introduced myself as a PI who just moved in town.

John is polite and awkward but very helpful in my research.

I thought it would be fun to be PI but considering I was in a small town, there is hardly any excitements here.

As a PI, mostly I got bored at my office which I rented on the second floor of a bar. The place is quite large so that’s where I stay for the night.

I didn’t stalk John all day because I didn’t want to catch attention of the people of town so I hang out in the bar and befriended the bartender. Small town, people like to gossip, so I have to be extra careful, newcomer tend to catch the town people’s eyes. At least, the bartender is cute and friendly, his name is Holden.

My first case is to find a missing cat much to my chagrin. The second case is slightly more intriguing, to investigate a husband affair.

In between, I always made sure to go to the library for my 'research’. I got to speak with John a few times now and he is hilariously awkward with women. Some women in Beacon Hills evidently find him eye-pleasing and love to flirt with him. After I saw how he dealt with them, I realized I can’t be outright flirting with him. He would just shot me down like he did the others.

Though, I supposed I have a better chance because John is definitely interested in me when I mentioned that I work as a PI.

He is curious why I moved into the small town of Beacon Hills and I said I needed a fresh start.

&&&&

John found me lurking around at the school where he teaches.

I told him I have a concerned parent as my client who want me to take a look at their son’s life, fearing he’s involved with the wrong sort of crowd.

John, as a teacher, is rightly concerned and offered to help especially when, surprise surprise, the boy in question is actually one of his student.

Well, I was supposed to keep an eye on him too so him volunteering to help is helping my case. Two birds one stone kind of thing. I was pleased with myself.

I found out I was wrong about John though. His lecture didn’t put his students to sleep. He has a funny way to make history interesting. And it does help that he is good looking so most of his female students are very attentive to listen to his lecture in hope to get a praise. He is very likable among his students. He is one of the students’ favorite teacher.

John discreetly pointed to the boy, Clarke, his name. I turned to watch over the boy and he did look too distracted. John is concerned and he wishes to talk to the boy. Of course, it didn’t end well. Teenagers. They want our attentions and they don’t want it too. I watched as Clarke get mad at John and left.

So I followed the boy, he is my job after all. I wanted to get paid so I have to report the case as soon as possible. I have some other boring clients I need to deal with too beside Clarke’s parents. The soonest I finish with all of them, the quickest I could establish my reputation as PI here and get accepted by the town. Then I can finally focus back on my primary mission, John.

Of course the son of the client ended up in trouble and I have to intervene. Though I ended up in jail for starting a fight with the local drug gang. The parents are right, Clarke did get into a mess with the gang and now they are blackmailing him. Once I found out what they have on Clarke, I politely asked them to hand over their blackmail material to me and they laughed in my face. So I violently asked with my fist instead.

The Sheriff glanced at me in displeasure as I stared back at him from behind the bars. I could tell he dislikes me already, probably think I’m trouble. Well, he’s not wrong.

John surprised me when he come to the police station to bail me out. He seemed on a good term with the Sheriff that the old man actually let me off the hook.

“Thanks, I owe you one.” I said as we got out of the police station.

“You didn’t owe me anything, Miss (Last Name). You are doing a good thing after all…for Clarke…”

“Yeah, just call me (Name). I didn’t do it for Clarke. I’m being paid by his parents, remember?” I dismissed his claim.

“Still, you saved him from the gang. I’m grateful for that.” John turned to glance at my face. “That look hurt.” He tentatively touches the bruises on my face.

I winced. "Should have seen the other guys…“ I said with a laugh.

“I really can’t say I’m approve with how you deal with the gang though…” he said in firm tone.

“Ah, you are one of those pacifist people, huh?” I rolled my eyes.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far…but I do believe in less violence and more talking.”

“No wonder you are a teacher.”

“What’s wrong with being a teacher?”

I shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. Well then, Mr Smith, thank you again for your help but I gotta go…”

“Call me John.”

I blinked and then shrugged with a small smile. “See you around, John.”

“See you soon, (Name)” He actually pick up one of my hands and kissed it like a gentleman from those classic movies. “Take good care of yourself.”

&&&&

The next day, while I was hanging out on the bar nursing my drink, I spotted John entered the bar. I raised my eyebrows at him. He didn’t strike me as the type to go to a bar sort of person. Too gentlemanly. He seated himself beside me without invite.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you suppose to teach Beacon Hills’ bright young minds?” I asked teasingly.

“I have a free period.” John replied as he glanced at me. “I feel concern for you.”

“Me? Why?”

He shrugged. “So what about you? No client today?”

“Nope.” I said. “Can I buy you a drink, John?”

“Sure.”

And from then on, we become sort of friends. I hang out on the library in lazy afternoon when my work as PI is slow. He hang out at the bar at night at my request whenever I need to wind up. I also invited him to my office to have a look around.

“Sorry, the place is messy…” I said.

“It’s fine. I’m the one who is intruding…” He glanced around the room. “You sleep here?”

“Yeah, can’t afford separate living space and office.”

John hummed. “Nice place though.”

“I know.”

&&&&

“So what’s with you and the teacher?” Holden, the bartender asked one day.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”

“Lately I saw you hanging out a lot with him. Are you seeing him?”

“Just friends.”

“Friends that hang out most of the times?” he asked in obvious disbelief.

“we find kindred spirit in each other?” I spouted out bullshit.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me…” Holden shrugged with a pout. “You are alone today?”

“yeah. John has a teacher gala thing.”

“He didn’t invite you along?”

“Not my thing.”

He finally left me alone to deal with the other customers.

&&&&

John is adorably awkward. He told me about a fellow teacher at the school, Joan, who seem to be politely flirting with her.

“Well, if you like her, flirt back.” I said.

“I don’t know…”

“Why? Do you have someone you like already?”

“No, not really.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I think the school has rules about fellow teachers getting together…?”

“Screw the rules…” I said. “If you like her, you should give her a chance. What if she is the one for you, John and you missed your chance because of some rules?”

“I suppose…” John looked reluctant.

I rolled my eyes. “Do you need my help with her?”

John’s eyes widened. “No!” He practically yelled.

“Geez, okay, no need to yell…”

“Sorry.”

&&&&

John started seeing Joan so he started to spend less time with me.

When I reported this to my handler, Luke, he gave me an earful about it. So I had to do something.

I stalked both John and Joan on their date. I started to investigate Joan for dirt. I have to sabotage their relationship. Not my proudest moment especially since I was the one who push John into dating her. Eventually they broke up and John return to hang out with me, nursing a drink together over his short-lived romance. Though I get the feeling John isn’t entirely too troubled with the break-up.

&&&&

I finally established my reputation as a PI in Beacon Hills when I 'rescued’ a child from a kidnapper. Honestly, it was just a coincidence. I just happen in the wrong place right time kind of thing.

I become sort of famous because of what happened. My picture is in article on local newspapers. The Sheriff is actually start to look at me differently and acted all nice with me.

John gazed at me with admiration as if I have suddenly become his heroine or something. He took me out on a dinner. I told him to meet me in McDonald for burgers much to his astonishment. I think he want to take me to a fancy dinner but I hate that.

I started getting more clients as a PI. The Sheriff also started to invite me to help with his cases. I started getting into my fake job a little too seriously now, almost neglecting my primary assignment.

Luke, for some reason, seemed to know and reprimand me to 'up my game’. Ugh, I don’t like this part because that meant I have to start getting romantically involved with John to keep him with me.

So during a night while he’s hanging out on my office while we drank alcohol together, I kissed him. He kissed me back. But he acted like a proper gentleman, telling me that I was drunk and it would inappropriate of him to take advantage.

John is acting weird lately, like those lovesick fools. He become more affectionate with me, holding my hand, caressing my hair, smiling adorably at me, stuff like that.

I should be happy because he’s acting exactly as I expected him to but I like him as friend and It just so weird to change the dynamic. But I know I have to make the jump on that.

&&&&

John is upset with me. He’s actually mad because I didn’t properly acknowledge what we have, whatever that is.

“Do you like me, (name)?”

“Well, yeah, you are my best friend, John."

"That’s not what I meant and you know it.” John looked frustrated. “I want more from us. And I would like it if you want it too…”

I wanted to hit myself in the head. I should just follow the mission and become his girlfriend but I genuinely like him as a friend and I don’t want to pretend to love him. Even though for the sake of the assignment, I have to. I can tell John is losing patience in dealing with me. I have been brushing him off lately and then being affectionate next. And I said assignment, but really its all about the payday, isn’t it? Part of me feel horrible because I do consider him as friend but another part of me, the sensible one, forced me to face reality. John is just an assignment, not a friend at all. When the time come, I would have to left him behind.

John displeased with me and left, refusing to talk to me.

Now what? If he is mad with me, it would be a bit hard to keep an eye on him. Luke is going to give me hell for this. But I did accepted this assignment so I have obligation to see it through at any cost.

&&&&

I got a client, a young lady who is afraid of her husband who apparently a very influential individual in this town. The husband abused her hence she wishes for a divorce. But the husband refused so the lady, Mary, wishes for me to discreetly get a dirt on the husband and blackmailing him into divorcing her and left her alone. So I made plan for a stake out on the husband.

I saw John and he is being cold toward me on purpose. I don’t like it.

I got dirt on the husband but I wasn’t careful and was found out. His henchmen attacked me while I was walking home alone one night. Had it not for John I would have got hurt a lot worse. It was the first time I wonder if John has a dark side. The calm way he handle the henchmen with precision movement to disable them while still give them a whole of hurts is kinda…amazing but also scary.

I gaped at him. “John?”

John walked toward me and sat down beside me on the ground. He gently touched the bruise on my neck from when they tried to strangle me. “I really wish you would be more careful.” He said with a sigh.

“Thank you for saving me…” I whispered.

“Just because I’m still mad at you, doesn’t meant I don’t care about you. Because I do care, (name)…”

“I…care about you too, John.”

“But you don’t love me…”

“Do you? Love me?” I asked.

John didn’t answer for a second. He sighed. “I like kissing you. I want to kiss you some more.”

I chuckled at him and winced as I stroke my neck. I closed my eyes and thought on the night we kissed. I don’t know if I want to kiss him again but right at this moment, I very much wanted to.

“We should report this to the Sheriff and you need to go to see a doctor.” John said in concern.

“No to both.”

John glanced at me in disbelief. “These men just tried to kill you.”

“Hazard being a PI? Means I’m doing my job right…somewhat…” I said with a hoarse tone.

“Not funny, (name).” John said firmly. “Look at you, you can barely talk. You really need to see a doctor.”

“Ugh, too much paperwork.”

“I will handle the paperwork.”

“John, I really just want to go home, you know? I’m beat up…” I said tiredly.

“Fine, but you’re coming home with me.”

“Fine.” I agreed to tired to argue.

&&&&

I glanced around John’s house. It was a bit small but lovely. I saw a few sketches on the coffee table. It was sketches of some alien in nature. My eyes widened. John is suspicious after all. I thought he was an ordinary human but he knew the existence of alien? The drawing of Daleks, Cyberman and many other alien species. It was really good though, the drawing. I didn’t know he could draw so well.

“What is this?” I asked as I waved one of the sketches.

“Oh, it was just a doodle.” John said. “You knew years back there are alien invasion on Earth. Those are supposedly eye-witness account of how the alien species look like.”

“You never encounter any of them?”

“Nope.”

I picked up a drawing of a young girl. “And who is this?”

“Rose…” John whispered solemnly.

“And who is Rose?” I asked.

John didn’t answer for a few seconds. “Nobody, apparently…just someone that didn’t exist.”

I frowned. I have a feeling there is more about this Rose. So while John is distracted, I took the sketch into my pocket, intending to ask Luke to investigate her.

John prepared a warm bath for me and tend to my wounds afterward. He also gave me some hot tea to calm my nerves. He gave me one of his pajamas for me to wear to sleep.

“You can take my bed, I will sleep on the floor.”

“Your bed is big enough for two. We could sleep together.” I said.

John raised an eyebrow at me.

“You know what I meant.”

He grinned.

I shook my head. “I’m tired. I will go to bed first.”

“I will join you later.”

“Just a warning, I snore.”

John chuckled.

&&&&

That morning I woke up with John’s arms somehow has envelop me. I turned to look at his sleeping face. I couldn’t help the small smile on my face. I discreetly removed his hands and move out of the bedroom as not to disturb him. It was still a bit early.

I took my bag pulled my smartphone and took a picture of Rose drawing and send it to Luke with a text to find out about her. Then I made coffee for myself.

Shortly after, John got out from his bedroom, with adorable messy hair, looking a bit in panic. He stopped short when he saw me chilling in his kitchen drinking his coffee.

“Hey…” I greeted innocently. “Coffee?”

He gazed at me and actually sighed in relief. "I thought you left the house…“

"What if I did?”

“I would have hunt you down.” He said with this expression I can’t decipher.

I couldn’t tell whether he was joking or serious. So I decided to change the subject to my case, the reason why I become a damsel in distress for John.

“I am a PI. This is what I do. And frankly I love it. I’m not gonna stop doing what I do just because some guy decided I was in the way.” I said when John expressed how dangerous my line of the work are.

To tell the truth, if I ever left Division, I could see myself working as PI.

&&&&

I managed to get back at the guy who tried to have me killed. I blackmailed him in regard of his illegal business, forced him to divorce his wife and make him agreed to give said ex-wife generous amount alimony.

He agreed very reluctantly but I know he won’t just let me go for blackmailing him. I know he will try different ways to hurt me but for now he will back off.

John is worried and tried to stay by my side whenever he can to make sure I will not be in danger. But he can’t do much since he has school to teach and other stuffs.

I reassured him that they won’t get the drop on me again.

&&&&

This small town lately become a hotspot for crime. Robbery, kidnapping and murders. And I used to think small town means less excitement. Now it feel like too much sometimes.

My relationship with John is still shaky at best. All because I couldn’t fully open myself to him. How can I? I’m living a lie. John might know my name and the fake background of mine but he doesn’t know the real me.

And John obviously is not what he said he is either. Sometimes i catches a glimpse of someone scary within John. It made me pretty curious to try to find out more about the true John. I suspect John’s identity is a cover up. But even as I suspecting this, I started to have all this confusing feeling for him.

&&&&

The nerve of her! That Joan! How dare she said that I’m not worthy of John? Who does she think she is acting all high and mighty?

When I told John about it, he grinned childishly. “You’re jealous…” he said, pleased and wrapped a hand around mine.

I scoffed at what he claimed. Why does John look pleasantly happy with the thought of me being jealous? It was kinda annoying me.

But to tell the truth though, Joan is right, I can’t imagine why John could ever love someone like me. I’m a mess.

&&&&

“The Doctor’s companion has contacted Jack Harkness for help in locating the Doctor.”

“Stall them. Divert their attention. Create a chaos near them. Do not let them find out the location of the Doctor. The plan must not failed.”

&&&&

“DON’T YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM ME!!” I yelled on top of my lungs while I ran after the bad guy.

My target, upon hearing my banshee scream, ran faster. Only to fall spectacularly with a trick by John who happened to be in town while I was doing my thing.

John, who heard me screaming like crazy, glanced up from his conversation with a fellow teacher. He smiled in amusement upon spotting me. He saw who I was after and did thing I can explain, creating some sort of chain reaction with stuff around him which ended up with my target fell within my reach.

“Hah! Got you, jerk-face!” I yelled as I grabbed him.

Joan winced at my language.

John grinned as he approached me. “What are you doing with him, (name)?”

“Isn’t obvious? He’s a fugitive. I’m a bounty hunter at the moment.” I said with a grin.

John smiled fondly at me.

“How did you do that by the way?”

“Do what?”

“That thing you do… I don’t know what it’s called anyway, but that is awesome!” I said.

“Happy coincidence?” John said with a shitty grin.

I saw Joan from behind John, watching us with a look of disapproval which make me suddenly have an idea to annoy her some more. I pulled John down toward me and kissed him much to his pleasant surprise. He kissed me back. I saw from the corner of my eyes of Joan leaving the scene. I grinned into the kiss.

“What bring this on?” John asked.

“For your happy coincidence.” I said teasingly.

“Get a room.” My target scoffed.

I turned toward him. “Oh you will get a room, alright, off to jail you are.” I grabbed him and pushed him to the direction of the police station. “See you around, John.”

“See you tonight, (name).”

&&&&

I was drunk the first time I had sex with John. What the hell was I thinking? It was so embarrassing. I was upset because of a case. I lost a client that I personally get attached to. I failed her. I was so upset and I drank a lot.

John took me upstairs to my place where I shamelessly (at the times) seduces him with (oh dear, someone kill me please) a lap dance and basically being a tease till he agreed to bed me. John is a proper gentleman and at first has refused me, claiming he didn’t want to take advantage of my drunken state. Apparently I told him to hell with proper and if he didn’t bed me, I would find someone who would. And after that, I distinctly saw his eyes darken with possessive desire and he did exactly what I asked and more.

I have got to admit John is an excellent lover.

&&&&

I was pissed at John for suddenly proposing me with marriage. We haven’t even know each other that long to even start talking about marriage. Hell, there isn’t even a talk about it yet and here he was, cornering me with a proposal?! What.the.hell? And when I acted surprised and confused and absolutely against it, he got really quiet and withdrawn. When I asked him about it, he gave me the silent treatment. Seriously?

He acted like a maiden I deflowered or something and now demanding I marry him as a responsibility.

I sighed in frustration. At the risk of calling myself bitchy, I really think John is too needy and I don’t like it. He’s wonderful man but why is he in a hurry with our relationship? And in the first place, this isn’t actually a real relationship!

I contacted Luke and asked him how long I am meant to watch over John and if I really have to go through a fake marriage with him. I actually got order from the above to do it. Do everything within my power to make John happy and make him stay attached to me.

&&&&

John got shot, because of me. He was protecting me from a drive-by shooting. I was trying to talk to him but he stubbornly ignoring me and then he did that, protecting me again. How could he be so stupid?

I was getting emotional as I waited for him in his hospital bed. This was supposed to be a simple assignment so why did it went too far like this? John got hurt because I choose to be a PI while inserting myself in his life.

Thankfully his wound is not severe. When he woke up, I said 'yes’ to him. At first he is confused but when he realized what I meant, he smiled brightly.

After he got out of hospital, he become more affectionate with me even in public. I don’t do PDA, I only did that before to piss that Joan.

I was suspicious with the shooting though. Things seemed to happen around me and John which kind of pushes us together. I asked Luke if he or someone from above arranged that but he had no idea. He did promise to poke around for me.

&&&&

Thankfully we both agreed on a small wedding. In fact, I vetoed wedding dress. I wore a simple white dress on the day of our marriage and we signed on a piece of paper I didn’t bother to look twice with a fake priest arranged by Luke.

I moved into John’s house. We shared a room together and I settled into our marriage life. John still disapproved of how I handle my PI job from time to time especially when he found out I got hurt. One day, I got home with busted lips from my interfering a fight between crazy divorced couple and the dark expression that flashed across his face literally give me chill. I explained to him that it was just an accident and he really need to stop having constipated face every time I got a little hurt.

John is evidently angered by me dismissing his concern. He grabbed both of my wrists and demanded I paid attention to him. I flinched at his reaction and he apologized sort of.

Thankfully, afterward I only got small cases like tracking a missing dog or stolen family heirloom. The school is out on holiday. John wanted to assist me in my work. I narrowed my eyes at him unhappily. It is almost like he want to take over my life or something. But then when I saw the childlike delight on his face when he found the missing dog or successfully retrieving the lost item, I ended up allowing him to come along.

“You’ve got to teach me about that happy coincidence trick…” I said.

“(name), I wouldn’t know how to. I just do it.”

I pouted. “Just say that you didn’t want to teach me that.”

John and I accidentally got involved with a very scary pregnant woman whose water broke and she was cursing everyone during the entire birth while the ambulance is nowhere to be found. But the look on John’s face though when he deliver that woman’s baby… I almost worried that he’s going to demand we have a children but thankfully he didn’t.

John always gazed at me with that genuine expression. No one ever look at me that way before, no one but him. I told him as much. He would kiss my neck gently and told me that everyone who couldn’t really see me for me is a fool.

And I wonder if he really see me. I lied to him, I still do, but did he know? I become unsettled at the thought of being played by him. I become determine to find out why they wanted John observed and who he really is.

&&&&

Luke is frantic when he called me about Rose. Rose was that man’s companion. The Doctor. The most feared man in universe, the face-changer, the man who is capable of being kind as much as he is able to be cruel. I froze when I saw the many known faces of the Doctor on my tablet and one of them clearly is John.

I discreetly scanned John while he was sleeping and found out he is a human, only have one heart. But the Doctor has two hearts. What the hell is happening? Someone has turned him into a human. But who? And for what purpose? Are they planning to kill him? But why assigned the Division to keep an eye on him?

I groaned in frustration. What is the big guy even thinking to accept a job that involved the Doctor? What the fuck is wrong with him? He had made me a target for the Doctor’s wrath for when he returned to his true self if that even possible. I was really, really frightened by the Doctor. I heard the stories and it wasn’t good. I know he is capable of being kind but from my side, I only ever heard his famous cruelty of no second chance.

The Doctor is a good man. That was everyone always said. But they also said he is the most cruelest man ever. When he suffered lost of his companions, he snapped and enraged at the world. He called himself the Time Lord Victorious and that the law of time is his.

Although he’s getting better, according to rumor, that he’s making amend and taking both old and new companion again, saving people and planet and whatnot, the Time Lord Victorious still existed in him and still come out to play from time to time. And that is what make the Doctor is properly frightening.

I found out that his current companion is Martha Jones and Mickey Smith. So I grabbed my vortex manipulator and went to investigate them. From what I can tell, they have lost the Doctor. I was off my game apparently because someone put a gun on my back. I recognized him as one of the Doctor’s former companion, Jack Harkness. He found me lurking around and caught me.

They interrogated me. I have no choice but to tell the truth about John when Jack force-feed me a truth drug. They demanded I bring them to John.

&&&&

“Hand off my wife.” John said coldly as he pointed my gun toward Jack and the others when he saw me being kept as prisoner after we entered our house via vortex manipulator.

When Jack, Martha and Mickey realized that John really did not recognize them, they let me go. They were surprised to learn that John had married me.

John fussed over me. “Are you alright, (name)?"

I didn’t say anything. It was my first time seeing him carrying a gun and for some reason, he frightened me greatly. I tried to calm myself.

The companion furiously asked me what did I do to him even though I am as clueless as they are. Jack demanded that I take them to the Division and to the client that asked us to keep an eye on John.

John demanded everyone to shut up. He glanced at me, expecting me to explain but I didn’t. I refused to look at him. It was Martha who tell him all he needed to know.

John looked calm after he learned the truth from Martha. He scrutinize me with his eyes. "So it was all a lie.” He said, sounding strangely not surprised.

“You are way too calm about this.” I said. “Are you sure you really have no idea?”

John looked pissed now. “Would you like me to be angry, wife?” he spatted the word with venom.

I flinched. “You are the one who asked me, remember?”

“And do you even love me or was it all just an assignment to you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!”

I looked away. “It wasn’t real.”

“You’re lying.” he said, almost pleading me.

“Am not. Ask Jack, he forced me to eat a truth drug. I can only speak the truth.”

Jack confirmed it.

John looked sad and defeated. I wanted to hug him but all my instinct is telling me to run. I could see it within John, the being called the Doctor, and I am afraid.

&&&&

I was forced to help figuring out what happened to the Doctor and who turned him into a John.

Martha said something about chameleon circuit? And something about a watch with perception filter. But John and I never saw a watch like the one Martha described.

I have no choice but to enlist Luke. He is pissed at me for ruining the assignment and for involving him with this mess. I glared at him. I blame the Division, what kind of idiot would willingly agree to mess with the Doctor in the first place anyway? The big boss should have his head cut off for being massively stupid.

&&&&

One mess after another later, we finally found the information regarding the Doctor’s Time Lord consciousness. Jack basically has to threaten to dangle the big guy off the window before he told us about the client who made the payment for John case.

I was surprised that John willingly agreed to follow on it despite knowing the return of the Doctor means the end of John Smith. John has not talked me to me since I told him everything between us wasn’t real.

Luke provided John with the tablet containing information regarding the Doctor. And he learned about Rose. “She was real…” he whispered in awe.

I almost felt jealous. Almost. I know I didn’t have a right to be jealous. So I turned away from him to focus on other things.

&&&&

I have no idea how someone got the drop off the Doctor. Apparently during an adventure with Martha and Mickey in some alien planet, they got ambushed by a young woman called Kovarian and her army. She tricked the Doctor into a chameleon circuit of her own. The Doctor is smart but he knew he can also be thick sometimes. He had no choice but to follow along Kovarian’s demand if he want to keep his companion safe.

Kovarian had promised to let Martha and Mickey go after the Doctor follow through with the chameleon circuit. And so he did. His time lord consciousness was stored into a special hourglass and the energy is being used for experiments. For what purpose, no one know.

True to her words, Kovarian did drop Martha and Mickey on Earth where they frantically contacted Torchwood for help in locating the Doctor. What they didn’t know is that Kovarian also dropped the Doctor turned human on Earth under watchful eyes of the Division. The companion had thought that she would have taken the Doctor off on another planet.

&&&&

I managed to retrieve that damned hourglass and I pushed it on Martha’s hand. I was done with them. I was done with John freaking Smith and the Doctor. While everyone is thoroughly distracted with breaking the hourglass and the time lord consciousness forced its way into John, I ran. I was a coward. I couldn’t stand any longer be in their presence.

Kovarian, having lost and cornered, decided to hold the Earth hostage. Now, they really need the Doctor to save the world.

&&&&

I cursed the big boss for putting me in this position. I packed up my stuff and decided to go on the run before the Doctor come for me. I picked up a bio damper to throw him off my signature in case he decided to track me. And I ran and I prayed and I hope he never bother with me.

But, of course, it was only a matter of time before he find me. Luke warned me about the Doctor coming to Division demanding to meet with the active called (name) (last name). I ditched the communication device I had on my person knowing its likely Luke’s warning call is traced by the Doctor. And I ran again.

That dreaded day finally come when I saw the Doctor’s Tardis one day.

John, no, the Doctor got out of the Tardis. He was alone. He glanced at me and said, “Hello, wife.”

“I didn’t want any trouble, Doctor.” I said quickly. “I didn’t know that John is you. Had I known, I would never…”

The Doctor regarded me curiously. “You are afraid of me.”

I didn’t reply as if that is not obvious considering who he is.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I know you didn’t have anything to do with Kovarian.”

“Then why are you looking for me?”

“I just would love to talk…”

I stared at him flabbergasted. “Talk? About what?”

He shrugged. “You are my wife.”

“It wasn’t even a real marriage!!” I snapped. I probably shouldn’t have said that but I was really frustrated and confused with the Doctor.

“It was real for john so it was real for me.”

“John is not even real person!”

The Doctor shrugged again as if he can’t see that he’s upsetting me greatly or maybe he know but didn’t care. “You took care of me, sorry, John. And even if it wasn’t real to you, I would like to say thank you.”

I was confused with his line of thought here. What? Shouldn’t he be super mad at me or something?

“I would like to offer you a chance to travel with me in the Tardis just this once.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He looked surprised, his mouth hang open.

“Why would you spend all this time looking for me? Just to say thank you? I’m not stupid, Doctor. What do you really want from me?” I stared at the Tardis behind him. “Are you trying to trick me to get inside the Tardis so you could punish me or something?”

He looked saddened. “You really saw me as the bad guy here, huh?” He noticed some bruise I have on my wrist. He moved to touch me but I stepped backward. He didn’t take another step. “What happened to you?” He gestured to my wrist.

“None of your business.” I spat furiously. I wanted to kick myself in the head for poking the bear.

A dark expression crossed his feature.

I gulped.

He composed himself into a calm and polite manner. “I would like to show you something.” he said as he raised a hand toward me.

I stared at his outstretched hand. “Do I have a choice?”

He didn’t reply for a few second. “I promise you will not be harmed. And if you come with me, you will not regret it.”

I didn’t know what possessed me to accept his words. It was stupid of me.

&&&&

He took me to that night, in the past, the first time John and I had sex. I didn’t recognized it at first. The Doctor brought me to a place, the place where I lost my client and he told me to save her.

I was flabbergasted by him again. “Isn’t that against the rule of time or something?”

“Are you really gonna argue about the rule of time with a Time Lord?” he asked back.

So I did as he asked. I saved my client. But past me had no idea, she still think the client died.

The Doctor arranged for my client to leave town and start a new life.

I didn’t understand why he did this. “Why?” I asked.

“I remembered this night. The night you come to me, sad and lost. I remembered thinking I hated seeing that expression on her face. I want to make her, you, happy just as you made me a happy man that night.”

I blushed when I realized what he’s implying. My mind couldn’t help but having a flashback of that night we spend together.

The Doctor smiled at me. “I would really like it if you come with me, (name). Travel with me in the Tardis. Have adventure together, saving people. I know that’s the reason you love being a PI. Stay with me and we can go anywhere anytime.”

A warning bell rang in my mind for a while now but, being the idiot that I am, I ignored it in favor of that handsome face smiling beautiful lies at me.

&&&&

The Doctor is fiercely protective of me. He didn’t take it well when someone took me as hostage or when I got hurt by someone else’s hand. That part of him reminded me a lot of of my times with John. It also made me very uncomfortable.

One day, I found a piece of paper and I recognized it as my fake marriage certificate with John. But why did the Doctor keep it? And then I frowned when I noticed the signatures on the certificate. What should have been John Smith’s name is now written and signed as the Doctor. What?

I confronted him about it.

“I told you it was real for me.” He said.

“It wasn’t real! This is a human marriage custom! You are not even human!” I yelled furiously. I don’t know why I was so angry over this marriage thing. I felt like I have been imprisoned and I didn’t even realized it. “How did you even change the name in the first place?” I asked. “In case you don’t know, the priest who officiate our fake wedding is also fake. So this paper…” I waved it around. “…is meaningless!!”

“He was a real priest. I made sure of it.”

Did he seriously crossing his own time stream just to make sure we have a real marriage? I can’t believe it. He really creep me out right now.

“It is still legal and binding. You are my wife.”

“Like hell I am!!” I yelled. “I’m not your wife! You are an alien and thus the marriage is invalid!”

“Not to me.”

“You can’t do that! You can’t just decide on your own which rules apply to you and which didn’t!”

“Does it bother you that much to be married to me?” he asked. “Do you hate me so much?”

“You are frightening me.”

“I didn’t want you to be afraid of me. I would never harm you willingly.”

“Take me back.”

“What?”

“Drop me back on earth or wherever, I don’t care! I just want to be away from you.”

The Doctor looked hurt but to my surprise he dropped me back on earth. “I will come back for you when you have calm down.” he said.

I wanted to scream. “No, Doctor, I want you to leave me alone.”

“I can’t.”

Oh I believe him. He is not going to let me go just like that. I started to mentally making a plan to run. But he took one look at me and he knew.

“Don’t run from me, (name).” He warned. “No matter how far you run, even to the end of time, I will always find you…forever.”

“Well, Doctor, considering you are immortal and I am not, I don’t think you will have forever.” I said cruelly.

He flinched at that. He gazed at me with a profound sadness that made me feel guilty. And then a darker expression replaced it.

I froze under his gaze. In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t say that last bit.

The Tardis vanished out of sight and I can finally breath easier.

&&&&

I contacted everyone I know and begged them to help me hide from the Doctor but one word of the Doctor and they all shut me down. They wouldn’t want to risk the wrath of Time Lord Victorious.

Not even the Doctor’s companion willing to help me.

“I don’t know what he see in you.” Jack replied with disgust. “But you obviously make him happy. Even though you seem to bring a darker version of him out…”

No, I am not, I wanted to scream.

“After losing Rose, you are the first he allowed himself to love…”

And that gave me an idea. If I could get Rose back… I heard she was trapped on the other universe. If I could get her back here, then maybe he will let me go. According to Jack, Rose is the light that make the Doctor a better person. If she is here, then maybe whatever darkness the Doctor harbour will be gone and I will be set free.

With that new mission in mind, I ran again from the Doctor while discreetly trying to enlist help in opening a breach on the other universe.

The Doctor always found me, like he promised. He rescued me from danger sometimes. He traveled with someone called Donna now. He introduced me to her but not as his wife to my great relief. He gave me a look that said to behave so I obeyed.

Donna excitedly greeted me. She was a nice enough woman and I like her. She begged me to travel with her in the Tardis, claiming she need a woman’s company.

I had no choice but to agree.

&&&&

Turned out I didn’t have to do anything about Rose. Because she is coming to our world herself. The fierce woman who love the Doctor and the woman he still loves. I can smell the freedom already.

The brightened smile on his face when he saw her is annoying to me. I don’t understand why I still have such complicated feeling for the Doctor. I tried to pushes my feeling down.

Then the Daleks happened.

And then there is a meta-crisis doctor who decided to call himself John. Both version of the Doctor are stupidly in love with Rose, I can tell. Does that mean I am a rebound?

I don’t know why I am so upset. Getting away from the Doctor is what I want, right? Was I in love with the idea of the Doctor loving me or do I truly have feeling for him? I closed myself and thought of the times with John. I did enjoy his company. I also enjoy the Doctor’s company. But what does this mean?

Then everything spiraled out of control. The Doctor had to seal the breach to the other universe but he left both Rose and metacrisis doctor on the other side.

No. Just No. This wasn’t supposed to… I was so confused.

In the end, I was left alone with the Doctor once more now that Donna is also gone, having her memory erased. Seeing him standing alone, the loneliest man in the universe, how could I keep running from him?

So I stayed in the darkness with him.

&&&&

I was screaming.

Why am I screaming?

Pain. So much pain.

Where am I?

I forced myself to open my eyes. I was restrained to a medical bed and there is sort of machine whirred around me.

I froze when I saw him. The Doctor. But he wasn’t alone. There are other people I didn’t recognize.

“We will have our forever, (name)…”

The Time Lord Victorious allowing the experiment on his so-called wife in order to prolong her lifespan.

I shouldn’t have put that thought about 'not having forever’ in his mind. Now I’m paying the price.

He didn’t lie. He didn’t harm me. He let them do the the dirty work for him.

I sobbed and screamed again.

A/N: I was listening to Seven Devils by Florence and the Machine on a loop while writing this hence the title.

#tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #dark!doctor #yandere!doctor who #shiefenwrites

134 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 5 years

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Ok, so. First of all, I freaking love your writig, its *chefs kiss* delicious. Second of all I have this theory. Its that the only way they will say anything seriously nice about the other is if they are not saying it to each other. Could you write something about Beth defending Rio to someone (maybe a PTA mom or Ruby) or Rio defending Beth to someone (maybe Dean) and the other one overhears? Kinda the opposite of 'eavesdroppers never hear nice things' kinda thing. Sorry for the ramble!

Thank you so much! You’re so sweet!

So, I’ve had so many requests for fic in The Center and Circumference / domestic fic universe, I didn’t realise that that wasn’t in your request until I’d already finished this prompt, haha. I hope that’s okay! Anyway, it’s pretty long, so I hope you like it :-)

He’s halfway through a meeting with one of their newer clients – some watery-eyed, broad-faced fuck with a propensity already for overstepping – when Rio’s cell buzzes in the back pocket of his jeans, and shit, he thinks, gaze flicking to his right on the table where his work cell sits uninterrupted. It’s ain’t that.

“I can manage the extra cars,” the client says across from him, unperturbed, shifting forwards slightly in his seat, and Rio arches an eyebrow, feeling his cell quiet down, then the tell-tale buzz of a voicemail left after it. There are only a few people it could be on this line – Elizabeth, probably about dinner tonight or somethin’ (she’s careful about calling his work cell for work-related things after all), his mom, probably about dinner on Sunday night, or - - his jaw already twitching in annoyance - - Glenvale Elementary School.

“That’s a lotta product,” he tells the client, while telling himself it could be Danny’s teacher – Elizabeth had kept him home sick yesterday with what she was sure were the early signs of an ear infection, and she is usually right about those sorts of things; or Emma’s teacher, maybe – giving her another prize for highest raised hand or cleanest desk or some shit, but damn, who’s he kidding?

If it’s the school, he knows who it’s about.

“I can move it,” the client insists. “It’s only three more than my guys are already doing, and I’ve got a few new territories I’m exploring for distribution.”

It’s the way the guy says it more than anything that makes Rio train a lazy eye back on him – the tone just the wrong side of desperate. Rio knows that tone – the tone of somebody who’s promised someone more than he can offer.

Rocking forwards a little in his own seat, Rio knits his fingers together, drops them as one to the table in front of him, his brow furrowing in faux confusion as he does it, and he’s about to ask exactly why this dumbass needs three extra cars worth of pills when his cell starts buzzing again in the back pocket of his jeans.

And just - -

If it is the school - -

If one of them is sick or hurt or something, just - -

Fuck.

He lurches to his feet.

“We’ll start with one,” he tells the guy, already reaching for his cell, and when the client opens his mouth to try and haggle, Rio silences him quickly with a look. Once he’s sure the guy isn’t going to make trouble, he drags his gaze away just long enough to make eye contact with Demon, who’s standing, folded-armed, by the door.

“Demon’ll take you through the, ah –” he rolls his free hand out at the wrist, making a show out of considering this, his other hand still occupied with his buzzing cell. “Paperwork, dot the I’s, cross them t’s. You do okay with the one, we can talk about two next time, yeah?”

And at least even the mention of Demon is enough to shut the guy up for real.

What can he say? Demon’s got a rep, and what sort of boss would Rio be if he didn’t know how to use it? He smirks a little, watches as Demon moves to sit down on the edge of the table, inches away from the client, looking down at him, and when he’s sure Demon’s got it, Rio slips easily out of the room.

He’s still walking down the short hallway of the warehouse to his current office when he finally actually looks at his buzzing cell, feeling equally pissed off and vindicated at the Glenvale Elementary number blearing back up at him. And sure, maybe he’s pinching his nose as he answers the call, elbowing his way into his office – expecting what exactly, he has no fucking clue. He’s given up on guessing when it comes to Marcus and Jane. If they’ve started another fire though, he swears to god - -

“Mr Vela,” the administrator says, a little breathless, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “Thanks for taking our call. We understand you’re a very busy man.”

Rio just hums, folding down into his desk chair.

“The kids aight?”

“Um, yes, yes, the kids are all fine, we were just - - we were wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming in? Now? Or whenever soonest you could get here?”

He checks his watch, rocking his jaw in irritation. He’s not sure he can sit through another meeting with Marcus and Jane’s teacher, watch him make cow eyes at Elizabeth, blush like he’s fourteen when she laughs at some joke so lame it may as well be leavin’ his mouth with scuffed loafers and a sweater vest.

And - -

Wait - -

He purses his lips a little.

“Yeah, ain’t you got some PTA mom bake off on right now?” he asks. “My partner should be there already. In your cafeteria and whatnot.”

Despite his best efforts to get her not to be. There were better uses of her time after all, but she kept insisting it was good for the kids to see her there, for the school to see her there too, and they’d fought enough about it, because yeah, sure – Rio was down for the recitals and the games and even the family mixers (which - - ugh), but it wasn’t like the kids were even around for the PTA shit, and besides, Rio (and Elizabeth, in name at least) had donated half a library to the damn place. Enough that the school would turn a blind eye to any of the shit Rio did if he needed to (namely taking the kids out at no notice if shit went down. Or if it didn’t. Whatever. Sometimes he just wanted to take ‘em to LegoLand).

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling,” the administrator says a little nervously. “There’s been an incident with some of the parents. In fact, with your partner. If you could come in as soon as you could, we’d be grateful.”

***

And really, this shit is just hilarious.

He’d gotten a few of the details over the phone from the administrator, but honestly he doesn’t think anything will really beat walking into a first grade classroom and seeing Elizabeth on one of those tiny little plastic seats, a handful of scratches at her temple like someone’s tried to gauge out her eye and missed, some more at her chest, the neck of her pink blouse torn open and her neck and chest smeared with frosting.

Rio arches an eyebrow at her as he steps in, and Elizabeth puts her nose up and everything, a blush dusting her cheeks, all prim like they ain’t gonna be finding blood and frosting when she pulls her bra off later, but then - - he bites back a grin. That sounds kinda fun.

She’s doing better than the woman beside her anyway – some Bargain Bin Barbie, who has two cotton balls shoved up her bloody nose, the start of a killer black eye (and damn, when had Elizabeth’s right hook gotten that good?) and cake in her peroxide blonde hair. Some Ryan Seacrest-type who’s gotta be her husband sits beside her, arms folded over his chest, looking for all the world like it’s the last place he wants to be.

No imagination, Rio thinks, his jaw rocking in amusement, eyes shifting back to Elizabeth.

He can’t think of a place he’d rather be.

“Ah, wonderful, we’re all here.”

The voice sounds from behind the desk, and Rio jerks his head around to see some guy who must be a part of the faculty – tall and lanky wearing the ugliest fucking tie Rio’s ever seen. The guy gestures him out vaguely towards the back of the classroom. “Would you mind taking a seat.”

Striding forwards, Rio grabs one of the little plastic chairs from where they’re stacked in the corner, dropping it beside Elizabeth and sitting heavily down in it. As soon as he’s seated, the guy looks between them, ringing his hands a little nervously, shuffling in his own seat.

“I’ve called you in today because your wives –”

“They’re not even married,” Bargain Barbie snips, and Elizabeth’s head rotates around so quickly she’s like that little girl in The Exorcist.

“It’s 2019, Tania, marriage hasn’t been a measure of a relationship’s worth in at least twenty years. Something you’d know if you read something other than the back of your box-mix cupcakes.”

And, well, damn, Rio thinks, sucking in his lips to swallow a laugh as he looks back at Ugly Tie. Vaguely he can see Bargain Barbie (or Tania, he supposes, but whatever, he doesn’t care) make a noise of abject outrage – whether at being called out for her apparently dated ideas or the insinuation that her cupcakes aren’t made from scratch, Rio has no idea. Maybe it’s both, with the way she turns about nine different shades of red. Beside her, her husband suddenly grabs her hand, dragging it into his lap to stop her from hitting Elizabeth again.

Or, well, trying to. No matter how funny this whole thing is, Rio’s not exactly inclined to let anyone touch her.

“Your partners,” Ugly Tie corrects nervously. “Were involved in an incident in the school cafeteria ahead of this afternoon’s PTA Bake Off.”

“We weren’t involved in an incident,” the blonde hisses, flailing her free hand out in Beth’s direction. “She attacked me.”

“I did not attack you,” Elizabeth replies, and Bargain Barbie snorts while the colour drains from Ugly Tie’s face, like he thinks fists are about to fly again. He teeters nervously at the edge of his seat.

“Witnesses did say you pushed her face first into the cake display, Ms. Marks.”

Witnesses, Rio thinks with a grin. Like this is an episode of CSI. These people really are a trip.

Elizabeth looks at Ugly Tie at that and then quickly paints on that Stepford look – the one that’s all Bambi Eyes and Molly Manners – the one that, despite himself, still makes his dick twitch.

“Maybe I moved a little suddenly,” Beth allows. “But honestly, it was an accident, Ed - - can I call you Ed?”

Ed pinks a little, stuttering out a yes, and Rio has to resist the urge to snort.

“I guess I was just a little swept up in the moment of it – you really do just run the best PTA fundraising bake off – and I mean, I’d know, because I’ve participated in more than my share, being an active member of the school community - - ”

“You’re so full of shit,” Bargain Barbie snaps, arm flailing out of Seacrest’s grip, and honestly, Rio thinks, amused, she’s kind of got her there. Still, Ugly Tie holds up a hand to both of them, as if finding his train of thought again.

“The reason we’ve called your partners in, is it seems like the fight stemmed from broader tensions between your families.”

And that shuts them both up.

Rio glances curiously over at the other couple, racking his head to think of any time Elizabeth’s so much as mentioned a Tania, but he comes up blank. He knows there’s a Margot who’s trying to get the school on a raw food diet, and a Penny who always fights it when Elizabeth tries to move the school away from celebrating religious holidays (“It should be all or nothing,” Beth insists. “If the school is going to keep celebrating Christmas and Easter, why can’t they celebrate Eid and Diwali too? It’s 2019!” – apparently that’s her buzz phrase at the moment), but - - no Tania.

“Anyone?” Ugly Tie asks them all now, and Elizabeth and Bargain Barbie both sit up a little taller, pointedly maintaining their silence, and damn, they’re more tight-lipped than half Rio’s boys. He eyes them both with a vague interest as Ugly Tie sighs.

“Fine. A two week ban on all PTA activities,” he says, and Rio could almost laugh at the look of abject horror on both Elizabeth and Tania’s faces. “And you need to apologise to each other and to the other members of the PTA.”

“Mr. Hollander, the Spring Fling Dance planning committee nominations are next week,” Bargain Barbie cries, and Elizabeth opens her mouth probably to say something equally embarrassing, and Rio figures that’s probably their cue. He grabs Elizabeth by the elbow, lurching to his feet and dragging her up with him, and before she can dig her heels in in that way she does, he’s nodding at Ugly Tie in acknowledgement, saying a quick “Sounds fair,” and dragging them both out of the room.

***

Turns out her sister’s shitty car had croaked again that morning, so Elizabeth had lent her the mama van on the condition she drop her for the bake off and pick up the brood after school, which is fine, he figures, pulling out of the school carpark, Elizabeth all tightly wound beside him in the passenger seat, her cheeks red and her posture stiff.

“You gonna tell me what that was about?” he asks as he gets onto the main road. He really should go back to work, but fuck it, he thinks. There’s nothing on Demon can’t handle, and if there is, he knows how to reach him anyway.

“No,” she snips, and Rio casts a look at her out of the corner of his eye, and it takes him a minute to realise that the red of her cheeks isn’t embarrassment like he’d figured, but rather that it’s still anger. It’s enough to make him shift in his seat – it ain’t like she doesn’t get mad, just she doesn’t usually get mad about PTA stuff, at least not like this – more just tense and exasperated and sometimes frustrated in a way he can usually diffuse if he looks at her or touches her right. But this - -

He ain’t seen her like this recently.

The car slows at the traffic lights, and he uses the opportunity to reach over, push her hair out of her face, run a thumb over one of the scratches at her temple.

“Want me to call my sister? Get her to bring over a rabies shot?”

It works like he’d wanted it to. Beth exhales a laugh, her gaze drifting over to him, watching as he takes his hand back to the steering wheel of the car. They get another couple of blocks when he feels it, the slow boil of her anger again, simmering beside him in the car, and they’re not even that far from home, but fuck it, he thinks, he doesn’t like the idea of her going straight into one of her furious cleaning or cooking frenzies, so he pulls over.

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t react, not even when he turns in his seat to look at her, taking in the tight lock of her shoulders, the tighter one of her jaw.

“Elizabeth,” he starts, and she looks out the window, away from him. “Come on, ma.”

She rolls her eyes at him, like he’s the one being ridiculous, and he pointedly pulls the keys out of the ignition, watching as she turns enough to scowl at him, folding her arms across her chest. Whatever. No skin off his nose, he thinks, leaning back against the driver’s side door, his eyes not leaving her, he’s got all day, and it’s only another minute, maybe two, before she’s flailing her arms in the air, her cheeks reddening all over again.

“She called you a drug dealer,” Beth whisper-yells at him, like anyone can hear them in his car, and shit, is that all? Rio just laughs.

“And you upset about that?”

He knows she is – can see it in the heave of her (still frosting-covered) chest, in the way her lower lip quivers, her eyelashes clump. Can hear it in the tightness of her voice, and maybe he should’ve gotten her home first, gotten her on her back in their bed, breathless, legs trembling, made her forget about it the best way he knew how, but - -

“She meant it as an insult,” she says hotly, interrupting his train of thought, and Rio pops an eyebrow at her, because no shit. “And it’s not like she knows you are one. She thinks you work flipping cars with me.”

“So what?” he asks, shrugging, and Elizabeth frowns over at him, finally turning around in her seat to face him. She’s still all flushed, flustered, and she seems pissed at him now when she flails her arms out at him, and voice shrill, says:

“So what? So - - so what if she says that sort of thing in front of her sons, who go to school with your son. What if they tell all their friends about what Marcus’ daddy does for a living?”

Shaking his head, Rio can’t quite take her eyes off her, because seriously – sometimes he thinks she figures he popped out of the ground the day he showed up in her kitchen, like Marcus did that day in the park.

“Trust me, it won’t be nothin’ Marcus ain’t heard before.”

And at least that shuts her up, her mouth closing, her posture sagging a little back against the passenger side door. He just watches her, briefly considering putting the keys back in the ignition and driving them home, but then - - he knows her enough to know that that ain’t all it is bothering her. He frowns at her, drums his fingers on his leg, and then looks away, something sharp spiking in his gut.

“You worried about your kids?” he asks, voice a little tighter than he wants it to be, and when Beth shrugs, his frown deepens.

“It’s a part of the deal,” he says. “Shit, you know what I look like, ma.”

And she doesn’t reply to that either, and that sharpness in his gut peaks into something uncomfortable. He rocks forwards a little in his seat, using the momentum of it to sit back harder, to bump his back back against the door.

“This a problem?” he asks her. “You want me to talk to the kids about how their new stepdad’s gonna make ‘em whispered about on the playground?”

“I don’t care about the kids!” she yelps, and he blinks, unable to contain his surprise when she suddenly backpedals. “I mean, of course I do, that’s not - -”

She exhales, the sound harsh in the hollow of his car, and she won’t look at him when she says:

“She can’t talk about you like that. She doesn’t know anything about you.”

And that’s - - not what he was expecting. He blinks at her, that sharpness in him dulling, squinting a little at her as he takes her in.

“She can do whatever she wants, ma."

Because shit, she can. Rio wouldn’t have wasted his time talking to her anyway, but hell, if she ain’t gonna pretend to make nice with other parents, he sure as hell ain’t either.

“Fine,” Beth says finally, sniffing a little. “But actions have consequences, isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

He could almost laugh at that, because she’s right, he is always telling her that, but he means it more in the context of handling a slippin’ employee, or her own tendency to steamroll into situations like she’s - - hell, like she’s one of their seven-year-olds.

“And what? Talkin’ shit gonna get her hit?”

“Yes,” Beth tells him firmly, nodding, sitting up a little straighter in her seat, her chin up, all defiant, and Rio snorts.

“You all about defendin’ my honour now?” he says it patronisingly, expecting her to get embarrassed in that way she does when she thinks he’s making fun of her, but that’s not what happens at all.

“Yes,” she says emphatically instead, and Rio blinks, surprised, and then before he can say anything else, she keeps talking.

“I told you. She can’t talk about you like that, and I’m not going to let her. And just for the record, I like the way you look, so.”

She stops then, looking over at him briefly, then quickly turning around in the seat, facing forwards again, all prim again like there ain’t cake in her hair, and Rio can’t quite stop his grin.

“Yeah, I knew that last one, ma,” he says, and Beth pinks, but she smiles, gaze finding him again. She bites her lip a little, looks up at him through her lashes, and Rio just - - shit. He can feel how goofy his smile is, quickly tapering it into a smirk as best he can.

“You really push her into that display?” he asks her after a minute of quiet, and Beth wrinkles her nose, blushing for real this time, but still. Something in her face, it’s a little proud.

“Punched her too.”

He arches an eyebrow, looking dutifully impressed, and she preens before she can help herself, holding up a hand at that so he can see the start of the bruises on her knuckles. He laughs, shaking his head, grabbing her hand to inspect it, and shit, if he doesn’t find them cute too – all dainty like her, little blooms of purple, like flower buds, and ugh. Even thinkin’ that, he shakes his head at himself, but presses his lips to them all the same, and he doesn’t hear it, or even see it, but some part of him feels her breath hitch, and it’s a relief really – that he can feel just how sprung she is too.

“Okay, bruiser,” he tells her, twisting back in his seat, pushing the keys back into the ignition, and he goes to drop her hand, but she threads their fingers instead, and he holds it there, against his thigh, the whole ride home.

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #the center and circumference #my fic #prompt fills #welcome to my ama

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ehstarwar · 4 years

Text

the gentler gamester is the soonest winner (3/4)

“And that reminds me,” Poe says. “I got you a present.”

Now this piques Rey’s interest.

“Is it the cupcake I saw at the supermarket last Wednesday? I’ve never seen so much icing on one piece of cake; it was truly a remarkable confection.”

“Um, not exactly.” Rey tries not to let her face fall too much; she was still getting a gift, after all. “I invited Ben.”

Poe throws a party and is decidedly not trying to get Ben and Rey together.

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2K

Read on AO3

Notes: you know that saying, 'you're going to hurt but it's gonna be worth it'? y'all know that one? tis a good mantra to have for this chapter, i think

Chapter 3: when I waked, I cried to dream again

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Rey tells Poe for the 100th time that day.

“Ugh, Rey. It is past midterms. Everyone needs to blow off a little steam. Including you. Especially you, as a matter of fact.” Rey tried not to frown too hard and look like the petulant child she felt she was at the moment.

“I don’t need to blow off steam. I need to figure out a sufficient way to write about it for my physics class.”

Poe sighs and spins the office chair that was acting as a salon chair around to face him.

“It is thursday. Thirsty Thursday. The day universally decided by college students as the day to get fucked up. I have ben very gracious about my leniency with you missing Thirsty Thursdays this semester because I know you have a large course load and have to study more often than not.” Rey was ready to accept his apology and move on and have a grand night; if Poe stopped at that, which, of course, he couldn’t.

“BUT,” he begins again, and Rey does not repress the eye roll,”this is probably the last week you’re going to accept my offer to come to Thirsty Thursday for the rest of the semester. And I, for one, want to hang out with one of my best friends before she throws herself into a self-induced solitary state for finals. So please, try and enjoy the fun events your peers and I put on for you. Please.”

Rey huffs. “You’re not even a college student,” She grumbles. Poe grins triumphantly, clearly the winner of this argument. “How would your boss, President Organa, feel about you corrupting students with wild parties?”

“Your argument is invalid because one: Leia Organa is the President of the University and Amilyn Holdo is the Director of Admission, and therefore, my boss. And two, if anyone knows the benefits of a good gathering, it’s Leia! She was quite the wild child in her day,” Poe says, expressing great admiration for President Organa. She felt it too, albeit, for different reasons.

“And that reminds me,” Poe suddenly swung the chair back around and Rey was forced to grip the handles to steady herself. “I got you a present.”

Now this piques Rey’s interest.

“Is it the cupcake I saw at the supermarket last Wednesday? I’ve never seen so much icing on one piece of cake; it was truly a remarkable confection.”

“Um, not exactly.” Rey tries not to let her face fall too much; she was still getting a gift, after all. “I invited Ben.”

Reg grips the handles so hard she’s surprised it maintains it molecular structure of plastic.

“Why?”

“You guys were a little weird with each other the other day, but like in a sexy way; like you guys are definitely gonna fuck at some point but neither of you know how to speak to each other. So I figured I’d help things along and invite him.”

Rey’s jaw clenches. She tries to keep her face as passive as possible, which is proving to be… challenging.

“Ben is essentially a superior. We can’t fuck. And we don’t want to. It’s not going to happen.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Poe! I’m serious. It’s… not like that.” If it weren’t for the curling wand wrapped in her hair and being utilized by Poe, Rey would’ve stormed out of there and right to the supermarket for her mountain-of-icing cupcake. She’s sure of it.

“Well, whatever it’s like or not like, he’s coming.”

“How do you know? You said he never comes to things like this.”

“Ben actually responded to me. He said: ‘I’ll think about it’, which is Solo-speak for ‘yeah, I’m coming’.”

Rey grumbles to herself for a few moments, trying not to bite her nails. A nervous habit she’s been trying to break since before her parents left her. She wonders about Ben’s parents for a moment before stomping that thought down.

“I will agree to stay for the majority of the party tonight as long as you promise to never mess with my love-life again, got it?” She points at Poe through the mirror, trying to be as intimidating as possible for someone with butterfly clips holding parts of their hair back, can.

“So you admit, Ben is apart of your love life?” The trademark Dameron smirk flashed across Poe’s face.

Rey just frowned and tried to take a power nap while he worked. She wouldn’t give Poe the satisfaction of being right.

Even if he was.

The thing about Poe is, he don’t just throw a party; he throws The Party. He has the miraculous ability to turn any setting into an Animal House level of chaos, while perfectly predicting the amount of alcohol needed to sustain such an enviroment. He plays the perfect music at the perfect volume, invites the perfect amount of people, and has the prefect response to any problems that could arise.

Except, of course, the problem of what Rey should say to her teachers assistant who she may have a crush on but shouldn’t have a crush on. Well, Poe would probably have a solution for that too, but not one she’s willing to entertain.

Rey has stationed herself between the kitchen and the living room of Poe’s townhouse, the only place where there wasn’t a ping pong table in her way or sweaty frat dudes grinding on girls with too little clothing. She’s nursing the vodka soda that’s gone flat about twenty minutes ago, but venturing into the kitchen is too much of a risk.

She smiles at people walking by, makes small talk with Kaydel and asks about her all black ensemble (‘It’s a full moon, Rey’ she says, like it’s the most obvious thing), and tries to bide her time until Poe is sufficiently drunk and she can sneak out.

This is also where Ben finds her, when Poe is roughly two shots of Jagermister away from not noticing Rey’s existence.

“Hi,” He says over the music.

“Hey,” She shouts back. They say nothing for a few awkward moments and Rey has time to look Ben over.

The black henley is probably more expensive than her entire wardrobe and his dark wash jeans seem to be his signature. But it is a beautiful signature. One people remark on. One she wants to rip off him. One she wants to walk over in the morning while he cooks her pancakes and bacon.

“You look nice,” Ben says, and Rey realizes she’s staring.

“You too.”

“This is a nice house.”

“Yeah.”

Rey is admittedly not the best conversationalist but this is bad, even for her. Fuck it, she thinks.

“Do you want to get a drink?” She asks. Ben nods, so she grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs. Poe has a hidden mini fridge in his closet, which he uses for facial products, the Really Good Liqour, and emergencies.

This particular moment constitutes and emergency, Rey thinks. One of the social variety.

Ben’s hand is warm and large and she really can’t help it if his fingers lace through hers on their way up the stairs. She also can’t help it if her hips swish a little more than necessary, too.

Rey quickly pulls him into Poe’s room, and heads to the mini fridge.

“Poe has good liquor in here, I think,” She says, pushing his clothes to the side to get to it. When she opens it use, she finds two empty mini-bottles of grey goose, two white claws, and a bottle of water. Thanks for nothing, Dameron. “Well, he always told me he has good liquor in here. White claw?” She holds one out to Ben.

“Um… water will be fine. Thanks,” She passes him the bottle, noticing how his right hand dwarfs it and how his left hand is still intertwined with hers. She makes no move to let him go and neither does he.

They sip their drinks, feeling the bass of whatever EDM hit shake the walls around them. She was waiting for him to make a move. She’d done her part, gotten them here, gotten them alone; it was only fair that Ben give an indication this this isn’t one-sided.

“Do you… like parties?” He asks. His thumb was rubbing distracting circles on the back of her hand.

“Not at all” Not unless you’re here. “Poe had to bribe me.”

“With what?”

Your presence. “A cupcake.”

A slow soft smile spreads across Ben’s lips and Rey accidentally squeezes his hand too hard to be polite.

“Poe told us you never come to parties.” She breaks the silence. The weight of his smile and stare feeling like a warm blanket around her.

“I usually don’t?”

“Did he bribe yo to come, too?”

“Yeah.”

“With a cupcake?”

“No.” He pauses and Rey realizes that they’ve drifted closer together. She can see the outline of his chest through the tight fabric. She can smell the expensive after-shave on his jaw. She can feel the warmth radiating off him, beckoning her closer. “With you.”

Rey doesn’t know who moves first, all she knows that however soft she imagined his lips to be, they’re even softer. His mouth moves against hers, hungry and desperate. She slides her tongue into his mouth, tangling with his. His hands go to cup her head, holding her against him, and hers go to feel him through his shirt.

He pushes her up against the wall, gently probing his leg between hers, keeping her pinned. His mouth moves to pepper kisses across her jaw and she can’t help but cry out. Ben works down her throat, having to lean down to reach it. She feels him; solid and warm and everything she’s ever wanted in a partner.

Rey pulls his face back up to hers, willingly slotting their mouths together again. She gives an experimental rock of her hips against his thigh, causing him to rumble her name. Rey feels the vibrations more than hears his voice and it is by far her favorite way anyones ever said her name.

Suddenly, she feels his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back against the wall and any from him. Ben’s head hangs between them and she hears him muttering creative curse words.

“What’s wrong?” She asks desperately, willing her hands to stop instinctively reaching out towards. him.

“I can’t.”

The words hit her like ice water.

“What?”

“I can’t do this, Rey.” His voice is deeper than she’s heard before and pained.

“Why?” The desperation in her voice is unattractive, she’s sure, but she can’t be bothered with that.

“I’m essentially you teacher. This is… not okay.”

Ben finally looks back up at Rey, still keeping her shoulders firmly back to the wall. She can practically see the emotion swirling in his deep brown eyes, but is to keyed up to make sense of it. After a moment, he lets her go, removing himself and putting a good six feet between them.

“You’re leaving.” It’s a statement she’s said one too many times, but this one stings the most.

“I’m sorry. Pleas just… I’m sorry.”

Ben is out the door before Rey can stop him.

She makes it to her front door before the tears come.

#reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #rey #ben solo x rey #kylo ren x rey #star wars #sw #fan fiction #my work #adam driver #daisy ridley

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silkkpopbonnet · 5 years

Text

7 Nights of Monsta X

This is a tentative run, please let me know what you think of this intro and what’s going on so far. I try to make them as different and believable as possible!

“No woman is going to willingly have sex with you,” Wonho laughed drunkenly. “You’ve never even had sex before!”

I.M. nervously moved around in his chair. “I have!”

Kihyun chuckled from his position on a bean bag on the floor, half falling asleep with the empty soju bottle in his hand. “When? That’s what I want to know.”

I.M.’s cheeks flushed red as he nursed his own glass. His hyungs were drunk and teasing him that was all. Dropping his head a bit he mumbled, and looked around the room. “I don’t do everything with you guys! You don’t know!”

“Leave him alone,” Shownu sat back on the couch, his wide, muscular shoulders taking up the little space between him and Wonho. “Changkyun is a baby.”

“A baby!” I.M. stood up angrily. “I’m 23 goddamn years old! How is that a baby! Fuck that! I’m a man!”

Minhyuk rolled onto the floor. “Don’t upset the baby guys, daddy Shownu won’t like it.”

“Let’s just settle this,” Hyungwon shifted on his feet. “I’m going to call a woman of the night.”

Wonho patted his red cheeks. “An escort?”

“That’s what I said,” Teetering to one side, Hyungwon grabbed his laptop and sat down next to Kihyun and Jooheon who was currently sleeping. “Let’s see what the internet can do for us.”

“Miracles.” Minhyuk shuffled closer, resting his chin on Kihyun’s shoulder as they watched Hyungwon.

“Look at this website, you can look at escorts and order them-”

“Order?” Shownu sat up slowly. “That sounds rude, this isn’t like ordering food.”

“We can eat her.” Minhyuk chuckled.

“Eat who?” Jooheon woke up slowly, wiping the drool from his chin. “We ordering food?”

“No,” Wonho positioned his fist under his chin. “Hyungwon is looking for an escort.”

Jooheon rubbed his eyes. “For who? Me? You’re too kind.”

“If we play this right,” Hyungwon clicked through a few ads. “All of us. Why spend more money than what is needed?”

“Shouldn’t she be for I.M.?” Kihyun and Minhyuk looked at each other before bursting into giggles.

“Do it!” I.M. crossed his arms over his chest, sitting back in his chair. “I’ll show you, I know plenty, she’ll love me and I’ll ruin her for the rest of you.”

The room was silent for awhile, the furious clicking and clacking of Hyungwon’s fingers across the keyboard, the only sound in the room.

“Done,” Hyungwon announced, as he sat back and looked at the range of women’s profiles before them. “Now, what type of woman are we looking for?”

“We aren’t actually doing this are we? Not tonight, come on guys.” Shownu ever the voice of reason tried to pipe up before things got out of control.

“See if someone likes thigh riding, blindfolds and toys.” Wonho tapped his fingers together, as the rest of the guys looked at him with stunned expressions. “What? I like that.”

Minhyuk tapped Hyungwon on the shoulder. “Can she be tall? Slim but a nice round ass, if she likes face fucking that’s a plus.”

“Nasty bastards,” Kihyun shook his head. “All of you, I can’t believe I call you my members and these are the kinks you’re into.”

Wonho shrugged, he didn’t care what anyone thought of him, that much was evident.

“But since we’re taking note of these things.” Kihyun chuckled. “Dark hair and soft eyes, I also like choking and to be choked.”

“My god,” Shownu covered his mouth as he laughed. “I knew you were going to say some freaky shit. I don’t care what she’s into, but pretty and sweet.”

“Well?” Hyungwon looked at the remaining three. “Anything specific?”

“Does it let you filter or something?” Jooheon pulled on the edge of the laptop to see better. “Not too pale, I don’t want to feel like I’m fucking a vampire. She has to have some color to her. Maybe a little voyeurism and role play?”

“What about you Hyungwon-hyung?” I.M. kept his mouth shut as he looked at blonde haired singer.

“I’ll keep my preferences quiet for now.”

“What?” Jooheon and Kihyun exclaimed. “Come on you heard all of ours.”

“Yes, well this is going on my credit card so I can do what I want.” Scanning through a few women, Hyungwon stopped on one that made him do a double take. “Her.”

“Oh yea,” Normally quiet Shownu was on the floor now, staring at the woman on the computer screen.

“Does she have more pictures?” Wonho was crowding the rest of the guys now.

Flicking through a few pictures appreciative hums flowed through the group as they commented on the woman before their eyes.

“I like her.” I.M. smiled.

Shownu nodded. “She seems nice and sweet.”

“I’m gonna find out.” Jooheon chuckled, earning a high five from Kihyun.

A few keystrokes later, Hyungwon closed his laptop and picked up his phone. “When she texts me, I will add all of us to the group chat with her, fair? Until then, I’m going to bed, I’m drunk.”

“She’s not coming tonight?” Wonho stumbled up from the floor as well.

“No, tomorrow night was the soonest she had, which gives us time to sober up and cancel just in case. I’m not gonna vomit on her.”

With that he bid his goodnight and walked into his room closing the door gently behind him.

“He better not cancel.” Jooheon fell to one side before getting up. “He’s right though, I can barely stand, goodnight.”

As the rest of the members made their way to their rooms, Shownu stood in front of I.M. clasping his shoulder gently.

“If they decide to go through with this, don’t feel pressured to do anything that you don’t want to.” He squatted in front of a still sitting I.M. “Hear me?”

“Yes, hyung,” I.M. squared his shoulders. “They just get to me sometimes you know.”

“I know,” Standing up Shownu brought the maknae with him. “Don’t take it to heart.”

“I won’t.”

Nodding his head, Shownu disappeared into his shared room with Jooheon.

Cleaning up the bottles, and cups around the room, I.M. bit his lip thinking about the woman that Hyungwon had messaged. He was going to embarrass himself, he knew it. He tried to look big in front of his hyungs but he was a virgin. Not that there was anything wrong with that! He was proud to have made it this long, of course he’d fingered a few girls and had his dick sucked, but nothing as far as actually having sex. Sighing, he resigned himself to another night of jerking off before heading to bed. Maybe that would relieve some stress.

Alexis Andrews was bored, and for her that was a sin on a Friday night. The nightlife of Seoul was steadily calling her, but something about bouncing from club to club just wasn’t doing it for her right now. Sure, her friends had called and texted and facetimed her, but the buttery bowl of popcorn in front of her was more appealing. That and this Chinese drama she just started was getting interesting. The Emperor’s wife was passing her infant son as his, but he was the child of his best General. Shit was about to get real. Pushing more of the buttery treat into her mouth, Alexis rolled her eyes as her phone chimed again. What did they want now? The notification from the website, startled her. Since moving to Seoul, she had some good traffic and plenty of dates with rich men seeking to get that “foreign” kick out of their system. She even had a regular, he was the one who put her into this fancy high-rise apartment. She was damn near his mistress if she was going to play her cards right. Either way, she smiled at the picture of a young man with blonde hair and thick lips. He was cute, more than that, he was downright fine. Opening the application, she browsed through what he was looking for and wanted.

He was a picky one, wanted a lot too and she was curious as to what level of pervert he was when she saw his last message that he needed someone who was ok with being with six other men.

“Fuck that,” Alexis was about to delete it when she saw the rest of their faces. They looked familiar but she didn’t care enough to see why. They were all incredibly attractive. “K-pop boys?” She wondered out loud to herself, as she flicked back and forth through the three pics he had sent. One of all seven of them. Then split into groups of 3, with the one who applied having sent one pic of himself.

“Hyungwon.” She said and smiled. His lips were definitely his best feature.

Reading the application again, Alexis was trying to decide what to do. “She didn’t do group sex. No trains were going to be ran on her, she was an escort not a $20 prostitute. Instantly, she chided herself, sex work was sex work. No need to shame someone else, but she did have limits and this was one of them.

He had left his number, which was the mark of a serious man and his billing information was in the system for easier access. Ok, so he wasn’t some tool and had an idea of how this worked.

Sighing, she pressed his number and looked at the time. Maybe he was still awake.

“Hello?” Who Alexis assumed was Hyungwon answered sleepily.

“Hi, this is Alexis, you messaged me.”

When it remained quiet, she clarified. “The escort.”

“Yes,” Hyungwon answered excitedly. “Hold please?”

His English was good but she could tell he might have a hard time understanding her. Her Korean was still baby-ish but enough that she could hold a conversation as long as someone didn’t speak fast. Either way, she listened to the shuffling, doors opening and closing as Hyungwon began to speak to someone else.

“Hello? This is I.M.”

“Yea,” She smiled at this voice and wondered who he was in the picture. “This is Alexis, Hyungwon messaged me, the escort.”

“Hello, he’s making sure we don’t mess up. I’m sorry about that.” She could tell he was smiling.

“No, it’s fine, my Korean is patchy, but I do well enough. So, I wanted to tell you guys I don’t do group things. I’m interested but not with all seven of you at the same time.”

She waited while I.M. explained this to Hyungwon.

“I’m sorry, he didn’t mean to make it seem that way. It’s one on one,” I.M. got quiet. “Some may want a threesome, two and you. He isn’t sure.”

“That’s fine,” Alexis chuckled. “I can handle that, I’ll let you guys get back to sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I.M. and Hyungwon answered at the same time. “Goodnight, Alexis.”

“Goodnight, fellas.”

Hanging up, Alexis stretched as she got up from the couch. “Seven guys, Hyungwon and I.M.” She was instantly attracted to I.M.’s voice, the rich sound of it and the way he pronounced his words. Hyungwon had a good voice as well but it was his picture the way he stared at the camera that made her womb lurch inside of her.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day for sure.

Pre-Game

#monsta x #7 nights is back #7 nights of monsta x #hyungwon #I.M.#shownu #kihyun #minhyuk #wonho #jooheon

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raeynbowboi · 5 years

Text

Top 10 Disney Villains

10. King Candy Wreck-It Ralph (2012)

Although he’s newer to the villain roster, King Candy was a well-written villain who served as a perfect blend of humorous and genuinely threatening. He also tied very nicely into the themes of the film, which makes him stand out in my memory as a good villain, because I take more than just personality and actions into account when judging characters, but also role in the narrative, and how they support the themes and ideas of the story. King Candy is the perfect villain for a story like this, which is why I consider him good enough to be on this list, even if as a villain himself, he might not be the most memorable among the Disney canon.

9. Gaston Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Perhaps the Disney villain we’re most likely to meet in real life, Gaston is the perfect example of toxic masculinity on full display. He’s a great anthithesis to the Beast, though I never saw him all that handsome, which sort of detracts just a little bit from the story. But in a story about how looks don’t matter, but actions do, he’s a great foil to the love interest. He’s a selfish hateful man who is handed everything he wants, and when he doesn’t get his way, he strongarms people until they meet his demands. Yet, despite his personality, he retains a legion of followers who are more-so admirers than actual friends. He never once considers anyone to be his equal or of sufficient worth unless it was helpful in his own endeavors. And anyone who has ever had a friend who basically used them and then ditched them at the soonest convenience can probably recognize that kind of so-called “friend” in Gaston. He’s a great villain to dissect as an analysis of our current culture, but I don’t want to write a five page essay on Gaston for a top 10 list.

8. Yzma Emperor’s New Groove (2000)

Inarguably Disney’s best comedic villain (not counting her henchman Kronk), Yzma is a brilliantly funny character whose exaggurated appearance and over-the-top personality blend well with the fast-paced slapstick comedy that fills the movie. Yet, despite being a funny villainess, she avoids a major pitfall of many comedic villains by also being legitimately threatening and dangerous to our heroes. That, combined with the excellent writing in the movie makes Yzma so memorable and likable.

7. Mother Gothel Tangled (2010)

Although her actual villainous actions in the movie are surprsingly few and far between, I genuinely love Mother Gothel as a villainess. Her motivations are well-established, and she’s the sole reason the story has any plot at all. Comparisons have been made to the living conditions of both Quasimodo and Rapunzel, and I would genuinely agree that Mother Gothel is akin to a diet version of Frollo without all the genocide and religious superiority. She has to be more discreet and pretend to be kind in order to keep her little flower content to remain obedient locked away from the outside world. It makes total sense the way she treats Rapunzel, and her entire character, personality, and role all fit together to enhance the narrative of the story.

6. Long John Silver Treasure Planet (2002)

Arguably one of the most human villains from Disney, Silver is a beautiful complexity as he juggles the duality of being a father-figure to the impressionable young Jim, while also betraying Jim’s trust. Since Jim’s father left when he was a child, Jim closes himself off from people and seems adrift in the world. Silver, who has no need to trick the boy for his mutiny to succeed, still takes the time to take Jim under his wing, nurture the boy’s abilities, and form a bond. Heck, with how relatively apathetic Jim was, he could have manipulated Jim into hating being on the ship, and thus have him be happy when the mutiny sets him free. But instead, he chose to teach the boy and boost his confidence. In the end, Silver is a compelling Anti-Villain where it’s hard to really define him as a good or wicked person. That is honestly more interesting than just being a straight deceitful villain.

5. Bill Sykes Oliver & Company (1988)

Perhaps the most surprising choice on my list, Sykes was a villain from Oliver & Company, a retelling of Oliver Twist with stray dogs and a kitten. However, despite Disney’s family friendly brand, Sykes is a surprisingly menacing character. A loan shark and a cut-throat business man, he spends most of the movie threatening to kill Fagin which is far darker than Disney tends to get. While many Disney villains want to kill people, those desires were driven by personal grievances with that person or people. With Sykes, it’s cold, ruthless business. He doesn’t care about Fagin’s life. All he cares about is getting his money, and Fagin’s life just happens to be the collateral. It’s the purest form of cold-blooded murder, and that’s not a common thing among Disney villains.

4. Ursula The Little Mermaid (1989)

There’s a good reason Ursula is one of the flagship villains of this franchise. She has a strong personality, is a great antagonist, and directly plays off the protagonist’s weaknesses to win. Second only to Scar, and possibly Jafar, Ursula is the classic hand-drawn animated Disney villain to get closest to winning. The fact that she’s based on a drag queen is kind of perfect, since the fairytale was written by Hans Christian Andersen to express his love for Edvard Collin discreetly. He intended to give it to Edvard as a wedding gift, but Edvard and his wife purposefully “forgot” to tell him when the wedding was out of fear that he’d make a scene or announce his love for Edvard in front of everyone. Thus, the mermaid’s taboo love of someone she shouldn’t who comes from an entirely different way of living is a direct parallel to Hans’ feelings for the young Gentleman, and the mermaid being unable to speak and suffering greatly to be near her love is a clear metaphor for Hans’ own feelings of torture. So the inclusion of a drag queen in a movie adaptation of a covert metaphorical gay romantic tragedy is just deliciously fitting.

3. The Horned King The Black Cauldron (1984)

Sykes got a place on this list for being genuinely intimidating, but this villain is living nightmare fuel. One of the best things a genuinely threatening villain can do is successfully scare you, and this villain scared the living daylights out of me as a child. In fact, he was the only Disney villain to truly and completely scare me as a child. The rest of the villains were pretty much just bad characters, but the Horned King was far more terrifying than anything else I’d seen as a kid. Though his movie bombed and the story itself was a bit lacking, the Horned King was a genuinely horrifying presence, and to this day, I can’t think Disney Villains without this guy clawing his way into my mind. Maybe as a villain himself, he’s a bit flat, but he’s a horrific undead murderous monster trying to snuff out all life. He doesn’t need to be that complex for what he is, and that works with the type of villain that he was created to be.

2. Claude Frollo The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (1996)

If Sykes made it to number 5 for the cold-blooded attempt at murder on one person, Frollo strolls into 2nd place for his cold-blooded successful mass racial/ethnic genocide of multiple people over a long reign of tyranny. Although we don’t see his treats on-screen, he very verbally implies that he has been executing people one by one for at least twenty years as he crushes ants. We even see him barricade a family with children inside of their house and then proceed to burn it down. This man is not messing around, and I love it. When it coems to dark, twisted, and messed up villains, Frollo takes the cake. He is hands down one of the greatest and most horrible villains out there. And the fact that he does this all in the name of God is a hauntingly dark reminder of the true cruelty of the medieval Christian church. Frollo was written in the original book to be a deliberate critique of the Catholic church, and I for one am grateful that Disney decided to be faithful to Frollo’s horrible nature when adapting to film.

1. Maleficent Sleeping Beauty (1959)

Finally, we reach the leader of the Disney Villains. How could I not put her at the top of this list? She literally fights with all the powers of Hell. But what I like most about her is what you can piece together from the narrative. Out of all the fairies, only Fauna thinks that Maleficent could be reasoned with, and she feels sad at the idea that Maleficent may not even grasp the concept of happiness, or what it feels like to be loved. This opens Maleficent up to being a product of abuse, abandonment, and bitterness. Her hatred for the world and her actions of spite and envy come into a new light with the idea that it’s kindled from neglect and exclusion from others. It offers the question of what would happen if someone did try to just talk to her, and offers a possibly sympathetic reading of her character. But, the true crux of what Maleficent stands for is that she’s evil, and she takes great pleasure in her evil ways. She cursed a baby because she wasn’t invited to a party. When it comes to pure, unfiltered evil, Maleficent has that in spades. So, Maleficent is a perfect character no matter which type you prefer as a villain: the tormented outcast lashing out, or the heartless monster lighting the world on fire for fun. No matter what kind of villain you prefer, there’s a way of reading her narrative to satisfy you.

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