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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark Steve, heavy misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, smut, daddy!kink, swearing, 18+, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You walk into the lecture hall and Steve doesn’t know how to act.

𝐀/𝐍: Well, it’s finally here! This is a prequel of my fic Preying on You Tonight, completely in the point of view of everyone’s favourite toxic king, Steve! This is around 11k words. Please enjoy!

The first time Steve sees you, it’s like he suddenly can’t breathe. And the funniest thing is, he doesn’t even see you at first – he senses you, as ridiculous as that sounds. He’s just sitting there in the middle of the lecture hall, prodding the back of Bucky’s head as his friend lays slumped over on his desk, looking comically hungover – dark eyebags, rumpled clothes, red eyes – the works.

And then Steve feels this strange sensation, this prickling feeling at the back of his neck that makes his heart beat faster too. Almost like he’s nervous or anxious – which is stupid because Steve is never nervous or anxious. Even during the biggest football games of the season, with hordes of people in the crowd and even NFL recruiters watching, Steve still doesn’t break a sweat.

So, why does it suddenly feel like all the air’s been forced out of his lungs?

And then it hits him. It’s only the tiniest hint of the most incredible scent that he’s ever smelled, but it hits him like a fucking freight train. He remembers being really young, and his mother would grow magnolias in her garden. He remembers being almost obsessed with the smell, and inexplicably being drawn to the garden countless times before temptation finally gave in and he plucked a handful of the delicate flower, smelling it greedily.

His mother had just laughed – she never got angry at him. And Steve still remembers how he’d clutched the flowers tightly in his little fist all throughout lunch; because now that he had them, he could never let them go. And they smelled so intoxicatingly good – creamy and sweet, like vanilla with swirls of lemon. They smelled like spring, and Steve always liked spring. He’d kept the flowers by his bedside table (in his drawer, so his dad wouldn’t see).

But soon enough, the flowers had wilted – and that had made Steve mad. “What’s it gonna take to keep them alive?!” He’d demanded his mother, probably only about five years old yet angry at the world and angry at his flowers for dying on him. And his mother had patted his head, and soothed him with kisses.

“Love, Stevie. It takes love to keep them alive. Love, and patience and nurturing.”

And Steve remembers looking at his mother, then looking down at his poor, dead magnolias… A beat passing before he’d promptly thrown them to the ground and stomped all over them. If they were weak enough to just die like that, then he had no use for them. No matter how good they smelled.

But now, in the lecture hall on the first day of his senior year of college, Steve smells those magnolias again. Creamy and seductive yet reminding him of innocence, and youth, and memories of spring and new life. Just the right level of sweet, tickling his nostrils pleasantly, before he takes the deepest whiff of his life, like he just can’t get enough of the addicting smell.

And then he sees you.

Half-hidden by the most outrageously large hoodie he’s ever seen, with your books clutched to your chest and the shyest little smile on your face, you tentatively enter the lecture hall and Steve feels like his heart has stopped.

But… why?

He’s not blind – he can see you’re pretty. Very pretty. Softly pretty, is how Steve would describe it if he had to. All shy and hesitant as you make your way into the gigantic lecture hall, like a little butterfly in a jungle. He sees how you smile around, but you don’t seem to know anyone because you take a seat in the front row all by yourself, looking all intimidated and scared and excited and nervous, all rolled into one. And it creates the most attractive combination and he can’t stop staring at you.

You’re an omega, you have to be, judging by your demeanour and your scent – although the intoxicating smell seems to be fading away slowly as the minutes go by. And Steve wonders what exactly you’re doing here. There are barely any girls in this class – and absolutely no omegas. In Steve’s opinion, a World Politics class is no place for an omega to be hanging around – especially one as weak and delicate-looking as you. Maybe you’re lost, because you don’t look like you belong here at all, not in this lecture, and not in this university either – or any other university for that matter.

Steve firmly believes that omegas like you should be at home – cooking or cleaning or waiting patiently on all fours to be fucked by alphas like himself. And that thought – as out of the blue as it was – immediately has his cock thickening in his slacks.

But you stick out like a sore thumb, with your patchy little book bag that looks like it’s been DIY-ed out of a pair of old jeans, and your little sneakers that are still scuffed even though he can tell you’ve tried to scrub them clean and polish them and make them look new. You’re not from here, you’re not like the people he’s grown up with. He’s never seen you before – who the hell are you?

And why do you smell so good?

“Well, well, well – fresh meat.” Bucky is suddenly no longer hungover, eyes alert as he follows Steve’s gaze and locks in on you.

Tiny, little you in the front row of the lecture hall, unpacking all your textbooks and already starting with your notes despite the fact that the lecture hasn’t even begun yet. What could you possibly be writing down? The damn date?

And Steve feels an inexplicable wave of irritation because it’s not just Bucky who’s staring at you. He can see Thor, Andy, Ransom and Curtis, amongst others, lean forward with sick interest gleaming in their eyes at the sight of a little omega like you in their midst.

“She’s gorgeous.” Bucky whistles lowly, nudging Sam, who is also staring at you appreciatively. And it makes Steve want to gouge both their fucking eyes out. And he’s trying to keep his cool but it’s hard to do that when his breath seems to hitch every time he looks at you, and it’s confusing the fuck out of him because you’re just some random omega. And never before has an omega got a reaction like this out of him before.

“She’s probably lost.” Sam snorts, “I wonder if she’s an omega.”

Steve blinks, “She is. Can’t you smell her?”

The two alphas shake their heads before Bucky leans forward on the table to get a better look at you, “She’s probably on suppressants, but she looks like an omega. All shy and weak and shit.” He licks his lips, “That’s really fucking hot, if you ask me.”

Nobody fucking asked you! Steve wants to sneer but he manages to control himself.

“I call dibs.” Bucky announces, sitting up straight and baring his teeth like some sort of comical predator, and never in his life has Steve felt more irritation than how he does right now. Actually, irritation is an understatement – if Bucky wasn’t his best friend since childhood, he’d definitely have punched him in the face or at least verbally insulted him enough to knock him down a few pegs.

Suddenly, Steve’s happy that you’re wearing that ridiculously large hoodie because at least your body’s shielded from all the less-than-innocent gazes that seem to be drinking you in from all angles. And how fucking dare they look at you? When Steve saw you first? Smelled you first??

She’s way below my league, Steve has to remind himself. He’s Steve Rogers, star alpha quarterback and captain of the football team. From one of the most distinguished families in New York, with a future in both the NFL and politics, both with his own talent and his father’s connections.

And then there’s you. With your clothes that clearly look like they’re hand-me-downs, and your scuffed trainers and the fact that you’re probably a nobody scholarship student fresh out of some trashy, no-good neighbourhood. Nope, Steve knows he’s leagues above you, and he knows that the lucky omega he ends up with will be from an esteemed and traditional family. And that’s definitely not you.

So then why does his heart skip a fucking beat when he sees you smile softly at the professor who has just entered the room? And why does he want to rip the professor’s heart out and feed it to him for daring to smile back at you? Dumb fucking asshole professor… Steve could have him fired in a heartbeat. How dare he look at you, how dare Bucky look at you, how dare anyone look at you–

“She’s fucking the professor.”

“Huh?” Bucky stops dead in the middle of explaining his elaborate plan to seduce the class’s newest omega. “What did you say?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair and shoots his friend a smug smile, “I recognise her now. I saw her earlier today when I went to the professor’s office. He had her bent over his desk – and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.” The lies roll off his tongue smooth as butter, and he feels not a pang of remorse as he watches the dreamy look on Bucky’s face morph into one of disgust.

“Yeah, she’s just a trashy bimbo omega from some small hick town,” Steve continues, relishing the gullible looks of immediate disdain on both Bucky and Sam’s faces. And he knows word will spread fast – it always does around here. “And I’m pretty sure I heard a rumour about a girl sleeping with the dean to gain admission – that was definitely about her too.”

Sam scoffs, “So she’s probably a stupid no-brain slut. As if this place wasn’t going downhill already, now they’re taking in hick-town omegas too.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Bucky, who is still staring longingly at you.

“Hey, Buck. Speaking of slutty omegas – Natasha was asking about you the other day.”

The brunette tears his gaze away from you, “She was?”

Lying comes quite easily to Steve. “Yeah, Sharon mentioned it. Maybe you should give her a call, I know Nat’s an easy slut but at least she doesn’t fuck professors and deans to get herself through college, right?”

Manipulating his friends is almost as easy as lying, and Steve smirks as Bucky finally nods and gets his phone out. And Steve leans back, letting out a sigh of relief because he knows word travels fast, and soon none of these half-wit alphas would be giving you a second glance. And maybe a small part of him knows that spreading this rumour is unfair on you, but in a way, he’s doing you a favour. He’s just protecting you, isn’t he? From all the unwanted attention?

***

Bucky: Heads up, your girlfriend is about to walk in through the front door.

Steve stares at the text for a few seconds, mild irritation brewing inside him. But he feels no real sense of panic or urgency as he glances down at the girl on her knees in front of him – Priya or Ria or something, he can’t remember. Not that it matters anyways. He tugs on her hair, smirking as she protests with her mouth full of his cock.

“Hurry up. My girlfriend’s on her way over.” He informs Priya/Ria, who starts sputtering and trying to push herself off him but Steve keeps her head in place, lazily thrusting in and out of her mouth as he quickly texts Bucky back.

Steve: Stall her for a few minutes.

Bucky replies with a thumbs up and Steve tosses his phone aside, trying to focus on what’s right in front of him. And in this case, it’s a scantily clad girl whose head is currently bobbing up and down on his dick. Steve sighs, clutching her hair harder and increasing the pace of his thrusts, wanting to cum quickly and get rid of her straight after.

He’d already fucked her half an hour ago before taking a smoke break during which she’d unfortunately stuck around. And there’s a part of Steve that doesn’t even care, that wants Sharon to walk in on him getting blown by some random bitch. And it isn’t the first time he’s cheated on her either. The way Steve sees it, why stick to one girl when you could have every single one? And he’s confident that there isn’t a single girl at this university who wouldn’t spread her legs for him.

And then his thoughts fall on you. Fragile, innocent little omega who is now forever labelled as the campus slut. But would you spread your legs for him? Steve bets you’re inexperienced, judging by how shy and studious you look, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you to sleep with him. Fuck, he can’t help but imagine you on your knees in front of him, eyes wide as saucers and tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucks your face. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, images of you pouting and crying as he shoves his big dick down your throat flashing before his eyes. And God, he knows he can do better than you, better than some lowlife scholarship omega with scuffed trainers and a dumbly peculiar taste in oversized hoodies. Yet he can’t understand why just the singular thought of you blowing him had him cumming faster than Sharon or any of the other girls ever could.

He doesn’t really have time to mull over any of this, however, shoving Priya/Ria off his dick and tossing her clothes at her while she sputters on the floor.

“Get dressed, Sharon’s downstairs.” Steve tucks his dick back into his sweats before grabbing his phone and settling down on his bed.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, why didn’t you tell me she was coming over today? You know she’s head cheerleader this year? If she sees me here, she’ll kick me off the squad!” Priya/Ria laments but Steve is already bored, finding a random Tetris game on his phone more interesting than whatever this bitch is spewing as he lets out a yawn.

Priya/Ria complains and panics for the next three minutes, and Steve doesn’t spare her a second glance as she grumbles her way out the window. Annoying slut. Speaking of which, Sharon bursts into his room not three seconds after Priya/Ria leaves.

“Baby!” Sharon squeals, launching herself at him at top speed, and Steve holds onto her waist gingerly, letting her cover his face in kisses. “I missed you so much!”

She’d been skiing in Vermont with her family for the past two weeks, and it had been a damn good two weeks for Steve. Quiet and peaceful without his girlfriend’s dumb chatter acting as an incessant background noise to his thoughts. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded if she’d extended her trip and stayed away for another two weeks, because hooking up with other girls sure was a lot easier when she was gone.

“I thought about you every night, babe. I really wish you’d come with me!” She gushes, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders as she straddles his hips. God. Now he has to make conversation with her and pretend he’s interested in her dumb bullshit family life. How has he been keeping up this act for two years now? I mean sure, Sharon’s a good fuck but she’s not that good.

“I told you, it’s football season.” He yawns, hoping she’ll get the hint and fuck off. Or she could stay, he didn’t really care as long as she kept quiet. But Sharon does the complete opposite, instead launching into a whole account about how he should have been there and how good the snow was and how many new outfits she bought and how many pictures she took and blah blah blah. Honestly, all her mindless chatter does is consolidate the fact that he needs to break up with her soon.

“And I would’ve come up to you sooner but Bucky kept talking to me.” Sharon wrinkles her nose, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest before laying her head down on it and snuggling up into him. “I think he has a crush on me.”

Steve snorts at that, “Bucky does not have a crush on you.”

She whips her head up, “What makes you so sure?”

Because me and Bucky have the exact same taste in girls and it’s not you, Steve wants to say but he manages to refrain. “He likes quiet girls,” Steve finds himself saying instead except he’s talking more about himself now, “Shy girls who know their place.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “All you alphas are stuck in the past, aren’t you?” She sighs before bumping her nose against his, “It’s a good thing I lucked out with you, babe. Can you imagine where we’d be if you hadn’t asked me out sophomore year?”

I’d probably be free, Steve thinks to himself. In many ways, he’d been a different person two years ago when he’d asked Sharon out for the first time. He’d always been traditional, wanting to settle down with the right omega after he graduated, definitely have a few children. And even if he had thought Sharon would be his long-term girlfriend-turned wife by the end of college – he certainly didn’t think that anymore.

Nope, Sharon wouldn’t be the one he’d be marrying, she was useful for a good fuck now and again but nothing more than that, not wife material. She definitely wouldn’t be the omega who would eventually carry his children and his legacy.

And then for some unexplained reason, Steve’s mind shifts to you. How shy you were in class, how you kept to yourself with your eyes downcast. He may have falsely labelled you as the campus slut but he was sure you were a virgin, or extremely inexperienced at the very least. And then an image flashes through his mind: you, all knocked up and round with his baby. In a pretty dress of his choosing, cooking him dinner with an obedient smile on your face. Fuck. He feels his cock harden almost immediately.

“Ooh, you missed me, didn’t you?” Sharon sits back up and grinds down on his crotch with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t believe you went without sex for two whole weeks. It must’ve been torture for you.”

“You can’t even imagine.” Steve says distractedly. Sharon’s pulling his sweats down and undressing herself but he’s still got his mind on you. God, you’d look so sexy if he got you pregnant. He wouldn’t allow you to wear your stupid hoodies anymore. No, it would be all skirts and dresses – how an omega is supposed to dress. And then he’d bend you over and fuck you real good, like you’ve never been fucked before. Or maybe he’d let you ride him, all pregnant and weepy and shy on top of him, your eyes shining like you worship him…

He's painfully hard now, and Sharon’s jerking him off while he pretends it’s you. You, all innocent and unsure of what you’re doing. Looking up at him and begging him to tell you how to do it, how to please your alpha. You’re a stupid, no-good scholarship omega who is clearly below his league, but in this moment all Steve can think about it how goddamn fucking sexy you’d look holding his cock, or sucking it – or sitting on it.

“Mm, keep going, baby.” Steve murmurs, pretending like you’re in front of him right now instead of his insufferable girlfriend. “Make daddy feel good.”

He’s so deep into his daydream that he doesn’t even notice that Sharon is fully undressed until he feels her line the tip of his dick against her leaking hole. He manages to swat her off just in time, reaching out to rummage through his nightstand drawer and tossing a condom at her.

Sharon’s face falls before she scoffs, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t use protection. You never used to.”

“Just put it on.” Steve isn’t in the mood for her bullshit. If he fucked her raw, then she’d most likely get pregnant. Then he’d have to marry her and take care of her – which wouldn’t be ideal, especially since he’s now planning on breaking up with her. But he’s happy he’s trained Sharon well enough to know when he’s not fucking around. Without another word, she unrolls the condom onto his dick before sinking down on it, moaning like a fucking porn-star as she does it.

He flips her over so she’s on her hands and knees and he doesn’t have to look at her. This way, it’s easier to imagine that it’s you. And Steve’s now accepted the fact that if he wants to get off, he’s going to have to think of you. Fuck, he bets you’d cry if he ever fucked you. Either cry or pass out from how good he’d make you feel. He bets you’d beg him to knot you, to give you his babies. And he would. Fuck.

Sharon lets out a moan and a string of curse words along with his name, and Steve has to forcibly shove her face into the pillow to zone her out. Because all he really wants to do is picture you. Fuck, he wishes he could cum inside you, hear you squeak and moan while he completely ruins you for any other man. Except there wouldn’t be any other man because you belong to Steve.

Mine, he thinks with gritted teeth, picturing your nervous little smile when you’d entered the lecture hall that morning, all mine.

***

“A little birdie told me that that little omega is only a freshman.” Bucky says, perking Steve’s interest immediately as they walk into their World Politics lecture a few days later. “Which means she’s either really fucking smart to be taking a senior class, or she fucked her way up.”

“She definitely fucked her way into the class,” Steve finds himself saying, “Omegas aren’t smart, so there’s no way she’d have gotten into the class otherwise.” He feels a wave of irritation, however. A freshman. In a senior class. And an omega, no less. There was no way, no fucking way.

And there you are again, sitting front row with all your pens lined out in front of you like some stupid, eager omega. His nose twitches, trying to sniff your addictive scent but it seems that whatever cheap suppressant you’re taking is extra strong today, because he can’t detect it at all. And this irritates him even more, because, embarrassing as it was, he’d been looking forward to spending the lecture smelling your goddamn fucking scent.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bucky pipes up when they cross by your table, and you look up immediately. And Steve can feel his heart in his fucking throat because you make direct eye contact with him and not Bucky. The brunette seems unperturbed, however, “I’m Bucky. This is Sam, and this is Steve.”

You look up and nod at each of them. “Hi, Bucky. Hi, Sam. Hello, Steve.”

For a moment, it feels like Steve’s in heaven. And it’s the fucking cheesiest thing in the world, but it’s in the way you say his name. All soft and shy and clearly self-conscious yet in an extremely cute way. Fuck, what was he, fifteen years old? He doesn’t care, though, he wants to hear you say his name again. And preferably not whilst also saying his friends’ names in the same sentence.

And it irritates him that Bucky spoke to you first. Steve had seen you first therefore it only made sense that he should’ve spoken to you first too. It also irritates him how close Bucky and Sam are standing to you, and how you’re shooting them a small smile right this instant.

Steve is silently seething, and Bucky and Sam are grinning at you like you’re some kind of spectacle. You tell them your name (and his heart skips a beat when he hears it, because it fits you perfectly and he feels like he’s known this name all his life).

And then, no one speaks for a while, and he sees you shift slightly, clearly uncomfortable as you bite your lip. For a second, he wishes he could read your mind, but it doesn’t matter because you have the world’s most emotive face. He can practically see your thoughts as they race through your head. He knows that you’re intimidated by him, by all three of them – but that’s nothing new. And then you open your mouth to speak.

“H-How are you guys finding this class so far?” You ask in a voice sweet as honey. And Steve hates how other alphas around the room have whipped their heads towards you again. He hates how Sam’s features have softened as he looks you over, and he hates how Bucky’s got that predatory look in his eye again, the same one he had last time. He knows he has to do something. Fast.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same thing.” Steve says, and you blink up at him.

“Me? I, uh, I really like it.” You say shyly, and he can tell that you have trouble maintaining eye contact with him but you try your best as you continue, “Some of the concepts are challenging, but I’m really enjoying it.”

“Oh, I bet you’re really enjoying it.” Steve grins, pointedly glancing at the professor before fixing his gaze back on you, innuendo dripping from his tone. Bucky catches on and chuckles, as does Sam.

You look confused, “Um, I don’t understand–”

Sam snorts, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Is it the class you’re enjoying, sweetheart, or what happens after it?” Bucky joins in.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And sure, there’s a voice at the back of Steve’s head telling him to quit it and back off. That sensible voice that shows its face from time to time, telling him that you don’t deserve this at all. But he chooses to ignore it, and maybe it’s because he’s been irritated ever since he found out you’re a fucking freshman omega in a senior class where you don’t belong. Or since Bucky spoke to you first before Steve could, and he could see that interest in Bucky’s eyes. Either way, he ignores the voice of rationality in his head. He’s Steve fucking Rogers, after all. He can say whatever he wants to.

“Wearing grossly oversized outfits to hide your body won’t hide the fact that you’re a slut.” Steve says it softly, but everyone hears it. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way your head whips up to look at him, the way your lower lip quivers and the way your breath hitches.

“Wh-What? I’m not a… a–”

“A slut? Come on. Everyone knows you spread your legs to get into this class. That’s probably why you sit in the front row, too. So the professor can get a good eyeful of the campus slut before you got to his office after class.” Steve smirks, although it isn’t very satisfying to see your face crumple at his words, and he feels a pang of guilt that he tries his hardest to ignore. You shake your head.

“No! I didn’t–”

“Omegas like you don’t belong in a class like this,” Sam pipes up, and you bow your head. Steve can see your hands trembling under the table as you clasp them in your lap. And God, you look so small, so weak in your big fucking hoodie that nearly swallows you whole. You look like you’re begging for an alpha like him to protect you. But what’s he supposed to protect you from – himself?

He watches you for the rest of the class. You sit there, determinedly taking notes as if three alphas didn’t just embarrass and insult you at the start of the lecture. You don’t ever raise your hand to answer any questions, but Steve can tell that you know all the answers. It’s the way you mouth them cutely, the way you nod when the correct answer is said – as if you knew it all along. It’s the way your nose scrunches in concentration as you read every word of the lecture slides before writing it all down. In a way, he admires your persistence and devotion to your goddamned notes. Omegas are known to be devoted – but to their alphas, not World fucking Politics lectures.

You still look morose and deflated by the time the lecture ends, taking ages to slowly pack your book bag. Sam and Bucky leave, but Steve hangs back. Talk to her! The voice in his head urges him. Tell her you mistook her for someone else, tell her you didn’t mean it! Ask her out! And he lets himself imagine it for a second, asking you out on a date. Picking you up and presenting you with yellow roses, taking you to a restaurant that’s way too fancy for you, and you’d probably be wearing that goddamn hoodie, too.

He almost smiles, before shaking the thought away. I’m not that pathetic, he thinks. Some random scholarship omega isn’t worth taking on a date. There’s a peculiar longing within him but he stuffs it deeper down inside himself. Girls long for him, not the other way around and it’s best if he remembers that.

That doesn’t stop him from following you out of the lecture hall, however. It’s cute, the way you lug your bookbag on your shoulder. You’ve stocked it so full of unnecessary textbooks that it’s weighing you down like a tonne of rocks. His hands itch to help you, but he has to hang back because you don’t know he’s there, and also because you’re now on the phone.

He can’t hear what you’re saying, or who you’re on the phone with. But after a few minutes, your shoulders prop up and the pep in your step returns. Whoever is on the other end of the line – probably a friend or your mom – has managed to cheer you up. He gets close enough to hear you say:

“Yes. I’m going to try harder to make friends. Don’t you worry about me!”

It’s sickening. How cute you sound. And it’s even more sickening how he finds himself following you all the way back to your dorm room, keeping his head low and a small distance between the two of you. And sure, he’s never fucking stalked a girl before and this is definitely unhinged behaviour, but it’s like he can’t help it.

And it’s kind of fun observing you. At one point, you stop in front of a rose bush to smell the delicate flowers. Steve thinks back to how he’d imagined asking you out and giving you a bouquet of yellow roses. He lets himself imagine some more: you bringing the bouquet up to your nose and inhaling gently, a pretty smile on your face as you stand up on your tiptoes to kiss him and tell him thank you.

The picture sits pretty in his mind for a good ten seconds, a smile touching his lips before he aggressively wipes it off. Stop being a sappy fucking loser, he tells himself, before refocusing on his omega. You’re making your way into your dorm building now – it’s one of the cheaper ones on campus. The dorms in there are about the size of postage stamps, and it makes him think of everything he could provide for you: money, clothes, gifts – anything you asked for.

Ask her out! The voice inside his head is beguiling. If he asked you out, he would no longer have to deal with Sharon. If he asked you out, Bucky and the rest of them would all back the fuck up. So then what was stopping him? What was stopping him from marching straight into your stupid tiny fucking dorm room and telling you that he’d pick you up tomorrow at 7 for dinner?

She’s below my fucking league, he reminds himself, although that excuse seems to be getting flimsier and flimsier. He’s distracted from his inner turmoil, however, when he sees you appear in your room through your window. You neatly place your bag on your desk before pulling your hoodie over your head. Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and he watches closely as your tank top is next, joining your hoodie on the floor.

Steve’s lost count of how many girls he’s seen naked in his lifetime, but none of them hold a candle to what he’s seeing right now. The way you slip your leggings down, stepping out of them, now just in your bra and panties. Fuck, you’re so sexy. So fucking sexy, and he can feel himself getting rock hard. And half of him wants to reprimand you, chastise you for being so fucking stupid to be changing without drawing your curtains first. He should take you over his fucking knee for that…

But the other half of him just stands there, transfixed. You wriggle into a tee, your legs still bare and your cute ass on display for a few more seconds before you put on a pair of pyjama shorts. It’s when you sit down on your desk which is facing the window, that he finally backs off. Forcibly ripping his gaze away from you and walking away, the vision of you ingrained deeply in his head.

That night, in the privacy of his shower, he cums harder than he ever has before. Just the sight of you changing replaying over and over again in his brain. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him before, and he wonders what this means. Even after he’s jacked off, he can’t seem to shake you out of his mind. It’s like his eyes are itching to just see you again, drink you in again.

Finally, from the depths of one of his drawers, Steve pulls out an old sketchbook that his mother had bought for him on one of his birthdays. She was the only one who knew that he could draw, and she kept encouraging him to do it despite the fact that Steve hadn’t touched an art supply for years now. But it’s like his fingers are itching to put the images in his head down on paper.

And once he starts drawing, it’s like he can’t stop. It comes so naturally to him, like he’s known your face for years and committed it to his memory. He draws you sitting front row during the lecture, trying his hardest to capture that look of concentration on your face, the furrow of your brow, the way you bite your lip. He even draws you in your ridiculously oversized hoodie, how it practically swallows you whole. And he finds himself smiling at how cute you look in it – despite the fact that omegas aren’t supposed to wear things like that.

One thing becomes abundantly clear to Steve that night. He wants you. He wants to own you. He doesn’t want you to belong to anybody else, not now and not ever. But aren’t you out of his league? So then what? Just fuck her once and get her out of your system, he tries to tell himself. But would that be enough? Girls have always been easy subjects for Steve, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself confused, and his thoughts seem to be at war with each other.

It's only been a week since he first laid eyes on you but it’s like he can’t get you out of his head. He wants you to be his, yet at the same time he can’t believe that he’s fallen for some random scholarship omega. Fallen? No, he hasn’t fallen for you. It’s just lust. Just lust. Just. Lust.

It has to be, right?

***

The next World Politics lecture falls on a Friday – and it’s been three whole days since Steve has last seen you. Three torturously long days filled with Sharon’s irritating squawking and incessant presence in his room. Steve finds that she no longer makes him hard, and every time he fucks her, he finds himself longing for you in her place. You wouldn’t howl so annoyingly when you came, or scratch at his back like a stupid bitch. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you scratched his back while he fucked you dumb into the mattress, your eyes glazed over and tears running down your cheeks as he knots inside you again and again.

And that’s what Steve’s daydreaming about before the start of the lecture, when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

He turns around and his heart skips a beat. You. In a huge green hoodie, almost eye level to him despite the fact that he’s sitting down and you’re standing up. Fuck, you look really cute, all shy as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. And Steve isn’t used to girls coming up to him. He knows he’s very intimidating, as are Bucky and Sam, who have now also turned to gawk at the little omega standing in front of the three of them.

Steve doesn’t know what to do, because up until a second ago he was in the middle of imagining you naked underneath him while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. And now here you are, standing before him with a Tupperware container in your hands, looking uncomfortable and shy as ever.

“Look who it is, Little Miss Campus Slut.” Sam is the first to speak.

Steve watches you blink and take a deep breath before you speak. “H-Hello, Steve. Sam. Bucky.” You nod at each of them, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the sound of you saying his name – he just wishes he wasn’t lumped in with his friends every time.

“I th-think we – uh – I think we all got off on the wrong foot last time,” Your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve finds your stutter kind of cute. “I kn-know you guys were probably joking but, I – uh…” You swallow, and Steve has to admire your guts. He can tell you’re practically shitting yourself with how nervous you look. You shake your head and smile softly, “I made these. For you. I mean, all three of you. As a kind of peace offering.”

You open the Tupperware container and hold it out towards him. Inside, there are about a dozen brownies, cut into neat little squares. The smell alone is heavenly, and he can see that some of them have pieces of caramel oozing out. From his peripheral, he can see Bucky lick his lips.

“I baked them this morning,” You say proudly, “A friend of mine told me that there’s nothing a batch of brownies can’t solve. So, these are for you, and maybe now we could be friends?”

Sweet, naïve, innocent. God, you’re everything Steve wants in a girl. And for a second, he lets his thoughts run wild again. This time, he imagines you baking brownies for him – solely him – in a big house he’s bought for the two of you. You’re heavily pregnant and wearing a cherry print apron, and you sit on his lap while you serve him the freshly baked brownies. An alpha and his little omega, knocked up and completely devoted to him. A perfect family. The perfect life.

Which is why it makes little sense when he slaps his hand upwards, knocking the container out of your hand and sending the brownies flying everywhere, landing on the floor in a sorry heap by your feet. Sam and Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve smiles coolly, although he doesn’t really feel like smiling on the inside. Why did he do that?

Because she’s a stupid scholarship omega, and I can do whatever I want, he answers his own question but even he has to admit that his reasoning is less than satisfactory.

Your eyes widen in shock before your face crumples, “Wh-Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugs, “It’s not very nice of you to try and feed us your weird, contaminated brownies. I mean, we don’t know where your hands have been, do we? Oh wait, we do.” He looks pointedly at the professor at the front of the room before looking back at you, a smug smile on his face that he tries hard not to let falter when he sees the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“I worked re-really hard on those.” You look like you’ve wilted, and there’s that one part deep inside him – maybe his soul? – telling him how fucked up he is for doing what he’s just done. But it’s just a joke, he justifies to himself.

“Don’t get all emotional just because we don’t want your STD brownies.” Steve says, trying hard to keep stone-faced as he watches you flinch and gasp at his words.

“I-I-I don’t have an STD!”

“I-I-I don’t care.” Steve mimics your stutter, making his voice all high-pitched. Sam and Bucky laugh again, along with a bunch of other people who are within earshot. And the look of hurt that crosses your face seems to ingrain itself in his brain, searing him from the inside out till he almost feels sick. Fuck. Why did he keep going?

Because she doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’s made fun of billions of others in the past, and this shouldn’t be any different, right?

With your lower lip quivering, you swallow back your tears. And he’s surprised when he sees you narrow your eyes at him, “Th-That was really mean.”

And maybe it’s because you’re glaring at him and he doesn’t like that, or maybe it’s because you look so fucking small – standing there with your chin upturned and hands shaking in anger at being wronged. But Steve feels himself getting hard – rock hard. Part of him wants to gather your quivering body in his arms and kiss you and hug you and protect you from it all. But a larger part of him feels this strong need, this hunger, to control you. You look so small, so hurt, so submissive. He can see licks of anger through the tears in your eyes, however, and he wants to snuff it out. Control you completely. Make you bend to his will and listen to his every command.

“Y-You shouldn’t have done that.” You say quietly and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done what, omega?” He chews the word around, savours it before spitting it out, and he loves how your eyes widen at being called by your designation. He’s never called anyone by their designation before, and the surge of power he feels over you when he does? Fuck, it’s irreplaceable.

“Th-That’s not my name.” You try and stand your ground but really, it’s not like you’re any match for him. “Don’t call me that – p-please.”

“Why not? That’s what you are, after all. Your name doesn’t matter to me – whatever it is.” (He knows exactly what your name is, because he’s spent the past few days thinking about how great it would sound if you put his last name next to it, but that’s beside the point).

“And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, omega.” He adds smoothly, noting how you bow your head in submission, but there are still angry tears glistening in your eyes and he can see your hands balled into fists by your sides, and you’re opening your mouth as if to argue with him. Snuff it out, he tells himself, snuff out any fight she has left in her.

“Don’t think you can talk back to an alpha. Just because you fucked your way into college doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to give you special treatment.” He says, every one of his words dripping in acid. And he wonders how far he can take it, how much further he can control you…

“Now, I want you to keep your mouth shut, walk back over to your seat and sit down and remain silent for the rest of the class.” He orders you before shooting you a smirk. “Now.”

He watches your eyes widen when you realise that it’s an alpha command, and then you’re walking away, head down and an empty Tupperware container in your hand. And the pure power trip Steve gets from it all has adrenaline and excitement pumping through his veins and straight down to his cock. Fuck. He’s never alpha-commanded an omega like this before. Sharon sometimes but it’s never been as gratifying as this.

It's in your stance, how weak and little you look as you walk dejectedly back to your seat. You’ve listened to him, and the power he gets from that is unbeatable. And addicting. He wants to feel it again. Sure, he’s always been domineering with girls but with you, it’s different. You’re different. So perfect and shy, so pretty and submissive… Fuck, he’s so hard now.

He leans back in his seat, staring at you while you get your books out with shaky hands. That’s when he notices that you’re crying, your hands keep reaching up to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie and your shoulders quiver uncontrollably. Shit. Steve had made you cry, and his heart pangs with guilt. But it’s confusing, because there’s a dark part of him that’s so turned on right now, that wants to lick your tears up then embarrass you some more. Then you’d cry some more and he’d push you down to your knees, shove his cock in your mouth and really give you something to cry about.

But he also wants to gather you in his arms, hold you in his lap and comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he doesn’t know why he’s doing all this. Well, he does know why – but sometimes he isn’t convinced by his own rationale. Control you. Comfort you. Control you. Comfort you. Control you–

“Hey, these are pretty good.” Bucky’s voice knocks Steve out of his reverie, and he looks down to see his friend scooping up pieces of brownie off the ground.

Sam groans, “Please tell me you’re not eating the floor-brownies.”

“What? They’re good!” Bucky defends himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. “Shit, you know what? I wouldn’t even mind getting an STD. I think she’s worth it. So fucking hot and she bakes too? I wonder what else she can do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, wanting nothing more than to punch Bucky in the skull for calling his omega hot. Because of course, Steve’s already consolidated in his mind that you’re his. He just has to figure out what exactly he wants from you. For now, however, he’s content with staring at you from afar, and imagining how pretty you’d look baking brownies for him and bending over while he made you cum on his knot over and over again.

***

“You know, I’d let you mark me if you wanted to.” Sharon says one day, out of nowhere. Steve’s walking her to one of her classes (or more like, she’d seen him walking with his friends and dragged him away).

Steve barks out a laugh, “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? We’re both seniors, about to graduate and we’re in a serious, committed relationship.” Sharon squeezes his hand, and Steve feels a sudden urge to throw up. What a dumb fucking idiot Sharon was, as if he’d ever mark her. He’s still trying to figure out how to break up with her – he absolutely hates talking to her and he doesn’t even consider her a good fuck anymore. She’s lucky he’s kept her around for this long, yet has the audacity to talk about marking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.” He says, hoping to drop the subject but of course, she doesn’t seem to want to let it go.

“Come on, babe. I remember back when we first started going out, you told me that you wanted to marry me and have a ton of kids! I remember thinking how cute you sounded when you said that.”

Steve doesn’t even have the energy to correct her. Sure, he’d said that he was a traditional alpha just like his father. He wanted to get married young and have kids young too. However, he’d never mentioned wanting all of this with Sharon, but of course the dumb bitch had selective hearing and liked to make stuff up, but that wasn’t Steve’s fault.

He lets her talk for the duration of their walk up to her lecture, and all he contributes is a disinterested grunt now and again. But Sharon loves the sound of her own voice, so she doesn’t seem to notice his lack of interest in conversing with her. Finally, outside her lecture hall, she stands up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. And it’s while he’s kissing his girlfriend that Steve feels a prickle in the back of his neck. Almost like he’s being watched.

He opens his eyes, looking straight ahead beyond Sharon’s shoulder. And there you are, sitting in the courtyard. You look like a fucking angel, bathing in the sunlight that peaks out at you through the branches of the tree you’re sat underneath. And you’ve got this almost curious look on your face as you watch him kiss his girlfriend. He makes eye contact with you for about five magical seconds before you realise that he’s watching you, all while his lips move against Sharon’s.

Quickly, you bury your nose in the book you’re reading, and he can see your eyes widening in alarm. Somehow, he knows your heart’s racing – because his is too. And he feels this longing for you, wishing so bad that it was you he was kissing instead of Sharon. But you’d been watching him! What did that mean? Maybe you liked him how he likes you?

I don’t like her! He tells himself stubbornly, she’s below my league… But he doesn’t know who he’s kidding with that excuse anymore.

Bidding Sharon goodbye, he can’t help but feel this gravitational pull, tugging him over to you. For a second, he imagines sitting down next to you, asking you what you’re reading and watching as you happily tell him. And he’d be interested in what you have to say, because you’re not a stupid bitch like Sharon or any of the other girls on campus. You’re special. And so beautiful.

He watches as you slowly lose yourself in whatever book you’re reading, and you’ve got a fucking juice-box next to you which you sip on every so often. God, could you be any cuter? You look so innocent, and for one dark second, he wishes he could just take you and lock you up in his house. You’d be safe over there, inside the house and away from any college like a good, traditional little omega. And he’d buy you a whole library full of books to keep you happy, and you’d cook and clean and dote on him and carry his babies, and that would make him happy.

Steve finds himself walking over, casting a shadow over your figure as he looms above you, and you look up at him fearfully. Fuck. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the way you’re looking at him right now. Like you’re wary, scared – like he’s this formidable alpha that could completely ruin you – which is all true.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.” He says softly, and you gulp.

“H-Hello, Steve.” You attempt a smile but you’re shaking like a leaf. And he’s surprised that you’re still greeting him nicely despite how horrible he was to you in the last lecture.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but it comes out sounding like a demand.

“Just reading.” You answer, and he can see that you’re trying to hide your shaking hands. The book rests open in your lap, and you look so sweet, sitting down by his feet. It makes him imagine nasty things, like wanting to pull you forward by your hair, make you mouth at his crotch in front of everyone in this courtyard, make you beg for his alpha cock before he shoves it down past your quivering lips.

Which is why it doesn’t make much sense when, in one fluid motion, he steps down hard on your juice-box, the liquid spurting out and splattering all over your top, and the open book too, immediately leaving large, blotchy stains on both.

“Oh no!” You lament, panic overtaking your features as you immediately begin to fan out the book, shaking it and trying to get the water out. But all Steve can focus on is your wet top – it’s oversized but it’s not a hoodie, at least – and the way it clings to your skin. You’re so fucking hot, and you don’t even realise it – you seem more preoccupied by the damn book.

“It was a library book!” You say quietly, tears forming in your eyes and Steve feels another pang of guilt because he’s made you cry again. “I can’t… I can’t afford…” Your voice trails off.

Steve smirks, “You can’t afford to replace the book, can you?” It consolidates every assumption he’d made about you. You come from nothing and you’re a no one, with your hand-me-down clothes and DIY bookbag. He truly could give you anything and everything you’d ever want, and he lets himself imagine it. Him buying you bags and bags of clothes, helping you put them on, dressing you up like his own little doll that smells sweet like magnolias and is devoted to him. He bets you’d be so thankful – you’re not used to any kind of riches after all – and you’d worship him in return.

And all of this gives him an idea. A way to exert even more control over you, and give you a bit in return too. Grabbing his wallet from his jacket pocket, he fishes out a hundred-dollar bill. You’re too busy trying to shake the liquid off your book that you don’t even notice it when he reaches forward and tucks the crisp note into the hemline of your top.

You gasp, “What’s… What’re you doing?”

“You know that report we have due next week, don’t you?” Steve muses, scanning your face carefully. He sees your throat bob as you swallow, hanging onto his every word as you hold the hundred-dollar bill between your fingers gingerly. “Why don’t you do mine for me, omega?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Th-That’s dishonest! And I have my own report to do–” You try to hand him the money back but he bats your hand away. And he knows he could easily use an alpha-command on you and make you exactly what he asks of you, just like how he made you walk away in the lecture last time after the brownie incident.

But he craves true control over you, and maybe he can manipulate you? Mould your pretty little mind into wanting to please him? He knows you’re biologically wired to please him; your base omega desires want nothing more than to make an alpha proud – he knows that. He could play into that, use that. Manipulate you, and find out just how far he can take this sweet control over you.

“Come on, omega, I really think you should do my report.” Steve keeps his voice even, his eyes boring into yours with intensity, and you look like you’re about to melt under his gaze. “Otherwise, you’ll disappoint me. And you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?

Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you shake your head no. And Steve can’t believe how easy this is, and he wonders whether his scent smells good to you, and whether it has any effect on you. It must do… because you look like you’re about to turn into putty in his hands.

“B-But it’s cheating.” You whisper.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re going to do my report for me, and you’re going to put all your effort into it. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing an omega like you is good for. Pleasing an alpha. You want to please me, don’t you?”

He loves how he can practically read every single thought that crosses inside that pretty little head of yours. He loves the look of conflict on your face, how you’re trying to fight against your base desires. It makes him feel powerful, strong – how someone can have that much control over another human being, it thrills him.

Finally, you nod, and whisper a delicate “okay” that goes straight to Steve’s dick. You’re so beautiful and submissive, he can’t help but reach out to tap your cheek condescendingly. What a good girl, he wants to say, but that would be overdoing it. Instead, he just smirks and leaves, loving how you sit there, stunned and with the hundred still between your thumb and forefinger.

He goes home that day and jerks off thinking about you and all the power he exerted over you today. How easy it was to make you cry, then manipulate you into doing exactly what he wanted you to. He pumps his dick to the thought of how innocent you are, how sweet and pretty and how you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a girl – he just didn’t know it until now.

He also thinks about what you’re going to do with the money he gave you. Replacing the library book wouldn’t cost that much, and he hopes you spend the rest of the hundred on clothes or jewellery for yourself. That way, it would be like he bought something for you, he bought it for you and now you’re wearing it on your skin. Something he bought. Because you belong to Steve. And then he cums hard, slapping the bathroom wall so hard that one of the tiles chips.

Then, he cleans off and gets his sketchbook out. He draws you sitting under the tree with your little juice-box. He makes sure to make the drawing as detailed as possible, down to the top you were wearing and the way you looked so engrossed in your book. At the last second, he adds one more detail. A jagged mark on the side of your neck. His mark. Then he slams his sketchbook shut and buries it under his bed.

You give Steve his finished report only two days later, at the start of the next lecture. Quietly, you scurry up to him and wordlessly hold out the typed-up paper placed neatly in a binder. He snatches it from you, making sure to remain stone-faced except you don’t even make eye-contact with him – which is mildly irritating. But he guesses you’re too scared of him, and this proves to be true because you quickly walk back to your seat as soon as he takes the report from you.

Sam whistles lowly, “Out of everyone in this class, you made the slut omega do your paper?”

“Good luck redoing the whole thing, unless you want an F.” Bucky adds.

Steve opens the report to scan through it, and the hundred-dollar bill flutters out from where it was tucked in the first page. Huh. You’d returned the money. His heart can’t help but sink, because here he was trying to help you and you’d thrown it back in his face. Curiously, he watches you in your usual seat in the front row. You’re texting someone on your phone and he feels a wave of jealousy. Was there someone else taking care of you? A boyfriend?

He pushes that thought out of his mind as soon as it enters it. No. You’re too sweet, too pure to have a boyfriend. You’re a lonely little omega, and the only person who talks to you on campus is Steve. That’s how he’s painted you in his head and that’s what you are.

But now he wants to find out more about you. And it’s easy enough, going to the admin office and flirting with one of the secretaries. Easily noting down the password to the computer that had all the freshman student details on it, and when the giggling secretary excused herself to go to the bathroom, he quickly typed in your name.

And all your information pops up on the screen in front of him. Home address (some random, desolate hick-town, just as he suspected), your phone number (he quickly saves it on his phone) as well as your mother’s contact details. No father. Interesting. It meant you probably had some sort of daddy issues that Steve could undoubtedly take advantage of in the future.

Back in his own room, Steve stares at your number on his phone. He could easily call you right this instant, or text you. He could thank you for doing his report and offer to take you out. And then he’d show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of yellow roses, take you to the most expensive restaurant in town and then he’d drive up to a great spot he knows, where the two of you could stargaze and then he’d kiss you for the first time before taking you to the backseat of his car and making love to you, all soft and sweet – because you’re soft and sweet.

Steve has to forcibly push these sappy thoughts out of his head. He’s not a lovesick fifteen-year-old kid, for fucksakes! He’s an alpha, way above the league of some small, hick-town omega who comes from a broken home. It’s just lust, he reminds himself, lust and control. That’s all you want with her, Steve. Remember that.

Weeks go by where Steve doesn’t miss a chance when it comes to bullying you. It’s just an extremely easy thing to do, despite the fact that sometimes, it feels like he’s putting his heart through a shredder when he sees you bow your head and cry. Why can’t he just leave you alone? Why is he so goddamned obsessed with you?

He stares at you a lot, too. And sometimes, he finds you staring back at him before you quickly look away. She has a crush on me, too! He thinks to himself before shaking his head and trying to focus on something else. But he can’t. You’re everywhere. Even when he hooks up with other girls now, he picks ones out who have the same features as you. Same hair colour, same skin-tone. That way, it’s easier to pretend it’s you when he’s fucking them from behind.

But it’s not you. You’d be so much better. So much sweeter, so much more subservient. And Steve wants you so bad, it’s starting to become a physical need.

He, along with Bucky and Sam, sit in the row behind you on the day everyone gets their graded reports back. He does it so he can catch another whiff of your scent which he hasn’t smelled since the first day he saw you. But to no avail – your suppressants are too fucking strong and this irritates him no end.

Bucky and Sam spend the lecture poking fun at you, juvenile jokes which Steve doesn’t even find funny despite the fact that he’s the one who started the whole ‘campus slut’ movement in the first place.

But from his position behind you, he can see you type in your passcode to unlock your phone, and subconsciously he commits it to his memory. He wonders who you text and call, what friends you have. Ever since he looked you up on the computer system, he just wants to know every single thing about you. And he knows he’s acting like a fucking creep – sometimes he has the strong urge to just grab you and smell you, smell your hair and your neck and just bury his nose into you. It’s insane. No other girl has made him feel like this, but it’s like he can’t help it.

Steve gets an A+ on his report, and when he glances at you holding your own paper, he sees you got an A+ too. Which means you submitted two top tier research papers. A smart omega, he thinks to himself. And he hates that you’re smart. Well, he admires you for it but he hates that he admires it. Because you shouldn’t be here writing reports on world politics. No, you should be inside a kitchen. Or in his bed.

He watches you smile and clasp your hands together, clearly happy with your grade. And he hangs back again, waiting for Bucky and Sam to leave at the end of the lecture before he approaches you.

“Congratulations, omega. Did you let the professor put it up your ass so he’d give you the highest grade in class?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

But this time, you don’t even protest against his lie, or even look at him. No, you keep your gaze diverted, staring intensely at the floor before you scrunch your eyes up. Shit. You’re well and truly afraid of him – he can practically see you shaking. And is it possible to feel bad yet get hard at the same time? Steve doesn’t know anymore, he’s always hard when he’s in your presence.

He watches you scurry away, looking intimidated beyond belief. And as you leave, you accidentally brush up against him. Your whole body, brushing up against his front, and Steve feels like someone’s kicked him in the fucking balls because it winds him. His heart seems to skip several beats and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Your body had only made contact with his for a few seconds at most, but he can’t believe the effect it had on him. Your soft little body, like a boost of serotonin straight to his heart. And his cock. Fuck. You practically half-run out of the room in a bid to get away from him, and you have no fucking clue that you’ve left him reeling. He’s 6’6 and weighs about 240 pounds but an unassuming little omega has almost knocked him off his feet.

And this incenses him. It embarrasses him. It confuses him.

I need to fuck her; he thinks to himself. I need to feel her again. Claim her. Make her mine.

Maybe then I’ll get her out of my system once and for all.

A/N: And there we go! i know yall may be a bit disappointed since this does not advance the plot at all and nothing really happened but!! this is just meant to be an insight into Steve’s head!! i know a lot of you want to know what he was thinking so here you go!! I do want to note that he DOES come across as a fucking psycho askfsdajkfn but he’s a dark character what can i say??? He develops a lot from here tho! ANYWAYS, please leave feedback, i’d love to know what you think! I hope you enjoyed!! bye dhfsdnk

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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helloitstsyu · 7 months

Note

hello, I have a request for a tom cruise x reader fic based on the ariana grande song ‘fantasize’. that’s all, thank you xx

fantasize | Tom Cruise 18+

a/n : goshhhh this req is stuck in my mind for so long. finally I'm able to finish writing itt... i hope it fills your expectations! love the suggestion so much xx.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x f¡reader

Warning : unprotected sex, clothed sex, dirty talks, assume age gap, smut, minor dni!

Polo match.

You always hate when you're dragged to these kinda events. But your dad always insists on bringing you here. And since you just come back from college overseas, you owe it to him for a bit of quality time.

You would much rather stay at home or go out with your friends for a spa day or a pool party. Definitely not this. You feel awkward here and you don't know everyone here except your dad. Dad said it's not just about the game but it's about the networking. And so there he is, leaving you behind as he talks to his colleagues.

The game is about to start. Your dad calls for you. As you walk towards him, you see he's standing next to a man. His hair is perfectly styled. He's wearing a navy suit with a matching navy patterned tie. His eyes covered behind a sunglasses, but you kinda feel something about him is familiar, like you've seen him somewhere or something.

"Tom, i want you to meet my daughter." Dad places his hand behind your waist. Looks at you proudly, "She just came back from Harvard– took a double degree there while running her own business... couldn't get much prouder of my little cupcake." Your dad says.

Your dad has a habit of over-introducing you in front of people. "Dad, you're doing it again," you chuckle awkwardly as you shake your head.

Turning your head, you prolong your hand first for a shake. Shooting the man your most friendliest smile. "Hi, pleasure to meet you, i'm Y/N Y/L/N,"

He takes his glasses off and then shakes your hand.

That face. That eyes. Beat drops. You could feel your heart stop at the sight.

"Hi... I'm Tom,"

Cruise. He is Tom Cruise.

That's why you knew something about him is familiar, he's the freaking Hollywood god.

This shouldn't surprise you– to meet celebrities and all. Your dad works in the business as a producer. But something is different this time. Something is different about Tom Cruise. You almost feel like the air gets hotter. Perhaps it is him being so hot, or perhaps it's the way he stares at you with an intrigue in his eyes.

"So you're the famous Y/N Y/L/N... I've heard so much about you." He says, shooting a friendly smile.

"Yeah? Not the fun part, though," you mutter quietly.

Your dad and Tom both only stay silent and look at you, processing what you've just said.That came out of nowhere. The moment you realized you've said it, you regret it.

A few seconds pass with silence, but thankfully, your dad breaks into a laughter, lightening up the intense situation. "You're funny, sweetheart," your dad says. He must've not gotten the hidden intent behind what you said.

Tom however, just chuckles a little and a ghost smile appears on his face, his eyes light up as if he's enjoying some private humor. "Well.. I'd love to know more," Tom says. His gaze is unwavering and intense.

The event host then announces that the game is about to be started. You take your seat next to your dad. Tom is sitting a couple rows down from you, that doesn't stop you from keeping your eyes glued at him all the time.

For some reason, your heart is pounding mercilessly. You curse at yourself for being so stupid, muttering things out of your mouth before you think more about it. The way Tom gazed at you makes you feel some type of way, you're mentally and physically weak.

The way Tom moves a couple rows down there, the way he runs his fingers to his hair, the way his eyes dead-locked-focused watching the game as he chews a gum. That eyes, that jawline, that hair — Everything about this man just attracts every single bit of your cell. You're actually feeling all hot and horny right now.

Your mind starts to play on its own. Imagining what those lips would taste like. Imagining to run your fingers through that brunette strands. Imagining yourself getting fucked in this VIP little box — him pinning you down, he'd make you moaning hard, he'd pound mercilessly to you as he licks your moaning mouth. Oh, you'd give anything for him.

The loud cheer of the audience as the game ends awakes you back into reality. Somehow, you miss the whole game having your own preferred one in your head.

As you're about to leave your box, Tom comes to you and your dad again. Making some casual talks about the game and how great it was. You just stand there silence, still recovering from that heavy game you played in your mind.

"Cupcake," your dad turns around and calls for you, "If it's okay... i invite Tom to our lunch, i still have some business to discuss with him. I hope you're okay with it."

Before you can answer, your dad's phone rings. "Shit... hang on, sweetheart,"

"It's all fine, dad. I'll just go wait in the car." You say. You know whenever your dad's phone rings, that'll take some time. So rather than spending here talking with Tom and risking yourself to be flustered and caught in the open. You'd rather go back to your car and chill alone.

You get in your car and quickly turn on the air conditioning to the fullest setting. You sigh heavily.

You try to shake the picture of him in your head, trying to stop this feeling. You take a long breath in and just look at yourself from the rearview mirror. For some reason, you still feel horny. As if this feeling is not gonna go away until you're fed.

Looking around there's no one here around the parking lot. So you do what you gotta do to help yourself. You move to the back seat and lay down comfortably. You shut your eyes close and hoping that Tom is here. Hoping that Tom knows what he did to you, the feeling he inflicted on you.

All of a sudden, your door just pulled open, startling you to open your eyes and sit up. To your much surprise, it's Tom. He is ducking his head in.

"Tom? Wh-what are you doing?" You cluelessly ask.

"What needs to be done," he retorts in hushed voice.

He gets in and slams back the door close. In one quick motion, he lunges at you, grabs you by your face and kisses you. His lips on yours feel so soft and so burning at the same time— addicting, that's what he tastes like. You moan into his mouth, giving him just enough the opening. His tongue expertly exploring your mouth.

You have never been kissed like this. Your tongue tentatively plays back and joins his in an erotic movement. He gently pushes you back till you're laying down flat on the back seat with him on top of you. You're helpless, you're all pinned down, and he's restraining you with his whole body. You wrap your legs around his hips, allowing him to completely have his body pressed to yours. His hand explores your body, trailing the length of your thigh to your hips. Feeling something hardering, nudging you, you couldnt help to grind your center to his cock.

He hiss against your mouth. But Tom doesn't stop you or anything, rather he moves to kiss all over your chin, moving to your neck. The moment he sucks and nibs your sensitive skin, he got your eyes rolling back. You grip onto his jacket and swallows your edging moan.

"Tom..." you mutter.

Tom asks. Kiss more of your neck.

"Yes, darling?" Tom whispers in your ear before he gently bites your earlobe. Earning your jaw falls agape. He moves again to your collar bone, kissing you in the softest-teasing way.

He breathes against your flushed chest. His breath is hot, just like the way he makes you feel right now. He lays a soft, gentle kiss all across your flushed chest. Lowering himself even more as he gradually pulls your dress down along his way till your breast finally uncovered. He softly gasps at the sight of you. He glances to your eyes, lust covers in his gaze, before he places a kiss around your nipple.

You hiss, fingers grip onto his jacket.The moment he flick his tongue then sucks your nipple, you couldn't hold in your moan even more. "Ohh!" You moan.

Tom pushes himself off your neck and looks back into your eyes. "Come on, Y/N, show me how fun you can be," he challenges.

And just like that, the switch is being made. You turn off all of the good girl sides about you and this lust overdriving you into some dangerous character that'll put you in trouble. You pull him back to your lips and kiss him passionately. Your hands quickly run his body, feeling the toned muscles underneath. 60 or something, it is a joke that he's looking this damn hot at this age. You rub him from outside his pants.

You could feel Tom smirking against your lips. "Good girl," he chuckles.

You hurriedly take off his belt. Him helping you too. You push his trousers down just enough till you can grab his hard shaft and pulls it out from the torment of its lack of space. Tom groans as you wrap your hand around him. Fuck, he's big. And so hard. You pump his cock and spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Is that what you want?" Tom asks.

Glancing back to his eyes, you nod. "I want you to fuck me,"

A content smile appears on his face. He pushes your panties to the side and just pushes himself through your folds without warning.

"Ahh!" You squal uncomfortably to the unfamiliar size of him, gripping onto his shoulder.

Tom quickly bottoms out, pushing all the way of him inside of you. He doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size. He starts to pound his hips mercilessly into you, fucking you in a relentless pace.

"Ohhh! Fuck! ToOoMMm!" You shut your eyes and titled your head back.

"Yes! Yes! That's it moan my name!" He grins loving the way your face contorts to pleasure drunk. "You wanted my cock the moment you laid your eyes on me, huh? Looking at me with all of that slutty eyes, you know what you're doing, darling," he says to your ears as his cock pounds mercilessly to your tight channel.

You couldn't reply to him even if you wanted to. You only look back to him and nod.

"Oh, T-tom!" You cry. Tears dripping down your cheek.

"Fuck, Y/N" he groans. Tom holds your face. He presses his lips to yours again, silencing you from screaming loud.

He got you a moaning mess that you don't care if someone could hear you or see this little scene in your car. You never fucked like this before. So good that you'd do anything to have him fuck you like this again and again. You'd give your pussy for him, five to nine, nine to five. Tom fucks you like the way you fantasize your filthiest fantasies.

You feel your walls clenching hard. And the white hot pleasure becomes too unbearable to hold back. A few more thrust, and you're spilling all over. You squal all over the car. Knees clamping together as all of your muscles tighten.

You never have orgasm like that. It is by far your most intense that after the pinnacle, you feel bliss. For a few seconds, the room is so quiet — so peaceful...

You open your eyes and stare at the roof of your car. All of a sudden, like a slap to your face, waking you back into reality, your door is pulled open from the outside. Quickly, you sit up and try to fix yourself, push down your dress and all but it is all helpless. You're so caught right-handed. Looking up, the person who caught you right-handed guilty is the one you hope for dear life it wont be— Tom Cruise. He's peering down, slightly bending to meet your eyes.

You feel so embarrassed that you couldn't even feel a thing or think anything.

"Your dad wanted me to tell you lunch is off... meetings." He tells.

You just sit there feeling like you're slowly crippling to die. The optimistic side of you still whispers that perhaps he didn't see nothing. You have a tinted window afterall.... do you?

Tom gaze down at you with that light up, amused emerald eyes. Then slightly the corner of his lips pulled up to a smirk, like he's been there for a while and just watched you pleasuring yourself.

"Have a great day, Y/N," he mischievously smiles and closes back your door.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #tom cruise smut #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x female reader #top gun maverick #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x reader #daddy smut #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise fluff #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt

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ramp-it-up · 1 year

Text

All These Things and More

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)

Part of the Minx Series

Word Count: 2.8 K

Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.

You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through.

Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.

Especially since he thought she looked just like you.

“Hey Goldennnn.”

He reached out for her and drew her onto his chest.

“How’s Daddy’s little girl this mornin’?’”

Ransom whispered his Boston drawl to his daughter, careful not to wake you up. It was only 5:30 AM.

“Bbbbbbbbbbbbb… DaDaDaDaDa.”

Even though she was blowing bubbles and climbing on his face, Ransom’s heart beat out of his chest at his daughter’s address.

“That’s right. Dada!”

Ransom whispered excitedly. He smiled at her and decided she needed some new diamond earrings, the ones in her ears were too small. As he lifted her, he also decided that she needed to be changed.

Ransom looked over to you to make sure you were still sleeping, then, he eased out of the bed and managed to get her down the hall to her nursery to change her diaper and sit down in the rocker after warming a bottle of breastmilk that you kept in the mini fridge in her room.

Ransom was the only one who could get her to take a bottle, otherwise, you breastfed her exclusively, with a few baby foods, even at 8 months old.

Golden got sleepy right away after taking most of the warm bottle, and Ransom cleaned her lips with the burp cloth and gazed at her sleeping face for a while, before putting her on his chest and daydreaming of your wedding the previous year.

You got the big June wedding of your dreams, despite Ransom wanting to elope. And it was outside, which really sucked because his fucking allergies made Ransom tear up just as you were walking down the aisle.

Your insipid little friends were always talking about how star studded the wedding was, but all Ransom remembered was you in your stunning dress and the adventure of making love to his wife that night.

You had him sex starved after depriving him for a month, and let’s just say that he’d had to pay off some of the hotel staff. You probably got pregnant that night, as much cum as there was everywhere.

Ransom was awakened by a flash going off because you were snapping pictures.

“Sorry Ran.”

You whispered and grinned at your man. He was such a good father. And you knew he loved you, he even told you so when he felt especially secure. Usually after you let him do everything that he (and you) wanted in bed.

Ransom rubbed his eyes and stood up to gently put Golden in her crib. He watched her for a minute and then walked over to you.

“I told you about that, Minx.”

“But you look so cute when you’re being Golden’s dad. Makes me want you more, Daddy.”

You pouted up at him and his heart melted. He loved him some you, especially since you’d become his wife and mother to his child. But he tried to look tough, which only seemed to make you light up more.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Minx.”

Ransom bent down and hauled you up over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap as you giggled your way down the hall.

“I swear, If you wake her up….”

He deposited you on the bed as you let down the straps of your nightgown.

“I appreciate you feeding her, but what am I gonna do with all this milk now? I’m so uncomfortable. Need some relief Ran, baby…”

You looked up at him with those huge doe eyes and those huge, full tits, and his dick got hard.

Ransom always loved your tits, but they were huge with weight right now and pointing right at him.

He was super excited to help out, but he rolled his eyes to feign disinterest.

“Shit. I have to do everything around here. Have to be the Nanny, have to be the breast pump.”

You started to cover up, knowing this game too well.

“Sorry, Ran.”

Ransom saw your pout, sighed and climbed into bed with you, reaching for you and pulling you near.

“Come over here, Minx.”

The look on Ransom’s face betrayed his need as he reached for you. You smiled at him, ready to enjoy a morning in his arms. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he started to relieve you with those lips of his, and his hands, oh his hands, they relieved you in other ways.

After Ransom put you to sleep and had a quick shower, Golden woke up and Ransom hurried into her room.

A father’s work was never done.

That was the week before Thanksgiving, over a month ago, and it was the last time he felt you had time for him. Your first Christmas together as a married couple, you were six months pregnant, and the Holidays were spent with Ransom cussing out his family and friends who accused you of trying to trap him with a baby.

“Fucking idiot, can you fucking count?” Was his favorite refrain.

Ransom didn’t tell them that you didn’t trap them with this baby, you’d blackmailed him into a relationship using a recording of him blackmailing you with revenge porn months before the wedding.

You two also spent the Holidays eating and lazily fucking every night, morning, and any other time you got your greedy little hands on his dick. He was in heaven, the center of your little newlywed world.

This holiday season had been both the best, and the worst, for Ransom. It was going to be Golden’s first Christmas, and, as a true Thrombey woman (you included) she was fascinated with shiny things.

His little girl had his eyes and your smile and brown skin, causing everyone to stop and stare who saw her. An added bonus was that when she was born, his parents stopped being such assholes, because Golden had everyone wrapped around her teeny tiny little finger.

This Christmas, you were a woman possessed. Well, more than usual.

The second Thanksgiving was over, because Ransom would not permit it before then, you went into full Golden’s First Christmas mode.

Friday morning, Ransom rolled over and both you and Golden were gone. The bed was empty, and cold.

Nanny number one, Lina, had Golden and was bottle feeding her in her room. Ransom was livid.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Ransom made the poor woman jump, but she managed a smile anyway.

“Oh, Mr. Hugh. Mrs. Drysdale said that you would be thrilled that someone else could feed the baby. Surprise.”

Ransom was boiling mad on the inside.

“It’s Ransom. Mr. Drysdale to you, Lina,” Ransom spat as he watched his baby girl giggle in Lina’s arms.

She pulled off the bottle to say, “Dadadadada,” as if admonishing him. He leaned over, rubbed her hair and kissed her forehead, noting her sleepy eyes.

“Make sure that you burp her before you put her down.”

Ransom put on his robe and slippers over his silk pajamas and padded downstairs, expecting to find you there. What he did find was the chef, Angie, in the kitchen and a note from you.

You had gone shopping with Linda, of all people. Ransom was left alone. So he moped around the house in between playing with Golden all day until you got home, loaded down with tons of Christmas decorations.

He was surly at the dinner table while you rattled off your holiday plans, but you didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and by the time Ransom was ready for you to make it up to him, he found you and Golden knocked out in the bed.

It was this way for a month. Shopping, deliveries and installation of lights, trees, decorations, parties and playdates, everything that you thought Golden would love. But no nookie for Daddy. And you even had the nerve to begin to wean Golden, which meant your milk supply was getting low.

Ransom was someone even the Grinch would think would need to lighten up.

And the presents.

The entire first level was filled with presents for Golden. Ransom bought out FAO Schwarz for her. And the diamond district in New York was well compensated for dealing with Ransom on his search for the most flawless matching Mommy/Daughter diamonds.

But for some inexplicable reason, he missed you.

You were with him every night, next to him in bed, but he didn’t have your attention. It was bad enough that you spent so much time on the baby, but that was only right. You were his soul mate. Even though he’d loved you madly, when you became mother to his child, it seems he loved you more.

But now, you were obsessed with being Mrs. Claus, not Mrs. Drysdale. And that pissed Ransom off. Big time.

Ransom was still a grumpy bug when the families gathered on Christmas Eve for dinner and stayed over on Christmas morning to watch Golden “open” her presents.

He wasn’t telling people to eat shit, but you knew he was unsettled. But you didn’t know that he had a plan.

On Christmas night, after Golden was in bed, Ransom switched off the Christmas carols that had been piped throughout the house.

You went up to him, full of mirth and quipped, “My house, my rules, the Christmas music stays on.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and didn’t laugh, clearly done with being in the Christmas spirit.

“What’s wrong, Ran?”

“Nothing. Just got to get away from this nonsense. I’m leaving.”

Panic filled you. You thought he finally had enough.

“But Ransom, why? Will you leave me and Golden?”

“Oh shut up Minx, I’d never leave Golden. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag.”

You were filled with relief, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t push back.

“Where are we going, Ransom? I can’t just…”

“You can, and you will. Golden had a great Christmas. She hardly knew what was going on, but she loved it. Now it’s my turn.”

You loved it when Ransom pouted and was needy, but you tried to reason with him.

“How long will we be gone Ran….?”

“Am I your husband?”

Ransom yelled at you. For the first time since Golden was born.

You were shook; Ransom was really emotional.

“Of course, but…”

“But nothing. Your mother is here, she’d be thrilled to fight Linda for the privilege to watch Golden. And you’ve almost weaned her. It’s perfect. You need to spend some time attending to your wifely duties. Which means you pay attention to me.”

Ransom wasn’t yelling anymore, but he was still adamant.

You fought the urge to laugh at Ransom because he had a point. You’d virtually ignored him. You decided to go with the flow.

“Well, what do I need to pack? Is it cold wherever we’re going?”

“I’m sure it is. Just pack enough for a day or two. We’ll go shopping when we get there, that is if you’re not too much of a cockslut and can have me not filling all your holes for a couple of hours…”

You shivered at the delicious promise. And you were ready to go right now. You reached for his pants. Ransom pushed you away.

“Save it, we’ve got to leave in an hour. Be ready.”

Ransom walked into his closet and left you reeling.

You met Ransom in the car in 56 minutes, only packing three Hermes bags to take along. You were shifting in your seat, wet already, wondering what adventures awaited you ahead.

Ransom spared you a cursory glance, but was silent most of the way.

“Stop squirming, it’s annoying,” was the only thing he said to you.

But you looked down and noticed that he was tapping his finger on his thigh. And that his pants were very tight around his crotch area. It was then that you realized that you missed him as much as he missed you.

“Sorry Ran, It’s just that I don’t have any panties on, and this sweater dress feels kinda good…”

You crossed and uncrossed your legs, capturing Ransom’s eyes which went from the supple leather of your brown boots, up the hem of your dress that matched the sweater that he had on. You could see him gulp and lick his lips. He shifted and then replied.

“I don’t give a fuck, calm your ass down and stop moving.”

“Yes, Ran.”

The look that you gave him, coupled with the faux show of submission had him almost feral. He leaned forward and banged on the partition.

“Speed it up, asshole!”

You smirked in your seat as Ransom tried to spur the driver on.

“You seem tense, Ran. Anything I can do to help.”

You put your hand on his knee.

“You should do something, since you got me all wound up. Didn’t want to jack off and spill my seed down the shower. Since we got married, you said it would only be used to fill you up.”

You rubbed his thigh.

“I’m sorry, Ransom. Can.. can you let me swallow it down my throat?”

Ransom didn’t respond, although you were squeezing his dick through his pants. You took that as a yes and got down between his legs, unzipping him and bring out his large dick.

Ransom looked down on you and placed one hand on your head and the other found your nipple through the dress. You weren’t wearing a bra either.

You spit on his dick and started pumping him, licking your lips as he stared you down.

“No underwear at all. Just live to get fucked. You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You still love to be a freak. Suck my dick, Minx. Not too sloppy now.”

Ransom leaned back and thrust his bobbing and weaving dick up at you as your pussy wept and your mouth watered.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You nodded and opened your mouth, deep throating him, red lipstick leaving marks on his throbbing member as you slowly pulled off.

“Fuck, Minx.”

You bobbed on his cock, choking and coughing and spluttering, while managing to keep everything neat and playing with his balls.

“So, so, so, good with that hot little slut mouth, Minx. Fuck! Take it all.”

You loudly gulped as he came, causing him to pulse extra spend down your throat.

“Thank you for the fluff, Daddy.”

Ransom just grunted and zipped up as the car pulled down the road to the airstrip where the Thrombey Gulfstream was parked.

You turned to him with glee, clapping your hands.

“A flight? Where are we going?”

“Paris. Now get your ass on that plane.”

“Yay! Thank you Daddy.”

You kissed his cheek and got out of the car when the driver opened the door, ready to fly, while Ransom watched you with a warm feeling and rubbing his cheek. Damn, he was whipped.

After you boarded the plan, and toasted with champagne, Ransom told you of the plan to stay in that one hotel you loved from your honeymoon. The one with the view of the Eiffel Tower and the excellent room service.

“That’s great Ran. Because you’re right, you’re not gonna want to leave this pussy alone.”

Ransom’s eyes changed as you go up to enter the private bedroom on the plane. When he joined you in the room that was filled with a king sized bed, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, leaned back, legs open.

Ransom pushed a few buttons on the keypad by the door to the bedroom cabin, and up popped a view of you sitting on the bed, displayed on the television above the door. Your eyes watched the monitor as Ransom stood before you and pushed you back down on the bed.

Ransom took your boots off, then pushed the dress up your body with his huge, warm hands, skimming your thighs up to your breasts. He pulled the garment off of you, then grabbed your hair for a searing kiss while he roughly groped and pinched your nipple.

You moaned at the delicious pain and at his passion, trying to tear his clothes off faster than he could disrobe as he went back down your body.

“Gonna make you cum until you beg me to stop, and then I’m gonna fuck this weeping cunt, filling you to the brim with my cum, Minx. Then I’m gonna take that ass. And if we have time on this seven hour flight, we’ll do it all over again.”

“Yes, Ransom.”

You pulled his hair as you watched him eat you out in high definition on the monitor, then flicked your eyes over to the camera to make sure the red light was on.

“All these things and more…”

You know what I’m gonna say…reblog? Please!

Read the next part: You Up?

#ask dj #dj answers #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x black!reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans #chris evans smut #ransom drysdale imagine #chris evans imagine #Ransom and Minx #dj’salliwant4kchristmas22

1K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Alone

Chapter 1. Part eight of the Sassy series.

Simon Riley/female reader 2.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but this fic has mature themes) PTSD, angst, brief reference to torture, relationship issues, soft dad Simon. You're empty handed and alone.

The sound of the second hand clicks repeatedly in the silence of the room, the tick- tick- tick- filling the dead air as you blink at the woman who sits in an armchair diagonally across from you, leather bound notebook spread open on her knee, fancy pen relaxed in her grip.

“And how have you been sleeping?”

“Fine.” You answer, and she gives you a raised eyebrow in response. You’re still uncomfortable in this room, this chair, this situation, but it’s begun to feel more routine now, although no less invasive. It always feels like she’s got you under a microscope, the pen digging around in your brain, rifling through the images of your nightmares and sweat soaked sheets, the terror from your dreams hard to distinguish from the reality of your memories.

“How about your son? How old is he again?” The mention of Theo distracts you and makes your heart feel warm, the image of his smiling, giggling face pulling your own lips at the corners.

“He’s a happy, perfect little boy. Just turned four.” The doctor scribbles something down, and you shift in your seat. “Starts primary school next year.”

“Is he in nursery school?” Nursery school. You always forgot they don’t call it pre-k here.

“He is, yes. Loves it. Makes friends easily.”

“Any changes to his mood or behaviors?”

“No. I mean he has his outbursts. Tantrums, but it’s all normal kid stuff.” Silence falls over the office again. The minute hand moves like molasses towards your goal, three in the afternoon, and you casually sneak a glance at your watch, hoping maybe the office clock is slow.

“We still have ten minutes, Mrs. Riley, unless you want to call it here?” Shit. You grimace apologetically, trying to shrug it off.

“Sorry, I just ah… forgot I have to pick something up down the street, before I grab Theo from school.” You lie without a batting an eye and watch as she scribbles something else into her notebook.

“Very well. We can add the extra time on next week, if you’d like?” No.

“Sure, that’d be great. Thank you.”

You stand with your hands shoved in your pockets, toeing a crack in the sidewalk while you wait for the front doors to burst open with excited faces, when kids will sprint headfirst into the arms of their caregivers, parents, nannies, or whoever.

Step on a crack.

Your phone buzzes with a text message, the second one from the restricted number to come through in the last hour. You ignore it.

Break your mother’s back.

“Mum!” Theo’s squeal breaks through the haze of the afternoon, and you look up to see him skipping down the stairs, carefully, before breaking into a run, little red backpack bouncing behind him.

“Bug!” you settle on a knee, arms open to give him a hug. His heart beats like a hummingbird in your embrace before he pulls away, babbling a mile a minute, enthusiasm spilling over about the singing rhyme they learned today.

“head, sh-woulders… knees an’ and toes!” He shrieks, stomping his feet with glee. You curl your hand around his for the walk home, and he chatters up to you, announcing the timeline of his day and casually calling out the colors and sizes of things that you pass. You press him into your hip on the far side, away from the road, casually scanning the street with every glance. Every face, every set of eyes that looks up or over at the two of you has your own narrowing, your fingers itching, your brain calculating. You tally every vehicle, count every body, all while keeping Theo’s little hand firmly in yours and nodding along to the story he’s telling you about his favorite activity from this afternoon. A block over, a man is yelling on the other side of the street into a cellphone, and a car is idling on the right. A woman hurries by the two of you with her head down, and a group of older kids from school are laughing and joking around where they’re huddled on the sidewalk ahead.

The world shudders and shakes around you, your vision vibrating around the edges for a moment before your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you release the breath you’ve been holding through your nose.

“Mum?” Theo tugs. You blink, and then smooth a palm over his head.

“Sorry baby. What do you want for dinner?”

You’re mid dinner cleanup when the doorbell rings, and you press your fingernails into your palms.

“DAD!” Theo screams, and sprints to the door in his socks, feet slipping against the polished wood floor.

“Hey, don’t run in the house!” You yell after him, but it’s no use. There’d need to be an earthquake to keep him from his dad at this point. He stands on his tip toes, trying to reach the door handle, and you lean over him to help, twisting the knob and pulling it wide.

“DADDY!” he screams, again.

“There’s my big lad.” Simon chuckles, and he bends down as he pulls the balaclava off, wrapping a giant arm around your baby’s back and pulling him up into his arms. Simon buries his face against Theo’s, eyes slamming shut as soon as he makes contact. He doesn’t move from the doorway, just stands there, holding his son as tightly as he can without hurting him. When he relaxes a bit, Theo wraps his arms around his dad’s neck, laying his head down onto his shoulder. Sweet, angel boy, you think as you watch the two of them.

“Hey, Sass.” Simon clears his throat, and you give him a nod, fingers tightly interlocked with one another.

“Hey.” You mutter. He closes the door, checking the lock while still holding Theo to his body, strong hand pressed to his back. Theo pushes against his chest, hand coming up to pat his cheek gently, face full of love and wonder as he stares up at his dad. You draw a deep breath and hold it for a long few seconds before releasing. “Theo, it’s going to be bedtime soon but there’s time for a book, if you want?”

“Daddy can read me a story?” Theo asks, eyes wide and hopeful. Simon places the boy on his feet, and you bend to brush some wispy bangs out of his face and give him a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah baby. Daddy can read to you tonight.”

“Say goodnight to mum.” Simon instructs, and Theo wraps himself around your leg while you press another kiss to his forehead, an extra for good measure.

“Night, baby. I love you.”

“Luh you.” He says, but he’s already pulling away, a hand outstretched towards where Simon stands a few feet away, studying a blank spot on the floor. Theo latches onto him, trying to drag him down the hall and up to his room, stumbling over words trying to fill his dad in on everything he’s been doing. Simon gives him soft replies, the deep gravel of his voice drifting up the stairs as they creak under his feet. You disappear back into the kitchen, lungs burning with the new breath that you’re holding, and your hands find the soapy water of the sink again, dipping beneath the surface for the sponge, scrubbing and scraping the pot that you used earlier clean, over and over until the stainless gleams and your fingers start to prune.

“I want you to talk to me.” Simon pleads, a hand on the edge of the doorframe.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Si. I’m tired.” Your voice is low, a whispered attempt to avoid waking Theo. He looks over your shoulder to where the guest bed sits, before he finds your eyes again.

“Please. Come to bed. Our bed.” You shake your head back and forth violently, and his hand reaches out for you. “Let me hold you, please Sass, I-"

“Stop it.” You hiss.

You scrub the pot a little harder, the steel wool biting into the skin of your hand.

“You know what happens next, right?” The man smiles in your face, dirty teeth and bad breath nearly making you gag. He holds your head up by your hair, your scalp screaming when he tightens his fist. The blood crusted knife in his left-hand glints underneath the single, dim light that hangs from the ceiling. You close your eyes.

Your skin is soft from the water in the sink, and the wool digs deeper, metal scraping against metal the only sound outside of your labored breathing. The pot is perfect and shiny now, restored to its former glory, but you don't stop.

“I don’t want this.” He says, following you down the hall. You laugh bitterly.

“It’s always about what you want, isn’t it.” You spit in response, and he pulls up short, steps faltering to a stop behind you. He says something softly, something under his breath that you can’t make out before you duck into Theo’s room, emptying the dirty laundry bin into your basket. A sob tries to force itself through your mouth, the pressure in your body nearly erupting when you cover your mouth with your palm and scream.

The wool grates against your fingers uncomfortably, pulling you out from your own mind. You busy yourself with mindless things, putting the plates away and loading the drying rack, folding the dish towels and wiping down the stove. All meaningless tasks serving as a distraction, anything to take your mind off the fact that Simon is upstairs right now, probably holding Theo in his arms, kissing him goodnight and telling him how much he loves him. Your chest aches, and you force the mental images to disappear.

You’re still in the kitchen when you hear him on the steps nearly an hour later, and your throat goes dry when you feel him on the edge of the room. You don’t have to turn to know he’s there, the electricity in the house shifting across the two of you, an impossible tether that crackles and sparks every time without fail.

“Went down fine.” He says from behind you.

“Thanks.” You swallow.

“You didn’t answer your phone.” Your shoulders immediately tense, muscles stringing taut as you turn to face him, before you force yourself into a relaxed position, palms pressing against where your back leans on the counter.

“I was busy.”

“You need to answer your phone.”

“I’m not a dog. I don’t come when called.” You snap. “I don’t have to do anything.” He takes a half step into the kitchen, eyes dark and pointed, burning down into you.

“Sass.” His voice is low, a warning. You know the tone; you’ve heard it dozens of times before. You scoff and twist back around, mindlessly reaching for a glass, a dishtowel, anything to distract you. “Sass.” He says again. “It’s hard to co parent if you don’t answer the phone.” You bite down into your cheek until pain blooms across your mouth. You want to scream, want to turn around and throw the glass across the room, shatter it next to his head. Instead, you take a very deep breath and count to ten.

“He misses you.” You change the subject. Your voice is hushed, like you’re telling a secret, like you’re saying something the two of you don’t already know. What you don’t say lingers in the air between the two of you, untouched.

“I know.” Is all he gives you in response, and you say nothing, the silence settling over the two of you for what must be hours. He sighs, long and loud, and then turns to leave without another word. Something simmers beneath your ribs, beneath the scar on your side, beneath your heart. A million emotions pinch across your skin, drawing goosebumps to the surface and you shove it all down, packing it away where it doesn’t exist anymore. You whirl and step out of the kitchen, putting yourself just a few steps behind where he makes his retreat, shoulder blades shifting beneath his shirt when he pulls the balaclava over his face. When his hand finds the doorknob, he half turns back to you, the thoughts flickering across his eyes unknown and alien, a concept that once felt like an impossibility.

“Goodnight, Sass.” He says lowly, and you nod.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

The gleam of his wedding ring mocks you as he shuts the door behind him, the click of a key in the lock echoing inside your empty house, where you stand in your living room, empty handed and alone.

#sassy series #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #female reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod mwii #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw22 fanfiction #peaches writes #simon riley x female reader

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topguncortez · 7 months

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the official Whumptober masterlist

warning: This challenge contains heavy material. Please Read with caution. 18+, MINORS DNI.

1 | PICK YOUR POISON - J. Seresin synopsis: You never imagined sharing your deepest darkest secrets in front of two monsters and your best friend. Loosely based on the book “Still Beating” by Jennifer Hartmann. warnings: kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, murder, character death, truth serum, drugging, forced proximity.

2 | SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE DEAD - B. Floyd synopsis: Bob has had a hard time adjusting to life after a tragic accident. Every time he closes his eyes, the nightmares come flooding back. warnings: mercy killing, graphic details of injury, physical violence, nightmares, choking, panic attack, character death, insomnia.

3 | LET YOUR SENSES GUIDE YOU - N. Trace Synopsis: Natasha thinks she has everything under control after the bird strike, but you think she's heading towards a break down. warnings: bird strike, panic attack, mentions of character death, anger, grief, mentions of injury

4 | THE SECRETS THAT YOU KEEP - J. Seresin synopsis: things hadn't been great between the two of them for some time, but she never knew there was another woman involved warnings: infidelity, cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, unhleatiy coping mechanisms, grief, heartbreak

5 | HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL - B. Floyd synopsis: Bob always dreamed that one day he'd be superman, and one day that dream came true. . . almost warnings: domestic violence, teen pregnancy, being held a gun point, gun shots, character death.

6 | OUT OF YOUR MIND - B. Bradshaw synopsis: Bradley hadn't ever dreamed of becoming a dad until one day he found out he was going to be one. . . and then he became all the kid had. warnings: child birth, mentions of cannon character death, character death, premature labor, premature newborn, talks about premature death, grief.

7 | NOT DEAD TILL YOU’RE WARM N DEAD - R. Abbott synopsis: Your and Rhett's relationship had been anything but easy between bull riding and lies. But you had hoped that you would be enough for him to come back alive. warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, death, character death, allusion of suicide.

8 | A BRAIN ON FIRE - B. Bradshaw synopsis: ever since Bradley was little he struggled to keep things in order and keep the voices in his head at bay. One day, the voices get too loud and Bradley misses the biggest day of your career. warnings: mental illness, OCD, panic attacks, mentions of self harm, cursing, mentions of sexism, tears.

9 | DEAD ON YOUR FEET - J. Seresin synopsis: you were born with the family flaw that left you missing a part and scared Warnings: heart transplant, mentions of scars, teasing, unwanted sexual contact, mentions of sexual assault.

10 | A GIFT TO REMEMBER - B. Floyd synopsis: you and bob had been trying for a long time to start a family of your own. and right when you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel, it gets snuffed out warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriages, failed IVF, mentions of female anatomy, cursing, grammar errors.

11 | FLOAT LIKE A FEATHER - J. Seresin synopsis: fear does a strange thing to the human body, and you've become victim to its paralyzing affects. warnings: sexual assault, work place violence, victim blaming, fear, cursing, grief, sexual harassment, mentions of retaliation, mentions of emergency contraceptives, mentions of self harm.

12 | LEFT A SCAR ON MY HEART - B. Bradshaw synopsis: in the wake of a tragic death, everyone deals with their grief differently. You thought you'd be able to handle it, but you weren't strong enough. warnings: suicide, mentions of self harm, details about character death, character death, unhealthy coping mechanism, grief

13 | A FORCE OF NATURE, AN ACT OF GOD - J. Seresin synopsis: you always said it would take an act of God to take Jake Seresin off this earth. . . maybe you should've kept that thought to yourself warnings: character death, grief, pregnancy, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

14 | 9-1-1, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY? - J. Seresin synopsis: the hospital used to be one of your favorite places to be at. . . that was until someone took the joy right out of helping people warnings: mass shooting, vivid description of being shot, death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of a psychotic break, mentions of being held in a psych ward.

15 | WHO’S THE NEW KID? - J. Seresin synopsis: Jake and Y/N start to look at when their relationship changed and drove them towards the arms of others warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, mentions of an unwanted pregnancy, divorce, mentions of pregnancy depression

16 | ONE HALF OF A WHOLE PERSON - J. Seresin synopsis: Jake's dream has always been to fly. But what happens when the only way to save his life, is taking away something that would ruin his career. warnings: injuries, infections, plane crash, medical jargon, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, amputations, grief

17 | INTO THE FIRE - B. Bradshaw synopsis: dragon and rooster feel like they are reliving their worst nightmare over again. but this time, things look a little bit brighter warnings: mentions of stillbirth, mentions of miscarriage, fear of hospitals, passing out, ultrasounds, pregnancy, PTSD

18 | TAKING A SICK DAY - J. Seresin synopsis: what you thought was just a stomach bug, turned into you having to make the biggest decision of your life and putting you and Jake's relationship to the test warnings: medical abortion, abortion pills, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of missed menstrual cycles, grief, mentions of teenage pregnancy, pro-life protestors, cursing, vomiting.

19 | I’LL NEVER PUSH YOU AROUND - B. Floyd synopsis: you've been hiding something from Bob for a while, and when the truth gets exposed, he reacts in a way you weren't expecting warnings: cheating, pregnancy, manipulation, anger issues, breaking glass, fighting, dark!bob

20 | THE BEAUTY FELL FOR THE BEAST - R. Wheeler synopsis: Rip has no idea what John saw in you to keep you at the ranch, but he quickly finds out that it's got nothing to do with how you cowboy warnings: domestic violence, mentions of scars and injuries, cursing, slight sexism

21 | WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU - B. Bradshaw synopsis: Dragon had always envisioned how the birth of her child would go, and it wasn't anything like how it actually went. warnings: pregnancy, child birth, c-section, medical jargon, inaccurate medical procedures, cursing, mentions of child death, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of still birth, grief

22 | PAIN MAKES YOU STRONGER - N. Trace synopsis: Natasha deals with the aftermath of the situation with Captain Underwood. She thought that the Navy would have her back, but she was met with a rude awakening. warnings: sexual assault, sexual harassment, victim blaming, retaliation, the military failing to protects its own people

23 | DON’T TRY TO BE THE HERO - J. Seresin synopsis: The rat in the Seresin mafia has been exposed and it's the last person Jake thought would ever betray him. Part of the Bad Medicine series. warnings: murder, mentions of torture, broken bones, cheating, mafia, character death, description of injuries, gun violence, abuse, illegal activities

24 | RUNNING UP THAT HILL TO MAKE A DEAL WITH GOD

25 | BAD DREAMS, BAD DREAMS, HERE TO STAY - N. Trace

26 | THE LAZARUS EFFECT

27 | NEVER LET GO - J. Seresin, B. Bradshaw, B. Floyd, M. Garcia Synopsis: an interviewer sits down with some of the famous murderesses of Miramar Corrections Facility. warnings: murder, character death, description of murder, hanging, innocence, cheating, cursing, mentions of mental illness

28 | OUT OF BREATH AND OUT OF TIME

29 | ONE TICKET TO HELL - J. Seresin

30 | YOU’RE MINE, AND ALWAYS WILL BE MINE

31 | A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

#g's whumptober

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annadoingshitpoorly · 10 months

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Friends In the Dark - Prologue

Ellie Williams x Reader x Abby Anderson - Twilight AU

Minors, Men and general fuckheads DNI please 💚

Content Warnings: Discontent about moving, reader has only ever had relationships with women, all characters that are in high school are 18, rain and storms, light stalking, being watched while asleep, dead dad is dead, your mom is doing her best

Word Count: 1.8K

You hadn’t been to Jackson in years, not since your dad had died, but your mother was dragging you back. of course she was. It wasn’t like you’d set up a life for yourself in Detroit. Your friends, your school, your ex-girlfriend (she was more of an ex-situationship, she didn’t like you as much as you liked her.) Maybe where she was involved the move was for the better. But for the rest of the stuff, you were pissed. Who moves school in their senior year? Weirdos. And army kids but that’s besides the point. It’s mainly weirdos…

You had been driving for about twenty hours (not including the night spent in that dusty motel that had definitely been aiding affairs since the eighties) when the turn off for Jackson finally popped up on a sign and almost as soon as your mom had pulled into the exit, the rain started. Big fat tears of water pelted the windscreen of the hired moving truck and the wipers could barely keep up. GREAT. Rain and cardboard boxes don’t mix too well, and if your boxes ended up getting ripped-

“So are you excited to be starting a new school?”

“I guess? I'm gonna miss everyone…”

“You know I didn’t get much of a choice in moving, besides your grandparents are here…”A hesitant pause comes from your mother, she always did this when she was nervous for your response to her upcoming suggestion or comment, “it’ll be a change but maybe a change will do you good? Us good?”

Her right hand leaves the steering wheel and comes to rest upon your knee, giving you a little squeeze of reassurance. You can still see the dent where your mom’s wedding ring once sat, moving your hand to cover her’s as it still rested on your leg and return the little squeeze. A soft smile graces your lips as you meet her gaze and see how your mother is clearly as conflicted, if not more conflicted than you were yourself. You were leaving behind something, she was returning to face everything.

The beating of the rain against the truck’s windows eventually evened out, the harsh drumming of watery bullets coming to a soft drizzle allowing you to see more than a few yards ahead of the vehicles hood, and like out of nowhere a sign came into view ‘WELCOME TO JACKSON - Population 5093’, they’ll need to change that you think to yourself. But the sign is so waterlogged and beaten down so it looks as though it hasn’t been changed in at least a decade. Taking a sharp bend in the road sends you jolting to the side, your head spins with whiplash as the seat belt digs deeply into your chest. As you come back from the shock of the slice of pain from nearly having a rib broken, a straight section of cracked asphalt spreads out ahead of you and you welcome it with open arms.

“Our new place is on the far side of town, near the river. You remember going down there when you were little, right?”

“Oh yeah! Forgot about that… Do you think Dina and Cat still live ‘round there?”

“Probably, Jackson’s always been pretty stale. Hell, I remember when those people that came out from Seattle when you were very small and it was the only thing people would talk about for about a month.” You smile to yourself as your mother loses herself to her train of thought. “The Andersons, the ones that took over old doctor Smith’s place when he died? They had a kid, I think she was about your age.”

“So you remember what she was called?”

“It was Abigail, she was my best friend, mom.”

“Oh, that's right, honey. Your dad always said I was bad with names and I'm starting to think he may have been right.”

Huh… you wonder what your childhood friends and companions were doing now, would they still be here? Maybe, if your mom was right about Jackson being as sleepy as she said they’d probably still be there, god knows it would be great not having to start completely fresh…

Trees and tired out store fronts whizz by as your mom refuses to slow for anyone or any speed limit for that matter, a steady fifty miles an hour pushes you down the Main Street quick enough that you can’t even recognise some of the landmarks before they’ve been left far behind the two of you. The streets and shops with apartments above them give way to trees, parks and large family homes with tidy lawns and nifty flagstone patios outside, the soft golden glow of fairy lights strung above the walkways in the center of town are being replaced with the light of streetlamps, their glare turning everything around them an ugly orange.

The house you pull into is plain and unassuming. Perfectly quaint. The rain is still battering the glass as the engine comes jittering to rest, a welcome break from the constant movement for both you and the machine. You sit in near silence as your mom pulls the phone from her pocket, glances up at the building then back to the illuminated screen and repeats her motions once more. She clears her throat, “Welp, this is us. Looks bigger in person.” Digging into her pocket, a jingling set of keys emerge. “Wanna run and unlock the door, we can grab the boxes when the rain stops. I just need to call the woman from the realtors to say we got here.”

Turning the key in the lock the door immediately pushes back, letting you step inside and off the wet wooden porch. Setting the backpack from your shoulders on to the ground you allow yourself to take in your surroundings. It’s definitely bigger than your apartment back in Salt Lake City, the living room has a threadbare left carpet and a couch that’s in a similar state, nothing else of note really. Making your way through the house you pass an office space and open a door to reveal a large kitchen. It’s a gaudy mess that hasn’t been updated since at least the turn of the century with a wonky dining table in one corner and yellowing cream paint plastered on the walls, the pale wood panelling and cupboards do nothing to modernize the space. Your mom will love it.

A shuffling comes up behind you and your mom lets out an impressed whistle. “Je-sus! Look at this, it’s beautiful in here! Look at those cabinets and original splash back! I can only imagine the-”

You walk off letting your mom go off on her tangent on her plans for changing (more like preserving) the ancient kitchen. A set of stairs lead off from the living room, dark wood wash and worn down carpet line the steps as you venture upstairs, opening each door as you move across the landing. A bedroom, another bedroom, a bathroom, a storage closet with a hot water tank, one last bedroom. Cute.

“Darling, would you come down here and help me with the mattresses?”

Coming back down the stairs you are met with a rather amusing sight. Your mom trying to haul a large box up the front steps and onto the porch proper, the rain dampening the boxes and causing them to slip back down to the tiled path leading away from the door.

“Just the mattresses for tonight, they left them in the garage.”

“They’re new? The mattresses?”

“Yep, hell of a lot cheaper to buy them new instead of boxing up the old ones.”

Your mom explains briefly as you push the second of the boxes from the bottom of the steps and through the door, “I’ll bring them upstairs, mom.”

She tilts her head, “and why have you decided to be so helpful all of sudden?”

Turning your head to face her, one of the boxes already in your arms. “I want the first pick of the bedrooms, that’s all!”

Pushing the door open to the second largest bedroom, you set down the smaller boxed mattress and look around at the space, the walls are plain but the paint job wasn’t too bad at all, the wooden flooring had a few stickers stuck here and there but hey you can fix that easy enough, but the features only solidify the choice in your mind. Built-in wardrobe? Great. A window seat looking out onto the street? Jackpot. And the best thing? It's all yours.

Breaking the seal on the box, you let the foam and cloth expand on the floor before going across the hall and doing the same for your mother, she appears not a minute later with a plastic cereal bowl with a faded purple butterfly on the side, the red contents swirling around the rim of the container as she hands it to you.

“I know we had dinner on the interstate but I thought you could use a snack before heading to bed, we'll be busy as heck tomorrow so I expect you to get your head down and lights out. Got it?”

You laugh at her antics and respond only with a two finger salute and a curt “Yes ma’am.”

She places a chaste kiss on your forehead and leaves you in your new room, a bowl of soup and a fuzzy blue blanket, your only visible company for the rest of the evening. Sitting on the window sill you watch as the rain dies down enough so that it’s nothing more than a mizzling drizzle, a fox runs across the deserted road the only sign of life that you see as you eat and take what can only be described as a well-deserved break from the near constant travelling of the past few days.

Setting the emptied bowl on the floor by the door, spoon clinking around inside, you make your way over onto the now spread out mattress and manage to make the rather scarce accommodations into a make-shift futon for the night. Wrapping yourself in the blanket and closing your eyes, you’re greeted by a dreamless exhaustion-induced sleep.

Your sleepless form is left spread out and content on the floor, completely none the wiser for the green eyes drinking in the sight of you from the windowsill outside.

Thanks for reading, I hope to have the first proper chapter out soon!

If you are going to follow, please remember if I check to see your age on your blog and if I can’t see an age I block you from following, so no minors. 💚

Tag List: @moonlightdivine @hi2647 @jasmine-gazaille @mortallyfurryjellyfish

chapter 1 is out and here…

#tlou #tlou x reader #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #twilight au

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter VIII: Bigger Than The Whole Sky

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: As you try everything in your power to bring Neteyam back to life, he gets everything he's ever wanted in Eywa.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 11,5k words

Warnings/notes (please proceed with caution, some of the topics might be sensitive/triggering): angst (lots and lots of angst), death, blood, violence, cursing, mildly suggestive content (18+, minors DNI), spoilers (!!) for ATWOW

A/N: i am sick and i am so so so sorry - IT HAD TO BE DONE OK?!

This was supposed to be the last chapter, but i quickly realised as i was writing it that there was no way I could reasonably end the series the way I wanted to this way - so two chapters it is. This took everything out of me honestly, but i put so much love and effort into this series, into the laws and the lore I have created, and I hope it comes across this way. I have spent an obscene amount of time trying to piece it all together, make everything consistent within the story I have already told, and I am proud of the way everything is shaping up. Now, this chapter WILL HURT and I am so sorry, but I PROMISE you all you will not be disappointed with the ending, and I will give EVERY character the ending they deserve, bc i love them all so much and they deserve to be happy.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling but i'd love to chat more about it and elaborate my thoughts and reasonings so let's chat in the replies/asks baby boys, gals and non-binary pals <3 ILY all so much xoxoxo

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

No words appear before me in the aftermath Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea

“Where are your sisters?”

Jake’s voice registered weakly in your ears, just like the muffled cries around you and Neytiri’s haunting wails. The tears that fell from your eyes were dried up and gone in the wind, like the rest of your being was. Empty. Soulless. Dead.

“YOUR SISTERS, WHERE ARE THEY?”

“I don’t know.”

Lo’ak’s voice sounded tired. So tired. You were all tired. Tired of this world, tired of the pain that never ever seemed to cease, that never ever wanted to relent. Your blurred dizzy vision moved to your hands, red and sticky, coated in Neteyam’s warm blood. You looked at Lo’ak, whose hands looked similar to yours. Fitting, you thought. His blood was on your hands. You were responsible for this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get the fuck out of the ship, like you should have done. You made him come. And because of you, your dad was dead, your mate was dead. Your dad was a trained soldier, one of the best that has ever existed. Why in Eywa’s name would you ever think he needed you? If you hadn’t been there, they would have probably escaped the ship easier, quicker, and you would be all finishing the rest of the humans instead of trying to figure out how you were ever going to survive this, how you were supposed to exist in a world Neteyam didn’t, how you were going to make quick work of your damned, void soul.

Your mind went to the book, the book that you took with you to this new life as you carried it in your own, the book whose every memorable quote reminded you of him, that felt so appropriate now, all the words were swimming scattered through every crevice of your being.

“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

“Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”

“I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!”

“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

“Nelly, I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being.”

It truly seems you couldn’t stop ruining everything you touched. It seems no matter what body your mind was in, no matter whether in the forest or at sea, no matter a child or a full grown adult, no matter broken or seemingly healed, everything you touched just turned to ashes. Everything, everyone that dared to get close to you was bound to be lost in the abyss forever.

“WHERE ARE THEY?”

“They’re on the ship. They are tied up on the ship.”

“Yeah, they’re at the moon pool. Come on, I’ll show you.”

All the voices were distant, broken, like a messed up radio, you could only pick up words, only sounds that your brain was working hard to try to piece together. You didn’t know who was speaking, your every sense focused on Neteyam, on his eyes, still open, that will haunt you forever, for the rest of your measly, torn-apart life.

You noticed Jake come to you, taking you by the shoulders and shaking you. He did the same to Neytiri.

“Kid, come on. Let’s go. We gotta go.” When he saw how unresponsive you are, that your eyes barely looked more alive than your mate’s, that all you could muster was a barely visible shake of head, he let you go.

“Listen to me, listen to me.” He could barely speak, could be barely heard over the stirring, painful cries continuously escaping Neytiri’s mouth, yet another thing you will never be able to forget as long as you live. You have never heard anything like it, never thought it was possible for such sounds to escape another being, never thought a wordless evocation could say so much, could say everything words couldn’t.

“They have our daughters. They have our daughters. I need you with me. And I need you to be strong. Right now, strong heart. Strong heart.”

Silence enveloped the space around you, just like the darkness that came with the eclipse, and you were happy, happy for your mind to be able to focus on what it needed to, what it had to.

“Let’s go get our daughters.”

“You stay with your brother.”

“No, dad, I want to go with you.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“No, dad…”

Neteyam woke up dazed, lavender haze surrounding him until his vision finally focused, and he was able to see the periwinkle glow for what it was: bioluminescent flora. Different than the one he’s been forced to get used to the past few months - better. Because this beauty all around him was in a place he knew and loved so much, that will always be his favourite place in the world. Your clearing, back in the Omatikaya forest. How was he here? He couldn’t remember what happened, couldn’t remember a single thing from before a few seconds ago, but he took a moment to revel in being back home. He has not said it to anyone, not even you, but as much as he has enjoyed the reef, enjoyed the peace that came with being far away from humans, within the Metkayina clan, Neteyam deeply missed his home. He’s wanted to speak about it to you, but couldn’t - not when he knew how much you have also been struggling with it, how much you also missed this place, not when there was nothing to be done anyway. They couldn’t come back, as much was clear, while the humans hunted them so ferociously, while the clan could suffer as a consequence.

This place was slightly different than he remembered, Neteyam mused, and he realises it is because he has very rarely seen it after eclipse. You both usually came here during the day, as dangers hid in the shadow of the night, dangers he wouldn’t be willing to risk encountering, not with you around. He slowly, deliberately, enjoying every step, every sensation, every sound, made his way to the middle of the clearing, where the river trickled serenely, and he couldn’t help kneel next to it and put one hand in the water, palm against the current. He stood like this for a while, reminiscing about all the memories you have made here and how happy he was to be able to feel this again.

“Neteyam, wait uuup!”

“You have to be faster than that if you ever want to catch me!”

“I don’t want to catch you, I just want to catch up with you!”

Neteyam laughed at the tiny 8 year old girl with bouncing hair and starry eyes, ears pushed back and tails swinging rapidly from one side to the other in happiness at seeing her running towards him, a small pout on her pink lips and an annoyed figure on her face. The little boy kneeled to the ground and opened his much bigger arms wide and she ran straight into him, almost knocking him over at the force of the impact. He wondered if it hurt her. He was always worried about her, she was so so small.

“You caught me.”

“Woah! What is this place?”

Neteyam took in your awed, amazed expression and turned around slowly and was speechless at the beauty of this place, this little corner of Pandora that seemed untouched, that seemed no one else has ever set foot in it before you two.

“It’s heaven!!”

“What’s heaven?” You spoke English most of the time, although you knew Na’vi as well, but a lot of the words you spoke were new to Neteyam - he was a fast learner, though, and he loved it when you explained anything to him. It was better than when the scientists did, except auntie Jo. He loved auntie Jo.

“It’s where good people go after they die, at least that’s what mummy said about Earth people.”

Neteyam shook his head minutely. “No, people go with Eywa after they die! Everybody knows that!”

“So, maybe Heaven is where Eywa is?”

You both thought about it a long time, focused expressions on both your faces.

“That sounds about right! But why is it here?”

You thought about that for a while too. “I think Heaven looks different for different people. But this can be our heaven! Yours and mine!”

“Just you and me?”

“Just you and me.”

Neteyam liked the idea of that, that there would be a place for only you two, for the rest of time.

Neteyam’s attention shifted back from his own little world into this one, although it barely felt like anything changed, as two little kids ran straight into the clearing, a little human girl chasing a blue boy. Why was his mind making him see the same thing twice, why was this all so real, it was like it was taken from his imagination and placed into the physical world?

“Kalin, wait uuup! I’m smaller than you and I have tiny legs! You are being mean, brother!”

Kalin? Brother?

“Tsy, you’re the one that asked me to not go easy on you.”

“Well, that’s what mother told me to say. She said it’s called feminism.”

“What’s feminism?”

“What do I know? I’m six.”

Neteyam was taken aback at the interaction, and at these kids that he has never seen before, whose names didn’t sound familiar to him at all. And the little girl… there’s no other human children on Pandora, haven’t been since… well, you. Could they be new children the humans brought with them? But the scientists always said the reason Spider wasn’t sent back was because you cannot put babies in the contraptions humans used to travel. He sat there, unmoving, just taking it all in, studying these two children carefully, with intense curiosity. His eyes widened and mouth opened before he even realised, as he observed the girl more carefully. She was human… but she had white freckles, freckles like all the Na’vi did… and she had a queue. A queue…

Her hair was dark and thick, braided and ornate, with beads and feathers, and her eyes, they were yellow, like his, but the shape, just like the shape of her nose and mouth… she looked like you. The boy was taller and blue, like he was, but his eyes and nose looked… human, nothing like a Na’vi, and Neteyam was reminded a lot of Kiri, how she looked even more human than an Avatar. As he was laughing at his little sister, Neteyam saw the boy… Kalin, was it? He didn’t have fangs, either. His hair was long and wavy, a different colour than the rest of the Na’vi had, and he was wearing it down, flowing gently and glowing in the sun.

Neteyam’s heart was about to explode out of his chest as the realisation slowly hit him, and as he shifted a little towards them, struggling to keep himself steady on the ground, the sounds his body made attracted the attention of the two little beings in front of him, who both gasped loudly and smiled widely at his presence.

“DADDY! YOU’RE HERE!”

They both ran with all their might straight into his body, which - at the contact as well as the overwhelming feelings that enveloped him whole - fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, and which Kalin and Tsyeym started attacking mercilessly with tickles and kisses.

“WE MISSED YOU, DAD!”

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

You felt like you just woke up, like your brain rewired and restarted. What the fuck were you doing? You were a medic. You were a scientist. You had a fucking medical bag full of supplies and equipment and so much shit you worked so hard to learn to use, to bring here with you. And you were just going to let your mate die? Without even trying? No. No fucking way.

You got up from the ground, like the ground burned you, and ran to Neyn, where you picked up the large bag that always resided on her, and moved it next to Neteyam’s body. You pushed away the tears forming silently at his unmoving form, trying not to dwell on it too much. He’s just sleeping. He’s just sleeping. Your mate, your best friend and the love of your life, the man you hoped would be the father of your children one day, he’s just sleeping.

You searched the bag, hurried and crazed, and found the strips of gauze you were looking for. You removed them from their sterile wrappings and screamed at Tsireya, who was looking at you panicked, not understand what was happening. You cringed a little at her face, a crying, blubbering mess, and tried to push the thoughts out of your mind. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping. You looked around for Lo’ak, or Jake, or anyone else, but they were all gone. Where was Lo’ak? Where did he go again? You needed him and he was gone. You growled loudly, but didn’t say anything else on the subject, turning your full attention to Tsireya.

“I need you to help me keep him upright for a while, I need to bandage his wounds. Can you do that?”

She was confused, the emotion very obvious on her face. “Y-yes, I can, but… but… he’s d-“

“Tsireya.” You hissed lowly, fangs barring menacingly. He was sleeping. Just sleeping. “Can you help me or not?”

She nodded furiously, and you knew she would help in any way she could. She was a good kid. She’ll make a good Tsa’hik one day.

“Alright.” You helped her bring his torso up, and you waited for her to rearrange so that she could keep his much larger body in the position you needed her to. You grabbed the large bandage and rolled it around his body, tying it as tightly as you possibly could, cursing under your breath that no one else was here, knowing that Jake could have tightened it better than you could. You needed as much pressure as possible, needed the wounds to stop bleeding. You were trying not to think about how much blood he’s already lost. All that mattered at the moment was that his heart started beating again. You were the same blood type, you could give him blood, but all the blood in the world wouldn’t do anything without a heart to pump it through his body.

Once you were happy with how wrapped his body was, you motioned for Tsireya to lay him back on the ground, which she did, slowly and carefully - which you appreciated. You straddled him, knees on either side of his abdomen and placed the heel of your hand over his chest. You placed your other hand on top of the first, and intertwined your fingers together, starting to pump his chest rhythmically, putting all your effort into it.

“Tsireya, I need you to look in the bag and find a red little case, like a basket. When you find it, bring it to me, fast.”

She took off immediately, ready and committed to do whatever it took to help. You continued the CPR, not stopping for a second, mind running a thousand miles a minute. The fight or flight finally overtook you, and you knew now you would do whatever it took to bring Neteyam back. Because you had to. Because there was no other option. Because you have both suffered enough. You deserved a soft epilogue. You were both good people, and you suffered enough.*

“Here it is!” She brought it next to you, flinging it from side to side in front of your face.

“Good. Now I need you to open it, you see that string? That’s called a zipper. Just pull on it and it should come apart in two.”

Once she did that, you saw the defibrillator come into view and you sighed a small breath of relief. You were exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead and onto Neteyam’s chest.

“I need you to put this on him. I will walk you through it, I will tell you what to do, but you have to do it, do you understand me?”

She looked uncomfortably from side to side. “B-but, I.. you should do it.”

“I can’t do it, Tsireya. Please. I know this it strange to you, and new and unnatural, and I am sorry, but I need to do this. We need to do this.” You let out a pained cry. “I need to save him. I can save him.”

Your voice rang in the forest all around him, surrounding the meadow and filling his ears, hauntingly beautiful and serene, and he was overwhelmed at the voice, that he missed so much, that he felt like he was just hearing for the first time.

Where the North wind meets the sea

There's a river full of memory

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound

For in this river, all is found

Neteyam struggled to understand what was going on, but, as he was being tackled by the children that just called him dad, the children that bore a striking resemblance to both you and him, he allowed himself to be pushed to the ground and he felt his heart swell to twice its size at the feeling of warmth that enveloped him. As he tightened his arms around the little boy and girl, he realises he knows them. He knows them, has known them every moment of their lives. He has loved them every moment of their lives.

“Parultsyìp! (Children!)”

Memories flooded his being, of your beautiful body, now a bit bigger than he remembered, caressing your pregnant belly tenderly as he placed small kisses all over it; you laughed loudly as the action made you ticklish, and brought your hand to the back of his head, patting him gently, playing with his braids. Memories of Kalin being born, a strange sight, seeing the blue baby come out of his very human mate, but the happiest day of his life. Memories of Mo’at telling you you’re pregnant again, and the shock that overtook you both, then the immense joy that followed seeing his baby girl for the first time, so tiny and absolutely perfect. The first communion with Eywa, their pocket-sized queues connecting to the Spirit Tree, the whole tribe and the scientists, all there to celebrate the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as their new happy family. Putting them to sleep every night, neither of them able to slumber without hearing your voice singing softly in their ears. The years passing, but not the passion and love you shared, still obsessed with each other, still going at it like crazed teenagers, like you did ever since you first mated. Images of Lo’ak being the best uncle, and Neteyam having panic attacks every time he would twist and throw his kids in the air like they were helicopter propellers. His mother and father both holding each one of the kids in their arms, cooing and rocking them softly, crying when Tsy wrapped her tiny hand around his mother’s pinky. Kalin’s first word, sweets, since that was what you always called him, and Tsyeym’s, fuck, curtesy of Lo’ak and Spider’s babysitting, which Neteyam prohibited afterwards, and although you tried to hide it - you found it a little funny. All of these things and more, 8 years of memories, of love and care, of adoration and awe, all overwhelming, all pulsating through Neteyam’s mind like electrical shocks, waking him like from a nightmare.

“Neteyam?”

When his amber eyes reopened, the kids were gone, much to his dismay, but he was comforted by the sight of you, his beautiful love, his beautiful light.

“Atan!”

Your human face looked scared, and confused, and sad, but Neteyam couldn’t care less, not when he felt like he hasn’t seen you in a lifetime, not when the only thing he wanted to do was kiss you, like Dean kissed Rory in that episode of Gilmore Girls you loved. He didn’t think twice about your size, about how in your human body, you were as tall as a Na’vi girl, how even in the forest, your face was unencumbered by the weight of your oxygen mask. He didn’t think of anything, because none of it matter outside of you, outside of you and him and the love you shared.

He ran to you, watching as every step made the ground glow in lustrous pastel colours and he smiled as he picked you up by your thighs and lifted you, pushing you to the tree your body was close to until your back hit it and you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your hands found his face and hair, like they always did, and your body melted into him, slowly relaxing, giving him a dazzling smile that took his breath away.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.”

The kiss was everything he needed and more, more than he could ever dream in this life and the next and everything that came after. It was hot and needy and desperate, and you were clinging to each other like you never wanted to let go, and he’d be damned if he ever would again.

Tsireya took a look at your disheveled figure, putting all your effort into your chest compressions, and she nodded, determination overtaking any other emotion on her face.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Alright. In the pouch, there is the little device with a human drawn on it. You see that blue lever, just pull on it, until the cover comes off.”

She did as she was told, and let out an excited yelp when what you told her would happen, happened.

“I did it!”

“That’s great, Tsireya. Now, inside, there are two pieces of… paper… yes, that’s right. I need you to look at the drawing on them, and remove the yellow film that is on them, and put the white strips on Neteyam’s body, exactly how it shows you in the picture. Make sure you press them down properly.”

She manoeuvred around you so she can do what you told her, and eventually, the pads were on. It was up to the little contraption to do its job now. Neteyam’s life was in its tiny, inanimate hands.

“Neteyam, stop.”

“No, Atan, I can’t stop. I need you, I need you so badly.”

Neteyam felt you push him away, the same expression as earlier marring your beautiful face. You looked…scared.

“Neteyam, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fuck… if you’re here… that means… Shit.”

Neteyam watched as you removed yourself from him, and no matter how disappointed, he helped put you back onto the ground. You put distance in between you, which Neteyam dreaded, and you were pacing around, seemingly out of your mind with worry.

“No… it can’t be.”

“What is going on, Atan? You’re scaring me.”

“Neteyam, you can’t be here. You have to go. What is the last thing you remember?”

Neteyam thought long and hard about it. Nothing… he couldn’t remember anything. He can remember moving to the Metkayina, and learning to swim. He can remember the beauty of the reef, he can remember you, hair blowing gracefully in the humid wind as you took to the new culture, he can remember a magical celebration where people danced and sang. That’s about it.

“I can’t remember much… I just woke up here, back home. I walked through the clearing and saw our kids. Our kids, Atan! They are so beautiful, they look so much like both of us. They look exactly like what I imagined them to ever since I fell in love with you! I can’t believe I’m back home, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d never be back here.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape, looking somewhere behind him, and you looked like you were trying to process everything he was telling you.

“…Kids… Our kids… you saw our kids?”

“Yes, they were right there, laughing and chasing each other, just like we used to do, in the exact place we used to. It’s everything I have ever wanted, ever since the moment I knew how deeply and irrevocably in love with you I was, all I wanted was this. That moment right there, this moment right here.”

Neteyam saw your lips quiver, trembling trying to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill out. Your brows were furrowed and you were looking at him in disbelief, like nothing about this made sense, like what he was feeling was wrong, and Neteyam couldn’t understand. He was finally home. You finally guided him home.

You closed the distance in between you and pulled him into a hug, a tight hug that he immediately reciprocated.

“I love you so much. I have missed you so much.” You were sobbing in his chest now, hot tears trickling down his torso.

“But I need you to try to remember. You have to remember.”

Neteyam’s words caught in his throat as a loud boom almost knocked him to the ground, shaking the whole clearing, and he found it hard keeping upright. His first instinct, as it always was, was to shield you, so he grabbed your body in his and pushed you to the ground, towering over you with his body.

“What is happening?”

The world was losing focus around him, the edges of the clearing blurred and disappearing slowly from view.

“Atan, what is happening?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and he saw you shaking your head almost imperceptibly, biting on the inside of your lip aggressively. He brought his hand up to your face and caressed your lips softly with his thumb, tugging a little so you stopped hurting yourself.

“What is it, Atan? What can’t you tell me? Why am I here? Why are we here?”

“I’m here for you, Neteyam. You have to remember.”

Neteyam was trying so hard, thinking so hard whilst the world was seemingly falling apart around him, around you both, and the only thing he could think of, the only think he knew, is that he didn’t want to leave you. He didn’t want to leave the meadow, or the kids. He was home, finally. He could finally live.

“I will try to remember, Atan. I am not leaving you, I am not going anywhere. I will protect you and the kids. We’re never going to be apart again.”

You seemed pained at his words, but said no more as another quake shook the ground you were laying on.

You watched as Neteyam’s body jerked violently for a second time, with no response. The deep fear and anguish, the dark thoughts were slowly creeping up on you again, as your mate wasn’t coming back to life, and it seemed again all efforts, all your hope was easily being dragged out to sea, out into the abyss, along your sanity and future.

“Please, please fuck! Please, just work. Goddamn it!”

You continued CPR in between shocks, praying, begging Eywa for a chance. Please, Great Mother, you can’t do this. I’m begging you, please. Please!

Beep. Beep. Beep.

As you felt his heart beating in his chest again and heard it on the AED, you felt as if yours started beating again too. You stopped the chest compressions and moved your head close to his face, trying to see if he was breathing. A soft, subtle puff of air was being released from his nose every couple of seconds and you saw in shock as wet drips were falling on his beautiful, ethereal face.

Acid rain leaking from your eyes, pouring like tropical storms, never-ending, all-powerful and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t make them stop. You were wailing, crying harder than you ever have before as the man you loved came back from the dead, as his heartbeat was weak, but nevertheless present on your fingertips that were pushing against his throat, as your other hand went to his cheek that you caressed, trying to figure out if this was real, if he was really back. Your wails were so loud they were hurting your ears, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t make yourself stop, all you felt was enormous, earth-shattering grief, all the sorrow you suppressed flooding all of your senses, clouding your mind, pushing anything else down, melting it into the ground. The ache was coursing through your veins, poisoning every cell in your body until the was nothing left but this - it. You should be happy, you should be relieved, but as you watched the man you have known, you have loved every single day of your unpredictable, crazy, mercurial life, you realised how close he was, how close you were to losing him forever, to losing everything that kept you sane, kept you going.

You saw it all: washing his dead body, preparing him for the funeral, removing his bracelet, the bracelet that signified your love and your bond, the family dressed in mournful garbs, having to let him go, giving his body to the ocean, having to sing his songcord one last time, never being able to see him again, only having to settle for scraps, for a memory, or for a vision at the Spirit Tree. You saw yourself, a widow forever, never being able to move on, never being able to be happy, ever again, because he was happiness, and he was everything and he was gone. You saw your future - never having children, because if they weren’t his - what was the point? You saw his family, ruptured and torn apart by the loss of their son, their sibling, their hero, their best friend. You saw Lo’ak, carrying the guilt for the rest of his life, rebelling against his father, going on a dark path it was near impossible to turn him back from. You saw Neytiri, broken after another loss, the worst loss a mother could ever feel, never fully recovering, never truly being the same again. You saw Tuk and Kiri withdraw into themselves, the light they carried with them everywhere they went snuffed out at the calamitous loss. You saw it all and it killed you, it gutted you from the inside out.

But he was here. He was still here. Everything you saw, every nightmare your mind made you watch, laughing as you suffered, revelling in it, like it always was, it was just that - a nightmare. A parallel universe you never had to live through. Because he was here. He’s just sleeping.

You knew you didn’t have time to waste. You had to go back, you had to warm his body and clean his wounds, you had to remove any scraps the bullet left behind in his organs, you had to give him blood. There was still too much to do, and he needed you. You didn’t have time to fully fall apart just yet.

“Tsireya, we need to take him back to the village, we need to go, now. Just help me put him on Neyn, please.”

“I…I’ve never been on an Ikran before.”

If you weren’t so dazed and out-of-your-mind, you would have scoffed at that.

“Oh, I think you have, too.”

You didn’t have to look at the Metkayina girl to feel the embarrassment in her cheeks and her tail swish vigorously.

“I’ll make sure your parents know this is the first time, ok? I’m a great liar. Just please get on.”

Between the two of you, you managed to place Neteyam’s still unmoving, still unconscious body on your beautiful banshee, and you all got on, trying your best to cage his body so that he wouldn’t fall.

“I’ll tell her to go slow and steady, just hold on to her kuru (queue) and you’ll be fine.”

Ok, sweet girl. We have to get back. Please go gently. Hurry.

Neyn trilled in your direction, and you can tell she was worried and stressed through the bond. You didn’t know if it was just a mirror of your own mind or if she was feeling it too. Neyn loved Neteyam. He was always nice to her, and considerate and attentive. Neyn also loved Seze, and the thought of Seze being without her chosen Na’vi, being alone, the rest of her life, hurt Neyn. It hurt you, too. It hurt you so badly, in fact, your body was convulsing slightly, pain deep within your abdomen, that almost made your ikran lose her focus, and she wobbled a little midair, which made Tsireya scream.

“It’s alright, you’re ok. We’re ok.”

You rushed to your marui as soon as Neyn landed and you saw Seze make her way to you as well. Poor girl. You and Neteyam might not have a spirit brother like Lo’ak now did, but these two, they were it for you. You and Neteyam had a bond with your ikran that transcended time, space and species, and you would never be able to replace them, as long as you lived.

The first thing you needed was blood. He needed blood. You got out an empty blood bag and the tube, as well as a needle and syringe. You’d have to work fast, and you’d have to operate on him while the blood was being withdrawn, which will hurt, but you had to take the risk, he didn’t have much time.

“Tsireya, listen to me. I need to give Neteyam blood. My blood. I need you to take that little ribbon and tighten it around my arm, below my bracelet. It needs to be so tight it hurts, do you understand? When I tell you, you need to remove it. Then, as soon as I put the needle in and the blood starts flowing, we will need to clean him and I will patch him up, ok?”

Tsireya looked lost and trembling, her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably, but she nodded meekly, looking around at all the things she did not understand or know, deep panic on her features.

“Good girl.” As soon as she did what you asked, you found a vein and watched as deep, violent red liquid flowed softly from your body to the bag. The Metkayina girl gasped, but said nothing, just looking at the blood like in a trance, removing the tourniquet when you told her.

“It’s ok. This will help him. But we need to hurry. It takes about ten minutes for it to fill, maybe a bit longer since I will be using my arm at the same time.”

You got to work immediately, cleaning and disinfecting the area where he lay, prepping all of your tools and asking Tsireya to be your scrub nurse for the day. You cleaned his body, bloodied and bruised, trying to not focus on how it was making you nauseous, making your mind sick and dizzy with worry and pain, and you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You were too emotionally involved to be the one doing this, but there was no one else. Not Norm, not Max. Not Claire, or Tim, no one else. You took the scalpel and made a cut into his skin, asking Tsireya to cauterise wherever she saw bleeds. She was naturally good at this, you noted and you smiled at this girl who has only known you and Neteyam for a few months and yet here she was, crying and shaking, doing everything in her power to save your family from harm. You knew Lo’ak was a big reason for it, but not the only reason. You really liked her.

You diligently removed all the shards and shrapnel the bullet left behind, and sutured every layer until his back was patched up. Somehow, the bullet missed his heart, and the main arteries, which you felt was Eywa’s doing. It had to be. Eywa wanted him to live, she had to. Because this wasn’t balance. Nothing about your lives has ever been balanced, and it would take a lot of good to equilibrate all the fucked up shit both you and him, your entire family has been through. So Neteyam had to live.

Once the blood bag was full, you removed the needle from your body and got up, realising quickly you shouldn’t be standing up, falling to the ground with a thud. Shit. You once again had to turn to Tsireya for help, and she managed to hang the bag somewhere above you, so that the liquid could flow freely into Neteyam’s body. You waited until you turned him chest up, and then inserted the needle, allowing the blood to move through his now beating heart. Your blood. Your blood ran through his body, through his heart. Your blood will save him, like your hands did, like your body had to. You were about to collapse after losing so much, but knowing you were the reason he was still here empowered you. It was just you and him. Just you and him, in this whole world, for the rest of time.

It was hard having to turn him upside down without disturbing him or hurting him further, but eventually you and Tsireya managed to, and you did the same procedure on his chest, until that was also completely closed and clean. Your hands were trembling, and your suture ruptured a few times in his body, and it took every ounce of self-restrain you had to not cry, not to collapse in a puddle on the floor, to not scream in agony, not ask the Universe what the hell could you have ever done to deserve going through all of this? Nobody should have to go through having to lose a dad and a mate in one day, no one should have to fight tooth and nail to keep them from crossing to the other side, to patch their brokenness, whilst yours flourished and bloomed like deadly nightshade. You had to endure more in 19 years than most people do in their lives, more grief embellished your being than there were beads adorning Na’vi bodies. You were feeling sorry for yourself, and for once in your life, you didn’t want to stop, you didn’t want to have to pull yourself back together, you didn’t want to be strong anymore. You were tired.

When you finished, you were spent, hours upon hours passing you by. You felt pain in your body everywhere, kicking at your insides like a monster waiting to crawl out of you with every push. You were cramping and the whole world turned around you, and you knew you were going to pass out from exhaustion. You went to your mat, anxiety enveloping you in knowing there was nothing else you could possibly do for Neteyam at the moment, and called for your turquoise friend.

“Tsireya, when…if… the family gets back, you tell them they need to call Norm and Max. Tell them they need to get here as soon as possible. I can’t do this by myself.” You felt the world dissolving before you as you spoke, and allowed it to fully dissipate away from view, embracing the feeling of nothingness, because nothing meant no pain, and no images of your dead mate, and your dead dad, and you were happy with that.

You woke up in a daze, faintly recognising the slur of voices blending together into one indistinctive blabber, that you tried with your whole might to decipher. You tried to open your eyes, but they were so heavy it felt like lifting weights back in the lab complex as a human. Eventually, your senses recovered and you were able to both see and hear the Sullys, as well as Norm and Max chatting to each other, huddled over Neteyam’s body.

“She’s awake!” Tuk’s voice startled you, and seeing her approaching you excitedly tugged at your heart. My Tuk-tuk…

“Oh, Great Mother, thank you! Ma ‘ite!” Neytiri crouched next to your limp body and hugged you, and you winced as every part of you she was touching hurt. You saw scratches and bruises all over your body from the battle, that you were too preoccupied to notice before.

“Sa’nok.” She sobbed in your chest, releasing all the anguish of thinking she has lost two kids in one night. “I’m ok, sa’nok. I’m here.”

“You saved him! You saved him, I thought we lost him! I thought I lost him!” Her cries were ringing painfully in your ear, the sadness in them close to tearing you apart.

“Is he…?”

Jake came over and kneeled next to you, tears in his own eyes. The whole family looked exhausted, spent, physically and mentally, and you counted them quickly, sighing deeply when you found them all to be here, in the tent.

“He’s still asleep, kid. What happened?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

You moved next to Neteyam, holding his hand, just needing to feel him, and his now much stronger pulse, and spent the next while explaining everything you have had to do and watched as their mouths got progressively more agape in shock. Then they watched yours do the same as Jake told you what happened on the ship.

“He’s dead, kid. He’s finally dead. Whatever else happens, at least Quaritch will never haunt this family ever again.”

Your eyes immediately moved to Spider, and you felt a tinge of sadness for the boy who also had to lose his father, just like you have. No matter what, no matter what atrocities this man committed, you knew better than most than the love doesn’t go away, it runs deep and the water of an underwater cavern, hidden from view and light, but there, nevertheless. You were surprised, though, when upon looking at him, you saw him shifting uncomfortably, looking everywhere but you and your family, picking at his cuticles. It was a bad habit you shared, but one that gave away nervousness, anxiety - guilt. What the hell did you do, Spider?

“How long have I been out?”

“About a day?”

You turned to Max and Norm, who were dutifully listening to everything, and you could tell how overwhelming it all was to them, how crazy and mind numbing and revolting. But it was life, your life. Your life.

“How is he?”

All of the attention shifted back onto Neteyam, who looked like he was resting. He looked… happy. Peaceful. You hoped whatever he was going through, it was better than this abusive reality, and you hope he could finally rest, until he was ready to come back to you.

“He’s in a coma, Ace.” You gasped a little, and another stabbing pain shot through you. “Look here.” He rose the portable EEG he had in his hands and scanned Neteyam’s brain from a distance.

Your breath stopped as you took in the information on the screen.

“He’s in a hypoxic-ischaemic coma.”

“W-what does that mean?”

You gulped loudly before you answered Jake.

“It means that his brain didn’t have enough oxygen after his heart stopped.” What you didn’t want to tell him is how few people actually come back from that, and come back the same way they left. You exchanged a look with Norm and saw the imperceptible head shake he gave in your direction, and once again, felt pain stabbing you everywhere in your body.

“B-but he’ll be alright, no? He’ll wake up and it’ll be alright?”

You lied to yourself as much as to them. “Yes. Yes, he’ll be alright.”

Neteyam woke up startled, deep nightmares still fresh in his mind, nightmares of a battle, of a ship, of blood dripping over him and on the floor, pain shooting through him ceaselessly. Images of his mother screaming that haunted him, images of your forlorn face as the last thing on his mind before it all ended. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took in the familiar beauty of your meadow and took in the two small bodies resting against his own, nuzzled in his chest. He was ok. Everything was ok. He was home, his kids were safe. The voice humming peacefully blessed his ears, and he knew then that you were also safe. It was just a nightmare.

He quietly untangled himself from his kids’ grasps, that ended up cuddling each other back to sleep, paying little mind to their dad. He took in the sight that swelled his heart so much he felt it was going to explode out of his chest. He has never been happier. He couldn’t imagine life getting any better.

“I didn’t know if you’d come back.” Your voice was soft and angelic, like it always was, but your words confused him.

“What do you mean? Where else would I go?”

You sighed, but patted the spot next to you so he could join you. You looked over at the two little beings sleeping peacefully a few feet from you.

“So these are our kids, huh?”

Further confusion enwrapped Neteyam like a quilt. He didn’t understand most words that were coming out of your mouth.

“So you want two kids? Not three? I always thought you wanted a whole football team.” You say almost to yourself, laughing a little with your hand brought to your mouth in amusement.

“Atan, what is going on? I don’t understand what you are saying. You’re acting like you don’t know our kids.”

You smiled a little in his direction, a sorrowful smile, but as you brought your hand up to his face and caressed his cheek in the way you always did, in the way that calmed his mind and set his skin ablaze, all the worry left him.

“They’re beautiful. So beautiful. Perfect mix of you and me. You know, I used to think about our kids, think about the impossible scenario that you and me could bring life into this crazy world, but they’re so much better than my imagination ever was. Pure and good, unlike the world they’ll never get to see.”

Neteyam didn’t have time to question you, not when the little bundles of joy in question rose sleepily and tackled you both, squeals and happy screams filling up the forest.

“Mummy! Daddy! You’re both here! We missed you, mum!”

“Did you, now?” Neteyam looked at you, and you looked like you were struggling to adjust to the new development, like you were trying to thread the ground and the situation carefully. You looked…uncomfortable. Why were you uncomfortable around your own children? Neteyam’s seen you with Tuk a million times, you were great with children. He couldn’t help the seed of doubt and fear that was growing in his belly, making him nervous. What was going on?

“Let’s swim, all of us! We haven’t swam together in a long time!” Tsyeym pushed to her feet and grabbed you both with all her might, trying to will you towards the river. He watched as you relented, and eventually got up, grabbing her on the way and bringing her up into your arms.

“Wait a second. Let me have a look at you.” You analysed the little girl, your little girl, every feature and freckle on her face. You poked her small nose with your index finger and traced it on her face, on her perfect pink plush lips and her yellow eyes, to her braided hair. You gently grabbed her queue and laughed a little as Tsyeym shrieked - it tickled her. “So you’re my little baby girl? You are the most beautiful thing in the world, aren’t you?” You turned to Neteyam, and he noticed you holding back tears. You looked happy. “She has my eyes. My mother’s eyes.”

Neteyam nodded, confusion still gnawing at him. “Of course she does. Your eyes are the most incredible things I have ever seen in my life. They are like treasures - my treasures.”

“Just like she is.” You held her against your chest and Neteyam watched as his daughter made a home out of it, so stuck to you he didn’t think he could ever separate you again.

“Tsyeym (treasure). That should be her name.”

“Atan… that is her name.”

“And what about this mighty warrior?” Kalin ran to his mother, grabbing onto your leg and holding on, attaching himself to you much like Tsyeym did. You kneeled, with Tsy still in your arms, and did a similar inspection of his son as you just did a few minutes ago. You took him by the hand and twirled him around, taking in every aspect of his being. “Look at this hair! My hair. Tsyeym has your hair, but he has mine. And look at those stripes, just like mummy and daddy, like a little tiger. Come here.” You kissed his entire face, starting with his nose and all around, ending with his human-coloured eyes and the top of his head.

“Why do you taste so sweet? You’re a sweetie pie, aren’t you? You’re mine, my sweet.”

You looked up at Neteyam, like you just had the most brilliant idea. “Kalin!! His name has to be Kalin (Sweet to the taste)!”

Why did you keep doing that? Those were their names, their names you gave them at birth. He was going to ask you what the hell was going on with you, when a loud sound boomed in the sky. It sounded like thunder, but not quite. It must have been thunder, what else could it be? The kids screaming got his undivided attention, and he rushed to their side to comfort them both, grabbing Kalin is his arms and holding him while he saw you doing the same with your baby girl.

“Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright, we’re alright.”

“What was that?”

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

“I know you are, Atan. I just don’t know what you want me to remember. Can you please tell me?”

“I can’t, Neteyam. You have to figure it out yourself. You have to try harder. We don't have a lot of time. Please. I am here for you.”

The river adventure removed the anxiety rising in Neteyam’s chest, and he concluded the boom he heard was just particularly nasty thunder. Thunderstorms were not uncommon in the forest, and the sooner his babies got used to them and realised they were nothing to be afraid of - the better. There was no reason to let it come between them and the perfect day they were having. After a couple hours, you were all soaked, so much laughter and joy Neteyam’s mouth hurt from how much it was stretching to accommodate the unwavering smile refusing to leave his face. Eventually, his family was all too tired to go on, and you all stretched on the grass, huddled together, arms and legs intertwined so thoroughly, it was impossible to tell who was who anymore.

“Mummy, can you sing for us? It’s nap time!”

“Is it nap time already? Sure, sweets. I can sing.”

In her waters, deep and true

Lie the answers and a path for you

Dive down deep into her sound

But not too far or you'll be drowned

“Neteyam…” you were hunched over your mate’s body, alone with just him, alone at last to pour your soul out and hope he would hear you, hope there was a chance. You had to try.

“Neteyam… please. I know you are in pain, and I know how much this life takes and takes from you. I know you’re probably at peace wherever you are, but you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. I know it’s selfish, so selfish, but I need you to please come back to me. I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard, but you have to come back. I can’t live knowing all I’ll ever get is scraps of you, scraps of us. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after I’ve seen the future, so clear and bright in my head. Not after knowing everything I’ll lose if I lose you.”

You walked to the edge of the platform and sat down next to your favourite two scientists, that you were so happy to see, and so sad it was always under such undesirable circumstances.

“How is he?”

“Pretty much the same.” You dunked your feet in the water with a sigh, looking at the way the fish swam in between them, some of them tickling you as they went past.

“How are you? We didn’t even get to give you a check and make sure everything’s alright. You gave him a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I did what I had to do.”

“You saved his life, Ace. He was dead and you brought him back to life. You did it.”

“Maybe. Maybe I just revived his heart so he could be a vegetable for the rest of time. Maybe all I did is prolong the inevitable and give his family false hope.”

“Don’t say that. He’ll wake up.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyed in Max’s direction.

“Come on, Max. We’re all scientists here. What are the chances someone comes back from hypoxic-ischaemic coma? Roughly 70% of people die. And of the 30% that make it, most of them have severe brain damage, that impacts most aspects of their lives.”

“That’s human statistics, Ace. Human statistics have no business here on Pandora. You know that. You of all people should know that. You died. You were without oxygen for 30 minutes, and you came back, after chatting to your mum in the afterlife and her telling you the cure for a deadly virus. You should have faith, Ace. Faith in yourself, in Neteyam…faith in Eywa.”

You couldn’t take another word on the subject, not when you were so close to fully breaking down in front of them, so you chose another - easier to digest, if not as hard to talk about.

“Did Jake and Neytiri go get my dad?”

“Yes. They all went. They should be back soon.”

“Lo’ak said you… went to save him. What happened?”

“He… he’s not who I thought he was. Not who I spent my whole life hating. I was wrong about him. I was so wrong.”

You told them everything that happened after he left you the message, and they listened attentively and gasped softly at every turn of events.

“I… I couldn’t save him. He bled out in front of me. I will never get a chance to make it right. He’ll never get a chance to make it right. I wanted him to stay. I thought we could finally be a family. I thought I could allow him to finally have a daughter, a daughter that stays, a daughter that he got to watch live. I wanted him to be a grandpa. I imagined him teaching my kids about Earth, babysitting when Neteyam and I wanted time for ourselves. I don’t know why, but I feel like he would have been the best grandpa. He saved us, he saved me. He was redeeming himself, he could have been one of the people. We were supposed to be a family. I was supposed to have a family.”

You didn’t even realise you were crying until Norm reached over and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. They didn’t have anything to say. There was nothing, no comforting words, no words of encouragement that would ever mend this, that would ever make this less painful than it was.

Your attention shifted onto the Tsurak that flew above water, a burst of orange in a sea of blue. Behind it were a couple of ilu and in the air, Neytiri’s ikran was flying majestically.

Jake reached your marui first, followed closely by the rest of the Sullys. You got up to help him unload your dad’s body, wrapped beautifully in mangrove leaves and colourful shroud and placed on a stretcher made out of woven tree branches.

He was hidden from you, but it didn’t matter - your imagination was more than enough to paint him right in front of your mind’s eye, bloated and bloodied, wet and dirty from having been left on a rock for 2 days. You just left him there. By himself. You passed out and left your own dad to rot, the same way he did the first time - alone. Your mind was torturing you, the way it always loved to, and you knew this image would be tattooed in your brain, alongside that of Neteyam’s eyes going vacant as you watched, for as long as you lived. No matter how much you healed, no matter how much old nightmares faded, there were always new ones to take their place, new nightmares to show you you will never outrun your trauma. Not now, not soon, not for the rest of your life.

“We talked to Tonowari and Ronal, baby girl. We explained, we told them what Lo’ak and Spider told us, about how your dad fought alongside us, how he saved your lives, and he will be allowed a Metkayina funeral. This way he will be with Eywa.”

Your tears that never ceased multiplied, and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips.

“Thank you.” You ran into Jake’s arms and he hugged you tightly, stroking your hair gently in a comforting gesture. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”

“Of course, kid. Your dad was a good man, and he deserves to be with your mother again.”

You brought him to the Tsahik’s tent, and watched as they undid all the wrappings, until he was in view, and although not as bad as you imagined, he didn’t look good. You knew decomposition worked faster in water than on land, but you never thought you’d have to witness it first hand, and definitely not with your dad.

“Go, kid. We can clean him up.”

You shook your head, not removing your eyes from his body. You left him there, you had to do this.

You knelt on the ground next to him, and Ronal guided you through the required steps and rituals, until he was ready, a few hours later. He looked a lot better when you were done, and you smiled softly, allowing the salty tears to stain your mouth. He looked peaceful. You didn’t think he felt peace in his whole life, so you were at least grateful he could experience it now.

“We will do the funeral ceremony tonight. We will take him to the Cove of the Ancestors after Eclipse.”

Another stabbing pain shot through you, and you wondered how much longer your body would keep going under this amount of strenuous stress. How long until all this heartbreak broke your body down beyond repair?

You returned to your tent, getting ready for the ceremony, allowing your family to paint you in funeral markings, allowing them to dress you in ceremonial garbs, an ornate shawl covering your shoulders - all while you were holding Tuk in your lap. You were cold, you noted absentmindedly. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt cold, but there is was - shivers, like ice water in your veins, running down your spine, extending to each extremity, making a home in your bones.

You needed Neteyam. You needed him to be here, you needed him to be your light, to guide you through this time, to hold you and keep you warm as you had to give your dad to the sea, and say goodbye - forever. But he didn’t budge from his spot on the mat, breathing in and out deeply and regularly. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping.

Neteyam was cold as he woke up from another horrible dream, a similar dream, a deathly dream he couldn’t shake from his mind no matter how much he tried. He kept being pulled in and out of consciousness, it seemed, and he wondered meekly if anything was wrong. Some things felt wrong. Just a little wrong. He took a look at you, buried in his arms, sleeping peacefully next to him, and gasped as your face brought back another dream, so vivid and lucid, it was like it wasn’t a dream at all, like it was a… a memory.

As much as he missed home, Neteyam had to admit little managed to beat waking up in this marui, where the sun was shining through the intricate web of fabrics, creating colourful moving patterns and where the salty air cleared his nose immediately and woke him up with newfound enthusiasm for a new day of discovering all the new ways this place differed from his own. His entire family was fast asleep, and he sighed contently when he felt your breath tickling his neck and your arms and legs draped loosely across his body. He couldn’t help the excited movement of his tail taking you in, knowing he got to wake up next to you every day, that he’d never have to live without this feeling ever again, that he got to call you his mate, his light… his. For life. He kissed the top of you head and watched as you stirred, waking up from your slumber with a haphazard stretch of all your limbs. When your amber eyes met his and your tired smile made its way to your lips, his heart stopped. You were so beautiful.

“Good morning, my love. Did anyone ever tell you it’s ok to not wake up at the crack ass of dawn?”

He smiled, trying to keep quiet so as to not disturb the rest of his family.

“I’m too excited to see you to sleep, Atan.”

You rolled your eyes at him, letting out an amused scoff. He rolled on top of you, pinning you down with his body. You gasped at the feeling of his hard-on rubbing against your core and he smiled at the way your pupils immediately dilated and your breath shallowed, rolling your hips to meet his.

“Atan, it’s the crack ass of dawn, what are you doing?”

“You started it.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Hey, I have had to live for years wanting you and not being able to have you. You have a lot to make up for.”

He laughed again and laughed some more when you pressed your hand tightly against his mouth as his mother turned slightly in her sleep.

“How about we go for a swim, just you and me? Then I’ll make it up to you for as long as you like.”

You raised your head slightly to close the gap in between you and the kiss brought life into him, brought light into every corner of his being until there was nothing left of him but this feeling, the feeling of you overtaking his every sense.

He was panting as the dream faded, panic overtaking him. What was that? It felt so real. So raw. Not a dream. A memory. Your amber eyes, your blue striped skin. He looked at the version of you sleeping in his arms, human, the same human he’s known all his life, the human he fell in love with. The skin he traced with his eyes, the freckles adorning it that Neteyam knew by heart, your hair that flowed softly down your back and tickled his arm where it touched it. Your eyes that were your mother’s, the thing you loved most about yourself - that he loved most about you. The body you left behind when you did your consciousness transfer.

How were you here? In his arms? How was it possible?

“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”

Remember what? What couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he remember?

“Ace, come here. Look at this.” You were about to leave for your dad’s funeral when Norm pulled you aside, showing you the EEG scanning Neteyam’s brain waves. “Look at it.”

You did and your eyes widened as your brain processed what it was seeing. “He’s… seizing?”

“Those are ictal epileptiform discharges. He’s definitely seizing.”

“But his body is still.”

“Not all seizures manifest the same way. There are non-motor seizures, as well. But the waves don’t lie, Ace. He’s seizing. And we can’t know for sure, because we didn’t see Kiri’s brain when she seized, but I think it’s the same kind of seizures. She had interictal activity in her prefrontal when we got to her.”

Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting taking in all of the information and trying to process it, at the same time as dealing with the horrible pain shooting through you and the heartbreak of having to bury your dad without your mate by your side. The world was fading around you, but you knew you had to push through, at least until the end of the ceremony.

If Neteyam’s seizures were the same as Kiri’s, maybe the coma was a lot more than what they thought, than what you thought. Maybe it has something to do with Eywa. Could it be? That he was trapped, just like your mum had been? Could it be that you could find him? Finally see him again? That you could get him back?

Your body quickly caught up to you as the pain became unbearable, and you screamed loudly without meaning to as you felt cramping in your abdomen, like life was being torn away from you with every second passing. The marui and everyone around it quickly disappeared from view, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground and into deep slumber. Maybe you could finally rest.

You woke up confused and numb. The world slowly came back into focus, as did your family members going in between you and Neteyam, unable to figure out who they should worry for at any current moment. You glanced at your arm and then above you, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for Norm and Max, who decided to give you some morphine for the pain. As Lo’ak took note of your cognisance, he let out a scream that came out more like a pained yelp.

“She’s awake. She’s awake.”

Jake rushed to your side and took your face in both his hands, alarmingly checking on you, eyes darting over every piece of you they could cover. Then a look of deep sorrow replaced his previous one, and you felt the panic rise in you once more, not enough morphine in the world to keep the ugly feeling at bay.

“What happened?” Was Neteyam ok? Was everyone ok? What else could possibly be wrong? It didn’t feel like there was anything in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

“You… You passed out, kid.”

Norm’s body was trailing all around you, checking on your vitals and on the other IV you know realised were flowing into your body from various sites.

“Just please tell me. You’re looking at me like you have something to tell me, and I just need to know. Please. I just need to know.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so, so sorry.”

Your entire family encircled you, holding onto you, your arms, your hands, your legs. Looking at you sorrowfully, mournfully, and you felt like you were one sentence away from passing out again.

Max spoke. “The stress… everything you went through the past couple of days, it put a lot of strain on your body. A lot more than it could take.”

“Honey… you had a miscarriage.”

You were wrong, you thought as you felt the consciousness slip away from your grasp once more. There was one thing in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

*poem by Nikki Ursula - Seventy Years of Sleep #4

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

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Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors DNI), lap dances, fingering (f receiving), squirting, PiV sex, dirty talk (kind of? idk), tiny bit of tenderness at the end. Word count | 3.2K A/N: i'm totally aware that i'm way out of my depth here with this HOWEVER somebody had to write my ultimate fantasy of giving eddie a lapdance to pour some sugar on me and here i am, fulfilling it myself. this is based in the Summer of '87, a year after the goings on of ST4, and if it wasn't obvious everyone is still very much alive. also thank you so much for the little amount of love on my last fic, it spurred me on for this one <3

It's the August of '87, Summer was almost over and your job at the local record store had paid so well that you were able to treat yourself to the brand new tape Walkman that had been taunting you in the window for months. Dave, the guy you worked with on occasion, had let you know about the new Def Leppard album, Hysteria, that had been released just days prior.

"It's gonna change your life," he'd buzzed, sliding the tape across to you over the counter. It cost $5, and you were wondering if you could spare it, but the cover work and track list that line the tape taunted you into buying it. You'd listened to some of their music before but you were personally more of a Sabbath girl, glam rock wasn't really your thing.

"Not Def Leppard," Eddie had groaned mere hours later when you appeared outside his trailer, a hot red flush on your cheeks from climbing the steep hill to the park in the heat of the Summer sun, "they fucking suck. They're the band your mom listens to when she's horny."

"Don't talk about my mom like that," you screw your face up at him in disgust, shoving your way past him into the darkness and heat of his home, no A/C because he was a stingy asshole who paid for nothing he didn't have to. You didn't want to think about your mom getting hot and bothered over some rock dude, it was gross.

"I'll fuck your mom," Eddie quips back, looking like he's actually contemplating it, "she's hot, just an older you but probably with a nicer rack."

You shoot him a look over your shoulder, a mixture of annoyance and confusion, "Shut up about my mom, I'll fuck your dad," the hint of a smile is in your voice as you flip open the cassette deck on Eddie's boom box, transferring your tape from your Walkman into it.

"Ha, my dad's dead," Eddie folds his arms on his chest triumphantly, a smug look on his face like he's proud of the fact his dad's dick is off the cards.

"Well look who the real loser is here." you mutter to yourself, making yourself busy with fiddling around with buttons to rewind the tape back to where you need it to be. You catch Eddie throwing himself down on his sofa out the corner of your eye, with a rolled blunt in one hand and a zippo in the other. His t-shirt rumples up a bit so a little expanse of his tummy shows and his legs are spread wide. He looks comfortable.

"Prepare to have your mind blown," you smirk, turning around to grin at him knowingly as the first bars of Pour Some Sugar on Me play. He looks at you with a quirked brow, interest clearly piquing as the riff kicks off.

The song just has this feeling to it, it makes you want to dance and rip your clothes off. It makes you feel sexy. Your best friend would call it a 'stripper song', and she'd be right because that's exactly how it felt. You feel your hips swaying to the beat, Joe Elliot's raspy voice sounding so good.

"What're you doing?" Eddie asks, confusion etching his features as you slowly slide your way over to him, his dark brown eyes looking blown out whilst they drink in the sight of you before him. Your black skirt and fishnets have a rumpled up, worn in look to them from working all day, your Metallica band shirt stuffed haphazardly into the waist line of your skirt, but you look so pretty.

"C'mon, Eddie," you giggle a little, shimmying your way over to his lap, just hovering as you look into his stunning dark eyes, "have some fun with me, let loose a little. This song is just so good it needs to be danced to."

"I'm not much of a dancer," Eddie breathes out, head feeling fuzzy and he can't tell if its from the weed or you. Maybe it's both, he's unsure. His hands are trembling a little, clearly unsure of what to do with himself, unlit half smoked joint now abandoned by his side.

"Well," you hum, finger tapping your chin like you're deep in thought, "how about I dance for you?"

Eddie chokes on his own breath, spluttering a little at what you're insinuating, "Dance for me?" he asks quietly, "As in?"

You don't dignify him with a reply, there's not long left of the song and you'll lose your nerve if you think too much about what you've just said, so instead you turn around so your back is to him, hands braced on his spread thighs as you nestle between them, swaying your hips from side to side in a sensual motion.

Eddie's breath hitches, his eyes going bug wide whilst he looks at the swaying of your ass in his face like this. "Can I touch you?" He asks, the words tumbling out like an intrusive thought before he can even stop himself. He internally cringes, prepared for you to say no.

The music is flowing through your body, all nervousness disappearing as you wiggle your ass back against him, just barely brushing along his jean clad crotch. "Of course you can," you say breathily, keening into Eddie's touch as his large hands grab at the meat of your thighs, fingers digging lightly under the material of your fishnets.

You honestly have no idea what's come over you, why this is even happening. You'd never thought about Eddie in this way before, he was just your weed dealer who you'd on occasion come to pester when there was nobody else around. All you spoke about was drugs and music, with the occasional joke thrown in, but there was nothing else to it.

God damn you, Def Leppard.

Your fingers run up your sides slowly, body still swaying to the song rhythmically and your ass occasionally rubbing back further to glide against Eddie's crotch. You don't miss the way his hands dig into your thighs deeper at that, short nails biting at your flesh deliciously.

"I'm gonna take my shirt off," you breathe out, shocked by the sexy way the words roll off your tongue. Your fingers grip the sides of your Metallica shirt and you take it off in one swift motion, leaving behind just the black lace of your bra to keep yourself covered.

The song is still playing loudly but the thrumming in your ears is blocking it out, just a faint 'pour some sugar on me, ooh in the name of love' gently being heard behind the buzzing. You tilt your head back so it's resting on Eddie's shoulder, his hair tickling the side of your face and neck, as you grind back with purpose now.

Eddie's eyes are glued to your tits, barely covered by the lace covering them still, he can see your erect nipples peaking out and his hands trail up the softness of your tummy slowly, the biting cold of his rings making you hiss a little, "Can I?" he asks, lips sweeping across your ear.

You just nod silently, watching his hands come up to cup the mound of your breasts, his fingers grazing your nipples softly making you moan quietly.

"Do you like that?" Eddie asks, only a little teasing in his voice. He was a guitarist in a band, he had his fair share of women. If you looked over onto his coffee table you'd see a pack of Trojan's hidden not so gracefully under a magazine, a tell tale sign that he was used to this. But nobody had ever done this for him before and you were different, he'd never figured you'd be interested in him in this way.

He'd thought about you sometimes, in his weaker moments with a hand wrapped loosely around his cock. He thought about your plump lips, your soft tummy that was covered up all the time, your thick thighs that were always nicely covered by a skirt or shorts. He didn't think you'd ever worn jeans around him before.

Eddie couldn't believe he was actually touching you and you were letting him, whilst giving him a lap dance nonetheless. His cock jumps when you moan right next to his ear, your hips still tantalizingly grinding up against him.

The song comes to an abrupt end, your hips stilling slowly as the tape fades into another song. Eddie thinks this is it and that's as far as he'll ever get, you'll put your shirt on, steal your tape back and excuse yourself from the trailer.

Only you don't do that.

Instead you turn around, leaning forward into his chest, "Do you want to feel how wet I am?" you ask quietly, batting your pretty eyelashes at him. You take Eddie's left hand and drag his palm under your skirt, letting him feel how hot and achy your pussy is through the lace of your black panties and the nets of your tights.

Eddie gasps quietly, letting his fingers run between your lips and, yeah, you've completely soaked through them. You've gotten this wet giving him a lap dance, "You've got more of these right?" He asks, slipping his fingers through your fishnets with purpose. You nod your head quickly and he takes that as his cue to bring up his right hand to meet his left and rip your fishnets apart, leaving just the lace of your panties in his way.

With one swift movement he flips you down onto the couch so you're on your back with him hovering over you. His eyes look wild, his skin flushed red and his fringe already starting to matte down to his forehead. You can't help but think he looks so beautiful like this.

"I'm gonna touch you now, is that okay?" Eddie asks and, god, he keeps asking and making sure you're okay and you've never had that before. Maybe he's too sweet and this is too perfect, maybe this is just a dream and not really happening. You nod your head anyway, then he's pushing your skirt up your hips and slipping your panties to the side.

It's almost as if he knows what you like immediately, his calloused guitar player fingers slipping between your folds to rub at the length of your cunt, gathering up the juices on his fingers. He slowly slips his middle finger into you, loving the gasp he elicits from your open mouth when the cool metal of his ring hits your entrance. His thumb comes up to play with your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

Your breath hitches, "Oh, Eddie," you moan, eyes slipping shut as he fucks you with his finger at an almost languid pace. The feeling of his thumb on your clit is mind blowing and soon his ring finger is meeting his middle and sliding into you with ease. Your back arches off the sofa, a soft mewl leaving your lips.

"Do you like that, hmm?" Eddie asks and the teasing tone in his voice is obvious now, you can tell he's smirking down at you even with your eyes shut. You feel his free hand come up to move the lace of your bra away from your left nipple, exposing it ever so quickly before his mouth comes down to latch around it.

"M'so close," you gasp, eyes opening so you can look at what he's doing to you, one hand coming up to grasp at Eddie's hair, the tip of his tongue lapping at your nipple feeling like absolute heaven, quiet little 'uh, uh's falling from your lips as he fucks his fingers into you quicker, his thumb on your clit matching the pace.

Eddie's mouth comes off of your nipple slowly, the grin on his face so wide as he watches you fall apart, your hooded eyes looking down at his dark brown ones, blown out with lust. He's looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, like he's starved and you're the first meal he's had all week. "Come for me then, sweet girl," his voice is deep, almost primal sounding and it has you falling apart. Your legs clamp together and shake violently as your cunt squeezes around his fingers sporadically, a sudden gush of wet forcing his fingers out of you.

You gasp loudly, not wanting to open your eyes because Eddie has pulled himself away from you, sitting back on his haunches to see the damp patch left on his sofa between your legs, "What the hell was that? Did you just squirt?" he asks, confusion in his voice.

"I am so, so sorry," you whine, throwing your arm over your face to mask the red of your cheeks, "I've only ever managed to do that to myself, I don't know what happened."

You babble on and on, muttering 'sorry's until Eddie hovers over you again, pulling your arm from your face, "Hey, look at me," he speaks, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand until you open your eyes begrudgingly, "don't apologise, I didn't even know I could do that to someone. It was... it was so hot."

Eddie's voice is gravelly and you can tell from the way he speaks that he means every word, that him making you do that turned him on as much as you enjoyed it. You let your eyes wander south now, and his cock looks painfully hard pressed up against the seam of his jeans.

"Can I?" You ask quietly, bringing your hand down to the front of his belt and sweeping your nimble fingers across it. Eddie nods wildly, brushing his hair slightly out of his face to watch you unbuckle his belt. You've done this before, he can tell by the way your hands don't shake and how you pull open his belt so easily, the way you unbutton and unzip his jeans in one motion.

Eddie helps you pull his jeans and checkered boxer shorts down over his thighs, but he doesn't miss the way you gulp and suck in air sharply as his cock is freed.

It's pretty, you think, as you take hold of it in your hand. From dark, curly hair that nestles at his pubic bone, the way it curves ever so slightly to the left, the dark red of the tip, shiny with precum. It's thick, but not too thick. It's long, but not too long. It fits Eddie perfectly, you can't explain how but it just does.

You give it an experimental tug and Eddie sighs loudly, head falling forward to watch your hand slide along his length, "If you keep doing this I'm gonna cum before we get to fuck," he chuckles, but there's an edge in his voice that you know means he's telling the truth.

"Then what are you waiting for?" You ask, batting your lashes at him, not missing the way his cock jumps in your hand a little. You release him from your grasp quickly, letting him adjust himself so he's back in between your legs perfectly.

Eddie grabs hold of his dick by the base, lets the tip of his cock catch and drag between the lips of your pussy, getting it all nice and wet. You moan, eyelids fluttering a little, as he breaches your entrance, your cunt swallowing up every inch of him like he's meant to be there.

"Fuck," Eddie moans, head falling forward as he bottoms out, "you have no idea how good you feel around me."

You feel so full with Eddie buried in you like this, you can feel his balls nestled at your ass, feel the roughness of the hair on his thighs on the backs of yours, you can even feel his cock twitch inside of you, "Move, please," you beg, shifting your hips a little to get him going.

Eddie does just that, pulling back then shoving himself back in to the hilt. He already has no restraint, you know this isn't going to last long. Not by the way he's already moaning and already quivering.

"Can't believe we're doing this, sweetheart," He moans, draping himself over you as he fucks into you quicker, a rhythm finally setting in, "I've thought about you before, about your pussy, your tits, your face as you cum. I've thought about it all."

You gasp into his ear at his admissions, legs wrapping around his hips tightly as he fucks you with purpose, his cock catching and dragging on that sweet spot inside of you, his pelvis rubbing deliciously against your clit, "Really?" You ask, "What did I do in these fantasies?"

Eddie can't help the groan that escapes him, "Thought about your legs over my shoulders as I fuck you, thought about how your pussy would taste, how your mouth would feel around my cock. I bet you're so good with your mouth."

The moan that comes out of your mouth sounds absolutely feral, you grip hold of his chin with your hand to get him to look at you, your back arching as he fucks you deeper than before, "Fuck me until I can't remember my name."

It's like your words churn up something in Eddie's gut, because he's pushing your leg up to your chest, driving into you deeper and faster than before. The sounds are almost disgusting, the wet slap of his hips against your ass, the slick sound of his cock catching and dragging in and out of your cunt. It's delicious, he's driving you fucking wild.

"I'm gonna cum again," you pant, feeling it building up inside of you quickly, the tightening in your gut intensifying rapidly, "oh God, Eddie," when his name comes out of your mouth it's a loud cry, your cunt gripping around him sporadically as you shudder through your orgasm, hearing him grunt and moan above you as he drives into you faster than before, at an almost brutal pace.

"Oh fuck, fuck you feel so good, so good on my cock," Eddie groans, burying his face into your neck and biting down gently as he rocks into you roughly, cumming with so much intensity that he swears he's died and gone to heaven.

Your pussy is better than heaven, he thinks. He'd quite happily die now with his cock nestled inside of your tight heat.

He keens into your touch as you run your hands through his hair, burying them in when he slumps forward onto you, whole body going limp on yours.

"I take back everything I said about Def Leppard," Eddie mutters silently after a moment, mouthing still at your neck, "they clearly turn me on as well."

You can't help the little, barking laugh that escapes your mouth, that soon dies when Eddie catches your lips with his own, silencing you completely when his hand comes up to rest on the side of your neck, fingers behind your ear and nestled in your hair, thumb caressing your cheek. Kissing makes all of this real and wow his lips feel good. He's slow and gentle, kissing you slowly, completely different to the way you just fucked. It's nice, a stark contrast.

You'd talk about this soon, you were sure of it. But for now this was enough.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson fic #my fanfic #mine #smut #x reader #fem reader #mentions of def leppard because hysteria is one of the best rock albums ever released #stranger things imagine

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 8 months

Text

King of Your Heart

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Chapter 4 "She, her"

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is lowkey toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, self-hate (both characters), smut, oral (m. rec), frankie deserves the best head, unprotected sex, yearning, mention of ptsd, military talk, paranoia, secrets, no y/n, pet names, switch!Frankie, switch!Reader, blind dates, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt, praise kink, reader has complicated relationship with her body, Frankie is a dick (later)

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

The roar of the tires and the crickets in the night filled Frankie's ears. His fisting gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. The wind roared through the driver's side window, the speedometer keeping a solid 70 mph, flying through the traffic lights, hues of yellows and greens streaking through the windshield.

A sharp right turn onto the street where Benny resided, Frankie throws the truck in park not giving a second for it to entirely stop and taking off the seatbelt. He frantically opens the truck door and stomps his way to the welcome mat. His fists pound once, and a light inside flicks. Benny is half asleep and in his boxers with bite marks on his chest. "Fish what the actual fuck?" Benny raises his hand covering his eyes due to the brightness of the dim lamp.

"When she is under your supervision, you look out for her no matter who you're with!" Frankie gritted as he pushed Benny against the door frame. Frankie is heaving like a madman and Benny is fully awake now still processing what Frankie is saying. "Hey! You know her...she can stand her ground but I get it man I wasn't being a friend," Benny raises his hands in defense hoping Frankie would calm down.

"Doesn't fucking matter...if something happened to her it would be on you." Frankie continues his rant, Yes he knows you would do whatever it takes to protect yourself. But a friend will step in at any moment to help. That's what Frankie would do, beat the guy until was bloodied in the face.

"Do you love her?" Benny finally got out of the bruising grip Frankie had on him. He looks at the blonde and finally emerges from his rage trance, "I-I...This isn't about me. This is about her. Her safety. She's our friend for fuck sake," Frankie tries to level his breathing, gazing at the ground and looking at how his boots weren't tied.

"No more blind dates. No more set ups." Frankie brings his line of sight to Benny's eyes, face scrunched in confusion and he finally sees the face Frankie had on. It was possessive and dark. Benny has never seen this side of Frankie, ultra-protective, and very much in love.

"Okay man," Benny agrees and helps Frankie back to his truck. "If you love her...you have to tell her. She isn't a mind reader." Benny said goodbye and closed the driver-side door. "We are just friends" Frankie mutters to himself and starts the engine. Benny watches Frankie drive away and is still confused about the events that happened.

Frankie felt the guilt creep up into his mind when he arrived home and you were standing on the porch, arms crossed, with an exasperated look. He walks up to you like a puppy with their tail tucked between his legs. "I'm-" "You had no right to go after our friend like that" You narrowed your eyes and snapped in Frankie's face. He lifts his head and looks you in the eye, he knew he didn't have the right to do that but he couldn't help that his emotions drove him to do that.

"Benny called me saying you showed up and yelled at him for not protecting me. Fish I get where you were coming from but Benny is right. If I needed help I would've called out for him...we will talk in the morning,"

You and Frankie walk inside and expecting you to leave, you go to his bedroom and crawl back in bed. Frankie sat on the bed and took off his boots before getting under the blanket and sheets. You turn to face him, your hand cups his face, and your eyes look up at him. Frankie's face remained emotionless.

What is she thinking? What am I to her?

You lay a light kiss on his lips before turning your back to him and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

What is he thinking? Are we something more?

You waited for sleep to take over, but your mind was racing making a list of questions you had for Frankie, On the other side of the bed Frankie fell asleep with tears falling down his nose. This protectiveness wasn't out of the ordinary. He was always hyper-vigilant with you, making sure you were okay and safe.

The moon and the clouds painted the sky with an ombre of black and a dark gray. 2 AM. The silence ringing in your ear, waiting for Frankie to wake up and reach over for you. You were sitting up against the headboard, looking at Frankie dead asleep with a scowl naturally built into his face no matter if he was awake or asleep. "Fish, wake up" You nudged him, Frankie's eyes flew open grabbed your hand, and you barely flinched. You were completely used to it, knowing how to handle Frankie and his habits from the PTSD. Your faded perfume on your wrist wafts into his nose. Frankie releases your hand and wipes away the sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry, princess," Frankie mumbles and sits up next to you, adjusting the blanket over his bulge due to you being in his bed and the wet dream he was about to have. You sigh waiting for him to spew out whatever is racing his calculating brain. "I'm sorry for overstepping but Benny was not being a friend and the guys, we have an agreement to always keep one eye on you whenever you're with us...due to you know what happened in Colombia...I know this is just my paranoid brain...but you don't who is working with a cartel or not...it can be just anyone..." Frankie rambled on more about how you can't trust anyone, people talk, and all it takes is one person to ruin a life.

You kept your thoughts about his paranoia to yourself, but you understand the way his brain thinks. It's always working, observing, listening, and making sure there is always a way out. Frankie also made sure that he knows you can defend yourself but don't have the military defensive training that replaced all of the guy's bones when they were in Delta. Your mind is clouded with attraction, getting off on Frankie and how protective he is of you. Always worried about you and never about himself.

It was the protectiveness you had growing up, your father being ex-military and making sure you were always taken care of, engraving your mind with that you hold all control. The warmth that you always put out, now growing into a full flame. Frankie looked into your eyes and could see the fire burning inside of you. He didn't want you to start seeing him as some kind of hero, because he isn't. He's a bad guy. He has done bad things. He is a liability to you. "Please don't look at me that way, princess," Frankie cups your face and he starts to cry. You quickly straddled his waist and hugged him, holding him close to your chest. "Fish, what are you talking about?" You leaned back to look at him.

He sighs and blinks away the tears. You hold the same look, "Like I'm more than just a friend," Frankie winces, and you feel your heart pull towards him trying to escape and run off with him. "Like I'm privileged enough to call you 'mine'." Frankie is talking so low, his breathing is heavy and his eyes won't leave yours. Frankie is breaking down slowly trying to get a glimpse in your mind.

What is she thinking? Does she know what she does to me? She's too smart to play oblivious.

"Fish, you know we are more than just friends, " You were truthful and Frankie froze beneath you, he was trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. His gaze shifted between your lips and eyes, wrapping your legs around his waist, his arms sliding from your back to your neck. He captures your lips with his, it was messy, teeth hitting each other, tongues fighting for dominance, your fingers running through his dark curls tugging on the ends. "Let me make you feel good, pretty boy," You pushed Frankie flat on the bed, pulling out his heavy cock, and you licked the pre cum from his blush tip.

"F-fuck you have such a pretty mouth, princess" Frankie moans, sitting up on his elbows and watching you take in his hard cock into your mouth. You swirl his thick length in your mouth, taking him deeper down your throat. Your nose meets the curly hairs on his mound. His hand pushes you closer to his pelvis, having you gag around him. Frankie whimpers as he felt your throat close up around him. You focus on breathing your nose, you bob your head up and down before taking him down your throat again. Frankie's thigh twitches when you tap the tip on your tongue, just swirling your tongue around it and kitten licks on the slit.

"I want you to cum all over my face, baby," You rasp, sucking on the tip. Your hand wraps the rest of him that was hanging out your mouth. Frankie grunts at your touch, he was in pure bliss watching you suck him off. Frankie fists your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pushes his cock into your mouth. You moan around him, loving how Frankie can still be dominant under your control.

"I'm gonna come, princess, f-fuck rightt noww" Frankie pulls you off of him with a small 'pop' sounded off while you catch your breath. Frankie fists himself, and your hands quickly take charge of jerking him off. White ropes paint your face, his hot cum splattering your cheeks, dripping from your nose to your lips.

You smiled as your hands milk his cock, letting the last few of spurts pool on your tongue. Frankie felt like he could come again from the sight of you with his cum on your face looking so happy. "Swallow it, be a good girl, and swallow my cum," Frankie pants, you swallow it and moan as his cum goes down your throat. He kisses your lips, tasting you and him on your tongue.

After cleaning up you and Frankie stare at each other, you are yelling at yourself for slowly falling for him. This isn't like you. He's your best friend. More than just friends. What now? You know you truly love Frankie for everything that he is and anything that he has. But why is your gut telling you to run?

You and Frankie could be the end all be all. He is worth holding on to. Is it time to cut the bullshit? Time to finally settle down? Going through the honeymoon phase? Meeting his parents? Showing others you have a weakness?

What does 'more than just friends' mean? Still, what am I to her?

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal

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gingiesworld · 5 months

Text

Hello, My Love

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

Word Count: 5.5k

AN: This is the second part to Goodbye, My Love. I hope you guys enjoyed this and please let me know what you thought of it. <3

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @alexawynters @natleft (if you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

18+ MINORS DNI

Five years ago, the riot that had occurred within the prison was broadcasted over every news station. Reports of multiple inmates and Prison Guards were dead, there were more reported injuries. Wanda called Pepper, hoping to hear that she would never get the bad news, which she never did receive the bad news.

Five years, she carried on writing to them, telling them everything that had happened during her week, even telling them about the sucky dates that Nat kept setting her on. She even told them about her last interaction with Jarvis, that was only a few months ago.

“Wanda?” He smirked as they bumped into each other, Wanda tensed up at the sound of his voice. “How is Y/N? I’ve been meaning to visit them, congratulate them on making it to the NFL.” But then he chuckled. “But they never had the chance did they? Because they took the fall for you.”

“Please leave me alone.” Wanda whispered as he just laughed.

“Not so brave without a gun are we.” He sneered as she looked away from him. “It should be you in their place, you should be the one serving time for almost killing me.” Wanda just shook her head and walked away from him, the sound of his laugh remained in her mind for weeks after that.

But what she didn’t know was Y/N was now getting out on good behavior. They walked through the gates, seeing Nat leaning against her car, a smile on her face as she saw her oldest friend.

“Hey.” They gave her a small smile as she opened her arms for them.

“Hi.” She embraced them tightly, afraid to let go with the fear that they might disappear. “Let’s get you home.” They walked to the passenger side and got in, watching the roads as they passed by.

“How’s everyone been?” They asked her.

“Well, Morgan is now a troublesome teen. She missed you so much, the same as your mom.” She told them. “Oddly enough, your dad has tried to help get your release finalised sooner.” She noticed their shocked expression. “I know, I almost died too.”

“What about Wanda?” They asked her as she nodded, a tight lipped smile on her face. “She’s been sending me letters ever since I stopped her or anyone visiting me.”

“I know.” Nat told them. “She told me, she also told me you never replied to any of them.”

“I have written her letters.” Y/N told her. “I have them all here, but I just couldn’t send them to her.”

“Why?” Nat questioned as they looked out of the window.

“I wanted her to be able to move on, even if it meant that I was the one to let her go.” They admitted. “She knows how much I love her and I wanted her to live her life without ever thinking of me again.”

“It didn’t work though.” Nat started as Y/N nodded with a light chuckle.

“It didn’t, she told me about all of the dates you set her up on.” They spoke as they watched the road ahead. “She told me how she couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than one date with any of them.”

“Because she is in love with you.” Nat told them. “She just realised it too late, and you were too much of a coward to tell her.”

“I know.” They nodded. “I just couldn’t deal with losing her if she never felt the same way.”

“I know.” She nodded as they soon reached New York. Their heart started to beat rapidly as they realised that they don’t look the same as they did a decade ago, they have scars and look worn out compared to how they used to look.

“What if no one likes me now?” Y/N questioned as Nat chuckled.

“Believe me, everyone has missed you so much Y/N.” She told them. “Well, except Jarvis.”

“Please tell me he has finally moved away.” They groaned as Nat shook her head no.

“I’m afraid not.” She told them as she pulled into the Stark Mansion driveway.

“Fuck.” They muttered as they looked up at the place they called their home. “It looks even more intimidating now.”

“Yeah.” Nat laughed as she got out, followed by Y/N as they grabbed their bags, following Nat up the stairs to the door.

“Nat?” Pepper questioned as she answered the door.

“Mom?” Y/N smiled as they looked over Nat’s shoulder.

“Y/N?” She gasped as Nat moved to the side, taking Y/N’s bags and heading inside. “You’re home?”

“I’m home.” They told her, a smile on their face as she cupped their face, getting a proper look at them.

“You look rugged.” She told them.

“Yeah, I need to cut my hair.” They admitted as she shook her head

“I think you suit it.” She told them. “Come on, Morgan will be excited to see you.” She led them inside, listening as Morgan and Yelena were talking about their homework. “Morgan, look who’s here.” She told her as she let go of Y/N’s hand, Morgan’s eyes instantly landing on theirs.

“Y/N?” She squealed as she jumped up into their arms, Y/N chuckled as they caught her.

“Oh god.” Y/N hugged her close before letting her go. “You’ve grown so much.”

“Well, it has been 10 years now.” She reminded them as their heart broke a little.

“I missed you little one.” They told her softly as she hugged them tighter than before.

“Promise you won’t leave me again.” She whispered shakily.

“I’m not going anywhere.” They told her honestly. “I promise.”

“Come eat.” Pepper told them as Morgan led them into the dining room, Morgan catching Y/N up on everything they missed.

“You should have seen dad’s face when he found out that I wanted to be a writer.” Morgan told them with a smirk. “I thought he was going to pop a vein or something.”

“Well, he wasn’t happy that you were straying away from the family business.” Pepper stated.

“Just like he wasn’t happy with me when I strayed away from his dreams.” Y/N remarked as Pepper sighed, both Morgan and Nat remained silent. “Where is dad and Jarvis? I would have thought they could have been here, you know it has been 10 years after all.”

“Y/N, you know why your father isn’t here, same with Jarvis.” Pepper warned them.

“Yeah, they’re not happy because Wanda returned the ring when he was in the coma.” Morgan smirked as Nat and Y/N chuckled lightly.

“Your father and brother were devastated!” Pepper raised her voice. “Wanda would have been a fine addition to this family.”

“No.” Y/N shook their head. “She was too good for him.” Pepper went to interrupt but Y/N stopped her. “You know it too mom, Jarvis isn’t a nice guy, he never has been.”

“Y/N, he has changed.” She tried as Y/N snorted.

“And hell has frozen over.” Y/N remarked as Pepper shook her head in disapproval.

“Are you going to tell Wanda your back?” Nat questioned as Y/N tensed up.

“I don’t know.” They answered. “I have her letters there in my bag, but I don’t think she will want to see me.”

“She will.” Morgan told them. “She has been coming around to see how you are, if there has been any news.”

“She hasn’t moved on.” Nat told them. “I’ve tried to get her to go on dates and meet someone, just so she has someone and she doesn’t get past the first date.”

Y/N listened to them as they informed them of how Wanda has spent the last decade, how she has kept hope that she would see Y/N again, be with Y/N and have a future with them.

“Can you take me to Wanda’s?” Y/N asked Nat who only nodded with a smile.

“Let’s go then.” She told them, they kissed both Morgan and Pepper on the head before grabbing the bag with the letters for Wanda, and following Nat out to her car.

“How do you think she’ll react?” They asked her nervously.

“Well, I don’t really know.” Nat answered them. “She was furious that you did what you did for her. There was a brief moment she hated you but we all know she can’t hate you.” She sighed as she pulled up outside of Wanda’s building. “To be honest, she may be mad, she may be happy. It could go either way really.”

“That helps Natalia, really.” They spoke sarcastically as the two got out of the car. They followed her up the stairs to Wanda’s floor, wanting to take as much time as they could before seeing the woman they had failed to forget during their time in prison.

“Nat, what are you doing here?” Wanda asked as she answered the door to her, Y/N leaned on the wall as they heard her voice for the first time in years. Their heart beating rapidly in their chest as their nerves had gotten worse.

“Someone wanted to see you.” Nat told her. “They haven’t really stopped thinking about you or asking about you all day and it is kind of annoying.”

“You should have come later. I have company.” She told her with a raised brow.

“Is it Stu?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, he is just in the shower.” Y/N dropped the bag of letters on the floor as Nat noticed their expression falter before they started towards the exit.

“Well, I will want to hear all about it, but these are for you.” Nat handed her the bag of letters before she hurried after Y/N, she reached them as they leaned against the car waiting for her.

“You told me she wasn’t seeing anyone.” They told her sadly as Nat sighed.

“I thought she wasn’t, I set them up a couple of weeks ago and I never thought she would actually see him again because she never does.” Nat told them as they stepped away from the car.

“I’m going to walk home.” They told her as they stepped away. “I need to be alone right now.”

“Y/N, you’ve just got out, let’s celebrate.” Nat tried as they shook their head.

“Maybe it would have been better if I never survived the riot five years ago.” They told her.

“No.” She scolded them. “You do not get to say that! We have been friends forever and I hated the last decade! I hated it because my friend wasn’t here with me.” She took their hand. “Let’s go and see Steve and Bucky, there is a lot you have missed.” She led them to the car before starting their journey.

“What are those?” Stu asked as Wanda emptied the bag of letters on the table, organising them by date.

“Letters from Y/N.” She whispered as he picked one up.

“Why didn’t they ever send them?” He asked as she shrugged, standing up and getting herself a glass of wine.

“I don’t know.” She answered him, her eyes burning with years of unshed tears and emotions. “I think you should leave.” She told him as he laughed.

“Come on, Wanda, you can’t be serious.” He asked her. “We have been going out for a few weeks now, I asked you to be mine last night before we fucked.”

“Wow, real classy Stu.” She spat at him before she took a deep breath. “Maybe we need to take a step back.”

“No! That’s absurd!” He yelled as Wanda shook her head.

“No, what’s absurd is me thinking I could ever love someone else the way I love them.” She told him. “Please just leave and lose my number.” She told him as she held the door open for him, watching as he grabbed his things before approaching her.

“You’re going to regret this.” He told her as he stood before her.

“The only thing I regret is even giving us a chance.” She told him before slamming the door in his face, taking a deep breath as she locked the door and made her way back over to the letters.

She noticed from the first one, they had written to her since she had sent in her first letter to them. A small smile played on her lips at the idea of Y/N even having some hope for them.

Dear Wanda,

I know that this isn’t exactly a peak milestone in our friendship, but I think it should count. I got your letter and I am sorry that this happened to us. I just couldn’t picture you in here suffering for something that might have saved your life.

You’re my best friend, my biggest supporter, the ying to my yang.

Love Y/N/N

She smiled as she read their small letter, remembering how they could barely stand writing and always opted to call instead. But as she read the letters, she smiled at how much longer they had gotten.

Dear Wanda,

I know you probably hate me by now, I pushed you away when you needed me, but truthfully, you never really did need me. Seeing how you’ve written about your life this past couple of years has really made me proud. I am proud of the woman you have become Wanda and whoever is lucky enough to call you theirs should know it.

I know in another lifetime, maybe it did work out for us, maybe we would have worked out right now if I had the balls to tell you how I felt before college. Before you even thought of being with my brother. We could have had everything, maybe if I am lucky enough and you’re still single when I get out of here, we can have everything. I know that’s a pipe dream that’s never going to happen.

Love Y/N/N

Dear Wanda,

It’s been five years, and these five years have been the loneliest I have ever been. Yeah, I have a cellmate, Brock, he is a dick but he has my back. We have to look out for each other here or we could end up dead, believe me, there are some people here who hate my dad and they do tend to take it out on me because of my name and relationship with him, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

There hasn’t been a day where I don’t think about you, Wanda. Everyday I wake up and wonder what you might be doing today, are you happy and healthy? Have you found that person that makes you smile as soon as you open your eyes? But on some selfish level, I wish that you are as alone as me, I wish that maybe you’re waiting for me to get out of here, but that is all just wonders.

Love Y/N/N

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to read the next letter, given there is a two month pause in between them. Not wanting to read the extent of the injuries they suffered during that riot, the nightmares that occured after or the horror they witnessed.

“It’s so good to have you back!” Bucky cheered as he pulled Y/N into a tight embrace.

“Have you been to see Wanda? I’m sure she will be so thrilled.” Steve started as he pulled them into his embrace.

“We did.” Y/N told them with a small smile. “She had company.”

“She never saw Y/N, they just dropped the letters they wrote to her and left.” Nat told the couple.

“Was it Stu?” Steve questioned as Nat nodded.

“I don’t like him.” Bucky blurted out, making everyone laugh. “What? He is a pompous dick.”

“I can agree with that.” Nat nodded as Y/N looked out of the window.

“Y/N, I have something to show you.” Steve said as he led Y/N away from the other two, closing the door to his office before turning to them. “Talk to me.”

“About what?” They asked him.

“About how you feel.” He spoke softly. “I’ll be here to listen, a shoulder to lean on because I can see that you’re trying your hardest to put on a brave face.”

“I am anxious.” They started as they picked up a picture of Steve and Bucky on their wedding day, a smile on their face as they admired the picture. “I have spent the last decade a nervous wreck, barely a few hours of sleep each night, the threats that I received because of the amount of people who knew who I really was, thinking that The Great Tony Stark will pay out millions to ensure his child’s safety.” Steve just listened as they rambled on. “And tonight, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with the nightmares. The last five years have been ok because I have been in a cell on my own, but I am home and I don’t want anyone to see me like that.”

“I don’t know how bad your nightmares are, but you have a lot of support here, your sister, mom and you have all of us. All we want is to help you through this because you have suffered a great deal while you have been inside.” He told them. “You won’t be alone ok.” He pulled them in for another hug before they pulled away quickly.

“I missed your wedding!!” They yelled as Steve nodded with a laugh. “I can’t believe I missed everything!!”

“It’s ok.” He smiled at them before resting his hand on the door handle. “Talk to Wanda, you never know what will happen tomorrow. You of all people should know that.”

Wanda stood at the step of the Stark Residence, knocking frantically, after reading the letter they wrote after the riot, she wanted to know why no one told her of their injuries.

“Wanda?” Morgan questioned as Wanda gave her a smile.

“Hi, is your mom here?” She asked the teen politely.

“Yeah, come in.” She let the now brunette inside, leading her to the living room where Pepper sat reading the paper.

“Wanda, what are you doing here?” Pepper questioned. “I would have thought you would be out with everyone celebrating.”

“Why would I be celebrating?” She questioned as Pepper raised a brow.

“Y/N’s home.” Was all she said before the door opened again, Wanda turned in time to see Y/N enter the living room. Her eyes stung with tears waiting to be shed as Y/N’s eyes widened, their heart beating rapidly in their chest as Pepper cleared her throat. “I think you two should talk.” She got up and grabbed Morgan’s wrist. “We are going out for dinner.” With that, Wanda was left in the house alone with Y/N.

“Hello, my love.” They gave her a nervous smile. “Do you want a drink?” They asked her as she just shook her head, her eyes never leaving their form. “Well, I need one.” She followed them into the kitchen, watching as they grabbed the whiskey and poured themselves a glass.

“You look different.” Wanda told them as they chuckled.

“Well, it has been 10 years.” They chuckled as they turned to face her.

“Don’t do that.” She told them firmly. “Don’t make it seem like this is all on me. I wanted to wait for you, fight for you, for us, because you were the one who pushed me away.”

“Because I wanted you to live your life Wanda! You deserve to find your happiness and not be constantly haunted by the thought of us!” They yelled as she chuckled dryly.

“Is that why you never sent me any of those letters? You just kept them in a bag thinking I would never read them.” She spat as she stepped closer to them.

“I wanted you to move forward Wanda. I wanted you to live your life and not wait on me.” They told her softly.

“I was willing to wait for you because I loved you!” She poked their chest. “I really loved you.” With that she left the house, leaving a sad Y/N behind.

“She just left?” Morgan asked as she sat beside Y/N on the sofa.

“Yep.” They nodded as Morgan chuckled lightly.

“I would have thought she would have jumped your bones after not seeing you for years.” She told them as they nudged her arm.

“Hey! Don’t talk like that.” They scolded her as she gave them a serious look.

“I’m not 6 anymore Y/N.” She told them. “I’m 16 now, but you wouldn’t know that, I haven’t had a happy birthday off of you in 10 years.” With that she stormed up to her room as Pepper walked in.

“Just give her time.” She told them. “She missed you so much when you were arrested, she cried every night for you.”

“I’m sorry mom.” They whispered as they looked at Pepper who only smiled.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” She told them. “I know the truth of what really happened. Nat told me, and then Wanda did.” Y/N sat and listened to her as she spoke. “I know what your brother is capable of, I know what he did to Wanda too and why she did it.” She turned to face them as she spoke. “I also understand why you did what you did, although I was furious with you, because you threw away your career for someone.”

“It wasn’t just someone.” Y/N remarked as Pepper smiled at them.

“I know that, I remembered seeing how you looked at her, how much you hated every guy she ever dated, how they were never good enough for her.” She told them. “I know you more than anyone, but you need to get your feelings in order because that girl has waited for you for 10 years.”

“She’s with someone.” Y/N told her sadly. “She told Nat and the guys.”

“Fight for her.” She told them. “Don’t give up on the one thing that gave you hope!” She pulled them up to their feet. “Go, now!” She handed them their keys, a smile appearing on their face. “I kept it looked after all these years, I may have neglected my own car just to keep yours running.”

“Thank you mom.” They whispered as they hugged her, soon racing their way to Wanda’s apartment, remembering the address and the number. Racing up the stairs, soon standing outside her door. Knocking frantically and waiting impatiently for her to answer it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked them as they gave her a small smile.

“The way we left it the other day, it shouldn’t have been left like that.” They rambled as she fought the smile that wanted to appear. “We both should be happy to see each other, not argue over something so small.”

“Would you like to come inside?” Wanda asked them. “I have a fresh pot of coffee on.”

“I would like that.” They smiled as she stepped aside, allowing them inside. They followed her through to her kitchen, admiring the decor and the pictures she had on the wall. “I got your letters.” They told her. “They uh got me through a lot of tough times.”

“Why didn’t you ever send your letters?” She asked them as they sighed, thanking her for the cup.

“I thought that maybe you would forget about me. Move on with your life without me.” They told her honestly. “I guess, I just thought that maybe you would be married to a great guy with a family of your own.”

“I couldn’t.” Wanda whispered as she looked in their eyes. “I tried to move on, I did but my heart belonged to you.” She exhaled sharply before continuing. “It still does.”

“Wanda.” They whispered as they soon pulled her in for a tight hug, Wanda sighed as she felt their strong arms around her middle. The two remained in this position for a long moment, neither wanting it to end just yet.

“Sit with me.” Wanda said as she soon dragged them to sit on the sofa, her head leaning on her hand as she gazed at them. “You have some scars.” She lightly touched their face as she looked into their eyes.

“Well, the riot wasn’t the only violence I had experienced.” They told her honestly. “I had a few run-ins with some of the inmates, and they weren’t exactly nice.”

“I think you look hot.” She whispered as they soon removed her hand from her.

“You’re in a relationship.” They told her, watching as she shook her head no.

“I ended it last week, the day Nat gave me your letters.” She told them honestly. “I knew there was no sense in moving on because I should be with you, Y/N.”

“You can’t say that and expect me not to kiss you.” They told her barely above a whisper, caressing her face as she smiled at them.

“What if I want you to kiss me?” She replied, biting her lip as she felt their hot breath fanning over her face. Y/N wasted no time in pressing their lips onto hers, kissing her roughly before she straddled their lap, soon spending the night exploring each other’s bodies.

Y/N listened as there was constant yells and banging from outside the cell, sharing a look with Brock who got his own homemade shiv from under his pillow. Watching as he disappeared onto the walkway, yelling profanities as he swung his weapon around.

Y/N listened to the pained yellings of injured inmates, the triumphant shouts of others as they stepped out of their cell, looking over the railings to see the guards also fighting for their lives. It wasn’t until they looked to their left, seeing someone charge at them, sending them over the edge and onto the lower level. Groaning as they turned over just in time to stop another stabbing them.

“Y/N!” They heard Brock call out to them, struggling against two fellow inmates. “Y/N!”

“Y/N.” They soon jolted awake and fell out of the bed, a worried Wanda looked over the edge. “Are you ok?” She asked them as they got up, climbing back in the bed and nodding.

“Yeah, it was just a nightmare.” They told her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked them as she rested her head on their chest.

“I’m fine.” They told her. “Let’s get some sleep.”

“Is it about the riot?” She asked them as they took a deep breath. “I saw your other scars, I just want you to know that you can talk to me.” She told them softly. “I am not going anywhere.”

“It’s just, there was someone who I could have saved.” They told her. “My cellmate, Brock, he always had my back. Always stuck by me, even though he had every possibility to kill me to get in good with others who wanted me dead.” Wanda watched as they spoke, her fingers tracing mindless patterns on their skin. “He died, trying to help me. I wasn’t supposed to survive that riot, I was supposed to bleed out beside him but the guards, they shut it down.” Wanda took their hand in hers. “I was lucky, this scar here.” They pointed to the scar on their chest. “This was my end.”

“I’m so sorry.” Wanda whispered as they shook their head. “It should have been me who went to prison, not you.”

“I would make the same choice every time.” They told her softly. “I would do anything for you Wanda. I always will.” She cupped their cheek as she moved to sit up, the moonlight cascading over her naked form as she looked deep into their eyes. Noses brushing together as she leaned in to kiss them lovingly, the bodies pressed together as Y/N wrapped their arms around her, making her feel safe and complete for the first time in her life. Only they know what their future holds for the two.

Five Years Later

Y/N was looking around for their belt and work boots frantically, nervous about this job as it is a big job for them.

“Wanda! Have you seen my?” Their words were lost in their throat as they saw a four year old Tommy waddling around in their boots and their belt hanging from his waist. “What do we have here little fella.” They smiled as they picked the toddling child up into their arms.

“I’m so sorry, I tried to keep him away from your things.” Wanda ran in frantically as Y/N only smiled at her.

“It’s ok.” They smiled as they kissed the side of Tommy’s head. “I am my own boss after all.” They pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

“I made your lunch.” She told them as she packed their bag with sandwiches and a flask of coffee as they finished getting themselves ready.

“Thank you.” They smiled as they finally stood up, ready for work. “My mom said she will have the twins tonight and maybe we can have a little date night.”

“I already promised Nat I would go out.” Wanda spoke seriously as Y/N’s smile faltered. “I can cancel if you want me to.”

“No, you should go and let your hair down.” They told her softly. “At least don’t drink too much and call me when you want to be picked up.”

“I will.” She kissed them once more before Billy came running into their arms, hugging them tightly before the three of them waved Y/N off as they drove their truck to the site, meeting Bucky already there and ready for work.

“So how is the wife and kids?” Bucky asked them with a smile.

“They are great, although Tommy seems to have taken a liking to my boots.” They told him honestly as they finished their last job for the day. “My mom is having the twins tonight and Wanda is going out with Nat.”

“So, you have the house to yourself.” He smirked as Y/N chuckled.

“I guess I can do some of the jobs that need doing and I haven’t gotten around to.” They shrugged as Bucky nodded.

“Or you can just sit back and relax.” He told them. “You’re not in prison now Y/N, besides, you served your sentence.”

“Not really though.” They shrugged as Bucky shook his head, the two standing up getting ready to leave. “I only finished half of my sentence.”

“But you got out.” Bucky told them. “You’re free to live your life, watch your family grow. Don’t dwell on the past.”

“I’m not.” They defended as Bucky followed them to the truck.

“You are.” He told them seriously. “Look, I don’t know half of what happened inside but I do know that you have the life you have always dreamed of with Wanda and the twins. Yeah, you may not have your dream job but that’s ok. You just have to make the most of the life you have now.”

Y/N took in his words before the two went their separate ways, he was right because they have always dreamed of living this life together with Wanda. Having a family with her and they have it all.

“I thought you were going out?” Y/N asked as they saw Wanda coming out from the kitchen, a dish of their favorite meal in her hands.

“I can go out with Nat anytime, but I want to spend the night with you.” She told them. “I cooked your favorite.” She told them as they smiled at her.

“Thank you.” They told her as they approached her, their hands wrapping around her waist. “For waiting for me and making me the happiest person alive.”

“I love you Y/N.” She told them sincerely as she looked in their eyes. “I will always love you until my dying days, and even in the afterlife, I will love you.” They captured her lips in a gentle kiss before she pushed them away, a teasing smirk on her face. “Go and shower, I’ll keep the dinner warm.”

“I love you Wanda Maximoff.” They told her. “You have always been the light of my life.” She blushed as they ascended the stairs to their shared bedroom, the walls were lined with pictures, from the memories they had made together, some from before they left for college, and more from when they had come back into her life. The moments they had shared together which made their hearts glow as one, even brighter the moment they brought the twins into the world, making their family complete.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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mikeysbabygirl · 2 years

Text

DEAD GIRLS TELL NO TALES

Masterlist-

NEXT CHAPTER-

Pairing : Bonten!Rindou Haitani x fem!reader. Bonten! Ran Haitani x fem!reader

Synopsis : " 'cause two can keep a secret if one of them is dead "

" Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned"

What if their first love came back ? What if everything they thought had happened that night was a lie ?

WARNING : +18, Minors DNI. This story will contain explicit smut, heavy scenes as violence, sex work, sex trafficking.

Word count : 10k ( I talk a lot sorry )

Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !

CHAPTER 01:

And if you were asked, what could you say about being a woman ?

Being dismissed, raped, told to shut up and bake cookies. Because a man who speaks his opinion is still a man, but when a woman speaks her opinions out loud she suddenly turns into a bitch. And you were okay with it, really. If being a bitch means being a woman who won't bang her head against the wall obsessing over someone else's opinion, then you would gladly wear that name as a crown.

The rules are simple, If you're a girl, you are allowed to be pretty, cute, sexy, just don't act too smart, don't stand up for yourself. If you're a boy, on the other hand, there are no rules.

To not be mistaken for what you were not, you liked men, men sure are cool, and strong, and leaders.

But that alone wasn't enough to tell if they deserve to live or not. It wasn't enough for the man you were watching.

Gross...

Disgust increased inside you at the way he was eyeing you from his table, a young pretty raven haired girl sitting on his lap, barely seventeen...

It was way too easy for them to mistake the look on your eyes, full of murderous instinct with a seductive one, what a bummer... Not that it didn't work on your favor, you knew by the end of the night, he would be yours, eternally, the last one he would give himself to.

You sure were no one to decide who should live and who should not, you never claimed to be god. But in that case, where were him ? How could he let all of this happen to those young girls ?

He wouldn't allow all of this abuse, sure he was missing. And you were pretty sure he wouldn't mind if someone did the job until he would come back.

Masashi Ogawa, what a powerful, influential man. A forty-year-old politician, 6'2" full of empty promises and superficial smiles, 182 lbs of perversion.

Underneath it all, the designer suits and the perfect dad next door's hairstyle, sleeps a disgusting human being, one that only wakes up when ships from Saudi Arabia would anchor in Tokyo's harbor.

He was an essential part of the equation, was, because from the sultry looks he was giving you from his table on the club, you already got him wrapped around your finger.

He occupies a high place in the hierarchy of La Compagnie, an underground organization wearing a fresh cute french name, as fresh and cute as the colleen and high school girls working to fill their pockets.

La Compagnie is a living hell, managed by the dirtiest devil to ever grace the earth, Hiroto Mori.

Once upon a time, a man you called dad.

Politicians, lawyers, supreme court justices, doctors and many more involved in minor's trafficking and pimping. It would take a year to explain how it goes behind closer doors, but to summarize everything, La Compagnie has been active since so many years, maybe even before your birth, a very well planned organization.

He stood up, your heart missed a beat as you watched him hold the girl's hand and start walking down the stairs separating your floor from his VIP one, every step he was making, you knew toward you, made this huge club shrink in size. Your sweaty palm caressed your inner thigh discreetly, checking on the garrote attached to your garter belt, you sighed as he got closer.

Four years of planning, training, four years of hatred and grudge, this had to work, you took so many risks for it, everyone sacrificed so many things for it, It has nothing to do with your humanity or your conscience, these are of no use when dealing with such monsters.

This is the right thing to do, your mind kept repeating. So many broken families, so many destroyed lives, someone has to do something, otherwise this nightmare would perpetrate for years.

And as much as you worked for it, convinced yourself that it was not such a big deal, you knew your world and life was about to change completely.

Not that it didn't already...

He and his mistress passed by your table, his arm wrapped around her waist. She didn't look at you, like a rag doll she just stared straight ahead, but he did. He gave you a suggestive look followed by a supposedly charming smile, a silent invitation. You wouldn't have been able to hear his words anyway because of the cacophony and music of the club.

You returned his smile with a slight nod, faking your interest on his silent offer. You could feel his burning gaze on your body as he passed by, and suppressed a disgusted shiver. You hated to remember you only wore that dress for him, a tight short white dress that gave you that angelic air he adores, this surely was what caught his eye on you, and you hated that you had to use your body to get to him.

Women are not defined by their body, and if often they would use it to achieve their goals, it only showed how men got easily distracted. Right, why should a woman feel guilty about using her charm to fulfill her goal, if a man doesn't feel shameful to fall for it ? It was their fault in the first place if a nice ass got them losing their minds.

Just like Masashi, letting his guards down for a beautiful pair of breasts. If he took some time to overthink it a little bit, he would have figured out that there is nothing good in him that would make a twenty two lady interested in a threesome with him and a teenage girl, way too young to be in such a club.

Men will be men, you shrugged as you drank down what was left from your drink. Making sure your lipstick wasn't ruined before getting up, adjusting your dress and silently taking the same path they just walked to.

A few meters further on, you could see him pass the dance floor to rush into a rather dark corridor located at the corner of the club, surely the one that leads to his private apartments. A remote room, it was perfect, the plan followed the path traced. You felt like a god that night, the rules were yours, the destiny was yours to write, and the punisher was none other than you.

The sound of your heels clicking on the floor had something extremely empowering when you stepped inside the corridor, the loud music and people's voices from the dance floor were muffled now, your senses were sharp, alerted by every little sound since you couldn't see much of things due to the darkness, following slowly where their footsteps sounds were leading you.

Finally, you arrived at the end of that long corridor, and you were met by his sultry eyes analyzing you from head to toe with a huge smile, he was standing inside his room holding the door largely open.

He didn't recognize you, it's been years now, you grew up, you changed, you barely recognized yourself.

-" C'mon little lady, don't be shy " he opened the door he was holding a little bit more, making space for you to step inside.

Shy, you would have laughed if you could. If only he knew...

You entered the room silently with a smile, eyes roaming around every corner of that one. It was a spacious room, very refined. There is no doubt that this club belongs to him. The walls painted in dark colors contrasted with the light colors of the bedding, on which incidentally was sitting the teenager, wearing a dress much too tight for her own comfort.

Her features didn't show any fear, which told you she has been by his side long enough to turn numb to everything. Her brown eyes were so empty, and under the low light, you could see some bruises adorning her pale skin here and there. Just as a good puppet, she sat on the edge of the bed with her hands on her lap, and didn't moved an inche when Ogawa closed the door and slowly walked toward her, stood next to the teenager and moved her hair to the side to start placing kisses on her neck's skin.

His dark eyes looked up to you, who were still standing close to the door, and he smiled on her neck.

-" That's my good girl, her name's Shuko".

No, no she's not. Her name's Lisa, you stole it from her, as well as her life and youth.

-" as for me, you can call me daddy" he stated with a wry smile.

What if I called you dead, instead? You stopped yourself right in time from rolling your eyes.

A small laughter left his mouth when Lisa whimpered, he pulled her hair slightly to lift her head up so she was kissing him, and you had to swallow the bile coming up your throat.

The morality of this world has sunk deep down into its own unheard rock bottom, leaving a few bubbles to reach the visible layer. But the human eye has accepted its virtue on the merits of wealth, power, race, religion, fortune, fame and forged promises. Bypassing the penultimate truth. Every seed was conceived from the womb of unbiased morality.

And if you had doubts running to your head previously, now looking at the shell of a human being Lisa turned into after they stole her innocence, every bit of it disappeared into an ocean of hatred and rebellion.

She, as well as million other girls and boys could not do anything, they had to accept their fate. But you, you rose up from the death, the ball was in your court.

If the price of saving those lives was your humanity, your soul, then be it.

Then fucking be it, you thought as you watched him gesture you to come closer, sliding the straps of Lisa's dress to uncover her young bruised breasts.

Lions were raising from their slumbers, turning their head up to the sky. Hearing their roars felt like claps of thunder, breaking from the spell they were under.

Looking through her awakened eyes, lions were raising from your slumber.

With a slow, teasing step, you approached where he was standing. You could see he was struggling to contain his excitement through his eyes, and you wondered if he could see your hunger for blood through yours.

When you were in front of him, with a slight smile you ran your hands over his silk shirt, unbuttoning it at the same time under his burning glance.

-" gorgeous" he whispered, eyes lost on your features, your smile widened, eyes still focused on your task.

You chose to stay silent, he didn't have to hear your voice, he didn't even needed to, isn't it what they liked ? When women were being silent ?

Deathly silent. You were afraid that if you opened your mouth, all that would come out would be a sob. You were sure a strong woman now, but this, this was the most exciting event you ever experienced, and that meer fact was frightening.

Hell, just what kind of cursed dirty creature were you, to get excited for what you were about to do ?

You were done with his shirt, and lifted your head to look him in the eyes, feeling Lisa's hues on you as well. You couldn't quite tell what she was thinking about, her expressions were unreadable, and you were sorry she had to witness what would come, she already went through a lot...

-" What's your name ?" He asked, tilting his head to the side curiously.

And for a second you wondered, what would he think if you told him your real name ? Would he even remember ? Would he regret ? Would he be scared ?

Surely not, you were a little lamb back then, a seventeen little girl thrown to the wolves, just as Lisa.

Good, now you would give him a reason to be scared.

Ignoring his question, your palms laid flat on his chest to push him on the bed, his dark brown eyes flickered with surprise at the strength of your push, but it was soon replaced by lust when you straddled him, knees sinking in the mattress on each side of his body with your dress riding up your thighs. The man gulped down, his hands came caressing your skin, roaming way too high under your dress, but you let it slide, he wouldn't make it long enough anyway.

Looking at your brighter eyes, he lifted his head from the mattress, lips parted to welcome yours. You bend over a little more, reaching for the garrote and taking it out, his eyes widened slightly, burning with excitement.

-" I could never tell you were into this " his sly smile showed his ignorance, he was so wrong to think all of this was a kind of game, you were done playing long ago.

You saw the girl startling next to you two on the bed, you didn't gave it much attention, sure they used to beat her with things like that according to the bruises on her body. She must be thinking what her role was into this, wanting to be obedient and avoid any punishment , if only she knew from now on, she wouldn't have to take orders from anyone.

The garrote was a leather lace, very good looking, it had nothing to do with the weapon used since antiquity, so much that he had mistaken it for whatever sort of sex toy. But it was pretty strong, unfortunately he won't be alive to testify it after.

Impatient, he buckled his hips against yours, palms trying to get your closer to his body, your smile disappeared right then, frustration starting to get the best of you, you always had a short temper anyway.

Leaning just a little more against his ear, he moaned shamelessly, you did nothing but starting to wrap the garrote around his neck, so softly you didn't even recognized the strength you worked for four years to get. You were not really into those role plays or games, but sure rope games implied fake choking, and you started thinking he really was into it from the bulge growing in his pants.

He felt your smile widen against his ear, your eyes looked at the girl on the edge of the bed, heavy with meaning, then you whispered.

-" The hunt... Is on "

He couldn't comprehend your words, because as soon as you spoke, both of your hands pulled agressively at each side of the rope, and his eyes widened while his hands flew to his neck, trying to free himself from the grip.

Lisa got off from the bed, a cry left her mouth, eyes watering and body trembling, standing as far as possible from you. She eyed the door, thinking about running away but you shot her a look that immediately dissuaded her, which made her only start crying louder.

So, so burdened with a Machiavellian mind, diseased with hemorrhagic heart, sickened by corruption. You couldn't see him as a human being suffocating under your grip, you saw him as a result, the remnant of the bad in a corrupted society, and you had to eradicate it.

It was far from being easy, he moved like a ragged beast under you, flailing around, clutching and clawing at your thighs, trying to reach your neck, throwing a couple of hasty punches at your chest.

But evil isn't supposed to be easy, it never was. Human brain is coded for compassion, guilt, for a kind of empathic pain that causes the person inflicting harm to feel a degree of suffering that is in many ways as intense as what the victim is experiencing.

You looked at him trying and trying, turning blue and cyanotic, hearing his strangled sounds and the muffled cried and pleads of the teenage girl.

It was a mess, the rope burning your hands until almost drawning blood, the scratches on your skin, you tried your best to stay there straddling him while he fought for his life, just like he was drowning, he never seemed to reach the surface.

You could see the fear and anger in his eyes, and hear Lisa begging for whatever, but you were not there anymore, it was like you were looking at them, at you from above, like a god.

Taking a human's life was a weird experiment, somehow hard to describe. It was awful, it smelled like blood, brought unwelcomed fear of yourself and shame into you, but the adrenaline made you swallow it gladly, take it until the last breath of the life dying like a candlelight under your hands.

You were strangling him, and guilt was a demon strangling you from inside, but everytime you heard a broken cry from the girl struggling to keep her body steady near the window, you pulled at the rope harder, rage seeping through your eyes until he couldn't find the strength in him to hit you or scratch you anymore, to move anymore.

And you became too dizzy, dancing with your demons to notice his hands turning cold, the more his grip on your thighs loosened, the more you distanced yourself from reality, beasts roaring inside you commanding to surrender your soul. You kept losing your reigns, letting them take away every bit of life, as you lose humanity bit by bit, you kept blurring away from this world.

You looked at what used to scare you in the eye, and showed them the devils they created in you.

They told you. They told you to never look in their eyes, that it would make things easier for you, but you did. You stared at his eyes slowly getting lost in the background, and you took all the damage that came with it because taking a life isn't supposed to be easy, it is supposed to make you feel hideous, it is supposed to make you want to stop, and every fiber of your dying soul begged you to stop, that it still was not late. Yet, there was this rotten part, the one smiling deviously and making you wonder why would you stop when they didn't? Why would you have mercy on them when they didn't have any for you or for anyone else ?

His hands started slowly falling on each side of his body, you looked absent-mindedly as his pupils dilated, spiders crawling upon your brain, you could feel them wrestling for control.

You didn't let go of the garrote, even when his lips parted open, even when his head fall back on the mattress, not even when Lisa's cries stopped.

He was the first on a soon mountain of corpses you would lay your head on, the first stain of blood on your soul.

You killed yourself that day.

It wasn't a bad thing.

It wasn't the whole,you just cut the parts that don't define anymore. Embraced the truth, in order to make this world a better one, or at least this country.

You killed yourself, but the real you survived and was building from the pieces bit by bit.

He was now lying under you, lifeless, silent. The room was too silent, deathly. You couldn't stop looking at your mess, your masterpiece, from where he was now, he couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

The silent treatment was hard to take, you would rather take a verbal beating to fill the holes inside.

Surrender came in a different form, as if holding to the rope was a kind of denial for what you did, but as you as you let go of the weapon, the truth fell on your shoulders, and it stinks.

Your eyes trailed to the mirror on the vanity not far from the door, you looked at your reflection. Stared at the reaper into her deep cold eyes, and you weren't scared of her.

You lived in hell for years at a time, learned to accept that bringing your soul back from the abyss, you must have forgot some parts. It was strange to look at her reddened hands because they looked nothing like yours, they were heavy, weighting on you as a silent reminder for what you just did.

And you got up, taking your weapon by the way. You weren't guilty, maybe it was too soon to feel it, yet you were numb, and scared.

Scared that you were not yourself.

Or more precisely scared that you were yourself, this is you.

Afraid of what's hidden in the rotten parts, of what they turned you into.

They killed her, the young you.

Silent now was your heavy chest, for when she left your heart grew still, you wished to slay yourself for the thirst you felt even after this, the hunger. But what has died you cannot kill.

The young girl's eyes widened and her back pressed against the wall when you turned to look at her, Lisa couldn't believe it, the beautiful, stunning woman she saw on the club was now nothing more than a monster, your eyes were so lifeless, devoid of humanity when you made small steps toward her, and her heart was bleeding from fear and anxiousness. Though she already went through the worst, being sold and used at fifteen, she never saw something like you.

Never saw a man like you, no, you were a woman, graceful, Lucifer disguised as an angel, you held yourself so proudly that she thought the world belonged to you.

Like a god.

-" Please" her voice came out as a muffled cry, through your rough and numb surface, she managed to make your heart squeeze in your chest with those tears in the corner of her hues. You reached for the syringe that was also hidden in your garter belt, taking it out and seeing her gulping down, tears starting to run down her cheeks again.

- " Please no, I didn't do anything... "

-" I know." You took off the lid of the syringe, making eye contact with her shaking form again. " For your sake, it is better to not remember anything ".

Her eyes went from you to the drug in your hands, then back to your face. It was easy to figure out how frightened she was, fisting her hands on her sides when you came closer, she didn't even showed the same fear for the man previously, no, you were really something else.

-" When you'll wake up, they'll take you back to your family, 'kay, Lisa ?"

Her eyes widened, her chest tightened, it has been so long since no one called her by that name, your voice was so empty yet your words wanted her to relax, and made her relax despite she didn't wanted to.

Her family, so many ones promised this, just to take advantage of her body and leave her in that living hell again, no one could free her, all those were empty promises.

But you had nothing to do with them, you didn't even looked at her body, you looked at her without prejudice or expectations, you didn't asked for anything, you were frightening, but something about you had her wanting to surrender, she could do nothing even if she wanted to anyway.

Making a last step toward her, you thought it would be better to warn her about what would come. She grew into such a world, these last years, where no one asked for her permission, consent, treated her like an object. And though you would do what you had to do with or without her answer, she needed to feel like she took the wheel, like she has some power.

-" Now, gonna stick this needle into your jugular vein, and you're gonna fall into a deep slumber. " You explained, removing the bubbles from the syringe. " When you'll wake up, the cops would take your statement, but all you would remember is him taking you, and only you " your eyes warned her. " to this room, then, everything blacked out, and you found yourself in the hospital with your crying mother next to you, is it okay Lisa ?"

A lump forming in her throat, she nodded her head absent-mindedly. All of this seemed so unreal, ethereal, could she really trust you now ? Would you really bring her back to her family?

After two long years, it sounded impossible, but you just killed Masashi Ogawa, her worst nightmare, a man feared by thousand others on the underground. You made it possible and a desperate, immature part of her inner self wanted to believe you, as you rested your hand on her bruised neck to tilt her head to the side.

-" Gonna hurt ?" Her broken voice shattered your heart. She looked like an injured puppy, eyes wide stuck on yours, searching for some maternal instinct. You shook your head, shushing her as you slowly penetrated the needle inside her vein.

-" nothing will hurt anymore, I'll make sure of it " the liquid slips smoothly inside her body, emptying the syringe, she stared at your with fear and tears in her brown hues, slowly going half-lidded while her body started relaxing. You caught her, by wrapping your hand around her waist, and her head fall back, she whimpered faintly.

-" I've got you, I'm here to make it better ".

And she blacked out, finally closing her eyes and falling into a deep slumber. You rested her body carefully on the bed, as far as you could from the dead one.

Dead, you still struggled to believe it. Numb, you couldn't recognize your own body, as if you were projected out of it, flying somewhere and seeing it from above. Your actions were those of an automated, took the phone from his pocket, they gave you his password anyway.

Scrolling through many of his secret recorded videos at La Compagnie's hotel, you chose a random one of them, they were all equally incriminating.

The video was a short one, not more than four minutes but everything was there, from the way he used that obviously too young girl's body, to the way she wouldn't stop crying under him. You rolled your eyes, couldn't believe he held such an evidence with him so nonchalantly, but then only made your blood boil because it was once again a proof that they weren't scared of anything.

Except you. You swore to become their worst nightmare.

Alaya Kuuro, yes, this one would make the job. She was a honest journalist, dedicated her life fighting for the weak never asking for repay.

In less than an hour, everyone would know about Masashi Ogawa, a cheerful politician.

Involved into minors embezzlement , the one who takes care of their change of identity, false papers, and sell the girls at auction like vulgar antiques, to old perverts thirsty for power. You pressed the send button, not even bothering to type any text with it, they would eventually know it is a murder when the morning comes.

Sure this would create a huge hole in your dad's plans, his business would be put on hold, waiting to find someone else to change the girls names and identities, otherwise how could they send them to different places all around the world?

It was all that you needed to paralyze La Compagnie for now, so you could hunt properly.

This is it, this is the hunt.

You never claimed to be a hero, you knew killing would turn you into a villain yourself.

May god forgive them, they killed you, and you were born from your own ashes like a phoenix.

May god forgive you, you were born a villain in a world that needed a hero.

•••

He removed the last bouquet of flowers he brought, and another fresh one soon replaced the latter, much brighter, much younger. It was a routine for him that everytime he would come, a bouquet of your favorite flowers would be laid on the grave. If he could, he would do it everyday. He hated, loathed to see those flowers fading, somehow, it only exacerbated his pain and reminded him of how your body should be doing the same, six feet under. Therefore, he didn't knew it but replacing those ones were one of the few coping mechanisms he found, and if he wasn't more often busy with Bonten's business, it wouldn't bother him to do it every single day of the year.

Ran's nostrils were invaded by the scent of freshly cut grass and the freshly deposited flowers, the early winter's raindrops threatening to start pouring at anytime from the gray monotonous sky, everything around was just so depressing, he couldn't stop feeling that same emptiness he tried to fill with drinks, drugs, and many other thing he knew you would probably don't like. But you were not there anymore.

He couldn't believe that he would ever swallow the pain of missing you, just the sound of your name still strikes his heart in such a way that he couldn't breathe. And he understood four years ago that love was a bound that death could not part, gone from his arms, held in his heart, you were.

-" I always liked to call you angel " his lazy smile stretched a little more at the memory. " Never expected you to become a real one ".

It also became a routine to talk to that tombstone, Rindou used to find it stupid at first, but he saw him little by little starting to do it too, until telling you about everything, the most boring details of his life. This might have sounded weird or even out of character for what they were doing on daily basis, but when it came to you, nothing was out of character. They knew you even before they knew this delinquent life, nothing would change their rather soft nature when it comes to you.

-" I think rain's coming " he tilted his head to look at the heavy clouds above. " D'ya still hate it when It rains, even there ?".

He had to undo his necktie slightly, feeling a lump forming in his throat. It was like the words were choking him, he struggled to get them out yet he kept trying because he just couldn't bring himself to let go.

He tried, God knows Ran tried to overcome it, and he hated thinking about it but he even tried to replace you, it only made him feel even more pathetic since he never could.

Fuck, it happened four years ago, how much before he could finally wake up without an empty hole in his chest ? How much before he could finally be able to say he overcame the grief ?

He knew Rindou didn't neither, they both just cared about you so much that they were still there, visiting the grave every now and then. Talking about that one, he was standing few meters away, giving his brother some intimacy. It was weird because they both knew how much they were suffering, yet they hated talking about it or showing it, outside this cemetery at least.

It was like your name became something forbidden out of this place, a silent pact they both respected.

-" you sure would call me pathetic if you knew everytime it rains I feel nostalgic " a little laugher left his mouth, while his hand brushed his hair back. "I'm not pathetic, I just... "

Four years of him trying to put this into words, articulate this loss, and he still struggled to find the right ones. It just didn't felt right, at first, talking to this tombstone had something soothing, but now it only makes him cringe, and he would've stopped, but he wasn't ready to let go of the last thing that was left behind you.

The truth was that the pain was still there, the emptiness was still there. All your friends were done grieving, your family stopped coming to visit, or to change the flowers, and the world seemed to turn as if nothing happened. And the truth was that he hated it, the world seemed to only revolve around you when you were alive, around your smile, around the way you would curse them then fix their fight injuries as if nothing happened, how hypocritical it was that it didn't shattered when you left, that everyone except them carried on with their life.

Those memories made him close his eyes faintly, cursing under his breath because of how they were burning. He promised he would not shed another tear, yet everytime he remembered about your years together, his chest would tighten until he wanted to scream, to cry out for help or rather just die there and stop feeling anything.

-" If i could, I'd bargain with time itself to bring ya back t'me, to us" he turned slightly to look at his younger brother, who noticed him and kept his gaze as impassible as he could. " I'd do it. I'd give a piece of m'life to see ya again ".

But he could not, and he felt like the most useless man in the world. He let the world take you from them when he was supposed to protect both you and Rindou since your childhood, he promised he would, and he failed. And it was nothing compared to the failure he ever knew, this one tasted like a curse, this one would never be repaired.

-" I fucking can't. All I'd ever be able to do is to... love you... 'til my last fucking breath."

He barely believed you could hear him, he didn't believe in fairytales or anything else and knew for fact you were nothing more than old bones surrounded by worms, this habit of talking to the tombstone was mostly for him, his sanity, to keep him grounded. And it was unfortunate because he would have liked you to hear those words, the ones he had always been afraid to say to your face.

It was cruel to think that what drove him to realize his feelings was to see the earth being thrown over your coffin, if he could turn back time, he would say it, he knew he would say it until his tongue felt sore, but it was too late now, and he had to live with this heavy burden, carry it to his deathbed.

He stood up as best he could, dusting off his suit pants. Ran put his hands in his pockets and smiled faintly one last time.

-" your spirit's better not leave our side, angel. Or I'll bring it back by that cute ass of yours".

Without adding anything else, he turned his back and walked a little further away from the tombstone. He took out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket and lit it, while looking at his younger brother who was walking without a word to where he was crouching a few seconds earlier.

About Rindou, he usually preferred to sit, with his back against the tombstone. He was everytime careful to not crash the flowers his brother brought, and would lift his head to look at the sky, it was somehow better to forget about everything around.

Growing up, he had his own notion of grief, thought it was a sad time that follows the death of someone you loved and you had to push through it to get to the other side. But within these last years, he learned there was no other side, no pushing through, rather there is absorption, adjustment, and acceptance.

Rindou found out grief was not something to complete, but rather to endure. He wished it would have been a task to finish and move on, but it became little by little an element of himself, a new way of seeing, a new dimension of self.

He wasn't better than his brother in this matter, he tried by many ways to move on, to forget about it and just let you rest in peace, but this death... It exposed parts of him he should never have seen, it brought tears to his eyes he never shed before.

-" dummy" his strong voice calls, he remembered how you used to hate that nickname first, getting slowly used to it by the time. He still found it silly talking to a stone, but he saw Ran doing it, and Ran still looked like dealing with things better than himself, so he just took it from him, hoping it would help him as much as it did for his brother.

-" I saw ya again last night".

Ah, yes. There would be those cursed nights where he would dream of you, what a stereotype, yet it is logical when you think about it, sometimes when he falls asleep thinking about you, his subconscious finds nothing better to do than to torture him with memories or fantasies that never happened. Most of the time would it be those nights before he came to visit, which made sense since they would be talking about it with Ran.

He would not say he hated those dreams, or maybe he did, he could never tell. They were painful, annoying, still if it happened that you didn't wander in his sleep for too long, he would find himself grumbling about it.

In fact, he didn't hated the dreams themselves, rather hated waking up from them.

-" nothing new, you were jus' home, with us. I... I think at some point, I loved you back to life. Loved ya back t'me".

It is in these times where he would allow himself to let his guards down and take the time to acknowledge how badly scarred is his heart. When only Ran and you would be around.

His heart still suffered your loss, he woke up each morning feeling lost, and just pushed through his day, pushing those memories back in his head, and just sits between the black and white, the pain of your death and the memories of your life.

The dreams were cruel, a constant reminder that things could have been better, but will unfortunately never. And suddenly, he feels that time is moving too slowly, understanding that the whatever something he was waiting for would never happen, that he was even more lost than what he thought he was, with exhaustion seeping through his skin.

-" Then I wake up. Prolly high again, you would hate it, but let's be honest, it feels s'damn good 'cause it's like amnesia, makes me forget about all the stupid little things. "

Then he would finally come down from his high, and act like he was okay.

He learned to hide everything, to act as if he couldn't do any better. He would get through his day, do his job and laugh with his trio. He would party the whole night or feel the adrenaline of late night missions, and just pretend he didn't hated how his chest was full of hollow.

His eyes trailed to his brother's shape, from where he was standing and smoking his cigarette.

-" Ran says we'll be just fine. But I'm not fine at all." He scoffed, feeling frustration rising inside him again. It was always like this, he was always like this, he couldn't found why every emotion he struggled with was automatically assimilated to anger.

-" No I'm really not fine at all". He looked at the drop that had just wetted his wrist, and turned his gaze back to the sky. No, no it wasn't raining.

-" this has to be just another dream. You're fucking dead, why in hell what I feel for you is not ? Hm? "

There were many stages to grief, Rindou went through all of them without ever reaching the last final one, acceptance.

It all started with the denial, feeling shocked, numb and confused, avoiding to face the truth and letting himself be easily distracted by anything that could steal his attention from what was actually happening.

The one he never seemed to get over was the anger, though. It wasn't just rage and discomfort of not controlling anything, it was also the embarrassment of having done absolutely anything, the resentment. The more time passed by, the angrier he was against the world, the unknown one that did this to you, himself, and even against you.

-" Hate ya " a nervous laugh escaped his mouth, despite the burning sensation inside his chest, he kept a composed voice. " I hate ya with all the damn love I have f'ya".

Because him too, just like Ran, wished to tell you someday.

He even considered himself closer to you than what Ran was, and was fearless about confessing, making you his because he craved you all day long, but he never had the chance to, now he was only left with regrets.

-" bitch said it was jus' us three against the world, then just left it. You left-"

-" enough, ya losing your shit, Rin' ".

He gritted his teeth, frustrated that Ran cut him off, but he knew he was right, it was useless to keep letting his anger get the best of him. The truth was that he was just upset at himself for not being able to protect you, he couldn't help but wonder, what if you stayed inside that night ? What if they weren't so high and were actually able to walk you home ?

Then things would have been different, sure they would, nothing would have happened to you if he just stayed by your side.

He didn't truly blamed you, he just struggled with all the guilt and pain, with the thought that he could have made things better but would never have the chance to.

He thought Ran would find him pathetic, but against all odds he just patted his shoulder with one hand, while standing up next to Rindou's sitting form. The youngest brother refused to look up and meet his elder's eyes, they habitually never shared their thoughts and resentment about this, it was better to avoid any conversation about you, Ran managed to get a hold of himself without any help, he had to the same.

With a bitter taste in his mouth, he stood up and dusted off his pants and threw a last glance at the tombstone, holding back a cringe. Four years, still it was eerie to read your name on that stone, it just didn't look right, there were no mistake but he still couldn't comprehend what it was doing here, like it didn't belong to this place.

He welcomed the cigarette that his brother placed between his lips with a weary face and waited until he lit up this one.

" We'll be fine " he repeated, just as everytime they came here. He wasn't as naive as to think Rindou still swallowed his words, still he kept this routine more for himself than anyone else. And in exchange Rindou said nothing, accepted that Ran needed to have the upper hand and feel like he could control things, it kept him grounded to take care of him, even though he would never admit it.

Both silently walked out of the cemetery, eyeing from time to time the amount of people gathering somewhere for someone's funerals, hearing the mourners crying and sniffling. It had been a long time since crying affected them given the work they did, blood and death were their inevitable companions.

Once outside, they both climbed into Rindou's Bentley Mulsanne, Ran watched silently while this one were busy chosing the playlist, he never had a say in the matter when it came to music, and stared at his stern expression while he started the car, entering the main road and huffing in frustration at the traffic jams. The elder turned his head to the window, and tossed his cigarette before clearing his throat.

-" I think that's my last time coming here".

Silence. Ran's lavender eyes ventured toward the seat next to him, he caught the frown between his brother's brows and spoke again.

-" Enough of this shit. We should move on".

Rindou's hands gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles were pale, he couldn't believe those words came out from his mouth when he was the very one to insist on visiting so often.

" We should move on" he hated how he told it with such an ease, he never knew the words left his brother's mouth bitter.

If things were as easy as he made it sound, they wouldn't feel like this even after years, if moving on was an option, they would have. Yet it still haunted them like a nightmare, the biggest loss they experienced, did he really thought that stop visiting the graveyard would help with it?

-" easier said than done" Rindou scoffed, keeping his eyes on the road as he felt his brother's on him.

-" never said it was easy. But we can't keep being wrecks, this shit got the best of us, and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want this for us. "

Though he was rather a stoic one, he didn't missed his micro reactions as the twitch of his eyebrows or his puffed chest.

And though he would never admit it, but Rindou was hurting, Ran's words felt like being stabbed in the back, from his closest one moreover.

He had his eyes narrowed on the road, mind in confusion. It was the first time he felt betrayal, and experienced the loneliness that came with it. Thinking that Ran might start moving on without him made him anxious and extremely frustrated, he didn't want to let go, he could never, but he also could never watch his brother overcoming the thing and be the only one left behind.

-" You have no idea what she would've wanted" he said through gritted teeth, the elder rolled his eyes, annoyed by the way Rindou always thought he was the only one suffering.

No one knew what took place behind closed doors, what Ran Haitani was behind his smiling mask, cognac glasses and random girls, ones that never seemed to be enough to fill the holes inside. He managed to hide it well during the day, but whether was he in an empty bed at night or sleeping with someone, your memory never left him, your face never faded. He had enough of his brother behaving as if your death impacted him the most.

-" why not ? She was my fucking person too, y'know it" He ran his hand on his hair, sighing from frustration and taking his eyes from his brother's shape who was still focused on the road. " I'd rather take a bullet to not feel this, she left us and took all the world with her, right ? That's how you feel, and I know it cause that's how I do too".

-" Don't... " He started, glaring at him, bulging veins on his forehead.

-" Feels like being flayed alive. Like you would rip up the whole world for daring to keep going without her, right ?" He insisted, watching Rin's ears reddening with anger. " Like she wasn't everything -"

-" and you wanna do the same !" His voice rose several octaves, he could feel his blood flowing faster from the outrage. Those words made no sense to him, Ran was just being hypocritical. He was talking about suffering from your absence and yet admitted that he wanted to move on. He was angry at the world for forgetting but he wanted to do the same, it was selfish but he hoped with all his heart that he would not succeed.

-" I never said I wanted to forget, I could not even if i wanted to " he scoffed bitterly, ignoring the way Rindou rolled his eyes. " But I can't pretend this is fine anymore. It's unhealthy, and miserable. Keep coming here won't bring her back."

If Rindou's throat tightened with a knot, Ran's one was burning like hell. Saying this out loud was a slap for both of them, though it was something obvious still letting go was a foreign fight that seemed scary, even the elder who was willing to still was reluctant toward it.

-" You said you'd never lemme down " he hid his helplessness by his cold demeanor and by avoiding his gaze, through his frustrated state, and even through the walls he built around his heart for so long, Ran still felt his chest tightening because of those words. him too, looked away and avoided to stare at him while answering.

-" Did I ever ?" He watched his reflexion through the half opened window, noticing his frown. " It's still us three against the world. I'd never quit hunting down the one who did this to our princess, we walked down this path for this after all".

He caught Rindou clenching his jaw just like everytime they would talk about that one man who stole everything from them, the only one who dared approaching what was theirs.

And he couldn't blame him, he has been in the same state though his rage was colder than his brother's one. Ran was more like an ocean that never settles, the calm before the storm and Rindou was the rage living within its center, his anger was eating him alive while the elder found a way to silence it and postpone it until that day, the one they would finally understand what happened.

-" What is it that the crackhead wants anyway?" Rindou ended up switching the subject, tired of the current one.

-" Said Mikey needed everyone, don't know no more " he shrugged, his brother hummed in silence and he took a turn that led them a few minutes later to the Bonten headquarters.

After parking the car, they entered the skyscraper and took the elevator to the second-to-last floor, to the meeting room. The soothing silence of the elevator was quickly replaced by the usual hubbub as they entered and saw their colleagues already seated around the large meeting table.

-" We almost waited " Takeomi grumbled from where he was sitting on a chair at the left side of the table, next to Kakucho.

-" You should know I don't give a fuck about that " Ran answered while getting to his usual seat next to Sanzu on the right side, just between him and Rindou who followed him silently.

As for the end of the table, it was occupied by Sano Manjiro who had his eyes glued to something on his laptop, ignoring his executive's conversations.

To Takeomi's left and in front of Rindou was sitting Mochizuki, and Koko was also working on his laptop at the other end of the table, sitting on the opposite of his boss.

-" Y'only do give a fuck when it comes to dead people anyway" Sanzu's words made almost everyone in the room go stiff, even their boss shifted his eyes from whatever he was working on to look at them. Him as well as everyone around knew how much of a faux pas it was to talk about it, Sanzu was a bastard to bring it up and by the way Ran's usual smile faltered and his eyes darkened and narrowed, everyone could easily say how mad he was.

-" Watch your fucking mouth" his tone was all but hostile, low and dangerous, Haruchiyo flashed a provoking smile and tilted his head to the side, earning death glares from both the brothers.

-" chill, I'm just saying this as Bonten's number two. It's inappropriate to make the boss wait for some dead chick ".

-" Still better than anyone alive" Rindou's firm voice cut like a knife, preventing his brother from going any further with Bonten's number two. He deserved anything that Ran would do to him, but not when Mikey was there, who knows how he would react and Ran's anger was more frightening than his brother's one, he had to admit.

-" in the meantime you're the one wasting our time Is you" Kakucho cleared his throat and replied to Sanzu who just rolled his eyes dramatically. " We didn't bring all of you here for that".

-" What is it about ?" Ran asked while his brother leaned against his seat, eyes venturing between Kokonoi and Manjiro who lifted both their eyes from their laptops.

-" This." Mikey's authoritative tone shut everyone down, he turned his computer so it faced everyone around the table and played the video on the screen, a journalist started talking right after in what it seemed like a crowded neighborhood, Rindou's eyes widened slightly when he recognized the place.

- " This morning the lifeless body of the famous entrepreneur Kaito Abe was found in his own house at around seven o'clock in the morning by his wife returning from a trip. Do you have any suspects Sergeant Kiba? "

The dark haired woman offered her microphone to the man with a police uniform, that one adjusted his hat before clearing his throat.

-" we still know nothing about the one who did this, Alaya. The primary investigation revealed nothing unusual, no signs of forced entry, the alarm was still active and the neighbors reported nothing suspicious. "

-" But we can tell for sure the one who did this is in fact the same one who killed mister Masashi Ogawa, isn't it ?"

-" We have no evidence to link the two crimes. "

-" what about both the videos my department received ?" Alaya asked, talking about the recordings her newspaper rushed to spread everywhere. " Both men appeared in a compromising situation with underage girls, did you start investigating about that ? Why haven't we heard anything from the girl that was found in mister Ogawa's room ? "

-" please excuse me, I am not allowed to talk about these cases "

-" Mister Kiba do you think the one who did this is trying to tell us something ? Mister Kiba ?"

But the sergeant was already leaving the camera's view, cutting through the crowd of journalists and civilians gathered in front of Kaito Abe's house.

-" it happened in our territory " concluded Rindou when the video stopped playing.

-" It is not a coincidence that two men of La Compagnie found themselves killed and exposed within such a short amount of time " added Ran, earning a significant glance from his brother to which he understood the meaning.

They learned about La Compagnie's existence only two years ago through their spy inside Hiroto Mori's political party, and if they had to be honest, the only thing they were satisfied about was that you never got to know your father's whereabouts. During your teenage years together, they always suspected your father to be more than just a politician, but it was only after the incident that they noticed how suspicious his acts were and started doubting his motivation to find his daughter's murderer.

It gave them a purpose for this dance of life, a purpose for this anger within , for the demons bleeding through their body and into their minds. They would have died to just torture Hiroto Mori's pathetic body slowly until they got the truth out of him, but they were only teenagers back then and needed someone greater behind them. One thing led to another, and they found themselves Bonten members, in exchange Sano Manjiro managed to turn one of his men into an informer inside that political system, and they ended up learning about the underground human trafficking organization your father created along with nine other influential men, well, seven now, since two of them were six feet under.

La compagnie has grown within the last years, extended to many other countries and established links all around the world. Their main goal was trapping young naive girls or kidnapping young tourists, changing their identities and creating fake identifications then selling them all around the world during auctions, or as for the one's who weren't bought by foreign men, forced to prostitution inside Hiroto Mori's gigantic Hotel.

Though Bonten was also implied in illegal activities such as prostitution, drug dealing and organized crime, they only hired consenting prostitutes and above anything else, of age, adult and legally responsible for their actions. They all loathed La compagnie, not only for this but also for competing with their business, on the other hand the brothers knew your heart would have shattered if you knew about it, you never really were close to your father still you had a strong sense of morality, things would have gone bad if you ever learned that.

For their great misfortune, they never seemed to reach the truth about you, or about what your father knew about that night. He accepted the totally improbable and non-credible suspect that the police arrested and did not inquire after that, which led them to suspect that he knew much more than he was saying.

-" I don't understand, why are we interested on this ?"

-" 'Cause it happened in our territory, Mochi. When two influential men get killed in an area dominated by our gang and we know nothing about, we can't just ignore it" replied a frustrated Kokonoi, rubbing his temple to soothe his headache. As if they weren't already busy enough with the decrease in their prostitution incomes, since apparently La compagnie stole most of the clients with their underage girls, they also had to deal with a new potential threat. He knew even more exhausting days were yet to come, and he had to figure out a way to catch up with the loss in incomes.

-" Isn't it something we should be happy about ?" Takeomi grunt. " Those assholes are in the way of our business".

-" for now, he seems to be only after La Compagnie's guys. But who says it's not some vigilante who wants to clean up the city ? Who says we're safe from any attempt ?" Kakucho argued with the man next to him who was busy lighting up his cigarette. The raven haired man growled when Sanzu leaned over the table to speak.

-" far be it from me to question your words, Boss" he started, earning a frown from the so-called Mikey. " But I don't think whoever did this could be a threat for us."

-" Those politicians are pretty average when it comes to fights " Ran agreed, rolling up his shirtsleeves. " There's no point in comparing or worrying".

After that, all eyes were on their boss sitting at the end of the table. The latter leaned back against his seat and intertwined his fingers, placing them against his chest, and looked back at his computer.

-" This, is not an angry murder" he acknowledged with austere tone. " This is pure malice. Have you learned nothing from me ? "

They all shut up. Looking at the blond man turning the computer towards them, two different images where represented the respective bodies of Masashi Ogawa and Kaito Abe, both stripped, bearing strangulation marks around the neck.

-" the execution-style-murder. The one who did this knew what he was doing".

-" leaving no trace each time " Kokonoi picked up. " Without being spotted either before or after".

At those words, Rindou leaned over the table and with the permission of his boss grabbed the laptop and started scrolling through the newspaper article, frowning a little more at every line he read.

-" they're goddamn right to be worried. Ogawa was killed inside his own crowded club, Abe inside his own house with both his children sleeping in their bedroom. And each time, no clue has been found, nothing."

-" the perfect crime." Concluded Kakucho, raising his eyebrows toward the others as a way to say " I told you so ".

Both Ran and Sanzu glanced at each other, while the others still proceeded the words. Well, maybe they were wrong to underestimate this murderer, his modus operandi was not violent, rather controlled and well calculated. The killer was not afraid of being caught in the act either, committing murders in such crowded places was not the work of any delinquent.

Each time, he exposed the truth of the men he killed to the entire world, and it happened to be influential man. It clearly was an act of rebellion.

-" That is mainly why I think we're dealing with a vigilante" the boss added as the others nodded in understanding.

-" is this why you wanted us here, boss ? " Ran questioned. " You want us to find the one who did this ?"

-" Let's say we did, are we gonna kill him ?"

Manjiro took the time to think about his subordinate's question. On the one hand, having a Zorro in their territory could be problematic, especially if he decided to meddle in their affairs, but on the other hand, this purge that he seemed to be leading against the members of Hiroto Mori's secret organization was working in their favor, eliminating their direct competitors without them having to do the dirty work. They sure could have dealt with La Compagnie for overshadowing their business but those ones had the whole Tokyo's police in their pocket, so many important people were involved into this and it would be a pain in the ass thing to deal with, even for Bonten.

He took another minute to ponder whether it would be wise to get involved into this vigilante's business, his dark eyes ventured toward Hajime who straightened his back as soon as his boss looked at him.

-" Koko, remind me what both their roles were within the organization."

Kokonoi cleared his throat " the first victim, Masashi Ogawa was the one in charge of the auctions and giving the girls fake ID. As for the second one, Abe manages a car and truck assembly line. His vehicles were used to transport the "merchandise" discreetly to the ports and ships where the auctions were held. "

-" not the top guys, still pretty useful ".

-" I don't get it" the elder of the Haitani's slapped his hands on the table, leaning over and earning everyone's attention. " If that vigilante wanted to ruin La Compagnie, why not attacking the leader ?"

-" guess it's not that easy to approach a man of such consequence " Sanzu shrugged, Ran hummed at his answer but they were all cut off by Rindou's edgy tone.

-" Fuck no, you don't get it, none of you. " He pushed the laptop back toward his boss and removed his gloves under everyone's curious eyes. " They are freezing La Compagnie. If they can't sell the girls worldwide anymore because of the lack of transport and fake IDs, their sales figures would drop considerably" he explained.

-" On the other hand, if they killed Hiroto" concluded Mikey, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

-" His vice president would take over as if nothing happened" the youngest Haitani completed, things started getting clearer now for them. " Whoever is doing this is making sure La Compagnie would never rise again, that's fucking genius".

Silence fell on the room while they were all busy thinking about the words exchanged. The youngest Haitani was probably right, if he was not the strongest of the siblings, he was undoubtedly the most intelligent and calculating, he might even be the brain of Bonten after Koko of course. He was a logical thinker, and what he was saying actually made sense for everyone there, making them nod in understanding and making his boss raising his eyebrows and opening his mouth to talk.

-" In that case, I want you to find out who hides behind this shit".

All the executives turned their heads towards their boss, surprised by his decision, waiting for him to elaborate.

-" shall we get rid of the vigilante?" Sanzu was ready to start investigating for the identity of the latter, to launch a real manhunt if that was his king's will.

-" No. Not for now " the Sano's dry tone brought him out of his thoughts. "

-" The enemy of my enemy is my friend " Kokonoi stated in front of the executives questioning looks.

-" that's right. What he's doing now is unwillingly serving Bonten's pockets, let's just keep an eye on that man and see what his next move will be".

-" How are we even supposed to find him ? He's like a ghost " Ran grunt to which all of the men there agreed.

They all watched as their boss stood up from his seat, absolutely careless about their reluctance and started heading toward the door, quickly followed by Kokonoi and Kakucho.

-" I don't care how you do this. Hunt him down, turn the whole fucking town upside down, look for him in every single house and every shit hole if needed".

They were listening to their boss's orders without reluctance now, aware that a seething Manjiro Sano was the last thing they wanted to deal with.

-" I want his name on my desk by the end of the week".

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