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familyvideostevie · 4 months

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a kind of hunger | chapter 2

joel miller x fem!reader

series masterlist

an offer from your employer sets your life on track and throws it into a new kind of chaos at the same time. where does joel miller fit into it all?

length: 5.9k

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, heavy petting, joel having a moment with r's tits, hand stuff, dirty talk, painful sex for a second, riding (p in v sex), like a really small smidge of breeding kink, emotional turmoil from r cause what else is she gonna do, some plot! wow! a/n: finally! another chapter. it’s short but i think we’re getting somewhere. Let me know what you think! huge thank you to @macfrog for your eyes and for keeping my sanity in check and @bageldaddy for teaching me how to use commas, letting me borrow your bar, and telling me to just “slutty hallmark it.” this is for you guys.

navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

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Bill’s offer costs you one night of sleep and that’s all.

Taking over the bar goes against every rule you've had for yourself up until now, everything that’s kept you going and on your feet.

You lose when you stick around. You get hurt when you get attached. Always keep moving.

But your night with Joel seems to have shaken something loose. You’ve got a pit in your stomach, a hunger set alight by his eyes and his hands and his attention. It’s like he reminded you how to want, how to stop letting the world turn under your feet and dig in your heels instead.

And there’s what Bill said, the thing that won't leave you alone. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice.

It’s easy to lie to yourself about a lot of things: that you don’t mind this life, its constant movement and instability. That it’s made you crafty. That if you picked up and left right now, you’d be fine. No one would miss you, no one would notice. The names and faces you’ve learned would fade as soon as you found new ones somewhere else.

You’ve been a tight fist your whole life, only hanging onto what can fit into your rough and weathered palm, half-moon crescents bleeding that damn desperate hope you can never seem to scrub off. It means a whole lot of avoiding things that could matter so you can’t lose them, can’t let them slip through your fingers. A family who saw your need for space and control and turned it into isolation and disinterest, who drove you away as soon as you were able to leave. College was a bust. Relationships gone sour have taught you not to rely on anyone. Failed experiment after failed experiment, just looking for something to stick. It’s better to be alone, right?

That tight fist keeps anyone out, anyway. It’s carefully rolled bills in plastic bags in the toe of a pair of sneakers just in case. It’s talking just enough to get you a place to stay, a job, a ride, but not enough that anyone remembers your face, even if you wish they would.

It’s not one big thing. It’s a million small ones. And nothing ever lasts. You never last; always cutting and running before it can get real, before they can see the truth of you and find it lacking.

You’ve been looking for the missing piece for years now, the thing that will make you feel like you’ve finally made it somewhere where you’re needed enough to stick around. Where you can stop quitting, where you can put down roots. Where you can be wanted.

You just aren’t sure it’s possible. You’ve done so many things, seen so much, that you feel like it’s too late to be anything other than this.

It’s easy to believe all of that until someone like Joel sees through it – until someone like Bill tells you none of it is true.

Fuck it.

You call Bill the next morning and tell him you'll take over Frank's.

According to him, the turnaround will be quick. He'll have someone "official" draw up the paperwork. You tell him you won't change the name. You tell him you will make some repairs, fix the cracked vinyl booths, and give the floors a refinish, and –

"Do whatever the fuck you want," he grumbles over the phone. "It's your bar."

It sure is.

You own something, now. You belong somewhere – even if it’s just because you have payslips to sign and counters to clean. But maybe this time, if you try hard enough, you can get it right.

You have a meeting to tell the staff that you’re taking over. There are only five of you – two college kids from a town over, the guy who works part-time at the garage by the highway, and an old butch called Pat you find vaguely frightening who’s been working here longer than you care to ask.

It’s probably the first time all five of you have been in the same room. None of them seem disappointed in Bill’s retirement, and they’re on board with your plan for renovations. Especially after you assure them they’ll be paid even if you close for a bit to get it all done.

Joel doesn't come in. You notice, but don’t spare it too much thought. You can’t because the bar is a fucking nightmare all week.

The keg lines keep blocking, the jukebox dies a sudden staticky death, and some asshole scratches the pool table hard enough to tear up the felt. Everyone and everything is pissing you off. It’s an effort not to spend all of your breaks on that milk crate in the alley with your head in your hands.

It feels like Frank’s is hazing you. After all you’ve done for it, you feel a little betrayed.

“Why the hell do you think I’m retiring?” Bill says when you call to bitch about it. “This shit is a fuck ton of work.”

By Friday, you're at your wit's end.

The rush has come and gone, and now it’s slow. Slow enough that you might be worried, but Pat has told you before that this is just how it is in small towns, sometimes.

That, or maybe your bad mood scared everyone off. Maybe they're tired of the shitty atmosphere, of the cloudy glasses and squeaking stools, maybe they –

You pop an olive into your mouth.

“Chill the fuck out,” you mutter to yourself. No one is around to hear.

The only patrons left are some bikers at one of the back tables playing cards. Their laughter is too loud without the music going. The mats behind the bar are sticky under your boots, and your temple has started to throb. You feel like locking yourself in the office just for the silence.

The air shifts when Joel steps inside.

The hunger you feel is a familiar fire, coals that stoke themselves and never go out. Lust, infatuation as you take in his broad shoulders and grey-streaked hair. You’re strung out and a fuck might help.

But there’s also a weight in your chest at the sight of him, one you haven’t felt in a while. It sits heavy above that smoldering flame in your belly, a bruise you can’t stop yourself from pressing on.

Maybe part of you expected him to stop coming in after you fucked. Regardless of how it made you feel, you’re just some woman who serves him two fingers of liquor when he wants to run away from his life. Just someone who gave him one good night and nothing more.

But this weight – this big, thorny emotion that looks like affection and attachment and something real – you don’t know what to do with it.

It’s never been this way with a one-night stand. Yeah, you know the weight of him above you, inside you. You know the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his head between your thighs. That kind of shit usually doesn’t change anything with you, but Joel is…different.

Careful, that voice inside you says.

Joel peels off his jacket and tosses it on the otherwise empty bar, pushing up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. The stool creaks under him and his gaze is heated as it travels over you. He doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s looking.

He shakes his head when you hold up the bottle of whiskey.

"Water's fine," he says.

You blink. If he’s not here to drink then what is he here for?

He seems like he always does. Relaxed, like the room was made to have him in it. But you look a little closer, now that you figure you can. The deep scar on the bridge of his nose stands out and his cheeks are a little pink. The temperature must have dropped once the sun went down. His jaw isn’t tense so much as set, determined. He rubs his chin with a flat palm as you fill a glass using the soda gun.

“Whatever you want,” you say.

He looks around the bar. You figure he's taking in the out-of-order signs on the beer pulls, the flickering light pointing to the restroom, maybe even the goddamn ruined pool table.

You pick up a rag and start to clean to keep your hands busy.

“Quiet for a Friday,” he says. "Things goin’ alright?”

You bristle at the implication. It’s been a shitty week, and you don’t need anyone reminding you that you’re probably not cut out for this.

“Fucking peachy,” you snap.

Joel raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t rise to it. "Seems like things are a little tense.”

You swallow a flash of genuine annoyance.

"All it takes is a roll in the sack and now you're a talker?"

Joel isn't phased. He takes a small sip of his drink, rolls the glass between his hands. Nice hands, you think. Hands that felt so good between your --

"Just makin’ conversation," he says lightly.

You’ve always thought you were hard to read – hell, you’ve been told that many times. One of your flaws, people always say, but it makes it easier to slide in and out of places without too much damage. And yet, Joel, a man who has been in your bed once and sits at your bar when it suits him, sees right through you.

Your shoulders slump.

“I’m just tired,” you tell him.

Joel rubs his beard with one wide palm. He moves his jaw back and forth like he's giving you the chance to shut him down, like he’s chewing on the silence.

"Heard somethin'," he says. "Wondered if it was true. Thought I'd ask."

"Are you asking?"

He eyes you, takes another sip of his water like it's a tumbler of amber liquid instead. Like anything you pour him is something to be savored.

"Guess so."

You set the glass down and put your hands on the wood, leaning towards him with your head cocked.

“Are you keeping tabs on me, Joel Miller?”

“Nah,” he says, eyes flashing before they slide down to your lips. “Ran into Frank in the frozen aisle at the store.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. "Known him and Bill a long time."

That explains why he looks like he belongs here. He's probably been in this room more times than you have. All of the things you don't know about Joel hang in the air between you.

"Does Bill...?"

Does your buddy know you fucked me in the apartment I rent from him?

Joel shakes his head. "Frank told me Bill was giving the place to one of his employees. Figured it was you."

And that’s that. But it sounds like a compliment.

“Well, it’s me alright,” you sigh, slumping a bit. “And there's a lot of shit to do.”

Joel puts a hand on your forearm. It's a light touch, a quick one, but it sends sparks along your skin. A moth to a flame.

“Ain’t no small thing. Ownin’ a bar. Big deal, if you ask me.”

You roll your eyes but pride swells in your chest. He’s right. It is a big deal.

And here you are in your bar.

With Joel, who fits into all of this somehow. You just don’t know where yet.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you,” you say with a smirk.

You want to draw it out of him, make him flirt with you for the answers he seems to want. You want something to sink your teeth into after this week, something to play with.

Something to make you feel in control. And that’s what Joel gave you, last time you saw him. He pushed when you pulled, met your touches and your quips with attitude and hands of his own. You felt alive, you felt present. You felt wanted. And it was fun.

If you’re not careful, you might forget what sex was like without that – his attention, his touch. Your name in his mouth. But now that you’re giving staying here a shot, maybe it’s time to indulge. To reach out and take.

Joel snorts. He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Should we toast to it?”

You laugh. “I don’t drink on the job.”

He raises his water glass.

“Alright,” you scoff. “Fine.”

You pour yourself some water and clink your glasses together. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, not when he takes a long sip, not when he sets the glass down. He keeps looking at you with that heavy, unshakable gaze.

It’s unnerving, the way he makes you feel. You’re still tired, still annoyed, but there's electricity at the base of your spine, the embers in your belly. You want to talk to him.

You clench your hands around your glass. You want to touch him, too.

“So,” you say. He’s wearing a henley this time, the buttons at the top undone just enough to give you a glimpse of a peak of chest hair. You swallow and flick your eyes back to his. He’s smirking.

“So,” Joel echoes. “Why’d you take it? The bar.”

You shrug. “Seemed like a good deal.”

“Bill ain’t in the habit of good deals,” he huffs. “He must like you.”

It’s an effort to squash your smile. “I don’t think Bill likes anyone much.”

“Real asshole, ain’t he?”

That gets a laugh out of you. “Well, he’s your friend.”

“Not much choice in a small town.”

You hum.

The noisy group from the back stumble their way to the door, waving at you as they file out into the night.

“Those idiots ruined my pool table on Tuesday,” you hiss, though you smile at them.

“Gotta be pretty fuckin’ bad at pool to do that.” He looks around and realizes he’s the last one in the bar. “You closin’?”

“It’s only eleven, Joel.”

His eyes rake up and down your body. Is he thinking about how he touched you, how you fell apart under him? Heat curls lazily in your belly. He runs his finger around the rim of his glass.

“Damn shame,” he says.

Normally you wouldn’t shut for a few hours, but it’s pretty dead for a Friday and…

And Joel is looking at you like that and you want to touch him.

You don’t mess around with regulars.

You’re already breaking your rules by taking over Frank’s. What’s one more?

The pulse between your legs agrees with you.

“Colin,” you call over your shoulder, stepping back from Joel’s hot gaze. The barback appears immediately.

“Yeah?”

“I’m shutting early. Go home. Tonight’s tips are yours.”

He sputters. “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to the stacks of glasses behind the bar, the tables that still need wiping down.

“I’ll take care of it. See you next week.”

He just shrugs and turns on his heel. A minute later the back door slams and you know the kid is gone.

You lift the bridge and slide out from behind the bar. Your boots are loud on the shitty floors with no one in here and each step to the door feels longer than it should because of his damn stare. You feel Joel’s eyes on you as you lock the door and flick off the neon BAR sign that hangs outside.

When you turn around, his eyes are dark.

Joel stays on his stool, one foot on the ground so that his knees are spread wide, watching you. One hand rests on his thigh, thick fingers tapping to a tune only he hears. His other arm is on the wood of the bar, stretching his shirt across his broad chest.

When Joel looks at you, sometimes it feels like he’s the first person to ever see you.

“Gotta settle up,” he drawls.

“What, you gonna tip me for water?”

“Not exactly,” he says, words dragging in his mouth. “Got somethin’ else in mind.”

The air in the bar sparks and crackles like one of those long Texas summer days when a thunderstorm looms like a threat. The electricity of it crackles down your spine, turns it molten, turns you dangerous. It’s never felt like this before with someone you’ve slept with. Just being close to him is enough to kick your pulse into gear. You feel hyper aware of every part of your body as he looks at you like you’re offering him something better than what you can pour.

Which, you guess, you are.

“And what would that be?”

He hums.

“C’mere.”

You can see his cock straining against the front of his jeans.

“Bossy,” you say. “That for me?” You jerk your chin towards his lap and take your time walking back to him.

He smirks. “You wanna go upstairs?”

As soon as you step between his knees, the hand on his leg moves to your hip. Two fingers sneak under the waistband of your jeans to find bare skin. You brace yourself with one palm on his thigh, another on his neck, and thread his soft hair through your fingers.

“I don’t see why we have to,” you say slowly, watching him carefully. “No one’s here. And I know the owner. She won’t mind.”

The hand on your hip slides further back and his fingers press hard into the swell of your ass.

“Oh, that right?” he chuckles. “Well, as long as we ain’t breakin’ any rules.”

You’re not sure who moves first. You’ve got a few inches on him by being on your feet so you pull him towards you just as he surges up and your mouths meet sloppily, hungrily. Joel tugs you closer and you dig your fingers into his thigh as he swallows your giddy laugh, his beard scratching your skin deliciously.

You’re going to fuck him. In your bar.

“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, lips trailing over your jaw. He’s got both hands on you now, one on your ass and the other on your hip, holding you like he expects you to disappear.

“No, not really–” You cut yourself off with a gasp when he nips your pulse point. “Joel.”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You remember the sounds he made in your apartment and tug on his hair. Joel’s moan is your reward. You press close and grind your hips against the hardness in his jeans and he growls.

“Hard as a rock the second I step in this damn place,” he says, holding you there. You pull back to see his lips spit-slick, his pupils blown. Seeing him undone like this by your touch is just as thrilling as it was last time. His teeth scrape down your neck and he unbuttons your jeans.

“Sounds like a – ah – you problem.”

Joel’s fingers drag through the curls above your cunt before he goes where you really want him. You gasp against his temple when he circles your clit.

“Seems to me I’m not the only one,” he rasps.

The fingertips on his thigh become nails digging in even harder when he slips one finger inside you.

“Gonna leave bruises, sweetheart,” Joel says. Your cunt clenches around him. “You like that? Markin’ me?”

“Maybe I do,” you groan. “You left some last time.”

The angle can’t be ideal but Joel fucks you as best as he can with one finger, then two. You drag his face back to yours and suck on his bottom lip, tugging his hair all the while. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire, like you’re burning up from the inside.

His other hand rucks up your shirt until you tug it all the way off. He pulls down the cup of your bra with one hand and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

You could come like this, Joel’s hands everywhere.

Gripping him through his clothes isn’t enough. You scramble to undo his belt and get your hand in his jeans, button popped and fly down.

He grunts your name when you spit into your palm and take him in hand, velvety soft and tip leaking.

“Careful,” he hisses. “Don’t want to stop this before it starts.”

“I’ll be gentle,” you say. He thumbs your clit in response and you gasp.

Time blurs with his fingers inside you. Your strokes are lazy but he hisses each time you drag your thumb over his tip. Is it going to be this, you two pawing at each other against the bar until someone bursts?

“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I want –”

He finally returns to your clit with a strained smirk. The veins in his neck are visible, telling you it’s getting to him, too.

“You remember what I said last time?”

Ask for what you want, you hear me? You ask and I'll do my damn best.

You could have him bend you over the bar. You imagine it, quick and dirty, the wood digging into your waist as he slams into you, flesh on flesh. It would be better than last time, you know it. But you want to see him.

You want Joel’s face in your neck, your hands in his hair as he fills you up. You want to watch him fall apart under you.

You dig your nails into him again and he hisses. You lean forward so your lips drag along the shell of his ear.

“I want to ride you, Joel,” you say.

His eyes flash. He kisses you hard, swirls your clit one more time, and pulls his hand from your cunt. Your knees feel a little weak so you keep your hands on his shoulders.

Joel brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.

“Gotta get at least a taste,” he says. “Just as sweet as I remember.” You surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he groans into your mouth.

“Alright, baby,” he says, breath a little ragged. He thumbs your nipple again. “Where’re you gonna ride me?”

“Booth,” you manage. “Over there.” You jerk your head back towards the cracked vinyl seats he’s never once sat in since you met him. He pats your hips and you step back. The stool scrapes loudly on the floor as he stands.

He cups your cheek with one callused palm and just looks. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses. And yet he’s looking at you like you’re the answer to all his problems.

“So damn pretty,” he says.

Somehow you make it to the booth, a tangle of lips and hands, shedding pieces of clothing as you go. Your bra, his shirt, his belt. Shoes toed off and left in a pile, Joel shoves the table between the vinyl benches to the other side so there’s enough room for him to sit, for him to drag down his jeans and boxers and take his cock in one hand.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it. God, he’s thicker than you remember. One of these days you’re going to take him apart with your tongue.

You could just stand there and admire him but you’re so wet you think you’re going to drip onto the floor. His solid thighs, the dark hair gathered into curls at the base of him trailing up to his navel. If you were a painter you’d put him to a canvas.

Joel spreads his legs wide, and you run a hand down his bare chest before balancing on his shoulder as you step out of your bottoms. It’s almost funny – the two of you naked but for your socks, Joel’s pants around his ankles.

You want him too badly to spare a thought for laughter.

A condom comes from somewhere – his wallet, maybe, or his pocket, you don’t much care – and he slides it on with a hiss.

It’s different than last time. More desperate but in a fun way – and you know this won’t be the last time. You know each other’s bodies, now, and this can be quick, can be dirty, because you’ll be doing it again.

So you don’t waste any time straddling him. Joel lines his cock up with your entrance, his other hand on your hip.

“You ready?” he asks. You lean in to kiss him and sink down at the same time in response.

You moan in tandem as he fills you, the angle different from when you were on your back, so different. The stretch is deeper, and somehow you feel fuller than last time. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-consuming, it’s a little painful.

“Fuck,” Joel groans. “So tight. I ain’t gonna last long.”

It really is a tight fit, so tight you think maybe he was right to ask if you could take him without at least one orgasm to prepare you. The girth of him is splitting you in half, stretching you so much you whimper against his mouth.

Joel’s hands cup your face. “Y’okay?” he says, strained. “Hey, talk to me.”

Your eyes are shut tight, knees pressing hard into his solid thighs as you breathe.

“Need a sec,” you say. “It’s different like this, it’s –”

“I know, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Doin’ so good so far.”

He shifts his hold on you just a little and you whine. The vinyl cracks underneath his shifted weight as he whispers an apology into your shoulder.

The pain of the stretch dulls to an ache and you know what’s just on the other side. You roll your hips and the head of his cock presses exactly where you want it. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through you so intense that you fall forward a little, Joel’s face pressed to your chest.

He presses a kiss to your breastbone, so light you almost miss it as you start to ride him in earnest. Your knees press into the rough vinyl and Joel’s lips find your nipple.

“Didn’t give these ‘nough attention last time,” he says. “My mistake.”

His tongue laves at your breasts, one after the other as you swirl your hips over and over. You tug on his hair as your thighs start to burn but you keep going.

Joel’s teeth scrape against your nipples, the skin of your chest as he nips and soothes, nips and soothes. You’re going to be covered in marks tomorrow.

Maybe it’s the thrill of that, of just seeing him again, maybe it’s how bad you want him, who fucking knows – you’re already so close.

Everything fades away but this. Joel is everywhere, on you, around you, inside you…It’s just the two of you, limbs tangled and sweaty, panting each other’s name.

The smoldering in your belly is a fire climbing higher and higher and you’re going to explode with the heat of it.

Firm, rough-skinned hands hold you steady as you lift and sink, gasping every time he hits that spot inside you.

“Joel, I –”

His grip turns bruising as he starts to fuck you on his own, the wet smack of his balls filling the bar.

“I know, baby,” he pants. “I know. You hear that? You hear me fuckin’ you? You’re takin’ my cock so good.”

You plant your hands on his shoulders and try to meet his thrusts.

“Swear I dreamed ‘bout this,” he growls. “How wet you were. Those fuckin’ noises you make when I –” He circles your clit with his thumb and you keen. “There we go. Just like that.”

“Joel –

“Gonna ruin this booth,” he says with a rough chuckle. His forehead is tacky when you press yours against it.

“I – fuck – need new ones anyway, don’t I?”

Joel grins, all teeth as he pounds into you.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, breath hot on your lips. “Soak my cock. Know you can, so tight and –”

Your orgasm rips through you, a broken litany of Joel and yes and god knows what else torn from your throat as he fucks you through it. His thrusts become erratic and you try to keep your seat as he finishes with a deep groan.

Joel presses more of those light kisses to your collarbones, the base of your throat, so like the one he left on the back of your hand that first night. You drag your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.

“I’ll move in a second,” you say, catching your breath.

“Take your time,” he says. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

His grip on you is practically gentle, fingers lazily stroking patterns into your skin. You drag a hand up and down his chest.

It’s tender. It’s…something it maybe shouldn’t be. Something that doesn’t belong in whatever you’re doing.

You get out of his lap as carefully as you can and stand in front of him, naked. Fucking with a condom is smart and all, but you wonder what it would feel like to have him dripping between your thighs.

He doesn’t hide his stare, though it’s not as charged as before. He’s looking just to look.

“Put your pants on,” you grumble at him. He laughs.

You scoop your clothes off the floor and head for the bathroom. The tarnished mirror displays your sated smile and bright eyes. You run a hand over the bruises he left on your neck, your hips. Well-fucked is a good look on you. You look exhausted but happy.

Joel is dressed and back at the tabletop when you return. He’s got his usual bottle of whiskey on the wood, two glasses already sporting a pour each.

“Not workin’ anymore, are you?” he asks you.

You laugh. “No.”

The soreness starts to settle into your thighs when you take the stool next to him.

The momentary silence isn’t uncomfortable. It is comfortable, which is the strange part. Sitting here with him at your bar after he fucked you a few feet away and sipping at your drinks.

Joel, for his part, seems unbothered. You can’t figure him out. It makes you feel a little unsteady to know that he sees right through you, but you don’t know what he’s thinking. Would he tell you if you asked?

“So,” he says. “What’re your plans for the place?”

You sigh. A piece of his hair is sticking up and you tuck your hand between your thighs so you don’t smooth it. It’s different with your clothes on.

“There’s a lot to do,” you tell him. “Jukebox is broken. Neon signs need replacing. Plumbing could do with a refresh. I want to refinish the floors, maybe tear off this ugly wallpaper –”

“Make sure you get a good gel for that,” he says. “Shit’s old and won’t come off easy.”

You lean your chin in your hand and shoot him an amused look.

“Do a lot of wallpaper removal in your spare time?” you ask.

He fiddles with his watch, jaw working around whatever it is he wants to say.

“I’m a contractor.”

“Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he grumbles. “You think I sit on my ass all day?”

Honestly, you don’t know. Most of the thoughts you have about Joel aren’t to do with his job. You have no idea what he does when he isn’t here.

You shrug. Joel rolls his eyes.

“Well, I am,” he drawls. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “And I know the folks around here who you’ll need. Materials, all that.”

“Are you offering to help me, Joel?” You keep your voice neutral.

He looks at you head-on. It feels like he’s seeing through you again. “If you want it.”

“If we do that, it has nothing to do with…” You gesture between you. “With this.”

Joel just looks at you, letting you sort out what you want to say.

“I mean, I don’t want charity, okay?”

He shakes his head. “Ain’t charity. I owe Bill some favors. This’ll square us up. You’ll cover all the other shit, I guess.”

“It’s not his bar, anymore,” you remind him, but it’s a weak protest.

Joel knocks back the rest of his drink.

You’ve been working out how to finance the renovations all week. All that cash you’ve squirreled away over the years finally has a purpose, other than a cushion in case something really bad happens. It’s looking tight between paying the staff and sourcing the work. You’d only be able to close a week at a time and any delays will fuck the whole thing.

But if Joel’s offering discounted labor, materials on the cheap? You could get it all done faster, get it done right.

“Why do you want to help me?” you ask.

Joel huffs and if you knew him better you’d say it was in offense.

“Let’s just say I’m invested in the state of this place,” he says. “And you really gotta replace those booths.”

Your face feels hot. “Asshole.”

“So,” he says. “You interested?”

It’s not a bad idea. Hell, it might even be a good one. Money aside, Joel, whatever his story is, is connected in this town, and if you’re staying it would do you some good to start making some connections of your own. Start settling.

The fist in your chest, your heart, your mind – it loosens just a little bit.

“I’m interested.”

Joel knocks on the bar once, twice, and stands. He digs in his back pocket for his wallet and hands you a business card with his phone number.

“I’ll be here Monday morning,” he says. “We can start goin’ over stuff, figure out when you wanna close. All that. Call me anytime. Sound good?”

You just nod. The fatigue is starting to hit and Joel must be able to tell because he just smiles at you.

“Goodnight, boss lady,” he says. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”

Joel grabs his jacket and unlocks the door, sliding into the cool night with a wave.

“You don’t have a tab, asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smiling a little.

It feels like pieces are falling into place.

You know you could get the bar fixed up on your own. But with Joel’s help, it’ll get done faster and you might even have some money left over at the end of it.

It’s a lot all at once. But for some reason, it feels different this time. It’s not another job about to fall through, not another relationship going south because you got spooked. It’s not you getting bored and cutting your losses.

You want this. You want it to work. Usually, you’d have left by now, before you got too attached, but it’s too late so you’re going to make it work.

This thing with Joel, though – you’re going to have to be careful. If you’re not, it’ll run away from you and – well. You don’t want to lose control of it.

You look around the bar and sigh. Unwiped tables, a booth that no one should sit in, floors to clean. A few hours of work before bed.

You know you’re going to spend them trying not to think about the man who just left.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction

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redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

protected

hobie brown x o’hara!reader

request?: yes

request: “I know you’re probably busy 🙏🏽 but can I request a hobie x reader Where reader is miguels kid but from another universe and we were known as “dangerous” to the multiverse and miguel had to watch over us and we find out while hanging out with hobie and hobie has to comfort us as we try to process the fact that Miguel wasn’t our real dad and just someone keeping the mutliverse safe?

I really hope this makes sense i just don’t know how to make is make sense uk? 😭 💀”

requested by: @millerworld

word count: 1.7k

genre: angst with some fluff

Warnings: language, mentions of childbirth death, big feelings of betrayal, probably horrible spanish, honestly a lot of angst

A/N: apologies for the wait for this one! i love writing angst though so i was rubbing my hands together like an evil lil bitch writing this. i apologize if the spanish is wrong/not how it would actually be said/worded. been a minute since i took a spanish course, so i am a little rusty. please enjoy, and thank you so much for requesting, love! :)

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Ever since you remembered your dad, Miguel O’Hara, was there. Of course, there are certain moments of your childhood you don’t remember, as every child has, but your earliest memory is your dad picking you up and soothing you as you cried at two years old. And ever since then, he was always there. Your friends at school would always say you were so lucky that you had a dad that was so devoted to you, and you agreed. To an extent. See, he was very particular about what he allowed you to do. It wasn’t in a negative way, necessarily, he was just protective. His favorite saying and your least favorite saying in your house was ‘I just want what’s best for you, cariño.’

It resulted in you staying home from school events, friend events, and generally any type of event where your safety could have been compromised. It caused you to be a bit of a loner, always hearing about the parties, the gossip, all of it instead of actually experiencing it for yourself.

Of course, it annoyed you.

It still does.

He’s loosened up a bit eventually, though, allowing you to go to work with him. Which also meant you got to meet many spiders. Quite a few of the spider-people quickly became your closest friends, as it was simpler and easier for your dad to keep tabs on you in Spider Society. Much to his chagrin, you quickly became best friends with Hobie Brown. The two of you were around the same age, and since you were annoyed at your dad and in your rebellious era, you got along swimmingly. A little too swimmingly, actually, which Miguel purposefully chose to ignore for the most part. Until he saw Hobie sucking his little one’s face off. Regardless, Hobie was always quick to validate all your conflicted, annoyed, and even positive feelings about your father. He even helped you come out of your shell and rebel against Miguel occasionally.

Miguel didn’t like this very much, but he also knew that Hobie was still a good influence on you. No matter how many times both of you tried to convince him that he wasn’t. But sometimes, Hobie would talk you into doing things that he very much disliked. Hated, even. And this time was one of those times. While he was out, containing a particularly difficult anomaly, Hobie convinced you to search through Miguel’s personal files on his supercomputer because he bet if your birth certificate would be anywhere, it would be there. When you found a folder with your name, you expected to open it to see some family pictures, hoping for your birth certificate with the name of your mom. Your dad never really talked about your mom, just that she passed away during childbirth. You stopped asking because every time you did, he would get very quiet and a guilty look would appear on his face. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. So you went into this endeavor excited to see what you might find out. Unfortunately, that excitement didn’t last for very long. See when you opened your file expecting these mundane things, that wasn’t what you were met with.

In fact, that was nowhere near what you found.

You found detailed notes all about you.

“What the hell,” you mumble, scrolling through the various pictures of you as an infant, with two adult strangers. Hobie said nothing, looking at all the pictures and skimming the important parts of all the files you were pulling up with a frown on his face. You stop on a specific picture of a woman holding you in a hospital bed. She was smiling.

And she was very much alive.

Tears immediately start to well up in your eyes as Hobie gently pulls your hands away from the computer. “Think that’s enough a’ that, love,” he says softly. You yank your arms away from him. “No.” You scroll to the next photo, seeing a man you’ve never met before holding you in the same hospital room, with the same strange woman right next to him. The next time you scroll, it’s a detailed account from Miguel about who you are. Notes from your dad declaring you a ‘danger’ and that you ‘must be contained somehow.’ Talk of your biological parents, their names, and how you had to be separated from them before ‘irreversible damage was done to the multiverse.’

You stare at the screen, and Hobie pulls your hands away again, successfully this time. He steps between you and the screens, blocking your view and slowly walking you backward and away from the files. You’re too shocked to say anything, the only thing you can do is quietly cry. Hobie opens his mouth to say something when Miguel’s voice rings out. “What do the two of you think you’re doing?”

The two of you turn your heads toward Miguel, and his annoyed frown turns to one of concern as soon as he sees the look on your face. “¿Qué tienes, mi corazón?” Miguel asks, his voice much softer as he approaches you. Hobie moves, positioning himself between you and your ‘father,’ and scoffs. “Think you got some explainin’ to do ‘ere, mate,” Hobie says, and Miguel looks at him confused. Then he sees what’s on the screen. A look of horrified realization spreads across his face, and he looks at you. “(Y/n), cariño, I can explain.”

“Don’t call me that,” your voice, albeit shaky, finally comes back to you. Hobie turns his attention to you, squeezing the hand you’ve been holding onto for dear life ever since he pulled you away from the computer. “(Y/n)—”

“Who am I? Who are you to me?”

“…Please, let me—”

“WHO ARE THOSE PEOPLE?!” you shout, desperately yearning for your dad to say they weren’t what was said in his reports. But all he does is frown. “They’re… they are your biological parents,” he confesses, and you make a choked noise. Hobie subtly begins turning his watch to his universe, ready to make an escape from your dad at any point. “If you just let me explain—”

“I’m a threat to the multiverse?” you choke out through your tears, “What the fuck does that mean, papá?! If I can even call you that.” Miguel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t forget who raised you.”

“How could I?! How could you?! Is this why you never let me do anything?! Too worried your querido bebecito would destroy the fucking multiverse?!”

“(Y/n). I did it to protect everyone.”

“What about me?! Did you ever plan on telling me?! How is separating me from my family protecting me?!” Hobie places an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and keeping you shielded by him as Miguel tries to step closer to you. Miguel glares at him, and Hobie glares back. Miguel holds out his hand in a surrendering way. “It was to protect you just as much, if not more, as it was to protect everyone else. If you would just listen—“

“No. No, I’m done listening to you.”

“Cariño—”

“I am not tú cariño. I am not tú corazoón. You are not mi papá,” you say, venom behind your words. You can practically see Miguel’s heart shatter into tiny little pieces.

That was the worst thing you could have ever said to him.

Before he can say anything else, Hobie opens the portal, pulling you through and closing it almost immediately. You find yourself in the familiar atmosphere of his flat. “C’mere, love,” he mumbles, pulling you into his arms. You grip his shirt, sobbing into his chest as he rocks you back and forth, softly shushing you occasionally and rubbing your back. After what feels like hours, but was really maybe a minute, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you bridal style to his bed as you continue to cry into his shirt. He sits down, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head and rubbing up and down your arm. He can’t help but feel guilty for this. If he didn’t convince you to look at the computer…

“Don’t blame yourself, Hobie… please,” you whimper, and he sighs. “Love, you needa stop bein’ so good at knowin’ what i’m thinkin’,” he mumbles, and you look up at him with a soft smile. “Can’t help it. Even your thoughts are loud,” you say, and he snorts. “Chuffed to see the cryin’ made ya feel better,” he says and you shake your head. “I still feel like shit, Hobie,” you whisper, and he frowns. He gently wipes some tears away from your cheeks. “Reckon all ‘at cryin’ has you knackered?” he mumbles, and you nod softly. He lays backwards, maneuvering the two of you to be laying down. The two of you face each other, one of his hands cradling the side of your face while the other soothingly rubs up and down your side. You grip onto his shirt, and he places a soft peck on your nose. “‘m sorry, love,” he says, and you sniffle. “I already told you it isn’t your fault.”

“‘Kay, still feel like it was,” he says, and you sigh. “That’s not important right now,” he mumbles, gently pulling you closer. “What’s important is that I make you feel better.” You look at him, your eyes are still glossy from tears. “Never met someone who looked so stunnin’ when they cry,” he says, gently stroking your cheek. You smile softly, and he does too. “There’s my favorite smile,” he whispers before softly placing his lips on yours. It’s only for a second, but it makes all the pain go away. And you’re grateful for that. Even if it is just for a second. “Get some sleep, love.” He kisses your forehead, tangling his legs with yours and pulling your head into his chest. You relax into him. He was right. The crying was exhausting. Before you know it, you’re asleep as Hobie gently traces shapes into your skin, whispering anything and everything he loves about you to you so softly that if you weren’t really listening, you wouldn’t hear any of it. No one makes you feel protected quite like Hobie does.

And even if it’s just for a moment, thanks to Hobie, you feel like everything will be okay.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #o'hara!reader #dad!miguel #hobie brown #hobie #miguel o'hara #spiderverse

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 10 months

Text

More Nimona headcanons because these dorks have taken over my brain

I feel like Nimona tried really hard to hate Ambrosius

The first month they knew each other Nimona tried so hard to antagonize him and poke fun at him and remind him of the shit he’s done wrong

But it’s kind of hard to hate someone who’s slow to anger and quick to forgive

Reminding someone of their past mistakes with the intent to hurt them kind of stops being fun when the person is constantly aware of their mistakes

And owns up to them without making excuses and is constantly trying to undo the damage their mistakes caused

After a while, he grows on her and she starts to trust him and in return he trusts her

This one is based heavily on me and my best friends

Nimona and Ambrosius will talk shit loudly in public

They won’t use code names and if they don’t know the person they’ll start describing them like “Did you see that dude in the yellow shirt? He just pushed that kid out of line what a dick!”

They won't check to see if the person is out of earshot either they simply don't give a fuck

And this gives Bal so much fucking anxiety enough that he starts pleading with them to stop

You hear them going off about something and Bal saying “Ambrosius love hun sunshine I’m begging you to keep your voice down”

“Nim Nimona starlight hi I would like to remind you that they’re still behind us and I don’t want to explain to Ambrosius why you’ve gotten into another fight this week so please stop”

To which Nimona responds with “Tell him he’ll probably laugh”

Whenever Nimona and Ambrosius want to rant they rant to each other

Because Bal is the type of person to give advice in the middle of a rant

Talking some “If you explain this to them in a calm and compassionate manner I’m sure they’ll stop”

And while that's excellent advice sometimes you just want to scream your most unhinged thoughts at someone

And they never judge each other either

Nimona can look Ambrosius dead in the eyes and go “Have you ever gotten so angry during an argument that you’ve considered lighting their car on fire?”

And Ambrosius won't even think about it he’ll respond immediately with a “Who hasn't?” while Bal slowly backs out of the room and silently vows to hide his car the next time they fight

Whenever Ambrosius comes home from a stressful day at work he just walks into the house and lets out the most dramatic drawn out sigh

And whenever Nimona hears that noise they’ll run to the living room and sit on the couch patiently waiting for their daily rant session

Whenever Nimona gets home and wants to rant he’ll walk around until he finds Ambrosius

And if he can't find him he’ll sit by Bal and stew in his anger while he waits for him to come home

He can't even take one step through the door without Nimona saying something like “How dare you make me wait”

And Ambrosius will always respond with something like “Oh I’m so sorry firecracker it’ll never happen again”

And encourage them to tell him the information they’ve been patiently waiting to spill

Bal doesn’t rant unless he’s literally at the end of his rope

Like you have to royally screw him over for him to go home and rant to his family

When he finally rants to them they don’t make a big deal out of it

But they do however try their best to take care of him without raising his suspicions

Nimona will conveniently make Bal’s favorite dinner

Ambrosius will just so happen to pick up his favorite dessert on his way home (cause they both know the signs of a Bal rant and they plan accordingly)

They listen to his rant and let him eat his favorite food in peace while they play his favorite movies

You know real wholesome shit

All the while they’re coming up with plans in their head to destroy this person's life

#nimona 2023 #Nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #I love protective Ambrosius and Nimona #they both love bal so much #and would shank a bitch for him #and if that isn't the pinnacle of love I don't know what is #i love this stupid little family #I know they've had to fight people for each other #Nimona would get into a fight to protect her dads prove me wrong #they stress Bal out #all the time every day #he’s not surprised by anything anymore

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ellebakers · 9 months

Text

☆ Jealous boy | Part two (+18)

Ethan Landry x reader

Warnings : Mention of sex, blood, death, killing, language..

tag list : @iloveneilperry

PART ONE

"Y/n ?"

Samantha's voice grew more distant as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Ethan Landry, your best friend, the man you gave yourself to last night after finding out your boyfriend was cheating on you, hugging you, hands full of blood, the blood of Chad and Tara. He had an evil grin, and the ghostface outfit was dangling right in front of you.

Shocked, you dropped your phone to the floor. “Now it’s just you and me my love.”

You felt fear wash over you as he buried his face in your neck. "Let go of me."

Your voice was shaky, making Ethan laugh.

“What was that baby ?”

Seeing him laugh in the face of your fear awakened the anger in you, you struggled and spoke in a more ferocious voice.

"I said. Let go of me !"

You managed to get out of his arms and backed up to the sink to face him. “Shh, calm down sweetheart.”

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

Ethan laughed again. “That’s not what you said when I fucked you last night.”

Tears of fear and anger ran down your cheeks. "Fuck you."

Ethan looked at you, amused, he closed the door behind him and locked it. Fear took over realizing that your only exit had just closed, but you decided not to show anything. “You’re the fucking killer.”

The boy rolled his eyes. "Good point Sherlock."

You shook your head. "Fuck… Why ?"

Ethan opened his mouth to answer but your phone started ringing, you simultaneously looked at the phone as the photo and Sam's came up, a sigh of relief passed your lips but Ethan was quick and grabbed your phone, a threatening tone he passed to you.

“One word and I’ll kill you.”

He picked up and put it on speakerphone.

"Y/n ?! Are you okay ?"

You looked at Ethan who was threatening you with his gaze.

"I'm fine, do they know who did this ?"

"I don’t know. No masks were put in the apartment . Kirby thinks Ghostface acted without thinking, their deaths weren't planned."

You were looking for a way to alert Sam without Ethan realizing it, suddenly something came to your mind. "I feel like I'm reliving Woodsboro, it's like Amber stabbed me again."

Sam was silent for a moment and she took a deep breath. "I understand. I have to hang up, please be careful."

Once he hung up, Ethan sighed and took the knife he had hidden in his jeans, and pointed it at your chest.

"You know, I really love you. I told my dad and my sister to leave you alone, I managed to convince them that you wouldn't be a problem, but I realize that you will be."

You frown. "Your father and your sister ? What the hell are you talking about."

“Quinn and Bailey. ” Your jaw dropped in shock. An evil smile appeared on his face.

"You didn't expect that, did you? And yes, it's my family. Ethan Landry is not my real name, and you want to know something else?"

He came closer to you and lightly pressed on the scar that Richie had given you last year, on your chest. This scar hurt more than the others because if he had planted his blade two millimeters to the left, you would have died.

"My brother is the one who left you that scar."

Your heart stopped for a moment as you relived the pain he had caused you, as your scar split open under Ethan's touch.

"Yes sweetie, it hurts, I know. You, that whore Sam and all the others are going to die for what you did to my big brother."

You met his gaze and saw nothing but disgust. "I really loved you, but I realize that my father was right, you are as responsible as the others."

Something lit up inside you. Hatred.

“You want to know what I heard ?”

He scoffed. "Tell me."

"I heard your brother was impotent."

Ethan smoked. "Shut up."

"I also know he was a piece of shit who let his girlfriend do all the killing."

"Shut your fucking mouth !"

He raised his knife to stab you but you were faster and kicked him in the stomach with your foot, he backed away coughing. You grabbed his head and slammed him against the wall, knocking him down and disoriented.

You take this opportunity to unlock the door and get out of the bathroom, he gets up and runs after you. Once out of the room you rushed into the hallway and pressed the call button for the elevator, but it was too slow and Ethan was coming quickly, you took the first door and ran down the stairs as quickly as possible.

"Where do you think you're going bitch ?"

The descent to the ground floor seemed long to you as he got dangerously closer. Once you arrived downstairs you rushed to the door leading to the hall.

You saw the empty hall, and started to cry realizing that no one could help you, that's when Ethan threw himself on you, knocking you to the ground. He turned you on your back and raised his knife. It was the end, you closed your eyes so as not to see him. That's when a shot rang out, you jumped and opened your eyes. Ethan was no longer on top of you, he was running towards the emergency exit, Kirby not far behind him.

Sam rushes towards you. "Y/n, are you okay? Show me, did he hurt you."

Your nerves began to drop when you saw your friend's reassuring face, you let out all your tears and fell into her arms. She hugged you and stroked your hair. "Shhhh, it's over, I'm here."

You don't know how long you stayed like that, but after a while Kirby came back, panting.

"I lost him."

This should have worried you but for now you were just happy that Sam understood your hidden message. You knew that by talking about getting stabbed by your ex-best friend, she would have made the connection with Ethan, your current, now ex, best friend. But the hell, when will it end....

#scream vi #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #scream #scream x reader

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all-mirth-no-matter · 5 months

Text

Time After Time | Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: A significant death shakes up the Shelby household just as you find your way back inside. That events and those after make you start to wonder if now is the time to finally listen to Madam Despoina.

Warning: character death, language, yelling

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 13: Ghost

I like the sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies. Kiss me in the corridor, but quick to tell me goodbye. You say that you're no good for me, ‘cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve. And I swear I hate you when you leave. I like it anyway. — Ghost, Halsey

Coming back to the Shelby household wasn’t exactly what you expected. Best case scenario, you expected to be greeted warmly by Polly or Ada; worst case, you expected to have the door immediately slammed in your face by Tommy himself.

Instead, when you knocked on the door, little Katie greeted you.

John’s oldest daughter’s eyes widened and a smile spread across her face when she recognized you, “You’re back!”

She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside as you used your foot to close the door behind you to keep out the cold. When you got into the kitchen, Finn jumped from his chair and threw something into the fireplace.

“Finn,” you scolded. “That a cigarette?”

“Don’t tell Aunt Polly,” he begged, cowering down more in his chair.

Jack ran into the room, a smile on his face as he got ready to watch the show of his youngest uncle getting into trouble.

You hung your jacket on the hook and sat next to Finn, noticing him flinch slightly as you scooted closer. The instinct made you swallow knowing he probably expected you to hit him — one of the discipline actions of the times that still made you cringe despite your attempt to shield your facial expressions.

“I won’t. But you really shouldn’t smoke, especially while you’re still growing. It stunts your growth, ya’know. You want to be this height your whole life?” You tousled his hair playfully to emphasize your point.

Actually, you weren’t a hundred percent sure if that was true — you remember hearing it when you were younger (that and coffee) but you never actually ever did research on it yourself.

“It’s also bad for your lungs,” you added, closing the unattended box of sticks that were sitting in the middle of the table. “It’s bad enough the air quality here is practically smoke itself, the second hand smoke will probably kill us all—“

“Is that what’s happenin’ to mummy?” Katie asked, her hand resting on your knee as she began petting the material of your skirt.

Brow creased, you looked to Finn and Jack, then around the house and noticed no one was around.

“Where is your mum?”

“She’s sick again,” said Jack, or J.J. as you’d immediately called him when you learned that his real name was John, and that he’d been named after his father (Junior). Another moment of instant regret, seeing as you had no idea if initial names or initial nicknames were a common thing yet. But the seven year old latched onto it immediately and you’d apologized to Martha profusely. After the initial shock of her son insisting everyone call him this, who she’d named after John proudly, she finally admitted to finding the nickname quite cute.

That’d been the first substantial interaction you’d had with Martha after just starting in the house. Even before the boys returned, you’d offered to help watch the kids whenever Polly or Ada were babysitting. You’d built a bit of a rapport with the little ones over the months, which had honestly surprised you seeing as you had zero experience with children, being an only child and not having been around family outside of your parents your whole life. It’d taken a little longer to get friendlier with Martha, but eventually you’d found a mutual ease around each other when you were both in the house. But unlike Ada, you didn’t find yourself spending any time outside the house, or alone even, together. And that was okay.

But when she first started getting sick, you’d tried to put in a little more effort to at least let her know you were there for her, or Polly, or the kids, if they needed you. Last you’d heard, Martha had started feeling better around Christmas.

“It’s not smoke, dummy,” J.J. said harshly to his younger sister when she asked again if it was was because of the cigarettes.

“Hey,” you said instinctively, “no need for name calling.”

“Auntie Polly said she’s cold—“

“She’s got a cold—”

“Where is she now?” You interrupted before they escalated, bringing all three of their attentions back to you.

“Auntie Polly took her to the ha’pital,” Katie answered. “Teddy and Annie are with Auntie Ada, said they needed naps.”

And with that, you launched into babysitter mode for the three downstairs. You kept out of the way of the kitchen, especially when the shop opened. When Ada returned with the youngest two, you all took a trip to the shop for food, per Polly’s instructions. By the time you returned, Polly was back and starting dinner.

That’s when she broke the news silently to you and Ada.

Martha had passed away.

Polly was angry with the hospitals, ranting about how she didn’t trust them and how she never should have taken her there in the first place.

“I’ve sent word to John, but he’s still in Digbeth. I’m afraid I’m going to have to break the news to the children.”

You offered to stay the night to help with the kids and housework. That first night had been filled with tears. You even caught Polly’s eyes damp a handful of times during the quieter moments.

Over the next few days, whenever you didn’t have a shift at the Garrison, you ended up at the Shelby house, even sleeping in one of the unoccupied bedrooms most nights. Polly was spending most of the following days preparing for the funeral, while you and Ada tried to make this new world make sense to the children.

You and Ada both had your own experiences of losing your mothers to draw on in an attempt to console the little ones. But it was still difficult, especially for the youngest two, who were still not completely understanding that their mother wouldn’t be coming back. Finn’s patience and kindness to his little nieces and nephews had been the most endearing part for you. He’d been too young to remember his own mother, but was able to explain this new reality in child terms that surprised you.

Since arriving in this time and place, it was hard not to judge the living conditions and lack of opportunities that surrounded you, especially when comparing them to your own upbringing. You’d always considered yourself middle to lower class, but you still had so much more privilege than whole chunks of the world.

Here, even with some of those privileges, you were beginning to understand just how much faster it seemed these children of the time had to grow and mature than you ever had to. Hardships like losing parents at a young age were just the beginning — poverty, malnourishment, lack of education opportunities — these were things that you couldn’t imagine having grown up through. It make you think about Ada and Tommy, your previous image of them running around as children suddenly shifting to something more heart clenching.

Your respect for Polly and her role as matriarch was already high, but over the next few days it only grew as she handled the household, children, business, and funeral arrangements nearly on her own. There hadn’t been a peep from John or any of the brothers until the night before the funeral.

Not yet asleep, you could hear the banging of doors opening and chairs moving in the kitchen. Instinctively, you rose from the cot and grabbed the fireplace stick. On your way down, you stuck your head in the kids’ room, seeing them fast asleep before shutting the door and heading for the noisy intruders.

“Come on, Tom,” you heard Arthur’s voice coming from the kitchen. “She’s got a sister—“

“S’not tonight.” Tommy replying made you pause, your heart jumping at hearing his voice for the first time in weeks. “We’ve got— got the funeral tomorrow, then back to ‘beth.”

His voice sounded lighter than normal, if not slightly slurred.

“Ah fuck it — we’ve been over there for weeks now. The whores here know exactly what I like, them in Dig—“

You cleared your throat, startling both men, though only one reached for his gun to point in your direction. Despite your curiosity to hear more about their escapades, Arthur’s voice had grown louder and you were fearful he’d wake John’s kids, who’d been nightmarish already to settle down.

Tommy’s throat bobbled as he lowered his gun, setting it down on the table. You noticed the dishevelment of his hair and collar of his shirt under his jacket. That, along with the way Arthur was swaying and both with nearly empty bottles in their hands confirmed what you suspected — the boys were wasted.

“The fuck’re you doin’ here?” Arthur asked, his voice not holding as much disdain as you expected, despite the words coming out.

“I’ve been helping Polly and Ada with the kids,” you answered softly, crossing your arms. “They’re asleep upstairs, if you wouldn’t mind keeping your voice down.”

Arthur’s brow creased, his voice still at the same decimeter despite your request. “You ain’t got kids—”

“John’s kids,” Tommy reminded his brother. He gestured toward the door, “Go on now. Don’t you have someone to meet?”

Arthur perked up, “Right! Suppose you won’t join me now, eh? You’ll know where I’ll be!” He gave a final shout before leaving the room and closing the door loudly behind him, causing you to cringe and listen for the stirrings of awakened little ones.

After a moment of silence, you turned back toward the kitchen where Tommy was beginning to remove his jacket.

A deep red stain on the shoulder of his shirt sleeve caused you to gasp, walking toward him without realizing what you were doing, setting the fireplace poker on the table.

“What happened?” You asked, touching his arm gently as you rotated it to see a slash in the fabric.

Tommy shrugged, unsteady on his feet as he instead reached for the fuller bottle of rum on the counter. “Just a scrap ‘fore we went to the pub, ‘s nothin’—“

“I can help—“

“Just go back to the room—“

“Sit down,” you instructed more sternly. He glared at you, but you didn’t let it stop you. “Take off your shirt, that’s going to infect if we don’t clean it.”

“I can do it m’self,” he mumbled and turned to leave, but began to stumble as he became imbalanced.

You caught and stabilized him before guiding him back to the chair. “You’re drunk as fuck, Tommy. Just sit down and let me help you.”

He huffed, but began to slide down in the chair until it creaked with the extra weight. Satisfied, you finally turned to get a fresh bowl of water and clean towels, then the bandages you’d seen Polly use a few times before. He was unbuttoning his shirt when you pulled up a second chair closer to him, ringing the cloth in the water.

“What were you gonna do with that?” You caught his gesture to the fireplace poker on the table, his voice laced with condescension. “Should learn how to handle a real weapon.”

By the time you sat down, Tommy had his bad arm out of his shirt.

“I know how to handle a gun,” you answered plainly, your voice serious as he watched you examine his wound.

Well, you knew how to handle a gun in the 2000s, that is. With your father being a military man, he wanted to make sure you and your mother went through the proper gun safety and etiquette classes since there’d likely be some weapons in the house. You hadn’t been to a shooting range since your father was alive, but you imagined if you had to handle a gun today you’d at least not make a total idiot of yourself. Now, whether you could actually shoot a live person was another question.

Concentrating back on Tommy’s arm, the blood had begun to crust around the cut, but began to bleed slightly as you started to put pressure on it. He hissed slightly at the contact.

“Sorry,” you mumbled slightly as you continued to work. “Why’d you let this go so long? You know better—“

He scoffed, “Do I?”

“I would have assumed so,” you answered honestly. Someone with the military backing he had, he must have known the dangers of infections and exposed wounds. Though as you worked you began to realize it wasn’t as bad as it’d originally appeared.

He took another swig of the bottle before handing it to you.

“No thanks,” you answered, not in the mood to drink tonight.

“For the cut,” he said as he shook his head, a breath of amusement exhaling from his nose at your reaction.

Sterilizing, you realized, giving yourself a duh as you took the bottle and carefully poured some on his skin. He hissed again as blood started to flow once more before you applied proper pressure. You sat there silently for a moment, just holding the rag to his arm, when you noticed him looking down at the cut sleeve, running his thumb across the red stain.

“So much blood for such a small cut,” he said softly, mostly to himself.

Your brow creased as you lifted the rag to look at his arm. The cut itself wasn’t that deep, but it was pretty substantial, at least in your opinion. Maybe comparatively it wasn’t as bad as some of the other injuries he’d had in his lifetime. The thought made your heart clench as your eyes began to notice other scars along his arm and uncovered chest.

You kept going back to a particularly gnarly scar just above his chest as you lifted his arm to wrap the bandage.

“Did you get this fighting?” you finally asked, turning your attention back to the cut, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He grabbed the bottle and took another drink. “‘Cause that’s all we do, eh? Drink, fight, and fuck—“

“I didn’t say that,” you interrupted, your voice strong in defense.

You wouldn’t mention how his brother was just talking about whores. Or how they were both currently drunk. Or how the last time you’d seen him in this kitchen he’d been bloody and bruised from an altercation.

Probably wouldn’t be helpful at this point.

Instead, you tried to appeal to the logical side of him. “Just with the Digbeth expansion, I’d imagine that can be pretty dangerous.”

You finished the tie of the bandage as you looked back up at him. He was already watching you, his eyes red and glassy, causing the already bright blues to appear more translucent against the candlelight. You noticed how much darker the skin under his eyes were, and couldn’t help but wonder when the last time he slept was.

“You’ve got some on your hands,” he pointed, gently wrapping his hand around your own. He lifted it, revealing the deep red smear on the pad of your hand. He used his good hand to squeeze out the rag and began to clean your palm.

“It’s just blood,” you shrugged, trying not to let on that your heart was racing at the intimacy. “Blood doesn’t scare me, Tommy.”

He looked between your eyes. For a moment you felt like he’d suddenly become sober as he lifted his good hand and gently ran his thumb against your cheek. “It should.”

You swallowed. “Tommy, I—“

“You don’t belong here.”

At his words, you felt your back straighten in defense, not realizing how close you’d been moving in toward him. Your heart began to race even faster as you tried to decipher what exactly he meant.

Part of you knew he must have been talking more in general terms. That you deserved something more than Birmingham in a gambling den with gangsters.

But there was something in the rawness of his words. Something that made you feel like he knew what such a phrase could actually mean to you — that you didn’t belong here, in this time or this place.

“I don’t,” you answered honestly, not helping the sincerity of the words falling from your lips. “But here I am. And here is where I want to be.”

Tommy’s expression remained unreadable as his eyes flicked between both of yours, looking for the lie. His adam’s apple bobbed, then he whispered, “With me?”

The sound of soft whimpering caused you both to jump, turning back toward the kitchen doorway. Katie stopped at the archway, dragging a blanket as she used the end of it to wipe her face.

You rose from your seat to collect the little one — this wasn’t the first time she’d woken up crying since her mother’s passing.

Katie nuzzled her face into your shoulder as you turned back toward the kitchen. Tommy was already standing, putting his arm back in his shirt and grabbing his coat and gun, still slightly uneasy in his footing as he headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Tommy—” you called as the door shut behind him.

—-

The next morning was hectic as everyone prepared for the funeral. You didn’t see the brothers again until that afternoon, John’s eyes red despite the stone expression he kept on his face as everyone offered their condolences.

You felt Tommy’s eyes on you as you both navigated through the house, stealing a few glances at him yourself when he wasn’t looking. Neither of you spoke to the other though, and you were beginning to wonder if he even remembered your conversation the previous night. But each time you found yourself thinking in that direction, you shook your head to remind yourself of the bigger picture of the day.

Polly explained that they would start at Charlie’s Yard and walk the body through the town Martha had grown up in before reaching the graveyard. There, the priest would perform the ceremony. Apparently most of Martha’s family was already gone, so the guests would be mostly John’s family and her friends. After the burial, the Shelbys would return to Charlie’s Yard to burn the caravan filled with Martha’s mementos and pictures. Apparently this was more of a Shelby family tradition, something you were greatly interested in learning more about, at a different time of course.

The preparations reminded you of your recent conversation with Polly over spirits. It got you thinking about the tea Madam Despoina had given you again.

Excusing yourself to get ready for the events of the day, you left the Shelby house to change in your lodgings, doing your best to find something black. The only thing you didn’t have was a hat, but Ada had promised to bring you an extra. Your eyes kept shifting over to your dresser drawer.

It’d been almost a month since you’d received the gift. You’d spent months desperate for an answer as to how or why you were here. And it seemed that just as you were given some sort of clue, some key to unlock something — you were rejecting it. You’d gotten caught up in the found family of the Shelbys and the unshakable pull you felt from Tommy. This new life you’d created for yourself had become a distraction and disassociation of the still very real mystery of your circumstance.

Your eyes moved again to the dresser as you looked over yourself in the mirror. Could the answer be in that cup of tea?

A knock at the door caused you to jump, your heart racing at being caught with your own thoughts. Half expecting Ada with the hat she’d promised, you were surprised when it was Tommy instead who stood on the other side of your door.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he stood there uncomfortably. He cleared his throat, “Ada wasn’t sure if you’d know where Charlie’s Yard was, so I offered to come collect you.”

“Oh,” you replied, wondering if it was true. “I just need to get my coat then—“

“Tommy? What are you doin’ here?” You heard another man’s voice down the hall as you turned back around to poke your head through the still open door of your apartment.

Benji approached the doorway in a button-up and small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Tommy’s brow creased as he appraised the man, then looked between the flowers and you before his face hardened and back straightened.

“What are you doing here, Benji?”

He smirked, “We were going to get dinner, remember?”

You hadn’t. The man hadn’t even been a speck on your mind the past week.

“I’m sorry, Benji,” you began, your voice sincere, “um— Martha passed away this week. We’re on our way to the funeral, I can’t see you tonight.”

“Oh,” he turned to Tommy. “Right I heard about that. I’m sorry for your loss, mate.”

Tommy shook his head. “Save your condolences for my brother, Hancock. We’re going to be late, if you’ll excuse us.”

Without waiting for you, Tommy began to walk down the hallway toward the exit. You rushed to grab your coat and lock your door behind you before apologizing again to Benji and hustling after Tommy.

“Suppose that answers my question,” was the first thing out of Tommy’s mouth when you finally caught up with him, still looking straight ahead as you both walked down the lane.

“What?”

“Last night—“

“You remember last night?” you asked surprised. He had been really drunk

He scoffed, still not slowing in his walk nor giving you a glance. “I remember a lot of things. Including you telling me you weren’t interested in Hancock.”

“I wasn’t,” you answered, trying to catch your breath.

He scoffed again and your eyes narrowed.

“But then nearly a month went by after you ghosted me so I thought what the hell, give the guy a chance.”

“Ghost?—“

“You told me to stay away—“

“And staying away means being courted by a Peaky Blinder, ya?”

“Courted?” Your brow creased at the use of phrase. “It was going to be one date — just a dinner, we weren’t getting married.”

He rounded on you, pulling you abruptly into an alcove off the sidewalk until your back was against the brick. His eyes bore down at you as the fire returned to his eyes. “Do you know what happens to people who cross me?” He started, his voice lower than it had been moments before. “They lose their ears, their tongues, their eyes. You have no fuckin’ idea who you’re talking to.”

“I do,” you said, your voice just as strong despite the threatening tone of Tommy hovering above you. His eyes simmered for a moment. “You think you’re a monster. Maybe you are— maybe you have to be, maybe you don’t. I don’t care. I said I was going to help you. So shove off with the chauvinistic ‘I’m pushing you away to keep you safe’ bullshit — I don’t want it.”

You surprised yourself at your own words, though you tried to keep your face from showing it. Deep down, you’d always believed what you said, but you hadn’t known exactly to what extent. Did you not care if Tommy Shelby was a monster? No. And you couldn’t shake why.

“You’ll regret it,” he said, his eyes icy once again with the same hint of desperation you saw the night before.

“Not as much as you’ll regret going from ‘I need you’ to ‘stay away from me’—“

He shook his head, finally taking a step back from you. “I was being selfish—“

“Well then be selfish!” You took a step back toward him. “Because dammit, Tommy, I need you too!”

He pulled your body into his so quickly you nearly pushed him away. But your body immediately reacted to the feel of his lips against yours as you pulled yourself in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You broke away first, the whistling of pedestrians on the sidewalk making you remember you weren’t as concealed in this alcove as you thought. Though Tommy didn’t seem to care, his eyes still focused on you as you caught your breath.

“Don’t think just kissing me absolves you from giving a proper explanation for your actions,” you tried to say as serious as you could muster between breaths.

You were still mad at him. He’d put you through a roller coaster of unnecessary emotions the last few weeks. For him to get jealous at the prospects of you moving on? There was something more, you could feel it. And there was no way you were letting him get away with not explaining himself fully before you felt you could open back up to him again.

The corner of his mouth rose in amusement, “Come to the races with me when I return.”

“What?” your brow creased, though the corner of your mouth tugged upward at the prospects of what sounded like a date (you really were delusional when it came to this man).

“I want to take you to the races. Join me?”

You shook your head, “Is this the Tommy Shelby version of an olive branch?”

He smirked, “Maybe. We can talk more then.”

“Deal,” you answered, pulling his smirk into a genuine smile as you both turned back to continue down the sidewalk.

—-

The funeral was beautiful. Honestly, you hadn’t any idea what to expect when Polly talked about the arrangements. But the words, the songs, and the beauty of the traditions had you in tears. John held his children during the entire procession, and gave a lovely send off before lighting the fire.

Despite the grief you were feeling for the family, your brain hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the tea in your bedroom. Tommy had informed you that they’d be wrapping up Digbeth soon, returning properly in a few weeks.

That night was the first night you’d been back in your own apartment. The first thing you did was open your dresser drawer and remove the box.

You left it on your counter top as you started the fireplace, then the kettle. As you reached for the tea cup, you wondered if it was smart to be alone while you did this. You were, after all, still about sixty percent sure that the old tea was just going to give you either a stomach ache or seizure. But, you guessed that was better than the ninety-nine percent that you’d been at upon first receiving.

You gently removed the leaves and vial of water, following the instructions from Madam Despoina as you made your cup.

Holding the warm tea in your hands, you made the last minute decision to sit on the floor — reasoning that if you collapsed or something, at least you wouldn’t have as far to go.

You settled on the rug, inhaled deeply, closed your eyes, then brought the edge of the cup to your mouth.

You could feel the hot water run through your throat, then down to your chest before the warmth began to spread through your arms and hands, down to your stomach, then legs, then toes.

With your eyes still closed, you sat for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

When nothing did, you took another sip. Again, nothing happened.

Sighing, you sent a small thank you to whomever was listening that you at least didn’t go into any kind of shock, then opened your eyes.

“Hello, darling.”

>> next chapter <;< chapter masterlist

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flowerprincesscherryblossom · 1 year

Text

bully me - chapter three

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 3762 warnings: angst, smut, explicit language, bully kook, daddy dom kook, dub-con, degradation kink, choking, breathplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia, car sex, reverse cowgirl series masterlist A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

On the way to your next class you kept glancing around, trying to see if you could find Jungkook since he had left you in the boys' bathroom with only your phone and water bottle, taking your bag, and thus pretty much your everything, to God knows wherever the hell he had went.

You caught other students staring at you, no doubt seeing the mark on your neck, but you did your best to ignore the pity they sent your way. You did, however, wonder if they thought that your bully had choked you, just not the way it had actually happened.

Unfortunately, by the time you reached the door to the classroom, he was still nowhere in sight. You started to panic a little, Jungkook had pretty much stolen your belongings, was God knows where with them, and you still had two hours left before school was over, how were you going to manage?

But then you remembered, he had used your phone to get your number, so technically you had his as well. You unlocked your phone and tapped the call history, only to find that the last call had been made six days ago, to one of your parents. He had deleted his number from the call history.

"Of course he did," you groaned, your voice still hoarse.

When you heard the bell ring you entered the class, your head hanging low and with a need to start crying.

Despite how miserable Jungkook made your school life be, he never interfered a lot with your studies, other than ripping to shreds your papers, something that was still very appreciated on your part, because it still gave you a chance to strive under all the hardship with passable grades, for you wanted more than to graduate and leave this place behind without ever looking back.

You, and all the other students, took your respectful seats, of which you winced due to the many spanks you had received, but you couldn't exactly be standing without causing suspension so you had to suck it up, and patiently waited, for the moment there were the only two people missing - Jungkook and the teacher - would show up.

Five minutes passed, in which you had spent on google trying to find a to heal your bruised neck, when the students heard the door being opened, Jungkook walked in first, talking cheerfully to the figure behind him, who you assumed to be new since you've never seen him before.

He looked awfully young for a teacher, making you believe that there wasn't a big age difference between you and him.

"Good day class, my name is Mr. Kim and I'll be substituting for Mrs. Lang since she had to leave due to a family emergency," he said while arranging his things on the teacher's desk, not really paying attention to the students, meanwhile your bully was standing by the desk, not really doing much of anything. "Due to being so last minute I haven't had a chance to memorize myself with the class subject, so because of that Mr. Jeon here," he gave Jungkook a shoulder tap. "Suggested we could watch a movie," the words caused the entire class, except for you, to start excitedly whispering to each other, because, let's be real, it doesn't matter what you are watching, it's better than sitting in class, even if more than half of the students would ignore the movie and focus on their phones.

As the substitute teacher booted up the computer Jungkook started walking towards his desk, pausing when he reached yours. He stared at you for a couple of seconds before turning to give a quick glance at the professor from over his shoulder, who was now inserting the DVD, and then grabbing your arm, pulling you up and dragging you to sit next to him at the back of the classroom, barely giving you any time to grab your phone and water bottle.

None of the rest of the students said anything about it, you had even caught some adverting their eyes from you. However, you did feel a pair of eyes on you, making you wonder if Mr. Kim had seen everything, and if he had, why he hadn't said anything.

As you took your seat you felt incredibly awkward and anxious about your current situation. This was the first time you were seated next to Jungkook since middle school, back when boys and girls making fun of each other was so common that the school staff only intervened when actual fights broke down, and even then, it hadn't been by your choice but by the teacher's.

Just from today's interactions with him, you knew that being seated next to him was due to him having an ulterior motive, but as the teacher turned on the projector and the image of a black screen started to show on the blackboard, you decided to push your thoughts to the back of your mind, wanting to believe that since he had been the one to pick, that he would actually pay attention to it instead of you.

You were also curious about what movie he had picked, but unlike his intentions, that one didn't leave you on the brink of a panic attack.

Mr. Kim pressed play, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the chair. You, on the other hand, stood up straighter in your seat, and as the old DreamWorks logo started showing and the old familiar tune started playing, your eyes widen, feeling a little bewildered that Jungkook had picked this one out of so many.

You leaned closer to him, still keeping your eyes on the screen. "You picked Shrek?" you whispered in order to not disturb anyone, even if they were all on their phones.

The reason why you were so confused by his choice was because Shrek was your go-to movie whenever you needed a pick-me-up, something that only the close group of friends you had in middle school knew, and as far as you remembered, none of them talked with him. Had one of your then friends told him about it? Had he overheard the conversation? Was it just a massive coincidence?

You couldn't stop these thoughts from circling around your brain. You wanted to know the reason but you couldn't be too obvious, since you knew that, if you were, he won't tell you just so he could see you squirm.

Jungkook hummed at your question, leaning against his chair and keeping his eyes on the movie. "He wanted to pick Romeo and Juliet because," he cleared his throat. "It makes sense considering the class," he did his best impression of Mr. Kim which manages to get a quiet giggle out of you. At the sound of your laugh, Jungkook turned to glance at you, his eyes wide with a bit of shock, before turning back to the movie and letting out a laugh of his own, letting you catch a glimpse of his bunny smile.

"How did you do it?"

"Honestly?" he scratched the back of his head. "I just said a bunch of bullshit," both of you chuckle again. "I don't know if I did convince him, or if he just got tired and gave up."

While it was nice to have a decent conversation with Jungkook, after everything the two of you had been through just today, it still didn't answer your question. "Okay, but why Shrek though? You could've picked any movie,"

He looked at you again, this time there was something soft in his eyes, something you couldn't pinpoint, before he shrugged. "I don't know, just wanted a fun movie I guess,"

The conversation stopped after that, but while you were willing to drop the Shrek talk, there was still something you wanted an answer to. "Where's my bag?"

He smirked. "It's in my car, don't worry about it,"

"But we still have an hour to go after this one," there was an urgency in your voice. "Jungkook, I need my stuff."

"Calm down," he gave your knee a squeeze, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I'll give it back after class."

You decided to not press the issue further, knowing it would be useless to continue, so instead, you decided to focus on the movie. Jungkook's hand remained on your knee, something you didn't give much thought to because nothing happen.

It isn't until the scene where Shrek and Donkey enter the dragon's keep that his hand starts to move, going as slowly as possible up your thigh, stopping once the tips of his fingers could graze your panties.

Your breathing changed, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage, making you feel the familiar pang between your legs, wanting to rub your thighs together but he wasn't letting you, and by extension, making an even bigger mess of your underwear, your wetness combining with the cum that had been escaping from you since walking out of the boys' bathroom.

But it wasn't until Shrek and Donkey's talk after rescuing Fiona that Jungkook actually started doing something.

His index and middle finger started rubbing you through your panties, making you clench your fists and bit your bruised lip, in order to contain the noise. "J-jungkook,"

"Be quiet," he said in an authoritative tone, keeping his eyes on the movie while his fingers rubbed your clothed slit before pushing your underwear to the side and inserting two fingers into you, making you bite down harder on your bottom lip and reopening the wound, pumping them slowly. Jungkook leaned closer and whispered in your ear. "You wouldn't want everyone to know of much of a slut you are, right?"

You shook your head, knowing that if you opened your mouth, it would be words coming out.

He smirked as his thrusts became faster and rougher, alternating between thrusting and curling them with precision against your sweet spot.

The feeling was so overwhelming that you laid your head on the table, hoping that, at least, on the off-chance that you let out a noise, people would just assume that you were feeling unwell.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as he kept scissoring you at a fast pace, you felt so close that you could almost taste your high. Jungkook inserted a third finger into your cunt, his thrusts becoming even faster.

You saw drops of blood falling into the table due to how much you were biting your bottom lip, the closer you got to breaking apart the more you felt like you couldn't breathe. "D-Daddy, p-please," you begged, not being able to hold off for much longer.

Your bully's thumb started rubbing circles on your clit, in turn, you started moving your hips in tune with his hand. Every once in a while you'd look at him from the corner of your eye, noticing that he kept his eyes on the screen but that he had the biggest cheshire grin on his lips.

Jungkook leaned to whisper in your ear. "Cum for me, cum all over daddy's fingers," with a couple more thrusts your knot finally broke and you reached your high, releasing all over his hand.

You let out a loud gasp, finally feeling like the air was filling your lungs, no doubt turning a couple of people to stare in your direction, in retaliation Jungkook pinched your clit, making you whimper in turn.

"I told you to be quiet," he growled with clenched teeth as the pace of his fingers started to slow down. He, however, didn't pull out, prolonging your high until it turned into overstimulation, making you let out another whimper. "Stupid bitch."

"P-please," you begged, not being able to handle anymore. "J-jungkook p-please, s-stop."

At your words he stopped and pulled his fingers out, licking the wetness of his fingers as quickly as he could, wiping the saliva off on his pants, and then running those same fingers through your hair.

Although surprised by his actions, you still welcome them, feeling yourself relax little by little as your breathing started to slow down.

Once he felt that you were relaxed enough, Jungkook grabbed your water bottle and stood up from his seat, loudly claiming that he would be right back and then walking out of the classroom.

The whispers started immediately after, everybody wanting to know about what had happened and why Jungkook was acting the way that he was, some of them even suggesting that he had hurt you and was only playing nice to trick the teacher.

You turned to look at the professor and found him absorbed in the movie and turning out the gossip, and you decided to follow Mr. Kim's example. Only you and your bully knew the truth, and you wanted it to remain that way.

It wasn't long before he returned, taking his seat and handing you back the now full water bottle, giving you also a sugar packet. "Put the sugar under your tongue and then drink," he said in a tone you haven't heard from him before.

There was something sweet, and a hint of concern for you, in it.

You did as told, drinking until the bottle was half empty, feeling slightly better afterward.

You crossed your arms over the table, lying your head on top of them and paying attention to the movie, choosing to keep quiet. On his part, Jungkook also remained in silence, keeping his arms to himself by crossing them over his chest, but every once in a while you could feel his eyes on you.

When the screen shows the protagonists arriving near Duloc, the substitute teacher pauses the movie, saying that since there are only five minutes before the bell rings that he's letting the students leave class earlier, almost everyone immediately standing up and going out the door before the phrase was finished.

"Mr. Jeon, would you mind behind for a couple more minutes?" Mr. Kim said as he packed his belongings, pulling the DVD out of the computer and turning it off.

Instead of answering the adult in the room, Jungkook turned to look at you. "Do you know what my car looks like?" you nodded. "Wait for me there okay?"

You nodded again as you headed towards the door as your bully went to stand by the teacher's desk. As you were walking out you could've sworn that you had heard Jungkook say 'hyung' but you decided to shrug it off, since it wasn't any of your business, and walked to the carpark, phone and bottle in hand while ignoring all of your classmates' eyes on you.

Arriving outside you let out a deep breath, taking a moment to let the slight breeze cover you like a blanket.

As you walked toward Jungkook's mercedes benz gt63s, your thoughts went back to what had happened in the classroom.

You didn't understand why you had reacted to the overstimulation the way you did, considering that, Jungkook did a lot worse to your body during the previous recesses. The difference between the two was the free period between sessions, the first time there was an hour for your body to rest, the second time was less.

But when comparing what he had done to you in the bathrooms to what he did in the classroom, fingering you seemed like nothing. You couldn't fathom why you had reacted the way you did, other than chalking it up to just a bad reaction.

When you got close to the car you could see your bag in the backseat, but since Jungkook hadn't given you the key, you didn't have much of a choice other than to lean against the mercedes and wait for him.

You don't know for how long you wait, having decided to ignore the phone in your hand and opting instead for watching people interact with one another, finding it to be a good distraction.

It wasn't long before Jungkook came out of the building, disregarding your presence for the sake of opening the backdoor on the left side of the car.

"Get in," he said opening the door on the backseat, closing it once you had gotten in. He went around the car and got inside from the right, taking a seat next to you but still creating a small space between the both of you.

He tossed your bag to the passenger seat and leaned against the cushion, throwing his head back and releasing a deep sigh. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine,"

Jungkook rubbed his hands on his thighs, avoiding looking at you. "What happened?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "It never happen before."

Your bully nodded at your words, keeping his eyes on the car's ceiling, you leaned your head against the cushion keeping your eyes on him, letting silence fill the air around you.

After a couple of minutes, he turned to look at you, his eyes going darker the more they stayed on you, before taking a hold of your arm, pulling you up and making you sit on his lap, settling both of his hands on your hips and hiding his face on your neck.

His left hand slid up to your neck while his right one slid down until it reached your clothed center, pulling your panties to the side and rubbing your slit.

You threw your head backward when he inserted two fingers inside you, freely letting out soft moans with each thrust of his digits into you, your hips moving in tune with his hand, making you grind against his now half-mast length.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as he curled them with precision against your sweet spot. "D-Daddy," your right hand moved towards his thigh, nails digging into the flesh. "D-Daddy p-please."

Jungkook chuckled darkly, pulling the hand away from your neck and moving it between your bodies, pulling his cock out of its confinements and stroking it to full mast. "Get up,"

You replaced his hand in pulling your underwear to the side, his right hand lifting your skirt as his left pulled you back towards him. You slowly sank down on his length, before you heard Jungkook let out a tsk and forced you down, making you bite your bruised lip at the burn of the stretch as took all of him in one go.

"You should be used to daddy's cock by now," the hand that had previously been on your skirt crawled up your body, fondling both of your tits before settling on your neck. You rolled your hips, the feeling of his throbbing cock against your walls begging you to move. "You should also be used to following orders," the hand on your waist moving to slap your clit before returning to its place, making you let out a gasp, his breath fanning in your ear. "You really are stupid aren't you?" the hand on your neck gave it a squeeze as your bully chuckled darkly.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, each passing second leaving you on the verge of tears of frustration, not being helped by his occasionally twitching length.

"Such a good little slut," you whined at the words. "Do you want daddy to move?" you could hear the smirk in his words but still nodded rapidly, not knowing of much longer you could take. Jungkook pulled his hands away from you, settling his arms on the back of the seat. "Do it then," you look at him over your shoulder, his eyes dark with lust and his cheshire grin growing wider.

"Jump," he growled, and immediately you started to move, bouncing up and down on his cock.

Your hands were on his knees, helping you with the movements, his length rubbing against your walls and hitting your cervix with each thrust.

Jungkook threw his head back, letting out a groan at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. "You take daddy's cock so well, such a good little slut,"

"D-Daddy," you moaned out, your legs growing weaker.

"What's wrong cunt?" his hands move to settle on your hips. "Can't fuck yourself on daddy's cock?" you whined, the pain on your legs slowing down your movements. "So fucking useless."

He gripped tightly onto your waist and started trusting upwards, his animalistic pace causing you to throw your head back, settling it on his shoulder as you let out moan after moan of his title.

His pace didn't falter even as one of his hands left your hip and went to your neck, squeezing it tightly while the one on your waist dug his nails into the flesh. "So good to me,"

"D-Daddy, I-I'm gonna," you felt a sudden sting on your ass, making you let out a yell.

"Not yet bitch," he jackhammered into you, his rough and fast pace faltering as he felt himself close to the edge. "Ah f-fuck, such a good pussy, made just for me."

With a couple more thrusts Jungkook reached his high and painted your walls with his hot release, triggering your own.

Both of you stood still as you worked on catching your breaths, but it wasn't long before you felt his hand grip your hair and pull you closer to him, his breath fanning in your ear. "Did I say you could cum?" he pulled at your hair again, making you let out a yelp at the pain. "Answer me bitch!"

"N-no," tears started streaming your face.

"Then why did you do it? Are you really that stupid that you can't follow simple orders?" he bit your ear. "Are you that much of a slut?"

You answered the only thing your blissful mind could think of. "I-I'm d-daddy's little cumslut,"

Jungkook tsked at your words, telling you that that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Clearly I've been spoiling you," his face moved towards your neck, grazing it with his nose before biting into it, followed by him forcing you to face, making you wonder if you had cried due to the bite or due to the hair pulling. "I'll have to teach you some matters later."

Both of you stood facing each other for a couple more seconds before something overtook Jungkook's eyes, almost like he had had a sudden realization, and he let go of you, throwing you off of him and almost into the gear shift. "Leave,"

You pick up your bag and left the mercedes, you turn to look back at him before shaking your head and walking towards the school.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic

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strawberrystepmom · 6 months

Text

izuku x f!reader. enemies to lovers au, workshopped with @izvmimi <33333 her follow up part can be found here. wc 3.6k.

With an exasperated sigh, Izuku points the remote that looks comically small in his hand toward the flat screen TV screwed into his office wall to turn the volume up the moment you come on screen.

“This week, yet another family was displaced by the inaction of heroes. When the focus shifted from merely catching villains rather than protecting the public…”

Your voice drifts into a blur, the man choosing to focus on your mouth and how it’s moving rather than what you’re saying. Plush and soft, topped with camera ready shimmering gloss. Your eyes are wide and doe like, your cheeks round and trustworthy. You’re the picture of empathy, pretty and polished, immaculate in every way.

It certainly isn’t hard to imagine why VOHSV, Victims of Hero Supported Violence, picked you as their spokesperson. Who else could manage this busy talk show circuit with expert precision? Watching you play the crowd and hosts’ emotions like a violin makes him roll his eyes but he can’t deny you are damn good.

Your message is infuriating to him and his colleagues but at least you look like heaven sent while spreading it. It’s probably why everything you say spreads like wildfire across the social media apps he has open on his unlocked phone that rests on his desk.

He’s listened to your spiel enough times that he can already fill in the blanks of what you’re saying but he picks up the remote and turns the volume up an additional click to be certain you haven’t deviated from your usual points. Costly property damage, displacement, lack of available care to those affected by the trauma of villain attacks, blah, blah, blah.

The interviewer appears on screen as the camera pans, nodding at the last comment you made that Izuku didn’t care to actually listen to.

“And how does your organization suggest the Commission begin combating these issues?”

The camera is quick to pan back to you with your perfect smile, teeth striking and bright and dazzling. The man watching from his oversized office and overstuffed chair clenches his fist watching you, uncertain if it’s annoyance or desire that fills his chest, but he doesn’t look away despite the flashing red light on his desk phone telling him he’s being paged by his assistant.

“I am personally calling upon the top heroes to do better.” Your smile doesn’t waver and the camera zooms in on your head and shoulders, allowing your next impassioned plea to land directly where you intend it to. “Deku, you claim you care, yet you are responsible for the most costly property damage caused by a hero in Japanese history. How do you explain that with that big smile plastered on your face?”

Bold of you to be taunting the man chuckling humorlessly from his desk about plastered on smiles with a high definition flat screen sized Cheshire grin of your own on your face but he appreciates the audacity.

“Be a hero instead of just talking about being one.”

Perhaps if your life’s path were different you’d be a hero just like him or maybe he’d even be you, full of righteous anger toward those who only wish to help no matter the means. Or collateral.

Without thinking, Izuku pulls his phone off of the top of his desk and his jaw slackens when he presses the little pen in the corner of the current most popular app in the app store. The speed of his thumbs is almost impressive, big hands on a little phone screen won’t stop the number one hero, and he smirks when his phone pings letting him know his post has gone live.

Deku (@fight4smiles)

Name the time and place, VOHSV. I’ll gladly drop a check by to cover some of the damage you allege I’ve been doing.

He gets to see your reaction in real time, the camera panning from you to the interviewer who grins excitedly, pressing on their in ear microphone and back. The man chuckles to himself, swinging back and forth in his chair, lips curved into a smirk.

“It appears the current number one hero has responded to your challenge. He’s willing to meet.”

Your smile droops but you’re quick to put it back in place, brows raised and head nodding wildly. The adversarial relationship between the two of you is nothing new, Deku having spent the better part of this entire year ducking and dodging your direct invitations to speak with the VOHSV.

He watches you smack your lips together and purse them, primly placing your hands in your lap and laughter comes easily. It’s no big deal to him to cut a check to help put some buildings back together, the many zeros on the end of his bank balance just one of the many perks of being at the top but it has never been about that for him.

Deep down, he knows he’ll never change your mind about your crusade but he would love to shut you up at least for a little while.

“How brave of him to finally step up. I will be reaching out to him soon with details.”

The red light on Izuku’s desk phone continues to blink wildly and just as he leans forward to answer it, his office door opens and his assistant stares at him with disbelief with the current number two Dynamight hot on their heels, pulling his mask off of his head and gently shoving them out of the way.

The assistant scurries back to their position outside of Deku’s office as quickly as possible, allowing the men privacy.

“Why did you do that?”

Izuku looks down at his cell phone and tosses it on his desk with a relaxed shrug. He catches a glance at your pretty face one last time before shutting the TV off, tossing the remote aside and turning his attention toward Katsuki with his arms folded over his chest.

“You know that you’re giving them what they want, right? Giving these shitheads attention is just going to create more of ‘em.”

More of them - outspoken victims’ rights activists. VOHSV is simply one of many groups that have cropped up over the last several years as hero academies have continued to churn out bigger and better heroes with every graduating class. It has been a decade since Izuku and Katsuki graduated and the classes after them have only become stronger, a source of pride for both of the men, given their hefty donations to their alma mater.

Sure the battles have become bigger, spectacles to be adapted into films and documentaries later, but isn’t that what being a hero is all about? What’s left behind after you save the day, no matter who may be affected?

The heroes of today are simply doing what they’ve been taught to do and that’s save the day no matter the cost. It’s hard to hold it against them when it’s systemic and historically that has been the main reason why most advocacy groups have fallen apart but not the VOHSV. They are succeeding because they have you, coiffed to perfection and ready to take anyone you can to task, including the devilishly handsome and arrogant man topping the hero charts.

Izuku sighs, his phone buzzing persistently on the desk in front of him. It’s certainly his agent or his PR team or someone eager to scold him for what he’s done so he ignores it, sliding the little piece of metal aside.

“I’d care more if their points were valid but we both know they aren’t. I’ll cut a check, flash a smile, and hopefully make their mouthpiece look silly enough she’ll stop doing press circuits. It seems like a winning situation to me.”

Bakugou snorts, unimpressed with the answer.

“What if this backfires and you look stupid?”

Izuku’s phone continues to buzz and he opens his desk drawer, sliding the device inside rather than deal with the issue at hand. He’ll comfort everyone later, what matters the most to him right now is when you’ll be brave enough to reach out to show him your hand. Right now, he has you backed into a corner and he simply wants to watch you make your way out of it, smug that he’s the one who has you pinned there.

“Impossible. People don’t take these organizations seriously enough for me to look stupid.”

Katsuki snorts, leaning against the door frame rather than fully entering the office. He was asked to stop by earlier this week, the two of them supposed to be ironing out details to appear at a hospital opening in another part of the city, but the task has clearly been put aside for a petty online feud headed by the Beacon of Hope himself.

“I think you’re already stupid.”

Izuku offers a curt smile and nods at his friend.

“I’ll take that into consideration along with all of your other opinions, don’t worry.”

Any further argument between the two is cut short when Deku’s assistant bursts back onto the scene, peeking around the door frame.

“Uh…the VOHSV spokesperson is on the phone for you, Mr. Midoriya.”

Izuku laughs and raises his brows, shifting forward in his chair and pressing the flashing line one button indicating a call is waiting. He presses his thick finger to his lips to encourage Bakugou and his assistant to be quiet and he hits the speaker button immediately.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

It takes all of you not to toss your phone across the room at the sound of his voice through your speaker. You’re in the back of a chauffeured vehicle, phone pressed to your ear so hard you swear that your cheek and head are going to hurt later, nursing a bottle of water in your free hand.

You weren’t expecting to hear from him so soon, either.

“I figured since you are so eager and have so much to say we may as well get this over with. We have an event on Friday night and you will be forwarded the details on location and attire and we are anticipating your donation of over five million yen. It will help many who have been harmed due to your recklessness.”

The blood pulsing in his ears makes the room seem smaller, the walls caving in on him with your words. You’re so adversarial toward him, so eager to bite and nip and bat with your claws out, and he wants to know why. What happened to make you distrust people like him so much?

Remembering he’s the one who has you backed into a corner, he shifts in his chair and tents his fingers on the desk in front of him.

“I’ll have your check, don’t worry. I won’t let you look silly in front of the fourteen VOHSV supporters you have to impress.”

You scoff incredulously. There is something seriously wrong with this man, his arrogance blinding his common sense. Your fingers ache where they grip into the metal sides of your phone and the driver keeps shifting his gaze from the road to the mirror to see your face twist into varying degrees of frustration and anger. Taking a deep breath, you let your lips curve into a smile and narrow your eyes.

Focus. You have him where you want him.

“I didn’t realize this conversation was meant for stooping to petty insults but I can’t say I’m shocked. It’s hardly a surprise you refuse to take anyone else’s safety given your own personal record of injured civilians while you’re handling villain attacks.”

Bakugou’s jaw drops and Izuku leans forward to lift the phone from its cradle, pressing the button to turn it off speaker at near record speed. It takes all of his self control to keep from snapping the cord in two knowing it would effectively end the call and thus his opportunity to antagonize you further.

“Well, you aren’t the only one who has done their homework. We pulled a profile on you months ago and know your entire background. You have no relevant experience that would allow you to criticize heroes the way that you do. Put yourself in our shoes.”

You snort from the other end of the phone, impressed by how bad he is at lying. Arrogance has truly won out over any logic this man may have in his entire body and you suck your teeth, jaw slackening because you have truly won this round.

“See, Deku, here’s the thing. If you were telling the truth about anything you just said then you would already know that I am a graduate of an international hero academy. I have been where you are, or at least wanted to be, but then I came to my senses. I used to hope you’d be able to do the same but it appears my faith was misplaced.”

Now Izuku’s jaw drops, his emerald eyes darting across the room as though the words he needs will magically spring forth from the walls. Sadly, nothing happens and he sits there with his mouth agape dumbly.

“I look forward to seeing you on Friday. Don’t forget that check.”

You pull the phone from your ear and end the call, laughing to yourself knowing that you left this cocky asshole speechless. He mimics your motion in his own office, pulling his desk phone from his ear and placing it back where it belongs. As badly as he wants to be frustrated by the loss to you, he’s impressed by how easily you hit back without an ounce of fear or worry of what you’re getting yourself into.

A woman as beautiful as she is brave and irritating.

He feels his cock stiffen slightly in his sweatpants the longer he thinks about it and frowns, immediately thinking of exploding buildings and grandmas to distance himself from the fact he’s into how eagerly you spar with him.

His assistant and Bakugou both stare at him, his friend laughing and turning on his heel to leave, waving dismissively.

“Like I said Deku, you’re already stupid. Have fun on Friday.”

Izuku’s assistant follows suit and closes the door behind them, giving him time to lick his wounds.

The rest of the week continues like his weeks usually do. He’s called four times to handle villain attacks, each one ending a little less destructive than the last, and Thursday is when he sees you on TV again, smiling brightly on a different talk show in the same time slot you were in on Monday.

He keeps the TV muted, uninterested in what you have to say about the people he saved this week, but he watches your mouth move silently. His eyes narrow every time your tongue darts out, the tip of it wetting your bottom lip and his freckled cheeks heat when your lips twist into that winning smile.

That damned smile.

This man has made bringing smiles to faces his entire personality since the day he zipped up his prototype suit years ago, vowing on that day to work as hard as he could no matter how bleak things seemed. It worked and it’s what he’s known for, joy and hope and safety the things he strives for the most.

Watching you smile while calling his character into question makes him simultaneously furious and hard again and he has to cross his legs and imagine those same exploding buildings when you press your lips together on the screen in front of him.

A knock on the office door captures his attention and his assistant opens the door, clipboard in hand.

“You have a tux fitting for tomorrow.”

Reaching for the remote he turns his TV off and rises with a nod. Everyone knows you have to look your very best for your biggest battles and he has no intention of showing up to meet you face to face looking like anything less than a magazine cover.

He just never imagined you’d do the same yet here you stand, 8 pm on Friday night, draped in dazzling gold silk that hugs every inch of your body. You’re taller than he expected, one long leg jutting from the slit in your dress and elegant neck draped in simple jewelry.

You’re beautiful in a way that TV did little to capture and the arrogant man finds himself speechless when you hold out your hand in his direction, grinning at him. He searches for hidden fangs and finds none, just perfect pretty teeth.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier this week, this organization is my passion and it gets the best of me sometimes.”

Your words catch him off guard so he just nods and shakes your hand. If you notice his sweaty palm you keep it to yourself and he internally chides himself for his nerves. He is the fucking number one hero, his face is plastered on every single corner of Japan, and he needs to remember that.

“Hey, we all have bad days. I’m just glad to be here to shed some light on a small cause.”

Your smile dims and his widens, your palm quickly leaving his. Heat simmers in your core and you feel disgusted by your own desire. Sure, he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen - all big muscles that his tuxedo does little to hide and pretty green waves falling over his face but he’s also the biggest asshole you’ve had the unfortunate luck of meeting.

Drawing your hands close to your body, you fight the urge to petulantly fold your arms over your chest, and he digs in his pocket to produce the check he promised. He holds it out in your direction and you pluck it from his hand, eyes widening when you notice that the amount written on the check is far larger than the five million yen previously discussed.

“Doubled your donation. Very kind of you, Deku.”

He smirks and you feel warm again, cheeks heating in perfect time with your core. Perhaps it’s the glass of champagne you downed an hour ago to calm your nerves or the low lighting of the event space but he is undeniably attractive and you are undeniably attracted to him.

A terrible realization to come to while face to face with a man you called a liar and a fraud four short days ago.

Izuku enters your space and crowds around you, dipping his head low enough that his mouth is just above your ear. He’s bigger than you expected, an entire head taller than you, and you feel overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne and the way he carries himself. He has the demeanor of a man who knows he’s the shit and as much as it aggravates you, it thrills you too, the same heat lashing through your stomach with every flutter of his long lashes.

“Call me an optimist but I think we can still salvage a friendship out of this situation.”

You laugh, shaking your head and clutching the check he provided to your chest.

“There’s an after party starting soon if you don’t have more buildings to go destroy. I’m sure the rest of the VOHSV team would love to thank you personally for your generous donation.”

The hero presses his lips together and raises his brow, blazing green eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is so thick that even the most unaware onlooker would feel it but the room is relatively empty and you’re grateful for it.

“Maybe I only want one person to thank me for my donation.”

Raising a brow to match his, you purse your lips and quickly consider your options. You could give in to the undeniable attraction, a sordid affair with a man you seek to change as part of your life’s work couldn’t possibly be good for optics if you were to be exposed. You could walk away and publicly embarrass him but that doesn’t sound like fun either so you do what you do best - think on your feet and hide your true intentions behind big doe eyes and a winning smile.

“There’s a powder room down that hall, last door on the right,” you motion to a corridor to your left and his eyes follow your movements. “Be there in ten minutes.”

Izuku nods, moving enough to allow you to slip past him and he watches the way your dress shifts across your ass with each step you take away from him. He isn’t going to bother to be polite anymore knowing what is coming next, his mouth watering at the mere thought of watching that pretty little dress drop to the ground below both of your feet while he uncovers the treasure beneath it.

His half hard cock presses against the zipper of his tuxedo pants and he doesn’t bother to adjust himself, taking a shortcut that keeps him against the wall and away from prying eyes to the hallway you instructed him to follow. Each step makes his cock throb and he groans when he reaches for the door handle, wondering what he’ll find when he opens it.

Twisting the handle, he chuckles humorlessly when his eyes fall upon an empty powder room. A large mirror framed by lights with a small sink and counter in front of it are all he finds and he shakes his head, eyes falling upon a folded piece of paper sitting on the counter.

Flicking the paper open with his thumb and index finger, he frowns at the words he reads first.

Better luck next time.

Followed by your name signed in delicate penmanship he traces the tip of his thumb over. The ink is still wet and it smears, his thumb marked with black. His eyes trail further down the note and spot your number below your name, the ink the digits were written in still shining.

At least you leaving your number tells him there will certainly be a next time.

#deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #kendall writes

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casasupernovas · 2 years

Text

so many harry potter fans completely erase snape's past and write it over to make him a snobby rich kid who speaks like he's a 40 year old count and i think it is so interesting.

because it proves to me that the reality of snape being a kid living in a poverty stricken and abusive household on spinner's end makes you all uncomfortable.

i sure know it made me uncomfortable to re-read the books for the first time and see all the comments about his greasy hair and sallow skin with the new knowledge that these were markers of his poor upbringing. we've heard the saying how being poor never really goes away. snape keeping these two markers as an adult is the author's way of doing it. he's an adult with a better income now but he never quite shakes off spinner's end.

he also stays there as an adult as a way to punish himself, if the front room described as a 'padded cell" is any indicator. he can't move on and he won't allow himself to, and dumbledore won't allow it either. it is he who twists the knife with harry's eyes and tells him this is the only thing he can do to prove he truly loved lily. despite you know, dumbledore apparently not believing this due to his shock at snape's patronus 17 years later.

both times in snape's past when he butts heads with petunia is because she insults his background, something he cannot control. she calls him the 'snape boy' from spinner's end, a clearly 'turn up my nose' moment. harry goes through most books referring to snape as 'snape' because snape is a bully and therefore does not have harry's respect. many times adults correct him to say professor. and his first name isn't said often. so this puts a distance to him, almost others him to this 2D character. but 'snape' is an actual person, with feelings and a past, present and future. so severus snape doesn't take kindly to people insulting his family which is why he claps back at petunia.

we also know snape is a muggle name, his muggle father tobias' name. we only find out in book 6 that snape is a half blood. because what wizarding family do you know with the name 'snape'. and prince isn't part of the sacred 28 either. when harry breaks into snape's memories accidentally in occlumency, seeing those three quick snapshots of his life, it's the first time snape starts to become a real person to harry.

moreover, 8 year old snape is described as dirty, unwashed, wearing clothes that are so mismatched it looks deliberate. he hasn't got clothes of his own, wearing an adults jacket and a woman's smock. snape's family either cannot afford to properly clothe or wash their child or they simply don't care too. when petunia insults him again, this time instead of his father she goes for his mother, as she points out snape wearing his mother's blouse, we get another example of underage magic as he causes a tree branch to fall on her.

now despite this, we know it is likely snape really did want to cause her harm due to her insult. snape already is shown to have poor social skills and snaps rather quickly at any point of animosity, but he was also raised in an abusive household. his father whipped him, and shouted at his mother and god knows what else. makes sense that an 8 year old responds to tension with either insults or violence, mirroring his home. snape is also very reluctant to talk about his homelife at all, ending the conversation very pointedly with "he doesn't like anything much." so it's not surprising that a child raised in this kind of environment would respond violently. even worse, he does it without really realising what he has done considering he looked confused when petunia and lily ran away.

on platform 9 and 3/4, snape is eager to get out of his muggle clothes and when put next to james potter, the stark difference between someone who has been loved and adored and someone who hasn't is explicitly put in the books. and lastly when snape calls lily a mudblood after being yanked upside down exposing dirty underwear, lily points that out. her way of saying 'don't you dare say you are better than me - im filthy? how about you wash your clothes.'

all in all, i think the fans write over this backstory because people do not want to give snape any sympathy. he's not the right kind of sympathetic character. he's an unpleasant adult who made terrible decisions. therefore his tragedy doesn't count. it's much easier to hate him when in your head, snape is a rich, snobby supremacist, rather than a penniless, neglected and woefully misguided teenager.

odd that peope can understand the impact of certain characters childhoods like sirius, regulus, draco or harry and how it affected their actions as teens and later adults...

but not snape.

in fact, snape is probably the poorest character in the entire series apart from maybe voldemort, although the orphanage didn't seem underfunded or anything. fans characterise lupin as poor but there is little evidence for him being poor as a child, more as an adult. i've seen people say this was because of the fact that his father worked at the ministry and arthur weasley worked there and he is not rich but the weasley's are poor because there are 7 of them living on one income. and we can assume lupin's muggle mother worked. if anything, lupin's childhood was comfortable but became unstable due to them constantly moving after he was bitten.

and that's pretty much it, we don't know too much about anyone else. the dursleys are middle class as are hemrione's dentist parents and while the weasley's are poor, they are not poverty stricken - ron never goes hungry. snape also never really adresses his muggle past either. he doesnt bring it up ever. for all his 'life is unfair', he never speaks about that part of his life, choosing to solely reference the marauders. and the two main bullies, james and sirius both being rich kids bullying the poor boy is not lost on me. especially when they constantly reference his greasy hair all the time.

poverty greatly affects a person well into adulthood and we see with snape; it never really goes away. sure he's well spoken now, and doesn't wear mismatched muggle clothing but the remnants are still there. in fact, one of the reasons he hates harry intially is because he thinks the boy has been pampered. quite unlike his upbringing. so i think it's telling how many people refuse to acknowledge its very existence or the how it shaped snape as a person.

because i think it all makes you feel really uncomfortable. why else would you ignore or completely erase it?

#harry potter #severus snape #pro snape #snapedom

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juanbodyswapstfs · 11 months

Text

On the run

story suggestion from @tfbodyswap

Carlos was a man on the run. He had the special ability of shapeshift. He used his powers to satisfy his lust. Turning into big men he sees at the gym, or an attractive man at the Pool. One day, he made a stop at a gas station to take a leak. He unbuttoned his pants and pissed in one of the urinals. Next to him, was a mysterious man looking straight at him. “What you looking at man? got a problem?” Carlos said in a stern tone. “I know what powers you possess and I know that you are using them to do horrible things.” The mysterious man said. “I don’t know what your talking about old man.” Carlos said nervously. He then buttoned up his pants and left in a hurry, before he left the restroom the Man said, “Soon, people will know about your lustful sins.” Carlos walked on the street looking at all the men he would love to change into and play with their body. Carlos was at a crossroad when he spotted a cop looking at him. Carlos then hurried which caused the cop to chase him. He ran into a Mens store and went into the changing room, he spotted a man in a stall and crawled under to him. “Hey what are you doing man?” The man said. “Listen, im going to need a huge favor.” Carlos said desperately. “What do you want man?” The man in the stall said. “I need your underwear please.” Carlos said. “Wait what?” The man said before Carlos grabbed his underwear and wore them. When Carlos put on the underwear he felt his underwear get drenched in sperm from the transformation.

As soon as he transformed, Carlos grabbed the underwear he was wearing before and forced the Man to put in on. As the man put on the underwear Carlos sent a serge into the Man and turned him into Carlos.

The Cops were already in the store searching for Carlos. “The cops are searching for you Carlos you better run.” Carlos said. “What did you do to me? I have a family!” The Man said panicking. “Get out of here before I tell them your here.” Carlos said. The Man ran away with the cops chasing after him. Carlos searched his pockets and found keys to his new car and found his Id, His name is Scott Williams. Carlos drove to the address on the wallet which he hoped is his new house. When Carlos arrived his “Son” about 20 years old greeted him. “Hey Dad, Mom still isn’t coming back until next week want to sit down and watch the game tonight?” His son said. “Sure bud! let me just shower real quick.” Carlos said. Carlos headed to the restroom and dropped his jeans. He quickly jerked off and ejaculated all over the mirror. Carlos heard a creek coming from outside the door, he saw his son peeking through a crack in the door. “Want some of this son?” Carlos said in a way that nobody could resist. His Son opened the door nude and got down on his knees and sucked his dads Big manly dick. “Oh yeah boy suck it.” He ejaculated for the third time. They took it to the shower fucking while the hot steamy water poured on them. His other son entered the restroom and joined in. Carlos continued this with his Boys until his “Wife” came home from visiting her sister. Carlos really enjoys being a Father and tormenting his family.

Please message me any recommendations you have! ❤️

#bodyswap #himbotransformation #hunktransformation #male body swap #male tf #male transformation #malebodypossesion #bodyswitch #m2m transformation

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princessviana · 24 days

Text

Inkbound

CHAPTER 2

Pairings:

Yandere Taehyung x OC × Yandere Jungkook

Warning: This story is a work of fanfiction and is purely a product of the author's imagination. It does not depict any real-life events or individuals. While some characters may be inspired by real-life idols, their portrayal in this story is fictional and not representative of their true selves. Please note that this story may contain triggering content, including themes of abuse, gore, murder, humiliation, bullying, rape, and other mature and dark themes. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those under the age of 18. If you are uncomfortable with such content, it is recommended to refrain from reading and kindly disregard this story.

Fae's pov.

Where on earth am I and how the hell did I end up here?! This questions has been repeating in my mind for what feels like the hundredth time. I find myself lost in a seemingly endless maze of hallways, each one identical to the last, lined with countless doors. I've been wandering for hours, yet I'm no closer to finding the exit. My sense of freedom feels as elusive as ever.

I really want to see my family.

Suddenly, I overhear a group of maids conversing in hushed, panicked tones. The name "Yana" floats through the air, causing me to pause.

Yana?

Earlier, I heard the name Jungkook, and now Yana? These names sound eerily familiar, like the characters from a book I once read. But I shake the thought away. I need to focus on finding a way out of here.

As the sound of quick, hurried footsteps echo through the hallway, I panic and bolt towards the nearest door. Thankfully, it's unlocked. I slip inside and slam the door shut behind me, breathing a sigh of relief as the footsteps recede into the distance.

Suddenly, a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence, "What are you doing here?"

I flinched and whirl around in fear and find myself face-to-face with him.Again.

"You!" I exclaim, my eyes locking with the handsome, yet intimidating man I had encountered earlier in the hallway. He's lounging on a king-sized bed, dressed in a black robe that reveals a hint of his chest as he leans back casually.

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. It's not the first time I've seen a man dressed in such a way, but something about him makes my skin tingle with heat. I quickly shake the thought away, reminding myself that I need to focus on escaping, not drooling on the man in front of me.

"I asked you a question, didn't I, Yana?" His voice, deep and alluring, pulls me back from my thoughts.

"I–um actually–I," I stutter badly and I don't know why I am being like this.I mentally scolded myself for my lack of composure.

"I WHAT? CAN YOU STOP STUTTERING!?" He suddenly shouts, causing me to flinch, he suddenly stood up and in an instant, he's standing before me. I attempt to open the door to escape, but he slams it shut again, causing me to squeak in surprise.

"Please – I was just looking for the exit," I manage to whisper, my gaze falling to the floor.

Silence fills the room before he finally speaks, "Are you fucking kidding me?" His harsh words cause me to flinch and I close my eyes in fear. I miss my brother, Jae. This man is terrifying.

"C–can you just let me go! I really want to go!" I summon the courage to shout at him, immediately regretting it when I see the murderous look in his eyes and I swear I see his eyes turned even more darker.

"Did you just fucking yell at me?" He asks quietly, his deep voice sending chills down my spine. He grasps my arms tightly, causing me to hiss in pain. I try to push him away as I put my hands in his chest as I attempted to get some distance from him, tears welling up in my eyes from the pain of his tight grip.

"Mister! You're hurting me!" I cry out in distress, tears now streaming down my cheeks. He looks at me blankly, seemingly uncaring of my pain.

He finally releases his grip, scoffing, "Mister, huh?" He laughs, a dark, chilling sound that sends a shiver down my spine. I quickly distance myself from him, confusion and fear swirling within me.

'What's wrong with him?Does he have anger issues or something?'

"Where did Honey go?" He asks suddenly that made me look at him again, his voice cold and detached.

I frowned at that before sighing in frustration.

'What in the world was he talking about?'

"You're not my lover to be called like that!" I shout back, taken aback by his question.

...

We suddenly fall into an awkward silence and I don't know if I said something bad or what,as he just look at me blankly and it's really uncomfortable as he only stared at me blankly.

"Get out," he finally orders, walking away from the door and disappearing into what I assume is his bathroom. I seize the opportunity to escape the room,away from this crazy man, once again finding myself lost in the maze of hallways.

Author's perspective

As the man hears the slam of his bedroom door, he sighs, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He frowns, thinking back to the interaction with the woman. Shaking his head, he chuckles quietly to himself, unties his bathrobe, and steps into his bathtub. His mind is still consumed by the thoughts of her.

"What's happening with you again?" He murmurs to himself, closing his eyes.

Minutes pass, but he finds himself growing increasingly agitated. He recalls her shouting at him for the first time. Despite the times he had hurt or yelled at her, she had never once raised her voice at him. This sudden change in her behavior leaves him feeling restless, a feeling he doesn't particularly enjoy.

"God damn it! Get it out of your head! It's just a yell and it made you restless!" He scolds himself, gritting his teeth.

Why is he so affected by a simple change in a woman's attitude?

No, he convinces himself, it's just because he's not used to it. He groans, running his fingers through his wet hair.

Meanwhile, Fae finally breathes a sigh of relief when she spots a staircase leading down to what she assumes is a living room. She can't help but giggle in joy, relief washing over her. She's finally found a way out of this strange house.

Just as she's about to descend the stairs, she overhears a conversation that stops her in her tracks. She turns to see the same man from earlier, the one who had nearly choked her, talking to a girl she doesn't recognize.

"Nara, please stay. She won't hurt you anymore, I promise, okay?"

'Nara? Again? Another name from the book?!'

"But, Jungkook, I'm scared. What if she will hurt–" The girl's words trail off as her gaze lands on Fae, who is standing on the stairs. The girl gasps and hides behind Jungkook.

Jungkook follows her gaze and locks eyes with Fae, who is frozen on the stairs. Fae breaks their gaze and continues her descent, heading towards the front door, completely ignoring them.

Jungkook frowns, watching as Fae disappears outside through the door.This behavior is unusual for her. She would normally become furious if she caught him talking to Nara. This change leaves him feeling perplexed but shrugged it off as he again face the scared woman and embrace her.

...

Meanwhile, Fae continued her sprint towards what she perceived as freedom. The sight of the magnificent golden gates filled her with delight, and a joyous laugh escaped from her lips as she relished the feeling of liberation. Finally, she thought, running at full speed towards the gates.

But just as she was about to touch the gates, she found herself being lifted off her feet, swept into the air that made her shout suddenly in startlement,panic surged within her as she closed her eyes and silently pleaded for the person to let her go, her body tense. Strong arms was wrapped around her waist, setting her back on her feet, away from the gates.Turning her head and glaring at the man responsible for stopping her, she got awestruck suddenly when she sees a handsome man closed to her and it suddenly vanished her anger as the man grinned at her with such a beautiful smile.

"Can we talk, Yana?" he asked suddenly that made her snap out of her staring to the man, his words now causing her to frown as she came to a standstill, halting her resistance.

'what did he call me?'

"I'm not Yana!" she retorted forcefully, watching as he blinked a couple of times before mumbling something under his breath.

"So, they were telling the truth," he muttered, causing her to question what he meant, while still trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Let's go. I know Uncle is looking for you," he said, his tone turning cold as he dragged her towards the mansion once again, her protests falling on deaf ears.

Reluctantly, Fae allowed herself to be pulled along, feeling the weight of resignation settle upon her.

Then the next she found herself in a living room surrounded by eight unknown people, their glaring eyes making her feel small and insignificant.

Intimidated, she lowered her gaze, avoiding their piercing stares.

"Yana."

Then, a raspy voice rang out, calling the name Yana again. Fae again looked up, her brows furrowing as she met the gaze of the man who had spoken.

"Are you calling me Yana?" she asked, her fear and confusion evident.

'Yana? Why are they calling me that? Wait – no! That's absurd! Realization dawned on her suddenly, bringing with it a wave of absurdity that was difficult for her to comprehend.

Jungkook, then Nara, and now Yana?

This couldn't be a coincidence any longer. Fae's mind swirled with fear, unable to fully grasp the unfolding events.

No, this is absurd! she thought to herself, fear gripping her as she struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Who else here goes by the name Yana?" a deep mocking voice interrupted her thoughts, prompting her to look at the man who suddenly speaks.

' him again?'

Wait! If Jungkook was the man to the left, then who was this other man? A sudden chill ran down her spine as she hastily scrambled away from him, retreating until her back was pressed against the far end of the plush couch. The man looked at her, his expression one of confusion, mirroring the baffled looks of everyone else in the room.

"Yana, I've been informed about your recent actions. Is it true?" The older man who had addressed her earlier, presumably in his 50s, asked again, his eyes filled with concern.

"What do you mean by that?" Fae questioned, her tone laced with distress, which only seemed to annoy the man.

A scoff from the left drew her attention back to Jungkook, who was glaring at her, leaning back in his chair with his arms and legs crossed. "What's your problem, huh?" Fae retorted, her irritation evident in her voice. This caused a ripple of shock to spread through the room, especially amongst the two younger men.

'What's with them? Is this the first time they've heard a woman speak up? Because right now, I'm guessing it is.' Fae thought, rolling her eyes at them before returning her glare to Jungkook, who was now clenching his jaw and glaring back even more intensely. Their staring contest was interrupted when the older man cleared his throat, effectively drawing everyone's attention.

"Yana, this is the last time I will tolerate your reckless behavior! I'll let it slide this time!" He declared, standing up and swiftly exiting the room, followed by two other men. This left only six of them in the room: herself, the two men she had met earlier, and the man who had dragged her here.

"What's going on with you, Yana? Is this another—" The man who had brought her here attempted to break the silence, only to be cut off by a single glare from her.

"Don't call me that!" Fae yelled furiously, standing up as she was overcome with confusion and frustration. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and unable to hold them back any longer, she broke down crying in front of the five men.

"Hey! What did you do to noona!?" Suddenly, a young boy burst into the living room upon hearing the sound of a girl crying. He was met with the sight of Fae in tears, while the men could only exchange helpless looks, unsure of what to do next.

Taehyung, on the other hand, scoffed in disbelief, assuming that this was just another one of her tactics to gain sympathy. He stood up and left the room, followed by Jungkook, leaving the girl crying on the couch. Everyone else also departed, except for the young boy who hugged the weeping woman tightly, their minds filled with the assumption that she, whom they believed to be Yana, was once again trying to manipulate them into pitying her and taking her side.

As minutes passed, Fae gradually calmed down, thanks to the comforting presence of the boy who refused to let go of her. She lifted her head to look at him, and he offered her a white towel to wipe away her tears. Gratefully, she accepted it and smiled at the boy with all her heart.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, noona. But why were you crying again?" the boy innocently asked, tilting his head in confusion. Fae sighed and shook her head, unsure of how to explain that she felt like she was trapped in a story or perhaps even a dream. She hoped desperately that she would wake up from this ordeal soon, as being here felt like being in a living hell. She could sense the pain and sadness that consumed the person she assumed was Yana,that she was in, both physically and mentally.

"What's your name, little guy?" Fae asked, diverting the conversation.

The boy looked at her with surprise but answered, "I'm Kim Taehoon, noona. Do you really not remember us?"

Fae's breath caught in her throat.

'Kim Taehyung's little brother... So, I really am in a book?!' she thought, still in shock at what was happening. She sighed and nodded her head.

'If I'm really here, then I am Yana?'

"What's my name again?" Fae asked, seeking confirmation.

"You're Yana," Taehoon answered, grinning at her.

'Oh God! Wait... If I was her, then I can finally change that woman's fate!' Fae suddenly stood up, a plan brewing in her mind. She smiled widely and laughed to herself, leaving Taehoon wide-eyed as he watched her grinning at something in the distance, which turned out to be a large vase of flowers.

"What's so funny about those flowers?" Taehoon scratched his head, perplexed, before looking back at Fae, who was still lost in her thoughts, staring at the vase with a grin.

Meanwhile, Fae was busy planning her stay in this dream, if that's indeed what it was. She was still waiting to wake up, aware of the danger that lurked within the pages of this book, especially with those two individuals. She looked down at the boy again and sat down, holding Taehoon's little hands in hers. Taehoon smiled sweetly at her.

'Kim Taehoon, the child character of the book. He was accidentally shot by Yana when she and Nara were fighting in this very living room. Yana accidentally fired the gun, and poor Taehoon got caught in the crossfire. But this time, I promise you'll live. But first, I need to know what this girl did to end up in this state again.'

"Can I ask you something, Taehoon?" Fae spoke softly, and Taehoon nodded.

"Um, you see, I'm still experiencing memory loss or something. Can you tell me what I did before I... you know, before I had this memory loss?"

Taehoon looked away for a moment before clearing his throat, ready to share what she needed to know.

"The whole family except your father,attended a party celebration. While we were there, you followed Nara noona to the restroom upstairs. We heard you arguing, and then we saw you both pulling each other's hair. You tripped and fell down the stairs, but luckily, the stairs weren't very high."

Taehoon's voice carried a hint of sadness.

'So, the party was organized by the Parks. This is the event that leads to her downfall, where she gets framed by Nara. That b*tch... Let's see who becomes the villain now,'Fae thought, internally smirking as she stood up.

"You should go, Taehoon. Your tutor will be here soon—"

Just as she was about to finish her sentence, the door swung open, and a tall, well-built man in a white polo shirt and black pants entered, wearing glasses. Fae found herself drooling over this angelic figure, and the man smiled as his eyes landed on the two of them, revealing his dimples. Fae internally squealed in delight.

Kim Namjoon.

Fae smirked, recognizing the character from the dimples on his handsome face.

'Kim Namjoon, Kim Taehoon's genius tutor. He's secretly in love with Yana, but she chases after the wrong guys, those two psychos. Why chase after them when there's someone better? This man has been silently loving Yana and helping her whenever she's in need. When she discovered his love for her, she used it for her own gain, dragging him down along with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, and the four other men to kill her in the end.'

"Long time no see, beautiful," Namjoon greeted her with a compliment, his deep voice making her blush. He relished in the sight of her blushing, feeling complete as the beautiful woman before him reacted to his words,for the first time.

"Nice to see you too, Joonie," Fae smirked, using the nickname she had given him when she was reading the book. Namjoon widened his eyes in shock, blushing even more than she did. He couldn't believe that the woman he had secretly loved had given him a nickname.

'Kim Namjoon, nice to finally meet you,' Fae thought, her smirk growing wider.

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bookofbonbon · 2 years

Text

gif credit: @damatheirin (X)

pairing: Osferth x Reader.

warnings: None.

word count: 757.

a/n: Finally getting around to the Osferth requests!! One of the five prompts sent in by the same anon from the celebration prompt requests I did a couple of weeks ago - I’m breaking some of them up (like this one) into seperate fics.

You stand at the end of the dock, looking out across the vast ocean that spans as far as your eyes can see. The water ahead eerily still, the only indication of its movement being the boats rocking every now and then from where they’re anchored beside the dock.

You play with the cross around your neck, sliding the pendent along its string anxiously. You had arrived in Runcorn almost 3 months ago, your family passing through on the way to Mercia. It was only meant to be a short stay but, you hadn’t expected to run into someone very dear to you from your past – your beloved Osferth.

A few nights after docking, when your family was prepared to carry on in their journey to Mercia and you were faced with a decision – stay with Osferth or leave with your family, unsure if you would ever see him again. You chose the former. The novelty of being reunited and in each other’s arms initially strong but, beginning to wear off and now, you were faced with wondering if you had made the right choice.

The sound of your name being called from behind you pulls you from your thoughts and, you turn towards the voice of your beloved, Osferth. His tall, lithe figure jogging towards you at the end of the long dock.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing out here?” he calls when he gets closer, a heavy woollen cloak in his hand. “Each night grows colder than the last, you should not be out here and by the water of all places.”

You allow him to fuss over you, bringing the cloak around your shoulders and tying the strings for you. You say nothing, allowing yourself to take in his features. Of course, you were always afforded the privilege of being so close to him but, under the moon’s light, he appeared ethereal and other worldly. How much he had grown and changed not only in looks but, in who he was.

Osferth’s hands pause from where they fix the cloak, noticing the spaced-out look in in your eyes. Calling your name softly, he places a hand on your cheek to bring your focus back to him.

“Hm?” you smile gently at him.

“Hm?” he repeats mockingly, endearingly but, concern evident in his eyes.

You had been acting strange lately, slowly shutting him out and, he couldn’t figure out why – his increasing worry causing him to lose sleep as thoughts of losing you plagued his mind.

“What is it? What’s going on in that head of yours?” he whispers.

“I-,” you hesitate, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Please, tell me,” he pleads, searching your eyes desperately, his thumb caressing the soft skin of your cheek.

“You have…” your mouth opens then closes, trying to find the right words. “The longer I am here, the more I am realising that you are so different to the last time we were together… You have grown and changed-”

A worried looks becomes Osferth, his hand falling from your face at the words coming from your mouth and the very real possibility that maybe you didn’t love him as much as he loves you anymore but, you’re quick to reassure him.

“In a good way!” you rectify, taking his hand in yours and squeezing. “You have changed and matured; a man grown compared to the boy I once knew that I- I guess I just… I worry that perhaps with all these changes there may not be room for me in this new life you live.”

Silence hangs in the air between the two of you as Osferth processes your words, the silence broken only by his soft laugh.

You furrow your eyebrows, looking at your beloved in bewilderment.

“What is so funny?” you demand, unable to stop the small smile that pulls at your lips.

“Oh, my sweet love,” Osferth grins, gathering you in his arms and touching his forehead to yours. “You are the blood in my veins, the air in my lungs and the beat of my heart. So long as I live, there will always be room in my life for you.”

Your heart skips a beat, tears welling in your eyes at his words as an embarrassed groan leaves your lips that you would ever doubt his love for you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff.

Osferth shakes his head, wiping at the tears that fall when you blink.

“Do not be sorry. Just come back inside, my love.”

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#osferth tlk #osferth #osferth x reader #osferth imagine #osferth the last kingdom #the last kindom fanfic #osferth fanfic

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ao-nungg · 1 year

Text

love at first sight

✦ pairing ⨾ neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

✦ warnings ⨾ seizure attack, fluff, make out sheesh

✦ word count ⨾ 2.5k

neteyam sully. you really love that boy so much

a/n : italic will be the sign language! you may listen to the song linked while reading this oneshot ♡

> masterlist

neteyam. as far as you could remember his name, that’s the blue na’vi you’re looking at right now from your pod. it seems like he and his siblings are heading back to their marui after their swimming lessons.

the omatikaya family arrived at the metkayina village around 3 days ago for seeking uturu. after the chief let them live here, tsireya the chief’s daughter and her brother have been teaching the sullys kids the way of reef people.

you sometimes enjoy watching them learning from distant. since they arrived you couldn’t help but to keep your eyes on the eldest son of the sully. in your eyes he’s the most beautiful and seems really kind.

your eyes widened when his eyes landed on you for the first time. he smile at you and look away before you could even return it. blood rushed to your face by the small and simple gestures he gave you.

“y/n, here take this and give it to our new neighbors. I already told neytiri I’ll cook this for her family today” your mom said, handing you the bowl of food which will be given to the sullys. you live only a few pods away from them. neytiri and your mother have been a good friend since your mom encounter her in the first place.

you nodded, fixing you hair before heading to their pod with the bowl. their youngest daughter came in running to your direction since she was being chased by her brother, neteyam. fortunately you’re quick to realize it and able to keep your balance.

“tuk careful!” neteyam shouted when he realized his little sister was about to hit someone. tuk halted but bumped into you a little bit. she immediately apologized and ran to neteyam’s side. “I’m so sorry about that” neteyam apologized, looking at you and he got mesmerized by your doe blue eyes.

you gave him a smile and shook your head. “it’s okay, she doesn’t cause any trouble. tuk.. right?” you assure neteyam and asked the little girl after remembering her name since neytiri once used to introduce her kids name to both you and your mother.

tuk that was hiding behind neteyam peek out her head to look at you by the mention of her name and nodded eventually.

“by the way, my mom cook something for you guys. she would like for your family to try it” you finally start with the real intention you came to their pod. neteyam was taken aback a bit since he doesn’t expect it at all. he thought the clan members don’t like his family and don’t even care about them, but his guess was proven wrong today.

“oh.. thank you” he thanked you and take the bowl you’re handing him. his warm fingers tips slightly brushed against yours, sending shivers down your spine.

you’re down bad for him, but he’s so clueless about it

you bid goodbye to both of them, waving your hand and giving your smile before heading back to your marui with a wide smile.

“ma eywa, what happened to my daughter?” your mother asked when she saw you smiling by yourself. “is it about neytiri eldest son?” your mom teased. you shook your head immediately and pretend to be busy by washing the dirty dishes.

—

“hey y/n!“ you’re sewing your clothes when a familiar called. you look at the entrance of your marui to see tsireya and rotxo.

“care to join us to the cove?” your eyes lit up at the mention of the cove. tsireya know how much you love being there so she decided to ask you to go along too. you nodded immediately and walked to them.

“you know I would never reject that offer”

“but we’re going with the sullys” she told you. she knows that you don’t really enjoy being around a lot of people especially strangers, that why you rejected her offer to teach the sullys a couple days ago which you kinda regret it now. “are you ok with that?” she added.

“I don’t mind, but what about them? are they ok if I join too?” you turn to look at your friends that were riding ilus by your side.

“don’t worry! I already told them that I’m bringing a friend” tsireya assured you before she leads you and rotxo to the sullys kids that were waiting in the middle of the sea.

“guys, this is my friend that I’m bringing tonight. y/n this neteyam, kiri, and tuk. there’s another one lo’ak, but he doesn’t want to join” tsireya introduced each of the sully’s while pointing at them by their names. you smiled and introduce yourself again, waving your hand at the shy tuk.

the whole ride to the cove was amusing. you swim ahead with tsireya and neteyam that always stick not far enough from you. you would exchange smile with him whenever both of you make eye contact during the journey.

“we are here” tsireya announced while entering the cove. “this is the cove of the ancestors. our most sacred place” smile crept up on the sullys siblings as they’re gazing through the huge cove.

“eclipse is the best time of day to be here” you said when you see the eclipse is setting down for today.

as the eclipse finally turn to dark, the bioluminescent of the plants and sea illuminating the whole cove. “this is it. this is the spirit tree” tsireya said while gesturing to the shining huge tree below in the water.

the sullys mouth agape at the beauty of the tree under them. you swam first and soon followed by them into the water. tsireya made a sign for them to connect their queues to the tree and they did.

after a few minutes talking to your grandma through the connection, your vision suddenly becomes blank. you opened your eyes and was greeted with kiri’s body shaking terribly. you immediately disconnected her queue and neteyam pull kiri to swim out of the water. panic began to engulf you as you swim to the surface too.

“is she breathing?” rotxo asked when neteyam brought kiri onto his ilu. “it was a seizure” neteyam said and immediately gave his sister a mouth-to-mouth breathing which made her cough, indicating that she’s still breathing. “bring her back to the village!” tsireya told him while getting on her ilu and everyone followed. you let tuk ride with you and bring her back safely.

dark turn to light and the help finally arrived. here come a na’vi and a human man from their transport. they help to treat kiri with whatever technologies they brought along. all of you loyally wait by the sully’s marui entrance for any news.

“she will be fine” you assure neteyam that was standing beside you and squeeze his shoulder a bit. you could feel how his body tensed by your sudden touch and he gave you an expression that you couldn’t read. you could hardly gulp your saliva and slowly retrieved your hand from him and muttered your apology. you didn’t mean to make him feel uncomfortable.

ronal – tsireya mother finally came to the sully’s marui to treat kiri after her mother dismissed the scientists. you were caught off guard when neteyam suddenly intertwined your fingers with his.

he squeezed your hand when kiri finally coughed and bursted into tears after being treated by the tsahik which easing everyone’s heart. you could see how neteyam also let out a relief sigh. he turn to look at you and smiled which made you return it and squeeze his hand back.

days passed, the sullys also back to their lesson along with kiri, and here you are sitting on the dock with you legs hanging out into the water. it’s your everyday habit to sit and admire the view.

without realizing, someone came and take a seat right beside you. you tilted your head and unexpectedly was greeted by no other than the eldest son. “why you didn’t join tsireya and his brother with us?” neteyam started the conversation which you understood what he’s referring to.

“I.. I don’t enjoy being around people much” you answered him and immediately deadpanned by your own answer. “I don’t mean it in that way!!” you added when you saw neteyam nodded with a blank expression. “I mean I don’t really like being around people in general! I love sitting all alone and entertain myself”

“oh.. don’t worry I understand. but if you want to, you can join us. trust me, it will be fun”

his statement made you laugh. you have a habit to cover your mouth when you laugh and obviously also hitting anyone that was sitting near you. you hit neteyam by his arm and he just chuckled along. the view in front of him now is enough to make him feel suffocated by your cuteness.

“you know I live here for my entire life and I’ve been in the water since I was a little baby”

“yeah I know, but what I mean by fun is you got to enjoy being around with us. we’re fun though” you blushed at his statement.

suddenly an idea popped up in your head. you get up on your feet and offer your hand for neteyam to take. “come on. I’m pretty sure you haven’t try this yet” neteyam gave you a confused look but eventually grab your hand before he get up and follow you.

“let’s sail!” you said when you arrive by the shore where you father park your family’s wooden boat. you get into the boat after releasing the tie and followed by neteyam. after passing one of the paddle to him, you take a seat and gesture for him to sit by the other end of the boat.

“copy my move” you instructed him and he did as you began to paddle away. luckily he’s a fast learner. “wow this is fun” neteyam was amused when the boat moved as he paddle it.

both of you stop paddling as you reach in middle of the sea.

“I know a spot. come on” you told him before jumping into the water. neteyam followed closely behind you. you smiled whenever you see how his eyes widened and his face lit up at the sight aroud him. he was mesmerized.

after a few minutes of swimming and exploring the water, you finally reach your favorite spot. it’s a little cove in the water that was filled with a few plants that neteyam never seen before.

‘they’re prettier at night time’ you signed at him which he just stare at you, confused.

‘I don’t understand’ he signed back. you smiled and sign for him to swim to the surface. “you don’t understand?” you asked when you reached the surface.

“yeah. tsireya only teach the basic moves. all I understand is night” neteyam said and make the night sign with his hands. “I said the plants are prettier at night”

“oh.. really?”

you nodded and swim away. “it’s getting late. we better head back to the village” without protesting neteyam followed you back to the boat. “I thought we gonna wait till dark” he said once both of you got on the boat.

“you want to?”

“you said the plants look prettier when its dark, so why not?” he asked you back. “sure, but maybe next time? I need to help my father with something tonight”

“next time” neteyam raised his hand which made you confused. he smiled and grabbed your hand, linking your pinky finger with his. “we just made a promise, so you can’t break it” he told you and paddle away like he didn’t just made the butterflies in your stomach exploded.

“promise..” you shyly said back and followed him to paddle back to the village.

that night you sleep with a wide smile on your face, remembering the little time you spent with neteyam today and obviously you’re looking forward for another night with him.

days passed by and you’re getting closer with each other. you even joined tsireya along with his brother and friends to help the sullys navigate the ways of reef people.

everyday after the lessons, both you and neteyam would spend time together by doing a lot things. he would tell you how his village look like and everything that he did back then in the rainforest.

sometimes both of you also went for a swim, sometimes feeding the ilu and sometimes going to the cove you showed him, or just sitting by the rock, talking.

however, you haven’t grant your promise yet to bring him to the cove at night, so you decided to show him today. you walk slowly to the shore but quickened your pace when you already saw neteyam standing by the place you asked him to wait before.

you made the greeting gesture and he return it. “swim or with the boat?”

“swim” neteyam answered you and immediately dive into the water. “wait up!” you shouted and followed behind him.

as both of you arrived at the cove you turned to look at neteyam. as expected his eyes widened with a bright grin plastered on his face. he was once again mesmerized by the beauty even if he already saw the flora and fauna a couple times.

like you said before, the cove is much prettier at night. the plants were illuminated in the water by the bioluminescent. a proud smile crept up on your face when neteyam was carefully touching the fishes and plants around him.

your giggle filled the air when both of you decided to swim back to the surface to breathe. “sevin (pretty)” neteyam said out of the blue while his eyes are fixed into yours. “I told you they’re prettier at night”

“I can’t doubt that, but you’re prettier in my eyes” neteyam blurted out, looking at everything around but your eyes. you blink a few times to make sure what you heard is right and it’s not just a dream.

you bravely inches closer towards him, making the adolescent become more nervous by your moves.

“neteyam” his eyes shut close when you said his name, he really loves to hear it rolled out from your tongue and with your cold hand placed against his warm chest almost make him purr in pleasure.

your cold fingers carefully trace the bioluminescent freckles on his face as you stare deeply into his doe yellow eyes.

“oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie” you repeat those words with sincere. “oel ngati kameie y/n” he replied with a deep voice and without wasting more time, he crashed your lips with his.

his hands made it to your waist, pulling you closer to him while the other one was resting on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. your lips are so soft against his. neteyam nibbled your bottom lip and after you gave him some access, he tucked his tongue in, exploring every bit of your mouth.

the kiss is sweet and passionate, even your mouths are molded perfectly against each other. neteyam smiled between the kiss, not believing that he finally brave enough to kiss you. he already set his eyes on you on the day you came to his marui pod to share the food your mother made.

both of you are so into the kiss and desire for more, but the lack of breath kinda ruined the kiss. neteyam slowly pulled away when he feels you hitting his chest. both of you rested your forehead against each other while panting hardly due to out of breath.

“I love you y/n” he muttered between your lips. before you could reply, neteyam goes in for another kiss.

#ailiswork #neteyam #Spotify #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #atwow imagines #atwow neteyam #atwow x reader #atwow x you #fluff #suggestive #avatar imagine #avatar #avatar the way of water #today on tumblr

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hexpea · 3 months

Text

Ch. 2 - Expected

"It was arranged," Seiko's jaw nearly fell to the floor as you finished explaining the circumstances of your first marriage.

You nodded in confirmation. "Unfortunately," you sighed. "I certainly didn't ask for it. But at this point, it seems like I'm going to need to head back to Tokyo to get Gojo to sign the damn thing...again."

Your partner sat back in their seat in thought, waves of understanding flooding their mind. They felt bad for causing such a fuss about it earlier though it was entirely warranted.

"Y/N?" Their voice was soft, their hand reaching forward to touch yours that you had resting on your knee. "What if we made it a thing? We're due for a vacation. I'll come with and we'll enjoy the sights of Tokyo. The whole divorce thing can be just a small part of the trip, no need to over-worry ourselves. We'll get it taken care of."

You thought about it for a moment, searching your mind for any downsides. A few began to populate in your mind, but Seiko was quick to interrupt. "We're getting married this time. Let's take some time to celebrate ourselves, eh?"

"You just want to go to Tokyo, don't you?" You looked at him slyly, a crooked smile on your face. Seiko had be raving about it for the past few months; you had originally (and hesitantly) been planning to have your honeymoon there.

"I do," they admitted, their smile matching yours but their gaze looking away as if they had been 'caught.' They had rarely left the small town you lived in. Seeing Tokyo in real life sounded like a dream to them.

You took a deep breath and let out a sigh. "Alright," you agreed, "let's make it a thing."

The next thing you knew, you found yourself boarding a bullet train. It was a four and half hour ride to Tokyo from Hokkaido. Unfortunately for you, this meant you had plenty of time to ruminate on your past -- the whole reason for this visit.

The train itself had faded, patterned seats, well worn from years of use. The car was quiet as passengers filed on in order and silently began putting away their luggage. The air itself smelled stale, like any other form of public transport. It was the last place you thought you'd be at that moment.

"Here are our seats," Seiko smiled at you eagerly, tugging along a suitcase.

They stuffed their suitcase in the overhead bin and helped you in getting yours up there as well. With a wordless smile, they offered you the window seat to which you obliged.

"Besides settling into our hotel, what's the first thing you want to do when we get there?" Seiko asked as the two of you now sat in the faded, plush seats of the shinkansen.

You gave them a funny look. Seiko was never one to be overly eager about going anywhere let alone planning activities. "I don't know," you answered as if each word was its own sentence, a funny yet suspicious tone in your voice. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Nothing in particular," they shrugged, causing you to furrow your brow even further. Why bring it up then?!

You shook your head and ignored your surroundings, opting to put some headphones in and stare out the window as Seiko began scrolling through their phone. Just as expected, with divorce on the brain, your mind went to that place and your heart already...ached.

The divorce was amicable. It was honestly something that had been a long time coming, almost expected, as Gojo found himself alone in his clan. He didn't seem remarkably upset about being the last of his name, his parents now both passed on -- mother preceding father. The lack of emotion had concerned you but you let it go.

Saying that your marriage didn't have love...that would be a lie and you knew it. The two of you had been childhood friends, closer than anyone could get without being family or, well, being in love. Admitting it was a different story.

Things between you two had begun to distance when Geto entered the picture as soon as you reached high school age. That, and Gojo had started taking on missions with Geto as well -- tough missions that you couldn't be a part of. You found yourself linking up with Shoko Ieiri who also mostly stayed behind, being helpful with her reversed cursed technique.

At the time, you were honestly happy about his absence. With adolescence, his personality had developed beyond repair of arrogant confidence to which he didn't hesitate to irritate you with to no end. He honestly irritated everybody one way or another, and took pleasure in it.

But there was unspoken love that grew during your time as husband and wife. The conflict had once pulled on the strings of your heart, telling you everything you needed to know of your feelings toward the Limitless sorcerer even as he asked for the divorce. But those feelings were a distant memory.

It was August, a warm, summer evening five years into your facade of a marriage. You found yourself enjoying the nightly air, the distant sound of fireworks from the summer festival humming through your ears.

You were dressed comfortably, getting ready for bed and having a cup of tea to relax. The stars were remarkably bright that night, twinkling in nearly every direction. It was in that moment you were thankful that the Gojo estate was just outside of Tokyo, no bright buildings to prevent such a beautiful sight.

Satoru had just returned from a mission, still dressed in his jujutsu uniform and dark blindfold covering his eyes. You heard him approach from the opening of the shoji screen behind you. You could hear his footsteps approach behind you as you looked up into the cosmos.

"Hey there," he purred, his voice dripping with a teasing tone as it always had as he joined you on the porch. He couldn't resist making light of the situation, even when his emotions were in a flood of conflict. You knew him well enough to expect his cocky demeanor.

You sat cross-legged while he let his legs dangle off the side, using his hands to prop himself up. He looked up with you as he greeted.

"Hi," you answered, your voice quiet after taking a sip from your tea. "How was the mission?" You asked while trying to maintain your composure in the face of his playful attitude.

"Mission? Oh, piece of cake," he said with a smug grin, leaning in closer to you. "But, you know, I'd much rather be dealing with you, Y/N. You're the real challenge." He winked, emphasizing the double meaning of his words.

There was a moment of awkward silence as he lingered longer than he usually would. He took a deep breath in preparation for his next words.

"Y/N..." you looked over at him, your wide, interested gaze causing him to rethink his decision for a split second. He tried to hide the smile that was growing from seeing your doe-eyed face. He decided he needed to hold firm; he had promised himself he'd stop postponing and tell you. "I think that we should...file for divorce."

There it was, the words you were, honestly, waiting to hear. The conflict brewing in your head made your chest hurt. The marriage was a sham. It was to produce an heir, something the two of you never did, for the Gojo clan who was now a team of one. You had to and did accept the fact that this marriage was holding both of you back.

Your silence was irking Satoru as you continued to sip from your tea. He fidgeted eagerly for your response. It was then that you realized he was waiting for something out of you.

"Okay," you responded calmly, holding back the emotions that were threatening to bust forth. "It's not like we love each other."

Satoru, though cocky and confident on the surface, felt a pang of turmoil deep within. He knew what he felt for you, even if he was hesitant to admit it to himself. The two of you were completely ignorant to one another and beyond saving. This time it was his silence that got you going. You could clearly see he was trying to read your plain expression.

"What? It doesn't have to be that sad," you added, trying to maintain some levity despite the heavy situation.

"What will you do?" Satoru asked you, his future path already decided and very clear.

You thought to yourself for a moment, ignoring the knot that had begun to form in your throat. "Hmm..." you hummed, tilting your head up and away from him to hide your dampened eyes. It was just now settling in that the arrangement was coming to a close. "I wonder what the beach looks like in the snow."

Satoru smiled at you, a mixture of relief and turmoil in his eyes, knowing that he had to let you go. "Ah, Hokkaido," he nodded. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

The two of you sat in continued silence for a few more moments. The booming of the fireworks had long stopped since his arrival. The complete silence a bit jarring from your conversation.

After a while, Satoru leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek -- the only 'affection' the two of you allowed yourselves besides in public when necessary. The only time you had ever been intimate with him outside of the occasional kiss was your wedding night, never once doing it again.

Talk about mixed signals, you thought to yourself.

He came to a stand and you looked up at him with a gentle smile before he departed. "I'll be there, any time you need me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," you nodded once, voice breaking slightly, causing your cheeks to turn red in the dark.

As Satoru left you alone on the porch, your emotions swirled like a turbulent sea. The tears that had begun as a mixture of sorrow and relief now took on a new dimension. There was a sense of betrayal that began to seep into your heart, though you couldn't quite pinpoint its source. You stared out into the night sky, the stars still shining brightly above. The sound of cicadas filled the air, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of nearby trees. The beauty of the night was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

The divorce had been inevitable, and you had known that a long time. Yet, hearing those words from Satoru still stung. It was a reminder of just how far the two of you had drifted apart over the years. As you continued to sit there, sipping your tea and gazing at the stars, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you. The prospect of being alone was both daunting and liberating. You had spent so long in a marriage of convenience and now you had the opportunity to rediscover yourself.

Your train pulled into Tokyo station in what felt like the blink of an eye. You were so lost in your thoughts that Seiko had to squeeze your hand to snap you out of your trance.

The bustling station presented a crowd of noise, announcements over the intercom for arrivals and departures, and the feeling of people rushing around you served as a reminder that you were back in the heart of the city where you had grown up.

"Wow," Seiko admired the large station as the two of you guided yourselves off of the train. "Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, your resolve firming up as the two of you began your walk out of the station. The memories of your past with Gojo had left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you were determined to close that chapter of your life for good. The strange sense of betrayal you had felt after that fateful conversation with Gojo had lingered, but it was time to move forward.

As you navigated your way through the station, you couldn't shake the anticipation of seeing your parents again. It had been far too long since you had been home and you knew that your reunion would be emotional. But duty called, and you had brought the divorce papers with you, determined to get Gojo's signature.

The Tokyo streets outside the station were familiar yet different, a testament to the passage of time. Seiko walked beside you, 'oooing' and 'ahhing' at all of the sights. Their presence provided you a bit of stability that grounded you in the present moment. As you hailed a taxi to take you to your hotel, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions -- fear, anticipation, and a newfound determination to finally put an end to the chapter of your life that had been marked by a love that had never fully bloomed.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojou x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #satoru gojou

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batofburnside · 4 months

Text

"Tell Me" Part 3

Gekko x (Fem!)Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi everyone! This is the third part of my first Gekko fanfic and my first fanfic posted on tumblr. I just posted part 2 at the same time, so I'm excited and nervous to see what y'all think so far. I really enjoyed writing these. Like last parts, I used google translate for most of the Spanish that wasn’t just a few words so I apologize if anything gets lost in translation, I am not fluent. Words: 8.0K

TW: Character Death, Guns, angst, (kinda?) manipulation, Kidnapping, Blood

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mateo sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal while resting his head on his hand. He was exhausted. Not being able to fall back asleep, he sent you an early good morning text, and then headed right into the training arena. Spending a few hours practicing his aim on the training bots until he couldn’t see straight anymore. After a quick shower to wake him up, he headed to the kitchen for breakfast. It was now nearly 9 AM. A few agents have come and gone while he has been in the kitchen. Sage, who is usually an early riser, entered the training arena as he was leaving, giving the young agent a nod of approval for getting some early morning training in. Mateo had tried to keep his worry and anxiety off of his face, he didn’t want to give anyone a reason to pull him off of the mission. Passing Omen and Fade in the hallway he gave a quick hello to the two. Yoru had come into the kitchen to grab breakfast as well. Mateo gave the dimension walker a nod and the older man exchanged the pleasantry before leaving.

Mateo looked up from his cereal that he was more so playing with instead of eating as Neon made her presence known, “There you are, Mateo!” She said as she made her way further into the kitchen and started to prepare her own breakfast. He looked around, making sure that no one was near to be able to hear his real name, “Lo lamento, you were looking for me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, I heard you yell last night. I went to make sure you were alright, but you weren’t in your room.” She said, grabbing her food and sitting down next to him. “Reyna said she hadn’t seen you yet, either.”

Mateo’s face flashed red with embarrassment. Neon had heard him yell out after his nightmare. He guessed it would make sense that she would be the one to hear it as their rooms shared a wall, but he wondered how loud he truly was and hoped no one else had heard anything. “Wait, what did you tell Reyna?” He said with urgency. If Reyna knew something was bothering him, she might tell Sage or Brimstone to pull him off the mission.

Neon raised a brow, confused by his sudden worry. “I just let her know I was looking for you and was going to check up on you?”

“Maldita sea” He whispered, resting his head in his hands.

“What dude? You’re being weird. What's going on with you?” Neon said, taking a bite.

“Nothings wrong. I had a nightmare last night. Eso es todo. I can still go on the mission, everything's FINE. Bien.”

Neon swallowed, smirking, “ahhh, okay. So that’s what this is. You’re psyching yourself out!”

“Que!? No- I’m not- uh” Mateo sighed, shaking his head, “I had a nightmare about (y/n). I died on the mission and she found out that everything since I’ve been here has been lies.”

Neon furrowed her brow, “You know Sage can bring us back? You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know, but what if she can’t.”

“Well…” Neon started, “That hasn’t happened yet. But, I bet Brimstone will handle it, and give your family something? I’m not sure.”

Mateo shook his head, “That’s the thing. Nothing Brimstone can give (y/n) will undo any of the hurt I caused. She won’t see me as a hero once she finds out the lies it cost.”

The two of them sat in silence for a minute before Mateo spoke up again, “I’ve been thinking, and I think I’m going to tell her. About us and what I’m doing.”

Neon choked on her food, “You’re going to what!? Mateo you know you can’t.”

“She won’t tell anyone, I trust (y/n).”

“You don’t understand, Mateo. Of course our Omega counterparts know who our loved ones are. There aren’t many discrepancies between who we know and are related to. And the only thing keeping them safe is their ignorance. My parents only know where I am, and even that information could put them in danger.”

Mateo bit the inside of his cheek as he thought he was at a crossroads here. He couldn’t put you in danger. But, like Neon’s parents, his mom knows. Reyna told her months before he joined the Protocol and she’s been safe. There must be exceptions. “I won’t put her in danger, but I need to do something about this.” Mateo said, standing up. “Don’t tell Reyna or anyone until I figure it out, por favor.”

Neon looked up as Mateo stood, holding a steady gaze, “I won’t tell anyone, but I sure hope you know what you’re doing.” She said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a relatively uneventful week for you. Right now you are in the middle of mundane chores. You had just gotten home from grocery shopping for your dad and had begun to put the goods away. The only thing that made today different from the others was, to your surprise, Mateo texting you good morning around 5 AM. You were curious why he was up so early and he told you he just wanted to get an early start to his day and get into a better routine. Something you had wanted to do before but always gave up a few days in. Walking up anywhere between 8AM-10AM is usually how it went for you depending on your classes. You noticed Mateo seemed to have more time on his hands today with random “I miss you”s, “Te amo”s, and check-ins coming in more frequently than they had before. Your heart fluttered as you wondered if he was finally finalizing his schedule and not letting the college have such a strong pull on him.

You had decided a few days ago that you wanted to try and surprise Mateo for a visit in the upcoming weekend. Since he left you had been putting away extra money from each of your paychecks in order to purchase a train ride up north. The only problem was, you couldn’t remember the name of the city that Mateo is in. Whenever you looked up the college you saw that it had campuses in both Seattle and Portland. And whenever you tried to ask him to remind you, he either wouldn’t hear you or had something else on his mind he wanted to talk about.

After you finished putting the groceries away you leaned on the counter, grabbing your phone you dialed Mateo’s mother, waiting for her to answer as it rang.

Two rings in you heard and enthusiastic voice on the other line, “(y/n!) Que bueno saber de ti! How are you cariño?”

“Hola, Mrs. De La Fuente. Es bien, and you?” You asked.

“Oh cariño. I am doing really well. It was hard to adjust with how quiet the house has been. Don’t tell Mateo but I’m thinking of getting a cat” Mateo’s mom laughed.

You smiled, you had missed Mateo’s mom and were disappointed in yourself for not calling her sooner, “I’m sure he wouldn’t stop you.” you giggled.

“No, that’s the problema! He would bring an amigo home for it! But, una is enough for me, confía en mí” The woman laughed and then let out a small sigh. You could tell she missed her son as much, if not more than you did. “De todos modos, (y/n). Did you need something?”

“Si, Mrs. De La Fuente. I was wondering what city Mateo was in. I can’t remember if it was Portland or Seattle?” You asked.

Mateo’s mom paused, “...oh, why’s that, cariño?”

You hesitated, confused by her sudden hesitation and change in tone, “well, I um- I’ve been saving up a lot of money. And I finally have enough money to buy a train ticket and surprise him.”

Again there was a pause, “Miel, I don’t think that’s es buena idea.” She said.

A pit opened up in your stomach, “I’m sorry, Mrs. De La Fuente, but why?”

“Mateo is mucho busy, (y/n). I just think you should wait.”

You frowned, “But it would be on the weekend? I only would have gone up there for a day.” You heard his mom inhale, another pause stagnant in the air before she spoke again, “I just… think it’s for the best, miel.” Before you could question her again she spoke up again “Oh, (y/n)! The oven is going off, that is mi Bizcocho. Tengo que ir! We can talk about this more later. Mantente segura!”

The line clicked as she hung up, the pit in your stomach resting heavy as your thoughts added onto it. The tone change in Mateo’s mom’s words sounded like worry, almost like his mom was covering for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were less than 15 hours until the mission on Haven and Mateo was back to back with Phoenix as the two of them engaged in aim training at the training arena. So far they had been doing well, if they continued like this the duo might make it to one of the top spots on the leaderboard.

“Watch your eyes!” Phoenix called out for a flash, as Mateo sent out Wingman to stun a few of the bots that were surrounding them.

“So.” Phoenix started as he took out two bots, “I heard you’re having girl trouble, aye?”

Mateo tensed up, switching places with the man and firing his gun at the robots, “Qué!? Who told you that?”

Phoenix chuckled, rolling as he dodged some of the bullets, “So it’s true!” he bantered.

“No es verdad! It’s false!” Mateo said, pressing up against a wall as a few bullets went buzzing by his shoulder.

“Well, Jett told me that Yoru was givin you a tough time.” Phoenix responded, smirking as he occasionally took his eyes off the robots to see Mateo’s flustered expression.

Mateo sighed slightly, he was nervous Neon had said something to someone. But, if this was just about his encounter with Yoru then it didn’t bother him too much. “Yeah, that happened.” He said, leaving his place on the wall and taking out another bot.

“Well, don’t let him get to you mate. We’ve all been there with our relationship struggles. Oy behind you!” Phoenix said, taking out a bot that was running up to Mateo from behind.

“Thanks”, Mateo said with a small nod and smile to both the words of encouragement and for having his back during their training. Although Phoenix’s words weren’t exactly what he needed as a pick-me-up, he was still grateful for the effort put in.. Phoenix returned Mateo’s nod, “Ready to finish this?” He asked.

Smirking, Mateo responded, “Sí, amigo. You know it.”

“Alright let's go!” Phoenix said, his skin glowing a faint orange as he mowed through the rest of the bots with Mateo, thrash stunning a cluster for phoenix to take out. When no other bots came to confront the two, they gave each other a fist bump. “Now that has to be a top score, for sure!” Phoenix enthused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the aim training Mateo had taken an early dinner and gone to his room to chill for the night. He had already received a message from Jamie strategizing how they could achieve an even higher score next time. He had also received what he assumed was a sarcastic or playful message from Jett asking why he stole her aim training partner from her. Changing into some comfortable clothes, he laid down on his bed and gave you a call. Wingman snuggled up to his arm and Mateo moved a bit to get Wingman out of the frame of the video, causing the creature to mumble. “I’m sorry buddy. Not yet okay. Very soon she will meet you. Prometo. For now, if you stay down by my arm, you can sit in and listen in. Como es que, amigo?” Wingman purred and Mateo chuckled, “Alright just remember to be quiet.” Dizzy, Thrash, and Mosh also made their appearance, giving Mateo a curious look. “Alright, you three as well. But the same thing I told Wingman. Estar muy tranquila. Okay?” Dizzy and Thrash nodded. Thrash took up a spot near the end of the bed at Mateo’s feet, Dizzy laid on Mateo’s stomach, and Mosh cuddled up next to Wingman.

You answered the call to Mateo smiling and laughing, “Hola, Mi Teo. What’s got you in a good mood?” You returned his contagious smile.

“Well, the fact that I’m talking to mi amor might have something to do with it.” He smirked.

The two of you chatted for nearly an hour uninterrupted and you both savored that time that you had together. The longest your last video call was so far had been about 30 minutes max before Mateo got pulled away by something else. You laughed with each other when you caught him up to speed on the shenanigans your friend group was up to together. He asked about your father and your sister. You told him you were thinking of cutting your hair and he playfully begged you not to, but promised that you would look beautiful with any hairstyle you chose. He said you could even shave your head and you would be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. You laughed and told him to be careful what he says or you just might go ahead and do it, but he knew you would never. He knew how much fun you had styling your hair in different ways, it was something you had used often to express yourself.

“I wish I was there with you” Mateo said, he noticed the locket he gave you before he left around your neck, he was hanging next to your heart, but he wanted to wrap you up in his arms. A month away had felt like an eternity.

“I wish you were too.” You said, sharing his look of longing.

“Well, I find out when I’m able to leave soon. But before then I can send you a care package. I can put one of my shirts in it and some snacks from the area.” He grinned.

You smiled, “I’d like that.” Your words drew off slightly at the end of the sentence, as you thought back to your conversation with his mom. Hesitating, you wondered if you should tell Mateo, ask why she was being so weird about you wanting to visit.

Mateo noticed your hesitation and raised a brow, “what’s wrong, mi amor?”

“Well….” You started but bit your tongue. “So I saved up money from my recent paychecks and I figured with that money I would buy a train ticket to see you. Like a surprise. But then I couldn’t remember what city you said you were in or if you ever said the city you were in. So I called your mom and asked her. I told her my plan but she didn’t think it was a good idea and she also wouldn’t tell me the city and she also wouldn’t tell me why.” Catching your breath after your ramble you waited for him to answer, your cheeks flushed red. He stared at the phone, his mouth opening like he was going to say something, but then closing. “I just felt like she was hiding something from me?” You added on.

Mateo frowned, his gaze faltering before looking back at the screen, “(y/n), I have to tell you something.” He said, in a tone you had never heard before.

Your anxiety spiked, “oh okay… you’re making me a bit nervous. What is it?” You asked.

“So I’m not in Seattle… or Portland. I’m-“ the phone went black. Mateo grumbled, pressing the power button but to no avail. “Merida! Stupid phone” he cursed. Suddenly it powered back on, the screen flashing with a familiar symbol. Mateo narrowed his eyes. He went to your contact and tried to call you back, but an error flashed up on the screen once more with that familiar symbol. He tried to text you but was met with the same fate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cypher!!!” Mateo yelled as he ran down the halls. He made it to the computer room where he knew Cypher was most likely to be. He flung the door open and found the room empty. He cursed again, leaving the room and heading down the hallway.

“CYPHER!” He called again, he passed by Neon who looked like she was on her way to her room.

“Woah, Gekko. What’s going on, are you alright?” She asked.

“Not right now, Tala. I’m looking for Cypher.” He said, keeping his steady pace.

Neon followed behind him, “He’s with Reyna in the strategy room. But-“ he cut her off, “Thanks.”

“But Gekko-“ Neon tried to get his attention but he was focused on one thing.

Mateo flung open the door to the Strategy Room, seeing Cypher, Reyna, Sage, and Brimstone huddled over a holographic map of LA. Reyna’s eyes darted over to the two. “Neon! Gekko is not supposed to be in here right now” She said.

“I tried damn it!” Neon said, raising her hands up.

“I don’t care about whatever secret classified mission this is!” Gekko said, anger in his words. “I just want to know why, he child-locked my device!?” He said, pointing to Cypher.

“Cariño, cálmate.” Reyna said

“I activated the fail safe, because you were close to revealing yourself.” Cypher added in.

“What!? You were listening in on me!? Spying on me!? Esto es ridículo. ¡Esa fue una conversación privada!” Mateo exclaimed, Wingman and Dizzy appeared from his bag after Mateo's noticeable rising anger. “How would you even know to listen in?” He asked.

Cypher remained quiet, sharing a glance between the 3 older agents in the room.

Mateo turned around towards Neon, “ You told them! Didn’t you?” He accused.

Neon crossed her arms, “what!? No I didn’t.” She huffed

“Fui yo, cariño. It was me” Reyna spoke up.

An expression of hurt and betrayal flashed across Mateo’s face, as Wingman and Dizzy made a sound, similar to a faint cry but almost as if they were asking Reyna why.

“Que? Por que Reyna. Why would you have Cypher spy on me?” He asked.

Sage made her way closer to Mateo, “Reyna came to us a few days ago. We agreed that you are being pulled in two different directions. You need to have your whole mind and spirit here, Gekko. With your heart split, you can make dangerous decisions. Brimstone and I tasked Cypher on making sure you were making the right decisions. And Cypher is the one who heard you tell Neon your plan in the kitchen this morning.”

Mateo took a step back in anger as he cursed to himself. Placing a hand over his face, he shook his head. How stupid was he for thinking that Brimstone and Sage didn’t have eyes everywhere around the protocol, watching them at all times. Or that Cypher, the man who can scrub clean any mention of them from the internet within milliseconds wouldn’t be able to listen in on his private phone calls. Wingman walked up to Mateo, placing his hands on the man’s leg in an attempt to comfort.

“Gekko, we’re here to help you if you need it. I know some things are hard to understand why we do it. But it is for the best.” Sage added.

Mateo stood idle for a second, his eyes darting from person to person in the room. His mind was clouded with hurt, anger, and frustration. The silence lingered, no one having anything else to say. Mateo picked up Wingman and turned around towards the door, pausing in the doorway before speaking to those behind him, “You know, Reyna. You could have come to me first. Actually talked to me. Nunca pensé que irías a mis espaldas. Especially you of all people.” He said as he saw his way out.

The remaining agents exchanged a few glances as the tension Mateo left still hung in the air. Reyna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He will be okay,” she said to the group, while also reassuring herself. She was disheartened about breaking Mateo’s trust, but there were more important things at hand and she knew this was for the best, “We need to get back to our findings”.

“Yes.” Sage said, looking at the holographic map of LA that was laid out before them. “Your recon mission with Neon and Yoru revealed a big deposit of Radianite under the city, here.” She said pointing to the map.

“That’s close to Gekko’s home.” Reyna said, thinking of her friend. Not wanting to let Mateo down anymore, she needed to make sure this Radianite remained secure. “We need to make sure that a spike does not get detonated here”

“We also need to keep our eyes on Kingdom as well. They could already know about this.” Brimstone said.

Neon was looking towards the door after Mateo left, he was hurting and now he probably felt more alone than ever. Sighing, she turned around and looked towards the group, her eyes widening at the hologram as she made her way to the group. “Woah” Neon said as she walked up to the map, eyeing it in curiosity, “if a spike goes off there how many casualties will that be?”

“Too many.” Brimstone responded, his voice laced with an edge of concern and also exhaustion.

~~~~~~~~~

“...Teo?” You asked, as his face froze on your screen before the call ended, an error signaling that the connection had dropped. You tried to call him back but was only met by his voicemail. Resorting to a text, you sent ‘What happened, are you alright?’ only to get an immediate response saying that the message was unable to be delivered. Staring at the screen you blinked, trying to process what had just happened. You looked around through your phone to make sure that everything else was working, and found that you had a full connection to the grid. Whatever happened was on Mateo’s end. You found it odd that as soon as Mateo looked like he was going to confess something that the call dropped. And now suddenly you were unable to contact him back? Did the internet wherever he was suddenly just drop, since he did say that he wasn’t in Seattle or Portland, so where was he?

You sent Mateo a few more texts telling him to call you back if he was able or to let you know that he was okay. You debated on calling Mateo’s mom to let her know about the weird disconnection of his phone. But, with what Mateo had started to say, it had all suddenly made sense of why his mom was acting so weird on the phone. She knew he wasn’t in either of the two cities he had mentioned, she just was trying her best to avoid telling you.

The rest of the night for you drew on longer than you thought it would. You laid in bed, curled up on your covers while scrolling through various forms of media, checking every 30 minutes for a message to Mateo, while also sending one or two to test the connection. So far you had sent around 13 messages, signaling that it had been over 6 hours since your video call with Mateo. You had skipped dinner, your appetite gone and replaced with worry. Around 8:30 you had heard your dad leave for work, and around 11:30 you had heard your sister leave to go to a party. Neither of them bothered you before they left as you said you wished to be left alone.

It was nearing 1 am and your eyes were starting to get dry and heavy with sleep. You continued to stare at your phone screen, mindlessly scrolling, not even focusing on what was in front of you as you fought the urge to sleep. The thought of Mateo messaging you back as soon as you fell asleep would be your luck, and you wanted to make sure that wouldn’t happen. You would stay up all night if you had to, even if that meant you would miss your classes.

All the struggle you put up against falling asleep seemed to be in vain as your eyes shot open to the sound of your doorbell going off throughout the house. You rubbed your eyes in a daze as you checked your phone, “What the hell? It’s 3 AM.” you grumbled to yourself, closing your eyes and throwing your pillow over your head to drown out the ringing. Whoever was at your front door seemed to be holding down the button.

After a few more seconds you yelled, throwing your blankets off of yourself as you stood up. Exiting your room, you looked across the hall to your sister’s room. The door was wide open, and through the faint light shining inside you could tell she hadn’t made it home yet. “I swear, Gwen, if you forgot your key and locked yourself out I’m going to kill you” you grumbled. Heading towards the front door.

You yawned as you looked towards the peep hole to view who was outside, but the image you saw completely woke you up. “Teo?” you whispered to yourself. It felt like your heart stopped for a second, time slowing as you reached for the door to unlock and open it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The helicopter ride to Haven was uncomfortable at most for Mateo. Luckily, he was allowed to stay on the mission. Though if it were up to him he much rather would have been anywhere else, so was it truly luck? Having Reyna leading his mission completely ruined all the excitement he had when he was first assigned a week ago. He avoided her gaze as much as he could, still feeling the hurt from her broken trust just hours before. He continued to listen in on the debrief that he had heard many times throughout the week, giving her the respect as if they were just co-workers.

It was quiet when they arrived at Haven, giving the team the indication that they had beaten their Omega counterparts to the location. Reyna gave one last debrief before she dismissed everyone to set up their sites. The layout was fairly similar to Mateo’s dream, which made him slightly nervous. The only difference was that Killjoy was to be holding garage, her turret pointing at mid while Omen helped Reyna on A.

“Mateo,” Reyna said, grabbing his attention as he went towards his site. He turned around and paused, walking back up to her. “¿qué?” He asked, showing no emotion.

She sighed, "Escúchame Gekko, I know it doesn’t seem like it. But, I am with you.”

Mateo inhaled, pondering on her words, “mis disculpas when I said that it’s hard to believe that right now.”

“I am sorry that it has felt like you have to do this alone. Nunca deberías sentirte así. Y porque lo haces, es mi fracaso como mentor.”

“Eres una gran mentora, Reyna. I am just upset my privacy was infiltrado.” He sighed.

“I know cariño,” Reyna said, “And I am truly sorry.”

“Gracias, Reyna.” Mateo said, his nerves starting to settle slightly. He began to leave again before he was stopped once more.

“Also, Gekko-” “Si?” He asked.

“fuerte y feroz. They will not hesitate, you must not either.” Reyna said, her voice sturn and steady as she believed if Mateo took to heart anything that she said, she needed it to be this.

“Lo sé, Reyna. I know” he nodded, taking her advice in. He gave her a slight smile before he went and made his way to his position at C.

Mateo had scoped out his site, walking down C long and looking for the angles that Harbor had mentioned would be crucial to hold and would most likely be an area that their Omega counterparts would hide in if cornered.

Holding with his Vandal, Mateo aimed down site at C long, staying alert and ready for anyone to appear. His eyes were starting to strain as he had been focused already for 15 minutes at least. “Any signs of movement anywhere?” Killjoy said over her ear piece.

“Negative” Omen responded. “Nope” Jett added in “Gekko?” Reyna questioned. Mateo was about to speak before he saw Omega Jett peak up into C long. He fired his gun but she quickly dashed back from where she had appeared from. “Jett spotted!” He held his aim ready for her to peak again only to be met by a double peak with Jett and Sova. Mateo quickly ducked back behind boxes, The Omega archer sent a tracer dart flying landing on the wall in the back of C site, marking Mateo. “Sova spotted as well, my location has been marked, requesting backup!”

“I’m on it!” Killjoy responded, peaking out C short and throwing a grenade to stop the infiltrators from pushing up any further. From behind the box, Mateo threw up Dizzy who quickly scanned the area, blinding the two enemies. Mateo peaked out from his cover, aiming his gun at the Sova who was now blind in long with nowhere to hide. With three body shots to the chest, the archer was down. Mateo tried to catch his breath, this had been his first kill that wasn’t on one of the training bots. He had to get his breathing back under control and steady himself. One was down but there were at least 4 more to go.

‘fuerte y feroz’ he repeated to himself the words of advice that Reyna had given him.

“There’s someone A” Reyna said through the coms.

“Sending cover” Omen called out as he placed a smoke down protecting the A site from a quick entry.

“I believe the Jett has rotated,” Killjoy said. Jett spoke up, “I spotted her- uh me- In window! I’m holding.”

Mateo heard gunfire from across the area, indicating that A site had begun to be fought over. He continued to stare down long, just to make sure they weren’t being faked, until he heard otherwise. Killjoy began to move back into garage to help Jett hold her Omega counterpart.

On A site, Omen peaked heaven with an Operator, peaking into short while the smoke still covered long. Reyna shot through the smoke, taking cover behind boxes as bullets sprayed blindly towards her. A quick flash the two had never seen before, made up of white and yellow sparkling lights, blinded them instantly. They took cover as the omega agents entered the site, forcing Omen and Reyna to fall back. “We’ve lost the site.” Omen growled into his communicator.

“Gekko, Killjoy. Begin your rotation to A, stay alert as I believe they have sent the new agent, Lux, with them.” Reyna informed the rest of the team.

Killjoy began her rotation from garage through the window and the connector to B, leaving an alarm bot behind her incase of an enemy push or rotate. Mateo gathered dizzy up from where she was idling, quietly praising her for the work she did to help him with the Sova.

He quietly made his way to the C and B connector, where he would join up with Killjoy on B so that the two could arrive at A together. Before he could walk to B, a wall made of a white and yellow swirling energy came up, completely blocking off the entrance. This was something that Mateo had never seen before. He turned around, scanning his surroundings and saw nothing. “Be careful,” He spoke into his com, “I think the new agent put up a wall blocking off my entry on B.” “I see it too, but I don't see any other enemies. Still keep your guard up, we don't know how far their range is for their abilities.” Jett said.

Mateo stared at the wall before him, it didn’t look solid? It had a similar movement about it like Phoenix and Astra’s walls, though contained to one area as it took up the entire entry way. He carefully reached a hand out to touch it, but hissed in pain as the energy making up the wall instantly burned his flesh with contact.

He closed his eyes, shaking out his hand as he heard the sound of a revolver hammer locking behind him. He froze, feeling the sensation of someone watching him.

“Careful-”, They spoke. Mateo’s eyes widened, he knew that voice but there was something off.

“-Mi, amor. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.” They said, venom laced with their words.

Mateo raised his hands in the air, as he turned around and was met face to face with your Omega counterpart. His heart increased, she looked just like you only she was staring at him with an expression he had never seen from you before; Hatred mixed with amusement. “Lux?” Was all he could murmur

“Lux, (Code/Name), (Y/N), any of those work.” She sneered, holding her Sheriff out so that Mateo was staring down the barrel.

“Gekko, status update.” Killjoy was heard over the intercom.

“I-” Mateo started, but he was interrupted by your double.

“Shhh. Let’s not give away our position, now.” She hummed as she walked towards him, circling him like a Lion does its prey. “You seem so much more fun than my Mateo,” she lulled, “Let me guess, you actually made a move on my counterpart. Lucky her. Mine couldn’t take a hint if it hit him in the face.”

Mateo’s heart was racing, he never once thought that when he looked at the enemy he would see you. The (y/n) he knew wasn’t a Radiant, or so he thought. He remembered Brimstone's talk about discrepancies. But, wouldn’t you have developed your powers by now if you were?

He remained stunned in silence as your double paced around him, keeping the sheriff aimed at his head, his eyes following her. She walked up to him, placing a kiss on his lips, while pressing the cool metal of the gun to his temple. A wave of panic shivered down his spine causing his hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

She pulled away and took a step back, “Well, I’d love to keep this conversation going, Gekko-”

“-They’ve planted the spike!” He heard Jett yell into his earpiece.

“- But it seems like we’re out of time.”

Your double pulled the trigger on the sheriff twice, sending two rounds flying directly into Mateo’s shoulder. He yelled out in pain as the bullets burned through his flesh. Falling to the ground he squeezed onto his shoulder with his unburnt hand, trying to control the bleeding. He could hear commotion over the earpiece, but all of the words were deafened by the fire he felt on his shoulder.

Wingman jumped out of Mateo’s bag, running towards your Omega counterpart and stunning her, causing her wall blocking B to fall. As soon as it did, shots from a Vandal could be heard flying over Mateo and towards your double, but it wasn’t fast enough. Before the shot could land, your double vanished into a curtain of light, teleporting out of the area of danger.

Mateo squirmed on the ground in pain, Wingman ran up to his shoulder and pressed against Mateo’s hand, as if to try and help stop the bleeding. The two felt the ground shake below them, before an eruption of darkness shadowed them, indicating that the spike had gone off.

Omega had won. He let out another anguished cry as a wave of fire spread from his shoulder and down through his arm. “Gekko’s down, but he’s conscious” someone next to him said over the ear piece. He hadn’t realized it but Killjoy had taken a place, kneeled beside him. She must have been the one to try and stop your double.

The ground rumbled as Killjoy spoke, started to shift and break apart on A where the spike had gone off. “Shhh, shhh now, Gekko. It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine” the girl said, taking off one of her straps and preparing to use it as a makeshift splint to try and stabilize his arm.

Mateo squinted his eyes, trying to force back another wave of pain, “what about- the- others-“ he said through clenched teeth. “Where’s- Reyna-“

“She’s coming, Gekko, don’t worry. She’s alright. You’re doing good, keep that pressure.”

“The- new- agent-“ Mateo started, only to be cut off by KillJoy.

“Shh, don’t talk. Save your energy, Gekko.”

“Gekko! Mi cariño!” Reyna yelled out, kneeling next to Mateo across from Killjoy. Mateo looked upwards to see Omen making his way not far behind Reyna, in his arms was Jett, her arms laying heavy, swaying as Omen walked. Mateo’s eyes widened at the site of Jett’s unmoving form lying in Omen’s arms, her shirt drenched in blood. His adrenaline started to spike in that moment, his heart racing. He tensed up, trying to sit, grimacing as he did., “Jett- what… is- is she-“ He tried to speak, wincing with every word.

Reyna used her hand to avert Mateo’s gaze from his fallen comrade. “Sage will help her, Ahora necesitas quedarte con nosotros, Gekko.” Reyna looked at Omen and Killjoy as bits of derbies from A could be seen floating in the distance, the cracks in the ground spreading towards B, “We need to get out of here. Now.”

The next moments for Mateo moved in stop motion. He heard Reyna and Killjoy speaking to him, but their words merged together, unable to penetrate his ear drums. He blinked and they were helping him up, his good arm over Reynas neck as she helped him stand up. He blinked again and they were helping him into the helicopter, Omen placing Jett’s body on a makeshift infirmary bed before covering her up completely with a blanket. Another blink and he felt Killjoy pressing gauze up against his shoulder, while Reyna watched on, an emotion he couldn’t read in her eyes. He heard himself cry out in pain as Killjoy cleaned his wound, but it was almost like his voice was coming from someone else. Blinking once more, he saw his arm bandaged up, Omen walking up to him with Wingman in his arms. The wraith gently placed the creature down close to Mateo, who wasted no time to run up and cuddle into the crook of his uninjured arm.

As Mateo went unconscious, Reyna made her way next to where he lie, sitting down beside him she watched his chest rise and fall. “Lo siento, Mateo.” She said, giving him a kiss on the top of his head before brushing his hair back off of his forehead. “Eres un luchador Lo superarás.” Wingman looked up at Reyna from his place tucked in Mateo’s arm. She smiled at the creature, “Lo hiciste bien pequeña. Thank you for watching after him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Teo!?” You asked as you opened the door, a mixture of excitement and confusion in your voice, still groggy from sleep. “What are you do-” you continued, pausing as he took a step back. From behind him you saw a small pink creature begin to make its way to you. You let out the start of a scream as it jumped at you, the sonic wave it sent out from its body rendering you unable to move or speak. You winced slightly, feeling the paralyzing energy moving through your body. “mis disculpas, (y/n). Or what your Mateo calls you, ‘Mi amor’?” He smirked.

Your eyes darted around before meeting his gaze once more, in fear. What did he mean, ‘Your Mateo?’. You had heard of the incident years ago in Venice of a dimension traveler attacking. Was this one of those instances? But if so, what did you have to do with any of this? None of this made sense, you had to still be dreaming. Working against the paralyzing energy through your body, you were able to slowly close your eyes, trying to wake yourself up. Suddenly, you began to feel a burning sensation throughout your body. A mixture of heat and energy shooting through your limbs, leaving you wondering what the creature did to you. You opened your eyes to meet ‘Mateo’’s gaze, his smirk faltering as he saw your normally (e/c) eyes, a golden yellow. He suddenly looked nervous. “Apurarse, Omen.” He said, looking behind you. Unable to see what he was looking at, your heart started racing. You felt hands on your wrist as your arms were pulled behind your back, and fastened with a ziptie. You let out a small groan of frustration as you tried to fight your way free, but your body was not listening to you. Continuing to try and struggle, you were able to let out a small “Why?” that was cut off as a piece of fabric was placed over your mouth. 'Mateo' looked at you as he stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Lo lamento, Mi amor. But, a mission is a mission.”

A cloud of purple smoke started to surround you and your vision, you found yourself almost weightless for a second before the smoke dissipated. No longer in your house, you looked around as the paralytic was staring to wear off, 'Mateo' nowhere to be found. You didn’t get a great look at the room you were in before another strip of fabric was placed over your eyes, taking away your vision. What you could briefly see told you that the room was some kind of operating room, with various computers on the walls. The hand that had bound you reached out, somewhat gently, and led you to a chair and fastened your ankles to the legs. You yelped and tried to move from your bindings as you felt a prick of a needle on your skin. “I’m sorry.”, your captor said, as he drew your blood. The sound of his voice was haunting, but his words seemed sincere.

You moved in the chair, trying to free your hands. Although the paralyzing effect from that creature seemed to subside, you still noticed the slightly burning, almost electric feelings radiate through your mind and body as your adrenaline continued to pump. The sound of a door swinging open, accompanied by 2 sets of footsteps signified that you were no longer alone with your captor. You held your breath, as if out of instinct to try and go undetected. Never imagining you would be in a situation like this, you were feeling helpless. You weren’t a fighter, but you were smart, you needed to wait until you had resources to use and right now with your senses being taken away from you, the only thing you had to go off of is what you were able to hear.

“Let me see that sample” a woman said as she walked to the far side of the room, her voice sounded aged, and muffled almost as if it were coming through a microphone. A machine whirred up followed by sounds of typing.

The three stood in silence, as one person, you assumed it was the woman, typed.

“What did you find?” The third person spoke up. A male, their voice older, gruff, and sturdy.

“It’s positive. She’s radiant. A discrepancy here must have caused her abilities to not activate, which is how they must have missed her and skipped to recruiting Gekko” The woman said.

Your eyes widened behind the fabric, were they talking about you? No, you couldn’t be a Radiant. Radiants are the ones who attacked Venice, and killed thousands in the city. Radiants are the ones who took your mother away from you. You weren’t one of them.

A new set of footsteps drew your focus back into the group. “Alright, perfect. That means we’re able to move on to phase 2 then?” The voice sent a shiver up your spine. This voice sounded like yours but it couldn’t be. The footsteps began to make their way closer to you. Feeling a pair of fingers loop onto the fabric and pull it down below your eyes, you took in your surroundings. In the room, a woman with a short black haircut wearing a mask around her nose and mouth, a hooded figure who seemed to be glowing, and a bearded man with a muscular build looked on from the background. Though, your stomach dropped when you saw your own smirking face staring back at you. The only thing letting you know you weren't truly staring at your own reflection was the faint glow of a yellow/gold on the inner iris of her (e/c) eyes, “it’s about time I finally get to look in the mirror” she said.

Your chest rising and falling as you began to hyperventilate, “who are you?” You tried to ask, but it only came out as a mixed mumble through the fabric covering your mouth. Your double began to hyperventilate as well, mocking your mumble before laughing, “Sorry, (y/n). Just trying to get into character.” She smiled, something about it sending a chill down your spine.

She began to reach towards your neck and you tried to squirm away from her hands only to be stopped by the chair you were bound to. She unclasped the locket you were wearing. The gift Mateo had given you before he left. You tried to protest, but your movements were unsuccessful as she removed the jewelry from your neck and placed it around her own, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of it, and him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reyna entered the infirmary, to see Sage hovering over Jett, a blue glow emitting from her palms. The outgoing girl who now lay still had begun to breathe again just hours before, but there was still more work to be done. Sage had worked on Mateo earlier, his gunshot wound being a more easy fix than the wound that took Jett. The healer had praised Killjoy and Reyna for the work they did on the field to keep Mateo’s breathing controlled, as it likely saved his life.

“How is she?” Reyna asked. She was always fond of Jett. The young agent had such an upbeat attitude about the world. Similar to Mateo.

“Better.” Sage said, a wave of exhaustion coming through her words.

“You should rest. recupera tu energía. I can watch them until you return.” Reyna looked over to Mateo’s sleeping form as well. Wingman sat at the edge of his infirmary bed, looking on with an expression of concern and worry as Sage worked on Jett.

“I will be okay, Reyna. Jett needs me right now. Besides, I have had great company.” Sage replied, looking up to smile at Wingman.

Reyna sighed, “You can help her more once you have rested. She is breathing now, I will alert you if that changes.”

Sage paused, looking up at Reyna and nodding, “Thank you.” She said, giving her a reassuring touch on her shoulder before leaving.

Walking over to the two beds, Reyna looked at Jett a moment before pulling a blanket up over the sleeping woman’s form. These two in the infirmary were too young to be the ones injured on this mission, and even Omen had agreed. Had Reyna called a retreat earlier, perhaps Jett wouldn’t have dashed in as a last ditch effort to try and defuse the spike only to be ambushed by an Omega Cypher and an Omega Harbor.

Grabbing a chair, Reyna pulled it up next to Mateo’s bed and sat down, Wingman quickly hobbling over to her. The woman gave the creature a quick pet of affection before resting her hand on Mateo’s. She should have realized quicker that he hadn’t been heard on the communicator and wasn’t in the gunfight. She should have been more alert that something had happened to him. She had promised his mother she would protect him, and now he lay in the infirmary after his first mission that she had led. “lo siento, no estaba allí, Mateo”

With her free hand, Reyna continued to pet Wingman, who had quickly fallen asleep under her touch. Lost in her thoughts, Reyna continued to listen to the rhythmic beeping of the machines that both Jett and Mateo were hooked up to. Eventually, Wingman began to stir slightly as he woke up, and as if on queue Mateo began to move as well, mumbling as he fought for consciousness, “…(y/n)” he groaned.

Reyna perked up, “Mateo, it’s okay, mi cariño”, She said in a soft voice, trying to calm her protege.

“(Y/n)….” He repeated.

“ella no está aquí, but you can contact her later”

Mateo opened his eyes and quickly sat up, as if waking up from a nightmare. He winced as he grabbed his shoulder, now alert he looked at Reyna, doing his best to ignore the waves of pain shooting through him.”

“No, Reyna... it’s (y/n). Lux is (y/n).” He said.

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