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1427 · 3 months

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something to prove

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Every time your mom goes down to the city with Merle she lets Daryl stay behind and watch TV. The night your boyfriend breaks up with you, you decide you have something to prove.

Warnings: Very vaguely implied drug use, age-gap (reader is 20, Daryl is mid30’s), smut, voyeurism/exhibitionism, masturbation (both m & f), idk there’s something else that happens but idk how to tag it (premature ejaculation???), preTWD!Daryl.

Word Count: 3k

A/n: this is a two part story, possibly three? This started out as a step-dad!daryl idea but I reworked it because not everyone’s as big of a pervert as I am. If anyone wants step-dad imagines (au or otherwise for Daryl, or Negan) lmk. 🥵😈

17+ mdni

\\part 2\\

masterlist

“Who are you?” You ask, to the man standing in your house. Well, your moms house, certainly wasn’t his house. He looked like one of your moms friends from the bar.

“Shit, who are you?” He looks at you, more confused than you are. Scared almost.

“Mona’s kid?” You explain, who else would you be?

“Oh, shit. Didn’t know Mona had a kid. She just left you here?” You look at him like he’s still a stranger standing in your living room.

“I’m 20.” You watch as he sighs a little in relief.

“Right…. I’m Daryl. Uh. Her and my brother took a ride down to the city. Didn’t wanna go, she said I could hang here.”

“Of course she did,” you say to yourself with a sigh.

Daryl watches you as you run to the kitchen and grab a snack and run back toward the stairs, “Well. I’ll be in my room.”

“Wait! Uh.. where’s the remote?”

You sigh, with a smile this time, and step backward down the first step. You walk past him and dig your hand into the recliner that’s facing directly in front of the TV, pulling the remote from its hiding spot. As you walk back toward the stairs you put it to his stomach, and he takes it with both hands. “Thanks” you hear him say, and then you’re gone. Running up the stairs to lock yourself in your room.

✨🚬

Daryl and Merle came over a lot after that. You didn’t see too much of them, when you’re mom had company you knew it was best to stay locked in your room. Not like you’d want to be around her company anyway.

Daryl seemed different than Merle. Everytime you did venture out of your room for a snack, or to leave the house to go see your boyfriend, and you had to interact with things outside of your room, Daryl never spoke. Honestly, it seemed to you like he didn’t even want to be there.

And every time your mom and Merle go down to the city, Daryl stays back and watches TV and smokes cigarettes in the living room. Never does anything else.

You start developing a crush. And you know it’s insane because he’s so much older than you, but you can’t help it. You never thought you’d see someone older like that, but to be fair he didn’t look it. He definitely wasn’t as old as your mom. Probably mid 30’s? Probably. You couldn’t ask. And there was something about him. Brooding, quiet, but… safe. He never bothered you, never looked at you too long like most of your moms friends did. He seemed.. sweet.

You start praying they’ll come over, and then you pray that your mom and Merle will leave. Sometimes they’re only gone for half an hour, sometimes they’re gone all night. No matter how long they’re gone, though, you always go down and see Daryl.

You never really talk to him more than a few passing words, even when it becomes a more common occurrence.

Obviously you try to look as good as you can when you do go down there to walk in front of him. You stand awkwardly by the kitchen island, pretending to watch tv, trying to say something. Usually you can’t come up with anything.

You find yourself wearing more and more revealing clothing, trying to get him to look, but you never catch him looking. And, honestly? It frustrates you to no end.

Why won’t he look?

It’s starting to make you a little crazy, multiple times you’d had to stop yourself from coming down in just a towel.

And then your boyfriend breaks up with you. Probably better off, but the night that it happens you lose it. You’re not heartbroken necessarily, but you are pissed. And you feel like you have something to prove. And all of it bubbles up into something you normally would never see yourself doing.

You come downstairs this time in only an oversized teeshirt. No underwear. Its dark, all the lights off, it is 2am, but for some reason you weren’t expecting it. It should make what you have planned even easier. Less awkward.

Instead of going to the kitchen you walk right up to Daryl and put your hand out for the remote. “I wanna watch TV.”

He looks up at you. Finally. And he hands you the remote. “Alrigh’.”

You change the channel to something else, doesn’t matter what as long as it’s not what he was watching. You settle on an old movie, looked just boring enough. You lay down on your stomach in front of where Daryl sat in the armchair, your teeshirt riding just barely up your ass, just enough for Daryl to be distracted by it. To notice it. To ask himself if you weren’t wearing any underwear.

You hear him take a deep breath from behind you and it makes you smile. Finally.

And you stay like that for a while, absentmindedly looking at the TV, not really watching it. Daryl’s watching you through half lidded eyes. Before you’d come downstairs Daryl was a good five minutes from falling asleep in that arm-chair. But now? His heart hammering in his chest, he has to control his breathing in the quiet living room, to not tip you off that you were affecting him so much. He wasn’t sure what you were doing, or if you were even doing it on purpose. But you’re 20, right? Surely… he figures you have to know.

But if you know what you’re doing, than you’re expecting some kind of reaction, and Daryl… can’t. He can’t move. He can hardly think straight. Looking at your bare legs, the little peak of your ass just barely revealing itself from under the fabric. And then you shift your hips and the tee-shirt falls away even more.

It takes everything in him to keep his breathing steady.

“Are you looking?” Your voice cuts through the silent room, making no attempt to turn back and look at him.

“No.” Daryl says, quickly. His brain scrambling over the new information that you definitely, absolutely, undeniably knew what you were doing.

You smile to yourself, the choked sound of his voice told you everything you needed to know. You can practically feel the heat in his cheeks. The tightness in his chest.

You never thought you’d be as into it as you were getting. Him seeing you like this was burning up your core. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. You put your head to the floor in a small moment of defeat over your own body, feeling yourself start to drip down your leg. You wonder if he can see it too. If the light of the TV is reflecting off the little strings of your arousal, coating the inside of your thighs, starting to drip down onto the carpet. A small groan escapes your lips as you raise your hips up off the carpet, keeping your shoulders and the rest of your body down to the ground.

You want to show him what he’s doing to you. You want him to see the mess he’d made. So there you are, your ass now completely in the air, only a few feet from where he’s sitting behind you, “Are you looking now?”

This time Daryl doesn’t respond. Because he can��t. His fingers are whiteknuckled on the arm-rests. And he was losing the ability to control his breathing. He was losing control of the ability to even think about breathing. To think at all.

You don’t mind that he didn’t answer, you knew. His ragged breathing spurred you further. You reach down underneath your body, through your legs, and try to spread yourself open for him with two delicate fingers. Your middle finger slipping through your folds, too slick to hold up to friction. Your hand wipes some of it down your thigh, so you can continue what you’re trying to do.

And you can hear his breath hitch in his throat, making a smile bloom on your face. A sick, cocky smile.

You spread yourself for him, before taking two fingers to your clit and drawing small circles around it. You hiss, your hips spasming at the too sensitive feeling of pressure directly on your nerve bundle, but you keep going.

Plunging two fingers deep inside of you, selfishly. This one wasn’t for Daryl, although he liked it. You needed the delicious feeling of something inside of you. Your fingers hook in you, desperately curling over and over again as you mercilessly assault your own g-spot.

The noises coming out of you could send Daryl into a coma. Not just the half-coherent babbles and deep definitely-came-from-your-chest groans. No, the sound of your slick hand squelching against your cunt so perfectly.

You go back and forth like this, between your clit and your walls, until you feel your orgasm start to bubble over. The dull throb of ecstasy climbing into every limb. You almost forget Daryl’s watching as you put your fingers back inside you, three this time, and ride your own hand until your body is shaking, expletives falling out of your mouth before you can catch them.

You lay there, on the floor in a heap, teaching yourself to breathe again. Until you glance back at Daryl. With one hand covering his mouth his expression is unreadable, but his other hand gripping the arm rest tells you everything. And the hard cock pressing up against the zipper of his pants tells even more.

You’re almost embarrassed, but not quite. Standing up from the spot you’d laid down to ‘watch TV’ you silently walk over to him and wipe your hand off on his shirt. Pressing your fingers hard against his chest through the fabric, eliciting a barely audible moan from him.

He watches you walk away, listening as your bare feet pad up the steps and into your room. It takes him all of three seconds to free his cock from his jeans. Pumping himself furiously, unceremoniously, with his face buried in the spot of his shirt where you’d wiped your juices on him.

The smell of you, the taste of you, so fresh and right there. He laps at the spot until it’s soaked with his saliva. He comes in a strangled mess, trying to be quiet, hot white ropes painting his jeans.

After it’s over he curses himself. He leaves before Merle and your mom get back, to go home and change. Wondering to himself what the hell just happened.

✨🚬

For a week you avoid him. He and Merle come over twice, but you stay in your room the whole time. A little too embarrassed to face him so soon after what you’d done. You didn’t regret it, or feel bad, but your normal personality had returned. With nothing more to prove to yourself, or your stupid ex boyfriend. Not bold enough to masturbate in front of older men. Apparently not even bold enough to show your face in front of him.

You wake up one night in a sweat, having another dream about Daryl. In this one he’d had you bent over the kitchen table. Fuck it’s hot in here, you go to open the window but what you really need is water.

You start to make your way downstairs, only to see Daryl. In the faint glow of the television, eyes wide as he meets yours. “Oh. Hi.” You manage to say, awkwardly standing on the last step before nodding at his lack of response, looking down trying to hide your blush.

You walk to the kitchen silently, getting some water for yourself. Feeling unbelievably uncomfortable, you wanted to be clever. To be coy and cute and everything you were the other night, but the whole thing is making you so nervous you can’t think straight. You just want to get back upstairs before you say something stupid. Before you embarrass yourself by not being that person.

You down a cup of water quickly and toss it into the sink before heading back for your room.

You’re passing in front of the TV when Daryl asks you, “Do you want the remote?”

One simple question, your head spins. You knew what he meant. What he was really saying. ‘Do it again’.

You look over at him, remote on his knee, and you nod. Walking over to him, you pick up the remote from where it sat, but you let your fingers graze all the way up his leg, over the tight bulge in his pants. “Christ.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You smile, that same cocky smile, and take your position down on the ground in front of him. You take your time, at first you really are watching TV. Letting Daryl ache for it. Letting him question if you understood what he’d meant.

He’d been wondering when he was going to see you next, if you’d do it again. If you’d do more. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was definitely the hottest thing a girl had ever done for him. Not like he had all that much experience with women, but he had some. None of it quite like that. Nothing that was so burned into his memory that if he closed his eyes he could still taste you. Still hear those explicit noises coming off your body.

He needed more. He needed to watch you again.

He waits, with baited breath, for you to touch yourself. It feels like it’s taking forever. There’s something about you just down there in front of him, though. It feels like he’s almost able to get off on just that.

Eventually you spread your legs a little bit at a time. Raising your hips again, you play with yourself in front of him like you did before, taking more time. Teasing him.

You slide the top half of your body, flush with the ground, over to the side a little so you can look back at him. Fuck. He’s just staring. Mouth open, eyes half closed, fingers holding a cigarette that he occasionally drags. Just watching. Never taking his eyes off of you. Occasionally he looks back up to your face, all contorted in pleasure, but for the most part he can’t take his eyes off of what your fingers are doing. The light shimmering over every wet part of you.

You sit up for just a second to bring the teeshirt off your body and throwing it to the side. Resuming your position, now completely naked. Vulnerable. You look at him with another smile, his expression is pained.

Daryl’s trying so hard to keep himself in control. To not touch himself until you’re out of the room, that would be too much, right? He’s convinced himself that there’s no way he can pull his cock out in front of you. He’s so much older, even if you’re 20. Even if you’re in front of him, doing this. Pretty, delicate, messy pussy spread out for him. Begging for him. He can’t. He’s got to control himself. Plus, it’s too embarrassing. You’re so confident and languid with your movements, he’s sure if you saw him like the strangled mess he was the other night that you’d run out of the room immediatly.

He’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter to you. Of course you want him, and of course you’d let him slither right in behind you and claim any hole he wanted. You would love to see him lose control and touch himself, even if it was something you’d never seen a man do before. Of course you would. But the feeling of his eyes burned into you is so exquisite on its own.

Daryl’s losing his fucking mind, though. You’re doing it all different than last time. Slower, hotter. Grabbing at your tits with your other hand. Fuck. His head is dizzy, he feels like he’s going to pass the fuck out. And then you start riding your hand again. But not like last time, last time your fingers were hooked into you so tight that Daryl silently begged for you to just fuck yoursef with your fingers instead. He wanted to watch your lips spread out and over them. Wanted to watch you fill and empty your cunt with your two fingers over and over, and now that’s exactly what you’re doing.

Daryl’s chewing on his thumb, anything to keep his hands away from himself. Every time you pump your fingers inside he feels his hardened length spasm. So tight into his pants, the friction actually starts to feel good.

You add another finger, and then another. It’s too much for Daryl, who was again silently begging you to do that too. To stretch that little pussy even more for him. Before he can even comprehend what’s happening, his vision goes white. Daryl’s cock spasms violently, cum coating the inside of his pants. His thumb is bleeding from where he’d bit down on it, and he’s never been more fucking embarrassed in his life. Never been more surprised, confused, turned on.

He watches as you ride out your high, following with your own earth shattering orgasm only a few moments later. He looks down to you to see if you had any idea of what had happened, but you don’t.

You have no idea he just came in his pants without even touching himself. Just from watching you.

pt 2

a/n : thanks to @norman-fucking-reedus for helping me with some ideassss for this 💕🤘🏻

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader

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nina-ya · 3 months

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Law Helping You Study (NSFW)

Pairing: Law x AFAB Reader CW: Oral (reader receiving), fingering, uh i think thats it??? WC: 2.5k A/N: This was meant to be a self indulgent Law helping you study thing but idk what happened I blacked out and now its NSFW lol. I might write a part 2 with what happens after the end of this one but for now here have this <3 Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

“Wrong” Law's deep voice declared from across from you, causing you to look up, irritation flashing through you.

“What? No, I can’t be wrong.” you insisted, narrowing your gaze at the man in front of you.

Law raised an eyebrow, not bothering to hide the amused smirk playing on his lips “Your flashcards don’t lie”

“Well the flashcards are wrong.” you retorted, crossing your arms defensively.

Law leaned back, studying you with a bemused expression. “But you made them.”

You let out a frustrated groan, tossing yourself back onto the bed, and running your hands across your face. The stress of the upcoming exam was getting to you, and it seemed Law was enjoying the spectacle.

“You need a break.” Law suggested, putting the flashcards to the side.

You shot him a skeptical look as you responded, “since when are you one to take breaks?”

“Since I can practically see the steam pouring out of your ears.” he deadpanned, gesturing to your visibly agitated state.

You sighed deeply and rolled your eyes. Law was right, and you knew it. You needed some sort of destresser before you blew up. You propped yourself onto your elbows and looked at Law. “Fine, a break,” you conceded. “But only a short one.”

Law nodded and got up, putting all of the study materials aside and walking away from your study area. He gestured for you to follow him. You reluctantly got up from the comfort of the bed and followed as he led you into the kitchen. He found himself digging through the fridge, pulling out some random ingredients.

“You could’ve just said you were hungry.” You said as you observed the items he was pulling out of the fridge.

“It’s not for me, It's for you.” he stated matter-of-factly. “Three cups of coffee, an energy drink, and some cheese and crackers is not proper sustenance.”

“I don't know, that feels like more than enough sustenance to me.” you retorted, a playful smile forming on your lips.

“Ahuh, sure. Sit.” He said, gesturing for you to take a seat at the small kitchen table, and you complied. You watched as he threw together a simple sandwich for you, placing it on a plate and pushing it towards you along with a glass of water. You seemed to relax as you took the sandwich in your hand, taking small bites out of it.

As you made your way through your sandwich, Law leaned forward on the counter, looking at you as he stated, “You seem to be struggling.”

“Excellent observation, Sherlock.” You retorted, finishing the last bits of your sandwich.

“Still snippy. I thought food was supposed to calm you or something.” He said with amusement, shrugging as he pulled the plate from in front of you, putting it in the sink.

“There’s nothing calming about feeling like I’ll never understand this subject.” You whined out, dropping your head onto the counter as you let out a groan of frustration.

Law looked at your state of despair and watched as you lost hope. He suddenly spoke up. “Maybe you need to look at it in a different direction.”

“Huh?” You asked, lifting your head up from the counter to make eye contact with him.

“You need to switch up your studying. Change something in your routine to make studying more tolerable, and hopefully enjoyable.” He said thoughtfully.

“Enjoyable? You severely overestimate just how enjoyable studying can be.” You countered with a groan, clearly not wanting to hear him out.

“Humor me.” he stated plainly. He walked out of the kitchen and waited for you to follow, leading you back to your study area.

You sat down on the bed once more, feet dangling off the edge as Law took a seat in a small chair across from you. He pulled out the study materials, sorting through them as he started, “Studying won't do you any good if you aren’t motivated. You look at each of these flash cards as if they are the enemy.” He waved the flash cards in front of you for emphasis as he continued, “How does a reward system sound?”

“Rewards?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the thought, “Like what?” you asked.

He leaned over to a nearby drawer and rummaged around. As he did so he started to explain, “Let’s say for every 5 questions in a row you get right, you get to take a 5 minute break or…” he trailed off as he seemed to be looking for something. Then, he sat back up, a plastic bag in hand as he continued, “I knew you had these,” he muttered to himself triumphantly. He held up the plastic bag, and in that moment, you realized it was your stash of chocolates, “How about, for every question you get right, you get a piece of chocolate?”

“This is stupid.” You say with a deep sigh, the motivation to study having evaded you hours ago.

Law continued, trying to convince you to give his idea a shot. “It’s not stupid, It’s basic psychology. Do you have any better ideas anyways?”

You stared at him for a moment before sighing in defeat. He smirked at this small victory as he placed the bag of chocolates in his lap, getting into a comfortable position to start with your new study session.

Law held the flash card in your face, and your eyes scanned over the question, reading it carefully. You thought for a moment and perked up as you nearly shouted out an answer. A smirk spread across Law's lips as he placed the flash card down and grabbed a piece of chocolate, tossing it to you.

The next flash card is up. You thought hard for a moment once more and recited another correct answer. Once again, he grabbed a piece of chocolate, tossing it to you.

Next question. He held the flashcard up and you thought over the content before starting to slowly and unsurely speak. As the wrong answer spilled from your lips, Law’s eyebrows raised as to indicate that you are on the wrong track. You noticed this and hesitantly changed your answer, this time saying the right one.

He nodded his head at you and pulled out another chocolate. This time, being a little more brave as he leaned forward and held the chocolate in front of your mouth. Your eyes flickered between the chocolate and his eyes, your brain stopping momentarily at the action. Nevertheless, you leaned forward and accepted the chocolate, taking it from his fingers. Your tongue ran against the tip of his fingers and your lips enveloped the digits as you did. When he pulled his fingers away, a small string of saliva connected your lips to his fingers for a moment before it snapped. His eyes grew darker as they fixated on your dampened lips before pulling his hand back towards him.

This action did not go unnoticed by you, as your breathing deepened slightly, heart starting to thump harder in your chest and a slight heat building in your core. You simply stared at him, shifting slightly as you instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking any friction of sorts to relieve yourself of this sudden rise in tension.

He pulled out another flash card and held it in front of you, the fingers that were just in your mouth seconds ago dampening the card underneath. You had to forcefully rip your eyes from his gold ones in order to focus on the question in front of you.

‘I wonder what he tastes like… wait, that's not what the flash card says… those fingers, that hand, what would that look like around my throat?... Shit! Get yourself together!’

“Having trouble there?” Your heart raced as Law’s voice broke your swirling thoughts, bringing you back into the present moment. You blinked rapidly, trying to regain your composure as you tore your gaze from his intense stare.

“Uh, no, I’m fine,” you stammered, attempting to regain focus on the flashcard in front of you. Your mind was still reeling from the unexpected intimacy of moments ago. The question seemed to wash away before your eyes, the words blurring together as you grappled with the sudden rise in this unexpected desire.

With a shaky breath, you managed to refocus, mentally berating yourself for letting your intrusive thoughts take over.

“What's the answer?” Law prompted, his tone colored with amusement as he watched you struggle to conceal your emotions.

You forced yourself to ignore the lingering sensations as you recited the correct response. Relief washed over you as Law nodded in approval, his expression rather unreadable at this point. He reached for another piece of chocolate and held it out to you. You hesitated, heart racing as you looked at the compromising position you are once again in with his tattooed fingers delicately holding out the chocolate to your lips.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, parting your lips to accept the offering. As the chocolate met your tongue, you closed your eyes briefly, savoring the sweetness that flooded your senses. Your eyes fluttered open to the feeling of Law’s hand moving, his hand now gently cupping your chin with his thumb resting on your bottom lip.

You locked eyes with him and you froze, most of the chocolate still poking out of your mouth, being held in place by your teeth as you dared not move. Heat rose to your face and your breathing quickened as his gaze bore into yours, dark and intense.

Without a word, he closed the remaining distance between you two, his lips parting to meet yours. He gently bit down on the chocolate as his lips brushed against yours with a soft touch, sending shivers down your spine.

You gasped softly, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips pressed more firmly against yours, the kiss growing more insistent with each passing second. His hand slid from your chin to the curve of your jaw, holding you in place. Your lips parted instinctively, allowing him access as his tongue slipped past, tasting the remaining remnants of chocolate on your tongue.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with desire. Without breaking the kiss, Law rose from his chair, his hands finding their way to your shoulders, gently urging you back onto the bed. You complied without hesitation, sinking into the softness of the mattress as he hovered over you.

His hands roamed freely, tracing your body, gently touching and grabbing everything within his reach. His lips began to trail down your neck, each press of his lips onto your skin sending your mind into a haze with a desire that bordered on intoxication.

You arched into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his hands explored every inch of your skin. Law’s hands roamed under the fabric of your shirt, and with a desperate touch, he guided the shirt over your head, discarding it with a sense of urgency.

Exposed and vulnerable beneath his gaze, you watched as he leaned down, and you sharply gasped when his lips started trailing down your chest, each touch growing that feeling in your core. You arched into his touch; every caress left you yearning for more, aching with a need only he could satisfy.

Laws hand reached behind your back, his fingers working at the clasp of your bra, releasing it with ease. He tossed the garment aside, not particularly caring about where it ended up. You gasped as his hands met your bare chest, his touch sending shivers down your spin as he grabbed and squeezed at the skin. His fingers teasingly ran over your hardened nipples, chuckling lightly at the reaction he pulled from you when he gave one of them a squeeze.

Your breathing shuttered as his lips closed around one of your buds, his tongue flicking and teasing with a skill that left you trembling with pleasure. Each movement sent waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

Law's lips traveled lower, leaving a trail of kisses along your abdomen, the feeling of pleasure coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach. Your breath hitched as his hands slid lower, tracing your hips with a light touch.

He lets out a low groan of desire as he pressed his lips against the skin just above the waistband of your pants, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You whimpered out at the sensation, your breath shaky as he teased you.

In one smooth motion, he rid you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable beneath his gaze. His eyes bore into you with complete and utter desire as he took in the sight of you. He closed the gap, and his mouth found its way onto your dripping core, having you moan out in utter pleasure at the feeling. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he worked his tongue on you. Each flick of his tongue around your sensitive bud had you trembling.

You writhed under his touch, your body involuntary moving as the pleasure threatened to consume you whole. But Law held you down, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Stop squirming,” he murmured his voice low and commanding as he continued his relentless assault.

Law wasn’t content with just his mouth, he wanted to drive you to the edge with the help of his fingers as well. He slipped two of his fishers between your thighs, the digits easily sliding in with the help of your wetness, and soon the ‘E’ and the ‘A’ of his knuckle tattoos disappeared deep within you as he explored your depths. You moaned out, back arching as his fingers and his tongue tortured you, tightening that coil that's threatening to snap with each passing moment. You cried out his name, your voice a desperate plea for release as he brought you closer and closer to answering your prayers.

With a final thrust of his fingers, he sent you hurdling over the edge, your body convulsing, thighs clenching around his head as a tidal wave of pleasure washed over you. He lapped up your dripping desire with hunger, riding you through your orgasm. Your heart raced and your chest heaved as you lay spent and breathless beneath him.

He brought his head up from between your thighs, your essence dripping from his chin as he stared at you with a shit-eating grin. He wiped away your arousal with his fingers, popping them into his mouth to lick them clean.

Law was not content with just tasting you; he wanted to feel you. He discarded his shirt, revealing the large tattoo that adorned his chest. His gaze burned with hunger as he leaned down to kiss you once more, his hips planting themselves between your legs, grinding against you as he chased any sort of friction to release his own pent up desires.

What was meant to be a simple study session has quickly faded into a moment filled with complete and utter desire. Sounds of shared pleasure soon fill the room, studying being the last thing on anyone's mind as you two get lost in the feeling of absolute bliss.

#nina writes~✦#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #one piece smut #x reader

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tainsan · 11 months

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misfits III (college!ateez x reader)

{a/n: this one is a little bit crazy so buckle up!}

do not steal my work or repost on places other than tumblr.

taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-00 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan

i{f you asked to be in the tag list and dont see your name, I am incredibly sorry but your account cannot be tagged. Again, my apologies.}

-----THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT-----

⇢ master list ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

warnings: small anxiety attack, someone is a dickhead to reader

word count: 7k

_______

“I’m sorry I just can’t....

”“What do you mean?” Wooyoung’s voice is full of remorse as he cuts your words off. Yeosang can feel his heart drop down to his stomach.

“Let me finish,” you say softly, “I was going to say I just can’t believe this is happening.”

Wooyoung tilts his head to the side, whereas Yeosang’s hands gripped tightly, his nails digging into his palm.

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung repeats himself, not understanding the situation.

“Look I’ll spare you the sob story but my entire life I’ve kind of been treated like shit, it’s extremely hard to believe that something incredible like this is happening, it doesn’t seem real at all,” you admit, looking at your hands which are now full of sweat. Your comment pierces the hearts of the two males standing in front of you.

“It’s happening, okay?” Yeosang takes your hands into his own, and you fail to see the way Wooyoung’s jaw clenches, “sometimes bad things fall apart for good things to fall into place.” Your heart stops for a second as the words leave his mouth. It was something your mother used to say when you were younger. You aren’t sure if it was his words or the way he was caressing your hands in his, but something made you not able to move an inch. “I think…”

Abruptly your words are cut off by the sound of the front door opening, and some noisy voices entering into the building. Looking between Yeosang and Wooyoung, you realise the rest of the house was finished with their classes and now home. Much to your dismay, you were hoping to only have to talk to one or two people today. Silently hoping that none of them go to this room, you take your hands away from Yeosang’s grasp wiping the sweat on the sides of your legs. Yet your hopes are crushed when you hear multiple footsteps pounding around outside. Of course, this room had to be so close to the kitchen. You hear a familiar voice call out for Wooyoung and Yeosang, causing your heart to clench momentarily. They seem to notice your behaviour change, not answering the call, still studying your body language, and trying to figure out how to get you out of this situation. Their efforts are futile though, as you hear a knocking on the door.

“Don’t tell me you are dwelling in this room waiting for,” the door opens, and you see San scanning the room. His eyes widen as he makes eye contact with you, not being able to believe you are here.

“___? You came?” His voice is soft yet the hints of enthusiasm that spill through his cold exterior are unmistakeable. It’s the first time you’ve seen San since the tutoring session, however, you aren’t as ecstatic as you thought you’d be to see him again, wishing it was under different circumstances.

Not grasping how to proceed, all you do is wave in response, a forced smile plastered on your features. Fortunately for you, San is fairly able to read the situation, noticing the way your body is tensed up and uncomfortable. He too speedily tries to think of a way to help you, but unfortunately, the only way to get out is through the kitchen it seems hopeless, and he isn’t about to let you go out through the window, as much as you’d gladly throw yourself out right now.

“Sannie what is taking so long?” You hear another familiar voice get closer to the door. Realising there is no way out of this situation, you grudgingly decide to trail the three men out of the room headed for the kitchen. As your eyes make contact with the kitchen, you see five men either sitting or standing around the island, talking boisterously about what seems to be for dinner tonight. Groceries are laid across the island in multiple plastic bags. You can recognise Jongho and Mingi, which makes you feel a little at ease, yet when your eyes land on Hongjoong, your heart races even quicker remembering the act with him two days ago. You immediately take your eyes away from him and that’s when your eyes land on two unfamiliar faces, they must be Seonghwa and Yunho. They both have black hair and are undeniably stunning. It is Jongho who looks towards where you and the three others are entering, his smile growing on his face when he sees his roommates, the first time you’ve seen his full smile and it makes you comprehend how close they must all be. Luckily, none of the men in the kitchen sees you half hiding behind Yeosang.

“What took you so long?,” he says, feigning annoyance. At that moment all the guys look at you, and you hide entirely behind Yeosang, not knowing what to do. It’s one thing being with three of the Ateez members, let alone all of them in one space.

“Who is that?” You hear Mingi's query. ‘Fuck’ you think, knowing he noticed you, even though you were expertly disappeared behind Yeosang’s broad figure. Wooyoung looks to his left and observes you almost flat against Yeosang’s back, concealing from the view. His attempts to hold back his laugh and it does not go ignored by the five men in the kitchen.

San bends down slightly to meet your ear, “Just come out, nothing bad is going to happen.” His voice is again soothing and calm, only you Wooyoung and Yeosang hear it.

Not realizing you are hiding behind him, Yeosang turns to see what is occurring behind his back. Due to his motion, you are uncovered to the five men residing in the kitchen. As their eyes meet you, there are mixed responses seen across the room. Jongho’s smile spreads throughout his face, Mingi has a sort of shocked-glad look adorning his expression, and you swear you see the corners of Hongjoong’s lip turn up ever so vaguely. However, the two men you are new to have unreadable looks on their faces. A deathly silence follows your reveal behind Yeosang, and he feels extremely guilty for uncovering your concealment.

Before you can say hello, one of the two unidentified faces stands up from his chair behind the island, and you notice he is incredibly tall and well-built, he is undeniably the tallest of the group, his height reaching above Mingi’s.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” His voice is venomous and cruel. He does not utter another word before storming past San, bumping roughly into his shoulder, definitely on purpose. Then disappearing into one of the bedrooms behind you. Sighs are heard from the kitchen, some seeming shocked yet some of them appear as if they expected it.

Looking over to your left, confusion on your face, you go to ask San if he is okay from the impact of the tall male.

“I’m fine,” San replies, his scowl being replaced by a light smile, momentarily feeling delighted you are concerned about his health. You fail to notice the way the six others in the room frown at the man who has your consideration.

“San,” Hongjoong speaks out, getting the notice of the male next to you. His voice is authoritative and sharp, but not in a foul-mouthed way. Rolling his eyes, San moves away from you and towards the room where the man who just stormed off was residing in. Gently, Wooyoung places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the kitchen, his fingers on fire from the contact with you.

“So how do you like the house? I’m sure Wooyoung and Yeosang have given you a good tour?” Hongjoong asks you as you are still in your place, Wooyoung swiftly takes a place to your right whereas Hongjoong takes a place to your left. Yeosang grumbles as he makes his way towards the empty seat across the island.

“Um yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, your voice is hushed and soft. Hongjoong’s look is unfazed.

“That’s great. So, when are you moving in?” He is straightforward with his words and the inquiry hangs in the room causing the others to become tense for your reply, not sure if you are moving in or not. The harsh actions of the man bounce around in your brain, and you are not even sure if it was Yunho or Seonghwa, or if that was even their name.

“It’s a great place but isn’t it going to look kind of weird if I’m living with eight guys?” you reply truthfully, deciding to ignore your many thoughts and questions about what just happened. You are hoping for people to not be assuming things, if you were to live here, you’d prefer people not to know. Knowing that if it got out you were living with them, then the attention directed towards you would be extreme and way too much for you to handle.

This time Wooyoung replies “We thought you might say that. But it’s not like you have to share a bed with any of us,” he bends down to your level once again, “unless you want to.”

You are extremely taken by surprise by this comment, your cheeks heating up almost instantly. It’s the first time anyone has ever spoken to you like this and you definitely have no idea how to react.

Noticing your stunned expression, Mingi quickly steps in, “he’s just joking, don’t take anything he says too seriously.” Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung moves away from your frame, resting down on the barstool next to you.

“I see this is what you meant by overbearing?” You ask Hongjoong, half joking, half serious. However, the look on Wooyoung’s face, when the word comes out of your mouth, is too amusing to not laugh at. He has an open mouth and places his hand over his heart, simulating to be offended.

“In a way, yes,” Hongjoong responds, his lips twitching up a little.

“To answer your question,” you start, all the men in the room holding their breaths in suspense, not knowing what the answer would be, “if I am to move in here, I want to ask some questions, if that’s okay.”

They breathe out slowly in relief, it’s not a definitive no, they still have a chance.

“What would those be?” You look over to the person who asked the question, it is the man you are unfamiliar with. His voice is deep but smooth, like honey. For the first time, your eyes make direct contact with his and for some reason it feels like it’s not the first time your eyes have met his. It feels like there are lost memories in his eyes, and if you look close enough, you will be able to recover them. There is a strong emotion on his face, it’s concentrated and undeniable, yet you can’t quite grasp what exactly the emotion is. You stare long into his deep eyes, wanting some sort of answer to a question you don’t even know the words to. Swiftly you break the eye contact, avoiding getting lost in the familiarity of his gaze. The small interaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the group and they are momentarily worried that there was something wrong, or maybe that you realised something.

“Um, well first I want to know if I’m allowed to have friends over?” You query, hoping they say yes. If you are going to live here, you better be able to have Jisung over. Sleepovers are a must for the two, if you need the space from everything to just be together and talk about all the little things.

“It’s preferred not,” Hongjoong answers directly. Immediately feeling a little bummed, you start to frown, making a mental tally of the pros and cons.

“But if it’s only Jisung it’s okay. As long as you let us know if he’s coming over.” Jongho quickly adds, ignoring the way Hongjoong sends a deathly glare in his direction. Jongho sends the look back, knowing he is in the right. Nodding at the extra information, you think about your next question.

“What is food like here, do we buy food separately and eat by ourselves or do we share?”

It is silent for a second before Hongjoong answers, it seems like he is the one in charge of the way things roll around here. Makes sense why they call him ‘captain’ “We eat breakfast and lunch separately most of the time, but for dinner, we will always eat together, unless we are busy with work or assignments.” You find this sweet and smile to yourself hearing this answer. It’s been a while since you’ve eaten dinner with people like a family. Always liking communal dinners, this goes as a pro in your books.

“I have some things I want though, if I am to move here.” You declare, trying to sound as authoritative as Hongjoong, but likely failing. Yet, the men around you nod and let you continue, with smiles on their faces.

“It sounds dumb, but you’d have to knock on my door before entering.”

“Done.”

“No eating my food if it’s in the fridge.”

This time Yeosang talks up, “We have some rules about that too, just make sure you put your name on it, and then it’s yours.”

Mingi also adds to the conversation, “And if it’s in there for longer than a week then we throw it out, just so we don’t have unnecessary space being filled.” This makes you feel relieved, glad that it is somehow so organized in this house. In your past experiences in shared dorms, you have always seemed to have bad luck with roommates. Eating your food, being unnecessarily noisy at ungodly hours, being overall dickheads and just nuisances.

“We have a question.” The nameless man is talking now, you try to make eye contact with him yet fail miserably, resorting to just nodding in his direction, hoping he doesn’t take it as being rude. “If you have any issues like illnesses or allergies, we’d like to know just in case we need to avoid certain foods and things?”

“Well, I don’t have any illnesses or allergies, just some problems with mental health I guess.” You disclose, uncomfortable to be sharing this information with so many strangers at once. Some part of you wonders why you even said it. They did not need to know that they meant physical illnesses. Whatever, if they are going to be your roommates they might as well know, you guess. The shoulders of the man who questioned you drop slightly, yet strangely he nods as if he already knew the answer. Luckily, they do not ask further questions about your mental state, much to your relief.

“Any more questions?” Hongjoong inquires.

“Please don’t go into my room without my permission. It’s not like I’m hiding anything, I just need the privacy.”

“That’s fine, we also prefer it that way too, snooping in other rooms is not acceptable here.” Hongjoong reacts to your statement causing you to nod and beam gratefully for the consideration.

“What do I have to do regarding the rent payments? Would I need to go somewhere so they can process my move?”

“We have that sorted out already, all you would need to do is sign a form and contract which I can show you later.”

“Okay fine.” You utter, almost as if you were holding in a breath for years. Around you, the five men look positive, hoping what you’re leading to is what they desire to hear. You continue, “When can I move in?”

Wooyoung and Mingi jump up from their chairs, Yeosang sits up straight, not believing his ears, Jongho and the nameless man seem to share a relieved look, and for the first time, you see Hongjoong’s smile reaches his eyes.

“I have one last question though,” You start speaking again looking towards the male who you have not met before, “I’m sorry I don’t know your name yet.”

His eyes open hugely, and he answers, “When they said you didn’t know about us, they weren’t lying,” he rises from his chair and makes his way toward you, making you ever more confused as to why his face is so familiar, reaching out his hand softly to shake yours, “I’m Seonghwa, and the other guy was Yunho.”

Taking his hand in yours, you shake his hand with a small smile on your face, when he smiles back, you swear you could’ve fainted from his beauty. You are starting to understand why this whole group is so popular. Seonghwa lets go of your hand gently, before turning back to his chair and sitting back down, though the beam on his features does not falter as he keeps secretly stealing glances at you. Deciding to reply to his comment, you speak up, “As I’ve said before, I live under a rock,”

“She said she doesn’t give a shit about us,” Wooyoung says, teasing you further.

“Hey, I said that I didn’t care about all the gossip and group stuff, and with no offence,” You glare playfully at him, bringing your finger up to your mouth to jokingly signal him to keep his mouth closed. His smile is contagious as he reaches up and ruffles the top of your head, the action making your heart skip a few beats. Immediately looking down at your hands, avoiding Wooyoung’s eyes, you miss the envious stares pointed at the second youngest.

“Do you not care about the rumours surrounding us?” This time it’s Mingi who talks. As fast as you can blink, the entire room is thick with tension, and you can feel the glares pointed towards the man who spoke up. Pondering on your answer for a second you decide to answer truthfully.

“I’ll be honest, I was a little worried,” The men around you deflate with sadness filling their hearts, and Yeosang and Mingi start to feel the familiar anxious feeling in their throats. You resume talking, “But in the end, rumours are just rumours, it’s up to the person hearing them whether they believe it or not.”

“What do you believe?” Seonghwa is quiet as he speaks, careful with his words. It is deathly silent in the room and you start to wonder why they care so much about the way you view them.

“I’m not sure.”

Wooyoung’s eyes start to sting, thinking of any way he can to make you change your mind, to see him for him.

“But so far, I like you guys, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. For now.” For the nth time today, the boys let out deep breaths they didn’t realise they were even holding in.

“So do we have to get into your good books then?” Yeosang jokes, leaning on the island with his arms, breaking the tension and causing small chuckles to sound across the room. At this moment, for a split second, you’re incredibly impressed by the fact they barely speak over each other, always letting each other speak without being ignored. They have likely known each other for a long time, you conclude.

“If you’re up for a challenge? Go ahead.”

“I like our odds.” Hongjoong turns towards you, leaning his body towards the island, smirking lightly. You are confused by Hongjoong’s behaviour and the way it seems to change so easily, but you are guessing you may have to get accustomed to it. The look he gives you is intense and almost seductive, if you’d stare any longer you likely would fall for him. Swiftly looking away, you glance towards your watch to check the time, 17:13.

“How much stuff do you have to move here?” San appears from around the corner, his ears are red and his hair is slightly ruffled, it looks like they had an intense discussion in there, he doesn’t look upset, but there is some emotion along his features, however, it is extremely unreadable and confusing.

“I only have a suitcase of clothes.”

“Do you not have any other furniture?”

“It was burned down in the fire, but the owners of the building are going to reimburse me for the lost things. I just need to go shopping when I have the money and the time.”

All seven men nod in understanding, and then Hongjoong speaks up. “If you want to move in this evening that’s fine with me. Yunho and I will go and help you grab your suitcase.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I can grab it myself, but I appreciate the offer.” It’s one thing to be travelling across campus with two of the members of Ateez, let alone people seeing them walk into your temporary dorm room. Already knowing whispers are going around about Hongjoong entering your class and demanding to speak with you, you aren’t too eager to fuel people’s gossiping needs. You also would rather avoid the person who just stormed out of the room with a bitter look on his face. Not wanting to start anything unnecessary.

“It’s really fine, I’ll get Yunho now,” Hongjoong insists, moving to go towards the room where Yunho is residing, he gets halted in his movements as said man appears in the kitchen.

“If you think I’m going anywhere with her you are wrong, the last thing we need is more rumours being spread so she can get her fifteen seconds of fame.” Yunho’s glare pierces through you, his full height peering down at you, causing you to feel incredibly small.

“Yunho we are going.” Hongjoong declares, his voice easily matching his.

“In your dreams,” The tall male walks nearer to you, stopping when he is directly in front of you. Wooyoung rises from his seat and tries to push Yunho back slightly, but he is overpowered by the taller man. Behind you, the rest of the males stand up from their chairs ready to intervene if things go wrong, yet knowing Yunho, they doubt he would ever hurt you physically. Yunho carries on speaking, “Just because they let you in here doesn’t mean you are welcome.”

“Yunho.” Hongjoong’s voice is stern and threatening, attempting to make Yunho back up. You flinch from the sharpness of Hongjoong’s voice.

“Just because they are nice to you, doesn’t mean I will ever be. You are nothing, you will never be. Stop trying to get into our pants and leave us alone.”

“Yunho, stop.” Seonghwa’s voice booms in the background, causing you to flinch again, yet your eyes cannot break contact with the tall man in front of you. The nerves in your body are on fire, you start to feel nauseous and dizzy. This situation reminds you severely of some of the past encounters you have had with your father. Yunho doesn’t spare a glance toward the two eldest males, his eyes solely focused on you. Finally, he starts to step back slowly. Letting out a scoff at your scared frame, he walks away, back to the room where he emerged from.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotions, you have no idea what to do other than speed to the exit of the house. Seonghwa attempts to stop you as you flee, yet you slip past him. Hongjoong storms after Yunho, slamming the door behind him, making you flinch even more. Feeling tears prick your eyes, you’re hit with flashbacks from long ago which you have tried so hard to push to the back of your mind. Hurriedly pulling on your shoes, not even bothering to grab your jacket on the coat stand, you escape from the house, tears running freely from your eyes. Seonghwa quickly runs after you, reaching you under the light of a dimly light streetlight.

“___.” Seonghwa’s voice calls out from behind you. “___,” he calls one more time before gently grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. Seeing the tears fall from your eyes makes his heart clench impossibly hard.

“Please come back, you shouldn’t be walking around alone when it’s dark.” Seonghwa is softly spoken, his hand not leaving your upper arm, his thumb unconsciously stroking your exposed skin.

“Look I know you’re not stupid, so if you were in my situation, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to live with someone who just talked to you as if you are nothing more than the dirt underneath their shoe.”

“He doesn’t mean it, trust me. He just has trouble with new people.” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“So do I, but you don’t see me talking to people like they are pieces of shit?”

“It’s been a while since we’ve let someone in our house, let alone live in it. The last time it happened, it didn’t work out too well, he’s just trying to prevent something wrong from happening.” Your features soften slightly at this admission, but still not enough for you to even think about forgiving Yunho and his actions.

“I know I said I was maybe going to live with you guys, but if he is going to be like that all the time, I am not going to able to handle that. It’s too similar, to him, I can’t relive that. You can’t make me relive that.” Your breathing becomes uneven as your throat tightens up in a familiar feeling of panic, flashbacks of the past flashing in your eyes. Dropping down to your knees, Seonghwa catches you in his arms, cradling your limp body. He understands your feelings, and your pain, more than you know. Yet, all he can do right now is comfort you, stroking up slowly up and down your back. Unbeknownst to you, Jongho walks out of the building, your jacket in his hands. Seeing you on the floor, tears falling from your eyes makes his chest tighten. Jongho reaches the two of you, bending down to squat at your level, he wraps your jacket around your shoulders. ‘

“Let’s get your stuff here so you can go to sleep early.” Jongho’s voice is gentle, just above a whisper, he sees you flinch at the thought of going back to the house which makes his chest hurt even more

“Hongjoong is dealing with Yunho, you don’t have to worry about him. You can trust me, ___. Hongjoong has a way of disciplining us” Jongho grabs one of your balled-up fists and helps you to stand up, Seonghwa momentarily missing the warmth of your body against his.

“We will come with you to get your things. I know you’re likely worried about people seeing us with you, we don’t blame you, you don’t want to be a target.” Jongho says.

Wiping away your tears, and calming your breath, you manage to get some words out, “I don’t care about becoming a target, I’m just not a fan of people talking about me behind my back.” I explain.

They both nod in understanding and then Seonghwa says, “You can’t have nowhere to live, ___. We can both promise that Yunho will never speak to you like that again.”

Reluctantly, you nod in agreement. “Okay.” You are surprised by the way you believe the two men so easily, trusting them faster than you have ever trusted anyone before. Of course, not fully, but you can see yourself trusting them in the future, which is weird to you. Very weird.

_______

Walking to the student dorms was an interesting experience, you get to talk to Seonghwa a little bit more learning he is taking an accounting course whilst Jongho is taking a marine biology course. What is interesting is the way they walk so closely to you, since you are outside of the school campus, you don’t mind the looks of random people who you are very sure don’t attend your school.

What you fail to observe is the way they glare at all the males who dare to look towards your direction, moving closer to your smaller frame. However, when you enter the front gate to the campus, the distance between the three of you disperses almost immediately. You feel glad that the two who took you are so understanding of your boundaries and wishes. Strolling behind you, Seonghwa and Jongho are in a distant chat, acting as if they don’t know who you are and just happened to enter at similar times. It makes you feel comfortable and pleased by the kind gestures they show. The trip to the residences is going smoothly until you are suddenly stopped by a very familiar face.

Your walking stops immediately, causing the two walking behind you to halt extremely fast, almost making the youngest trip over as the elder grabs his arm and pulls him to the bush to their left.

“Jeongin! What are you doing here?” You ask the white-haired male, glancing towards the bush where the two men have just bolted for, you see the head of Jongho sticking out slightly and start to worry. Peering back at Jeongin, his smile is contagious, his dimples showing on his cheeks, and you briefly forget the situation.

“I was looking for you, I need some help with this dumb biology lab report, I’ve calculated the results from the experiment over ten times and they are all coming back as inconsistent or inconclusive, I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. I was wondering if you could help me?” Jeongin looks desperate as he hands you his tablet displaying multiple tables with numbers displayed on the screen.

“When is the report due?” You question, praying it isn’t before midnight tonight.

“It’s due on Sunday, before midnight.” He tells you. Glancing down at your watch, you see it’s currently Friday. Perfect.

“Are you free tomorrow? I am a little busy right now.”

“I’m free in the morning, but in the afternoon, I have a date.” You raise your eyebrow at him, slightly proud of him for getting himself a date, knowing his awkwardness around people he has an interest in.

“I’ll see you in the morning then. Meet me in the library at ten?” The boy seems restless, obviously worried about this lab report.

“Hey Jeongin, it’s okay,” you place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, “we will work it out, just try to get some rest tonight, you need to look good for the lucky person.” At this the young male smiles and gives you, his thanks. He bids you a goodbye, before walking away, likely to his residency.

Looking around you for any sign of people, then surely there is no one near, you make your way to the bush and the sight almost makes you topple over with amusement. Jongho has his head in the bush, yet his entire body is showing, and Seonghwa is lying flat on the grass face down, his body straight and stiff.

“You guys can come out.” You can barely hold back your laughter, tears forming in your eyes. Jongho immediately appears from the bush, his hair messy leaves entwined in his brown locks. Seonghwa takes his time standing up, rubbing his back and complaining about his stiffness.

“For a group of people who is supposedly terrifying, you guys aren’t that scary at all,” you admit, reaching into Jongho’s hair to take out the loose leaves. Seonghwa secretly curses at the younger, wishing he was the one who put his head in the bush.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Jongho says, cheeks red from your actions, “Who was that by the way?”

Seonghwa and Jongho both have curious looks on their faces, mixed with something else unreadable. You are starting to get tired of the difficulty reading the eight men you’ve briefly met.

“That was Jeongin, he’s in the same friend group as Jisung,”

“Are you guys close?” Seonghwa asks, acting as if he isn’t interested but you can tell he is slightly curious.

“Not particularly, he comes to me for advice with dating sometimes, he always ends up dating guys who are huge red flags.”

The two men in front of you let out ohs of realisation, feeling suddenly embarrassed about their questions.

“Okay, you guys wait here whilst I get my suitcase.” You turn towards the entrance of the building, but quickly you revolve back around to face Seonghwa and Jongho, “stay away from the bushes.”

The trip to Yeji’s apartment is quick, just throwing the last few things into the suitcase before zipping it up and trudging it down the stairs because of course, the elevator is never in order. As you reach the exit, you use your back to open the door. Weirdly, as you look around, you don’t see the two you left there earlier. You start to think they have abandoned you leaving you to walk back all alone. Or maybe they don’t even want you to come to their house, only playing around with you. They only wanted you to feel secure so they could play with your heart.

“You look lost in thought.” A deep voice is heard from your right, as you look over you see Seonghwa with Jongho and your worries quickly melt away.

“I was starting to think you had left me alone.” You admit, feeling relieved they didn’t disappear into thin air. Your anxious overthinking dispersing very quickly.

“Sorry, we saw a group of people walk out of the building, so we quickly went to the back,” Jongho explains, feeling upset that they made you second-doubt them.

Jongho holds your suitcase, even though you told him not to, he simply ignores your complaints as he walks with it. The way back home is similar to the walk there, however, this time Seonghwa and Jongho pay more attention to their surroundings, knowing there will likely be some creepy men around this area during the late hours of the night, and make sure you feel safe with them. During the quiet walk home, you take this time to think about the past few hours, from arriving at the house to the tour and the occurrence with Yunho. At this moment you decide that you’re not going to cower down from Yunho, you will just live with it. You’ve done it before; you can do it again. Besides, you’re not alone, you have at least seven people who will be kind and welcoming to you. If this is the price you have to pay for an amazing accommodation, then so be it.

The second you reach the house, Mingi throws open the door, extremely relieved you decided to return, his smile covering his entire face.

“I made your bed up, I had some spare bedsheets so that’s what’s on your bed for the time being. We can go shopping for some ones that you like when you have the time.” Mingi smiles at you as you make your way back into the house. When Jongho and Seonghwa send him pointed glares, he simply winks at them, proud he was the first to add something of his own to your room. Jongho lifts your suitcase to your room, causing you to thank him profusely. Mingi and Seonghwa follow closely behind you into your room.

“Do you need help unpacking?” San asks, his head popping around your doorframe.

“I think I’ve got it but thank you.” You reply, hoping they drop the subject.

“Are you sure? We’d be happy to help.” Seonghwa insists, hoping you say yes, just so he can spend more time with you.

“As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer to sort out some of my clothes myself.” You admit, heat crawling up your neck. Immediately, the four men around you realise the meaning behind your statement, and apologies spill from their mouths too, hoping you didn’t view them as some form of perverts. When you start laughing, their hearts swell, happy they didn’t make anything too awkward. Eventually, you manage to usher them out of the room so you can start organizing your things. It takes about five minutes before you get a knock on your door, feeling a little exhausted from the constant attention, you take your time to make your way to open the door. When you open the door, Wooyoung stands there, a flustered smile placed on his features. In his hand is a plate of food. You momentarily feel bad for taking your time to unlock the door.

“We ate dinner when you were fetching your things, I made sure to leave you some. Next time we will eat dinner all together.” He hands you the plate, it is full of a delicious meal, much fancier than all of the instant meals you buy from the supermarket.

“Thank you Wooyoung.” You gratefully take the plate from him.

“Enjoy.” He says before closing the door behind him as he leaves.

You take your time eating the food, revelling in how delicious it is. It’s the first time in a while that you have had a homecooked meal and it warms up your entire body. You could get used to this.

When you finish your meal, you go to the kitchen to wash up your plate and get a drink of water. After washing your plate, you look up at the vast number of cupboards in the kitchen, not remembering the one which holds the glasses. Opening a few, you see plates, bowls, spices, pasta but no glasses.

“Looking for a glass?” A voice speaks from behind you, shocking you, causing you to almost scream out in surprise. You rapidly turn around to see who it is who spoke.

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?” the owner of the voice is Hongjoong. His face has an amused grin plastered on it.

“Uh yeah, sorry I wasn’t expecting you to just appear behind me.”

Hongjoong is standing directly against the island, just about a metre between the two of you. Silently, you wonder how on earth he managed to get there without you hearing him.

Instead of going around you to grab a glass, he steps forward, his chest almost colliding with yours, trapping you between the counter behind you and his strong frame. Reaching up, he opens the cupboard directly above your head and takes out a glass, placing it on the counter behind you.

When he looks down at you, your eyes are once again getting entranced by his deep pools of honey. Once again, his eyes are familiar to you. The familiarity of his eyes draws you in impossibly close, your mind racing around various memories to see if you can find a match for the mysterious eyes. Where have you seen them before? It’s almost as if you’ve seen them in a dream, vivid in consciousness yes when you try to remember details, it renders empty in your head. Trying to focus on the situation at hand, you stop your attempts of racking your brain for lost information.

Concentrating back on the man in front of you, he makes you feel awfully small once again. Hongjoong isn’t tall, but the way he’s peering down at you, trapping your body against his, makes him feel at least six feet tall.

“Thank you,” you manage to get out, before turning around and grabbing the glass with a deadly grip.

Hongjoong moves back to his previous position, resting back against the island. His eyes follow you as you fill the glass with water.

“Do you like your room?” Hongjoong is calm as he speaks, acting as if nothing had just happened.

“Yes, it’s lovely.” You reply, cursing yourself in your head telling your brain to make your cheeks cool down.

“That’s great to hear. I hope your bed is nice enough for you, I found it super comfortable.”

“Oh yeah! The bed is super comfortable.” Suddenly, his words hit you and they render in your mind, “How do you know it’s comfortable?”

“It used to be my room, the bed too,” Hongjoong confesses, smirking at the way your body language becomes flustered. This explains why the sheets were messy earlier, but that also means he was sleeping in it today. This very statement causes your mind, to again, burst up into a spiral of thoughts. Did Hongjoong give up his room for you? Of course not, why would he ever do that?

“Oh, that’s nice.” Your head is abruptly full of thoughts of Hongjoong residing in your bed. Why are you even thinking about that? It’s not like he is going to be in your bed from now on.

“I’ll let you get to sleep, tomorrow dinner is at seven. Are you able to make that?” The man with dirty blonde hair asks.

You can only nod in response, your words jumbled in your brain. Luckily you only have one class tomorrow, it finishes late, but you can for sure make it for seven.

Hongjoong’s lips turn up ever so slightly, and he nods back at you before departing the kitchen. As he leaves, you watch his figure move towards the staircase, not able to think straight. You would have been better off not knowing the information he just provided. Why would he even give up his room in the first place, did he move out of it because there was something wrong with it? Maybe there are cockroaches in the room. Then you remember where your house is, there is no chance there are cockroaches in such a clean house. What if Seonghwa and Yunho are super loud? Whatever it is, you are likely to find out soon. Now you wish you had asked Hongjoong why he moved out of the room. You decide to ask him another time, not keen on walking up the stairs after him just to ask one question.

Trudging back to your room, you place your glass on your bedside table and grab your phone that was charging. You immediately message Jisung, telling him that you two needed to talk tomorrow. If there’s anyone you can talk about anything to, it’s your best friend. While Jisung is a little immature and chaotic, he is a great listener when he wants to be. Even if he is sometimes all over the place, his advice is most of the time very good and reasonable.

Jisung immediately sends a message asking if you want to talk now, yet the tiredness of the relentless day has caught up to you and you manage to send him one more message before carrying out your night-time routine. Almost jumping into the huge bed, you’re pleasantly surprised by the rich scent emitting from the sheets. Remembering they are Mingi’s sheets, and also Hongjoong’s bed you feel flustered for being so close to something so personal to the boys. However, your thoughts simply disappear as you feel your eyes starting to get heavier. As you fall into a deep sleep, your mind replays the events of the day, you are excited about the future of you living here. Yet the nervousness residing in the bottom of your stomach is still there, yet you have high hopes it will slowly disappear.

----

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candycandy00 · 3 months

Text

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 2

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Woman on top. Bondage. Divider by @benkeibear!

Choso is so fucking cute. That’s the main thought in your head as you look down at him. He’s sitting in a chair in his room, his hands gripping the armrests, exactly where you told him to keep them. His shirt is gone, and his pants are open, his thick, pretty cock standing at attention, already glistening at the tip.

When you pressed him to tell you what sorts of activities he enjoys most, he finally admitted that he loves to be teased. So you read up about it online to get some ideas. If he won’t teach you, the internet surely will.

So today you instructed him to sit in the chair like this and watch while you strip, forbidden from touching you or himself.

It was a little embarrassing at first, even though he’s seen you mostly naked already. But now that you’re fully nude, and you can watch the effect it has on his body as his cock twitches and drips, you’re starting to enjoy it.

You move closer to him, so close that your legs brush against his knees. He looks up at you with such a needy expression, desperate to touch or be touched. He’s gripping the armrests so tightly, you can see the veins in his forearms.

Finally, you show mercy. You reach down with one hand and place one finger on the tip of his cock, using it to move the hot, leaky organ side to side. His breath hitches as you play with him, moving your finger up and down, watching the precum stretch between your finger and his tip.

Suddenly you grip his shaft with your hand, then slide it up and down. Choso groans and jerks, his fingers digging into the wood of the armrests.

“Don’t cum until I tell you to,” you say, increasing your speed as you lean over him, your tits practically in his face.

“Y-yes, Mistress,” he answers, sweat beading on his forehead.

With your other hand, you rub down from his shoulder to his chest, your fingers ghosting over his nipple. He’s so taut! Meanwhile, your thumb circles his tip gently, spreading his fluid around.

He whimpers, closing his eyes for a moment when you move your hand down his torso and then into his open pants, softly squeezing his balls. His cock is twitching so much in your other hand, you can practically feel his heart beating through it.

You keep stroking him, loving the cute sounds he’s making, the dazed look in his pretty eyes as he stares up at you.

“Mistress… please…”

“Not yet,” you tell him, alternating between fast strokes and slow, gentle ones. He’s breathing hard, his eyes wide. He’s just about reached his limit.

“You’re being such a good boy for me,” you say, “so I’ll give you a reward.” Then you lean your face down and lick his wet tip with quick, feathery motions before wrapping your lips around it.

His whole body goes rigid. “Ahh… Mistress… your tongue…”

You swirl it around him, then press it into his tip, as if you’re trying to dig out his cum manually. Finally, you pull away, licking your lips. Your hand, still gripping his cock, presses it upwards so that it’s angled toward his torso.

“Cum for me,” you say, and he does. His hot gooey load lands on his stomach and chest, then begins sliding down as he pants. You lean forward and begin licking it up, your tongue running over his smooth skin and tight muscles.

When finished, you stand back and look at him. His face is slightly pink, his hair disheveled, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He looks beautiful.

Once he catches his breath, he looks up at you with the cutest, hungry expression.

“Do you want something?” you ask teasingly.

His eyes shift to your pussy. It’s soaking wet after all this.

“May I pleasure you, Mistress?”

Ahhh! He’s so perfect! You keep a straight face while your heart pounds furiously. “Yes, you may,” you reply, moving to sit on the edge of his bed and opening your legs.

You’ve had him eat you out several times now, and it never gets old. The things he can do with his mouth… you’re starting to wonder if you robbed your sister instead of saved her.

But all those thoughts leave you when he crawls over to you, burying his face in your pussy.

*************************

Choso can’t help stealing glances at his doll as she moves around the room, helping clean up after their session. He can’t remember another doll who actually helped with this, at least so early in the training. She also practices at least a basic level of aftercare, asking Choso how he feels after they’re done and being affectionate.

All this without being explicitly taught to do so. Is it because she’s an older sibling, like him? Perhaps that instilled a more nurturing and responsible mindset.

He’s also pleased that she picked up on one of the most important aspects of this type of relationship so early on: asking what your partner wants. She has continuously asked Choso what he likes and what he wants to do, and has incorporated that into the their sessions. It usually takes several weeks for a doll to start doing that regularly. Most either command Choso to do humiliating things just because they get caught up in the power fantasy, or just outright refuse to give him any orders without a ton of prodding and coaching.

Maybe this doll is simply a natural dom.

She sits down on his bed and pulls out her phone. Most trainers limit their dolls’ use of their phones, as it can be a distraction from the training, but Choso has never done that. Like his current doll, many of them look online for ideas to use in their sessions, and he appreciates their effort.

But this one also uses her phone for other things. Her face lights up so prettily when she’s texting her sister. She’s smiling so brightly, she must have read some good news.

“She’s signed up to start college classes next semester!” she announces, looking proud.

Choso walks over to sit beside her. “That’s great,” he says, smiling with her. “It sounds like she’s getting her life back on track.”

“I hope so. Maybe this was the push she needed. If it takes giving up ten years of my life to get hers straightened out, it’s worth it.”

He looks at her admiringly. “You’re a wonderful sister.”

She grins, but looks a little bashful. “Thanks. That means a lot.” Then her face turns serious. “Can I ask you something?”

He nods. “Of course.”

“If, when Yuji’s grown up, he started dating someone who was dangerous, who was clearly making his life worse, what would you do?”

Choso considers the question for a moment, then says, “If that person was a real, legitimate threat to Yuji’s safety, I think I would want to kill them.”

Her eyes widen, as if caught off guard by that response. But Choso quickly goes on. “However, doing so would hurt Yuji as well if he were in love with them. So even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. I think I would just try to watch over him, encourage him to separate from them, and just be there when he needs me.”

There’s a warmth to her expression when she says, “That’s what I’ve been doing. At times I was scared I wasn’t doing enough. Maybe I should have called the cops and reported some of the stuff I knew her boyfriend was involved in. But getting him arrested would have made her cry. And sometimes I felt like I should just butt out and let her live her life how she chooses. In the end, I did neither.”

“In my opinion, you did the right thing,” Choso tells her.

“Thanks,” she says. “I’m really glad you’re my trainer. I don’t think I could have talked about this with the others.”

Choso laughs. “That’s probably true. I get along with all of them, but they can be a little… eccentric.”

Not long after, the two of them go to the dining hall for dinner. The doll insists Choso sits at the table with her, and she has forbidden him from calling her “Mistress” outside of their sessions.

“That stuff is fun in bed,” she told him a couple of days ago, “but otherwise, can’t we just be two people getting to know each other? I’d like for us to be friends at the end of this.”

It’s a very unusual attitude to take in this situation, but Choso doesn’t mind it. In fact, Choso is beginning to enjoy the normal conversations they share almost as much as their training sessions.

She sits down with a plate and begins picking at her food. He finds it charming how she cuts up her meat before starting, probably a habit from taking care of her sister. She doesn’t seem to notice him watching, instead looking out over the room.

“You know, when I first got here, I assumed all the trainers were depraved perverts,” she says. “Now, I still think they’re pretty depraved, but they also seem nice. I guess I shouldn’t judge people so quickly.”

Then she catches Choso staring at her and adds, “I’m sorry I made assumptions about you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s understandable, considering what I do for a living.”

She smiles at him. “You really are a nice guy, aren’t you?”

He smiles back. “I try.”

**************************

After discovering Choso’s stash of toys and tools, neatly arranged in a bottom dresser drawer of all places, you spent an afternoon looking through them and coming up with ideas. When you spotted a pair of shiny metal handcuffs, you couldn’t resist.

So today, Choso is lying on his back in his bed, naked, his arms above his head. He’s handcuffed to the headboard, his toned chest rising and falling with his breaths. You’ve already stroked his cock until it’s hard, stopping when you thought he was getting a little too close to the edge. You want to draw this out.

You’re wearing nothing but a cropped white T-shirt, so short your tits almost hang out beneath it. You can see it in Choso’s eyes - if his hands were free he’d be sliding them under that shirt. But he enjoys being teased, and you intend to make the most of it.

You climb onto the bed, straddling his legs, your body tantalizingly close to his cock. You haven’t actually fucked him yet, having enough fun with other activities, but you’ve decided you can’t wait any longer. So you scoot closer, until your soft wet pussy presses against the underside of his cock, standing straight up from his body.

He draws in a sharp breath, his head rising from the pillow to look down as you slide yourself up and down, smearing your juices over his shaft. Even just rubbing your slit against him like this feels amazing. He apparently agrees, as his tip begins leaking and his breaths come faster.

“Mistress, please…” he moans, looking up at your eyes.

You keep rubbing as you smile down at him. “Please what?”

He groans as you slide yourself across his tip, getting so close. “Please, let me be inside you…”

When you pause, hovering with your entrance directly above his cock, then lower yourself barely an inch, Choso’s hands jerk at the cuffs, his body bucking off the bed, trying to enter you. But you’re quick to rise up, denying him the pleasure.

“Bad boy!” you say, pulling away from him. He groans as his head falls back onto the pillow.

You wait for a moment, watching his cock twitch, before resuming your position just above him. “Can you be good for me?” you ask.

“Yes, Mistress! I’ll be so good for you!” he says, looking so needy and cute.

“Then I’ll treat you like a good boy,” you say, finally sinking down onto him, his rock hard cock plunging into you from below.

“Ah, fuck…” you mutter, realizing perhaps a bit too late that he’s bigger than he looks, more girth than you expected. He’s definitely bigger than any of your previous lovers, and even with him remaining still, letting you control the depth and force, it’s a bit of a challenge to take him all the way in.

But you do, sliding down until your bottom hits his torso. Choso groans, his head tossed back, his lips parted. “You feel so good, Mistress,” he says.

You begin riding him, lifting yourself up and down, moving your hips in circular patterns. Your own breaths are hitching now as you keep one hand pressed into his chest and the other snakes up your body, slightly lifting your shirt. Choso jerks against the cuffs again, his eyes glued to your body, clearly desperate to touch you.

He lifts his hips from the bed each time you sink down, thrusting into you. It’s the only thing he can do, but it’s hitting your sweet spot so perfectly. You moan and move both hands to his shoulders, leaning forward and bracing yourself with your arms.

“Mistress,” he says, his voice nearly breaking, “can I please… cum inside you?”

“Not yet,” you answer, your face close to his now as your hips keep moving. Leaning forward this way puts pressure on your clit, creating such delicious friction. Only a few minutes of this pushes you over the edge, and you cum on his cock as you say, “Do it, now!”

Choso must have been ready to burst, as he immediately fills your clenching pussy with his cum while looking up into your eyes. You drop down onto him, as deeply as possible, your body trembling.

For a while, the two of you simply stay like this, him buried inside you, until you both catch your breath. Then you ease off him, cum dripping out of you, and reach for the key to the handcuffs lying on the nightstand. You unlock the cuffs and Choso lowers his arms as you collapse onto him, lying on top of his body. His arms encircle you, and you think you could stay like this forever.

Later, the two of you are cleaning up when Choso’s phone chimes. He pulls it from his pocket and looks at the screen for a moment before a smile crosses his face. He looks up at you, beaming.

“Yuji is coming to spend the day with me tomorrow!”

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall @jakeywon @better-imagination-9 @wealwayskeepfighting @denenene @tomura-complex

#choso x reader #Choso #choso kamo #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader

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nsharks · 1 year

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a dark world (an ache to live) | simon "ghost" riley

summary: ghost fears death (because he has you). soap is there to make him a promise. tags: *ghost d words*, pregnant!reader/fem!reader, death, blood, gunshot wound, just angst a/n: this is very dramatic I'm sorry and it has nothing to do with my other fics. dad ghost is alive and well in those.

Ghost is quiet.

The Sergeant is not.

In middle-of-nowhere Russia, two souls trudge through the sleet. One leaning into the other. One talking to keep the other awake. With each step, their boots drag with more resistance. With each step, it becomes more of an impossible task for Soap to keep the weight of his comrade up.

Red footsteps follow.

Shimmering red. It catches the sunlight behind the clouds. It’s a crimson shade they are both all too familiar with.

Ghost, never one to accept help, now digs his gloved fingers into the Sergeant's shoulder for support. The heel of his other hand presses into the dressed wound at his torso, applying as much pressure as he can with his fading strength. Ghost’s deific strength— always a staple they could rely on, even at the worst of times.

But now—

His strength doesn’t seem to be quite enough. Not when the gauze has already been soaked through without mercy.

“Keep your eyes open, Lt.”

A grunt.

“Don’t think that’ll help.”

There’s something etched into the gravel of his voice that frightens Soap; a lilt of panic that he’s never heard from Ghost. Because Ghost doesn’t bloody panic, ever. Soap’s eyes flicker to the wound on his partner and he comes to a quick halt when he sees the growing stain on his uniform. He hisses a swear under his breath that pools smoke into the air.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Lt.”

Skeletal fingers pull back from the gore for inspection. They’re soaked and stained. Ghost is used to that— the red bones on his glove. Though, usually, it’s the blood of others.

“Gotta keep in every drop, ‘member?” Soap urges, and reaches over to press the wound for him. “Let me fix it up again. C’mon, hold yourself up for a sec.”

But Ghost only leans into a deeper slouch. The Sergeant stumbles from the immense weight of it.

“Would if I… could, Johnny.”

Soap doesn’t like that answer.

He keeps one hand on Ghost’s shoulder and abandons the wound with the other hand, only so he can dig through his med pack. Before he can grab the gauze, his Lieutenant is collapsing to the icy ground.

There’s nothing Soap can do to stop it.

“Alright, fuck,” the Sergeant hisses. He bends down. Ghost has slumped into a haphazard pile of muscled limbs and weighted tactical gear. “I’ll just take care of ya down here, Ghost. Stay with me, yeah?”

Frantic, urgent denial.

Soap drags the man’s legs out. Tries to get him more on his back so the wounded region is flat. He pushes up the bloodied shirt of Ghost’s uniform and swallows a lump in his throat when he sees the reality of it. So much blood— too much. He fumbles with the gauze but a lazy hand grabs his wrist.

“Don’t waste…” slurred breaths, “…my time with that, Johnny.”

“What do you—“

A tired scoff.

“M’dead weight. M’not… gettin’ back up.”

“We have to fuckin’ try.”

“Can’t… feel anything.”

“Jesus, think of Y/N. Think of your kid, Ghost,” Soap finally sputters out. He’s been trying his damned hardest not to think of you, nor the swell of your stomach that he noticed the last time he saw you. He worried he might fall apart if he did; he couldn't get them to help if he was broken.

“Tha’ is what… I want,” Ghost’s eyes dig shut. “To think of ‘em. So… don’t waste my time.”

A final order from his superior. One that travels through broken glass and shuddering ribs. The sunlight dips behind a grey cloud and they’re left together in this moment of gloom where time seems to slow down, two souls stuck in tar, and all Soap can do is obey his partner’s wishes.

Because he knows; they both know.

“Alright,” Soap mutters with a swallow of acceptance. He drops the roll of gauze. Moves a hand back to the bullet wound, presses it in vain, and nods his head. “Talk to me ‘bout them, Simon.”

Simon.

Ghost hears it. His real name.

A weak hand tugs off his mask. Underneath lays a face that his comrade has only seen once or twice before. Somehow, this face looks more like a ghost than the skull he'd ridden himself behind. A face with eyes that open in hollow, uncharacteristic fear. A face with pale lips that can move only enough to let out slurs.

"M'gonna have a son," Simon says quietly. Soap sees it now— the dribble of blood at his mouth. "She's... givin' me a son and I won't meet him."

"Jesus, Simon," Soap croaks. He reaches for his hand— holds it as a friend. A forlorn grip that Soap keeps close to his chest. "He's gonna be a good lad, alright?"

“I hope he... stays in school."

"Course, he’s gonna be smart.”

A weak smirk.

"Hope he gets... her looks. Not mine."

"I'm sure he will. She's beautiful, Lt."

"I know. Miss... her." His smirk fades. The notch in his throat trembles and bobs. Fear shakes out a whimper from him. "Wanna see her again, Johhny."

It seems only fitting, with his blood dripping onto the sleet, that the truth of him would drip out, too. A man rumored to be a beast lays here, whittled down to the version of himself only you ever got to see.

A version of himself that was afraid to die.

After years of aching for death's company, it has finally arrived. A reaper coming to collect him only after he'd changed his mind. For Simon ached for something else now: for you, for his family. He ached to come home and bury his face in your hair. He ached to touch his hands to your stomach and feel the fluttering kicks of life.

He ached to live.

And his comrade, with drying lips and salt in his eyes, could see this ache in each of his struggled breaths.

"Talk to me 'bout her, Simon," he begs, gripping his drenched shirt. "Somethin' good. Somethin' you love."

"Everythin'," his Lieutenant shudders. He doesn’t feel the pain or the cold. He just feels lingering adrenaline push out his throat in quiet spurts: “Her hair, her laugh... Fuckin'... hell. Love everythin'. Tell... her fo' me."

"I will."

"Tell her... Johnny. Don't want some," Simon softly wheezes and closes his eyes again. "...some random fuck doin' it."

"Fuck, I will," a wet promise. Soap wipes the salinity on his cheeks. "I'll tell her, Simon."

And soon a dark world begins to breathe into Simon's vision. He used to hang out in the darkness. Your light had gripped him by the shoulders and tugged him out. Now—

It finds him again. Old friends.

-----

A promise arrives at your door.

A solemn, dignified promise arrives with a folded flag, a sealed envelope, and a chain with two metal pendants: a dog tag and a ring. They clank together in his hand. And here, at the doorstep of his Lieutenant's home, a beautiful woman steps out with an unassuming smile and a hand rested atop the curve of her belly, and Soap doesn't even have the chance to say anything before your eyes gather the information you need, and the smile chips away into something horrific.

All you know how to do is scream.

And all Soap knows how to do is grab your hand, like he did for your husband.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #call of duty #fanfiction #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish #angst #tw death #tw blood #fem!reader

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underground-secret · 1 month

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The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f! reader

Description: Sam's nightmare leads the group to Saginaw Michigan. But it's more than a nightmare and it's more than any ol' hunt. Things are revealed about the past as it sends them barreling into the future.

Warnings: Cannon violence, I might have gotten a little too carried away with the beginning scene sorry not sorry! flirtation, banter, mentions of su!cide, gore, mentions of child abuse, mentions of past abuse, guns, a roller coaster of emotions, and a lot of angst (no one can be happy...sorry!)

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 9,912

Nightmare

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

I turn over in my bed, burying my head deeper into the pillows to ignore the loud and insistent banging from my door. I mumble incoherently into the covers, sleep having its claws so deep into my brain. “Please open the door, sweetheart. ‘m tryna give you privacy here but if this door isn’t open in five seconds I’m gonna use my key,” Dean warns loudly, his voice raspy. I hum softly into the bedding but make no move to get up, instead snuggling deeper into the blankets. The remains of sleep creep into the corners of my mind, hazing the rest of my brain.

Suddenly a gentle calloused hand is on my bare shoulder, “Come on baby, as much as I wanna let you sleep Sammy needs us to hurry.”

“Mhm,” I hum halfheartedly, digging myself further into the bed if possible. “Alright that’s it,” he says finally. There's some shuffling before the covers are pulled back, a rush of cold air prickling my exposed legs followed by the warmth of his hands dragging up and down my calves slowly before leaving to pull down my slip nightgown further past my butt. That wakes me up. My eyes flutter open, and as much as I loved my little cotton nightgown every time I wore it to bed I woke up to a full tit out and the bottom up at my hips. Luckily this time I didn’t think it rode up so high, it had only felt like it was just barely covering my butt, so at the most, he saw a flash of my underwear which is not the most ideal thing to happen, and also insanely embarrassing but at least I was wearing one of my cute pairs. And at least he didn’t comment on it, except he did pull it down further which means he probably did see…oh god.

“Okay! I’m awake Dean!” I say, my words half mumbled by the bed but if I turned over he would also be seeing a boob today and he had seen enough already. His hands grip my ankles, his thumbs rubbing my skin, oh lord. No. I have to focus…and not on how butterflies are erupting in my stomach, fluttering around frantically, “Not convinced baby, not until I see you get up,” he conceded. He was really playing with my resolve and it was a very fickle thing to begin with.

“Yeah, so if I flip myself around you’d be getting flashed. These nightgowns…just you know…” I admit, my face warm for two different reasons. His thumbs pause and I can practically hear the arch of his brow and that devilish smirk, “By all means, continue…”

“Dean,” I warn.

“I really wouldn’t object to it, wouldn’t complain one bit,” he comments, his voice dripping with amusement. “Dean!” His hands leave me entirely and I suddenly miss the warmth he brought, “Alright, alright,” he gives in, “I’ll go, be waitin’ in the car. I’d hurry though Sam’s freaking out about needing to leave but won't say anythin’ more.”

The initial embarrassment of being woken up the way I was or at least the result of that, as well as being a little “late” had long worn off except for when Dean caught my eyes in the rearview mirror then it all came rushing back. But I needed to screw my head on right, and not get distracted by his playful teasing manner, he was most likely compensating for the fact that he had to say goodbye to the woman he loved again. Ending on good terms aside those feelings don’t just magically disappear especially when it only happened recently. Either way, I was thankful for the nightfall's darkness, because with each gaze my face heated up even if it was against my better judgment.

I needed to focus.

Sam had his ear pressed into his phone, reading from a fake ID to potentially give real information, “McReady. Detective McReady, badge number 158. I’ve got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven…Yeah okay, just hurry.”

Dean glances over at his brother, concern written in his eyes, “Sammy relax. I’m sure it’s just a nightmare.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam remarks.

“You know considering he was right about your old house I’m pretty much convinced he’s right about this one too,” I add. Dean adjusts his hold on the steering wheel, “It could also just be a dream. Y’know, a normal everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won’t check out. You’ll see,” Dean tries to reason though I can't understand why he won’t accept that Sam has been right before and will be right again, my only guess would be fear.

“I mean I suppose,” I shrug, “but even just logically speaking unless you’re lucid dreaming you can’t read in your sleep, as the part of your brain that’s responsible for logic and intellect shuts down. So following that logic, he wouldn’t have been able to read or understand that license plate, that fact must hold some merit here.”

“Alright, maybe he was lucid dreamin’ then,” Dean suggests instead, finding any reason for his brother not to be a psychic.

“It felt different Dean. Real,” Sam shakes his head, eyes focused as he tries to explain, “Like when I dreamt about the old house and Jessica.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. You’re dreaming about our house, your girlfriend,” Dean points out, “This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?”

“No,” Sam responds.

“It doesn't matter if you've actually seen someone they can still be in your dreams because when you're walking around you're subconsciously watching and cataloging them,” I explain, “Though of course you're most likely to have dreams about people you see or think about more often, but still people you pass in real life can be in your dream.” Dean catches my eyes again in the mirror, gazing at me questioningly, “Why do you know so much about dreams?”

I shrug, “I don't know, it’s interesting so I just go down a rabbit hole of information. Plus there are a lot of psychological aspects to dreams which can make them important to analysis.” Dean shakes his head as if shaking away the information, “So why would he have premonitions about some random dude from Michigan.”

I rub my eyes, tiredness still trying to cling to me to the point of my eyes aching, “Yeah I don’t have an answer to that one.” Dean turns his gaze to his brother, silently asking him the same question, “I don’t know,” he answers. “Me neither,” Dean shrugs with one shoulder though it was more done to prove his point.

“Yes I’m here,” Sam says suddenly, pressing the phone closer to his ear. He goes silent, listening, then throws a glare at Dean and picks up his pen, “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. ‘You have a street address?… Got it. Thanks.” He moves his phone away from him, clicking a button, most likely hanging up, “Checks out. How far are we?”

“From Saginaw? Coupla hours,” Dean answers. “Drive faster.”

The Impala cruises to a stop, Emergency vehicles lined up followed by two medical examiners pushing a stretcher with a body bag on it just being zippered. We were late and it was hard to know whether it was by a couple of minutes or hours, but it didn’t matter because we were late and someone was dead.

We approach the crowd, a couple of neighbors dressed in their pajamas and a coat watching the scene from behind a line of caution tape. “What happened?” Dean asks a nearby woman.

“Suicide,” she answers, “Can’t believe it.”

“Did you know them?” Sam questions, moving to the woman’s other side.

She frowns, “‘Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine’s,” she replies, oversharing to a couple of strangers but it was helpful so there was no way we would tell her to stop, “He always seems…seemed so normal. I guess you never know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“Guess not,” Dean acknowledges, looking straight ahead.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say softly, maybe she didn’t know the guy so well but seeing him weekly still meant something. She nods in thanks.

“How did…uhh” Sam stammers, “How are they saying it happened?” It was a total conversation turn but once more it was necessary. “I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running,” she answers. Carbon dioxide poisoning from a car makes it hard for it to be an accident so of course the initial thought would be suicide and I doubt it would be easy to prove otherwise with a death like that.

“Do you know about what time they found him,” Sam pushes and I hope she doesn’t think we’re being weird about this and asking a little too many questions. “Oh, ‘just happened about an hour or two ago,” she says. Frick, frick that wasn’t long ago at all. “His poor family,” she continues, “I can’t even imagine what they’re going through.” I follow her gaze to a woman standing on the front steps crying against a middle-aged man. A young distraught man stands behind them. I could imagine what they were feeling and it was horrible. Grief was not pretty and those feelings were even uglier, leaving a permanent mark on your heart.

Someone tugs on my sweatshirt sleeve, I follow the motion watching Dean walk away following his brother who had stormed away. I follow them, making the quick walk to the Impala.

“Sam we got here as fast as we could,” Dean reasons.

“Not fast enough,” Sam shakes his head, a pained look painted on his face, “It doesn’t make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn’t a chance I could stop them from happening.”

I bit my lips, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Maybe it wasn’t about him exactly, like maybe it’s bigger than that. Sometimes that happens, remember what I said about oneiromancy or using dreams to predict the future? Well sometimes it’s not so literal, sometimes it serves as a warning or pointing you in a specific direction for whatever reason. Now I know your whole thing is different and more detailed than that but do you get what I mean?”

He nods, clearly thinking it over. “I don’t know though, I’m no expert but I’m just tryna say to keep it in mind,” I add. He shakes his head and sighs, “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” Dean suggests, “Maybe there’s nothing supernatural going on at all.”

“Then why would he have such a vivid dream of just some random dude dying?” I point out, immediately realizing my contradiction. “I dunno,” Dean shrugs, “Maybe it’s like you said, it’s pointing to somethin’ else.”

“I watched it happen. He was murdered by something. I watched it trap him in the garage,” Sam explains.

“What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?” Dean asks in rapid succession. Sam huffs, “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams, I don’t know what the hell is happening!” He was freaking out, totally and utterly freaking out and he had every right to be. “It’s alright Sam,” I say softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. ‘No matter how long it takes.”

He sighs, mumbling a “Thanks.” I couldn't imagine what he was feeling, I always knew who I was even if nobody else did. To know one thing your whole life just to be thrown onto a totally new path with no explanation must be terrifying. “What,” Sam says suddenly throwing a look at his brother who was just staring at him. Dean shrugs, “Nothing. I’m just, I’m worried about you man,” he confesses.

“Well don’t look at me like that!” Sam yells. Dean looks away, “I’m not looking at you like anything,” he retorts, glancing back, “Though I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Dean. Really?” I say.

“Nice. Thanks,” Sam replies, pursing his lips. With a small smile, Dean moves to the driver's side of the car, pulling the door open, “Come on, let’s just pick this up in the morning. We’ll check out the house, talk to the family.”

“Dean, you saw them, they’re devastated. They’re not going to want to talk to us,” Sam reasons. Dean pauses in thought, “Yeah, you’re right. But I think I know who they will talk to.”

I scoff, “Who?”

I pull open my motel door, the sun shining brightly behind the man in front of me highlighting his stunning green eyes. His arms are hidden behind his back, “What do you have there?” I ask, squinting at him suspiciously. “Oh, just a little somethin’” he smirks devilishly, gazing down at me.

“You’re scaring me,” I admit, “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” he grins revealing what he was hiding. He holds up a rectangular Halloween costume bag, the classic orange logo on the top, and a blonde woman in a nun costume holding a ruler on the other side. I look between him and the bag his smile never leaving his face a mischievous sparkle in his eye, “Sam and I are going as Preiests so we need our nun,” he explains.

“Tell me you're joking,” I say blankly, my face falling.

“Not at all sweetheart.”

I huff a laugh, pointing at the bag, “I’m not wearing that.”

“You gotta,” he replies.

“No offense to the nuns of the world, but I would rather be shot dead than wear that.”

“‘Cause it’s not cute?” Dean asks though it comes off more like a statement as he knows my answer. “Yes,” I answer flatly, “I’m not wearing that.”

“Maybe I shoulda picked up the slutty one,” he retorts, thinking he got me there. I cross my arms across my chest, wetting my lips, “You should’ve, ‘be good for Halloween,” I counter. Checkmate. He drags his eyes across my frame. my face heats up, “While I’d love to see to that, Halloween is months away and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Still not wearing it,” I say as sternly as I can manage, which isn’t very considering my mind trying to compute what he said. “Come on,” he grumbles, “what am I gonn’ do with a nun costume now?” He pushes past me, stepping deeper into the room. I close the door, turning around, “I don't know, return it? Or use it for one of your one-night stands, I’m sure you’ll find someone kinky enough.”

He looks at me blankly, deadpanning, “You’re wearing it.”

“No”

“Yes”

“No”

“Yes”

“I’ll just sit this one out, wait in the car or something ‘till you’re done,” I say.

“You’re wearing it,” he repeats.

“No”

“Yes”

“You’re not winning this one!” I throw my hands up.

“Y/N come on!”

“No!”

He groans, annoyed, “If you wear it I’ll buy you whatever book you want.”

Oh. I mean it’s only a couple of minutes of embarrassment and ugly clothing, “Okay, deal. Fine.” His wide grin returns, he throws the bag at me and I catch it, looking down at it with disgust. “‘Not gonna bite sweetheart,” Dean says as he heads out.

“Yeah, but I might,” I mumble.

I fixed the Coif on my head for the hundredth time, I should’ve put more bobby pins in my hair. God. How did Nuns wear these? It just digs into your scalp and the most hair you could show was just the very top, probably about three inches, the rest of your hair was hidden along with your ears. It was the least cute or sexy thing to ever exist, faces were not being framed.

“Quit poutin’, you're supposed to be a Nun, be happy,” Dean comments as he rounds the car.

“I look like I'm going to burn myself at the stake,” I huff.

Sam laughs, having to bite back the noise. “You look fine,” Dean says. I look down at myself, the long black dress covering everything down at my ankles and a strange-looking white squared bib thing around my neck, “Who are you lying to right now!”

Dean huffs frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“At least you guys look good, like really good,” I say maybe a little too honestly. Sam had his hair all jelled back in a cute little hairdo, he was quite adorable. And on the other side, it really must have been the all-black attire, forget about the clerical cuff and that damn silver ring on his finger that made Dean look so good. Otherwise, there was something deeply wrong with me and I’d have to reevaluate my life, ‘cause there should be no reason for a “Priest” to look so damn fine. Lord, I need help.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Dean declares. He leads the way crossing the street and walking right up the porch, he rings the doorbell that silver ring glinting in the light. Sam sighs, “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Amen,” I mumble.

The door opens slowly and I throw away my pout replacing it with a kind smile. The older man from yesterday stands at the door, blocking our view of the rest of the house. Now that it wasn’t dark out and I was far closer, I was able to take note of him: a round-faced man with dark eyebrows and a sort of buzzcut.“Good afternoon,” Dean starts, “I’m Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and this is Sister Kathern We’re new junior priests over at St Augustine's. May we come in?”

The man nods, stepping aside. “Thanks,” Dean says entering first. I give the man a polite nod, “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“It’s in difficult times like these when the Lord’s guidance is most needed,” Dean adds.

“Look, you wanna pitch your whole ‘Lord has a plan’ thing? Fine. Just don’t pitch it to me. My brother’s dead,” the man spits, his face wobbling with choked emotion. An older blonde woman appears, her soft hair only reaching her shoulders, her eyes etched in sadness, “Roger. Please!” she lectures. Roger moves away, escaping to some other part of the house, “Excuse me.”

“I’m sorry about my brother-in-law. He’s…he’s just so upset about Jim’s death,” she explains.

“You don’t have to apologize, we completely understand. Everyone grieves differently,” I say sincerely. Her eyes soften, a sad smile on her face, “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great,” Dean answers.

****

I sit next to Sam on the loveseat, Dean beside him in an armchair. Ms. Miller pours coffee gently into a couple of little white mugs, she hands one to each of us, “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all God’s children,” Dean replies smoothly, taking a sip of the black coffee. She stands up taking the coffee pot with her. Dean takes that opportunity to shove a bunch of cocktail sausages into his mouth, he was really taking advantage of her leaving food out on a little platter. “What?” he asks with a mouthful of food, responding to his brothers staring. “Just…tone it down a little bit, Father,” he responds.

Ms. Miller returns then, emptyhanded, she sits back down. Dean swallows his mouth full of food before talking again, “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that,” she answers her eyes already tearing up, “We had our ups and downs like everyone but we were happy,” the tears run rapidly down her face, “I just don’t understand…how Jim could do something like this.”

“I’m so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam replies sincerely. She wipes her tear-stained face, gesturing behind her, “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe, I go talk to him?” Sam asks.

“Oh thank you, Father,” she musters a sad smile. He rises, following the direction she pointed.

“Ms.Miller you have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?” Dean inquires.

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answers.

“The only problem with these old homes, ‘bet it gives you all kinds of headaches,” he comments. Her face washes over in confusion, “Like what?”

“Well, weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night,” he lists, “That kind of thing.”

She shakes her head, “No, nothing like that. It’s been perfect.”

“Huh,” Dean hums, “May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it’s just up the stairs,” she says. He nods, rising and taking another cocktail sausage before leaving. Now I was left to fend for myself in a social situation I wasn't totally prepared for. What do I say? “Is there anything I could do for you that might make you feel better? I understand how hard it is now.”

She tears up again, “I don’t know.” I lean over placing a gentle hand on her arm, “It’s okay…it’s okay," I say softly.

I enter the boy's motel room, following Sam. We had just come back from researching about the Miller’s house. I close and lock the door behind me, so grateful that I had been out of that nun outfit for more than an hour. “What do you have?” Dean asks, his entire arsenal spread out around him as he sits on the edge of the bed cleaning a gun. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as he works the weapons, I have to force my gaze away. Men should not be allowed to look good doing random tasks, it wasn’t fair.

“A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built,” Sam answers sinking onto his bed.

“What about the land?” Dean questions further.

“Nope,” I say, “There were no battles or graveyards, it’s not tribal land and no kind of atrocities happened on or near the property.”

“Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfer scent. Nada,” Dean adds.

“And the family said everything was normal?” Sam checks.

“Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the inferred thermal scanner man, and there was nothing,” Dean answers.

I sigh moving to sit at the end of Sam's bed, “Back to square one.”

“So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?” Sam questions.

“I dunno,” Dean answers truthfully, “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing supernatural about that house.”

Sam gets a pained look in his eyes, bringing his hand up to rub his temples, “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house,” he inhales sharply holding his head, “Maybe it’s just…Gosh,” he clutches his head, “... Maybe its connected to Jim in some other way?”

“Sammy you okay?” I ask, placing a careful hand on his bicep just as Dean says, “What’s wrong with you?” I throw him a sharp glare, way to word it. Sam makes strained pained noises, sinking to the floor, “My head.”

Dean practically jumps from his bed, “Sam? Hey,” he sinks right next to his brother in a crouch grabbing Sam’s arms, “Hey! What’s going on? Talk to me.”

I stand up concern running through my blood, “Sam! Come on!” I've never seen something like this before, it was completely foreign which only made it more terrifying. Dean throws a pleading look at me and I stand not knowing what to do, “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry.” He turns back to his brother, not saying anything as he holds on to him.

Then, Sam slowly removes his hands from his head, focusing back on reality as he warns, “It’s happening again. Something’s gunna kill Roger Miller.”

My leg bounces in the back seat. once more we were running against an invisible and unknown clock, running to save someone with little to no information given. And once more Sams is on the phone trying to get information quickly that will help us, “Roger Miller. Uh no no, just the address, please. Ok, thanks.” He goes quiet with the information before hanging up and reciting it, “450 West Grove, Apartment 1120.”

“You ok?” Dean asks, eyeing his brother in quick succession.

“Yeah,” he answers in the least convincing tone possible.

“If you’re gunna hurl I’ll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery…” Dean says, not really joking.

“I’m fine,” Sam answers still not convincingly enough.

“Alright,” Dean shrugs, dropping it.

“Just drive,” he says, looking away. He sighs, “Look, I’m scared, alright? These nightmares weren’t bad enough, now I’m seeing things when I’m awake? And it’s painful.”

“Come on man, you’ll be all right. It’ll be fine,” Dean comforts in his own way. I wet my lips, choosing my words carefully, “Whatever these abilities are, they’re advancing which is why it’s breaching into day. And because it's leaning more toward psychic abilities it takes a great amount of will, and concentration, and puts a horrible strain on your mind which is why it's painful. But the more you work on it the better it’ll be.”

He turns around in the passenger seat, facing me, “You have telekinesis, right?” I nod, his eyebrows scrunch together, “It hurt when you were first started?”

“God, yes,” I laugh bittersweet, “It just requires so much focus, more so at first, that I had headaches constantly. I tried not to use too much Advil, but they were definitely making a profit off of me, that’s for sure.” He seems to consider the information, turning back in his seat, “Then what is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?!”

“I don’t know Sam but we’ll figure it out,” Dean answers, “We’ve faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing.”

Sam shakes his head, “No. It’s never been us. It’s never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can’t tell me this doesn’t freak you out, Dean.”

Dean looks straight out the windshield silently, he couldn’t lie because Sam and I both witnessed him freak out before over it. Of course, then we’d all been younger, and he lashed out at me and when he left he hadn’t talked to me or apologized for months, I think it was about five. These sorts of things do freak him out, and sometimes I think the things I’m capable of doing still scare him sometimes, and that's just with someone he's friends with. With his brother, that fear must be a million times worse. “This doesn’t freak me out,” he finally says, lying.

****

The Impala pulls up across the street from Roger, who approaches his apartment's entrance with a bag of groceries in his hands. Sam rolls down the window swiftly yelling for the man, “Hey Roger.” The man turns around, the annoyance on his face clear as day, “What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone.”

I lean over rolling down the window opposite of where I sit, “Sir this has nothing to do with religion! Trust me.”

“Please,” Sam adds. But Roger is already gone, walking closer to his building. Suddenly the car jerks into motion the engine gunning as it makes a quick turn around, and with a bump Dean jumps the curve hurriedly parking as Sam jumps out running after the man, “Hey. Roger. We’re trying to help! Please! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.”

I get out of the vehicle, round the black car, and head to Sam’s side, Dean following. As Sam reaches the entrance, Roger closes the door behind him, “I don’t want your help.” He walks deeper into the building and in a last-ditch effort Sam yells, “We’re not priests or nuns, you gotta listen to us!”

“Roger, you’re in danger!” Dean yells after him. But of course he doesn't hear them or if he does he just ignores the warnings. God people are so stubborn. “Come on,” Dean suddenly says looking towards a back entrance, he leads the way as we run around the corner of the building to the back entrance, a door in the way. With a quick look around Dean steps back and kicks it open, the door bursts open with a crack.

Sam jumps for the bottom ladder of the fire escape, using his tall frame to easily reach it, he pulls himself up and starts running for the stairs. Dean turns to me offering me a cupped hand, “You comin’?” he asks. I shake my head, pushing strands of hair behind my ear, “No you go, there isn't enough room for the three of us on that thing, you go. I’ll keep watch. He needs you.”

He looks me over, before nodding and jumping for the ladder, catching up to his brother swiftly. Against my better judgment instead of keeping watch, I look up at them, a hand blocking the sun as they make it up to the second floor. Then all of a sudden there's a heavy squeak and slide of a window followed by a wet squelching noise. Sam freezes, Dean sprints past him and stops looking down at something I can’t see from down here but even so, I know it is Roger’s severed head.

****

“I’m telling you there was nothing there. No signs either, just like the Miller’s house,” Dean informs, once more the three of us in the car this time driving back to the motel. Sam squints his eyes, slightly, in focus, “I saw something, in the vision, Like a dark shape. Something was…something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it’s not connected to their house?” Dean asks, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“You know that argument doesn't really hold up anymore considering Roger died in his apartment,” I answer fidgeting with my fingers, “So it could be the family itself.”

“So you think, like a vengeful spirit?” Sam questions.

“Well yeah,” Dean responds, “There’s a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years.”

“Angiak. Banshees,” Sam lists out examples.

“Wouldn’t you have still picked up on something when you were snooping around?” I ask this time, looking up from my hands. “No, I was thinking somethin’ more like a curse,” Dean explains, “Maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse-worthy.”

Sam hums, adding to the working theory, “And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying…Hey, you think Max is danger?”

“Let’s figure it out before he is,” Dean remarks. Sam sighs, “Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks.

“Both our families are cursed,” Sam says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I frown, one because he feels that way and two because I dislike when people say that. Dean huffs, “Our family’s not cursed! We just…had our dark spots…”

“Our dark spots are…pretty dark,” Sam nods slowly. Dean eyes him, “You’re….dark.”

I scuff, “Well as dark as it was you don’t have to worry, curses aren’t real.”

Sam turns around in his seat, facing me, “You’re a witch and you don’t believe in curses?”

I tilt my head giving him a ‘really?’ look, “That’s not what I meant, of course those kinds of curses exist they are very real and palpable things,” I wet my lips, “What I meant is that this curse you suggest to be the reason why you suffered misfortune isn’t real and that goes for everybody. Bad things just happen. And I know you probably weren’t being too literal but still blaming bad things on curses doesn’t help you in the long run it just serves as an excuse for you not to face your problems and acknowledge the real issue.”

Sam looks at me with slightly wide eyes and when I look at Dean, his expression is more or less the same if not even more, “What?” I ask eyeing the two of them. Sam turns back around in his seat a small smirk on his face, Dean gives a little shrug, “Nothin’, just someone’s using their psychology degree.”

I snort, suddenly getting shy, “Shut up,” I mumble. The thing was I wasn’t using my psychology degree this was just me, not that I was embarrassed by my degree. I took education very seriously, especially college. So of course I wound up double majoring, one in criminal justice and the other in psychology, but could you blame a girl? Either way, I didn't like when people said things like that, blaming something on a force they didn’t understand and had no real play in any of it.

I pull down the sleeves of the black Nun dress, readjusting the material, “I hope you know this is another book,” I say closing the car door behind me. Dean seems to round the Impala quicker at that, “What?! No, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

I purse my lips, “Yes, but when we made that deal it was under the presumption that it would only happen once in this case. And yet, here we are again.”

Dean opens his mouth to say something more but his brother cuts him off, “Wait, you guys made a deal?”

I smile triumphantly, “Yup!”

Sam frowns a little pout to his lips, his puppy-dog eyes turned down, “Man,” he whines, “I should’ve made a deal.”

“You should’ve,” I respond, thinking for a moment, “You know what? I will extend my second book to you, you are now included!”

He shakes his head, “No Y/N it's okay, have your books.”

Now I shake my head, “No no I want to, nothing would bring me more joy than the three of us going to a bookstore, and while Dean impatiently waits for us and grumbles to himself we get to wreak havoc and choose books!” Sam smiles with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “That does sound like a good idea.”

“You’re an evil woman,” Dean grumbles.

I smile sweetly at him, “I prefer ‘wicked’ but I guess that’s close enough.”

He eyes me for a beat, tongue against cheek as if he is contemplating saying something but ultimately he looks away, “We’re meant to be checking in on Max.”

Oh, “Yeah,” I say leading the way. “See, this always happens,” he states, reaching my side in one stride.

“What happens?” Sam asks.

“Whenever you two are together we get nothing done,” he elaborates. I fake a hurt gasp, “That’s so not true!” I mean we could be annoying, sure, but that was our whole job especially since we’re younger siblings it’s just how it works.

We reach the door and he knocks before anyone can say anything more on the topic. Instead of Ms. Miller answering the door her son, Max, does. He opens the door wider, “My Mom’s resting, she’s pretty wrecked.”

“Of course,” Dean nods, stepping deeper into the house.

“All these people kept coming with like, casseroles?” Max says, making small talk, “I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know 'cause nothing says I’m sorry like a tuna casserole.” I bite back my laugh, very poorly, he caught it giving a smile back to me and Sam who was also grinning at the joke. Max gestures to the seating area his mom put us just earlier today, and just like then we all take the same seats, but this time it's Max in front of us.

A beat of silence goes on before Sam sighs, speaking softly he asks, “How ‘you holding up?”

His face drops a little, answering with a small, “Ok.”

“You’re Dad and your uncle were close,” Sam follows up, stating instead of asking.

He shrugs, “Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.”

“But not much lately?” Sam asks.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” he shifts in his seat, “We used to be neighbors when I was a kid before we lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

“Right. So how was it in that house when you were a kid?” Sam questions further.

“It was fine. Why?” Max answers, dismissively. He was uncomfortable, something about that old house made him uneasy.

“All good memories? Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?” Dean asks this time, skepticism written in his voice. Max shakes his head, slight panic crawling in his irises, “What do yo…..why do you ask?”

I recognized that panic. Knew it well. I remember wearing it, how it crawled over my skin. “Don’t worry it’s just a question,” I nod, noting his behavior.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy,” he replies suddenly more sure of his answer.

“Good. That’s good,” Dean answers, “Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off.”

Catching on Sam nods, “Right,” he looks back at Max, “thanks.”

Max eyes us, something between panic and questioning, “Yeah.”

****

We make it to the Imapla before debriefing, the panic in his eyes burning into my retinas.

“No one’s family is totally normal and happy,” Dean starts, pointing out the faults of Max’s response, “See when he was talking about his old house?”

“He sounded scared,” Sam answers sadly.

A chill runs up my spine, “More than that, he was petrified. And I don’t think it has anything to do with the house…”

“Yeah, Max isn’t telling us everything,” Dean agrees, “I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers.”

I shift my footing, fixing my pants (which I was glad to be in again) as I watch the older man named Rob in front of us. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Sam asks him.

“Yeah, almost 20 years now. It’s nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy,” he answers and I can’t tell if he wants us to be interested or wishes to keep out outsiders. Maybe the earlier, he seems kind.

“No, no,” Sam smiles, “Actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah, the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” Dean adds.

“Yeah I remember,” he responds, “The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what’s this about, is that poor kid ok?” That makes me stumble over my thoughts, “He….um, I’m sorry why did you word it like that?”

Rob frowns, “Well in my life I’ve never seen a child treated like that. I mean I’d hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk.” My skin curls up, my fears confirmed. My heart recoils, cowering away from the information and the thoughts. “He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of,” Rob continued.

I take a subconscious step backward. I don’t understand, if he knew why didn’t he do anything? Why didn’t he call the police?

“This was going on regularly?” Sam asks, his voice firm.

“Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the sepmother. She’d just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

I suddenly feel nauseous. He was finally free now but that was too many years too late.

“Now you said stepmother,” Dean says for confirmation. How could he not be reacting to this information?

“I think his real mother died. Some sorta…accident. Car accident I think,” Rob answers.

Suddenly Sam clutches his head again, grimacing. Rob looks at him strangely, “Are you okay there?”

He winces, “Uh, yeah.” Dean holds the crook of his brother's arm, leading him away as he throws back a “Thanks for your time.”

I blink out of what feels like a daze, mustering a smile for the man, “Have a nice day,” I say before catching up to the boys. But my feet feel heavy, as if cylinder blocks had been tied to my ankles. My intestines seem to twist itself into a knot, wrapped around like a bow. I clutch my shirt where my stomach is, my heart seems to beat faster an unnerving feeling settling itself into the vessels. I could hardly focus on my tense body and anxious thoughts when Sam’s head lulls back, his eyes doing that thing where you can tell he isn’t here with us right now. He’s somewhere else, having a vision.

****

I want to curl into myself and shy away from the current case. But we were in the Impala driving back to the Millers house and Sam still had to tell us about his vision. “Max is doing it. Everything I’ve been seeing,” Sam reveals. I should be surprised but I’m not, maybe it’s because of the newfound information.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks, almost skeptical.

“Yeah, I saw him,” he confirms.

“How is he doing it?” I ask carefully.

“I think telekinesis,” Sam answers.

“What so he’s psychic?” Dean questions, definitely skeptical.

“I didn’t even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died,” Sam elaborates, “These visions, this whole time–I wasn’t connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess—because we’re so alike?”

“What are you talking about? The dude’s nothing like you,” Dean responds firmly.

“Well,” Sam tries to reason, “We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

“Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he’s already killed two people, now he’s gunning for a third,” Dean exclaims. This was all getting very complicated very fast. “He’s not a monster he’s a kid. It isn’t his fault, he’s a product of his messed up childhood,” I defend, my voice filled with perhaps a little too much emotion.

“With what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I’m sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it’s not that insane,” Sam adds, agreeing. I nod vigorously, it isn’t insane, not one bit.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family!” Dean yells, his voice louder than needed.

“No of course not. But clearly, no one else was caring about him. No one made any effort to help him, not even the police! So you must understand why he felt like he needed to take justice into his own hands,” I argue. This was complicated, this was human. And humans, human feelings get messy very quickly.

“You're suggesting he's a necessary evil?” Dean counters, his voice gruff and on edge.

“Maybe, yeah,” I answer, crossing my arms across my chest. The car jerked right, driving up to the curb in front of the Miller’s house. “He’s no different from anything else we’ve hunted, all right? We gotta end him,” Dean lectured.

“We’re not going to kill Max,” Sam and I say at the same time, our voices overlapping. “He’s a kid!” I add.

“Then what?” Dean counters, “Hand him over to the cops and say ‘Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind.’”

I huff, “That’s not the point and you know it. We can talk him down, he isn’t a monster and I highly doubt he would kill just for fun. He’s angry and he’s hurt, he needs help. If we do that then we are just as bad as his uncle and his dad and the cops that refused to help.”

He shuts the engine off, pursing his lips and shaking his head, “All right fine. But I’m not letting him hurt anybody else.” Yet, despite his words he leans over to the glove compartment and pulls out a pistol. He glares at Sam as he gets out of the car. I catch his eyes, “Dean.” He looks at me, challenging me, before ultimately getting out and tucking the gun into the back of his pants. I roll my eyes, tongue in cheek, pissed. I get out of the car, joining the boys but not before slamming the car door behind me.

We run up the porch, Sam in the lead. He knocks on the door, and when no response comes he leans over the railing peeking in the window. He looks back at us and he does not have to say anything for us to know what was happening. Max was going to kill his Stepmother.

Without thinking any further, Dean raises his leg to kick the door in. I stop him, “Dude way to be inconspicuous. Let me.” He backs up a few steps, hands raised in defeat. I grasp the cold knob of the door, not needing to put much effort into getting the door unlocked. We rush into the kitchen, where Sam said Max would do it. Ms. Miller presses her back closer against the counters, her eyes wide and filled with tears and fear as she watches her son in front of her. Her eyes snap to us, “Fathers? Sister?” Ironically enough, we weren’t dressed up instead in normal clothes which I wasn’t sure if priests and nuns ever did. Max spins around, poorly concealing the large knife behind his back, his hair is a mess and his eyes match his stepmothers in fear after all he was caught. “What are you doing here?” he asks, afraid.

“Uhh, sorry to interrupt,” Dean answers awkwardly.

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam leads, fumbling for an excuse. He eyes us, he doesn’t trust us, “About what?”

“It’s….it’s private. I wouldn’t want to bother your mother with it,” Sam lies, “We won’t be long at all though, I promise” he says directing it to Ms.Miller. Max looks back at his stepmom and then at us, “Ok.”

“Great,” Sam smiles.

We turn to leave, making it out of the kitchen and to the front door. Dean takes the lead with his hand grasping the doorknob, pulling it open he smiles back at Max awkwardly. Then all of a sudden the doorknob is pulled from his grasp and the door slams shut, followed by the dropping of all the blinds for each window. Impressive. I turn around swiftly watching Max as he backs up, “You’re not priests! Or a nun,” he yells.

Dean draws his gun quickly, but without even moving a muscle Max uses his powers to pull the gun away, it slides across the floor and he crouches down to take it. He stands up tall, pointing the gun at us. Dean nudges me slightly behind him, I want to shove my way in front of him but he holds his arm out in front of me and I don’t feel the need to argue now of all times. Ms.Miller appears in the archway between where we are and the kitchen, “Max, what’s happening?”

“Shut up,” he bites.

“What are you doing?” she repeats, approaching carefully. Removing one hand from the gun he swings his arm towards her, using his power to send her flying back into the kitchen, she hits her head against the kitchen bench before sliding down to the floor. “I said shut up!” he yells at her unconscious figure.

“Max calm down,” Sam says steadily, holding his hands up in defeat.

“Who are you?” Max snaps.

“We just wanna talk,” Sam responds with instead. Max scuffs, “Yeah right, that’s right you bought this!” he motions with the weapon. Sam takes a careful step forward, “That was a mistake, all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max, okay? Just please, just hear me out.”

He eyes us carefully, “About what?”

“I saw you do it,” Sam explains, carefully, “I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened.”

“What?” Max questions.

“I’m having visions Max, about you,” Sam elaborates.

“You’re crazy,” Maxx huffs.

“So what, you weren’t gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” He challenges, taping his eye, “Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here, all right? I think I’m here to help you.”

His hold on the gun tightens as fresh tears run down his face rapidly, “No one can help me.”

“That’s not true,” I say softly, “I know it feels that way now, and I’m sorry it does. But if anyone can help,” I look at Sam, “It’s him,” I look back at Max, “Please.”

Sam nods, wetting his lips, “Let me try. We’ll just talk, me and you. We’ll get Dean, Y/N, and Alice out of here.”

“Uh-huh. No way,” Dean intervenes. The chandelier above us rattles, “Nobody leaves this house!” Max yells. I want to cut in, I could contain him in a matter of seconds a minute at best. He was skilled, but I certainly knew more than he did. Yet I know I can’t do anything, he’s scared so rushing him with my abilities won’t help. Treating him like a monster won’t help.

“And nobody has to, all right? They’ll just…they’ll just go upstairs,” Sam reasons, but the light fixture continues to rattle.

“Sam, I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Dean mutters.

“Yes, you are,” Sam answers firmly, “Look, Max. You’re in charge here, all right, we know that. No one's going to do anything that you don’t want to do but I’m talking five minutes here man.”

“Sam!” Dean intervenes again. I place a hand on his upper arm, gaining his attention fast and without words, not wanting to scare Max off, I give him a look and a nod silently telling him that his brother will be okay and that he can handle himself. His lip twitches as if he’s fitting off a scowl.

“Five minutes?” Max asks, the chandelier stops shaking, “Go” he nods to his stepmother.

I walk carefully behind Dean, waiting for him as he picks up Ms. Miller, I lead the way up the wooden stairs entering the master bedroom. Dean lays her down carefully, and I find the bathroom attached to the room. I quickly go through the drawers finding a small washcloth, carefully I wet it and ring it out before walking back into the bedroom to find Dean pacing the room, hand by his face. I approach him carefully, he stops his pacing when I step in front of him but worry is written clearly in his eyes, and in the way he hasn’t stopped biting his thumbs nailbed, a habit he exhibited only when he was worried about Sammy.

I raise my free hand to him, pulling it away from his mouth, “He’ll be okay, he knows what he's doing.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything as he takes the washcloth from me before moving past me, he crouches in front of Ms.Miller, lightly pressing the cloth to the small wound on her forehead. He was distracting himself.

I frown. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in his brother, he was just worried. For as much as this was for Sam it was nearly too much for Dean too, he might not be going through it but he was watching someone else navigate the messy plains of powers and the pain that came with it…that was scary. Especially since Dean has always taken his job as an older brother very seriously, doing anything and everything for him no matter the cost, he was meant to be his protector but with these newfound abilities Dean didn’t know how to help, how to protect his little brother– and that scared him.

I cross my arms across my chest, trying to think of what to say when I hear movement heading towards us. I turn towards the door, it creaks open slowly, Max’s figure standing right at the doorway the gun clutched in his hand at his side. I give him a questioning look, but his face is determined and there’s no Sam.

There’s no Sam.

Panic settles in my veins and before I can react Dean is standing in front of me, pushing me further behind him before he takes purposeful steps towards Max. The door slams shut and suddenly Dean goes flying left, barreling into the wall. Oh, two can play that game.

“Max!” Ms.Miller yells from behind me, having woken up in the short time her son arrived. Max points the gun at me with shaky hands, “Move,” he commands. I bring my powers forward, flicking it on, “Do you want to try?” I warn bitterly. He laughs, shaking, “Do you think you’re like me too?”

I assume Sam must have said something about that to him downstairs, “No,” I answer softly. He raises his other hand at me, flicking it to the left trying to send me flying too but I don’t budge. He looks confused and tries again but once more I don’t move. “Max please just put the gun down, this isn’t the way, I promise you,” I reason.

“You don’t get it!” he yells, shaking. I smile at him sadly, holding up my hands in defeat, “Dad drinks and he gets mean,” I say, “You think he doesn’t mean it, he’s just grieving. But it happens one too many times and you get scared.”

His resolve weakens and tears run down his face, “Your Dad?” He isn’t sure whether he should believe me or if I'm just lying to talk him down. I take a quick look over at Dean, who still lies on the floor looking at me with eyes wide, I never told him and I don’t think he ever knew.

I look back at Max, “Yes. My brother took most of it for me, but I reminded him too much of my mother and she was gone while I lived and that was not fair,” I swallow roughly, “I didn’t think he was capable. My mom loved him and he was never like that when she was around, but they did always say she softened him so maybe that’s why.”

“What did you do?” he asks, lowering the gun just a little. I go quiet and he does not like that, he raises the gun again, “Did you kill him?!” he screams.

I shake my head, “No. He managed that all by himself, he grew very careless.”

His eyes scrunch together in confusion, “Did you want to?”

I shake my head again, “No, I didn’t want to be like him. Didn’t want to stoop to his level. My brother though…he, um, I think he wanted to. But he didn’t. When he died, I didn’t cry at his funeral, I wasn’t as sad as I knew I should’ve been, and that alone makes me feel so guilty…” I take a careful deep breath trying to blink away the tears, “Please put the gun down, I know you're angry, you have every right to be. And I know you’re scared but doing this. It won’t help.”

“How do you know!” he screams, his face red, but it comes out weak.

“He’s dead and I’m still scared sometimes,” I admit out loud for the first time, tears slipping down my cheeks as my powers revert to it’s resting stage, “I think I hear his voice or that I see him in a crowd, and I know it’s not really him. But my heart picks up and I think he’s there, and I know what that means and I get scared.”

He looks at me, really looks at me and it is like looking in a mirror, our pain reflecting in each other. He lets go of the gun, but it doesn’t hit the floor instead it floats in front of him, “I’m not you, I won’t sit back and take it. She has to die, they all had to.”

His words feel like a stab to my hurt but I ignore them, “No, Max, please. It won’t help.” I don’t look away from him but even so, I hear Dean standing up and I can feel him getting closer. He puts himself in front of me again, I try to get him behind me, a gun wouldn’t exactly kill me, but he looks down at me his green eyes hard. He moves me behind him, looking back at Max, “You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first.”

“Fine,” he says. Just as the door busts open, Sam comes barreling in, “No don’t! Don’t! Please. Please,” Sam begs, “Max. Max. We can help you. All right.”

I move away from Dean despite the arm that he holds out to stop me from getting closer. Max is shaking, and sweaty, and tears run down his face rapidly. He looks at Sam with anguish, then his gaze turns to me eyes filled with a familiar pain. But his shoulders suddenly drop, and his face clears, “You’re right. It won’t stop.”

The floating gun points at himself. A loud bang rings in the room. Bits of blood splatter on my face. His body crumbles to the floor, a hole in his head.

I stare blankly at a spot on the floor, a small swirl in the wooden floors. Sirens whirl just outside, and cops stand all around us. His body was brought out in a bag. Yellow caution tape sections off parts of the house. Something light was placed in my hand, something to clean the…

Muffled voices sing near me.

He’s dead. I couldn’t convince him, if anything I made it worse. I should’ve said it gets better because it does and it’s not that common that I get scared, I can’t. Not with this job. But I didn’t want to lie and I made it worse.

I feel sick.

I couldn’t help.

He didn’t want to be like me. He’s dead.

He didn’t want to be like me and I didn’t want to be my father and he’s dead. They are both dead and I live.

I live and Dad would say it’s not fair. He’s dead.

A familiar hand nudges me forward, I walk automatically without hearing the voices. Something about…

He’s dead.

The car door opens and I sit inside, automatically putting the seat belt on. Someone says something and the door closes, voices say something outside, and then doors open and close. The car moves forward, the sirens get further away. Eyes look at me and I look at him.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

His body floats away as it burns like a Viking. He hugs me closer to him and we do not cry. We are free sometimes.

His body falls to the floor a hole in his head.

He said it won't stop and there’s a bang.

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avoxrising · 6 months

Text

The Feral One • Ch 10

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

I don’t know if I’ll have time to post tomorrow so I’m posting an extra chapter tonight. Sorry in advance for this one…

Content Warnings - Death, violence, mayhem, people get captured

After you calmed down, Finnick carried you down to the beach to spend the afternoon with the rest of the group. They all kept their distance but you were too exhausted to try anything. You ended up sleeping for the first real time in the arena.

You were asleep for so long, you woke up to find a fresh bandage on your arm and some bread from District 3 being split amongst the group. Finnick brought you some bread and water as he sat down to watch the sunset with you.

You can’t talk anymore, not even to him. It’s like your voice has run dry and nothing will come out. You don’t even know what you would say though. He seems content enough to just sit in silence with you.

Nighttime falls and the group makes the trip up to the tree again. Finnick lets you walk in front of him but he has to help you at some of the steep parts. You fight the urge to claw at him every time he touches you, despite the fact you are telling yourself that he is safe. He wouldn’t hurt you.

At the tree, Finnick helps Beetee with the wire. You sit down close by, waiting for something bad to happen. The game makers haven’t had a death in awhile.

You emerge from your thoughts as Beetee hands the spool of wire to Katniss and Johanna, instructing them to take it down to the water.

“I’m going to go with them as guard,” Peeta states.

“No,” Beetee states. “You’re too slow.”

They continue to argue a bit before Peeta relents and let’s Katniss go with Johanna. Splitting them up must be part of the plan.

They don’t question why Beetee doesn’t split you up from Finnick. He’s the only one who can control you. None of them want to go anywhere with you if he isn’t tagging along.

Finnick and Beetee are whispering to each other, putting you and Peeta on edge. What are they planning? They seem to come to a consensus when the wire goes slack. Someone must have cut it.

“Stay with her,” Finnick tells Peeta. “I’ll go find them.”

Peeta goes to protest but Finnick has already bolted off into the jungle.

“Do you think they’re ok?” he asks you.

You shake your head no.

Moments later you hear a zap and see Beetee sprawled out in the grass. He must have made contact with the force field. There’s a cut on his arm that you didn’t notice before. When did that happen?

Seeing Beetee, Peeta quickly takes off towards where the girls went, scared that you’ll be set off at any moment. A cannon goes off and all you can hope is that it wasn’t Finnick.

You can hear people yelling and screaming. People must be fighting. You’re too exposed here.

You make your decision, you have to hide before you go rogue. Bolting into the trees, you look for one that would be easy to climb. You find one a few minutes later but quickly realize that you can’t climb it with one arm. Instead, you huddle down at the base of it, hoping people will go towards the fighting and not you.

It’s minutes later when you hear the loudest boom you think you’ve ever heard in your life. Finnick is screaming for you but it must be a trap. Why would he want you to go close to the explosion?

Pieces of the arena fall from the sky and you realize this must be the plan Finnick was talking about. He must be calling you to the pickup point.

At this revelation, you start running towards him, colliding with someone in the process.

“Where’s Katniss?” an out of breath Peeta asks you. You point towards the explosion, guessing that’s where she is headed.

Peeta makes it two yards before a dart flies into his neck and sends him to the ground. You want to scream but are cut off by a sharp pain in your neck, followed by darkness.

You wake up to a white room, the cuffs digging into the bandaged cut on your wrist. The smell of this place is recognizable. You must be in a capital hospital.

The door to your room clicks open and Snow approaches with his guards.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he states. “I’m disappointed to see that not much has changed since the last time I saw you.”

You glare at him, which only makes him smile.

“Tell me what you know about the plan,” he commands. You shake your head. You really don’t know much.

Snow furrows his brows and a sudden pain flashes through you.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he states. “You know how much I value honestly. Tell me what you know about the plan.” You shake your head again and feel another pulse of pain, darkness creeping in at the corners of your vision.

“I see you’ve decided to be difficult again,” Snow chuckles. “Very well. Plan B it is.”

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 2

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Content warnings: age difference (15 years), explicit sexual content

Additional tags: oral sex (m receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, angst, internalized guilt, Joel Miller is emotionally constipated but Trying His Best. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Joel stops eating lunch with you after that day in the kitchen. You try not to let it affect you, but you miss him. You miss the easy conversation and the way he makes you laugh without even trying. It’s hard to focus on studying with him constantly on your mind, especially when he’s so close but just out of reach.

A few days pass without any interaction with him at all. He comes inside and immediately heads upstairs and the only reason you even know he’s there is the heavy footsteps above your head.

So you’re surprised when one day he comes downstairs and heads straight towards you, stopping a respectable distance away. He clears his throat and runs a hand nervously through his hair.

“Sarah’s daycare just called. I forgot it was a half day for them, I gotta go pick her up,” he says. “I’ve got grout mixed upstairs. I’ll come back as soon as I can, but I’ll have to see if Tommy can come watch her.”

“Oh. Why don’t…you can just…bring her here? I can watch her, if you need,” you reply. He stops his nervous fidgeting, hands dropping to his side.

“Really?” He asks. “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to interrupt your studyin’.”

“Not getting much done today, anyways,” you say pointedly. He presses his lips together.

“Right. Well, uh, if you’re sure. I’ll go get her now.”

“Why don’t you give me your cell number. You can call me if you change your mind and are going to take longer getting back here,” you suggest.

He nods, digging his phone from his pocket and handing it to you. You pass him yours from the table. After entering your number, you exchange devices again. You check your contacts, biting back a smile seeing the entry titled “Joel (contractor)”.

As if you wouldn’t know who he was.

“Okay, well. I’ll be back,” he says, heading out the door with a lingering look.

————

Sarah is sitting in her car seat, asking Joel a thousand questions about where they’re going.

“Daddy’s gotta work, sweetheart. But I’ve got a very nice friend who’s goin’ to watch you while he’s busy,” he explains. “We’re going to her house.”

“Oh. Does she have toys?” She asks.

“I’m not sure. She might.”

“I hope so. Does she have snacks?”

“Probably.”

Her questions continue in the same manner until he pulls into your driveway. She frees herself from her car seat and hops from the truck, running to the front door faster than Joel can catch up. She’s bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet as he pushes the door open, but she clings to his arm as he enters the hallway.

Joel checks the kitchen but finds it empty. He calls out your name.

“In the living room!” You shout back.

He’s surprised to find you surrounded by a couple large storage totes, digging through one and pulling out another box stuffed with what looks like fabric. You look up when they enter and smile brightly.

“Hi! You must be Sarah,” you say to his little girl, giving her your name as well. “Do you like Barbie dolls?”

Sarah nods, her grip loosening from her dad’s arm as you start to pull some Barbie dolls from one bin. Joel watches you tell his daughter about how they’d been yours when you were her age, and that they’re very excited to have someone play with them again. You open the box of clothes and accessories, Sarah’s face lighting up at all the options.

Watching you with his daughter feels like a fist to the gut. You’re so attentive and kind, patiently explaining the different dolls to her and their backstories that he just can’t look away.

It’s not until you look up at him and your smile falters the slightest bit that he clears his throat and says, “Alright, sweetie, you all good here?”

“Yes, daddy,” she says dutifully, focused on changing the outfit on one of the dolls you’d given her.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need anything,” he says, more to you than to Sarah. You only nod in response.

He trudges up the stairs with a lump in his throat and a vise grip around his heart.

_______

Sarah might just be the best kid you’ve ever met. She’s smart and funny, making up the silliest stories for the Barbie’s to act out. You can see why Joel is such a softie for her.

“Do you have anything else we can play with?” She asks after about an hour of playing with the dolls.

“Why don’t we head outside?” You ask, picking the toys up off the floor.

“Okay! Can I show you my cartwheel?” She asks, jumping up from the floor and trailing after you towards the back door.

“Uh, absolutely!”

She runs full speed out the sliding glass door, bypassing the pool and heading straight for the grassy yard beyond. “Watch! Watch!” She calls out to you as she plants her hands to the ground and shows off her cartwheel.

“Wow, that’s awesome, Sarah!” You call out. You dig in the pool storage and pull out a forgotten soccer ball that you’re pretty sure has been in there since high school. It’s a little flat, but it’ll do.

Sarah continues to do cartwheels through the yard while you kick the ball around. She catches sight of what you’re doing and runs over to join, watching as you demonstrate some of the footwork from high school sitting in the recesses of your mind.

Sarah eventually starts to complain about being hungry, so you head back inside to set up a snack for her. “Give me one second, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

You jog up the stairs and head to your parent’s room. Joel’s wiping the excess grout from the shower tile he’s just laid when you tap on the doorframe to get his attention. He looks up at you in surprise, dropping the wet sponge in the bucket and standing.

“Hey. I was just about to make a snack for Sarah and I wanted to make sure she doesn’t have any allergies or anything?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment before taking a step closer, hand wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging your lips to his.

You’re surprised but your traitorous body responds before your brain can, your lips moving hungrily against his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He presses you back against the door frame, his calloused and slightly damp hands coming up to grip your face and angling it to his liking. His tongue slips past your lips and tangles with yours, making you whimper.

He pulls away all too soon, smoothing a hand against your hair as he stares into your eyes, his breathing quick and labored.

“No…no allergies,” he finally says. You huff out a laugh.

“Right…you could have just said that,” you joke. He cracks a smile.

“Get back downstairs. I’ll be done soon.”

________

Joel tried to do the respectable thing. He really did. He was going to let that one slip up be left in the past, move on with a perfectly normal working relationship. No more lunches, no more lingering in the doorway to talk to you when he comes in the morning and you’re still sleepy, sipping your coffee that’s more sugar than anything. No more after dark thoughts of you as he lays in bed palming his cock. Just him and the bathroom remodel.

But then you’d offered to look after Sarah, and you could have easily stuck her in front of the TV while you went about your day, but you gave her your undivided attention. He’d watched from the window as you showed her some fancy soccer footwork that he didn’t even know you knew how to do. You cheered for her when she landed six cartwheels in a row and then laughed when she crashed to the ground, dizzy and giggling. He’d watched you run around the yard with her on your back, a pool noodle held in her hand as she commanded you to charge forward.

And just like it always does when it comes to you, the weak walls of his resolve crumble around him.

To top it all off, you came upstairs to ask him the most innocent but thoughtful question and goddamnit, he can’t do this. He had to kiss you.

Now that you’re no longer standing in front of him, the logical part of his brain kicks back on and the guilt returns. What the hell is expecting out of this? He’s here temporarily, for a job, and so are you. You’ll return to school at the end of the summer and he’ll be here…what? Pining after a girl fifteen years his junior who could have any number of men her age falling at her feet?

Joel scrubs a hand over his face. Much as he hates to admit it, he’s going to have to man up and have a real conversation about all this. He pulls his phone from his pocket and shoots a text to Tommy to see if he can come over and keep an eye on Sarah tonight after she goes to bed.

________

Joel comes down about thirty minutes later and Sarah runs towards him, throwing her arms around his legs and hugging me tightly.

“We had so much fun, daddy! She watched me do all my cartwheels and we played calgary!”

You snort. “Cavalry, sweetie,” you correct.

“That!” She exclaims. Her head tilts back to look up at her dad with big brown eyes so full of love it makes your stomach flip.

“It sounds like you had a great day, baby,” Joel says, running a hand over her curly brown hair. “It’s time we head out.”

She pouts and Joel hits her with a look that’s so quintessentially dad that you have to bite back a laugh. The young girl sighs dramatically before stomping out of the room towards the front door.

Joel reaches a hand out towards you and you step forward, slipping your hand into his. “Can I come over later? To talk?” He asks quietly, fingers tangling with yours.

“S-sure,” you reply. He gives you one last nod before he lets go of your hand, heading out the door after Sarah.

_______

Tommy comes over around 8:00 that evening, after Sarah’s in bed following another chapter of James and the Giant Peach. He lets himself in, joining Joel in the kitchen where he’s cleaning up after dinner.

“Where ya off to this late, old man?” Tommy asks, opening the freezer and peering inside. “No ice cream?”

“Get outta my fridge,” Joel snaps, whacking him with the dish towel in his hands. “And none of your business, nosy lil shit.”

Tommy holds his hands up in surrender. “Geez, touchy.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go riflin’ through the pantry, either, I already hid the cookies.”

Tommy’s annoyed groan follows him out the door. In the truck, he finds your name in his contacts and opens a new text thread.

On my way.

_______

Your phone chimes on the coffee table, screen lighting with a message notification from Joel letting you know he’s on his way. It’s the first time he’s ever contacted you by phone, and you smile down at the brand new text thread despite the dry, no nonsense message.

You fight the urge to reply, fidgeting in your seat with nerves. You have nothing else to focus your attention on as you wait for Joel to show up. You’ve already cleaned up after dinner and your second glass of wine sits on the coffee table. You’ve changed into your pajamas, a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized UT t-shirt you’d stolen from an ex-boyfriend.

The man himself puts you out of your misery with a soft knock at your front door. You open it to find Joel standing there in another pair of jeans, dark wash instead of the light wash work pair he usually wears, and a soft looking flannel, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes roam your body, every place they linger tingling under his gaze. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m surprised you didn’t just use the key.”

“Key is for the job. This ain’t part of the job.”

“Right,” you mumble, trailing behind him as he heads for the kitchen. “You want anything to drink? I’ve got beer.”

“Sure.”

You grab a can from the fridge and carry it with you to the living room, setting it beside your glass of wine on the coffee table. You take a seat, folding your legs under you. Joel stands near the doorway, like he’s not sure whether to sit or make an escape.

Finally, he joins you on the couch, a healthy cushion length of distance between your bodies. He smooths his palms over his thighs before grabbing the can of beer and popping the top.

“So…you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the tense silence. He sighs.

“I wanted to apologize. For what happened the other day,” he says, staring at the can of beer like it’ll say the words for him. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. After.”

You remain quiet. It had been shitty, getting left behind, all the adrenaline leaving your body and making you feel untethered. You’d cleaned yourself up and hidden in your room the rest of the afternoon, curled up in your bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doin’ here,” he confesses.

“Sure felt like you knew what you were doing,” you comment. Your smile is smug as you watch his cheeks heat.

“What I mean is,” he continues, throwing you a sharp look that reminds you of the one he’d used on Sarah that afternoon, “I don’t know what you’d want with a guy like me, baby. You’re goin’ back to school in a month, you’ve got dreams and goals I couldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, and you’re just a kid—“

“Don’t call me kid, Joel. I’m a grown fuckin’ woman, and I don’t need you making choices for me out of your own guilt.”

Joel clenches his jaw, his grip on the can of beer going tight enough to dent the aluminum.

“I don’t feel guilty about wanting you, Joel. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it. We don’t have to define anything, we just…go at this with no rules. See what happens.” You shuffle closer to him, walking across the cushions on your knees until you’re kneeling beside him.

“No rules?” He asks. You can practically taste your victory.

You lean closer, bringing your palm up to turn his face towards you, his lips parting slightly as his eyes search yours.

“No rules,” you whisper.

________

This didn’t go at all as Joel had planned. He’d been intent on coming over here, apologizing for his behavior, and explaining that he wouldn’t be sending you any further mixed signals. That all of this had to stop.

But instead, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his lap, his lips pressed to yours to swallow your gasp. His hands shift the long hem of your shirt out of his way so that he can grip your ass and drag you closer.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to get them undone. Your mouth leaves his to plant kisses to his jaw and down his neck, your teeth nipping as you go. Joel groans your name, his hips flexing as you push apart his shirt to expose his chest to your greedy hands.

Your nails scrape down his pecs, catching on his nipples and making him hiss, his head dropping back against the back of the couch.

Your weight leaves his lap and he looks up, ready to complain and haul your ass back where it belongs. But you’re dropping to your knees between his spread legs and looking up at him through your lashes as your hands smooth up his thighs.

“I want you in my mouth, Joel,” you tell him, voice pitched low. “I think about it a lot. What it would be like to suck your cock.”

“God, baby, I think about it, too,” Joel confesses, hips thrusting as you undo his belt and fly. He helps you shove his pants down far enough that his cock springs free, slapping lewdly against his stomach. “Put your mouth on me, sweetheart.”

Joel should have known you wouldn’t make this easy. You don’t listen to his plea. Instead, you wrap your delicate little hand around his throbbing length and give it a few leisurely pumps that have him gritting his teeth.

Then, holding his dick steady, you lean forward to grace him with just one little kitten lick to his head, tongue swiping through the bead of precum that’s already pooled at the slit. Your eyelids flutter and you hum appreciatively and Joel has to fucking will himself not to come all over your pretty face.

“You’re such a lil fuckin’ tease, aren’t ya,” he bites out. You give him your most saccharine smile, the mischievous glint in your eye unmistakable.

He places a hand on your head, fingers flexing against your scalp but not pressing or directing. No, this is your show and he knows that.

You lick up the underside of his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth. He groans at the sensation, the tight wet heat the best thing he’s ever felt.

At least for now.

You show him no mercy, taking him as far back into your throat as you can before coming up for air and circling the head with your tongue before diving back down. You gag a couple times, each time making your throat tighten around the head of his cock and making him moan out your name.

Joel catches movement below and lifts his head further to see your hand wiggle its way into those little sleep shorts you’re wearing. “Are you wet, baby? Did you soak yourself just sucking my cock?”

You nod, mouth too full to respond with words. You look so goddamn pretty with your mouth stretched around his thick length, your lashes wet with tears.

“You wanna come with me, sweet girl?” You nod. “Listen to me, then. Slide just one finger into that pretty cunt for me, okay?”

You nod again, doing as you’re told. He can’t see anything past this giant t-shirt you’re wearing and he growls in frustration.

“Bet that feels good, huh, darlin’? Ridin’ your fingers with my cock stuffed down your throat. Add another finger for me, that’s it.” You moan around his length, the vibrations nearly sending him over the edge.

“Can you take a third finger for me? We gotta get you nice and stretched if you’re gonna take my cock someday soon.” You give a little whimper as your motions pause while you work a third finger into your pussy. “That’s it, Christ, you look like fuckin’ sin, sweetheart.”

Eyes shut, you work your hand in the same rhythm as your mouth. When you start to get sloppy, Joel begins to thrust into your mouth.

“Focus on yourself, that’s it. You just worry about makin’ yourself come all over your fingers and I’ll worry about fillin’ this gorgeous fuckin’ mouth.”

With your other hand free, you use it to rub fast circles on your clit. It only takes Joel a few shallow thrusts before he’s spilling down your throat and you’re swallowing around him as you reach your own peak and crash through the ecstasy.

Joel waits until your limbs start to go limp before hauling you back into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Wow,” you mumble against his shoulder, making him grin. You pull back to look at him and Joel hates the bit of fear hiding in the back of your gaze. “You don’t…have to leave right now, right?”

“No, baby, I can stay with you a bit longer.”

Joel’s fingers scratch lightly down your back, making you wiggle appreciatively. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Where’s this shirt from?” He asks innocently.

“Oh, it’s an ex’s shirt,” you murmur sleepily. Joel hums.

“Maybe I have one rule,” Joel says just as you’re nodding off.

“Hmm?”

“We’re getting rid of this fuckin’ shirt.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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aquaquadrant · 1 year

Note

How would htp!Tango go with the bit from Limited Life episode 4 when he's running from everyone?

How would it be different from the actual scene?

(not canon to HTP ofc because the timelines don’t match up but HEY i like angst)

"tango!" skizz calls desperately, peering out over the ocean. he could’ve sworn he’d heard tango’s voice when he came this way, but the range of amplification their voices get from the proximity mod can be a little tricky sometimes-

“skizz?”

tango’s voice crackles out of skizz’s communicator; he must be in range, after all. but skizz doesn’t relax just yet. crouching by the water’s edge, he scans the waves intently. his grip tightens around his axe.

"alright, where are you, dude?" he asks, voice low. he keeps the horizon in his periphery; he can just barely make out the horde of yellow names off on the distant shore, digging and searching for tango.

“r- right below you.” tango’s voice is shaky; probably from the adrenaline. being hunted by almost the entire server isn’t exactly a picnic. “where- is impulse with you? or- or etho?”

skizz shakes his head, even though he knows tango can’t see it. “no dude, they’re running interference, okay, but it won’t be long before the others see me over here.” he swallows. “you gotta let me kill you.”

there’s a brief silence.

“okay.” tango’s voice is barely audible. the tone of it gives skizz pause; that sounds like more than just nerves. “okay, o- okay, fine, i’m- i’m fine with that.”

“are you?” skizz asks, his brows furrowing.

“i…” there’s a shuddering exhale. “i don’t- i’d rather it be you, if- if i’m honest. the others, they might…” he breaks off, making a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “y- you know.”

there’s definitely something wrong. skizz’s heart is starting to pound, but he keeps his voice steady. “alright, yeah. this is gonna stick it to them so bad.” he lifts his communicator up and peers through its lens. “can you give me a quick tag, buddy?”

tango doesn’t reply, but skizz sees the flash of a gamer tag beneath the ocean before it vanishes again. tango’s not taking any chances, apparently. not that skizz can blame him.

“you’re pretty deep underwater, dude,” skizz informs him regretfully. “and i don’t- ugh, i don’t have my stupid shovel.”

tango inhales sharply. “i- i can’t- uh, can you…?”

“okay,” skizz murmurs. he knows tango won’t be harmed by water like a real blaze, but it’s uncomfortable even on the best of days and that’d be a lot to ask of him right now. “alright, i’ll come to you. stay put, okay?”

“okay,” tango whispers.

“there a hole for me, buddy?” skizz asks, putting his axe away.

“yes.”

“alright.” skizz straightens up, folding his wing tightly against his body. even one wing will cause a lot of drag underwater and he’s already not looking forward to soggy feathers. “i’m on my way, just hang on.”

taking a deep breath, skizz dives into the ocean.

salt stings his eyes as he swims towards the sand at the bottom. it’s darker down here than he’s expecting for midday, only the faint glow from his halo allowing him to see. he starts digging as soon as he reaches the bottom, hoping he’s in the right place. he’s acutely aware of how long he can hold his breath for and the last thing he needs is a stupid drowning death to steal even more time from him-

a figure enters his field of vision, making him jolt. it’s scott, his freshly yellow timer barely visible in the deep. still holding his breath, skizz equips his axe.

scott actually rolls his eyes. “i’m not gonna kill him, don’t worry.” his voice carries well underwater, and he doesn’t seem to have trouble breathing. must be due to those recently acquired gills of his.

well, that’s fortunate. skizz nods quickly and puts his axe away before resuming his digging. to his surprise, scott floats down next to him and starts helping, his webbed fingers making easy work of the sand. after a couple seconds, they’ve cleared enough sand for skizz to see a hold in the underlying stone, with a faint light beyond it. lungs burning, skizz dives for it.

he makes it through right as the first damage hits him, head breaking through the water with a gasp. kicking against the current, he finally emerges from the ocean. gravity once again takes hold of him. he flops onto the damp stone floor quite ungracefully, his wing heavy and pulling him slightly off-balance.

skizz hauls himself to his feet, dripping wet and catching his breath, and looks around the cave tango’s carved out for himself. it’s tiny, with just three blocks between them, and lit only by the glow of tango’s blaze rods. they’re redder than usual and roaring with flames, whirling above his head in agitation- the way a blaze spins before it starts shooting fireballs.

tango himself doesn’t seem to be doing any better. he’s crouched against a corner, his arms wrapped around his knees, claws digging into his skin. his pupils are blown, so much so that it almost makes his wide eyes look completely black. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, and the noise that comes with each breath sounds disturbingly like a blaze. his mouth hangs slightly parted as he pants, lips drawn back to show his sharp teeth- like a wolf does. but there’s no ferocity in his expression; just sick fear.

altogether, the sight sends a chill down skizz’s spine. it’s like he’s looking at an animal; a cornered, terrified, wild animal. there have been things in the past tango’s reacted strangely to, sure, but skizz has never seen it this bad before. god, he wishes impulse was here.

“hey, tango,” skizz says softly.

for a moment, tango just stares at skizz. then his eyes dart to the side, to the hole in the stone. belatedly, skizz realizes what’s got tango so concerned.

“scott,” he calls carefully, keeping his gaze on tango, “just uh, just stay out there, okay, dude?”

a dark shadow passes by the hole before vanishing. “you’re fine, just get on with it!”

skizz swallows. he stays where he is. “tango, buddy, you okay? talk to me.”

tango’s gaze cuts back to skizz. “is martyn…?”

“no, no martyn,” skizz assures him.

tango takes a shaky breath. “i killed him,” he says hoarsely. “he- he’ll want revenge. and- and the other yellows- you have to kill me, before they find me. skizz, please.”

“hey, hey, hey, it’s alright,” skizz soothes, despite the way his heart feels like it’s twisting itself into a knot. he never thought tango would fear the other players so badly; these are his friends. “you got it. what do you- uh, how do you want me to do it?”

“TNT?” tango asks quietly. “if you light it…”

“alright, yeah, i got some TNT,” skizz says, rummaging through his inventory and pulling out a block of it. “here, uh- you wanna just take that?”

warily, tango teaches a clawed hand out and takes the TNT. he sets it down right in front of him, flush against his folded knees.

“tango?” skizz prompts gently, pulling out his flint and steel. “i need to hear you say it, buddy.”

tango shudders. “do it,” he whispers, turning his face away. “you can kill me, you- i- i just want it to be over.”

“okay, thank you,” skizz murmurs, taking a cautious step forward. “that’s right, dude. after this, it’ll all be over. i’ll come find you at spawn, okay?”

“okay."

“i’ll see ya there. now, count to five for me?"

tango swallows. “one…”

skizz lights the TNT. the sound of sizzling fills the air as the TNT starts to flash.

"t- two..."

putting the flint and steel away, skizz turns and dives back through the hole, into the ocean. tango's voice still sounds from his communicator.

"three..."

kicking madly, skizz swims towards the surface, where scott is waiting.

"four-"

BOOM.

skizz breaks the surface, gasping for breath. he glances back down and sees a new crater at the bottom of the ocean, water and sand churning into a froth. treading water with one arm, he holds his communicator up and looks at the chat.

Tango blew up.

scott gives skizz a sidelong look. "i know how hard it is to let a teammate kill you," he says, his voice low, "but that seemed..."

"scott, buddy," skizz says tiredly, heading for the shore, "keep this between us, will ya?"

#limited life smp #traffic smp #life series smp #hels to pay au #HTP fic #also SORRY i know u asked abt the actual chase scene #but i had such a vivid mental image for his convo w skizz #btw skizz is an angel cuz i luv that headcanon #goes so well with demon impy #sheesh this got so long

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bobohu4eva · 2 months

Text

Ecstasy

Part 5 - Psycho

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun Feat. Chanyeol

Genre: Soloist AU, smut, angst, fluff

WC: 5.4k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @iluvybs @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: explicit smut, fuckin while on drugs (LSD), drug use and its consequences

A/N: In case everyone hasn't already forgotten about this series because I suck horrendously at updating! Sorry! This is also most definitely the most intense thing I have ever written! There's a reason it took me so goddamn long lol hopefully I can be a little more consistent from now on

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“When’s your next day off?”

He sent her the text a few days after their last night together, a whole day already planned for them in his mind. He just had to figure out how he’d make it happen.

She eagerly let him know, and he told her he’d be picking her up that morning, surprisingly early, but she didn’t question it, she was getting to see him, after all. And from what it sounded like, she’d get him all to herself, all day, at his lavish penthouse.

Baekhyun once again insisted on keeping his plans for them secret, so when that morning arrived and he picked her up, she had no idea what she was in store for. However the last time he’d refused to tell her his plans they ended up getting high, and she had a hunch that it might be something similar.

“Are you finally gonna tell me what we’re doing today?” She asked him once he’d started driving, this time showing up in a different car, a silver convertible Porsche.

‘Hmmm.. No, but I’ll show you once we get to my place. The last surprise was fun though, wasn't it?”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look over at her, his taunting smile daring her to disagree with him, but knowing she wouldn’t dare.

“So more drugs?”

He grimaced, “sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Am I wrong though?”

“If I tell you that would ruin the surprise.”

She just laughed and rolled her eyes, deciding to wait until she had more details to really judge.

“You’ve been working all week right? Any more run-ins with Mr Kim?”

As soon as he said it, her eyes went to his arm. Now that he was wearing a t-shirt, she could clearly make out the mark from the cigarette, the burn still not completely healed, and even then, it looked like it might scar.

“I should be the one asking you that, you know.”

She saw him glance down at his arm too. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“No, I likely won’t see him again for a while, thank god.” She frowned, still disappointed that he was so reluctant to talk about it. “What about you though? Do you work with him a lot?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” He still looked uncomfortably serious, but he perked up in less than a second as he pulled into the garage of his building. “But that’s just showbiz baby.”

He was so nonchalant about it, and left no room for her to protest, so she simply allowed him to lead her up to his beautiful apartment once again.

She hadn’t given too much thought as to what drugs Baekhyun had planned for them to take that day, pretty much assuming that it would be mushrooms again, or maybe some weed or molly. But after digging around a bit in one of his kitchen drawers, he pulled out an envelope containing a small piece of colorful paper, with perforated lines criss-crossing it, dividing it into smaller pieces still. She’s never seen it in person before, but quickly recognized it as LSD.

Just like the time before, he saw the hesitance on her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Last time everything ended up fine, and we had a great time, didn’t we?”

“I know we did, but this is different isn’t it? I really don’t want it to be too much or something and start freaking out.”

He sighed, setting the envelope back down on the counter and coming to her, leaning in for a quick kiss. “It’s just the two of us here, no interruptions, no obligations, just you, and me. I won’t let anything bad happen. If you start to feel overwhelmed, just tell me and I’ll do whatever it is you need me to to help you calm back down. That day at Chanyeol's house was the most… at peace, I’ve felt in a long time. I’ve been thinking a lot about that day, and what we talked about, that’s why I want to try this with you.”

“You haven’t done this before either?”

“No, I have, but it’s been a while, I don’t remember much of it.”

“Why don’t you remember it?”

“It's a long story, but I don’t remember much from that time of my life in general.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d said the wrong thing, she looked uncomfortable again.

“Y/n, sweetheart.” He cooed, and her eyes met his, feeling his warm hands intertwining with her own. “You don’t have to do anything, and I don’t want to pressure you, this is just something I’ve had on my mind lately. I still want to get to know you better.”

“Is it not possible to do that without getting high?”

“Of course it is, but you know what I mean.”

She thought back to the day they'd had out at Chanyeol’s house, and she understood what he was saying. “Okay maybe.”

“So what do you say, hm?” His hands ran down her shoulders, then her arms, eyes never leaving hers. The slight tilt of his head and the way he looked at her with his best puppy eyes ruined any ability she might’ve had to reason with herself.

“Alright, if you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

He grinned, and finally he was kissing her, really kissing her, not like the little peck from earlier. His tongue slipped past her lips, and his hand held her face to his own. It didn’t take long for her to start feeling weak in the knees.

As he pulled away he turned to the counter, grabbing the envelope again. He tore off two of the little squares of paper, placing one on his own tongue, and the other on hers.

“What now?”

He shrugged, “It'll start to kick in in about an hour, have you eaten? I can order us something, or see what I have here.”

They ended up making breakfast together, and she was surprised by how sweet he was being to her, even more so than usual. It didn't just feel like the usual flirtation that went on with him. Despite not being much of a cook himself, he did his best to help out, and the way he rested his chin on her shoulder, singing softly in her ear as she stood in front of the stove, made her heart flutter. When she was done he thanked her, and told her time and time again how great the meal was.

By the time they were done eating, she realized she was starting to feel the effects of the drug. Colors were becoming more vibrant, and patterns would start to move if she looked at them for long enough. It wasn't entirely dissimilar from the mushrooms, but it was definitely still different, especially the way her body felt.

Baekhyun must've noticed the way she was staring off at things, or just the unusually large size of her pupils, since he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“I'm not sure.. kind of weird.”

“Come here.”

He led her to the big cozy looking couch in his living room, facing the windows overlooking the river. He sat down, and she followed suit, resting between his spread legs, leaning her head back on his chest. Some music began to play, and even though they were just sitting there, she felt like her mind was going into overdrive.

If the mushrooms made her feel heavy, more in touch with nature, LSD was the opposite. She was buzzing, electric, almost. It wasn't unpleasant, but she didn't exactly enjoy it either.

“Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”

She wouldn't have even realized it if he hadn't brought it up, but he was right.

“I.. don't know.”

“Y/n, baby.”

She turned around, until she was basically laying on top of him on the couch, facing him.

His pupils somehow grew even larger when her eyes met his, and for a good minute, neither of them could look away. The rest of his face looked just as inviting. His skin smooth and sunkissed, pretty features in perfect harmony. And then there were his lips. Soft, pink, asking to be kissed. Eventually she gave into the temptation, and their lips collided.

That was a feeling she had not been prepared for, even in the slightest.

It was like the excitement of kissing him for the very first time, that night at the club, had come rushing back tenfold.

It was he who eventually pulled away, still looking at her with a bit of concern. “You're shaking.”

He took one of her hands that had been resting on his chest into his own, further confirming his previous words.

“Did that not feel crazy for you too?”

The way she looked at him, eyes wide, panting and shaking at the intensity of it, made his chest swell with pride. Any concern he showed quickly melted away as he grinned back at her. “Kiss me again.”

He didn't have to ask twice. She pressed her lips to his without hesitation, moaning into the feeling as waves of euphoria washed over her.

Baekhyun, too, could feel how much more intense it was, kissing her and touching her with the added excitement the drug offered. The MDMA as well as the mushrooms had given a similar effect, but not nearly to the same degree.

While the mushrooms had made him sentimental, wanting to hold her, feel the way her chest rose and fell in sync with his own, the LSD made him ravenous. Sex, while high on mushrooms, didn't even seem possible. The overall heaviness of the body high simply didn't feel sexy, but now he could think of nothing else.

But Baekhyun knew that they had all day, and was in no rush. For what could've been anything from several minutes to a few hours, the drug blurring time into irrelevance, they simply laid there, lips pressing together again and again, until he pushed his tongue past her lips, smiling into it when she once again moaned at the newfound depth of the kiss. With both hands on her waist he felt the way she continued to shake, overwhelmed by the new sensations.

Not wanting to overwhelm her too much, and still enjoying the onset of the drug, Baekhyun eventually pulled away, standing up from the couch, with her following.

He leaned in, forehead resting against hers with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Wanna dance?”

She smiled back at him and nodded, and soon the room was full of music, something sexy that would make them want to move.

With one hand in his own he twirled her around, placing himself behind her, hands on her hips as they both swayed to the beat. The heat of his chest pressed to her back and his words in her ear as he sang along further heightened how intoxicated she already was. The room around her appeared to melt and shift in a colorful whirlwind, though she didn’t mind it, still more focused on the man behind her than anything else. With the music pulsating through her, his body pressed to hers, she gave into it, even tearing up a little as she kept moving her body. This was the definition of euphoria, she thought. It simply couldn’t get any better than this, the rush of it all so overwhelming that it moved her to tears.

When she spun around in his arms, attaching her lips to his own, she saw fireworks behind her eyelids, colorful bursts filling her vision even as her eyes were closed. Every touch of his hands brought waves of delight that surged through her without even an ounce of reluctance. Baekhyun noticed her tears, but he could feel it too, not questioning even for a second if they came from anything but pure happiness.

She let out a yelp when he momentarily broke away before scooping her up in his arms, and carrying her into the bedroom.

Baekhyun, too, felt the burning need for more, seeming almost frantic in the way he laid her down, wasting not a single second before slotting himself between her legs.

He was on fire, his tongue in her mouth, dancing with her own as he tugged on her clothes with a kind of impatience she’d never seen before. He thought he would be able to stay patient, savor the feeling and enjoy her with some restraint, but he now saw how wrong he’d been. With the high at it’s full intensity, he was insatiable, he wanted every piece of her, the craving for more so intense even he began to lose it, hands shaking as he got the clothes off her body. First her shirt, then her pants, and eventually her bra, all thrown haphazardly across the room, no care for anything but the need for more skin.

She arched into him, pushing her hands past his shirt, her touch against his bare abdomen bringing a gasp from him. After one more heated kiss he sat up, pulling the fabric over his head and fussing with his belt, finally getting that off as well. When he leaned back in, he didn’t kiss her, instead, he found himself taking her face in his hand, staring.

“So beautiful… You make me feel so fucking crazy, you have no idea.”

His eyes kept scanning her face, taking her in all he could, the way his words made her lip quiver, the blush on her cheeks, it was all perfection, the high adding an aura of effervescence. To him, she was glimmering, sparkling.

“You’ve been making me crazy ever since I met you.” She answered, knowing she was just as insane for him.

His lips pressed themselves to hers, this time though, something felt different to him. He felt himself almost start to tear up, though he fought it off, not wanting her to see the way it all overwhelmed him, too. The emotions roared to a new peak, making him sentimental, kissing her deeper, in love with the way her hands on his back pressed him further into her, never wanting her warmth to leave him, not then, not ever, as far as he was concerned.

“You’re mine, baby, mine.”

The words were pressed into the side of her neck between kisses, and when her voice failed her, all she could do was nod.

“I want to hear you say it.”

She tried to get it out, she really did, but when his fingers briefly met the waistband of her underwear the words got caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

He moved slowly, hungry lips making their way down her neck, spending some time nipping at the sensitive area near her collarbone, before finally giving attention to her bare chest. His hands too squeezed and pinched at the sensitive skin where his lips couldn’t reach, and the sounds she made were music to his ears, though he still wanted to hear those words more than anything else.

“Fuck, say it, please.”

“I’m yours.”

By that point the onslaught of emotion had completely overpowered her, simply giving into the way he touched her, too far gone to even think, making it near impossible to form words. It was all like a dream, his touch combined with the high whisking her away to another plane of existence, one where she could do little more than lay back, shaking, gasping, taking in the waves of pleasure that came her way. The weight of him between her thighs and his mouth and fingers as they teased her nipples felt like heaven and hell all at once, both divine and almost frighteningly tempting. He could see it in the way she looked up at him, eyes glazed over, nothing behind them but desire, a deep yearning for more, even if she couldn’t express it, the intensity rendering her speechless.

In the back of her mind she realized the staggering difference between how he acted then compared to every other time they'd been in bed together. She felt the urgency in the way he touched her, hands that were usually so steady, so confident, now shaking, along with his unsteady breaths. Never before had he voiced such possessiveness either, though it didn't feel out of place in the slightest. She knew she belonged to him, no other man would ever be able to compare. He was so exhilarating, she felt that the piece of paper she'd had was nothing, the real drug was him.

She was already out of her mind, and his hand had yet to venture between her legs. With his mouth still on her chest, kissing and nibbling and sucking at the soft curves, he slowly began to venture south, each kiss on her stomach adding more fuel to the fire within her. When his fingers finally hooked themselves into the waistband, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing off her body, a loud moan fell from her lips. She lay there underneath him, panting, mind in a whirlwind, completely exposed, waiting for more.

Baekhyun was eager to deliver. His mouth went straight in, licking up the wetness he’d coaxed from her thus far, the feeling of his tongue incessantly flicking her clit making her hips push against his face, pleading with him for more. The taste made him groan, vibrations coursing through her, his lips and tongue bringing her close to release quicker than she knew possible. From the very first touch she’s already lost control, twitching and nearly screaming at the strength of her own desire. It was all too much, the tension leaving her helpless to his touch, fingers in his hair as she came on his tongue in mere minutes.

The orgasm washed over her like a rushing waterfall, knocking any rational thought from her mind as she shook and gasped. It was a new experience completely, the added rush of her high bending her mind into an unfamiliar torrent of pleasure. Finally prying her eyes open to look down at him between her legs, the smirk present on his wet lips was pure eroticism, his handsome face a work of art. The onslaught of her high had been so paralyzing she hadn’t even noticed the substantial volume of her moans, not until Baekhyun commented,

“My baby can’t help being loud for me, hm?”

A whine escaped her, anticipation building even further as Baekhyun stripped off the last of his clothes. He reclaimed his place between her thighs, looking down at her flushed face, basking in the warmth of the moment as they both stared, entranced. The beads of sweat on his face appeared more like precious pearls, lips a soft pink pillow, eyes of deep chocolate brown, baiting her to get lost. Even with the way the drug made everything shift and twist about, he stayed still, shining, glowing, illuminating her entire world.

He leaned in, kissing her with an unexpected tenderness, soft lips moving with hers gently, almost carefully. When he pulled back his forehead rested against her own, eyes fixed on hers.

“Do you want more?”

She nodded without any hesitation, and the smile on his handsome face was enough for more butterflies to erupt within her. By that point she was dripping, throbbing, wanting nothing more than to finally feel him inside.

“Can you say it for me?”

“Please, Baekhyun. I want - I need- more. Fuck, please.”

Her eyes were filled with greed and impatience as she watched him grab the packet from the nightstand and roll a condom onto himself, wondering how he was still able to keep it together enough to even consider such a thing. The room continued to dance and shift about in a dream like kaleidoscope as he moved himself over her again, both an anchor and a source of even greater insanity to her.

When she felt him finally push inside, it was like she was experiencing it for the very first time. Now chest to chest, fully flush, surrounded by him completely, she felt herself break. The tears were back, and with every push of his hips into her, sparks filled her distorted vision. She tried to look up at him, but her eyes felt heavy, unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of him above her, and inside her.

Baekhyun was no better off. The drug amplified everything to such a degree that he too found himself letting go of any restraint, letting the high take him wherever it so pleased. His moans, and the ever increasing cadence of his thrusts told her just how affected he was, too. She began to move with him, rolling her body into his more or less involuntarily, just wanting to feel more of him, and he did all he could to deliver.

When his eyes finally met hers again, his thumb moved to wipe away the tears, though they only communicated to him her immense and paralyzing delight. The way she looked up at him encouraged him further, his hips hitting her more deeply, savoring the feeling every time he entered her, again and again.

The drug had overpowered her senses so entirely, that the lines, the boundary between herself and him began to fade into obscurity, she was a part of him, and he, a part of her. She sensed his pleasure, and felt it in her own body, the same way she knew he felt her, too. They melted together, the high and the closeness of being so intimately connected merging them into one.

Every time he filled her, she felt him brush against that delicious spot deep inside that made her tremble. He was perfection, beyond perfection, even. Having him there with her, enjoying her as she enjoyed him, whisked them away to a different form of reality. Their shared altered consciousness made it all so much heavier, more real than any sexual experience they could have while sober. This was how it was always supposed to be, they were both sure of it.

His hand clutching her face brought her eyes back to his, whimpering at his intense gaze.

“Who do you belong to, baby?”

“You.” She replied weakly, barely able to get the word out.

“Say it again.”

“You- Baekhyun, oh my god.”

Her words stirred up a whirlwind inside him, his lips latching themselves onto the spot on her neck that made her weakest. The pace of his thrusts picked up even more, and she felt her whole body start to tingle, starting from the tips of her toes moving up her body in waves, until she was consumed by it, and again, she fell.

This orgasm was somehow even better than the last, leaving her shaking, gasping, seemingly tearing apart every atom in her body, and then putting her back together again. Her vision went white, arching, twitching, moaning and completely out of her damn mind as he kept fucking her through it, until he too reached his peak.

When it happened for him, he kissed her with such force, such passion, that she couldn’t breathe, though she didn’t feel she needed to anyway. His affection felt more crucial than oxygen, happily accepting his lips as she floated slowly back to her altered state of reality.

They both lay in the aftermath of the near religious experience they just shared, sweating, panting, still pressed to each other as they recovered from the profoundly overpowering encounter that the drug turned their passion into.

Even after several minutes had passed, she was still dizzy, still unable to come to terms with how incredible Baekhyun had just made her feel.

“I love you.” She whispered, thoughtless, the otherworldly memory of it all and his possessive words drifting through her mind. For a while, he didn’t respond, and she didn’t expect him to. It didn’t feel like some sort of big confession, just what the drug and the height of the moment naturally pulled from her lips.

“I..” he paused, becoming tense, eyes digging into her own. “What?”

The harsh change in his tone snapped her back to reality, and she realized her mistake.

“No- shit, I didn’t mean that-”

“What the fuck did you just say?” He said, sitting up, eyes squeezed shut with a pained expression now on his face.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out in the moment.” She looked at him, worry turning to panic as the look on his face slowly turned into one of anger.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” He said again, this time raising his voice, eyes still shut, refusing to look at her.

She started to sit up, tears welling in her eyes, though this time they didn’t come from a good place at all.

“But, you said you wouldn’t let anything bad happen, I’m sorry, I just- I-”

When he finally did meet her eyes, they were hard and mean, not softening at all even at the sight of her tears.

“You can’t be here anymore. Get your shit and get the fuck out.”

“Baekhyun, please, I can't just leave, I'm sorry, really. Please.” She begged, but he wasn't having any of it.

“I said get the fuck out of my apartment. Right fucking now.”

She'd never seen that look on his face before, her shock and upset morphing into fear.

With that she got up, stumbling as she gathered her clothes, leaving his room in a disoriented haze as she got herself dressed, crying harder and harder as the seconds ticked by. The bright colors had turned dark and dull and the patterns that before swirled around so beautifully turned sharp, frightening in their unpredictability. She was delirious as she passed the threshold to his apartment, the hallway seeming to close in on her as she struggled toward the elevator. Luckily nobody saw her as she left the building, eventually collapsing onto a nearby bench under the midday sun, surrounded by the bustling city.

As her eyes squeezed shut she only saw his face, twisted in anger as he told her to leave. It haunted her, though she didn’t want to face the city either, the cacophony of cars and other people entirely too much to handle. She had to get home, and with no other real option, she pulled out her phone, struggling with it for a minute before finally managing to call her best friend.

“Suhyun?”

“Hi! I thought you were gonna be with Baekhyun all day, is everything all right?”

“No…” she said, voice shaking, and even from over the phone Suhyun could tell that something was very wrong.

“Are you okay? Where are you? What happened?”

“I- I don't know, I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

“I don't know, I'm sitting in front of his building, he kicked me out.”

“He did what? You sound weird, what's going on?”

“He gave me drugs, I don't know what to do, I can barely use my phone, I can't take the subway, you have to come get me.”

Suhyun had known her friend long enough to know that something awful had happened, and needed to get there as soon as possible.

“Okay, just stay where you are, I can check your location and come to you, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

She nodded, and her friend on the phone grew even more worried.

“Y/n?”

“Yes! I'm on a bench. I won't move. Please hurry.” Her voice unsteady with the onslaught of tears still pouring out of her.

To make sure her friend was safe, Suhyun stayed on the phone with her until she pulled up, pulling her into the car before making her way towards her friend's apartment.

She was crying quietly to herself in the passenger seat, trying to focus on what was going on outside the window, but still ending up squeezing her eyes shut again and again, seeing his face glaring back at her, making her heart sting every time.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Finally she looked over at Suhyun, and she saw in her eyes that she wasn't in her normal state of mind, growing more and more worried by the minute.

She just shook her head, too overwhelmed to get a word out as the sobs ran through her.

The day had been so perfect, and because of a few little words he'd seemingly snapped, becoming a completely different person. The harshness with which he'd told her to get out kept replaying, she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. His face and his words had etched themselves into her mind, the drug making it all so much more horrible.

They eventually reached her apartment, and Suhyun tucked her into bed, holding her, asking once again, “what happened?”

“He wanted to do LSD together,” she eventually choked out “and we- we had sex, and I felt so insane after, I said I love you to him, just because of how crazy it all felt, and he lost it, and yelled at me that I had to get out.”

“He kicked you out of his apartment knowing you were on drugs?”

She nodded.

“Are you still really high? How bad is it? ”

“I could barely work my phone to call you. All I can see when I close my eyes is his face when he yelled at me to get out but when they're open everything is moving and looks like it's about to attack me. It's awful, I just want this to stop already.”

Suhyun stroked her hair as she cried, comforting her, but was growing more and more angry as well. She decided it would be best to take her phone for a while, worried Baekhyun would try to contact her and make things even worse. She took it from where her friend had discarded it on the bed, sliding it into her pocket.

She stayed like that for hours, just keeping her friend company, talking to her, doing her best to reassure her, seeing the way pain and fear consumed her. When she felt the phone start to vibrate she made an excuse to leave the room, and sure enough, it was him.

“Y/n, I'm so-”

“This is her friend. She can't talk to you right now.”

“I need to talk to her, give her her phone back.” She could hear the desperation in his voice, but she didn't care.

“No. She's fucking wrecked because of you. You threw her out onto the street while she was high out of her goddamn mind. She could've gotten arrested for Christ's sake, all because of your selfish bullshit. If you care about her even in the slightest, and genuinely want what's best for her, you're going to leave her alone. For good. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life even more.”

“Please-”

“Goodbye.”

Suhyun ended the call, cutting him off. When he called again and again, she put the phone on mute, deleting every trace of his trying to contact her. The last thing her friend needed was more of him.

At home in his apartment, Baekhyun cursed himself, nearly throwing the phone into a wall. Unbeknownst to both of the girls, he wasn’t much better off.

Those three words had set something off inside him. His high took an awful turn as he watched her leave the apartment, overcome with anger, but mostly, fear. When he called and couldn’t get through to her, it got even worse. Suhyun’s warning to stay away frustrated him beyond belief, but as much as he wanted to talk to her, he had no clue what he would even say, he couldn’t even understand his own feelings.

The guilt and confusion turned the rest of his day into a living nightmare, hoping that he’d somehow still be able to win her back. However as the hours passed, he did come to a realization.

It wasn’t her words that had caused him to suddenly become so agitated, it was the fact that he’d almost said it back.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun #baekhyun angst #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fic #exo angst #exo #kpop smut

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hi hi Ive just seen you're bouquet request is coming g go an end I'd LOVE Acica(Secret love) ambrosia (returned affections) for Commander fox (I adore him)

If you need any baseline idea maybe him just refusing to accept his feelings and after some kinda push finally is like shit like them ofc reader loves him back and has the whole time

I'd also be happy with any of the more classicly grumpy fellas eg alpha 17, but who ever is in your brain

A New Love

Summary: Fox is in love with his friend...he just refuses to admit it to anyone, including himself.

Pairing: Commander Fox x F!Reader

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Mentions of Palpatine physically abusing Fox

Prompts: Acacia - Secret love, Ambrosia - returned affections

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I don't really know anything about make-up because I'm allergic to almost all of it and so I don't wear it. So I apologize if anything is wrong. Also, I hope this is close to what you're wanting? I was struggling to come up with something good here.

“Will you hold still?” Fox rolls his eyes but stops moving as she carefully applies the makeup to his jaw and cheek, “Do you want me to cover the scars on your neck too?” She asks as she tilts his head to the side so she can see better.

“Probably should.” He replies with a sigh, “Don’t want my brothers to ask any questions that I can’t answer.”

She scowls at him, “Maybe you should let them ask questions, Fox.”

“You said you were willing to help without judgment, sen’ika.” He reminds her with a pointed look.

She sighs, “I am. Of course I am. I’m here, aren’t I?” She pulls away and eyes the covered scar critically, “Alright, open your shirt so I can to your neck and chest.”

Fox rolls his eyes again, and unfastens the clip at his neck, exposing his neck enough that she’s able to get to the scar.

She inhales sharply when she sees just how bad the scarring is, “...Fox-”

“You promised.” He reminds her flatly.

“Yes. I know. I know I did.” Her voice sounds thick with tears, and Fox feels a surge of guilt. If he had anyone else who would help him cover his injuries he would go to them, rather than bothering his one nat-born friend.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”

She shakes her head, a weak smile on her painted lips, “It’s okay. I was pushing, and I promised that I wouldn’t.”

“It’s for your own safety.” Fox mutters, his eyes closing as she goes to work.

“I know. So you keep saying.” Her hands are warm against his skin as she gently applies the make-up to cover the scarring. She’s quiet for a moment, and then she sighs, “Sorry, I have to restart. These scars are redder, I need to do some color correction.”

Fox opens his eyes and watches as she pulls a wipe from the table and starts wiping the makeup off his neck, and then she crosses the room to her vanity and digs around for some other make-up.

He really is lucky to have her.

Fox knows that he’d never be able to explain these scars to his brothers. Or, he doesn’t want to explain these scars to his brothers, rather. He pushes the swell of bitterness away with ease. He loves his brothers, he wouldn’t want any of them to be in his place.

But it would be nice if they noticed that he was suffering.

At least his sen’ika sees it.

She’s a make-up artist, who works at one of the largest and most well respected theaters on Coruscant. She invited herself into his life, and Fox has to admit that his life is all the better for it.

Partly because she keeps his secrets and is able to help him hide his scars and bruises from his brothers. But mostly because she’s a genuinely good person.

It’s not love.

It’s not.

He can’t afford to love anyone, not with the state of the galaxy. Not when his boss throws lightning around like it’s nothing.

Sure, he thinks about her all of the time. And sure, he worries about her constantly.

But he doesn’t love her. He can’t.

“Ha! Found it!” She hurries back to his side with a tube of something green, “I’ll use some of this first,” She murmurs, “And that’ll help hide the red-”

“You’re the best, you know that?” Fox asks, leaning back as she applies the color corrector to the scar.

“Well, I try.” She takes a step back and sets the tube back on the table, “How are you feeling, by the way? You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I work a lot.”

She sighs, “I’ll cover the dark circles under your eyes too. But, Fox, this isn’t feasible in the long term.”

“I know it isn’t, sen’ika.” Fox replies quietly, “I appreciate the fact that you’re willing to cover my scars as regularly as you do.”

“Yeah, well…” She grabs the concealer and then points it at him, “It’s not like the Republic bothers to pay you, so this is quite literally the least I can do. Normally you’re not this concerned though.”

“Yeah, well. I’m going to 79s with my brothers this afternoon,” Fox says with a sigh, “And I don’t want them to worry.”

“Oh?” She grins at him, “Maybe I’ll join you.”

Fox glances up at her, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah? Looking for a boyfriend among my brothers?” He asks as he ignores the pang of jealousy.

“Maybe I want to dance with you.” She counters.

Fox laughs softly, “That’s a terrible idea.”

Her smile falters, “Right. Of course. I just…I wish you would tell me why it’s such a bad idea for me to spend time with you.”

“It’s complicated.”

She sighs, “Right. You could just say that you’re not interested, Fox. I won’t be mad.”

He sighs, “The more time you spend with me, the more likely it is that you’re going to get hurt.” Fox says, “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She pulls back slightly to admire her work, “Alright. You’re done, Fox.”

“Awesome. Thanks, sen’ika.” He refastens his shirt and stands, only for her to press his helmet into his hands, “I don’t deserve you.” Fox says with a fond smile.

“Nonsense.” She shakes her head, “You deserve everything in the galaxy and then some.” She favors him with a small, adoring smile. “I’m still planning on going to 79s tonight, Fox. I’ll just…keep my distance and find someone else to dance with. Promise.”

Fox’s fingers flex against his helmet. He’s not jealous. He’s not.

“Sounds like a plan.”

She smiles at him and hugs him quickly, “Be careful, as careful as you can be, at work today. There’s only so much I can hide.”

He folds his arm around her, “It’s not up to me, but I’ll be as careful as possible. Promise.” He drops a light kiss to the top of her head, and then pulls himself out of her grip, and heads out of the apartment.

Fox genuinely didn’t think that his sen’ika was going to come to 79s. He knows her, pretty well by this point, and he knows that she’s not really into the club scene.

She doesn’t like loud music, or the scent of stale beer, or the press of strangers against her.

So when he sees her enter the club, he nearly chokes on his drink.

She looks…great. Wearing a miniskirt and a crop top, and leather boots that make her legs look amazing.

Fox isn’t surprised to see that she’s drawing attention from his brothers. She’s already stunning, after all.

His gaze lingers on her as she heads to the bar, and his grip tightens around his bottle when he sees several of his brothers crowding around her. She probably hates that, Fox can’t help but think with a small smile.

“She’s pretty,” Wolffe notes lightly, his gaze following his twins, “You should go dance with her.”

“Pass.” Fox replies, though he keeps his dark gaze on her, “Besides, she’s got enough admirers as it is.”

“Yeah. But they’re shinies and you’re Marshal Commander.” Wolffe replies with a small smirk, “You should feel honor bound to save her from their drooling.”

“I’m trying to get drunk, vod.”

“Maybe I’ll go and ask her to dance.” Wolffe muses, as he leans to the side to get a good look at her legs.

“Maybe you should leave her alone.” Fox bites out.

Wolffe pauses and leans back in his seat, his eyes locked on his twin. “Huh. You know her, don’t you?”

Fox doesn’t answer him, he just takes a sip of his drink, though a small smile crosses his face when his sen’ika meets his gaze from across the room. Though she’s quick to look away, likely remembering her promise to not bother him.

“You know her well,” Wolffe continues, his eyes narrowing accusingly, “I saw that look. You’re friends with her.”

“Wolffe-”

“No, no. Why didn’t you tell me you had a pretty natborn friend? Are you sleeping with her?”

“What? No!”

“Why not?” Wolffe demands.

“Our friendship isn’t like that.” Fox bites out.

“Bullshit. I saw that look. You want her.” Wolffe says, “I’m going to get her and bring her over here.”

“I…no-” but there’s no point, Wolffe is already up from the table and crossing to the bar.

Fox watches as Wolffe talks to his sen’ika, and he watches as she glances at Fox, and then back at Wolffe and shakes her head with a small smile. He can practically hear her telling Wolffe that she promised to keep her distance tonight.

And then one of the shinies flings his arm over her shoulder and she cringes.

Fox sets his bottle down on the table as the shiny presses himself right against his sen’ika and twines some of her hair around his fingers. He watches as the shiny rubs his cheek against hers, and he’s on his feet and crossing the bar before he really thinks about it.

She’s his, damn it.

He firmly pries the shiny off of her, “Did you ask the lady if you could touch her?” Fox asks his voice flat.

The Shiny blinks at him hazily, and then he straightens, “Marshal Commander-”

“I suggest you go and clear your head.” Fox says, his voice very unamused, and then his gaze lingers on his Sen’ika once the shiny leaves. “Are you okay?”

She smiles sheepishly, “I guess I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to come here.”

“It’s not really your scene, sen’ika.” Fox points out, gently.

“Yeah, I know.” She pushes her hand through her hair, “I guess I’ll just go home then.” She smiles up at him, “Sorry for ruining your night, Fox. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Fox replies, “I’m always happy to see you, you know that.” Her smile grows and Fox releases an internal sigh, he’s so karked. Why did he have to realize that he loved her now, of all times?

Fox glances at his twin, who has a wide grin on his face, “I’m going to walk her out. Please don’t make this a thing.”

“Oh. Too late. It’s a thing.” Wolffe puts out his comm, “I’m telling…everyone?”

Fox just sighs and lightly nudges his sen’ika towards the door.

Once they’re outside, he turns to face her while she waits for her taxi to arrive, “Sorry, again. It seems I made things difficult for you.” She says sheepishly.

“Wolffe is my twin, he’s always going to be difficult.” Fox admits, “It’s not your fault.” He hesitates and then he lightly reaches out and brushes his fingers against her cheek. “I am glad that I got to see you tonight.”

“But…you said-”

“I know what I said. I’m an idiot.” Fox interrupts, he lightly brushes his thumb against her cheek, “I want, no need, you to know that I’m not uninterested.”

She blinks at him. “What?”

“Earlier, at your apartment. You said that you wanted me to let you know if I wasn’t interested.” Fox clarifies, “And that’s not the case. At all.”

“Oh,” She breathes the word out.

“I’m just…terrified that someone will hurt you to get to me.”

“I know. I’ve known that for a while.” She admits, “But, Fox, I don’t care.”

He stares at her, “You don’t?”

“I love you enough that it doesn’t bother me.” She speaks so lightly, so nonchalantly, as if she’s not admitting something huge.

Fox sighs and lightly cups her cheek, and he smiles when she leans into his touch, “I think we need to have a long chat.” He finally says, “Tomorrow. In the morning.”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll make breakfast.” She beams at him, and then turns as her cab pulls up. She flashes a quick smile and kisses his cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning, Fox.”

“Yeah. Good night, Sen’ika.”

And then she is gone, and Fox realizes that he has to deal with his overly excitable brothers for the remainder of the night. Tonight’s going to suck.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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alieinthemorning · 2 months

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Sins of the Father [Inhibitor Lunae | Dan Heng]

Content: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen AU, Dan Heng and Bailu are Siblings (and Dan Feng is their father), Reader-Insert, POV Second Person

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

“When will brother be back?”

You looked down at the little girl who was resting at your side. She looked up at you with those large eyes that reminded you of the ocean waves touching the beach.

They were beautiful, but honestly they also made you sad. She was the golden sand, unable to leave the protection of the land. While her brother was the ocean, impenetrable. No matter how deep you went, there would always be something hidden deeper.

Brushing the hair that had fallen near her eyes, you answered her. “He’ll be back soon, Bailu.”

She huffed, sitting up. “Why is he always out so late? Doesn’t he know that that’s bad for you!”

You smiled, gently persuading her to lay back down. “You’re right. Which is why you need to rest, so that you can grow big and strong.”

“Not until he gets back.”

You held back a sigh. There was no point in arguing any further. You knew that when Bailu got like this, there was no changing her mind. Especially when it had to do with her brother. The two of them were incredibly stubborn like that.

jing, jing

You paused, glancing at the entryway, then at Bailu who had fallen asleep. You smiled. No matter how much older she attempted to act, she was still just a little, growing girl.

You gently removed yourself from her, making your way to greet the person beyond the door.

He was already in the house, back turned to shut the door as quietly as possible as he toed out of his shoes. When he did turn around, he jolted, obviously not expecting you.

“...you’re still awake.”

You frowned. He was refusing to make eye contact. “Bailu couldn’t sleep. She tried her hardest to stay up.” You crossed your arms.

He sighed. “She really needs to stop doing that.”

“And you need to stop doing what you're doing, and yet here you are. Late again.”

That got his attention, you thought as his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“You know why I have to do this.”

“I know why you say that you have to do it, but that doesn’t mean that—”

He had moved closer, into your personal space, forcing you to acknowledge the change in his demeanor.

“It does.” He sighed roughly. “...It does if it keeps you and Bailu safe.”

You glared at him. “The sins of your father are not yours to bear.”

You hated their father, Dan Feng, a no good man who left nothing to his children, but pain and suffering.

“They are when there is no one left to bear them.”

And you hated that this man forced his own son to think that he had to settle the debt of his wrongdoings. The people he were tied up with wouldn’t leave him alone until after the debt was paid in cash or otherwise.

And you refused to let it be otherwise.

“How many times have I told you that I can help. Just let me—” You tired, but he cut you off.

“I refuse to allow you to get involved any further than what you already have.” He took a step closer, which forced you to take a step back. His hand snatched your wrist, pulling closer as he leaned down toward your ear. “I am grateful for you for watching over Bailu, truly I am. But if you keep digging, where you don’t belong, I’ll have to remove you myself.” He released you, pushing you, and disappearing further into the home.

‘How much longer?’

You put Bailu to bed, before retiring to your own room.

How much longer would he inflict such suffering on himself? How much longer did he have before it torn him asunder?

The answer: Not long.

Thankfully, Bailu had a sleepover tonight and wasn’t home to see…this.

He was badly bloody and bruised, shallow breaths the only thing signaling that he wasn’t dead.

It was silent between the two of you as you worked on patching him up.

It was silent as he retreated to his room while you cleaned the aftermath.

It was silent as you watched him you.

Both of you having so much to say, but neither of you knowing how to say it.

And so you didn’t, actions spoke louder than words after all, didn’t they?

“Hello, Blade.”

BANG

“Goodnight, Yingxing.”

Click

tap, tap, Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap

The bridge of silence had grown between you. Neither knowing the other anymore. The deep relationship that the two of you had formed had been destroyed by you.

But you were fine with that, you made your bed that day, and now it was time to lie in it.

You finished off the drink you had been nursing. “I don’t regret what I did, so I hope you weren’t expecting to lecture me.”

“No…rather, I’d like to thank you.”

You peered at him through your lashes. “Oh?”

He stepped closer, not into your personal space, but at the edge of that. “Yes, I understand. Just as I want to protect you and Bailu, you wanted to protect Bailu and I.”

You smiled, presenting him your hand. “And now we can protect her together.”

He placed a kiss on the knuckle of your middle finger. “Yes…”

BANG, BANG

No one would dare touch the Little Lady of the Dragon.

Least they be devoured in its bloody maw.

Um, so me and Rogue were talking about things, and it devolved into how I view Dan Heng and Bailu as siblings. Um, I wanted to make something more hurt/comfort-y, but I instead manifested this...at like 1-2am, so yea...hope you enjoyed...this.

Also, can you tell I've been reading a lot of manwhas lmao

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

#alie ficlets #alie ficlets: honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #bailu & reader #dan heng & bailu (familial)

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me Part 4

Yeah...I’m sorry for the long wait on this one. I’m like a crow, I see a shiny, I go after said shiny. But I’m back to working on this one. Just a heads up tag limit is 50 and it’s been reached, so I haven’t replied to you about being on the list, that’s why. I’m sorry. I don’t know how people can do lists of 100 or more. I just can’t.

But because it took forever, this part is longer than usual. And you get Max AND Wayne.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was the last day before winter break and Steve still sat by himself. It wasn’t that Eddie hadn’t asked him to sit with him and his friends but Steve was resolute in keeping his distance from the Corroded Coffin boys. His reasoning was he was trying to protect them from the popular kids.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but respected his wishes. After all he had the rest of the year to wear him down.

But not today. Eddie immediately sat down when Steve did.

Steve looked around him in fear. “You can’t keep doing this, man. I don’t them to pick on you, too.” Billy had hip checked him into his locker just that morning.

Eddie grinned. “I’m immune.”

Steve’s jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “No one is immune, Eds.”

Eddie leaned forward. “Their drug dealer is, especially if they want to keep buying weed.”

Steve blinked. “Oh shit. You’re the one Tommy would buy from.”

Eddie’s grin turned feral. “And if I wanted to make their lives miserable, I could get up on this table and declare you off limits and all the bullying would come to a complete standstill.”

Steve’s mouth worked but no words came. He settled for blushing and going back to digging at his food.

“But that’s not why I’m here, Harrington,” he continued, gleefully. “I was wondering what you were doing for Christmas.”

Steve’s brain went off line and it took a bit to come back on. “Um...I don’t know. My parents didn’t come home last year, just sent me a check to buy myself presents.”

Eddie winced. “Ouch.”

“If they weren’t expecting to see piles of loot around the house, I would have blown the whole thing on booze and weed.”

Eddie scoffed. “How much did they send you?”

Steve looked down at his tray, poking at his food. He licked his lips and coughed, “$375.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “That’s a lot.”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t want fancy cars or piles of clothes I’m only going to wear once. Instruments I’ll never play. The latest movies and the biggest TV. I don’t want any of that.” He stabbed at his food again, this time with more force.

“You want them to care enough to come home,” Eddie reasoned. “When was the last time they were home?”

Steve scratched his cheek in thought. “Before Thanksgiving.”

“But not for Thanksgiving?” Eddie asked. The picture Steve was painting was starting to look pretty fucking grim.

“I think I ordered in,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, okay, dude,” Eddie growled. “If they don’t come home, you are coming over to my place.”

Steve put down his fork. “No, man. Please. I’ll be fine.”

Eddie jumped up on the table and slid across it. He planted both feet on the bench next to Steve and clasped his hands. “It’s not okay, dude. I know.”

Steve looked up at him in shock. “I didn’t‒I mean.” He looked down at his tray again. “That sucks.”

Eddie nudged him with his foot. “So you’ll come over if they don’t come home?”

Steve nodded. “I’ll give you my phone number, if you’ll give me yours.”

Eddie grinned. “And if you pretend that they came home, I will find out. I promise that.”

Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, man.”

“Munson!” the lunch lady screamed. “Get off the table!”

Eddie grinned. “And that’s my cue.” He jumped up.

“Exit stage left?” Steve asked.

Eddie laughed. “Drama’s already got it’s hooks into you, hasn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “It’s been fun.”

“I’ll put my number in your locker later,” Eddie said.

“And I’ll get you mine after school,” Steve replied.

Eddie walked back to his table with his friends waiting for him.

“So what did he say?” Jeff asked.

Gareth huffed. “Let me guess, skiing in Aspen or even the Alps.”

Eddie shook his head. “His parents haven’t been home since before Thanksgiving.”

“But they’ll just send him a plane ticket to wherever they are, right?” Brian asked.

Again Eddie shook his head. “Last year they sent him a check to buy his own presents.”

The three other boys looked at each other in shock.

“What? Jeff squeaked.

“That’s what he said,” Eddie huffed. “I don’t think he’d lie. Not about that.”

“That is so messed up,” Gareth grumbled. “He loses his friends to fucking Bill Hargrove, his girlfriend to Byers, and now his parents aren’t coming home for Christmas? What the hell did this dude do in a past life to get fucked up so hard in this one?”

“I don’t know,” Brian said softly.

They all looked over at Steve who was pushing his food around his tray morosely.

“We’ve got do something for him,” Jeff said. “Eddie you know him the best.”

Eddie munched on a pretzel. “I guess. It’s not very well.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Brian pleaded.

Eddie dropped the pretzel he was holding. “Actually, I think I might have an idea on how to get more information on him without letting him know we’re doing it.”

The other three shared glances.

“Watcha got?” Gareth asked leaning forward.

“I’ve got a Max.”

They all looked confused as Eddie grinned.

Eddie had called Steve a couple of times over the weekend, but he was biding his time until his opportunity opened up.

It came that Sunday when Max slipped in front of her trailer while Eddie was cleaning off Wayne’s truck so that he could get to work.

“Whoa!” Eddie called out and jogged over to her. “Hey, you okay?”

She looked down at jeans and cursed when she saw a rip in the knee. “No. Those were my favorite jeans.”

Eddie winced. “I know how that goes.” He pointed to a rip in the knee of his own jeans.

“Yeah, but you make them look cool,” she grumbled. “I’m Max.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, Max, I’m Eddie.” He jutted his head over to the trailer behind him. “I live just over there.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know.”

“Which part?” he asked with a wink.

“All of it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Fair enough.”

“Billy buys from you,” Max muttered.

Eddie grimaced. “Ah.”

She shrugged. “I get it, really. No judgment here.”

He stood up and held out his hand to her. She looked at it as if it would turn into a serpent, but sighed, taking it anyway. She slid a couple of times but he held her steady until she was firm on her feet.

“Want some hot chocolate?” he asked jutting his thumb behind him.

She looked at her trailer and then nodded. He opened the door and let her in. “I just need to finish the truck and I’ll be right in. And don’t worry about Uncle Wayne. He doesn’t bite.”

Uncle Wayne burst out laughing from inside the trailer. “Not hard anyway.”

Max smiled and went inside.

Eddie finished clearing off the truck of snow and went inside. He found Max at the counter with a mug in front of her. She had chosen the “Fuck Off Before I’ve Had My Coffee” mug. Eddie liked her already.

He picked the Garfield mug and went to cupboard, getting out the can of cocoa mix.

“How rich do you like it?” he asked, digging out a couple of spoons from the drawer.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I like mine super rich, like half the cup is mix rich,” he said.

Max grimaced. “Not that rich.”

Eddie laughed. “About half that, then. You can always add more if you want.”

“Sure.”

He filled their mugs and went to the fridge. He pulled out milk and added some to his mug.

“That’s weird,” she said.

“Can’t afford to buy whip cream all the time,” he explained with a shrug. “So it adds a little creaminess to it.”

She scoffed. “Still weird.”

“Don’t knock until you try it.”

Just then the kettle went off and he filled their mugs with hot water.

“What grade are you in?” he asked after taking a sip.

She leaned over the counter. “How come yours is frothy and mine isn’t?”

Eddie grinned. “Should have had that milk, kid.”

Max thumped back into her seat. “I didn’t know it could do that.”

“Next cup,” he promised.

“You’re on,” she murmured.

“Still haven’t answered the question,” he said smiling over his mug.

“What are you the cops?” Max grumbled.

“I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

She cocked her head to the side. “Yeah, I guess. Eighth.”

“You like it here?” he asked.

She scoffed. “No.”

Eddie laughed. “I hear that.”

Max frowned. “Weren’t you like, born here?”

“Oh hell, no,” Eddie said after drinking from his mug. “Moved out here when I nine or ten.”

Wayne came out of the bathroom, tucking his shirt into his pants. “You were nine. It was just before your birthday.”

Eddie grinned. “There you go. I can never remember if it was before or after.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Wayne said with a chuckle. “You came to me with a concussion.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Best day ever, though.”

Wayne just shook his head. He grabbed his coat and gave Eddie a kiss on the cheek. “Be sure to lock up if you go anywhere.”

“Waaaayyynnne,” Eddie whined. “I’m nineteen! I’ve got this figured out.”

Wayne just raised an eyebrow before waving goodbye to them both.

Eddie looked over at Max who was glaring at him. “I thought you were in Steve’s class.”

Eddie grimaced. “Yeah...about that.”

She raised both her eyebrows.

“I didn’t graduate last year when I was supposed to,” he explained. “So they’re making me do a do-over.”

“You suck,” she said and went back to her cocoa.

“How do you know Steve?” Eddie asked leaning on the counter. “Like you said, he’s in my classes. You, however are an enigma.”

She shrugged. “He saved my life from a pack of rabid junkyard dogs.”

Eddie blinked. “Come again?”

Again she shrugged. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Eddie raised his hands. “Okay then.”

She wrapped both hands around the cooling mug. “He talks about you a lot.”

Eddie frowned. “Yeah, what’s he say?” He wrapped his arms around his waist.

“That you’re too good for your own good,” she said.

“That was not what I was expecting, I was honest,” he murmured, shoving his hair into mouth.

Max reared her head back. “Why?”

“You’re new so you probably haven’t heard,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but they call me ‘The Freak’. I’ve tried to turn it into a positive, but it still stings.”

Again she shrugged. “I’ve heard Steve used to be an asshole. But I have yet to see it, so...”

Eddie set his mug down and hopped up on the counter. “He keeps trying to protect me, it’s a little disconcerting to be honest.”

Max laughed. “That’s Steve for you. It’s like an honest to god superhero.”

Eddie hunched his shoulders up around his ears. “I’m older than he is. I really don’t need his protection.”

She huffed out a breath. “You’re going to just have to deal with it.”

“I’m starting to get that,” he said. “But I’m going to wear him down and befriend the asshole if it takes until graduation.”

She shook her head. “Good luck. Usually it takes trauma for people to break to down his unusually high walls.”

“And you know all about those high walls, wouldn’t you?” Eddie said with a sly smile.

“It’s safer.” She paused for a moment. “But it would be good for Steve to have friends his own age that don’t include his ex and her new boyfriend.”

He winced. “Tell me about it. He spends time with them, but I can tell it hurts to do so.”

“I could help,” she murmured. “I could tell you what his interests and hobbies are.”

“You’re on.”

Eddie grinned. That worked better than planned.

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @the-redthread @howincrediblysapphicofyou @lovelyscot @dangdirtydemons @jaywhohasthegay @whimsicalwitchm @xjessicafaithx @cr0w-culture @kohlraedirectioner @jinxjinn @be-the-spark-bitch @chasinggeese @reportinglivefromsoda @bookbinderbitch @awkwardgravity1 @shucks-yuckyuck @stevesbipanic @phantypurple @huniibee @ashwinmeird @justforthedead89 @emly03 @evix-syne666 @renaissan-vvitch @deadlydodos @scarletzgo @messrs-weasley @kodaik97 @thedragonsaunt @butterflysandpeppermint @gregre369 @nelotegreitic @sundead @artiststarme @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @thing-a-ling @anaibis @garden-of-gay @matchingbatbites @spectrum-spectre @winterbuckwild @steve-the-hairrington @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @babyblender @cursedfoxteeth @novelnovella @throwbackthrowaway @strangersteddierthings @shrimply-a-menace

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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bwabys-scenarios · 10 months

Text

Reunited

Part 33

Illumi x Reader x Feitan(AND KURAPIKA??!!)

part 32

part 34

warnings: Kurapika cops a feel and is mad horny for reader 😭🙏

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil @ranzxki @smuttysammie22 @yandere-enthusiast @lostsomewhereinthegarden

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) woke up to a few new messages on her phone.

Killua: Hey, we’re meeting up with Kurapika today, you want to tag along? We’re having a picnic.

Gon: (Name) can you bring some snacks? Killua is too shy to ask!

Pretty Boy🫶: Meet us at the park for a picnic.

(Name) giggled. ��They’re all so cute.” She texted them all back quickly.

Strawberries: Yes, I’ll see you there!

She stood up and stretched. There was about an hour until they’d have to to meet up, meaning she had plenty of time to pack up a basket of goodies.

(Name) looked over her closet to find something suitable to wear. It was a picnic, so her choice was easy.

She pulled on a long blue sundress, pulling it over her head. She spun around in front of the mirror, smiling at her appearance. It hugged her curves just right.

She paired her look with a straw hat and a white cardigan with a yellow daisy pattern.

Once her basket was full of goodies, (Name) left her condo and began her walk to the park.

——————

She spotted Gon and Killua quickly once she entered the park.

“Hey!”

(Name) jogged over, holding her heavy basket with both hands. Killua jumped up quickly, his eyes lighting up.

“(Name), you’re-“

He cleared his throat. “You’re here. That’s nice.”

She giggled and ruffled his hair, the boy leaning into her touch with a huff. “I’m happy to see you too, Killua.

Gon jumped up and gave her a hug. “Do I smell baked goods?”

(Name) nodded, cracking her basket open to let the smell of fresh pastries fill the air. “Yep!”

She laid out a picnic blanket before setting out the treats, Gon and Killua adding the several different foods they’d brought as well.

“Go head boys, dig in.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, instantly stuffing their faces with the various foods available on the picnic blanket.

(Name) couldn’t help but laugh. It was nice to see them be so carefree and innocent after the harrowing past few days.

“Kurapika!”

Gon spat his food into Killua’s face and jumped up to run towards the blonde. It took (Name) a moment to process this information, the girl standing slowly before finally turning around.

Gon and him talked for a moment before the young boy had a pie shoved in his face by Killua. Kurapika laughed as the two chased each other around the park.

Then his eyes landed on (Name).

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She looked gorgeous in the afternoon sun, smiling at him with tears brimming on her eyes.

“Kurapika…”

He didn’t think, just walked forward with his eyes trained on her. Before either of them could process what was happening, he was pulling her close to him and pressing his lips to hers.

The two boys froze, staring at the pair.

(Name)’s eyes went wide with shock. Kurapika pulled away after a moment, looking down at her with those scarlet eyes.

“(Name), I…”

He finally processed what he had done, his face as red as his eyes. He began to back away, but (Name) pulled him back into a hug.

She didn’t speak, only holding onto him. He melted into her embrace.

When she pulled back, she didn’t look angry or upset, just… surprised. Her face had grown hot.

“Kurapika, that was… my first kiss.”

She buried her face in his chest, flustered. He raised his hand to run his hand over her hair. “My apologies for stealing your first kiss, (Name). I just… couldn’t control myself.”

He pushed her back and tilted her chin up, stealing another kiss.

Gon and Killua audibly gasped, looking to each other the running over to the pair.

Kurapika pulled away with a soft look in his eyes, licking his lips. “You taste so sweet, (Name). I think I want to kiss you aga-“

Gon and Killua tackled the man, sending him falling to the grass.

“Kurapika you pervert!” Killua yelled, bonking him on the head. Gon jumped up quickly to push (Name) away.

“You don’t kiss women randomly! What if she was saving that kiss for someone!? Aunt Mito said first kisses are important to girls!”

(Name) sighed and swatted at Gon’s hands. “Boys it��s fine, I didn’t mind at all.”

She offered Kurapika her hand, which he took without a second thought. (Name) pulled him to his feet, the man instantly reaching out and kissing her again.

This time it lasted longer, his hands slipping to her waist to pull her in closer. She felt his tongue press against her lips before she pushed him back.

“K-Kurapika… that’s enough for now…”

‘For now…’ he thought, staring down at her with half lidded eyes. Now that he thought the spiders were dead, he much better about his feelings for her. He’d find his clans eyes, and ask her to be his.

“I think I love you…”

(Name)’s jaw dropped at his words, shyly hiding behind Killua. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any feelings for him, but such a sweet confession after he’d kissed her so lovingly was making her brain short circuit.

“You’re going to make her pass out. Look, she’s flustered.” Killua said with a huff.

Kurapika couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t rejecting his advances, and just from her face he could tell she wasn’t unhappy that he kissed her.

“Alright. Let’s enjoy our picnic, shall we?”

Kurapika watched her the entire time, sighing softly when she avoided his gaze. ‘She’s so cute. I want to kiss her again… and more.’

His cheeks went red when he thought this, quickly shaking the thought from his mind. He couldn’t think of that, no, not right now.

Once they finished their picnic, Kurapika helped (Name) pack up her basket and carried it for her. It was the least he could do.

——————

The group of five met up at at a hotel, all of them beaming at each other.

“It’s been a while since we were all together last!” Gon stated, his smile wide.

“Yeah!”

Leorio ruffled (Name)’s hair, the girl playfully smacking his hand away.

The group began walking towards the elevators, Leorio and Gon talking about someone named Zepile. Leorio turned to look at Kurapika.

“Anyway… you’ve got this intensity about you… you seem more intimidating now.”

The blonde tilted his head. “Really? You don’t seem to have changed much.”

“And now you’re more annoying too!!”

“He also confessed his love for (Name) and kissed her like 50 times.” Killua said, holding onto (Name)‘s sleeve.

“HE WHAT!?”

(Name) groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Kurapika didn’t seem embarrassed at all, putting a hand on (Name)’s shoulder. “I kissed her, not 50 times, but more than once.”

Leorio and Kurapika stared at each other for a moment.

“And you keep calling ME the pervert- OW!”

Kurapika hit him over the head as they entered the elevator.

“Oh, I heard you defeated a member of the Troupe.”

(Name) stopped paying attention now, quickly pulling a pair of headphones over her ears. It was all so overstimulating. She could still feel the soft touch of Kurapika’s lips on hers.

They quickly reached their destination, (Name) not noticing until she was physically pulled out of the elevator by Kurapika.

They entered the hotel room, quickly seeing that there wouldn’t be enough seats for everyone.

“I’ll stand, it’s no big-“

She was quickly pulled into Kurapika’s lap without another word, earning the blonde some looks from their friends.

“No need for that. You can sit here.”

Unlike Feitan, he was quick to pull her close and wrap his hands around her waist without hesitation. Kurapika was making his feelings extremely clear to her.

He began to explain his nen and the reason it was so strong.

“Restraint and vow?” Gon asked.

“Yes. Nen is strongly affected by your mental state. The stronger your resolve, the more power you receive. However, you also incur a big risk at the same time. In return for Nen power, I vowed to use it against the spiders alone. I established a rule for myself.”

“What’s the rule?” Leorio asked.

“If I use my chains on one who isn’t a spider, I will forfeit my life.”

(Name) hand shot to his arm, her eyes gone wide. “You what? Kurapika…”

The blonde rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “There is a nen blade pointed at my heart. If I break the rule, that blade will pierce my heart, killing me. This is the rule that shows my resolve. Restraint and vow. My power is the product of pure hatred. It only works on the spiders.”

(Name) stared at him with tears in her eyes, not even able to speak. He gently wiped them away as he continued talking. “I’m telling you because I trust you. Don’t tell anyone else.”

Killua stood up. “Why… why would you tell us something so important?!”

Kurapika tilted his head, surprised. “I’m not sure. Wit their leader’s death, I must have relaxed.”

“It’ll be fine if we keep our mouths shut.” Leorio said, trying to calm the white haired boy down.

“It’s too dangerous. One of the surviving members can read minds. If they find out, Kurapika won’t be able to beat them!”

“But she didn’t learn anything last time.”

“That’s because we didn’t know Kurapika was the chain user.”

(Name)’s lip quivered, Kurapika rubbing soothing circles into her back.

“Then we just have to stay away from them. They’ve already checked you, so they think you’re clean.”

“But there’s also this guy called Nobunaga.”

(Name) eyes went wide. ‘Did he just say Nobunaga? Are they talking about…’

“He’s especially dangerous, he’s looking for Kurapika and still trying to chase us down.”

(Name) felt Kurapika tense under her, his hands gripping onto her hips harshly.

“Is he aware that you guys know Kurapika?”

“No…”

“Then it’s okay! As long as no one around the mind reader knows Kurapika, you’re safe.”

Kurapika glanced down at (Name) before speaking. “Well, I’ve also been in contact with Hisoka, and so has (Name).”

“What?”

“Hisoka?”

“He knows that I am the chain user. We made a pact, but his target, the leader of the spiders, is now dead. So I don’t know what he’ll do.”

The five continued to speak as rain started to pour down outside. Killua had been trying to convince Kurapika to go after the remaining members while they were still in York New.

“Excuse me.”

(Name) stood up to walk to the bathroom, Kurapika watching as she left with lovesick eyes. Once she was gone, Kurapika seemed to consider Killua’s words.

“They could be making an escape as we speak. We don’t have time for too much thought.”

“The woman you mentioned is certainly a threat… But since their leader is dead, I’ll do we Gon says, and focus on recovering my brethren’s eyes.”

“Seriously!?”

“Yes. I would also like to begin courting (Name). I think I’ve fallen in love with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Kurapika’s made up his mind. We can’t force him to change it.”

Killua sat down, defeated.

“Sorry, Killua. Thank you for the valuable information.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Kurapika didn’t really care too much about who had texted him, he was still on cloud 9 after confessing earlier.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the message.

“It’s from Hisoka…”

(Name) came sprinting into the room when she felt Kurapika’s aura go from calm to intense anger.

“The bodies were fakes…”

She attempted to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, the man glancing her way before pushing her hand off.

(Name) didn’t take offense, running towards the kitchen to grab him a glass of water to calm down.

When she came back, Kurapika was a bit calmer.

“The troupe is from Meteor City…”

(Name) paused in the doorway, dropping the cup at the mention of the city.

“(Name)!”

Kurapika stood and walked over, wincing as she began to pick up the shattered glass.

“(Name), stop.”

He smacked her hands away, pulling her now cut hands towards away and towards Leorio.

“She’s cut. Leorio can you-“

(Name) didn’t say anything, only closing her hands then opening them, the only hint that she’d been hurt was the blood staining her palms.

The two stared down at her with shocked expressions.

“How-“

She sighed. “It’s my nen. I’m a healer.”

Kurapika sat down with her in his lap again, his knee bouncing. “I… I am also from Meteor City.”

The four didn’t so much as breathe with her admission, Kurapika staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re… from Meteor City? But you grew up in Padokea, right?”

(Name) sighed. “It’s… it’s a long story that shouldn’t be shared in front of children.”

The two boys were shooed out of the room and (Name) hesitantly shared her tale. It was easier to tell them, due to how close they all were, but it still left her feeling awful.

Kurapika’s eyes were red, pulling (Name) against him so tight she could barely breathe. He shook with anger, Leorio gritting his teeth.

“(Name).”

He tilted her chin to look up at him, his eyes boring into hers intensely.

“The monsters that hurt you will be dealt with by my own hands. I will not rest until you are avenged.”

His intensity would have been terrifying to most, but (Name) felt safe in his arms. Kurapika let her cry against his chest, rubbing a trembling hand over her head.

Kurapika considered it his duty to avenge the woman he loved. She had given him so much, it was only fair he took this heavy burden off her shoulders.

The two boys walked in, Killua quickly joining (Name)’s side and hugging her. He was crying too, not bothering to hide his anguish.

“We… we heard everything.” Gon said, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry (Name). That… that was awful.”

She cried, Kurapika holding rubbing circles into her hips. Even through her pain, she dried Killua’s tears and gave him a soft smile.

“I didn’t want any of you to know. It’s… it’s scary. Disgusting. I didn’t want any of you to think differently of me…”

Kurapika held her even closer. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, (Name). Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You are still the woman I love, nothing has changed.”

He caressed her cheek, internally seething. He needed to be calm, now. (Name) needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give in to her.

She left to go calm down in one of the bedrooms, putting a pair of headphones over her ears as the group talked in the living room. Kurapika promised he wouldn’t take long, and would hold her as long as she wanted when he was done speaking with the group.

———————

Kurapika opened the door to the room, his eyes softening when he spot (Name) curled up on the bed. She hadn’t heard him come in due to her headphones.

He walked forward and placed a hand on her’s.

“(Name)? Can you hear me?”

She pulled her headphones off when he touched her. “Hmm?”

He sat down on the bed next to her. “We’re going to be moving around a bit. I have to go talk to the community to see if they have any useful information.”

She perked up, moving to sit next to him. “So you’ll be busy?”

He smiled. “Not for a bit. I’ll be leaving to ask in thirty minutes. And after that, I may be free for a while more.”

(Name) nodded. “I see. I feel like I’ve barely gotten to see you today. It’s only 1 pm, and we met at 12 pm.”

He sighed. “Yes, I apologize for that. Once the auction is over and we’ve completed whatever plan we set, I should have some time to spend with you.”

“Don’t you mean with all of us?”

He shook his head and smiled down at her. “No, (Name). I want to spend more time with you. Longer than the others.”

She thought back to his confession and her face became warm. “I… I want to spend more time with you as well.”

He lied down on the bed, pulling her down with him. “(Name), do you love me? I apologize for asking you so frankly, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but-“

She put a finger to his lips. “I do feel… something for you. As a friend, yes I do love you. Dearly. I do feel something more for you than friendship, but…”

He shook his head. “That’s all I needed to hear. Knowing you feel more for me than friendship makes me incredibly happy.”

His lips pressed against hers again, this time, (Name) allowed his tongue to explore her mouth. It was hard to think when he was slowly moving to pin her to the bed, his hands fumbling with her cardigan. He slipped it off and began pulling her sundress down.

“(Name), I want you. Desperately…”

She gasped, her hands flying out to stop his hands. “K-Kurapika! Not… not right now.”

He stopped, his breath coming out in short pants. She looked gorgeous underneath him, her face hot and her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress. He quickly regained his composure and looked away as she fixed her dress.

“Does that imply that I can have you later?”

He ran a finger down her side, stopping when he felt her shiver. Kurapika was enjoying her reactions to his touch.

“… perhaps. If you don’t get yourself killed.”

He chuckled at her words and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind, angel.”

She jumped at the pet name, looking up at him with her pretty (e/c) eyes.

“A-angel?”

He smiled. “When I had that nightmare and you comforted me at the expense of your sleep, you reminded me of an angel. Kind and pure.”

Kurapika caressed her cheek. “I want to preserve that purity, but the dark part of me also wants to taint you, dirty you with my own hands.”

He stared down at her with those scarlet eyes she had come to love. “Would you still love me after taking your wings, angel?”

Before she could answer, he placed a hand over her mouth. “Shh. Don’t answer. Save it for later, when I make you mine.”

The two sat in silence for a while, Kurapika soaking in every second of skin to skin contact with (Name). She was his light, the moon that guided him through the darkness.

“Kurapika, can I… can I kiss you?”

He blinked and looked down at her, his eyes softening. “Please do.”

She placed a hand on his cheek and stood. He was still sat down on the bed, looking at her with lovesick eyes. She stopped forward and stood between his legs.

(Name) leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, the man instantly wrapping his arms around his waist to pull her closer. Her kiss was gentle and sweet, one that Kurapika would never forget as long as he lived.

When she pulled away, her eyes were half lidded. “Can you promise me something?”

He placed a hand on her cheek. “Anything.”

“Please… please promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re one of the most important people in my life, Kurapika.”

He contemplated pulling her in for another kiss, his eyes on her lips. “I promise. I’ll come back to you alive, alright?”

She nodded and pulled him into a hug, his head resting on her soft chest. “Please do.”

———————

(Name) left the room feeling confused and aroused.

‘Kurapika and I almost…’

She bit her lip as she followed Leorio and Kurapika to the elector. (Name) did feel something for Kurapika, yes, but there were two other men that were on her mind as well.

Feitan and Illumi.

The two of them were her close friends, and she had slowly developed feelings for them both. Unlike Kurapika, neither of them had explicitly returned those feelings.

She didn’t want to choose between any of them, not for a while. For now, she would follow Kurapika and give him the care and attention he needed as he attempted to avenge his clan.

Leorio and (Name) sat as Kurapika left to talk with the committee, the dark haired man looking at her curiously.

“So… you and Kurapika, huh?”

The girl became flustered immediately. “Kurapika and I, what?”

“You’re like… together now, right?”

She shook her head, twiddling her thumbs. “Not… not yet. I still have some thinking to do.”

He sighed. “Thought so. He sprung all of that on you pretty fast, and now he can’t keep his hands off of you. It must be confusing.”

She nodded, leaning her head against the table. “Yes but… I don’t dislike it. Kurapika is very sweet.”

Leorio ruffled her hair. “You two would make a cute couple, but be aware that he’s determined to finish his goals, at whatever cost. That cost may be you one day.”

She knew this, it was one of the reasons she was hesitant to accept his feelings. She knew he was telling the truth and truly did love her, but…

“Oh, how did it go?”

(Name) looked up when she heard Leorio’s voice, turning to see Kurapika approaching.

“I couldn’t get a straight answer. The community didn’t have any updates regarding the auction today.”

He smiled when (Name) stood next to him, reaching out to hold her hand.

“You should tell the the Troupe is still alive! Then the Mafia might rethink it.”

The blonde shook his head. “No, nothing will change. The community values its relationship with Meteor City. It’s safe to assume they will not attack the Troupe further.”

“Really?”

“But that wasn’t the information I wanted. My only concern is whether the auction will proceed as scheduled…”

“You’re not planning to intercept them, are you? That’s crazy… how can you confront them without mafia support!?”

“You have it wrong, Leorio. I never had any help from the mafia.”

(Name) squeezed his hand, giving him a concerned look. He didn’t look at her, but gave her hand a reassuring squeeze back. His attention was drawn away by Gon.

“Kurapika, let us help! We’re willing to do anything.”

The blonde frowned. “The reward was rescinded.”

“I know. I want to stop the Troupe, that hasn’t changed.”

Kurapika gave Gon his full attention, dropping (Name)‘s hand. “You’d be risking your lives.”

(Name) wanted to say something, but Kurapika continued talking.

“Okay, let’s put together a plan.”

“Uh-huh!”

She huffed. “I want to help t-“

“No.” They all said in unison. (Name) blinked, suddenly upset.

“Why not? If you all get to risk your lives for each other, why can’t I?”

Kurapika sighed. “You’re different, (Name). Your nen is purely support, so it wouldn’t be very helpful in th-“

“Leorio doesn’t even have nen, so that excuse won’t work on me.”

She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, her lips pursed. Even though his eye twitched in annoyance, he couldn’t help but find her determination adorable.

“Well, can you drive?”

She stared at him. “… no.”

Gon tilted his head. “Aren’t you 22?”

She groaned. “God you sound like my mom. I can’t get a license because I’m from Meteor City, and Im scared of driving.”

Kurapika placed a hand on her shoulder. “(Name), what do you bring to the table?”

She pulled out her dagger and was about to stab it into her arm to demonstrate her nen, but Kurapika was quick to grab it. She didn’t notice his eyes flash red for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

“Other than your nen ability, angel.”

The other three glanced at each other when he called her angel, (Name) huffing.

“I was trained by Illumi in martial arts. Anyone want to spar with me to prove a point? Or do I need to ask my friend to send the pictures of me handing Hisoka his pasty clown ass?”

“You fought Hisoka? And lived? Are you stupid?”

Killua pinched her cheek harshly, the girl whining. “Hey, he only broke a-“

She stopped suddenly, all their heads swiveling to stare at her.

“He what?”

Kurapika grabbed her chin and forced her to make eye contact with him. “What details did you leave out, (Name)?”

She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t have to tel you. It’ll only stress you out.”

He smacked a hand over his forehead. “I’ll be stressed out nonetheless, angel. Just tell me and I promise I won’t be angry.”

(Name) glanced at Leorio, who just shrugged.

“He uh… broke my bones and um…”

She leaned forward to whisper into Kurapika’s ear. “He insinuated he wanted to… do things to me, and tried to take off my bra.”

Kurapika’s arms shot out to grip her shoulders so tight she winced. “He WHAT!?”

“You promised you wouldn’t be angry!”

“That’s before I knew the borderline pedophile clown threatened to assault you!”

Killua’s jaw dropped. “(Name). Why didn’t you tell us?”

She folded her arms against her chest. “I didn’t think it was that important. He didn’t do it.”

Her four friends groaned in unison.

“(Name), my angel, that is very serious. If I had known I wouldn’t have formed a pack with him.”

He rubbed a hand against his forehead. “This is another reason I don’t want you coming. I fear you may put yourself in harms way, and not even ask for help. It’s not guaranteed that one of us would be around to save you.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s unfair. You’re assuming a lot.”

He sighed. “I have to. Any possibility of you getting hurt means a resounding no from me.”

She pouted up at him, the man not budging a bit.

“… fine. But at least let me stick around until you have to enact your plan…”

Kurapika shrugged. “I don’t see any issue with that.”

(Name) sat with the other four, pouting. As a precaution, (Name) had been asked to wear her headphones as they made their plans. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust her, they just couldn’t guarantee that their enemies would come after her.

If only they knew that their enemies viewed (Name) as one of their own.

Eventually Leorio and Killua stood up and started to walk away. (Name) took her headphones off, confused. “Why did they leave?”

Kurapika didn’t answer, only sliding her headphones back over her ears.

As an act of rebellion, (Name) turned her music off.

Kurapika began to explain his nen, summoning the chains on his hand. (Name) pretended to act oblivious.

“I’m not sure what all of that means, but you should be able to use your nen blade on me, right?”

“Yes.”

Gon nodded. “Go ahead. You can choose the rule to set.”

“I accept your resolve.”

(Name) threw off her headphones as Leorio and Killua appeared behind Kurapika.

“Can you make three of those blades?” Killua asked.

“Make it four.” (Name) corrected.

“You can rescind the rule once our mission is over, right?”

“Killua, (Name), Leorio!”

Kurapika pinched the girl’s cheek as Leorio continued speaking. “We had a little talk. And since we’re working together…”

“We should share the same fate.”

“What do you say?”

Kurapika sighed. “The answer to both questions is yes. But you four are wholly mistaken. I never had any intention of using my blades on any of you.”

“Then why endanger yourself by telling us your secret?”

“Gon, I wanted… No, I wanted to thank all of you for your resolve. Even if one of you ends up revealing my secret, I will have no regrets.”

He smiled, looking down. “I have good friends.”

“That’s not fair, Kurapika. You’re actually putting more pressure on us this way.”

“That was my goal.” He said with a smile.

“Oh, I get it now!” Gon laughed.

(Name) leaned her head against Kurapika, pouting.

“Well, I’ll head out then. Can’t waste any time.”

Both (Name) and Gon waved as he walked away. “Killua, be careful!”

“Yeah, I got this.”

—————

With the little time they had, (Name) and Kurapika sat across each other at the table in his room. He snacked on some of the baked goods she’s brought to the picnic.

“They’re good, (Name). How did you bake so many in such a short amount of time?”

She bit into a cookie. “Oh, I made these last night. I bake when I’m nervous.”

He frowned, placing his fork down. “Nervous? Why?”

“…”

(Name) took another bite of her cookie before answering.

“Well… I told you about the friend I was supposed to meet her, yes?”

Kurapika nodded slowly. “… the grumpy one?”

“Yes. He had some work here so he’s in town. He’s a part of a…”

She tilted her head. “I guess you could say they’re a group of… friends? Some of them also hail from Meteor City, so when I explained a bit of my story… they wanted to know more. People from Meteor City care for each other, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

He nodded, signaling her to continue.

“The people that hurt me could still be active, so they asked me for any information I could give. To do that, they… had to learn about all the things I told you. My friend wasn’t there, so my biggest shame was revealed to a bunch of strangers. Of course, I agreed to it, but it doesn’t change the fact it was traumatizing to relive that.”

He gently squeezed her hand. “I see. That’s why you were nervous?”

She shook her head. “Not entirely. I… I had no one to talk with yesterday. It’s scary being alone with the memories of my past, so I baked to distract myself. It’s also the reason I’ve been wearing my headphones today. When it gets too quiet, I get overwhelmed.”

Kurapika looked down, guilt overcoming him. She’s been all alone with no one to hold her as the memories came flooding back. Of course she’s be a nervous wreck, he was just astonished she was okay enough to be talking to him right now.

‘She is strong. I just… I could never think about putting her in harms way.’

Kurapika kissed her hand. “(Name), after all this I would like to take you out on a date. Where would you like to go?”

She blushed. “Hmm… how about we go see a movie? Oh, or go to one of those cat cafes!”

He chuckled. “We can do both. I’m just glad you’re willing to go on a date with me, (Name).”

(Name) leaned her head on the table. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re a sweet guy, I don’t mind giving you a chance.”

He turned a light shade of pink at her words. “Really? I wouldn’t consider myself that sweet.”

She looked at him incredulously. “If you aren’t sweet then why do you treat me like I’m made of glass? You’re so gentle when you touch me. It’s different from my friend.”

Kurapika seemed both pleased and dismayed at her words. “He… touches you?”

His jealousy was poignant.

“A lot, really. Always rubbing my thigh, sleeping with me, holding my hand, grabbed my boobs in a dressing room…”

She sighed. “And I’m pretty sure he saw me naked when he sat in the bathroom while I showered.”

Kurapika’s eye twitched in annoyance. “Really? How… strange.”

(Name) crosses her legs. “Kurapika, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He pouted. “There’s nothing for me to be jealous of.”

She tilted her head before squishing her boobs together. “Oh really? Then you don’t wanna touch these?”

He stared down at her cleavage with his cheeks a bright shade of pink. “I didn’t say that…”

She giggled. “Mhm, that’s what I-“

He stood up and walked forward. “May I?”

“May you… what?”

He smiled down at he with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “May I touch you?”

She blinked, looking from him to his hands that hovered around her. Hesitantly, she gave him a quick nod, squishing her legs together.

He first started by placing his hands on her shoulders, trailing them halfway down her arms until they stopped right next to her breasts.

He glanced back at her before slowly cupping her chest. “Is this alright?”

His eyes were staring down at her, half lidded.

“Oh… um… yes.”

He gave her breasts a quick squeeze, seemingly mesmerized by the softness of them. Her little whimper didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde, a smirk pulling at his lips.

He thought about slipping his hands under her dress, but stopped himself. “Soft…”

Kurapika pulled his hands back. “You have my permission to touch me too, (Name). Anywhere you’d like.”

He kneeled in front of her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. “You may not be mine yet, but I am yours. Completely.”

It was hard to resist him when he was looking at her with those pretty scarlet eyes, a testament to his intense feelings for her. She reached out to cup his cheek, the man instantly leaning into her touch.

“You’re really sweet, Kurapika. Thank you for loving me, I…”

He leaned forward, capturing her lips in another kiss. This one was quick, the blonde pulling away.

“Shh, you don’t have to say you love me yet. I would wait a lifetime for you.”

(Name) had never been treated so gently, so lovingly before. It wasn’t something she would take for granted.

She gave him a nod, ruffling his hair.

——————

They stayed together for a bit longer, Kurapika’s eyes never leaving her form. When it was time for him to enact his plan, he escorted (Name) to the hotel lobby and called her a cab.

“I’ll see you soon, (Name). Once this is over.”

He thought about kissing her again, but he didn’t. Kurapika wouldn’t push too hard, even though his heart yearned for her touch.

“You’ll be careful, right?”

He held open the cab’s door for. “I will.”

Kurapika closed the cab door and watched as it drove off, his heart hammering against his chest. She hadn’t rejected him outright, and had even kissed him herself.

He wasn’t sure if he should deserve to feel this happy, but let himself feel those butterflies for her.

‘I love her. So much.’

(Name) opened up her backpack and noticed a notification pop up on her phone. She’d silenced it when she’d left to visit Kurapika and the rest so she could really enjoy her time with them.

It was all from Feitan. (Name) scrolled up to the first message he’d sent.

Grumpy Pants: leaving town today. meet up before I do?

Grumpy Pants: (Name)?

Grumpy Pants: why did you leave condo?

Grumpy Pants: plans changed. text back soon as you can.

(Name) winced. She hoped she hadn’t worried him. He’d asked her to stay put in her apartment after all.

Strawberries: Hey Fei! Sorry, I was out with friends today! I’m glad you aren’t leaving today, that’s waaayyy too soon ><

(Name) jumped when her phone began ringing. She accepted the call quickly.

“Hello-“

“Where are you?”

(Name) froze. It was Feitan, but he sounded very… intense.

“I’m in a cab on my way to my apartment.”

“Good. Stay there. Dangerous, someone out for us.”

“Us?”

“Yes. You’re connected to me, means they could be after you too.”

(Name) sighed. “I see. I’ll be home soon. I-“

Her phone began to buzz, another call incoming.

“Sorry Fei, gotta take this.”

“(Name), d-“

She clicked on the other call.

“Illumi, hey.”

The man on the other end smiled. “I finally have time for you, (Name). I’ll be coming to pick you up for dinner in an hour.”

‘But Feitan said I needed to stay at my apartment…’

(Name) but her lip. ‘But… I miss Illumi so much…’

“Okay. See you then!”

(Name) hung up and placed her phone back in her bag. She sighed into her hands and looked down at her trembling legs.

Kurapika had worked her up a great deal when he’d groped her chest. She’d have to please herself in the shower before her meeting with Illumi if she wanted to be able to focus on anything.

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