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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list.

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in.

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.”

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears.

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

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btsmosphere · 17 days

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 1: the Light Dies

masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.6k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, it’s sorta like a mafia au but they have superpowers lmao 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, minor character death, attempted murder, injury, loss of consciousness

a/n: I have to say thank you to @casuallyimagining and @bluewhale52 for betaing this chapter, although this might come as a surprise to them since that was maybe 3 years ago now?😅I'm really not sure how much my writing had changed since then, but you guys can be the judge of that as the future chapters unfold! In the meantime, enjoy! If you want more supercharged in your life, you can also search my supercharged tag to find some musings, rambling, gifsets and visuals etc that inspired me and kept me going while I lost my mind over this story!

Lastly, I present the supercharged playlist✨ I had a lot of fun making this – several songs align with plot events, while some of them are there for the title, the vibe, or even a single line! Feel free to guess which are which or come and chat with me about it👀

An ear-splitting roar was barely contained behind shuddering steel doors. Just down the corridor, your fingers still clicked away, unperturbed, at your keyboard.

Tapping your foot, you looked impatiently up at the clock as another thunderous bellow assaulted the air. If the full-length windows weren’t reinforced by your boss, Kuyang’s own design, they would be rattling in their frames.

Blowing to rid your face of a strand of hair, you returned to your work, not even sparing a glance towards the source of the racket. It was only around half an hour until you could leave work for the weekend.

Finishing your task, you turned to filing the correspondence on your desk as a few yells carried through the air, mingled with the monster’s uproar. Bills and business deals the lot of them, you tucked them away in their respective places to be dealt with next week – only to stop on the very last one. How many times had the postman ignored the very clear sign for no newspapers?

You supposed the city felt the need to remind everyone that there was some semblance of central control – not really of much concern in a workplace such as yours, mind. Glancing across the front page, you realised why. You didn’t have a tv at home, but you would have to live under a rock not to recognise your city’s most celebrated superhero. Bolt, the media’s beloved, had claimed another victory against some crazy start-up trying to build their own bombs downtown.

The hero’s blue-masked face grinned confidently up at you from the desk, while police led what looked to be two scruffy teenagers into the back of their van. But Bolt’s vivid presence eclipsed them in his suit that matched his bright eyes.

Not bothering to read further, you pushed the paper into the waste bin at the end of the table.

Just as you were tucking away the final bits of paper, your boss emerged, wiping his brow on a cloth that looked as dirty as his face. Smiling pleasantly despite his ruffled state, you rotated on your chair to face him.

“Frank’s all good and sleepy now,” he said, “if you could get him sent up to the chamber.”

“Sure,” you nodded, already getting up and straightening your jacket.

With nothing more than a weary nod of appreciation, he left for his private laboratory. This was through a series more armoured doors, to which only you and a small number of lab workers knew the codes.

He was a scientist. And you were sure he was unhinged, but the job paid well, so that was all you concerned yourself with.

In fact, you had got very lucky. You had been surprised when such a good position had become available and quickly given to someone as ill-qualified as you, with no references to give. But your lack of connections seemed of no concern, and here you were, finally making ends meet and no longer in fear of being turned out of your run-down apartment at the edge of town.

So you did your job as well as you could, worrying yourself over nothing except pleasing the odd man that was Kuyang.

Even so, it was still a little daunting each time you had to come face-to-face with one of his experiments.

Reaching the steel doors that had not long ago been seriously threatening their hinges, you took a breath. Holding your thumb over a scanner by the door, you plastered a confident smile on your face as you walked inside.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Frank’, a great lump of teeth and dark furry flesh several times bigger than you was sleeping in a pod at the centre of the room. Surrounding this were multitudes of screens showing graphs and readings you couldn’t hope to understand.

At the edges of the room, a smattering of other workers were slumped against the stainless steel lab walls, almost as rumpled as their boss had been.

A hulking guard, Taeyeon, stood near the entrance, and you quietly confirmed with her that Frank was under and secure. Nodding, you gestured to Taeyeon’s team, another man and woman with the same uniform and intimidating stature.

Together, you assembled in front of the tank that held Frank, Taeyeon typing authorisation into one of the computers. The others locked down the external doors, just in case.

Though it was a familiar sight by now, the opening of the pod always prompted you to run through your training. If you hadn’t read it in the documents you dealt with, you would not have known Frank was also known as Necrus X, a new prototype Kuyang was working on, although you could not imagine what for.

Kuyang had been sure to tell you how to knock out the creature if it ever came to it, though. There was a spot behind his ear, which was more of a ridge at the side of his enormous head.

With the pod open, a panel rose from the floor, taking Frank rotating upwards. You caught sight of the patch behind its ear, zeroing in on it. Just in case.

The smooth expanse of ceiling split then, a hole revealing itself as the roof shrunk away into the walls, leaving a clear path for Frank to rise to the next floor, where he was stored.

As effortlessly as the ceiling retreating, a smooth steel staircase emerged from the walls. You and Taeyeon climbed it, spiralling around the edges of the circular space until you drew level with Frank, now snoring on the upper floor. Here, the space was wide open like an empty art gallery, half the walls comprised of expansive windows, no lab equipment to be seen.

The floor closed up beneath you both and you walked around Frank, opening a secret panel in the wall. As before, you raised your thumb to a blank scanner – but got no further.

A deafening smash sent you crouching to the ground in panic. Livid blue painted all the walls in the space as shattered glass skidded across the floor.

You had thought that glass to be unbreakable. At least that was the intention. But when you turned, you were forced to believe your ears: the central panel of glass was completely blown in, all the others down the row cracked from the force.

At the same moment the glass had shattered, you could suddenly hear what before had been hidden behind soundproofing. Outside, there were shouts, screams, car horns and alarms blaring from every angle – and above all, sirens. Sirens wailing through the air like disembodied banshees, descending, apparently, on your building.

Shuffling along the floor, you peered past the sleeping mass that was Frank in front of you. Walking across the room was a man in a tight blue suit, the same hue crackling in the air around his hands.

Bolt.

Mind short-circuiting, you were frozen. What should you do?

What was Bolt doing here? Was there some kind of threat? The image of him should have brought you relief, even though you knew nothing of what the danger was, but you hesitated.

Only having the presence of mind to shrink back silently behind Frank, you looked between the beast and the control panel you had abandoned. But you had no more chance to move before a fearsome crack ripped through the air, another flash of blue, sending the hairs on your arms bolting upright.

Spinning back to face Frank, you were met with a thump. A body, falling onto the floor.

Though she was mostly obscured by Frank’s sleeping form, you stared in unbelieving horror at Taeyeon where she lay, unmoving. Breath accelerating in your throat, you moved at last, scooting yourself back and away. Closer to the wall.

First you lunged to sound the alarm, mounted inside the wall panel, which instantly lit the room up in throbbing red, blaring loud enough to drown out the sirens outside. Then your hand was fumbling across the scanner. You had to get Frank locked away.

The walls of the pod which safely contained Frank overnight began to descend, much too slowly for your liking. Whirling to face the room, your heart seized in your chest when the imposing figure of Bolt, now shaded purple by the red light, met your eyes.

A glance up at the descending walls. They were halfway to the ground by now, but you still had to enter the code to lock them down.

Bolt yelled for you to stop, barely audible over the dizzying noise of the warning siren.

As he strode towards you, you could only watch, pressing yourself desperately against the wall as if it could swallow you up.

Bright light cut through the imposing red as the heavy door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open. Bolt stopped, both of you turning to see Kuyang enter. His hair was still sticking up from earlier, a strange expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before.

Paying no mind to the maniacal smile that had no place on Kuyang’s face, you took the moment of distraction to scramble for the code lock.

Without a sound, the gap between the floor and Frank’s pod closed, and your fingers were already leaping to action, typing the numbers behind your back at lightning speed.

Kuyang was running now, a direct path towards Bolt. But Bolt turned back towards you.

You were nearly done, but his hand was raising towards you…

In a split second, your fingertip met the final key of the code. Almost instantly, it was ripped away as shocking blue light cut through the air. You felt the impact before you could even notice that it was aimed at you.

Hitting you square in the chest, white hot pain scorched through your every nerve as your body was flung backwards, powerless as a ragdoll sailing through the air. The collision with the cracked window behind was almost lost on you. More intense pain was writhing its way down each limb, making you cry out, uncaring about the rain-spattered wind that whipped about your face now.

But you could see shards of glass as they fell along with you, like daggers aimed at the ground.

Biting wind rushed in your ears, the sound crashing over you like waves. And just as a pan sizzles down off the heat, the ferocious attack of pain seemed to reduce just as fast as it had invaded you.

Your heartbeat was the loudest thing, booming over the insistent web of sirens and whistling air.

Breathing choppily, you screwed your eyes nearly closed, suddenly aware of the tempest around you as you fell. Above, the already darkening winter night was illuminated with flashes of that awful blue.

You were falling.

It hit you then, as if you hadn’t been falling all this time. But it was only now that your senses caught up with themselves. You worked on a very high floor of the skyscraper, but as you were tossed around in the air, you saw the ground rapidly approaching.

A horror gripped your chest like nothing you had ever felt before.

Below you, and rushing towards you at terrifying speed, a skip sat surrounded by heaps of trash on the street. Unable to think, you could only shield your face with your hands, stretched out in front of you as if to stop the inevitable collision.

Though your eyes fell closed, you felt the jerk that flung your whole body backwards.

That wasn’t what you had expected.

Eyes snapping open in confusion, you found your vision lit with blue. In front of your face, blue light was shooting from your palms, pushing you up and away from the ground.

Your mouth fell open. Gaping in shock, you did nothing as the light died and you slowed again in the air.

Though you began falling much slower this time, you barely had time to notice your surroundings – much nearer the ground – before you were plummeting again, and this time nothing could stop you.

Your eyes weren’t even open when you felt your body slide off something. Not a second later, you were crumpling onto hard concrete which grazed your cheek.

You groaned.

It was dark. High above, any flashes of light didn’t reach you here, having landed in a thin alley beside the building. And though this shielded you from the commotion on the main streets out front, sirens still pierced the air, each one feeling like a stab to your head.

You clutched it as you maneuvered to sit. It took you a few tries, groping for a wall or something to lean against as you regained your balance.

Eyes cracking open, you waited patiently for the dark splotches to dispel before looking around.

Right next to you was a car which blocked you from view of the road beyond this alley. Evident from the dent that caved in its bonnet, that was what you had landed on.

Turning your head, you had to squint even more as light assaulted your sensitive eyes.

Among a blazing light, you could make out the vague shapes of rubbish bags and an overflowing skip that you recognised. Out of these, a vibrant fire was now burning. The correlation was too strong for you to ignore.

Breath shallow, you turned your horrified gaze to your hands.

They had done this… but how? They looked totally normal now.

Frowning, you brought them up closer to your face, so that your nose was practically buried in your palms.

No difference.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined that blue light which saved you earlier. Was there a way to make it come back?

While you were puzzling, you lowered your hands again, still staring intently as you rotated them in your lap.

Then, quick as a blink, a blue flash darted from them again. So fast, in fact, that you had no time to react before one of the bolts was fired directly into your opposite arm.

Snatching it away reflexively, you hissed in pain as a burning sensation crawled, tingling, over your skin there.

Despite the pain, the blue light didn't cease shooting from your hands. They tingled, a strangely uncomfortable sensation. It was as if something warm was wriggling its way up your veins and spilling from your fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” you whispered in panic.

You turned them outwards, aiming away from you, but if they kept at it for much longer you were sure to draw attention.

Moving your hands around jerkily, the beams of light shook along with you, but did not go out. With each unsuccessful movement, panic made you more frantic until the glowing rays jerked erratically around the small space.

Straying too far, the light came into contact with a post at the alley’s entrance. You could only watch, helpless, as light like blue snakes skittered up it and latched around the wires it supported.

To your relief, the strange current seemed to have found an outlet, and only remained a second longer before cutting out. You were left blinking in the relative darkness. Panting heavily, you stared down at your hands, although you did not bring them too close anymore.

Once again, they appeared utterly innocent. There was nothing to suggest they had just channelled lightning through them.

Suddenly, the world plunged into darkness. The fire still burned at the other end of the alley, or you would have been left totally blind. In the building behind you, in the street, all the lights had gone out.

Almost instantly following the blackout, screaming rose again in the air.

Gulping, your eyes travelled to the blackened post at the corner, which you had accidentally electrocuted.

This was bad. Your head was spinning, both from your short, hard fall and from the whirlwind of events that had happened in what could only have been minutes. Surrounded by darkness, with the wail of the city and a fire for company, you could only see one course of action.

Run.

You had to get away from here. It wasn’t safe. You had little idea where was safe, but you couldn’t be here anymore.

It wasn’t like you had anyone to call who would care enough to come and pick you up. Nor did you have the money to try a hospital, though you felt as if you may need it.

But especially with electricity shooting from your hands at the drop of a hat, it probably wasn’t best to be anywhere around people.

The dizziness from your unfortunate landing on the car had worn off while you were sitting, but the world swayed anew the moment you made to stand. Pushing determinedly against the wall, you struggled on anyway, brand new dark spots in your vision offset by the brightness of the fire you walked towards.

This end of the alleyway led out through smaller streets, away from the city centre and furore of sirens.

On reaching the opening, you cautiously assessed the road stretching away either side. Empty. And if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t see you in this darkness.

Shoving your hands beneath your armpits on some misguided hope of keeping them from causing problems, you lowered your head and ran. It was more of a jog, considering everything, but you still moved as quickly as you could beneath the dead streetlamps.

Head throbbing more with movement, you stumbled a few times as you went. The pavement tilted around you.

You had made it a few roads before you felt that awful tingling in your arms again. It itched, like something fighting its way out of your skin.

Nausea rolled in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real.

Slowing down and stopping beneath a signpost, you drew your shaking hands out in front of you. The world careened on its axis, revolving around the sight of your palms as a faint blue glow grew in them.

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it.

You wanted it to stop.

A few flickers of blue darted down the veins in your wrist. Towards your fingertips. Sparks leapt from them, small tendrils of lightning crackling between your fingers like webbing.

At last, you gave in to the rising horror mixed with a sick feeling. The floor’s spinning became too much, your hands turning to a bright blur in the centre of your vision.

You passed out on the spot.

Lights were turning on again around the city. Television sets flickering back to life to announce Bolt’s victory against the beast that had attacked earlier that evening.

But not on the street where you still lay.

The return of light only reached neighbouring roads, dim glow snuffed out before it could penetrate the middle of this street. A white-haired young man stepped forwards, but his face was totally obscured in darkness.

“Here,” he spoke to the silence.

The next moment, a deep red glowed in the middle of the road, though it brought little light. The red bounced off a signpost before it was gone, replaced by another man, seemingly from nowhere.

The newest arrival stood there, looking down at your figure, unconscious by the sign. Then he disappeared again, leaving total darkness behind as if he had never been there at all.

A few more moments passed, you and the hidden man the only beings on the dark road.

Not very long after, a car’s engine rumbled and sputtered into earshot. The bright beam of headlights rounded the corner, growing larger and shedding light on your form as it drew closer.

Pulling up next to you, the engine died along with the lights. Two doors opened and slammed shut.

As two pairs of feet stepped nearer to join the one remaining beside you, the streetlamp directly overhead began to glow. The faint glimmer grew until it illuminated the scene. Still no other lights joined it, leaving the small group of you lit up as if by spotlight.

“It’s her?”

The man crouching beside you asked the question without looking up, and the shadowed man answered.

“Pretty sure.”

“She’s breathing?”

“Yes.”

The crouching man hummed. Moving to kneel instead, his eyes roved over your somewhat battered face, dark hair obscuring his own.

“Namjoon?” he asked then, turning to the other man from the car. It was the same man who had momentarily appeared in the street earlier.

Taking his cue, the tall man, Namjoon, walked forwards and bent to lift your hands by the wrists. In just moments he was placing them carefully back, nodding.

“No doubt.”

“Okay then.”

“Can she travel, Jin?”

“Give me a moment.”

Producing a small object, he pressed a button and a small light sprung from the end. Carefully lifting one of your eyelids, he shone the light into it, observing like a doctor.

The first you became aware of was the far away sound of voices being quietly exchanged. But with the cloudiness in your head, identifying them didn’t seem very urgent. You were preoccupied with the swirling feeling that made the world swim around you, even though it was dark.

But as dim awareness was returning to you, the process of regaining your senses was violently accelerated as a blinding light was thrust into your vision.

You flinched, and as Jin pulled away he saw you blink, eyelids screwing shut in protest. His eyebrows raised in slight concern as he watched your first groggy movements.

Blinking around at the dimly lit figures over you, your eyes widened. The nearest man held the illuminated light stick. Was he a doctor?

Next, your eyes darted to the tall man standing behind him. You recognised neither.

Some strange feeling told you someone else was standing there too, but when you looked to your other side you were faced with nothing but empty shadow.

“Can you sit?”

The first man’s question was gentle, his hands ready to support you.

Nodding timidly, you heaved yourself up with his help. It embarrassed you to be panting after just that much movement.

“What happened?” came the next question.

As you replayed the events, you avoided their eyes. You could not let them know what happened, what you had become. They were helping you, and yet you might hurt them-

Fists clenching subconsciously, you stuttered in panic.

“I-I can’t pay,” you told them, but before you could say more a new voice was speaking. The standing man stepped forwards, his voice calm and surprisingly friendly.

“There’s no need to pay. We can help you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I don’t, uh, I-I-“

His eyes travelled towards your hands, which you were trying to tuck behind you.

“You gained powers, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I have them too,” he smiled, “I know what it’s like to be scared. But you can work with this and learn to control them. I’m Namjoon, and this is Jin. We’ve been through this before, we can help you.”

At your sides, your hands relaxed. Tension lifted from your tightly hunched shoulders. Wordless, you looked between the men who were watching you, ready to move, but only on your word.

Swallowing, a light frown creased your brow.

“What do you want-”

Namjoon’s smile dimmed into something kinder.

“At least let us check you over.”

Your hands fretted together. It was strange, you couldn’t feel anything there. Surely they should feel different? How would you know if these… powers, Namjoon had said, were to come back?

“You won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” he seemed to anticipate your thoughts as he watched you, “we can protect ourselves.”

“You were unconscious,” Jin spoke, drawing your perplexed gaze back to him, “did you hit your head?”

You blinked, but found yourself answering.

“I think so.”

Nodding, Jin shuffled at your side. He leaned a bit closer.

“I need to shine this light in your eyes again. You may have a concussion.”

Complying, you sat through the eye-watering brightness. He asked you things, like a doctor would, except he was working in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night.

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“I did. I think still, a little.”

“Any nausea?”

“Yeah… but maybe because of the…” you gestured to your hands.

Jin sat back, taking the light with him. Namjoon shot you a sympathetic smile at that. You supposed he had been through the same thing, from the sounds of it.

Jin looked up at Namjoon.

“It looks pretty rough. Definitely a concussion, and she needs patching up, but in the long run she’ll be fine.”

“I-I’m serious,” you interjected, “I don’t have the money for hospital…”

Your voice faltered. You half thought of asking to just go home, but you were hardly sure of even making it there by yourself. And if you got there, then what? The prospect of burning down the place with these errant powers didn’t fill you with comfort.

“Good thing we’re not going to bring you there, then,” Namjoon said, “but I meant it when I said we could help. We can take you home, if you want… but you can stay with us, too.”

You stared at him wordlessly. Was it crazy that you were considering this?

“Just for a bit, if you need,” Jin added softly, “it’s just… now might not be the smartest time to be alone.”

You chewed your cheek. But your head was pounding too much to think very hard, and this seemed like the most straightforward option. The people in this city kept surprising you, after your first stroke of luck with Kuyang's generosity.

“Sure…” you spoke quietly, not quite able to look them in the eyes, “yes please.”

“Okay,” Namjoon took it in stride, “but let’s get moving.”

“Just one moment – we should wrap that.”

Gesturing towards your arm, Jin stood and went back to the car. On his return, he knelt again and began to secure cling film around the angry red blotch blistering your skin, where you had caught yourself with your own beam.

“We’ll sort it out properly when we get back,” he told you, “but Namjoon’s right, we should be going.”

You followed his gaze which seemed to dart up and down the street. However, nothing was there.

Jin helped you stand, still looking around. Sure enough, the dizziness from before hadn’t quite left you yet. Biting down on your lip, you focussed hard on getting the short distance to the car. You were led to the passenger seat and crumpled gratefully into it.

But just as Jin closed the door, you felt an uncomfortable prickling clutch your forearms again. Namjoon slid into the back seat in time to hear your gasp, noticing the way your fingers flexed in panic. Digging in his pockets, he produced a pair of thin black gloves and held them out to you just as the first trickles of blue appeared in your veins again. He watched with a studious frown as you pushed your hands into the gloves.

“Those will help,” he said, still looking at your wrists, “they can contain the powers. But you shouldn’t keep them on for too long.”

Jin was seating himself in the driver’s side as you frowned over at Namjoon. At first you had been relieved to have a solution to your erratic lightning problem, but that was ripped away at his last addition.

“Why not? It will keep you safe,” you questioned, but kept your voice quiet.

“Don’t worry, we’re more than capable of handling anything you could throw at us,” he laughed, “but you can keep them on in here. Best not to bottle up your powers forever, though.”

Resigned, you turned back to face front. The moment Jin stepped on the gas, all the lights in the road sparked to life at once. Startled, you blinked, looking around. On the pavement you were just pulling away from, a man was walking away, unidentifiable behind a hoodie.

Slumping back in your seat, you breathed a short, dry laugh. This mysterious happening was just the latest in this crazy night. You had no choice but to accept it.

The car ride was fairly short, but you were too tired and distracted to take in exactly where you were going. Streets seemed to blur together, aware only that you were heading out of town.

The itching in your arms had persisted for a while, but as promised, the gloves seemed to work. No fiery blue burst out of your palms, and, eventually, whatever it was decided to give it up, subsiding again by the time the car pulled up.

But no one got out yet. Jin had stopped at the end of a small road, big enough for only one vehicle, directly facing an expanse of crumbling and graffitied brick.

Curiosity woke you up from your daze, and you watched as Jin reached to tap something on his dashboard. Almost instantly, a groaning reached your ears from over the whirring of the engine. The wall ahead shook before shifting, sliding sideways until it tucked itself behind a dented dustbin, unveiling a space beyond.

Leaving you little more time to wonder, Jin started the car again and you rolled downwards through a plain, dark entrance. It reminded you of those multi-storey car parks formed with ugly blocks of concrete. It was considerably smaller than those, however, Jin pullingup into a space alongside about a dozen other vehicles, beyond which the place seemed entirely deserted.

Jin came around to open your door, but you were able to stand by yourself. It was still a bit of a struggle, your limbs sluggish and the world dull around you – although that may have just been the low underground light.

Namjoon led you, Jin staying close by your side. Blinking at the space as you moved through it, your eyes traced over the various car roofs, some cleaner than others. A larger four-by-four was particularly beaten up, with a large crease in one of the metal wheel arches.

Your eyes rested longest on what was probably the most pristine: a motorbike, at first hidden by the cars either side of it.

Soon enough, you were past them. Stopping as Namjoon did, you watched him expectantly. However, he did not turn around, instead standing face-to-face with a plain concrete wall. Except… now a low rumble announced the movement of a panel which slid away, revealing a wide doorway which had previously blended seamlessly with the flat wall.

Your eyebrows raised at the touch that was reminiscent of Kuyang’s lab. Without time for you to dwell on this, your small group moved up a dingy staircase that lay beyond the doorway.

At the top, you emerged into a new space, notably lighter than before. You assumed you were back on ground level, perhaps above. It was hard to be sure, disoriented as you still were in the whirlwind that had overtaken your day.

Bizarrely, the space appeared to be someone’s home. There was a large and coffee-stained table surrounded by mismatching chairs, a kitchen behind it littered with mugs and pot plants. Still, beyond the lived-in array of things lying around, it was big. You imagined it must be miles more expensive than the shoddy apartment you stayed in.

It was open plan, and you followed Namjoon past the dining table towards an area filled with two enormous sofas.

The back of a blond head was visible over the sofa, and now the person turned towards you.

“Guys!” a loud exclamation rang out as he leapt up. A dazzling smile spread across his mouth.

When his eyes fell on you, wincing at his sudden volume, the smile dimmed a little.

“Not so loud, Hope-ah,” Jin spoke gently from behind you.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head, smile remaining on his lips.

Jin’s hands came lightly to your back, steering you over to a sofa. As you sunk into it with relief, the blond man sat across from you, tilting his head to catch your eye.

“I’m Hope,” he smiled, “I’m glad we found you. You’ll be right in no time!”

Frowning, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over the damage on your face. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip absently.

What did he mean? I’m glad we found you…

Had they been looking for you? You still weren’t sure if it was a lucky coincidence they found you, but perhaps it was something more.

The lingering ache in your head forced you to push the issue away. You missed Namjoon’s stern look at Hoseok as he hovered behind your seat.

Jin pulled a pack from a cupboard and set it beside you. You let him lift your arm and unwrap the burn, your unfocussed eyes dragging across the room while he applied something cold over it. Next came stinging, scattered over your face as he wiped at the small cuts and grazes with an apologetic grimace you barely saw.

You only forced the world back into focus when someone else entered your sight. Emerging from behind you, a gentle, friendly smile was directed your way from a man with pale pink hair. Swallowing, you never managed to smile back before he was turning away.

The pink-haired man reached a hand out to someone you couldn’t see. Another man appeared, walking towards him, but he never looked at you. Or if he did, it was obscured behind the black hair that fell to his eyes.

The two new people left towards the kitchen, though not without another smile from the pink one.

Who were all these people?

Frowning after them, you were interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Jin.

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to rest.”

Looking around, you had half a mind to protest, but were overruled by the shakiness taking over your frame. Body too fatigued to allow you much say, you meekly followed Jin.

Beyond the living space, a thinner corridor led away, several closed doors along its walls.

Further you went, until a door just ahead opened. Another person walked out.

When he stopped to face you, his posture remained stiff. Tall and muscular, he was clad all in black except for a towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair fell messily around his head. But you had little time to take this in, as his eyes fixed themselves fiercely on yours, rendering you unable to look away.

Mouth remaining in a hard line, his expression only twitched further into a frown.

Then his gaze flicked abruptly away, travelling to Jin just beyond you.

“Kook-“

Jin never got further than that before the man strode forwards, marching sharply past you and away with a scowl. Turning after him in surprise, you watched his tense shoulders disappear behind Namjoon, who you hadn’t noticed hovering.

Namjoon stared sternly after him, but the man seemed to avoid his gaze.

Jin sighed, sending an apologetic glance at you.

“That’s just Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke, ushering you all further along the hallway, “don’t pay him any attention.”

“Why was…”

You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to ask. Neither of them made an attempt to answer.

You had no idea a wordless encounter could leech so much hostility into the atmosphere. Picturing Jungkook’s glowering face, you blindly followed the others through a different door.

“You can sleep in here.”

“Hm?”

Shaking yourself, you looked around the new room. There wasn’t much to see. Beside a low bed, there was a mirror, a wooden closet and nothing more. Looking up, you didn’t even find a light in the ceiling. The only light leaked through from the hallway.

Clearly reading your gaping mouth and furrowing brow, Namjoon moved in front of you.

“Don’t worry, this is just a place to sleep, nothing more. But since you’re going to have to take those gloves off, we can’t have you in a space with any electricals.”

Stepping back defensively, your fingers pressed tightly together. Having the gloves on had let you almost imagine that nothing life-changing had happened. Like gaining unpredictable powers, for instance.

Namjoon watched patiently, holding out a hand.

“You don’t need them…”

He realised he had never asked your name, and let his sentence trail expectantly. Telling him your name, he relaxed into a smile.

“You don’t need them, Y/N,” he repeated, not that you believed him for a second, “you’ll be perfectly safe. And so will we.”

Only the yearning to collapse onto the bed persuaded you to hand over the gloves. The instant they were in his hand, you swore you could feel a shock go up your arm. Immediately tense again, your breathing became shallower, with no idea how to try and stop power shooting from your hands any moment.

But Namjoon and Jin seemed content. Before you could gather your thoughts, they had left, closing the door and drenching your room in near total darkness.

Stumbling to the bed and virtually falling into it, you wiped sweating palms against the fabric. Your mouth was dry with fear.

This couldn’t have happened.

Alone for the first time since your initial panic, it didn’t take long for your mind to wrap itself in circles again. Only hours ago, you had been sitting happily in your bright office, going through the motions…

One split-second decision from a powerful man had changed that.

You knew full well he had intended for you to die. But he was Bolt...

He had probably forgotten about it already. The guard he sent lifeless to the floor, the secretary he threw from the building.

Itching feeling returning, you swallowed desperately and raised your hands. Sure enough, against the darkness, blue pierced your vision, darting its way up-

Turning your face away, you flinched as the outburst came. Your eyes screwed shut, you pressed your cheek into fabric, not wanting to see the deathly lightning that shot through the room. Shuddering breaths broke into your lungs when at last it subsided.

Letting them fall, limp, to your sides, your hands fisted the covers tightly.

You were almost afraid to open your eyes, knowing it would only show you the empty room, confirmation that this was real. You were dangerous, shut in a safe room where you could hurt no one. Would you ever get out? Succeed in controlling this, like Namjoon had said?

With no idea where you were, barely any idea who the people here were, you wanted to block it out. But even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t escape.

The memory of Jungkook’s suspicious face made your heart sink. Perhaps people should be afraid of you, now. As much as you may want to, there was no getting away from this.

Pushing yourself to sit, you surveyed the room. Eyes accustomed to the blackness a little more, you could make out vague shapes. Your breath fell alone in the silence. This really was the safest place you could be right now, even if it was a nightmare.

As your head turned, you suddenly came level with your eyes in the mirror, and a shock of light.

For an extended moment, you could only stare.

Then all at once you were rushing forwards, tripping from the end of the bed. Bracing your arms against the wall either side of the mirror, you gaped at your reflection.

As you watched, an angular bolt of blue shot across your irises, which were already dimly glowing.

You gulped against the thick feeling crawling up your throat. Faced with this, you could no longer have any hope of denying it.

This was really happening.

Thank you for reading!! Please please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, comments make it all worthwhile!💜💜

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stariikis · 22 days

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lucky girl | kim sunoo

synopsis ; sure, you're already well known as enhypen member kim sunoo's girlfriend, but that doesn't hinder the thrill of tossing a coin and landing on heads when sunoo chooses you, in the midst of the crowd.

pairing ; idol!kimsunoo x gf!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 530 notes ; for @lilacnini and @nishions polaroid memories event ੈ♡˳

The hashtag, ‘#ENHYPENSUNOO’ is trending again.

Or rather, what with all the recent concerts, fancalls and fansigns, all you’re seeing on your for you page are clips of your boyfriend interacting with his fangirls. How many times have you seen the caption, ‘Sunoo noticed me!’, or watched a video of Sunoo briefly interlocking fingers with another girl? You are always coming across concert videos with a shaking camera pointed towards Sunoo, who points their way with a warm smile and hand heart.

You quickly look up from your phone to cross the road, slowly growing tired of the repetitive posts you’re viewing.

But you’re pretty much used to it. Some of Sunoo’s fans have asked you whether or not you get jealous often, and you can safely (and honestly) say that you don’t. They look at you disbelievingly, but don’t question you further. They just slink back into the crowd, desperate for a glimpse of their idol.

You can’t blame them for being curious.

What you don’t ask them, however, even though you’re sorely tempted to, is, ‘why would I ever feel jealous?’ What’s there to be jealous about when Sunoo gives you morning kisses that only you receive? Why would you be overcome with envy seeing lame high-fives when you’re getting daily welcome-home hugs?

Don’t you get the best treatment out of all of them? Even though sometimes you do wish you could have the same memory, a moment you'll be able to cherish in your mind forever.

You run towards where the crowd congregates, screams and whistles for all the members arising from the hundreds of fans. A few brightly coloured heads at the edge of the crowd helps you distinguish where the members are. Rushing forward with only one purpose (to greet all the members, not just Sunoo, of course!), you squeeze past all the people. You don’t bother to wave towards all the fans who recognise you.

“Kim Sunoo!” You scream, probably blending in with all his fangirls when you reach the barricade and lean against it. You whip your phone out to capture this moment, whether he notices you or not, because all you want is to have your very own video to post, to caption with the tag “‘Kim Sunoo noticed me!”

He’s busy on the other side of the street, forming hand-hearts with dazed teenagers and waving cheerily at their general crowd. You’re starting to lose hope in him even seeing you, but when he turns around to check in on your side of the road, his eyes sparkle when they meet yours. He pretends not to act pleasantly surprised when you beckon him over.

“My girl,” he whispers happily, ignoring the collective gasp from everyone around you as he pulls you in and kisses your cheek. Heart starting to race, your cheeks grow warm where he kissed you, and you can’t help but gaze starstruck after him as he walks off, giggling teasingly your way.

And you capture it all on camera – granted, it’s most likely angled awkwardly towards the ground – but at least now you can caption a post with ‘My boyfriend noticed me!’. A beautiful, lasting memory that’s purely yours.

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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I can’t lose you // Mafia!Stucky x fem!reader

Summary: Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

Requested by: @tinkerbellasstuff (thank you so much for the request!)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, hostage, threats of violence, angst, fluff, hurt, size difference, double penetration, protective steve/bucky, anal and vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, daddy kink, praise kink, begging, subspace, pet names, not beta read

Word: 5.6k

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“You know, this feels more like a treat for the both of you rather than me”, you explained watching Steve and Bucky skim through the dresses on the rack around the store and pile their favourites in front of you. Dating the leader of the Rogers mafia had its perks, Steve knowing all the right people had managed to book out the entire store for you to look and purchase anything that you wanted, something he liked to do on occasions to treat you. However, you always hated spending his money, the situation almost feeling wasteful so the shopping experience usually felt like you were being Bucky or Steve’s shadow as they searched through the clothes that they thought you would like or want you to wear which you much preferred to do. Especially as they both had a very good eye for picking out the most beautiful clothing, even though they seemed to be eye-watering expensive.

“If you bite that lip one more time hot mama, I’m going to take it out myself” Bucky muttered as he placed a suspiciously short black dress in front of you, not taking his eyes off of yours as he backed away, disappearing into the mass of clothing rails. Releasing the lip that you hadn’t realised was between your teeth as you shook your head, looking at the article of clothing now in your hands.

“You know, I might just let him”, Steve then whispered into your ear, making you jump not having noticed that he was close. It was now his turn to pass you a deep maroon silk dress. Both of your cheeks warmed at his words, something Steve seemed to notice as he leaned to peck your cheek and smile against your skin. “I love how easy it is to make your flush, baby”.

“I’m going to try some on!” you declared, standing quickly, holding the two dresses tightly in your hand, brushing past the Blonde mafia boss, ignoring his chuckle at your reactions as you moved into the empty changing rooms.

Breezing into one of the cubicles and shutting the curtain behind you, a few seconds passed as you decided which dress to try on first before finally going for the maroon dress. As you were about to ease the jumper up and over your head, a noise was heard on the other side of the curtain, stopping your movements. Smiling to yourself whilst simultaneously rolling your eyes, you shouted, “Steve, I’ve not even tried the first dress on yet, give me some time”-.

All words were cut off as the curtain was yanked to the side, revealing a deranged-looking man that you recognised from a few weeks ago. Not even daring to breathe as your heart pounded violently in your chest, staring at the man that you couldn’t quite remember his name, not that you could even remember your own when you noticed the gun being lifted to point directly at your forehead.

When you and Steve first started dating, he had spent hours going over how to react in different scenarios whether it was kidnap, being tied to a chair or being held at gunpoint but you’d never been in this sort of situation before, Steve and Bucky having never left your side for you to be in any danger. Trying your hardest not to allow fear to take over you completely, thinking hard over what Steve had taught you. The first was to show you were no threat, most of Steve’s enemies were triple the size of you and rather than trying to fight them off, you’d have to make them feel like they were in control so, you raised your shaking hands palms up, showing your surrender. Next was that you must follow their orders if and when necessary until help arrives, try and find out as much information as possible from the threat but as you looked into the desperate man's wild eyes, you didn’t want to risk upsetting him anymore by asking for his name. So you stayed in silence, as you heard Steve and Bucky talking close by, internally begging that you both stayed in there, you couldn’t even think about either of the boys being hurt but luck wasn’t on your side as he waved the gun in the direction of the boys, a silent command for you to walk ahead.

Exiting the changing cubicle, still facing the man, you took slow, steady steps backwards toward the main area of the store. “Turn around”, your heart dropped at his words, hating the fact that you had to have your back to the man with the gun.

Doing as commanded, you held back a scream as his arm was suddenly around your throat, not fully restricting your airwards but enough to make you struggle and grip his forearm to try and ease the tension as the cold tip of the gun was now pressed against your temple. He now led the way with his body behind yours, pushing you forward and entering the store once more. Your eyes desperately flicked between Steve and Bucky who both had their backs towards the two of you, still idly looking at clothes.

“Hands up!” the stranger shouted suddenly, making you jump, breath coming in shuddering bursts as you watched both of your boyfriends instinctively reached for their own guns in the holster attached to their chests but stopping when quickly when they turned and saw your predicament.

“Steve” you pleaded, hoping your voice wouldn’t annoy the man behind you but he didn’t say anything, only pushed the gun further into your temple causing a slight whimper to come out of your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the man demanded at Steve and Bucky’s movements. “Do you want me to blow a hole in her head, is that it? Both of you slowly, take out your guns and slide them over to me and if I hear either of your safety being clicked I can guarantee I will shoot her before you shoot me”. Both men stopped their movements instantly taking a second to contemplate the man's threats before slowly undoing the strap holding their guns to the belts and then sliding them across the floor until they knocked into your feet.

Now it had been a few minutes, and you had contemplated trying to disarm the man exactly how you’d been taught to do but now with the added pressure of both potentially being in the firing line and your increasing panic attack trembling beneath the surface, you decided against it. Instead, you tried to tug on his arm away from your neck as his rising anger only meant that he was cutting off your airway more.

Steve managed to catch your eye, seemingly not even blinking, almost like he was trying to communicate with you and for the most part, it helped you to steady your breathing. Your trust in Steve and Bucky was much more than the fear you held over the man holding you hostage but with their weapons now at your feet and they couldn't approach any closer, only the negative outcomes were consuming your thoughts entirely.

“Paul, don’t be stupid, point the gun somewhere else”, Steve’s voice remained calm as he addressed the man behind you, his name now sparking the memory of seeing him only two weeks ago in the boy's office, he looked just as angry then as he did now. Even as your body continued to tremble, you tried to hold eye contact with Steve’s unnaturally calm face, a clear comparison to Bucky’s when you had briefly glanced over and seen unfathomable rage, his body shaking slightly.

“Oh, should I? Did you do the same when my brother pleaded for his life a month ago?” Paul’s snarled, voice breaking slightly as if he was on the verge of tears. The hand holding the gun began to tremble with his heightening emotions but then he seemed to study himself, pressing it in further into your temple causing both pressure and pain to leave you gasping and knees buckling.

Steve and Bucky both shifted forward at hearing you in pain but Paul continued to shout, “stop! Hands-on your head, both of you. Did you really think you could get away with killing my brother? That there would be no repercussions for your actions, Rogers?”

You weren’t sure when but you’d begun to cry, wetness pooling down your cheeks, a sight that seemed to make Bucky flinch before he decided to speak up. “What do you think you’re going to achieve doing all this Paul? You kill her then what? We let you leave? Do you really think you’re going to get out of this situation without being skinned alive”. His voice was dripped with venom as he spoke and you could feel Paul shake slightly at the threat before he righted himself, standing to his full height which only caused you to stand on your tip toes from his grip around your throat.

“Maybe you’re right Barnes, I won’t get out of this alive, but what makes you so certain that you will?”

“No!” One moment the gun was pressed against your head and the next it was being pointed at Bucky and it was almost on instinct that you released your hold on his arm and reached for the gun, pulling it back to point at you. It was like a reflex, not fully comprehending what you’d done but judging by the dark looks in Steve and Bucky’s eyes, they weren’t happy with it.

What shocked you next was a chuckle coming from the man holding you, his mouth moving to your ear which only caused more rage in Steve’s eyes. “Do you really want to die for these murderers?” he whispered.

“Yes”, you answered honestly, without a moment's hesitation. Pauls's arm tightened around your throat with more strength, cutting off any chance of you breathing in. Struggling against his hold, eyes now closing as the overwhelming pressure increased in your head, white noise pounding in your ears.

“Have it your way then”, Paul continued, the cool tip of the gun once again pressing in against your head, if you’d opened your eyes you would have noticed Steve and Bucky make a move to step forward when the deafening bang of a gun firing echoed throughout the store.

Almost in an instant, the arm around your neck loosens so that you were able to suck in the deepest breath you’d ever experienced but it only caused you to cough violently, trying desperately to take more and more breaths as your knees gave way. A warm body caught you before were able to collide with the floor and Steve’s urgent voice was whispering in your ear as he was able to drag you across the store.

In the rush and panic of the store being raided by other members of Steve’s gang, you were able to spot Paul lifeless on the floor with blood pouring from the fatal wound in his head but Steve was quick to cup your cheeks and turn you away from the scene. “That’s it baby keep taking nice long breaths for me, in and out. Are you injured anywhere else? Are you ok?” You’d never heard Steve fully lose control like this before, no matter the situation he was always level-headed but he seemed just as close to having a panic attack as you were.

As he spoke, he continued to move you throughout the Store until the sun was beaming down on you and the car door was being opened for him to place you into the backseat. Steve’s thumbs brushed away the tears that had stained your cheek, you were able to respond. “Steve, I’m ok, I think, I’m-I’m fine” your fingers rubbed against your neck, something Steve was quick to notice.

His fingers lingered on the sore spot before leaning his face closer and fiercely kissing your forehead, taking a deep breath in, almost like he was trying to memorise your smell before swiftly leaving and shutting the car door behind him and walking back into the shop. Muffled, you were able to hear him shout to Bucky, “take her home, now!”

The brunette was out of the store and into the driver's side of the car in only a few strides, engine on and the store was far in the rear-view mirror. In the shock of suddenly driving off without Steve, your tears had ceased and concern had replaced fearful feelings as Bucky drove harshly through traffic, definitely going over the speed liit as he swerved around cars. “Bucky please slow down, we should have waited for Steve.”

“Put your seatbelt on”, was his only response, blue eyes unblinking as he stared ahead at the road. You couldn’t sit in the back and not be close to him, not after everything that had occurred so made the decision to quickly climb into the front of the car and into the passenger side seat.

“You need to put your seatbelt on as well”, you tried to tell him, fumbling with shaking fingers to clip in your own. Bucky didn’t say a single word as he kept one hand on the wheel, and the other helped to click your seatbelt before quickly doing his own. The two of you didn’t speak another word, even though you wanted to talk, tell him how much you love him, how scared you were, how thankful you are to him and Steve and the gang but every time your mouth opened, all thoughts dispersed.

Finally giving up on the words, you watched him carefully. How painfully his jaw was clenched, the metal hand that was holding the steering wheel so violently you could see the material was beginning to bend and he was sat so still you were sure for a moment that he wasn’t breathing.

So lost in watching Bucky, you’d not noticed that the two of you had arrived at the gates of your home until the car stopped directly outside of the front door. The silence was almost deafening as you swallowed thickly but Bucky’s thoughts seemed to be somewhere far away. Deciding to make the first step, you unclipped both your and Bucky’s seat belt.

“Don’t you ever point the gun at yourself and risk your life for me ever again, do you understand?” His voice was only just above a whisper, cold and full of passion as his eyes finally snapped to look at yours.

You weren’t sure what to respond with, on instinct wanting to disagree, having made the same decision a thousand times more but with the panic and hurt in his eyes, you weren’t sure you could have this conversation right now.

“Yes, I understand”.

“Good… because I can’t lose you” Bucky’s voice cracked as well as your heart as his eyes became glossy with unshed tears.

“I can’t lose you either”, you couldn’t hold back your emotions as warm tears escaped the corner of your eyes as the two of you reached for one another. Bucky opened his arms as you climbed across the car until you were straddling his lap, the steering wheel uncomfortable against your back but you didn’t care as he held you close to his chest. Finally, you released the pent-up emotions, sobbing into his shirt as he comforted you with soft whispers and delicate strokes of his fingers through your hair.

Eventually, your cries calmed and a soft buzz hummed through your veins, muscles relaxing into his hold, the warmth from his body consuming you thoroughly. “It’s ok, I’ve got you, no one’s going to hurt you now, I’m never letting you go”, Bucky continued to whisper comforts that made you feel safe.

A knock at the car window had Bucky shifting but you paid no attention to it, wanting to only be with Bucky, unsure of even how much time had passed. The sound of the door opening filled the silence, and then Steve’s voice was floating to your ears. “Is she asleep?”

“No I don’t think so, are you sweetheart?” Bucky asked before kissing the side of your head.

“I’m awake, sir” you were able to mumble, feeling even fuzzier, mouth dry and head spinning slightly. “I feel funny”.

“Lets’s get you inside baby” Steve encouraged, working with Bucky to ease you from the car and once more half-carrying you into your home.

Promptly you found yourself being placed onto the couch, your body melting into the cushions. Steve knelt before you as Bucky walked into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a glass of water, handing it to you which you gladly drank. The two men waited patiently for you to finish drinking before Steve took your hand.

“What happened today, I can promise will never happen again.” Bucky took your other hand as he sat next to you on the couch, looking at you just as intently as Steve was.

“I know-”

“Please let me finish. What happened today, I don’t know how that little weasel managed to sneak his way into the facility or get as close to you as he was able to hurt you. But please know, you will never be in harm's way ever again. If another person so much as looks at you wrong, I promise their lives will be quickly ended. In fact, I’m slightly annoyed that Sam ended that fucker as quickly as he had, he deserved to feel everything I had planned for him” Steve spat with venom before taking a quick steadying breath before continuing.

“I love you, Bucky loves you and I know you love us. Nothing like this will happen again, can you forgive us?”

“Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive, you couldn’t have helped what happened. I knew what loving you both would be like, the danger I wanted to put myself in and I’d never blame you, I love you and nothing can change that.” The truth spilt from your lips in a blur, every word the truth and you wish there was a way that you could prove this more but you found yourself completely exhausted.

You tried to smile at the men who seemed still just as tense but as you caught each of their eyes with your own, they seemed to relax, squeezing your hands before Steve smiled back. “How are you feeling now? Does your neck still hurt?”

“Slightly, but mostly when I touch it or move my head, otherwise I’m ok, still feeling a little fuzzy” you admitted.

Bucky nodded your head, stroking a hand now your cheek to cup your face tenderly. “Did he injure anywhere else?”

“No, nowhere else”.

“Do you mind if we check?” Steve asked seriously, a slight crease appearing between his brows.

“Yes, of course, but you have nothing to worry about”.

“I still just want to be sure”. Each man sat beside you, your head turning in each direction causing you to wince at the movement. “Look forward Doll, we’ve got you”.

You did as instructed, trying to peak from the corner of your eyes as Steve and Bucky moved with the same idea in mind, inspecting a hand each in their lap before kissing each of your fingers delicately when they deemed there was no injury. Next, they turned your arms, looking at every inch of skin and then leaving a trail of kisses as they moved along the limbs. The tenderness in their movements had you shivering in anticipation, especially as they reached the shoulders and their heavy gaze was felt on your burning face.

Steve leaned forward first, the touch of his lips against your cheeks causing your eyes to shut in calmness. Then as Bucky’s lips connected with your other cheek, did Steve lean in to kiss you deeply, all emotions from the day, the love, everything went into the kiss and it had you moaning and almost wanting to cry and all too quickly he was pulling back and Bucky was taking his place, the metal hand stroking a stray of hair behind your ear.

As Bucky too moved back, you made to follow but the brunette paused your movements, his chuckle deep in his chest, “we still need to check the rest of your body first, mama”.

Steve's fingers gripped the edge of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving in just a simple lacy white bra that displayed your already perked nipples beneath. Their eyes, followed by their lips moved to your shoulders, causing a shiver to spark down your spine and goosebumps to litter your skin.

Steve moved back first as he reached the edge of your bra, “stand up for us baby”. He held up his hand for you to hold as you stood, turning you slightly so your front was facing Steve and your back was facing Bucky who was too now standing. Your breaths were coming out in short bursts as you tried to not look down as Steve knelt before you, hands resting on your hips, searching your body before leaning in a licking a single strip from your navel to the band of your bra.

Bucky was similarly doing the same except when he reached the lacy material, with one hand unclipped the clasps at the back, allowing for the material to slip from your shoulders, exposing your breasts to Steve who hungrily disposed of the material and seal his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out an ungodly moan, back arching to be closer to Steve, hands lifting to hold onto his blonde hair but Bucky eased his own hands around you, tugging lightly on your wrists until they were in his grasp and behind your back.

Steve then moved to the other nipple, his hand squeezing the now wet and perky breast as his tongue teased the other, the sensations and pleasure pulsing to between your legs. Closing your eyes, you concentrated on his touch, the warmth and comfort that it gave you, as well as Bucky was still tenderly kissing up and down your spine, holding your hands together.

“Steve…” sighing as you spoke his name, feeling the need increasing in your cunt, thighs rubbing together to try and ease any sort of tension. With a wet pop, Steve unattached himself from your nipple, leaving it slightly swollen from his mouth's action and once more he continued his visual and physical journey down your body.

Helping you out of your jeans and underwear in one swift motion, dragging them down your legs, Bucky helping to keep you upright as the material was removed from each leg, both socks going with it until you were in the complete nude before them both.

Once again, Steve and Bucky worked in tandem with one another. As Steve lifted one leg up to cradle, he inspected your feet, calf and thigh, kissing and licking as he moved, and Bucky did the same with the leg you were trying to stand on. Both of them doing so was a difficult feat to achieve, especially as both reached your sensitive thighs that had your knee buckling therefore Bucky had to keep you upright but never faltered in his lips journey.

Your skin was now hot to the touch, especially as you could feel the cool air around you grazing over your damp upper thighs from where your desire had spread over and as Steve and Bucky reached the top of their individual thigh, you were already moaning for whatever their next moves were.

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel Bucky smiling against your arse cheek as he leaned in to peck each one quickly and then standing to his full height, standing so his clothed chest was against your naked back, arms trapped in the small space as both his arms encircled around your waist.

You were about to ask what he had planned but his actions proved the answer for this as he lifted you slightly, allowing your legs to drape over Steve’s shoulders and his face to delve between your legs, right to that spot you were so desperate for him to search. Instinctively your thighs clenched around his face as his thick tongue pushed between your folds, but he seemed to like being squeezed from the deep moan he purred.

Steve didn’t miss a single drip of liquid as he licked up and down your slit, slipping his tongue into your already clenching hole as far as he could reach before pulling out and moving up to your early awaiting clit that he greedily sucked into his warm mouth. You were completely overwhelmed by his wonderful mouth, a continuous stream of moans spilling from your mouth.

“Do you like that Doll? Do you like it when he fucks you with his tongue?” Bucky asked, his face had dropped so that his lips were ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Yes, sir” you quickly agreed, wishing that your arms were free so that you could run it through Steve’s blonde hair. Bucky chuckled at your response, kissing your temple and continuing to hold you up for Steve to continue pleasuring you.

As Steve’s tongue swirled around your clit at an increased pace, you could feel the sudden tightening in your abdomen, a sensation that was only increasing with each stroke of Steve’s. “I’m going to cum daddy”, you announced, not being able to hold back the nickname anymore, needing them to know just how far gone you truly were in the pleasure.

The mafia leader seemed to like it if the smile against your pussy was anything to go by and the next moment, you felt the tip of two of his fingers breach your cunt, stretching it out. Once again, the duo worked together, Bucky began whispering encouragements in your ear, “cum for us Doll, that’s it mama, cum all over his face”, and Steve began curling his fingers against that spot within that had you seeing stars as his mouth sucked harshly on your clit.

It only took another breath and the overwhelming sensation consumed your entire body, back arching, legs twitching and cunt convulsing and his fingers as you orgasmed hard. The pleasure was almost overwhelming as you tried to regain your normal breathing pattern.

“I want you both” you declared after a moment, wanting nothing more at that moment than to feel you all connected and to feel full of their cocks. Steve eased a few inches away from your cunt, looking up at you which you could now see as you glanced down with half-lidded eyes.

“I think we should take it easy today, we don’t want to put you under too much pressure today, you need to rest”.

You weren’t able to hold back to annoyed sigh, even if you had tried to. “Well you should have thought about that before checking me for marks, I want you both, please daddy”.

“Sassy Girl”, Bucky whispered against your cheek as he still held you up.

“Fine, but give it some time, we need to prep you first” Steve finally agreed but you were still being impatient.

“No, I want to feel it, I know I can take it, I just want to feel you both now and it was only this morning that you’d both fucked me anyway. I promise I can take it” you tried to reason with him, sticking out your lower lip for better effect as he looked up at you from his position still on his knees.

Steve and Bucky seemed to have a silent conversation with each other, something that you’d decided was taking way too long as you wiggled your hips, knocking slightly into Steve’s face. “Fine, you win baby” he finally relented, standing up and dropping your shaky legs to the floor.

Thankfully Bucky was still holding up most of your weight as you tried to hide your shit-eating grin as Steve began undressing, your eyes dropping to the throbbing cock, already dripping to be inside of you. Steve let out a deep chortle, your eyes looking up at his face to see his smile curved into a beautiful smirk as he held out his arms for you.

“Come here, sweetheart”, the mafia leader helped to grasp your hips, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around his waist, hands that were once trapped behind your back were now gripping the short hair at the nape of his neck.

Your lips were instantly connected with his, desperately moving and pressing against his soft ones, tongue even slipping between. You were utterly breathless and only pulled back to gasp as the tip of his cock pressed against your awaiting hole, pushing in slowly, making sure to give you time to adjust to his size.

“Fuck you feel so good” he praised in your ear, teeth then nibbling the soft lobe as you moaned and tried to refrain from dropping your head back as your neck still ached slightly.

From behind you, Bucky swiftly removed his clothes, moving his hand up and down his shaft a few times as he watched you hungrily from behind, waiting for the moment Steve glanced at him and gave a swift nod and then stepped forward so his chest was once more touching your back, one hand now resting on your hip and the other at the base of his cock.

“Remember Doll, if you want me to stop use the colour code, ok? We’ll take this nice and easy hot mama.”

Bucky's voice was calm as he talked you through his motions as he aimed his cock towards your asshole. Both of the mens body heats were helping your body to relax as you closed your eyes, leaning your head delicately against Steve’s shoulders, taking a few deep breaths and trying not to tense around Steve’s cock that was still inside of your cunt as Bucky began to penetrate you.

Without the fucking session from the morning, you wouldn’t have been able to take him without any prepping as both men were significantly sized. Even with the morning, the stretch of Bucky’s cock still had you squeezing your eyes tightly, trying to remain relaxed so that it wouldn’t hurt as inch after inch delved deeper until his full cock was twitching inside, matching Steve’s.

You almost felt beyond full, your muscles between your legs stretching to the max and you were thankful that they were so tentative of your feelings, letting you take your time to adjust, taking a few deep breaths before attempting to raise your hips slightly, indicating that you were ready.

Bucky and Steve then took complete control so that all you had to do was hold onto Steve and melt into their bodies as they began slowly rolling their hips, working together to drag across every single one of your nerves that had you screaming out in pleasure.

They began slowly, making sure to still not cause you any harm but before long you couldn’t take the reserved pace. “Please go faster, I need you to fuck me harder daddies, please!”

You sounded desperate and that’s because you were, wanting to feel the rough slaps of their hips, the way their fingers clenched harder into your skin as they started to lose control of their own restraints. You needed this thought, needing to forget about the day's events, about how close you were to losing them both.

The orgasms you were experiencing were enough to make you forget your own name, only being able to scream there as your cunt and asshole tightened and contracted almost consistently around them but they didn’t relent their movements.

Maybe you were lost in subspace, the surroundings have become fuzzy, or maybe you were just cock drunk but at some point, tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t lose either of you” you sobbed, head tipping back against Bucky, not caring about the pain you experienced in your neck from the movement.

Both men stopped fucking you which was the exact opposite of what you wanted as you desperately moaned, “please don’t stop!”

They did as instructed, almost trying to move closer, kissing along your shoulder and face, catching any tears that had slipped out as they put as much emotion into their fucking as you were into your moaning.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, ever! I love you” Steve grunted as his hot cum coated your pussy, dripping out and onto the floor as he sloppy slowed down his thrusting.

Bucky continued to fuck you hard, your cunt already spasming through another orgasm, you weren't even sure what number it was anymore.

“I’m going to always protect you mama, don’t forget that” Bucky grunted, his balls tightening to his body as you were able to moan out ‘i love you’ as he found his own release, his cum dripping down and missing with Steve’s.

All three of you were breathing heavily, sweating glistening your naked bodies as you kept your eyes closed. Bucky and Steve had pulled out at one point but continued to hold you up between them.

“You with us baby?” Steve asked, kissing your forehead, not caring about the sweat.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, sounding half asleep.

Bucky smiled into your shoulder, kissing it once before taking a step back, “don’t worry Doll, we’re going to look after you” he promised, watching as Steve began to carry you up to the bedroom, planning to get you washed and into bed. Even if tomorrow the full extent of the day's events hits you, you knew that Steve and Bucky would be there for you no matter what.

#mafia au #steve rogers smut #stucky smut #steve rogers one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes one shot #steve rogers fanfic #marvel smut #marvel one shot #stucky one shot #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky barnes #mine*

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chaewon2000lover · 10 months

Text

Return on investment. Part 1 of 2.

Male reader x Kim chaewon

2.5k words.

tags, wholesome, standing sex, pussy eating.

“Click” “Click” “Click”“Click”“Click” “Click” “Click “Click”“Click” “Click” “Click” “Click”

“Uhh, god finally done”

you look to the side past your many monitors and across your desk where your phone lays buzzing.

“Unforgiven I’m a villain, I’m a”

you swipe at it and it turns off.

“Huh, that always manages to cheer me up at the end of a hard day managing way to much of way to many peoples money, I’m so happy I made her new song my ‘work over’ alarm”

as you stand up to leave shortly after turning your seemingly endless wall of monitors off, you remember that checking your phone might be a good idea, considering that your girlfriend will be in New York soon.

“I know you just got done working, see you tomorrow xxx”

attached was a picture you were not completely sure you should be looking at right now as you walked down the halls towards the elevator, though as per usual you were probably the only human in the building.

“they should really just let me set up an office from my own home”

regardless you opened it.

“god I can’t wait to have her in my hands, her perfect perky breasts her slightly protruding hips attached to her perfect little butt, and sitting on top of all that what must be the most perfect face in the world currently adorned with an amazing expression” you think.

“hope you have that same outfit tomorrow 😍😍😍😳😳”

“haha I’ll see if they’ll lend it to me, maybe you could buy it🤔🤔🐯”

“Maybe maybe 🤔, How are you ever going to pay me back for this🤔🤔”

“you’ll find out exactly how tomorrow❤️‍🔥”

“Ohh yeah, what can you do for me that I can’t just buy?”

“This

I know how much you want to touch and hold this”

“an older one i like it”

“And also these abs, I know you can’t buy any common whore in America or anywhere with abs as nice as mine or a face as lovely”

“did the sweet Angel just say whore”

“Tomorrow I won’t just say it”

“Okay chae as per usual you win, I don’t need to blow my load while driving”

“your driving, why didn’t you put it on voice call yet?”

“I though you were with your members?”

“ohh yeah, that’s true😙”

“You know what chae if you weren’t so incredibly adorable you would be so annoying to deal with”

“Hey that maybe be true but you best treat me nicer tomorrow, especially if you want this adorable idol to be yours to play with”

“okay I’m sorry chae😥😥, but remember who paid to upgrade your flight and who paid to put you and your members in the top suite”

“okay, sorry how about we settle it tomorrow?❤️‍🔥, also all the girls are loving it, though they won’t stop asking me who paid for it”

“just tell them it’s an adoring fan, or even better your sugar daddy😳😹😹”

“whatever, are you still driving?”

“yeah it’s a long way around NY, I’ll show you tomorrow”

“I’ll look forward to it love you xxx”

“love you to xxxx”

As you fell asleep, all you were able to think about is her body and how it will feel, you’d been nervous before but nothing can compare to this feeling.

And now the day has finally come you stand outside the venue, leaning against your favourite car a new Ferrari 296 GT3 barely road legal and not the most comfortable but it sure does draw a lot of looks and it would right now if you weren’t in a remote part of the parking lot.

“hopefully chae won’t be able to notice how little sleep I got” You think aloud to yourself.

You just learnt what can top the nerves from last night, the nerves you are feeling as you see a little speck getting closer, slowly it becomes bigger brighter and more human like, as you can begin to properly make it out, you know its her getting closer and closer you can recognise the outfit she’s wearing, and chuckle a little to yourself.

“Baby, you got the outfit, how much is it gonna cost me” you quip.

she doesn’t reply instead she just jumps into you, to which of course you open your arms and wrap them around her.

“Your so warm”

“thanks chae it’s good to know that I’m a effective hot pack”

you lift her up and swing her tiny frame around a little before kissing her, your mouth barely touching hers as you spin her around.

“mmh”

with that little sound from her you place her down.

and bend down to kiss her on the cheek.

“get in the car let’s go to a restaurant then we can get back to my place”

“What kind of restaurant?”

“whatever kind you want? This is New York you can get anything you want, at least if you know the right person and you’ve got the money and trust me I’ve got both”

“ohh yeah, you make it sound like your in the mafia” she giggles

“Well I’ve got all the connections to be, it kinda comes with the job”

“Okay bad boy” she giggles “why don’t we have some Italian then”

“you really want me to be in the mafia eh, but yeah sure”

“I can see why you became a fund manager now” she quips

“why because I’m so charismatic“ you say as you start the car and it roars to life.

“no, it’s because your jokes are terrible, so your better off being serious, it suits you well” she says giggling.

“wow thanks chae, maybe I’ll show you how serious I can get later” you say slightly seductively.

“Maybe” she says as you look to the side to see that she’s taken her hat off and placed it on the dash.

You pat her head, and run your fingers through her hair “god I still can’t believe your finally sitting next to me”

“Neither can I”

“you know chae, you really are quite small” you say while looking straight ahead focusing on controlling this far to fast car.

“well your not that big either, how tall even are you” chae says with a tinge of offence and a small pout on her face.

“ohh yeah, let’s see about that in a few” you say with a suggesting tone, “also I’m 5,9 thank you very much”

Chae blushes a bit and then says “hmm must be how skinny you are”

“I prefer lean” you say feigning offence, “maybe we’ll see what you really think of my body later”

Chae giggles and nods

then she says something that surprises you. “Did you sleep last night?”

“you know I usually can’t sleep easily let alone well, 6-7 hours is my norm, what with the stress and anxiety from the billions of other peoples money i manage”, though you sort of forget to mention that last night you probably got 3 to 4 hours of sleep due to her.

Now you’re standing in front of a fancy Italian restaurant, with chae right next to you. “Don’t you think I’m not dressed up enough for this?” She says.

“maybe but who cares, there’s no need to worry about other people looking at you I booked a private booth”

“really, but it looks so expensive” she say’s almost hesitantly.

You nod “that’s because it is, but I think I’ll get my return soon enough”

she giggles “sure mafia man”

you chuckle and walk her in, past the lady at the front desk who points you to your booth, (which is just big enough to hide you two away in a corner).

as you two sit and eat dinner you talk about her tour, your investments (only for a little while) and more, she mainly talks about how nice the food is which your happy to hear, she even takes a few pictures (probably for her Instagram).

soon the hour or so flys by and you two are out and on the way back to your home.

eventually through the silence caused by the impending interest and excitement, you slow your Ferrari down and pull into the parking garage just outside your home.

“It’s uhh, just over there” you say with a dry cough and point her towards your place.

“Where?” she asks.

You grab her hand “oh whatever, don’t worry I’ll just take you, come on” you do just what you said you would and chaewon blushes instantly.

You lead her up into the elevator, “which floor are you on” she asks sweetly.

“Top floor” you reply only thinking about what your going to do once you get there.

A deafening silence falls upon you two, until you reach the top floor and you both spill towards your place, past some other apartments and towards yours.

as soon as you enter you grab chae by her shoulder, “take your top off” you say filled with desire.

she does as told and tosses her hat to the side, then you pull her gloves off, her shoes already lay at the entrance, she pushes you towards the bedroom and you drag her while only stopping to take the last bit of an article of clothing off.

until you arrive, her pushing you onto the bed in just a bra and panties and you underneath her with just your boxer shorts on.

“Versace, I like it” she giggles.

“thanks” you say with a grin.

you reverse the position and put her down on the bed flat on her back, then you slide down and teeth her panties off.

The first flick of your tongue hits her lower lips, making her shiver in anticipation.

“Ohh god, keep going” she beckons you.

You begin by licking, flicking and slurping away at her sweet pussy enjoying all the sweet sweat and pussy juices you can get.

her tightening caverns and vast folds capture your full interest as you do a deep dive into them, similar to how you dive head first into an promising investment opportunity, you thoroughly check and explore everything, what if I move my tongue like this over here, what about over there, what if I flick at this and then massage it gently, what does this part taste like, all these questions enter your head and you explore them without fail, making the sweet sexy lady you love writhe squirm and twitch in pleasure, her hands finding you head to twist your hair and push you further onto her, proving her love for your explorations, her own mouth to busy letting out sweet sensual sounds to form coherent confirmations.

your hands slide around behind her and grab at her cute rear, you squeeze it, toy with it, and fondle it all while still serving her front flawlessly, her cute body only serves a reply in the form of more squirming under your control, your every flick, lick, slurp, grab, squeeze, and touch elicits a sensual reaction from her.

Her being in this moment is the greatest mix of cute and sexy, the way she lulls you in further while still seeming to have no previous experience of her own, makes you both want to laugh and ravage her body.

You pull away from her deciding with her sensitivity that now is the best time to strike, you crawl up her body your hand back in front now playing with her small mounds instead of her cute ass, your tongue now sliding its way up her beautiful defined sweating body till it reaches her succulent mouth, and you lay just above her ready to impale her onto your cock whenever ready, “You ready baby” you ask into her ear.

“Please” she moans into yours, you gently bite down on her ear, and begin to slowly push your sizeable rod into her soft pussy.

“Ahh, ohh” she moans sweet but lustful, angelic but sultry moans into your perked ears.

you slowly pick the pace up pushing in and out of her slowly and delicately with deliberate intent and control behind each stroke similar to that of a master painter except instead of a brush you use your rod, and the picture you paint is that of great pleasure and beauty.

Your mouth latch’s back onto her’s, salvia being exchanged between them like the stocks you trade all day long, you explore your options that you now own inside her mouth, the returns look and more importantly feel great, you use your tongue to tug at and twirl around hers.

Your hands get more grabby, more aggressive, greed is common in what you do, and while you can control it all day long in this very moment you let it run wild, doing what you want with your hands, your mouth doing it’s thing too wildly exploring the most lucrative unexplored territory in history, even more then some gold mine in Peru.

You and Chae trade muffle moans and words of confirmation between your mouths, you bite down on her lips making her pussy twitch around your cock, clearly the roughness turns her on.

So you decide to rub and pinch her nipples, this pushes her and she gets hotter and hornier, the more you do the hungrier you get, and the closer you get too.

You decide to take what you want, so you wrap your hands around her and lift her off the bed, holding her in air, “ohh, god, what are you doing” she mumbles.

“giving you it as rough as you so want” you say before bringing her down slowly onto your cock, the angle changes the way it feels for both of you, for her it feels like being slowly impaled and she loves it, for you the mix of control and depth feels incredible.

You bounce her up and down faster and faster each time on top of your cock eliciting many sweet moans escaping her mouth.

you build till your at a rapid pace, slamming Chae’s body up and down on your cock making it disappear and then reappear again and again, her moans at a similarly rapid pace fill your expensive room.

“Chae I’m getting close” you say in one short puff of air.

“so, am, I” she moans having to gather her breath between each word.

Your mouths collide again like they are at war over ownership, your hands begin grabbing at the butt that they hold up, and you continue bouncing Chae up and down at a breakneck speed.

Her cute bum and lovely tongue push you closer and closer to your breaking point.

“oh my god, that’s so good” she moans in delight.

Soon you feel the need for release, so you throw Chae back up and then plunge her back down fully inserting her onto your rod, making her scream and start shooting her juices onto your body as you launch yours into hers.

As you come to an end riding out the high, Chaewon nestles her head into your neck, you feel her warm breath on your skin, as you both relax.

You whisper into her ear “Chae I’m going to work hard until the company lets me start working from home, and at that point I’m going to move to Korea.”

She giggles “okay, I’ll look forward to that mafia man.” And immediately after finishing her sentence she falls asleep on your shoulder.

You gently carry her to your bed and lie her down alongside yourself, and slowly you too drift to sleep, the only thing on your mind how much you love this woman.

To be continued.

#kpop smut #kpop gg #kpop #kpop fanfic #le serrafim #kim chaewon #male reader #ferrari

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crangrapel0ver · 5 months

Text

Sunburns and Silence

Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader.

Summary: Katsuki cares for you after you become effected by the drawbacks of your quirk. Once you go back to your normal self, he expresses how much he wants to take care of you; although you guys can't help but be interrupted by your well-intentioned friends.

Word count: 4,076

Tags: Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader, Bakugou cooking for reader, dealing with sunburns, heavy petting, and making out.

“Get in groups of three! we're doing a quirk exercise. Try to get with someone who's quirk doesn't suit yours. Two of the groups will have four people, not three.” Aizawa ordered while he led us to the middle of the arena. It was a similar arena to the one we were at for the sports festival, but it seemed to be a bit bigger without as many stands above. I look to my classmates to see who would be good for the exercise. Most of the groups had formed while I was taking in the arena, and there were only a few people left. Mina, Kaminari, and Sero had grouped together almost immediately. As did Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka. Iida, Tsuyu, and Momo had paired together near Todoroki's group. The other groups were too far away for me to discern, but as far as I could tell, the only group left missing someone was Bakugou and Kirishima's group.

“Oi! Come on Airhead. You're with us sweetheart.” Bakugou snickered as if he was amused with the group. He waved me over with two fingers and I quickly jogged over to him just like he beckoned. As I approached Kirishima turned from Mina's group and gave me a bright smile.

“You ready to win this (surname)?” Kirishima asked with a pat on my shoulders.

“Oh you know I am Kiri! I wonder what it is we'll actually be doing.” I grinned up at him while I looked over to Professor Aizawa. He was looking around with his hair pulled back in a bun to get the hair off of his neck. I understand why. The April heat makes my skin sticky. My own hair was pulled up out of the way. We were all in the school gym uniforms; although most of the students had rightfully ditched the jackets. Even in a thin white tank top, I could feel the sweat pooling on my forehead. I could tell the heat was getting to the boys as well, them having to wipe the sweat off their face.

We hadn't even started the exercise and the sun was already making us exhausted. I just hoped it would get over soon so we could go inside and get something to drink.

“Now that you all are in groups, go ahead and organize yourself at the edges of the arena. We're doing two groups at a time. you'll fight to try and grab each other's flag while protecting your own. You'll have fifteen minutes to get the opposing flag. The first group up is gonna be…” I zoned out as Aizawa drags on. His voice becomes a murmur as I look to the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and the sun wasn't getting any dimmer.

I flinch as a hand slaps my back. It's Katsuki. From the way Kirishima has already walked off, I assume we're to find a spot at the edge to watch. I wordlessly follow him as he finds Kirishima next to Mina, Kaminari, and Sero's group. The first two groups go to their flags and I take a seat against the arena walls to rest my feet. I can see Katsuki's watchful gaze out of the corner of my eye. I just watch the grass and try to not fall deeper into the murmuring of my friends' conversation. The heat isn't letting up anytime soon, and before I know it the first groups are done. I hear Aizawa call for the next two groups, but his words are lost on me. I haven't even used my quirk and already, I'm experiencing the drawbacks of exhaustion. I see a tall figure in front of me and before I can recognise I've put my hand out, Bakugou is pulling me up and telling me that I'll be staying with the flags. All I have to do is stop anyone who comes too close while he and Kirishima get the opposing team's flag. I have to try not to get lost in his ruby eyes while he tells me about the plan.

“You listening to me, Airhead?” He huffs, stirring me out of my stupor. I can see that Momo, Iida, and Tsuyu have already gotten ready for the match. I nod to him as confirmation while he squints at my silence. He lightly slaps my arm as a sendoff and he's off to get set with Kirishima. I can see them nod at each other while Aizawa counts off the match.

As soon as Aizawa says go, they're off in a flurry. I can barely make out what's happening when I see Iida coming my way. I stop him in his tracks just before he gets too close. I can tell he's fighting to get out of it, but I'm too focused on him for the hold to weaken.

Tsuyu is next passing around Bakugou and Kirishima and I can see her gearing up to snag the flag. I paralyze her where she stands and I can feel my concentration slipping. Iida is able to move slightly and he's about to break out completely when Kirishima makes his rounds back to our side. He manages to get Iida in his rock solid grasp before he can speed towards the flag. I still have Tsuyu stuck where she was before, but then I can almost feel my mind slipping away from me.

I know Bakugou will be aggravated if I don't protect the flag. He gave me the easiest job and I don't wanna let him or Kirishima down. I hear a muffled yell, but before I can look towards the sound Tsuyu is out of my hold and reaching for the flag. I'm able to push her away and temporarily stop her, but my hold is limited. she can't run towards it or reach for it, but she's still able to thrash her body around. I can only afford to focus on her if I want to keep the paralysis. I can see Kirishima and Iida fighting somewhere near our flag. I just keep repeating Pause! Pause! Pause! I could see Tsuyu slowly moving out of my hold and I couldn't stop her.

I couldn't do anything. It was as if I was quirkless. It felt as though my quirk was being used against me. I just looked at Tsuyu's movements to grab the flag, only to be stopped by Kiri.

“Bakugou retrieved Yaomomo's flag. Bakugou's team wins.” I can hear Aizawa's voice somewhere behind me in the arena. I saw Kirishima helping up Tsuyu from the ground. I wanted to move to ask if she was okay, but I couldn't seem to move towards her. I can see Katsuki walking up to me, passing Kirishima, Iida, and Tsuyu. I can only look at him, as he says something. He's probably teasing about not being able to keep my quirk to hold them down. I can see him squinting at me like he always does when he's upset with me.

“Did you hear me?” He asks with something lacing his tone. Is it concern or is he aggravated with me ignoring him? I nod at him slowly, not being able to move more than the subtle nod. He only sighs and grabs my elbow. His grip guiding me to the edge of the arena. Over to where the other groups sat. The sun is still beating down onto us. I can feel his calloused hand rubbing the inside of the forearm. One of his hands holds mine and he rubs his thumb on the back of my hand. It's more gentle than I expect him to be, and I don't know what it's for. I'm just staring at him trying to find the strength to move my hands to hold his. I move my other hand over to his, but the ability to contract my hand is lost on me. I'm turned to face Katsuki, and I can hear Aizawa saying something about going back to the dorms for the rest of the day. I didn't make an effort to leave until Katsuki moved the hand holding mine to rest on my back. He lightly pushed me forward with his hand not leaving my back.

We're in the common room for class A and I'm sitting on the sofa chair that Katsuki put me in after I got back from my shower. It had taken me longer than most of the other students because I couldn't seem to open the door handles or move the shower nod. I struggled to close my hands around the soap to wash my face. I couldn't take my hair out of the ponytail it was put in this morning. When I arrived back downstairs, Katsuki stood up from the table in the living room. I could see him walk over to me and I didn't realize he was trying to lead me over to one of the chairs.

“What do you want to eat?” His warm hand grabbed my cold one, and I could've stayed in his hold forever. I look up at his ruby eyes and I can’t help but relax at his warm gaze. I frown at the question while just barely shaking my head. I don't know what I should eat right now. I can't imagine cooking in this state. The last time I tried to cook while I was like this I ended up burning my hand. Katsuki was so mad when he found me in the kitchen, clutching my bubbling hand. He simply huffed and pushed my hand under cold water while he took the pot off of the stovetop.

“You're not cooking like this. Not after you burnt yourself last time.” He snarled at the memory of me crying silently while cradling my hand. When it happened, I couldn't even yell or ask someone for help. I just silently looked up at him with my puppy dog eyes. I nod at Katsuki, and he just sighs and pulls away to walk to the kitchen. My eyes follow him and stay with him while he moves around to different shelves and cabinets. I see people shifting out of the corner of my eye, but I don't bother to check the movement. I only look over when Mina waves her hand slightly in front of my face. Mina and Kirishima are sitting on the couch next to my chair while Kaminari is crouching in front of me. He reaches to rub my hands with a gentle smile, but I can only glance at him before looking back over to Katsuki. When I glance over, I meet his eyes and he only nods at me then goes back to cooking. I'm pulled back to Kaminari when he squeezes my hand. He asks me if I'm doing alright and I can only stare while he frowns at the blank expression on my face. He glances over to Mina and Kirishima while making a concerned face, glancing at me with a head tilt. I blink slowly and look over to where Katsuki was, but he's gone. My brows furrow as I slowly look around to find him.

I'm pulled out of my silent concern when he appears in front of me, ushering Kaminari out of the way. He sits on the coffee table in front of me and he looks between me and what he has in his hands. When he moves his hand to my face, I look at his hand not knowing what he's doing. He's holding a spoon. A spoon full of fried rice with small pieces of egg, peppers, and sausage. It's one of my favorite meals, but I didn't know Katsuki knew that. He ushers the spoon to my face again, and I think I know what he wants now. I open my mouth slightly and he puts the spoon in my mouth. He gives me time to chew it before he picks up a cup for me to drink. I've been parched since we went outside into the sun, but after the exercise I couldn't open the water bottle in my room. I tried at it for a couple minutes silently in my room before giving up and getting in the shower. I’m usually not able to move my hands and use small muscles when I’m exhausted like this. It’s like when you lose blood flow to a certain limb and it does to sleep. I lose it in most places which leaves me feeling hollow. Like my body doesn’t work anymore.

I sometimes feel bad for people who are under my quirk if this is what they feel like. Your mind is slower and fuzzy. Your limbs might as well be absent because you can’t use them. You're helpless in your own body and you can do nothing but wait it out. Usually when I get like this, someone will drop me off at my room and I’ll sleep until I can feel again. On days like these, people don’t seem to notice my inability. They think I’m just tired, not that I’m being paralyzed by my own quirk. Unable to control my body or mind fully. Some people notice, but they don’t know how to help. Not that I could tell them what I need, I barely know what I need myself, but Katsuki never has to be told what I need. He always seems to know what to do without us needing to communicate my needs.

Katsuki continues to spoon feed me the food he made for me, always so patient with me. The warmth of the food spreads through my cold body. I can hear Mina, Kirishima, and Kaminari gushing over the sweet action, but I can't seem to care. Their conversation continues on, but Katsuki doesn't add to it. He only focuses on me. One of the students on the other side of the room must’ve dropped something because a shattering sound startles me out of the solace Katsuki is giving me. A burst of voices and laughter flows throughout the room, killing the comfortable quiet that I was basking in. My facial expression only barely changes from the blank exhausted one to a slight curiosity. Katsuki doesn't follow my gaze over to the source of noise, he just stays looking at me with that expression I can never place. He taps my knee after a second of me observing their conversation, but when I don’t look back at him, he softly says my name. I look back over to him with a slow blink and soft sigh.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand rubbing my knee and lower thigh. The action is chaste, but It still warms my heart. I tilt my head and lightly lift my shoulders into a shrug. He continues to rub my leg as he looks over to the rest of the class which isn’t going to settle down any time soon. He picks up the bowl slightly to ask if I still want any and I just look away to the empty kitchen, still not being able to find my words. He understands my intention without it needing to be explained. He moves his hand from my thigh to grab my hand gently. He pulls me up slowly with him and takes me to the kitchen where he washes the dish, and I just stand where he left me.

Why is he so kind? For anyone else he would have just left them to deal with themselves. He would’ve scoffed if someone else had asked him to feed them. He’s always been a little gentler with me, but I assumed it was because he thought my blank state wouldn’t be able to handle his brash nature.

I don’t notice when he stops doing the dishes until he's in front of me and putting his hand on my lower back. He ushers me to the elevator, and I spare him a glance when I notice he presses his floor number not mine. He rubs my back with his thumb, the warmth from his hand bleeding through my shirt.

When the slow elevator pings and the doors open, I silently walk wherever Katsuki leads me. When I’m with him it’s easy to allow myself to shut off, knowing he will take care of me. He puts in the code to his door and when we get into his room he just points towards the bed. I sink down into the well made bed as he walks to get something. I grab one of his throw blankets and pull it around my shoulders. He’s gone for a couple minutes, and there's some shuffling in the bathroom where he went. When he leaves the bathroom he turns on his small heater and walks over to me. He has a container of clear gel in his hands. He sits the container next to me on the bed and reaches to pinch the material of the blanket between his fingers.

“You gonna let me put this aloe vera on?” I nod up at him, my tired gaze not leaving his ruby eyes. I pull the blanket off and the material rubs on my sunburnt shoulders that I hadn’t felt until now. The skin hadn’t been aggravated by my tank top, but the blanket seemed to set it off. Usually when I went to relax with Katsuki in his room, this was my favorite blanket. Claiming the soft blanket as my own whenever I was here, but now I wanted nothing to do with the itchy material. His lips tightened into a line when I winced, but it's relaxed whenever he let out a deep breath through his nose. He gently pulled my hair into a bun to keep it off my back.

He easily opened the container and began rubbing the gel into my red shoulders. My eyes close with a sigh as the cool gel eases the hot skin, and I can't help but smile softly. He puts a little bit of aloe on my forehead and cheeks. He spreads a thin layer of gel across the bridge of my nose. He wipes the last bit on the lid of the container, and when there's nothing left on his hands he moves to cup my jaw. His thumb rubbing the edge of my jawline that doesn’t have gel on it. I lean into the touch and he smiles at the small action.

“That feel good? I thought you were gonna melt outside today.” He chuckled softly, but I only looked up at him. He planted his knees on the bed and bent down to be face to face with me. He glanced down at my lips and I leaned forward looking at his ruby eyes that were always softer when they looked at me. I licked my lips and his grip tightened on my jaw. He closed the gap and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I kissed back as best as I could before he pulled away again.

He had a fond look in his eyes when he looked at me, only inches away. I leaned closer to him again with my eyes closed, silently begging for another one. He granted my wish, this time with a deeper kiss. He moved to cup the back on my neck where there wasn’t any sunburn. His hands lacing through my hair while the other one wrapped around my waist. My hands rested on his muscular arms. He kissed me like I was air and he was drowning. He held me like I was never going to be in his arms again. He devoured me like he was starving. When he pulled away I looked into his rose colored eyes and he must've seen my dazed look.

“Are you better now?” he asked, not letting me out of his hold just yet. I nodded at him and he gave me a skeptical look.

“Thank you Katsuki. For everything.” I whispered with a quick kiss on his lips. I wasn’t completely back, but the numbness has subsided to a fuzzy feeling. Even though I’m still exhausted, it’s something I can manage now.

“You don’t have to thank me for this. Someone has to take care of your ass.” He mumbled into my lips as he closed his eyes again and kissed me once more. His hands pulled me tighter to him before releasing and guiding me to lay against the bed. I moved to lace my hands through his hair as he explored underneath my tank top. He just barely grazed the underside of my boobs, and he kissed me a little harder realizing I don't have a bra on. He continued to kiss me with a warm passion until a knock startled us out of the makeout session.

“Bakubro! Is (surname) in here? Mina went to check on her and she wasn’t in her room.” Kirishima asked from outside the door. Hopefully he hadn’t heard anything. If he saw us now, with puffy red lips and the aloe vera smeared on Katsuki’s face, he’d definitely know something was going on. Katsuki finally pulled his warm hands out of my shirt and walked over to the door. He opened it just enough for me to be blocked from Kirishima’s view.

“Yeah, she’s in here. I just got her some aloe vera and she’s resting a bit before she goes to her room for the night.” Katsuki says with ease. It’s technically true, but Kirishima doesn’t need to know that our version of ‘resting’ was with Katsuki’s hands up my shirt and his tongue in my mouth. Kirishima seemed to hum in understanding and I see Katsuki freeze when Kirishima asks about why he has aloe vera on him as well.

“Tch, I was a little sunburned also. Why are you being so nosey, Shitty hair?” He tried to defend, but Kirishima just chuckled as he patted Katsuki’s shoulder. He wasn’t believing a word that came out of Katsuki’s mouth and we all knew it.

“Whatever you say, just remember we’re going out into town tomorrow morning. Try to make sure she actually gets some rest.” He grins and I’m sure he can see me from just behind the door.

“I will, Shitty hair.” Katsuki mumbles as he looks back towards me. He says goodnight to Kirishima and Kirishima says goodnight to both of us with a boyish laugh. Katsuki shuts the door with a sigh and returns to the bed with a small grin. He gets back on the bed over me and pulls him into a slow kiss. Katsuki puts one of his hands on my exposed thigh and the other in my hair. This time I lace one of my hands through his hair and grip his arm with the other. He smiles into the kiss and I can’t help but smile as well. We break apart and he looks down at my lips before initiating another breathtaking kiss. I almost think I’m going crazy when another knock at the door sounds. Am I having deja vu? No, unfortunately there’s another person at the door. Katsuki groans as he’s forced to break the kiss and take his hands away from my soft skin once more.

“Come on Bakugou! You can’t hide her away in here.” Mina yells through the door, and I can already imagine her stance. Her hands are probably on her hips, impatiently tapping her foot while waiting for Katsuki to open the door. When he does, Mina can clearly see the aggravation slipping onto his expression. “Don’t be so sour. I just wanted to check that she was feeling okay, but clearly she’s feeling more than okay right now.” she grinned slyly and I could feel the glare from Katsuki. She waved through the door past Katsuki and said goodnight as she walked off in the direction of Kirishima.

There’s no way we're hearing the end of this tomorrow or anytime soon. I can’t seem to care as Katsuki falls back into the bed and pulls me onto his chest. Eventually the fuzziness of quirk exhaustion fades and Katsuki’s warmth encompasses me as I fall asleep on his chest. His warm hands wrapped around my waist and my thigh pulled up around his waist. My hands resting on his chest as his heart beats lull me into a quiet sleep.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #making out #how do i even tag this #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #im just a girl #i wrote this instead of sleeping

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kiwisbell · 8 months

Text

Whiskey Sour

chapter three: painkiller

Reuniting with your estranged father while you finish college in Austin has unintended consequences. His best friend, for one.

series masterlist

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

series tags and warnings: dbf!joel being extremely criminally attractive, big ol' age gap (40s/early 20s), unprotected piv (do not follow the leader), creampie, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, oral sex (m and f receiving), dry humping, spitting, biting, joel miller is a MUNCH, very appropriate use of a showerhead, consensual somnophilia, yoga, heavy emphasis on payphones, daddy issues, family reunions, angst, dead mom, grief and mourning, father/daughter relationship, bartending, reader is a woman in STEM (author is not), being a student in university deserves a warning probably, attempted drugging (roofies), college boys suck, possessive sex, possessive joel, protective joel, obligatory warning for joel's salt-and-pepper hair, masturbation, wet dreams, no outbreak AU, hurt/comfort, healing, no sarah or ellie, stargazing, face-sitting, pining/yearning, happy ending

word count: ~ 5.6k

chapter 3: painkiller

Stargazing, and knowing wrong from right.

Joel doesn't quite trust your car not to blow up, so he drives you both out near Devil’s Cove when the clock strikes eleven.

You sit next to him on the truck bench, in your little skirt, and he tries not to look at the way it slips up your thighs. He cannot stop thinking about your words: Don't think you aren't getting a gift after everything you've done to help me. Part of him is thrilled to know you think about him enough to get eager about celebrating his birthday. Another part of him doesn't want to celebrate getting older. He’s old enough.

A third part doesn't give a shit about a present, when he's got you right here, right next to him.

“You were right,” he says. “I do like the telescope.”

“Did you spend a lot of time in the country?”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel even though the truck radio is apparently tuned to a local station that does not play music. The announcer’s voice drones on about the Longhorns’ losing streak. “When I was a kid,” says Joel. “My parents had a farmhouse—raised cows, chickens, sheep, all of it. They had a business goin’ for the locals who wanted eggs or fresh meat.”

You can picture it: a younger Joel, dressed in a farmer’s flannel and a cowboy hat, herding sheep and tending to customers with that same charming smile you know now. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Younger brother. Tommy.” Joel briefly glances your way. “Lost my dad when I was ten. After that, Mom, Tommy, and I ran the place ourselves. I dropped out of high school to do it full-time when she got sick.”

You feel a twinge in your chest. “You, too, huh?”

He sighs through his nose. “Yeah. I would've been about your age.”

“Funny, the way things work out.” You lean back in your seat and turn your head back to the windshield. “But that does sound nice. A life away from all the madness. Just… quiet. Simple.”

“You'd like that?” Joel chuckles. “Thought you were a city girl.”

“I’m not saying I want to milk cows all day,” you tell him with a laugh. “Mom and I used to drive to the east coast in the summertime when I was in high school. We’d visit all the coastal towns and the little restaurants, go whale-watching. That was the only time we could really relax, outside the big city. I looked forward to those vacations most, before she got sick.”

Joel recognises the melancholy tone your voice takes when you talk about your mother. He hears it in his own voice. “She sounds like a good mom.”

“She was.” Your eyes flick to him again, and this time, he's looking at you. “I’m sorry, Joel. I would've liked to meet her.”

“I'd like that, too.” He fixes his eyes back on the road. “You, uh… you hear from Liam lately?”

“And we were having such a nice conversation,” you tease. “He lives with me, Joel. I’m bound to hear from him on a regular basis. Practically daily.”

Not the right answer. His hands tighten around the wheel. “I don’t like him.”

“I couldn't tell.” You pull your knees up to your chest and hug yourself into a tight ball. “You know I’ve never had a real boyfriend?”

Joel scoffs. “Excuse me if I have a hard time believin’ that.”

“I’m being serious!”

“Nah. No way.” Joel shakes his head. “Those idiot high school boys were linin’ up at your door the way these idiot college boys are. You’re too pretty to have never had a fuckin’ boyfriend.”

Your cheeks feel white-hot. “Joel. That’s ridiculous.”

“I ain’t lyin’.” His grin is boyish when he looks at you again and your nerves flutter. “Guys have a way of knowin’ things.”

“Oh, you're so full of shit.” You smack him gently in the arm. “If they were all so interested, why'd they never tell me?”

“Because they were boys.” He gives you a pointed look. “And so is that asshole you live with. He thinks he's got a right to you ‘cause you live with him.”

“No, he—”

“Yes, he does. Any guy would be lucky as shit to have you.”

You lift your brows, opening your mouth to retort, but Joel just looks away, that crooked smirk pissing you off as much as it makes your heart pound with girlish anxiety. “We’re here.”

You slump back in your seat as he parks in a dirt lot by the edge of the water. Just down the road, by the docks, there will be college kids gearing up to celebrate the Longhorns’ first win of the season, and some just wanting an excuse to get hammered. You hop out of the truck as Joel unlatches the gate at the back. “Should be a good view here…”

He trails off when he looks up to find you staring at the midnight sky. The light of the stars reflects in your eyes and the curve of your neck shimmers with a faint layer of sweat in the humid air. When you swallow, he watches your throat hollow, and he wonders how a man is supposed to forget you. If a man can ever see your face, your body, your wondrous, awe-struck smile, and rest peacefully.

“They’re beautiful,” you gasp. “Just like… like the coast in summertime.”

Joel surprises himself when he joins you at your side and reaches for your hand. “It’ll look better if you're laying down,” he says softly. “C’mon.”

You put your hand in his. The touch shifts his axis. The touch is an electric shock to his entire body, restructuring his pathways, reconfiguring his brain. The touch, he thinks, will forever change the way he sees you. It will change everything.

“Joel.”

“Mmm.” He realises he hasn't moved. His fingers engulf yours, your skin so soft under his rough palms that he worries he'll somehow ruin it.

“Thank you.” It’s a whisper, your pretty lips parting in the shape of a gratitude he will never deserve but will spend his moments earning as best he can. Your eyes are fixed on your joined hands, the way your thumb caresses the space between his thumb and forefinger.

He leads you toward the back of the truck. You crawl up yourself, and it's ungentlemanly of him not to help you up, but he cannot touch you again. The world will fall out from beneath his feet.

But it still does. When you shift so you're lying on your back, barely a foot from him, the earth blinks out of existence. All that remains is the faint heave of your chest, skin scattering moonlight, and the way you meet his eyes in the void.

“Gotta look up to see the stars, baby.” His voice is rough.

Your head turns and you face the sky above, but he doesn't move. Not quite yet. He savours the image of your profile, the silvery light on your face, the contentment in your eyes. Your lashes are spidery and your hair fans out beneath you, and all he wants to do is reach out. Touch. Guide you beneath him. Gaze into your eyes as he undresses you. Watch your bones melt for him, your troubles flee your brain, your mouth drop open in a long, dark whine. His name.

“That one’s Venus.” You point to a bright star overhead, and then another. “And that’s Polaris. Those are the only two I really know. And you aren't looking at the stars.”

Joel swallows hard. “No. I’m not.”

“I like it when you call me that.” Your eyes meet his again. Your noses are inches apart.

“Call you what?”

Your breath is a warm puff of air. “Baby.”

He’s losing control of his own body. His fingers crave the warmth of your skin, the heat between your thighs, the knowledge of what's under that fucking skirt. His whole body craves your closeness, needs your attention, will die without you curled up against him. His body seeks the ruination of yours. His heart seeks the comfort he knows he can give you.

“That so?” He can barely get it out.

Your eyes are wide, buttery soft, needy. “Yeah,” you sigh. “It feels good.”

Jesus Christ. “I…” His mouth is so fucking dry he can hardly swallow anymore. “I didn’t mean for—”

“I know.” He’s going to do it. He’s going to throw all of it away and touch you. He’s going to—

Your head turns back toward the sky, and your eyes flutter shut. He can see a small pearl trail down your cheek, and he realises it's a tear. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice breaking. “This is your pre-birthday. You should be giving me ideas for a better gift.”

Joel’s own voice isn't faring much better. His laugh comes out like a hoarse whisper. “This…” He finally looks up at the stars and finds Venus. “This is all I could ask for.”

“Don’t lie to me, Miller.” There’s the playful tone he likes so much. “I’ve got your number.”

“I mean it.” He folds his hands over his stomach. “It’s peaceful out here. Reminds me of home.”

“Do you think your mom would've liked it here?” you ask.

“She would,” says Joel.

You sniffle. “Yeah, mine, too.”

Around him, the crickets chirp and the air is stagnant. It feels like a snapshot of time. Except that you're here, next to him, the warmth of your body rolling in waves over his nerves like a hundred cresting waves.

“Boys never liked me.”

Joel can't help but look at you in disbelief.

“I’m telling you the truth.” You shrug. “When I had my first crush on a boy, I avoided him like the plague, because I didn’t want to be rejected. Then I set him up with my best friend.”

Joel blinks. You laugh like you can feel his amusement. “You don't have to tell me how stupid it was. I know. I just figured, if I didn’t go for it, I’d never get hurt.”

“And what happened every time after that?” asks Joel.

“I was always too busy. I never let myself go to parties because there was always an excuse. Work, school, Mom. I had more important things to do, bigger things to worry about. Last time I went on a date, Mom convinced me to reschedule our usual hospital visit so I could go out with him. Halfway through, the hospital called me.” Your breath shudders out of you. “By the time I got there, she was mostly gone. I lost my last moments with her.”

Joel’s heart surges forward, lurching out of his chest. His hand finds a stray wisp of hair and tucks it behind your ear. It isn't in your eyes or blocking his view; he just wants to. He wants to be the one who's right here when you’re sad. He wants you to never feel like you have to put your own life in restraints—never again. “That was not your fault.”

“He was a total dud, too.” You laugh mirthlessly. “They’ve all been duds.”

And me? he wants to ask. If I put my hand here and I put my mouth there, would you deny me? Would you shove me away? Or would you let me treat you the way you deserve?

He wants to be your guiding hand. He’ll give you what you need. He’ll be as firm as you want and he’ll be gentle all the other times. He’ll show you just how wanted you are.

“You’ll find better,” he says instead. “Can’t promise they won't be fielded beforehand.”

You laugh, facing him again. “Is that so, Miller? You gonna background check them all?”

Fuck yes, I will. Joel shrugs, all pouty and grumpy again, and you just want to grace those patches of grey in his beard.

Yes, it will cross a line. Yes, it will ache so beautifully to touch him the way you want. You don't know how to reconcile these two parts of you: the part that's here to rebuild a life, and the part that wants to simply forget how difficult that life can be and drown yourself in the sweet tang of being alone with him.

“Oh! I forgot.” You bolt upright, scrambling off the truck bed so fast it gives Joel whiplash. You reach into the passenger’s side and pull out your bag. “I stole this from the kitchen. Thought you might be hungry after one cup of coffee.”

You produce a styrofoam container with a piece of chocolate cake inside. “I may have also asked Dad what kind of cake I should bake for your birthday.” You bite your bottom lip. “This’ll have to tide us over until the real thing.”

He doesn't know how to cope with the amount of affection surging up his throat, overfilling his bloodstream. Your mouth is so fucking close. How would it taste? Your dark, sexy perfume smells so good, your hair so soft and a little wind blown from the car ride. You would be so perfect, so beautiful, so soft to touch.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He’s pine and sawdust and a little bit of mint. He’s manly, dark and a bit of grey, strong and broad. Capable. “You don't have to eat it,” you tell him, “but I brought two forks, just in case.”

His chest squeezes. “C’mon up here, baby.”

You climb back up onto the truck bed and situate yourself next to him, both of you sitting up against the back window. You hold the container as you both dig in, the cake a little too soft but still good. Still chocolate. And he's sharing it with you.

It’s not even his birthday yet.

“How’s that Daily Texan gig workin’ out for you?” he asks.

Your eyes light up. He remembered? “I’ve been put in charge of the Student Wellness section. I don't know why the fuck they thought that was a good idea.”

“Gives you an opportunity to learn how to relax.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Any suggestions?”

“This is a good start,” offers Joel. “Stargazing.”

You pocket that idea. “At least I didn't get put on Sports.”

“Y’know I was on the swim team in high school?”

“With those shoulders? Doesn’t surprise me one bit.” You lift your eyebrows at him and all Joel can think is, I want you, I want you, I want you.

When you both decide it's time to head back home, Joel eats the last bite of cake at your request and you slide back into the passenger’s seat. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “That was a hell of a lot more fun than trying to sleep.”

“No, it wasn't,” you laugh. “But I’m glad I could help, even a little. You don't sleep well?”

Lately, baby, it's because of you. “Pretty much not at all.”

Your brows knit together, but Joel shakes his head. “Don’t need it much, anyway. I get by just fine.”

“You tell me that when you pass out at the wheel because the caffeine wore off. Do you want me to drive?”

“You still have to drive home on a shitty alternator,” he argues, a little more worried about the state of your car than he's letting on. “I’ll be okay. I’ve gone longer on less sleep.”

You chew on your lip, and Joel brushes the rough pad of his thumb over your chin. “I’ll be okay,” he repeats. “Just buckle up.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Just don't kill us.”

I haven’t tasted you, he thinks. Dying won’t do just yet.

In his dream, you’re wearing the black thong. Nothing else.

You knock on his bedroom door and he lets you in. He doesn't know why. He shouldn't. But he does. And you're there, your pretty tits sitting so perfectly for him, your hands demurely clasped behind your back, your eyes looking up at him expectantly. Wanting. Dark.

He takes control. He pulls you against him, his chest against your back, tilting your head back, exploring your skin with his mouth, dipping his fingers into the flimsy waistband of that godforsaken thong and ripping it in two.

In his dream, you're naked. Joel grabs handfuls of your ass while his hips batter you from behind, your slick, hot pussy sucking him in so deep that his whole body may disappear into yours. It's a dream. It doesn't make sense. But sense knocks at his ribs and cracks them in order to escape. Your mewls and moans as you take his cock replace any inkling of conscience, consciousness. You melt into the mattress and forget your worries with every thrust. He makes you forget.

That's it. That's it, baby. You can take me. My good girl. So fuckin’ good, baby, that’s—

He’s awake. Joel grunts, shucking away his covers. His cock is tenting his boxers, which he scrambles to get off as he burns from the inside out. His cock slaps against his stomach, precum pooling at his navel. He hisses, grasping his shaft at the base, his hips bucking helplessly into his hand. His head tips back against the pillows as he begins to jerk himself off to the image of you underneath him. Moaning. Whining. Joel, Joel, yes, oh, my—

“Fuck.” He grits his teeth, spitting into his hand and twisting his hand around the head of his cock. Your mouth parts around the tip and your tongue darts out to lap up the precum on his slit, and he grunts your name. It’s fucking filthy. He’s filthy. “Goddamn—”

Holding you, cradling your head, watching your mouth take him, the tip prodding your throat. Your watery eyes, your needy, leaking pussy, your knees folded so primly under you. As if his cock isn’t down your fucking throat. “Jesus,” he growls, jerking faster, the pressure building in his ears and his throat and his stomach, his balls pulling up—

His cum spills over his hand and stomach as he groans your name, long and loud, to the empty room. He pants, staring up at the ceiling. Running his clean hand over his face, he shakes his head. Mike would kill him if he knew. And he’d fucking deserve it.

Because Joel knows that he doesn't just need any warm body. He doesn't need to forget you by finding someone else. It isn't just a vague need.

It is you.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head jerks up so fast your neck twinges. There's a guy looking at you with a sheepish smile, gesturing to the seat on your left. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to… interrupt.”

“No! No, I’m sorry. Please, feel free.”

He slides into the seat and pulls out his books. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

You're a little surprised to see him offer his hand to you. People your age still shake hands with one another? Giving him a smile, you introduce yourself. “You just had to catch me while I was lost in thought. I’m usually a lot more suave.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” says Steve. He has a charming smile; he's about your age, with dark hair and a lean figure, and a pair of kind blue eyes. “Have you started studying for the midterm?”

You snort. “Please. If I think about it for one second, I’ll be breaking all the rules of my article.”

Steve laughs, assessing you with a brief once-over. “I recognise your name. You edit for the paper, right?”

“Guilty.”

“Only if it were bad. I liked your last piece.” He places his hand over his heart. “Your dad taught you this?”

You smile. He actually read your latest article. “He did,” you say brightly. “I was freaking out over the move here, and he told me how to ground myself.”

Steve grins. “Well, it's good to know the paper has someone of quality writing for them.”

You roll your eyes. “Smooth.”

“I know. Practised it over the last couple minutes in my head.” Steve taps his pen on his notebook. His notes are neat and his handwriting is small. “Hey, if you ever decide to brave the hell that is the study guide, I’d be happy to do it with you. Okay, more like reluctant, but happy to do it with you.”

You really could use the study buddy. “Yeah. That would be great.”

“Thank God,” sighs Steve. “I thought I’d have to beg.”

“Oh, you still can, if you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with a laugh, turning to face the front of the room as the professor walks in. Wordlessly, he writes down a phone number on the corner of his page and rips it out, sliding it over to you. You stuff the scrap of paper in your bag.

Neither Joel nor your father show up at the bar tonight. They both have to get up early to drive across town for the job, but work is a little less alive without the company. Rob still makes sure to walk you to your car when your shift ends at eleven, and it only takes three turns of the key for the engine to start.

The problem is that halfway through the journey home, a torrential downpour starts slicing rain in a diagonal path to your windshield, and your engine sputters until the lights go out. “Fuck!” you cry out, turning the key again and again without luck. Your car is dead.

You climb out of the driver’s seat and wave your apology to the people behind you as you run to the bumper and begin to push in the direction of the road’s shoulder. “Come on,” you beg, shoving and digging your heels into the ground.

Several cars behind you begin to honk their horns, and it only makes your eyes fill with tears. The rain lashes you in the face and soaks your hair through to your scalp, your clothes drenched in freezing-cold water. You don't even have a jacket to stay warm.

“Come on!”

The car gives when you manage to get the front right wheel on the shoulder. Not a single person gets out to help you push the rest of the way, instead deciding to veer their cars around you once there's enough room. Still, they don't care enough not to splash you in the deepening puddles as they race by.

“Don’t worry about me,” you scream, your voice getting lost in the pounding of rain on the ground.

Shit, shit, shit. You're too far away from home to walk the rest of the way, and there isn't a payphone in sight. So, you wrestle your keys from the car out of spite, gather your bag with your work uniform, and make a decision.

He’s making dinner when there’s a knock on his front door. He cleans his hands of raw chicken and heads toward the door. It’s pouring rain; what the hell kind of solicitor wants his business this badly?

The door swings open, and you're standing on Joel’s porch, dripping wet from your head to toes, clutching your bag close to your chest. “H—hi.”

The look in your eye is so resigned, so sad, that he can't for a second think about how it looks for you to show up at his home so late at night. “Jesus,” he says. “What the fuck happened?”

“My car br—broke down. Dad isn’t h—home, and I had to wa—walk.” Your entire body is racked with relentless shivers as you hug yourself. “Do you m—mind if I use your dryer?”

Joel’s heart cleaves in two at the sight of your soaked-through jeans, your drenched sweatshirt, and his blood simmers at the thought of you having to walk home without anyone to keep you safe.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, brows pinching as he ushers you inside and envelops you in his arms. Your whole body sags into him, and he doesn't give a shit that rainwater is seeping through his clothes. You’re cold and he’s warm, and you can relax. Fuck, just being held like this makes you sniffle, forgetting the cold, damp walk and the pile of work you haven't done and the money you don't have in favour of imprinting the feeling of his hard chest and his soft belly pressed against you.

“Joel…”

Your weak, soft voice rattles in his brain and tastes like honey on his tongue. He pulls away to cup your face in his hands, moving your damp hair from your face. “You’ll catch a cold. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, okay?”

You nod, slipping off your shoes and letting him lead you to his bedroom. “Take whatever you want,” he tells you, gesturing toward his closet where all his shirts are hanging up. “Pants are in the drawer there. You want coffee? I’m just making dinner.”

Despite yourself, a little laugh slips out. “You’re making d—dinner at mid—midnight.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I was waitin’ for you.” His hands caress your arms, up and down, up and down, watching the tension in your shoulders ebb away. “I’ll let you shower.”

“I d—don't want to stay,” you tell him. “I mean, I do, b—but it’s s—so late.”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “Shhh, baby. You've never been a bother and that hasn't changed now.”

“Joel.” He turns at the doorway to face you again. “Thank you.”

He leaves without another word because he doesn't trust himself not to rush back inside and gather you up in his arms once more. You're in his goddamn bedroom. You're feet away from the bed where he jerked off to a dream of you last night. And you can never know. You will never know—no matter how many lines he crosses.

After your shower, you pick out a too-big sweatshirt emblazoned with his company logo and a pair of grey sweatpants. Your cheeks feel warm knowing that he's worn these, maybe even slept inside them, and you dry your hair in a towel. You feel clean, less miserable, and bone-tired, but you still hesitate before you turn the knob and leave Joel’s bedroom.

He’s in the kitchen—you can smell chicken, steamed broccoli, maybe cheese?—and your mouth waters. You didn't know you were hungry until now. Joel’s gaze finds you when he hears footsteps.

You. Wearing his clothes. Dressed in his sweatpants. You even fucking smell like him, your hair cleaned with his shampoo and your body washed with his soap. He may keel over. Blood rushes to his cock, filling it out in his own sweatpants, and if you notice, you don't say a word.

Settling into the chair at the little, circular dining table, you meet his eyes across the way. “This looks good, Joel. Thank you.”

“Where’s your car?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“On the shoulder of a road somewhere,” you reply. “Your neighbourhood was closest, and there aren't exactly many payphones in the suburbs. I’ll call a tow truck in the morning.”

“You pushed your own car to the side of the road?” Joel’s angry instincts are prickling again, his ears burning at the thought of you alone in the dark and the rain, helpless to get anywhere but to him. “Did someone help you?”

Your eyes find a fascinating spot on the table, your silence giving him all the answers he needs. Your clothes were even flecked with mud when you came to him, meaning you'd been splashed by passing cars. Joel’s jaw ticks, his fingers flexing into fists.

He couldn't fix this. He couldn't be there when you needed help. He couldn't even know about it until the damage was already done. “Fuck, baby.”

“It’s okay.” You meet his eyes again, giving him a sad smile. “I’m all right.”

He sighs harshly through his nose. “Come here.”

You follow orders beautifully, closing the distance between you and him. Slowly, so slowly, you bracket his thighs with yours and lower yourself onto his lap, your arms winding around his neck.

He knows you can feel the insistent press of his cock against your thigh. He knows the telltale widening of your pupils, the darkness in your eyes—the thrilling catch of your breath when he finally lifts his hand to the small of your back, fitting you against him.

There is no going back from a thing like this.

“You're upset,” he says into the thinning air. It feels like a slight. “You don't want me. Not like this.”

You don't reply. You just begin to move.

“Jesus.” His hands find your hips on instinct, squeezing hard as if he can get you to stop. “Shit. What are you—”

“I want you,” you whisper as your hips gyrate slowly over his stiff cock. You never break eye contact. “I want all of you.”

Your forehead drops to his, your noses brushing as he keeps pulling you closer, guiding your hips over him, betraying the words that leave his mouth. The heat between your thighs warms his body, your cunt dragging over his length and your mouth dropping open at the sparks of pleasure against your clit.

Joel grits his teeth, helping you move. “Fuck. Fuckin’ hell, baby.” His cock twitches, leaning precum into his boxers. “That’s it. Take what you want. Take what you need, baby girl.”

He will drink your soft moans down and guide your whimpering voice into his mouth. But you need to come first. You need to take, so he can give. “So fuckin’ good,” he grunts.

“Joel.” It’s a mewl, quiet and pitched high.

He thinks about the truck bed, the stars, the times he wanted and wanted but never took. But it's never been about him. This is you, baring yourself for a man who will hold you and admire you and expect nothing in return. He doesn't. He wants you to know it.

This is about you. He can be selfish later.

He can feel that you're close, your hips stuttering and your breath catching on every intake. “I know. I’ve got you. Just keep goin’.”

Maybe it's his voice. Maybe it's the consistent pressure against your clit. Maybe it's the need to be warm and safe and pliable in his arms. You come, grasping the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy hair as your other hand clutches his shoulder. But he's got you. He won't let you fall.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He holds you close as you shiver, the cold pulsing out of your body and warmth settling deep inside. Your brain is a bit fuzzy, your eyes a little unfocused. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you away so he can look at you from a better angle. The sounds and sights of your orgasm will linger on the ceiling of his brain like a light that's always on.

You just came on his lap. You've never even kissed him, and the mere feel of his body ground you into a fine golden powder. “I meant it,” you tell him, combing his tousled hair away from his eyes. “I want all of you.”

“You’ve got me,” he says, and he means it. You’ve both tangled a hundred lines into one another; the mess you've both made is unrecognisable. A Gordian knot. But this is real, and it's clear. This is true and present and whatever happens next is inconsequential compared to the peace he feels when he has his hands on your body.

There are no muddied waters when he looks into your eyes.

“When's the last time you ate?” he asks.

An answering rumble in your stomach makes him chuckle. You giggle, still somewhat high from your orgasm. “Today. Yesterday. What time is it?”

He squeezes your thighs and gestures with his chin toward your side of the table. “Eat.”

“But…” Your eyes drop to the space between you, where his cock visibly strains against his sweatpants. You take your lip between your teeth. “You're hard.”

“Yeah, I am. You’re a sexy fuckin’ woman who just used me to get off.” His thumb traces your bottom lip. “I’m old, baby. I can be patient.”

You pout, but he pats your ass and lifts you off him. Your legs tremble as you lower onto your chair. It’s a plain dinner, and it’s not steaming hot anymore, but at least he can cook. And it tastes so much better after an orgasm. After the hellish night you've had. Joel watches you while you eat, and you watch him, too.

“I’ll drive you home,” he says, breaking the silence. “And I’ll call the tower in the morning.” You swallow a piece of broccoli. Joel points his fork at you. “And don’t argue.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were.” He’s right. “You’ve got enough to worry about.”

You look at him awhile. His cheeks feel warm under your scrutiny, the way you openly admire his face, his body, his hands. “I think you're my hero, Joel Miller.”

Jesus, if that doesn’t make his chest puff up a bit. “That so?”

You take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. “Will you let me show you?”

Under the table, your foot trails up his ankle. Joel breathes in hard. As much as he wants to bend you over the fucking table and pound you senseless, you need to rest. And he needs to make sure you get safely home, where your father will never hold suspicion of the things Joel has done to his daughter. He’ll fashion a story that's close to the truth. He gave you his clothes and drove you home, and he did not let you grind on his cock until you came on top of him.

“I won't tell him,” you say softly. “I won’t.”

Joel senses your unease, your hesitation. “I know, baby. I trust you.”

The smile creeps up your face and fills his ribcage with warm light until it's seeping through the bones. “I know what I’m going to give you for your birthday.”

#kiwisbell's fics #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #whiskey sour #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

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angryschnauzer · 1 year

Text

On Your Knees

Summary: As general maid for 221 Baker Street, you assist most of the residents. However on one quiet night when most of them are out, only one resident returns to his home... a little worse for wear. He thanks you in the easiest way possible.

Fandoms: Enola Holmes 2, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, NSFW, Drunk Sherlock, Oral Sex (Female Receiving).

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Wordcount: 1854

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

On Your Knees

The cold wind rattled the fragile glass in the frame, a chill advancing into your room even further as the dark night continued. The building of 221 Baker Street was colder than usual, most of the apartments empty for the night due to various parties and festive events happening this time of year meaning the tenants wouldn’t be back until the morning.

As the scullery maid of 221 Baker Street you were in and out most of the apartments each day, tending to the fireplaces and delivering meals if required. The housekeeper who supervised you telling you where to go and what to do wasn’t around either, though her instruction was rarely needed anymore, you knew the routines of all of the tenants and could read the calendar hung in the kitchen showing who was home and who wasn’t.

At that moment the wind rushed against the window again and you pulled your dressing gown further around your body, shivering beneath your quilt. Glancing at your own laundry you’d hand washed that evening, your bloomers hung on the wooden airer where the chimney breast rose through the building. With every pair you owned doing little to dry in the cold attic room, you cursed your schedule for not giving you time to do it earlier in the day when the sun had been coming through the window. Now you just had your thin nightgown and woollen stockings to keep you warm beneath your dressing gown.

You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of movement in the hallway far below your room. Freezing you wracked your brain to try to remember if any of the tenants were due back tonight, but none were. Through the eerie quiet of the house there was another bump and a quiet curse. You reached for the large floor brush that still sat beside the door to your room with its dustpan, lifting the brush as a weapon as you opened the door and carefully stepped out onto the old floorboards to peer down through the stairwell. Clinging to your brush you leant forwards over the bannister and peered through the darkness, a single lamp in the hall four floors down barely illuminating the entryway before you suddenly saw a shadow move. Letting out a small gasp you clamped your hand over your mouth as you watched, but that tension evaporated when you recognised the wide shoulders and curly dark hair of the tenant in apartment B;

“Detective Holmes!” you called out, the figure below swivelling rapidly before spinning and looking up.

“Ah. There you are…” a soft hiccup followed as he swayed on his feet.

“I’ll be right down Sir”

Just last week Mr Holmes’ sister helped him into his apartment having had too many drinks at the pub, and it would seem he’d done the same again tonight. Padding on stocking clad feet you descended the stairs quickly, soon arriving in the hallway as Mr Holmes swayed a little on his feet;

“Can i help you to your apartment Sir?”

“Oh that would be *hiccup* wonderful Darling”

Hooking your arm around his back and pulling his own arm over your shoulders, you started to help him up the stairs one at a time, before arriving at his apartment.

“I have a… I have my… dammit” Mr Holmes cursed as he fumbled for his key, and as you glanced down you could see that the bunch of keys in his pocket had caught on the fabric and were stuck. Without even thinking you batted his hand away and slid your much smaller hand into his pocket, moving the keys around until they were no longer snagged on the fabric. You tried not to think of the heat radiating from Mr Holmes thigh, barely separated from your touch by a thin layer of cotton, nor the firm muscle beneath the fabric that flexed as your delicate fingers brushed against it. He answered your silent thoughts with a grunt, before you pulled the keys out and unlocked the door, all whilst he had his arm around your shoulder.

His body was firm and heavy, a welcome weight against your cold frame, and as he swayed you did so too, before he finally pulled his arm free of your shoulders and started to shuck off his coat and scarf, struggling as he went about the task.

“Mr Holmes, Sir, please let me help…”

He swung around, shrugging his shoulders, his coat now held on his arms around his elbows, his wide shoulders only accentuated by the white shirt and silk waistcoat that clung to his torso. Whilst distracted you didn’t spot his flailing, one stray arm of his coat socking you around the chin, and although not hurting you, caught you by surprise and knocked you back where you lost your footing and fell on your bottom.

“Ta-da! Done it!” he proclaimed proudly, before spinning around; “Where did you…?”

Climbing to your feet you took the bundle of coat from the floor;

“Ah, there you are Darling, didn’t get you did i?”

“Just a little Mr Holmes. Let me hang this up for you”

As you hung the coat onto the hook near the door you heard a gasp and a soft thud, turning to see Sherlock on his knees before you;

“Mr Holmes!”

“My Darling, i am so sorry, so very very sorry”

He had big puppy dog eyes as he looked up at you, his drunken state obviously accentuating his normally muted emotions; I should have been more careful… a heinous crime I have committed to sock a young lady around with my coat, please… please forgive me…”

You tried very hard not to laugh, for this was so far removed from what Mr Holmes was like normally, but also it stirred something within you, to see this big man on his knees before you, his face mere inches from your stomach.

“Please Darling…” He edged closer, wrapping his arms around your bottom and pressed his cheek to your stomach; “Please forgive me…”

At first you were frozen with fear, this was not only completely out of character for Mr Holmes, but wholly inappropriate, but the long days and lack of sleep perhaps clouded your judgement and you cautiously rested your hand on the top of his head;

“It’s… it’s ok Mr Homes, Sir”

He turned his head and peered up at you;

“Let me make it up to you”

You could only watch in shock as he moved his hands to rest them on your stocking clad ankles, before he started to inch those warm palms up your legs. When he reached your knees his fingertips rubbed soft circles against the backs of your thighs, your nightgown bunching at his wrists. For the whole time you kept eye contact, unable to draw your gaze away until his fingertips reached the top of your woollen stockings and he let out a small grunt of appreciation. He ducked his head forwards and pressed a single kiss to the skin just above the tied ribbons that secured the stockings in place.

“You smell divine” he muttered softly, inhaling deeply before he bunched your nightgown up in one hand and pressed his nose to the apex of your thighs.

“Oh! Sir!”

He pressed a kiss to your soft mound, before his fingers stroked softly along your seam. Never breaking eye contact he lifted one leg over his shoulder, opening you up like a spring blossom. A warm puff of breath warmed your skin before he leant forwards and his tongue found your silken pearl. If it wasn’t for his firm shoulder your leg was hooked over you would have damn near fallen to the floor, you did lose your footing a little, your back falling to rest against the door behind you and your hands found their way to his dark curls.

The slight tug on his hair seemed to spur him on, his wicked tongue parting your folds, and the appreciative murmur that came from his muffled lips only excited you more. Sherlock knew exactly what to do, and you can’t believe you had never even considered that this fine specimen of a man would be skilled in the art of lovemaking, but because of his cold demeanour it just hadn’t been something you’d thought of.

You tried to concentrate on the look of bliss on his face, but the way his long tongue was pushing at your secret canal, his nose rubbing against your pearl, it was almost too distracting. Your head slowly fell back until it rested on the wooden door behind you, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure grew in the pit of your belly. It was only when he moved a little, his lips finding your pearl again and he slid a thick finger into your tight channel did your eyes spring open;

“Oh lord!”

A quiet chuckle came from between your thighs, looking down to see the mischief in his eyes and he winked at you just as he slid a second finger in alongside the first. He crooked them just so as he moved them slowly but firmly, stroking at your velveteen walls, his lips and tongue increasing their efforts until you felt a surge of pleasure, a white hot fire bursting forth from your core and you climaxed with a loud cry of his name;

“Sherlock!”

As your body trembled he slowed his fingers, before pulling them free and holding them up to the faint candle light, inspecting the stickiness on them with a learned curiosity, before he sucked them both clean. He looked up at you as you trembled above him, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and he went to rock back onto his feet, but unfortunately losing his footing and topping back onto his behind;

“Oouf!”

As your nightdress fell back around your ankles and on unsteady legs you rushed forwards to help him to his feet, his eyes a little glazed from his drunkenness. He was like a lead weight, swaying on his feet until you managed to half carry half drag him to the chaise lounge and unceremoniously drop him on the soft cushion, watching as he twisted his body until he was on his back;

“What was i saying? I’m sure i should have thanked you for something…” he was already nodding off to sleep, oblivious to the rich smell of your sex now hanging in the room.

You let out a sigh before turning and to the quiet background noise of his snores you lit a fire in the hearth to warm the room. Making sure a heavy yew log was placed in the centre of the grate to ensure a long slow burn, you set the fireguard in place. Spotting his long blue dressing gown hanging over a chair, you carefully laid it over his sleeping form, and with one last glance back at him you exited the apartment. At least with the fire in his apartment now going a sliver of warmth would seep into your room that cold night.

#sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes movie #henry holmes #henry cavill

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yunhofications · 1 year

Text

rock with you - j.yh

pairings: dom!yunho x switch!fem reader

chapters: 1/2

synopsis: yunho’s a rockstar and doesn’t care about anyone but himself, at all. he loves the attention he recieves, but the only attention that really matters to him is from the girl who can’t seem to stand him at all. well, thats what she tells herself anyway.

warnings/tags: yunho’s kind of a dick, but not really, size kink, dumbification, choking, man handling, biting/marking, praise. hes quite a mean n rough dom, fingering, cheating implied (not by yunho), pet names, drinking. no actual sex in this part

word count: 3.7k

authors note: hi! this is my first ever suggestive fic, i originally was only going to do one part but im going to do two now, if this chapter does well :] i hope you all like it, im new at writing these things!

it was a Sunday night, 9:54 pm to be exact. The bar wasn’t crazy busy considering most people had work the next day and normal individuals wouldn’t spend their free night before work drinking their sorrows away in a lousy run down bar. Not that it phased you in the slightest, you brushed off the judgmental stares and glares from the bartender since you were probably on your 20th shot and you had the tiniest little body. Who the fuck is fitting in that much alcohol without getting drunk? Well, you were pretty tipsy and your eyes were slowly giving out, as well as your entire body, about to hit your head against the wooden bar counter before a hand slips in and stops you from getting a concussion.

You don’t give it much thought, perhaps it was just the bartender, or some random stranger who was afraid you’d die or something from slamming your head down. But it wasn’t. Oh how you wished you were dreaming, and that your mind was playing a little trick on you from all the emotions and all the god damn alcohol that was running through your veins. Then the voice spoke. It felt like nails on a chalkboard, you hated it. “Y/N.” You could hear how smug the voice was, you could hear the smirk on their lips. Fuck.

“Go to hell Yunho.” Your words being just a big fat mumble, moving his hand away and allowing your head to rest against the hard wood counter. Yunho, Jeong Yunho. Many people adored the man, which you never understood why. He was a dick with a terrible attitude and didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself, the nerve of him even coming near you made you wanna snap. Though, you had no energy to do that. You could still feel him next to you, his perfume was strong, and you’d only ever recognised that scent on him, no one else.

“Are you ever gonna stop being a little bitch Y/N? I just saved you from getting a concussion. You should be thanking me.” A scoff left his mouth. It was true though, Yunho didn’t care about anyone else but himself, he adored the attention from others, women. It was all he got, he was a rockstar afterall, who wouldn’t love the attention? Afterall, thousands of women screaming his name as his fingers played away at his guitar, what a life to live. However, as much as he adored all those women, one woman in particular was all he truly desired, to hear her scream his name, only for him to hear, for her to be a mess on his cock, a mixture of his and her cum dripping from her bare cunt. That woman was Y/N, and she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“I didn’t ask you to, now go away. I don’t need you ro add to my problems right now.” You managed to lift your head and turn to face the dark haired man sitting beside you. It bothered you that he was attractive and that perhaps in another life you’d given him a chance, and maybe if he didn’t have a stick up his own ass and acted like the world revolved around him.

“Problems? Like what? Your only problem is you being an annoying little dog.” Okay, to an extent Yunho could see why you didn’t like him at all, considering all he did was rip into you and just make matters worse rather than at least try and be there for you. All your hatred and dislike for Yunho began just as he started to gain attention, because from the slightest attention his ego grew massive and it bothered you. The two of you had a little history, meeting one another through acquaintances and he was actually really cute, and you were attracted to him in more than one way. That was no longer the case. Now five years have passed and his attitude and ego was unbearable.

“Do you ever fucking shut up? Fuck off, Yunho. Seriously.”

“No.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to.”

All you could do was give him the biggest eye roll, you barely had any energy left to argue with this idiot in front of you, whining at how frustrated you were with him. “My boyfriend— ex, boyfriend. Cheated on me, so I beg you to leave me alone and let me drink in peace.” You had no intention on telling him that, but you prayed that he’d leave you alone and go home or fuck a girl or do whatever it is that he did. Instead he remained right there, pulling something out of his pocket. A ticket, a ticket to his upcoming show. He was absolutely unbelievable.

“You’re kidding me, right? Do you just carry those with you everywhere? I'm not going, I don’t like your music.” Which was a lie. You listened to his songs whilst getting ready, in the car, when laying in bed.

“Just come will you? And fuck your ex, hes a fucking idiot to let someone like you go, the prettiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” Yunho meant his words, and he definitely wanted you to attend his show, simply because you’ve never been to one before, and he desperately wanted to show himself off to you in another light. He had to hide the little smile which appeared on his face when you mentioned your ex cheated, he was out of the picture now which meant Yunho had a chance to win you over, and he was determined to.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t flutter a little when Yunho complimented you. It didn’t mean anything to you, well, you thought it didn’t. You chewed your bottom lip as you snatched the ticket and shoved it in your purse, perhaps it would be good to go, what else were you doing? Moping around that you got cheated on? Ridiculous.

“Whatever.. I’m going now.” Oh but getting up by yourself was a terrible idea, you slid off the barstool and stumbled as soon as you hit the ground, squinting as if it were to make a difference to your vision, but it didn’t. Suddenly you feel some long arms wrap around you tightly to hold you in place, you knew exactly who it belonged to as two large hands gripped the side of your arms. You were in no position to argue or say no, since you were pretty sure you’d black out soon enough, which you did.

The next thing you knew, it was the next morning, your head was ringing and you were in bed, at home.

Huh.

A week had passed since your drunken incident, you barely remembered it and still couldn’t put your finger on how you ended up at home in bed, surrounded by your pastel walls. Well, no point dwelling on it now. You were currently sitting upon your white little wooden vanity, gripping onto a curling iron and letting your hair fall as you let go. It was the day of Yunho’s show and you decided to go, why? Who knows. You didn’t even remember how you got around to getting the ticket, and why it happened to be in your purse. it was such a blur to you. A white lace dress with little pink bows at the shoulders was upon your body, the same dress you wore the night you two met for the first time. It wasn’t intentional, not by any means and that memory had slipped your mind. You thought it looked rejected sitting in the back of your closet, so why not wear it? You’d never wear anything to purposefully grab his attention anyway.

“Shit.” It was 5:30, which meant you were running a little later than originally planned— why does it matter though? He probably won’t even notice that you're there.

Dashing around your apartment you grabbed your ink coloured clutch bag which contained the ticket and a few other essentials of yours before grabbing your keys and checking yourself in the mirror by your door before going out to your car. Your phone automatically connected to the bluetooth system in your car and at that moment your phone began to ring, it was Wooyoung. The two of you had been friends since you were in diapers, literally. It was because of Wooyoung, that you met Yunho, unfortunately. What an idiot.Foot on the gas pedal and you were off, pressing the answer button upon the steering wheel.

“Hey Woo, I'm driving right now. What's up?”

“Where are you going? I wanna go out for food, meet me?”

“Ah.. about that, I’m actually going to Yunho’s show..” You’d wondered if he even heard you, because it went silent and you spoke quietly when saying that sentence. But he did hear you, loud and clear.

“YUNHO? I thought you hated him! Why are you going?! Tell me!” The male's voice was extremely loud, almost bursting your eardrums. You hated cutting him off— not true. But right now you didn’t have time to explain, you were practically speeding your way to the venue.

“I’ll tell you later, okay? I promise you. I gotta go.” Just like that, the line disconnected with the click of a button.

Arriving at the venue, you were faced with the largest queue you'd seen by far, sprawling out into the parking lot. The sight was a complete eyesore, however you were certain Yunho absolutely loved the sight.

Lucky for you, Yunho was kind enough to give you priority access tickets, so you could skip the queue. A good thing of course, being around all those fan girl’s would possibly lead you to have an aneurysm. And thankfully, they were seated tickets as you hated standing up and being surrounded by sweaty people, especially sweaty teenage girls and possibly grown women who’d just be screaming for Yunho. Your seat happened to be a balcony seat, and you were the only one there.

Yunho knew what he was doing, he would be able to see you perfectly from there, that's if you actually decided to come. He was nervous, so nervous in fact to go on stage and then be faced with the disappointment of you not being there. The man was infatuated by you and sometimes he really hated it, why you? Why did it have to be you? Either way, time was ticking and it was time to head to the stage. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Ever since he took you home last week, you were the only thing in his mind, day and night you flooded his brain, thoughts of you being fucked, the thoughts of you simply belonging to him. It was driving him insane.

The lights dimmed within the venue, and colors of red and white flashed on the stage, indicating that he was about to come out. For some reason that caused you to feel sick, a pit in your stomach. Why am I even here? I don’t even like him. Yet here you were, in a seat assigned especially for you. Not that you knew that, you had no idea how this ticket got into your possession in the first place.

A loud bang made the floor shake beneath you, startling you for sure. White and red confetti filled the room as Yunho was now on stage, seems as though he was standing on a lifting stage. You began to chew on your bottom lip anxiously, the crowd went wild as began with his first song. Whatever, he’s still an asshole.

Yunho’s ego was always boosted immensely as soon as he appeared on stage, hundreds of people screaming his name, posters and banners just for him. Absolutely perfect. But what was even more incredible, was the girl who appeared to hate him so much, was standing in the balcony he left just for you. The smirk which was painted on his lips was very evident as he pretty much groped the mic whilst his gaze met yours, he didn’t maintain it for long, but long enough to irritate her for sure. Honestly he didn’t expect you to come, especially because you were pretty drunk the night he gave you that ticket. Nevertheless, he was absolutely smitten. He’d watch how you’d rip your eyes from him every time your eyes met, he was absolutely loving this.

The cold breeze brushed against your face as you exited the venue, you were surprised with how you were able to stay the entire time, though there were many instances you wanted to storm out everytime you noticed the smug look on his face. You seriously couldn’t stand the man, but why was your heart fluttering if you hated him? Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought you did.

You watched as fans walked out of the venue, some with tears running down their faces and sobbing about how much they loved Yunho, which could only get an eye roll and scoff out of you, how ridiculous. You took some time before deciding to walk back to your car, enjoying the breeze and feeling of the night. You happened to park quite far, and the area was deserted pretty much. You were about to enter your car, when you froze.

“Y/n.” A voice called out to you, the same voice you had been hearing for the last three hours. Jeong Yunho. Did he follow you?

“Hi jackass.” You turned around to face him, his body a lot closer to yours than you expected it to be. Crossing your arms across your chest, you tilted your head at him.

“Thanks for coming, didn’t expect you to.” The man was going to attempt to have a decent and human conversation with you, however In that moment, Yunho realized what you were wearing, the expression upon his face was different from his usual smug look. It was desire, absolute filthy desire. Yunho became enamored by you that day you two met, and here you were, wearing the cute little dress which made him obsessed with you forever. Did you know? You did this on purpose, surely.

“Are you trying to just make me fucking crazy? you know what you're doing don’t you?” His body was inching closer to yours, making you press your back against your car door.

“What on earth are you talking about?” You were clueless, but you could feel your cheeks heat up as he got closer, gripping onto the bottom of your dress tightly. If you hated him so much, why the fuck were your panties getting soaked?

“That dress.. fuck y/n are you really that fucking dumb?”

“What d— oh crap.” How didn’t you realize? You were dumb, so fucking dumb. “So what? It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart was fucking racing, it definitely did mean something. How did you forget? He didn’t. He never forgot anything.

“It does to me, ever since I saw you in this dress that showed just enough for me to imagine you under me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Did you know that? You didn’t, because you’re a dumb little bitch.” Yunho didn’t intend on insulting you, but he knew she wasn’t bothered by that, a smirk painted his lips as he noticed your change in demeanor, your cheeks flushed pink, legs squeezing together.

“Yunho fuck y—“ But before you could continue, his large hand came to cup your jaw from underneath, whimpering under his touch. Who knew this asshole could turn you into a dumb slut just like that? Leaning into your ear, his hot breath made your body shudder.

“Shut up, shut the fuck up.” A growl from him before his lips crashed against yours ever so harshly, his tongue swiping your bottom lip, muffling the moans which threatened to escape your lips. Usually your first instinct would be to push him away but this time you couldn’t. His hands moved to grip onto your hips tightly as he pressed himself against you. You could feel how hard he already was just against you, making you soak your panties within just a couple minutes. You were out in the open, no one was around but the rush of knowing anyone could see you any second only made you more heated, your arms finally deciding to move and wrap around Yunho’s neck.

Yunho pulled away, dragging your bottom lip with him, biting on it as one of his hands slipped, letting it slide to your white lace panties, your cheeks turning scarlet red as you realized how soaked they really were, whimpering as he pushed them to the side. Fuck, a little touch was enough to send you to the sky.

“You always act like you hate me yet look at you, wet as shit like a dumb slut. My little baby.” He hissed, his tone a little mocking as two of his slender fingers entered your wet, sloppy, cunt. causing you to throw your head back against your car. He hadn’t even started yet. His fingers sliding in easily due to your arousal, pumping them in and out of you, abusing your tiny little cunt just as he always wanted. Your core was practically burning from the sensation of his fingers, they were pistoning inside you.

“Y-Yun..” You moaned out stupidly, he was only fucking you with his fingers and you could barely talk coherently. How pathetic? Yunho loved it though, he was waiting for this day for so long, to have your head so cloudy to the point you could only mumble his name, to be a mess on his fingers. A dream. Oh how beautiful you looked, your eyes rolling back, pressed against your car under the moonlight. Yunho’s brow cocked, tilting his head slightly and sinking his lips onto your neck, sucking and nibbling against your delicate porcelain skin, painting your skin purple, his tongue swiping his artwork once he was finished.

Yunho decided to insert another finger, watching you squirm was a delight to his eyes. The tent in his pants threatened to push past the fabric, perhaps even some precum already at the tip. He was desperate to fuck you, but he wanted to do it properly, and prep you of course before he took you home and absolutely destroyed you. Besides, the thrill of someone spotting him finger you senseless in the parking lot was a rush, especially to his hardening cock.

The sloppy and wet sounds coming from his fingers in your cunt was beautiful, filling the air. However as soon as he felt you tighten around his fingers he pulled them out, stuffing his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean, taking in your sweet taste. “You taste incredible whore. Though.. you think I'm gonna let you cum? The only time you get to do that is on my cock.” Once again, his mocking tone irritated you and you were beyond pissed that you were denied your orgasm. The man was edging you and you hated it, squeezing your thighs together.

“Fuck you Yunho.” You spat, huffing and crossing your arms across your chest. Yunho simply laughed in amusement at your reaction. “So are you gonna fuck me or what?” The sheer annoyance in your voice only made his cock twitch, he absolutely was infatuated by you, he loved your bitchyness.

“Im not done with you just yet, get in the backseat.” Happily you obliged, thinking he was going to slide his cock into you, you hobbled around into the back and laid down, he came in after you, closing the door and pressing himself down. Yunho teasingly grinded his hips against you so you could feel him, and fuck was he hard, you whined under him, groaning when he moved to slide your dress up and slide down your panties completely, shoving them in his pocket. Gotta keep a souvenir right? “Let me get another taste of you.”

You couldn't help but grumble, he was having so much fun and all you wanted was to be fucked into next week. But of course with Yunho that wasn't possible whatsoever. The man shuffled back and sunk his head down to meet your cunt, the sweet smell of your arousal allowed a soft moan to escape his lips before his tongue swept along your soaked folds, his hands gripping onto her skin, as his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked away, looking up to see her face scrunched up, her back ever so slightly arched. Yunho couldn’t get enough of her taste.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging on it as he sucked your clit softly, the moans parting from your mouth getting increasingly louder as he continued to swipe his tongue. You were well aware he’d deny another orgasam of yours, it wasn’t fair. The sensation was so different to what you'd experienced before from other partners. Yunho was definitely skilled. It only made you more eager to see how well he’d fuck you. The situation was quite bizarre. A week ago, you wouldnt of thought that you’d be lying in the backseat of your car having Yunho eat out your pussy.

Just like you predicted though, Yunho stopped as soon as you were close once again, being denied your second orgasm. “I fucking hate you.” You groaned, kicking his chest with your foot slightly as he scoffed.

“If you hated me so much, I wouldn’t be tasting you.”

“Fuck you.”

“You will sweetheart, just patience. Now, lets go home okay? I'm sure youre dying to cum.”

Yunho laughed as he left the back of the car and entered the front, he was in the drivers seat.

“Well? Come on. You can give me head as we drive.”

All you could do was roll your eyes as you shifted to the front seat, climbing your way forward and glared at him. “Im not doing it.”

“That's alright, my cock will be filling you up soon anyway.”

To be continued.

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lonewolfwriting89 · 1 year

Text

COVERT RAINFALL

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon snatched your wrist and pulled you into the shower with him, one hand covering your mouth while his body pressed yours into the corner and out of sight.

Warnings – NSFW. Smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is my first time venturing into/writing for another fandom. Hope you all enjoy - please be kind - lots of love xoxo

———

Glancing quickly to the left and right, you scurried across the sharp gravel, praying that no one would be watching in the dim, dusky light. With a quick half-shuffle, you quietly opened the door to the men's showers and slipped inside, thankful that only two cubicles were being used – and you knew one had to be his - Simon Riley - Ghost.

Sneaking down the short corridor, you prayed your footfalls wouldn't give you away, hopeful that the sound of gushing water would mask any noises you might inadvertently make. Your presence here was forbidden, and to get caught would surely end your military career. And if you were caught in his shower, it would mean the end of not one career, but two.

However, after five long months of trembling at the sound of his deep, gravelly voice and aching for the feel of those rough hands to touch your body, you had decided to take matters into your own hands.

You spotted the distinctive stripes of his towel at the opposite end of the unit from where another bundle of possessions lay. Oh, how many times you had laid in your bed and stroked yourself, imagining that same towel being wrapped around his hips, envying it being lucky enough to dry those rivulets of water from his sculpted body.

Slipping out of your t-shirt and shorts, you quickly pushed them under his pile of clothes, before pulling back the edge of the shower curtain to slip inside. You stood there, one foot raised to step over the ledge, naked and vulnerable, your breath frozen in your chest.

Your lieutenant was standing there under the sporadic pulse of the spray, head down, water pounding the back of his neck, dog tags softly jingling under the force of water. Your eyes followed that cascading water down his tall, broad body, your mouth drying at the delicious picture being burned into your memory.

The cessation of water from the other cubicle, most likely Soap, made your inadvertent gasp of pleasure audible, and Ghost’s head snapped upright, his deep murky eyes nailing you in place as they travelled leisurely down the length of your exposed body. At the sound of the other curtain being slid aside and recognising the danger of you being caught out in the open, Simon snatched your wrist and pulled you into the shower with him, one hand covering your mouth while his body pressed yours into the corner and out of sight.

Tense with the fear of discovery, you listened as MacTavish collected his things, humming loudly to himself, and you both heaved a sigh of relief at hearing the door shut behind him. Your lieutenant glared down at you, the water dripping off his nose doing nothing to lessen the fire in his eyes.

"What the fuck d’ya think you're doing?", he hissed, crowding you back even tighter into the corner. At almost 6”3’ he towered over you, making you shrink further.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I just--", you got no further before his voice sliced through yours, deadly sharp, a tone you’d only heard him use in the most dire of circumstances.

"Spit it out Y/N, I don't have all damn day”.

You closed your eyes, mortified, and wished the floor would open up under you, or that you would somehow miraculously fit down the drain. Far from pleasuring this man, as had been your intentions, you had obviously blown any possible chance you could ever have with him. Fighting back tears of humiliation, you pushed against his shoulders, averting your eyes from the wrath in his, silently begging him to just let you go.

Snarling his displeasure, Ghost grabbed your forearms and shoved you back in the corner, taking no notice of the wet hair flopping into your eyes. Effortlessly lifting you up, he tried to force you to look directly at him but you ducked your head, trying desperately to hide those tears, but there was nowhere to go. Your cheeks burning, you trembled against him, the forgotten water still pouring over you both in a lukewarm caress.

With your eyes clenched tight, you could feel the force of his burning gaze, but it was a shock when he wrapped both arms around you, hauling you up against him and ravaging you with the deepest, darkest kiss you could have imagined. Tipped with rage, tinted with fear and full of frustration, it buckled your knees and made you sag against his hard body, shock and ecstasy coursing through you in equal measures. Running your hands up his tattooed arms, over his shoulders and down his water-slicked back, you pressed against him, your tongue tangling with his as you shared ragged, panting breaths.

Ripping your mouth from his, you struggled to breathe, fighting the silvery dots swimming around your vision. Fisting his hand in your hair, he pressed his body closer to yours and plastered his lips to yours again. Moaning, you slid your hands up the plane of his solid back, caressing each bold bulge of muscle, simultaneously lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. Your knee slammed against the side of the cubicle with a loud bang, and cursed under your breath, trying to shift into a different position. You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his shoulders and rubbing the tips of your nails through his damp, dark blonde hair and banged an elbow on the wall so hard your fingertips tingled.

Every time you tried to shift, tried to wrap yourself around him, you ended up making more noise, noise which was ill-afforded given your location. You whined in frustration, mewling your displeasure at being unable to get closer to him.

"Slow down love”, he murmured against your lips.

The sound of his voice soothed you instantly, your mind automatically obeying the higher-ranking soldier, while your body instantly reacted to the velvet roughness of Simon’s command. With a soft sigh, you melted against him, gasping in pleasure as his kisses gentled; nipping little tastes of your lips, sexy, sweeping strokes of his tongue. You pressed yourself tight against him, feeling the water pool between your breasts and his broad chest, feeling the tight grip of his hand squeezing water from your hair to drip down your back, following the arch of your spine and curling over his fingers, splayed low on your back.

With a groan, he pulled away, burying his face in the soft curve of your neck, shudders wracking his body. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him.

"We shouldn't be doing this”, he finally murmured, so softly you almost missed it, "We can’t do this…If we get caught…”.

"Simon...”, you murmured, caressing his back with your hands, trying your best to soothe him. You could feel his unease, and it echoed some of your own. Sliding your hands to his jaw, you lifted his head, locking your eyes with his, feeling an overwhelming urge of pride at been trusted enough to see his face, “I've ached for you for the five months we've been here…I’ve thought about you so many times”, you closed your eyes and laid your head back against the shower wall, your voice a broken whisper, "Please, lieutenant…please give me this”. You hoped using his title would spur him on.

Pressing against you, Simon let you feel his response, "I’ve wanted this for so long”, he murmured huskily, eyes closed, "I know it's wrong, you're under my command and I shouldn't do this—but I can't help it. I tried not to. God, I tried not to”.

His eyes opened and he smirked at you, roguish and handsome, that made your knees weak, “You have no idea how many cold showers I've taken, right here in this cubicle”.

"Probably about as many as I have over in the women's shower unit”, you said, caressing his cheek, a flush turning your face crimson.

"Fuck”, his pleasure in that mental image vibrated along your nerves, making you arch and gasp, rubbing your breasts against his chest. His breath hissed at the evidence of your own arousal, your nipples like diamonds scraping across his chest.

"C'mere”, he moaned, cupping your head and angling his lips to yours. Licking the beads of water from the soft curve of your lips, he teased and nibbled his way inside, stroke after stroke of his talented tongue making you dizzy with desire. Stroking his fingers through the wet, heavy length of your hair, you were soon gasping in pleasure and writhing against him, loving these kisses but wanting more.

Ghost twisted you around so that you were directly under the shower spray, you quivered in pure pleasure. The length of his warm body pressing against you, the feel of the cooling water cascading over you in a liquid caress, the sound of his ragged breath in your ear, the tactile explorations his hands were making over your body...all of it combined to give you a rush of pleasure like you’d never felt before. While the water poured over your head you lifted your lips to his and offered yourself to him completely, his name rolling off your lips in a tuneless chant as your body shook in euphoric bliss. Simon moaned, throbbing against your stomach.

His fingers stroked your cheek, your bright gaze met his dark, midnight stare. You trembled at the fire there, a fire that you knew matched your own. A fire you had only dreamt about, hoped to see.

Lifting your arms, he curled your wrists over the shower-head and tipped your head back until the water was streaming against your forehead and along the curve of your scalp, almost like a lover's caress. Cupping one hand over your hip and caressing the length of your body with the other, he admonished you not to move, tightening his fingers into your skin whenever you dared disobey.

Then, with a skill and style that set you aflame, Simon proceeded to claim every inch of your body as his, tasting you with his lips, lavishing you with his tongue, nipping you with his teeth, until your mind became a hazy mess. From his husky whispers in your ear as he nipped your earlobe, to his careful attention to the full swells of your breasts, he set every nerve screaming for release, bursting with pleasure.

Slowly, softly he nuzzled your breasts, starting at the upper slope and curling around to the underside in ever-narrowing circles that had you babbling incoherently for him to take you. When your hips rocked against him, pressing your heat to his cock, his fingers tightened on your hip, reminding you to be still. When you tried to lift your head from the teasing spray, shivers coursed through you at the added slickness of water to your skin-on-skin caresses, Simon wrapped a hand in the ends of your hair and tugged, reminding you of your position.

Finally Simon’s hot mouth enveloped your throbbing nipple after countless minutes of purely sinful attention everywhere but where you wanted it. You exploded in ecstasy and your thrashing body was rewarded with a sharp slap to your ass, reminding you that you had been told not to move.

Lifting his head from your breasts, Ghost released your swollen nipple with a swift, curling lick that made your toes curl in pleasure, before snarling at you that you had been ordered to stay still. Pinned in place by the fierceness of his scowl, you tipped your head back and closed your eyes. You quivered in both longing and dread, reminding yourself that any punishment was worth the pleasure of having this man as your lover.

Standing up straight, he kissed your eyelids, a light, gentle pressure that made you ache. He reached up and slowly disentangled your wrists from the shower-head brace, softly sliding his fingers along the undersides of your arms before closing his hands around your ribs and lifting you up, only to turn and set you back down. A quick adjustment of the shower-head had it pointing directly at your aching, throbbing breasts, wringing a low moan of pleasure from you. With your eyes closed, the sensation of water flowing over you nearly brought you to your knees, but it was the first touch of his mouth against your soft, pussy that had them buckling for real.

Only the sheer strength of his arms supported you up, as Simon slowly stroked his tongue over you, broad and flat on the outer lips, then curling and stiff for a slow sweep along your wet slit. Whenever his tongue rubbed over your clit, he'd curl it up and flick over it, faster and faster, before capturing it between his teeth and tugging gently. Your legs clamped around his head, hands grasping for anything to hold onto, as you shrieked his name at the top of your lungs, gushing all over his face, coating him in your pleasure.

Letting go of your hip with one hand, he took advantage of your orgasm and pushed his thick fingers up inside your core, spreading them out to stretch you, preparing your pussy for his thick cock. With each motion of his invading fingers into the depths of your spasming pussy, each flicker of that wonderfully talented tongue against your throbbing clit, you came over his face again, mewling his name loudly enduring the over stimulating ecstasy.

Surging to his feet, hands holding your hips to steady your shaking, dazed body, he slid you out from under the water's spray and pushed you down to your knees, his hand gently tipping your head back. With a low moan Simon tipped his own head back, stroking the swollen length of his cock, and released thick spurts of cum all over you.

Opening your mouth you caught what you could, but much of his release landed in your hair and on your cheeks, dripping down onto your chest. Rivulets of cum sliding down to coat your nipples before dripping off the hardened tips. You scooped the falling droplets into your hands and eagerly licked your fingers clean, reveling in the sweet, tangy taste of his cum.

Panting for breath, Simon leaned down to help you up off the shower floor, but halfway up his objective changed, and suddenly his hands were back in your hair, his mouth devouring yours, your tongues tangling as you slipped and slid your way up the wall, nails catching at his back, scratching him. As his tongue duelled with yours and you shared the taste of each other on your lips, he hissed in a pleasured pain, the sound peaking your nipples.

Nipping at his lower lip, you purposely scraped your nails across his back again, feeling the skin give way. Growling low in his throat, he yanked your head back, exposing your throat. Careful not to leave a mark too high for you to hide, he ravished you, bruising you from shoulder to collarbone, nipping at your neck he dared not mar. As he sucked and bit at your delicate skin, you trembled, wanting desperately to bear some mark of his possession, as he would now bear the scars of yours.

Finally you could take no more, and grasping his head, you pulled his lips back to yours. The little balance you’d found in the slippery shower was destroyed, and you tumbled out into the dressing area, barely catching yourselves before crashing into the bench where Simon’s clothes were still piled, yours tucked safely beneath them.

Pushing your shoulders back against the bench, he straddled your hips, still hard, rubbing himself against the soft skin of your stomach. Uncaring of the dangers of being caught like this, you were completely focused on each other to the exclusion of anything and everything else. You slipped your hands between you both, stroking him against you, feeling the head of his cock brush against the underside of your breast with each long caress. His head tipped back as his hands gripped your shoulders, your fingers caressing him, stroking his hard, throbbing length. Scooting down a little, you slid him into the valley between your breasts, moaning at the feel of his hot flesh pressed between your breasts. Squeezing them together, you completely encased him, shifting your hips to gently rock him up and down.

Leaning down, he pulled out of your hold, and cupping your jaw, pulled you up to kiss you. In your mind, you could see how you must have looked, your wildly curling hair tumbling over the back of the bench, lips locked with his, your arms braced on his shoulders, hands gently cupping his head and holding him to you, his arms wrapped around you, curling you up close. Opening your eyes and smiling softly into his, you lifted your hand and softly traced the barest fingertip over the sweet curve of his lips, feeling the tingles still shooting through you from your prolonged, deeply sensual kisses. His stubble tickled the sensitive tip. Swinging a leg over you, he smoothly reversed your positions, until with a gasp of surprised pleasure, you found yourself straddling his hips. Your splayed pussy was sliding along the length of his hot, hard, throbbing cock, making you ache for him to fill you.

Playfully he rubbed against you, teasing you. The swollen lips of your pussy slickly caressed him, and each brush of his cockhead over your swollen clit made you jump in pleasure. Leaning forward you kissed his head, his ear, his eyebrow. Wherever you could reach, you branded him with your lips. Ever so gently, he raised you up and then slowly lowered you down onto his swollen, eager cock. Simon’s shoulders were now supported by the bench, his rough hands clenched against your shoulder blades as you arched in pleasure, gasping as he stretched you.

As you had made your marks on his back, he now made his inside of you, making sure that you fit him, and only him. Lower, ever lower he guided you, until finally you could feel his balls pressing against the softness of your pussy. Gasping at the mix of pleasure-pain from being stretched like this, his name trembled from your lips as your pussy clenched around him, that rhythmic internal caress signalling yet another orgasm given you.

As you trembled and shook your way through euphoria, he never moved, forcing himself to just sit there and ride out the waves of your pleasure, watching you as you gave yourself over to pure sensation. Knowing that Simon was watching you, compounding your pleasure. You arched your back, rising and falling on his cock, catching glimpses of his possessive smile through the haze of passion fogging your eyes. Every slightest movement set off another round of fireworks in your stomach, and you drenched him with another wave of your slick. You were insatiable for him, and loving every second of it.

After what seemed like hours' worth of continuous pleasure, he tightened his hands on you, slowing your rocking motion, easing you to a halt. He held you as you quieted, stroking you from nape to knee, touching a trembling thumb to your lips, stroking the pads of his fingers over your cheek, sliding the backs of those long, strong fingers over the soft curve of your shoulder. Linking his fingers with yours, he lifted your joined hands and softly kissed your fingertips. At the romantic gesture, your heart melted, sending a wave of scorching heat through your body. You hummed happily, bliss taking over you.

"Love”, he murmured, tugging you down to him and kissing you passionately, reasserting his claim over you at the same time that he offered himself up to you. Your hands shook as you held his head, your nails lightly scoring his rugged skin, sending shivers along his length and making his fingers clench where they held you to him.

You leaned forward, rocking gently, causing your hardened nipples to scrape over his chest in a way that made your own breath stumble. Putting your moist, swollen lips to his ear, you whispered, "You feel so good".

Before you could even take your next breath, he had swung you around so that you were now leaning over the bench, knees spread wide, open and available and his for the taking. Fisting his hand in your tangled locks, he tugged your head back, arching you into a fully submissive angle, your breasts thrusting outward as your neck lay exposed and vulnerable to his teeth and lips.

He growled as he slid the hard, hot, full length of his cock deep inside of you, nestling it into that spot he'd created, that he'd claimed, that he owned. Your arms shook as you struggled to hold this position. Your nipples pebbled as he pounded into your pussy, whispering commands in your ear, pinching and tugging you with his free hand, but never letting go of your hair, keeping you arched back and wide open.

Using your slick that was freely running down over his length, he pulled back just enough to slip the head of his cock against your ass. As you whimpered in protest, he surged against you, curling around you and swallowing your scream, claiming you. Crushing your head between his fist and lips, he devoured you, quivering with each cry that poured from your lips, trembling as he listened to your passion, stroking you as you soared through yet another peak. Holding you tight, you both found release, groaning each other’s names.

Slowly, carefully slipping out of you, he rested on his heels, pulling you back into his arms, holding you tight. You felt so protected, so cherished as one hand curled around your waist and the other crossed between your heaving breasts to softly stroke the skin of your neck, caressing the pulse beat still pounding through you. You lifted your arms and held him to you, tipping your head to kiss the curve of his smile, touching your lips to the corner of his mouth and sighing softly in pleasure.

"I guess we better get going, before someone walks in”, Simon said, softly stroking you with his calloused hands, “But I don't want to…I can't get enough of you".

"Nor I, you", your voice rasped in his ear.

Feeling you tremble, he encircled your waist and lifted you up onto the bench, spinning you around to face him. Kneeling between your splayed thighs, he reached up and brushed a wild curl out of your eyes.

"We'll figure it out", he whispered, “I promise”.

———

#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley smut #Simon ghost Riley x reader #simon riley x reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader insert #simon riley x you

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emeritusemeritus · 6 months

Text

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley Twins x Reader]

Part 11

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship} mentions of Snape x Reader.

Timeline: DH1&2- Initially set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. On it got a angsty. So much angst I can’t tag it all. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

Only a few more chapters left to go now. This one hurt my Severus loving heart🖤

It's cold and dark in your mind but your body feels like it's on fire, trapped in an inferno that won't end. You'd scream if you could but you're trapped, rendered silent and frozen as your insides blaze without reprieve. Your suffering continues though you fight through it, ploughing on even with a pain-clouded mind and blurry vision as the blood continues to pour from your body.

You try and focus your eyes upon your opponent, forcing yourself to look harder and be stronger, using what little power you have left to continue to fight.

Nagini is hissing wildly, her huge, thick body roiling on the floor as if she's under the cruciatus curse, pain consuming her. There's a sound emitting from her that sounds ungodly, a mixture between a hiss and a scream that makes you feel as if your own throat is burning through the awful sound. Her body vibrates, continuing to convulse on the floor and you take a moment to back away, stumbling backwards as you slide across the floor, not realising until that moment that you'd fallen to your knees. The sharp rubble slices at your hands but you don't feel it, your mind screaming at you knowing you needed to get a safe distance away.

You fix your wand upon the multiple, horrifying gashes in Nagini's body, leaking both blood and black liquid which had mixed together to form the most grotesque sight you could fathom. The skin around her wounds was quickly turning black and your consciousness was fading in and out though you fought to pull every ounce of strength from yourself to focus. Taking steadying breaths, you think of Severus, the dear friend you had lost, feeling more than ever that you needed him right now.

"Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera Sanentur."

You drag your wand across her skin, watching at the lines on her body heal but not completely. It draws the black liquid out of her slowly, like pulling an invisible thread out and you watch in relief as the wounds begin to lose their black hue.

You were weak, much weaker than you hoped to be and you knew with little consolation that you might not be able to get out of this, your own blood still dripping onto the floor by your feet. Your eyes were closing on their own accord, exhaustion overcoming you no matter how hard you fought.

You dragged your wand over your own skin now, trying desperately to stop the blood flow, seeing the black venom infecting the deep gashes on your arm. The incantation was weak but you managed to draw the black venom out of your arm, just. The wounds were far from closed but the blood flow had slowed and that was all you could do.

It hadn't worked. Nagini was still a snake, not the woman you'd had seen in your mind; nothing you had done had worked. You forced yourself in your last moments to think of your boyfriends, their infectious laughter and gorgeous smiles. A loop of memories played in your mind, a montage of favourite moments together throughout the years. The first time you met, the first kisses, the last kisses and everything in between. They had each other, you reasoned, feeling a slither of peace at that very fact, knowing that whatever happened to you, they wouldn't be alone.

Your eyes briefly opened again upon hearing a haunting sound, a hissing that only increases with volume and intensity, immediately causing you to enter an internal fight or flight reaction though your body was still paralysed with exhaustion. Your mind takes a few moments to realise exactly what is happening as you register the figures of two people nearby, their outlines becoming clearer with each passing moment as your vision cleared, though you couldn't hold your eyes open for long.

Ron and Hermione.

You were encased around the large, wrapped trunk of Nagini's body, though you felt no pressure on your limbs, no constriction. The snake was wildly hissing at Ron and Hermione who were trying to approach you with horrified eyes, their wands fixed upon the snake with conviction. She was protecting you.

"Ron no! If you miss, you'll hit y/n!" Hermione wailes, tugging on his arm which had his wand aimed at Nagini. He looked furious, more angry than you'd ever seen him, a look in his eyes which showed he was out for revenge. The snake hisses in fury at Ron, sensing his intentions and gives a warning snap of it's head, showing the vicious fangs to warn them away. You can only see the side profile but even from your limited view, the blood covered fangs and healed but visible gashes across her body were a terror inducing sight.

Closing your eyes, you tried to connect to Nagini, finding nothing in the darkness behind your eyes. You're exhausted, both mentally and physically but you push harder, searching deeper and further in your mind for any sign of the snake, but there's nothing, the connection had been broken.

You open your eyes, feeling it easier now as the light no longer hurts your eyes, finding strength in the knowledge that something had changed, something must have worked.

You shift slightly, attempting to think of ways to get out of Nagini's hold and almost instantly she senses your movement. You reach blindly for your wand but feel nothing, preparing yourself for the imminent attack, but nothing comes. Instead, she unfurls herself from around you and with one last vicious hiss in Ron and Hermione's direction, she turns to you, watching you carefully as she peels her body away from yours, shifting to lie between you and your friends. You don't break her gaze, eyeing her carefully with the knowledge that she might attack the second you looked away.

You look into her eyes and see the woman staring back at you in your mind, looking frightened and lost, her eyes drawing you in. You feel compelled to explain, though she may not understand and there's no denying that the truth could cause her to attack, the uncertain nature of the serpentine creature only making you more afraid.

"You know don't you, what needs to be done," you say gently, still looking into her eyes. She continues to look at you and there's a momentary pause that passes where she doesn't respond in anyway, making you feel foolish for trying to communicate with the snake. She suddenly shifts her head and you immediately throw up your hand to stop Ron from moving forward as he prepares to lurch towards you, wand still aimed at the snake threateningly, his grip so tight you can see that his fingers have turned white. Her head slowly nods, though it's minuscule in movement.

There's a brief flash of embarrassment you feel at connecting this way with a creature but you sense that she can understand you completely.

"If there was another way," you begin to say but the rest of the words catch in your throat. Truthfully, you didn't know any other way of how to save her, of how to kill the Horcrux inside her without her perishing. Her head sinks to the floor, near your leg and suddenly she doesn't feel like a threat anymore. You sit there for some time, not knowing how to proceed, feeling like you'd reached an impasse.

All it took was a large bang out in the courtyard for the temporary armistice to be broken. Ron ran to the main doors just around the corner to look at what had caused the crash and he looked horrified as he explained with difficulty that Harry and Voldemort were duelling. It had to be now.

You turned to Nagini and noticed almost instantly how her demeanour had changed, her eyes no longer conveying any of the sadness or understanding, but instead looked cold and hardened. Her body had tensed and her tail had curled into her body tighter, all signs of alarming defensiveness. You understood immediately; the Horcrux within her was sensing her master only metres away. She could sense his danger, the treat to his life, which meant that the Horcrux within her, the slither of Voldemort's soul was also in danger.

Time seemed to slow as you realised too late the danger you were in, your proximity to the seemingly possessed snake putting you in imminent peril, especially without a wand. You ran, scrambling away until you backed up towards the wall, looking for some way of hiding, dragging Hermione with you so that she would be safe. It was like the predator in her had awoken, the last semblance of humanity drained from her mind as her body tenses, her body stiffening as she prepared to attack. You were defenceless and Hermione only had mere seconds to adjust to you throwing her back, as Ron leapt forward to protect her before Nagini lunged.

You watched at the snake flew through the air, her mouth wide open and blood soaked mouth hurtling towards you with an unstoppable force. You force yourself to think of your beloved boyfriends a s of your lost friend, desperately clinging to the love you'd received throughout your life as you waited for the attack.

But no pain came. Your eyes had closed on their own accord and you opened them tentatively to see a billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air, clearing slowly to show the figure of Neville, bloodied and panting hard, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands. He'd done it, the very last Horcrux was dead.

Ron and Hermione held on to each other for the longest time, the near death experience pulling them closer together. You looked at Neville and leapt to your feet, throwing your arms around him. He stumbled briefly having not anticipated your embrace but held strong, wrapping his spare arm around you as you hugged him in both celebration and appreciation.

Then, you saw the translucent figure of a woman before you . It was the very same woman you'd seen in your mind, through the connection with Nagini. She was beautiful, the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin looked vibrant once again. The spirit's connection was brief, lingering just long enough for her to nod once at you, bowing her hair before she disappeared. You had done it, her spirit had been freed. The spell, your blood, mixed with hers and the venom really had worked.

You turned to Hermione and Ron, pulling away from Neville and found them to be staring at the exact spot where she hovered only moments ago, clearly having seen exactly what you had.

"Harry."

That one word prompted you all to run around the corridor and out into the courtyard, reminded that Harry was duelling the dark Lord with no assistance. You expected to see a myriad of lights and colour, the two powerful figures mid combat as each opponent fought for what they thought was right. Instead, you found Harry alone, stood in the crumbled courtyard clutching both his wand and the elder wand, staring down at the mythical hallow in amazement. He'd done it. He'd won. You'd all won.

Ron and Hermione ran towards him, embracing with triumphant glory, each of them pleased to be alive after facing their opponent head on. Neville fist bumped the air in celebration and limped quickly off back towards the main building, no doubt alerting the others that Voldemort had been defeated.

You stood alone, feeling suddenly overcome with emotions that you hadn't anticipated, conflicted to your very core. You felt a massive surge of relief of course, wanting nothing more than to celebrate alongside the trio and everyone else. But you felt sad and a little lost. You felt for everyone that had lost their lives in the battle, the damage that had been caused, for little teddy who had lost both of his loving parents in a single night and for Severus, who had died in your arms, a spoil of war.

But then you remembered the tear. The memory he had given you in his last moments. You looked upon the trio once more, seeing them rightfully still embracing and celebrating their win and with one last glance, you slipped back inside the castle and walked straight towards the headmasters office before anyone could stop you. You couldn't wait to get back to Fred and George, to be wrapped in their arms and back with everyone you loved, no longer having to feel fear or doom but this had to be done first, you needed answers and closure from the only person that could give you that.

Approaching the gargoyle staircase, you thought of that night so long ago when you'd slipped in to the castle and confronted Severus about George's injury. You thought of your anger, your resentment and your confusion that your friend and mentor could have done this to the man you loved, particularly as you approached the main doors, remembering how you had barged in the last time.

The office was largely undamaged, with only a few books and glass cases smashed on the floor from the attack. The pensieve pulled out automatically s you stepped further into the room, crossing the threshold with a nervous trepidation that made you pause, pulling the vial out of your pocket and holding it out with shaky hands.

You poured in the tear and watched as it swirled down, a bright white cloud of billowing smoke within the water, drawing you in. You took a deep breath and submerged your face into the tepid water, watching as the cloud parted and dispersed, forming into figures that you recognised immediately. Severus and Dumbledore. They were in the very office your body was suspended in, Dumbledore sat at his desk with Severus stood before him, attempting to walk out.

"Don't ignore me, Severus," Dumbledore says, causing the potions master to pause in the doorway. "We both know Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But should he fail, one should presume the dark Lord will turn to you."

Severus stands resolute, looking upon Dumbledore with a blank expression. "You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It's the only way. Only then will the dark Lord trust you completely."

You watch as Snape's face drops subtly, his eyes expressing a hesitancy and pain that is almost palpable. The vision flickers and you see Snape shushing Harry in what you know to be the astronomy tower before the image of Dumbledore's falling body briefly flickers across your vision, the killing curse uttered by Snape ringing in your ears. The vision then flickers back to their meeting in the office, Dumbledore's weak and tired eyes imploring Severus.

"There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something. But you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable."

"Must be told what?" Severus' deep baritone voice calls out, a frustration and element of concern in his tone.

The vision suddenly changes again and you watch as Severus enters the broken house you'd recognised from your trip to Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve. You watched as he walked across the debris covered landing and caught sight of Lily dead on the floor, the infant Harry wailing in his cot only yards away.

"On the night Lord Voldemort went to Godric's Hollow to kill Harry, and Lily Potter cast herself between them, the curse rebounded."

You can feel the affection he felt for Lily with the sound of her name, and then the devastation and pain at discovering her body on the floor in the nursery. It's gut wrenching and crippling to feel everything he felt and you now understood that he had loved her, he had loved Lily Potter.

"When that happened, a part of Voldemort's soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find, Harry himself." Dumbledore has begun walking down the platform steps in his office, his legs weak and his frame looking frailer than ever as you see his blackened hand, the curse from a Horcrux.

"There's a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There's a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort's mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him."

"So when the time comes," Severus says, squinting at Albus who has reared closer to him now, the tension in the room growing increasingly denser and thick. "The boy must die?"

"Yes."

"You've kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment," Severus accuses, his tone suddenly much harsher, "you've been raising him like a pig for slaughter."

"Don't tell me now you've grown to care for the boy?"

Then you see him look out of the window, the darkness in the sky only further proof that this was conversation had late at night, in complete secrecy. You watch as Severus casts the patronus charm and a familiar glowing doe whips around the room before exiting through the glass, the illuminated spot fading as it disappears further into the sky.

"And y/n, you have grown to care for her too?" Albus asks. You watch as Severus becomes instantly more defensive, his eyes squinting and mouth opening before closing rather harshly, his chest puffing.

"That is none of your concern," he answers in a deadpan way, his eyes averted to a spot on the wall where the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hangs.

"But Severus it is, do you not see that she is involved?"

Snape's head whips round quicker than a flash until he's staring back into Albus' eyes with a fierce glare, though beneath the stare is concern and worry.

Flashes of yourself appear in Snape's memory, a strange thing to have seen memories you yourself had but from the other perspective. You see yourself in your sixth year, singled out in his vision as he watches you work, creating a batch of what you remember to be Sleeping Draught in class. The next memory shows the following week, your meeting in his office, seeing you smile and laugh as his deep chuckle fills your ears. You see as different memories merge together of you working together, annotating his books and transcribing his notes, the visions of you shifting to memories you had never known, of Severus watching you and glancing at you when you weren't paying attention. You can feel a warmth again to these memories, feeling the affection he felt for you, as if you were able to experience it exactly how he had, much like the memories of Lily.

"You said that you would protect her! You said by making her my apprentice it would shield her from his notice!"

"The dark Lord may be unaware of her prowess but I fear her connection to the Weasley's will have attracted the attention of her peers." There's a flash of you, Fred and George sat in the great hall from Snape's perspective at the top table, he sees you laughing and resting your head on Fred's shoulder, though the memory is brief.

"There's little I can do, Severus. They will need her," Albus says with conviction.

The memory shifts again before your eyes and you see Severus sat alone in his office, his corporeal patronus dancing wildly around the room as he binds together pieces of what you recognise to be the Lebetum, the misted glass opened as he summons the doe inside. He thinks of you, your laughter playing like a melody in your own ears and there's a brief moment where you can smell the scent of your hair as you watch the words 'Expecto Dominum Meum' appear across the black device just as you had experienced many times before.

There's a brief memory that flashes and you watch as Severus pulls a book from his bookshelf in what you assume to be his home, followed by him using the book as a glossary as he translates his words whilst writing. The next memory cuts in of you receiving the book from him, his deep voice speaking over the memory that you will need this to translate and transcribe his newest paper, handing you the book of Latin phrases and texts.

"You love her," Albus' voice cuts through and you watch as Dumbledore and Snape are stood on a cliff top somewhere, the exchange between the pair is rife with tension.

"Yes," he says, his deep voice speaking matter of factly.

"You've protected her all you can," Albus says, perhaps slightly gentler now.

"It's not enough," he says, his black sleeved arms wrapping around himself, turning to look out into the distance. You know he's thinking about you, and of Lily, the two women he felt he'd lost, slipping between their fingertips. "It will never be enough." He reaches into his pocket and thrusts the black device of his own creation that he'd pulled from within the folds of his cloak into the older man's wrinkled hands, who gapes at it for a moment, a frown pulling between his eyebrows.

"Severus, you can't possibly," Albus begins speaking but he's cut off when Snape looks up from the Lebetum with an expression you had so often seen, the fixed, harsh stare that told whomever he was speaking to that he would answer no questions nor explain further, his word absolute.

"Until my heart stops beating. With hope, even after."

The memory fades and the smoke like memory disappears into the water until it's no longer visible. You pull out of the water and sink to your knees, sitting on the bottom stone step of the desk platform, gathering your thoughts.

You sobbed uncontrollably, chest and shoulders heaving with the effort as you let every bit of pain consume you, every emotion you'd tried to hold back from the moment you left Bill's wedding and everyone behind in your hunt for the Horcruxes, realising that you had been played like a pawn in a game of wizards chess. You cried for your lost friend, knowing now that he loved you. You cried for everything that could have been, for how he'd protected you the whole way through without knowing, for the pain you felt at being so close but so far away from Fred and George, for the months spent pining for them, for the horrors you'd seen and what you'd been through.

You gasped for breath between your sobs, clutching your arms around yourself as you rocked gently, feeling entirely consumed by pain. You should feel victorious and triumphant, celebrating with everyone else in the castle but you couldn't face it, not when you felt so far away from yourself.

Your thoughts were consumed with Severus and what you'd seen in his memories and you wondered if you'd loved him too. You loved Fred and George, that was evident to everyone around you and to yourself but you'd never considered the piece of your heart that had remained with Severus, realising much too late that you had loved him too. Maybe not in the same way that you did the twins but it was undeniable that there was something there much stronger than friendship alone.

Your sobs had subsided eventually and you sat on the cold stone with a vacant expression, gaze fixed upon an uninteresting spot on the floor. You felt drained in every sense of the word; your mind was slowly going blank, unable to string two solid thoughts together as the mental and emotional strain took its toll on you. Your body felt weak and broken, pain and soreness now evident in your injured body, feeling the full effects of your shoulder injury and the cuts on your arm. You look down at the deep gashes on your arm and begin to slowly peel your jacket away, cringing and wincing as the dried blood around the cuts rips away having connected your jacket to the broken skin.

You cast a healing spell on the cuts but it's weak, knowing that you couldn't perform the correct incantation as much as you wanted to, your body too exhausted and drained. You pondered, just for a moment, the irony of the cuts on your arm. The spell created by your mentor intended to inflict pain for those he hated, but instead inflicted upon the woman he loved to free her from her torment.

You sat for a while thinking of the memories he'd shown you, realising now that all his words had made sense. He'd asked you to forgive him, telling you that one day you'd understand. He'd protected you when you needed it most, provided you with his own guardian in the form of a patronus and saved your life multiple times even from afar. He'd given you all the clues, the biggest of all being the book of Latin phrases, somehow knowing that it would be the key to surviving, putting his faith in your ability to decode it. He'd loved you. He was never a true destheater but had been the bravest man alive to act as a spy for the order, for the sake of everyone who seemingly hated him.

One thing had always bothered you, once singular piece of knowledge that had plagued you since the moment you'd been bequeathed with the Lebetum.

You stood slowly, throwing your jacket back over you to cover the scars and the wounds that littered your body and dusted yourself off, though it was a pointless effort as your clothes and skin were still stained with Severus' blood. You stepped towards the littering of books on the bookcase and tried to find the off-white leather book amongst the rows of text, hoping it was there. It wasn't. It was, however, laid on the desk, already open.

You searched through the glossary of words, alphabetically listed as you turned to the section you needed.

Lebetem, or Lebetum (noun) translates to Cauldron. A large metal pot used for brewing potions over an open fire. Can also refer to a situation characterised by strong emotions.

You felt gobsmacked by the revelation, realising that it was most likely a joke played by Severus, a little twist of humour he'd integrated in the the situation.

You then thought of the translation Mr Ollivander had given you of the text on the device, Expecto Dominum Meum, and his little chuckle when you explained that it was a Lebetum, realising now that it all made sense. He’d recognised you as Snape’s apprentice and had only chuckled when he pieced it all together.

Lebetum, Cauldron, a necessity of brewing potions.

Expecto Dominum Meum, I await my master.

I await my potions master.

You laughed out loud; an honest and very real laugh that you felt hadn't happened in such a long time. You'd been blind to it all this time, his intricacies never failing to amuse and astound you. You felt an immense sense of gratitude erupt from you and though you were naturally devastated that he was no longer here, nor were you able to thank him for everything he'd done, the Lebetum had done the trick to make you feel a little better, giving you humour in a time of sheer upset.

You wanted a shower desperately, a hot cup of tea and the comfort of your loved ones around you. You looked down at the book of Latin translations and smiled, touching your hand to the old pages before you walked away, feeling calmed.

You closed the doors to the office as you exited, casting one last glance at the intricacy of the wood and walked down the staircase, back towards the great hall where you hoped everyone was still gathered.

Bill spotted you first and leapt up from his seat to close the distance between you, pulling you into his chest. The unlikely friendship you'd forged during your time at shell cottage was entirely unexpected but welcome, his ability to make you feel at ease and protected was unparalleled, his role of big brother extending to you.

"Stop scaring me like that," he mutters and you can hear the slight smirk in his voice, making you chuckle. "Told you you were tough, wouldn't find me dead near a snake." You chuckle again and start to snark that Werewolves were fine but not snakes, but you're stopped as you see two near identical and very welcome faces waiting anxiously behind Bill. You pull apart, giving him one last smile before he slips back to sit beside Fleur at the table, allowing you to properly reunite with his brothers.

There's a singular beat that passes where you stand still, looking at them with a trepidation to your gaze. You felt guilty for leaving them alone, to fight your own battles without considering theirs. They both looked disheveled and dirty, eyes dark and tired and for the first time that night you no longer thought of your own exhaustion or torment.

Fred moves first and pulls you in for the tightest embrace he'd ever given, his hand holding your waist close to his body and his left hand cradling your head. He kisses you without abandon, uncaring and unashamed of anyone nearby as your emotion pours into the kiss, a thousand apologies and comforting words said silently between you. A tear falls from your left eye, overwhelmed by your official reconnection but he doesn't miss it, moving his thumb to swipe it away as he pulls his lips away from yours reluctantly, savouring the feel of your lips against his.

"I love you so much," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he begins to rock you gently side to side. "You're never leaving again, you hear me? I can't ever be apart from you again." Another tear slips at his words and all you can do is nod in agreement, blindsided by the emotion and conviction of his words.

"Never again," you reply, reaching out to grab the material of his jacket, feeling as if he'd slip away if you let go. He senses this and presses one last kiss to your lips before pulling away and stepping aside, allowing George to scoop you up.

Fred and George were different in many ways but it was never more obvious to you than when you were in their arms. George always seemed taller somehow, your head not reaching as far up onto his shoulder as it did with Fred but it was equally as comforting to be pressed into the centre of his chest. His arms caged you and held you tightly, shoulders and breasts smushed against the hard plains of his body but you didn't care.

"Tell me it's over, Angel, please don't leave again."

His voice sounds broken and like a little boys, lost and afraid, a sound that breaks your heart. You pull away firmly, looking up into his gorgeous face.

"I'm staying right here, forever," you say, reaching up to touch his cheek as you lean up, making it clear that you want a kiss. He obliges immediately and kisses you with a passion and intensity you hadn't quite anticipated. His hand find yours and he holds on to you tightly, one large hand grabbed around your back as your right hand stays on his face.

Once the kiss ends, Fred steps back to join you both as both twins grab for you, your small frame between their much larger once's making you feel safe and secure. Eventually you are pulled away by Molly who can't wait any longer and you're smothered by her fussing until Arthur pulls her away with a knowing smile before he embraces you. Each person embraces you as you're passed around the group, feeling every ounce of love they give.

There's a moment where you and Harry look at each other before you embrace, a wordless question about your shared connections to darkness. You shake your head with a smile, telling him that your connection had been severed and he nods his head with the same mirrored look, both of you smiling widely as you realise that it was now just you, no longer plagued by another's emotions or memories. You throw your arms around his neck, both laughing as you finally feel the celebratory mood everyone else felt, now that you were back with the people you loved.

Ginny brought you a hot cup of tea from one of the little reserves that had been set up and you thanked her kindly, taking a seat in between Fred and George, in your rightful place. Instantly, their arms lock you into place with George's arm extending around your back and Fred's large hand covering your thigh, keeping you anchored to them. Everyone was laughing and joking, telling their own stories and as you looked around at your loved ones, though missing one important person; you felt happy.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

The Grey Zone 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, age gap, bullying, toxic parental figures, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your parents has never been good, and that with a family friend takes a strange turn(goth!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm tired of being sick

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

You prefer the opening shift. Finishing early gives you extra motivation to make use of the rest of the day. Yet that morning is slogging by like wet sand. You still have an hour left before you’re free and even then, you have hours of studying to catch up on.

You enjoy your work, short of the occasional unpleasant customer. The shop is slow despite its location in the mall, but that’s expected with its niche catalogue. The New Age collection often attracts curious eyes but few purchases. The candles and jewelry sell most often, more marketable to those in the market for a gift or ‘just looking’.

You lean on the counter, doodling with a pen on a strip of receipt paper. Little stars and a crescent moon. The mall is starting to get busier as lunchtime approaches. You twirl the pen and look up, only realising then that you have a customer.

You drop the pen and quickly flit around the counter. It’s a good thing the manager is only in on evening shift. You approach the man perusing the bucket of discount crystals and slow as you recognise the back of his slicked hair. Really?

“Mr. Hansen?” You sputter in surprise.

He turns and smiles at you, a stone in his hand, “hey, little lamb,” he greets coolly, “fancy meeting you here.” You squint as he laughs at your cynical stare, “sarcasm,” he scoffs.

“Oh, uh,” you go to cross your arms but resists, instead hooking your thumbs into the chains attached to your black cargo pants, “are you looking for something?”

“Besides you,” he winks as he drops the stone back in the bucket, “they don’t have the hair gel I like at Carmine’s. Apparently they don’t manufacture that scent anymore. So I was wandering around and I just stumbled in.”

You nod and watch him reach into the bucket and pull out a small shard of lapus lazuli, “you got any Carnelian?”

“Carnelian?” You furrow your brow, “uh, I don’t know. Probably not in there…”

You turn and stride over to the shelf of labeled stones; those ones with a better natural shape or cut. You search the tags and find a small canister of orangish red stones, smooth and ovular; some opaque and few with patches of translucence.

Lloyd stops beside you, close. Too close. He tends to do that. He crowds you in without realising it. You hold out the container.

“You like crystals?” You ask with an edge of doubt; you didn’t expect he would be into that sort of thing.

“Eh, I’m intrigued,” he takes the canister and examines it, “you know, after you showed me your cards, I was reading around. It’s kinda neat, this stuff. You know, I don’t really buy into the mystic shit but it’s fun.”

“Ah,” you nod. Most people have that opinion. It doesn’t bother you. You’re more pragmatic than dreamy. You accept that you have no control over the world, but you don’t believe there’s any force around that does.

“You got cards here?” He shakes the crystals as he lifts his chin.

“Uh, yeah, just over there,” you point to the other wall.

You back away and go back to the counter. You just need some space. In such a small shop, it’s easy to feel suffocated. He goes to the shelf of tarot cards and you languish in the silence of his perusal.

“There a difference between these things?” He asks.

“No, not really. Just the look.”

“Ah,” he accepts and spins on his heel. He approaches the other side of the counter and places down his purchases. The crystals and a deck of cards with a Roman mythology aesthetic. “Just these.”

You ring him through and he plays with the necklaces on the small rack next to the till. He tilts his head as he examines a piece of amethyst attached to black cord. He lets it dangle and reaches into his back pocket. He presents his card and you pass over the machine.

“When are you done?” He asks.

“Um, in an hour,” you answer.

“Hmm,” he nods as the machine accepts the transaction, “got the whole day ahead of you.”

“Kinda,” you wait for the printer, “want a receipt?”

He shakes his head, smiling at you. You take out a small black bag and put his things inside, sliding it over to him. As he takes it, his hands brush yours.

“Don’t work too hard,” he says.

“Er, sure, thanks,” you eke out awkwardly, “have a good day.”

“Going well so far,” he smirks before he turns away and struts to the door.

He looks back and you raise your brows at him, perturbed. He finally leaves and you let out a breath. You wonder if he knew you worked there or if it’s as deliberate as it seems.

You take out your phone and lean on the counter as you key in Carnelian. You don’t know much about the stone and you can’t remember anyone ever asking about it. You nearly choke as you read the description; ‘Carnelian is great for increasing sexual energy…’

Is he trying to embarrass you? Your mind lists to a couple nights before when he sat on your bed. It all seems a bit much, a bit too calculated. You just can’t find the punchline to go with the set up.

🖤

Meghan shows up to take over for the afternoon. You leave her, intent on your mission. You’ll get your matcha to go and head to the library for your study session. Studying at the cafe had proven too distracting last time.

You get in line, flicking through your phone as you shift with the bodies ahead of you. You hear a rabble behind you as a large group enters, clustering at the end of the queue. You tuck your phone away as you recognise a voice and keep your chin down. You shrink down, hoping to go unnoticed in the busy cafe.

“Oh, look who’s back again,” Shania guffaws, “it’s the dead girl.”

You don’t look back. You have as much right to be here as them. You don’t know why she’s so pressed. There are other coffee shops and no reason for her to associate with you. High school is over. This isn’t the cafeteria, there is no cool table.

“Hey, Morticia,” Kaliana comes up on your left-side, “thanks for saving us a spot.”

They try to push in ahead of you but you step up, blocking them. You keep your head straight as Shania jostles you from the other side. At least this time you don't have anything for them to dump on you.

“Don’t be uncool, face paint,” Shania snarls, “know your place.”

“Go away,” you mutter to your boots.

“I can’t hear you over all that metal,” she reaches out and tugs on your nose ring. “Speak up, little girl.”

“I don’t know how you breathe around that snot catcher,” Kaliana chortles.

You shake your head and cross your arms. You step back and wave to the space in front of you, “fine. Go ahead.”

They girls laugh. They sound like hyenas. As they go to step in front of you, Shania cries out and liquid splashes over her shoulders, dripping down the front of her baby pink crop top. She puts her hands up and turns to face the culprit.

“You loser–” She yipes.

“Didn’t see ya,” Mr. Hansen’s voice brings your eyes up, “watch where you’re walking.”

“What? Me? You–”

“Look, I don’t need some knock off barbie shrieking at me so zip it,” he spits.

“Excuse you! You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I can and I am,” he snickers.

“Ew, you creep, get out of here,” Kaliana steps up next to Shania, “No one wants to hear from you or your dirty porn stache–”

“I didn’t ask, pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” She sniffs.

“Flip, flap,” he motions to his chest with a mean smirk, “if you’re gonna go out in a shirt like that, you could at least put a few socks in your bra.”

“Ugh, you perv–”

“Trust me, you’re the last thing that makes my dick hard,” he curls his lip.

“Whatever,” Shania blusters as she pulls the wet fabric away from her chest, “Kal, let’s go.”

The girls stomp off and you stare after them. Hansen puts down the empty cup and chortles. He turns to stand parallel to you, “well, I don’t know who’s drink that was but I hope they don’t mind.”

“What?”

“Oops,” he shrugs, “so what are we drinking, babe? Hmm. You seem like you got a sweet tooth. White mocha? Caramel?”

“Uh, no–”

“Wait, wait, dark chocolate, that seems more your speed.” You shoot him a look and he meets your eyes. He smiles and tilts his head, “kidding.”

“I can get my own drink,” you insist.

“I’m sure you can, but I want to get it for you.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He repeats.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’re not answering me,” you sigh and move up to the counter.

“I don’t know, you make me wanna do nice things,” he says and faces the barista, “black coffee and whatever she wants.”

You hesitate but take your cue. You order your matcha latte and he taps his card. You clamp your lips together. Does he think you’re pathetic? That you need him to pay for a tea?

You go to wait by the order window and sway impatiently. You grip the strap of your bag and stare out into the mall. Hansen leans into you, brushing his arm against you.

“So, couple of bitches, huh?” He says.

“What?” You whip around to face him.

“Those girls.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We went to school together…”

“Figured,” he shakes his head, “they’re only jealous. Girls like that, they don’t know how to feel anything else. Always a competition.”

“Hm, I guess.”

“Not like you.”

You glance at him then to the counter. You just want to get your tea and leave. You tap your fingers on the strap of your bag.

“So, the lake house,” he changes the subject, “what do you think?”

“Uh, dunno,” you watch the barista at the steaming espresso machine, “dad didn’t say anything.”

“I’m not asking about dad. You ever been to the lake?”

“Which lake?”

He chuckles, “now who’s not answering who?”

You shrug and cross your arm over your chest, rubbing your shoulder. Your order is up. Before you can move, Hansen puts his hand on your lower back, ushering you with him to grab his cup as you claim your own.

You pull away from him as you leave the shop. He keeps pace with you as you try to figure out a way to nicely get rid of him. You didn’t expect to run into him twice. How reappearance convinces you it’s less than coincidental, but would he really wait around the mall just to bother you?

“I should go study…” you say at last.

“Study. Boring,” he comments.

“Maybe but… I have to.”

“Oh, do you always do the right thing?” He prompts.

You don’t know how to answer. You turn the hot cup in your hand as you walk along the mall corridor.

“No, I don’t know, I…”

“A good girl like you, always doing what you should but never what you want to do,” he says, “did you ever even ask yourself what you want?”

“I.. I don’t know what you mean.”

“You want to what? Study boring books? Get a boring degree? Get a boring job?” He continues, “all so one day you can live in a boring house with a boring husband? And have boring kids?”

“I– I never… I’m just going to school.”

“Because? Because you never thought of doing anything else. Of anything fun. I’m fun, sweetheart.”

You blow across the lid of your tea and taste it. It’s good but you find it hard to enjoy. Not with him there. Not with your mind racing.

“I like being boring,” you say at last.

He snorts, “sure you do. You're whole look screams boring. Well, let me know when you’re really bored, sweetheart. I’ll give you everything you never knew you wanted.”

You peek over at him. His eyes are on you, his cheek dimples. He raises his cup in a toasting gesture and turns on his heel.

“I’ll be waiting,” he tosses over his shoulder.

You stop and watch his smooth gait. His confidence is almost intimidating. It’s as if he knows things you don’t. You turn away and continue towards the south entrance. Boring is just fine, boring is safe.

🖤

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Your father’s voice carries through the wall.

“Ah, don’t you get fucking rude with me,” your mother slurs back, “fuck you, Ray. Fuck you!”

It’s not unusual. You’ve heard the same argument over and over. It doesn’t matter what starts it, it’s always the same. They yell until they’re hoarse, they slam doors, and in the morning, they act like nothing happened at all.

You put your earbuds in and turn up your music. You know how to tune them out. If you’re good at anything, it’s at shutting out the world around you.

You lay down and close your eyes, holding your phone against your stomach as you mouth the lyrics. You just want to fall asleep but the anxiety of knowing they’re fighting keeps you awake. You just need to wait it out.

Your phone buzzes but you ignore it. It’s probably just an email or another notification trying to make you spend money. You focus on the layers of the music; the strings, the percussion, the vocals. Your phone goes off again.

You raise it and open your eyes, the screen fuzzy as your eyes adjust to the darkness. You tap the speech bubble that signifies a new message. The number is private.

‘Getting packed?’ The message reads. You have no idea what it means. You send back, ‘wrong number’. Three dots pop up immediately.

‘No it’s not.’ The answer comes swiftly. You return a question mark and nothing else.

‘You’re going to need a good jacket for the lake house.’

You rub your forehead and sit up. You key in, ‘Mr. Hansen?’

‘The one and only.’ He confirms. How did he get your number? ‘If you don’t have one, we can take a shopping trip.’

You don’t get it. What does he want from you? You know the way he is, you’ve heard the way he talks about other people, you hear the stuff he says to your dad. Their friendship at most is acrimonious. Is this a ploy against your father?

‘I have a jacket. I’m sleeping. Good night.’

You lay down and turn onto your side, keeping the ear bud from slipping out as you put your phone beside your pillow. It lights up with a new message. You close your eyes. You lay in the storm of your nerves. You have to check. You reach for your phone and read the screen.

‘No you’re not’.

You don’t understand. How would he know? He’s bluffing. You won’t entertain his little games, he’s just messing with you. Just like everyone else.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the grey zone #the gray man #series #au

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

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

Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces.

Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.

Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)

A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged <;3

"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"

“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.”

Fuck.

“Lo’ak… be serious.”

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes.

You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words.

“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”

His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently.

“But it is you. It has to be you.”

“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.”

You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self.

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.”

Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side.

Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his.

His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened.

“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.

“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.”

“What’s Cornelia Street?”

“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.”

A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed.

You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right.

“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”

Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.

“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice.

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.”

Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it.

“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”

Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win.

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”

“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.”

Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish.

“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”

He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.”

“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.”

Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was.

He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew.

“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?”

“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.”

“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response.

You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway.

You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go.

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse.

“You should leave, Neteyam.”

You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing.

“No.”

You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?”

He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing.

You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you.

“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you.

You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission.

He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to.

He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long.

“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.”

Fuck.

Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply.

“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.”

You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention.

“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.”

Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died.

His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.

“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”

You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools.

“We need to talk, properly talk.”

You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away.

You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.

There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first.

“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise.

You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye.

Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you.

“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.”

Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly.

Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself.

“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake.

“How long?” Neteyam asked.

“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared.

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep.

“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”

You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond.

The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers.

You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time.

“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that.

“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm.

“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look.

You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue.

When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness.

Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.

You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours.

You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day.

Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in.

“I think you should be taking a break from this.”

“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”

“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.”

You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went.

“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”

You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod.

It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime.

You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life.

“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.

Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?

Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently.

Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did.

“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”

You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi.

You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”

Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own.

“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”

“Did you tell her yet?”

“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”

Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.

“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.”

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.”

Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”

“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.”

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”

“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”

Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.”

You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped.

“He told you.”

“Yeah…”

“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”

“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.”

“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”

You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.

You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric.

Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair.

“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.”

You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.

“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.”

You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed.

The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far.

It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle.

You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims.

As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed.

He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry.

“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage.

Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest.

“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest.

As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.

“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face.

You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins.

“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.”

You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute.

“Ok then, let’s dance.”

Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.

He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done.

You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support.

Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs.

He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.

“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying.

You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight.

These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it.

“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”

The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids.

As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm.

“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.”

He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.

“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”

You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further.

“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”

He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained.

“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it.

“Yes, please.”

You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore.

“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there.

“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled.

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.”

It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces.

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