#my vengeance knows no bounds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theostrophywife · 9 months

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shut up kiss me.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.

author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭

Theodore. Fucking. Nott.

Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.

You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.

“Where the hell is he?”

He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”

“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”

The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”

The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.

“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”

“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”

Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”

Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.

You were going to kill him.

“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”

You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.

“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”

Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”

Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”

“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”

“Just hear him out, okay?”

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”

“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”

“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”

“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”

You huffed. “That makes two of us.”

The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.

“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”

“For what?”

“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”

“He deserved it.”

“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”

Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”

“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”

His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”

Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”

You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”

When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.

“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”

The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.

“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”

You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.

“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.

“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”

“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”

“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”

You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.

“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”

The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.

For crying in front of your worst enemy.

The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.

“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”

Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”

You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”

He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.

“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”

You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”

Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”

Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”

The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.

“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”

Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”

The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.

“Because you never told me, you idiot!”

“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”

You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.

“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”

Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.

“Because at least you were thinking of me.”

You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.

Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”

He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.

“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”

“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”

Because at least you were thinking of me.

It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.

“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”

Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”

You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.

So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.

“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.

“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”

Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.

“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”

He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.

Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.

If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.

It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.

Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.

You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.

“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”

Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.

Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.

He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.

“Need some help, love?”

You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.

Then he fucking moaned.

It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”

“What is it, Theo?”

“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”

“What are you saying, Theo?”

“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”

You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”

“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”

“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”

He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.

You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.

“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”

He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”

You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”

“Everything about you turns me on.”

“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”

“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”

You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.

“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”

“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”

“I bet you are, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”

He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”

Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.

On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”

“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”

“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”

Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”

“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”

He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”

You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”

“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”

“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”

“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”

“Yes ma'am.”

taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468

please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#double feature cause i have no self control baby #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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tmntaucompetition · 4 months

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List of all AUs that got into the preliminary round!!

Snapdragon - bluesgras

But First They Must Catch You - mudlarkspur (+ao3)

Sorry I’m Late - GeminiForest

Lone Turtle and Hunter - midnightcreator12 (+ao3)

Happily Ever After - Phykoha

Kendratello Childhood AU - zeawesomeness

The Mutation Situation - Indieyuuugre

Quilt AU - Cokowee

I’m sorry teenage mutant what now? - tangledinink

Good Genes - lordshroom

Twin-Sync (More than you Think) - little-banjo-frog

Mama’s Boys - honey_rye

Warrior’s Heart - peanutrat20

Rabbit’s Broach - pigeonsgrame2

UPRISING: A Rise Dystopia AU - alexthenerdbird

Down with the Stockholm - devotedtosadpoetry

Broken Trifecta - genderfluid-envy

TMNT Chicago Style - its-captain-sir

Tiz Sep AU - Tizline

Please Don’t Leave I Need You - TownFowl (ao3)

Sewer Punks - kettle-bird

Grown Apart - Chiscribbs

Leaves from the Vine - Cheetochild989

TMNT Shen and the League of Lesbians - genderfluid-envy

The Unicorn paradox - Mushangaa

Snapper Lou AU - Kittynomore

Sep Leo AU - dianagj-art

The Rise Hunger Games AU - daboyau

Honor Bound - terrazooid

Universes - XxLea_nardoxX

Minecraft Isekai - Songdrop/Caleb at calebscornerofart

Raised by the Capybara AU - Rubies-tmnt-aus

Dee-Evolution AU - cnwolf-brainrot

Welcome to Mutinis - mutiniau

Portal Baby - QuarterGremlins

Wouldn’t It Be Easier - 14Muffinz (+ao3)

Twinpathy - twinpathy

Live Life - centerofleesmind

August’s AU - star-sparkler

No Fun in Fungus - boots-with-the-fur-club

At my Worst - teainthesnow (+ao3)

Ktech - dontfindmeimscared

Camp Hamato - P0t3n1al

Even more of a Disaster - 3lectricinsomnia and teaableu (main blog evenmoreofadisaster)

No Crime only Brooches - Olliethescribe (+ao3)

DNAngel - blye-flower

Finding home - sad-leon

Causa scienta - urlocalllama (ao3)

TMNT 04 - koolaidashley

Is this right? - cruitly-ink

Turtles all the way down - pommigranite

Firefight au - remedyturtles (remrose - ao3)

Death wish - remedyturtles (remrose - ao3)

Ghost AU - Melliedoodles

Mama’s Wishes - Bucketofbugz

Forgive Me - reagi-df

Eclipse - G0LD_Tea (Twitter)

Magic AU - vaudeville-moggie

Mitosis - Varian_dislikes_cheese (ao3)

Vengeance is yours - that-one-dork (+ao3)

The likeness of mirrored souls - enthblaze and omgselinabeckendorf

The employees - theemployees

Hello, Clairvoyant? - cogentsummonor (ao3)

Sidelined au - Dandylovesturtles

100 feet and a world away - Dandylovesturtles

Villain leo - Villianleoau

Bloom from oblivion - Aliteraladhdmess

Soulmates (evil) - error-core-animations (Oofiescreams - ao3)

The somber sunrise - Mocha_Mochaccino (ao3)

Snapdonnie - onejellyfishplease

Ōnryo leo - aquariumgirls (ao3)

Lost in the pink mist - lost-in-the-pink-mist

The Lonely Buzz in Blue - overthinkingbluesparks (+ao3)

The Blood Orange Multiverse - Jade-Clementine (Mylenapony11 + Cherry-blossom-consumer)

Teenage turtle ninja mutants - idiot-mushroom

Revelations Timeline AU - idk_im_just_here_now (ao3)

Two Souls - virgilsspidey (+ao3)

(Please let me know if there’s a duplicate or a creator spelled wrong!)

#mod shadow says #tmnt au bracket #I guess yet again

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boxofbonesfic · 10 months

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Title: Brave [2 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: As you begin to acclimate to life in the pack, your new leader seems to take a keen interest in your ability to survive.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this next piece! mind the warnings ❤️

You run your tongue across your chapped lips before reaching for the skin of water hanging from a long strap across your shoulder. The liquid inside is over-warm from the sun hanging mercilessly overhead, but you are grateful for it still.

Where are we even going?

The river had been days ago—three, perhaps four at your best estimation—and the pack had been pushing on ever since, riding out into the grass sea further than you had ever thought possible. When you had asked, your father had told you simply that there was nothing out there, his breath stinking of ale as he reminded you to keep your mind to your housework, else he would ensure you found out for yourself. And now, for all the fates cruel humor, you had found out anyway.

You had been spared death at the river, but the same luck that had kept you breathing now also bound you to the blue-eyed-orc and his pack. You had tried twice already to sneak away in the darkness, only to find yourself practically nose to nose with your captor, his eyes bright even in the dark.

Dangerous out there in the dark, Sweetmeat, he’d said, turning you around with one huge hand on your shoulder, tapping the flat of his blade against your backside as your cheeks flamed with hot anger and embarrassment. If you’re looking to raise an army for vengeance, you should ride in daylight. Even now, your face heats with anger. You had no intention of riding to the capital to raise the alarm—even if you knew how to get there, you doubt anyone would care for the fate of a tiny village in the borderlands.

You slip dangerously in the saddle, yelping as you grab for the reins, righting yourself. You had never ridden a horse before now, much preferring to watch the huge beasts from afar rather than subject yourself to them up close. The stallion beneath you seems to know it, tossing his head irritatedly as you pull back haphazardly.

“I’m afraid the saddle is too big for you.” The voice startles you, and you almost slip down out of the saddle again as you whirl to look at its source. Mirthful blue eyes meet your own. “We shall have to find you a smaller one.”

You glare at him, your mouth stubbornly shut.

“Oh come now. Are you still angry about last night?” He makes no effort to hide his amusement. You keep your jaw locked, refusing to answer—which only serves to amuse him further. Finally, your ire loosens your tongue.

“You would have killed me three days ago,” you bite out through gritted teeth. “And left my corpse in the dirt.”

“Aye,” he answers, cocking his head. “Yet I did not.” Somehow, this enrages you even more.

“You hunted the others for sport—” You half choke on the words. “You ran them down like dogs.”

“What use is a lame horse, Sweetmeat?” He asks. “Or a dog that won’t hunt?” There is no derision in his words, only indifference. “I cannot ask my riders to carry that burden.”

“So you kill them.”

“Aye.” You see reflected in his eyes the same cool apathy a wild dog might give a rabbit. “Would you ask a wolf to apologize for feeding its strongest cubs, Little One?” You bristle, but he continues before you can speak. “Perhaps because it is removed from you, you do not see it. But I have seen it. I have seen your great cities of men, and the bodies that line the ditches of their streets. There is death for them everywhere.” You want to deny the truth of his words, but they settle on your skin like oil. “Better a quick death by my steel than a slow one beneath the heel of the man you call King.”

He stops his horse, and you mirror him, watching the orc warily.

“If you wish to return to it, you’ve my blessing to do so, Sweetmeat. May you go and die in whichever way seems best to you.”

You are overcome with the urge to dig your heels into the stallion’s sides and take off, to cut through the swaying sea of grass like a clean blade—but you hesitate.

Your life in the village had been one of little note and much misery; tending to your father as he sickened himself with either too much ale or for the want of it as the days ground on and on. You’d felt little sorrow at his passing, considering he’d blacked your eye only three days prior. There were, no doubt, several villagers that had escaped on horses of their own, racing back toward the mountain to warn others of the orc-pack roaming the borderlands. You suppose you could rejoin them—the same people who had watched as your father’s druken rages consumed him and done nothing to help you.

Your skin prickles with distaste.

“No?” He asks after a lengthy silence. “Then let us ride on.”

You watch sullenly as he takes his place at the front of the group, the other riders falling into a loose line behind him.

—

No one offers to help you as you struggle down from your horse when they break to make camp, and you drop unceremoniously to the ground. For the most part, the rest of the pack ignores you completely, regarding you with the same indifference one might pay a rock as they go about setting up their bedrolls and hobbling the horses. They dwarf you as you all line up to fill your water skins, and the one with chestnut hair—-the blue-eyed-one had called him Buck—narrows his eyes at you.

“What’d you do to earn water today?” He sneers. “Get to the back. We’ll see if we have any left for you.” You dig your heels in gritting your teeth despite your fear. The protestation is there on your tongue, but before you can voice it, someone else speaks instead.

“Give her the water, Bucky.” The blue-eyed-orc rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, she will do nothing but slow us down and rob us of our food, our water—”

“Calm, Bucky.” He holds up a hand. “The human will hunt tomorrow, and tomorrow she will earn it. Tonight, give her the water.” For a moment there is tension between them, a charged current you can’t see, but it soon breaks. Reluctantly, Bucky fills your water skin, shoving it into your hands with a grimace.

“It was fine to give her Roth’s horse—he fell, he’s got no need for it now,�� Bucky spits irritatedly. “But Tarrath’s a fortnight’s ride from here. She’s going to need to earn her water.” He frowns at you. “Like the rest of us.” Steve nods his understanding.

“Aye. She will. Consider it half my portion.”

Angrily, you shuffle back over to your horse and begin unstrapping your bed-roll from its back. Nothing has been said outright, but you sleep away from the others, setting your roll up at the edge of camp. You know you aren’t welcome. You know you shouldn’t care at all for your usefulness, but you aren’t sure you’d fare any better wandering the grass sea alone. Your horse—Roth’s horse—stares down at you judgmentally while you wind the length of rope around his front legs, and you frown deeper.

“Even the blasted horse,” you mutter, kicking aside a few loose rocks as you lay down the roll beside him. You don’t know how to hunt—it wasn’t as if your father had taught you, and you doubt he had the knowledge to do so in the first place. There is large bow strapped to the saddle, thus far untouched by you, and gently you undo the bindings. It is heavier than it looks, and you hold it aloft clumsily, the string biting hard into your fingers as you struggle to draw it back.

“You won’t catch anything like that.”

You don’t turn to look at him.

“You didn’t have to give me your water. Steve.” He chuckles at the sound of his name on your lips.

“I won’t be doing it again, Sweetmeat. So you’d better learn how to use that thing.” This time you do turn. He is closer than you anticipated, and you squeak with surprise as he plucks the bow from your hands with ease. “Hold it up, like this.” He draws the string back, the muscles rippling across his bare chest. “This is the sight, here, this notch.” He runs his thumb over the place where the arrow head will sit. “Come.”

When you don’t move, he grips your hands firmly, winding them around the bow.

“Like this, put your hand here.” His hand curls over yours, covering it completely. You’re practically trembling when he pulls away, your palms sweaty against the lacquered wood. “One last piece of advice, Sweetmeat.”

“What?”

“Don’t miss.”

to be continued

#chris evans #chris evans fandom #chris evans fanfiction #cevans fandom #cevans fic #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #boxofbonesfic #bones drabbles #Orc Au #Brave fic

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 1 year

Text

Let It Hurt (Pt 2)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader (afab)

Summary: Steve has been your best friend for years despite his douchery in early high school. You would tell him anything... well, anything except for the fact that you've been feeling his physical pain since elementary school. The way he finds out is less than ideal. But he's been keeping secrets of his own...

Word Count: 5.2k (I went nuts lol)

Warnings/Tags: Soulmate au (kinda), language, no use of (y/n), depictions of severe pain, depictions of torture, injuries mentioned, crying, kind of a breakdown, angst, a period is mentioned so reader is afab, set in season 3, soulmates to lovers, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort (yes there's eventually comfort this time, I promise)

A/N: GOOD GOD Y'ALL I did not expect the last one to absolutely blow up. I've gained like an extra 100 followers from all this so thank you so much. I wouldn't have written something so loved if I hadn't gotten a request. If you have an idea you wanna entrust me to write, don't hesitate to jump in my asks! I love hearing from people. (p.s. angst is my favorite to write) Now here's your part 2!

Part 1: Right Here!

You awoke to echoes of screaming. You didn't want to open your eyes, the light in the room behind your eyelids was already making your head throb with a vengeance.

"Help!! Someone, help!" Robin's desperate voice rang out, the sound bouncing off the walls and judding into your skull. It was then you realized you were sat up, straps compressing your legs, arms, and chest. You were bound even more than before.

"Hey, would you stop yellin'?" You heard Steve's voice grumble behind you.

It took you a moment to register it was him, but when you did, a small light of hope lit up in your chest. You lifted your head up slightly, trying to take in a breath. The pain in your head stemmed down your neck now. In fact, it encapsulated your entire skull.

"Steve! Oh my god," Robin exclaimed, still a bit too loud for your taste.

"Steve?" You croaked out.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, you're both awake," She chuckled slightly, simply out of disbelief. "Both awake. Um, are- are you okay?"

You shook your head no as if she could see from where she sat behind you.

Steve took in a breath. "My ears are ringing, I can't really breathe, and my eye feels like it's about to pop out of my skull…"

"That checks out," You muttered, not intending for anyone to hear. Nobody seemed to.

"But you know, apart from that… I'm doing pretty good." He finished, his nose sounding stuffy. They really liked hitting his nose.

Robin let out a breath. "Alright, well, the good news is they're calling a doctor for you both."

There was a moment of silence before Steve registered her words. "Both?" You felt him turn slightly in your direction. "They hurt you?"

"No," You quickly replied.

"Wait, I thought-"

"Robin, shush," You snapped too loud, making your head throb again.

It was silent once more as Robin connected the dots. Steve didn't know, and you didn't want him to know. "Right, no, I meant… I meant just for you Steve."

"They didn't hurt me," You tried to reinforce. "Robin's just… tired."

"Oh." He uttered, clearly confused.

"Hey, guys," Robin changed the subject. "I have an idea. Steve, you see that table to your right?"

You felt Steve turn his head to your side.

"No, your other right."

"Oh," Steve looked the other way. Apparently the table was behind where you sat.

"You see those scissors?"

"Uh-huh."

"I think if we moved at the same time, we could move over there, I could maybe kick the table, and knock them into my lap."

You snorted, turning your head in her direction. "They left scissors in here with us?"

"What morons," Steve laughed. He was definitely letting on that he was doing better than he felt.

At the count of three, you all scooched in unison, Steve and Robin to their side, you backwards. Just as you finally were seeing some light at the end of the tunnel, only a mere few feet from the table, you all over shot your momentum. All together as a unit, the chairs slid out from under you and you all fell to the floor with a hefty clank of the chairs.

At first you groaned, but then a grin slowly spread across your face. "Shit," You giggled with no choice but to look up at the ceiling as you laid on your back. This was all insane. Absolutely insane.

Robin was obviously feeling the same as she began giggling as well. She shook under you, small squeaks bubbling from her.

"You- You guys okay?" Steve asked, clearly not gathering what could be so funny to you both.

"This is fucking ridiculous," You half suppressed a laugh.

You felt Robin nodding. "I can't believe I'm gonna die in a secret Russian base in a sailor costume." You could hear the smile on her face, jovial despite the situation. The comment only made you laugh harder.

Just as your giggles died down, the door burst open once again and men flooded the room. Your giddy moods were cut short, instantly replaced with terror. Over you now stood a man in uniform, obviously some sort of high ranking official, probably the man in charge. He towered over you, shaking his head and tutting.

"You wake up too, eh? Good," He smirked, looking over the predicament you three had gotten yourselves into. "Where did you think you were going?"

He gestured with his hand, motioning the men in the room to lift you all back upright in your chairs.

"P-please-" You nearly whimpered when sat back up, nothing on your mind but to simply beg. What for, you weren't sure yet, but you were scared and desperate.

"Let us try again," The man said, ignoring your plea. Slowly, he circled around you all, like a predator observing prey, before making it back around to Steve.

Your eyes followed the man as he brought his hand up and thumbed Steve's busted lip. Not only did it elicit a wince from Steve, but you as well.

Your stomach dropped as soon as it happened, making you quickly turn your head away from the man hoping he didn't notice. However, the tingling on your neck told you he had, and he was staring right at you.

"Don't touch him," You breathed. It came out a lot less menacing than you intended.

The man hummed, standing up straight again and murmured something in Russian to one of the men. You watched as the guard walked over to Steve, grabbing him by the hair and raising a fist.

"Wait, stop!" You jolted, fighting against your restraints.

Steve struggled as well, gritting his teeth. "No, no, no, no-"

"Shush!" The general yelled, driving a spike of pain into your skull. He leaned down in front of you, eyes squinted, analyzing you for a moment. Then a question. "Who do you work for?"

"Scoops Ahoy," You responded like it was obvious.

Without hesitation, the guard over Steve delivered a swift blow to the eye socket. You yelped in pain as Steve groaned, now being held up by his hair. You on the other hand were allowed to drop your head, once again tasked with withstanding the pain.

Your breath stuttered in your throat. "Please, s-stop, it… It hurts…"

The general tilted his head, then grasped your chin roughly, tilting your head up and tilting from side to side as he examined you. There were no notable injuries on your person. Other than squinting the same eye as Steve's bruised one, not a scratch was on you. You wanted to kick yourself when you realized he took notice of it, glancing between you and Steve.

His brow was together in thought as he once again gave a command you didn't understand.

Another punch to Steve's jaw made you flinch in the general's hand, pitifully letting out a sob.

Another command, another punch, right into Steve's aching ribs.

If not for the straps holding you upright, you would have once again doubled over. Instead you only moved slightly against the mans hand, your abdomen visibly tensing.

"Stop! Stop it, you bastards!" Robin screamed, however to no avail as she was promptly ignored.

The general let you go as you silently suffered again, standing upright and smiling down at you. "Very interesting…"

The men scattered around the room as soon as another command was uttered from the man's mouth. Hands surrounded you all as the men tugged and removed the straps holding you as a unit only to strap you down again, individually in each of your chairs this time. They pushed Robin into the corner of the room, then grabbed Steve and slid him in front of you to face you. Only then did you see the extent of his wounds. Dried blood smeared on his face from an obvious nose bleed, uniform stained red, his eye a deep shade of purple and nearly swollen shut. Anger bubbled over inside you at the sight, making you finally find your voice.

"Don't touch him, he's had enough!"

The general simply smiled at you as he pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket, then circled around behind you.

The last thing you saw was Steve, worry written all over his face. Then you were shrouded in darkness as the handkerchief was pulled over your eyes, secured at the back of your head.

"What are you doing?" Steve panted as he watched. "Don't you dare hurt her, I swear, if you do anything to her-"

"Oh, not to worry," The man behind you interrupted dismissively. You could hear his footsteps walking around you back to Steve. Your teeth began to chatter as your adrenaline was surely hitting its peak now.

What did they not want you to see?

"We will not hurt her. Only you will."

"What-"

"Just sit. Watch your friend carefully, hm?"

It was silent for a moment before there were footsteps again, then Steve burst to life. "What is that? Wait, no, stop, get that away- Agh!"

Pain instantly webbed over two of your fingers as if they were slowly being crushed by a tool. You fought your restraints and flexed the hand in question, small whimpers emitting from you helplessly.

The pain gradually got worse as Steve yelled and begged, as did you. Then it steadied to a single ongoing pain. "Stop-" A cry slipped from you.

"Where is the pain, little one?" The man called over to you.

You shook your head, mostly in confusion, but the man interpreted it as resistance.

The pain fluctuated, making you lurch. "Agh- Th-the hand! His fingers, the first two fingers," You sobbed in defeat. "Stop, stop, please stop, make it stop…"

The pain was relieved then, if only enough to assure you they weren't going to break Steve's fingers. The ache of a bruise would remain and you flexed your hand again as if it would help. You still let out a sigh of relief.

Light stung your eyes when the blindfold was pulled off, now soaked with tears. When your eyes adjusted, you looked up to meet the half swollen gaze of Steve. Realization, hurt, sympathy, horror, all of it was draped over his face like a thick veil as he stared back at you. You looked down and saw the red impressions on his fingers from whatever had been clamped down on them. Next to him stood a man in white, a metal tool held in his hand.

The general stood there, holding Steve's head up by the hair to watch you. The man's grin was borderline psychotic. "Congratulations, you were correct."

You closed your eyes and lowered your head, teeth still chattering. The jolly expression on the official's face told you he planned on using this new information completely against you. Especially the longer you overstayed your welcome.

The man in power looked over to the man in the white overcoat, the man you assumed was supposed to be the doctor Robin mentioned. Another command in Russian, and the doctor walked to the table behind you. You couldn't bring yourself to look up at anyone, especially Steve.

"Now, try telling the truth this time, yes?" The general asserted as he wandered his eyes over each one of you. They pulled Robin up next to you both again. "It will make your visit with Doctor Zharkov less painful."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Your body swayed slightly before you let yourself lean back onto the side of the ambulance, watching the smoke rise. The mighty Starcourt was completely destroyed. Destroyed by a-… Well, you had yet to fully comprehend what it was and the events that had even transpired. All you were able to understand clearly was that you were alive, along with a couple adults, a group of middle schoolers, and your co-workers…. Could you technically call them co-workers now? Maybe just leaving it to friends was safer to say.

Your stomach was still a little queasy from whatever drug that doctor had injected you with, and your muscles ached from overexertion. Your eyes were so heavy they felt swollen, yet you knew if you laid down, sleep wouldn't come to you easily. Watching the last remaining flames and the smoke ahead of you was mesmerizing. Like you were sleeping with your eyes open.

The moment was broken as your face twitched a little in pain. Steve must have accidentally scratched his stitches again.

You hadn't looked at him since you all threw up in the bathrooms together. In fact, once you were sober, you had walked out claiming to need another drink of water from the fountain. After that, events happened so quickly you could hardly keep up. You were grateful at the time to have had something to distract you both with. Even now you were trying to distract yourself.

Bringing your hand up to your face you rubbed your forehead, a headache still refusing to leave you and Steve be. You'd come to accept that the pain probably wouldn't subside for a while.

Robin rounded the ambulance, wrapped in a security blanket. Her eyes were still red and it was clear she needed sleep as badly as you. Yet there you both were, still up and running.

"Hey… They look over you already?" Her voice was more gravely than usual, most likely from all the yelling she had done while you all were held hostage.

You nodded, still gazing at the wrecked mall. "Other than a couple bruises, I'm fine."

"Mm-hm," She hummed, clearly unconvinced.

"What?"

She rested her shoulder on the ambulance, leaning in closer. "Look… I don't fully understand a lot of what's happened, but I do think you need to talk to Steve. At least before we go home."

You sighed begrudgingly. You knew that was probably what you should do, yet all you wanted to do was hide from him. "What would I even say, Rob?" You mumbled.

She snorted then, causing you to look at her. "Dude, all you'd probably have to say to him is 'hi' before he'd do all the talking. He always has shit to talk about."

It was your turn to snort. "Yeah, sure…" You sniffled then, guilt blossoming in your chest. "It's… It's because of me they hurt him more…"

"Yeah… I-I mean no!" She caught herself, making you smile. "That all was just…. It was…. A lot. What was all that? With the Russians I mean, and the blindfold?"

By this point, and with everything you had gone through together, you thought Robin could handle what you've kept to yourself for so long. After all, your empathy with Steve was by far the tamest secret of the night.

You let your head rest back on the ambulance and closed your eyes. "I've been able to feel his pain ever since I was a kid," You let out in a breath.

When it was silent for longer than you liked, you looked to her worriedly. She was simply staring at you, looking as though she were thinking.

"You can feel his pain? Like, all of it?"

You nodded. "Physical, yeah."

It took her a moment more, hugging herself in the blanket as she thought. "That…. Makes sense actually." She snapped her fingers and pointed. "That's why they did that stuff, they tested you!"

You nodded, a shadow of gloom over your brow.

"And that's…. Why you passed out. Because he passed out."

Another nod.

"And he doesn't know, does he?"

You couldn't help but give a grin then, not one of joy, but more out of nihilism. "Of course not."

"And why, exactly?"

"I don't know, I just…. Got into the habit of keeping it from him. I think in general I was just scared. Scared I would scare him away or make life harder somehow." You hugged yourself, finding it hard to look at even Robin now. "I couldn't lose him… or bear him not believing me."

Robin began giggling, catching you off guard.

"What?"

She shook her head, dragging a hand down her tired face in exasperation. "I seriously doubt he would do any of that, especially after tonight. Also, you weren't in the bathroom when he talked about you."

"Talked about me?"

"Mm-hm," She nodded. "You're not the only one keeping secrets."

Your eyes widened and you pushed yourself off the ambulance. "The hell does that mean?"

"Nope, no more," She put her hands up defensively, "I wash my hands of this, I'm not enabling you any further."

"Oh, come on, Rob-"

"No! The only way you'll get more is if you talk to him yourself," She smirked. "Or do I have to actually drag you over there?" Her thumb thrown over her shoulder, she pointed to Steve in the neighboring ambulance, speaking with the paramedic. For the first time you looked past her to gaze at Steve, his shoulders sagged as he had an arm wrapped around his abdomen. You could feel the bruised ribs he was cradling.

You looked back at Robin, giving her a small pout. She returned it, although much more sarcastically. Simultaneously, you both broke out in smiles and giggles.

"You're a dick," You said, shaking your head.

"Only when you guys are idiots."

You rolled your eyes, turning to glance at Steve again. This time you caught him already looking at you, swollen eye and all. He raised his hand ever so slightly to offer a tiny wave, as if he were scared he would drive you away again.

You gave a tiny wave back.

"Fine," You muttered, walking past Robin and making your way over to him, eyes trained in the ground.

From this angle, the police car lights flickered blue and red over Steve's face, almost hiding the fact he was covered in purple bruises. Slowly you slipped next to him, sitting on the bumper between the open doors. Loose gravel crunched under your feet on the asphalt.

"Hi…"

"Hey…"

A shiver ran up your spine, but you weren't sure if it was from the breeze or your nerves.

"So, uh, Robin said I should talk to you."

He nodded, a single strand of grimy hair bouncing to his forehead. "Yeah, she told me to talk to you too."

You blew a puff of air out of your nose in a laugh. "Was that when you wouldn't stop talking about me in the bathrooms?"

Steve let out a laugh then, scratching the back of his head. "She told you what I said, huh?"

"Nah. Only that you said stuff. She left me on a cliffhanger just to get me to come over and talk to you," You dryly chuckled.

"Hm," He replied, "So you were kind of ignoring me after we got out."

You grimaced, looking down at your beat up shoes. "Yeah… Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't wan-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He interjected, turning to look right at you.

"... Tell you...?"

He scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. "That you can feel this," He lifted his arm and pinched it.

Your hand balled into a fist at the pain and you looked away. Why were you still so scared? Why did you still feel so shameful about all of this?

"You figured that out, huh?"

Steve shifted himself closer, close enough now that your shoulders were touching. "I'm not upset, okay? I just…" He sighed. "It's all so crazy. How long have you been able to feel it— When I hurt?"

You chuckled lightly. "A while. Since like elementary school."

"Shit," His hand reached out and grasped yours. "Look, if I had known, I would've-"

"I know-"

"No, you don't," He turned himself to you, bare knee bumping yours. "You really don't know. You don't know how much I would have done differently. How much more I would've cared, how I would have treated you better, how I would have… How I would have stood up to my dad somehow…" He paused, then cleared his throat. "I wouldn't have thrown myself into fights as much if I knew you were out there feeling everything, thinking you couldn't say a thing about it. If I had known, I would've realized you understood me more than literally anyone I've ever met."

You could feel your nose begin to tingle, a clear warning of tears threatening to bubble up. You pursed your lips, not trusting yourself to reply.

Steve scooched even closer, his knee now pulled up and resting behind your back, his other on the ground. He smelled of sweat, smoke, and blood, yet somehow a small wisp of his cologne still lingered. It all mixed together into a scent that would only ever remind you of this night.

His warm hand left yours to delicately glide up your opposing cheek. You sniffed as he pulled your face to turn and look at him.

"If you had told me, I would have told you that I've felt things too."

Your brow softened when your eyes went round, your heart sinking to your stomach. "Things?"

His face went downcast for a moment, as if in some sort of regret. "Remember when you dislocated your wrist in 3rd grade? And I went and got help?"

You nodded. You remembered the teacher had come to help you after Steve ran off, but then he didn't come back. The next time you saw him wasn't until school the next day. You had been upset that he hadn't come back with the teacher to help or even come over to your house to see if you were okay after school. He had apologized when you went off on him, but that was all. As kids, it was easy to just forgive and move on. Play the next game of tag.

"You were pissed at me… I ran and hid from you because I felt it too." He scratched his chin, looking off at the demolished mall. "That was the first time. It freaked me the hell out. I felt when it happened, and I felt when they popped it back in a few hours later at the hospital. I could tell when you bumped it wrong or strained it. I could feel it all." He looked you dead in the eyes then. "And everything after that."

You shook your head, your brow laden with confusion as you put your hand over his on your face. "You never said anything either…"

He smiled softly and shrugged. "I didn't think you had to know. To be honest, I thought it was all just some weird hallucination or something."

Your expression shifted into one of disapproval.

"Oh don't you even," His smile grew at you, "You're just as guilty for not telling me."

"Yeah, I…. I know… I'm sorry," You muttered, the wounds scattered over his face taunting you again. While only a few hits had been delivered upon the discovery that Russian general had made about you, all of the injuries hurt the same. Both physically and otherwise. "I guess we all have our secrets."

Steve moved his other hand to cradle your face fully, his face moving closer to nearly rest his forehead on yours. While smiling only a second before, his eyes were now filled with something more serious. Something you had never seen directed at you before. It made your attention on him freeze and heat rise to the back of your neck.

"Well, while we're confessing secrets… Can I let one more slip?"

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his, which you quickly noticed kept darting down to your lips. Was he really doing this?

"You… have another?" You squeaked, voice barely audible.

He nodded. "If you'll let me show you?"

You dumbly nodded back, your mouth slightly agape and eyes as round as a couple of full moons.

He leaned in, finally resting his forehead onto yours, one of his hands sliding down to the nape of your neck. When your noses bumped he turned his head slightly, fitting your faces together like a puzzle. His breath brushed over your lips, puzzle pieces almost completely flush.

A jolt went through you like electricity by a single thought. "Wait-" You pushed him back slightly at the chest.

His eyes shot open, gazing at you in anticipation.

You didn't continue, only stared at him a moment, trying to get a handle on the speeding thoughts swirling your mind. Your pause was just long enough to watch sorrow cover his features.

"I read it wrong, didn't I?" The hand on your neck slid down to your shoulder in dismay, the weight of it heavy.

"No… No! God no, I just…. There's…." You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to think. "You don't… Have to do that… if you dont really want to."

He tilted his head. "Who says I don't want to?"

You shook your head, biting your lip nervously. "You don't have to be close and sweet like that just because you feel bad for me." The tingling returned, tears now visibly welling.

Steve leaned back further, far enough to be able to start analyzing you. His eyes darted around, trying to pick apart what you had just said. "Because I feel ba-?… You think I want this just to make it up to you somehow?" He challenged, his thumb stroking your cheek in an attempt to possibly keep you calm.

Alas, a tear still escaped and dripped down your face. "Yeah you don't have to get with me like that just because you feel bad for a few fights, okay? I'm not upset that you-"

"That's not why," He deadpanned.

"Huh?"

"That's not why I want to kiss you."

The tears froze, as did the internalized denial of the situation at the utterance of those words.

I want to kiss you.

"I mean, it's part of it," He admitted, "The whole pain thing I mean. But I don't want this because I pity you or anything or because I feel bad for getting beat up. I mean sure, I never want you to feel that again, but… You have to know those aren't the only reasons, right?"

All you could do was stare back down at your lap, fighting the additional tears threatening to spill and flood the whole parking lot.

"Shit, you really don't…" He muttered, letting the hand on your cheek slide upwards into the roots of your hair. "You're so much more than just that empathy to me. Really, you are, you hear me?"

You sniffled, once again squeezing your eyes shut causing a round of tears to fall down at rapid fire. Steve caught all of them with a gentle brush.

"Seriously, you're one of the funniest people I've ever met. You have the prettiest eyelashes, the most adorable laugh, and you're hell of a lot smarter than I am," He lightly joked, reaching down to grab your hand once more. "You've helped me be better, forgave me when I didn't deserve it, and let me rant to you about whatever shit would piss me off. And you care so much about Henderson and his nerd friends. My life would be so sucky without you... even if I do have to feel your god awful period cramps." He snickered. "I want you in it more for as long as possible. I want you closer."

Despite the joke, your body shuddered in a frame wracking sob. The emotions were now pouring out from you in violent waves. The tears weren't just from Steve, it was buildup from the whole damned night. A dam of hurt, fear, sorrow, anxiety, disappointment, horror, regret, sadness, and pain had been building up over the course of hours and hours. Suddenly, this was the pressure that made everything come flooding out… and you couldn't stop it.

"Oh, babe," Steve cooed, his soft hand hooking your neck and pulling your face into his chest. The pet name sparked something inside you, but it was quickly engulfed by the absolute tornado of intensity ripping you apart from the inside.

Steve couldn't feel your emotions, true, but he could feel how hard you bit your lip trying to stifle any noise that tried to escape. He could feel your body shudder in his clutch. He could feel the wet tears you rubbed into his shirt. And he could feel his heart breaking, not because he was hurt by you— hurt that you thought he would do such a thing to you out of guilt. No, it was because you had genuinely thought he couldn't love you like that. He could see the denial in your face, the false belief you must have come to adopt over time.

Steve waited patiently for you to calm, rubbing your back and resting his cheek on the top of your head. Your lungs began aching with each breath, your throat was going dry and burning. Eventually your choppy inhales slowed and your whimpers began to cease. Deep breaths became easier to take in and the blur in your vision cleared. When you came back to the moment at hand, you realized you had brought your legs up off the ground and to your chest, leaning against the warm body beside you. In a ball, Steve had wrapped around you like a shell, rocking you ever so slightly.

Your body shook again, this time in a small laugh. "I should be the one comforting you, you know. You're the one with broken ribs and stitches in your face."

You felt him chuckle against you, the sound rumbling your ear against his chest. He smiled, relieved to hear you joke around again. Tilting his head, he looked down at you trying to see your eyes. They were finally open again.

When you caught his gaze, you stared back up at him in attention, eyes red and nose runny. While you were sure you looked like hell, all he could see was the damp sheen of tears and sweat highlighting his favorite parts of your face.

"Can I please kiss you now?"

You let out a breath as you sat up, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "I'm all gross, though."

He grabbed the back of your neck again and gently yanked your face to his. "Shut up and just let me kiss it better."

You rolled your eyes. "You're such a dork-"

His lips greeted yours, warm and soothing, the obvious pain of his busted lip cast aside just to feel each other's being. Your chest exploded once again with overwhelming feeling, but this time it was manageable. It was more than manageable, in fact, it was welcome. It was no longer a spark sucked into a gloomy tornado, but a ray of light, casting a sensation of healing rays from your chest outwards. Both of your movements melded together like clay, as did your breaths, creating a back and forth that you had been longing for. It was as if you were charging each other with hope after a night full of negatives and hopelessness. It was like being at home again after being gone for so long.

He was the first to pull away, his hands holding your head with a slight tremble in them. It made your heart swell. He was just as worked up as you.

"Ouch." He said under his breath.

A woozy smile burst over your face, rays of light reaching the surface. You brought your hand up to lightly brush your thumb over his bottom lip. "I think this should heal more before we try that again."

He shook his head, eyes drooped with lovesick admiration. "Let it hurt," He mumbled before leaning in once more, pressing his mouth to yours.

You accepted it with a grateful hum.

A/N: Thanks again for reading! Seriously loved the new people flowing into this blog and the comments you all leave. It means a lot. My confidence is boosted <3 Requests are open!

Tags: @solarbxby @mxcheese @junglecoxk @iheartmyguitars @freezaz123 @love-kurdt @johnricharddeacy @fangeekkk @kategables @thehybridprincesshatedchild @eternallyvenus @wenddsmuks-blog @spideyharrington @basketcaseeeeee @carinacassiopeiae @impossibelle @artsyjazzs @xjessmorley @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @alana4610 @reidsgubbler @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @mynameismothra @munsonzzgf @biscuitbeater15 (if tags are in red, then it would not let me tag you, I'm sorry 😔)

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #season 3 steve #soulmates au #soulmates to lovers #steve harrington angst #steve x reader #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things reader insert

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wolfythewitch · 1 year

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Au where Phil is a mercenary sent to kill this baby after a prophecy proclaims that it will kill and destroy the kingdom and everyone they love, but what they don't know is he's already lost everyone he's ever loved to his work and holds no loyalty to his current king, and not wanting to kill a baby, he just takes Techno and runs, raising him as his own.

Techno is strange. He talks to people that aren't there, he has a fascination with blood, he has nightmares that leave him wide-eyed and whispering quiet chants at night, but Phil loves him nonetheless. He teaches him to fight as soon as he can walk, teaches him how to kill to defend himself, to make it swift and painless and only when necessary. He tries to help him learn how to channel his magic, but it's clear that Techno is growing stronger than he anticipated. Still, Phil loves him. And Techno doesn't have any reason to hate.

What they don't realize is everything would've been okay if they'd just left Phil and techno alone. But Phil was considered a traitor and deserter, and the king continued to send people after them. When techno turns thirteen, the king's soldiers finally catch up with them and take Phil prisoner. Before they find Techno, Phil hides him away and makes him promise to run if they find him. When they finally leave with his father beaten unconscious and bound in chains, techno swears to raze their kingdom to the ground. If he finds his father dead, then no one else in the kingdom will be left alive.

He reaches out to his god, to the voice that's whispered in his head since he was a boy, and he takes him up on the offer he's been denying for years.

"I'll give you blood," Techno whispers, "If you grant me my vengeance."

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samkiszkasfacialhair · 5 months

Text

Vengeance

Pairing: Josh Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: “When people misbehave, they get punished. That’s how they learn, ya know?”

Warnings: Pit viper Josh, punishment sex, degradation, dominant Josh, bondage (tying hands/wrists and blindfolding), use of the word “slut,” “slave,” and “whore,” puppy play (kind of), forced blow job, gagging, breath control, mention of vomit, humiliation, teasing, rough unprotected sex, impact to the face, spitting.

Word Count: 6.5k

To say you planned to make Josh fall apart would be an understatement. However you never thought he’d turn the tables on you.

As you stood there, with a metal shelf pressed against your back and your hands tied above your head with the strings of your bikini top, trying to figure out how to get yourself free, you thought back to the series of events that led you to this moment.

It was a Kiszka family weekend. Their parents and sister had planned to come to see a show in a few days and the guys had the weekend free, which called for family activities.

Each of the boys organized something. Jake booked everyone hotel rooms, Sam made reservations and covered the cost of all the dinners, and Josh booked the daily activities- which he specifically was very excited for, because you were staying by a lake.

Josh rented a boat for one of the afternoons- something the entire family would enjoy.

So, a few days ago, you rush-shipped a new bikini and coverup for the trip and the day before leaving, it showed up at your front door.

Perfect.

It was a dark green cheeky bikini with little white flowers embroidered on it that was held together by just a few strings. It was cute however, it was a bit smaller in real life than it was according to the pictures online.

But the way it hugged and accentuated every part of your body that you wanted it to perfectly when you tried it on gave you a boost of confidence and not to mention, a few dirty thoughts- thoughts that you were sure were bound to cross Josh’s mind too. Besides, you loved time off with him. He wasn't as tired as he was during show days and you had more time for "activities."

He was going to love it, that much you were sure of.

But, you remembered, you’d also be around his family. So of course, you also purchased a cover up. The cover up was an off white knitted dress that would do its job for when you were around the family or at public places throughout the day.

You packed bags for yourself and Josh and right before zipping up the bags, you admired to yourself how your new bathing suit unintentionally but probably subconsciously matched the one Josh was set to bring- white swim trunks with a subtle pattern of green accented shapes. You threw it on top of yours and zipped the suitcase.

***

“Sam just texted me that he’s leaving now so he’ll be at the dock in a few minutes. You ready?” Josh asked as he laid on the bed of your hotel room on his phone, not bothering to look up to you as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving yourself one last look in the mirror.

“Oka- Woah. No. Absolutely not,” Josh protested at the sight of you.

“What?” you asked as you continued to put your earrings in.

“The outfit! No!” he said with a chuckle coming off his lips as if it was all a big prank.

Instantly, you put on the charm.

“You don’t like it?” you asked innocently.

He sighed, rolled off the bed, and came over to where you were standing, clasping his hands behind your back and pulling you close to him.

“Don’t be like that, Mama. It’s just… a lot. Well, actually, it’s not a lot at all. You’re practically wearing nothing. I mean, my parents are gonna be there today,” he explained, getting a good look at you.

You gave him a little pout, dropped your chin, and looked at him through your lashes to hit him with your best puppy dog look.

There was no sense in arguing. Josh knew you could be a bit of a handful at times and after all, that was something about you that he had to admit he loved- something that turned him on, even.

He laughed to himself and shook his head, “God, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Love you too, Baby,” you said sweetly as you gave him a quick kiss and a pat on his butt.

After grabbing your bags and a case of beer, you Josh walked out of the hotel, and down to the dock to the boat he had rented hand in hand. You were the last ones to arrive- as usual with him.

It was hot out but cloudy, and the breeze from the water was perfect. However, despite the clouds, Josh had on a pair of sunglasses. Pit Viper sunglasses to be exact. He loved them. You hated them. They made him look like a douche bag and he knew it. But, with you wearing a skimpy bikini that he didn’t exactly approve of, he figured he should include something you weren’t exactly a huge fan of as part of his outfit for the day. It was only fair.

Josh made a grand entrance upon stepping onto the boat, holding up the case of beer he brought and screaming out to his family to let them know the two of you had arrived.

The boat was big. It had a few decks as well as a full indoor living area, kitchen, and even a bedroom. There were also stairs leading down to an unlit area which you assumed led to storage and technical stuff.

After greeting his parents and sister, you sat down on a white padded bench near Sam who was was sitting crisscrossed on the deck of the boat while his girlfriend had her hands in his hair, tugging it this way and that as she put two French braids in it to keep it from blowing wildly in the wind.

“You look handsome with your hair like that, Sammy,” you said sweetly to him.

“Thank you! You look lovely today by the way,” he replied.

You smiled at Sam’s compliment and looked at Josh with an I told you so look on your face.

“Hm. At least Sammy thinks I look nice,” you whispered to him.

“I never said you didn’t” he said sternly as his jaw clench and he swallowed hard.

He lifted your legs up onto his lap and ran his free hand up and down them a few times before resting his hand just above your knee, almost as if he was claiming you.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned in your ear, just above a whisper as the boat started moving.

You opened your mouth to give him a smartass reply but stopped yourself when his dad stood in front of the two of you, handing you each a drink.

“You like black cherry, right?” his dad asked with a Whiteclaw extended to you.

“Yes, it’s my favorite, thank you!” you answered with a smile as you grabbed it from his hand.

Josh took a can of beer from his dad, cracked it open, gulped down almost half of it right off the bat.

“Slow down, Baby, no one’s taking it from you,” you giggled as you brought your hand to the back of his neck and swirled your fingers through the curls at the bottom of his head.

He swallowed and brought the ice cold can to your legs, using them as a table and sending shivers throughout your body.

As the boat sailed through the water, everyone drank, talked, and laughed. Everyone except Josh, who was quieter than usual. He was good at masking his emotions though. No one seemed to pick up on it except you. After all, you knew exactly why he was quiet.

What you wanted to happen, was happening. It was only a matter of time before he broke.

Soon, the boat anchored at a shallower area of the lake. The captain informed you all that the water was about twenty feet deep, making it safe and suitable for jumping off the boat and swimming.

“You guys going in?” Jake asked the two of you, standing up and unbuttoning the black overshirt he had on.

Josh looked over at you and raised his eyebrows, silently asking you if you wanted to go in.

You didn’t answer Josh. Instead, you eyed Jake up and down, making sure Josh saw you do so.

“Yeah,” you said, replying not to Josh, but to Jake.

You sat up and gave Josh a small smile. He didn’t smile back. Instead, he tipped his sunglasses down so you could see his eyes which were strong and giving you a warning look.

Ignoring the “knock it off” look, you gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking off your white knitted cover up. When you pulled it over your head, instantly, you caught Sam and Jake’s eyes on you, despite their own girlfriends being there.

Sam was obvious. His eyes practically burned a hole into the fabric of your bikini. With her hands still braiding his hair, his girlfriend jerked his head around and he winced as his hair got pulled, a seemingly intentional move on her part.

Jake, at least, was smarter about it, hiding behind a pair of round black sunglasses and raising his beer can to his lips, taking a sip to hide his smile.

Even their dad gave Josh an approving look and a raise of his eyebrows.

Josh handled each of them as he stood up to follow you.

He smacked the unbraided side of Sam’s head as he walked by him.

He laughed his dad off as respectfully as he could.

And as he walked by Jake, who was standing on the edge of the boat, he gave him a push and watched him fall into the water below him.

The sound of his body hitting the water was all you heard until you looked over to see him laughing with just his head out of the water, his body completely invisible as it emerged in the dark lake water surrounding him.

“You dick!” he shouted jokingly, “You better get your ass in here and bring me a new beer!”

Josh turned to you, pulling you in tight by your waist, “You heard your boyfriend,” he teased, “better get your ass in there,” he said, smirking.

“Jealous?” you asked sweetly.

He looked down at your chest and then back to your face.

“No,” he answered, stretching out the word fighting back a smile.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” you said as you gave him a peck and jumped off the boat and into the water with Jake.

Immediately, Josh followed behind you and eventually, Sam, his girlfriend, Jake’s girlfriend, and Ronnie were all in the water with you.

After a while of swimming with the group, having canned drinks thrown down to you all by their parents, and Sam and Jake swimming away to pee, you started to get cold and the group of you got back onto the boat before it took off again to head to another location in the lake.

As you sat on the top deck in just your bikini, with your legs in Josh’s lap, the sun started burning off the clouds little by little, making the day grow hotter, which was nice considering you were in a cold, wet bathing suit.

“You’re getting a little pink, Baby,” you said, pressing your fingertips onto Josh’s sunkissed shoulder and releasing them to see a small pale dot linger behind before returning to the same color pink around it.

“Yeah you can still burn even with the overcast,” Sam interjected, squinting up to the sky.

Josh rolled his eyes. Sam didn’t have that problem and he never did. Sam’s skin always held strong under just one layer of SPF 30 all day while Jake and Josh would be better off reapplying SPF 50 every hour. Sam’s comment also didn’t help with Josh already annoyed at him.

“You want 50?” his dad asked, holding out a can of sunscreen.

“Ah, yes, that’s perfect,” you said, standing up and reaching for the can from his dad, making sure you pushed your ass and tits out just a bit more than your normally would, “Thank you!”

“Course,” his dad replied.

Josh grabbed your wrist to stop you from twisting the nozzle open, “Actually, you wanna go inside with me? Get a drink and be in the shade for a little?” he asked quietly.

“M’kay,” you replied, getting up, handing his dad the can of sunscreen back, and following him inside the boat as the sounds of his family members talking and laughing muffled with the closing the glass door behind you.

“I want to make something very clear to you,” he said as he pulled you down the stairs by your arm and swung you around to face him once you reached the landing and were out of earshot of the captain of the boat.

The way he whipped you around made your breath hitch in your throat and you exhaled hard as your eyes met his and he continued speaking through his teeth.

“You want to dress like a slut? Act like a slut? I will treat you like a slut. And then we’ll see just how you like it, hm?”

You looked at yourself in the reflection of his sunglasses and smiled just a bit, tugging at your bottom lip with your teeth. You hated those sunglasses but you were so thankful for them right now. You had to admit, you loved seeing what he saw as you looked at the reflection in them. And right now, all you saw was a little brat who deserved whatever was coming her way.

If he wanted to, you’d let him take you on the stairs right then and there for anyone to see. That’s how bad you wanted and needed him right now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said sweetly, playing dumb.

“Really?” he asked rehtorically, “You think I didn’t notice all that shit you pulled with my brothers out there? Hm? And my fucking dad?”

“I was being nice. Unlike you who got a little attitude all of a sudden,” you said fighting back a smile.

You knew you weren’t just being nice.

“Yeah the way you were looking at Jake was really nice, wasn’t it?”

“You know what, I think you are jealous after all,” you replied.

“And I think, you need to be taught a lesson,”

“So teach me then,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, making sure you pushed your tits up just a bit with it.

That was it and you knew it. Those four words sent Josh to his breaking point and the look on his face proved it.

Josh smiled, shook his head, and let out a laugh through his mouth as he traced his bottom teeth with his tongue.

“Teach you? Oh I’ll teach you,” he said as he pulled onto your arm and led you down the narrow corridor of the basement of the boat and into a small room that was seemingly reserved for the crew members.

He slammed the door behind him and twisted the dead bolt to lock it.

He flicked on a light switch to reveal that you were both standing in a storage closet, containing just a utility sink and a metal wire shelf that was stocked from ceiling to floor with cleaning supplies.

“What’s your word, Mama?” he asked with his hands in his hair, untying the white bandana that he was wearing.

“Red,” you said clearly.

“And what if you can’t talk?”

“Shake my head three times.”

“Perfect,” he said, smiling at you and then turning his attention to the bandana between his fingers as he gave it a good tug.

There was a ball of anxiety in your stomach that was more excited than nervous or fearful. The two of you had experimented with stuff like this before. You trusted Josh with everything in you and even though you knew he was about to completely ruin you for his own pleasure and entertainment, you knew you were in good hands. After all, this is what you hoped for.

“Now,” he began as he spun you around, grabbed your wrists and held them together in his hand behind your back, “I don’t give a fuck about your pleasure. I don’t give a fuck if you cum. You misbehaved. And when people misbehave…” he paused for a second to tug the bandana tight around your wrists, “They get punished. That’s how they learn. Ya know?”

All your body would let out was a hum in agreement as Josh grabbed your shoulders and spun you around forcefully, manhandling you.

“So,” he whispered as he brought his face close to yours, “It’s time for you to learn so this doesn't happen again,” he said as he flicked the tip of your nose.

He used one hand to sneak to the back of your neck and untie your bikini top. In just a few seconds, the strings were undone and the top came tumbling down, exposing your bare chest to him. The second string that wrapped around your back was still in place though, keeping the two triangles of the top just dangling over your stomach, swinging back and forth as you moved your body.

The same hand continued down your chest and he swirled his fingertips over your nipple lightly, causing your back to arch involuntarily at his touch.

“Mmm, feels good?” he asked softly with his mouth an inch away from yours.

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whisper, closing your eyes and subconsciously bringing your face closer to go in to kiss him. A kiss which never happened because Josh pulled his face back.

In a second, a sinister chuckle left his lips and a sharp pain rang through your chest as he pinched and pulled upward on your nipple.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said bluntly, giving it one last tug before ripping his fingers from you.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You did as he said and dropped down so that your face was at eye level with the bulge in his swim trunks.

“What are you waiting for? Take ‘em off,” he said sharply.

“Josh,” you said bluntly, “I can’t,” you emphasized your words, reminding him that your hands were tied behind your back.

He didn’t need to be reminded. He didn’t care.

“Get creative. You’ll find a way.”

You looked up at his face and then down at his shorts which were at eye level. All you had was your mouth.

Inching closer to him on your knees, you took your teeth to the waistband of his shorts right by his hip bone, and tugged down.

They came down an inch on one side and you crawled to the other side of him and did the same there.

Back and forth you went, on your knees, tugging Josh’s trunks down an inch at a time on each side, looking absolutely pathetic, as he stood from above and watched with a smirk on his face, laughing at you. You couldn’t even see his eyes through his sunglasses, all you saw was yourself, his slave, in the reflection of them.

After getting his shorts down about halfway and struggling to get them to come off past his bulge, he had had enough and he pulled his shorts down the rest of the way, fully revealing his hard cock to you.

“Suck it,” he commanded.

You looked up at him, licked your lips, and leaned forward to take his dick in your mouth.

The second the tip of his dick pushed past your lips he let out a sigh of pleasure and grabbed the back of your head.

Instantly, he started using his hands to guide you. He used your hair as leverage, pulling at your roots and pushing down on your head as he moved you back and forth. It felt good- that little sting that came with each pull.

Normally, you’d be able to add some “technique” to sucking his dick. You’d use your hands and twist them around his shaft. You’d be able to go at your own pace, starting slow and sucking the tip the way he liked it. You could swirl your tongue around the head of his dick or cup his balls to send him over the edge a bit. But not this time. All you had was your open mouth. He was in control of everything.

In a way, you were glad he was. You could barely keep your own balance due to not being able to use your hands and water dripping from both your bathing suits and your hair had made the floor just a bit slippery below your knees, causing them to slide around a bit. Not to mention, you were on a moving boat.

However, him being in control of everything meant he was going to use you just the way he wanted to.

Quickly, he picked up the pace.

Josh let go of your hair and his hands gripped the sides of your head and pulled you back and forth on his dick with force a few times.

But that wasn’t enough for him. He stilled his hands, kept your head steady, and started thrusting his hips into you, fucking your face.

The gargle sounds that started in your throat and came out of your mouth as the saliva collected in your open mouth and began dripping onto your chin were something you’d only ever heard in porn before.

He looked down at you the entire time and you looked up at him, watching yourself in the reflection of his sunglasses. You could see and feel your own saliva dripping down between your tits.

With every thrust, his sunglasses slid further and further off his nose and you flinched as they came down, just missing your face, and hitting the floor to your left.

He stopped for a minute with his dick still in your mouth and both turned your eyes to the floor where you could just faintly see the sunglasses in your peripheral vision.

“Pick ‘em up,” he instructed and he pushed your head off of his dick backwards.

You wiggled your body around and leaned sideways awkwardly to grab at them, but you were unsuccessful. You tried a few times, grabbing them with your fingers before dropping them time after time. The way your wrists were tied up didn’t allow your hands for much movement. Not to mention the way you had to bend around was difficult and was stretching your back in painful ways, causing you to wince and whine as you tried.

You sat back on your heels and looked up at him, defeated and out of breath.

He laughed, “You are absolutely pathetic, Baby. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this.”

You looked at the glasses on the floor again and sighed. Still sitting on your heels, you turned yourself around, giving him a view of your ass with your hands tied right above it, which you were sure he loved.

And just as he wanted you to, like nothing but an obedient dog, you leaned down and with your mouth, picked up the glasses and crawled back around to present them to him.

He reached down and cupped the side of your face gently, a contrast to how he had been handing you for the past few minutes.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed the same way he would reward Sam’s dog for doing a trick, as he took the sunglasses from your mouth.

You fully expected him to put them back on his own face but instead, he reached down and put them on you.

In any normal circumstance, this would be a soft act of kindness. But not in this one. This was just another way of humiliating and degrading you, and the next words out of his mouth proved it.

“There we go, that’s better,” he said softly and sweetly, before his tone changed as he continued, “Yeah,” he laughed, “I don't even want to look at you.”

He stroked himself a few times before he continued, “Now, is my good little puppy ready for her treat? Open,” he said as he grabbed the back of your head and forced you onto his dick once more and held you there.

You gagged around his dick as it hit the back of your throat. You concentrated on breathing through your nose as your throat closed around his dick. You were swallowing his cock and your own saliva all while fighting back vomit that you could feel forcing its way up your throat.

Tears welled up in your eyes ran down your face, causing the inside of the glasses to fog up to the point where you could no longer see anything.

He kept one hand on the back of your head and used the other one to take hold of your nose and squeeze your nostrils shut.

At that point, you had lost feeling in your arms, you couldn’t see, and now you couldn’t breathe.

The only thing you could do was feel him using you and take it. Your mouth was nothing but a hole for Josh to use to get himself off. Every ounce of dignity was stripped from you. The only thing that even provided you with the slightest bit of it was your bathing suit bottoms that were still intact but pooling with your own wetness as Josh continued fucking your face.

You were a second away from shaking your head to get him to stop when he shoved you away aggressively, allowing you to suck in a massive and well earned breath as well as close your mouth to swallow properly for the first time in what felt like forever.

He pushed the glasses up onto your forehead, allowing you to regain your sense of sight, and both of you watched a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his dick stretch and eventually break apart into two pieces landing on his thigh and your chest.

Breathing with your mouth open to catch your breath, you sat back on your heels and looked up at him, desperately, as he looked down at you with a pleased expression on his face.

You were practically panting to catch your breath when he reached down and lifted your chin to close your mouth.

“Close your mouth, Baby, you look like a whore.”

No shit.

He held onto your cheeks and smooshed them together, hard, causing your lips to part and letting all the excess saliva ooze between your teeth, bubble out, and dribble down your chin.

For just a fraction of a second, he smiled at you. It was so brief that if you would have blinked in that exact second, you wouldn’t have seen it.

And just as quickly, his expression was serious again as he released your cheeks from his grip with a push to your face.

With that same hand, he swirled your hair around his wrist and held it tight in a makeshift ponytail in his fist before using it to yank you up to your feet.

You winced as he pulled you up forcefully, feeling your neck stretch as your legs tried to keep up with how quickly he was pulling.

As he pulled you up, you slipped around on the floor which was not only covered in lake water, but now drops of your own saliva. Josh held you steady for a moment with each of his hands gripping your upper arms.

He spun you around, freed your wrists, and spun you around again so that you were now facing him.

He threw the bandana to the floor on top of his disregarded swim trunks.

“Take that off,” he commanded, jutting his chin out toward your bikini top that was hanging by one loose knot just below your ribcage.

Careful not to drop it, you untied it, pulled it off, and handed it to him, unsure of the next plan he had for you.

“That little bratty mouth of yours served me well, Mama. But now,” he said as he held your wrists together in front of you and wrapped the bikini top strings around them a couple times, “Let’s see what that pussy can do for me, hm?”

He walked you backwards a few steps until your back made contact with the metal shelf behind you, causing you to shiver from how cold it was.

He raised your tied wrists over your head and using the rest of the bikini top, he secured your wrists to the top wire shelf, wrapping the string around in the most unconventional way and creating knots that would be close to impossible to undo.

He gave your wrists a yank and when they didn’t detach from the shelf or slip out of the ties, he smiled to himself with satisfaction.

He walked around to the front of you and looked you up and down.

“Comfortable?”

“No,” you whined as you moved around a bit, struggling.

“Aw that’s too bad, Mama. You look so pretty like this. All desperate and helpless. Nothing but a whore for a good fuck,” he said as he sucked his teeth and gave you a condescending pout.

He took one finger, starting at your wrist, and ran it down the inside of your entire arm.

You squirmed as his finger brushed over your armpit and down to your nipple, giving it a flick before his hand came up to your chin.

With his other hand, he grabbed the front of your bikini bottom and pulled tight, letting the fabric create a burning friction between your folds.

You let out a whimper of pain.

“Jo-” you whined.

“Shhhh,” he said, shushing you but also finishing the last sound of his name that you whined out.

He let go and the elastic in the bottoms snapped back onto your skin with a sting. He pushed the crotch of your bikini bottom to the side, feeling around with his fingers- feeling the wetness that had accumulated. Slowly, he dipped two fingers inside you and pulled them back out.

“You like all this a bit too much, don’t you?” he asked in a sweet voice, “Maybe a bit more than you should?”

He was right. You liked this more than you should. A lot more than you should. Any sane person would find this completely humiliating and degrading. But surprisingly, this got you more turned on than anything.

You wanted Josh to use you. You wanted him to treat you like an object- not a person- nothing but a masturbation tool for him.

You nodded in response as he pulled his wet fingers up and held them in between both of your faces, rubbing them back and forth, inspecting what was left on them.

“You know, I’m starting to think you planned this whole thing,” he said, smiling sinisterly, "You're smarter than you look,"

He picked up the bandana off the floor and wiped his fingers with it before balling it up and shoving it in your mouth.

“You like how you taste?” he asked with his hand covering your mouth tight.

“Mhm,” you said with your voice muffled from both the bandana and his hand.

“I’m gonna give you something that you’re really gonna like then,” he whispered as he lifted your leg up and placed your foot on the ledge of the utility sink next to you.

Still holding the crotch of your bottoms to the side with one hand, he lined himself up with your entrance and then held onto your hip with his other hand as he slid inside you, bottoming out and filling you up completely.

He started off slow, pulling out most of the way before filling you up again. However, he quickly picked up the speed and pressure, pushing your back into the metal shelf behind you with every thrust.

That familiar dull ache began forming deep in your stomach as he kept going. It would come and go with his movements. Normally, you’d be able to tell him what to do to make you cum and he’d do it happily. But not this time. Right now, you knew your place. You were his toy, nothing but a set of holes for him to jack off into. Your pleasure meant absolutely nothing to him, he said it himself. If you asked him for anything to help you get closer to a release, he’d do the opposite and laugh at you.

As he continued, you felt the string of your bikini bottom come loose and fall over your leg and his. You looked down to see the strings dangling from your body and swung around between the two of you.

Upon looking down, the glasses that he had rested on the top of your head, once again, fell to the floor. But this time, Josh paid them no mind.

Instead, he pushed on your left leg that was held up by the sink and used your thigh for leverage, allowing himself to go in at a deeper angle as his other hand white knuckled the shelf behind you.

He grunted and breathed hard through his teeth while you whimpered in both pain and pleasure while biting down hard on the now soaked bandana.

All it took was one particularly deep and hard thrust to send a pornographic combination of expletives and moans from your mouth into the air.

“Oh God, Josh! FUCK!” you screamed, letting the now saliva soaked bandana to fall to the floor.

Josh reached his hand up to your face laid his entire palm on your cheek with a hard slap before forcing four of his fingers into the side of your mouth and pulling your lips apart as he hooked his hand around so the palm of it was on your cheek and he was pressing your head back into the shelf as he continued fucking you.

“Come on, Mama, louder. Let ‘em all hear. You’re lucky I’m not fucking you up there, letting Sammy and Jake have their turns too. Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Keep it in the family, huh? You wanna fuck my dad too? Be my new step mom? You want that, don’t you? Disgusting.”

“No,” you argued back.

But with his hand prying your mouth open, you couldn’t get your lips or tongue to make the right N sound, which in turn made you sound the most pathetic you ever have.

“I’m sorry you’ll have to enunciate. What was that?” he asked with a chuckle coming off his lips, knowing damn well you loved being his little fuck toy and you were his to humiliate.

“I aid o!” you attempted to say.

“Oh you said no? Didn’t seem like it considering you’re all over them, wearing this slutty little bikini. Oh you look so handsome Sammy! Good for nothing but sucking and fucking,” he said, pushing into you harder as he spoke those specific words.

He started slamming into you mercilessly. The shelf behind you began moving and hitting the wall with each thrust with a thud. Paper towel rolls began falling from the top shelf onto the floor. Bottles of soap and cleaning products began falling over on the shelves as Josh pushed you into it.

Despite all that, Josh didn’t stop. Instead, he put his foot up on the bottom rung of the shelf and lifted his hips up underneath you, pushing himself deeper than ever before.

That was it. That was all it took to send you over the edge. The building feeling in your stomach came to a peak right there and exploded.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you watched the inside of your eyelids flicker open and close as you felt yourself tighten around Josh’s dick with your orgasm pulsing through your body.

It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. It was deep and strong and well earned.

The sounds that came out of your mouth were unintelligible.

He fucked you through your orgasm and right into his, letting out a deep moan as he released himself inside you. He closed his eyes tight and furrowed his eyebrow as waves of visible pleasure filled his entire body causing his body to twitch as they hit.

When he finished, he stilled his movements and let go of your face; and the two of you, with your faces less than an inch apart, just stared at each other in awe, breathing heavily. Almost like neither of you could believe any of that just happened.

Gently, he cupped your face, as if he was silently asking you if you were okay. It was like time stopped for just a second with him.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, looking at you with a genuine softness in his eyes.

He broke eye contact and looked down as he pulled himself out of you. Slowly, he lowered your leg back to the ground before cleaning himself off in the sink. He splashed cold water on his face and shook it off. You watched him as you felt the warmness of his cum starting to drip out of you.

Josh reached down to the bottom shelf next to you and uncapped a plastic bottle of water.

“Open,” he said as he lifted your chin up and poured water in your mouth carefully in an act of kindness.

You swallowed a few times and he pulled the bottle away, letting the excess water drip down your chin, neck, and chest.

He gulped down what was left in the bottle and when he was done, he pulled his shorts back on and stood back, admiring his work.

Your hair was a mess- half wet, half dry, and tangled. There was black makeup streaming down your face. Saliva, both wet and dry, had run from your mouth, to your chin, and down to your stomach, leaving a wet spot on the top of the crotch of your bikini bottoms, which were hanging on loosely by one hip as his cum dripped down your inner thigh.

Finally, to put the finishing touches on his masterpiece, he got his face close to yours and expecting a kiss, you lifted your chin to him.

“Now,” he began, “What do you say?” he said softly, letting the word “say” draw out a bit.

“Thank y-,” you started to say when you were interrupted by Josh spitting on your face.

You flinched as it hit your face.

He aimed for your mouth but missed by just a bit, landing just below your bottom lip, giving his saliva no choice but to trickle down your chin and then down your chest, where it fell in and mixed with every other bodily fluid imaginable.

He picked up his sunglasses and bandana from the floor and ran them under water in the sink.

“Well,” he said casually as he laid the bandana across the edge of the sink to dry and shook the excess water off the glasses, “I’m gonna go take a nap so, I’ll see you later, Mama.”

“You’re seriously not going to get me out of this?” you asked with your hands still tied to the shelf.

“Eh,” he said, “You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders as he opened the door and shut it behind him, flicking off the lights as he left, leaving you there as you were.

In the darkness you moved around a bit until a little green blinking light above the door caught your eye.

A security camera.

Fuck.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry (no I’m not).

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka one shot

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gerrystamour · 10 months

Text

suspended in the ether, till i felt you in my chest [chapter one]

Written for: Lex's Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge Prompt: "Can I braid your hair?"

Explicit | Steddie | In Progress

So, Eddie would say yes as blandly as possible and Steve would get a little smirk on his lips and do whatever it was that he asked to do, and then Eddie would feel flustered, off-kilter and set adrift. It always felt like a test or a challenge and Eddie had no idea if he passed. Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t. And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right? This is my first fill for @thefreakandthehair Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! I hope you all enjoy!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

chapter one: we are broken bodies bound for each other

“Can I braid your hair?”

Eddie blinked over at Steve, eyebrows high on his sweaty forehead while he held his hair up off the back of his neck. He could swear he felt heat pouring out of his head. Steve was strarfishing in the center of Eddie’s bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt while Eddie perched on top of the desk under his window, having a smoke and pretending he could feel a breeze coming in.

Summer had descended on Hawkins with a vengeance, as if in retaliation for the brief handful of weeks in the Spring when the portals to a frigid hell dimension opened up and attempted to take over their world. Granted, summers in Hawkins tended to be hotter than Satan’s taint, especially around the Fourth of July, but Eddie figured he was allowed to be noisy and bitchy about it if he wanted.

He'd almost died—first at the hands of a town full of angry, scared hicks, then by a swarm of demobats—and this was his first summer officially free of Hawkins High, the other frigid hell dimension in that shitty town. If Eddie had to spend the summer in the sweaty armpit of America because of dumb bullshit like “recovery” and “physical therapy” and “being under observation,” he was going to bitch and moan and throw all the tantrums he wanted.

It helped that all the stupid bullshit (like recovery, and physical therapy, and being under observation) meant that Eddie got to spend a lot of time with Steve outside of the apocalypse. They were both lucky enough to be Under Observation together, courtesy of both of them being the favoured chew toys for the demobats. From there, Steve just started staying close to Eddie, taking him to and from physical therapy, helping him with his exercises at home, coming over when Eddie was in too much pain to get up to use the bathroom, let alone get up and locate painkillers and take them.

It had been a while since Steve had to help him on a particularly bad pain day, at least one that extreme, but Steve still came over almost daily. Usually, they would just hang out and eat junk food, smoke a bit of pot sometimes; watch whatever movie Steve brought over from work. Sometimes, Steve would suggest they go for a drive and they would do just that, make like they would leave completely.

“We could get out of here, never look back.” Worded like a comment, spoken like an oath.

“You wanna run away with me, Stevie?” Tone teasing but lined with a hollow desperation.

The air in the Beemer would change as the question sat heavily in the space between them and Eddie was held in suspense, waiting for Steve to say or do anything. Most of the time, he wouldn’t hear an answer from Steve over the sound of the wind through the open windows and, like the coward he was, Eddie was too afraid to look at him after asking.

Sometimes, though, he would hear, “Of course I do, Eds.” Soft, teasing, possibly even sweet. Eddie’s delusional ass always liked to imagine it sounded as lovestruck as he felt.

Regardless of whether Steve answered or not, they would just drive, next stop anywhere big enough to disappear into with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever cash they had on them. Sometimes, they would be talking, usually about stupid shit that turned into rowdy, playful arguments, but most of the time they were quiet. Just letting the music play while they played at running away from Hawkins, a tension building between them that Eddie could almost feel, like the lowest tone on a bass guitar.

The furthest they’d ever gotten outside of Hawkins before one of them chickened out was two hours. Well, the furthest they’d ever gotten before Eddie chickened out.

Eddie hated to admit that he was always the first one to back down, thinking about Wayne back at home wondering and worrying about Eddie again. He would think about how Wayne would take Eddie just skipping town, not even saying goodbye or giving him any warning, after everything they had gone through.

And really, what would they even do if they left suddenly and unceremoniously like that? Especially the two of them?

Sure, they were friends now, Eddie felt secure enough in what they had going on to say that much was true, but that was tentative at best. He was still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, and Steve was still Steve. It was only a matter of time before he found out just how much of a freak Eddie was and ended everything. Eddie was pretty sure Steve wouldn’t hurt him, but still…

They couldn’t run away with each other because then Eddie would have nothing to fall back on once Steve found out. Not just about what team Eddie was batting for or whatever the stupid sports metaphor was, but the specific person he was stuck on. Even if Steve was okay with him being gay… the whole reason Eddie even had to move to Hawkins just before he turned thirteen was because he was an idiot and told a friend about his crush on him. Of course, his dad found out after the boy and their other friends beat Eddie up, and that obviously ended with him being shipped to Indiana to live with his uncle. But the key detail was that the kid knew Eddie was gay and told him it was okay, that he was fine with that. Eddie never wanted to take that chance again.

They had just returned to his trailer from yet another game of Escape Chicken. It had taken a bit longer than usual for Steve to respond when Eddie had suggested turning around this time, long enough for Eddie to turn and look at him. There was something intense in Steve’s expression, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his eyes traced the flex of Steve’s arms as he wrung the steering wheel briefly. For an exhilarating moment, Eddie had thought Steve would ignore him and keep going.

Then Steve looked over at Eddie with his brightest, stupidest, goofiest grin that never failed to make Eddie’s stomach do somersaults, and then turned the car around. The drive back to Hawkins was always light, with Steve turning up his shitty music and singing along to the dumb love songs, batting his long, pretty eyelashes at him whenever Steve caught him watching.

But this time Eddie was having a hard time shaking off that moment just before Steve turned around. That moment where it really felt like Steve wasn’t going to stop, and if it hadn’t been for Eddie sitting there asking to go back home, Steve probably wouldn’t have. How long did Eddie have before Steve disappeared, with or without him?

“Eds?”

Steve’s voice brought Eddie out of his spinning thoughts and back to the matter at hand, which honestly wasn’t much better for Eddie’s constitution.

Because the matter at hand was Steve starting their other game of chicken, the one that Eddie wasn’t sure who was winning or losing , if either of them even were because maybe it wasn’t even a game like the one in the car.

It still kind of felt like Eddie was the first one to flinch every time, though.

This round was always started by Steve, with him offering some sort of physical attention, and Eddie wanted to say no— knew that he should say no— but he was always, always too weak.

How could he be expected to turn down the opportunity to have his fucking crush touch him, no matter how chaste? Sure, he felt like a fucking creep saying something innocent and nonchalant— “Sure, man. Knock yourself out.”— while knowing that his thoughts were anything but. Sure, it felt like taking advantage when Steve would get close enough that Eddie could smell what remained of his cologne through the musk of his sweat. But there was really only so much Eddie could withstand; he already turned down running away into the sunset with Steve, the least he could allow himself was whatever platonic scraps of physical affection the man would offer him.

Obviously, Eddie never initiated this little game, even before he realized how he felt about Steve. Being a queer alone made Eddie’s acceptance of Steve’s touches risky enough, and once he figured out how he felt about him? It was stupid that he kept letting it happen, but at least he never started it. Plausible deniability and all that.

Stupid and pathetic as it was, he would take what he could get for as long as possible.

Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t.

And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right?

The real issue was that he just needed to tie his hair up, but Eddie couldn’t find any of the silk ties that Jeff’s mom had given him after helping him cut an elastic band out of his hair during his second senior year. His hair was even curlier with the sweat and humidity, which made it way too unruly to risk a ponytail or bun with a normal tie. Of course, braiding it solved all of that, didn’t it?

“Dude, what?” Eddie asked dumbly as he snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray by his knee, trying to stall a bit before he gave his inevitable consent to have Steve’s hands on him in a strictly platonic manner.

“Your hair— do you want help with it? I can braid it for you, get it off your neck,” Steve offered again, sitting up on Eddie’s bed and gesturing at him. He was sweaty too, his shirt soaked through and his face red from the heat. Somehow, Steve’s hair was still gorgeous, in spite of the sweat dripping from his hairline and the muggy, oppressive air around them.

“You know how to braid hair?” Eddie asked rather than give Steve a response to his offer, raising an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t like Eddie actually doubted Steve’s abilities; he hadn’t doubted Steve since he jumped into a haunted fucking lake without hesitation.

Steve rolled his eyes with a put-upon sigh. “I used to braid Carol’s hair all the time,” he answered, and that piqued some of Eddie’s interest since Steve didn’t mention his friendship with Carol or Tommy H very often these days. “I stayed in practice helping Max when she’d let me before everything. C’mon, you’ve been bitching and moaning since we got back, and it stopped being cute, like, an hour ago.”

“Aw, Stevie, you think I’m cute?” Eddie teased with an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes, managing to keep from grimacing outwardly as his mouth got away from him.

Something passed over Steve’s face and Eddie couldn’t place the expression, and it didn’t help that it was gone as quickly as it appeared. If he had to name the look, Eddie would have called it sad, but that didn’t make sense. Eddie didn’t say anything that could have hurt Steve’s feelings, so he couldn’t be sad. But what else could that expression have been?

“Last time I’m offering, Eds. Do you want help or not?” Steve asked with another bitchy eye-roll that Eddie couldn’t help but snort at.

“Alright, Stevie, have at’er,” Eddie said as nonchalantly as possible, gesturing grandly at his frizzy mane. “I mean, good luck, I guess.”

“It’ll be easier if your hair’s wet,” Steve said simply, getting up off the bed and stretching with a groan.

His t-shirt, soaked with sweat and sticking to Steve’s skin, rode up with the motion and showed off a freckled and scarred strip of Steve’s midriff. Eddie wanted to lick the skin that was revealed, taste the salt of Steve’s sweat, make his own marks and leave it shiny with his spit. When Steve lowered his arms, the shirt stayed lifted where it was stuck to his skin.

Eddie quickly diverted his gaze as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Should I get like a bowl? Or we might have a spray bottle kicking around,” Eddie said thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck. He jumped when Steve let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Or, I was thinking you could just hop into your shower real quick?” Steve suggested, crowding his space just enough that Eddie could practically taste the salt of his sweat. It was unreal just how much Eddie was obsessed with Steve’s fucking scent, just the smell of clean skin, sweat, and cologne. It never failed to fill Eddie’s head with thoughts of how he’d smell during other activities.

That thought alone had Eddie jolting back with a nervous laugh that came out too loud to pass off as casual. Oh well, he’d just roll with it. “Right! Of course, shower. You’re right,” Eddie said with another loud laugh, giving himself a self-deprecating eye-roll.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a little smirk. “Make sure you use that new shampoo I got you, and the conditioner—”

“Yep, got it, Stevie,” Eddie interrupted quickly, his heart skipping a beat at remembering the gifted haircare products that Steve had seemed almost nervous about giving to him. It had been a lot, and Eddie knew it had cost a lot, but Steve insisted he have all of it.

“I mean that leave-in stuff, the mask—” Steve started again, following him out of the room, and Eddie paused in the hallway to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna join me? Just to make sure I wash my hair properly?” Eddie asked blandly, and he was legitimately impressed that he was able to deliver that line so smoothly. The thought of Steve joining him in an enclosed space while naked was something Eddie usually only indulged in when he was alone and in his bed.

The comment had Steve stopping in his tracks, his mouth clicking shut as he glanced away from Eddie. It was… not unexpected, necessarily, but it also wasn’t the scoff and eye-roll Eddie’s smartass comments usually garnered. Fear gripped Eddie as he realized he might have fucked up, that he said too much and all the rumors from high school clicked into place.

“Welp! I’ll be right back,” Eddie said, too quick and too loud, before spinning on a heel and disappearing into the small bathroom of the trailer. Hopefully, he could figure out a good excuse for inviting his friend into the shower with him with minimal freaking out.

Steve wasn’t sure just how long he stood outside the bathroom door just listening to the water running while his brain came back online after Eddie’s comment.

The thought of joining Eddie in the tiny stall had Steve’s head full of heat and static, and a very large part of himself was tempted to say, “screw it” and do just that. It was easy to imagine it, crowding Eddie against the wall and slotting their hips together, getting each other off in a frantic, hungry frenzy. Without really meaning to, Steve’s thoughts wandered further, his daydream shifting to imagine Eddie on his knees, his smart mouth occupied while Steve buried his hands in those curls he was obsessed with. Then his mind supplied him a very vivid fantasy of his cock sinking into a different tight heat—

Sucking in a sharp inhale, Steve shook his head and quickly went back to Eddie’s room. He couldn’t just stand there in the middle of the Munson trailer getting a hard-on while listening to Eddie shower. There had to be something to do with manners or whatever. And as much as he wanted to go into that bathroom—he was invited, right?—he wouldn’t because he was working really hard on giving Eddie the space he needed, waiting for Eddie to finally act on what they both felt.

Because they both felt it, right? Steve definitely thought so most of the time, with all of Eddie’s shy smiles and delighted giggles whenever Steve made a joke, or the way he would lean into Steve’s hands when he’d accept a massage, or the way those big brown eyes would watch Steve’s mouth sometimes rather than meet his gaze while he talked. But then, when Eddie would deliver his flirtatious little lines, they would come out flat, sarcastic almost. Some sort of tone that was so deliberately uncaring, it threw Steve off completely.

What did it mean when someone so animated and vibrant turned so flat? Was that just how Eddie flirted? Part of him was convinced that was the case, and Steve just had to get used to Eddie’s style, because he knew how Eddie felt, had known at least somewhat for months now.

Steve found out back when Eddie had just barely woken up from his coma and was so high on pain medications, it was doubtful he really registered that he had company, let alone what he was saying to them. It made for some really funny moments that had Steve wishing he had some way to record them.

Then one day, Steve had been helping Wayne while he practiced redressing Eddie’s healing injuries. Mostly, Steve’s job was to keep Eddie sitting up and make sure his hands stayed put and didn’t get in his uncle’s way. When the bandages were pulled away from the stitched-together skin of his midriff, Eddie looked down with an exaggerated grimace.

“What the fuck, I lost three tattoos and a nipple?” Eddie whined, like he always did when the bandages came off. Steve usually just snorted and listened to his complaints, but there was something extra to Eddie’s tone that he didn’t like.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re gonna have sick scars, dude,” Steve said with a winning smile when Eddie lifted his pout to look at him. Winking, Steve added, “Chicks dig scars, the whole bad boy look. Seriously, trust me.”

“If you say so,” Eddie sighed, still pouting dejectedly, and Steve frowned. Then Eddie said, “Don’t really care what girls like, though.”

At the time, Steve didn’t really register the way Wayne had fumbled the roll of medical tape, too caught up in getting Eddie to smile again. “Of course, you don’t,” Steve teased, winking at Eddie.

Eddie giggled. “Stop that, why are you winking? You look dumb,” he laughed, and Steve felt like he'd won something. Still smiling, his dimples out in full force, Eddie leaned closer to his face and asked, “What about dudes, though?”

The hospital room went very quiet as Wayne sucked in a sharp breath. Steve just blinked at Eddie, their eyes locked while he processed the question slowly. “What?” he asked dumbly after a few moments.

“I think that’s enough of this conversation—” Wayne started to say.

“I said!” Eddie interjected loudly, glaring almost childishly at his uncle before his attention returned to Steve. “What about dudes? Men? Boys? What do they think of scars?”

It was a bit embarrassing how long it still took for the dots to connect for Steve, but once they did, he blushed and glanced at Wayne nervously. The man was watching Steve with that hawkish stare of his and Steve had to look away. He could still feel Wayne’s stare burning holes into the side of his head and God he just hoped this wasn’t the first Wayne was hearing about this, too.

“Y-yeah, dudes dig scars, too,” he finally stammered out, meeting Eddie’s gaze once again. Eddie was squinting at him almost suspiciously, so Steve added a quiet, “A lot.”

Eddie’s expression split back into his goofy grin and Steve’s stomach did a little somersault. “What about you, big boy?” he pushed, his tone strange as if he had attempted to purr or something. If the moment wasn’t so whatever this was, Steve would’ve laughed.

“What about me?” Steve asked stupidly. He knew exactly what Eddie was asking.

With the biggest eye roll, Eddie asked, “Do you like scars, Stevie?”

That was the question of the century, at least it was for Steve, because the moment it left Eddie’s mouth, three things immediately clicked into place in Steve’s head.

The first being that yes, Steve was absolutely into scars. He didn’t have much experience really seeing scars on anyone else other than himself, but he still knew. The second was that he knew he was going to like Eddie’s scars, a part of him liking that some of their scars would match even. And third, there was a part of him that was hungry, possessive even, at the thought of Eddie with scars— especially Eddie with scars that matched his.

“Y-yeah, Eds, I like scars,” he managed to say, but he was nearly bowled over at the intensity of Eddie’s grin when it widened even further.

“Do you think they’re sexy?” Eddie asked, and Wayne sucked his teeth.

“Boys—”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve answered, taking a page from Eddie’s book and trying to ignore Wayne. It was a little hard to do when the man was packing up the gauze and medical tape quickly.

Eddie’s grin shifted into a smirk as he leaned so close to Steve’s face. “How sexy—?”

A surprisingly big and strong hand fell heavily on Steve’s shoulder, startling him.

“Alright, boys, that’s quite enough,” Wayne said sternly, and Eddie just laid back on the bed and giggled loudly up at the ceiling. Steve’s stomach had felt squeamish, especially when Wayne’s eyes met his with something fierce and angry in them. “Harrington, a word outside. Now.”

Steve did not waste time standing up and following Wayne out to the hall. The man kept walking, so Steve silently followed until Wayne led them to the stairs. Once the door behind them shut, Wayne spun and pinned Steve with a hard stare.

“Sir—”

“No, you’re going to listen to me, Harrington,” Wayne interrupted, and Steve’s mouth snapped shut with a loud click. Once he was satisfied that Steve would keep his mouth shut, Wayne nodded once and in a low, dangerous voice he said, “Now, you’re not going to repeat a damn word that you just heard in there. If I catch even a whisper of what he said—”

“I won’t,” Steve interjected, grimacing when Wayne’s expression darkened. “Please, just—he’s not the first friend I’ve had that’s—I would never do that, okay?”

Wayne’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “He’s too high for his own good right now, he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying,” he said, his tone almost challenging and Steve glanced away. The thought of Eddie saying all of that, implying all that he had but not meaning any of it? It hurt a lot more than it probably should have, given that Steve only realized his feelings for Eddie specifically less than ten minutes ago.

When Steve managed to meet Wayne’s eyes again, his expression was far less suspicious, more thoughtful than anything. “Don’t bring any of this up unless Eddie does, got it?” he eventually said, and Steve began to protest.

Selfishly, he wanted to clear up whether Eddie meant it as soon as possible, to hear Eddie repeat all of it and fill in the gaps. He wanted to hear Eddie say he thought scars were hot too, that Steve’s scars were hot.

“Sir—”

“Listen, Steve, I know my boy and I know he doesn’t do well when he feels cornered. Even if you go in gentle, he’s gonna lash out and probably say something that cuts down to the quick,” Wayne pushed sternly, and Steve shut his mouth with a small nod. “You can take my advice or not, up to you, but I promise you it will not end well if you push.”

Steve was tempted to go against Wayne’s advice, to just clear everything up the moment Eddie was properly lucid again. But then he thought about possibly losing Eddie when he had a chance at something, that he could blow that chance because he was impatient and pushy. There was no way that Steve would take that risk, so he begrudgingly did as Wayne told him; he didn’t bring it back up, and he didn’t push Eddie to bring it up himself.

Still, Steve decided to show Eddie that his feelings were reciprocated; he flirted and teased, offered physical affection and helped him out as often as he could, cooked for him and Wayne and kept him company. He spent weeks just trying to show Eddie that he wanted him, too. That Eddie could finally close the distance between them, and he wouldn’t be turned away.

Then one day when Eddie and Steve had been grabbing something to eat after their monthly check-up with the government doctors, some hick had spat something vile and cruel as they passed their table. Eddie made a crude gesture back at them, looking all the world like he didn’t give a shit what they thought, but the moment the asshole was gone he deflated.

“I fucking hate it here. Can’t wait to get the fuck out,” Eddie grumbled, and Steve’s chest squeezed. He hadn’t considered that Eddie would want to leave, which he immediately realized was stupid. Eddie hadn’t been treated well by the town his whole life, and things had only gotten worse since spring break. Of course, Eddie wanted out.

“You’re leaving us, Munson?” Steve asked as he tossed a couple of fries into his mouth.

Eddie sighed, shrugged. “No plans yet. Probably wouldn’t anyway,” he said with a heavy, put-upon sigh.

“Why not? What could possibly be keeping you here?” Steve asked with a grand gesture at the diner around them, though he was obviously meaning the whole town.

Eddie glanced at him, cheeks turning pink, before he looked away and cleared his throat. “People,” he eventually said with another shrug, and Steve was positive he saw Eddie’s eyes glance over at him again as he said it.

“Oh,” Steve thought, his heart hurting at the thought of being part of the reason Eddie was staying in a town that despised him. At the same time, he felt like flying, the knowledge that he was enough of a good reason to stick around. Or, he was at least one of the good reasons.

“You shouldn’t make your decisions based on other people,” Steve said after a minute. “I’m sure they’d understand if you left.”

“They would. Definitely would,” Eddie agreed with a hollow little laugh. “I wouldn’t make it a day out there alone, though.”

Without even thinking about it, Steve asked, “Then why don’t you ask if they’d go with you?”

Eddie laughed out loud at that, but it was a hollow and almost bitter sound, his big brown eyes rolling. “Yeah, right. Believe me, Stevie,” he said in a low tone, meeting Steve’s eyes so pointedly, it felt like a challenge. “No one’s gonna wanna run away with me, not really.”

So, Steve started putting out hints that he wasn’t planning on staying in Hawkins forever, that he was looking for one good reason to leave, that he would run if Eddie just said so. He started mentioning trying to go to college again, looking at schools elsewhere, as far away from Hawkins, Indiana as possible while staying in the country; throwing in comments about getting an apartment big enough for himself and at least one roommate. Steve always talked about his plans to or around Eddie, and sometimes he would respond and play along before slipping into that deliberately deadpan flirtation.

It was confusing and felt like he was getting nowhere most of the time. Sometimes, though, Eddie would seem so close to taking down the walls around him, to bringing up his feelings, the conversation from the hospital, anything that would finally end Steve’s waiting. At the same time, Steve would wait forever if the alternative was potentially driving Eddie away.

Steve was happy enough with just Eddie’s friendship, even if that was the only type of relationship he would have.

“That’s a mighty serious face you’ve got on, Harrington.”

Jumping, Steve looked over at Eddie as he returned to the bedroom and immediately had to look away.

Eddie was wearing only a pair of boxers, squeezing his hair out with his towel as he wandered closer to where Steve was sitting on the bed. Glancing back at Eddie, Steve looked at the scars that covered his torso, how many of them matched his own, but then there were the scars over his chest and up the thick column of Eddie’s throat. There was nothing Steve wanted more in that moment than to put his mouth and tongue on every single twisted patch of skin.

As Eddie approached and tossed his towel onto the bed, Steve realized he had slipped the handle of a comb into the waistband of his boxers, the line of it following his happy trail. It captivated Steve’s attention for just a few moments too long because suddenly Eddie was standing directly in front of him and clearing his throat.

Looking up at Eddie’s face quickly, Steve smiled weakly at his raised eyebrow. His expression was strange, like he was unimpressed, but it was pinched, almost forced. Eddie’s eyes were wide and bright, and maybe it was just Steve’s own feelings, but there was an almost hopeful look behind them.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked, and Steve nodded quickly, grabbing the comb out of Eddie’s waistband. His fingertips brushed the smooth skin of Eddie’s lower abdomen and Steve was very interested in the way Eddie took a shuddering breath at the contact.

“Yeah, I’m perfect. Just admiring the view,” Steve said with a little smirk. Eddie’s blush was brilliant and the way the corner of his mouth twitched up had Steve’s heart soaring.

Then the hint of a smile turned… cold? It wasn’t mean, but it wasn’t the cute, bashful smile Steve had hoped he’d get.

“Of course, you are, big boy,” Eddie shot back flatly before rolling his eyes and crawling onto the bed, and something sour settled in Steve’s gut. “How do you want me for this, Steve?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Steve leaned back against the wall at the head of Eddie’s bed and patted the space between his legs. “Right here, I guess. Or if you want, you can sit on the floor, and I can braid your hair like that?”

At that, Eddie actually scoffed and threw him a raised eyebrow. “You want me on my knees with your hands in my hair, Harrington?” he asked coolly, his knowing smirk very close to something Steve recognized, but on someone else’s face. Then Eddie did that eyeroll of his and something clicked in Steve’s mind, and he barely registered when Eddie said, “I’ll sit in front of you like this.”

Steve just nodded and muttered quiet instructions for Eddie to move his head here and there as he braided Eddie’s hair—he was doing something Max called a Dutch braid because he thought it would be more Eddie’s style than a French braid—but his mind was stuck on the sarcasm, the eyeroll, the flat flirtation.

It reminded him of Carol but not quite. He could just remember all the times she would have some poor sap following her around, trying to get in her good graces, and the way she would flirt before rolling her eyes to Tommy and him. She would laugh at the boys as they walked away, and most of the time Steve could tell that they never realized she was making fun of them.

Once Steve made that association, it forcibly knocked everything that happened between him and Eddie into a new perspective. God, of course just because Eddie was into men didn’t mean he would be into Steve, and here he had been so fucking obvious and pushy with his crush. He was pushy, overbearing, and apparently couldn’t take the very obvious hints that Eddie had been throwing him all along.

And in hindsight, it was very obvious, Steve just never saw it because he thought Eddie wasn’t like that. Steve thought he actually found someone who wanted him as much as he wanted them, found someone who was direct and vocal about what they did and did not want. In the end, Steve never considered that Eddie might be just as petty as other people he knew, that he would be like everyone else who made fun of him for not keeping up. For having to be told everything out loud and in detail. For not taking hints, reading body language, and being too damn much.

Hurt settled deep in Steve’s core, but it was tangled up in an anger so fierce he had to work hard not to accidentally pull Eddie’s hair. The kids had a grace period for being shitty to him, but adults like Eddie? Absolutely not. He'd put up with too much for too long to take it without calling it out, especially if that’s what was happening.

Steve would rather admit his feelings and ruin their entire friendship forever rather than continue something where he was just the butt of another joke he wasn’t in on.

As he reached the end of the braid, Steve realized he didn’t actually have anything to tie it off, but he could see a hair tie on the bedside table. Leaning over, Steve accidentally yanked on Eddie’s braid, and he hissed.

“Damn, Steve, you haven’t even asked for my safeword yet,” Eddie flirted before chuckling as Steve tied off the braid, and something hot and angry flared in his gut and he opened his mouth to tell Eddie to fuck off.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve asked instead, and he cringed at how embarrassingly small and sad his voice sounded.

The anger that was simmering in his gut was immediately doused by the hurt. It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over Steve’s head and all he had left was the grasping, gnawing want for someone he apparently would never get to have. Suddenly he was standing in a bathroom at a loud Halloween party all over again while the person he loved called him bullshit and said they didn’t love him and never did, and he just wanted to scream about it. Part of Steve wanted to hit something, but he worked very hard to not be that person anymore, so he just balled his fists up in his lap.

“W-what?”

Steve didn’t even realize he was blinking up at the ceiling until he was returning his gaze to Eddie’s face, and the naked confusion Steve saw there was almost comforting.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve repeated, this time a bit more firmly. “If you’re not—if you’re not interested in me, just say so.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Steve—what?” he asked haltingly, and Steve just ran his hands back through his hair.

“C’mon, Eds, I’m—fuck, Eddie, I’ve been trying so hard to follow Wayne’s advice and give you space, and do what I can to show you I’m—I want you so much and I thought you wanted me, too, but you’re just—” Steve stopped himself as his eyes stung with tears and he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “If you aren’t actually interested like I thought, just tell me. I don’t think I can take you laughing at me behind my back, too.”

“Stevie—” Eddie started, but the nickname hit Steve deep and he let out a shaky sob.

“Shit,” he said, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, fighting back the tears. Steve didn’t want to cry at all, but especially not in front of Eddie while he wasn’t certain that he wasn’t being laughed at.

Cool hands were on Steve’s cheeks and a weight settled across his lap. “Stevie, please, can you look at me?” And of course, Steve couldn’t deny him anything, even now.

Dropping his hands and tipping his head back against the wall, Steve looked up at Eddie and willed his tears away. Eddie was a lot closer than Steve expected, even knowing the man was in his lap and holding his face gently.

“I think I’ve been missing something because I didn’t—shit, Stevie, I didn’t know,” Eddie insisted earnestly, his rich brown eyes huge as he searched Steve’s face. “I’ve been fucking… I don’t know, pining for you for months, Stevie. Maybe even years, I don’t know, just—”

“I know,” Steve said miserably, his confusion mingling with his hurt in a nauseating mixture in his stomach, turning his eyes skyward as a tear fell. Eddie immediately caught it with his thumb and wiped it away.

“You know?” Eddie asked, his voice tight and Steve nodded, pinching his nose a bit and sucking in a sharp breath.

“Y-yeah, in the hospital, we talked about scars being hot, and you asked me if I would think your scars are hot—Wayne stopped the conversation,” Steve explained around a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to scare you off, so I just—I was hoping you would see that I feel the same way and finally say something.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry, I don’t—I literally don’t remember a lot of the hospital,” Eddie admitted, and Steve laughed.

“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out,” he said with a sigh, chewing on his lip as he returned his gaze to Eddie’s face. “If you feel the same, why’ve you been pushing me away?”

“Because I’m a coward, Steve. I was running away,” Eddie replied with an explosive sigh, stroking Steve’s cheeks with both thumbs.

“Don’t say you’re a coward, because you’re not,” Steve argued fiercely, hating the way Eddie talked about himself. His interjection just seemed to make Eddie sadder.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t know how much you’ve experienced as a dude into other dudes in a small town like this, but I just—I don’t act on vague gestures, Steve,” he said, and Steve frowned as confusion swirled. “I can’t act on that shit if I want to keep my head from being caved in by angry hicks, okay?”

And that… well, that stung, and Steve felt a moment of frustration at himself for feeling that way. It made sense that Eddie would be afraid; Steve knew exactly what sort of attitudes Eddie would be up against in a town like Hawkins if they knew, or what would happen if Eddie flirted with the wrong guy based on a misunderstanding. Steve got it.

But Steve wasn’t just some guy, he was Eddie’s friend. They almost died multiple times together, Steve helped nurse him back to health. He thought they were close, that Eddie knew he was at least safe to be himself around, even if he didn’t want to be with him.

“Steve?” Eddie pressed, sounding nervous.

Taking a deep breath, Steve nodded a bit. “Th-that makes sense,” he agreed after a few moments, giving a bit of a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just—I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he asked, his huge eyes wide as Steve met his gaze again.

“For whatever I did that made you feel like I would maybe hurt you,” Steve said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I know I was shitty about this in high school, but I thought I’d turned—”

“Steve, fuck, no! That’s not—shit, okay, start over,” Eddie groaned loudly, tipping his head back to whine a bit. “Jesus H Christ, I hate talking about my feelings. This is so fucking hard.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve teased with a chuckle.

“Can you actually close your eyes and not look at me for this, Stevie? I just—I need to say a bunch of shit and I don’t think I can do that with you looking at me,” he confessed after a few moments of silent thinking.

Without hesitation, Steve closed his eyes and relaxed against the wall. “Eyes are closed, not looking at you,” he said quietly and waited.

“I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t hurt me if you found out I was gay, Steve. But there’s—there would be no way to know for sure unless you found out and that not knowing was fucking terrifying,” Eddie said in a rush, and Steve could feel the way he began to shake. “And then there’s—there are guys who say they’re okay with it, but the moment they find out you have feelings for them that’s—the thought that you might be fine with me being gay, but not about my ridiculous crush… I couldn’t risk it.”

Steve could hear the heavy weight of history there, that Eddie wasn’t just talking about a hypothetical scenario he created in his head but a real memory, something formative and traumatic. His heart ached with how badly he wanted to soothe that pain so Eddie never felt like he couldn’t love someone loudly ever again. Of course, he wanted to ask about it, if only because he wanted to know everything about Eddie, and Steve could guess that he would tell him, regardless of how uncomfortable it would make him. That was also a conversation that could happen another time.

Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips, rubbing his thumbs up and down the spurs of his hips. A soft smile came over his face when Eddie jumped at his touch, and Steve sighed with relief when Eddie leaned into it.

“That makes a lot of sense actually,” Steve said, squeezing Eddie’s hips. Then, tentatively, he asked, “Can I hold you?”

Eddie let out a sound that was mostly a sob, but Steve could hear the word ‘yes’ tangled up in it so he quickly wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him tight against his chest. It was still oppressively hot, and they were both sweating, and honestly the way any bare skin that was showing stuck together was unpleasant, but that was alright. It was perfect, because Eddie was in his arms and Steve knew he returned his feelings.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?” Eddie asked as he rested their foreheads together.

“Go ahead,” Steve said instantly, his eyes still closed.

“Why did you think I was making fun of you?” Eddie asked nervously.

Grimacing, Steve shrugged. “I didn’t think you were until today, honestly. It was just—you started rolling your eyes today,” he responded, his mouth twisting. “It reminded me of something someone else would do when she was making fun of guys who had a crush on her.”

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly and the hands still holding Steve’s cheeks didn’t let him shake his head. “No, don’t, it’s—shit, Steve, I should’ve just not flirted with you. Really tried to have my cake and eat it too with all that.”

Steve let out a bark of laughter, squeezing his arms around Eddie even tighter. Eddie practically melted against him, and Steve desperately wanted to look at him again.

“Eds, can I open my eyes now?” Steve asked and, at Eddie’s little nod, he blinked his eyes open. With Eddie’s forehead against his, their faces were way too close, and Steve felt himself go cross-eyed trying to meet Eddie’s gaze. Laughing, Eddie moved to pull back, but Steve lifted a hand to hold the back of his head, keeping him close as he glanced down at Eddie’s lips.

“Steve?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice soft and tentative, almost unsure.

Sighing, Steve leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips as he asked, “Can I kiss you, Eds?”

There was a moment where Eddie tensed, and Steve was getting ready to apologize when those perfect hands slid further back to tangle in his hair. “Want you to know I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he admitted quietly, and something warm and fond bubbled up in Steve’s chest. “Just because I might suck.”

Steve just smiled and shook his head. “You’ll be perfect, I know you will,” he hummed before guiding Eddie’s lips to his own.

[ TBC ]

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Taglist! @patchworkgargoyle @scarcrossdlvrs @steddieas-shegoes @steve-harringtits @mylilplanet @afewproblems @xenon-demon @steddie-there @inairbinad @matchingbatbites @starryeyedjanai @scoops-stevie @vecnuthy @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @rugbertgoeshome @estrellami-1 @spectrum-spectre @stobinesque @spicysix @lets-try-to-be-normal-otakus @sentient-trash @legitcookie @theheadlessphilosopher @corrodedbisexual

#lexssummerfanworkschallenge #steddie #steve/eddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #stranger things fic #gerry writes

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sweetwolfcupcake · 5 months

Text

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2( Finale- Namjoon 1/2)

Masterlist

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline: Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok)

Warnings- Gore, Violence, Grey Characters, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

It was peaceful for a good moment, the moment right before waking up before she noticed how everything felt muffled. Like her ears were covered. It was not particularly hard to open her eyes, but she needed to find her bearings and assess—

Splash!

"Wake up, bitch!"

It was a snarling, rough and raspy voice that did not come naturally, but only through chain smoking and of course, white powder. She opened her eyes, flinching from the numbing coldness and the wet sensation, a few ice cubes hit right above her left eye and she won't be surprised if it left a bruise.

The man starring right at her had eyes that told her that she was the only thorn in his eyes, as if his rotting life was worth any of it.

(Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, while registering that her hands were bound behind her with the chair. Thankfully, her legs were free. Ignoring the man, she looked around, it was nothing out of her expectation– an ominously dark basement, while subtly twisting her wrists to get out of the poorly-knotted ropes.

"Oi! I'm talking to you!"

Beyond a certain distance, there were only still shadows and darkness, casting a sense of uncertainty and unease.

"Listen bitch!" The grip on her cheeks was bruising, his blunt nails dug into her skin, threatening to break it "Had I not have the strict orders, you would have been a sorry pulp by now, I'm hold'n back, so you better show me some respect."

He hissed against her face, his breath reeked of alcohol and smoke. If the feeling of his spit over her mouth was not disgusting enough, his hand moving from his cheek settling on her neck hit the nail. His fingers wrapped around her throat threateningly while the other hand groped her bosom.

"Get your hands off." She deadpanned.

He did take it off, only to slap her with force enough to make her head whip to the side and the corner of her lips bleed.

"Fuck the orders I am going to make sure that I fuck the shit out of you until that sorry cunt bleeds—-"

One kick on his stomach sent him staggering away before he fell to the ground, coughing in pain. But it gave her enough time to untangle the ropes and push the chair away.

She kicked again, making him wheeze in pain and breathlessness.

"And I am telling you to..." She began as she sat on him, pinning down his legs

"Fucking"

One punch right on his eye.

"To"

Another punch on his nose, earning a cry from him.

"Take. Your."

Another punch was enough to send two of his yellow teeth flying out.

"Fucking hands. Off!" She snarled.

With one last punch, he was out. His heart was still beating and her fist was numbing. Those were least of her worries.

With her attempts to calm her rushing adrenaline, she searched him for any clues or weapons.

Thankfully, he had a gun tucked behind him and a key.

The basement, or at least that was what it looked like, was oddly empty. An she refused to believe that Namjoon was foolish enough to underestimate her. He was playing a long game and he was fucking cunning enough to be sneaking right under her nose– pretending to be the best fucking lover while playing her.

With renewed vengeance, she rushed to find an exit– a windows might be better than a door—

And there it was, a single shut window shrouded by the shadows in the dimly-lit basement. After checking the gun, she held it tight and in position as she silently approached the window, moving within the darkness. Tentatively, she nudged-open the window.

Nothing.

It was an empty concrete two floors down but no sign of guards or anything. Could be a security system, she suspected. But whatever it was, she had to get out. A living officer was always better than a dead one.

The thin cotton did not obstruct her vision, she could see everything, slightly blurry, but she could see things.

And she saw the gun being fired.

(Y/N) supressed a hiss when her feet met the concrete, her knees wobbled and ultimately met the ground in the process.

Looking back, she realised that it was indeed an isolated building. But, why was it not guarded if she was kept there? How long was she there?

Questions plagued her mind as she sprinted away from the looming building. It was built on the fringes of a wood, and with the skyline gradually dimming, anyone could tell that it was dusk.

If the lack of people near the building was not ominous enough, it was the fact that she had no one chasing behind and no traps on her way to the main highway that truly made her rethink every other reasons or guesses she had come up with before she found herself there.

She needed to contact her teammates first, warn them, they ought to lay low for a good while. By the time she had reached a clearing, it was pitch dark. And while there were vehicles passing by, none of them cared to stop for a waving girl in the middle of a road.

That was until a vehicle did stop. Peeking in, she found a group of girls, cigarettes in hands and as soon as the car window slid down, a waft of alcohol and cigarettes greeted her. Had she been in uniform, they would have earned a ticket for drinking and driving, but she was desperate and only thankful that they helped her get back to the city.

----

"(Y/N)? We have been trying to contact you!"

Kyong was, thankfully on-duty during the night. He rushed to her as soon as she barged into the police station.

"I know a man of his. Might be someone of importance–cut that, he is important in this fucking nexus!"

"(Y/N)…what are you saying? Relax, breath, please."

"Y-yesterday, when we were reviewing the footage, I saw him. I know him!" Her voice cracked before she burst into dry coughs, the back of her neck aching with each jerks.

Kyong was immediately by her side,

"(Y/N), please slow down, here, sit. Have some water first okay?" He gently made her sit on the nearby bench before offering her some water.

All the strain, all the pain finally rang in her system. While she felt slightly breathless, each breath came with a dull ache that refused to be suppressed. After chugging down over half of the bottle, felt slightly better.

"(Y/N), we have been searching for you since two days."

(Y/N) stilled,

"What? But I—"

She stopped mid-way and frantically checked her clothes.

"Hey, hey hey, relax, okay, relax. Lets get you home, hmm?"

"Kyong, its important, I know one of the men who were present in that club last night."

That caught his attention.

"Why didn't you tell us that time?"

"I was at a fix...I needed confirmation."

"He was with that suspect, speaking about a delivery– most probably drugs." Kyong retorted.

"Namjoon, or that was the name he gave me. But he is– he's definitely involved."

"How do you know him?"

"He...He was my boyfriend. Now I know why he was my boyfriend." She gritted through the last word, feeling contempt burning within herself by even associating that word with the man.

"Why don't you stay a the safehouse for now, it's no longer safe for you out there then, we'll figure something out in the morning. Let me update the rest of the team, they're worried sick."

The safehouse was at the most innocuous location, fairly isolated, but not enough to catch any attention. Kyong had been kind enough to lend her the extra pair of clothes he had saved for his night shifts. He was a meticulous man, after all, and it showed when he made sure to check every nook and cranny of the safehouse and ensure that it was only two of them there.

"Everything you need is in the bathroom and pantry. Just don't step out, okay? And don't answer anyone other than me or the rest of the team. You look tired."

"I'm fucked up. Everything is." (Y/N) muttered, gulping down her tear.

Kyong stood in silence, before patting her back "Look, I don't know what course we take from here, but I know that we are a team, okay?"

(Y/N) could only nod.

—-

The night had the veil of calmness, but the frequently flashing sky gave a warning.

(Y/N) hated the rain. Despised storms.Especially stormy nights.

"Dad—"

"Listen, here, get in here."

Her father opened up a narrow passage and ushered her in, even for a six year old, it was a snug fit.

He shut the net opening before sliding hangers full of clothes over the place.

She could hear faint banging on the door, the rattling of the door knob, that only grey louder...

And louder...

And

BANG!

She woke up wheezing, only to realise that someone was indeed banging on the main door. Wiping the sweat on her forehead and neck, she realised that she had fallen asleep sitting.

"(Y/N), open up, it's me, Kyong." Kyong's muffled voice floated into the sunlit apartment.

Checking her phone, she realised that she had six missed calls from her colleague already.

"Coming!"

She rushed to open the door, only to find Kyong in his uniform still.

"Didn't you go home?"

"(Y/N), you need to come to the station. Now."

"But why? Did you find Namjoon?"

"Listen, I have informed Sir and the rest of the team, they will soon be in the station. We had found a video in our investigation, couldn't keep it from our superiors, you are summoned in the police station for interrogation."

"W-what? But why?"

"Long story, I will brief you on the way, I requested them that I take you there, they were sending someone else."

—---

"Is that you Officer (Y/N)?"

It was a CCTV footage of the same evening she escaped from that abandoned place, but the first-half was cut off, it was only her punching that sorry excuse of a man.

"Yes, he-he was the one keeping me there!" She pointed out.

The two officers, both her seniors straightened up and assessed her. (Y/N) knew that look, they did not believe her. But why?

"(Y/N), that used to be the local police station decades ago. And man you hit, is a retired officer who even won an award for excellency." One of the officers revealed.

They both were her seniors, superiors of Officer Byuk. They were sent from headquarters. She had no idea what deeply wrong had gone in those two days, but Kyong had briefed her.

Apparently there was a wide-search for her when she went missing, no trace. At the same time, there had been two more shipments of cocaine. Successfully. Also, some classified documents from her home were missing.

Namjoon...

Or at least that was his name.

He had been to her apartment so many times, had 'waited' for her to come home a few times. But even once slip of chance was enough, that sneak got too many of them. No wonder she was being interrogated.

"Sir this is not—"

"Officer Lee." Officer Byuk finally made it to the police station, followed by Dok and Han, who stood beside Kyong on the other side of the room.

"Officer Byuk, its nice to see you again." One of the officers– Lee greeted him with stiff smile and a short handshake. "This is officer Hyuk, we have been sent by the headquarters in order to interrogate Officer (L/N)."

"I see, good to meet you Officer." Officer Byuk nodded with a formal handshake with the other officer "I would like to see the proper documents."

"We have orders, from the headquarter Officer." Officer Lee asserted.

"Officer (L/N) trained under me, she is a part of my team. I have the right to know, please," Officer Byuk gestured towards his office.

After a couple of moments of tense silence, the two officers followed him reluctantly, leaving her with her colleagues.

"(Y/N), you alright? We had been so worried!" Dok and Han rushed to her as soon as the officers were out of sight.

"Yes, I'm good. I don't know how...I mean that man he spoke as if he hated the police and I–I had to escape."

"I don't understand..." Kyong spoke up as he neared them "How did they get the footage? The first half-gone. It's no coincidence."

"Some files, regarding the information of officers in charge of dockyards are missing. The copies were with me, and they're gone. Kyong. I fucked up." (Y/N) sighed, running her hand through her hair.

There was nothing but anger and despair. Had she not been so fucking stupid, she could have had Namjoon in the interrogation room instead.

"You're not stupid, we all have major fuck-ups." Dok was quick to comfort his colleague and friend.

"Yes, our superiors have probably had major fuck-ups, but what matters is to how we respond from now on. What has happened, has happened, cannot be undone anymore. But its a war now, team, we only lost the first battle." Kyong encouraged. "We need to alert the stations near docks, they need special security."

"So, what now?" (Y/N) asked the most obvious question.

"Depends, if Sir Byuk manages to convince them of your innocence, there might not be further—"

His words are cut short when the three officers return in the room.

"We have had discussions regarding your involvement in an retired officer's murder."

"Murder?"

She checked, he was breathing!

Officer Byuk shot her a warning glance before recollecting himself.

"We have the footage of you punching him." Officer Lee spoke up "But there are enough loopholes for us to reach a conclusion, like the missing first part of the footage."

"I have had a words with the headquarter and it has been decided..."

She kept her breathe while Officer Byuk spoke.

"That an official investigation would be carried out, until then Officer (L/N), you are not allowed to leave the country, or work here. You are relieved of your responsibilities until proven innocent."

She was innocent!

She wanted to scream out. But at the moment, she chose to do what she must.

Accept the situation with a graceful and stiff salute and bow before giving away her badges and card.

—-------

File after file laid on the floor as she rummaged through her house, all were in place. Except for the few mentioned missing, nothing seemed out of place. No bugs, no more missing files, no camera. Nothing.

Kyong and the rest of the team had assured her that they would prove her innocent and support her. But it was not their battle now, it was not about duty anymore. It was fucking personal.

She had no badge for the time being, no uniform, even the official gun needed to be submitted.

That was not much of a worry though, she had another licenced one. But this...Her job, her uniform meant the world to her and it were all at stake. She wished to be like her father. But everything in front of her was crumbling.

As she looked around in despair, she tried to think though, tried to put aside the cracks she was feeling and—

The doorbell rang.

(Y/N) walked up to the door in caution, making no disturbance as she checked the peep-hole before hurriedly opening the door.

"Sir?"

Officer Byuk walked in, his gaze flickered at the mess behind her before he fixed his stare on her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No Sir. I beat him up because he was the one I found waking up."

And he fucking touched me with his dirty hands.

Officer Byuk spoke up after a moment of silence

"Lets talk over coffee. You have coffee?"

"Yes, yes I have coffee."

She told him everything. How she met Namjoon, how she felt a bit off and how she found out about his involvement with RM.

"You are fool." Officer Byuk had no filter.

She had known him ever since she was a child. Almost at his retirement, the officer had been her father's close friend.

"And if you are already feeling miserable and want to give up then I am disappointed, I did not recruit a weakling."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

There was another stretch of silent as her observed her.

"You have been a fool once, don't be one again by not investigating things yourself. Start from the beginning." He passed her the ID that had been seized before.

"Its temporary, but it may help. I have the original one with me, don't worry."

"I just don't understand...why did he go for me, not some higher up, had that not been more beneficial?"

"We don't understand a lot of things. Like that retired officer's involvement with the underground. That just makes it clear that no once can be trusted. But since you are not serving anymore, at least officially, use this opportunity to get your hands on this Namjoon or whoever that was. He could be our key."

"I don't think its easy."

"Nothing is easy, start by proving yourself innocent. But don't sit here and wait for that snake to strike." he sipped his coffee "Am I clear?"

"Yes Sir!" She straightened.

"Don't disappoint me this time. And here, from now use this sim. Yours is no longer reliable."

He passed her a sim card. He came prepared, because he still had faith on her. And she was grateful to him, to her team who were standing by her while everything was pointing against her.

She would not disappoint them again.

"I give you my word, Sir. No more stupidity."

"Good. Now get to work." he nodded before speaking again " And put more sugar in your coffee from now on. What a bitter taste!"

—---------

Well, she had decided to start from where it all began. First, she tried to have the CCTV footages recovered, only to find out that every six months, the footages are deleted. So she had no footage before six months. While she spent hours looking at each and every footage of her and Namjoon, there was not much to be noticed.

Then she questioned the barista regarding the man who visited the cafe with her often.

"Since how long had he been coming here?"

"Ma'am, quite a while, maybe...six months?"

"More than six months?"

"Could be, I am not sure."

"Has he visited this place this week?"

"No, I don't think so."

Namjoon had vanished from the face of earth. Or so it seemed. Every place she had been to, even the economics professor whose identity he stole, nobody seemed to have much of a clue.

He was smart, she would give him that.

"Yeah?"

"You found something?"

It was Dok on phone while she passed through the busy streets of the city.

"Guess, what, that old hag you punched in the video? We've found something that might help. He was under investigation when he was serving, in the nineties, but he came off clean. I have informed Byuk Sir, come to my home, we review the file, and see if we can find something to put shit on him."

"Great! I'll be on my way."

Finally, finally she had something! Well, at least hopefully.

She had half a mind to inform the rest of the team, but since there was no solid confirmation, she decided not to disturb them.

-----

Dok's apartment was around thirty minutes by bus, along the way, she picked up dinner for them. Her stomach grumbled at the delicious aroma wafting out though the packaging.

Pressing the doorbell, she waited with tapping foot for Dok to answer. She knocked when no one answered for the second time.

"Dok! I am starving already and the food is heavy." She yelled through the door, hoping that he would hurry up.

She rang his doorbell again before calling him this time. The faint sound of his phone ringing floated out, but there was no movement, not even the faint padding of feet or shuffle.

"Dok?" she knocked with urgency this time, growing concerned.

She head the faint slow shuffling. Relieved, she waited for him to open the door so that she could pour out an earful to his lazy—"

Click!

"Dok you—"

The door opened, and the terrified face of her friend greeted her.

"Dok? Dok?" He said nothing through his laboured breathing, falling on her immediately. She help him immediately.

"S-save—"

With a jerk of his body, his head fell back while she had only begun to register the blood all over and an open gash on his back.

"DOK! DOK?"

She realised that had been shot too late, he was not breathing anymore. The blood soaked through her sleeve while the food laid on the round.

"DOK! DO—" She saw a flash of the red dot before it disappeared and without a second thought, she rushed towards the open window

"OI! DON'T HIDE YOU VERMIN!"

With raged eyes and rushed movements, she searched through the line of buildings. But with unshed tears in her eyes and under the veil of the dark night, it was all futile.

—-----

Blue and red lights covered the area near the apartment building and yellow tapes filled the entrance of the apartment. (Y/N) stood numb by Officer Kyong, his overcoat covering her stiff form. Every sound seemed slightly off, every movement felt slow. But this time, he could not keep her tears in. They flowed free as she watched Dok's shrouded body being carried out of the place into an ambulance, the while shroud marred by slight patches of blood.

Han and Kyong held their heads high, not letting a single tear flow out under the weight of the uniform. She felt Officer Byuk's hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"Go home, child." His voice was heavy as he spoke, as if holding himself back.

She stood still, even after the ambulance left, her eyes remained fixed on the spot.

"He had some...He was telling me he found something." Her voice lacked emotion, and strength but that caught Kyong's ears.

"What do you mean?"

(Y/N) licked her lips, recalling the phone call "Dok...He was saying something about finding evidence that would proof my innocence."

Kyong's hands balled into fists.

He nodded, feeling a twinge of resentment bubbling in, but he squashed it immediately.

"This...Whoever..." He began lowly, "Probably has the evidence now."

(Y/N) stood in silence, eyes stilled on the road.

"(Y/N), tell us everything, don't keep anything from us. We already lost a teammate." Han was barely holding back.

"But for now, go home." Kyong advised.

She hummed absentmindedly. Sleep. She needed that.

—---

The rain pelted against the window, fogging it. While the city sky wept, (Y/N) laid on her back in her darkened room with dried tears. Her thumb pressed on the switch of the nightlamp by her bed, only to switch it off after a moment's stillness. It was a pattern that kept repeating, the ceiling lighting up simply, with vague shadows, before plunging into darkness once more.

All she saw was Dok's pained and terrified face in front of her, even with her eyes open. And once she closed them, all she saw was the dreaded night when...

"Dok you—"

The door opened, and the terrified face of her friend greeted her.

"Dok? Dok?" He said nothing through his laboured breathing, falling on her immediately. She helped him immediately.

"Th-thirty four..." he whispered into her ear "Thirty—Ah!...S-save—"

His head jerked back.

She had told the police each and every detail she could remember in her state. But something in her refrained her from revealing this little information. An officer ins trained to distinguish their intuition from any other form of panic and emotion, and rely on that intuition. It was the same intuition that pointed Namjoon out, and it she had been a fool to dismiss initially. She did not want to repeat the past mistakes.

The constant buzzing of her phone snapped her awake. She had not even realised she had dozed off.

With bleary eyes, she picked up the call in a daze.

"Hllw?" She slurred.

But there was no one greeting back. But there was something—

Breathing.

(Y/N) stilled, now alert as she waited with bated breath.

"Hello?" She tested.

The breathing quivered for a moment before slowing down to normalcy again. But there was no verbal reply. But this time, (Y/N) waited.

"Oh Little bird..."

The audacity.

Her hands balled into fists as she sat up straight, in a smooth, steady motion.

"I wish things would not have had to be so hard...But you—"

"Why?" She asked lowly through gritted teeth.

"I was dying to hear this voice" he sighed lightly and paused for a moment "It's business baby, nothing personal. I just hoped that it would not have to be you. The police tries to meddle with our business, we fuck it up royally. But I have an offer for you, little bird..."

She remained silent. She could almost feel his smirk.

"Come to me, lets forget the past. We can be the same again, but this time you have no officers barking orders at you."

"Why this kindness?"

She could hear his shuddering breath again.

"Oh, Darling, you would not believe me if tell you now...But I feel bad for that officer. That made you upset..."

All she could think of was Dok's face and the number he had whispered into her ear.

"You..."

He took a light but sharp intake when she began.

"...Fucked with the wrong person."

With that, she cut the call.

This was not about her duty or the police department anymore. This was personal now.

—-----

"Did you find any device in the apartment?"

(Y/N) was currently at Kyong's place, both of them sitting in the living room with coffee.

"Devices, like what?"

"Dok had called me to inform that he had found something that would proof my innocence. And Just before I can reach him, he...he is murdered."

"So you are saying that he was being spied upon?"

"I have no other explanation right now. If I were the target, why was unharmed? They are trying to pick us out, one by one, they know us, they know the team."

Kyong hummed.

"What if Dok was not the only one being spied upon? The rest us are probably on their hit-list. But I don't understand...You came out unharmed."

"It was a set up. They framed me for murder of a retired officer, they made sure to kill Dok in front of me. Its psychological game they're playing."

"In every way, you were the one present there so the suspicion would point at you."

Her mind went back to the call. What was the purpose of it?

What did he want? What did his boss want?

"Keep an eye out for danger, alert your family and friends as well, better to put some officers for their safety. We need the help of the intelligence department Kyong, this is not a police-thief hide and seek. It's a war."

The road was isolated, but as much as she remembered, it was the same road she escaped through. It was dark again, and she knew that it was expected of her to return to that place. But she had no option, her Kyong and Han had no other option. Under the night sky, everything seemed off.

"Lets park our car here, if we take it into the woods, people might be alerted if they are there." (Y/N) suggested.

As soon as they were out of the vehicle parked safely out of sight, they mingled into the woods. Dead leaves crunched under their shoes as (Y/N) led them further in.

"Are you sure that this is the place?" Kyong asked as they ventured deeper into the woods.

"As much as I remember, yes?"

"Remember? (Y/N), do you realise that one of our teammates is dead and we have guns over our heads, and if we don't find them first, we will be dead!"

Kyong was frustrated, and no matter how much he wanted to keep those thoughts away, they were bleeding through his subconscious.

Clouds of breaths escaped (Y/N)'s lips at that. She understood him, she understood his fears and where he was coming from. But she also knew that there was no other way but to tread in the darkness until they find an anchor, a clue– something, anything.

"I know how this feels—"

"No, you don't. Dok is dead (Y/N)."

"I know he is and it kills me!"

"Okay, you both– we are going to alert people if we keep raising our voice at each other. Dok is no more and they have hit us right where it hurts. There is nothing that can be done until and unless we find this...RM. Whoever it is, they had Dok killed, they had (Y/N) kidnapped and they are waiting to pounce again."

Han's words had both of them looking away. Kyong pushed his hair back– he had never felt helpless and frustrated to this extent.

"Let's...let's keep going, the place is here somewhere."

With that, she resumed walking ahead.

(Y/N) recognised the silhouette of the building from a distance. She signalled the rest of her teammates before the three split up. Taking cover of the darkness and the trees, they stalked closer to the building. It stood with an innocuous appearance, but (Y/N) knew better.

She signalled Han to follow her before swiftly and stealthily making her way towards the building walls. Attaching herself with one of the walls, she watched as Han moved to the opposite walls. After the entrance was surrounded, Kyong moved straight to the entrance of the building.

Both (Y/N) and Han peeked out as Kyong inspected the entrance before giving them clearance and entering, they followed, all of their guns intact and pointed in front of them.

"Number three, anything important? Over."

(Y/N) asked through her headphone as she searched the upper level of the building, kicking open empty doors, expecting to find something but there was—

"No, all three rooms all clear." Han replied.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused her flashlight over a dusty desk. Everything in the place was covered with dust and cobwebs except the half-burnt cigarette. Her gloved hand picked it before sniffing.

Realisation struck her as she shoved the cigarette into her pocket before rushing out of the room.

"Number three, number two, danger incoming 10-0, copy that!" Her eye scanned the area for people before she found gliding through the walls. On the ground floor. She duked in immediately but continued to move.

"Number six, message received."

"I see them moving, take cover!"

She descended with stealth to the ground floor, following the men. Watching them closely, she loaded her gun in silence. Deciding the wall was a good enough cover, she switched to Kyong once more.

"Shoot!"

And with that, bullets surrounded those criminals from both their sides, catching them off guard. They did not intend to kill all of them. She heard some glass shattering from upstairs.

Four out of the five men were down, the other had taken cover behind a wall.

A bullet shattered the glass behind her. She was exposed to the people above.

With no choice, she backed away into a safer cover. while the other man made a run for it

Left with no other choice, (Y/N) chased him into the woods. She faintly heard Kyong's warning call for her but that did not matter. Nothing matters but to take back that man alive. It was a trap and he would be the one proving it. This chase could be a trap as well. But worth the risk.

The bushes, leaves and brushed past her in a swift blurs of sounds and sensations as she chased him. All she could think of was Namjoon's deceptive smile and Dok's dying face.

He was a quick runner and a dodger. The rock he hurled at her came flying towards her, she was quick enough to save her head but it hit her shoulder. And did it hurt bad.

(Y/N) gasped and stumbled due to the jolting pain.

It was just moment before adrenaline pushed her to resume the chase. He took a sharp turn and she almost stumbled before following him.

It was muddy slope with a bubbling creep a few feet deep when she finally grabbed him by his shoulder.

He elbowed her injured shoulder kicked on her stomach, sending her doubling over. This was enough for her grasp to loosen, giving him an opportunity to escape.

He had made it to the creek, his legs ran fast to cross the creek, stumbling a little before—

"ARGH!"

He cried out as the clear water of the creek darkened with crimson. He clutched the side of his knee, but could not stop the blood from gushing out.

His hand reached out for the gun tucked behind him but a heavy boot pressed down on his hand, making him cry out.

"I have him. Over."

(Y/N) informed her teammates, slightly breathless, but keeping her boot pressed on his hand.

---

"There was no need to tie a cloth over the wound, won't say a fucking word!" Han was growing frustrated.

The tied man only grinned through his bloodied teeth. It was quickly becoming clear that it was not his first time being interrogated.

"I'm being nice for the last time— who do you work for?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth.

Her shoulder and throbbed and felt slightly heavy, but the tied up man was the potential key to prove her innocence and to get her hands on Namjoon.

No, her main target was RM, Namjoon could be dealt with later.

She shook his thoughts out of her mind and straightened up.

"And if I don't?" He asked, breathless from the pain. "You can't even arrest me." He cackled at their face

"Listen you little shit—"

Kyong was about to pounce on him but (Y/N) stopped him.

"Kyong, we need to handle this carefully if the department comes to know—"

"So what?! What more can happen? Dok is fucking dead already and they were here to kill us too."

"And that is exactly why we must be calm!" (Y/N) asserted, but Kyong only scoffed and looked away with disdain.

"(Y/N), they knew we were here. They were fucking waiting, that's why you found the bloody cigarette! We are risking our lives just to prove YOU innocent!"

"Kyong! Stop it, we are a team." Han interjected.

"Han, Dok is fucking dead trying to prove her innocent." He shoved a finger at her" Important files are missing from her home because she blindly trusted a fucking criminal! Why didn't you cross-check his identity first? Are you that incapable? So fucking blind? It cost US! The WHOLE FUCKING DEPARTMENT! Byuk Sir is under fire because of her sloppiness!."

"Kyong—" Han tried to intervene.

"No what the hell are we doing? She almost led us to our doom!"

"Kyong stop it!"

"WHY SHOULD WE? Does she even realise what her love affair has cost us?" Kyong screamed his anguish out on her.

(Y/N) stood still. His words hit her, but she would not show it. She had lost enough for showing her vulnerability to people.

"I know how difficult the situation is."

She began, calm and reserved.

"And I promise you both–"

"What are you? Five? We don't want fucking promises (Y/N), we need results." Kyong spat

(Y/N) sucked her cheeks, maintaining her cool.

"I promise you both...if anything goes wrong, it will be only me who gets under fire. I take all the responsibility. But now, we must work together. This is exactly what they want, for us to lose faith in ourselves." She whispered to Kyong, quiet but assertive.

Kyong's gaze locked with hers in a hard, long stare before he looked away.

"I need a smoke. Get him to talk."

With that, he left the room.

(Y/N) and Han turned to the man sitting against the wall. Amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Pathetic, aren't ya'll?"

"You really are asking for broken bones, huh?" Han gritted out.

"You think a brushed bullet can get me to speak? Years ago, another officer tried to be all macho and righteous." He chuckled and sniffle "Shot dead in his home...So think again fools."

Han kicked him on his stomach, making him double over and cough out saliva, but he sniggered.

Han was about to kick him again when (Y/N) chuckled out, shaking her had. Her eyes were a cold but sure warning as she licked her lips. The previously amused grin vanished from the man's face at the sight of her sharp smile with a shaking head.

"You have, never been properly interrogated before."

She whispered out, stalking towards the now alert male while her colleague stepped away.(Y/N)'s hands rested in her pockets, painting the most deceptively casual picture. But as she sat to his level, looking at his eyes, the man stiffened.

Wordlessly, she took his right hand, unbothered by his violent struggles as she held his forefinger, before her other hand brought a needle and pushed the pointed end right under his fingernail, earning a blood-curling scream from the man.

Kyong rushed in, but only watched from the doorway as the man writhed and shook under her unrelenting hold and cold gaze. He wheezed when she took the bloodied pin out, only to thrust it again with greater force, making the man wail out. She moved her leg and pressed against his wounded knee as he gasped and shook, crying out for mercy.

"Who sent you?"

"We—W-we got orders—right–high–higher up–higher up–aaagh!!"

He gasped out.

"Who do you work for?"

"H–Henchin–Lee Henchin—"

"He is only the drug peddler. Who is he working for?"

She took out the pin before moving to his next finger, thrusting the pin underneath the fresh fingernail, he cried out again.

"I don't k–Knowww eeeaAAa!" He wailed

"I am going to put this pin right through you eardrum if I hear this bullshit again."

She sounded like she was explaining a life lesson.

"I really—I r–really don't know!" He wheezed out, gasping as she twisted the needle, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay...Who are his biggest suppliers?"

"H–H–be–we–we collect from hyve–hah"

"What was that?" She leaned in closer

"Hybe...we collect from there—aah!"

She finally let go of his hand and wiped the needle off his blood.

-----

"Lee Henchin? We have no evidence against him, he runs two very exclusive clubs and has a restaurant under his name, but he is a big name (Y/N), I can't just allow that."

"But Sir that man did take Lee Henchin's name, we even recorded his confession—"

"By using violence? You know that it would not work. Besides, Henchin's a big name, we have some clue of his association with prominent yakuzas. I am not letting you three meddle into that."

"But Sir, this is our golden chance. He is going to bring us closer to this RM." (Y/N) almost could not believe what she was hearing, but after Dok's death, she knew where Officer Byuk was coming from.

"No (Y/N), you think we have not tried to get to that little rat? We lost two men, not even their families were spared. You have no idea how deep these roots run."

"Three, Sir. We lost three officers in the span of seventeen years."

Officer Byuk looked at her, surprised.

"And so we need to pull these roots out once and for all."

She added.

"You think its easy?"

(Y/N) looked away, having no answer to that. She went straight to Officer Byuk's residence after the 'interrogation'. It was deemed dangerous for the three to travel together to an officer's house.

"Sir...Dok is dead, our teammate is dead and we know who did this."

"And you three will be too if you go after him. We originally started this mission to know about RM's connections, we found that. And we stop here, this would be passed to the higher ups."

"And it will stay there on some unknown desk collecting dust. We know that too Sir."

Officer locked her gaze with a stern stare.

"I am not ready to lose more of my able officers. There is already an investigation going over you, focus on finding evidence against that officer's connection with the underworld."

"But that is connected to this! Henchin might be out key to prove my innocence."

"That would not help as much as you like to think. None of you are going to go after Lee Henchin. Am I understood?"

(Y/N) stared back, frustrated, angry, but silent.

"Yes, Sir."

-----

"Why did we just leave out phones in our cars?" Kyong was visibly annoyed, but had complied to (Y/N)'s demand.

"Because, I think our phones are being tapped."

(Y/N) replied before sipping her tea. She missed a good cup of that. When she...was with Namjoon, she had introduced coffee to her regular diet. Not replacing her tea, but reducing the consumption.

That man had crawled into her mind.

"Well, how did they know that Dok had some important evidence? And when we went to the same spot I woke up in?"

"So you called us here for this?" Kyong had been cold ever since their fight, and while (Y/N) had tried to be understanding, his behaviour was getting on her nerves.

"I am not found of wasting people's time, Kyong. I called you all to tell you that Officer Byuk will not allow us to go after Henchin."

"WHAT?"

"Why?"

"Guys, keep it low." She hissed, avoiding all the glances and turned heads in the cafe.

"But—but we have his name...Henchin can be a key to prove your innocence as well (Y/N)."

"I know Han. But Henchin, has a record. Most of the cases against him and his pubs are either inconclusive, cold or abruptly closed. There were officers who went behind him, they are all dead. Byuk Sir just does not want to risk our lives."

"But, we are fucking close." Kyong hissed

"We already are taking on this mission without any supervision from the higher ups. He says that he would be sending the details to the intelligence."

"So Dok's death means nothing to them?"

Kyong was understandably upset

"I don't know about them. But we care." (Y/N) reassured.

"But Sir just dismissed any further action."

(Y/N) hummed at Han's words before picking up her filled cup and taking another sip.

She looked at the two, their eyes held question, but also resilience.

"Sometimes...duty comes first, obedience to authority, second."

There were three officers dead in the span of twenty and four years. One, five years ago, second, twelve years ago. And third...seventeen years ago.

Seventeen years ago when she was a six year old child, and she witnessed her father's death.

Because he was the first office to go behind Lee Henchin.

"We will go. Lets start planning."

-----

"Are you sure he would be present in this club tonight?"

After tracking him for a week, they finally had his schedule. Thanks to the informants.

"I'm 99% sure." Kyong replied.

"What do you mean by 99%?" Han was visibly tense.

"Relax, we can never be 100% sure of anything here, can we?" (Y/N) assured him, eyeing the area with a mask of normalcy.

The tree of them came here as any other guest looking to rewind a bit. It was easy to acquire false names and use false information. The club was booming with life, a Friday night in all its glory— messy, lewd, merry, drunk and dancing– everything all at once.

"The VIP and VVIP section is on the first floor, the second floor is off limits, the basement harbours the storeroom an kitchen. Keep eyes on all those heading up. And keep in touch. I will go mingle into the crown from the front, you both choose either corners."

(Y/N) decided, the two nodded before the three separated, moving to their chosen directions. With her mask on and eyes done, (Y/N) made sure to take on a disguise. Her eyes wandered away as she danced her way to the centre, among the crowd of swaying, jumping bodies and flashing lights, all she could see were people who either wanted to burn, or escape, or perhaps both.

Calmly, she ran her eyes over the place, brushing away intruding strangers and drunk office workers. It was a glamorous place, it was a sorry place, it was a safe place for 'deals'.

"Attention, suspect spotted, going up, follow. Over." Han's voice cut through the thrumming music.

"Received, following."

The first floor was quieter, but not untouched by the loud music below. Kyong motioned them to to stay on the darker portions, avoiding cameras. One of their informants worked as a bouncer there. Had it not been for him, they would have no weapons to defend themselves.

The three followed as the three men, surrounded by two bodyguards ascended further. Second floor.

Kyong motioned towards the bathroom before walking in.

If the second floor was off limits, the stair would be the worst way to take. So they had to climb through the bathroom window into the store room of the second floor. Kyong opened the window and entered quietly, only after he was sure everything was clear, signalled for the two to follow. The room was dark, but clear of any threat for now. The informant needed to be rewarded heavily. With practiced stealth, the three made their way out, staying close to the wall, waiting.

A guard entered the seemingly empty hallway, only to be pulled by the neck into another sharp corner, the back of a gun came down heavily on his head, knocking him out immediately.

Han motioned his teammates with a positive sign as the unconscious guards slid down the wall. Dragging his body into an empty room, he took hold of the card required to unlock rooms. They were playing with fire. But it was an absolute necessity.

As they passed through the seemingly empty hallway, in search of those—

"Team."

Kyong and Han turned to (Y/N) who stood a few feet behind, eyeing a certain door.

"What is it?"

"I think this is the room."

"How do you know?" Kyong eyed the room.

"Yes, we can't be sure." Han added.

"You are right. Do one thing, you two go ahead, I will check this room."

"(Y/N), are you out of your fucking mind?" Kyong hissed "We can't just—"

"I will keep you updated."

She assured them, leaning in to check. So far, silence. Slowly, she pushed the door open to peek in.

Empty.

"Go. We have limited time."

She urged before they could speak up.

Glancing at the room number once last time, she slid in with caution.

Room number 34.

Had it been a pitch black room, she would not have take much of a risk. But the room was unlocked and dimly-lit. An indication that someone was about to come in, or had recently exited. Using the closet to hide, she slid behind the hanging towels and some washed curtains. The gaps in the door design allowed her unobstructed view of the room.

"In the room, watching. Clear for now. Copy that."

She informed her colleagues through the interconnected earbud before checking the number of spare bullets hidden in her shoes.

Now all was left was to wait. Patience would bear fruits. Or something like that along the lines.

She waited patiently for over an hour–still and quiet until the door the the room finally opened. And the room was illuminated further. Leaning away more into the darkness of the closet, her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps.

And finally, the person was right in her viewing range.

"Any updates?"

Kyong's voice rang in her ear. But she did not reply, she could not.

"Number six. Any update?" This time, it was Han.

"Number two and three...take shelter. Over."

She whispered to the earbud, while her eyes watched the man in front of her.

Officer Byuk.

He made himself comfortable over a cushioned chair by the window in the room after taking out a bottle from the mini fridge in the room. But he took out two glasses and did not uncork the bottle.

She waited in the closet another hour with anticipation before she heard a knock. Byuk instantly rose up and went to answer the door.

"Hello Officer Byuk."

The voice had her tightening her grip on her gun. Ready to shoot.

"Finally, come in please."

She waited with bated breath before the second man came into her viewing range, right in front of her.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Officer."

Namjoon's voice was deeper than she remembered, a gravelly edge that somehow made him sound exactly like the cold-blooded criminal that he was.

"Lee said he's on his way. He will join us shortly." Byuk spoke up, motioning towards the set table.

"Let's wait for Lee." Namjoon offered.

"No alcohol for him today, he's on antibiotics he said." Byuk replied, finally uncorking the bottle and filling the glasses.

"Any new updates?"

"The officers were close. But now that the threat is diffused, I think Lee needs to lay low for a while, some of the officers might not let this go." Byuk replied, sipping on his drink.

Namjoon only hummed.

He lookers slightly different than a month—

One and a half month. It had been almost one and a half month since she had last seen him. All she remembered how lively, kind and gentle he looked. But the man she was looking at now had a sinister edge to him. He always had that, he simply hid that well. He was no longer sporting hair she had last seen him with. It was cut short, somehow enhancing the sense of danger that shadowed his presence.

Her eyes moved from him to Byuk– Uncle Byuk– the man she trusted the most in the world. The one man she had put her blind trust on. She exhaled slowly, trying to keep her bubbling rage at bay as she began to connect the dots.

"Number two and three."

There was no response.

"Number two and three?" She hissed, turning tense with each passing moment.

She loaded her gun noiselessly. Something had gone wrong.

Byuk's phone rang.

"Please excuse me." With that, he picked up the phone and listened. "Shit!" he hissed, cutting the call. "I think I need to get out of here, there are two officers in disguise in this building, I will order them to shoot them at sight."

"Don't kill them now." Namjoon spoke up before rising from his chair, Byuk followed "And there are not two officers, but three."

With that Namjoon marched up to the closet and swung the door open, making her gasp. Before she could injure him, he grabbed her wrist and dropped the gun to his hold.

"Tch, that's dangerous little bird."

The nickname made her sick.

"Think of your friends before you do something."

He whispered coldly while dodging her attacks. Byuk stood there, pale as soon as (Y/N)'s gaze found his while she struggled in Namjoon's hold.

"Easy, Little Bird, we just met, what's the hurry?"

This little shit!

"She will kill us Sir, finish her!"

Byuk's words were the final nail on the coffin. She wanted the write the ending, but perhaps fate had other plans. She could only pray that Kyong and Han get away safely.

"Mind your words, Byuk."

Namjoon's voice dipped lower and Byuk visibly gulped.

"Bu–but she knows now."

At that, Namjoon looked down at her. Finding her eyes still on that imbecile, he gripped her cheeks and compelled her to look at him.

"But she won't let anything happen to her friends, would she? Lee's men already have them. And all they need is a nod from me."

She hated being close to him, and she hated herself even more for realising that she missed him, she missed his proximity, his touch, his eyes, his smile, she missed his voice. She missed him.

His thumb rubbed her cheek with a softness she had yearned for one and a half month. And at that moment, she wished that he were a different man, she wished she never met him, she wished that she never fell in love with him.

"What do you say Little Bird?"

His hold on her was firm– there was no use of struggling anyway, one phone call and Kyong and Han would meet Dok's fate.

He leaned closer, his fingers on her cheeks effectively preventing her to move away. It was an ambiguous feeling when she felt him inhaled a long, sharp breath before breathing into her. Their breath mixing was like a reaction set to scatter the world around.

"My offer still stands, Little Bird. But of course, the choice is yours."

His voice was milk and honey, a mocking smirk on her predicament.

"Sir, we have the two officers." A new voice emerged from the entrance and he finally let go.

She turned to look at the man she had only seen pictures of. But his presence filled her with a sense of disgust she never knew she possessed.

Lee Henchin was an aged up man now, but the wicked shadow he possessed overpowered the room. He glanced her her with a curious tilt of his head

"This one could do for the VVIP clients. One of the girls escaped, we need a replacement anyway for tomorrow."

She felt cold, but the sheer amount of hatred in her urged her to break his face. Maybe take out his teeth– one at a time.

"The Lady is not for sale, Lee." She shivered when Namjoon growled from behind, pulling her closer to him.

And as she watched Lee Henchin's previously confident stan falter subtly, she understood who pulled the shots in the room.

"You can do whatever you want with the rest of them though." Namjoon added.

She tensed at that, and he felt it too, she knew that when he asked her

"Isn't that right, little bird?"

The silence was only a beat long, but it held oceans within.

"Offer accepted." She muttered out begrudgingly.

"What was that honey?" He rose an eyebrow, barely containing his smirk.

She would have slapped that smirk away had it not been Han and Kyong's life at stake.

"I accept your offer. But you will let them go safe, in one piece. And they will never be bothered again."

She looked up to meet his eyes– the deep brooding eyes that reminded her of unwritten poetry and hidden classics read on rainy days were now swirls of storms themselves– all the harsh murky days, the hovering, ominous clouds, the sharp, sudden thunderbolts and the deep rumble that followed.

"Lee, tell your men to release the two. Throw them out of the club."

"Uh–I did not know that she was—"

"Officer Byuk!" His voice rose, cutting Henchin off "Make sure the two never reach here, or me sniffing."

"As you wish, Sir."

He took a completely different way out to reach his car. His hand though gripped hers. Outside stood an imposing car in the middle of two others. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for her, keeping a close eye as she settled into the farthest corner.

But he was least bothered by that. He finally had her in his grapes, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm sorry Little Bird but I can't quite trust you so soon." He urged her to give her hands, keeping his voice gentle.

She should know that he meant no harm. He was not the villain, the world was. She narrowed her eyes at him.

(Y/N) knew that she had no choice, not at the moment at least. It was narrow path and the only way was the way ahead. If she was going to die...Well she did not know anymore. Namjoon's behaviour was odd so far, it kept her guessing.

Swallowing the bitter pill, she placed her hands on his tentatively, only for him to lock them behind her. The coldness came engulfed her wrists soon after.

What a fucking irony.

The cop being handcuffed.

She ground her teeth to keep herself from reacting the way she truly wanted.

"What—"

Just as she thought that it was over, a black cloth over hear eyes rendered her blind, making her jump, ready to spring into action. But Namjoon's hold on her tightened.

"Shhh, take it as safety measures, Jagi, nothing else."

He cooed at, tying over the blindfold.

"It's' not necessary, I can't go back anyway." (Y/N) felt the simmers of panic in her belly.

"I know Jagi. But I don't take chances with capable people."

It felt simultaneously like a warning and compliment. Perhaps it was. He knew her capacity, and he was not taking any chances. With a defeated sigh, she leaned on the expensive leather of the car, feeling the engine rumbling into life before the slightest jerk indicted that the car was now in motion.

----

The villa was settled near an isolated road that harboured a stretch of moor on the other side, beyond which laid a highway cutting through a small woodland. And the housekeeper made excellent tea.

There were five of them— those visible at least– her, Namjoon, the housekeeper, a maid and a cook.

A month in the place, (Y/N) at least knew that Namjoon held a high position—Namjoon was his real name after all and it was a stupid as well as smartest move to pull, given that he was, at least very close to the highest and he had spied on her and the department for a long period of time. No one would assume that he used hi real name, criminals never used their real names. She was, though yet to decipher how many of them were hiding in the woods.

"More tea, Madame?" The housekeeper who has been adamant to not tell her his real name, offered to refill her empty cup.

"Thank you, Pep."

(Y/N) nodded to him, smiling faintly as he refilled her cup for the second time.

"No more mooncakes, Pep, I want my tea just as it is."

"Sure." He put away the mooncakes, while she sipped on the tea, watching the wind sweep through the moor in orchid waves.

She kept her eyes on the scene outside, while her ears strained to hear Namjoon on the phone. But he was inside the house and the walls were soundproof.

It had only been a month but to her, it felt like a decade since she had gone to work. Everyday, before her eyes would battle against sleep, all she could think of was Uncle Byuks' betrayal and Lee Henchin.

Lee Henchin...

"I am so sorry, Jagi. My absence sometimes hurts the business."

Namjoon walked up to her with his pretentious apology.

"Why bother to stay back then? Your blood money flow is affected."

He only smiled at her words before turning to the housekeeper. Taking the clue, Pep walked away, leaving the two alone.

"Nothing, (Y/N), is more important than you."

"I don't understand this game..."

And really, she did not. She had no more information to give him. Officer Byuk knew more than her. Had more access. Then why was he even interested in her?

"I did come close to you with the intention to be closer to the ground and have some files." Namjoon confessed, looking away to the moors while he sipped his coffee.

"But even if you don't believe me, Little Bird, I fell, and I fell hard and stupid in love with you." He eyed her for moment before his gaze dropped on his share of mooncakes.

He loved everything sweet, she had learnt.

"Even if you don't believe me, I do not blame you. We have a lifetime to ourselves."

" That's very confident for man who has a boss to answer. What would RM think when they come to know that you an officer?"

Namjoon leaned back, not even a flicker of doubt passing on his face.

"I don't answer, Little Bird."

She frowned and put her cup down.

"Why?"

He smiled indulgently at her, but to her, it felt condescending.

"I don't answer to anyone, Love. People answer to me...I am RM."

She felt cold and parched all over.

—-----

Kyong bit into his apple while his eyes remained on the screen in front of him. No, he refused to believe that (Y/N) was dead, as 'evidence' had shown. He would not have believed that Dok was dead had he not seen his body himself. But (Y/N)...He had not seen her body. It was only her gun–bloodied gun. But again, there was no confirmation whose blood was that.

That was a work too lousy to be professional. It was a cover up, and a poor cover up if he may add.

And he won't be at rest until he finds out where (Y/N) was bring her back.

—--

"I'm dead?"

(Y/N) whispered in disbelief as she watched the tv screen. It was a follow up news. And she, like those cold cases piled up inside shelves, was herself reduced to one of them— a cold case that may fascinate many, but not bother any.

"Who put backs news channels here?" RM hissed at Pep who stuttered in his presence.

"I fixed a monthly plan, they must have added—"

"Take that down. Now."

Her name and face was long gone from the screen. Like a flipped page, it was another day, another news, another race for TRP.

But her cheeks trembled.

She was dead to the world, her traces, her existence was wiped out. Even if she were really dead, there was no family to grieve for her. The only person closest to be called a family was the one to give her one final blow.

"Hey, hey, its just to make sure that no one comes after you, yeah? And we can start afresh."

Namjoon's face shielded the screen as he cupped her cheeks, eyes searching–trying to read her, reassure her. Make her feel the safety she never would. Switching the television off, he focused on her again.

"Don't think too much about that, okay? Why don't we..." looking around, he whirred his brain before his eyes landed on a golden wrapper "Why don't we make chocolate together? Hmm? You love baking right? We can bake later."

As if that would help. She was spiralling and she was spiralling fast.

She let him lead her to the kitchen while Pep hurriedly helped to set the ingredients. But her mind was running far away. Was there, really no choice? No hope for freedom?

—---

"It's cold, wear a coat."

Were Namjoon's first words as soon as he was back from his home office and into the bedroom.

"But, we are alright inside?"

(Y/N) was confused. Anybody could tell that it was cold by the blanket of snow covering the moor, some browns still peeking out, but over all, it all stretched white.

"We are going out for a walk." Namjoon smiled at her. The surprise must have been apparent as she put away the book she was reading and sat up straighter.

"Like, now?" Her eye widened in surprise.

He nodded, watching her closely, but there was a softness that did remind her of their older days, but it held something different, something more. She was, finally having the chance to step out of the place after two whole months, and there was no way that she would let this opportunity go. But there was a part of her that seeped in disbelief and suspicion.

Why would he risk it so soon? There had been no indication of him beginning to trust her. Then why?

"I know that the news of...your death charade was a bit too much. But I did what I thought was an absolute necessity. But I cannot bear to see you sad, Little Bird." He walked closer, sitting on his knees to meet her eyes.

He waited for a verbal response, but there came none. She only nodded.

The sound of snow crunching had something satisfactory in it. And as they walked through the snow. Namjoon pulled up the warm scarf.

"Its cold, Jagi, be careful."

(Y/N) nodded and fixed the scarf over her nose as they walked through the snow-covered moor, towards the white woods. His hold remained firm over her other hand though. Fingers intertwining, slithered between the gaps like he had slithered in her life.

Namjoon could not help but look at her with fondness. Even though there was no trace of a complete smile, there was a ghost of it somewhere— a spark in her eyes that had been somewhat dimmed in the past month. Namjoon hated that. He knew that he had hurt her and things had been going hard enough as it was. But, the news headlines about her (faked) death might have been the final hit. She was crumbling, and Namjoon hated that. She had suffered enough. He could always deal with Henchin and Byuk later. But she was his priority.

He kept a close eye on her, while his hand squeezed her gloved ones every now and then as they walked closer to the woods.

"Its a pretty sight."

"You like it?"

Of course she did, the way her eyes took in every detail, it was clear as day that she loved the winter wonderland the small woods would turn into.

"We can..." He weighed his options "We can come here everyday if you like?"

Without another word, she kept walking, her eyes fixed on the ground as they passed through the trees.

"What are you looking at?"

"Huh? Sorry just—what did you say?"

Namjoon observed her a moment before looking away, "Lets go back."

"So soon?"

"Hmm, I don't want you catching cold."

Tugging her to take a turn, he strode back to the villa. His grip, even through the gloves felt tight. Once back, he ordered Pep to prepare tea for them before marching back to the room.

"Is that what you have planned for me? To be your prisoner?"

Even after two months, nothing changed, and her patience was waning."

Namjoon looked up from his tea, eyes gleaming before he put the cup down and sat up straighter.

"You are no prisoner little bird, don't call yourself that. Did you not hear my offer?"

"I accepted your offer. I am here with you, on your whim, in return of my friends' lives."

"No, that's not it. I told you, come with me, you will have more power than a miserable uniform can ever give you. And by now, I assume you know that the silly ideals you were holding onto, hold no place there."

She stared back at him defiantly as she slowly sipped her tea.

"These 'silly ideals took us to Henchin'. We had him that night..."

"Until I appeared."

"Until you appeared."

"And he still lives."

"He is useful to me (Y/N)."

He killed my father.

He fucking. Killed. My. Father.

In silence, she sipped her tea.

—------

"Why didn't you accept the invitation, it has been a while since we've gone out drinking?"

Han walked along with Kyong, who strode to rush out of the police station as soon as he could.

"I'm not in the mood Han?"

"You said the same last week."

Kyong finally stopped "Because I was not in the mood to go drinking last week too." he sighed out, annoyed.

"Okay, how about this Sunday? You and me?"

"Han, I'm busy this Sunday."

"You dating, man?"

Kyong sighed at the question

"No–I am—Listen Han—"

"No because there is something bothering you. Look, Kyong, I know that losing both of our friends like that is and has been hard so far. It has been three months since (Y/N)'s..." He eyed Kyong cautiously, who only threw him a withering glare before looking away "(Y/N)'s demise."

"Han...Let's not talk about that."

"This is exactly what we need to talk about— first Dok and now (Y/N). I feel guilty too. She sacrificed herself. Lee was going to kill us but—"

"I fought with her, okay? I doubted her, she was the one in trouble and instead of being understanding, I blamed her for Dok's death! That–" he pointed his finger down, moving it with force "— is guilt!"

"Kyong...You can't let this consume you forever, can you?"

Kyong did not reply. (Y/N) was alive. And he was going to bring her back, even from the depths of hell if it were to be.

—-----

The gentle snowfall had now turned to occasional blizzards that left a good few feet of snow for days. It was no surprise to her that their daily walks were suspended. But it did come as a surprise when she woke up one a gloomy morning, only to see Namjoon all dressed up.

"Good morning little bird, did you have a good sleep?" He turned to her as soon as she had begun to sit up.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Me, not you." Namjoon replied, fixing his cufflinks "Be good for me while I'm gone,"

His voice was airy as he approached her to place a delicate kiss on her forehead. Yet his eyes were another story— they held a clear warning.

"The blood-business needs the big bad mafia?"

"Business is business, Jagi. There is only profit, loss and sides. Nothing else."

"So it is important."

"The maid has prepared breakfast, if you want, I can have it brought up." He diverted the topic

"No, thanks, I will take it downstairs."

"Okay. I might be late, do not wait up for me. Sleep on time, okay?"

She looked up to him before looking away with a dismissive nod.

Namjoon sighed, "Things would have been different had you just taken up my offer."

"I am here, am I not?"

"Not willingly. You are holding on some stupid ideals."

"Why must I trust you? You broke my heart– they are my friends who stayed with me. I am not holding on to any ideals anymore Namjoon"

I have a purpose.

Namjoon sucked his cheeks– a tell tale sign of his draining patience. He was a patient man, she would give him that– and perhaps it was the calmness he executed his plans, no matter how cruel– that sent sent chills cascading down her. He was not the one to run with impulse, rather, with a cold, meticulous plan.

All the more difficult to decipher.

Namjoon was a man to not mess with. And while he was an extremely patient man, every man had a fuse. She was in no position to try her luck.

Wanting to be out of the situation, she got off the bed and tried to walk past him, when his hand coiled around her waist, pulling her closer to him, while she kept looking ahead. Yet, there was a pit forming in her stomach.

"Those men had been too near you for my liking. If I wanted, I could have had them ripped apart." His hold tightened as he continued "Limb. To limb. And still have you here."

This made her turn to him– her fiery glare matched his cold contemplation.

"But I did not want that. I do not want you to hate me. So don't make do something that is going to cost our progress." His breath was hot on her skin.

Without another word, she jerked his hand away and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once inside, she waited for a good few minutes before she switched on the flush, then turned the shower on. She had heard the muffled sound of door closing. Opening the bathroom cabinet noiselessly, she rummaged through her sanitary needs before a packet came to her grasp. Dipping her fingers in, she fished out the phone she had hidden. Having checked the bathroom lock one more, she moved away from the door while her thumb rushed to dial a number.

The person picked up after a single ring.

"Kyong?"

She whispered.

—-----

Namjoon waited. Eye glancing on his wrist watch ever so often. He did not like to wait. He was the one make people wait. But this deal was important for a business boost. The larger the company, the easier it was to play the cards.

"Where is he, Lee?"

Namjoon's voice did nothing to show his thinning tolerance. He only flicked his lighter on and lit up the limited edition cigarette to keep his cool. The argument was in his mind, her fierce stare showed no spirit of reconciliation and this was worrying for him. He needed her to see how futile everything was– everything she believed in, and how powerful she could be with him. He wanted her loyalty, only then he could marry her. And if he would not marry soon, one of his rivals would and have a heir before him. He had spilled enough blood to be on top, he did not want more bloodshed. They all had their share when he killed the previous Don and took the throne.

"Jardo, my friend!"

Namjoon looked up to see the awaited guest walking up to him.

"My sincerest apology for the delay, businesses have trouble, Sir..."

"RM."

Namjoon corrected him before accepting the hand he offered for a shake.

"Jardo Alec, kindly have a seat."

Lee offered the seat right in front of Namjoon.

"So, your dealings in the Latin world is famous here too."

"Not here, its all over the world."

Namjoon tilted his head.

"I have a schedule, Alec, and I would get straight to the point. There is a shipment of merch-material coming for the factories under Hybe. It will stop the your coast for some custom issues– deal with it, refill the packs inside the material and ship it."

"Well, there has been negotiation regarding the price—"

"Seventy million. I want the pure, white and the yellow ones. Put them inside capsules" Namjoon interrupted.

Jardo sat back, surprised at the lack of negotiation.

"You have got your pockets full, RM."

Namjoon smiled while rising up and buttoning his suit, the rest of the men mirrored his actions.

"Lee will inform you regarding the rest. But I need the shipments before the top five groups begin their world tours."

"You want to sell in the concerts? That's a risky job."

Namjoon took in his cigarette, letting the fumes enter his system.

"Its a risky business."

----

Kyong's eyes took in the computer screen that showed the targets. He the location of the guards loitering in the woods near the villa. Namjoon was out in months. Surely, the guards would be on high alert.

His specialization in hacking did come handy when he was able to get past the security system of the cameras outside the villa and in the woods as well, to note the movements of Namjoon's men. But he could not stay for long, the breach would be eventually detected.

He noted their movements for a few hours before retreating. There was a pattern, but that was not his problem. The problem was the fucking high-functioning front with a camera that overlooked the area. He needed to find out first who had the control of the drone.

—--

"The risotto was delicious Pep."

"Thank you Ma'am." Pep smiled, bowed and retreated.

Just as she had finished her lunch, the gates of the villa opened,

"The weekly groceries are here, Madame."

"I have just finished lunch, don't bother about me, go fetch that."

Pep bowed lightly before rushing to open the door. Bags of the listed items were carried in by two sturdy men.

"Do they have the chocolates I ordered?"

She followed them into the kitchen as Pep prepared to stock up the pantry.

"Oh, here it is." He handed over the box of chocolates to her. Her eyes flicked over the two men there, then on Pep before she open the box.

"I will be in the bedroom Pep, have the evening tea sent up, will you?"

"As you wish, Madame."

She nodded before popping in one of the chocolates in her mouth and walking away.

Once inside the confines of her bedroom, she sighed. Nearing the intercom, she tossed away the chocolate box and picked up the intercom. Taking out a chip from her mouth and wiping it clean, she took off its plastic coat and glued it to the back of the device.

—----

"I don't understand, what do you mean by lost data?"

Namjoon was tense. How could it be? They have lost a dozen of profiles of their guards? Check for a breach."

"Checked Sir, there was none. It seems like a glitch." His men from the other end of the phone explained.

"Okay, send this case to the higher up. I don't want another sloppy hacker job."

Well, the day could not get any worse.

It had been two days since his confrontation with (Y/N) and she had been colder than before. No snide remarks, or witty, scalding comebacks, just the silence. Jardo and his deal was facing an obstacle regarding bribing the customs, and now some of his guards' biodata suddenly went missing.

Namjoon was on edge. Her jerked his tie to loosen up as the car sped through the muddy countryside road. The melting snow and the icy wind did not help.

"Bring me me a coffee!" He growled as soon as the housekeeper opened the door for him.

"Sure, Sir."

Tossing away his dirty overcoat, he ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes looked up to his room, usually, the lights would be on, but the room was all dark with the door wide open.

"Where (Y/N)?"

"Upstairs, Sir."

"She's not in the room." He pointed while taking the steaming cup from the housekeeper's grasp.

"She's on the terrace Sir."

He stopped just as he was about to take a sip. "The terrace? It's fucking dark! Why is she still there?"

He did not wait for an answer, instead, he ascended the stairs.

The terrace was lit up, as usual, just not empty anymore.

"What are you doing here?"

Her back was facing him when he reached the terrace

"I was bored."

She replied without turning.

"There are plenty of subscriptions for you, there are video games"

(Y/N) finally turned as he neared her.

"Thank you." Her honeyed tone stung.

"How long are you going to keep this up? What the fuck—-" Namjoon stopped mid-way, recollected himself after a long breath and resumed "What do you want?"

"You know what I want Namjoon, and even with all the money you can't give it to me."

"I can, once I begin to trust you."

"You proved me dead to the world! You have officers on your payroll, and you are still afraid."

"I am never afraid!"

With a roll of her eyes, she brushed past him.

Fuck it!

Namjoon turned around and strode behind her, grabbing her arm and jerking her to stop and turn to him.

"I've had enough! You think you can torment me like that?"

With a tilt of her head, she assessed him "I think its working. Cool off, Namjoon."

His hold only tightened.

"I have been patient enough, have I not? How long are you going to keep—"

"I do not play with people Namjoon. And then you have the audacity to complaint." It was not an outburst like before– it was plain, cold and as much as he wanted to deny– factual.

"You can't keep this up."

She rose her eyebrow, infuriating him further "Watch me." this time, she forcefully jerked his hold off and walked away.

Namjoon just stood there. Heaving. Burning.

Cool off.

The words did nothing to cool him off. In fact, it had the opposite affect. He needed her. He love her and she needed to know that. So he rushed after her. Chasing her like a lifeline, the only hope of survival.

Desperate.

Angry.

Passionate.

He did not know what came after what, or how many more emotions he was feeling. But he knew he loved her.

And that it hurt when she refused to believe him.

She was already in their room, walking in just in time as he rushed in, kicking the door close. But when she turned around to tell him off, his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck before he pulled her into a burning kiss.

It was like an imprint on his soul– he had been waiting, he had tried to be patient, but she was stubborn, and fiery, and righteous– he loved her, he loved everything about her, but above all, he would love to let his darkness bend her righteousness.

He felt her tugging him closer. He knew he was ingrained in her. She loved him too. His movements were quick and rough as he got rid of her clothes, not caring if he ripped them away in the process, removing his own as well.

It was static energy in the room, thick passion and meaning line between insanity and passionate.

"You fucking get on my nerves sometimes!" He growled, parting her legs with a firm, sharp movement but surprisingly, not rough.

"I thought the boss never loses his cool?"

He chuckled humourlessly at the poking.

"You wanted me to beg you, didn't you? Beg you for forgiveness and tell you how right you were?" his thumb found her pearl with practised ease, her sharp intake of breath only fuelled his desire "I do not beg!" he hissed on her face, playing with her pearl "I. Beg. Nobody!"

"Tell that to yourself Joon–keep telling that to yourself until you fool yourself." She replied breathlessly, somewhat grappling with her wit amidst the onslaught of pleasure coming down on her.

Joon.

Namjoon froze at the nickname. She had called him Joon after so long. It was like returning home after a hard exile.

His movements slowed down eventually, but never came to a halt. He leaned in and kissed her with tenderness– all the tenderness he could have in his heart– the remaining, the newfound, the churned, the ruined.

It did pain him to see her surprised eyes. A remained of the painful fact that she did not trust him, and it was a long way ahead to rebuild their relationship– one that would never be the same, since its very foundation was based on deception.

But in the end, their love would prevail. His love would prevail– even if it was crafted by the nefarious creatures below.

And if...

He dove in, peppering kisses on her bare breast, feeling them to his heart's content.

And if she would never love him the same again...

His one finger teased her folds, testing, feeling her legs spread further unconsciously, making him smirk.

His love was enough.

His finger dipped in. He had missed touching her, feeling her. It was moment he wished could last longer.

He kissed her again, this time, he felt her pulling him closer.

His finger reached deeper, feeling her velvet walls clamp around while she tensed. His thumb continued to play with. Her fingers sprawled over his naked chest, the nails barely scratching him– light and teasing. If she was doing that knowingly– she was playing with fire.

His other hand buried itself in her hair, fisting it lightly while he deepened the kiss, light moans only encouraged him to act further. Adding another finger, her moved them further, occasionally circling them to earn those sweet moans that spilled from her lips. His fingers moved and her hips followed, her hold on him tightened, sliding towards his shoulders.

"All you have is me."

He whispered into her ear, quickening his pace, watching in glee as her eyes rolled back before he felt her spilling on his fingers– hot, gushing as the walls spasmed.

He was a patient man...

But it had been so long since he felt her around him.

Diving in for another intense, mind-robbing kiss, he parted her legs further with his knees, fingers still buried knuckle-deep inside her.

The sudden flashes of her with another man sent him to a frenzy. Had he not promised her to spare their lives...

She moaned into the kiss, hissing as his fingers moved slowly inside her, occasionally parting to prepare her for him. Finally pulling away his fingers, he smeared her wetness all over his manhood before letting the bulbous head tap against her folds teasingly. His patience thinned further when she mewled into the kiss. Relenting against his tongue while he slid inside her, slowly stretching her, inch by inch, until he was buried as deep as he could be.

But he wanted to bury himself deeper.

He wanted to leave traces on her soul, he wanted to run in her veins, he wanted to be the one in her mind and the first on her tongue.

"I missed you." He was turning breathless with all the adrenaline pushing up in his system. Yet, he did not want to hurt her.

To him, she would always be his little bird

"You had me."

"I missed this. You, like this! We–we can always...always go back to as we were."

His hips moved in sync with hers. In that moment, they both were one. And he wished the moment would last till eternity.

It was like his soul was reaching out for hers.

He lied. He knew he lied.

He would beg.

For her, to her.

If that was what it took to being them back to the lovely days they once shared.

"Oh–Joon—"

He moved faster, basking in that moment, deluding himself that everything was alright.

At least he could relish it as long as it lasted.

Her legs wrapped around his hips as they both shuddered in ultimate contentment. It was quiet for a while as they settled under the covers.

"We can start afresh, love." Namjoon whispered, letting his fingers run through her hair, moving away strands as he cherished the tender moment.

Her previously closed eyes opened with unfathomable gaze.

"No, Namjoon. We are not meant to start afresh." With that, she moved the covers and got off the bed.

Grabbing things from the closet, she walked into the bathroom, unbothered by Namjoon's heated stare on her.

Sitting up, Namjoon picked up the cigarette pack and the lighter beside it. Pulling one between his lips, he lit the cigarette. The smoke clouded his vision as he exhaled, leaning back while his eyes kept finding their way back to the shut bathroom door every now and then.

Halfway through his smoke, he got off the bed and wore a pair of sweats.

Still no sign.

Frowning, he turned to pull the curtains of the window a bit and—

As soon as he saw the bloody corpse of one of his guards, he rushed to the bathroom.

"(Y/N)!"

No response.

With one powerful kick, the bathroom door flew open, letting him view the now wide open window with its glass slates cleanly removed with thick towels.

"(Y/N)! FUCK!"

He bellowed.

—---

The snow was thick and the dark woods did not make it any easier. There was blizzard due and they had to reach their car before that.

"Careful there," Han held (Y/N) as she tripped, almost falling flat on the ground "You sure you're not hurt?"

His questioned made Kyong turn to check on her as well, he had been a bit ahead if them, but within the earshot.

"No—I'm okay. Its get out of here." (Y/N) reassured Han, who eyed her with concern, but nodded nevertheless.

Kyong and Han had pulled off the impossible. She had only heard of Kyong's legendary hacking skills...Had seen him hacking no more than modest systems but as they made their way through the silent, snowy forest, she was introduced to his and Han's true potential.

But that was not the thought that plagued her mind– it was filled with the flashes of her and Namjoon– their bodies mingled together. He looked at her with so much of tenderness, with the vulnerability that she refused to believe in. it felt like they were even now.

He deceived her, she betrayed him.

And yet...

And yet there was no trace of satisfaction, or simmering down of the—-

"SHIT!"

Han ducked down just at the right moment, and the bullet hit the tree before him.

"Everyone, down!"

(Y/N) instructed, pushing Kyong away before another shot was fired at him.

"We need to split." She declared as they took cover. It was silent but the light crunching of the snow conveyed approaching danger.

"But we–"

"Now, Han. Go right, Kyong, follow this path. He's after me. I will go left. You two– if I do not return withing twenty minutes, get out of here."

"What? (Y/N). we are not leaving you behind!" Kyong hissed, eyes still ahead in search of the attacker.

"I won't let you guys die because of me–Dok was—"

"It wasn't your fault." Kyong finally looked at her, his hardened gaze softened slightly "It wasn't...I'm sorry. I should have been more understanding."

(Y/N) nodded.

"Go...Please."

Kyong frowned but obliged, nudging Han to slip out first without coming under notice.

"We will see you on the road by the woods?" Kyong's waited for assurance.

Assurance. That was all she could give him at the moment. So she nodded.

"Go."

With a nod, he began to crawl back, maintaining cover of the trees an shrubs. Once he motioned (Y/N), she made a quick dash to her left– deliberately exposing herself.

Her legs worked fast, but she could hear the sound of quick boots approaching. The snow was only slowing her down. But slowing down was not an option.

She could hear him running parallel to her, but with the blurring rights, she could see nothing. He was like an invisible hunter.

But she was no prey.

All she had to do was to distract—

Ow!

She fell to her side, allowing her had to slow down the momentum. But it was painful, especially due to the weight of another man over her. She heard him snigger humourlessly as he locked her to the ground. Knees pinning her legs while he locked her wrists behind her back with one hand. The barrel of the gun felt hot pushed on the nape of her neck. But his breath falling so close stole overshadowed the sense of danger a gun would bring.

"Not so fast." He growled lowly and she shivered, pressing the gun harder

The snow was cold and the jacket did little to help her. Her breathing ruffled some of the dried leaves close by as adrenaline pumped through her.

"I will fucking kill him–kill them both!"

Namjoon would keep his promise. And that gave her all the more reasons to get out.

"No, you will not."

She hissed before navigating her fingers to press on the spot near his thumb, making him loosen his grip a bit but that was enough for her. Her elbow shoved on his jaw as she twisted her body out of his grip. Putting her weight on her upper body, she managed to flip him off her. Rolling over, they both were quickly back on their feet. The only difference being Namjoon's gun now kicked away while (Y/N) had her gun pointed at him.

His smile was unnerving--eyes still raging with emotions. Despite the low visibility, she could see how deranged he looked.

"Yeah, fire now. That would help you in future."

His voice had a tremble.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a better look at him. The faint lights told her that the edge of the woods was nearby.

She could fire. She had the gun– a loaded gun. But how could she?

She realised the emptiness she had within after looking at Namjoon's eyes. Her vision blurred but she blinked away the tear immediately.

It's the cold.

It's cold.

She told herself.

"Back off Namjoon. I have nothing to lose anymore. I can keep you off the radar. Just don't come after me."

"I will always come after you Darling. So, shoot me now."

He chuckled at her lack of response.

"Why? Can't pull the trigger? Don't you hate me?"

"You made a fool out of me." (Y/N) growled, feeling anger bubbling up on the surface "Deceived me. Lied to me. Backstabbed me!"

"And yet I loved you. All through my lies, I loved you...I did what I ought to do. But I could never kill you."

He was supposed to kill her?

"We are even now, aren't we? Just come back. Cut the chase."

His voice was a siren call. But she would not be deceived this time.

"We can never be even Namjoon. I lost everything because of people like you."

The loud sound of the door breaking made her whimper, but it was all muffled with the sound of gunfire.

Through tears and fabrics, she could only watch as the once cream wall splattered with blood, and more blood before the lights were out.

She gulped.

She should have forgotten it. Buried it deep down. But she never allowed herself to forget that. She had to remember each and everything so that she could tell the child psychiatrist. Each and Everything.

"And you think you are all angels in that uniform?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Lies were worn under uniforms as well. There was no difference.

" Of course, there are no angels in this world Namjoon."

Her world was turned upside down. Her perception was cracked and her beliefs toppled. She was dead to the world. Being dead in reality would not make much of a difference.

She had nothing to lose.

"But that won't matter."

With that, she pulled the trigger.

----

The streets were in a lull. At he peak of winter, snow blanketed the footpath the bicycle lanes hardly had any tracks. Red, golden and green lights lit up near doors and on windows, like vines creeping all around. Some doors had the wreath hanging with toy bells.

Byun was home after a double shift– weary eyes, sagging shoulders– he knew he needed a warm bath. The process of unlocking the door felt tedious, but as soon as she shut the door, the warmth of his apartment invited him.

It was freezing.

And the predictions were that it would snow heavily by the weekend. While everyone would be cozied under blankets and the roof of their homes, people like him would have to slave their way through the weekended to save the sorry-ass streets.

He threw his overcoat off, along with his cap before roughly taking off his watch—

He stood stiff, straining his ears while his fingers silently took out his gun.

Muffled voices from his bedroom door which was shut tight. He was home after more than twenty four hours but he remembered leaving it open.

He always left it open.

Deliberately, he made his way to his kitchen, making sure he made enough disturbances. Switching on his expresso machine, he stealthily glided along the walls, making it to his bedroom.

The muffled voices did not cease. Silently, he tried the door knob– unlocked.

In a flash, he kicked it open and aimed his gun towards the intruders, fully expecting people to fire at him.

Nothing.

The door creaked as it moved to and fro due to the force it was opened with, while the bedroom remained plunged in darkness and—-

The voice.

It was his voice!

Coming from a voice recorder sitting on the middle of the bed.

"Hi, I'm Byun. I have just prepared a team of four. They will come after your men. Reach the docks an hour before the time. I don't want them caught. No, listen, I can mislead for so long–they're no kids okay? Yeah they–*sigh* I am calling you through his phone so that we are safe. Tell Mr Lee all about the delivery– yeah—"

Byun reached quickly to shut it off, his gun still pointing ahead.

He was not wrong, his house was broken into.

A speeding car momentarily flashed some light into the darkness.

He was not alone.

"I've seen you...come out..." He demanded gruffly, keeping a cool exterior.

From the darkest corner, she emerged like a ghost. Parts hidden by the darkness, parts exposed by the uneven streetlight.

"A-aa—you fire that gun and yet this recording is going to be on air, I have put it on timer."

Her eyes flickered on the gun pointed on her direction but they were looking into his in no time.

"I wasn't going to shoot." Byun deadpanned.

"Why?" (Y/N) rose an eyebrow with an amused smirk.

"Because its you."

She only titled her head, "You underestimated me Byun."

His name sounded cold as she neared him.

"Like you underestimated my father."

"He died because he was foolish. I warned him against them–but he was stubborn. He brought it to himself. You were following his path."

She shook her head.

"I am not my father Byun. I learnt my lesson early."

The silence between them was thick and strained, but it lasted only a moment.

"I you kill me the department would know and—"

"I give you two straight options– either this recording of yours goes on-air and the police, the intelligence and Henchin himself come after you to give you the death you deserve...Or you end it all by yourself and make it easier for yourself."

Byun chuckled in disbelief.

"I am being merciful Byun. Take it while you can."

"You are showing me mercy because you can't kill me yourself." He pointed out.

"What would be worse? Your recording coming out or being killed by my hands?" She looked at the wall clock hanging behind him "Fifty seconds more, and it all is going to go on air. The department would want to look good in the public eye– they would want you behind bars, or dead... And Henchin would reach you behind bars too."

Conflict flickered all over his face, his forehead glistened.

"Lee will come after you." He tried to intimidate.

But (Y/N) only smiled– faint and tight– matching her steeled gaze

"I will be waiting."

"You cannot—"

"Ten."

"(Y/N)--" he hissed

"Nine"

"You will gain nothing!"

"Eight..."

"I–"

"Seven"

"STOP!"

"Six" She sniggered.

"Five."

He was growing breathless

"Fou–"

In a flash, he pointed his gun at his head"

BANG!

The once pristine wall beside him was sprayed with blood. Some flecked her face too as she watched his body drop down.

She would have stared longer, but she knew that she had no time to waste. Choosing the fire escape, she noiselessly made her way out of the building while muffled voice of disturbance and commotion began to stir up.

Once a safe distance away, (Y/N) wiped her face before fishing out a cigarette and a lighter from her coat's pocket.

As she lit her cigarette, she saw the trembling of her hands.

----

Continued here.

#yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere bts x reader #yandere namjoon #yandere rm #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon smut #yandere mafia namjoon #mafia namjoon #the taste of deceit hyungline #the taste of deceit

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saphira-approves · 3 months

Text

Okay no I’m not done talking about swords, and their names, because sword names are IMPORTANT okay and they MEAN THINGS—

I rambled in the tags of this post about Eragon and Murtagh naming/renaming their swords to be positive, compared to their fathers’ respective negative sword names, but I want to go further into it.

First is the obvious one, Morzan’s Zar’roc, Misery, and Murtagh’s Ithring, Freedom. I’m almost certain Morzan names his sword as an offensive measure—and I don’t mean offensive as in insulting, I mean it in the combat sense. It’s a curse, almost, upon his enemies: any opponent he faces with this blade will be struck by misery, literally. But one thing we know about Morzan: he’s not particularly wise, and even his best works backfire on him. We see it with Selena, and his confidence that she loves him too much to betray him, so he never warded against her. He named his sword Misery, and Misery is all it brought him: he joined Galbatorix, brought the downfall of the Order, and lost his dragon to nameless madness; he killed Brom’s dragon, making an enemy of the man who once had idolized him and sealing his own demise by Brom’s hand; he threw Misery at his own child and pushed his wife to betray him, which ultimately led to the downfall of everything he had ever worked for. Talk about a curse. He upheld Misery, and Misery came right back to bite him in the ass.

And then Brom took Misery from him, and sequestered it away, and eventually gave it to Eragon without telling him its meaning; and Eragon wielded it without knowing its meaning or history, trying his best to do good with it, and even when he did learn its history and its name he resolved to work to give it a better legacy. After all, a good sword is a good sword. But Murtagh, Morzan’s son and heir, was not done with Misery, bore too painful a scar from Misery to let it go—he took Misery from Eragon and claimed it as his own, claiming his birthright, yes… but taking Misery away from Eragon, in the very same moment that he also protected Eragon from capture and forced servitude, the fate that had befallen Murtagh himself. Complicated as feelings all around may have been, intentional as the act itself may or may not have been, Murtagh here is very much intentionally shouldering that burden. He fully believed that Eragon was another son of Morzan, he could have easily justified rejecting that part of his history and his father’s legacy and offloading it on his younger brother, and yet he didn’t. He took it for himself and declared it his own.

And then he called it Freedom.

After enduring torture and enslavement and a hundred other humiliations, he took Misery in hand and said, no. I do not uphold you. I do not fight for you. I fight for Freedom, for my own and my loved ones’, and for the Freedom of all. He looked at the horror of his past and refused to let it define him. He looked at his father’s mistakes and refused to be bound to them. He took a name of offense, of attack and hostility, and changed it to a name of preservation, of defense, of peace.

And then there’s Eragon, with Brisingr, Fire, and Brom’s mysterious Undbitr, Void-biter. At first glance it may seem that they have absolutely nothing to do with each other, but I would not be here if I wasn’t going to loudly and fervently declare otherwise.

My guess for Brom’s reasoning of naming his sword Undbitr would be somewhere between edgelord teenager antics (look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t have wanted a sword name Void Biter at twelve years old) and his admiration for Morzan, who named his sword the simple yet devastatingly clever Misery. Void-biter, bite of death, the bite that would send his opponents to the void. To darkness, to nothingness, to anti-life and anti-hope. A sword lost after his dragon’s death, never seen again, and yet Brom himself succumbs to the bite of his own personal void: he dedicates himself to vengeance, throws everything he has of himself into orchestrating Morzan’s downfall, and the downfall of Galbatorix and the rest of the Forsworn for good measure. It’s implied, from Brom’s own admission of fearing his son would hate him and Oromis’s discussion of his near-suicidal madness after Saphira’s death, that revenge is all Brom lived for until he met Selena—and even after he met her and fell in love with her, I suspect his need for vengeance is what ultimately decided the events leading both to Morzan’s death and Selena’s doomed reunion with Murtagh. Brom may have lost Void-biter, but the void consumed him anyway.

And then there’s Eragon. Yes I’ve said that already but if anything can sum up these books, it’s And then there’s Eragon. The first spell he learns is fire. A dangerous force, certainly, one that can easily break control and wreak untold havoc and destruction, but what force of nature doesn’t fall into that category? He could easily have learned, and thus be represented by, wind or ice or lightning, or even just pain or break. But he didn’t, and he’s not. He wields fire. A force of nature, a destructive weapon… but also the foundation of a home, fire in the hearth; the fuel of invention, to shape metal and glass; and most importantly, a light in the dark, the hope of dawn in the long cold night. Eragon names his sword Brisingr, and it’s not merely a weapon: it is a beacon. His father was consumed by darkness, but Eragon is the one who guided him back to the light, who gave him something to live for after he had defeated his enemy and lost his love; Eragon was the figurehead of the rebellion, the spark that drove a passive resistance into the blaze of true revolution; and now Eragon builds the new hearth of the Dragon Riders, to tend and defend it for future generations.

What a change from misery and the void.

Fire, and freedom. Hope, and peace. Family, and love.

I think Selena would be very proud of her sons.

#inheritance cycle #christopher paolini #eragon shadeslayer #murtagh (inheritance cycle)#brom (inheritance cycle)#selena (inheritance cycle)#morzan (inheritance cycle)#saph scribbles #murtagh spoilers #very light but still there #im normal about these books im so normal about these books (lying)#need a murtagh and eragon reunion STAT i need eragon to be all mushy and proud of murtagh for his growth as a person #while murtagh is VERY uncomfortable and fully expecting to be kicked out but refusing to say anything because the hugs are nice even #if he won’t actually admit it

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oleander-nin · 1 year

Text

Slipped(Yandere! Rise Leo x Reader)

A/N, not important: Hey, I'm so sorry I've been taking such a long time to get fics out. I know it sucks, and I know I suck, but I'm going to try to speed it up once May 8th passes. I have a bunch of tests coming up, so I'm going to be posting maybe once more this week to hold you guys over. Once again, I'm so sorry. Hopefully I can go back to once a week once my life calms down again. Also! I've never had a concussion, so went of memories of a kid getting a concussion when I was in 2nd grade and the Mayo Clinic information. Please tell me if something's inaccurate! Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Summary: You try to escape, but slip up at the last moment.

Words: 1134

Tw: Kidnapping, concussion, slipping off a ladder(mentioned), Leo being a creep, Leo being Yandere, MC's chained to the wall

‘Tap, tap tap’

My bleary eyes blinked open, a deep fog settling over my brain and seeping into my chest. I could hear something tapping, almost like a countdown to my metaphorical doom. The blurriness around my vision starts to fade, as do the bright white spots speckles around the room. I look around, trying to figure out where the tapping is coming from. A grinning figure sits in front of me, his blurry fingers drilling against the small bedside table next to him. His colored skin and tan plastron paired with the shock his blue mask hinted towards his identity.

Leo.

I let out a groan, my head feeling as if it had a vice squeezing against my brain. Leo’s slightly blurry figure smiles down at me, seemingly completely calm despite the rage burning behind his eyes. I tried to escape. Again. If one thing was for certain, Leo was not going to be pleased. I shifted on the bed, the quiet rattling of the chains echoing around the small room seemed deafening, my feeling as if it would split open at any moment. I tug lightly at the restraints, wincing as the shackles rub against my wrist harshly. With my hands bound behind my back by the chains, I try to relax my shoulders, wanting to ease the dull throbbing in my arms and lower back. I looked around the room lazily, trying to focus on what was going on. I jump a bit when I hear two loud snaps in front of me, Leo having moved from his seat to snap his fingers in front of my eyes. I blink up at him, fear settling in my chest and binding with the fog.

“There you are. Can you hear me?” I watch as Leo’s mouth moves, but the words take a moment to process in my head. Leo’s sweet smile holds an anger I recognized well, and I didn’t like the predatory gleam in his eyes. I shifted on the bed, trying to formulate the words in my mouth to answer Leo, but my tongue felt heavy. My mouth gaped at him a few times before I could get out my words.

“Your voice is fuzzy.” I say, trying to keep my eyes open. I was proud I could get out the words despite my pounding headache, but a win was a win. Leo looks at me, a small frown on his face. His lips move again, but his voice is way too muddled for me to understand. I watch as Leo sighs before standing up, walking towards me as he mutters something under his breath. I try to scooch back, the cold tin of the subway car wall being pressed against my back. I whimper as he leans down, his hand stopping on the top of my head.

“Can you look at me?” He asks, his voice softer than earlier. My eyes drift towards his own, but I can barely focus on his face. I furrowed my brows as Leo went in and out of focus. Leo’s hand moves to his phone and his other holds up my face by my chin. I tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. Not painful, but firm. I wince as Leo turns on his phone's flashlight and shines it in my eyes, his face set in concentration. After a few seconds of the torture and my headache worsening with a vengeance, Leo brings his phone back down, rubbing my cheek softly with his thumb.

“You’re so stupid, you know that?” His voice is soft and gentle despite the harsh words, having obviously figured out my headache and not wanting to make it worse. Leo’s eyes scan my face as he sighs, his hand moving to the back of my head and lightly tapping. I feel a sharp pain as my headache worsens from the small touch. I move my head forward, trying to escape his hands, but his hand drifts from the back of my head to the base of the back of my neck. He holds my head firm, not letting me move an inch to look away. “Do you remember what happened?”

I try to think back. I knew I tried to escape, and now I was here, so I assumed the attempt was unsuccessful. It’d be really weird if I was still here after I escaped successfully. But I couldn’t remember what happened, nothing about the actual attempt. I remembered the beginning, when I initially bolted after Leo left the subway cart he called his room to go help one of his brothers with something. He forgot to lock it, so I took my chance. But now I was back in his room, chained to the wall with my wrists behind my back. I couldn’t remember a thing. “Nuh-uh.”

Leo rolls his eyes, a fond twinkle in them as he sits on the bed next to me, pulling me close to him. He forces me to lie on him, my head on his shoulder as my legs drape over his own. “You tried to escape again, love.”

His voice was breathy, soft, full of a quiet fury he was trying to contain. I let out a small hum, the throbbing headache preventing me from doing much more. Leo’s jaw tightens slightly, seemingly not pleased with my non-committal answer. The arm around my shoulders pulls me even closer to his body as the hand on my knee gently squeezes. “You have a concussion, by the way, and I didn’t even cause it. It was all you, babe.”

Leo looks down at me with a devilish grin, seemingly pleased about my injury. “Not even ten minutes without me, and you already got hurt. You are just nothing without me, huh.” Leo lets out a huff of air, his chest vibrating against my arm as he laughs. “I still can’t believe you slipped off the ladder to the topside. I really thought you’d get away for a minute there, but you just continue to prove how necessary it is you stay with me. This is for your own good, so stop trying to fight it.”

Leo shifts me off of him, helping me steady so I don’t ragdoll onto the bed. He checked the shackles on my wrists, giving me a soft kiss on the forehead before standing up with a cruel smile. “I’m off to go get some ibuprofen for your headache, then Don and I are going to give you a small brainscan, just to check everything over. Don’t move, I’m being nice by helping you out instead of leaving you to face the natural consequences of your actions.”

And with that, he leaves, the door clicking shut and having only my tears and throbbing skull to comfort me.

249 notes · View notes

crumbledcastle28 · 2 years

Text

Ruhn Danaan: Sweet Relief

Pairing: Ruhn Danaan x female!reader (she/her)

Summary: “You would—you would be open to that?” you asked him quietly. Tentatively.

He let his hand spread across your stomach, and the neutral, cautious expression he was wearing slowly turned into a grin.

“Fuck yeah I would be open to that.”

Warnings: Period Sex, heavy descriptions of period blood, she uses a sanitary pad, p in v sex, slight dirty talk, SWEARING, reader is insecure, she has severe period cramps, spoilers for all of CC, the White Raven is alive, Queen Bryce is here for like 30 seconds, protected sex, orgasming, and Ruhn being a gentleman. This could also work in the Personal universe, but it also works outside of it.

A/N: if anyone can find me a real life Ruhn Danaan, I’d very much appreciate it. I hope you all enjoy this. Thank you to anyone who supports me or my writing. It means a lot. :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it is very appreciated <3

SJM Masterlist

(Pic gotten from Pinterest)

“Give me a break, Bryce,” Ruhn mumbled into his drink.

“I’m serious!” she defended, her amber eyes widening even more.

“The last thing Y/N wants me to do right now is touch her. You’re just trying to get my face bitten off.”

Bryce huffed out of her nose, and set her drink on the sticky wooden bar. Ruhn knew her well enough to know he had delightfully riled her up.

“I’m not fucking around Ruhn. Look it up for fuck’s sake.”

Ruhn shook his head again and chuckled.

“Look, I didn’t want to have to say this, but Hunt and I have tried this many times—”

“Fuck Bryce, okay—”

“—and it’s always worked!” Bryce said, but the end of her sentence was cut off by her own laughter.

Ruhn laughed with her, enough that his shoulders began to shake. He shook his head again, trying to keep any images of his sister locked away from his mind.

“All I’m saying is that even suggesting it would impress her. Trust me.”

Ruhn hummed, thinking of all of the other ways he had tried to impress you, bedroom or otherwise. His drink burned nearly as badly as not having you by his side, laughing along with Bryce and her lack of filter.

He had seen you an hour ago, and you were currently lying in his bed, yet he still managed to ache for you.

“Ache for you?” Was he a fucking teenager?

You made him feel like one, that’s for sure.

Your period had come with a vengeance, and there was no way in Hel you would make it to the White Raven for your weekly drinks with Bryce.

Your words, not his.

You apologized profusely, of course, and told him to tell Bryce that you would make it up to her.

“I know,” he mumbled, and kissed you on the forehead. He offered to stay home with you at least fifty times before you practically shoved him out of the bedroom.

He then explained to Bryce why you were not bound to his side as you usually were, which led Bryce into spilling her “period advice of the century.”

In simple terms: sex. In Bryce’s terms: “Earth-shattering orgasms.”

Which led him here.

“Thanks Bryce,” he replied. “I’ll sure as Hel try.”

Bryce winked at him as she sipped her champagne. She could see how his eyes simmered at the mere mention of your name.

She couldn’t be happier for her brother.

“You’re a better male than half the ones in this bar,” she said quietly. “Most males wouldn’t put their dick anywhere near that.”

He swirled the liquid in his glass, smirking to himself.

“I’m not like most males.”

~*~

You’d never wanted to crawl out of your own skin more than you did that night.

You swore there was a wolf inside of you, scratching and shredding you from the inside out. The muscles from your thighs to your toes tingled with a pins-and-needles sensation, and you felt the blood continuously draining from your face.

Ruhn’s never-ending supply of heating pads and massagers were helping, but the waves were never ending. The first few days were always agony , and there was no part of your body that wasn’t contorting in pain.

You were nauseous, sweating, and fucking pissed.

All you wanted was to go out for drinks with the love of your life and your best friend. That’s all.

You weren’t even strong enough to do that.

You wanted to cry. Everything hurt and you just wanted a few minutes of nothing. No pain, no headaches, no pajamas soaked in sweat. That’s all you needed.

You brought your hands to your lower stomach, pressing the heating pad so tightly against your bare stomach it burned, but you didn’t care. Tears began to dribble down your cheek. Nothing else would make you feel better.

“Y/N?”

Except for that.

You recognized him from his steps alone. He didn’t even need to announce himself.

You heard him discard his boots, setting them on the shoe rack, and unzip his jacket. The fabric ruffled when he set it on its designated hanger, and a plastic bag ruffled as well.

If he brought you back food, you would propose on the spot.

“I have a surprise,” he said from behind the bedroom door.

Your sweat-covered mouth turned into a smile involuntarily. “Will you marry me?”

He chuckled as he opened the door, and your stomach ignited at his beauty. Those butterflies never seemed to disappear around him.

“You know I will,” he replied, and you smiled even wider.

He was in black jeans and a grey T-shirt, with his hair down and clean. His blue eyes pierced the darkness of the room even more so than usual, probably from the drink or two he had with Bryce. His right hand curled around the bag of takeout, highlighting the veins in his forearms.

What really got you, however, was how his broad and muscular body was highlighted by the yellow-toned lamps you had on, making him and his glorious tattoos that much more accentuated.

Maybe it was your hormones, or maybe it was the way he set his fucking house keys down on the night stand perfectly domestically, but parts of your body began heating up in a way that masked the tension in your muscles just so.

“I brought your favorite,” he said, rocking the bag back and forth in his grip. “Shitty White Raven food always makes you feel better.”

He made you feel better. He always made you feel better.

You nodded, smiling up at him with your hands still pressed firmly against your abdomen.

He set the take-out bag on the night stand as well and sat down on the bed, curving his body to face your own.

He scanned your frame, noting how many chords were stretched across the room to your stomach, and he frowned slightly. He moved his eyes up to your face, and the sticky tears lacing your cheeks were ever present to him.

You gulped, smiling soulfully, and he breathed deeply. Looking at you. Trying to find the right words to say.

He always felt your pain as if it was his own.

“Did you guys get drunk?” you asked teasingly, cutting the tension.

His mouth curved into a small smile. “Not even tipsy.”

You hummed, looking away from him awkwardly.

He inhaled a short breath, and you looked up at him once more. “Can…can I touch you?”

You blinked once. Twice.

“Yeah,” you replied huskily, and he brought his right hand over to your face. His wide thumb brushed the tears from your left cheek, then your right, and your eyes fluttered at the sensation. He then brought his mouth to your forehead, kissing it firmly, before pressing your foreheads together.

Your cramps still stretched up your back, but a thin blanket of bliss coated your body at his tender touch.

He pressed kisses down your nose, landing with one on your mouth, before mumbling.

“Any better?”

You breathed in the smell of his aftershave. “No.”

He swallowed, nodding his head, and pressed his hand atop your own. He pressed down, sinking the heat of the heating pad even deeper into your muscles. You exhaled at this, not even realizing how loud it was, and his fingertips curled around your own.

“Bryce sends her wishes,” he said against your lips. “I believe her exact words were ‘when Mother Nature brings Y/N Y/L/N down, you know it’s fucking bad.’”

You smiled, wishing you could hear those words in her own voice, but you could picture it well enough.

“I missed you tonight,” he mumbled, pecking your lips once more.

“You were gone for an hour baby.”

“I know. Trust me.”

You both laughed at that, and he pulled away from your face to bring his free hand to your face, framing it perfectly.

He brushed your cheek bone with his thumb before bringing it down to your chin.

“I missed you too,” you said. “Anymore Bryce updates?”

Something clouded his eyes at your question. It looked like a mix of anxiety and uncertainty, with a touch of…curiosity?

Your eyebrows came together at this, and you rubbed your thumb against his hand.

“Not really,” he said. “She uh…she just had some advice for me, I guess.”

You tilted your head, urging him to continue.

“Advice?”

“Yeah…period advice.”

You smiled, and snorted a laugh. “I can only imagine what she said.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. She called it her ‘period advice of the century.’”

“Well then,” you laughed out, “let’s hear it.”

He swallowed harshly, fidgeting with your fingers. Why was he so nervous?

“It’s not something we have tried before, so I don’t want to make you…uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? We?

You squeezed his hand. “What is it Ruhn? You can say it.”

He swallowed again, and licked his lips as he shook his head. “She said, and these are her words by the way, not mine, she said that I should give you ‘Earth-shattering orgasms.’”

Your eyes widened. Ruhn kept eye contact with you, desperately trying to gauge how you felt about her advice, but you could barely meet his gaze.

Not when an obscene amount of heat shot down your lower body, and your toes curled at the thought of Ruhn touching you in all the ways you imagined when he walked through the door.

Gods you wanted it. You wanted him. So badly your core began to ache with something other than pain.

His eyes continued to devour yours, unable to read your shock at your own reaction to his words.

“We don’t have to do anything Y/N. That was completely Bryce’s idea, and I didn’t even mention—”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back on your elbows. “It’s okay.”

He nodded and pressed down on your heating pad, rocking it side to side over your skin to spread the heat.

You nearly moaned.

You’d thought about period sex many times. Even before you met Ruhn. It seemed you could not go a period without remembering the copious amounts of articles you had read, boasting about how orgasms and penetration lessen period cramps dramatically.

You just never thought any male would have an interest.

“You would—you would be open to that?” you asked him quietly. Tentatively.

He let his hand spread across your stomach, and the neutral, cautious expression he was wearing slowly turned into a grin.

“Fuck yeah I would be open to that.”

Holy Hel

“Really?” you asked, your voice raising in disbelief. “It doesn’t… gross you out?”

He softened his smile and shook his head before saying, “Nothing about you would ever gross me out.”

If you didn’t want him to fuck you before, you definitely did now.

Maybe he could smell your change in demeanor already, or maybe he was starting to feel the exact same sensations you were, but he squeezed onto your heating pad that much tighter, flexing his arms all the way up to his shoulders.

“You need to communicate with me Y/N,” he mumbled. His voice was rich with arousal, deepening his already low octave. A rope of tension was beginning to stretch between the both of you. “You owe me nothing. If you want me to stop, tell me to stop. Please.”

You nodded, sitting up higher on your elbows.

“I will. I want you to do the same.”

He nodded, flashed you a quick smile, and started leaning in. He had just kissed all down your face, pecking your lips as he did, but this felt different.

You both knew the desired destination, making your breaths hot and your blood boil. The tension was now at risk of suffocating you.

He stopped inches from your mouth to frame your face with his hands once more, and brought his lips to yours.

He kissed you so gently that you felt yourself already beginning to deflate. He tasted like mint with a touch of whiskey, which made you smile inwardly. He either expected you to say yes, or really fucking hoped you would.

He began with small pecks, but allowed them to linger more and more as he continued. Your lips molded perfectly to each other, just as they always had.

He brought his right hand to your lower back and pressed lightly, causing the entirety of your spine to be laid flat on the bed. You exhaled, enjoying the way your muscles relaxed as he guided you down. He started breathing heavier as he framed your hips with his knees and the entirely of his body hovered over yours.

Your heart began beating louder and louder in your head, and the already steady blood flow toward your abdomen was heating up your body from your brain to your toes.

You realized, for the first time in hours, that you didn’t feel any pain. None at all.

You were on your period, and Ruhn was fucking on top of you. You would have to personally thank whatever gods dropped him in your lap.

He began licking between your lips as he kissed you, teasing you with his tongue, and you kissed him harder and harder. You wanted the taste of him to coat every inch your mouth.

You brought your hands up towards his hair and skated them down the expanse of his body when his tongue finally entered your mouth, and you groaned against him, digging your nails down into his t-shirt.

It was like that prick of pain snapped him back into reality, causing him to pull completely off of you.

“Towel,” he whispered through his red, swollen lips. His chest still heaving. “We need a towel.”

He climbed off the bed and sprinted to your shared laundry room, leaving you with your arms frozen in midair. You laughed at his eagerness, and you heard many types of fabric begin to smack against the tile floor. You could picture it, him pulling out every towel you owned in search for a stained or dark-colored one, and tossing the expensive ones over his shoulder.

Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae, bested by a towel.

His steps finally echoed back up to your room, and he held what had to be a decade-old maroon-colored towel with the Crescent City University logo blasted across the entirety of it.

“It’ll do,” you said, still laughing. He laughed with you, his face still flushed, as he moved over to your night stand in search for a condom. He pulled one from the package and brought it to his mouth before delicately raising your lower body off the comforter. He laid the towel over the fabric, and laid your legs back down, condom still between his teeth.

You watched him the entire time, picturing the many ways he planned on taking you. The sweat coating your body soon became the desired kind.

He climbed over you once more, but sat on his knees. You brought your hands forward to fumble with the zipper on his jeans, but he shook his head.

“Uh uh,” he said, his voice muffled by the wrapping in his mouth. “Keep your hands here.”

He took your wrists in his hands and pressed them onto the heating pad still placed on your bare stomach. He pressed down firmly before taking his hands off of yours slowly, making sure you did as he asked. The heat continued to spread over your sore muscles, and you exhaled out of your nose. You felt the best you had in hours.

“Just in case this doesn’t work,” he said, winking at you, and unzipped his own jeans. He slid them off of his ankles, placing both of his forearms next to your head for balance, and you took the opportunity to bite the end of the condom with your own teeth, successfully stealing it from him. You smiled as best you could, and raised your eyebrows in victory.

His mouth opened in shock—genuine shock—and he shook his head side to side.

“Gods Y/N. Fuck.”

You laughed through your teeth, and he kissed your cheek slowly. His breath skated over your face as he spoke.

“Should’ve suggested this sooner.”

You continued smiling at him, your stomach bubbling in anticipation, and he pushed off of you to remove his shirt and underwear.

You were met with a body you knew better than your own, but could never seem to get enough of.

Every mole, every scar, every tattoo, every ab, you had kissed it. Loved it. Adored it. You had every inch memorized, and yet you looked at him like he fashioned the stars in the sky. Every time.

The darkening lust in both of your eyes lightened with love, and you felt the familiar sense of safety Ruhn Danaan always brought you.

He leaned down and pecked your nose, allowing you to feel the softness of his skin against your palms. He then stole the condom back with his teeth and laughed through his nose.

You rolled your eyes, and he pulled on the bottom of your shirt. You nodded, and moved your arms up so he could remove it entirely.

He looked at your bare upper-body with as much love as you did to his, and set the condom down next to your face to kiss along your collarbone.

Something about the mix of his gentleness and eagerness made every inch of your skin hypersensitive to every kiss. Chills erupted down your body, and shaky breaths began to escape from your mouth. He kissed from your collarbone down through the center of your breasts before finally landing on your stomach.

He placed a delicate hand on your heating pad before asking, “Can I take this off?”

You nodded, already prepared for the rush of pain and agony that would worm its way up your body when he did. He knew it too, so he brushed the heating pad off the bed and removed your underwear in one swipe.

The pain returned, so harshly your spine spasmed and your hands gripped the sheets. You hissed through your teeth and released a quiet whine.

“It’s okay baby. It’s okay. I’ll fix it,” Ruhn said quickly, looking more unsure than ever. “What should I…do you want my fingers—”

“No,” you responded. Harsher than you intended. “I need you inside me. All of you.”

He nodded quickly, and ripped the condom open with his teeth, sliding it over his swollen shaft. Despite the wolf once again attacking your reproductive organs, you felt your mouth water at the sight, causing a foreign feeling of pain and pleasure to curl in your lower stomach.

You continued to grip the sheets as he lined himself up against your entrance, and he brushed a hand across your forehead.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he said, pressing his lips to your hairline. “Tell me if this hurts Y/N. Please.”

You shook your head, and managed to mumble over your heavy breathing. “Always.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath, and pushed into you slower than he ever had before.

You were so slick he entered you fully in seconds, and his tip was nearly hitting your walls until finally—

“Holy fuck.”

There it was—sweet relief.

Any inkling of pain you had evaporated off of you. Your body melted and your eyes rolled so far back you were seeing stars.

It was pure euphoria. Every inch of him.

Ruhn was shaking—shaking—above you. “You’re so—fuck you’re so warm.”

He could barely get a full breath in. “Gods you feel like heaven.”

You exhaled erotically into his shoulder. “Ruhn, please move.”

He groaned into your neck, and slowly began rocking back and forth. You brought your hands from the sheets to his back, feeling every muscle twitch and ripple against the pads of your fingers, and another moan left your mouth.

You were getting tighter and tighter, and that all too familiar ball in the pit of your stomach was beginning to unravel.

“Y/N I—I can’t. I can’t last, I’m not gonna—”

He hissed in pleasure, and you kissed across his jawline.

“Keep moving. Please keep moving.”

He did. He rocked and rocked and rocked, harder and harder and harder, until you were both moaning messes. You could feel yourself dripping onto the towel and down your legs, but not one part of you cared. Neither did Ruhn.

“You’re so fucking perfect. You feel so perfect,” he whined—whined— in your ear, rocking as hard as he possibly could. “I can feel you. Fuck I can feel you starting to come.”

You were. You were so close.

“I’m there. I’m right there,” you whispered, and ran your hands down his stomach. His muscles clenched at your touch, and you smiled at the effect you were having on him.

His whines were turning into groans; his tell-tale sign that he was right there with you.

“Ruhn, I—"

But with one touch of his fingertip to your clit, you were gone. Completely fucking gone.

You had never come so hard in your life, and neither had he.

You had to have blacked out, at least for a second, because you opened your eyes to Ruhn kissing down your neck and around your breasts, whispering sweet nothings.

“You did it. You did it Y/N. You’re okay.”

Your head was buzzing with pure ecstasy, and tears coated your cheeks once again. You felt as if you were floating, free of the prison your cramps had kept you in all day.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Ruhn, bringing your hands up to his scalp. “Thank you Ruhn.”

He pressed a firm kiss to your left breast, smirking. “Don’t fucking thank me Y/N. I should be thanking you every godsdamn day of my life.”

His eyes locked with yours as he said this, and the pure love in his eyes was nothing short of a gift.

He pressed more kisses down your stomach, lingering on the moles and markings you had, and smiled again.

“Was it Earth-shattering?”

You laughed deeply at his question, and you nodded your head up and down. “Definitely.”

“Good,” he responded. “I did my job.”

As your high began to slowly fade, the feeling in your legs returned, and a layer of stickiness coated the entirety of your inner thighs.

Ruhn reached an arm down to his lower body, effectively pulling off the condom. You felt him set it in between your legs.

He brought his face up to yours, and kissed you firmly. Firmer than you expected. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, and watched his naked frame leave the room. The night outside was still cut by your golden lamps, which followed him as he walked, coating him with golden yellow beams.

You wished you had a lifetime to stare.

Once he was gone, you exhaled, basking in a body free of pain and discomfort. You rubbed your palms over your eyes and yawned, unable to keep a smile of contentment off of your face for longer than a few seconds.

You had never felt so elated. So free.

Ruhn’s steps started towards your room, and he entered with another cloth in his hands.

“Couldn’t forget this,” he said, grinning at you.

You grinned back, opening up your legs for him. He brought the cloth to your legs, and you hummed when the heat of it hit your skin.

No matter the time of day, location, or longevity, Ruhn always cleaned you after sex. Demanded was more like it. You had told him countless times you could do it for yourself every once in a while, you even asked if you could return the favor, but a shake of his head was always his response. Nothing more.

He leaned on the bed, holding the cloth inches from your tender skin, but you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“I love you Ruhn. I love you.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes still piercing through your very being, and kissed the top of your knee. “I love you Y/N. More than anything.”

He then dragged the warm material down your legs, cleaning you thoroughly, and continued to press kisses to your knees as he worked.

“All done,” he said, looking up at you. His grip on your leg was enough for a lick of heat to return to your stomach.

He stood up next to the bed and slid his hands underneath your back. He helped you sit up straight, and you smiled at him sleepily.

“Thank you.”

He kissed your cheek and mumbled into your still flushed skin. “I just said to not thank me.”

You smiled, scooting yourself to the edge of the bed. “Thank you anyway.”

You stood on shaky legs and walked to the bathroom, keeping your hands on your hips to steady yourself. You felt his gaze glide down your body like a physical touch, and you couldn’t help your smirk. It was nice to know you had the same effect on him as he did to you.

You grabbed a fresh pair of underwear before relieving yourself in the bathroom. You added a sanitary pad to your garment as you pulled it up and stretched your back. You rolled your neck as well, feeling at one with your own body again.

You’d have to call Bryce personally tomorrow. Next week’s drinks would be on you.

You walked back into the room, ready to help Ruhn clean up your mess, only to find the towel and condom wiped away from your sheets, with Ruhn tucked inside them. The white bag on your night stand had disappeared, and he was holding the containers of take-out in his hand.

“It’s still warm,” he said, smiling enough to show his perfect teeth.

In that very moment, you decided that if you didn’t end up marrying him, no one else would.

You would make sure of it.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @baebeepeach @dfendyre @seraphimluxe

#ruhn danaan angst #prince ruhn #ruhn danaan smut #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn danaan #crescent city fanfic #crescent city #fanfiction #sarah j maas #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar x reader #hunt athalar #ithan holstrom #feyre archeron #acotar #tog imagine #tog

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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

Text

Intoxicating Fear - Masterpost

Ongoing Series

“Oh yes,” said Omen, tone reminiscent. “Old Mentor went mad trying to stop me, poor dear.”

“You drove him crazy! You weaponised his own mind against him,” Kit said, hatred colouring his voice. Omen smirked.

“I was going to do the same to you,” said Omen, his voice flowing through Kit’s ears like liquid silver. “It’s a favourite of my many gifts. Not at all fit for combat like lightning or water, but I can break you without breaking a sweat. Even before I took your mind you couldn’t lift a finger against me.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Omen.

It was a whisper, a rumour, the bogeyman - nobody who met him lived to tell about it, or if they did, they didn't remember. Almost everything about him was unknown until he drove Mentor mad and claimed the notoriety for bringing the world's greatest Superhero to heel.

On his first solo mission, Kit, the hero Malyn, gets far more than he ever bargained for. Omen takes Kit as a trophy, a play-thing, a puppet - addicted to being Kit's biggest fear.

Will Kit escape Omen, or is he doomed to be Omen's puppet forever, or worse... end up like Mentor - mind melted, hospitalised, and scared of his own shadow?

Main Characters

Kit Mallory (22) — Malyn

Kit showed incredible promise in the young Hero Academy and was offered to be Mentor's sidekick, the greatest Superhero in the world. Kit took the offer, Mentor taking him under his wing as if he were family and soon that's what they grew to be; family.

After Omen attacks Mentor, Kit's entire life is uprooted, unraveling before him and he's consumed by vengeance, promising Mentor he would avenge him. He just didn't expect to meet Omen so soon, so suddenly, so unaware.

He’d be damned if he let Omen know that.

Oskar Ambrose (26) — Omen

Not much is known about Ambrose. That’s the way he likes it. The less people that know about him the better, and yet, there was something about Malyn that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something like a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

Never before had anyone made Ambrose not want to use his powers to force them to submit. Malyn… he was like the gift that keeps on giving— life is too short not to abuse a Hero every once in a while. If during the course of his meddling it happened to further his own agenda, well — that would just be an added bonus.

Chapters

Part one - Introductions

The Old Fairground

A crude awakening

Instant Regret

Breaking balls

Know your place

Part two - Homeward Bound

6. Welcome home 7. The Great Escape 8. A visitor comes a-knocking 9. Much needed alone time 10. Reprieve

Part three - A devil’s bargain

11. A deal with the devil 12. Breakdown 13. Family time

14. Wake up call

15. A foreboding calm

*~*~*~*~*

Guys I finally made a masterpost of intoxicating fear!!!! Oh my god it was such a pain trying to find the last update but now I don't need to! YAY! Also, just purely stole Whumblr's HIWTHI masterpost template but listen... if you wanna be great you got to look at the greats okay - it's like a masterclass in masterposts and blog organisation okay?

Also if you are waiting on updates for this series - don't worry, the next part is on the way, even get a cheeky sneak peak at the chapter title ;)

BUT if you ARE waiting and you need some whump to satiate that URGE and you haven't read Whumblr's HIWTHI - before you thank me, you are welcome - AND IT's completed so no wait times - okay ENJOY!

#intoxicating fear #intoxicating fear masterpost #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #writblr #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #Kit Mallory #Oskar Ambrose #I am so great at tagging #whump writing #whump series #whump story #whump masterpost #ooga booga #self sacrifice #self sacrifice whump

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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 12 hours

Text

Dennis Reynolds is AUTISTIC!!!!

(At least, I headcanon him as such).

Here's why:

Sensory issues:

If you've watched the show, you probably already know what I mean, but Dennis really struggles to deal with sensory input. When there's a loud noise, he often covers his ears- like in Family Fight:

or he gets frustrated, lashing out at diners for being too loud (The Gang Dines Out), getting annoyed at Frank for chewing gum too loud.

It's worth noting that later on in this episode, Dennis can hear Frank chewing gum from the other room. He's clearly hypersensitive, and perhaps this even goes to explaining a little bit why his room is soundproofed? Could it be that rather than not wanting people to hear what's going on inside, he's desperate to block the noise coming from outside?? (this was suggested by @kod-lyoko , and I LOVE IT).

There are SO many examples of Dennis plugging his ears (often when the others don't react in such a strong way):

There are way too many examples to list here, and too many images I could give (the above were taken from @dennisboobs ' gif set) but hopefully you get the impression.

Social issues:

I feel like this one is pretty self-evident, but I find deconstructing the things Dennis does super fun, so I'm going to explain anyway: Dennis does NOT know how relationships work. There are a great deal of factors at play to cause this (I would argue that his early experiences in life definitely moulded his view in an unhelpful way) but the systematic way he looks at interactions REEKS of autism to me.

The DENNIS system is hardly peak autism representation (it's certainly not the bright and bubbly stuff people often talk about), but the fact that he has a system for romantic/sexual interactions, both for men AND women, feels super autistic-coded. He quite literally has a script which he follows to make interactions easier, one which he sticks to rigidly. And if anybody tries to implement this carefully thought out system incorrectly? Well, he'll let you know (e.g in The Dennis System episode where he blows up at Mac and Charlie for not getting it right at the fair).

He masks his social deficits well, but sometimes things don't go to plan. Sometimes, the girl on the cruise ship runs away, and Dennis announces that 'that's not supposed to happen'.

He comes off as creepy, but that's not his intention. He doesn't understand the way he's perceived by others in general- he thinks he's the King of St Joseph's, not realising he was actually an outcast all along. Just like a lot of autistic people, he didn't understand that he was on the fringes of society until it was thrust in his face, and that hurt.

Speech:

While Dennis often appears to speak pretty normally, there are a few occasions where his frustration causes this mask of normality to slip.

In The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby, Dennis is caught off guard by the hipster's reading of him, and immediately goes back to Frank and Charlie, parroting almost the same words he heard right back to them, despite not seeming to understand them at all (perhaps a form of echolalia?).

"I'm out here trying to make a difference, and you're over here rummaging around in the trash like a couple of narcs! Okay, you can't just come down here with your mainline cashmere, mousse... quaff... hairspray, and start being like, a suburban tool!"

It's also worth noting that even the poetic way he speaks when he's angry could be a trait ?? As a recently diagnosed autistic person, in my report they spoke about how I used 'idiosyncratic' language (basically, peculiar language lol), and listed terms like 'connoisseur', which I guess were deemed pretty formal for casual conversation.

And it got me thinking, who else do we know who uses VERY idiosyncratic language? Dennis. Reynolds.

"The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these halls, like the gust of a thousand winds"

"Begone, vile man, begone from me!... I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds!"

"You didn't tell me there was to be pollen!"

Etc... etc...

The way he repeats 'savages, idiots!' during his rage at the frat bros feels very autism coded to me. Repetition of certain words and phrases is common!

Heightened emotions:

Again, something that I didn't know until I myself was diagnosed is that for a lot of autistic people, we spend most of the time at a pretty 'flat' emotional state, but when we do experience emotions, we experience them intensely. Frustration turns into anger, sadness turns into despair, happiness turns into ecstasy- it's why some autistic people might be misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder!

This, of course, fits well with the way Dennis experiences emotions. He spends a lot of the time believing he doesn't have any at all, and when he does feel something, it's overwhelming.

"And I have feelings! Of course I have feelings, I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."

These lines hit hard regardless of the extra weight you put on them, but when you see them through the lens of autism, through the lens of a lifetime of misunderstanding and overstimulation, it makes them hit even harder.

It hurts him to feel. His emotions are so strong that they're painful, and he's never been taught how to deal with them, because nobody even knew he had them in the first place.

Stimming:

Finally, I think Dennis stims. A lot. If you search up 'Dennis Reynolds autistic' on this very site, you'll find gifsets and videos illustrating this.

He has a few very common ones, like tugging on his earlobe when he's anxious, playing with his fingers, etc, but if you pay attention to him even when he's in the background of scenes, you'll pick up on a lot. Dennis is constantly moving, and while you could suggest this is simply a result of Glenn's ADHD, I'd argue that some of these stims happen so frequently in Sunny specifically, that there's no way they're coincidental.

Glenn makes a lot of very specific acting and directorial choices in Sunny, so why dismiss these as choices too?

That's all I can be bothered to type up now, but here's my case for Autistic!Dennis ! Of course, he's a complex character so there's always room for different interpretations...

but as an autistic person, I hereby claim him as One Of Us™.

#iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #dennis reynolds #its always sunny #autistic dennis

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witchofhimring · 8 months

Text

Loyalty (chapter 5)

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Aemond Targaryen x Ellyn Baratheon

Y/n Tyrells Profiles

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, childbirth, emotional turmoil, death, unrequited love?, humiliation by Ellyn Baratheon, marital abuse, marital consummation, misogamy (internalized as well as external), brief depictions of smut, Plot twist at the end!

Synopsis:

It is the day of your wedding and you have never been more miserable. Also this chapter has uncomfortable descriptions of marital sex that may be upsetting for some viewers.

The carriage had screeched to a hault. You were nearly thrown to the floor it it was not for Lady Alana who had saved you in the nick if time. Alarmed, Tyshara cowered in her seat. Everything seemed to be floating out of focus. A pounding echoed in your head. An ice cold breeze bite at your skin through the window. The scream accompanied the sudden screech. Princess Ellyn had alarmingly jumped to her feet and was coming straight for Elinor. Her long nails buried themselves into Elinor's hair. She cried out from the sudden attack and Princess Elly, with the fury of an enraged stag, attacked her. "Stop it!" Your shrill voice had Lady Alana, who was now in tears, burst out of the carriage. A moment later knights came in. The scene was so hectic in its fury that you could hardly know what was transpiring. Only cries and being shoved around by gauntlet clad hands. Someone seized you and the next thing you knew your feet were off the ground. Someone was carrying you outside. Lady Alana had collapsed and was on the ground, a knight attempting to console her. Tyshara looked nauseous and was huddled against a tree. She had never thoughts about what the consequences of her actions could cause. Two guards had Elinor with Princess Ellyn on their tail. She was practically howling with rage at this point. "Take her away! Take her and throw her into the darkest cell!" You started to cry. "No's" continuously left your mouth as Ellyn Baratheon called for vengeance. You could do nothing more than be rooted to the ground in horror like Lady Alana and Tyshara.

Ellyn had finally ran out of words. She staggered and staggered over to a tree stump. Her face was a putrid her and her blue eyes, well, there was nothing remotely beautiful about them now. Great huffs of breath left her body. She looked like her heart might give out at any point. The ruckus had not gone unnoticed. Jason Lannister, Prince Aemond Targaryen and several others thundered around the corner. Their horses stopped and they descended upon the group. "In the name of the Seven, what has happened?!" Jason Lannister looked stunned at the sheer chaos before him. Tyshara lunged at her father with a wail and buried her face in his chest. She tried getting out some words but failed to do so. Ellyn took the initiative. "My Lord, this wretch, a creature in your betrotheds service spoke ill of me to my face!" Horrified and angry, the brief paralysis that had held you bound disappeared. "Only because you spoke ill of me! As my Lady she is honor bound to defend me!" You protested, turning to Jason Lannister. You might not get any sense into Ellyn, but maybe your future husband might be more willing. "And may I ask how this fight did start?" Prince Aemond looked between you and Ellyn, likely guessing the cause of discord here. "My Lord, may I speak?" Lady Alana had risen to her feet shaking. "Of course." Gallantly Jason Lannister helped her sit. Tears welled in her eyes but she pushed them back. "Lady Tyshara was speaking with Her Grace and put to question Lady Y/n's service to her former mistress. And the Princess cast assumptions onto Lady Y/n's character regarding her friendship with the Prince. Lady Elinor over there was distressed by this and scolded to Princess. Then herself, being angry, the Princess attacked her." Lady Alana seemed unable to speak any more. She dissolved once more into frightened tears.

There were marks indented into your skin. It felt like someone was pushing needles into your lungs making every breath difficult. You thought you might faint. At least you would not have to be here facing this lot. Eyes were on you, Ellyn and Lady Alana. "Ser Trish, please take the Lady Alana back to the castle so that she may rest." The knight bowed and lead Lady Alana to a horse. Jason Lannister placed a hand on his daughters shoulder and she went to her governess. The two of them disappeared behind the wagon and a moment later you noticed them gallop away. Disbelief hit you. After what she had done Tyshara was simply allowed to leave while you face scrutiny?! Young she might be, but not so young that her behavior could simply be dismissed. "Where is the King. If you will not give me justice then I will seek it from him." Ellyn demanded. "If the King is just then it is you who should face punishment." Defiantly you stared her down. Ellyn rose to her feet and started walking towards you, only for Prince Aemond to seize her hand. Then in a move that startled everyone there, Ellyn swung around and her hand collided with Prince Aemond's cheek. In alarm he simply gazed down at her. Ellyn herself was frozen, horrified by what she had just done.

"I believe that we should all depart. Your Graces, I will take Lady Y/n with me." Jason Lannister took your hand and there was a stiffness to him. Would he blame you for this? You just wanted to hide somewhere far away. Perhaps into the forest with only the darkness, blanches and maybe witches. It would be more preferable anyway. Jason Lannister called for a horse and a knight gave his up. After being helped up you looked over at Elinor. She was still in their grasp, white as a sheet. "May Lady Elinor attend me?" You asked. Jason Lannister shot you a hard look. "No Y/n, you may not."

You remembered nothing from the hunt. Choosing to sit under the canopy with Lady Karina. No words passed your lips, you were too numb to speak. The fear had paralyzed you. Only when it got dark did they mercifully decide to disband. A carriage had been brought up to collect you. Thankfully no one but Lady Karina joined you. Down the darkening path your group traveled. The lamp above bounded slightly with each jolt. Your eyes temptingly shut, promising a peaceful sleep. But nagging anxiety wracked your body. At any moment you felt like a hammer might be dropped on you. Suspended, waiting to strike. Once more you wished to run into those woods. You looked out the window and the old forest beyond. It was illuminated by the moonlight. There was something archaic about the way each branch gently drooped down. Above the clattering of hooves you could hear the wind whispering against the ground. You could almost hear voices in there, calling out. For some reason this did not scare you. The exhaustion must really be taking its hold.

You were so tired you failed to notice Elinor was still missing.

You woke up to a horrible stinging in your wrists. Crying up, you clutched at them. Lady Mari who had been ordered to sleep next to your bolted upright. "My Lady!" She seized your hands and looked at the smooth, unblemished skin. It died down to a dull thud. The two of you gazed at the place that had ached so terribly. She delicately examined the area. Cold sweat slipped down your back, staining the bedsheets. You smelt something almost metallic in the air, the scent of salt staining the air. You told yourself it was the sea.

Every motion was slow, but too fast at the same time. They stripped you down one agonizing piece at a time. Their hands went in places you did not want them to go. Cold fingers held you like roots, planting you to the ground. If you'd had your way, you would have ran. Somewhere far away from here.

Once more they bathed you in some sweet smelling oil. Now that you were more awake yesterdays situation blasted into your foggy mind. Elinor. "Where is she!" You abruptly stood up. A cry of alarm came from Lady Griar as water spilled out. "Where is Elinor!" You demanded once more." Lady Alana, who's eyes still looked red, blinked and turned her head. "She is in the dungeons, My Lady. Lord Lannister commanded it." Lady Karina spoke up. Lady Mari looked at her, raised an eyebrow, then picked up a towel. "I believe it is time to dry off." But you stubbornly stood there. "It is as Lady Karina says." She responded to your uncooperative self. You jumped out, took the towel and ran into your room. The ladies who had not assisted with the bath had been chatting beside the bed. Their conversation was cut sort to see their Lady run by and seize robe. "My Lady!" One of them cried, seeing you go for the door. Before they could ready you the door flew open. There stood Prince Aemond Targaryen.

The last time you had spoken the the Prince your friendship had been sundered. Since then he had been a Prince to you. No longer your dearest confidant. Looking into his eyes was similar to a strangers. You looked away. You would never be able to look into his eyes as a friend in this life. Even though you had gotten use to it there was still a sadness that gnawed at you. "My Lady.....I am sorry I should not have come." He mumbled out the last part. He turned on his heel, but you called out. "Is Elinor alright?!" Prince Aemond paused. "I do not know her current state of mind. But she is in the dungeons." He nervously tittered there, indecisive. Lady Mari dashed out and seized you by the arm, hauling you back in. The door was slammed up. "You mustn't be seen like this around men!" He hissed. "Will she be alright?" You're gaze was still to the door. "I do not know." And with that unsatisfying comment, she took the robe off you and they continued their task. Even with all the fuss over your body the thoughts still remained on Elinor and Prince Aemond. He had come to see you completely of his own volition. A small part of you hoped he still cared.

You had imagined this in your dreams. The sept decked out in all its splendor. Every member of the court dressed in their best. The weather was perfect. The sun was out as if celebrating this union. Birds could be heard chirping outside. The sweet scent of early spring flowers hung in the air.

And you, dressed in white as the perfect bride.

This time it was you. Dressed in pure white, married to a man more than half your age. Every step felt like you were getting closer to your doom. All eyes were on you and it was horrible. The dress felt too heavy, each gems in your hair pulled painfully. Every second was torture. As you got up to the front you saw the faces of Prince Aemond and Ellyn. Aemond's was hard to read, but he was looking at you with such intensity as you had never seen. Ellyn had something between a sneer and a frown upon her features. You noticed a faint red mark on her neck and felt ill. Elinor had likely done that to her. What where they doing to her right now as you walked down the isle. You were practically dragged the past few steps by the man giving you away. Jason Lannister's calloused hand took yours. The grip almost crushed the delicate bones in your. Biting back the urge to pull back, you faced him. In another state of mind you might have paid attention to the state of his garbs, in their fine red and gold. Although older he was not bad looking. In fact many women would happily be in your place. But all you knew right now was fear and the conscious desire to hold in the bile. "In the light of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, bind them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." Your voice came out weak and tired. Like a puppet doing a poor imitation of the controller. "And now, in the Light of the Seven, I pronounce you lawfully married." He took his hands and cupped your face. You felt trapped. His cold lips touched yours.

"To lady Lannister!" The cape on your back weighed you down. But it was nothing compared to the weight on your heart. You really thought your heart might give out. This was your life now, as Jason Lannister's wife. The title caused a wave of sadness to cascade over you. All you wanted was for the day to end. To just lay down and sleep. The cheers and merriment around you only served to cause further distress. You could have really used Elinor's company then. "My Lord, my congratulations of the wedding." Prince Ameond walked with his arms linked with his wife. You swallowed whatever it was you were feeling and took a gulp of line. "I thank you. I hope we are as happy as you are." He replied in good cheer. Jason Lannister had a bright flush to his cheeks. Maybe he would feel to drunk to sleep with you tonight, Gods willing. "We thank you. And I am very happy." Ellyn smiled in what anyone else would have assumed was in good faith. But you did not miss the exact curve of her lips, not the malicious glint in her eyes. "Mu Lord, may I dance with your wife?" You tried to indicate to her husband that this was not what you wanted. But either he did not or chose not to notice. So in defeat you followed her to the dance floor. This dance was made so that two of the same gender could dance. Thankfully none of it required for you to touch her. You faced each other and you stepped left, she stepped right. Together the two of your twirled around, your white and black dresses contrasting. "What is the point of this?" You wanted to get this over with. "Your lady, Elinor." Ellyn effortlessly glided past you. Your steps became more stilted. "Where is she?' You tried to control the panic in your voice. Ellyn laughed, a nauseating, belly curdling noise. "She attacked a Princess. I doubt her punishment shall not be sever." You wanted to scratch her eyes out. To tear out her beautiful long curls and hurl them into the flames. You wanted her to suffer for a thousand lifetimes and even then you might not be satisfied. And you almost did, you nearly lunged at her. But the world had a habit of turning you on your head. A cheer rose up and in your confusion you lost Ellyn in the crowd. Hands grabbed at you, male hands as they shoved you towards the exit. The impulse to scream was only shoved down due to fear. You realized this was the bedding and all you could think of was the pain.

By the time you arrived at the doors several of your finery had gone missing. Someone had seized the golden diadem upon your head. Another had tugged at your breasts causing rubies to spill on the floor. Mortified, you tried to hide your face as they all laughed. Once at the door you prayed they would leave. But their hands remained on you and someone's hand grabbed you waist. A cold shot paralyzed you as fear took away your ability to react. Mind blank, you just mindlessly stood there. "Enough!" You could have cried with relief. Even if it was Prince Aemond you would accept any salvation. With a groan the men subsided and begrudgingly trundled the other way. You felt Prince Aemond standing behind him, the warmth radiating off of him. "Are you alright?" You said nothing. You wanted to cry but your pride would not allow it. The cloak of protection was wrapped tightly around your shaking form. A surprisingly warm hand placed itself on your shoulder. "Y/n." There was something in his voice you had never heard. Or rather, you had only heard it twice. After he lost his eye and the death of Lucerys. It was the tone one took when they had lost something. Similar to the strain in your voice when Prince Aemond left. It gave you a hollow feeling that stirred around in your gut. One stray tear rolled down your smooth cheek. You felt so lonely and what you had lost came crashing down. You could no longer spend your days running along the Red Keep. Hiding in the alcoves, spending sunny days having tea with Helaena and reading to Prince Aemond before bed were part of the past. Almost a past life. The flowing dresses from your childhood were replaced by these stiff, formal dresses that made you feel suffocated. You wanted to go back, turn back time to a simpler place. "Y/n, please turn." If anger had processed you then the response might have been different. Yet so tired where you, stretched so thin, there was no response. His voice, that small agonizing thread, thundered in your scull. You were not sure how to take it. He had been a stranger to you and everything had fallen. You were not allowed to bring anyone from Kings Landing save Elinor. Elinor who was locked away from you. "Go." You whispered. You heard his breath hitch. In that moment the two of you made your choices. If the decision that you two made in that moment had been different, things would have been different. But you did not turn and confide in one another. Backs turned and both of you went your separate ways. You watched Prince Aemond walk down the hall. Smaller and smaller he became, until there was nothing else.

The door opened and the sent of sweat and cinnamon met you. They pulled you in with eager hands. Your husband had already arrived, laughing bawdily with his friends. Only two women were in, Lady Alana and another who's name you did not know. They stripped you down into your undergarments and you were thrust towards the bed. There were no sheets to cover you, only bedding and a rectangular piece of cloth. They sprayed you with some strong smelling perfume and laid you on the bed. You could near them laughing and in your head it sounded mocking. With you heart in your throat, you just lay there. Jason Lannister took his place beside you. He looked more at ease than you, a virgin. Sheer curtains were drawn around the bed. They only showed the outline, but even that was too much. Once they shut the curtains, they all fell into a horrid silence. A silence that was louder than any rowdy brawl.

Jason Lannister moved and your senses were set on edge. He got himself up and seized one of your legs. You seriously wanted to cry at that moment. You thought of how every bride must go through this on their wedding night. With all eyes on them. And even after they must freely give themselves to their husbands without complaint. You think of the Dowager Queen who had been younger than herself when she surrendered her maidenhead to a man more than twice her years. Or Helaena, she at least had been sparred the humiliation of a public bedding. But it likely had not been pleasant, she never talked about it. If your parents had been alive could they have stopped it? You wondered how your life might have turned out had they been alive. You remembered your father. He seemed so tall and strong to you. How he would pick you up and spin you around. The two of you would walk amongst the gardens as he read aloud to you. Then deeper memories resurfaced. Ones you had pushed far back. Your mother was a shadow to you. A mere imprint of whom she might truly have been. What had her own wedding night been like? Had she been as scared as you were now?

Your nightgown was pushed up to your thighs. Embarrassment clouded your features as your realized what he was looking at. Hands touched your thighs and you nearly jumped back. You battled with the desire to flee and to lay still. Then his thumb touched between your legs and you gave a jolt. You were not sure what to label this sensation. It was not pleasant, in fact it was invasive. But a strong pull in your pelvis caused you to close your eyes. He did it again. As he felt around you lay there trying to control whatever it was you felt in your stomach. Then his thighs met yours and your breath stilled. You knew what was about to happen, and you dreaded it. When he did enter it was like back in the maester's room. Judging eyes watching your every move. A sting at something penetrated you. Only it was not pulled out. Again and again it thrust itself within you. Your flesh squirmed as it tried to adjust. A few tears rolled down your face and were brushed away. Whether this was an act of kindness on his part or not wishing to see them was unknown to you. The horrid sensation of something being pumped into you invaded. It stuck to your body, a remnant of its owners act. He withdrew and it still hurt. Clapping echoed around the room and someone yelled. The bed lifted slightly as your husband clambered off it and people trampled out of the room. "My Lady." Someone had you lift your hips and drag out something from beneath it. The white cloth was stained with blood, remanence of your maidenhead.

Once they all left Jason Lannister closed the door. You lay there, exhausted. Several candles were extinguished and the curtains pulled aside. The sudden darkness was a relief to you. The light barely shinning through the keyhole and under the door felt invasive. Jason poured a cup of mulled wine into a goblet for you. "I hope that was not too unpleasant for you." It was a small act of kindness, but the most you had received in months. And it soothed you like a mothers lullaby, however that sounded like. "I dunno. I'm so tired." The words heavily fell from your mouth. Jason seemed to deliberate on doing something, and then set the goblet down. "I will send in two of your ladies to wash you up. Good night." And you were mercifully left alone. Far from any noise or laugher, with blessed darkness enveloping you.

A hazy sky greeted you the next morning. Like someone had placed one of those sheer curtains across the sky. Showing the light, but blocking its full rays. You felt a body stir next to you as Lady Karina was peacefully dozing off next to you. From this day forth you would always have a bedmate, be it your husband or a lady. Deciding to cherish these few moment of solitude you crept to the window. A strong wind flew through as the latch was unclasped. A tumultuous storm brewed bellow. You watched as white foam curled against the socks only to be swept back. There was a wild beauty to weather when it raged. Like some other worldly power sweeping in. You closed your eyes, salty air stung your face and the ancient trees of the forest rustled in you ears. And then you heard your name. Not from inside, but beyond. It was outside the castle walls and sweetly it called to you. You had the bazar desire to leave the warm room and all its comforts for the outside. You wanted to go out there and be amongst those old swaying branches.

The door opened and the moment was lost. The wind, with great force, shut the window. The outside world was blocked. Lady Mari stood there with Lady Alana, who held a pitcher. A moment of great longing and the thought that something truly wonderous had been spoiled soured you. Dejected, you stepped away from the window. The sudden slam of iron did more than just shut a window. Lady Karina stirred before rolling over. "Is it morning My Lady?" With a yawn like a cat she rose. Lady Alana poured the warm water into a basin. You washed your face and two more ladies entered. Elinor was still not here. "You will have breakfast and then have tea with the ladies of prominent lords." Commanded Lady Mari. "What of Elinor?" All of them looked disconcerted. The realization that they knew something, and kept it from you, dawned. "Where. Is. She." You glared at each and every one of them. It was Lady Alana who broke. "Lord Lannister had her whipped and sent away." "What?!" You cried out. Lady Alana backed up. "We only just found out now, I swear!" Without wasting time you dashed towards the door. But Lady Mari was quicker and with alarming strength she clasped her hand on you. Iron in strength, your frantic attempts to escape were fruitless. You plead with her to let you go but her heart seemed unmoved. Lady Amara was unable to look upon the scene, Lady Karina simply hid her face in the sheets. "Go got your Lord!" "Lord Jason does not have time for such antics. You will get dressed and do as you are told!" With an almighty push you were sent tumbling to the floor. It was not hard for in your frantic state it knocked the air from your lungs. Tears of dismay stung your eyes. Even as Lady of Casterly Rock you were helpless. Elinor was somewhere far away by now and there was nothing you could do for her. You were just some helpless little girl with less power than you ever had before.

You made one last great effort. Even if your cause was lost you would never forgive yourself if you did not a least try. Elinor deserved that much. So after meeting the ladies, of which you remembered none of their names, you slipped away when Lady Mari was distracted. She had let her guard down, as you were good at masking your distress and entertained the ladies. To your knowledge Lady Karina had the ladies preoccupied. You raced down the halls as if someone was chasing you, the red tail of your dress flowing behind you all the while. You feared that at any moment hands were going to reach out and grasp you. Part of you felt embarrassed to have been caught up in such a predicament. You did not look remotely lady-like at the moment. The door to Jason Lannister's study loomed closer and your heart pounded in your chest. You were so close now! Just a few more steps and you would be there. Two guards stood vigilant at the door. Upon seeing their new lady race down the hall looking properly disheveled they were on alert. "Please, I need to speak to Lord Jason!" "Are we being invaded?" They looked on edge, likely expecting the roar of a dragon at any moment. "No. No. I need to speak to him now!" They gave way and the doors were opened.

Jason Lannister was not alone. Lady Reyne, with shimmering red locks flowing down her back, was perched on your husbands lap. The two of them turned when the doors opened. The three of you were frozen, like a picture. No one dared move. The pupils in Lady Reyne's eyes dilated in fear. "I wish to speak with my husband." You said curtly, making sure to put an emphasis on "husband". With a flushed face (you were glad she at least felt shame) Lady Reyne was quick to leave. You watched her retreating figure with cold eyes. "I was not informed you had a mistress." You might not love this man, but anger and shame coursed through you. You were being shamed right under your nose and not a single person thought you might want to know. "It is of little concern. You shall not see her." As if that was any consolation. Was she with him on your wedding night? Your hands clenched. Then you remembered the other blonde girl with the Lannister sisters. Now that you thought about it they did look familiar. "Is she the mother to your bastards?" The words came out harder than you intended. And in doing so you unwittingly pushed Jason Lannister. Immediately he got to his feet and stridden up to you. Backing up did no good. He was upon you in a moment and seized you in the same place Lady Mari did hours ago. It was so intense that your breath jolted in your throat. He hauled you to the door as if you were a misbehaving little girl and not his spouse. The doors were flung open and he shoved you through to the other side. "I expect, for your own sake, that you do not challenge me again in this manner." And with that, the doors slammed with an echoing boom.

"You little fool!" Cried Lady Mari. After that humiliating altercation you had fled to your rooms as you would not allow to witness you tears. You had cried in the merciful solitude of the bathroom, for once left alone. After the tears had subsided, you filled a bowl with cold water and pressed it to your face. The thought of anyone having knowledge of what had just transpired was too horrible to imagine. Lady Reyne was beautiful, there was no denying. You wondered for how long she had been his mistress. Was she the mother to his bastards? Did he have other mistresses? Humiliation stirred in your belly at the thought. Rage pulled at your insides. If you had your way, she would be out. You wanted to take everyone who had ever angered you and turn them right out of this house. But you had no power here. Less then even when you were a mere lady-in-waiting to the Queen. Once you might have gone to the Sept. But no such source would comfort you now. Those stone cold statues provided no comfort any longer. You walked to the window and opened its latches. The storm still prevailed bellow. There was hardly any light to see. You listened to the forest and its trees bellow. You wished your view opened out onto the forest instead of the water. There you might hear the whisperings better. Maybe if you took your cares to the forest you might alleviate some of your pain. They said the old Gods dwelled in the forests. They called them false Gods, heresy brought by the Northerners. Your great grandmother had been a Northerner. A Reed. You had hardly put thought to your northern heritage. In the light of being a Tyrell being the descendant of a minor house seemed ludicrous to dwell upon. But suddenly your thoughts went to that ancestor, long dead. She had likely worshiped the Old Gods. You remembered, once, when you looked amongst old things, you found a rusty silver pin. At the time you thought it inconsequential. But now that you thought back to it, its design was all too familiar to the Weirwood tree that resided in Kings Landing.

"Where is she!" Lady Mari's voice thundered through the halls. You heard the door to your room fly open and then hurrying footsteps coming to the bathing chamber. There was nowhere to hide as Lady Mari got closer. The door was nearly blasted off its hinges as an irate Lady Mari stormed in. Once she saw you her face became even redder. "Well, I would not have believed it. Sneaking off like that. I had to be informed-" She was still catching her breath. Your pride and fear meant that not a single tears escaped you, not once. As her shouts washed over you all you did was stand there. Numbness seemed the best course right now. Buried underneath your propriety as a lady.

Today the royal party had to leave. With Rhaenyra's forces advancing Prince Aemond intended to cross paths with his half-sister. Ellyn would be sent straight to the Red Keep. You were not sorry to see either of them go. For Prince Aemond's presence was a festering wound on your soul. His presence gnawed at your insides constantly. You mourned Ellyn's upcoming absence even less. The farther from you she was, the better. And you would never forgive her for Elinor. Not in a thousand years and if all of Westeros compelled you to do so. The day the royal party left was warm. You stood outside with your attendants as your husband warmly sent the Prince off. As they did so Ellyn took the opportunity to give one last insult before departing. "It is so sad." She gave a mock sigh. "And what do you mean by that." Your voice was hard as ice. "About Lady Reyne. I mean, everyone had heard of it by now. How you behaved when learning your husband is errant. Well, we can not always be lucky." A small sneer curved your features. "You are so sure." Ellyn raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?" "You are so sure your husband will remain faithful." You were pleased to see a light pink hue on her cheeks. "At least I do not have to contend with little bastards running about. And tell me, if you prove barren, how shall you ever bear it?" And with that last nasty statement, she turned on her heal and left.

Notes: Some of this was meant to be part of the last chapter I wrote but I felt it worked better here. Now some of you might be wondering why Ellyn no longer has any title before her name in the readers thoughts. As someone from the aristocracy Y/n would have held a great deal of respect with titles. The only people with no titles before their names are people Y/n really cares about (like Aemond when they were friends, Elinor and Helaena). And people she really dislikes, such as Ellyn. While she never liked Ellyn this time Y/n lost any remaining deference she might have once held. Then there is Tyshara. The reason Tyshara does not have a title before her name is because she is still very young (14 years) hence why the reader finds it odd to refer to her title in her head.

Also Ellyn is going to have to eat her words soon as there is a very Strong witch at Harrenhal, if you catch my drift👀. Though circumstance will be different.

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