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smuthospital · 4 months

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⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️

Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!

Art by Minagami

Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.

Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees

Miners DNI

You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.

The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.

"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!

Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.

“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?

You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.

You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!

He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.

To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.

He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.

He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.

A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.

He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.

He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.

"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...

He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.

You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.

He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.

It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."

You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.

#lemon #non con #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #dead dove do not eat #slashers #noncon x reader #obsessive love #degrees of lewdity #eden the hunter

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pen-and-umbra · 6 days

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FFVII Rebirth introduces something never extensively explored in the original game or in the compilation of Final Fantasy VII: Sephiroth's anger towards Professor Gast’s experiment and the contempt he came to harbor towards ShinRA as an organization.

(Herein lurk spoilers.)

While the latter is something the fans have glimpsed on and off throughout previous installments, the second part of the Remake amplifies it ever so more. What began as admitting that the company had fabricated his legend and expressing a desire to live a normal life in Ever Crisis gradually transforms into a lack of clarity regarding his reasons for fighting in Before Crisis (as prompted by Elfe), followed by an open disgust towards Hojo's and Hollander's experiments when confronted with Mako pod entities during the hunt for Genesis. Sephiroth and Zack's ordeal during Crisis Core events appears to undercut his willingness to stay, as he famously considers leaving the corporation right before embarking on the ill-fated Nibelheim expedition.

FFVIIRb picks off where we left off, painting a more complete picture of Sephiroth's dissatisfaction with ShinRA overall. Interestingly, one of the discarded sequences from the original game featured Sephiroth hinting at his lack of affection for his employer as early as the truck ride.

Narratively, the sequence spans the gap between OG and Crisis Core's departure cutscene, implying that Sephiroth used the time on the road to reflect on his current and future connection with ShinRA. His companion, however, does not appear to understand why he is bringing the topic up. What distinguishes Rebirth is the suggestion that Sephiroth came to view the entire ShinRA system as a problem, rather than just a few rotten apples. He no longer singles out Hojo, but rather the entire ShinRA branch, indicating that something's wrong with the system. When "Cloud" casually inquires about the problem with the Nibelheim reactor, Sephiroth responds that it is "people who run it," adding that this particular site is controlled by the Research and Development department. In addition, in response to "Cloud's" fair comment regrading the lack of transparency in company's operation, he rather sarcastically suggests to bring the issue with the President, thus implicitly conveying the futility of the endeavor.

When the party encounters Mako pod residents, one can detect genuine rage in his voice. While Sephiroth had previously shown bitterness for the test subjects during CC, it was tinged with disgust/pity rather than wrath. And once again, I’m grateful to Tyler Hoechlin for broadening his range in this particular segment.

"Cloud's" reaction to the contents of the pods, however, came off a little weird. The confusion appears out of place, because Zack had seen it all before — he had been there to watch the aftermath of Hollander's work; is it really odd that ShinRA's chief R&D scientist spearheaded the entire thing? Perhaps, unlike Sephiroth, Zack treated it as a rotten-apple issue, rather than a systemic issue. Or maybe this is an example of Cloud being an unreliable narrator, having conflated his own experience with that of Zack, which also explains Zack being sort of too green for the First Class throughout the Nibelheim portion of the game.

The shift in Sephiroth's perspective, from singling out Hojo's misdeeds to viewing ShinRA's itself as a systemic problem, is further highlighted during the mansion segment. This is no longer a strictly Hollander or Hojo issue. Human experimentation formed the fundamental core of what ShinRA is now, and those were approved from the very top. As Sephiroth puts it with barely concealed disgust, as soon as the company realized what had fallen into their hands, they became ambitious.

The wording also strikes a contrast to how he used to refer to the company in the past; as such, when Angeal deserts, Sephiroth states that Angeal has betrayed “US”, which points at both his personal connection to the person and the fact that Sephiroth likely saw himself as part of ShinRA circle. In the library, however, he distances himself by referring to the company as THEM, thus no longer perceiving himself as a part of it.

More important still is the rage he expresses when quoting excerpts from Gast's notes. The anger is new, never before seen touch. Sephiroth has been portrayed in the moment differently throughout earlier installments — dejected, perhaps overwhelmed, but never angry enough to snarl and nearly flip the table.

And it's wonderful. It's authentic, and it makes sense. It makes you question how much of that rage has been bottled up, compartmentalized, and never fully processed throughout the years. That rage should have existed, but was suppressed by ShinRA, before becoming internalized and sealed.

The scene is extremely on point on another level as well. As the flash of rage passes, and Sephiroth looks away, hiding eyes behind bangs — a gesture previously briefly appearing in Crisis Core.

One could interpret the body language as being ashamed and unwilling to show his composure cracking. Even in this state he KNOWS he wasn't supposed to let anyone see hurt or anger, wasn't supposed to lose cool. The "wonder child" and the "poster boy" is not to be seen as something other than “efficacious” and “collected”. The habit of suppressing displays of emotion or physical/psychological ailment had apparently become a part of himself. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to deduce why the habit persists. The internalized compulsion to live up to the expectations placed on him by ShinRA and the myth it imposed on his character, as well as the internalized imperative not to reveal to someone like Hojo — anyone— the extent to which their acts or words affect him. There's also another layer to this shame — one of being an artificial creation, but that's for another write up.

The anger towards Gast differs greatly from the way Sephiroth went “Why didn't you tell me?” in previous iterations of the Nibelheim incident. In retrospect, Gast's supervision of the project, involvement in Sephiroth's life, and unexpected departure seem like a betrayal. Gast had not only abandoned Sephiroth, who had likely come to see him as a salient figure in his youth, but had also been lying to him all along, until finally discarding him, as Sephiroth might believe. Gast therefore falls from grace, becoming yet another person who misled, attempted to exploit, and eventually abandoned him to deal with the consequences on his own.

#sephiroth #ff7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #final fantasy vii rebirth #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 remake #ffvii remake #ff7 crisis core #final fantasy vii #ffvii@luv fandoms

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01zfan · 2 months

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pray/want | j. sc

bad boy!sungchan x church girl!reader | 9.5k words

back at it again with another installment of my sacrilegious series! hope you guys enjoy heh. loosely based off of it will come back by hozier.

contains: drug mention, hand stuff (f. and m. receiving), biblical references and allusions to mary magdalene

sacrilegious masterlist

you were too forgiving. too merciful. you were raised to think it was a strength. giving extra grace to people who don’t deserve it. forgiving those who took advantage of you.

it was a problem you had since you were a child. you always considered yourself to be empathetic towards others before you even knew what the word meant. if they were mean to you, they must have been having a bad day. if someone took your toys on the playground, they must have wanted it more. if you were pushed, they must be in a hurry. everyone in your life told you this was a strength to have. they presented your patience as if it was a holy virtue, and it was your duty to give it to everyone. your private christian school only further instilled this mindset. meeting everyone where they were often came at your expense, but you didn’t mind. school was an echo chamber of positivity and life was a bubble inside the padded walls of the church.

sungchan was your first introduction to the world outside. he was a new face at mass, round and young just like yours. you remember being confused at the way they scowled at him, how the elders pinched his sides and told him to pay attention to the preacher. he remained unbothered, always picking at the chipping paint on the pews or messing with the flimsy hand fans. you watched as they called sungchan a problem kid and a troublemaker. you think that the words they whispered about sungchan was the first time you were exposed to the harsh reality of people. you watched those words mold sungchan into the very thing they called him. whispers from the elders told you that he was out doing drugs, having sex with women, and hanging out with the wrong crowd. you remember your parents pulling you aside and telling you to not get involved with him, that he would only drag you down.

your empathetic heart couldn’t stop you from extending an olive branch to sungchan. you didn’t see him as the terrible person they claimed him to be. you saw him as a troubled boy with no guidance. he was still so young, the same age as you with baby fat present on his cheeks.

sungchan taught you that your forgiving heart was a character flaw. it was a problem you were developing, not being able to leave him alone. you were like his silent apostle, set on the mission of fixing his tumultuous relationship with the church. you would sit next to him during youth group and answer for him, singing extra loud during hymns incase he didn’t know the words. your voice had gone raw from talking to him constantly. you would talk to him for ages to only get a simple shrug or a one worded reply. it didn’t stop you, only further encouraged you to try and break down his walls.

you came to him in between mass and individual prayer when you saw him sneak out through a door in the kitchen. you found him outside leaning against the church, smoking right below the kitchen window. all someone had to do was look outside and they could see him.

“you know you’re smoking right in front of the window?” you ask him.

sungchan didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. your polite and slightly nagging voice seemed to follow him everywhere. but sungchan found himself looking to you often, loving the shocked look on your face when he’d shrug his shoulders and blow smoke clouds into the air.

“i don’t care.” sungchan says.

his tone had become flatter over the years, losing that playful lift he had when you first met him. his sentences had become deadpanned words and eyes became stone. it didn’t drive you away, it only did the opposite.

you come down the stairs, lifting your sunday dress as you did so. the flowy fabric grazed your ankles, and revealed your cute frilly socks. sungchan watched you let the dress come back down your legs, using the same hand to motion at his cigarette.

“can i try?” you ask.

sungchan has amusement on his lips as he raises his eyebrows at your question. he takes in another drag, turning his head away so he doesn’t blow smoke in your face.

“you smoke?” sungchan asks.

you shrug your shoulders, trying to copy the way sungchan did it. it feels awkward pretending not to care about anything and you’re sure sungchan can tell that your shoulders stayed up for just a moment too long.

“yeah. sometimes.” you lie.

you don’t know why you are lying to sungchan, or why the lie fell so easily from your lips. you were never the type to ever lie, telling the truth no matter what consequence fell upon you. sungchan looks towards the door to the kitchen. someone could come out at any moment and catch you.

sungchan was intrigued by you. he let his eyebrows fall back down his face and looked away from you to knock the ash from the end of his cigarette. he was intrigued how you continue to stay there while all of his attention went to the ash falling from his cigarette, something that came like second nature to him. sungchan let his eyes go to your clear jelly shoes, something he had only seen children wear. he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a little laugh seeing you nervously rock back on your heels while he basically ignored you.

once the ash had fallen to the ground sungchan walked over to you. he looked down with a smirk as he moved it to your lips. when you tried to grab it with your own hand sungchan raised it just out of your lips reach. you looked at him and he lightly shook his head.

“the smell will get on you, let me hold it.” sungchan said.

he watched you as you took your first drag from the cigarette. you almost went crosseyed to focus on the butt of the cigarette lighting up. it was fine only for a moment, before your lungs that were only used to pulling in air filled up with smog. your lungs started screaming at you and you could feel your throat burn, but sungchan looking at you expectantly egged you on.

“attagirl.” he said once he decided you were done.

he pulled the cigarette away from you and watched you intently.

you could only hold in the smoke for a second before you started coughing profusely. sungchan gently clapped his hand over your back, your face started to burn along with your throat and lungs, embarrassed at how you couldn’t stop coughing. the heat only intensified when you looked up at sungchan. being so close to sungchan made you realize how angelic he looked. he was like a cherub, with his soft cheeks and unblemished skin. you were wondering how anyone in the church could call someone so pretty such awful. he had a smile on his face while looking at you, biting his lip to not laugh in your face. he distracted you almost to the point your body forgot it had to cough, having to turn away from his face to cough into your fist. right before you could cough, you heard the screen door of the kitchen open.

“what are you two doing?” a woman said.

you recognized the woman from the congregation. she had a hand on her hip and the other clutching a purse just a little too big for her close to her chest. her dresses always matched her purse, and you always found your eyes ruefully drifting to the fraying garment of her apparel.

sungchan looked at you, like he was expecting you to lie to the woman. your heaves had turns into slightly labored breathing, clearing your throat to keep yourself from coughing. he saw your expression and decided to take matters into his own hands. he leaned against the wall of the church to hide his hand. he dropped his cigarette to the ground behind him, putting out the end with his heel. he cleared his throat and you cleared yours again. when sungchan straightened his back you did too.

“praying.” sungchan said sarcastically.

the lady rolled her eyes. you saw her sneak a pack of cigarettes back into her purse and she flicked her head towards the door.

“go back inside. they need help setting the table.” she said.

sungchan puts his hands in his pockets and starts heading towards the door. he is unfazed by the light scolding, something he has gotten used to over the years. you, however felt your heart drop at the thought of disappointing someone older than you. the shame is doubled when the older lady stops you before you go inside.

“you’re a good girl. you shouldn’t be hanging out with him. he’s a bad influence.” she said quietly.

you know sungchan could hear it, because his steps falter for a moment before he continues walking out of sight. you nod in haste, wanting the interaction to be over. the lady closes the door and you watch sungchan go past the kitchen. he continues to walk down the hallway of the church, far away from everyone else.

the lady’s warning set the dynamic for your relationship with sungchan. it didn’t stop you from seeing him, it could be argued it made you want to hang out with him more. you had become his goody-two-shoes sidekick, tagging along to his adventures and indulging yourself in his lifestyle.

you had your first drink with sungchan. you remember taking the shot, the clear liquid stinging the back of your throat and making your stomach warm. it had become more enticing to you than the blood of christ that touched your lips during communion. the cheers of your name from the unfamiliar faces around you tempted you to take another.

when your hand reached for the bottom sungchan places his hand over yours. you looked up to sungchan and found the same look on his face of when you took your first drag of the cigarette. you didn’t know a look could be so powerful, giving you the courage to do things you would’ve never done in a thousand years.

you watched sungchan’s friend get a tattoo the same day you got your first piercing in the bathroom. sungchan leaned over the sink to inspect your ear, marking the perfect place. you could feel his hot breath fan your neck as he prepped your ear for the puncture.

“you’re parents might be upset.” sungchan said.

he pulled away from your ear to look at you. he was giving you the chance to back out, to refuse the piercing. but it was that look he gave you that had you shrugging your shoulders—it was starting to come to you naturally.

“i don’t care.” you said.

the truth was you did care, but you cared more about the man dangerously close to you. your parents were the furthest thing from your mind as sungchan went back to looking at your ear, sticking a needle through your lobe. the sound you made caught both you and sungchan by surprise. you bit your lip when he did the other ear, not trying to make that sound in front of him again. your teeth nearly drew blood from your lip when sungchan moved backwards to inspect you, making sure the punctures were even.

when sungchan turned you around in the mirror he stood behind you as you checked out the new jewelry. you turned your head, trying to take it all in. you looked to your ears then sungchan, standing behind you with his hand on your shoulders.

“it’s pretty.” you said.

sungchan looked into the mirror to look into your eyes.

“yes. very pretty.” sungchan said.

just when you thought you had sungchan, he disappeared. it was like he was a ghost or a figment of your imagination. one day he was sitting next to you in the pews and the next day he wasn’t. he stopped coming to church, his parents stopped coming too. rumors spread that he had runaway after a particularly bad argument with his parents. the fact that his parents were too ashamed to come back made you assume they did something awful the church didn’t want to admit.

sungchan was even harder to get in contact with. each time you had hung out with him he came and found you. when you wanted to reach him, you realized you had no way to do so.

not being able to see him led to your imagination running wild. everyday you would go outside to the kitchen window where he would smoke, looking out into the forest that surrounded your church. your mind had helplessly come up with a scenario each time you’d walk down the steps. your mind conjured up the image of sungchan hiding in the trees, scared to be seen by anyone else but you. after seeing sungchan you’d stop in your tracks, so surprised to see him standing there. you had practiced your facial expressions, letting your eyebrows raise and your eyes get large. you saw yourself mindlessly walking over to him when he’d beckon to you. you imagined that he would bring you in for a kiss, a type of kiss that would make up for the months of all the yearning and pining.

then afterwards you imagined that sungchan would tell you how much he missed you, not being able to find god at the parties of the bottom of shot glasses. you’d then walk him back to the church and have the congregation apologize for pushing his soul to stray even further away from the path of god. you wondered about a christian wedding, going full traditional. having kids that were baptized for everyone to see. everything about you two would be by the holy book, except for sex. you don’t think you could wait that long.

your manifestation of sungchan coming to you didn’t come to fruition. you didn’t see sungchan until months later as you were leaving choir practice. the expression you had practiced didn’t pan out the way you wanted to. your binder fell from your hands, sheet music falling onto the rocky parking lot.

sungchan came over to help you quickly, catching papers before they could run away in the wind. you had bent down to take the music from him, but you were frozen, stuck in place looking at sungchan. he didn’t say a word to you until your papers were safely tucked away again in your binder, closing it and putting it back in your hands. he looked to you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. your feet were stuck to the ground keeping you both in the squat position.

“hi.” sungchan said quietly.

you nodded you head and cleared your throat. you hung onto your binder, the only thing keeping you present.

“where have you been?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

you had a white knuckle grip on your flimsy plastic binder. you don’t know why you were so nervous to ask sungchan a question. in his absence he had become someone you didn’t want to doubt, scared that he would leave you again.

sungchan’s face flashes for a moment before he stands up. he dusts himself off, metaphorically wiping your question off of him. he holds out his hand for you and you grab it, surprised at how clammy his hand is on yours.

once you’re up you still stare at him like he’s a ghost.

“can i take you somewhere?” sungchan asks.

it was dangerous to have sungchan in your life. you found yourself nodding quickly to every question he had, you think you would leave the church the same way he did if he held your hand while you walked out. seeing sungchan smile outside of the church made you wonder what life was like outside of it. maybe it was nice and you would be happier than you were here. so you nodded as he led you to the motorcycle that looked similar to his fathers.

he helped you to the back and took a helmet out of the side compartment. he coaxed your musical binder from your hands to put it in there, tightening the leather strap to keep it safe. you were nearly shaking with anxiety as sungchan put on his helmet too, throwing his leg over to straddle the seat.

the engine revved underneath you, and your hands that were previously gripping your binder were now clenched at your sides. you waited for sungchan to reach behind him and guide your hands to clasp around his waist.

“hold on tight.” sungchan said as he pushed away the kickstand.

your words were drowned out by the sound of the motorcycle leaving the parking lot. you held onto him, letting your head rest against his back as he hit the throttle. you thought that the road sungchan was taking you down at an unbelievable speed could be comparable to your life. the fear that came with your future turned to excitement when sungchan turned around and looked at you, asking if you were having fun. everything that was scary seemed fun when you had your arms around sungchan’s waist, even the idea of getting into an accident on the motorcycle turned into a thrill for you. it was the same thrill that sungchan always seemed to give you. it was one that only subsided when you used the same hand that signed the cross on yourself underneath the sheets. you pressed your hands flat against his stomach, feeling how solid he was through his shirt. sungchan’s back vibrated against your head from laughing.

sungchan didn’t move your hands until the motorcycle was parked. your eyes didn’t open until the engine stopped roaring and sungchan gently touched you to let you know you had both arrived. you don’t know how long your eyes were squeezed shut to get here. you opened your eyes to sungchan standing in front of you, helping you out of your helmet. this was somehow more intimate than having your arms wrapped around his waist as you two plummeted down the highway. you had to look away for your own good, focusing on the concert venue that had a steady stream of people going in. you saw people dressed like sungchan going in, various crowds of people were around the concert hall smoking while others tipped their heads back and wiped their noses.

“have you ever listened to music that wasn’t religious?” sungchan said.

he had leaned against his motorcycle as you took in the view around you. it felt like you were dropped in a different dimension or alternate reality from your own. you had no idea that people like this existed so close to your modest township. it was all so foreign to you that you couldn’t even find the words to describe the aesthetic. the words came and went, trying to define ripped skinny jeans and people cursing freely. what this had to do with music was beyond you, but before you could answer sungchan’s question you saw him turn his head towards someone in the moving mass of people.

“sungchan! you’re fucking late!”

you followed the voice until it landed on someone dressed similarly to sungchan. black leather jacket and ripped skinny jeans, with hair that was so black it shined underneath the street lamps. he looked younger than you and sungchan, he had an innocent look about him that betrayed the clothes he was sporting. the only thing you had in common with the person in front of you was the same beat up shoes you both everyday. you felt nervous and out of place, like you didn’t belong here.

“who is this?” the boy said.

he seemed to know you didn’t belong here either, his voice significantly lower than when he called to his friend. the boys gaze went back to sungchan after giving you a once over. you did the same, looking to sungchan like you didn’t know who you were.

“this is,” sungchan looked like he was contemplating for a moment. a hand that was supporting his body against his motorcycle pointed towards you. “my friend from church.” sungchan said.

anton’s eyes got big for a moment, head slightly tilting in confusion. it was almost like a lightbulb went off anton’s his head a second later. anton turned to you, his face suddenly neutral.

“oh. nice to meet you. i’m anton.”

he didn’t offer his hand out to you, they stayed stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. he nodded his head and you did your best to copy him. it felt just like when you started shrugging your shoulders to copy sungchan. anton took his phone from his back pocket and showed the time to sungchan. it was about to be your curfew.

“wonbin is about to be on soon.” anton said.

“let’s go then.” sungchan said.

sungchan pushed himself off his bike and started following the crowd heading towards the building. you followed behind the two men, not really having anywhere else to go. you couldn’t help but stare at every face you passed by, wondering where all these kids your age had come from.

the only indication that showed you were in your town still was that the building had the same look as everything else in your town. there was a certain archaic and abandoned look to the building on the exterior. the brick had cracks the painting was chipped, and vegetation grew along the edges. the closer you, sungchan, and anton got to the building you could make out the faded sign of what the building once was. it was a factory who knows how long ago, and judging by the size business was booming at one point. now it was honing beacon for all the rebels in your town, young adults that were the same age as you but looked wiser and seemed significantly more mature. you had always been proud of your innocence when it came to life, but your lack of experience weighed down on you heavy as you looked past the large doors into the unknown.

you saw two burly men guarding the entrance dressed in all black with shades on even though it was nighttime. both of their eyes immediately went to you, and you felt even more out of place than before. sungchan followed their eyes to see what they were looking at. he grabbed your hand and you grabbed it back, trying to seem as casual as possible. sungchan visibly straightened his shoulders a little more, his hand settling on something in his back pocket. you saw anton show his ID to the other bouncer while sungchan’s hand led you to the other one. the bouncer held out his hand but before he could ask for your ID, sungchan smiled big at him.

“she’s with me.” sungchan said cheerfully.

“still need to see ID.” he said.

you see sungchan pull whatever it was from his back pocket and hand it to the bouncer. it’s something small, but sungchan’s body blocks your line of sight to see exactly what it is. the bouncer gives you one last look and you can’t stop yourself from looking down at your feet. you’re sure it is painfully obvious you shouldn’t be here. the bouncer takes mercy on you for some reason and nods his head. sungchan pulls you by your hand to drag you inside. the bouncer only continues to look at you for a second before tending to the next person in line.

the inside of the venue was completely opposite of the outside. if the outside was worn down the interior looked like it was recently experienced a complete rebirth. the ground you thought would be cracked concrete was reworked hardwood. the mass of people coming in walked towards a medium sized stage, where a curtain was drawn hiding who was behind it. this was what you imagined to be a concert venue now, equipped with stands on both sides for extra people. you didn’t know something like this existed in your town. you stopped for a moment and anton looked back at you smiling.

“first time?” anton asked.

sungchan looked between you and anton with an apprehensive look. you almost felt like you shouldn’t talk to him before you nodded your head yes.

“this is like sunday mass but for a different type of congregation.” anton said.

you don’t know anton said it to poke fun at you, the smile on his lips fading when he looked at sungchan. but it made complete sense. everyone looked the same, dressed in attire for the occasion the same way you dressed every sunday morning. anton and sungchan bobbed and weaved through the crowd, sungchan leading you through the mass of people until you ended up on the side. anton said something to the security guard, leaning in close before turning around and pointing at you and sungchan. the security guard faltered for a moment before stepping back and pulling open the safety gate. the three of you walked through and made it on the other side of the curtain to a smaller room.

immediately when you walk in the something musty and pungent fills your nose. it’s strong and almost skunky. you look to anton and sungchan—they are unfazed. you don’t comment on the overwhelming smell, or the smoke that filled the small room.

you only remember being in the room for ten minutes before your perception of time changed. one moment you just suddenly felt yourself looking to the clock every ten minutes to see that only two had passed. you sat on the couch while sungchan navigated the whole room. they listened to every word and the way they followed him around made you think of disciples. it made you giggle, you smiling into your hand when sungchan came to you on the couch.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan asked.

he had a smile of his own now, and his eyes were low and bleary. when you forgot the answer you just kept smiling. sungchan smiled back at you. you were giggling while sungchan when sungchan told his friend to break a leg, and you were giggling when sungchan grabbed you hand and took you to the bathrooms. you laughed at how piss covered the floors and how there was no toilet paper or soap in the dispensers. you were nearly in tears when sungchan started stuffing pieces of toilet paper into your ears as makeshift ear plugs. he was laughing too, quelling your worries that the toilet paper would get stuck in your ears.

whatever you felt had died down by the time the show started, the loud music pulling you from your trance. the music thumped in your chest, you had to hold a hand to your heart to make sure it was still beating. sungchan seemed unbothered by being so close to the speakers though. he was cheering and singing along with his friend on stage. sungchan smiled more than you had ever seen him do so in church, and he knew all the words unlike the latin hymns he mouthed unsuccessfully during service.

everyone sang along to the lyrics except for you, bodies bumped into yours and everyone was pushing. if it wasn’t for sungchan behind you, you were sure you would’ve been swallowed up into the crowd. the music was nothing like what you were used to, but you tried to enjoy it anyway. it was different to see what rebels your age were doing while you were busy knowing nothing about life beyond your oratory.

the music blared from the stage, the bass made the floor underneath your feet shake. it went right through the soles of your shoes and travelled up from the balls of your feet. the bass went all the way to your head, shaking the individual hairs and rattling your skull. it was like all your senses were being taken away from you and replaced solely with the music that played onstage.

you could barely make out anything from the strobing lights, as fast as you were granted vision it was ripped away. the flashing lights contributed to the energy of the people surrounded you, like a ticking time bomb as gasoline filled all the way to the ceiling. everyone’s restless bodies started colliding when the music intensified. you don’t know if people started forgetting there were bodies around them as the music got louder and louder. it was the same way it was at sunday service. you saw people be overcome with emotion as they pushed to the music. they were swayed by the band on stage the same way your congregation was swayed by the priest. but just like there and just like now, the only thing that swayed you was sungchan. the only difference was that in church you could only dream about how close he was to you now. his hands rested on your hips as he guarded your body from the people moving around you. you felt his wet lips place a kiss to your neck, so soft and gentle unlike the harsh music that played onstage and the hectic crowd of people that surrounded you.

sungchan’s wet lips pressed to your skin. you could feel the heat coming off his body in waves, and you were sweating on your own. the air seemed to vibrate as sungchan worked his way up to your ear before kissing the shell and leaning further in. you could feel his chest come close to your back as he whispered in your ear.

“i missed you.” sungchan said against your neck.

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear what sungchan said to you. his voice had intent, but it was supposed to be drowned out by the riffing guitar onstage and the bass that vibrated the speakers next to you. but when sungchan spoke to you, it cut through all the noise. it made the pulsing bodies surrounding you disappear. suddenly it was just you and sungchan in the venue--maybe in the whole world.

you knew that whatever you said would be lost over the sound of the music. you just tilted your head until it rested on sungchan’s and nodded, to make sure he knew you felt the same way.

you knew sungchan understood when his hands on your hip dug into the your church dress. the fabric stood no chance against his grip, it was almost like there wwas nothing there at all as sungchan held you tight.

“i want you.” he said into your ear.

you smiled as you looked ahead to the stage. want was so juvenile to you. you learned about want and have felt want for so long that it came to you like breathing. the want you were taught about in church was subject to god’s will. what you felt for sungchan couldn’t be contingent on anyone, not even if they were all knowing.

what you needed couldn’t be defined as something so simple as want. it was defined as a burning desire and something you pretended wasn’t a necessity until now. the same way you taught sungchan about the bible you planned to teach him about something else. so while you were shoulder to shoulder with sweaty pushing strangers you turned around to face him. sungchan was still leaned over to kiss your neck when you put both hands to his face to pull him in. he kissed you with want but you kissed him back with necessity. it was carnal the way you took his bottom lip into your mouth and the way the bass in your moan rang in both of your mouths. you only took a hand away from sungchan’s face to push his hands lower on your body. he gripped your ass as you deepened the kiss. you kissed sungchan so eagerly that his face was being pushed back as he tried to reciprocate.

when the song ended you pulled away first. sungchan was in the same place you left him, with his eyes closed and head tilted. his lips were red and swollen. want couldn’t compare to what you felt. you could fill this warehouse to the ceiling with want. what you felt for the man before you was something that could only be expressed underneath the sanctified sheets of your bed.

“my parents are asleep around this time. they don’t get up till afternoon service.” you said.

you said it at normal volume, still thinking it was just you and sungchan. the lights around you barely illuminated your face as your faced sungchan. your voice was lost in the screaming crowd, and sungchan could hardly make out the words your lips mouthed. so he looked into your eyes, he let them guide his next actions as he nodded his head. sungchan looked down to see your hand and your gaze fix on the exit.

the show was over when sungchan grabbed your hand and led you to the exit. it was sungchan who was pushing concertgoers now, bumping into people without care if they were in the way. you trailed behind him, bumping into people as a result of it. you apologized to who you could, but someone giving you a hard look was the least of your worries. you would repent for being impatient later.

you and sungchan beat the crowd leaving the venue. he didn’t bother to look for his friend or to say goodbye. sungchan was only focused on making sure his spare motorcycle helmet was secure on your head before kicking his bike off the ground.

you held onto sungchan’s waist as you sped down the highway towards your home. you took the risk to let go of him when he hit the highway. he slowed down on the empty road to let you spread your arms out. you felt the wind around you, and you hoped it would carry away the smell of cigarettes and skunk that stuck to your clothes. sungchan still knew the way, and he knew to park his motorcycle on the side of the road instead of pulling up to the driveway.

you looked to sungchan one last time before opening the door to your home. he was on his own path that deviated from the church a long time ago. you weren’t sure what he was doing besides enjoying music and doing drugs, but it didn’t matter. him being outside of the church as you were leaving had to be something like divine intervention.

it was that intervention that led sungchan down your creaky hallway, sneaking past your parents that were sleeping on the couch. with a finger to your lips sungchan found himself following someone else’s orders for the first time in awhile, taking the same steps as you to be as quiet as possible.

sungchan walked down your hallway that was adorned with crosses and decorations of angels. he was sure he saw the statue of jesus on the top of a table, and a painting of his birth was stuck to the wall. sungchan let you pass by him so you could slowly open the door of your bedroom. he looked down the hallway to see the glow from the television casted on the wall. he heard the low sound of a late night televangelist before hearing your voice.

“sungchan.”

you called to him gently from the depth of your room. he couldn’t see from his spot in the shadow of your hallway, so his feet carried him until he was beside your doorframe.

sungchan saw you sitting on the center of your bed. you were still in your dress, but sungchan felt like you were laying yourself bare before him. he was frozen in place underneath the rosary that draped your doorframe. he was compelled to do the sign of the cross over his body, but nothing could make him move. it wasn’t until you beckoned to him that sungchan took a deep breath before taking a step into your room.

sungchan said nothing about the religious paraphernalia in your room. suddenly the crosses you had collected over the course of your life was humiliating as sungchan looked at every single one of them. you motioned for him to turn off the lights as he closed the door behind him, but the miniature figure of christ you had on your desk could still be seen in the dead of night. sungchan almost felt like something terrible would happen to him if he mentioned it, like getting struck by lightning or your parents suddenly coming into your room.

the only thing that kept sungchan calm was looking at you. you felt unrest seeing sungchan stand still in your doorway. he must’ve still feared something judging him by the way he looked at you. you patted the space on the bed beside you, adjusting yourself on your knees to seem as welcoming as possible.

sungchan sat on the bed next to you, his legs leaning over the side of the bed. he was ready to get up and leave at any moment. you’re body head to toe is tingling with excitement, and you want to remind sungchan about the want he told you about earlier. you turn your back to him and reveal the zipper down the back of your dress.

“can you help me?” you ask.

sungchan says nothing, but you can feel the pads of his fingers hold the fabric surrounding your zipper in place while he brings the other hand to the zipper itself. you can feel the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your neck that the dress doesn’t cover. you shake as your hear the metal teeth open down your back, and the cold skin of your room touches your skin.

when the zipper is all the way down, sungchan brings his hand to your two shoulders. he slowly helps your arms out of the sleeves, and you let it fall off your body. you can hear him exhale and feel his breath fan the skin of your back. sungchan brings hesitant fingers to the clasp of your bra. you can hear him behind you shuffle to move his body further on the bed.

“can i?” sungchan whispers.

you swallow and nod your head.

“yes.” you say quietly.

sungchan misses the clasp on the first try, and it catches you off guard when your chest suddenly feels free after his second attempt. he helps you out of the bra the same way he did with your dress. you let it fall off your body, falling on top of the pile your dress made.

you stretch the curve or your back. sungchan only looks at your shoulder blades, too nervous to move any further. you lift the top of your dress from the bed and press it to your bare chest. you look behind your shoulder to look at sungchan. his eyes break from your shoulders to your eyes, and then to your lips. sungchan watches you as you move backwards onto the bed, giving him space to move in front of you.

the two of you sit in the silence of your room, looking to eachother. you can hear the sound of the wind blowing outside, and the sound of a loud commercial break on the television in the living room. you move underneath the loose fabric of your dress and bring your legs closer to your body. sungchan shifts too, and you can see his hand reach out before he brings it back to his body. he lets his finger press into the duvet on your bed as you clear your throat.

“do you still want me?” you ask.

sungchan nods his head and moves forward towards you. he still hesitates, not letting his hand that’s on your calf go up any higher.

“i want you so bad. you don’t understand.” sungchan said.

you hated that you understood what sungchan meant all too well. you could sit here and debate the logistics with him, how you could teach him what it feels like to truly yearn something like the way you yearned for him. you wanted to show sungchan about passion that went beyond want, and you longed to drive him so crazy that he would feel the same burning desire you felt when you didn’t see him for all that time. so you grab sungchan’s hand and guide it to the dress you had let go of. it rested on your body like covers, ready to be taken off if sungchan was willing. he looked to you and you nodded your head as he held your dress.

sungchan pulled the dress away from you slowly, revealing more and more of you to him. you gasped as you felt his eyes on you. by the time sungchan takes your dress fully off, you are only left in your cross pendant and underwear. sungchan is entranced, eyes dragging down your whole body. he lifts your legs to help pull the dress off all the way. sungchan gently drops your clothes over the edge of your bed. you point at sungchan’s shirt, and he takes off his shirt and pants too.

you are both left in your underwear underneath the plethora of crosses on your wall. the bible is next to your bed on the table with a rosary piled neatly on top. it’s ignored when you sit on your bed and spread your bent legs slightly. sungchans hand starts from your feet, tracing up your leg slowly until he reaches your knee. his fingers come down your leg as he slots his body in between them.

his fingers don’t stop until he thumbs the cross pendant on your necklace.

“sign of the cross.” sungchan says quietly.

you settle further into your bed, and spread your legs further.

“do you remember how to do it?” you ask

sungchan nods before bringing three fingers from his right hand to your bare body. he touched your forehead, then dragged his fingers down the valley of your chest to your solar plexus. sungchan touched both of your shoulders, using your collarbone as a guide. you let out a breath sigh of amen, but sungchan didn’t do the same. he brought his hand back to your stomach, going lower and lower on your body. he looked at you for permission, and you nodded and spread your legs further.

you felt the carnal desire that evolved from want fill your room to the brim as sungchan let his fingers go underneath the waistband of your panties. he teased you only for a second, the pads of his fingers bumping your clit before his fingers went further down your folds. you gasped when sungchan finally put his fingers inside of you. he kept his fingers still for a moment inside of you, waiting for you to adjust and move first. you wasted no time pulling your hips back to bring them forward again as you used sungchan’s fingers to pleasure yourself.

he brought his other hand to your lower stomach, feeling the supple skin of your stomach.

“i’m so bad for you, you know.” sungchan said.

his actions differed from his words. the way he had his fingers on you made you feel so good, and the high you felt from the drugs in your system and the rush from the night made you want to continue chasing that feeling. so you ignore sungchan’s indirect warnings and continued to push your hips to meet his fingers.

“i can save you.” you whimper quietly.

sungchan looked from your hips to your eyes. he looked deep into you but you didn’t shy away. you continued to push your hips to feel his fingers go inside of you deeper. you didn’t break eye contact until sungchan bent his fingers and hit a spot you didn’t know existed. you bit your lip and tilted your head back. your whole body leaned, forcing you to prop yourself up on your outstretched hands behind you.

sungchan moved from his spot on the bed to get closer you. he hovered over your body, his hand on top of yours as his other hand continued to pump in and out of your body. you looked up at sungchan, spreading your legs further as sungchan took over. he let you rest as he started doing all the work. he wanted it to be fast, seeing your chest jump as his finger started pistoning into you. you brought your hand that was free to hold sungchan’s bicep. he still held your gaze, nodding as you let quiet moans fall from your lips. your eyes closed in bliss—you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth.

“oh my god.” you sighed.

“i know.” sungchan whispered back.

sungchan kept going, even through the pain of you digging your nails into his skin. he kept going even when you fell to your back and closed your thighs around his hand. sungchan didn’t stop until you cried out his name from your pillow and slick want came from you. you clamped around his fingers and sungchan scissored them inside of you, trying to give you all you could take. he didn’t stop until your legs slid down your bed and you used a weak hand to pull his fingers out of you.

sungchan watched you bring your hand to your chest as you stared at the ceiling. sungchan laid on the bed next to you and placed a hand next to yours. he could feel your heart pounding in its cage. he brought a hand to his heart and he could feel it beat with the same urgency.

you let yourself relax next to sungchan. you let your hand go down his body. you do the same thing sungchan did to your body, your three fingers grazing across his body before going underneath the waistband of his boxers. you look up and kiss sungchan’s forehead as you wrap your hand around his length. it’s heavy and twitches in your hand as you slowly stroke him.

his usual demeanor crumbles almost instantly, he is the vulnerable one underneath your touch. he pushes his body further up until he is resting against the headboard of your bed and you follow him. you face sungchan as you continue pumping his length, and his hands dig into your sheets. you come closer to his lips to kiss him again, trying to swallow the tiny sighs he lets out. sungchan gives you the reins and you let desire take control of your actions. desire makes you pull down sungchan’s waistband and it makes you put your tongue into his mouth. sungchan pulls his underwear off the rest of the way and you take a peak at his length. in the darkness of your room the moonlight comes in perfectly, giving you just enough sight. you can see your hand glisten in the light as it goes up and down sungchan’s dick. it’s a soft wet sound, only magnified by the quiet of the night.

sungchan grips your hand and tightens it around his length. he starts lifting his hips to fuck himself up into your hand and you watch his body work to bring himself pleasure. you can see the sweat form on his taut skin, and his hair starts to stick to his forehead from the exertion. sungchan can barely bring himself to look at you as he chases his own pleasure. you force him to make eye contact when you move his bangs from his face and lift his gaze with fingers underneath his chin. the pace he set with his thrusts falter for a second when he looks into your eyes. you help him by bringing your hand down faster and tighten the grip of your hand. you can feel sungchan’s hand clasp around yours further, and how his thighs start to shake from the work of thrusting.

that’s what separates you and sungchan. his want drives him to hastily fuck your hand, trying to reach a high that only came to him hours ago. what you needed has had time to ferment. it started as want—you wanted sungchan to come to church. you wanted him to find his path. you wanted him to kiss you. but it had time to brew in your stomach over the time time you didn’t see him and when your mind was forced to fill in the gaps. it was like a wound, festering on your skin and reopened anytime sungchan came into your orbit. he knew nothing about yearning or craving something the way you did. but you kept pumping your hand for him, because you wanted to keep him coming back for more. you wanted to become a wound on his skin and burn the fleeting touches into his brain. you were going to become something sungchan longed for, and maybe over that time your own craving would subside. sungchan would need you and you would be able to use a word as weak as want to describe how you feel about him.

when sungchan’s hand go back into your panties, your hand faltered. you looked to sungchan bewildered, but he only looked back at you with blown out eyes. his eyes consumed you while his bitten lips drew you in again. maybe sungchan already felt the same as you, he was just better at hiding it. maybe the plan you had for sungchan would end up destroying the both of you. you didn’t care as you helplessly rutted into his fingers. if desire killed you before it subsided to want you would be okay with it. if you were to die at the hands of something that felt so good, you would welcome it with open arms.

you brought your mouth away from sungchan’s to go to his neck. you suck and bit at his skin, and he brought a hand to your back to bring you closer. you were kneeling beside his body, praying into the skin of sungchan’s neck as he whimpered next to you. in the comfort of your bed kneeling wasn’t painful. you wondered why you spent so much of your life kneeling for forgiveness on the rough ground of the outside world or the padded walls of your church. you wasted your time kneeling to anything but pleasure.

your revelation hits you the same time it hits sungchan. he thrusts into your hand once more before staying there. he whined quietly as his hand presses deeper into your back and inside of you. you can feel his dick twitch and warmth covers his hand and yours in spurts. you continue to pump his dick as he becomes a mess underneath you and you grind your hips on his hand so you can feel your own revelation again. your body turns to jello for the second time of the night as you lean your entire body weight against sungchan’s chest. you can’t stop letting your sounds increase in volume as you lean further into sungchan’s chest. you let your sounds out into his clammy skin as he continues to finger you. you have to take your hand from his dick and pull his hand out so you can calm down.

“i’m sorry.” sungchan says.

he wraps both arms around you and brings you weak body in for a hug. you only shake your head, trying to form a coherent thought.

”it’s okay.” you whine.

after you come back from heaven, you realize exhaustion is starting to weigh down on your body. you’ve had a busy day, the adrenaline high crashes down on you fast. you end up drifting to sleep still leaned against sungchan’s body, but he is left wide awake. he only says your name once, slightly shaking your body to see if you will come to. you don’t wake up, and sungchan uses what’s left of his energy to slide down from the headboard so you’re both laying on the bed. sungchan feels the mess he made over his hands and stomach. he believes that he doesn’t have a home here, or the right to lay in your bed. so he gently moves your sleeping body, pulling your hand wrapped around his waist and turning you so you lay on the pillow. your body instantly adapts, pulling in a blanket to hold it the same way you were holding him.

sungchan gets up from your bed and starts putting his clothes back on. it’s slow and hesitant—he does everything in his power to keep you asleep. sungchan starts walking towards your door with his jacket and belt in hand when he hears shuffling on your bed.

“do you need a place to sleep tonight?” you whisper sleepily.

sungchan froze before he could turn the handle. he looked back at you, seeing your state and he nodded solemnly. you thought even in the dark of night you could see his crestfallen face, or maybe it was waves that radiated off of him in droves. you thought for the night he wouldn’t be alone as you lifted up the corner of your sheets, showing an empty spot just for him. sungchan came from your doorway to your bed, setting his jacket on the back of your chair and taking off his jeans. in just his boxers and shirt he crawled underneath the covers. he held open his arms, showing he had a spot for you too. you nestled into him without hesitation, tucking your head underneath his chin.

“i would give you anything you need.” you whispered into sungchan’s chest.

his arms around your body wrapped around you more, pulling you closer. you had almost wished he had drifted off to sleep. you wanted to whisper into his chest that he could come to you like a stray cat, wounded and hungry and you’d take him in each time. you wanted to tell him that you didn’t care if you were too forgiving or too naive. you wanted to be there for him like a saint if it meant you could continue to receive his offerings. if you enabled him until there was nothing left you would savor each moment you had with him. if you ended up saving sungchan you would make a future with him.

sungchan knew that he wouldn’t be able to rid himself of you even if he tried. something about you entranced him and had him wanting to come back. maybe it was the way you prayed with the same hands you used to undress yourself backstage. he imagined nights in the near future of him sitting on the edge of your bed while you gave him a show. maybe it was a trauma response. sungchan knew that the life he was living would drain him emotionally and physically. if he were to appear on your doorstep in the dead of the night after a show or a bender he knew your forgiving heart would let him in. he knew you couldn’t bare to see someone else in pain, especially if it was him.

you both knew the dynamic you two were actively changing all night was going to become volatile later down the line. you would end up taking mercy on sungchan’s self-destructive lifestyle in exchange for the freedom he brought you, while sungchan would use you to recuperate before going out and destroying himself some more. you would try to change him under the guise of showing him “the light” and he would corrupt you under the guise of showing you life outside the church. who needed who more would only become blurred and several lines would be crossed. you both knew you were trapping yourselves in a vicious cycle, one that you would probably go through on your own to keep it a secret from the church and your family.

it didn’t matter when sungchan sighed contently and kissed your forehead. his lips were soft against your skin, it brought you the same comfort the church used to bring you. so you sighed from the comfort and settled further in your tomb, underneath the six layers of your clothes and blankets. your body was still cold, the only thing that brought warmth was sungchan’s body. it made you feel like you were alive, like you would be reborn when you emerged from the covers in the morning.

“you know i’ll be back.” sungchan said clearly.

when you woke up the next morning, sungchan had dug himself out from under the blankets. he had risen revived from your forgiveness while you were left alone in the grave.

#01zfan: sungchan #seriez: sacrilegious #sungchan smut #riize smut

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msbyslilbimbo · 5 months

Text

Gojo has a thing for tickling >:(

It’s probably a little something, something he accidentally discovered when he was a teen and harassing poor Suguru because he was just so helpless and looked so pretty laughing and squirming.

And let’s be real- if Suguru did mind, he didn’t say anything.

But it’s just something that has this weird twist on him, a branch of foreplay that keeps him in an act of dominance that may not have even needed to be there.

Like now.

The feeling of you writhing on top of him has his head spinning wildly, hips moving and shifting and lips battling has him in his own paradise he could happily get lost in.

Lips battle for dominance, tongues lacing to tease and teeth clacking against one another for feral carnality and lust. It's a miracle he's able to hold his own, you're a goddess incarnate, especially now as you're draped on top of him, tits bouncing with each slurp against each other filthily.

“I fucking love you,” he murmurs, teeth sinking into your lip.

When a massive paw clamps down on your ass to make you moan, blunt nails gripping the plush of flesh in his hands, Satoru is thrown off when you let out a breathy laugh.

Quiet, and easy. But still, a laugh.

He pulls back in confusion.

Your eyes are blown with pleasure and your lips are glossy with spit, but the way your body is tense tells him everything he needs to know about your little reaction.

"What's wrong?" You pant.

"There's no way."

"No way what?" You're a pretty liar, he'll give you credit there.

"There's no fucking way," he sneers, sinking his teeth into his own lip as his blue eyes look you up and down. His fingers briefly tickle you again, and you whine and giggle a hiss out.

"Don't-"

"Is this pretty little ass ticklish too, babygirl?”

"It’s not!" You say petulantly.

"You're not really in a position to lie to me, are ya?" He teases, letting his fingers slowly start their rhythmic tickling once again, and you let out a string of giggles despite yourself, whatever you could try to conjure into a lie being outed as such.

“Satoru!” You squeal, head bumping against him as a way to make him stop. Your nerves are electric with each scritch of his fingers along your sensitive ass and back, fingers fisting locks of his fluffy hair to ground yourself from the electric feeling. "Stohohop it!"

"Liar's get tickled, babe. You know the rules."

“Toru-!” You whine, shoving his chest while his fingers continue to skitter over your lower back and thighs. “I can’t- ha!”

“Need you to use your words, babygirl,” he chuckles, landing a loud spank to your ass. That, immediately, has you replacing your giggles with moans to sing in the air, but the moment is cut off when he just tickles you some more.

"Th-This-This isn't sexyyyyyy!" You groan around laughter.

"I have no clue what you're talking about, this is fuckin' hot."

With your gyrating hips over his, you’re met with his own anatomy reacting to you, stiff and firm under your writhing victimization. His eyes are blown with pleasure, hazy and leaving all coordination to his fingers. His teeth sinks into his lip.

Fuck, he's so turned on it's painful.

“A-ahHA-Re you fuhuhucking ha-AH-ard?!”

“I’m not not hard,” he snicker. He leans down to sink his teeth into the juncture of your throat, making you whine. “Fuck, baby.”

“I chahahant come like thIHIHIS!”

“You’re a fat liar.” Once again, the hands stop tickling you, and one of them darts straight between your legs to stroke the new, surprising wet spot on your panties. You mewl happily as the sensation, and he smirks, “you like this too, don’t you?”

You can’t say anything, he starts tickling you again, this time moving up to your sides and stomach and making you whine and cackle loudly, but one hand stays buried between your thighs, slipping past your underwear and slipping two fingers inside of your velveteen walls through the soaked lace. Your arousal is shrouded in laughter and whines, seeping through your panties and staining the fabric of his pants. “Holy fuck.”

“Satoruuu!” You whine.

Your hips, in search of something to feed the throbbing between your hips, grates against his, the zipper of his pants slotting almost too perfectly between your legs to nip at your clit, and you whimper in delight as you’re finally getting the relief you need in addition to the feeling you’re getting with this…. Sensation.

“Gonna cum-“

“Told you.”

“Dont w-HAHA-hahahanna!” You plead. “Not like this!”

He smirks and sinks his teeth into the meat of your bouncing breast, another sing of pleasure passing your lips.

“I don’t think you have a say in it, doll.

“Gonna make you love cumming like this.”

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oakbuggy · 5 months

Text

Liar, Liar chapter 1

Recom!Neteyam x female OC

Summary : Tala of the Tawkami gets captured by a familiar face and to both of their misfortune, they are trapped together due to circumstance. They are extremely vexed by this and each other and also very horny.

Warnings: Minors DNI, non-con+dub-con, explicit smut, dirty talk, authority, power struggle, mentions+depictions of blood, minor violence, character death, marking, biting, scenting

!! Each chapter will have images throughout the chapter, only the AO3 will have the NSFW-uncensored versions. Please keep this in mind as you read !!

Chapter 1 (NSFW) ~5.2k words

AO3 Link Here!

Prev Chapter / Next Chapter

Tala grimaced every time a bullet was fired, noisily ripping through the greenery no matter where it was aimed.

She stayed huddled in a thicket, eyes darting through the leaves and flowers and rain.

Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. They were supposed to be the scouting party, that’s it, it wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. But the tawtute sterile and foul scents proved otherwise.

The sudden downpour helped to mask all individual Navi scents, but it also made it harder to know where anyone was. Seeing a cluster of roots with just enough space for her smaller body to fit, Tala slid into the safety of the crevice, disturbing only blades of grass.

At least, that’s what she hoped.

And she was glad her years of alchemy training didn’t fail her because through the blood, ash, and mist, she smelled a much less offensive sterile scent. The rain was dampening it, but the odor of tawtute fabric stuck to their skin. Just her luck to have a dream walker hovering so close to her, but better her than another. She was technically a warrior, as all alchemists of the Tawkami went through the same rites of passage, but she honestly barely qualified as a fighter. Tala would’ve wildly preferred being someone’s pretty mate and just experiment all day for new recipes and poultices.

Tala stayed absolutely still, her green eyes glued to the entrance of the roots. She looked down at her hands, her entire body folded into the smallest ball she could be, frowning a bit at the scars and scuffles. She could imagine her friend scolding her for paying attention to such things when she was being actively pursued-

A gun’s barrel burst through the entrance of the roots and shot through her hair.

Tala screamed and thrashed, kicking the gun out of the way she forced her body outside of the root’s crevice. She reached into her satchel on her hip and flung coarse powder into the assailant’s face. The rain solidified on the soldier’s face and she scrambled away through the jungle.

The RDA soldier coughed and hissed behind her, empty-handed save for one of the pink flowers that were decorated throughout Tala’s hair. He crushed it and gave chase, abandoning the gun. He didn’t need it.

Tala jumped through all manner of branches and foliage. If she had time to think, Tala would be praying to Eywa now to save her, air burning her lungs.

The dream walker was insufferably graceful, talented at keeping his eyes on her. Tala dared a look back and gasped. She didn’t realize until too late that her foot stepped on only air beyond the edge of a steep glade.

“N-Netey-OOf!” The soldier fully pounced on Tala, which only sent them toppling. Large hands clawed into her sides as the two of them rolled down, slowly coming to a painful stop of groans and blooming bruises on their heads and limbs. Immediately the soldier got to his feet while his target was violently backing away, clawing through the grass. It couldn’t be him, he’s been dead for years now. It was a trick of the light, the rain entered her eye, she was being delusional, desperate.

As if a cruel trick of Eywa’s, Tala found herself back in the start, she had burrowed into a large and hollow tree trunk and was again trapped inside it. From the darkness outside, a hand burst through the entrance and clawed at her hair, impartial as to whether it wanted to pull her out or claw its way inside.

She was slapping, thrashing, the soldier’s large gloved hands were searching for her neck through her thick, loose curls. Her nails caught on the soldier’s green military headband, ripping it off to reveal a large, star-shaped scar on the left side of his forehead. He snarled but now so close, Tala froze.

Sunlillies and tree bark. A nostalgic smell.

She stopped, letting the soldier squeeze her neck, as her wide green eyes blinked upwards, staring at his face.

“Neteyam? Is it really…?” Tala started to whisper, she felt around at his hands. Four fingers, not a dream walker. She kept trembling eyes on his face, it looked so much like him. Even the way his forehead wrinkled when his brow raised in perplexity, now a large scar resting right above it. Yellow eyes met green and all the terror-induced adrenaline Tala had pumping through her was now going straight to her heart.

The soldier had also long stopped, stunned. Stunned by her scent, of spiced honey and rose, scents that he attributed to the environment than to her. The hammering pain he felt in his skull, from his scar, had dissipated drastically. He realized who he was holding.

“Tala.” His voice was low, uncharacteristically unsure.

She wanted to open her mouth and ask all the right questions, the smartest ones, but her mouth stayed silent. The soldier slowly loosened his grip. She looked at the name tag on his uniform. ’T. Sully’.

He allowed some minute bit of space between them, their breaths warming each other up from the cold of the constant rainfall. Tala eyed his scar, blackened and old.

“You’ve been poisoned.” Her throat was dry and her heart was pounding. As if simply saying something was enough, the RDA soldier lunged back into her, his face in her hair and arms encompassing her. She made a strangled, distressed noise.

“N-Neteyam! What are you-“

“Shut up.” It felt like a shadow covered her body, snuffing Eywa’s light on her. The voice, low, husked into the shell of her ears. Cold. It was very cold. The usual comfort she’d feel hearing his voice was missing.

When Tala tried to pull back, Neteyam’s hands tightened painfully around her body, squeezing her impossibly closer. His head hasn’t felt this at peace since he ‘awoke’. The headache was mercifully lessened each time he breathed in the Tawkami girl’s scent. Months felt like decades of torture, something for him to shoulder with each waking moment. Everything hurt his head, it was constant and numbing but somehow, with her…

A whine cried out of her throat, her breath felt constricted. Tala tried to scramble her fingers around the sleeves of his black shirt, clawing at the fabric and trying to push him away but to no avail. His tactical harnesses, both on his chest and around his legs, dug into her skin painfully.

“Let go of me.” Tala weakly hissed into his hair even though her arms, though tense, felt so weak. Brittle.

Neteyam hissed.

“Just stay still. Don’t you understand how easy it is for me to kill you?”

Tala stilled, confused. She was used to being admonished, by many people, yet she’s never known the Omaticayan to waste time for a kill. She noticed though the shallow pressure of his broad chest against hers, the lowest and quietest inhale.

He was smelling her.

This na’vi may no longer be Neteyam, a shadow that shared his name, but still, something stirred in Tala when she realized this. Stupid feelings she thought were buried and dead.

“Killing me by smelling me then, are you?” She mumbled, taking the gamble. No matter how overpoweringly soothing her scent was, Neteyam felt irritation rise at her words. That’s right, she’s always been sort of a pain to talk to… They’ve met twice before and both times left him feeling embarrassment and indignation. For what exactly, he couldn’t recall.

Still, his tail swished irritably now. He sat up to see her face to catch a glimpse of those green eyes that constantly taunted whoever had their attention.

Great mother, he wished he didn’t remember her so the thought that she’d only gotten prettier wouldn’t enter his head.

“Don’t push me, Tawkami. How haven’t you changed at all?” He snarled, venom dripping from his maw. Tala frowned and sunk her claws into his uncovered bicep, earning a small hiss. His hands curled again around the column of her neck, lightly squeezing.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she started seeing spots in her vision. Somehow, the universe both gave her a gift and a curse. Eywa returned his body to her, but not his mind. No more gentle hands, no kind eyes, no bashful expressions, or the comfort of his silhouette. She felt so entirely bitter to have hoped at all.

“Maybe I’ve not changed at all…” Tala felt like the headband in her hand was suddenly too heavy, she didn’t want it.

“But you’ve changed too much.” She finished, her stare was acidic.

“I died. And now I’m back and I’m forced to bear the consequences of it.” His voice was stern but quiet. Tala’s brows furrowed. Then her eyes went back to his large scar. From her studies, it truly looked poisoned, festering, and painful but the skin on top was healed. She was confused, na’vi were not the type to hide scars.

Tala reached around and placed his headband slowly back around his forehead. Delicate fingertips felt like burns along his skin and Neteyam was ready to crack her neck at any sign of force.

“The poison?”

No response. She scowled.

“Poison’s made you a bore too?” Tala let out a loud gag when his large thumbs momentarily dug into her throat.

“Still so foolish and mouthy.” The soldier growled. ‘Poisoned’ was a strange way to call his ever-present migraine, but seemed close enough. Unfortunately, the cure to that headache was another one in the form of an incredibly annoying woman. His patience was thinning.

“But you still find me so pretty, don’t you? Otherwise, what’s taking so long, hmm?” Her tone and smile were sickly sweet, just the way he always hated it.

The consequences were immediate, Neteyam nearly buried Tala into the ground, knocking whatever little breath she had left. He forced her legs around him in the struggle and went for her neck to suck and bite. She yelped when rough fingers clenched at her hair and pulled her closer to him.

Her words incensed him and now he knew that Eywa cursed him, why did this loathsome woman have to smell so good, and have to smile so lovely and be so soft?

“You’ve always been so fucking-“

She could feel Neteyam’s tongue and fangs scrape over her neck. Her strangled yelps stopped when Neteyam roughly pushed the stiff tent of his pants against her thigh.

“Annoying, so fucking full of yourself-“

She saw only a flash of golden eyes glaring at her before she felt lips crash onto hers. Fangs clashed against each other and Neteyam stuck his tongue into her mouth. Tala was mortified when she could immediately feel a heat pool in her belly. The musk of his arousal was so dizzying even through the thick camo fabric.

She wanted to say she struggled heroically but in shame, Tala’s will crumbled quickly. The kiss was just so bruising, so angry, she stopped struggling to focus on twisting his tongue and stealing his air.

Neteyam didn’t break the kiss as he ripped the gloves off his calloused hands, now feeling desperate to lose himself in her smell and her softness. He groped at her waist and squeezed the roundness of her hips, now her smell was intoxicating, tinged with her desire. He moaned at the contact, practically rutting his clothed cock against her. Tala could feel slick gather underneath her tewng, she knew for sure a wet spot was already leaking through it.

His hand stilled and Tala could finally look at him, tense. Neteyam seemed only to revel in it, his pupils enlarging further, brows furrowed, he looked near enraged. With him or with her, Tala figured it was probably both.

“What are you doing, Neteyam?” She rasped, conflicted and now hot and bothered. Her only answer was him sucking her clavicle hard, hands now groping at her tits wantonly.

Sense returned to Tala’s head and she started kicking at him, kicking around his much larger, muscular waist.

“Get away-oh!” She screeched when suddenly he was picking her up, making her back bend uncomfortably around the roof of the hollow tree, she was practically sitting on his shoulders now. His head was between her thighs and the wet muscle of his tongue was digging through her tewng, getting her wetter and wetter. She smelled divine here and he licked a long strip over the thin cloth, he could feel her heat on his tongue.

Unable to keep her balance she gripped the back of his head, his neck, the slope of his back, just anything so she wouldn’t topple over. Squeezing her thighs around his face only seemed to goad him on further.

“Neteyam!” Tala said, choking on her drool as the heat of her core rose exponentially with Neteyam’s sudden worshipping.

“I’m going to taste you. Don’t stop me.”

The announcement makes her cunt clench around nothing and she stills. Her face is on fire, she is so conflicted by the way he was squeezing her ass and how completely and uncomfortably drenched her cunt was- Neteyam pushed the tight fabric of her tewng to the side and started lapping at her pussy lips.

“Ooohh, oh, fuck!” She moaned, feeling just so filthy. His rough and wet tongue pressed against her hole, licked long strips against it and he dug for deeper, more of her juices. The more those juices dripped down his face, the more he lapped it up hungrily. He was just fucking gone, nothing hurt anymore and only extreme pleasure was left in his wake. His ego preened as he listened to her muffled whimpers like a favored song, she was not so annoying when his tongue was deep in her cunt like this. He thinks he prefers her like this, hanging onto him desperately, legs wide for him.

Neteyam felt like he could cum from just the sound of her desperate whines alone.

“Net-Nete…” She whispered his name harshly but could barely form it. The coil of heat in her belly was tightening oh so much, and when Neteyam’s nose burrowed further onto her clit, her eyes glazed over in pure ecstasy.

He sucked at her clit and groaned at the sweetness that exploded on his tongue. In his mind, it was his private feast and the satisfaction he got from making this irritable woman melt in his hands was simply an appetizer.

Her eyes rolled back, the spring snapped and she closed her legs impossibly tight around his face as she came so hard she saw white. Her body stiffened, even her tail squeezed tightly around Neteyam’s bicep, and after agonizingly long seconds, her body went limp.

To her vague surprise, he was still completely supporting her despite her relaxing her whole weight over him.

To the extreme surprise of her nerves, he was still swallowing all her excess liquids, now sucking over her reddened and puffy cunt for just a bit more savory sweetness.

“N-nete- I-came…” She said in broken mewls and weakly pawed at his back, eyes starting to water from the overstimulation. He, of course, didn’t stop, he didn’t even hear her. “It’s too much, stop…” She said a bit louder and dug her nails deeper into his back, but still Neteyam didn’t budge.

He basked in massaging her twitching, sticky cunt, the way it pulsated around his tongue, and flinched at every light scrape of his teeth. He only wished he had enough space to soak his fingers in her until she was hiccuping and the pads of his fingers were pruney.

Tala felt another orgasm crash through her and this time she wailed, body staying limp, hair cascading over her and over Neteyam’s back. Her cunt was now hurting and she was struggling to keep conscious.

She blinked at the distance, seeing the flash of yellow plastic. The Compass. She had pressed random buttons in the struggle, trying to get the dog tags or his uniform name as she knew the device could record nature, likenesses. Tala continued trying to blink away tears but before she knew it, her eyes clamped shut and everything went dark to the constantly stinging and tingling texture of Neteyam’s tongue.

It was maybe 20 minutes before the RDA na’vi noticed her noises were considerably muted and her body felt boneless. He swallowed the rest of his fill, he had practically licked her clean before he let her body completely relax on the jungle floor.

He stared down at her figure and took another deep breath, his migraines truly were gone.

She had said that he was poisoned. Neteyam clicked his tongue as he readjusted her coverings and hoisted her over his shoulder.

To the detriment of both of them, she seemed to be the only cure he had for now.

–

When Tala came to, it was as violent as she had never hoped it to be.

She screamed, static coursing through her entire body and when an RDA soldier shut it off, her whole body felt numb. She could barely see the bright white linoleum floor as two combat boots came into view.

A large hand forcefully tilted her head up and she grimaced.

“Well, outta all the biters you could’ve brought back, you chose a pretty one.” The dream walker said, his face was aged and his hair was cut extremely short. He had a square jaw and aged features, along with thick eyebrows. He let Tala’s face fall carelessly as he stood back up straight.

“That better not be the only reason you chose her, Corporal Tom.” His voice was hard. Tala was vaguely aware of her body being strapped vertically onto a table and only able to move around her neck, though she barely had the energy to lift it anyway.

“No, sir, Colonel Quaritch, sir.” It was Neteyam. Voice cold and unfeeling, just like how he had first talked to her. No sunlight, no warmth. “She is of the Tawkami clan and has knowledge of all of Pandora’s natural resources as an alchemist and healer. She will be of use in identifying plants still undiscovered.”

Quaritch simply stared hard at Neteyam, or, Corporal Tom, and grumbled quietly. The Phoenix II reconditioning program had worked almost miraculously well, but the older soldier still had his suspicions. He was somewhat aware of the change he himself was facing since the Skirmish at the Three Brothers years ago, so he had to keep a close eye on the former Sully boy.

It’s been a fast year since his reawakening, and to Quaritch’s knowledge, he was pretty sure the kid spent his ruts alone and barely interacted with those outside of the Recombinant Squad if even them. The… experience left him angry, which was great on the battlefield. Not for making sure his head was all there even in downtime though.

The colonel kneeled low to look at Tala’s face clearly, her head still hanging. Easy on the eyes at least, would it be so bad for him to have his own little fucktoy? It wasn’t regulated, but some prisoners became favored partners of the Recoms or other reawakened Na’vi, if at least to help with their monthly biological needs.

“I know you can understand me doll face, most of the Tawkami does by now.” He started with a cold hostility in his tone. Tala kept silent, trying to steel herself. She didn’t want to die, but she’d welcome any return to Eywa with open arms before helping these demons.

“To make everything crystal clear, I’m going to say this once. You make a peep of trouble, we shoot you. You fuck up, we shoot you. We’re not animals mind you, you play by our rules and you can live a reasonable life of use to us. Just don’t give us a reason to kill, and we won’t, sweetheart.” His seethe ended in a cruelly humored smile and Tala was feeling her blood run cold looking at him.

Quaritch rolled his eyes emphatically when she stayed silent.

“Gonna need to hear that you understand, doll face.” He rumbled and she pursed her lips. She nodded.

“…yes. I do.” Tala said, English heavily accented but understandable all the same. Quaritch stood to his full height, carelessly letting go of her face.

He turned to Neteyam with a scowl.

“Well, you got your fucktoy, Corporal Tom. Enjoy it.” He meanly snarled, getting close to Neteyam. The younger didn’t flinch, both of them staring intensely into the other’s glowing eyes. Maintaining eye contact, Quaritch waved his hand and another blast of shock scorched Tala’s body, making her scream in pain. Tala balled her hands and felt tears burn down her face as pain shocked through every bone in her spine.

Quaritch searched Neteyam’s face for any ounce of care, even the faintest inclination to help her. The colonel didn’t want any emotional bullshit conflict, he had his own to deal with.

Not even a flicker towards her figure, despite her screams getting shriller. Quaritch sent the operator a glance and finally, Tala was given a break from the torture. Her whole body sunk, the restraints digging into her skin, though she couldn’t feel it. Tala breathed hard, her body still twitching from the pain. It felt like her eyes and ears were bleeding, she wanted to vomit.

The older soldier smiled lightheartedly.

“Just a little welcome present,” Quaritch said, then passed by the younger and clapped his shoulder. “Look alive, soldier. Get her ready and cuffed. I’ll ask the eggheads which lab needs a hand. Don’t take too long.

When he left the room, Neteyam nodded his head at the operator to also make his exit.

Now they were alone. His footsteps towards her were silent, she only knew he was so close because his shoes came into view.

Tala twisted her head to at least be able to peer up at his face. She was aching thoroughly, but the soreness of her crotch especially made her sport quite a mirthful smile.

“Did you like the taste enough to keep me?”

Neteyam scowled then smirked.

“Almost as much as you liked creaming on my tongue.” He taunted back and his smirk grew as he saw Tala’s pretty smile get wiped off her face instantly.

A surprisingly soft grip supported her chin, and she raised her head to meet his eyes. While he still wore the harness and cargo pants, he was no longer wearing his tactical vest. She could clearly see the broadness of his shoulders, how sculpted and wide his chest was under the tight black shirt. Eywa really picked favorites.

Neteyam’s nose twitched, as it usually did with irritation.

“Be thankful I didn’t kill you. At least now you can be of use.” His voice had a sharper edge that made Tala glare at him. The stale light of fluorescent bulbs didn’t seem to suit either of them.

“Of use? Like you are to the vrrteps(demons), kavukte(traitor)?” Tala hissed, green eyes flashing with indignation. She wanted to bite his fingers off. Neteyam’s jaw tensed.

“What are you planning, Neteyam? What do you want?” She pushed, her voice much more hoarse than she thought it would be.

“I’m saving this planet by ending the Na’vi people’s resistance, Tawkami. They are being manipulated by Eywa, it’s not their fault, but they refuse to listen. Eywa keeps the People from growing, and she is the reason they suffer now. The humans will save us.” Neteyam said with such finality and clarity that it unsettled her, like lines practiced over and over again.

“Eywa keeps the balance, Neteyam, the vrrteps are selfish, they take and take. You know this, I know you do.” Her voice was pleading now, nerves heightened. She wanted desperately for him to listen to her and see reason.

“Then even this is part of Eywa’s plan, no? To let the sky people take and take. It was the sky people that saved me, not Her.” He said with a growl.

Tala couldn’t bear to listen anymore and ripped her face away from his grip, squeezing her eyes shut.

Wretched words, cruel thoughts that didn’t sound truly like his.

“The vrrteps did not save you, Neteyam. They were the ones that killed you! Lo’ak-.” Four fingers clamped her mouth shut and the amber pool of his eyes seared into hers.

“I remember everything. And my life was over far before Lo’ak’s stupidity got me shot.” He seethed, pupils in threatening and aggressive slits. Tala scowled, ears pinned to the side of her head.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jake. He ended my life long before that battle. Then replaced me before my body even turned cold, and now I live every single day in torture!” His words suddenly erupted in anger, violently surfacing above. Resentment emanated from every word and his hurt was suffocating. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get through to him, she was not the person he needed now. He needed Kiri or Tuk, he needed his family.

Tala was suddenly reminded of how small a part of his life she really embodied. At most a week’s worth of memories, years stretched in between. Barely any history.

She wanted to entertain that maybe it was her good looks and charming personality that made her memorable, but Tala wasn’t completely dumb. Neteyam had always been surrounded by attractive, talented navi, better yet, members of his own clan he could court.

Those infuriatingly beautiful eyes, making her think unnecessary things right then. Because that time was over, and these feelings didn’t matter. They never have.

“So your life is over, and now you’re ‘Corporal Tom’. Why does the Corporal want me?” Tala wondered out loud, biding for time as she scanned the room. White, eye-achingly so, metallic, plastic, unnatural, sterile, cold.

His waw tensed as he didn’t answer.

“Honestly, it’s looking like you’re obsessed with me.” Tala said with an entirely syrupy sweet and contemptuous smile. A fire started growing in her mind.

He lived every day in pain. And the scar looked blackened; poisoned and now hidden. Navi don’t hide scars. And suddenly he’s smelling her and eating her out as if she was his ambrosia.

Tala crinkled her eyes and batted her eyelashes at him.

“Oh, does being around me help with the hurt, poor sky demon warrior?”

When Tala saw his tail swishing in angry large strokes, she knew her answer, unable to contain how pleased she was now. It was laughable, for both of them, truly! She went through her mental alchemy compendium, considering what and how effected him. Relief through her scent, then arousal? Or minor dosage of comfort through scent then a substantial through oral consumption?

Tala sighed internally, this would have been a wonderful opportunity to experiment with the effects of this mind poison if it wasn’t for all the guns and threats and torture.

Neteyam suddenly and wordlessly stripped off her floral top.

“Neteyam!” She screeched, though his eyes just wandered along her chest, tits soft and dotted with dark pink nipples. Tala flinched violently away when large fingers pinched at her flesh, but still they continued to play and bruise the sensitive buds without care. Tala strangled a mewl in her throat, mortified. He had stayed too silent all this time, she should have known something was boiling in him.

And indeed there was, he hated her insolence and her overactive brain, how she pieced things together so damningly quickly.

“Nothing will get you to shut up, will it.” Neteyam mused out loud, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. He pinched it hard and Tala yelped.

“Remind yourself that you have no power here, Tawkami. At most, you’re a stress toy.” He said in a deceptively simplistic manner. As if to make the point stick he stuck thick gloved fingers in her mouth, pushing teeth and tongue. Neteyam stared, daring her to bite him. She didn’t.

“Smart toy, good toy.” He mumbled then, eyes narrowing in self-satisfaction. Tala’s face went hot but she kept compliant.

“Stay good, and I won’t break that thin neck.” Neteyam said, pushing his fingers in her mouth deeper. She gagged and Neteyam felt a familiar throbbing in his pants.

He stopped and then leaned over her like a predator, almost growling.

“I can smell how bad you want me. If you’re good, I’ll fuck the brat out of you until you’ve had your fill.”

Tala closed her eyes, just so completely humiliated yet so aroused, it made her fume. Neteyam smiled smugly when he saw her expression. He liked seeing her when she was too frustrated to do anything else but let her face turn red.

Tala grumbled something under her breath. His ears caught something about him being a horny psychotic asshole. So he proved her point.

“AH!” Sharp fangs sunk into the crook of her neck. He was-he was biting her, marking her! Neteyam was nearly crushing her small shoulders still as he bit down, blood beading and staining her skin.

“Great Mother, what is wrong with you?!” Tala was screaming, now jerking her body this way and that. She didn’t care that it made it more painful, she didn’t care that flecks of her blood were landing on his face and the rest of her body.

But neither did he, he let his fangs stay sunk into her skin, he seemed to be enjoying her struggling, the fucking asshole-

When Neteyam finally stood up, there were thin dribbles of saliva and blood running down his chin and he wiped it off with the heel of his glove carelessly.

Tala was breathing hard, confused and so horribly aroused, she didn’t even want to know how much of a mess she looked then. Her skin was on fire, she was barely aware of the tears running down her cheeks, tears of anger.

Her green eyes shined brighter in her shock, pink lips parted in terrible confusion. Her hair was a mess, braids no longer neat and curls in her face, sticking to her cheeks with her tears. And now the side of her neck, bitten into and punctured, like a pearl necklace of blood.

Neteyam thought it was the prettiest he’d ever seen her. And by Eywa his head felt the most relieved it’s been by far.

“A horny, psychotic asshole, right?” He said smugly, daring any more rebellion from her in his tone and she glared viciously at him. Neteyam merely kept his head raised and roughly pulled up her top.

He turned away and left once the doors slid open, whispering something to the tawtute waiting outside. He didn’t take any look back, he didn’t need to.

Tala felt hostility bubble in her gut, marking was for mates, not whatever the hell this was. Not from whatever he was!

The scientist walked in and pulled out a needle, making her ears pin to the back of her head. The injection went in so quickly, Tala could only remember those yellow eyes, searing into her.

It made her want to gag.

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#doodle #smut #fanfic #recom neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar way of water #fanart #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar twow #neteyam x oc #the spicy stuff #finally begins!!#hehehe

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Cruel Summer | Chapter I: August

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: You and Neteyam have been friends since you were children, and you taught each other everything, from English and Na'vi, to movie references and hunting, to everything about your own and the other's bodies. It was the perfect friendship-with-benefits, on paper. But how long can it last in the face of all that stands to tear it apart?

A/N: I'm so excited to say my new Neteyam series is officially here, and I hope you enjoy the first chapter!! This was for some reason one of the easiest and at the same time, one of the hardest piece i've ever written, like some parts came to me almost instantly and others I STRUGGLED WITH, besties. I hope it's not super disjointed and that you're as excited as me to embark on this journey. Thank you for your patience and can't wait to hear your thoughts. As always, I deeply appreciate your replies, reblogs, likes and follows, they mean so much x ly besties xoxo

: ̗̀➛ listen to August here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

Your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it

Will you call when you're back at school? I remember thinking I had you

There was so much about you and Neteyam’s relationship, if you can even call it that, that was wrong and unsightly, that was forbidden and hidden. But, as you stood in the forest, propped on your elbows, taking in the sun shining brightly through the leaves and his toned, azure back, on which patterns of the forest branches rippling in the breeze formed, you couldn’t care less if you tried. In these moments, fleeting and irreplaceable, life was everything you’ve ever wanted, more than you could have ever dreamt, and enough to keep you going. In these moments, there were no humans and Na’vi, no impending doom, no animosity over your presence in the village, no hatred emanating from Neytiri’s entire being whenever her intense and prying eyes spotted you or Spider in the crowd or amongst her kids, no woman that would soon be bearing Neteyam’s children, there was nothing else, but him and you and the promise of hushed confessions and wandering hands, of lingering stares and breakable heaven.

You couldn’t help be drawn by the silent invitation of his body, so tempting and beautiful, so big and different to yours, but just similar enough to allow for… certain enjoyable, mind-blowing pastime activities that were sure to occupy the time and every ounce of free space in your mind, and your soul, and your entire being. Your hand trailed on his back, from the nape of his neck to the band of his loincloth, moving over the scratches that you left on him just a couple hours ago, over the healed scars he got from battles and hunts that you could name and describe each of by heart, and you drew your name on his back with your fingers and the air beneath them as ink, hoping this way you’d mark him, this way you could keep him forever. Pushing the unpleasant thought aside, you playfully tugged at the purple fabric covering him. He turned around on his side to face you, his defined abs and chest fully on display, and the way he eyed you, desperate and needy, full of hunger and desire, made your stomach churn and core throb.

“What do you think you’re doing, ma Vol?”

Your mouth curved in a mischievous grin, which turned into a full-blown laugh as he grabbed your much smaller hands in one of his large blue ones and with very little visible effort, stretched your arms above your head and manoeuvred you on your back on the mossy, comfortable grass. He hovered over you, his smile mirroring your own from just a few moments ago, and he tapped the mask currently providing the oxygen needed to keep you alive with his index finger, the sound ringing in your ears like bells in a church.

“I would give anything to not have this in the way right now.”

“Me too. Death by make-out with a hot blue 9 something foot tall alien? There are worse ways to go.”

He shook his head at you and scoffed, but you could tell he was amused. The desire you felt for him instantly diminished as the thought of the fact he would be heading home soon enough, home to his family and his new mate, crept unwelcome in the back of your mind and slowly moved forward, until it was everything, until it was the only thing.

“Do you have to go back soon?”

He sighed and let you go, plopping himself back on the grass next to you, chest up and looking at the sky and the clouds moving above you, and all the shapes they made as they passed you by.

“You know I do.”

You knew. You’ve known for years, ever since the first time you and Neteyam started this game of hide and seek with the rest of the village, with each other, and with yourselves, that this was temporary, that one day, he would belong to someone else, and all you would be able to do is watch.

Salt air, and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more

Whispers of "Are you sure?", "Never have I ever before"

Your and Neteyam’s lives could not be more different. You were human, a tiny, inconsequential human, left behind after the war, unable to be hooked to cryo, so you stayed with the scientists who were fortunate enough to be allowed safe haven on this planet that was now as much their home as it was the Omatikaya’s. You knew nothing of Earth, other than stories told to you by your surrogate family and from whatever form of art they had with them, that brought them the comfort of a home long forsaken, but never forgotten. In time, it brought you comfort, too, knowing what Earth used to be like, knowing that humans were not just monsters, but had it in them to be smart, and kind, and funny, to create beautiful music, and poetry, to combine words, words that everybody had access to and everyone could speak, combine them in such a way that it brought tears in your eyes or happiness in your heart, that made you think and ponder about the meaning of growth, the meaning of love and laughter and life and death. It was beautiful, they were beautiful, and - you hoped - so were you.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

You and Neteyam shared many firsts throughout your 19 years of friendship. Despite your differences, despite your incompatibility and despite so many challenges facing you, despite both knowing it was most likely wrong and shouldn’t have happened, you always found solace in each other. You found yourselves in each other. You were each other’s first kiss, first sleep over, first flirtatious touch and first wandering hands, first make-out, first second base and first third base, first secret affair. Everything you knew about each other’s bodies, about your own bodies, you learned together. What makes each other tick, what makes each other tickle, what makes each other cum. In time, you knew everything about the other and you made sure you took advantage of that knowledge as often as you could.

The first time you and Neteyam ever kissed was when you were both 12, both innocent children, both curious. At that time, he was not a lot bigger than you, as it turns out humans stopped growing in height a lot sooner than Na’vi did. Now, your full body reached his lower ribs, but at the time, he was only about a head taller than you. It was short and sweet, and so so innocent, and yet, it never left you. That kiss, which at the time was just fulfilling a curiosity more than anything else, started a complicated and convoluted journey that was full of potholes, full of tight swerves and icy roads, full of dangers and darkness, but a journey worth taking nonetheless, because in the short periods of clear skies and sun-kissed warmth, it had the most heavenly sights and luminous vistas, and it was everything.

The first time you shared a bed, you were 15. Actually, a bed is a very loose term. In reality, it was just a mess of sheets in one of the recreation rooms that no other human or avatar really frequented, outside of you and Spider. It was large and tall, and had a huge screen where you usually watched movies whenever the Sullys came by to visit. Neteyam taught you Na’vi and he, being the dutiful son and soldier that he was, would come by to learn English at least once a week when he was young, knowing it would one day come in helpful against the humans. He didn’t say it, but you knew he also did it to be more like his dad, yet another way he emulated the Toruk Makto.

His favourite way to learn is with you, as you were also learning as you went along, and both of your favourite way to learn is by watching Earth videos, and movies and tv shows, and trying to figure out what the references meant, what the idioms meant, how to use slang that made no sense to your ears without the scientists explaining it to you. When you were alone, sometimes, you liked to make your own meaning for phrases, and laughed at your own little private jokes that no one else would ever be privy to. One of those evenings, that started with studying, and a marathon of Friends, ended with tangled limbs and soft snores, covered in blankets and the warmth of each other’s bodies. It was so innocent, and so childlike, and so was the second kiss you’ve ever shared, that happened in between giggles and The One Where Ross Finds Out, where the tension that erupted between Ross and Rachel and the kiss that resulted off it, prompted a philosophical discussion around physical displays of affection and what the big deal about it was. After trying it out for yourselves, you concluded it was overrated.

That didn’t last long, as your first make-out came soon after, a little less innocent and definitely less childlike. You discovered maybe there was some truth in those shows, and you discovered that you both enjoyed the tingling on your skin and the butterflies in your stomach that each other’s touch provided. That lasted for a few years, and eventually progressed into this, whatever this was. Initially, it was just curiosity. Then it became about how good release felt, how necessary it was, how much the pleasure helped both of you unwind and go about your day, forget about frustrations about the labs, and training, and parents and surrogate families, it could all be solved by each other’s bodies. It was purely self-indulgent, it was friends with benefits at its finest.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

But I can see us lost in the memory

August slipped away into a moment in time

'Cause it was never mine

But life never stopped around you, and the world didn’t stop around you, as much as it felt like it had when it was just the two of you. You both grew up, and while you were still the same human, still doing the same things and having the same limitations that would always plague you, Neteyam’s world was a constant whirlwind of which you were just a small breeze. In time, he took his Iknimaya and Uniltaron, he became a man, and a revered warrior, despite being only 19. Early last week, he even got a mate, and will soon consummate that mateship, and he will be bonded with her for life, and you will be just a part of the past, just a small reminder of his childhood, just a dull ache in a mass of growing pains.

“What are you thinking about, ma Vol?”

You smiled softly as his nickname pulled you out of your musings. Vol. He first called you that when you were kids, and he found out that on Earth, the eight month of the year, when you were born, was called August. The Na’vi had a name for August, and it was vospxìvol, and after the first time the word ever left his lips, so did any other name for you disappear from his mind. To everyone else, you were Y/N. To him, you were his Vol. His never-ending summer, your warmth surrounding him for all time, your day eclipsing his darkest nights.

You wanted to be honest. To tell him what you thought about, what occupied your every other thought, what weighed on your heart so heavily it felt like it would overtake you, every day, all day, was him. It was how much, despite your unspoken agreement that this was purely physical, it got to mean more to you in time. It was how much you loved him, desperately and unconditionally, impermeably and forever. You wanted to tell him that you knew the rules, you knew that whatever this was couldn’t last, wouldn’t last, but there’s nothing more you wanted in this life than a way to make it last, to make him yours. That you curse your life every day that you will never be able to understand this world the way you were meant to, that you would never understand the bond the Na'vi have with it and with the beings in it, with each other, and that the thought of his queue, the most intimate part of him, a direct influx into his thoughts and feelings, connecting to someone else’s, made you sick to your stomach, made bile and acid gather in your mouth until it burned everything in its wake as you had to swallow you back down where it belonged.

You felt stubborn tears pricking at your eyes and forced yourself to push them back away. Neteyam was your best friend, was the man that knew you more intimately than anyone else ever would and still, there were somethings better left unsaid, some cans of worms that would spoil even the most unfastidious of appetites.

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine

“Just thinking about how I’m going to be able to explain all of these marks on my body, you fiend. I think I’m running out of ideas, there are only so many rashes Norm won’t get worried about, and only so many clothes that will cover all traces of you on me. I don’t have the luxury of shopping for more clothes, you know?”

Neteyam laughed and you knew you were out of the woods and that he wouldn’t pry anymore. It was time for you to go back, time for you to deal with the unfairness of the universe in your own room, under the cover of darkness and solitude, drowning your senses in music and mindless entertainment.

“Take me home?”

He turned his back to you and knelt, waiting. You smiled at his unspoken way of telling you to get on his back, and obliged, attaching to him like a backpack. In reality, this was easier for him than walking next to you, as you were slow and a far cry from his nimble and athletic capabilities. Plus, it meant he got to keep you close a while longer, got to feel his heart beating on his back and your chest moving as you inhaled, and your breath in the crook of his neck. It was much better than walking. It didn’t take long for Hell’s Gate to appear into view, the big, mostly decrepit ruin of a city left behind by the humans large enough that it could be spotted from miles away. It was Jake’s decision as Olo’eyktan to have the Omatikaya village close-by, an attempt at keeping close to the scientists and uniting the two worlds, both of which you had a foot in, but nothing more - enough to not be homeless, never enough to truly belong in either.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

The silence was very loud, and you sighed in a desperate attempt to fill it.

“You know you can say you’re going to see her. I’m not under any illusion that you have no contact with the woman you’re gonna spend the rest of your life with when you’re not with me.”

It was his turn to sigh, and you found yourself regretting ever asking.

“I know, but still…”

“Yes?”

“You and me… it’s… I -…”

You chuckled bitterly. Neteyam wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a man who always knew what those words would be when they did come out of his beautiful mouth. He never blabbered, or got flustered, he was the most poised and sure of himself person you’ve ever met. And yet here he was, mind blank and uncertain tone, and you felt relieved, at least to some extent, that he wasn’t completely unaffected by this whole situation, that you weren’t going through this completely by yourself.

“I know.”

“I love you, you know?”

That you did know.

Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car"

And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

Back when I was living for the hope of it all

Neteyam’s mind tortured him today more than most other days, as so many memories of your life together enveloped him, and the warmth they provided was quickly dispersed by thoughts of a face, a new face, a known and yet strange face, the face of the woman he’s been promised to. They wrestled with images of your face, beautiful and alien, so different from everything he knew and yet so familiar, of your body that he knew so intimately, that he knew better than his own, images of it trembling under him, of your parted lips and the moans that escape it, of your eyes he dreamt about each night shut tightly as each orgasm washed over you, of your hands that always found their way to his back or his ass, pushing him deeper in you, or in his hair, pulling on it or tugging it behind his ear.

It’s been almost two years since the first time he’s known you like this. The first time, it was awkward and strange, there was so much fumbling and so much that neither of you knew, and despite how many movies you watched, there was very little information on Na’vi and human… relationships, so it took a lot of trial and error to get to where you were at now, a point of no return, a point of unspeakable pleasures and feelings that ran so deep, they’d put most oceans to shame. Feelings that he hid, because speaking them out loud would lead to only heartbreak. What you two had worked. It’s worked for so long, neither of you knew anything else. You were best friends, you knew everything about each other. So why would he ever risk it? Why would he ever ruin it, since there was no future anyway?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Neteyam knew that what you did was wrong. It was wrong, but it never felt wrong. It felt so right. Despite all of your differences, despite all of the ways you could never be together, despite the fact that he could never form tsaheylu with you, nothing compared to the feeling of you falling asleep with your limbs all over his torso, with your head in the crook of his neck. Nothing compared to the connection he felt when he sank in you and you looked in each other’s eyes, and it felt like he could hear all of your thoughts, feel everything you were feeling, and he knew you did, too. In those moments, he thinks you both knew that what you had was far away from what it was always intended to be, and far away from how simple he thought it was when you first started it.

Because now there was someone else. Another woman, a woman that he’d have to bond with, have babies with, start a family with, a woman he had to love. A woman that wasn’t you. And while the thought of it made his skin crawl, so did the thought of disappointing his parents and his clan, who he would lead one day, by refusing, by not following through, by admitting he’s been engaging in these sort of relationships with a human, an alien. A demon. His mother could barely stomach you and Spider as her kids’ friends, Neteyam knew she’d have a heart attack is she were to hear about the activities you and her son got up to on a daily basis.

Your chuckles ceased his train of thought, and he was glad.

“You can put me down now, Teyam.”

The gate to the big metal complex was so close to Neteyam he could feel the smell of metal inundating his nose and coating his tongue. He hated this smell, and he hated this place. You were the only good thing about it.

“Sorry. Got lost in thoughts.”

He heard the unmistakable sound of an oxygen mask being removed and his heart booming in his ears as panic took over him instantly, but he had no time to react to it as you turned his face towards you and placed your lips on his in a needy, desperate kiss that made him weak in the knees, that redirected his galloping heart from panic to desire, to ache… to love. Once you broke the kiss, Neteyam watched as you gasped for air and helped you tightened the mask over your face again, and then jumped from his back and onto the ground.

“What was that for?”

“Just saying thank you for a good day.”

Just saying please don’t forget me once you reach her tent tonight.

There was still a lot of commotion in the labs as you made your way through the corridors to reach your bedroom, and despite your body telling you it’s exhausted and needs sleep, you instead put on a lab coat and joined them, since you knew that going to bed meant unnecessary suffering and putting your mind through scenarios it didn’t need to think about just yet, not when they would all become reality soon and there was no point in living through it twice. You were surprised to find Spider in one of the cell culture labs, chatting animatedly with Norm. He smiled widely as he spotted you, and you tried your best to reciprocate and push aside all the ugly feelings plaguing you.

“Hey, everyone.”

“Hi, gorgeous.”

You knew Spider had a crush on you, and that he has had a crush on you for a while now. You weren’t sure if the crush was on your per se, or just on the only person who shared a similar age and species with him, but you didn’t have it in you to ever question him or turn him away. He was a good friend, and a good guy, and who knows? Maybe it was fate that you two were the only human children on Pandora, maybe it was fate that you were here together at the same time. Maybe despite your mind convulsing in pain just at the thought of him, thought of anyone else but Neteyam, he was who you would end up with, your only chance at lasting love, at a family. Maybe life was less about what you want, less about what makes you happy and more about the greater good, the greater purpose, the ability to make something out of nothing. Maybe.

“What have you been up to today, kid?”

“Not much, just training with Neteyam. Can’t you tell by my bulging muscles?”

Norm removed his eyes from the microscope they were glued to, in order to eye you intently up and down.

“All I can tell is that rash is not getting any better. You need to use the hydrocortisone cream I put in your room.”

You prayed that neither men couldn’t see the blush that made your cheeks so hot from the inside out, you were struggling to keep your hands by your side and not fanning your face aggressively.

“Will do, Norm. Need any help?”

He thought about it for a while, then pointed to one of the incubators.

“You can split the cells? I was going to ask Harry to do it, but since you’re here and want to help…”

You smile at the chance to keep your mind occupied at least for a little while, at chance to not think about whatever it was that Neteyam was doing with another girl, with someone else that wasn’t you.

The next few weeks passed in a blur, and so much has changed in your life, it was hard to keep track. The humans have officially returned to Pandora, and in their return, obliterated endless amounts of precious forest, of natural resources, of life that will never come back, that will always be mourned and missed. You were all forced to move camp, deep in the Hallelujah mountains, where the Flux Vortex was too powerful to allow for detection. It was painful and scary, and you felt numb as you had to say goodbye to the only home you’ve known for 19 years, to the forest and to the village. You couldn’t imagine how to villagers felt, how the Sullys felt… how Neteyam felt. There was only one thing that made this time bearable, and that was the fact that Neteyam’s mateship was postponed until things settled down. It was only temporary, and it meant very little in the grand scheme of things, but you were just happy you didn’t have yet another earth-shattering event clawing at your insides, ripping you to shreds.

The relief didn’t last long, though, as Neteyam might not be sleeping with another girl, but he was also not sleeping with you anymore, either. The move and the new quarters meant a lot less privacy and a lot less space. You were fortunate enough to have your own room in the new labs, but the room was tiny and sharing a wall with Norm and Max. Neteyam was forced to move back into his parents’ tent, which meant the two of you never got a chance to be together at night anymore. He hasn’t come to visit you since the last time he took you back to Hell’s gate, and that was almost 2 weeks ago.

Today, you were hoping to change that. Today, you would ask him to take you to a different floating rock, or on an Ikran ride, or anywhere else but here, in this place that felt stifling and suffocating, this place that couldn’t, wouldn’t feel like home, no matter what. You missed him. You needed him. He had been the calm in all the chaos of your mind your whole life, and especially now, the spiralling felt particularly dizzying, the current particularly hard to navigate.

As you were mindlessly pipetting some treatments of some cells, your mind wandered to the Sullys, all of whom were away today. The kids were in the forest, exploring woods that were no longer particularly safe to navigate. You knew they didn’t care, but still couldn’t help roll your eyes at the sheer irresponsibility. They asked you to come, but getting into any more trouble with Neytiri, or risking running into any humans didn’t particularly appeal to you. On the other hand, Neteyam and his parents were on a family hunt, a sweet tradition that has begun soon after Neteyam completed his Iknimaya and continued since, running of 6 years.

Spending time with the Sullys was for sure one of your favourite ways to pass the time. The kids have always loved and welcomed you and Spider into their lives and their family, no matter how much Neytiri might have tried to influence them otherwise. Though Kiri found Spider her closest friend, you and her still loved hanging out together, loved being in each other’s companies, loved speaking for hours on end about everything and nothing. Kiri was drawn to humans, as Lo’ak was, and they took to your culture, your different ways of being, and thinking and existing, more so than any other Na’vi you knew. You assumed a lot of it had to do with their own differences to the clan, differences that while to you were insignificant, to them and to the Omatikaya, it meant the difference between a true Na’vi and a half-breed, an alien. Their slightly atypical appearance, which they shared with Jake, could be overlooked in him, as he was the Olo’eyktan, the Toruk Makto, the man that helped Eywa save their planet and their clan from certain death, but unfortunately for both his kids, that courtesy rarely extended to them.

Neteyam and Tuk looked all Na’vi, and could both pass as twins of their mother’s appearance at different stages of her life. Neteyam was the prince of the Omatikayan rule. He was tall and handsome, he was lean and muscular, and while his face was his mother’s, his body was definitely his father’s. Neteyam was a warrior. Through and through, he was forged in fire, with metal bones and razor-sharp teeth. He was forged to be unbreakable, to be the hope of the clan, the heir to the throne, the perfect son, the greatest soldier. Neteyam was one of the youngest Na’vi to go through his second birth after completing his Iknimaya and Uniltaron. He is the last man to get a bow made from the original Home Tree, that was burned to the ground almost 20 years ago. He was the epitome of the Omatikaya, and he wore all of these hats proudly, and he fought permanently to be worthy of them. Neteyam didn’t know what it was like to disappoint his parents, or his people. Unlike Lo’ak, he couldn’t afford to. Because of Lo’ak, he couldn’t afford to. He was willing to give anything… everything up in order to live up to the unrealistic expectations placed on him, because to him, that’s the only way to live. You admired him, admired his resolve and admired his will. You didn’t understand it, but you were human. You were selfish in nature, and you didn’t think that was a bad thing. You didn’t think being a little selfish sometimes was bad. In your mind, you shouldn’t have to live only for others. You only had one life, a short life, and that life should be lived, and that life should be enjoyed. That was a cause of a great deal too many arguments between you and your best friend, and it is something you will never see eye to eye on.

Norm’s aggressive entrance made you yelp out in surprise, and so did his face, contorted in pain and fear, so unlike the kind, calm and chipper one you’ve gotten to know throughout the years.

“Get ready. Jake radioed me, the kids were attacked by the humans. They’re coming back now, so let’s make sure we have supplies prepared, so we can patch them up.”

You felt a shudder overtake your body, and your hands, holding a pipette in one hand and a centrifuge tube in the other, felt limp and weak, felt like the weight was too much for your body to reasonably take.

You got up from your chair almost robotically, feeling our mind blank as the information stewed and settled in it, until it reached a point it was the only thing ringing through your otherwise deafened ears.

“Come on, honey.”

“A-are…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, couldn’t even bring your mouth to speak the words that were haunting your soul, that were constricting your heart.You were out of your mind with worry, so much worry, it was permeating through every cell of your being and bringing out toxins you didn’t even know resided in you, poisoning your blood and and making you pant, making you want to scream in anguish at the possibility of your honorary siblings, of him, being in any way hurt, in any way touched by any of the humans.

“I think they’re alright. A little banged up, and probably terrified, but I think they’re ok. Jake didn’t say much, so let’s be prepared for everything. Get suture kits, and gauze, get numbing cream, the works.”

You were grateful for Norm, now and always, for how he’s been more of a father figure to you than you could have ever anticipated or even hoped for. He’s loved and cared for you and Spider like you were his own, and you will never be able to repay him for all the attention and affection, but you strived to make him proud, strived to be a good student, a good scientist, a good person, a good daughter. That’s one of the reasons why you spent a lot of your time in Hell’s gate in the adjacent forest, and less time in the village. One of the reasons.

As you got out of the labs and were hit by the warm thin air of the Omatikaya stronghold, you gasped as your eyes landed on Neteyam, who had deep cuts that leaked blood, like your eyes were leaking tears, both dropping carelessly, his on the ground, yours gathering at the bottom of your mask. His face cleared up as it spotted you in the crowd, and a quick look of easement panned across his features, and for a second, just a second, it felt like there was no one else in this world but you two, like this planet was an empty void kept alive and spinning by the magnitude of your love, by the gravity of the feelings pulling you towards each other, electrifying the air around you.

Your feet carried you forward with a mind of their own, and before you knew it, you were running, dropping the bag of supplies on the floor and pushing people out of the way - or at least trying to, not very successful when you were as strong as a literal toddler. The relief you felt overtook all your other thoughts, all your discernment of your circumstances and you surroundings, all the self-awareness of the situation and the knowledge you had to keep your feelings under wraps. It all went out the window as you jumped in Neteyam’s arms and circled your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips and although he winced in pain, he immediately tightened his grip and you and pulled you in closer.

You moved until you came face to face with him, and you eyed him attentively to make sure he was alright, that he was really here and safe.

“Are you -?”

“I’m fine, ma Vol.” he smiled at you, and you could tell he was trying to tell you something by the way his eyes moved from yours to behind you. You were scared to follow his gaze, terrified to look behind you and see Neytiri glowering at you, and the confused, maybe scandalised faces of the rest of the Na’vi. So you didn’t. You got down and moved in line to all the rest of your surrogate siblings, doing a similar ritual, so as to not stand out from Neteyam’s. Lo’ak was happy to kneel and open his arms wide for you, and you appreciated this boy you loved so much more in this moment than you could ever tell him. He always knew what to do, he understood you well, just like you understood him.

You finished with Spider, who looked a little more hurt than all the rest of them, and you knew it’s because, unlike them, his bones weren’t made with naturally occurring carbon fibre, so his body suffered a lot more every time something didn’t go to plan. It pained you to see him like this, hurting and bruised, and it hurt you more to see the anguish and fear haunting his eyes. You touched his arm and smiled softly as heat spread out where your hands traced his injuries, and when he looked at you, he shook his head, signalling for you to not question him any further, at least not for now. You nodded silently.

As the only two humans who were born on this foreign planet, you and Spider had a special bond. You had to, you had to stick together, because no one else really understood what either of you were going through except the other. He would always be the only one who understands the pain of being stuck in this body that was weak and feeble, that only one who understood the loneliness, the deep-seeded and monstrous loneliness that plagued you, the only one who understood what it was like to want something you can never have, like a chance to be one of the people, the chance to have a family, the chance at being accepted, the chance at being loved fully and without restraint, without pushback, without secrets. Spider has loved Kiri his whole life. You knew that. You also knew how hard he was fighting against it, how hard he was trying to convince himself he liked you instead, the only person on this planet that was made for him, whose body was compatible with his. Forbidden love is one of the many similarities you two shared.

A small scream woke you up from your musings and you all snapped your head towards the sound that you now saw came from a woman, about your age, one that you knew very well, one that, despite every rational thought telling you otherwise, you hated with every fibre of your being. The woman. The dreaded woman that would one day be the mother of Neteyam’s children, the woman he’d wake up next to every day of his life, the woman he’d touch, and hold, and fuck. The woman he’d love. The woman that wasn’t you.

“Oh, Great Mother! Oh, Eywa!” Her steps were wide and rushed, and in no time at all she made her way through the crowd and stopped just in front of Neteyam’s body, and carefully traced her long, slender fingers on his body. She looked panicked and forlorn, desperate to make sure her mate-to-be was unharmed. She gasped as her gaze landed on his many bleeding scratch wounds, and took him by the hand as she pulled on his arm, willing him to go with her.

“Yawne, come on. I will prepare healing salves for you in my tent. Let’s go.”

You tried to swallow the bitterness that gathered in your mouth to no avail, as the lump that seemed like it had settled in your throat, never to leave you again, prevented it. You felt the familiar sting of tears gathering in your eyes and demanding to be released down your face, and knew you had to pull it together. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t the time to think of how you’ve always been the one to heal Neteyam, it was always your hands trailing over his wounds, it was your hands that sutured his bleeding gashes, the one that made sure he wouldn’t ever scar, because the thought of anything marring his beautiful skin hurt you.

“Uhm, we’re here, too, you know?” Lo’ak send a small snarky look in the girl’s direction, and Neytiri hissed at her son, threatening him to keep quiet. The girl didn’t acknowledge his words, opting to continue pulling Neteyam away forcefully. Lo’ak didn’t like her. You didn’t know why. Unlike you, he didn’t have an obvious reason. Maybe it’s how she acted like the rest of his family didn’t really exist, like they were somehow below her. Well, not the entire family. She liked Neytiri and Mo’at, and she liked Tuk. It was just Lo’ak and Kiri that she seemed to ignore.

Your eyes remained fixed on Neteyam’s body, that was slowly getting farther away from you and closer to another woman’s tent, and you couldn’t help think how this was a fitting metaphor for your relationship and your future. He peered behind him and immediately found your face, and the look he gave you will haunt you forever. A look that told you that he loved you, that he was sorry, but he had no choice. A look that said “I wish things could be different, but they’re not”. A look that crushed your spirit and told you everything you never wanted to hear and nothing that could heal the pain currently poisoning your heart.

Spider placed a hand on the small of your back, and with one last look at your best friend, the man you loved, you turned your back to him, to her, and to the love you felt in every cell in your body and focused on the people who needed you. You motioned for Spider and Lo’ak to follow you to the labs.

“Come. I’ll patch you up.”

It was late at night when you finished everything you had planned on doing, and you dragged your feet tiredly to your room, eager to be alone, eager to be able to drop the facade you have had to maintain for the entire day and just release the anguish in your soul with a good crying session and some comfort show you have seen one too many times. You got into the shower and put the temperature as close to boiling as you possibly could, feeling the incessant need to burn a couple layers of skin, to remove the traces of Neteyam that will always be tattooed on you, the feeling of his lips on your body, that you could feel like he was here right now, the pressure of his hands as they tugged at your hips, as they wrapped around your throat, as they caressed your cheeks and pushed the hair out of your face. The tears that fell down your cheeks were removed as soon as they dropped, leaving only the memory of them, the images of what triggered them, of the anguished thoughts and deep pain that sank its teeth into you like a wild animal, tugging at and tearing apart everything they touched.

As you got out of the shower, you heard the unmistakable sound of the door sliding open, and of something falling on the floor with a loud clank, and you knew exactly who it was. Your entire body was red and puffed from the shower, including your face, on which it was obvious that you have cried for the past 30 minutes. Fuck.

With a loud sigh, that you hoped would lower your rapid heartbeat and shallow breaths, you opened the door and came face to face with Neteyam, who was knelt on the ground, trying to pick up what he dropped on the floor.

“Sorry.” He says meekly. “I wish I could control my tail better, but it’s always an accident waiting to happen in these tight rooms.”

You gave him a small smile that was not reflected in your eyes, and moved past him to sit on your bed. You fixed your eyes on the ground, noting how awkward and tense the atmosphere around you was. It’s never been like this. Ever. You and Neteyam have always been comfortable around each other. Always. No matter what ever happened in your lives or around you, no matter what depths your friendship reached, no matter how many boundaries you erased or walked past, it’s always felt natural. This didn’t.

“Why are you here, Neteyam?”

“What do you mean why I am here? I can’t be here?”

You scoffed.

“You can, you just never are anymore.”

“Vol… come on. You know it’s different now than it was in the village, in Hell’s gate. We’re going to get caught.”

“Yeah, well, we wouldn’t want to get caught. God forbid anybody knows you fuck me in your free time.”

“Vol…”

You knew you were being unfair. You knew it deep in your soul that he didn’t deserve any of this. You both agreed to this. You agreed to this a long time ago, and, if you were being honest with yourself, it was you that initiated it.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The first time you and Neteyam had sex, you were both drunk. It was your 18th birthday party, and Norm and Max organised a bash that would have apparently made even Earth bashes seem tame. There was food and music and dancing, and yelling and laughter and a lot… a lot of drinks.

So many drinks, in fact, that in the early hours in the morning, you and Neteyam stumbled back to your room, barely being able to make out the shape of the bed before crashing unceremoniously on it, giggling like a school girl when you did and the world refused to settle around you like you did in it.

“You’re so drunk.” Neteyam said, hiccuping slightly.

“No, you’re drunk. I’m fine.”

It was a nice change of pace, seeing Neteyam so free, so uninhibited, so… happy. His life was always busy, always messy, always difficult, having to parent 3 kids he didn’t bring into this world, picking up their slack, making sure they were safe and free, while he lived shackled to his family and his clan’s expectations, to the promise of being chieftain one day and all the sacrifices that came along with it.

“At least I can sit up.”

“Well, you’re about twice larger than me, so you know…” you were wiggling your fingers in the air, trying to make a point, although the point got lost in the abyss, much like the rest of your mind.

“Yes?”

“Fuck knows, lost my train of thought.”

“Goddamn, ma Vol, you are really drunk.”

He came and lay in your bed next to you and you immediately fastened your limbs around his torso, like he was the flame and your soul was the moth that couldn't stay away.

“So what? It’s my birthday. I’m an adult now! If I can’t get drunk on my birthday, when can I?”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Do you ever think about having sex?”

Whatever thoughts Neteyam might have had evaporated quicker than water droplets in a fire, and he found himself speechless, not a totally uncommon occurrence in your presence.

“Cause I do. I think about it all the time. I mean, we watch so many movies, and series, and all humans seem to do is have sex. I heard Norm getting it on with one of the Omatikaya chicks in the village for a while now, and, all I can think of is when the hell is it going to be my turn? My turn to know what it feels like, to get to see what the big deal is, you know?”

“I know you think about it. I know you think about it with me. I can feel it, I can feel you, whenever we fall asleep together. I know you want me, Teyam. I mean, we’ve come this far, right? Might as well go all the way.”

“I hope you want me. Because I want you. You’re my best friend, you know everything about me. I want it to be you.”

Neteyam was doing everything in his power to ignore his increasingly harder-to-ignore erection and the way he was twitching at every word that came out of your mouth. Of course he wanted you. You were hot, and you were his. His best friend, the person he’s shared so many intimate moments with, the person that taught him everything he knew about girls, about pleasure, about so many things. But this might be a step too far, a step you could never take back. Neteyam always hoped that one day, by some miracle of the universe, you would get an Avatar, and you would get a chance to be one of the people. There’s nothing he wanted more in this world then to get to keep you forever. But, as the years went past, the possibility of that seemed less and less probable, and Neteyam knew he would have to find a mate one day, and he would have to love her and keep her, forever. He would sleep with her, and mate with her, and she would have his kids, and doing these things with you… he didn’t know how he was supposed to move on with his life like your presence didn’t permeate through every fibre of his being.

“I do want you, Vol. But I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.”

“It’s a great idea, Teyam. Think about it.” You chuckled to yourself, eyes shut tightly and fingers rubbing your temples, as if trying to summon the words into your brain.

“What was I saying?”

He laughed at your disorientated predisposition, realising he wasn’t in a much better condition.

“I forgot.” You kicked your feet up in the air as you remembered.

“Oh, yeah!! It’s a g-great idea. Because we’ve made out before, right? Multiple times. Because we’ve s-slept in the same bed before, so we know that works. Because we know each other, and we won’t tell anyone else, right? It can just be our little secret, and we have p-plenty of those anyway. Because, because… Because this way, whenever you'll get yourself a mate, you know that you will know what to do and won’t fumble around. I’m doing you a favour, if you think about it. It’s the perfect plan honestly. Foolproof.”

It was hard for Neteyam to argue with your logic, but that may be because the part of his brain that processed logic was dead now.

The first time you and Neteyam had sex, it was awkward and painful. Turns out there is a lot more fumbling and a lot more preparation and a lot more pain involved than what it is ever portrayed on the screen, and even more so since the man you were sleeping with was twice your size, and those proportions extended to… well, everything. It took a lot of lube and a lot of patience, but you knew you would have wanted no one else to have this experience with. There was no one else in the world that could have made this what it was, something that you would cherish for the rest of your life. He was kind and considerate, and he brushed the tears from your face with his thumbs when the initial pain got too much to bear, and he waited for you to adjust to his impressive length, that felt like it would tear you apart at the seams at times, and he kissed your forehead and whispered about how well you were doing, and how good you felt, and how there was no one else he would rather be doing this with, no one else in the world, not for the rest of time.

The first time promptly led to the second time, and although it took time for you to learn each other’s bodies, in a couple months, the pleasure you felt when he touched you was indescribable, the thrill you got whenever you saw him become putty under your touch boldened you, empowered you, made you want to do this every day, all day, for as long as you lived. In time, you learnt that you liked when he praised you and he loved the sounds he could coax out of you - the louder you were, the harder he got. You both enjoyed being in control once in a while, him most of the time, you - on special occasions. The dance you partook in was intricate and complicated, it was heaven and hell, it was pleasure and pain, it was everything you shouldn’t have and everything you couldn’t keep yourself from.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

As you looked at the man sitting on the ground across from you, eyes so cried out and tired they were seeing red, you knew you had no right to spit such words in his face, but the hurt and heartache, the anger at the unfairness of it all, it was clouding your judgement, making you want to hurt him like his present and upcoming absence from your life was hurting you.

“I know you’re upset about today. I’m sorry.” He looked pained, and he refused to look at you. He looked… spent. Exhausted and sad. Way sadder than you imagined he would be, if this was just about today. Something wasn’t right.

“Why would I be upset about today? You did what you had to do. I mean, she’s going to be your mate soon, right? It’s her hands that should be healing you anyway, not mine.” You eyed the wounds on his body that were now clean, but still red, and still mostly open. “Those are going to scar, by the way.”

He stood up suddenly. A step is all it took to reach you and his hand on your chest shot bouts of electricity all throughout your body, that you struggled to ignore. It took very little effort for him to push you back onto the bed until the warmth and softness of your blanket touched the skin that wasn’t wrapped in a towel. He followed suit, his body hovering on top of yours, and you felt his braids tickling your face and neck as his eyes bore intensely into yours.

“Stop. I know you are upset. I wish it could have been you. You know me, Vol. You know I wish it could have been you.”

You shook your head slightly, dreading how the tears were falling down the sides of your face and nestling in your ears. You didn’t know. Not anymore.

“You should go, Neteyam. This isn’t right. You’re engaged to someone else. I watched her today, watched how worried she was about you, how desperate to help you, to take you away so it’s just the two of you. You’re going to mate with this girl any day now. There’s no room for me in your life anymore. Not like this, anyway.”

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The first time you and Neteyam made love came after you were both spent from taking orgasm after orgasm out of each other. You were laying on his chest, tracing each twinkling freckle on it with your index finger, making patterns, making galaxies out of the stars proudly adorning his skin, the most beautiful stars to ever exist, to you.

Almost as if thinking out loud, you spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“You are so beautiful. It hurts me sometimes, the gaping differences between us. How dull and boring I am compared to you. How daft my skin, compared to your shiny, glowy one. How sullen my eyes look when I see them in the reflection of your bright ones, sparkling like the sun. I would give anything to look like you. Anything to be like you.” Sighing, dropping hot wet tears on his chest, you continued. “Everything would be so much easier if I looked like you.”

Almost uncharacteristically, Neteyam’s hand cupped your cheek gently and tugged slightly until your eyes met.

“Stop. Please. You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. You always have been. Your eyes are like the planets my satellites orbit around. I see them everywhere I go, every moment of my day, every dream I dream at night, there’s nothing else besides your eyes, besides your face, and your lips. Besides the words that come out of them, that somehow guide my every thought, focus my world and let me go on. You are more than beautiful, more than any word invented in any language that we speak. You are everything, ok? Everything.”

That did nothing to stop your tears, that fell even harder down your cheeks, forming a puddle on his chest.

“You can’t say these things, Neteyam.”

“Why not?”

“You know why not.”

“You can’t make me fall in love with you. And you can’t fall in love with me. What we’re doing is already complicated. Already beyond what either of us could explain to anyone we love. And that’s ok, because what we have works. But it won’t work if the feelings run deeper than what depth we’re comfortable swimming in. You’re going to leave me one day, and if you leave me and I’m in love with you, it will break me. So you can’t say things like that to me.”

He had a playful smile on his face, but his eyes were forceful and full of intensity as he got on top of you and looked down into yours.

“I’m not going to fall in love with you, and you’re not going to fall in love with me. We got this, Vol. But I will never leave you. I could never leave you. You’re my best friend. You’re everything to me.”

You let out a soft sob that was silenced by his lips pressing on yours and the sound was replaced by pleasured moans and whimpered sounds, of silent confessions that marked the end of comfort and the beginning of the end.

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Back when we were still changing for the better

Wanting was enough, for me, it was enough to live for the hope of it all

Cancel plans just in case you'd call and say, "Meet me behind the mall"

He sighed as he got off from on top of you, his own tears falling on your face as he did so. He didn’t look at you as he spoke.

“The engagement is broken.”

The relief that flooded your mind didn’t have time to wash over you before he continued.

“Because I’m leaving. I’m leaving the Omatikaya, and so is my family.”

You and Neteyam shared many firsts. Your first heartbreak, the one that would break your spirit and your soul and your bones and ground them into a fine dust to be blown away by the wind, would just be one of many others.

So much for summer love and saying "us"

'Cause you weren't mine to lose

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @netemoon @fanboyluvr

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wkemeup · 1 year

Text

The Casket

summary: When a mission goes wrong, you’re helpless but to watch as Bucky is forced into the object of his nightmares – Hydra’s cryochamber.

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 12.5k

warnings: canon level violence, nightmares, body warming tropes, pissed off reader won’t stop until she saves her man,

a/n: Here it is. The last fic in my archive. I adore you all so much. Thank you for everything 💕 In case you missed it, here’s the post on the future of this blog.

You woke to darkness. The bedroom was cast only in the dim light of stars and the pale glow of the alarm clock. It had yet to reach the witching hour. Daring a glance over the safety of warm covers, you spotted the ends of curtains dancing at the window as an icy draft escaped through the thin fabric.

It was warm the evening before, but New York weather was unpredictable in the changing seasons. The crickets chirping down by the lake had been a comfort as the sun had set. It was a glimpse of Spring on the horizon. Hours later, your breath was visible in each exhale.

Wincing as another breeze crept through the open window, you sleepily brushed your eyes. Snow blanketed the grounds. Layers of white piled onto tree branches and coated the hills behind the compound. A dusting of ice lay upon the ledge within your bedroom.

A weight shifted on the bed beside you. Bucky slept with his arms tucked tight under the pillow, a lock of hair hung over his eyes. He groaned as a shiver trembled along his spine. Gently, you traced a line with your fingertips over his brow, guiding the hair away from his eyes. His nose twitched in his sleep. He looked so young as he slept. Peaceful. Even as he shivered against the breeze.

You leaned over and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades, lips grazing over his t-shirt. He seemed to relax against the touch, if only for a moment, before the cold air brushed his skin again. You cursed the frigid Northeastern weather and quickly pulled yourself from under the comfort of the sheets.

Dressed only in one of Bucky’s discarded t-shirts, the icy air was unbearable as you crossed the room. Bucky usually ran as warm as a furnace so you had little use for much fabric sleeping beside him; often, you wore less and still took easy comfort in the heat of his body.

A final breeze crept through the cracked window before you could close it, brushing against your exposed thighs. Your whole body shook with shivers and you rubbed your chilled hands down your arms in a fruitless attempt to draw warmth. Closing the window hadn’t provided the instantaneous relief you’d hoped for, but you knew Bucky would warm up soon enough. The serum all but ensured it. And you certainly didn’t need an excuse to climb into his bed and curl up against his sleeping frame.

You took only one step back toward the bed when you heard Bucky groan again – though this time it was something painful, something aching. You paused, startled by the sound. For the first time since you woke, you noticed the inflection of a whimper muffled by the pillow.

Cautiously, you inched closer to him, heart sinking as you caught sight of the deep lines on his brow and the sharp cut of his teeth into his bottom lip. You saw then how violently his right arm was shaking, his body trembling with every hollow breath.

“Bucky?” you called quietly.

You’d seen his nightmares before. The faded imprint of a scar along the left of your collarbone was proof enough of what Bucky endured in his sleep – waking to a state where he was unable to separate dream from reality, past from present, captor from lover. He hadn’t known it was you – that the shadowy figure in his room was the woman he loved and not the Hydra handler he’d known in his dreams. You often caught him tracing the scarred line upon your skin when he thought you were long asleep, carrying the guilt of what happened even years later.

But Bucky hadn’t woken from a nightmare like that in nearly a year. Stability, family, and therapy had done him good. He’d severed his connection to the Winter Soldier and the fear that his mind would slip back into that bleak, unforgiving darkness.

This... This was different.

There was no cold detachment. No grip of anger or vengeance.

What laid upon his features instead... was fear.

“Sweetheart?” You sank to your knees at the edge of the bed, bristling against the cold hardwood floors.

Bucky’s features were distorted – his brow pinching at the center, his jaw wired shut and still, his breathing was harsh in every clouded exhale. He pressed his face into the edge of the pillow to suffocate the whimper slipping through.

“Not again,” he mumbled, barely audible against the silk pillowcase. “Please... I don’t... I don’t want to... Not again...”

You drew in a shallow breath, heart sinking beyond the floorboards to the depth of the foundation below. There was a reason Bucky couldn’t stand the winter; why he insisted on keeping your room set to sweltering conditions. Every shiver on his spine – every drop of snow – brought him back to the vessel that had stolen years of his life. The tomb that had sustained him in crystalized ice like a weapon in storage until Hydra deemed him useful again.

“You’re okay. I'm here with you, baby. You're safe,” you whispered as you lifted the blanket he held clutched within his grip and slipped yourself under the covers beside him.

There was little room for comfort between Bucky and the edge of the mattress, leaving your back exposed to the chilled air. You cursed your frozen fingers as you curled yourself around him – sliding a leg between his own, wrapping your arm around his waist, tucking your nose to the crook of his neck. Clinging to him in an effort to give him as much warmth as you could offer. All of it, if your body would allow it. You’d let yourself freeze if it would grant him an ounce of relief.

It took several minutes before you could no longer see your breaths flutter against Bucky’s collar, before his body stopped shaking and the ice warmed from his skin. You did not dare to slack your grip on him in fear you might find the red imprint of your hands along his spine, tucked under the thin layer of his shirt. Even as he stilled, quiet whispers slipped through the haze of his dream – the paralyzing fear he held of the chamber that had housed him for decades.

You held onto him tighter – clung to him as if he might slip through your grasp and plummet to the icy embrace of the ravine. You held him until sweat beaded on his forehead and the spine of his shirt was damp with it. Until his heartrate began to fall to an even pace and his chest no longer rose in short, shallow gasps. Until, what felt like hours later, when his lips grazed your temple and the soft murmur of an apology shattered your heart.

You pulled back only enough to see the shame burning dark into the blue of his eyes. It seemed to suffocate the light there, burrowing claws into his spine until it dragged him a step back into the shadows. You shook your head against his collar, tucking in tighter to his frame, unwilling to deny him even a lost second of warmth.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you assured him. "I'm just holding you. That’s all. I love holding you, in fact.”

Bucky’s chest shook for a fraction of a moment with quiet laughter, though you knew very little of it would be present in his eyes. It was a distraction – a levity he needed to allow himself to move forward, to not let his feet get stuck in the mud of his past.

“I know you do,” he sighed, squeezing you a little tighter.

It was where you felt most at home – when you struggled to draw in a full breath because of how close he held you. To be completely encompassed by the warmth of his body and the security of his strength. The soft give of his right arm curled around the dip in your waist, the left draped over your shoulders. No hesitation in his embrace. No reluctance for the history of an arm that had burden him for decades. No second guesses of the love you held for him and the parts of his body he despised.

Several breaths of silence passed before he spoke again.

“You’d think I would have liked being in cryo.”

You almost flinched in his arms and you desperately hoped he did not notice the sharp catch of your breath at his words. If he did, he didn’t say anything. Gently, you slid your hand – now warmed in Bucky’s embrace – under the seam of his t-shirt and began to trace gingered lines along the curve of his spine. A gentle encouragement to continue.

Bucky swallowed as though the words tasted of bile. “They couldn’t touch me when I was in there. Couldn’t starve me or punish me. Couldn't give me orders. Couldn't put me in that... that fucking chair. I was just... nothing. Everything stopped. You’d think... You’d think it would be a relief.”

You pressed your lips to his collarbone, inching in closer though you were already pressed flush against his body. Anything to make him feel safer. To remind him that he was lying in this bed with you in his arms and not halfway across the world in a metal box lined in ice.

“It was worse,” Bucky admitted, his voice shattered as if gravel churned in his lungs. “I never knew if it would be the last time. If they’d just... forget about me or... decide I was used up and... and leave me there. At least when I was him, I could breathe. I... I had some sense of humanity. The cell they kept me in was a cage but cryo... cryo was a fucking casket. Storing me in a box like I was... like I was nothing more than a...”

He could have finished that sentence in ten different ways, each enough to break your heart worse than the last – a weapon, a monster, an object, a tool. He could have, but instead, you felt the warmth of a tense breath brush against your crown as he willed his body back to his control. His hands stopped shaking with panic, his chest taking in as much air as it would allow. Slowly, he relaxed into your arms again.

“They won’t do that to you again,” you whispered though your voice was laced in the rage you felt for the men who had induced such fear into the man you loved. “I won’t let them.”

You felt the soft curve of Bucky’s lips against your forehead. A ghost of a smile. “I know, sweetheart.”

The sliver of doubt in his voice brought tears to your eyes.

“You are safe and you are real and you are my world, okay?” you told him, hands sliding up to the sides of his face, begging him to look at you. You dared him to try and carry his doubts while you held him in your arms, while you told him you loved him so desperately. “You are everything. You’re not some weapon to be put away. You are a person. My person. I would die before I let them do that to you again. I would kill them all.”

The flicker of surprise was subtle, barely a noticeable shift in the blue of his eyes, but you saw it. For as much as you told Bucky of your love for him, he could not let go of the seed of doubt instilled in him from his time at Hydra – the doubt that convinced him he was not enough, that he was broken and shattered and unworthy of your love. But you’d remind him a dozen times if he needed it. A thousand. You’d tell him every day if only to subside the doubt for another day.

Bucky pulled you close to his chest. His lips grazed over your forehead as he whispered, “I love you,” to your hairline. His breath was warm over your skin, his embrace tightening around your waist. You knew those words did not come easily to him, that he often showed you how he felt for you more often than he was able to speak it, and you held him a little tighter in return.

Bucky sighed something that sounded of disappointment before a knock came at the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing Steve’s reluctant expression in the frame. You realized then that Bucky must have heard Steve’s footsteps approaching and tensed for the interruption, though Steve looked less than thrilled to be awake this hour as well judging by the pillow crease marks on his cheeks and the chaotic fluff of his dark blonde hair.

“Sorry guys,” Steve said, a frown tugging at his mouth. “Fury’s calling us in.”

***

The first mention of Hydra jolted whatever lingering tiredness you felt.

Bucky hardly reacted as Fury detailed the mission – a stealth op to dismantle a crucial Hydra weapons facility. It wouldn’t take more than a virus to their computer system to reduce their weapons to useless metal, but you’d need to be on-site to make it happen. It was an active base, but most of their agents were out on various assignments – opening a window for SHIELD to make a move on a vulnerable Hydra stronghold.

It wasn’t the first time Bucky had been on a mission where Hydra was concerned and it certainly wouldn’t be his last, but you grieved for any pain he felt walking back amongst those halls, amongst the sort of men who enslaved him and made him to feel as if he was the monster.

Bucky would keep close to you while inside the Hydra facility, assigned as backup while you input the codes meant to unravel Hydra’s weapons supply. Steve and Natasha had their own assignment, not that the director felt the need to brief you on the details. Two birds, one stone, Fury had said. While you broke down their coding, Natasha would be downloading intel classified above your paygrade on the opposite end of the building. It didn’t make for easy backup, but there was a limited time frame to get this done undetected. And Fury trusted the four of you to get it done. And you would.

The turbulence was rough on the descent, but Bucky’s hands clenched the straps of his seat whether the jetstream was smooth or not. You glanced over at him, studying the tension in his body and the hard concentration of his gaze through the pilot’s window where Steve and Nat were talking quietly to one another.

Gently, you set a hand against his knee. Though the touch startled him, he seemed to snap out of his gaze and his shoulders slowly began to relax. A soft smile pressed on his lips, a heaviness in his eyes as silent appreciation nestled over his features. He released his hold on the straps, the movement seeming to ache in his right hand, and he opened his palm to you. You took it graciously and brought your clasped hands to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

“It’ll be fine, Buck,” you told him. “It always is.”

Bucky nodded, forcing out a smile despite the lingering hesitancy. “Of course. I get to watch my girl bring Hydra to their knees. I think I can call that a good day.”

You grinned, grateful to see his eyes brighten even as Steve landed the jet in a discreet break in the woods. His heart rate slowed the longer you held his hand, the tension in his body melting the longer he looked at you.

“Ready?” Steve called from the cockpit. Natasha had already strapped five weapons to her suit by the time Steve pulled himself out from the pilot’s seat. She sent him a teasing smirk as she unlatched the loading dock.

Bucky squared his shoulders. It would always be a challenge for him to enter a Hydra base, even as a fully certified Avenger. Whether he was housed in these halls as the Winter Soldier or not, distorted memories worked their way to the surface and often followed him home after a mission like this. Pride was not enough to describe the feeling that bloomed in your chest as Bucky swallowed back his demons and took the first step forward off the jet, leaving the fear behind him.

“You have eighteen minutes,” Nat reminded you of the plan. “Get in and get out.”

You nodded, exchanging a quick glance with Bucky. He offered you a strained smile in return.

“Eighteen minutes,” you confirmed. “We’ve got this.”

***

You felt it in your bones from the moment you stepped foot in the empty hallway. The reportedly active Hydra base was eerily abandoned. It was as if they were waiting for you.

It worsened as you made your way to the computer mainframe without interruption. No silent alarms to trip, no guards rounding the halls on duty waiting for a sliver of action. Bucky sensed it too and though he did not say a word, he kept pace a single step ahead of you, careful to check the adjoining rooms along the hall before he let you step out into the vulnerable openings.

“It shouldn’t be this easy,” you stressed as you typed away at the keyboard, inputting the codes needed to dismantle their hardware. You passed every firewall without issue. It hadn’t even been this easy during your training at the academy.

“I know,” Bucky agreed, his voice tense. He looked to the hallway; his hand still tight around his rifle. His finger had not moved from the trigger since you entered the building. “Forget the assignment. We need to get out of here. Now.”

You passed another firewall. Only two more to go.

“I’ve almost got it, Buck,” you told him. “Give me two minutes and we’re out.”

Bucky swallowed; his gaze fixed on the hall. Reluctancy furrowed his brow, but he nodded anyway. “Two minutes. And then I’m dragging you out of here, understood?”

You smirked, though you did not look up from the screen. “Yes, sir.”

It got a tense laugh out of him at least. Restrained and muffled, but still there. It was a strange thing to hear his laughter in a place like this – to know these halls had once witnessed such violence only to see his joy years later. It was a vengeance of sorts. To still hold light amongst such darkness.

As you continued to fire off code after code to shatter the computer’s defenses, Bucky hovered behind you, his pacing insistent as he trailed a path from one end of the room to the other. He couldn’t let himself stand still. Could not let his body relax for even a second. Not here.

“Got it!” You hit the final key stroke but suddenly, the screen went black. The buzzing hum of the overworked ventilation on the side of the monitor dulled to an unsettling silence.

You froze, hands still hovering over the keyboards. “That can’t be good.”

A series of clicking sounds began to rattle overhead. Your eyes darted to the ceiling as you followed the sound as if waiting for some sort of creature to drop from the airducts, as if expecting something living to be crawling its way through the ceiling tiles.

“Bucky...” you warned, backing up from the computer. He was only a few paces from the door when you heard the distinct click of locks latching into place. You spun toward him, heart pounding as he shoved his left shoulder into the door though it barely gave way under his strength. He slammed into it again, his hair falling quickly out of place, matching the growing panic on his features. The metal door fractured under the strength of vibranium but it wasn’t enough.

A bitterness burned in your nose as you drew in a shallow breath. Wincing at the sensation, your eyes trailed up to the ceiling to find a cloud of green mist billowing into the room. It coated over the entire ceiling, sinking lower and lower with every passing second. By the time you looked back to Bucky to warn him, he’d already noticed the gas and lunged toward you. His hand clamped over your nose and mouth; his breathing sporadic. You watched in horror as the gas drew into his lungs with each desperate inhale.

“Don’t breathe it in!” he shouted; his eyes already hazy, his balance swaying. “Don’t breathe it... in... Don’t...”

His hand slipped from your face as if he no longer had the strength to carry the weight of his own arm. The horror of it flashed through the sedated weight in his eyes. Slowly, his gaze lifted to yours – apology and remorse burrowed deep into the soft shades of blue. He stumbled then against the desk, trying to catch himself as his balance gave way. You dove for him, but he was too heavy for you to carry, and he crashed against the unforgiving tile with an awful thud.

“Bucky!” You slid to your knees beside him; hands desperately brushing against his cheeks, drawing the hair from his eyes, begging him to wake. You coughed through the smoke as it filled the room, green gas blinding you enough that you could hardly make out Bucky’s features as he laid mere inches from you.

Your body began to feel heavy and you knew you’d succumb to the gas soon enough. There was no word from Steve or Nat on the coms, only an eerie silence listening in. Slowly, you lowered yourself to the ground, rested your head against Bucky’s chest – as if to pretend for only a moment that it was merely sleep you sought. It was only a bad dream. By morning you would wake at home in the comfort of your shared bed.

There was no fighting the pull on your consciousness. It dragged you to the darkness as you listened to the steady thump of Bucky’s heart through the thick layers of Kevlar. Lulling you to sleep as poison filled your lungs.

***

“It’s been too long since he’s been wiped,” a voice whispered to a quiet room. Distant – like it echoed from the end of a long tunnel. “He’s too unstable like this.”

You groaned, willing your eyes to open though they felt impossibly heavy. Weight burrowed onto your limbs, paralyzing you, though you sensed it was the aftermath of whatever drug was in the green mist you’d inhaled.

Slanting your eyes open, you caught a blurred image of Bucky propped against the wall. He was unrestrained. Two guards stood on either side of him holding tasers strong enough to knock out a rabid animal. The tips of Bucky’s fingers began to twitch – the slight movement promising he wouldn’t take long to wake from the drug induced haze.

“We won’t be able to control him unless he’s under,” a second voice continued, one of two men stood huddled in the corner of the room wearing long, white coats with several pens tucked into their breast pockets. They were thin and meek in comparison to the soldiers flanking Bucky; stealing concerned glances at the former Winter Soldier.

“The chamber is ready for him now,” the first agreed, a short a round looking man with thin rimmed glasses and cheeks redder than the mark of Hydra’s emblem on his jacket. “We must hurry before he has the strength to fight back.”

Whatever clouded your mind and body vanished in an instant as your gaze followed the pointed hand of the scientist. It was as if you were drenched in ice water – awareness snapping back to your bones with the full force of freight train.

It was worse than what you had imagined.

The long, countless wires running along the floor strapped into the thick metal frame. A bed made of unforgiving steel and iron discolored over centuries of use. A door with latches and locks trailing up the entirety of the border. Frost clinging to the condensation of the small glass window and a violent hissing sound as a cold breeze blew through the tube at the top of the chamber.

The cryochamber.

Heart pounding, you stayed as still as your body could manage in effort to not alert the men of your regained consciousness. You stared at Bucky, desperately willing him to wake before the scientists gave the order to have his unconscious body thrown into cryo. Your nails dug into your palms. Blood seeped onto the floor as the scientists muttered quickly to one another, adjusting dials on the machine that plagued Bucky’s dreams and fidgeting with the ends of their sleeves.

Slowly, Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. Still sedated, still hazy, but he found you within seconds. Relief swelled in your chest, though it was not enough to overtake the clutch of panic over your heart. Bucky flexed his hands, testing his body’s response. He gave you a short nod, barely noticeable to the guards standing above him, signaling for your ready. You steadied yourself on your breath and returned the nod.

On cue, you both jumped from your seemingly helpless positions and lunged to attack. Before you could knock them out, one of the scientists managed to sound the alarm. A bright red light flooded the room, a roaring siren blaring in your ears. The smaller of the two men – the one who had alerted for backup – held his hands in the air as you stalked closer, his terrified gaze glancing down at the unconscious body of his colleague. If he was expecting mercy from you, he had gravely misjudged who he was dealing with. It took one blow for him to fall.

At the other end of the room, electricity buzzed through the short gaps in the siren’s scream as the bright ends of the tasers flared. Sadistic smirks lifted the edges of the guards' mouths, as if they were waiting for an opportunity to maim the Winter Soldier. If one so much as grazed Bucky’s skin, it could bring him to his knees in seconds. You didn’t want to imagine the voltage on the ends of those batons or whether a strike might stop your heart before you could even reach him.

It didn’t stop you from sprinting towards him anyway.

But you only made it a few steps before an arm latched around your wrist and yanked you back.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” One of the guards hissed, a gold tooth glaring under the reflection of the red alarm overhead. Two of his friends snickered behind him – the backup the cowardly scientist had called for before you knocked him out.

Not bothering to deem his rather unoriginal taunt a response, you barreled a roundhouse kick to his ribs instead, knocking him off balance. He stumbled a few paces, sneering a crude insult under his breath. The others charged after you, earning a fist to their ribs, throat, and temple, before you shove the sole of your boot directly to the heart of their chests just as Natasha demonstrated for you in the ring weeks earlier. They dropped like flies, and you smirked as you straightened your back, reminding yourself to thank her later.

You turned back to Bucky, who had taken out one of the guards, though the other had managed to acquire both batons. His eyes flashed to you in warning, urging you to hold your ground, telling you that he had it handled. Those tasers were no joke and it was taking all his concentration not to let the burning edges take him out.

You gritted your teeth, watching from your safe distance. The electricity singed the ends of Bucky’s sleeve on the last swing and he hissed, his face contorting in pain from even the smallest brush. Screw that. You were going to stand on the sidelines while he suffered. Not in this godforsaken place.

You sprinted toward him and wasted no time before you dove the edge of your elbow between the guard’s shoulder blades. He cried out, losing his stance for only a second – but it was all the opportunity Bucky needed to gain the advantage. One hit to the sternum, another to the stomach, and the guard’s grip on the taser slacked. Bucky caught it before it could hit the ground, not offering the same reprieve to the guard before his nose broke against the tile.

Bucky exhaled, his chest rising rapidly as his eyes slowly lifted to you. A flash of panic coursed through him as he tensed, a hand suddenly reaching out for you, but you were pulled quickly out of his grasp. An arm slung over your collar as the cold press of a barrel dug against your temple, stilling your attempts to pry free.

“Go ahead, princess,” the guard sneered, his breath sticky and hot against your cheek. “Give me a reason to pull the trigger.”

You froze, gaze centered solely on Bucky. His body was rigid, his grip on the baton so tight you wondered if it might snap under his strength. His eyes darted back and forth, his thumb inching closer to the trigger for the taser, and you knew he was calculating his next move – how to get you out of the arms of the guard without the gun going off.

“Don’t even think about it, Soldat,” the guard hissed, waving the gun in Bucky’s direction before it returned to your temple. It pressed against you hard enough to tilt your head, unable to withstand the pressure. “Drop it. Now.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes meeting yours. You could see the resistance filtering through the blue of his eyes – the desperation to defend himself smothered by his need to keep you from being harmed. Slowly, he did as he was ordered and released the taser from his grip. The baton now on the floor, Bucky nudged it with his boot so it slid to the guard. He raised his arms defensively in the air – tension burning through his shoulders.

“Interesting...” the guard pondered. You could practically feel his smirk rising against your neck.

“You have me, okay? I’m what you want, right? Let her go,” Bucky demanded, though he was in no position to do so. The guard yanked you backwards, dragging you to the center of the room, leaving Bucky to follow.

“I’ve heard rumors of the woman who claimed the cold heart of our greatest weapon, but I never expected it to make you so docile,” the guard taunted. “But not to worry. We’ll make quick work of you. Such weakness won’t be tolerated by Hydra.”

“Fuck Hydra,” you sneered, yanking against the guard’s hold. You kicked your heel to his shin, pleased at the whine that slipped through his yellowed teeth. “He’s not going anywhere with you!”

“Quiet, bitch!” The barrel of the gun jabbed into your neck, enough that you started to choke against it. Gasping for air against the pressure suffocating your windpipe, you dug your nails until the guard’s forearm, blood trickling in your wake, though he didn’t relent. Bucky’s hands raised a little higher, the subtle tells of panic fracturing through the seemingly stoic nature of his calm expression.

“Okay, okay!” Bucky eased, trying to get the guard to turn his attention from you. Only when the gun released from your throat, returning to the soft flesh on your temple, did Bucky dare to speak again. “What do you what?”

“I think you already know, Soldat.”

Bucky’s jaw flexed, the muscle growing taunt under the skin. His otherwise stoic features gave away little to what he was thinking, to the burning rage coursing under his skin or the panic seeping into his veins. You'd spent too many nights coaxing his demons away, too many hours memorizing the lines on his face, too much time falling in love with every inch of the man before you to not recognize fear on his face when it grabbed ahold of him.

All it took was a subtle twitch of his gaze.

The chamber.

“No,” you choked out, the word barely audible through the hoarse ache in your throat. “No!”

“Go on, Soldat,” the guard instructed, gesturing to the cryochamber. The amusement in his voice was sickening, churning deep into your stomach as each word slithered off his venomous tongue.

Bucky swallowed, looking to the chamber. His right hand curled to a fist, his chest struggling to find pace with each new breath, but still – he eased himself from the edge of panic. His shoulders relaxed; his hand unclenched. Slowly, ocean blue returned to you and your stomach dropped to a free fall, your knees nearly giving way under the hold of the guard.

Because what coated Bucky’s features was no longer the fear you’d witnessed in the early hours of the morning, when sweat beaded into his hair and his pulse climbed beyond what his heart could handle. But instead, the lines on his face sank to a semblance of resignation that made you want to scream until your lungs gave out.

It was acceptance.

For what he was about to do. For what he would willing subject himself to again if it meant you walked out of this room alive.

Nausea crept up your throat, bile burning on your tongue, as you watched Bucky slowly walk toward the chamber.

“No!” Your voice was shattered as the word broke past cracked lips. You struggled against the grip of the guard, but he only pressed the barrel of the gun tighter to your head, surely bruising the skin. You barely felt it, not as Bucky took each step closer to the chamber that had haunted his dreams just hours earlier. You could still feel the damp fabric of his shirt under your hands, the slight trembling of his body as you held him. It was etched into your memory – burned there. And he took another willing step toward it.

“Don’t do this,” you cried out, whining under the strain of the gun jarring into your temple. “Bucky, please. You don’t have to do this! Just fight back! Fight back!”

“Get back in your fucking storage, Soldat,” the guard taunted with a sickening laugh, ignoring your pleas.

Rage burrowed into your veins at the reflexive flinch over Bucky’s shoulders, how he swallowed back the shame, the humiliation, and set a hand against the machine that would be his tomb. It cracked something in you – snapped your last remaining thread of self-preservation and you swung your elbow back at the guard’s ribs with as much force as you could manage.

The barrel of the gun slipped as it rung out – the echo shattering your eardrum into a numbed, high pitch ringing. You dove for the guard.

Through the chaos, you did not hear the door swing open, nor the influx of a dozen Hydra agents swarming the room. Vision blurring to pure red, you did not see the paralyzing fear in Bucky’s eyes as he sprinted into action – how he took out nearly three men on his way to you.

The golden tooth guard laid upon the floor, still holding the gun in his hands as you towered over him, though this time – it was his eyes that bore crippling fear as you brushed away the stream of blood from your temple.

It only took a well-placed kick to his wrist to slack his hold on the gun. He whimpered, crawling back along the floor to escape you. But there was nowhere he could go. Nowhere to hide. You swore you’d kill any man who dared to put Bucky back in that godforsaken coffin and you’d do it without a trace of remorse. You’d take your time with him. Make sure he knew what would happen if he dared to threaten the Winter Soldier in your presence.

Just as you bent to retrieve the gun, intent on ending this fight, a scream broke through the ringing in your ears – one you’d heard more often than you ever cared to admit, a scream that often woke you from your sleep and haunted your silences.

Bucky.

He was on his knees as you frantically turned in search of him, overwhelmed by the number of Hydra agents surrounding him. His eyes were falling heavy, his body swaying as he clutched his ribs. Smoke filtered from the frayed edges of his suit between his fingers, around the bloodied purple and red marks on his skin. Above him, two of the Hydra guards flared the ends of their tasers, grinning wildly at one another.

You moved to fire single headshots into each of the guards, but your vision was beginning to fade. Doubling. Circling. Muscles suddenly aching with heaviness. The gun slipped from your grip and you stumbled backwards until you fell into the hard frame of a body, arms quickly encasing around you to hold you still.

“Get her out of here!” Bucky's distorted voice shouted through your haze. Blood smeared over your vision, dripping from the wound running from your temple to the center of your forehead. You could hardly keep yourself conscious, but you willed your eyes open on panic alone – watching as the guards stabbed the burning end of the taser into Bucky’s ribs again, his cries sinking straight to your stomach.

The man keeping you steady hesitated on Bucky’s order and you used the advantage to try to break free of his hold, but you were too weak, your body too exhausted. Watching helplessly as another taser burrowed into Bucky’s ribs was enough to break you from your fog.

“No! I’m not leaving you!” you cried, blood spewed from your lips with every word. You were in no condition to fight, no condition to aid the blur of auburn hair and black leather as Natasha did her best to subdue an increasing number of assailants.

“Steve!” Bucky ordered. Tears burned down the sides of your face at the crack of desperation in his voice. The guards shoved his weakened body toward the chamber. “You promised me! Do it now!”

You could feel the resistance coursing through Steve’s body as he held you on your feet – the sudden anger rushing in through the taunt flex of his muscle. But he began to drag you towards the exit anyway, even as Bucky trembled on the floor, his body seizing from the sudden surge of electricity. You screamed as if the tasers had plunged straight to your own heart.

“Y/n, listen to me! We have to go!” Steve urged; his voice strained. “There’s too many of them!”

Sobs tore through your body as Steve hauled you from the room. Natasha followed quickly behind, clearing as much of a path as she could to keep the Hydra agents from swarming you. Your attempts to break free were useless – even if you were at full strength. Steve was too strong, the serum too powerful. There was nothing you could do to stop what was about to happen.

You were going to leave your heart behind.

Leave him to the people who broke him.

The last thing you saw before your vision caved in was the Hydra guards’ sickening grins as they dragged Bucky’s unconscious body to the open cryochamber. The darkness that followed was no relief.

***

It was a betrayal to sit within the safety and comfort of the compound’s walls. A betrayal to let Helen bandage the torn flesh on your forehead from where the bullet grazed your skin. A betrayal to clean the blood from your suit and your hair in favor of fresh soaps and warm towels. A betrayal to breathe as Bucky was kept hostage by Hydra in that fucking chamber.

Your arms were crossed firmly over your chest, your back slumped into the conference room chair. Somewhere at the head of the table, Fury was giving orders to stand down, to stay put until a plan was put into place and ‘Sergeant Barnes could be extracted efficiently.’

You knew what that meant – a shit ton of red tape and days of sitting around waiting on approval from a board of wealthy old men who never left the safety of their cozy penthouse offices. Waiting for them to deem Bucky’s freedom a necessary commodity to SHIELD; to decide that his life was work the risk of a rescue mission. They sat in their leather chairs, behind their marbled desks, and weighed the worth of Bucky Barnes’ life.

Screw that.

“I want confirmation from you, Agent Y/L/n,” Fury ordered from the head of the long table.

You glanced up at him, face blank. You hadn’t a clue what the last thing he said was, but you suspected he was ordering you to stay on base, to not go after Bucky yourself. The entire room was watching you, studying you as if you might snap under the weight of the last twenty-four hours.

Natasha sat in the chair across from you, her eyes the only feature giving way to the concern lingering under the stoic surface. Sam hovered from the door at the back of the room – not having been on the mission himself and still, he argued his way into the debrief room when word broke the team was coming back to base one less than when they left.

But Steve – Steve was standing next to Fury, one hand on his belt, the other leaning against the table. All high and mighty. He was the one who dragged you from that room. He was the one who forced you to leave Bucky behind. If anyone should shatter under the guilt of what happened, it should be him.

“Agent Y/L/n,” Fury repeated.

You swallowed back bile. “I won’t go after Barnes.”

Fury exhaled a sigh of obvious relief, turning to the rest of the team. “Sit tight. I’ll get word to you when we have clearance for a rescue op.”

You kicked out your chair and stormed from the room the second you were dismissed, unable to stand choking back the same air as the people who would willing leave Bucky in the arms of Hydra.

There was little else centering you than pure determination and rage as you shoved open the door into your room. You didn’t allow yourself to look at the unmade bed – the sheets still crumpled from the aftermath of a nightmare Bucky had fallen prey to. You didn’t stop to notice Bucky's t-shirt hung over the edge of the lounge chair in the corner of the room or the rows of photographs on the dresser. You couldn’t. You'd collapse if you did and you’d be no use to him then.

You grabbed your suit from the closet and fisted it into your backpack. There was no way Fury would let the armory dispense you a weapon, so you'd have to make due to with the handgun Bucky kept under his nightstand. It was heavier than your usual choice, but you were left with limited options. You’d storm a Hydra base on your own with nothing but your bare hands if you had to.

By the time you made it to the landing bay, Steve was waiting for you at the mouth of the jet. He was dressed in full combat gear as if he was prepared for you to try to take the jet on your own, as if he was ready to fight to keep you from going after the man who was supposed to be his best friend.

“Get the hell out of my way, Rogers.” You walked past Steve with little resistance, tossing your backpack to the row of seats in the front of the jet. “You’re not going to convince me to let this go, so don’t bother. You can kick me off the team after I bring Bucky home.”

Steve clenched his jaw, a tight line across his lips as if restraining himself. Just as you slid into the pilot’s seat, Steve slammed a hand to the trigger to close the ramp, closing himself inside the jet with you. You turned back to him, annoyance and surprise furrowing your brow.

“You think I wanted to leave him behind? Is that it?” Steve snapped, coming up behind you and yanking the pilot’s headphones from your grip. He gestured for you to stand and you did so cautiously, watching as he took your intended seat behind the dashboard.

“You think I’m not sick at the thought of leaving him to those monsters? After all he’s been through?” Steve gritted his teeth, flipping switch after switch until the board began to light up. Panic ensued below on the landing bay – SHIELD agents running around frantically trying to figure out how to stop Captain America from taking off.

“It fucking kills me, Y/n,” he hissed. Then, he slammed his hand against the switchboard harsher than you suspected he meant to. A dent was left behind on the knob under his palm when he pulled it back. He winced at the red mark on his skin.

“Captain Rogers, stand down!” a sudden voice echoed through the jet – air control.

He ignored the command, flipping a few more switches until the jet engines roared to life.

“He’s a brother to me,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard the frantic efforts of the SHIELD agents attempting to keep him on base. “My best friend. Leaving him there gutted me. If you think I was going to just stand by while we wait on some bureaucratic schmucks to give us permission to after him, you don’t know me very well at all.”

There was anger in his voice. Resentment. Perhaps, if you let yourself acknowledge it, a sliver of betrayal.

“I jumped out of a plane into Nazi territory for him. Against the orders of my superiors, mind you. When everyone told me he was beyond saving,” Steve reminded you, his knuckles white as he clenched the wheel. “Hell, I was a fugitive for him, Y/n. And you think I’d just leave him there?”

You gaped at him, unable to respond. Guilt burned warm in your cheeks.

“This is a direct order!” air control called again. “Stand down, Captain!”

Steve turned off communications, nearly breaking the transmissions nodule in the process. He let out a heavy exhale, and for the first time since you returned to base, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines running over his forehead.

“He made me swear an oath to him. Did you know that?” Steve said, his voice softer now. You sank into the co-pilot chair beside him, a slow shake of your head. He pulled on the yoke, lifting the jet into the air much to the panic of the crews below.

“It was early on,” he continued, “earlier than you’d guess, I think. Before you got together. Back when he was pining over you, still convinced he wasn’t worthy of anything good in his life. He made me swear that if it ever came down to... to him or you... that I’d make sure you got out alive.”

Something in your heart splintered, wondering when Bucky had decided your life was worth more than his. “He never told me that.”

Steve smiled, though it was aching. “I don’t doubt that. You never would have put up with it. Clearly.”

“You should have told him that oath was bullshit.” You were surprised then as Steve began to laugh and a tired smile tugged at the edges of your lips. It was an awful thing to ask of someone – to prioritize one life over another. But you knew, on some level beyond what you were willing to admit, that you would have done the same if you were in his position. You’d do a lot worse if it meant keeping Bucky safe.

You already turned your back on SHIELD and disobeyed a direct order by going after him. You didn’t know what would await you when you returned or if you’d still have a home at the compound after what you’d done, but you’d have Bucky safe in your arms again and that was all that mattered. Besides, maybe having Captain America on your side will soften the blow of your misconduct. The suits weren’t as willing to put their poster boy in cuffs as they were with you.

The jet was flying steady through the clouds when the smile on Steve’s face began to fade, slowly sinking as he stared out into the sea of pale blue. He glanced over at you then, his gaze lingering on the bandage over your forehead.

“You were shot in the head, Y/n,” Steve finally said, an awful weight pulling on his voice. Before you could argue it was only a graze, that it had barely caused any significant damage, Steve gave you a look that silenced the words on your tongue. “You were bleeding bad. You could hardly stand up straight by the time Nat and I found you. You were in no condition to do anything for him. You would have passed out before you could reach him, and then what? Hydra had both of you? How is that any better? How would that have helped him?”

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, knowing he was right and hating the resignation of it burning through your chest. “I made him a promise too, Steve. I swore I wouldn’t let anyone use that chamber against him, that he’d never be trapped like that ever again. I— failed him, Steve. I left him there... all alone and—and...”

“No,” Steve argued, his grip on the yoke tightening. “Bucky knew what would happen and he begged me to get you out of there anyway. He knew what he was risking by staying behind.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you fought against the lump in your throat. It was too much – the thought of Bucky willingly stepping foot into his nightmares if only to ensure you survived. This wonderful man who dared to question his own worth was beyond anything you could ever deserve. Your heart ached for him.

Steve gently reached out and brushed the fallen tears with the sleeve of his jacket, the rough material scratching your skin. He offered you a sad smile.

“Bucky also knew you’d move heaven and earth to get back to him,” Steve added, certainty clear in his voice. “And we will, okay? We’ll bring him home.”

You nodded, sinking back into your chair. The sky resembled the soft fragments of pale blue you knew so well – the lighter shades of Bucky’s eyes. You brushed the wetness from your cheeks.

***

Once you landed, Steve wordlessly handed you a com. You took it without question and fitted it into your ear, adjusting the device until it settled comfortably.

“Welcome back, kids,” Natasha’s voice purred through the coms. Your eyes shot to Steve, who gave you an amused smirk in return. “Hope you didn’t think we’d let you disobey direct orders and infiltrate a Hydra base on your own.”

“I’ve gotten in enough trouble over metal man already,” Sam chuckled. “What’s another strike on the record?”

You clenched your jaw enough to ache, trying to stop the sudden swell of emotion at the sound of their voices. You could picture Sam leaning over the edge of Natasha’s desk, the two of them huddled around a computer screen in the dark of a locked room they’d commandeered back at the compound.

You weren’t alone in this. Bucky wasn’t alone in this.

You looked at Steve, eyes glistening with tears, and he set a warm hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

You and Steve loaded up with as many weapons as you could strap to your suits without impacting your range of movement. A quiet calm swept through the jet with every click and latch of a holster. You could spot the Hydra base through the break in the trees – a simple, concrete frame that looked like it could have been decades abandoned.

You kept both hands on your weapon as you walked down the open ramp of the jet, your grip aching against the metal.

“Nat’s keeping an eye on us through the security cameras,” Steve explained as you approached the edge of the base. He gestured to the cameras hidden under the paneling of the roof. “And Sam’s—”

A buzzing sound zipped around you – a blur of silver and red as it flew up above the base and shot a single electric pulse. The drone hovered for a moment, waiting patiently, and then a body tumbled off the edge of the roof. You grinned as it flew back down to meet you.

“Nice work, Sam,” you said, looking right into the camera.

“His name is Redwing,” Sam reminded you, the familiar influx of pride swelling in his voice. You could almost see Natasha roll her eyes beside him as he puffed out his chest.

“Well Redwing can keep watch out here,” Steve ordered, amusement lost from his voice as he looked to the entrance of the Hydra base. A soft chime followed as Natasha must have hacked the security system to unlock the door. The light by the knob shifted from red to green.

You shared a single look with Steve before he pulled open the door and you fired your first shot. The first man went down before he had even glanced to your direction.

One after the other, falling in short precision before a finger could so much as grace the trigger of their guns. Steve barely had the opportunity to fire a shot himself as you channeled every ounce of the boiling rage searing under your skin into the men who had dared to take Bucky from you. And when that wasn’t enough – when the bullets emptied from the chambers – you left the firearms to the tile and drew your blades.

It was more personal this way.

“So you’ve returned for round two?” a voice seethed ahead, the full shine of a gold tooth reflecting under florescent lights. His lower lip was busted, his right eye swollen and bruised. You did not miss the way his gaze flickered to the bandage running over your forehead – evidence of the shot he nearly ended your life with. A sickening grin curved at the edges of his lips.

“I will enjoy this, princess.” The guard cracked out his knuckles, twisting his neck to one side and the other, readying himself for a fight. He was looking for a rematch – for redemption. Or perhaps, to fuel his pathetic ego from the concussion you’d given him at your last encounter.

But you were in no mood for games.

Without dropping your stare, you flung one of your daggers across the hall with as much force as you could muster. The golden toothed guard didn’t seem to realize he’d been struck with the knife until the momentum shifted his balance. His sinister smile fell as he looked down at the blade embedded in his chest. Shaking hands hovered over the hilt. Then, slowly, he looked up to you as if you might offer him mercy.

You threw the second dagger instead. This time, you struck his heart.

You said nothing as he dropped to his knees and then to his side as blood began to seep from the wounds. He was dead by the time you crossed the hall and bent to retrieve your weapons. It took some effort to yank the blades from the guard’s body.

“Y/n,” Steve called, pausing at the threshold of an open room. His shoulders were stiff, his stance rigid. “Over here.”

Your heart threatened to tear through your ribs as you followed him into the room. A trail of blood still laid upon the floor, scuffle marks obscuring the droplets from where Steve had dragged you away – your heels digging for purchase in the solid ground.

It took nearly all your effort to draw your eyes to the center of the room – to the cryochamber. A low hum sung from the series of computers attached to the machine; the effort exerting from maintaining the freezing temperatures that once sustained Bucky’s body for decades. Steve was speaking into the coms behind you though you could not discern a word of what he said, not as you slowly approached the chamber – locked upon it as if you were drawn in a trance.

A shaken hand lifted to the small window. You couldn’t see beyond the glass – not with the fog of frost and ice obscuring your view – but you knew he was there. The glass was frozen under your fingertips, enough that the sensation startled you enough to flinch as you touched it.

“We’ll have to move fast,” Steve ordered, his voice coming in clearer now as he came up beside you. “Hydra reinforcements will be on us any minute.”

You nodded, trying to still the rapid trembling in your hands as Steve rushed to the control panels. He began pulling at wires and pressing buttons seemingly at random until the distant humming began to fade and the cool blast of air disconnected from the chamber.

Steve swiped at the dark green button in the top left corner of the panel and a latch suddenly unlocked. You lunged for the chamber’s door, propping your foot against the wall to leverage your weight enough to lift it open.

It was like stepping out into a winter storm as the door swung open. Blistering wind rushed out at you, forcing you to shield your eyes. When it passed only seconds later, you lowered your forearm to find ice adhered to the fabric of your suit – the small droplets of your opponents’ blood now frozen in crystalized red.

You understood then why Bucky had such horrific nightmares of this chamber. His skin was an awful shade of blue – his lips purple and chapped. Ice clung to his hair where it had once been dampened with sweat. His chest did not rise. His eyes did not flutter open. He looked... dead.

You reached out to touch his face, fingertips brushing over the ice crystals on the short bristles of his beard. A sob nearly broke you before Steve set a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve got him,” he eased, guiding you away from the chamber. You stepped back carefully, folding your arms around yourself and sank into the swell of relief as Steve was the one to shoulder Bucky’s weight and pull him from his casket. He hissed at the contact, as if the chill of Bucky’s skin was burning him. Steve’s neck and hands were turning bright red where he held contact to him.

“Sam and I will have medical ready for you when you return,” Natasha’s reassuring voice came through the coms as you led Steve and Bucky through the empty hallways. You kept Steve’s gun raised, though you met no enemies as you inched towards the exit. It was an effort not to trip over the series of bodies laid over the floors. You tried not to look at the pools of blood sticking under your boots.

“And Fury?” Steve questioned; his breathing labored.

“Let me worry about him,” Nat replied without missing a beat.

“Hell, I’m half convinced this was his plan all along,” Sam chuckled. Part of you might have wondered whether he was right if you had any energy left to do anything but hold a hand to the trigger and guide a careful path away from the Hydra base.

Something had to go wrong. It always went wrong.

But somehow, you made it back to the jet without interference.

Steve quickly released Bucky and gently laid him on the soft mats near the cargo hold and rushed to the cockpit. He threw the pilot’s headphones over his ears and fired on the engines before you even closed the ramp to the jet.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Natasha called through the coms.

You sank to your knees at Bucky’s side, hands hovering over his chilled skin; scared that a single touch might shatter him.

“Yeah,” you replied though it was barely audible.

“It’s just us on here right now,” she told you, a softness to her voice. “You did good, okay? But the work’s not over. Coming out of cryo won’t be kind on his body. Even with the serum he’s at risk for hypothermia. You’re going to need to—”

“I know,” you whispered, nodding though she could not see you. You’d done it enough times, spend enough nights curled around him to draw the warmth back to his body. It had never been like this – his body so lost to the cold that his chest did not rise on his shallow breaths. He wasn’t even shivering.

“We’ll see you on base,” Natasha said in way of goodbye.

Your hands trembled over the zipper of Bucky’s jacket as the jet lifted from the patch of green in the woods behind the Hydra base. You fumbled with it, cursing at your fingers for slipping their grip. It wouldn’t budge no matter how hard you tugged on it. The damn thing was frozen solid. Tears slipped over your cheeks as you pulled back, wincing at the frozen burn marks on your fingertips.

Skin to skin wasn’t an option – not with his clothes frozen onto him like this. But you could still manage, you could still give him some layer of heat; any of it, all of it. You laid down to the floor beside him, draped against his right side. You slid a leg between his and laid your arm over his chest, your palm setting gently against his cheek.

You drew in a shaken breath at the iciness of his skin, but you did not pull away from him. Your thumb slid along his cheekbone, your hand stinging under the cold. Still, you curled against him the best you could. Even as the jet flew soundlessly above the trees and Steve glanced back at you over his shoulder, you did not dare to put space between you and Bucky.

By the time you landed back on back, you were shaking. Steve had to pry you from Bucky’s body; your skin numb and flushed from the cold. The ice crystals had melted from Bucky’s hair and skin, a pool of water under him. You clung to Steve as you watched the medical team quickly board the jet and drag Bucky away. It was like you were paralyzed – frozen – as they carried him from you. Steve set a steadying hand on your back.

Natasha was standing at Fury’s side as Steve gently led you down the ramp, following behind the med team. You glanced over at the director, expecting to find his namesake carved into the lines of his face. But instead, his hands were clasped behind his back, his long signature coat swaying in the wind of the landing bay, and he gave you a short nod.

Perhaps Sam was right.

***

You’d forgotten about the taser burns.

Standing in the far corner of the room, you struggled to catch your breath as the nursed gingerly removed Bucky’s tactical suit – cutting a clean line down the center with scissors when the zipper broke like shards of glass at their attempt to grasp it. Pealing the fabric from his body, you’d expected to see the slight tint of red on his skin – the blood rushing to the surface to warm his body now that the blue tint had dissipated. You’d expected the scars you knew well – scars you’d kissed and brushed loving fingertips over the evenings he looked at them with disgust.

But you’d forgotten the burns.

Two vicious red marks on his ribs. Another set just below his collarbone upon his chest – frighteningly close to his heart. Soft pink marks crept like spider veins away from the burns. Almost like lightning, you realized. The intensity of the tasers carried enough voltage to kill any other man – to kill even a large animal. His burn marks resembled lightning.

Just as the nurses tucked Bucky under the clean sheets, you stepped forward. “Why hasn’t he woken up yet?”

You hated how small you sounded. How afraid. But the nurse offered you a warm smile and gestured towards the door. You followed her, armed folded tight over your chest. You left puddles of cold water in your wake.

“He will,” she told you reassuringly. “Give him some time. The serum will do the work for him. It always has.”

You nodded, brushing away a stray tear before she could notice. When she left, the room was achingly silent. Steve had promised to check in on Bucky after he debriefed Fury and settled the council before they threatened to banish you from the compound. It wasn’t a job you cared to handle right now, not with the chance of Bucky waking without you and still believing he was at the Hydra base. You would not be leaving his side until he woke up. You didn’t care if Fury or his superiors tried to throw you in the Raft and toss the key to the ocean. You weren’t going anywhere.

As you approached Bucky’s bedside, you began to peel away layers of your suit. If you let yourself believe it, you might imagine you were in the comfort of your shared bedroom, the stars still coating the night sky, the window left open overnight. Bucky was only sleeping. It was only a mere chill from the draft trembling his body. Nothing more.

Wordlessly, you slipped under the covers with him, gasping at the still frigid touch of his skin. It wasn’t nearly as bad as when he was on the jet, but there was no barrier between you anymore. Dressed only in your undergarments, you pressed as much of your body against Bucky as you could manage.

Body heat, you remembered, was the fastest way to warm him. You could pile blankets on top of him until the weight sunk his body into the mattress, but it would be nothing in comparison to the heat radiating from your skin as you curled up against him. Even when goosebumps lined your forearms and you shivered against him, your body would guide him home. Your warmth would protect him from the cold.

You didn’t know how long you laid there with him. Long enough for Steve to come by after he was likely berated by the council, though he didn’t stay long. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he looked over his friend, noting the slight flush of pink that returned to Bucky’s cheeks. He promised he would return in a few hours with something for you to eat. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

***

The sun disappeared behind the tree line, leaving only the soft neon glow of the heart monitor charting Bucky’s pulse to illuminate the room. You didn’t attempt to pick at the pasta Steve brought you or move around the noodles to make it look like you’d even tried to swallow a bite. You didn’t have the energy for it.

Bucky’s body had returned to the comforting furnace you knew him to be – warm and strong, steady. But he hadn’t woken. Steve speculated it could be the sedatives Hydra gave him before putting him under. They'd expected him to be under a lot longer than he was. You and Steve were the ones to interrupt that cycle. Perhaps he only needed to shed the sedatives from his system.

It took nearly seven hours since arriving back at the compound before you felt Bucky’s hand twitch.

You gasped, flinching at the sudden sensation. His hand was rested between yours, curled up against your chest as you held his arm as if he were a childhood teddy bear. His fingers flexed in your grip as you carefully observed the movement. A slight groan came from his lips next, and your eyes darted up to his face.

“Bucky?” you whispered, releasing his hand gently to draw your fingertips gingerly over his jawline.

He groaned again, his whole body shifting uncomfortably.

Before you could get his name out again, his eyes shot open. A rapid breath expanded his lungs as if he had just broken the surface after hours underwater. His eyes darted around the room, trying to place where he was and you felt his whole body begin to tense.

“Bucky,” you called again, your voice barely a whisper to avoid startling him. He flinched anyway. “Bucky, you’re okay. You’re home, sweetheart. You’re safe.”

He blinked a few times, the black in his pupils beginning to ease in favor of the blue you adored. He looked at you then, the realization coming back to him. It was as if you could see the memories spinning behind his eyes, the slow recollection of what transpired over the last twenty-four hours: how he’d nearly lost you, the chamber he was forced into after you promised him it would never happen again, the ice that had suspended him in time.

You’d failed him. You knew that. Shame crept into your skin the longer he looked at you. You expected him to be angry, to be resentful of a promise you had no right to make. But instead, he brushed his fingertips over the bandage on your forehead, a frown tugging on the corners of his lips.

“You’re hurt.”

His voice was raspy as he spoke. It brought tears to your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, but Bucky’s eyes narrowed on you.

“You were shot,” he said, as if the memory was only now coming back to him. “An inch to the left and that bullet would have killed you.”

You swallowed, though your throat was dry. “It didn’t.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, unable to look away from the bandage. It had happened because you fought back, because you could not simply watch as they forced Bucky into that chamber. You didn’t care that you had a gun to your head or that the Hydra agent behind you had the clear advantage. You didn’t care because Bucky was doing what they told him to do simply because he hoped they would spare your life. He was walking towards the chamber, toward his nightmares, and you couldn’t stand it.

You’d do it again.

But you didn’t dare tell Bucky that.

It was your fault he’d even stepped foot toward that damn chamber in the first place. Your fault he went willingly. Your fault that you left him behind to the very same horrors that plagued his dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

His nightmares will only get worse now. After all he’d been through, after all the hard work he put in with his therapist, you retraumatized him again. You were the reason he was forced to relive the worst parts of his time under Hydra’s thumb. He may be holding you now, but you knew – you knew – he would not be able to untether that thread, that he’d forever associate you with the promise you’d broken.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Bucky warned though his voice was gentle. He tugged you tighter against his side, the heat radiating off his body now enough to bring sweat to the nape of your neck and still, you’d never be close enough. He'd never be warm enough. Not after what happened.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, unable to stop the well of tears from consuming you entirely. You buried your face in the corner of Bucky’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Bucky. I— I failed you. I swore to you I’d never let them hurt you again. I promised I wouldn’t let them take you and I— I left you there and—”

“Sweetheart, stop,” Bucky said again, more urgency to his voice now. The ends of his fingertips curled under your chin, gently lifting you to face him. There was only remorse in his gaze, only love and affection. “I knew Steve would have to drag you out of there. I knew you’d keep fighting for me, even if it meant going down yourself. I saw the blood on your face. I knew you were close to passing out. I begged him to get you out of there for a reason, honey.”

You shook your head, tears slipped past your cheeks. “But I—”

“You didn’t leave me behind,” Bucky insisted. “You didn’t do this to me. Hydra did. Don’t ask me to blame you for what they’ve done.”

Your lips parted in search of an argument, but you couldn’t find one. The softest smile pressed on the edges of Bucky’s lips.

“Besides,” he sighed, his mouth ghosting over your temple as he kissed you, “you came back for me. I knew you would.”

He kissed your forehead next, allowing himself to linger there. You closed your eyes under the feel of him, tears slipping past your cheeks as the warm comfort of his lips.

“I know you’d come for me,” he said again, with enough conviction that your heart began to settle into rhythm with his. Steady beats, mirroring one another – perfectly in time.

“I could still be fired,” you mumbled as you wiped the tears from your eyes, “or arrested. Depends on how good of a defense Steve pitched.”

Bucky chuckled and you could feel the vibration of it in his chest. It was your favorite feeling in the world.

“Steve isn’t one for following the rules of his superiors, so I think you’ll be okay,” he said. “Hard to argue against a successful mission.”

You offered him as much of a smile as you could muster. Bucky traced his thumb over your lower lip, as if to mark the shape to permanence.

“Besides, I won’t let them take you from me,” Bucky added, a cheeky grin stealing the darkness from his eyes, stealing the fear and panic that had once burrowed into the soft shades of blue. “I promise.”

A heaviness sank in your gaze, your smile slipping from you despite Bucky’s protest. “Perhaps we shouldn’t make promises like that anymore.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment, but you could feel his grip on you tightening, pulling you tighter against his chest. “How about a different one then?”

His fingertips settled under your chin, drawing your gaze back to his. You were met with nothing but the warm, gentle affection you’d always known in him.

“How about we promise to find each other?” he offered instead. “No matter what happens, no matter what tries to separate us... We will come for one another. Always.”

Tears swelled in your eyes. “Always.”

As always - thank you so much for reading and for all your kind words ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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newfallstrangeleaves · 8 months

Text

Yandere in the apocalypse

Diving in deep

M!Yandere X F!Reader

Warning: Mentions of both voyeurism and masturbation, there is also stalking, murder and a lot of jealousy.

Summary: While watching you bathing in the lake he slips and accidentally (almost) exposes himself.

He would be hands down horny for you all the time. There was one time that always slips into his mind whenever he allows himself a moment to jack off. His mind keeps going back to that moment, thinking about the curve of your body, the swell of your ass and breasts.

And that moment is the day you and the girls took a well-overdue bath in the lake. It was a hot day and everyone was sweating bullets. The rays of the sun keep everything still and quiet in the shades. The only sounds that could be heard were the laughter and the joyful splashing of water.

Aaron back up in a tree, is watching contently. His leg is still hurting and he has half a mind to cause some trouble to the group. Stir things up. But not today. Today he wants to focus on you. Though half of him would have seen you without the shielding fabric of your bra and panties and the other half is happy that you do wear it. He can tell how some of the guys glance your way—especially one of them.

Xavier.

Fuck what an obnoxious name for an obnoxious guy. He has been taking charge for some time now. Bossing the group around and making bad decisions. Though he seems to be well-liked by your group, they would never be able to survive in these conditions without someone to tell them what to do. Sheep.

You too seem to like him. But you're an exception. Where the others are sheep you are a devoter. Through your actions, you show appreciation for your leader. No matter who, and in different circumstances, you would realize the flaws that Xavier possesses and who would be truly devoted to you, care for you and protect you.

Aaron constantly shifts his position. Things ache and chafe but it's worth it. He can pull through another hour if it means to get the first parquet to the show. You and your friends laugh and play for another half an hour until things start to die down. People keep to themself, wash up and get ready to get on with the day.

But you're not really ready yet. You get one of the towels that the group had brought on for the swim, wrap it around you and walk back out into the water. Only letting the cool water wrap around your ankles.

You walk along the shore, finding peace in the moment. Aaron too finds peace for once. Imagine a life just the two of you, how he’ll make you a cottage by a lake just like this, or the sea. Whatever you prefer. He would return home after ‘hunting’ all day to find you've made him a nice meal and after that, the two of you wouldn't leave each other's side all night.

But then you walk out of sight. As you walk further and further away the branches get in the way. Desperate for just a few more minutes of observing you, he makes the crucial mistake of leaning on the wrong branch. Before he has time to react it snaps and he heads for the forest floor.

There is no time to be hurt now. He can hear concerned voices growing closer. He gets up and doesn't even look back before he jogs as fast as he can with his limp through the forest.

“HEY!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is not how he wanted to introduce himself to you. Being the creep spying on you while you bathe? Hell no.

“HEY YOU! STOP!”

So despite the pain, the old wounds and the new all of which have to wait. Luckily the forest grows a lot denser here, making whoever is pursuing him slow down.

“HEEY!”

It's a man. By the sound of the footsteps, it's only him.

He is getting closer and closer, a fight might be the only solution. But with both a weaker physique and the wounds from the fall, he is the underdog. He won't be even close to taking Xavier in a real fight.

So he keeps limping forward. The sharp branches whipped his face.

Until he can practically feel his presence closing in. And he knows even before he grabs hold of Aaron's arm that he does. He janks it back and Aaron wips around before he falls over, sticks and pine cones cutting into his back.

“Okey…” Xavier fights to catch his breath. “Listen, I'm not here to hurt you, just talk.” He holds his hands up and smiles, trying hard to look peaceful.

The sentence makes his blood immediately boil. How can he be so passive? Had Aaron not just been spying on them? Is he not considered a big enough threat? How can he tell from this single encounter?

Yeah, he had just clumseöy fall down from a tree and yes, he was recently shot and had been limping away as fast as he could.

But had it been any other time he could have taken him.

He has been spying on them for weeks, memorizing everything about these people. All in the name of being one step ahead of them at all times. All their weaknesses and strengths. None of that was for nothing.

So it's here it clicks. He knows what he has to do.

“I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to…I didn't know how to approach.”

“It's okay brother. I know what it's like out there, we are all just trying to keep ourselves safe and if you were checking us out to see if we are decent then that's fine. Totally okay and hey, I'm sure there are no hard feelings amongst the others.” Xaviers smile makes him want to vomit.

“You think so?” He makes sure his tone sounds more weak than the disgust he is feeling within.

“I know it! Here, what's your name?” Xavier holds out his hand to help him up. Aaron takes his hand and seizes the opportunity to attack. As Aaron gets on his feet he grabs hold of Xaviers arm. In one swift motion, Aaron takes out his pocket knife and stabs it in his side. Still holding Xaviers right hand he has no way of defending himself. He stabs him multiple times before Xavier falls down wailing in pain.

“Names Aaron.” He says through gritted teeth. “And just so you know, this is not the first time I've been watching your little group, in fact, I've been creeping around after you guys for weeks. This is my real first time fuck up, but there have been other times when you could have spotted me but didn't. Just another added reason why you're not cut out for this.”

“You're insane!”

“Am I? I could have killed you just now, but I didn't. Not just yet at least. I wanted to tell you something before I do. Y/N is who I'm here for, the only one I care about and I am going to kill anyone who stands in my way.” Xavier desperately tries to crawl away as Aaron couches down beside him but to no use. Aaron grabs a good chunk of hair to hold him in place, the blood loss weakening him by the moment.

“Staring here, with you.”

With a swift motion of the knife to his throat their conversation comes to an end. There is a gurgling sound before quiet fills the forest. Aaron wipes off the knife as he hears Xaviers' names being called in the distance. It's not long until they are here.

In the following weeks, things started to look up for him. None of the members had been able to get a good look at who the mystic man in the trees where so Xaviers murderer stays a mystery. Next, his wounds are looking better each day. Though your group can only be described as mourning Aaron has never felt so liberated before. Taking out competition always feels nice. However, the only negative part of this is that you seem much sadder than usual. Despite the reason behind it Aaron can't other than want to comfort you, hug you and tell you to forget him. Take him into your heart instead.

#male yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere male #yandere x reader #tw yandere #post apocalyptic #yandere oc

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estrellami-1 · 8 months

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If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

After sandwiches, Nancy turns to El. “Could you look for Barb again?”

El sets her mouth and nods. She glances at Steve, who also nods and moves to set up the living room again.

Eddie follows him in and picks up the blindfold. Steve doesn’t try to hide his smirk. “You’ve got questions, I’m guessing?”

Eddie shrugs, leans against the couch. Watches the fabric as he pulls it through his fingers. Right hand, left hand. Right, left. “Mostly thinking I was wrong about you. Even more than I initially thought.”

Steve smiles. “We never got to have this conversation in the future, but I do know what your bandana means.” He stops for a second, watches Eddie’s hands. Right, left. “I’m offering… not an olive branch, per se, but…”

“An invitation?” Right, left.

“Exactly.” He shrugs. “If there’s anything you want to know…” he trails off, lets it hang in the air.

Eddie smiles. “Just one thing.” He holds it up in his left hand. “Who d’you use it on?”

Steve grins and turns away, looking for the remote. “Myself.” His smile falls. “Or- I did. You heard about the Russians, right?”

Eddie steps up beside him. Offers him the blindfold. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

Steve shrugs. “I’d say if I could go back in time, but…” he gestures around with a grin, letting it widen when Eddie chuckles. “Turns out going back in time does nothing for the memories I already have.”

Eddie frowns. “Kinda fucked up, isn’t it? Your body reverted back to its sixteen-year-old self, but your brain is still twenty.”

“I mean, imagine me coming to school one day looking like this, and the next I come in with scars, looking half a decade older. People would talk.”

Eddie hums. “You’re probably right. Still, it can’t be easy, having those mental reminders with none of the physical.”

Steve grins at him. “Did you miss the part where I don’t have concussions?”

Eddie snorts. “Fair enough. Still, I bet the scars looked badass.”

“Very metal,” Steve agrees. “Y’know, if you’d survived? We woulda had matching scars.” He trails a hand down his side. “The bats ripped us both open. Woulda gotten me if you, Robin and Nance hadn’t gotten there when you did. You took on a bat with nothing but an oar from a rowboat.” He turns to look at Eddie. “You told me once, how you’re a coward. How you run.” He shakes his head, looks away. “You didn’t. Not when it mattered. And you won’t this time.”

“Maybe this time we’ll have matching not-scars,” Eddie says, then points at Steve. “And no concussions.”

“And no concussions,” Steve parrots, laughing. “If we have to deal with the Russians again, though? I’m definitely doing something different.”

“We,” Eddie murmurs, shrugging when Steve looks at him. “We’ll do something different. You think any of these kids are gonna leave you alone after this? You think Eleven will leave you alone?”

“I hope not,” Steve answers honestly. “And you? You’re staying?”

Eddie shrugs again. “You said I didn’t run when it mattered. Who’s to say this doesn’t matter just as much? I’m not running.”

Steve smiles softly at him. “You’re a good man, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie levels him with a look. “I sell weed, Steve.”

Steve snorts. “I’m well aware, dude, I’ve bought from you before. If all goes well, I’m planning on buying another.”

Eddie laughs. “Hell, man, if it all goes well, I’ll give it to you, free of charge.”

Steve winks. “I’ll hold you to it,” he says, then leaves Eddie to process while he goes to get El.

Of course wherever El goes, Mike’s not far behind, which means he, Dustin and Lucas follow, and of course Nancy follows, and since everyone else is already in there, Jonathan and Robin follow too, so they all end up crammed in the living room again, with bated breaths and tightly-held hands, as El settles in front of the TV and puts the blindfold on.

Finally, she speaks. “I see her. She is alive.”

Nancy slumps into the couch and lets out a breath.

Then El speaks again. “She does not have very long.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual Steddie #slow burn #time travel fic #fix it fic #sorry not sorry for the ending #Steve: you’re a good man #Eddie: I sell weed #that interaction cracks me up even though I wrote it #starambles

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2aceofspades · 5 months

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The wrong fabricated time branch

I'm still very rusty with colors gah-

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #bad future rottmnt #rottmnt casey jr #f!leo #f!mikey #wrong fabricated time branch #it started as a loose sketch of leo and um...this happened so..#:)

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system-to-the-madness · 1 month

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Cherry Blossom Confessions 🌸 Okkotsu Yūta x Reader

Pairing: Okkotsu Yūta x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 423 Summary: Yūta spills a well-kept secret Prompt: accidental confession A/N: Firs time writing for Yūta! Also, I wanted to post these stories in time with the local cherry blossom, but it keeps delaying because the weather was too cold (on Wednesday it snowed even). I’m just gonna start posting and hope the cherry blossom will eventually catch up with me.

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

Pink petals drifted through the air, looking like snowflakes in the warm afternoon light. It was only late March, but the sun had already gained back a lot of its power after the colder winter months, making you smile contently to yourself as you closed your eyes and held your face into the sun, trying not to let yourself be distracted by the person at your side.

Yūta was, for once, out of his school uniform, and instead dressed in an oversized shirt and some wide jeans which made his slim figure seem to drown in fabric. But it looked good, unfairly good even. You could tell he was fiddling around with his necklace, even without looking at him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he seemed nervous.

“What’s wrong,” you asked eventually, unable to take his fidgeting any longer.

You had known him for a good while, and his behaviour now was more like he had been when you had first met him. Back then he had been jumpy and shy, always expecting the worst of people. But as he had settled more into the life at Jujutsu High, the shy and easily scared boy had turned into the open-hearted, funny, and fiercely loyal friend you had gotten so attached to.

“Nothing,” Yūta’s answer came almost too quickly, making you raise your brows before you blinked open your eyes and turned to look at him.

He had cut his hair a little since winter, the formerly long strands having been trimmed into a new haircut, which made him look gentler than the rather harsh look he had been sporting before. His grey eyes met yours defiantly, as if he was challenging you to question his reply, but you didn’t do him the favour. Instead, you continued watching his face.

Recently he had started getting cute freckles over his nose that now started to turn a darker shade as he blushed under your inquisitive gaze. You wondered if he could tell your own cheeks were heating up, too.

“Anyway,” you shrugged, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing back on the pink petals of the cherry trees you were sitting under.

Silence engulfed you for a while, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was the good or the bad kind. You also didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Which was weird, considering you never had any problems of engaging in conversation with Yūta. You always found things to talk about, to joke about, even if it was only Gojo-sensei’s latest shenanigans. But somehow it suddenly felt as if this silence was important, as if it were the preparation for whatever was to come next. What a strange sentiment…

“You’re beautiful.”

Confused you turned to Yūta, who was still watching you, his eyes widening as you met his surprised. He had never said anything like that before, usually his compliments were limited to your fighting in training or during missions.

Quickly you looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“Uhm, thanks…” you trailed off. Certainly he had to pick up on your embarrassment now, right? Your warm cheeks, the way you subconsciously had started playing with a blade of grass underneath your hand… you quickly pulled your hand away and intertwined it with the fingers of your other hand to stop the motion.

“Did I say that out loud,” Yūta wondered, a hint of amusement, but also embarrassment in his voice.

“Yeah, …”

He chuckled, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. He had averted his eyes, and instead was staring up at the branches over you as he was chewing on his lip, clearly thinking hard about something. Suddenly he snapped his head back at you, almost startling you with the sudden motion, but it was obvious he had come to the conclusion of whatever he had thought over.

“I don’t tell you enough. Actually, I think I’ve never told you, but I always think you’re beautiful,” he confessed, his voice lacking any of the embarrassment from before and instead sounding determined now.

“Careful,” you chuckled nervously, “what will Rika think?”

Rika. Probably the biggest reason why you had never dared thinking of Yūta as anything other than a friend. You didn’t exactly feel like getting into a fight with a special grade curse over your classmate.

“Oh, she knows I think you’re beautiful,” Yūta shrugged, his voice returning to the more relaxed tone you usually knew from him.

“Does she?

“Yes, of course she does. I talk to her about you all the time.”

You furrowed your brows and turned back to look at Yūta. He had leant back, hands propped behind him against the grass, eyes closed. Black lashes rested against his pale, lightly freckled skin, and shadows of the cherry blossom danced softly over his features. He looked like an angel, you thought, or like the protagonist in some rom-com.

“You talk to her about me?” You hated how small your voice suddenly sounded.

“It’s not so strange, is it,” Yūta asked, his eyes still closed as he let the shadows slip over his face. “I have to talk to someone who won’t judge me. And Inumaki just keeps insisting I should finally confess to you. I can’t hear it anymore.”

You blinked, once, twice, wondering if Yūta was aware of what he had just said. And then you wondered if what he had just said meant what you think it meant.

“Confess what?”

The way Yūta tensed up revealed that he had not been aware of what he had just said. His eyes snapped open and quickly he sat up.

“I-”

The way he looked at you now, with widened eyes, and clearly insecure reminded you painfully much of the way he had looked at you in the first weeks of knowing you, always scared he had or was about to say something wrong, always worried you’d laugh at him, attack him, make fun of him or were out to hurt him.

“I- I didn’t…” His eyes kept skipping over your face as if the words he was supposed to reply with were writing in your features. After a few moments of stuttering around, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Confess that I like you,” he blurted out. “And have liked you for a long time. I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want to put you in the weird position of rejecting someone who-”

“Yūta, Yūta!”

You interrupted the ramble he was picking up, instinctively bringing your hand up to his cheek. He still had his eyes closed, but instantly relaxed into your palm.

“Relax, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I like you, too.”

It took him a moment, but then the rest of the tension in his body fell away, and he blinked his eyes open.

“You do?”

The hope in his voice tucked at your heart and you nodded with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I do, you idiot. How couldn’t I?”

Yūta blinked at you, clearly surprised by your answer and uncertain what to do next. It took a few moments before the confused expression in his eyes melted away and was replaced by the joyous glimmer you loved seeing in his eyes so much.

“Then go out with me,” he demanded, a smile beginning to tuck at his lips, which turned into a proper grin as you nodded in agreement.

You were about to pull your hand away from his face, but he caught it in his, and keeping your eyes fixed on yours, he lifted your hand to his lips to place a delicate but lingering kiss on your knuckles, never breaking eye contact. The action drove heat into your cheeks, which only seemed to raise his confidence as he carefully lowered your hand and scooted closer to you.

“How about,” he leant in, his face right in front of yours now, “how about I take you out for dinner after this.”

You smiled at his suggestion and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Perfect,” Yūta nodded to himself.

Then he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you backwards until you were laying in the grass, squeezed against him, looking up at the blue sky above you through the pink petals of the cherry tree. Suddenly he groaned, making you raise your eyebrows at him again even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Inumaki will be so pissed that he didn’t get to come up the ultimate confession-plan.”

@delzinrowe

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astralnymphh · 5 months

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⤹ okay but on the topic of vampire!ellie, which one do you guys personally like?? has nothing to do with what i'll write next, just a curiosity + headcanons. MDNI 18+ enjoy this free vamp!ellie brainstorming content with a random side of nipple fixation!

¨༺ ♱ ༻¨

teenage dirtbag vampire!ellie in a modern realm who can't stand being in her parents suburban hell born house, tired of their cockalorum and urging for her to engage more in the vampiric branch of her family. attend the parties, go human–hunting with the other blood–ingesting addicts, try this, do that. it all irked ellie the wrong way, made her psyche boil, cause all she wanted to fucking do was you. she craves only your blood, your taste, the metallic ribbons pumping your lifeline was like a goddamn nectar to her. and you let her feed, because you loved her. you let your meat sack of a body replace her breakfast, lunch, dinner– first and final meal.

that's why you let her move in with you. cause you fucking can. now, every itty–bitty token of her life tangles with yours on the walls. pictures and awards, a manifold of knickknacks cluttering the window sills, even her clothes tend to blend with yours– an illusive invitation for you to wear her clothes without the question ever pressing her lips apart. you both are madly besotted in each other. no denial objects to that.

and, fuck, this version of ellie is hot. fitted tanks absent of a bra– pale brown pierced nipples erecting the thin fabric into a small mound. gray wash skinny jeans that fit her lean legs well, waistband cruising nicely under that peek of a v–line, fraying at the ankle hems that contrasts into those battered up converse of a similar hue. oh, and usually cloaks her shoulders up in a sable leather jacket– with your name patched in. a jacket, so prized, alwaaays winds up hurled to some isolated and cimmerian corner of your room, purely cause she lacks the care to hang it up whenever she returns home in a scramble, fangs unsheathing for blood. her knees would find themselves pressing hard into the mattress beneath both of you, centering a large gully of weight where her half–unzipped crotch and your butt meet, thirstily rutting to the point of numbing your clit through the hard denim of your pants. her zinc button just kept pounding that shit, keeping you spread wide. while dry humping you, she'd moan and groan hot on your earlobe, fangs partial hooking on the rim, "mhh– fuck n' suck, babe– can i? fuuck.." 'fuck n' suck' was just some made–up code for, well, it should be obvious. times like those, where she intends to fuck her pussy rough on you without remorse, whilst drying your organs of blood.

ohh, but i'll write that in detail one day~

gothic vampire!ellie who lodges high on a hill, deep in the mighty fathomage of her grandoise palace, steeples scaping high into the howling sky– torn asunder by a network of lightning above. you're nothing but meat and blood, princess, a feast inside regalia. every freshwater pearl, every satiny reflection of light off your dress, only made your flesh more supple in her fluorescent fern eyes. those lucifer–damned pupils though, well, let's just say you can't even measure the green pool of her eyes anymore. dilating, big black saucers, ballooning the milken white away whenever she snags a glimpse of your blood. that phantom heartbeat of hers races madly, mad of love for that color. for that glisten of liquid. so divine, she thinks. a gulp bolts down her gullet when within a measly foot of you, or, more specifically, a mere gate between the two of your noses. how else is she supposed to store her cache of sustenance?

yes, that's precisely what i'm hinting at. a holding cell. dusty and decrepit, rats abundant skittering the stone ground, and you swore cobwebs began to web themselves in your hair– now loose and unbraided. that brute of a girl would crouch on the opposing side, dangling keys on a loop sat upon her finger, ploddingly wagging like a swinging great axe. taunt, taunt taunt taunt.. is all she would skip about and do. slip into your cell quickly and play with you. kitty–cornering you and blocking you in her arms, cooing how terribly sorry she feigns to be, for jailing you up and treating you like meat. however, tides turn, and so do emotions. could it be, the dracula upon the misty cliff– has fallen in love?

turns out, witty princesses with a snakish tongue and spit to spare really turned her on. fuck, even you cursed yourself for rending your guard and feeling a magnetic pull to that hunk of a beast, clad in her midnight black, puffed sleeves and collar drawstring shirt. finely sewn black trousers and shiny black boots, curse you, for finding something about that hellishly horrid outfit so handsome on her. there's– oh, this particularly noticeable asset tp her garb as well. the black dye was nearing translucency, and if you loitered your vision directly on her chest long enough, caught in the right cosmic light, you could see that waxen bosom and her nipples, light brown contrary to her vampiric skin. haha, how humiliating it was when she caught you staring at them as she stood in front of your sat stature, being so brazen enough to ask, "something caught your eye princess? shall i strip myself of this, then?" whilst her hands mindlessly tucked under the loose hem anyway, wringing the fabric over her head and banishing it aside. "here, feel my dead heart–" swirled her voice, thrusting her hand out to grasp yours, cold as the ice age, her mitts froze your wrists and yanked them forth, pressing them flat against her breast and swiping her thumb across your contrasting warm skin, leavening with excitement as you fondle. she stows her knee on the bed adjacent to your thigh, whispering, so.. so, hauntingly, "feel that? no pulse, no life, not a spark lives within me, dear." and it was nothing vastly far from the truth. beneath her erect nipple, was no beat. eyes widening to a moon, and lips parting to steal simply too much air, you shudder. was it fear, you shuddered for, or arousal? that's a tale, for another day.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras thoughts #vampire!ellie #lesbian #sapphic #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou smut #ellie smut

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intothegenshinworld · 3 months

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Fate’s Destiny ~ Chapter 11 || Four people, one destiny

You somehow, not being able to explain it, had fallen into the Genshin world you know oh-so-well. You were no new player and had explored most of the nooks and crannies of the world. When you first had woken up in Windrise you wondered; it might be a dream, after all, you were behind your screen usually, and now- here? It made no sense, and the world was keen on keeping it that way.

Warnings: Spoilers for main story.

Word count: 2.7k+

Auteurs note: My health is worsening. This chapter has been prewritten and queued in advance because of it. I hope you can enjoy it

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A resounding crash jolts you from your slumber. It’s not a sound you’d expect to hear in the middle of the night, nor is it something you can pass on to your imagination, and so it plunges your mind into a primal fight-or-flight.

Without a second thought, your body jumps up from the sleeping bag, ready to combat the suspecting intruder. When the moment passes, you realize there never was one. Silence fills the night once more until you hear Lumine call your name, gentle concern lingering in her voice.

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness. A few meters ahead of camp, you see branches stacked in a pyramid formation, set ablaze to keep its company safe and warm. Around it, comfortably on the grass, sits Lumine. She faces camp, and although the shadows obscure her expression, her body is visibly relaxed.

“Are you alright,” Lumine’s voice, a mere whisper, breaks the night's silence. “Did you have a nightmare?”

You look around the area. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. The world is quiet aside from the occasional winds brushing against the ruins and trees. Even the nocturnal animals and insects seemed absent in this moment.

As you remain unsure of what had awoken you, the person next to Lumine causes concern. “Who is that?”

The stranger is facing away from you and towards the fire. He has to turn his upper body to look at you. Once he does, you‘re able to make out his blonde hair and dark clothes. Half of his face remains hidden—an eyepatch, maybe? And the only thing that stands out is his cape full of shimmering stars.

While an unsuspecting party member isn’t your favorite way of waking up, Lumine’s relaxed composure makes you feel safe. You move to sit upright more comfortably in the sleeping bag.

“I apologize if either of us stirred you.” Lumine turns her head to the stranger, gesturing at him. “We happened to run into each other and we decided to catch up.”

The stranger lightly nods his head in your direction, now turning around to properly face you. “My name is Dainsleif. We have met before.”

Your first memories in Windrise appear vividly in your mind. The soft zephyr brushing against your cheeks, the crystal butterflies, Dainsleif.

Then, in Mondstadt, another muddled memory. You recall talking with him, but the topic of conversation is no longer clear to you. He appears to be more focused this time. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips are pulled in a thin line, leaving you to guess how he felt at that moment.

Another memory breaks free. You remember the cape on his shoulders, and trying to dip your hands into the fabric, wanting to break the stars free. You recall how safe it made you feel when the world started to turn dark, unlike the night, and more like nothingness.

Dainsleif turns his head away from you. With his new position, you only see the back of his head and the black side of his cape. Your mind leaps from side to side, making sense out of nothing and confusing the things that once made sense. Up is down, down is up, under is right, up is wrong.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“Who?”

Lumine turns her head to the male next to her. She lifts her shoulders before they fall again. The night hides her face but you notice the change in her expression. She normally seems so neutral, calm, and put-together—but now her eyes seem to scream at you.

You hear the male, Dainsleif–why is that name so familiar—whisper something before Lumine replies in the same hushed manner. Then, the stranger stands up. Without a goodbye, the mysterious man walks away. The further he goes, the more he blends in with the darkness of the night.

You look at Lumine.

Her voice is gentle as ever, “Try to get some more sleep,” but her eyes scream louder and louder. Something is telling you to run. “I’ll protect you throughout the night,” she says.

You move your eyes towards the darkness once more.

What had awoken you again?

You decided to listen to Lumine.

Peacefully, you let your world succumb to the same darkness that swallowed you whole so many times before. The distant crackling of the fire lulls you to sleep and casts a protective warmth over you, though, it might have been Lumine who made you feel this safe—even with the increasing darkness.

Sunlight cuts through the white clouds in the blue sky and paints the ground with warm hues. Yesterday, the start of your journey to Mondstadt started with your departure from Liyue’s main city. You had set out towards Guili Plains, but with your current pace, and the fact you’d been avoiding the main roads, it’d take a few more days before your arrival.

Right now, you are making the final preparations for your second day on the roads. Up till now you hadn’t encountered anything noteworthy. Hilllichurl camps seemed sparse, there were little to none adventurers present in the wilderness, and the animals seemed more absent-minded—not bothering to run when Lumine had been hunting for dinner.

Perhaps it was a stroke of good luck after misfortune. Perhaps it was the calm before the storm.

You weren’t going to wait to find out which of the two it’d be.

“Good morning!” Paimon greets you with a warm smile, only to cross her arms right after. “Wait a minute, Paimon thinks you look tired. Did you get any sleep?”

She accusingly points at you, which makes you laugh in the process. “Really? I slept like a rock. It’s as if I caught up to all those restless nights from before, I’m feeling better than ever.”

Paimon hums, not attempting to argue back. You sling your bag over your shoulders as you stand up. Without a mirror it’s hard to check your appearance, however, you don’t doubt that the little pixie began to see what you’ve been seeing the past few weeks. Even at this very moment when you stretch out your bare hands, you seem to fade away.

You pull your cloak over your head, turning to look at the pixie. “Have you seen Lumine yet?”

She makes a stressed sound. “She went out to check the surroundings, to make sure everything is safe for Paimon and you, but… she hasn’t returned yet.”

The little pixie turns her head towards the treeline, whispering below her breath how it shouldn’t take much longer, no doubt a bit worried about Lumine’s delay.

“Oh, Paimon forgot to ask.” She turns her body back to you, “Did you end up reading the book that Paimon and Lumine bought for you in Liyue?”

The bag begins to feel heavier at the mention of the book. Your hand instinctively moves over, and when you graze over the fabric, you feel the item within. When you fish it out, a heavy book yells out the contents of the story through a title.

‘The Divine Creator’s Demise & the End of Teyvat’

Paimon’s smile falls into an agonized frown, her eyes casted onto the cover. The picture appears to represent the Creator, you, with a star-hilted sword in the back. It gives you an unsettling feeling.

You are quick to force it back into the bag, safe and out of view. “I don’t think I’ve read it yet. It’s been quite hectic, even when it was just me and the gnosis in the inn.”

“Paimon understands. When you first asked for a book, Paimon and Lumine were surprised to only find such a dark one. They should make happier stories for The Creator, y’know!”

You try to recall the moment when you asked for a book. However, nothing comes to mind.

You get ready to defend your past actions but you are interrupted by a familiar voice calling out both your and Paimon’s name. From the treeline, Lumine appears with a stranger by her side. When the two stop in front of you, Paimon puts her arms on her hips. The pixie is quick to recognize the man, calling him by his name, to which he responds with a curt greeting. When Paimon doesn’t further react to it, you realize that they must be well acquainted.

Your eyes inspect the stranger whom Paimon called ‘Dainsleif’.

His outfit consists of a black jacket with blue details, a grey vest, and black pants. He seems to be wearing black armored gloves and boots, but you’re not too sure about that since the right side of his outfit was laced with a blue veiny pattern. And while his outfit already made him an easily recognizable figure, his cape seemed to catch all your attention. The stranger’s black cape had a beautiful starry, space-patterned interior that seemed to reflect the night sky, shimmering and dancing behind him.

Something like that, you’re bound to remember. The way the small stars shimmer and fade, even with the daylight blinding them, has you mesmerized. After a small moment you look over at Lumine for guidance.

“This is Dainsleif,” when Lumine mentions his name, the male offers another nod in your direction. “He felt your aura. That’s how we encountered each other. He offered to join us while we head towards Mondstadt, but only if you’re okay with it.”

An uncanny sense of familiarity wafts over you. “Join us?”

Paimon floats closer and clings to your arm. “Dainsleif might not seem approachable at first, but Paimon knows we can trust him. After all, he helped us with finding the Adepti.” she quickly adds to it, “Plus, he knows a looot of things. He might be helpful to you as well!”

You take another look at him. He appears a bit stiff, but not in a threatening way. He genuinely seems to have no idea what to say or do. An understandable thing, considering you were The Creator. “I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance in this world.”

“As am I,” you reply. You’re surprised at how easy the words fall out of your mouth. While you’re not thrilled to have a stranger join you on your journeys, you put your trust in Lumine and Paimon’s judgment. “So we’re all going to Mondstadt together?”

Lumine puts one of her hands on her hip while shifting her weight onto one foot. “With the help of Dainsleif, we could once again use the main roads. If you’re exposed to people who are unable to sense your aura we might land in a troubling situation, but considering how slow our current journey has been, I’m willing to take a chance.”

“Paimon thinks it’s a great idea. We can travel on the road during the day, and set camp further away!” The pixie exclaims her idea with pride.

You think about the proposition. The gnosis concealed by your cloak is no longer a cause for worry. Ever since you set out towards Mondstadt, it stopped glowing. While its lack of power caused concern, you no longer needed to worry about someone seeing the light it usually radiated.

Furthermore, on multiple occasions, your cloak had proven sufficient capability of hiding your face. With Dainsleif traveling alongside you, your group had grown big enough for everyone to feel confident with your current camouflage. Unless another aura-sensitive person showed up, you’d go unnoticed.

You can’t help the way your lips curl upwards with excitement. “Sounds like a plan.”

Paimon cheers, floating a little higher as she kicks her feet in the air. While both Lumine and Dainsleif remained neutral, you sensed something different from the latter. He kept looking around him as if he was busy with something else and absent from the conversation.

You’ve only known him for a few minutes, so you’re unsure if this is another part of his ‘not approachable’ appearance. Thus, you decide to not comment on it.

When his eyes land on yours, you notice the star-shaped pupil.

It reminds you of Kaeya.

Paimon’s snores during her evening nap are enough to keep you distracted from your book.

When you finally decide to stand up for a fresh breath of air outside of camp, you’re met with the sight of Dainsleif well on his way to start a fire. He sits on a fallen tree trunk, having found the perfect spot for everyone to sit once Lumine returns with dinner.

While sitting, he throws another log onto the pyramid of already burning ones, carefully nurturing the fire until it crackles loudly and has enough fuel to last the entire night.

He is clearly a step ahead of you and Paimon. The latter had fallen asleep once you finished setting camp with her, and then yourself, gazing in stupor at the new companion with a book in hand.

For a moment longer, you observe his actions.

His cape flutters behind him onto the grass, the stars within fluttering with each movement he makes. For the first time, he averts his attention from the fire. You instinctively follow his gaze.

Dainsleif’s blue eyes turn from the treelines, towards the open field with the makeshift camp, until they land on you. Eye to eye, you stand still in your place until you decide to give him a wave. He hesitates but ultimately sends an equally awkward wave back into your direction.

While the interaction could’ve gone better, it’d be even more embarrassing if you were to turn back to camp, so you approach him.

“Can I sit next to you? Paimon fell asleep after we finished making camp and she snores too loud for me to read.” You lift the item in your hand as you approach him, the cover shining brightly; ‘The Divine Creator: world walker’.

"An interesting title. I did not expect that ‘The Creator’ would read stories about themselves, much less any praising ones." His tone remains the same but his words seem to silently tease you, acting as if he’d known you for a longer time. You smile, sitting yourself next to him at a comfortable distance. You’re close enough for it to seem friendly but far enough for it not to be awkward.

"It's a study read. I can't sit idle while everyone is working hard to regain my memories. And who knows? I might look like a self-centered god but maybe the book will have answers," you respond.

His eyes stay focused on you. "What makes you confident that the contents are all factual and not made up?"

When he sees you raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to defend yourself, he adds, "Here is another question. How can you be certain that you are, in fact, 'The Creator' without any memories to support it? Have you ever entertained the idea that ‘The Creator’, as a concept, never existed prior to your arrival?”

Despite the outlandish question, you find yourself trying to answer his questions. After all, your lack of memories have been raising doubts. A troubled sigh leaves your lips when you realize that they have from the moment you entered Mondstadt, up till this very moment. And while he was right on the fact that you’d never be able to confirm anything without your memories, it’d be absurd to doubt the many people who do have memories of you, right?

The fire in front of you dances as thin strands of smoke twirl around. Above the horizon, the sunset was slowly merging from bright colors into a solid dark blue. You’d lose the light to read fast, but you feel like you’ll get more answers from Dainsleif than anywhere else. And thus, you entertain his thoughts.

"If the creator didn't exist before my arrival, it's another thing I won't be able to confirm without my memories. Regardless of what is and what is not true, I have to continue forward—trying to find my memories as I do." You look at Dainsleif, resolve filling your mind as you grow more confident about your past choices. "I will go to Mondstadt, and I will find out the truth. Furthermore, I’ll accept that truth as it is, with or without me being ‘The Creator’."

Dainsleif's lips curl upward for a split second. The moment is so fleeting that you doubt it ever happened at all. You do notice how his shoulder relaxes. Dainsleif lets out a breath that feels like a burden he'd been carrying for a while. Then he turns to the fire once more, poking the stick in his hands against the charred ones.

He speaks to you, "Then it'll be my pleasure to accompany you once more, so-called creator of ours."

If you liked this chapter and think I deserve a comment, please leave one behind! I appreciate it a lot and it'll make me more motivated to write in the future ♡

#this post has been queued #sagau #sagau x reader #dainsleif x reader #lumine x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #sagau isekai #isegau #dainsleif #lumine

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