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anilovie · 9 months

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My Love, My Life

Summary: You and Anakin are on a supply-run and get caught in a storm, forcing you to find shelter amidst growing tensions.

WC: 9.3k

CW: MDNI, pwp, oral (f recieving), mild size kink, shared shower, lots of fluff

AN: I swear this whole thing was revealed to me in a vision.

You and Anakin had been watching the weather closely since being sent out in the dingy little transport ship. The mission was to deliver supplies and medical aid to an incognito Obi-Wan on the planet Leaze— before the storm got bad enough where travel became impossible.

It was a simple mission, if not complicated by the sudden turn in their seasons, bringing forth a front of strong winds and heavy rains. Anakin could have even come himself, but the two of you played up the extent of Obi-Wan’s sustained injuries so that the Council would feel the need to send a medic – you – along for the ride as well. Any opportunity for you and Anakin to spend time together, you exploited.

Really, Obi-Wan just sprained a wrist. He was low on food, water ammo, batteries, and his clothes had been all torn up in a nasty skirmish with some bounty hunters. “A joyride,” Anakin referred to this mission as. That is, until you began the descent into Leaze’s misty, swirling skies.

In between tracking his location and watching the weather radar, Anakin’s focus was on bringing you down to the ground safely — with a little more emphasis on safe, since you were here. Thus, his hands gripped the controls with a bit more force than normal, jaw clenched and brows furrowed as he met each gust of wind with a controlled parry. He pulled the shuttle through the misty skies, stabilizing the rocking foundations through the whipping winds that threatened to toss you right out of the air.

You weren’t sure how he could even see. The rain and leaves that had stuck to the window obliterated any view– he likely wasn’t even trying to see. You realized this as he answered Obi-Wan’s incoming call without even sparing a glance out the window, fingers flying over the dashboard, weathering the elements through intellect and feeling alone.

“Anakin, Y/n, I trust that you’ve made it here safely,” Obi-Wan’s hologram displayed before you and Anakin. He looked alright – his disguise was off, for now, and he seemed to be someplace warm and out of the rain, a complete juxtaposition to the two of you.

As soon as the words warbled through, something slammed into the shuttle, rocking the foundations with an ominous groan as you began to plummet.

Anakin swore and yanked on the yoke, flicking some switches on the dashboard. “Working on it,” he bit through clenched teeth, huffing as the inferior ion engines sputtered and popped to life, breaking your fall. The shull continued to rattle and jerk, throwing you around in your seat despite being fully strapped up.

“I can see that,” Obi-Wan quipped. “Well, once you make it to the ground, don’t bother coming to my location. The storm is worse than the reports have indicated. Find shelter for yourselves – I can hold out another day.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’ll do more harm than good forcing you out there in these conditions. I am safe where I am.”

“Which is where?”

The transmission cut out for a moment, shuttering off and on again as sheets of rain pelted the aluminum roof. You caught the last half of his explanation. “--they offered a room for the night, though at a high price. I hope you brought extra credits.”

“Some,” Anakin grit.

“Perfect. Well, I won’t keep distracting you. It looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Obi-Wan bid goodbye, his cheery tone outlandish among your current predicament. “Happy landings,” he bid, and the transmission cut off.

Your fingers dug into your armrests, trusting Anakin’s skill to see that wish through. He was still deeply concentrated, and more than a little stressed as he pulled the yoke and typed over multiple colorful buttons.

“Well, at least he’s safe,” you offered offhandedly, trying to diffuse the tension. Another hard gust of wind slammed into the hull, this time on your side, followed by a hard sheet of rain. You flinched.

The lights had begun to flicker a while ago, and now they shut off completely, leaving you in the pitch black. Your sharp intake of air was audible, heart dropping to the pits of your stomach as the assault on the ship heightened.

“It’s okay, I did that on purpose,” Anakin explained. You could hear the strain in his voice, the clacking of his fingers over the overworked dashboard. “We need more power to the engines and thrusters. It’ll be a bumpy landing either way, but–”

“It’s okay,” you squeaked.

“We’re almost there…”

Bracing yourself, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the armrests, anticipation swirling around in your gut. You trusted him. You didn’t have to be so afraid. It was the weather you didn’t trust. Maker forbid you land in a pit of mud, swallowed up before you could escape.

A sudden jolt threw you forward, the sickening screech of bolts and rods fighting to hold the metal panels of the shuttle together drowning out all other senses. Inertia pushed you forward in your seat, and you would have gone flying out the windshield if it weren’t for the double straps tightened over your chest, the lap belt, and the death grip you had on your armrests.

Slowly, the sliding of the shuttle ship began to slow, the tension in the shuttle easing, parts settling back into place. Then, the sounds of the vicious rain pelting the roof returned, your body relaxing against the seat with a huff, blinking your eyes open to the pitch blackness of the hull.

“You okay?” Anakin worried, clicking out of his own seatbelt to reach for you.

You followed suit, fingers fumbling around in the dark for the clasps that would free you. “All good,” you released one set of straps, and Anakin found the two others for you. “Thanks.”

Another gust of wind nudged the shull forward, groaning under the pressure. Some lights flickered on, and there was Anakin fiddling with the control panel overhead so you could see.

“I don’t think we can stay here for very long, unfortunately,” he said, and you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look so stressed. “The ship appears to be sinking. We’ll have to pack a bag and get going.”

Abandon ship? In these conditions?

Again, your unshakable trust in him erased any fear in your mind. He’d done far riskier and more dangerous things – his own fear now was because of you. You’re safety.

But you were fine – just a little shaky as you stood and reached for the supply crates in the back, rifling through them for necessities, tossing them to Anakin to shove into a bag. You managed to get half of what you’d originally planned to drop off for Obi-Wan into two bags. Anakin shrugged the larger one over his shoulders, and you took the smaller one.

You’d both come prepared, already wearing rain ponchos, but it seemed like they’d do little good as Anakin kicked the stuck door open. The sound of the rain coming down was deafening, a roaring torrent that could easily sweep you away.

“Hold on to me,” Anakin yelled over the sound, and you hooked an arm around his, pulling you out of the ship with him.

Mud and rain splattered your face as your boots met the ground, and he immediately took off, dragging you with him. Again, your blind faith in him came in handy. All you could focus on was spluttering around the rain for any pocket of air you could find, trying to keep upright as your heels slipped and skidded in the mud, hoping you weren’t slowing Anakin down.

Of course you were slowing him down. You were no Jedi. But you both knew that, and he didn’t mind. Just wanted you out of the wind and rain so you wouldn’t catch a cold.

After what seemed like ages of the two of you fighting through the elements, narrowly avoiding trees and branches and sharp rocks, Anakin pointed out an abandoned shed in the distance. He ran for it, pulling you under the awning with him so he could pound on the door.

“No one’s here,” he spoke after a moment as you were still wiping water out of your eyes. Something clicked in the door, unlocking so Anakin could open it up and peer inside.

He found the light switch on the wall, flipping it up and down uselessly. “Power’s out,” he mumbled, searching around in the force for some mechanism of light. Apparently finding something, he released your hand. “I’ll be right back.”

You stood shivering by the closed door, dripping a puddle of water onto the ground as you waited for him to return. With your sight gone, your other senses were heightened – you could smell the dust of furniture long forgotten, hear the creeks of unkempt floorboards as Anakin explored the shed, and feel the bone-cold chill of the storm seeping in under the crack in the door. Wherever you were, it was very old, and likely abandoned.

Anakin came back around the corner brandishing a candle, shielding the flame with one hand as he made his way back to you.

“This looks like it was somebody’s home at one point,” he thought aloud, pointing to the way he just came. “That’s a kitchen over there, and there’s a loft with a bed in the back. Pretty sure I saw a shower, too. I can probably get the pumps running long enough to make use of it.”

You wouldn’t question how he could do that– sometimes it seemed like he had magical powers, even without the force.

“Is there a fireplace?” you wondered, shaking off your drenched poncho and stepping further in now that you could see. “Maybe I could heat up some water to use, warm this place up a bit, too.”

Anakin held the candle out before him, casting shadows over the interior of the little shed. Right in front of the door was a wooden stairway – more of a ladder – that led to what you assumed was an attic. Deciding to avoid any bats or rodents, you agreed to keep that shut and rounded the ladder to what looked like a tiny living room opposite the kitchen, separated by a thin wall.

A couple threadbare sofa-chairs sat dusty and weathered on the dull carpet, a table set before the both of them, and – jackpot – a little stone fireplace in the corner.

“The wood from outside is too wet to burn,” Anakin poked at the empty log pit. “But I could break down that table and use it as fuel…”

“Good idea,” you chirped, taking the candle from Anakin to free up his hands for the task. “I’ll go look for more candles and matches.”

The kitchen was just as tiny, standing room only and no dining table. It consisted of a slab of wood for a counter, an empty ice box that was cracked down the middle, and some drawers which were also mostly empty.

One of the cupboard up top held a few random supplies, mostly rubber bands and bottle caps and dead batteries. But amid that was a bag of little tea candles, a few larger ones made of a slippery wax, and a box of matches. Half were no good, but you only needed to light one and then share the flame with all the others.

You planted the tea candles around on various surfaces, lighting the space up as Anakin broke down the table. You threw some old papers you’d found bunched in a drawer into the fireplace for more starter fuel, scratching another match to life against the grated box once Anakin dropped a leg of the table into the fire. You tossed the match in after it, satisfied when the flame caught the edge of the papers and flared to life, enveloping the wooden leg.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed, holding your hands out to warm by the flame.

“Mmhm,” he agreed, crouched beside you. He stared, mesmerized by the flames for a long moment before suddenly standing. “Alright, I’m gonna go look at the pipes. Will you be okay for now?”

“Yup,” you nodded cheerily. “Where are the pipes?”

“There’s a cellar out back. Should be down there.”

“Oh…” this time, your shiver wasn’t from the cold. “Want me to go with you? Sounds kinda creepy.”

Anakin huffed a laugh, running a hand down the back of your head affectionately. “No, I think I’ll be alright, thank you. Want you to stay here and warm up.”

“I’ll go get the bed ready.”

“Perfect,” he brought you toward him with that hand, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.”

Now alone, you fed the fire with some more wood from the table, crouching down before the bags to get out your and Anakin’s spare set of clothes. You hung them up on the sill of the fireplace, weighing them down with the candles so they could dry.

There were a couple of large buckets beside the fireplace, probably meant for gathering wood. You took one and set it outside to collect rainwater. It didn’t take very long at all – it filled up from the downpour within minutes, and you hung it up on the metal rod above the fire to boil for drinking water.

Then you grabbed one of the thicker candles to light your way to the back of the shed. The floorboards lifted slightly back here, half of a wall hiding the bedroom from the rest of the interior.

The bed was quite large for such a small space, half-made with a quilted cover. It looked all dusty and gross, so you tore it off and opened all the drawers and cupboards in the space, praying for some spare sheets.

Luck seemed to be on your side. There was a set of sheets, blankets, and even a couple of pillows stowed away atop the first shelf in the closet. You had to strain on your tiptoes to reach them, but eventually knocked them down to your height. You took them to the living room and shook them out, making sure no dust or any bugs hid inside, then brought them back to the room and made the bed.

It was a lot more than you were hoping for, for an abandoned shed in the depths of the forest.

With the bed all made and Anakin not back yet, you decided to use the old dirty blanket to wipe down the interior of the bathroom. There was a shower – if that’s what you could call it. Really, it was just a spigot attached to the wall with a drain beneath, the floor here made of smooth rock rather than wood. But if Anakin could get it to work, and you warmed up some more water over the fire, you could have a real, warm shower using the soap you’d brought from the ship.

The sound of the door opening let in the roar of the rain once more. Anakin closed it behind him, shaking water out of his hair.. “Good news,” he called, voice carrying from the door to the bedroom in the small shed. “There’s a water heater down there that I got working, as well as the pipes. I just have to fill the tank and we’re good to go.”

“Ohh,” you cooed excitedly, rounding the corner to meet him again. “I found a bucket we could use– hold on.” You grabbed the spare bucket from the fireplace and handed it to him. “The bed’s all set, I found some clean sheets and cleaned up the bathroom. There doesn’t seem to be anything useful in the kitchen or anywhere else,” you shrugged. “But I think this will do pretty well for the night.”

“I think so, too,” Anakin said, and despite the howling wind and icy rain pounding into the roof and threatening to shatter the windows, he smiled.

He left to go fill the tank, and you laid out the rest of the supplies before the fire. The bigger bag was for Obi-Wan– those things you didn’t touch. But you and Anakin had a couple extra blankets, some food, a blaster, maps, and your medical supplies. Most of it survived the rain.

By the time Anakin came back, you were still sitting before the fire, occasionally feeding it with more scraps of wood and poking it around with a longer piece. He kicked the mud and dirt off his boots at the door before coming in, shrugging off his poncho.

“Alright, bad news…” he started this time. You turned to look at him. “The heater is the slowest thing I’ve ever come across. It’ll take hours. I don’t think showers are in the cards for us tonight.”

You twisted your lips, trying not to seem too disappointed. “Bummer.”

All you wanted to do was get out of these sticky, soaking wet clothes and immerse yourself in a warm shower. But at least he tried, and it really wasn’t the end of the world.

“Maybe in the morning,” you reasoned, trying to stay positive. He joined you by the fire as you tugged on the clothes you’d hung up, seeing if they were ready. “At least these are dry, and warm now. That’s better than nothing.”

“It is. Smart girl,” he tilted your face toward his with a finger, crouched before you again. His lips met yours – wet meeting dry, cold meeting warm. It took you by surprise a little bit, the intensity he kissed you with out of nowhere. But you responded in earnest, as if the simple touch of your flesh could warm him from the torrents coming down outside.

After a long moment, he pulled back an inch, mumbling against your mouth, “Let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah?”

You nodded silently, standing once he gave you room to take the clothes down from the fire.

You’d been on missions with Anakin before, just the two of you. But nothing like this – so raw, so intimate, so secluded from the rest of the world. You could feel a strange tension in the air between you two, not bad. Just… different. Like there was an energy pulsing alive, waiting for something to snap.

You’d been with Anakin for a few months now, and in love with each other for far longer. But… you’d never truly been with him yet. In any way.

He knew you weren’t ready, and explained you could take it slow. As slow as you wanted. He, of course, was already experienced, and that intimidated you. Which is why it had been months, and you still hadn’t made a move to progress things. Just the thought of doing those things with him made you impossibly nervous.

But lately, like now, you were thinking about it more and more. You couldn’t do this with anyone else, you thought. Just Anakin. You loved him more than life itself, and your ability to express that with words or innocent touches was growing limited.

You wanted more of him. And you wanted him to have more of you.

What are you thinking? You shook the thoughts out of your head as you took your clothes into the bathroom to change. These thoughts had nothing to do with the predicament you found yourselves in. The last thing he was thinking about was sex.

In fact, upon exiting the bathroom, you found him already changed into his dried pair of pants and nothing else, sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you with a tired, slumped look in his eyes.

He’d given you his spare shirt to wear since it was bigger and warmer than yours, and he wasn’t going to wear it anyways. You also had on a pair of shorts, the comfy ones you brought for sleeping since you thought you’d be in an inn right now.

You approached him slowly, shadows cast over his face from the candlelight, flickering off the walls. The air was a bit chillier back here, away from the fire that you’d let simmer to embers for now. Naturally, you gravitated toward his shirtless form, slotting yourself in the space he’d opened up for you between his knees, and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“What an odd change of plans,” you muttered into his hair softly.

His flesh hand found your back, holding you close as he nestled his head against your chest. “Agreed.”

You remained like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and rain-damp hair, listening to the constant thrum of the downpour above, the gusting wind in the trees.

“You tired?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You liked how it looked dark and burnished in the candlelight, holding the shape of a ringlet curl as you wrapped and uncoiled it from around your finger.

“Very,” he breathed, turning his face into your neck to leave a kiss on your collarbone. “C’mere.”

Both of his wrapped around your back, securely holding you to him as he fell backward onto the bed, with you on top of him. You laughed, steadying yourself with your arms on either side of his head, ducking down to plant a sweet kiss above his brows.

“You’re not even on the bed,” you pointed out, referring to his legs which were still on the floor. You pulled back the covers, and you both slipped under, instantly finding the spot between his chest and shoulder to lay your head. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you snuggly into his side, allowing you to slot one of your legs between his.

This is how it always was when you and him could truly be alone, uninterrupted, with no threat of someone finding you out. It was a rare moment, which is why your skin sang with every inch it pressed against his, heart soaring in your chest as your body seemed to settle so perfectly against his, erasing any doubt in your mind that any of this could be a mistake.

Before long, and without even realizing, you slipped into a deep sleep. Despite the harsh weather outside, you’d never felt so comfortable, wrapped up in warmth and darkness. That is, until Anakin woke with a start, wrenching you out of your slumber.

“What issit?” you slurred, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. It wasn’t like when he’d have nightmares, where you’d usually wake up before him due to his tossing and turning and mumbling. This was sudden – like something had possessed him, stolen all the air from his lungs as wide eyes turned to you.

“The transmitter,” he said, throwing the blankets off of him and getting out of bed. Your head was still lagging behind, having no idea what he meant.

“What transmitter?”

“The one on the ship. The only way we can contact Obi-Wan. We left it behind.”

He was already pulling on his boots and reaching for his other shirt, sparing no time. You pushed yourself further up in bed, swiping your hair out of your face. “D’you have to get it now? Can it wait till the morning?”

“The ship was sinking when we left it. It could be buried in mud right now,” he rushed the words out, grabbing his utility belt from the sill and securing it around his waist. “I’ll be back in an hour. Go back to bed… I’m sorry for waking you.”

“No, I’ll come with you,” you were already swinging your legs off the bed too, about to stand up when Anakin put a hand on your shoulder. It was dark now, the candles having been blown out without you realizing, and you could barely see his face.

“No. Stay here. I don’t want you out there, it’s too dangerous.”

“It’s just some rain,” your argument sounded meek, even to you. “Come on, Anakin, I don’t want you to go alone. ‘S not fair.”

“Fair?”

“You shouldn’t have to be out there while I stay here and sleep. I won’t be able to, anyway. It is dangerous, so I should come with you, in case something happens.”

“Y/n. No,” he said sternly, and you flinched. A heavy pause hung between you, where you searched for what to say among the scattered thoughts in your brain. He’d never been stern with you before. Ever.

“I won’t be gone long. I promise I’ll be there and back as fast as I can. Okay?”

“But,” you insisted stubbornly, desperately fighting back the sting in your eyes. “I want to go with you, Anakin. I want to help you.”

You tried to stand up again, but the hold he had on your shoulders wouldn’t let you. You tried to fight back the emotion rising in your throat, threatening to spill over your eyes at his defiance. He was too strong, his word absolute– and for once, you couldn’t sway him.

The thought of him out there, alone in the dark and cold and rain… it killed you.

You grasped at his wrists, still holding onto your shoulders, and squeezed as if you could keep him there. As if he wasn’t laughably stronger than you, and could pull away from your touch without realizing you were trying.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? This isn’t like you,” his words came out hushed now. Worried.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sniffed, lip beginning to wobble. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s scary out there.

“I won’t. I promise… I’ll be okay. You’ll see,” he kissed the stray tear that squeezed out of your eye, collecting it with his lips before it could trail a path down your cheek. You tried to steady your breathing, shaky as it dragged in and out of your lungs, quelling the rising feeling of dread and fear.

Somehow, he’d coaxed you back into bed, on your back, tucking the sheets in around you nice and tight. Tight enough so that you couldn’t get out, perhaps. Whimpering in defeat, you felt another few tears squeeze out of your eyes, turning your head away from him to bury into the pillow.

“Don’t do this,” Anakin murmured, stroking a hand over your hair. “Please, don’t cry.”

“Fine,” you snipped, immediately regretting it. “‘M sorry… just don’t get hurt. Come back.”

“I will,” he whispered, and trailed warm kisses down your temple.

And then he was gone.

His voice, his touch, his scent, his warmth – all of it, vanished like it had never been there to begin with.

It’s not the fact that he’d left to go do something dangerous on his own – it was the fact that he was out there all alone, in a terrible storm, fighting through the unpredictability of the elements. It had been violent for the short time you’d been out there earlier, the rain pelting your skin so hard it stung, the mud sticking to your boots, refusing to let you move, the wind nearly toppling you over if Anakin hadn’t been there to steady you.

You could have gone with him. You could have kept up. And Maker forbid anything happen to him – if he got stuck, trapped somewhere, if a tree came down over him, if he got lost and couldn’t find his way–

You couldn’t stay in bed. Half of you wanted to pull your boots on too and meet him out there, but you knew that was a stupid decision. You didn’t have his sense of direction, the built in radar that he had. And even as you peered through the cloudy window to the outside world, you knew it would be in vain. The night forest was alive with shuttering tree limbs, branches fighting each other in the sky as the terrible wind tossed them around. The rain never let up, the same suffocating sheet of water dumping from the moonless sky above.

Anakin was far gone at this point. You could only sit by the window, alone in the cold, dusty dark, until he returned.

The sleeves of your – Anakin’s – shirt had grown damp by the time you spotted his figure appear out of the trees.

It startled you at first, worried some stranger had come across the shed in the same way you and Anakin had, and was now heading this way to seek shelter. Once he arrived, he might find you here, and maybe he’d try to hurt you.

You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and grabbed for the water-logged blaster you’d set on the floor, shaking out some raindrops and hoping it wasn’t one of the things that got destroyed by the rain.

Your worry was for naught - the closer the figure grew, the more you recognized the height, shape, and gait of Anakin Skywalker. The hood of his poncho was pulled up over his head, but it did little good as the wind tugged and pulled at it, letting the rain drench his face anyway.

You set the blaster down and met him by the door, pulling it open to reveal him soaked to the bone and panting. He truly had run the whole way.

“Anakin,” you started, trying to stay out of his way so he could take off his poncho and boots without spraying you with water. “Are you okay? Did you get the transmitter?”

“I made it just in time,” he explained, reaching into his belt pocket and brandishing the little metal device. Such a small thing, important enough to risk his life over.

At least, to him it was.

“You must be freezing,” you muttered, still upset at the fact that you hadn’t shared in his suffering. You hated seeing him go through these things alone. You should have been with him.

“The heaters have probably had enough time to warm the water up,” his attempt to distract you didn’t go unnoticed. “You wanna go check for me?”

You whispered, “okay,” and flit back to the bedroom, lighting a couple of candles inside so you could see. The spigot was stuck in place due to years of sitting unused and abandoned, but eventually you managed to wrench it to the side, almost splattering yourself with brown water.

Your face crinkled in disgust, but soon it began to run clear. You tested the temperature with your fingertips, pleased to feel that it was warm.

Anakin rounded the corner, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom with his arms crossed. “Is it working?”

“Yeah. It’s warm,” you pulled your hand away and wiped it dry on your shorts. “You should get in quick so it’s not wasted.”

“Wanna join me?”

His offer caught you by surprise.

Join him? In the shower? As in… naked?

The look on your face must have given your thoughts away. He chuckled and reached toward one of the tea lights you’d just lit, snuffing the flame out between two gloved fingers. “I can turn off the lights…” he teased.

Damn him. As if you weren’t already flustered –

The steady trickle of the spigot remained at your back, seducing you to the warmth of the shower. It would feel so good to be able to wash up. And with there only really being enough time for one shower… it would make sense for the both of you to just do it together.

But Anakin had never seen you without clothes before. And you hadn’t prepared for that to happen today.

“Yes… no…?” he drawled, uncrossing his arms and reaching out for the other candle. Like the first, he pinched the flame out, blanketing the room in darkness. The sound of the floorboards creaking was the only way you knew he was approaching, tensing as you felt his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll behave.”

You were still upset with him being stern with you earlier. And even more upset that he didn’t let you go with him.

But something about his honey-smooth voice reduced you to putty in his hands. Warmth budded and bloomed deep in your stomach, and a certain resolve passed over you. You didn’t want to be upset anymore. You wanted this.

“Okay,” you whispered, fingers finding Anakin’s at the bottom of your shirt. You didn’t miss his slight inhale.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” you tugged the hem up yourself, urging him to guide the material over your head.

The darkness of the room was the only thing that offered you any sort of comfort, knowing he couldn’t truly see you just yet. You knew, logically, that he could fathom things in his mind without having to see them, but purposely ignored that fact.

You weren’t sure where your shirt landed, as he’d been the one to tug your arms out himself. Riding the adrenaline high, you slipped your thumbs under the elastic of your sleep shorts and pushed them down, kicking them somewhere in the corner.

And there you were, standing completely naked in front of Anakin Skywalker – your love, your life – for the first time ever.

Again, the only reason you could really do this right now was because it was pitch black in the room. You only had enough nerve to then reach for him, hand finding the soaking wet material of his own shirt as you shivered in the cold.

“Hurry up and get undressed, I wanna get in,” you pleaded. He’d gone eerily silent.

At your request, he started into motion. You could hear the sounds of his wet clothes slopping to the ground heavily, trying to fight the blush off of your face as you turned around to pull the spigot further. The water began to rain down in a warm current now, and you stepped underneath to douse yourself in the glorious heat.

“Where are yo–? oh,” you jumped as you felt his hands find their way around your waist, his naked chest pressed up against your back. The water sprayed over the both of you, trickling down his body to fall onto yours, shivering at the added heat.

The blood in your face grew warmer, trying not to think about how close his hands were to two very sensitive parts of your body. They spanned almost the whole length of your torso, tummy twisting as you realized just how big he was. Just how strong.

But he chose to be gentle with you.

Trying to steady your breathing, you reached for the soap you’d stowed away in the notch in the wall, flipping the cap open and squirting a generous amount into the palm of your hand. Anakin trailed his fingers down your arm, taking the bottle from you and setting it down again.

You rubbed the soap between your hands, letting the excess drip down your body so it wouldn’t go to waste. Then, you began rubbing the suds all into your skin, feeling impossibly feverish at the predicament.

It just felt… wrong, somehow, to be touching yourself like this in front of Anakin. Even if you were just washing up.

His hands had returned to your waist, and you smoothed them over his own as you worked your way down your body. Wordlessly, he turned his hands over, capturing your soapy fingers in his and stealing some of the suds. You huffed a laugh, heart fluttering in your chest as he began to work that soap into the soft skin of your stomach, hips, and waist.

You tried not to squirm too much. Forced yourself to relax, and just let him do what he wanted. He was obviously enjoying it, the way he lingered, rubbing circles into your soft skin, kissing at your shoulder blade as he brought his hands around and up your back, almost massaging the soap into you.

The way his hands moved over your body was so different than anything you’ve ever felt before. You’d never been touched so tenderly, so unrestricted yet loving as you’d been now. And though he had free reign, he avoided the parts that might make you uncomfortable… until you grew bold enough to capture his wandering hands in your own, leading them to the soft mounds of flesh yourself.

On instinct he squeezed, ever so gently, with your smaller fingers bracketing his own. “You can touch me,” you whispered, encouraging now that you were fully relaxed and comfortable with him.

“You’re perfect,” he replied, lips finding the curve of your neck.

What had he said about behaving?

As if he could read your thoughts, his lips released the skin of your neck with a small sound, pressing a kiss above that spot, and then one more under your jaw. Then he began to move his hands over your breasts, not quite sexual, but gentle. Caring. Washing you of rainwater and chill, so all that was left was the sweet smelling soap and the feel of him.

You sighed in relief, bones turning to mush in his hands. Soon, he reached for the soap again and squeezed more out, stepping around so that he was in front of you.

His hands found you again, your waist this time, the unpredictability of his touches making your heart hammer against your ribs. Something about it was so thrilling, not being able to see where he was or where he was planning to go, especially now that you’d given him permission to touch you. You weren’t sure where you’d draw the line if it came to that. If you’d draw the line.

His touch remained wholly innocent, though, focusing back around on your stomach, dragging down the curve of your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs. You could feel his breath on your tummy, butterflies flaring to life as you realized he was on his knees before you, dragging his touch up and down your thighs as his lips pressed a sensual kiss to the top of your tummy. Then above your belly button. Then one below–

You held your breath, anticipating him to keep going. But he lingered on the last kiss, and you could feel his teeth on your skin as he smiled.

“On my best behavior, remember?” his voice was deep, almost a purr.

You could only manage a meek “Mmhm,” as he continued on, tracing his fingers down to your knee, lifting one leg slightly so he could trail kisses down your thigh, over your knee, down, down down, all the while rubbing soap into your skin in his lip’s wake.

By the time he reached your foot, you were bracing yourself with your hands on his shoulders, trying not to jump out of your skin as his lips continued. He kissed your ankle, the top of your foot, massaging soap into the soles of your feet.

He wasn’t just washing you. He was worshiping you.

That much was clear as he released that leg and started over on the other side.

You were almost relieved when he was done. Every inch of your skin was alive and buzzing, standing on edge with electricity and embarrassment and something else. Something deep, and smooth, and warm like bubbling molasses. You could barely breathe, glad for the moment of reprieve when he finally released you, and deposited more soap in his hands so he could wash himself.

Your legs were jelly, afraid you’d fall down right there in the shower, completely baffled how he could just do something like that and continue on like nothing happened. Then, you heard the speed at which he was rubbing the soap over his own body – clearly, he wanted to get out to continue this elsewhere.

You weren’t terribly ashamed to admit you were thinking along the same line.

Before the water could run cold, Anakin had urged you both under the spigot again and rinsed all the suds off your body. Then he grabbed for the single towel that you’d brought from the supply bag, turning the water off and wrapping you up in it.

“Hey– what’re you doing?” you pouted, undoing the towel just as soon as he’d tucked it into you, secure.

“Getting you dry,” he responded like it was obvious. You rubbed the towel over your skin quickly, then wrapped Anakin in it like he’d done to you. Or– you tried to, at least. You still couldn’t see, and completely missed your mark, caught off guard by the absence of the body you confidently reached for that you almost slipped, bracing yourself on the first thing you could reach.

“Woah,” Anakin chuckled, easily steadying you with his hands around your waist. Your bare chest was pressed against his, glaringly obvious with the way the cold air tightened your skin, and you blushed furiously.

“Sorry– couldn’t find you,” you mumbled, hopelessly patting at his chest with the towel now that you had him.

“Alright, let’s get you dressed and out of here before you take us both down,” he teased, bending to retrieve the clothes you’d both discarded in the dark.

You let him pull his shirt over your head first, shielding you from the nippy air. You were disappointed with the loss of contact, but glad for the sense of normalcy. He knelt before you again and urged you to lift your leg with his hand around your calf, guiding one leg, then the other into your shorts, pulling them up until they rested comfortably on your hips.

He pulled his own pants on, the only thing he’d be wearing, and you finally reached for the bathroom door, ready to be able to see again even if it was only by candlelight.

It was like re-entering life, after being in the dark for so long. You turned to see if Anakin was following you, finding him close behind as he shut the door behind him, and just the sight of his ridiculously handsome face, gilded by the glow of the fire, set your heart aflame.

You needed his lips on yours. Now.

This time, he was taken by surprise with the intensity of your kiss. You stood on your tiptoes and captured his lips with yours, barely noticing as he fell back into the door slightly, hand finding your hip to steady you. His surprise quickly melted into an intensity that matched your own, hot lips sliding over yours, tongue dipping into your mouth for a taste, palm guiding your jaw just how he liked.

He kissed like he was drinking you in, breathing your air, as if he wished to share the same skin as you. And though you’d started it, now you were trying to keep up, head growing fuzzy from lack of oxygen as he began to guide you backward, onto the bed.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, the reality of the situation dawned on you. He wasn’t slowing down, and you didn’t want him to. His touch dragged fire across your flesh, tracing down the places he’d just worshiped under your clothes, pulling you so close to him you could feel his heart hammer in his chest.

Your hands buried in his hair, the other on his shoulder for stability, grounding as he released your lips with a gasp, wasting no time before claiming the sensitive skin of your neck with the same furiosity.

“Anakin,” you breathed, not really sure what you wanted to say. You just wanted to taste his name in your mouth, the way the syllables sounded so pretty, so perfect between your teeth.

He answered with a short “mmm,” listening but not really. He was too deep into it, kissing and sucking and nipping at your neck, tongue laving over the small hurts that his teeth dug into you.

Somehow his flesh hand had drifted to the elastic of your shorts. You’d missed it before, too caught up in him toying with the skin over your pulsepoint. But now his fingers teased the elastic that he’d just put on you, and despite your livewire nerves and the pound of your heart, you lifted your hips in invitation.

His mouth detached from your neck, shocked again as he breathed, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you forbid him from asking again by pulling him back to your lips. You needed the distraction, bracketing his jaw in both your hands as he pulled your shorts down your legs, slowly. Giving you time to back out.

You kicked them off once he reached your feet, flinging them out of sight. Anakin settled back between your thighs, your knees squeezing his waist, squirming as his touch now roamed free under your shirt.

“Anakin,” you pulled away to breathe once again, lips swollen and wet, filled with the taste of him. “I– I don’t know what to do.”

His eyelashes shuttered, delicate as a butterfly wing, and he leaned back in to peck you gently on the lips. “Don’t worry about a thing,” he murmured, eyes all melted and soft. “I’ll take care of you.”

There it was again. That blind trust.

He could do whatever he wanted to you right now, and you’d let him. Half dressed, strewn over the bed, all for his taking… and he moved down your body to recount the kisses he’d pressed to your stomach in the shower only moments before.

Your muscles clenched and unclenched, hips squirming as you felt an uncomfortable warmth, a wetness, an ache between your legs the further down he moved. You were no stranger to that feeling, or how to relieve it– but you were new to sharing it with someone else. Sharing it with him.

Though it made you incredibly nervous to have him down there, the need for his touch outweighed everything. He kissed your stomach, hips, and thighs until he felt you relax under his palms, and only then did he slide his hands beneath your knees, pausing one last time to ask:

“Will you let me taste you?”

It felt like something exploded in your face, with the intensity that heat bloomed in your cheeks. Those bejeweled eyes shining in the candlelight, intent on you, hands clutching the plush softness of the backs of your thighs, breath ghosting over the bottom of your stomach– it was almost too much.

“Okay,” you answered quietly, nodding your head. “Y-yes.”

His responding grin was wicked – roguish. Broad hands pushed your legs up and spread them apart, baring it all for him to see.

It was quick– so quick you barely had time to be embarrassed, like ripping a bandaid off. He just… did it. And now he was looking at you, holding your thighs so steady in his strong grasp that you couldn’t even dream of closing them on him.

You threw a hand over your eyes, unable to watch him look at you.

“Baby,” he breathed, flesh hand releasing one of your legs so he could slot it between your thighs, thumb pulling you open a little. You didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed as he studied you, only opening your eyes to look at him when he tugged at your wrist in silent demand.

“C’mon, don’t be shy,” he teased, though when you blinked open your wet eyes to look at him, his face had melted into one of adoration. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before pressing his lips to the swollen bud of your clit, taking you by surprise again. “The prettiest there ever was,” he smirked when he saw your reaction, pulling you open with both thumbs now so he could press a hot, deep, lingering kiss into you.

You gasped at the contact, blood rushing in your ears as your back bowed off the bed. Sparks of pleasure battled the humiliation as he continued planting sweet little suckling kisses to your clit, over and over, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Once you’d relaxed back onto the bed, and the first pathetic whimper left your mouth, he let his tongue roam your folds, collecting your taste.

He knew this was new for you, so he went slow. Started gentle, getting you used to the feeling. And it was strange for you, just a little bit, but mostly it felt… good. So good. Indescribably good. So much so that you couldn’t believe you’d held out on this for so long.

Couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you now.

Your hips twitched and jumped as his tongue traced down to your entrance, teasingly licking you in circles, using pressure like he might try to put it in. The thought had you reaching for the bedsheets, needing something to squeeze in your fists. One of his hands intercepted yours, bringing it back to your thigh so he could hold you still and let you squeeze his hand at the same time.

He licked your arousal up, truly drinking you now, allowing his tongue to lave over your clit all slow and smooth and warm. You mewled, a sweet, innocent sound that went straight to his cock. With a desire to pull more pretty sounds from you, he kept drawing circles over your clit, increasing the pressure and speed until your eyes were closed, and you were biting your finger between your teeth, unable to help the sounds escaping you.

“Fuck, Ani–” gasped, thighs falling open by themselves now, inviting him deeper. He licked you again, closing his lips at the top of your heat to suck your clit into his mouth, pulling it between his lips with a pulsing suction.

He didn’t let up.

Your muscles tensed, the fuzzy warmth building in your gut, between your legs, spreading down your thighs, becoming all consuming. And just when you thought it would burst, he let go.

“Shit,” you cried, breathless as your hips rocked against his mouth. He laughed, sticking his tongue out so you could hump the met muscle, hot breath fanning over your most sensitive parts. His teeth gleamed in the firelight, dark eyes trained on you, and you had to shut your own so you didn’t cum right there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulled his face away, pinching the inside of your thigh just enough to sting. You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze again. “Stay with me, pretty girl.”

His mouth, shining with your slick, lowered to your pussy again. And you couldn’t stop from moaning, hips canting up and down even though you knew it made his job more difficult. You just couldn’t help it– it felt too good.

And he knew that, so he was nice. It was your first time, after all. So he relaxed the hold he had on your hips and let you squirm, just a little, to delude you into thinking you had even an ounce of control.

“You gonna cum in my mouth, sweet thing?” he spoke against your cunt, sealing the words off with a loud, wet, kiss. “Gonna make a mess for me?”

You’d never appreciated the velvety timber of his voice more than right now.

“Mhm,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes squeezing closed. And again, he let you. There would be other times to play his wicked games.

“Alright, sweetheart. Whenever you’re ready,” he soothed, returning his mouth to your clit. He licked and sucked, sliding his tongue back down to your hole and breaching the entrance like he’d fantasized about doing with his cock for so long now, carving the exact path he would take. You gasped for air, humming it out in cute helpless whines and whimpers, cheeks permanently stained in a flush.

“Anakin, I–” you wanted to say you loved him, no matter how pathetic that sounded. But it was true, it was all you could feel as his lips suctioned around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue in torturous circles. You loved him, loved his mind and his body, and the way his lips and tongue were pulling that glorious wave of heat from out of you now, swallowing the gush of hot slick that escaped from your pulsing hole.

He brought you down with his thumb on your clit, soothing gentle circles into it as you cried, body shaking and jerking beneath him. He watched you come undone with a small smile on his face, not allowing you to escape his attention for even a moment.

The last gulp of air that you took to settle your shivering muscles felt like the sweetest breath you’d ever taken. Anakin climbed back up your body, hands sliding over your knees, so he could kiss you deep on the lips.

You tasted yourself – it wasn’t bad… slightly salty, but not quite. That mixed with the taste of Anakin had your brain turn to mush again, lips lazy and compliant under his.

“See how good you taste?” he hummed, going back in to flirt his tongue around yours. “Fucking delicious.”

“Anakin–” you were pushing at his chest now, the buffer of arousal no longer shielding you from so much embarrassment. He laughed as you covered your face with your hands, immediately trying to tug them away again.

“It’s the truth,” he insisted with that lover’s pur, and you pouted once he finally succeeded in seeing your face again. He traced your bottom lip with his thumb, still smiling. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, unable to fight back your own matching smile. “‘T was so good, Ani. Didn’t think… didn’t think it’d be like that.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head, leaning into his warm palm as he cupped your cheek, thumb still stroking your bottom lip. “Thank you. Do you– do you want me to…”

It took him a second before he realized what you were talking about. His eyes widened slightly and he looked down, then laughed. “No– no, you don’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you want me to?”

“Of course I do,” he insisted, mirth and adoration oozing from his gaze. “But I can handle it tonight. Think that was enough for you.”

You pouted again, about to insist, but he kept you quiet with a kiss. “Another time, okay?” he whispered against your lips.

You nodded, complaisant.

“Good.” With a deep breath of his own, he lifted himself off of you, carefully closing your legs so they wouldn’t ache from being held open for so long. “Wait here,” he requested, and then left for the bathroom again.

He grabbed the towel you both had used, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you open up for me?” he asked, fingers sliding around your thigh in silent request.

Your face burned even harder than before, somehow, as you fulfilled his request, spreading your legs a bit so he could clean you up. It was a strange feeling, almost more intimate than what he’d previously been doing– but it was quick, and it felt nice now that your arousal was all cleaned up, and he could slip your shorts back on with you having to get up.

Anakin retreated back to the bathroom and was gone for a few long moments. You had an idea of what he was doing, another burst of heat blooming in your stomach at the thought of what was going on behind that door. You had half a mind to suggest helping him again. You were more than willing.

But he came out only a short time later to find that you’d straightened all the sheets, and were now waiting by the pillows for him to come back to bed with you. He blew out the candles as he passed them by, getting into the bed and wasting no time pulling you onto his chest.

He’d never felt closer to you. And you, him.

In the morning, you’d probably be embarrassed again, recalling what you’d done. The storm outside seemed to trap you in a bubble, your own world, and everything else seemed so far away now.

You pressed your palm to his chest, letting the strong thud, thud, thud of his heart lull you to sleep. Before he could feel you drift off, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, and you heard it in your dreams.

divider from @saradika

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minniesmutt · 5 months

Text

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ��𝐫𝐭 𝟐

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: I.N X READER (MAYBE SEUNGMIN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: NON-IDOL! AU, YANDERE! IN, DUBCON/NONCON (?), VIOLENCE, SPIT, ORAL (M REC), SLAPPING, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING (FORCED), CREAMPIE, POLICE, MENTION OF GUNS, PREGNANCY, MENTION ABORTION, FILMING, LOT OF CRYING AND APOLOGIZING, IT'S STILL A BIT FUCKED U ☾ ━━━ WC: 4K ☾ ━━━ PART ONE PART THREE ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

Y/n tried tracking how long Jeongin had kept her in the isolated cabin. After a few days, everything blurred together. After a week she noticed him going in and out of the back, leaving her in the house.

She’d checked the windows and doors while “cleaning” the cabin. Everything was locked— padlocked. This was forever.

Occasionally, she’d find him watching the news— one of her friends had reported her missing. He’d almost put it on to tease her. That no matter how hard they looked, they wouldn’t find her.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried getting out. Multiple times even. But it just made him angry. When he was angry, it wasn’t good. He was a different person.

He’d hit, yell, break things. Slowly everything became her fault. It was her fault he was like this. He’d started blaming for her friends being in a coma— admitting he had paid someone to hit the car that night. It scared her more. She’d shrunk into herself. Just praying he didn’t kill her.

But sometimes she saw the good bits and it threw her mind into a loop. But she knew it was all part of his manipulation tactic. One he fucked up once.

Jeongin had turned on the TV, news broadcasting the search for the two of them. her family and friends pleading with the public to find them. Then he got up abruptly and walked out the back door. Y/n waited a few seconds before reaching forward. He put her phone on the table to tease her.

If the TV was on, they had some signal. She tapped her screen and was surprised she still had battery life. She checked the back door one last time before opening her phone— not daring to pick it up from its position. She opened her messages with Changbin. Sending him her current location as quickly as she could.

Y/n: help

you were right

The message threw Changbin off. It’d been almost a month since she disappeared. He knew the moment she told him she and Jeongin were going on a weekend trip it wasn’t going to end well.

“What?” Minho asked as their usually loud friend went silent

“Y/n texted me…” Changbin said

“What did she say?!” Jisung practically yelled as he jumped on top of him

“Aye!” Changbin yelled and pushed him off and looked back at the screen, “She sent her location and said help.”

“HELP?!” Jisung yelled

“Send it to the detective,” Minho said as he grabbed his keys

“Where are you going?” Jisung asked

“We’re getting our friend back from that psycho,” Minho said

“What if he has a gun?” Jisung asked

“A chance I’m willing to take!” Minuo called.

The two followed the oldest out of the apartment. Changbin was on the phone with the detectives working on the case as he and Jisung followed their friend out of the apartment. Sending them the location Y/n sent him. The detectives redirected them over to the station to come up with a plan.

Y/n had quickly deleted the messages from her phone and shut her phone off quickly. Sitting back on the couch and waiting. And she waited for a while. Too scared to move before he came back in. Two hours later, it was already dark outside. She didn’t question anything. Not even the blood on his hands. Too scared to say anything to him.

She sat quietly on the couch, waiting for him to come back. She heard the shower turn on, giving her more time in her thoughts. She knew the drive from the city to where they were was long. At least three hours. She just waited anxiously.

Eventually, Jeongin came back into the living room and sat next to her. Pulling her onto his lap and kissing her neck. “It’s useless,” Jeongin said

“What is?” Y/n asked

“Them looking for us. I made sure no one could find us.” Y/n could hear the crazy dripping from his voice while he gripped her hips.

Y/n tried hiding how revolting his touch had become to her. She was scared of what would happen if she jerked away from him. He’d been unpredictable since they got here and she feared every step she took would set him off. She was walking on eggshells around him.

“Get on your knees and face me,” He whispered in her ear and let go of her hips.

Y/n got off his lap and turned around, facing him before sinking onto her knees between his legs. Jeongin leaned forward and grabbed her face, making her look at him. “Open your mouth.”

Y/n did as she was told, opening up her mouth. Jeongin pulled her tongue out of her mouth and spit onto her tongue. Y/n left her tongue out as he sat back, pulling his cock out of sweat and sitting forward on the couch more. Putting his hand on the back of her head and pushing himself down her throat. Y/n gagged as the tip hit the back of her throat while he moaned at the feeling. Holding the back of her head and moving her head up and down his shaft. Y/n gripped the bottom of the dress she had on, trying to distract herself from him using her throat with the lace trim. Just hoping Changbin would get here soon. That he still cared enough to help her.

Each drag of his cock had her disassociating more. He noticed. He pulled her off his cock and harshly slapped her across the face, letting her fall to the ground. “Who are you thinking about.” He demanded as he got on top of her

“Y-You,” Y/n stumbled

“Don’t lie to me Y/n,” Jeongin warned

“I’m not! Promise, I was thinking about you Innie!”

“Why are you lying to me Y/n?!” He yelled

“I’m not!” Y/n cried

“Maybe I should have killed Seungmin from the beginning. That’s who you’re thinking about, right? Right?!”

He’s alive? “No! No, Innie, you’re the love of my life! Was thinking about you! It’s always you!”

“Always me?” He asked, softening a bit hearing that.

“Always you,” Y/n said, reaching for him a bit, cupping his face, and pulling him down for a kiss. Jeongin was quick to return it as he moved to put her legs over his hips, slipping inside her mid-kiss.

Y/n moaned into his mouth as he thrusted into her. She was keeping his mind off anything else. She couldn’t risk him snapping before Changbin or the police got to them. She didn’t know how long it would be but it was her only bit of hope at this point. She had to hold out hope.

“All mine.” Jeongin accentuated each word with a hard thrust into her. Chanting “mine, mine, mine.” with each thrust. His lips moved to mark her already hickey-covered neck. He never let the marks fade. Needing that visual to know he had claimed her.

Y/n played her part. At some point, he stopped caring if she finished or not. Just got himself off, cleaned the two of them up, and repeated the process a couple of hours later. It was easier to act like she still loved him that way. Easier to pretend him being this close to her didn’t make her want to throw up.

She blinked away tears as he finished inside her. Hoping none of them would fall and he wouldn’t notice. After a moment, he pulled out and got up. Leaving for a moment to grab something to clean her up before picking her off the ground and bringing her into the bedroom with him. Tucking her into bed before turning all the lights off in the cabin. Y/n lay in silence as he came back into the room, laying behind her and wrapping his arms around her. Holding her close to his chest.

“You’re taking a pregnancy test tomorrow.” He told her

“Okay,” Y/n agreed

Y/n felt him kiss her shoulder before saying goodnight to her. She replied automatically but didn’t dare fall asleep, she hadn’t slept much in days, maybe only a couple of hours before she was awake, waiting for him to let her go. She just stared into the darkness, looking at the wall, and nightstand, trying to tell herself that this wasn’t real.

She could hear the clock tick each second out in the living room. Trying to keep track of the time, disassociating the longer the seconds ticked by. She swore at one point she heard noise outside but assumed it was an animal. She wasn’t thinking of anything else. Not someone was there to save her. It was only minutes later the bedroom door was practically kicked open and lights shined bright in the room. People yelling that jolted Jeongin awake, his grip on her loosening. Y/n moved out of the bed as quickly as she could as what she assumed were police and SWAT were surrounding the bed.

“Ms. L/n?” A voice said amongst the yelling for Jeongin to get out of bed

“Yes…” She said, tears welling in her eyes

“Let’s get you out of here. You’re safe now.” The officer helped her stand and wrapped a blanket around her.

Every ounce of adrenaline she had practically been surviving off of crashed and she almost fell standing up. The officer carried her out before they got Jeongin out of the cabin in handcuffs. They carried her to the waiting ambulance before she heard her name being yelled.

“Y/n!” It wasn’t Jeongin. She heard Jisung before she saw him. Once she did she opened her arms as he hugged her. “You’re okay.” She could hear that he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n let the tears fall, crying into his shoulder.

“Don’t apologize,” Jisung pulled away and looked her over as the paramedics got to work, trying to check on her.

“Ji, let her breathe,” Minho’s voice came. Y/n saw him and Changbin walk up and it just made her cry more.

“You got my text,” Y/n asked as Minho patted her head and Changbin hugged her.

“Yeah. Minho almost jumped the gun and came and got you without all this,” Changbin told her

“I’m sorry, Bin…”

“Don’t apologize. You were manipulated.”

“I could have taken him in a fight,” Minho said.

Y/n looked over her friend’s shoulder as they dragged her psycho ex out of the cabin. Quickly hiding again in Changbin’s chest.

“She needs to get to a hospital,” one of the paramedics said

“Wait, there might be someone else on the property,” Y/n told them as they tried getting her on the gurney in the ambulance.

“What do you mean?” The officer who brought her out asked

“He kept bringing up my ex, Seungmin. Early, he came back in with blood on him and said he should have killed him in the beginning.” Y/n explained

“Check the rest of the property!” The officer ran into the chaos, relaying what she had said to him.

“Ms. L/n, you need to go to a hospital for a full examination.”

“Minho and I will stay here in case something happens. Go back with her, Bin.” Jisung said

“We’ll call if they find him,” Minho reassured them

Changbin nodded and helped the paramedics get Y/n onto the gurney, sitting close to her as they slowly drove away from the house.

“Two detectives are gonna meet us at the hospital to take a statement, okay?” Changbin asked

“Okay…” Y/n said

“Tired?” Changbin asked her

Y/n nodded as she relaxed into the pillow. Slowly nodding off from her lack of sleep and being out of survival mode. The beeping of monitors woke her up hours later. Having to adjust to the hospital light before looking over and seeing Changbin asleep in a chair next to her.

“Bin…” she said which seemed to have woken him up. He must have just started drifting off

“Good morning,” Changbin sighed and stretched

“How long was I asleep?” Y/n asked

Changbin quickly checked his phone, “About seventeen hours.”

“Damn,” Y/n sighed

“Good news though. Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix woke up about a week ago from their comas,” Changbin smiled

“Did they find Seungmin?”

“They did. Minho said they brought K-9 out because Jeongin wouldn’t tell them where he was. They found him chained up in a cellar under the cabin. He was doing the bare minimum to keep him alive and it looked like he was beating him from what Jisung said. Ji rode back in the ambulance and Minho followed them back.”

“How long was he down there?”

“He hasn’t said anything since they found him. Minho’s with him right now.”

Y/n nodded, playing with the thin hospital blanket.

“Hey. This isn’t your fault. Jeongin manipulated you. No one blames you. He already confessed to having paid someone to hit the car that put the guys in a coma and kidnapped you and Seungmin as well as confessed to the assaults. He’s going to jail for a long time,” Changbin assured her and grabbed her hand, “The detectives still want your statement and the guys want to see you too.”

“Can you be here when I give the statement?”

“Yeah. Want me to let the detectives know you’re ready?”

Y/n nodded and Changbin called the detectives letting them know she was awake and ready to talk. The two detectives were down at the hospital within a few minutes. Changbin sat quietly in his chair while she talked about what happened in the cabin. She could feel him seething next to her but didn’t say anything. At least till the detectives left.

“Say it Bin,” Y/n sighed

“What?” he asked

“I can feel your anger from here.”

“I’m mad for you. Not at you. How could you tell them about that so calmly?”

“Started dissociating when it would happen. Can we just stop talking about it?”

“Okay,” Changbin agreed, “The detectives also grabbed your personal belongings from the cabin. Nothing is evidence, just have to go to the station and get them, okay?”

“Can you go get them for me?”

“Yeah. Ji said he’d come by later so I could go back home and sleep properly. We just didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up.”

“Thanks,” Y/n smiled as a knock came from the door. She jumped a bit but was relieved when it was just the doctor

“Ms. L/n. It’s nice to see you awake,” she smiled

“Thanks,” Y/n said

“There’s a couple of things I wanna go over with you.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Changbin asked

“You can stay bin.”

“Alright. We ran a few tests while you were asleep to make sure everything was okay. No major damage to any bones or organs thankfully. I do want you to talk to a therapist about what you went through. Events like this can be very traumatic and we want to give you a safe space to talk about it.”

“Ok.”

“One of the tests we ran was a pregnancy test and it did come back positive.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll give you some time to think about where you want to go from here with the pregnancy. Please think it through, I’ll have our hospital psychiatrist come down and talk to you later today, okay.”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded

The doctor gave her one last smile before she left the room. Y/n took a shaky breath as she fell further into the pillow.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Bin grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears, “We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

“I don’t want to carry a piece of him with me, Bin,” Y/n cried

“You don’t have to, okay? This is your decision. I’ll help you out with anything you need.”

Y/n nodded her head as Changbin hugged her. Trying to comfort her as best as he could. Getting her calmed down after a few minutes and opted just to change the subject before Jisung showed up, hiding a batch of Felix’s brownies.

“He wasn’t sure if you were ready to see him so he just sent them with me,” he explained

“I’m gonna go pick up your stuff from the police station and grab you some clothes for when you get discharged, okay?” Changbin said as he checked he had everything

“Okay,” Y/n nodded

“Have they said anything about discharging her?” Jisung asked

“No. The doctor came in earlier but just went over the tests.”

“Ah. Okay. I’ll keep you updated then.”

Changbin nodded and left the room.

“Want a brownie?” Jisung asked

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled

Y/n was thankful Jisung didn’t ask anything. Just kept her company till Changbin came back with her things and until the psychiatrist came in to talk to her. By the next morning, they were discharging her with clear instructions to take it easy and set up a meeting with a therapist. Changbin drove her back to her apartment. Getting up to the building and looking up at it.

“You don’t have to go up. Chan won’t mind you staying with us. We have the spare room,” Changbin offered, noticing her hesitation

“All my stuff is up there…”

“I can come over and grab stuff.”

“... You sure I can stay with you and Chan?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay…”

“I’ll drop you off with Chan then come back and get some of your stuff.”

“Thank you.”

Changbin let Chan know the situation threw a few quick texts before heading to his place. Chan met her outside and helped her out of the car. Changbin promised to be back as soon as he could before driving off.

“Long time no see,” Chan smiled as he brought her inside.

Y/n sat on the couch as Chan grabbed her some water and a blanket. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital…” She finally said

“Ah. I barely even noticed.” Chan waved it off, “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I should have listened to you guys…”

“Y/n, stop blaming yourself. You were as much of a victim of him as we were.”

“But if I never met him then none of this would happened.”

“Y/n, I think Jeongin would have come into your life one way or another,” Chan said

“But—”

“No buts. He’s criminally insane and is where he belongs. None of this is your fault.”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Of course.”

Chan moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. He turned on a comfort movie per her request till Changbin got back. The two let her shower and ordered dinner for the three of them, checking on her every so often.

Nights were the worst for her. Most of the time she didn’t sleep, when she did she’d have nightmares. Chan and Changbin both offered to stay with her but the thought of sharing a bed with someone after her ex was worse. They both understood and gave her her space. Eventually, Felix and Hyunjin came around. Telling her they didn’t blame her for what happened, just glad she got out.

The guys all helped her as best they could. Even helping her find a therapist and getting back to her normal life. Y/n was lucky her old job understood what happened and welcomed her back into the company, with a remote position till she was ready to come back to the office on her own. She wasn’t going to complain— especially with the pay raise.

Y/n was in the middle of working when Changbin knocked on her door. “You got a second?”

“Yeah,” Y/n said as she turned to him

“Minho texted me earlier and said Seungmin was getting discharged from the hospital. Felix wants to do something small at one of our places for everyone getting out of the hospital. Chan offered for us to do it here as long as you’re okay with it,” Changbin said

“Something small?” Y/n asked for conformation

“Yeah. A movie night or something.”

“Okay. I’ll let them know. Also, Seungmin’s talking again and he gave his statement but he does want to talk to you too.”

“Why…?”

“I don’t know. Minho didn’t tell me much. Just that he wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay…”

“I don’t think it’s going to be bad Y/n. You guys both went through something traumatic. It might help for you guys to talk about it to someone who understands.

Y/n nodded before he left her to finish up her work. The movie night was planned for the end of the week when everyone was free. The group ordered pizza— something simple— and had a list of movies to watch. Y/n stuck next to Changbin for most of the first movie.

She looked down at her phone as it vibrated with a text notification

Seungmin: I don't want to disturb the movie but can we talk?

maybe outside?

Y/n: yeah

The two quietly got up and went outside. It was starting to cool off from the afternoon sun as they sat at a small table that was outside.

“How have you been?” Y/n asked

“Better i guess. How about you?” Seungmin asked

“Better. Therapy helps a bit.”

Seungmin nodded, “I’m sorry Y/n.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Back when we broke up, about a month before, I had met Jeongin. He’d seemed normal and harmless at the time but it was a short lived friendship. He’d threatened me to break up with you when I mentioned wanting to propose to you. I hadn’t told him much about you but he seemed to know everything about you and our relationship. I thought he was joking then he…”

“Seung…”

“He’d pulled a gun on me. He watched me send the break up text then told me I wasn’t going to see you again and I guess that’s when I was technically kidnapped?”

“Wait. He had you for almost a year and a half?”

“Yeah… He threatened to kill me a lot but I think he got off on the idea of making me watch you two.” “Wait, what do you mean watch?”

“The police didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He had security cameras in the cabin and your place. For a year he forced me to watch the two of you together and in the cabin.”

Y/n sat back, taking in the info. She felt disgusted with herself knowing that.

“He’d come down to the cellar because I was trying to pull the chains off the wall to get out. I saw you send the text on the cameras and tried distracting him longer in case someone immediately showed up.”

“He kept bringing you up… that night he thought I was thinking about you when we were—“

“You don’t have to relive it Y/n. I watched him do it to you for a month. I just never had the audio for it.”

“I'm sorry, Min.”

“This is not your fault, Y/n. I should have done something to protect you and I didn’t.”

“He threatened your life Min. What were you supposed to do?”

“Anything other than what happened. It still keeps me up at night knowing I —“

“Min,” Y/n grabbed his hand, holding it in hers, “He had a gun on you. You couldn’t have done anything.”

Seungmin looked down at their hands and covered hers with his other, “Doesn’t stop me wishing I could go back in time and stop this from ever happening.”

“We can’t though. Just have to try and get past it.”

Seungmin nodded and squeezed her hands. Y/n stood and offered him a hug. Seungmin gladly accepted and wrapped his arms around her tightly

“How about we help each other heal?”

“I’d like that.”

Y/n pulled away and looked at him. “You were going to propose?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” Seungmin smiled before they heard a bang behind them.

Both looked after getting a bit freighted from the noise and saw their friends. Watching them.

“I’m going to kick their asses,” Seungmin groaned

Y/n giggled, seeing the old Seungmin was still there.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST TIP JAR

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#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #skz #skz x reader #skz x reader smut #skz smut #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x reader smut #yang jeongin smut #i.n x reader #i.n x reader smut #i.n smut

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realpokemon · 1 year

Note

Help there is a galvantula on my window how do I get rid of it?

if you've got a good pokéball-arm then you can probably huck an old flashlight or battery set as far as you can out of a different window and it'll take chase. BE FAST THOUGH. galvantula are quick motherfuckers and they are Not human-safe

see this is what happen when you don't report joltik nests because theyre too cute to get rid of

#pokemon #unreality #pkmn irl

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hellishjoel · 1 year

Text

seven days, six nights

5.6k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist

summary: You get jumped in the QZ after a deal gone south and hide yourself from Joel to keep him safe. After eventually finding you and learning the truth behind your injuries, he heals you and promises revenge.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), post-outbreak Joel, living in the Boston QZ, somewhat established relationship, mentions of falling ill, mentions of hunger/starvation, mentions of weapons, mentions of sleeplessness, descriptions of a fight/brief assault, descriptions of bodily injury, talking about medical shit (and I ain't no doctor, I used google, don't sue me) thoughts and descriptions of murder (… isn’t he just so dreamy?), angst, light fluff at the end, half-ass edited (apologies in advance)

A/N: So happy to practice some post-outbreak writing! Enjoy this angsty one shot (inspired by this lovely ask!) that I fuckin loved writing. Dedicating this to @macfrog, as I pictured this entire plot with pixel Joel.

“Joel, I’m so sorry, I lost you the battery-” “Someone stole it from you.” He corrects, shaking his head as a sinking feeling washes over you. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel a droplet of water land on your nose. You glance up at the sky, seeing the clear summer day has turned into dark clouds overhead threatening to flood the city in rain. Joel doesn’t look up, he stays watching you. You can’t seem to meet his eye contact. “But the battery-” “Don’t care about the battery right now, care about you.”

Joel doesn’t know where you’ve been. You haven’t returned to his apartment in the QZ for days. He keeps track. Every time the sun rises and shines blistering beams of light into the quiet apartment until the moon replaces it and casts light silver streaks between the torn-up pieces of newspaper taped to the windows. Another day gone.

You had a routine. Make the smaller drops or pickups on your own, return to Joel, and report back to him with anything you think he might find useful or interesting. Five days ago, he sent you off to negotiate a truck battery with that West End District piece of shit, Robert. He shouldn’t have let you go alone. Fucking smugglers, you couldn’t trust any of them. Hell, Joel was even surprised you trusted him at first. He regretted not insisting on being by your side, even if it was just as your personal attack dog to keep Robert on his toes.

Despite Boston being one of the more “well-managed” QZs to still exist, the black market that emerged from it was just as strong. That’s where Joel came in. He figured if he could smuggle himself into one of the most protected quarantine zones in the country, he could smuggle just about anything else.

Drugs, weapons, ammunition, illegally forged paperwork, counterfeit ration cards, you name it, and Joel could work it in or out of the city. Joel’s reputation was usually enough to keep you both out of imminent danger as he became popular with not only the inhabitants of the QZ, but also with fellow smugglers. You all needed each other to stay alive, in one way or another.

Don’t be mistaken; the Boston QZ wasn’t perfect. It went through its fair share of scares. Food sources dwindled occasionally, leaving people angry, starving, and rebellious. Fireflies were a constant nag on depleting military resources. The fighting never truly stopped. This partially made Joel’s life easier. When times got tough, people searched for Joel to procure particular goods to help keep them afloat or, more importantly, alive.

That’s the problem Joel ran into after spending a night in FEDRA lock up. He was the one in need of supplies.

Joel was sick. Not infected sick, not cordyceps sick, some kind of infection he got from poor sanitation in the lock-up that attacked its way through an open wound Joel had gotten. He didn’t know if it was from work duty or from the recent street attacks, hence his stay in the FEDRA lockup. No matter where he got it from, an infection in the bloodstream wasn’t easily curable.

The doctors, what very few the QZ had, were scarcely treating the sick due to a lack of supplies. And Joel was only getting worse.

He was fighting a high fever, his breathing was fucked, as was his heart rate. Only a few days into his symptoms, he was crashing. He was damn near on the devil’s doorstep. He wasn’t made for heaven’s gates.

Joel didn’t have friends in the QZ, but there were certain high-powered people who needed items smuggled, too. And the guards paid him well to keep his mouth shut about what he saw going in and out of those gates after curfew. That’s why when one of his more popular clients heard Joel was an inch from death, they sent you.

You burst through his apartment, the door nearly flying off its hinges as you fled to his bedside. He pushed you away with what little strength he had at first, the infection was making him lose his damn mind. His skin was scarlet red, and he was clammy with sweat. He didn’t know you, you didn’t know him. But you weren’t going to let him die.

“Joel, I’m here to help you, hold still.”

Then you started your search, tearing Joel’s clothes off one by one until you found the sizeable cut on his upper bicep near his shoulder, a huge scrape from a metal blade that had gotten infected. The man had tons of scars, all in varying sizes, shapes, and places on his body. You didn’t know his past, but his body told his story. He was a fighter.

Your fear was how far into sepsis Joel was. Any further or even just a few hours later, you might have witnessed his organs begin shutting down.

Despite his hazy state, Joel was struck by your amount of supplies. You weren’t a Boston QZ doctor, he would remember a face like yours. It took a smuggler to know a smuggler, and you dealt in medical supplies.

Joel passed out not long after you got there. You caught him up in the morning, you never left his side. You monitored him, kept checking his vitals, pumped him with water, shoved antibiotics down his throat, cleaned his wound before it could fester anymore, and tried to regulate his body temperature. This could have been a lot worse. It should have been a lot worse.

This was your first time experiencing Joel Miller’s tenacious stubbornness. He wouldn’t fucking die, not last night, and not today.

A few weeks later, with Joel improving, he picked up on you around town. The way you blended in with just about everyone else. Not much slipped past Joel these days with his eyes like that of an eagle. But you slipped right through his fingers, didn’t even know you existed, despite running the same territory.

That’s when he decided he wanted someone like you on his team. Not just for your medical skills, but the type of supplies you ran was in high demand. You never did tell him where you got it, or how it was funded, all he had to know was that you were in. And you have been in ever since.

Joel introduced you to heavier smuggling, like weapons and bundles of cash. Even people for the right price. He taught you how to make fake documents of verification and how to forge other paperwork. This was a lot bigger compared to your clean syringes and medicine.

You learned a lot from each other. You taught Joel patience, and to thank you for saving his life, he taught you how to orgasm in less than five minutes.

The relationship you shared, if you could even call it that, wasn’t strictly a romantic one. Both of you were too guarded for something like that. But also, life was too short and unpredictable right now not to crave pleasure to erase the pain from the past.

It was hard to admit, considering how independent you’ve grown since being accepted into the Boston QZ, but you were thinking about Joel in ways far beyond a slightly romantic relationship. He had protected you and cared for you in the Joel sort of way that’s hard to read but you know exists.

Joel worked extra hours to hand you off extra ration cards, shaking his head and not looking at you when he said it was no big deal, just take’em. Or when he didn’t want you to stay in spare housing, he offered to let you live with him in his nicer, non-shared apartment. It was a small slice of heaven in this fucked up world. You liked him, hell, maybe it was more than like.

That’s why when you got jumped by Robert’s guys on the way back to Joel’s with the truck battery, they damn near killed you. They left you passed out in the alley. Robbed you of your ration cards, stole back the battery, smashed your head so hard into the brick wall you had passed out. All you wanted to do when you came to was crawl to Joel. So you did. You were outside his door, beaten and bruised, about to knock. Then you just stood there and spiraled.

You listened from the other side of Joel’s door to the floorboards creaking as he paced the old wooden beams. You were late and left him worried. He was waiting for you to come home.

The thought made your stomach twist. You looked like shit. You knew what Joel was capable of. One look at your bruised and bloodied face would send him flying down the street with a rifle in his hands and a pistol shoved in the back of his jeans. You couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt in a war with Robert.

Joel was smart, a hell of a lot smarter than Robert, but their smuggling operations varied greatly. Robert was an arms dealer, with henchmen all around the QZ. Joel only worked with a handful of people, he kept his circle small. If Joel went after Robert, you were more likely to find him dead in the street than anything else. And you couldn’t do that to Joel, not after all he’s done for you.

If Joel saw you hurt, he would kill Robert. He’d kill anyone that laid a finger on you. No one touches what’s Joel’s. Not merchandise, not weapons, not the pills he smuggles in and out of the QZ, and certainly not you.

So you tiptoe back down the stairs and run to the spare housing blocks just before the curfew alarm sounds. What Joel doesn’t know won’t get him killed.

---

Joel stands in line during the heat of summer, ration cards stuffed in his back pocket as he waits with others in the queue for a tray and some food. The dining hall was packed, and by the looks of other people’s trays, the food was low again. All he can think about is how he worked extra shifts all last week to get more ration cards for both of you. Without these cards, you were going hungry. You were supposed to be by his side, where were you?

By day six, Joel was restless. He didn’t realize how accustomed he had grown to having you in bed beside him. All he could picture during his sleepless nights was his body spooned in behind yours, the heavy weight of his arm curled around your waist, being able to sense even the tiniest of movements. You’d push off his arm in the middle of the night, telling him that you just needed to use the bathroom or get some water.

It wasn’t always like that, though. Sometimes, you have nightmares. Ones that left you shooting up straight in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, crawling backward in bed like something or someone was chasing you. Joel didn’t know everything about your past and vice versa, but he knew wherever you came from before Boston was a different form of hell. He would hold you in his arms, console you, wipe your hot tears, lay your head on the warmth of his chest, and tell you to level out your breathing by listening to the beat of his heart. He held you in his arms until you eventually fell back asleep. Most of the time, you’d wake up and wouldn’t remember a thing.

What if nothing was wrong with you, and you just realized you didn’t want to be with someone as broken and battered as Joel? He didn’t make being in his company easy. He gave you a lot of shit, pushed you to the limits, told you on more than a handful of occasions he just wanted to be left alone. You’d ask about his daughter, the one he sparsely spoke about, and he’d bark at you until you regretted even thinking about her. He didn’t make things easy on you, but Joel did care about you. Even if he was shit at showing it.

He pushed you away, maybe you took the hint and left him.

On day seven, he started asking around about you, something he saved as a last resort. The less you two were seen together, the better. You had him worried sick, and he was damn near ready to raid Robert’s warehouse to see if he had taken you, made you his girl against your will.

That was until he caught a glimpse of you going past the market. It didn’t take much, he recognized your figure and trailed you with his eyes. You were walking towards spare housing, with a heavy backpack and a sweatshirt on. Your arms were wrapped securely around you, and your head was down.

He navigated through the crowds, jaw tight, putting down heavy steps on the broken gravel road as he pushed people out of his way with a guided hand on their shoulder. He followed you out of the crowd and down the street lined with stone barricades and rubble from a recent building that was raided by patrol on the hunt for Fireflies. You turned sharply down an alleyway, and Joel followed you, needing to see if you were okay, looking for answers.

As soon as Joel took the alley, he was attacked and harshly shoved backward, his shoulder blades smacking the red brick wall behind him. A small switchblade was then shoved against the protruding vein in his neck, heated puffs of breath leaving him. He initially panicked in the moment, his hand tightening around the wrist that held him there.

“Why the hell are you following me?” You bark at him, head still lowered. Joel’s eyes narrow at the sound of your voice.

He speaks your name.

Your strength relaxes, and you lift your head up to see you had pinned Joel. Shit, you thought one of Robert’s men was following you from town. You let out an exhausted breath of relief.

“You’re really holdin’ me up with the knife I gave you?” Joel asks. He smacks the back of your hand, reflexes making your fist open up and lose the grip on your switchblade. Joel snags it with his free hand and glares at you. He takes the opportunity to shove your forearm off his chest, the one that was pinning him against the wall, and sending you a few paces back from the force he exerts. He hesitates but folds the blade back into the handle, and offers it back to you.

You let out a sigh of relief to see that it was just Joel. But this was still a problem.

You retrieve the switchblade you accidentally surrendered to him and stuff it into your sweatshirt pocket. You cross your arms and look away to the entrance of the alley. “What the hell are you doing following me, Joel?”

He lets out a scoff through his nose and shoots daggers out of his eyes that you won’t meet. “What the hell am I doin’? Where the hell have you been?” He tries not to bark so loud. You won’t stop staring at the entrance of the alley, and Joel’s not sure if you’re thinking about running or thinking about being ambushed.

He grabs your arm and drags you further into the alley, sunset on the horizon. He brings you to the back of an old school that was ready to collapse. He pushes you back against the wall and stands close, too close.

“Answer me, what the hell happened to you?” His voice shoots goosebumps across your skin, low and growling for answers.

The grip he has on your arm tightens and washes a flood of heat over your injured arm. Your mouth hisses with hurt, trying to breathe through the pain. You shake him off of you and clutch your arm lightly. “‘M fine, Joel, I can manage.”

You’re speaking with a break in your voice that Joel can’t quite place. The hood you’re wearing is working overtime to shield your face.

He pauses before he slowly looks over you. “Why are you wearin’ a sweatshirt in the middle of summer?”

The silence he’s met with only leaves him more curious. What are you hiding? He swiftly pushes the hood off your head before you can stop him, and he’s not prepared for what he sees.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his large hands delicately coming up and caressing your cheeks.

You sigh and roll your eyes. The skin around your right eye is blueish-purple. You lightly twinged at the contact, no matter how delicate he was being. “It’s not as bad as it seems, it doesn’t hurt-”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” Joel mutters, lightly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger as he angles your face from left to right, allowing him to get a full look at the damage done to you. You glance down at his broken watch for comfort, the band fraying and the glass shattered, but he still wore it.

You can’t exactly explain why your lower lip starts to wobble. It was so hard to stay away from Joel, to distance yourself, but it was all for keeping him safe. Your small fists lightly clutch the button-up shirt he’s wearing around his abdomen, finally feeling a slight sense of security.

“Joel, I’m so sorry, I lost you the battery.”

“Someone stole it from you.” He corrects, shaking his head as a sinking feeling washes over you. Your eyelashes flutter as you feel a droplet of water land on your nose. You glance up at the sky, seeing the clear summer day has turned into dark clouds overhead threatening to flood the city in rain. Joel doesn’t look up, he stays watching you.

You can’t seem to meet his eye contact. “But the battery-”

“Don’t care about the battery right now, care about you.” His thumb gently examines the cut on your lip. You curl it inwards to stray from his touch. “Robert do this to you? His guys?” Joel’s asking accusingly, and you know better than to lie to him. You swallow the growing lump in your throat and gently nod, blinking back tears.

His face grows taut with anger, his brows furrowing and the creases in his forehead are set in stone. His jaw is clamped shut while he grits his teeth. Joel’s probably thinking of a million scenarios of how to put Robert down. Which way would last the longest, string out the torture, make him apologize to you, and beg for his life. Make him apologize to Joel for ever touching a hand on what was his.

“Joel, you need to take a breath. Focus.” The last thing you wanted was for Joel to go on a rampage tonight in search of Robert. “I’m fine, this shit happens. We’ll get back on track and-”

“Can’t believe they let you live.” He murmurs, taking a look at the damage that he can visibly see before lightly sighing and releasing your face. You’re quick to pull the hood back up and cross your arms in front of you as some sort of shield.

His eyes are sunken in, his chest is lightly heaving as he tries to sort through his muddled thoughts. The rain is starting to scatter more, hitting your muddy sneakers and Joel’s dark denim shirt. The setting sun meant curfew was just around the corner.

“Come on. We’re goin’ home. Need to take a look at you in the light." You hesitate but his eyes are pleading for you to just let him take care of you. So you let him.

---

You travel up the same staircase you did just a week ago, limping and injured, broken and feeling guilty. Joel needed that battery for the truck. He was going to leave Boston and go to find his brother, Tommy. Neither of you had discussed if you would come with. For Joel, you think you might do just about anything for him if he asked.

He stabs his key into the lock of his door. You hear a crying baby in a neighboring apartment, it was probably startled awake by the blaring of the curfew alarm. Lightning and thunder crack outside as Joel pushes open the door. You follow him inside and set down your backpack by the door like you usually do. Another strike of lightning makes his apartment flood itself with white-silver streaks of light, if only for a moment. Joel flips the lock back into place and hits the switch to the one overhead light in between the kitchen and the living room. You’re sweating up a storm in your sweatshirt.

Though living in Boston’s QZ wasn’t great, you had to admit that not every quarantine zone had clean water and electricity. Joel had an old standing oscillating fan that was stationed at the foot of his bed during the summers since he ran so warm all the time. He said he traded about four or five meals worth of ration cards to get it, said that it was considered a steal. You shed the heavy material of your sweatshirt and sit tiredly down at the end of his bed, closing your eyes as the fan wicks away your sweat and cools your face.

Living in spare housing the past week was hell. You barely slept. The homeless, sick, and injured all found their way to spare housing. You weren’t safe there. And you didn’t have any ration cards to your name. You had to trade one singular, perfectly clean syringe to afford four rolls of bread. It was all you could get at the time being. Everyone was fighting for work, knowing ration cards and food were low. Since you were still somewhat new to the QZ, you weren’t given privileges. You laid on a nasty, old cot for a week. Joel’s small apartment was heaven. The solitude was peaceful.

Joel was standing at the sink, water running over a cloth as he stared down at the water circling the drain. He needed to take a breath, set his anger aside, and get you to talk.

Joel wrings out the rag, loose droplets of water splattering in the sink before he sits down at his small wooden kitchen table. “C’mere.” He whispers, taking your attention away from the fan. You slowly stand up and make your way to the table under the central light in his living room, sighing softly as you slowly sink into the accompanying chair. Now in the light, he observes your injuries closer.

Without your sweatshirt on, he can see bruises and scrapes along your arms, residual blood on your knuckles and under your nails. His little fighter. He notes that your tanktop is a bit shredded, and he fears the worst.

You catch him staring and intervene. “Don’t worry. I didn’t let them get close enough to touch me like that.” You glance down at the sweaty tank top and lightly tug on the hole. “Just got this while I was running away, trying to hop a fence.”

Joel frowns and slowly works his eyes over you. “‘S not like you to get caught. You’re pretty damn fast.”

You held down a bubble of laughter as your fingers played with the fraying material of your top. “Yeah, well, they already got one or two good hits on me, so I was a little hazy.” Your words don’t settle him. They infuriate him.

He brings his attention to your face. Your eye must have been swollen at one point, but it wasn’t anymore. The puffiness had gone down, and the bruises were in their final stages of healing. You have another more prominent bruise on your cheekbone, black and blue, but it’s not broken. That’s good. The cut on your eyebrow and the matching one on your lip catches his attention. A man with a ring.

“Red hair? Crooked nose, missing a front tooth?”

You blink a few times rapidly, curious as to how the hell Joel knew the characteristics of one of your attackers.

“How did you…” You start to say until your words trail off, shaking your head in confusion.

Joel sneers lightly and brings the wet rag up to gently dab at the cut on your lip. “Not a lot of men are stupid enough to wear a ring that basically signs their name on whoever’s face they’re knocking in.” How he describes your fight makes you flinch and shift uncomfortably in your chair, evading his eye contact. “Sorry.” He mutters quietly. “His name is Chase, Jase, somethin’ stupid like that. One of Robert’s guys.” Joel’s words lightly flitter off as he shifts his attention to your lip once more.

It was still swollen and angry. You probably tried to eat with it still agitated and delayed its healing. But you know this already. You ate because you didn’t have a choice. It was that, or starve. He hated knowing you were roaming the streets in a horrible hunger, especially when he had ration cards waiting for you at home.

Your eyes twitch closed as Joel’s wet rag rinses the blood out of the cut on your lip, the old excess blood lightly trickling into your mouth. Your tastebuds catch the tang of metallic and salt. You did what you could with the medical supplies you had, but you didn’t want to waste on yourself what you could potentially sell. If you were avoiding Joel for a while, you needed to be able to make trades of your own. You did use some supplies to clean the cut on your head. You were lucky the wall you were thrown into didn’t leave you with a concussion.

Joel is still wrestling with why the hell you didn’t come home, why he had to go out and find you. Why, why, why? Why did he let you go alone? Why did the deal go south? A terrible feeling soured his stomach. Robert’s men were ruthless, they must have felt kind enough to let you live. Or it was a message to Joel from Robert. You’re next.

Joel wasn’t scared of Robert, but for them to be scared of a young woman was a mystery for the masses.

He tosses the rag down on the table and stands up. “I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.” He grunts up, his lips snarling and his nostrils flaring in heated fury.

He storms to the kitchen and impatiently fills up a glass of water. Joel was fantasizing about plunging his thumbs into Robert’s eye sockets and squeezing until his head turned into mush. Or maybe Joel could take him to the Eastern district, throw him in the Massachusetts Bay, and hold him underwater, only bringing him up from the brink of drowning before pushing him down again. And again. And again.

Your sweet voice breaks Joel’s murderous thoughts. “Joel, I owe you the battery, and I promise I’ll find another one. Just give me a little time and-”

Joel slams the glass of water on the counter, the clatter of it echoing around the room. “Don’t care about the damn battery!” His back is to you, broad and strong shoulders heaving lightly as his head hangs low. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter. “Thought they fuckin’ kidnapped you! Or worse!”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, your lower lip wobbling once more as he slowly starts shaking his head.

“I almost lost you, and it’s my fault.”

Your eyes soften at his words. He’s felt this way before, and he’s been haunted by the mistake ever since. His daughter, you think.

His low, southern drawl makes you focus on him once more. “Tell me why you hid. Why didn’t you come to me? We could have figured things out, for fuck’s sake!” He shouts as he turns to face you, his body falling back into the counter as he crosses his arms.

Your chest swells with heavy emotion. You stand up so fast from your chair that its sent scraping backward. “I did come here! I did! I heard you inside and I..” you pause and shake your head, still finding your voice.

“I was scared you’d be upset with me letting someone steal the battery, I was afraid you’d go after Robert and get yourself fucking-- killed, Joel! I don’t want you to die, okay? I need you!”

“And I need you!” He shouts back, lips parted with heavy breaths, both of you trying to settle with the newly shared revelation.

You both stare at each other from across the room, watching as Joel’s jaw slowly begins to click loose. He shoves himself up off the counter and closes the distance between you two. You hesitantly take a step back, and he pauses his footsteps. His eyes soften, and he looks as broken as you do.

“Please,” he pleads, gently shaking his head. “Would never hurt you, baby.” He puts his hand out, a gesture of kindness and warmth that you’d missed all week, yet you still hesitate. You almost wait too long, he’s already reeling his hand back into his side.

“Joel,” you whisper with soft relief. You eagerly take a few steps forward, ignoring his hand, and gently settle your head on his chest as you tightly squeeze your arms around his lower back. You close your eyes and melt into him, finding solace in Joel’s embrace.

Joel’s arms stay hovering in the air for a moment, lips parted as he looks down at the top of your head. He shames himself for even hesitating. He puts one hand on the side of your head and holds you to his chest, while the other settles low on your back. He breaths peacefully for the first time in a week.

You stay like that for who knows how long. He’s warm, and you feel protected. You sink into his arms, he takes on your weight. He walks you backward to the foot of his bed once more, letting you delicately fall back into the mattress. You watch with tired eyes as he unties the laces of your sneakers, one after the other. He shucks down your jeans, making you giggle.

“Joel, you don’t wanna fuck me right now, I smell like spare housing.”

The right side of his mouth twitches up as he shakes his head at you. “I know you do. ‘M takin’ you to shower.”

You sit up on your elbows as you smile a bit bashfully at him. “Good. Because I’m too sore to fool around anyway.” You whisper with a teasing smile as you grab the bottom of your tank top, peeling it up and off of your sticky skin. Joel tries not to stare. You’re not sure if he’s clocking your naked figure or the bruising around your ribs and legs.

You’d need some time to heal. Joel knows you do. While you shower, he makes you as big of a feast he can muster up with the canned goods he has in his cupboards. You try to eat the first real meal you’ve had in a week slowly, to savor the taste, but you end up shoveling your spoon into the bowl and scraping it clean.

Joel’s eyes are on you the whole time, watching you, observing you. He won’t let you out of his sight for a while, but maybe that’s what’s good for you. You meet his gaze and he speaks a silent vow. We’ll find Robert, steal the battery back, then kill him and anyone else who laid a finger on you. He nods. You nod too.

Joel’s not sure how late it is by the time you two fall into bed together. He doesn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to him, but he says it in the way he holds you. Back in his arms, he’s more alert of how sore you are from your fight. He gently cups your face, watching your eyes slowly flutter closed with long blinks. You must be so tired. And he doesn’t want to keep you awake. He’s afraid to look away, like if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll disappear again.

He speaks your name and gently stirs you awake. “Hm?” You softly murmur, bringing your hand up and gently feeling over the planes of Joel’s chest, fingers lightly grazing his chest hair.

He looks down at you for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Don’t run away like that again.” His words are stern before he pauses again, lightly pushing some hair behind your ear and touching you like a delicate flower. You watch him attentively. He cups your jawline and angles you to look up at him. “We’re takin’ that battery back, and we’re gettin’ the hell out of here. You hear me?”

Your heart swells at his words. We. You slowly nod in agreement. You feel Joel’s gentle kisses on your forehead and the tip of your nose. You lean up to capture his lips, but he falters by an inch. A confused expression crosses your face.

“You’re hurt.” He mutters, referring to the cut on your lip. Don’t wanna hurt ya, sweet girl.

You roll your eyes and take his face in your small hands. “Don’t care.” You whisper before you pull him in, and the two of you share a featherlight kiss. You let it last, both of you soaking it in after a week apart. A week too long.

Joel’s the first to pull away, giving you a playful little glare. The bruising on your face reminds him of the boxing movies he grew up watching. “Easy, Rocky.”

You look at him confused and cock your head. “Who?”

He rolls his eyes at you and sighs, gently running his hand down your side. “Go to sleep. I’ll teach you about Rocky one through five tomorrow. D’you at least get a few good hits on Robert or his guys?”

You hum quietly and let your eyes dip closed. “Mhm.”

“Like I taught ya?”

“Just like you taught me. Gave ‘em the ole left, right, goodnight." You bring up your fists to demonstrate. "Made Robert’s nose bleed, think I broke it.”

Your head falls into Joel’s chest, feeling it rumble with laughter and a sense of pride. “That’s my girl.”

His body shields you from the outside world. You sleep like a rock for the rest of the night. You live another day, and so does Joel. But with Joel’s promise, you know Robert’s days are numbered. You’ll be sure of it.

---

here's my masterlist!

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #hellishjoel #joel tlou #tlou #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller age gap #joel miller the last of us #joel miller tlou #pixel joel

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yuutasprincess · 1 year

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Day 3: Ghost Face

Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, object insertion, I have never seen a single scream movie

“It’s like that bad horror movie- I’d survive. Trust me”

The phone feels warm against your palm, its battery fully charged but still plugged in. You watch as the device threatens to overheat before finally deciding to unplug it. “If this is real and a killer shows up I think I’d just book it out of here.” a friend's voice, coming through the phone, sounds muffled with anxiety, and her paranoia starts to rub off on you.

Just last week, the two of you had indulged in a cheesy horror movie marathon, featuring a masked killer on a rampage. The title of the film escapes you, but at this moment, it seems trivial. The aftermath of that movie night lingers as you both discuss the unsettling news that's been floating around. It’s been all over your feed, you can't even mindlessly scroll through twitter without seeing it.

The headlines on every channel this Monday morning are abuzz with reports of a serial killer on the loose. The crimes, however, have occurred nowhere near your neighborhood, and none of the victims' names strike you as familiar or foreboding. It's October, for crying out loud—this is the season for attention-seekers and thrill-seekers to emerge. It's just another typical October where the youthful excitement of Halloween slowly fades into the background, overshadowed by the routine of daily life.

You roll over onto your back, your gaze fixating on the open window. The dimly lit street outside is somewhat eerie, as if it’s watching you. “You’ll be fine they’re nowhere near us, and if they do come to kill us don’t even think about leaving without me.” Laughter bubbles through the phone's speaker, a shared exasperation at the absurdity of the notion. The chances of a killer managing to escape the police and make their way to you specifically seems astronomically low.

With a quick exchange of goodnight wishes, you both hang up, but before you finally drift off to sleep, you spend another hour texting back and forth about the timing of it all. Your eyes are burning, and you're already so comfortable in bed, making it almost unbearable to get up and close the window. Whatever, you always sleep with it open. Nothing has ever come in anyway.

Sleep comes easy, your back turned to the open window, and blankets drawn close to your chest. If you were awake now, you'd undoubtedly take back every nonchalant word you spoke earlier.

A masked figure slips through your open first-floor window. The absurdity of the situation strikes them instantly — seriously, an open window? It's almost laughable. For a moment, they merely stand there, their gloved hands gripping the handle of a grimy knife, as they observe the steady rise and fall of your form. They inch closer, continue to watch as you sleep. Pretty girls like you should sleep with their windows tightly shut and doors locked.

The stained edge of the knife glides smoothly across your blanket, tracing the contours of your form. It follows the gentle dip of your covered waist, ascends to your hip, and then descends along your thigh. The thick sheet keeps you warm, but a sudden cold draft seeps in as your head sinks further into your pillow. In one swift motion, they yank the blanket from your form, revealing your Halloween pajama pants and the school sweatshirt you're wearing. Beneath their mask, a sinister smile forms as they take in the sight.

Their fingers delicately trace down your knee, then continue along your shin, the knife now resting lightly at your thigh while their free hand squeezes your ankle. It's a touch just firm enough to elicit a subtle twitch from your foot— you’re a deep sleeper. With firm hands, they grasp your hips and deftly roll you onto your back. The knife spins idly at the waistband of your pajama pants before slipping beneath the fabric and tugging upward, causing it to tear. It's a satisfying, controlled rip, not enough to expose you entirely, but a reminder that they could easily slice those pajamas away if they chose to do so.

You stir slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. You make a feeble attempt to roll over again, but they swiftly move you back into place. The knife now rests flat on your stomach, their hands gripping your pants to pull at the small tear, causing the sound of ripping seams to fill the room. The tearing continues all the way down to your mound, panties on display as they pull at the newly discovered clothing.

Picking up the knife they hold the blade, rounded handle slipping between your thighs to press against your pussy. They move it up and back down slowly, tracing your labia through your panties until a damp spot can be seen in the dark. Pushing the knife against your entrance the fabric stretches, soaking further as they start to fuck you through your panties.

It’s slow movement at first, barely dipping into your cunt but enough so your underwear rubs your clit until it’s harsh forceful thrusting. Your thighs try to close, eyebrows furrowing as they pant above you, mask amplifying their heavy breathing as they watch your panties stretch against the handle of the knife and sink into your hungry pussy. Free hand moving up to clamp against your mouth when you start to wake.

“Not a word or I’ll shove the other side of my knife in this slutty cunt.” Their voice is raspy, a whisper in the night but so loud in your ear that it sends tremors through your body. You’re disoriented, mind hazy with sleep but rushing to wake up as there’s a burning between your thighs. You groan into his hand, eyes struggling to stay open as the rough material of your underwear scratches your clit with each deep shove of the knife.

Pulling the blade away from your cunt they spin it in their hand, sharp edge at your collar as they rip your shirt clean off you. With a hand still over your mouth they rip up your clothes, pajamas a mess on the floor and panties torn to shreds, “Fuck, look at you.” Forcing your thighs apart they lay the knife between them, “Keep those legs spread or you’ll cut yourself.” Their laugh is sinister, makes your teeth clench as tears gather at the corner of your eyes.

Gloved fingers skim your cunt, arousal sticking to the black fabric and they moan, loud. It feels disgustingly good, body betraying you as they force two fingers into your pussy and curl them up in a ‘come here’ motion. The dark eyes of the mask stare down at you, ghost face holding your gaze as they work another finger into you, forearm twisting so they can roll their thumb over your clit.

You writhe under them, knees trying to close and knife pricking your thigh as a reminder. Their fingers leave you too fast, orgasm ruined as they pick up the blade and line up the handle with your hole, “Let’s see how well this messy cunt can take my favorite knife.” Chuckling deeply they bully the handle into you, air knocked out of your lungs at the stretch. You’re babbling under his hand, tears slipping down the side of your face as you whine.

“If you’re good I’ll give you something bigger before killing you.” Their words make you choke back a cry, back arching as they destroy your insides with the handle of the knife, their hand wrapped around the actual blade as they pull out completely before sinking the whole thing back in. The noise makes your cringe, eyes rolling as you gush around a dirty knife that’s stained with blood.

Pulling their hand from your mouth they push their face to yours, mask obscuring your vision as they shove three fingers down your throat until you're gagging. “Don’t choke now, that mouth of yours has to clean my knife.” You gargle pathetically, eyes clamping shut as you cum around their blade, rough thrusts never ceasing until you're kicking at their hips and trying to slide your body up the bed away from them.

They pull the knife out slowly, your pussy aching at the sudden emptiness. “Lick it clean.” Pulling their fingers away from your tongue and bringing them down to your spent cunt they shove the knife into your gasping mouth. They rub your clit in tight circles while you suck desperately at the cum coated knife, “If you do a good job I might keep you around.” Laughing over your whines, their hands leave you, weapon tossed onto your nightstand as they grip under your knees. “Fuck, I’m going to ruin you.”

That mask is all you see for the rest of the night through watery eyes, that Ghost face.

#I saw the latest one actually #BUT LIKE HALF OF IT #tw: noncon #tw: somnophilia #ghost face x reader #ghost face smut #ghost face x y/n #kinktober

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kaiser-author-san-iii · 2 years

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Star light, Star bright | Fatui Harbingers x Creator!(Female)Reader

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Not beta read or proofed, we die like signora.

I tried to be a bit gender-neutral here, but I might have slipped. Nephew does call you auntie qwq

Tags/warnings: female reader, god!reader, cult AU

Next>>

Tumbling down the steep hill and narrowly avoiding the cliff that just dove off, the car rolled to a stop as you opened your eyes slowly, your arms still around your nephew as a sort of shield for him as he sobbed. Gently and quietly soothing him as you rubbed his back, you soon looked around, even checking him to be sure that he was free of any injuries, which he thankfully was.

"Shh. It's okay, Nugget. It's okay."

You attempted to sound gentle while not wincing in pain. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to unbuckle the seat belt and jump to the back to protect him despite him being in the car seat as well. His sobs and concern for his aunt would have been heard if one got too close to the car, but it was not the time to wallow in such a state.

You looked around, trying to find an exit to make.

Kicking down glass windows, especially the windshield, seemed so much easier in the movies so, using common sense, you opted in opening the back door, realizing just how cold it was out there. Quickly bundling up and gathering all the necessities: bags, blankets, food, emergency kits, and your nephew's entertainment bag, the two of you decided to march on to the closest town or at least to the main road they were taking before the car crash.

Giving your nephew one of the spare blankets, you wrapped it around him, holding back a shriek of joy at how adorable he looked. He looked like a penguin. But now was not the time to think about it as you bit your tongue from crying out from the forming bruises on your body, or even the icy air hitting your cuts.

Pulling out your phone to at least call the emergency line to at least report the incident and awaited for someone to answer. Never having called the emergency line before, you didn't know what to expect but it was definitely not the dial-up tone of the internet in the early 2000s.

It was quite concerning.

But not so much as the full battery on it.

The no signal was a common thing in the mountains, especially during the snowy days. But the full battery was a whole other thing as you clearly remembered it being at 30% at the store.

Strange.

"Alright, Nugget. Let's go and find someplace warm to wait." Holding onto his hand, the two of you trudged along the snow, walking toward where you thought the main road was at, though when you got there, nothing.

Alright, plan b: look for a line of smoke. Smoke meant campfire, and campfire meant people. People meant help and warmth until then.

Or death if it involved a serial killer

It seemed like forever to get to the line of smoke as you then had to carry your nephew as he had started growing tired, but you never let him take the blanket off. You finally hiked over the hill and were happy but it was short-lived as the people surrounding the fire didn't look like any other person you'd seen before. Was that a lady with a slit-open dress? In the middle of winter?? Work it, girl

You winced in pain again, the injury of before seeming to be more than just a cut started to hurt more. But you couldn't rest now or even let your nephew down as it seemed to get colder already. He even started shivering and sneezing, which seemed to alert the group of people (?) by the fire. The one dressed in red, his eyes only showing and a rifle in his hand suddenly pointed at them and you instantly backed away and held onto the shivering bundle.

"Please help me. W-we've been in an accident." You said, trembling as your arms began to tire, shaking and trying to hold onto your nephew until you knew that you both would be safe. The group soon relaxed and walked over to you and gasped. It all seemed blurry at the moment but you could immediately tell that they grew worried and rushed to your side. The woman with the inappropriate winter outfit soon takes your nephew in her arms, revealing your arms to be covered in blood.

The blood was not it's ordinary red though.

Your clothes soaked in golden blood...

"Your Grace!"

-x-

It was chaotic, to say the least when a group of fatui Skirmishers arrived at the palace carrying a sobbing and shivering child and an unconscious person with golden blood covering their arms. The chaos disturbed the peace that the Harbingers inside created and were about to endue their wrath on the offenders when they saw the face of the person they were carrying and the child.

"Your Grace has been hurt!"

"My Lords! Your Grace is injured!"

Feet clattered, chairs scratching the floors as all eleven Harbingers rushed at the one carrying your form, the masked Doctor carefully holding her and rushing towards his lab with the others following suit. Well, that would be the case if it wasn't for the sobs of the child.

"W-where's auntie? Is she okay? She'll be fine, right?" He asked and reached to anyone, holding onto the mirror maiden as she began to soothe the child.

"All will be well, Your Highness." said a soft voice belonging to the third Harbinger, the young boy turned towards a beautiful woman with black hair with some pink locks, her eyes closed though he could hardly tell if she was as she stretched her arms out to him and started to sing. It was beautiful and sleepy but he had no time to rest as he wanted to go to you and make sure you were well.

"Auntie...! I want my auntie! Auntie might die, right? She can't die! She's my auntie! She kept me safe! The meaner crashed into us! It's their fault! If a-auntie dies, I'm blaming that meaner!!"

The air suddenly turned sour, with rage, and anger at the one that possibly harmed their Creator.

"She will not die, Your Highness." said a deep and gruff voice, making the boy look at an older man, seeing him wear half of a mask and walking towards him and the woman that held him.

"We will make sure of it."

A/N: haha~ I did it~ Finally something that involves my favorite group of people. VILLAINS

Let me know if you want more~

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact #fatui harbingers #harbingers x reader #pierro x reader #columbina x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #Signora x reader #tsarista x reader #female reader

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 3 months

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