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#and all rational thoughts left my head
skinreflectsthesun · 10 months
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martsonmars · 2 years
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desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe
#literally the only thing i'm supposed to do is study#am i doing it? nope of course. i have less than a month left to take exams and i should take at least 2 but i haven't opened a book in more#than a month and the thought fills me with dread and i literally physically cannot do it#it's possible that going back to my uni flat would help (it would be a change in scenery for sure) but on wednesday it will be a year since#my father died and there's this fucking church thing and my mother won't force me to stay but i really should. shouldn't i?#after all it's already saturday and i've already wasted 40 days. what's half a week more?#i keep staring at the list of exams and i know that if i spent every waking second studying i could get back on track and graduate when i'm#supposed to graduate but 1. it's not healthy and 2. my brain refuses to study for ONE exam let alone 14 so it's unrealistic#and at this point i should just accept that i'm going to graduate one year late and one year after all my friends because last year i did#absolutely nothing. and last autumn started out great. i moved. i was organised. and then the first week of october my mother was at the#hospital and i had to go home for a week and somehow i let that week screw up my entire semester#and now i'm panicking because i have only 18 days before the exam i'm supposed to take and it doesn't feel enough for everything i have to#study but it's not going to get better if i just let all the days pass without doing anything but i can't i can't i can't#so yeah i should be kind to myself and accept i'll need one additional year for all the exams and take it slowly which is the only way to#actually get things done. but i don't want to. i don't want to tell my mother that i failed at the one thing i'm supposed to be doing#but i really really can't it's hard and i'm failing and my head is screaming that i don't deserve hobbies and yet i keep wasting my days#it's one am and i should either sleep or relax because it's not like i can do anything now and yet i feel like i need to fix my entire life#right this second or i'll explode. i'm so tired of my thoughts.#please ignore all this ^ because i know most of it is irrational or whatever and i DON'T WANT to hear rational things#if you've read until here and really want to say something just tell me that right now i'm allowed to relax#any other comment would make me feel worse#💖💖💖#**one month left to take exams this semester not forever hahaha but then i'd be supposed to take all the remaining exams in the summer#and i can't possibly take 14 exams between now and july which is why i'm panicking (there are other logistically confusing things in what i#said but i wanted to clear this one up at least lmao) (i'm already feeling vaguely better can't you see?)
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE’S MINE | 00
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CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series
word count ┊ 798
author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!
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SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.
He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 
It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 
“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”
Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…
…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 
“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 
Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 
“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 
“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 
The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 
“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”
Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 
He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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targaryenluvs · 10 months
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DELICATE
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
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whore-ibly-hot · 4 months
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Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.
(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)
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Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.
Student scenarios and profiles:
◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.
He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...
"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"
◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.
Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.
"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."
◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.
He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.
He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.
◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.
He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.
Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.
"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.
◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.
Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.
Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.
With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.
Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.
They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.
"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.
All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)
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kaciidubs · 8 months
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Wait Your Turn
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❣ Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 5.7k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Pup, Bub, Kitten, Muse, Jagi[ya], Sunshine, Noona, probably the filthiest thing I've written so far, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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Being in a polyamorous relationship with one of the busiest idol groups meant having to apply schedules to the most mundane parts of your life; which dorm you stay at for the week, who wants to go on solo dates and who wants to do group dates, and most importantly, who's the next to get laid by you and when.
Granted, these types of things are only applied when they're in the midst of a comeback - making sure their work life doesn't interfere with your relationship - but when the dreadful time does come around, the struggle truly begins.
Each of your boys were different in terms of their needs, so the schedule was set to alternate between the needier members having more frequent interactions with you throughout the week while the more independent members cashed their time during off days or weekends.
It was a strange system to adapt to, but you all made it work for the length of the comebacks - though, that doesn't mean it always held up. Some of the boys cracked, some deciding to share their time with you and another boy while others asked for trades in their time slots to see you sooner, but they always did their best not to alter the schedule too much.
That is, until week two came and you were begged for a cuddle session from a certain Aussie leader - Changbin agreeing to save his night for another day since Chris only went out of turn when he was really in his head about something.
You slipped into his room easily, getting bathed in the soft purple lighting of his room as you shut the door behind you. "You okay, Channie?"
He turned onto his side, putting his phone on the small table next to his bed before reaching his hand out, "Yeah, just need you in my arms, love."
Your heart fluttered, obliging his request with a smile as you happily rush to his bed, letting him pull you under the blanket and into his warmth - your darling personal heater who rarely wore anything more than boxer briefs to bed.
It doesn't take long until you're settled underneath him, caged between his arms while his slim hips keeps your legs separated, soft lips pressing to your own with barely hidden intent.
"Christopher," you hum against his lips, pulling away just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, "what are you up to, mister?"
"Need you," he breathed softly, pecking your lips once again before kissing just under your jaw, "need you so bad, baby."
A soft moan floated past your lips as he nipped at your sweet spot, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, "You know it's not your night, baby - we can't."
"No one needs to know, yeah?" His lips continued down, wet kisses left in his wake until he moved back up to your face, eyes lidded and fogged over with lust. "It's just one night, princess, please." Pressing his body against yours, he ground his hips, further enticing you with the feeling of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "Please, princess, just for daddy?"
In all honesty, you should've stuck to the rules, you should've been the voice of reason, but then his lips were on yours again and all thoughts of rationality went out the window.
When he felt you melt into the kiss he sighed a breath of relief, pulling away to sit himself up on his knees, "I'll do all the work, baby, alright? I just need you to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet - we don't want to get caught, do we?"
You shook your head softly, shamelessly checking out his chest under the LED lights, "No, daddy - I'll be quiet."
His right hand caught your chin, bringing your gaze back to his with a knowing smirk, "Good girl."
With that, your fate was sealed with the tangling of limbs, breathless sighs of names, and muffled moans of pleasure.
It wasn't until the next morning that you realized the repercussions of your shared decision, waking up to an empty bed and a wall of texts waiting on your phone that sent chills down your spine.
My Loves - GC Min [Cat Daddy]🐈: Meeting at 3Racha + Artist dorm tonight Sun-Bok ☀️: Yep! Binnie Baby 💪🏻: 👍🏻 My Artist 💌: This'll be fun 🙄 Hannie Jisungie 💘: Do we have to?? I kinda had plans.. Bubs [SeungMongMong] 💕: Han. Read the room. Baby Bread 🍞❣️: 😭😭😭
Judging from the lack of reply from a certain leader, you already knew what the meeting was going to be about.
Wonderful.
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"Do you know why we're gathered here today?"
You wanted to coo at how cute Felix's 'domineering' act was, but you chose to refrain as you sat next to Chris in chairs borrowed from the dining room.
"Um... No?"
Minho clicked his tongue, sharp eyes narrowing in an expression you were all too familiar with, "Are you sure about that, Kitten?"
Pressing your lips into a firm line, you immediately knew that playing innocent was not in your favor.
"Chan?" He now challenged the eldest, the fire in his eyes unwavering.
The black haired man timidly shook his head, not even daring to open his mouth - he was a terrible liar, and everyone knew that.
"Alright, so we're playing this game." Shrugging dismissively, he turned his attention to Hyunjin and gave him a nod.
Without missing a beat, Hyunjin took out his phone and swiped across the screen before putting it down on the coffee table for everyone to witness what would happen next.
You froze at the sound playing from Hyunjin's phone, eyes snapping to Chris as his feigned look of confusion fell to sheepish embarrassment.
Floating through the small speaker were your moans, his moans, and the faint thumping of the bed you had warned him about before the entire scenario started.
"You recorded us?!" Even though he tried to save face, the blush tinting his ears and cheeks was more than a dead giveaway that you'd been caught red handed.
"You fucked her when it wasn't even your turn!" Hyunjin argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You were supposed to be asleep!"
"First of all, I can stay up late as long as I want, and second of all, you two aren't the quietest of fucks in this house!"
"We share a wall and I slept through all of that?!" Jisung suddenly piped up, gesturing wildly to the phone on the table, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"
"I sense we're missing the point here..." Jeongin mumbled, snatching Hyunjin's phone from the table to pause the tantalizing audio.
"Innie's right! The point is," Changbin pointed a finger at their leader, "you tricked my bunny into letting you hit!"
Seungmin scoffed, "Tricked is a strong accusation, your 'bunny' isn't as innocent as she seems, isn't that right, pup?"
As much as you wanted to speak up in defense of yourself, they were completely right; you were in the wrong, no matter how it started and how rewarding the act was, you had broken one of the rules explicitly set for comeback season.
"This isn't all sunshine's fault," Felix butted in, quieting the bickering happening around him, "but it isn't all Chan's fault either - they both did it, so they both need to be punished, right? That's what we normally do when rules are broken, isn't it?"
"Exactly," Minho purred, running a hand through Felix's blond hair in appreciation, "and lucky for you two, we already thought of a punishment."
A chill ran down your spine and you stiffened under his mischievous gaze, noticing Chris opening his mouth to speak from your peripheral but closed it once more.
He may have been their leader at work, but here they were all partners, and the eldest card was virtually useless.
Looking between the two of you, a smug smirk graced Minho's lips as he nodded, "No objections? Good." Turning his gaze to you, he nodded his head, "Clothes off, kitten."
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Apparently, the agreed upon punishment must've been a pact for pure torture for you and Chris; the eldest remaining in the same dining chair he sat in during the meeting, wearing only his boxer briefs with his wrists tied behind his back as part of his personal punishment.
You, however, seemed to get the brunt of the arrangement, laid naked on a blanket spread out over the area rug, a few decorative pillows spread around in case you needed the extra support.
Chris wasn't allowed to touch you or himself, nor was he allowed to cum during any point of the punishment; whereas you were allowed to touch anyone but Chris, and you weren't allowed to cum while the remaining members used their designated day to fuck you out of schedule - just like their wise leader and boyfriend had done the night before.
After some thorough - and quite unfair - prep by Jisung that left your pussy covered in spit and glistening for all of the boys to pay witness, Jeongin shuffled his way between your legs.
"Hi, Noona."
You did your best not to giggle at how causal he was, despite being stark naked and fisting his dick for what was to come next. "Hi, Innie."
"I still think it isn't fair you let Channie Hyung break the rules like that," he pouted, shuffling closer to rub his tip against your awaiting folds, drawing a shivering breath from you in the process.
"I-I know, I'm so-rry!" The feeling of his cock sliding past your walls had your back arching slightly, a low moan floating past your lips as he steadily filled you to the hilt.
He groaned softly, hands anchoring at your hips as he began to thrust into you without abandon, eyes locked onto where you were connected as his tongue just barely poked between his lips.
Your peace of getting used to his fast pace was interrupted with a shadow being cast over your face, the sight of Changbin shuffling into view with his signature smirk curving his lips.
"You don't mind taking two at once, do you, bunny?" He hummed, tapping the head of his dick against your bottom lip for emphasis.
A pitiful whimper escaped you, eyebrows sloping as realization quickly dawned on you - if he was using your mouth, then that meant you wouldn't get to feel that delicious stretch you'd been craving for the past week, yet another punishment.
"C'mon, little bunny, open up for me."
Doing as you were told, you parted your lips to welcome his thick tip, dropping your jaw to accompany the rest of his thick length to slip into your mouth and press against the back of your throat.
He rocked his hips in an opposing rhythm to Jeongin's powerful thrusts, the force simply jolting you into Changbin's dick and helping him fuck your mouth in return.
Any sound you made was turned into vibrations that shot up his spine, while panted moans and grunted breaths flowed freely from them, mingling with the distant sounds of your other boyfriends pleasuring themselves on the side as they waited for their turn.
"Look at you taking Innie so well, gonna make him come, bunny? Make him fill that needy pussy of yours?" The third eldest goaded, his hand sliding down to grope at your breast, running his thumb over your budding nipple.
Jeongin grunted, head bowed with focus as he drove into you with one desire and one only - to come.
You tried to hum out a reply, nodding your head in hopes that it would get noticed through the bobbing of your head until an increase of speed had your eyes rolling in your head.
"I-I'm gonna come, Noona- Oh, fuck-"
Just as you were ready to feel the signature warmth filling you, the presence of him inside of you disappeared and your eyes shot open to see him jacking himself off above you. Within a few passes of his fist, ropes of cum decorated your stomach, starting just above your naval and ending near your breasts.
It was almost as if he could sense your disappointment as he shot you a cocky smirk, "Oh - did you want me to finish inside? Sorry, Noona, I got to pick since it was my turn."
With a tap to your cheek, Changbin brought your attention back to him, "Don't get too upset, you still have five more dicks to go, bunny."
He was right - your punishment was far from over, and with the needy flutters of your pussy, you knew the requirement of not coming would be an uphill battle.
So, with renowned vigor, you did your best to focus on giving the best head you could manage in this position, laving your tongue against the smooth skin of his dick while trying not to mind the saliva that trailed down your cheek.
In the meantime, Chris wasn't faring too well in his seat, his hard on straining in his boxer briefs and begging for some form of attention from anyone in the room - the subtle shifting doing next to nothing to satisfy the pressure he craved.
He watched as Hyunjin guided Seungmin's mouth up and down his cock, a hand tangled in the long golden tresses of the younger's hair while the other half of his attention was focused on slow makeout session Felix had drawn him into; plump lips working against the smaller pair in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful.
"IN-ah," Minho called out, almost looking completely unphased by the drag of Jisung's lips against the column of his neck if it weren't for the way his hands gripped his slim waist. "Why don't you make sure Hyung doesn't get too bored over there?"
Fuck.
Jeongin gave a dutiful nod as he crawled his way over to the eldest, fox-like eyes sparkling with a glee that made his stomach flip. "Channie Hyung."
"Jeongin."
He pouted at the use of his name, no glittering nickname or endearing title following, "Don't be like that! You know why we're doing this - you'd do the same if it was one of us!"
Of course, he was right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to save as much of his pride as he could, not with the way he could feel his sanity slipping as the two-toned blond settled between his spread legs.
"Alright, alright, 'm sorry," relaxing against the chair, he gave a small smile toward the youngest, "hi, baby boy."
Preening with happiness, Jeongin pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh that nearly had him jolting out of the chair, a delighted laugh floating past those daring lips.
"You know... You didn't have to try to keep it a secret," he hummed, planting another kiss higher up the smooth plane of skin, "there's nothing wrong with needing Noona sooner than us, unless..." Sharp eyes looked up at him, a dark glint sending a spark of electricity down the eldest's spine, "You wanted to see what would happen if we found out - is that it, Hyung?"
Chris opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a guttural groan escaping Changbin, pulling his attention toward the main event happening in the middle of the living room.
The buff man shivered, hissing sharply as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth, "Show Binnie, bunny."
You opened your mouth immediately, showing the mess of cum and saliva pooling your tongue.
"Good girl, go on and swallow."
Your puffy lips closed for a moment before parting again to show your now empty mouth, void of any remnants of his seed; as a reward, Changbin bent down and pressed his lips to your forehead.
Next in the rotation was Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin - taking on a position that seemed to be coordinated in advance; Seungmin taking post between your legs, Felix straddling your torso with his hands already groping your chest, while Hyunjin lingered beside you.
"Jeongin, did you really have to leave a mess behind?" Seungmin groaned as he dragged his thumb through a still wet line of cum, tapping Felix's cheek with his index.
Following his instincts, Felix turned his head and instantly took his thumb into his mouth, and you watched with lust fogged eyes as he sucked it clean.
"Don't act like you weren't going to do the same thing." The youngest deadpanned, shooting the singer a glare, "You're just mad I did it first."
Deciding to ignore that statement, the second youngest slipped his thumb from Felix's soft lips and brought it down toward your awaiting pussy, putting slight pressure on your neglected clit.
You jolted at the sudden touch, whining pitifully, "Minnie, please, don't tease me."
"I don't think you're in any position to make demands, bub."
Despite his snarky reply, you could feel the head of his dick nudge against your slick entrance, all the while Felix was happily enjoying his time with your breasts; gently kneading the mounds and tweaking your nipples with subtle pinches here and there.
"Come here, my angel." Hyunjin murmured softly, cupping the freckled blond's face before pulling him into a sloppy kiss.
You watched helplessly, forced to be a spectator of the pleasure happening around you; the show above you, the sounds of Jisung's unabashed whimpers from the couch, and the grunted gasps of Chris from whatever Jeongin and Changbin had resorted to doing to him.
When the duo pulled away, Felix leaned over to let a stream of spit drip onto his twitching cock and the valley of your boobs, the excitement palpable from the way he practically vibrated above you.
Without any further preparation, he pressed your breasts together to sandwich his cock and rocked his hips forward, a heavenly groan floating past his lips.
At the same time, Seungmin slipped past your walls with little resistance, sighing happily at the warmth of your pussy finally enveloping him.
Your hands found Felix's thighs, squeezing the flexed muscles as he fucked your breasts at a steady pace - meanwhile, Seungmin set his own rhythm of deep and hard thrusts, practically punching moans out of your throat with each slap of his thighs against the back of your own.
"Sunshine, you feel so good," Felix groaned, eyes flicking between your face and the way the pink head of his dick peeked out from between your boobs on each inward thrust.
"Of course she'd feel good," Seungmin scoffed, his hands gripping the backs of your knees for leverage, "the little slut was made for us, isn't that right, pup?"
You preened at his words, tossing your head back with an unabashed moan.
"So shameless, my muse," Hyunjin smirked, watching you lovingly as he lazily fisted his spit-slicked cock. "You love being used like this by us - but, then again, we love getting to use you, too."
Whining up at him, your dazed eyes glanced down at his length and your lips parted - an offering.
"Nuh uh, beauty, I'm waiting for that sweet pussy of yours."
The clench your walls gave earned you a moan from the singer inside of you, his grip on your legs tightening slightly, "Fuck, stop it, pup - feels too fucking good."
Felix whined, tossing his head back with a shivering breath, "W-What's she feel like, Minnie?"
"Wet, warm, t-tight," a low grunt fell from his lips, "I can tell she's getting close - you know, when her pussy f-flutters-"
"-Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- I'm close." The freckled boy's thrusts quickly began to falter, dissolving into him shallowly humping your breasts.
Hyunjin watched as both boys chased their orgasms, your breathless moans floating through the air like a song while your nails scratched angry red lines down Felix's slim thighs.
"A-Ah, fuck, f-fuck-" Seungmin was the first to topple over the edge, pulling out just as he began to come, the hot release adding to the partially dried mess left behind from his boyfriend before.
With a shaky rut of his hips, Felix came with a short cry of your name, his cum painting your neck and mixing with the mess of saliva and precum in your cleavage.
Dropping your legs unceremoniously, Seungmin shuffled from between your legs to sit breathlessly at your side; Felix managing to shakily slide himself off of your torso and into the former's arms.
"Oh, you poor beauty," Hyunjin cooed, taking in your utterly disheveled form as he filled in the newly freed space, "they made you so dirty, didn't they?"
You jolted at the feeling of his hand ghosting your side, your abdomen twisting so hard you nearly folded over.
"H-Hyune, can I come this time? Please, please, I-I need to, i-it's too much!"
"You're begging the wrong person, my muse." He used his right index to drag through the mess at your sternum and down to the cum coating your stomach, "I can't help you, here." Popping his finger into his mouth, a shivering breath ran through his body, eyelids fluttering before focusing his heated stare back onto you, "Don't worry, I'll be fast - two more after me and you'll be done."
Luckily for you, your orgasm had began to subside and you were barely affected by the graze of his fingertips down your hips and thighs, caressing your skin and massaging the tense muscles as he went.
Chris watched as Hyunjin slipped inside of you with little to no resistance, the sight of your cum stained body arching off of the floor making him strain against the rope keeping his hands behind his back.
"Wish that was you, huh?" Changbin taunted low in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before lightly massaging away the tenseness in his biceps, "Look at her, five dicks in and she's still taking everything we give her."
"Fuck."
Hyunjin had your legs in the air, calves resting against his right shoulder to make the squeeze even tighter, making each drag of his cock that much more devilish for you.
That should be him making you moan like that, he should be the one feeling the squeeze of your pussy around his dick, not the stupid confines of his underwear.
He felt like he was going crazy, and it didn't help with Jeongin's intermittent touches to his restrained bulge that kept him hyper aware of everything happening in front of him.
Your moans grew in pitch, one hand gripping onto the artist's forearm while the other gripped a decorative pillow by your head for further support.
"Oh, god - I c-can't- I-"
"Hold it, kitten." Minho spoke up from his position on the couch, "You have two more to go for your punishment - you don't want to make it worse, do you?"
"N-No, but- Ah!" Your train of thought escaped you as the lithe dancer slightly leaned forward, pushing your legs closer to your torso and brushing against your g-spot in an entirely new angle that had you seeing stars.
"You can do it, my love," Hyunjin panted breathlessly, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glisten on his skin, "g-gonna fill you up for doing such a good job for us, okay?"
There weren't any words you could find to somehow put together a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded with hiccuped breaths - doing your best not to focus on the burning desire in your abdomen.
It only took a few more strokes until he stilled with a gasp, broken moans happening in time with the twitching of his length, filling your cunt with every last drop of his load.
However, the turnaround this time was faster than you'd expected; Hyunjin pulling out with a still throbbing dick, while the sound of scrambling reached your ears before a new presence filled the void.
"Jagi."
Your heart clenched, blinking up at the man with a desperate gaze, "Sungie, please - I-I can't take anymore."
You were overly aware of the warm sensation of Hyunjin's cum dripping down the curve of your ass and undoubtedly staining the blanket beneath you, and you were beginning to feel tacky from the mix of cum and spit drying on your skin.
"I know, I know, but you're so close, Jagi - you can do it for us, right? Take your punishment like a good girl?"
The feeling of him pushing your legs up and out had you sobbing out a breath, everything from your waist down sore and crying for a break.
Jisung rubbed the leaky tip of his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as more cum seemed to endlessly dribble out of you, "Shit, he really filled you, hm?"
Then, just as his boyfriends before, he angled his hips and sunk into your sensitive cunt, your moans mixing together in a harmony.
"S-So good - god, I wish I could stay in this pussy." He groaned, leaning forward to hover over you - keeping your legs hooked on the outside of his arms - before shallowly thrusting into you.
The sloppy sounds of skin against skin and the mixture of cum and your arousal filled the living room as everyone watched on.
"Fuck... I wanna go again," Felix whined, doe eyes trained on where you and Jisung were connected.
Seungmin laughed, squeezing his arms around him, "Yeah? I bet Chan wishes he could go at all."
This comment brought each of their attentions to the man in mention, and the sight was one to be memorized for the time to come.
A light sheen of sweat shined across his forehead and chest, shallow breaths expanding his torso and exposing the slight definition of abs with each exhale, and thick thighs spread to display the bulge stretching the light grey fabric of his boxer briefs - a glaringly obvious stain of precum in the form of dark grey spread around the head of his hidden cock and along the length, defining it more.
"Holy shit, Chan - you're turned on this much?" Hyunjin took in the view with amused eyes, though the faint swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip hadn't gone unnoticed.
The eldest whined, an embarrassed blush adding to the flush of arousal on his face, "It doesn't help that these two," he nodded his head between Jeongin and Changbin, "have been over here touching me the whole time, and- fuck, watching everyone take turns with her, how could I not get turned on?"
"Channie Hyung, you look like you're one breeze away from coming." Jeongin giggled as he pressed his index finger against the outline of his tip, pulling it away to see a faint string of precum follow suit.
"He shouldn't." Minho interjected, watching the small group from the couch, "And you better not make him come either, unless you'd like to be added to the punishment list, too."
Another signature whine fell from Felix as he broke his focused stare to look at the black haired man, "Can we at least see him? Please, Hyung?"
There was a moment of silence - well, as silent as it could be with your and Jisung's moans and whimpers still dancing through the air - before he nodded his head.
"Fine, go ahead."
It definitely wasn't a three person job, but when Felix sprung into action with Jeongin, Seungmin wasn't about to be left out of the reveal - so, with three sets of hands and the help of Chris lifting his hips, they managed to toss away his one and only clothing item.
"Holy fuck, thank you," he groaned, his head falling back and lightly knocking against the backrest of the chair; a wave of goosebumps decorating his skin at the temperature shift and change in pressure.
The sudden sound of Jisung cursing called their attention like a moth to a flame, eyes snapping to see the rapper frantically fucking into you with reckless abandon.
Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you gripped his hair, "Please, please, please, I-I can't- j-just come already, Sungie!"
It wasn't clear if it was the tug on his scalp or your command that had him coming, but he was suddenly shaking above you with breathless whines, fucking his load into you with hard, shallow ruts.
He dipped his head to catch your lips in a less than coordinated kiss, a dazed smile finding its way to his face, "Last one, Jagi."
Sniffling up at him, a harsh realization hit you like a freight train - Minho was the last one to go.
Minho, the one who enjoyed seeing you at your wits end, wearing you down until you were nothing but his brainless little kitten - the one who laughed in the face of your pleas and begs, the one who would catch your tears onto his fingers and make you choke on the same digits.
As Jisung slipped away to join the rest of the spectators, you turned your head to see Minho unmoving from his seat, staring at you with a sinister glint in his eyes.
"Hands and knees, kitten."
You were shocked to find out that you still had power left in you to lift your body from the floor, much less manage to turn yourself onto your aching legs before dipping into an arch you'd perfected in your time with them - ignoring the feeling of now cold cum meeting the fluffy warmth of the blanket where you once laid.
It wasn't long until you felt a large hand grip the swell of your ass before landing a hard slap against the cheek making you scream out a moan.
"What did we learn?" He hummed nonchalantly, spreading your ass cheeks to see the newest mess of cum ooze toward your clit.
"I-I won't k-keep secrets," you sobbed, the pulse of your pussy making your toes curl, "if s-someone wants to skip ahead, w-we make sure everyone knows - P-Please, Min, I'm sorry!"
The only sign of acknowledgment he gave you was a clipped hum, sliding one hand to the base of your spine while the other wrapped around his dick, pumping once and tracing your messy cunt.
"Do you think you deserve to come?"
"Y-Yes! Yes, please, I've been good - I-I didn't come while the others fucked me, I-I let them use me, please let me come, Min!" Hiccuping a sob, your hands fisted the blanket as fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, "Please, please, please, it hurts - I can't keep holding it!"
The stretch of his dick past your sensitive walls had your mouth falling open in a silent moan, eyes rolling as your veins flowed with molten lava - overstimulation beginning to set in.
"Okay, kitten, you can come," he murmured softly, his hand sliding up your slightly sweaty back before wrapping around your neck, his body eclipsing yours as his lips hovered just above your ear, "but only when I say so."
He dragged his hips back before delivering a hard thrust, forcing a choked gasp past your lips as he began to practically fuck you through the floor - broken moans and cries flowing like water in a stream.
"Remember this the next time you decide to bend the rules," hissing in your ear, his hand tightened around your neck ever so slightly, "doesn't matter if its Yongbokkie's charms, Hannie's begs, Jeongin's sugar coated promises - none of them, if you try lying to cover for them, this is what'll happen."
"Minho, it wasn't all her fault." Chris gritted, watching the way you writhed in the second eldest's hold - his dick twitching painfully for any type of relief.
Minho scoffed out a laugh, finally directly regarding him ever since the entire punishment started, "When did I ever say it was, Chan?"
Without so much as a stutter in his rhythm, he sat up onto his knees, bringing your body with his and putting you on full display for the rest of your partners.
"This is a lesson to you, too; don't try to keep things from us - if you want to fuck our girl, you can fuck her." His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, tilting your head in their direction, "She obviously loves it, so why put yourself through the stress of making it a secret? You can see her just like this without keeping her orgasm from her, isn't that right, kitten?"
You mindlessly nodded as best as you could, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth as you tried your best to keep your focus on the man restrained in the chair and not on the six other pairs of eyes taking you in.
"Words, kitten."
"Y-Yes, Sir!" You mewled, your hands holding tight to his arm to keep yourself tethered to your own body.
"Exactly, now, say sorry."
Chris bristled, "Minho, that's-"
"Felix."
On command, the boys occupying the space near Chris's legs moved to allowed Felix between them; Jeongin holding onto one thigh while Hyunjin held onto the other to further restrain him.
The second Felix's soft hands wrapped around the base of his dick, he had to bite his lip to silence the pure moan of pleasure that wanted to rise out of him - but, the instant his lips pressed against a vein, he nearly cried.
"Say sorry, kitten," Minho whispered in your ear, breaking through the fog that clouded your brain, "say sorry then you can come."
A sob wracked through your body as you nodded, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Innie and Binnie. I'm sorry L-Lix, Minnie, a-and Hyune. I-I'm sorry S-Sungie," nearly choking on your breath, you cried, "a-and I'm sorry Min, I'm so sorry, sir!"
He hummed, a smirk on his lips, "You're missing an apology, kitten."
The names replayed in your head like a tape on rewind, your brain desperately searching for who you might have missed until it finally clicked.
"C-Channie!"
The call of his name brought his eyes to yours, breathless groans escaping him as Felix licked at him as if he were a popsicle on a hot summer day.
You sniffled, blown out pupils swimming in the sea of your watery eyes, "I-I'm so sorry, Channie - I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"
His heart clenched in time with his abdomen, hips canting as best they could with Hyunjin and Jeongin keeping him still. "I'm sorry, princess, you hear me? Fuck- I'm so sorry, baby."
"Good kitten," Minho grunted, his free hand wrapping around your hip to the apex of your thighs, his skilled fingers finding your clit easily, "now, come for us."
There wasn't a singular word to describe the sensations that shot through your veins; euphoria, relief, satisfaction, all you could feel was the wave of your orgasm crashing around you and drowning you in the muffled sounds of your own screams.
It didn't take long for Chris to fall victim to the sinful kitten licks of Felix's tongue, not when he had the view of you and Minho falling apart before his eyes.
"Oh fuck, f-fuck!"
Minho felt you slump in his arms, shallow breaths wracking your body through soft whimpers and hiccups. "You're alright, Jagiya, I've got you."
You slurred out soft words he couldn't catch, though the faintest "Sorry" caught his ear through the jumbled mess.
"No more of that, kitten, okay? I forgive you - We forgive you, just take some deep breaths with me, hm?"
Changbin appeared in front of you with two wet washcloths, and a t-shirt most likely from his closet, "Hey, bunny, it's Binnie - I'm gonna clean you off, okay?"
You hummed softly and he got to work wiping away the dried cum and spit that stained your skin, using the second cloth to get whatever remnants he missed before handing it off to Minho who cleaned away the cum covering your pussy.
Meanwhile, Felix and Jeongin were having a field day of cleaning up the cum that decorated Chris's skin from his own orgasm; Hyunjin lazily running his hands through Chris's hair while Seungmin untied his wrists.
"Hyung," Seungmin prodded, garnering Chris's tired, but attentive gaze, "we know you mean well, and you don't like imposing over us, or whatever," he took a short breath, fighting through the shyness, "but if you need something then say so - it's not like we haven't adjusted our schedules before."
"Yeah, Chan - we're not gonna fault you if you need your time sooner than us, we do it all the time." Hyunjin chimed in, playing with a small curl at the front of his head.
"Some of us more than others."
"You know, I can hear you," Felix deadpanned, looking up at the three of them while licking his lips, "and it's not like I don't offer sharing my time!"
Jeongin laughed, "I don't think they meant it as a bad thing, Lix, you're just the one who uses your time the most, even if you share it."
"Which is, again, not a bad thing," Jisung piped up with a chuckle, walking toward the group with a washcloth and a bottle of water for the eldest, "I think it's a tie between me and you, honestly."
Through the small talk and pre-shower wipe downs - some of the boys dispersing to shower while others searched for snacks - Chris noticed Minho bundling up the soiled blanket while Changbin cradled your sleeping form in his arms on the couch, murmuring soft words he wasn't able to catch.
"She's okay," Minho hummed, catching Chris's soft gaze, "we're going to let her rest for a minute, then when she wakes up Changbin's going to make sure she uses the bathroom before anything else."
He nodded understandingly, stretching his arms and rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists.
"You want to cuddle with her."
Chris jolted, eyes widening, "What? I didn't say-"
"You don't have to say it, you do it all the time after sex, Chan," he rolled his eyes, a loving smirk playing at his lips, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just..." Sighing, Minho ventured over to the chair he still sat in, "Stop being shy about needing love, okay? This isn't about some stupid rule or 'fuck' schedule - you need to know that there isn't any shame in putting your needs first. You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need, Hyung."
Planting a quick kiss on his lips, Minho disappeared down the hall toward the laundry room, leaving Chris to settle with his words.
Nodding softly to himself, he made his way toward Changbin and swapped roles quietly, accepting a temple kiss from his fellow rapper before he headed into the kitchen to join whoever occupied the space.
Laying across the couch, Chris let you lay partially on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your back while he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
Stirring slightly, you cracked an eye open and a tired smile twitched your lips, "Mm... I love you."
You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need.
He smiled at Minho's words, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, watching as you drifted back to sleep.
"I love you too, baby."
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lufyuu · 13 days
Text
,, Tied Up Prince ''
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Psychotic villain x Isekai'd second prince male reader
Tw/s: bondage, stockholm syndrome-ish, reader is into how the villain puts him in his place, dub-con, ripping clothes, degration, angry sex, punished reader, yandere-like oc, agressive sex.
The original post
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The sound of blades clashing is loud. Ear deafening even. The sound continues for what feels like a century to the young man. When it finally stops, he lets out a frustrated sigh. Not being able to guess what will happen next.
The masked man refuses to fall down on his knees. Instead, he limps a bit while looking up at the sword wielding main character, his sword casted aside. His long messy hair covers even more of his features due to the fact his mask has sustained some damage and yet he still finds a way to taunt the other. “你真的觉得这样就结束了吗?” , letting out a chuckle. With only a few seconds left in the episode, the viewer watches in anticipation, wondering what will happen. The semi masked man limps towards the other and out of nowhere, throws needles towards the main character. As he passes out, so do the end credits.
"WHAT!??? IT CAN'T END LIKE THIS???", you freak out over the cliffhanger ending, urgently scrolling to see if it's ongoing or if there are more episodes— unfortunately, it's neither. You feel as if you're about to metaphorically cry due to frustration. Nobody warned you there'd be a huge cliffhanger after 50 episodes! "God damnit!", you yell at nobody in particular while trying to do more research. Maybe if you look hard enough, the 51st episode will appear...right?
Even after 2 hours, you refuse to give up. You've wasted almost 3 whole days to watch this stupid series, it can't just end like that. You even go through some tiktok comments and edits too find any clues to an episode 51. Though, it's odd that nobody cares to mention the fact that there's a huge cliffhanger on the last episode. Everyone seems to be okay with it? That can't be right. Either everyone's crazy or you're going crazy.
"AHA!", you finally find a "clue" of some sort in the official website. It states that although the series does end on episode 50, it's based off of a novel which is completed. Without a second thought, you search it up only to find that the novel name is...your name? It clearly says [Name] [L. Name] as the title. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. You mindlessly click on the link.
“我们终将相遇,灵魂伴侣。”
.ᐟ.ᐟ
'My head's killing me...', when you open your eyes, you're faced with a ceiling. It wouldn't be odd if it weren't for the fact that it's not your ceiling. "What the...", you instantly sit up on the bed to look around. Not only is the ceiling not the one you usually wake up to, the entire room isnt even yours. You scramble to get on your feet, almost sprinting towards the door. When you are about to open it, it opens from the other side. "Ah!", the short, well dressed girl lets out a shocked noise, "your highness, you're up early", she regains her composure and sesms to be waiting for something. You stay quiet for a few seconds which prompts her to try and break the silence, "may I come in..?", to which you take a step to the right, allowing her to enter the spacious bedroom and put down a tray with food. Before she exits, she opens the windows for you to which you thank her for as she walks out the room, leaving you all alone once more.
"Gosh it's bright out", you walk over to the now opened window and look out. The scent of nature lingers on your nose, it calms your panicked mind in just a few seconds. The birds chirping, the leaves rustling, the sun shining brightly. Far different from the traffic jam and loud vehicles you'd normally hear. This gives you enough time to think about the situation in a calm and rational manner. 'Your highness?', is what you think of, along with the fact that the room and environment is vastly different from the messy, dark room you would usually wake up to. Questioning yourself only led to even more questions and so, you turn to look at the plate that has been served to you. Two steamed buns and a few fruits for nutrients.
"Alright let's see what I can find!", you have some optimism in you as you begin your "investigation". The courtyard is ridiculously big and so are the halls. You alnost got lost halfway in! Deciding it's time for a little break, you sit down on a nearby pavilion. "I've been here for almost an hour, am I just dreaming..", you pinch yourself a few times but end up with a red cheek and still no answers. "Ow...", you sigh, nothing has given you any answers.
"What's gotten you so stressed?", a voice rings out behind you, prompting you to turn around just enough to get a glance. A good-looking and well built man stands behind with a small smile on his face. He takes a few steps forward and sits next to you, "I don't think I've ever heard you sigh that loudly before", he tries to lighten up the mood seeing how blue you look right now. "Well...", realizing something, you do a double take, "Zhou Jian!?", you jump up in disbelief to which he responds with a very shocked face, "yes..?", he looks worried for your well, "was I really gone that long?", he chuckles and scratches his head, "I could have sworn it was just a month", you could only stand frozen in time, jaw almost wide open but you manage to keep it closed. "C'mon, sit down, tell 哥哥 what's on your mind", he smiles with his eyes closed, patting the seat next to him. You slowly sit down while staring bullets into him. "Are you mad at me?", he asks with a worried expression, you turn away, realizing your stare was bothering him. "Ahem no, of course not", in all honesty, you're trying your best to act like a younger sibling and it sure it hard when your older brother is THE Zhou Jian.
He had previously heard of your dissatisfaction with how he is almost always away from home so it wasn't unreasonable for him to think that way. "Hm, then?", he asks, tilting his head and moving closer to you. You don't even know what you want...maybe just a bit of help 'recalling' who you are. Of course you can't just say you lost your memories or something like that, it'd worry Zhou Jian.
What to do...you have to continue exploring this strange world but also can't risk alerting Zhou Jian...That's it!
"I think I just need a stroll out", you look at him. He tenses up and his eyebrows begin furrow. "You know that's not a good idea", he shakes his head, shit you just fucked up..how were you supoosed to know you're not allowed out?? "Please? There's something I need to do", you try to plead, "and I won't be out an hour", but no matter how you persist, he doesn't waver. "弟弟, if it truly is important, I'll send someone to do whatever it is for you", he offers an alternative but that doesn't work for you. There is no way to convince him so you think of another idea. You close your eyes for a moment and nod, "it's okay, I changed my mind", giving a half smile.
"Oh...they're so tall..", you look at the walls you planned to climb to get out. You never learned how to climb a rope either so that's out of the question. Maybe your secret get out plan won't be happening afterall.
'Think [Name], think!'
You pace around, trying to think of another plan. Those cliche romance shows lied to you! You can't possibly climb a tall building. While pacing around, you can't help but feel as if you're forgetting something but what? You try your best to recall the whole series, the plot, what happened and what started it.
"Zhou Jian has to defend his kingdom against the villain due to the fact that...", you talk to yourself, trying to regain memory of the show, "the villain seeks out the Kingdom's rumoured hidden temple in order to seize...", as if everything's connected, you remember the most important thing, "..the power within!", your fist gently hits your palm, and your eyes widen with excitement. "That means I probably have powers like that too!", you almost let out a happy noise but remembering that you are most likely going to be spotted faster if you do, you contain yourself. "How to activate it..", you try to think of jumping over the wall, maybe gracefully flying over to the other side but nothing happens. "They make it look so effortless in the shows", you start to wonder if there's really not a single system window to guide you.
"Your highness! It's time for your tea", a maid is clearly looking for you, shouting loudly as she searches for you everywhere. "Oh shit!", you'll get found out in no time if you don't escape now! A sudden wave of panic sends your body suddenly flying over the 40ft tall cement wall. "W-wAoHH", You brace for impact but fortunately for you, your body doesn't hit the ground roughly, infact, your fall is cushioned by an invisible object. You need time to process what just happened but the guards right around the corner says otherwise. Without missing another second, your legs sprint towards the town in hopes of not getting caught red handed. 'It seems my magic is unstable..is it because I'm not from here or is it just my new body that's weak..?'
You huff and huff due to how fast you just ran from the imperial palace to the bustling streets. After a while, you pull yourself together and look around, finally noticing the amazing scent of the street food being sold. "Excuse me", a little girl says, trying to get past you as you're blocking the middle, "sorry!", you instantly move to the side to let her get past. "Now, where to start", your eyes dart around, a mom and daughter sharing a tanghulu, a couple enjoying their stroll together and even a homeless looking man being given a baozi to eat. Looking at everything up close in person gives a different feeling than when you're watching behind a screen. Despite being here, you still have little to no clue as to who you are in this world and what your purpose is. All you know if that you're the brother of the protagonist. In the original show, there were no mentions of the protagonist ever having a younger brother so people assumed he's an only child. The only heir to the thrown, who knew there would be a spare?
Well you can't dwell on that too much, you have to at least find out what arc you're in right now. Maybe by knowing, you'd be able to assist the protagonist in fighting! Technically you're the main character now that you've isekai'd into the world so there's no way you'd be in any sort of danger!
You turn your attention to your right, the neverending displays of food makes your mouth water. Unfortunately, due to you not paying much attention to where you're walking, you bump into someone. The impact was enough to send you stumbling backwards. The stranger's hand instinctively wraps around your waist, preventing you from falling onto the people behind you and potentially creating a domino effect. His taller stature surprises you. Only when you stabilize yourself, he removes his hand. "Next time, be more aware of your surroundings", his voice is somewhat elegant yet intimidating and indifferent. You can't really diciphere him as his face is covered by a very oddly terrifying mask. It definitely stands out which makes you wonder if he does like the attention if brings him or simply he's unaware of his unique accessory. Though, before you can ask anything, he walks in past you, dissapearing into the crowd. Something about him seemed...very familiar.
After several hours of strolling and finding absolutely nothing, you notice the sun going down, dusk is coming and the night is about to settle in. So, you decide to get back to the palace the same way you got out of it, panicking and then being thrown over the wall.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Nobody seemed to have questioned why you were gone for half the day. Fortunate for you of course but does beg the question why nobody noticed a prince going missing.
In the morning, however, the same maid who had been calling out to you for tea did question where you were. "I wasn't feeling tea", was your simple yet effective answer.
"Gosh I was out for so long and yet found nothing in return", you kick a rock in the courtyard while sighing loudly. The masked man already erased from your mind. What's even worse is that with your hair this long, it takes more effort to take care of it, not to mention the hanfu which made you stand out like a sore thumb. At just a glance, one could tell you're royalty due to your attire. Maybe you should have thought of that before going out yesterday. This time, you'll dress up just like any other commoner there. There must be at least one that doesn't look like a prince's daily outfit in the closet. You look through the ginormous closet, sorting them out one by one until you finally stumble across an acceptable one.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Back to the bustling streets once more. The smell of food is still as amazing as you remember it. You seem to have forgotten something but fret not, your stomach is here to remind you of it. "I forgot...I didn't have breakfast..", you vaguely remember the picture of a plate filled with food on the table of your room. Well you can't turn back now, you're too far in. "I'll just buy something in the market", you say to yourself, walking towards the nearest food stall which sells roasted meat on sticks. The sight is already mouth watering, you can't wait to sink your teeth into it. "老板! One roasted meat please", you grin ear to ear knowing you'd have one in your hands in a few seconds, "that'll be 3 coins", did you even bring any money? You desperately try to search your hanfu for any signs of coins but to no avail. "C-can I have it...for free?", you awkwardly ask, "hah? Who do you think you are, just so you know, have to feed my family too."
'Time to pull out my status' you thought to yourself, "well, I'm—", "I'll pay for it", a hand behind you gives a few coins to the seller, prompting the seller to give the roasted meat to you. You look behind to see who had stolen your spotlight only to be face to face with yet another mask. The same mask actually. "Thank you but I could handle it by myself", you give a slight smile, "oh? It seems to me you had no money, or perhaps you'd like to pay me back?", you can tell he's a bit annoyed but what you can't tell is that he's amused. "In that case, I take it back", getting a sudden eerie feeling from the man, you leave immediately and he watches you run off.
You run until you're sure he wouldn't be able to see you anymore. "Jeez what even was that..", you wonder to yourself, why did your guts just tell you to run?? That's odd. Really though, something about that man is super familiar but what?
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
6 months have passed since you've been transmigrated to this world. Fortunately, you adapted quite a long time ago. The strange masked man hasn't been seen at all and because of that, you forgot all about him. The past few months have been relatively peaceful, with some royal guards getting occasional injuries from the amount of fights they've been in. Thankfully, Zhou Jian isn't one of them. You had a hard time accepting that your life in the original world might never return but hey, at least you're treated like royalty. The only downside is that you still aren't allowed outside. A huge bummer.
You enjoy some afternoon tea with Zhou Jian as bonding time for the two of you. "I'm surprised you haven't been sent to the battlefield yet", you jokingly comment, earning you a playful glare from the protagonist, "don't jinx it", he puts his porcelain teacup down, "though, it is strange that the scoundrel hasn't shown up in a while", he's referring to his enemy, the man who has been trying to get rid of your kingdom so they say it. "He's so mysterious too, no matter how many men I send to discover more about him, it's as if he doesn't exist at all but at the same time, he does", Zhou Jian says, looking up and wondering to himself, confused. "One day when you do catch him maybe you'll find out who he truly is", you sip on the hot fragrant tea. The two of you chat for a while before a guard interrupts it.
"Your highness! It's an emergency! The King himself has personally requested you on the battlefield to fight alongside him, it seems the enemies have gotten stronger", the voice is panicked, shaky, stumbling over his own words and trying his hardest to keep his composure but ultimately failing, miserably. Zhou Jian immediately gets up, grabbing the weapon he always carries by his side and rushing out with the guard, "I'm going to be back soon", he glances at you while he says this. Without anyone to chat with, you get up from your seat and head towards the library. Behind you, the servants bow as they take the cups and desserts away.
Even when night falls, neither the king nor Zhou Jian has returned. It's quite common for soldiers to camp out for a few days so you don't worry too much about it.
The hallways are oddly quiet. Probably since there are less guards and servants surrounding the place seeing as a few went to tend to the King and heir. More peace and quiet for you. The stars at night twinkle, the moon glowing so brightly, the sound of crickets. Not even the cold air bothers you. You yawn a bit, "time for bed", your legs carry you to the bed, not as comfortable as the one you had back at home but you can still sleep on it. You tuck yourself into bed and close your eyes, wondering what you'll have for brekafast tomorrow.
At the stroke of midnight, the sounds of blood gushing doesn't even wake you up. No scream can be heard due to the intruder's silencing them. "PROTECT THE SECOND PRI—", the loud voice cuts off, indicating the murder of the man. The imperial palace is a mess, filled with fresh blood and dead bodies. You sleep peacefully, blissfully unaware of the massacre happening just outside your room. Even the door creaking open doesn't wake you up from your deep slumber. A tall man hovers over you, a crown in his hand. He mumbles something but it's so quite that not even a soul can hear it. With a snap of his fingers, your hands and ankles are bound together respectively without you ever even noticing it.
"你真是个可爱的睡美人"
.ᐟ.ᐟ
Your eyes are half open, your vision all blurry due to just waking up. Your whole body aches but when you go to stretch, you find it to not be possible. You struggle and notice your hands and ankles bound by something that's glowing red. It hurts whenever you try to get rid of it. "Go on, the sight of you struggling amuses me", a voice says out loud from a corner of the room. The masked man gets up from his seat and as he walks closer to where you are bound, you notice that his mask is slightly damaged. Well, a part of it has broken off, revealing his blood colored eye.
He carries himself with such elegance that you'd think he's royalty at a first glance. He brings himself down to your level, his eye crinkle softly at the corner, the look on your face is just so adorable. "I never would have thought we'd meet again, 小王子", he grabs your chin, lifting it up so you two make eye contact. "I had an inkling you were apart of their little kingdom, I just didn't expect you to be so naive", he continues while looking at your frustrated face which he adores, "did you really think those pesky little servants could ever protect you?", you turn your head to the side, not wanting to even touch him. It is honestly a bit embarrassing for you as you've watched this whole series, know the plot and yet here you are, kidnapped by the villain himself of whom you finally remember the name of, Xu RenFeng, and not even getting the chance to put up a fight.
Xu RenFeng thinks for a moment, the silence deafening. "How about this, you and I become partners so to say", you're confused by what he's suggesting but he elaborates, "since you're hidden and have no purpose in that palace, you could be with me could you not?", he looks at you expectantly with a psychotic look in his eye. "I would kill you now but you're way too adorable to be killed just like that, I'm offering a role of a lifetime", while it does tempt you in a way, you're still not too sure about dying with him at the end. "No thank you", you don't even look at him as you say this, "I'll give you some more time to think", he stands tall and turns around, walking out the door to your prison.
To say it's a prison is exaggerating. At least it looks like an average bedroom. Not as luxurious as the one you had before but still comfortable. After a few seconds pass, you find your hands and ankles no longer bounded, giving you some freedom to explore the room you've been captured in.
Of course the surviving servants and royal guards had to inform their king and future king what had happened. From the massacre of many, many servants to the second prince going missing, presumably taken by their enemy. "We should've known it was a trap the moment he left", the King is referring to the man himself, Xu RenFeng. "Why would he want [Name]?", Zhou Jian questions, frustrated by how the situation has gone from manageable to a complete mess. His hands balled into fists, worrying for his brother's safety. They have to find you, and fast.
Meanwhile, you've been held in the room for about 5 hours. All you've been up to is trying to think of a plan to maybe just maybe, trick him long enough for the psychotic guy to let you go. From what you've seen in the show itself, he is a very calm and calculating individual, making it hard for anyone to get past him. "Gosh, it seems that the only way to get out is by relying on brute force!", compated to modern times, the door isn't made out of very strong material, maybe you can knock it down or something. When you body slam the door, it doesn't move an inch. "Well that goes my plan", you just sit against the door you had just tried to body slam in defeat.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
As days passed, you try a different method of breaking out each day but they all fail in getting you out the the prison-like room. The only time the door would open was when Xu RenFeng himself would bring you food and place it on the table in the room. Even then, when the door opened, you would be bound once more. At least the food was always good. Each time he brought food to you, he'd try to persuade you into joining him. Something about you really did pull him in. You had power over him whether you knew or not.
One day, when there's a knock on the door, you get an idea. Xu RenFeng enters the room in silence, holding a plate in one hand. He puts the food down and as he's about to open his mouth, "can you eat with me?", you ask, surprising him. Today he's wearing a different style of mask. It doesn't cover his lower face, only the eyes. You wonder why he covers his face and remain mysterious. Even towards the end of his life, he never once took off his mask. The reason was never revealed. Though, it did add to his charm which is why a lot of people fell for the guy. He hesitates but gives a slight nod, closing the door with a wave of his hand.
He takes the seat across from you, not having anything on his side of the table. "Oh, I thought you'd grab your own food?", you ask while munching down on the prepared food. "No, I'd rather enjoy the view while I can", his lips turn into a smirk. Unsettling but not the weirdest thing he's said while with you. You get a bit nervous, wanting to pull off the plan but what if he notices beforehand? 'Agh, no more overthinking it, it's now or never [Name]!', you think to yourself and reach over the table, violently tearing the mask off his face, taking him by complete surprise. With great strength and agility, he grabs ahold of your wrist which has his mask. You stare at his face. He wasn't an average looking man. No scars or bruises. Instead, he's the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on. You're left speechless and so is he for a few seconds.
The look of shock in his eyes is replaced with that of anger. Without uttering a single word and with your wrist still held in his hand, he walks over to your side of the table, glaring at you before pulling you to the bed and throwing you on it. Fortunately you aren't hurt, only frightened. You're pinned to the bedframe by the intimidating villain. Your back is against the frame and you have nowhere to run. "I've been painstakingly patient with you and yet here you are taking off my mask. Was it not obvious to you I didn't want it off, EVER?", to say he's angry is an understatement, his eyes are even more psychotic. All you can do is freeze up due to fear, knowing neither fight nor flight are options in this very moment. You can't muster up an apology, both due to fear and also the feeling of superiority, to you, this man is just a character, he'll be no longer once you find a way back to your home! Without an answer, he takes it as you not wanting to apologize. "Do you really think just because you're a prince that I can't hurt you?", he chuckles at your pathetic expression. With another snap of his fingers, you're bound once more.
As much as you'd like to deny it, the way he's aggressively holding you is really turning you on. Xu RenFeng grabs at your clothes and rips them, leaving your body vulnerable to the man. "What a sight", he looks at you up and down. You try to cover your face with your hands because of embarrassment but he pushes your hands away. "Oh my prince, don't hide your adorable expressions", he purrs.
When you blink, his hanfu has already been diacarded on the floor not far from the bed. "Won't you help a stressed man out?", with his clothes being gone, you can see his hard cock. You stare at it for a little too long, long enough for Xu RenFeng to notice. "Hm? Lost for words are we?", he seems proud of that. "I..It's..—", you bite your lip to contain the moan you were about to let out as the man lifts your legs up to his shoulder and stretches you out with two fingers. "There's a much easier way for this but I'd rather do the old fashioned way to see how you writhe in pleasure just from my fingers. You close your eyes shut, clenched fists as his fingers move around inside, "I'll stretch you so well that this big cock slips right in", just that alone makes you tighten up, earning a satisfied hum from the other. Before long, he decides it's time to add another finger, stretching you out even more. "Ah..ngh...", your moans aren't really heard, the noises you let out are more comparable to humming. Xu RenFeng doesn't like that one bit.
His take his wet fingers out of your tight hole, leaving you feeling empty and opening your eyes as to why he did that. Relying on his strength, he pulls you onto his lap, your hole hovering over his cock, almost touching the tip. "Hu–aggh", you barely have time to react before he plunges you down all the way. You let out the loudest moan that Xu RenFeng's servants are able to hear from outside the magic-sealed room. "What an amazing voice you have, 小王子", he looks up at the person who is unable to speak due to the pain and pleasure he has brought them. His cock remains inside your hole without moving an inch, "a-are you trying to tease me...move", you try to stimulate yourself by bouncing on his cock to the best of your abilities but you can't seem to do that due to him having a tight grip on your waist. "You're so fragile, I'll have an easier time breaking you", he lifts you up until the only thing left inside is his tip and immediately slams you back down on his large cock, repeating this over and over again. "Fuck..", he groans while you're almost screaming-moaning. You never imagined this would be how your first time would go. Xu RenFeng pounds your ass so rough and fast that your ass is turning red.
You feel his precum inside you as he hits your prostate over and over, showing no mercy. "Your hole was made for my cock, wasn't it?", you can't even come uo with a response in that cock filled head of yous, "I'll make sure you remember the shape of my cock by fucking you everyday", he lets out a deep laugh, watching you bounce up and down his cock. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he goes deeper until you can't think of anything anymore. You cum while moaning loudly, still being bounced up and down. The stimulation is driving you crazy, everything feels like a fever dream. Not long after you came and without warning, he cums inside while still pounding you, not stopping for a second. He's cumming as he's thrusting inside, giving a new sensation you never thought you'd feel. "I see you're enjoying this more than I am, how adorable that expression of yours", he points out, "aren't I glad I picked you up along the way", if he could, he would have given himself a pat on the back that moment. You try to push him off, wanting to go at your own pace or to possibly just take a breather, "ah-ah, we're not done", he keeps thrusting deep inside, "don't worry, I'll return you in one piece to your family soon~"
He didn't stop until he had pumped at least a few cups worth of cum inside of you. You passed out due to how rough he was being. Xu RenFeng made sure to tuck you into bed. When he came out the room with his mask back on, he appeared to be very refreshed, some servants even whispered to the others that he was practically glowing. All because of a certain young prince named [Name].
You may not know it yet but you're now stuck with a psycho of a man.
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Translation notes!
你真的觉得这样就结束了吗?
Do you really thinks this is over?
老版
Boss (in this context, used to address shopkeepers/vendors you want to buy from)
我们终将相遇,灵魂伴侣。
We will meet eventually, soulmate.
弟弟
Little brother/younger brother
哥哥
Big brother/elder brother
你真是个可爱的睡美人
You really are a cute sleeping beauty
小王子
Little prince (endearing)
I have so many ideas for this man but couldn't fit all of them in one fic🥹
There's this one kink I know you'll love but unfortunately didn't make the cut, maybe next time/drabble!
1K notes · View notes
Text
Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader
I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.
Word Count: 13,439
Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury
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Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes. 
Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear. 
But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home. 
You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.
He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon. 
Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.
Today, however, was different. No text, no call.
It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.  
This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?
Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry. 
The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away. 
To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug. 
And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’ 
Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.
He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward. 
It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering. 
Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke. 
The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment. 
His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him. 
“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path. 
“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”
Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”
“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you. 
“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”
“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.
Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”
Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”
Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief. 
“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”
Bucky’s ears started ringing. 
The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.
Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick. 
“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.” 
“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-” 
Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”  
“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”
“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.
She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”
“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.
Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”
A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”
Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”
Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.
“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”
Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor. 
His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”
Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.” 
And just like that, Bucky was gone. 
He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life. 
He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance. 
He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon. 
A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-
Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”
“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”
Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”
Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”
“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative. 
Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field. 
“She deserves to come home,” he said.
Maria couldn’t argue with him. 
“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”
Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured. 
But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies. 
“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.
A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.” 
Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none. 
The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even. 
And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.
The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous. 
Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.
Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.
“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response. 
“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”
He couldn’t say yes fast enough.
A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.
He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?
“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”
He waited. 
No response.
“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…” 
The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.
 The thought made him nauseous.
“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.
He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late. 
He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself. 
But a small sound stopped him.
“Buck…”
He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.
A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…” 
A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you. 
He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”
A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”
Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.
But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”
“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”
Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.
“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”
Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale. 
He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have. 
What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?
Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.
“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”
Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could. 
“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-” 
Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.” 
And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival. 
But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”
“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed. 
Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities. 
“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”
“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”
Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”
Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.
“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him. 
Bucky felt no such thing.
“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”
You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”
Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.
“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat. 
Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake. 
The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.
“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”
Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.
“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”
He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you. 
Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate. 
“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”
The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of  misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.
“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed. 
A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have. 
He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.
“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.
“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”
Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel. 
He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory. 
Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.
It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.
“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows.  “I think I’m right around the corner.” 
This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.
“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.
Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know. 
But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.
“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.
But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.
“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”
At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.
“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”
“No, don’t be sorry, doll.” 
Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.
“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek. 
And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be. 
You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”
With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive. 
He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”
He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”
He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin. 
A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.
“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”
A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.
“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”
Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”
He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.
Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have. 
“We need to… to t-talk.”
“I h-have to tell you.”
“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”
And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later. 
But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.
Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach. 
They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds. 
With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.
“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”
His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again. 
With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better. 
Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change. 
Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still. 
Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer. 
He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that. 
“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”
Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”
“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”
Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-
“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”
He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions. 
But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.
“What are you doing? Keep going!”
“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”
“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”
Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest. 
He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.
He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.
Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.
The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over. 
“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”
The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.
“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”
After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to  relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.
Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again. 
“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”
Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat. 
The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.  
Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.
And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw. 
But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.
Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over. 
He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating. 
But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life. 
And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”
The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you. 
A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.
“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.
Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-” 
“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”
A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you. 
Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.
Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.
“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.
But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.
“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his. 
He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.
“Hi…” he breathed. 
Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”
Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.
“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”
Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”
“Feel what?”
Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible. 
“She crashed on the jet…”
“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”
“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.” 
A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.
“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”
“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”
“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.” 
His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge. 
“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch. 
Bucky only shook his head. 
“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”
Again, he refused. 
Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face. 
“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”
“But I-”
“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”
Bucky nodded. 
Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-” 
Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears. 
“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”
Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.
“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod. 
Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.
Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”
Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”
He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”
“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”
Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.
But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.
“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”
Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.
In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind. 
In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you. 
He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home. 
“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”
Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him. 
A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make. 
A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”  
Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor. 
He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you. 
Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”
And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you. 
By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again. 
He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet. 
“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.
“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.
His “thank you” was for more than just the door. 
Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours. 
All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again. 
He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath. 
An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured. 
After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…
And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral. 
“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.
Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.
A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.
Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.
“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”
Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”
Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.
Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him.  “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.
“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”
Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off. 
“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”
Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.
“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”
Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone. 
��I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.” 
You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”
The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.
“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”
Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success. 
And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option. 
“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”
There was no rationalizing this. 
An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.
“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.” 
Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of. 
You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”
Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.
“But you did.”
He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach. 
“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”
This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. 
“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”
Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…” 
“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”
A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”
“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”
Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.
He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”
It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.
“Buck, it’s okay.”
He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off. 
“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.
 “Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”
“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”
A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay. 
You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”
Bucky lifted his head.
“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”  
Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.
“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”
“What?”
“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”
You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this. 
“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”
Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.
Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”
Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words. 
“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”
“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”
Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love. 
A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way. 
When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how. 
“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.” 
Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth. 
“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”
The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything. 
“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”
Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.” 
He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”
You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”
“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after. 
“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche.  “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.
“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”
Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”
“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.
“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”
You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home. 
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divinesolas · 2 months
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First everything
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Summary: in desperate need to pass your upcoming math test you go to your best friend for help, your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with. Sometimes feelings just spill out and theres nothing you can do but embrace it and try to navigate through it.
modern!jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader
w.c: 4.2k
c.w: college au, nerdy jace, two virgins just trying to figure it out, virginity loss (both), fingering (fem), oral (fem), minor hand-job, p in v, protected sex, love confessions, glasses stay on during sex, theres also fluff guys, not proofread
a.n: for my nerdy jace warriors out there 🫡 pls lmk your thoughts !
perm jace taglist (open!) <3 @tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels
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you could not afford to fail this upcoming math test with you’re grade already as rocky as it is and if you didn’t nail it your grades were gonna tank.
So you decide to do the only rational thing you can think of and go stop by your best friends house who just so happens to be basically a genius to get him to tutor you. You don’t text him, having a key to his place and checking his location you can see he’s home he definitely won’t mind you just dropping by.
He’s been your best friend since you two were kids, having lived across the street from you the two of you would always stand by the bus stop together and chat and when you got older he started driving you to school. you guys would spend all the time together though you guys didn’t end up in the same college you guys happened to both get into colleges in the same city and lived right near each other.
He was perfect essentially, you try to ignore that gnawing feeling in your stomach every time you speak to him or even think about him. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember but you never tried to do anything out of fear of ruining the relationship you two have built. You also can’t get a read on if he feels the same, everything you two have ever done has been platonic, cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, having sleepovers, but you can shake the feeling of wanting to be more, maybe he was thinking the same way but you had no clue.
The apartment is quiet when you enter, when you call his name and there’s no response you think for a second maybe he went out and left his phone? but that’s not like him at all. until you walk towards his bathroom and you can hear the shower running and let out a sigh of relief as you begin to set up your stuff in the living room and order some take out for the two of you on your phone.
busying yourself on your phone you don’t even hear the shower turn off or the door open until you hear the soft thumps on the floor of his footsteps and when you look up the two of you gasp at one another. With water dripping down his chest and a firm hand places on the towel around his waist, his glasses all fogged up and his face hot red you feel like you might pass out.
“I’m so sorry oh my god i had no clue you were coming i haven't checked my phone um oh god.” You can barely pay attention to his rambling as you can’t take your eyes off him. Since when was he toned? oh and the towel is low enough you can see his v line. NO! You shake your head as you find yourself heating up, “no no its my fault Jace i never texted you i just thought i would show up um.. I’m so sorry i should have texted.”
He scratches the back of his head as he begins to move his way to his room, “no its okay you can show up any time i just, um i uh let me go get dressed.” With that he quickly rushes away without another word his ears and face blaringly red. when the door shuts and you’re alone once again you lean against the couch and take a couple deep breaths. you cannot be thinking about him like this right now. Your thighs press together unconsciously as the memory of him was still so fresh in your mind.
You quickly stand and rush to his bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to snap yourself out of it. he’s your best friend who you just so happen to be in love with and today will fill your fantasies for the next decade. You manage to get yourself back on the couch and run a hand down your face as you try to calm your racing heart and mind. Its fine its cool its just a normal thing people shower and they just so happen to get naked in the shower its not weird to see your best friend shirtless no its not.
he walks back into the room and sits down on the couch next to you, now dressed in a white t-shirt and some sweatpants, his glasses free of fog but his hair drips onto his shoulders and shirt making some parts of it see through. when you look closely you can even still see his ears are a bright red. “is everything good? its not like you to just show up out of the blue.” you are thankful he’s acting like that did not just happen, or maybe you’re just overthinking it and its not a big deal.
“i need to trade brains with you this Friday at 11 am.” his beautiful laugh fills your ears as he raises his brows at you, “you’re finally admitting I'm smarter than you?” You playfully huff and push his shoulder lightly as he smiles at you. “you’re way better at math then me, i need help Jace please.” you press your hands together in a plea and he taps his chin as if he’s in thought. “I don’t know, what do i get in return?” You pout at him and scoot a bit closer, “you get to hang out with your gorgeous smart and talented best friend?” He blows raspberry's and looks up at the ceiling turning himself away from you. “and i bought take out.” “deal.”
He is a great help, though he’s a history major he’s still places in a math level higher than you and he’s able to guide you though everything you’re struggling with ease. Its usually so easy to ignore how you feel about him but tonight is different. You don't know if its hormones or if there's something in the air but you can’t stop staring at him thinking about him. The way he bites on the top of his pen when he’s in thought, when his forehead creases while he’s checking over your work or listening to you, the way he moves his hands while he talks and explains the problems and the solutions you can’t even stop looking at him while he’s eating.
This was bad. very bad. but at least you managed to get the information he’s told you poured into your head and with his notes you’re sure to ace the test. After a couple hours of studying you two decided to put on a movie but you can’t even cuddle up next to him like you normally would instead choosing to lay on the other side of the couching praying he doesn’t ask about you’re odd behavior.
You can’t help but continue to look at him throughout the movie barely even looking at the screen. he has such a nice side profile. At one point he glances at you and catches your eye so you quickly turn away from him but he sits up and pauses the movie, turning to you with concern laced in his eyes. “Okay spit it out what's wrong?” you. you shrug and try to play it off like nothing, you certainly can’t tell him what's really bothering you. “I’m just worried about the test.” “the you i know would have stopped worrying about the test as soon as you closed that textbook.” you let out a shaky sigh and he moves to sit next to you, staring at you with his puppy dog eyes desperately. “you can always tell me anything you know that right?”
not this. you can’t tell him this. as much as you want to. Yet your heart aches at the thought of not being able to kiss him at the thought of not spending yet another day another minute being his and him being yours. he grabs your hands and his voice is hushed laced with care, “please.”
you cave.
“I'm in love with you.”
You watch him freeze and you take a deep breath as you look down at your connected hands. “i know this is really sudden but i cant hide this any longer. i think I've loved you since the second i met you and i cant keep continuing to pretend like I'm not. If you don’t feel the same that's fine we can just move on and pretend like this never happened.” you let out a fake laugh and a couple shaky breaths as you get off your chest your best kept secret. When he doesn’t say anything you look at his face to see his glossy covered eyes and red tinted face. “Please say something.”
You can feel his hands tighten around yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “I'm so in love with you i feel like i'm gonna throw up.” you laugh as a wave of fresh air washes over you, he grins and lets out his own laugh as a lone tear runs down his face. “fuck this is not how i thought tonight would go.” You don’t know how long the two of you were sitting there just laughing and smiling at each other but it was just so peaceful.
You end up cupping his face and he freezes his breath caught in his throat. “Can i kiss you?” “Please.” The kiss is soft and slow but its everything you’ve every dreamed of. His lips are as soft as they've always looked, he’s clearly inexperienced but you are too and you figure it out together. You feel like you’re not close enough to him, so you end up separating from him and he watches with wide eyes as you sit yourself in his lap. His hands quickly move to grasp your waist as he gulps, you can feel his hardness poking at you through your shorts and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to its just,” he’s quickly cut off with a moan as you pull him into another kiss.
You can feel yourself aching in your stomach, yet you can’t bring yourself to do more until you pull away from his lips. a long string of salvia that connects you two snaps as you begin to speak. “I want to go further, if only you want to.” His chest moves quickly up and down as he tries to catch his breath, he blinks rapidly as he looks at you with swollen lips, one of his hands moves to readjust his glasses. “I do its just, i don’t know what i'm doing.” the two of you softly laugh as you press your forehead against his and he lightly rubs his nose against yours. “I don’t know what I'm doing either, we’ll figure it out.”
His hands around your waist tighten as he places one last kiss on your lips before he stands, you squeal lightly as he keeps you firmly around his waist walking towards his room. “You could put me down you know?” He places a kiss on your cheek and you wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t want to.”
Once in the bedroom he lightly places you down on the bed and he stays standing up unsure of what he’s supposed to do. “do i like take off my clothes um.” You stand and the two of you look at one another. “Why don’t we both undress? or do you want to undress each other?” At your words his eyes light up and his ears couldn’t get any redder, he clearly likes the idea a lot so you grab his hands and place them on your shirt. “You can take it off.” He nods and lets out a shaky breath as he lifts your shirt over your head.
If you had known this was going to happen you would have chosen a cuter bra but you instead stand in your basic skin tone bra, heat rises on your face lightly with embarrassment but the look of amazement on his face has you feeling confident. You grab his hands once more and slide them to your waist where you help him tug down your pants and you stand in just your underwear in front of him. His mouth opens in amazement as his eyes dart all over you. “you’re so beautiful.” “shut up.” “im serious. you’re the most beautiful women ive ever seen. im the luckiest guy in the world.”
You place your hands on his neck as you place a light kiss on his lips. “you’re so sweet.” He shakes his head and his hands cup your face eyes full of love. “im only telling the truth.” Your hands move to the neck of his shirt and grip it. “Your turn.” His bright red face somehow only gets redder when you slide your hands down his chest to grab the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head. “when did you start working out?” He lets out a light moan as your hands drag down his stomach and rub around his chest. “when i moved here uhh the umm the complex has a gym.” You lightly um as your hands reach the waistband of his pants and you begin to toy with the elastic.
He expects you to take off his pants move back to sit on the bed but instead your hands goes inside the waistband to cup his budge from his briefs. The sound he lets out is not what you had been expecting, it sounds something closer to a whine as he questions you, “what are you doing?” You grin at him as his eyes dart all over your face. “Can i touch you?” He pants lightly as your hands already begins to move slight and he gulps. “shouldn’t i touch you? or umm oh i don’t know fuck please.” his head falls to your neck and he begins pecking light kisses on the skin there as your hand slips into his briefs and wraps around him.
He throbs in your hands, you lightly jerk him to see how he responds and you can hear a pleased moan as you continue to pump him in your hand using the precum that drips out of his tip as a lubricant you find a steady pace. He bites into the side of your neck and you let out a shaky moan as his grip tightens on your waist. you can feel wetness soak your skin whether it be his sweat or tears you have no clue but the only thing you can focus on his whines and moans in your ear. “you’re so good fuck fuck.” he must be getting close because you can feel him shaking but he suddenly grabs your hands and pulls them away from him as he pants.
“did i do something wrong? im sorry.” he quickly shakes his head, “no no of course not i just don’t want to um cum right now.” you tilt your head in confusion, why would he not want to cum? until he turns his head and even his neck has turned red and a light bulb flicks over your head and you let out an sound of understanding and grab his sweatpants to pull them down until they hit the floor.
you both stand face to face in just your underwear, you watch him eye your chest and you reach your hands up to unclip your bra. you slowly unclip it and he watches as it drags down your arms and you toss it lightly on the floor. you sit down on the bed and you motion for him to join you. he does and he warily watches your face for approval which you grant before he cups your breasts with a shuttered breath. You can tell somethings bothering him though, theres a look in his eyes that says somethings wrong but before you can question it he speaks.
“can i touch you?” its the same question you had throw at him but it gives you butterflies, you wonder if it had done the same to him. you spread your legs and he stares at the spot between your legs where you’re soaked. theres a huge spot on your practically ruined panties where you’ve begun to leak, theres even some residual wetness on your inner thighs. “fuck.” he licks his lips and looks up at you and your flushed face. “don’t get cocky jace.” he laughs lightly as his fingers press against your slit from the fabric and you let out a moan. he watches for your reactions as he begins to rub you through the fabric, “Jace, please.”
his fingers shake as they push the fabric aside and he touches your folds. “oh fuck you’re so fucking wet.” he just continues to rub at your skin, it feels nice but you both know you need more. “how many should i,,” he trails off, unsure of how to word the question. “two, just to start, you can add another when i tell you.” he nods and slowly pushes two fingers into you.
his fingers feel a lot better than yours do they're thicker and they're longer reaching a bit more than you can and your hands dig into his shoulders. “good?” you hiss lightly for a second as his hands wiggle lightly before nodding. “yes move please.” he quickly listens, pulling his fingers out before slowly pushing them back in methodically. He feeds off every sound you let out and moves quicker as your face contorts in pleasure. it feels good but its not enough and when you tell him he can add another he finger he looks at you unsure but when you reassure him its fine he does and the burn it adds satisfies the itch that you know can only be scratched once he’s inside of you.
when he pulls his fingers out before you can cum you whine but he just smiles at you “lift your hips for me.” you do and he slides your underwear down your legs exposing you fully to him. He takes a second to admire you before your eyes widen as he gets down on his knees, “i thought guys didn’t like that.” you try to tell him but he just shrugs, “i bet i will.”
he kisses you inner thighs slowly working his way up to your slit where he pauses before he lightly licks at your folds before pushing his tongue inside of you. your hand finds it way to his hair as he warily licks every drop of you he can get. when you tug at his hair he groans, you try your best to avoid his glasses which sit pushed up into his hair. Your face contorts with pleasure as you throw your head back. he’s messy and clearly unsure of what he’s doing but it doesn’t matter to you as he brings you closer to your release. you can feel your stomach burning as he suddenly pulls away and looks at you, he looks gorgeous with his hair a mess and his lips glossy.
“could you show me um where uh,,,” your brows furrow in confusion until you laugh and sit up. “its fine here.” you grab his hand and use his finger to push around inside of you until his finger presses against your clit and your moan. you suddenly fall back once again with your hands playing with your breasts while one of his hand plays with your clit and his other on your knee to keep your legs parted while he tongue works his way inside of you. you can no longer ignore the burning in your stomach as it becomes harder and harder to push down. “Jace I'm gonna oh fuck.” the grip you have on his hair tightens as you hiss when he continues to work you till you shake with pleasure and you essence drips into his mouth down his jaw and neck.
He shakily stands and licks his lips seemingly not caring that he was a mess. “do i-“ you pull him down on top of you and press your lips against him in a feverish kiss which he returns, “i want to be on top.” his eyes widen, “will that be good for you?” you nod rapidly eager to feel him inside of you and your eyes practically turn into hearts when he stands and pulls down his briefs, his hardness slapping his stomach you barely get the chance to admire him before he rummages around in his bedside table pulling out a clearly new box of condoms.
he struggles to open them slight with his shaky hands but manages to open it and grab one. when he looks back at you and your amused expression he looks down at the box with embarrassment. “Aegon got it for me. he was trying to tease me.” you grab him to sit on the bed and get him to lay back against the headboard while you grabbed the packet out of his hands. “then ill have to thank him later.”
you open the condom with your teeth before slowly sliding it down his length causing him to hiss and close his eyes to calm himself. the two of you look at each other as you sit up, “are you good?” he nods and lightly thanks you, “are you?” you also nod and you grab him to position him into your opening while he pulls his glasses back down to his face. with one last look you begin to sink down onto him.
you put your forehead against his and the two of you shudder with pleasure the lower and lower you get. once you get as low as you can go you pause and the two of you take a few moments to readjust. his glasses fog up as he catches your lips in his, when your hips move slightly up then back down he bites at your lip before throwing his head back and whines slightly while your mouth lulls open in pleasure.
You two find a simply rhythm with you moving up and down. sweat covering your bodies as the two of you sing in pleasure, his glasses are basically completely covered now with fog and you take them off his face before shoving your lips messily against his as his hands grip your hips to help you move up and down on him. the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and moans and whines fill the hot room. he throbs inside of you as he hits spots you've never been able to reach, your head falls into the cave of his neck neck as you feel yourself close. “Jace fuck you’re so good fuck.” he whines and bites your shoulder again “please cum please Jace fuck wanna feel it.” he cries into your neck as he nods, “i love you i love you so much.” “i love you too Jace.” when he feels you release around him it pushes him over the edge where he's shooting his load into his condom.
the two of you fall completely on top of each other in a sweaty sticky mess. you catch your breaths unable to think straight. no words are spoken for awhile until you sit up lightly and push the hair away from his sweaty face. “we should have done that sooner.” the two of you laugh as you peck his lips. “i really love you a lot Jace.” he beams and grabs his glasses to fiddle them back onto his face. “i love you too.” you hum and kiss his cheek. “as nice as you being inside me is i really have to pee.” the two of you hiss as you pull away and he sits up to watch you stumble your way towards the bathroom. he tosses the condom away and he stands to get a cup of water not bothering to put on any of his clothes.
he hands you a glass when you walk out of the bathroom and you chug it down before looking at yourself with disgust. “i need a shower.” “you can use it i don't mind.” you roll your eyes and slap his shoulder much to his confusion. “that's when you’re supposed to say then lets take one together dummy.” his face flushes for the millionth time that night as you walk away and sigh as you turn to see him not following you. “come on you’re not gonna leave me alone are you?” he downs his glass and quickly hurries to follow you as you giggle.
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ftmboi-hooters · 4 months
Text
Enjoy reliving this situation with me:
reader: good boy, toy, puppy, tdick, nub, hole, slit, pussy
I stand at the kitchen counter preparing my breakfast, when my partner lays their arms around me from behind. They playfully thrust against my ass, while I continue with my food. Their hand wanders along my body, stopping at my throat. Like a natural reaction, my head falls back, giving them space to grab on to my throat comfortably. They thrust against me harder, knowing they just turned off my last bit of rational thinking. Their other hand slides over my clothes between my legs to grope my pussy. Suddenly, they let go of me.
"Did I break my little toy again?"
They laugh. I look at the empty bowl in front of me, trying to form words, but nothing happens. It's embarrassing how easy it is to shut my brain off. I can't even complain about it.
Next thing I know, their hands are back, choking and groping me.
"You wouldn't enjoy this, would you?"
They rub my pussy through my sweatpants.
"No. That would be disgusting"
My voice is breathy and shaking.
"That's what I thought"
With every thrust I feel them hardening against me. Their hand starts wandering to my waistband, to slide into my sweatpants.
"If you're not enjoying this, I'm sure you aren't wet, right?"
"Of course not. That would be disgusting. Who would enjoy something like this?"
"Right, who would enjoy being used like a toy?"
Two fingers slide along my dripping wet slit.
"You're not wet at all"
They tease me as their fingers enter me. After a few thrusts they slip back out to stroke my tdick. My legs begin to betray me, making me hold on to the counter to keep my balance.
"What kind of sick person would enjoy this?"
I whisper as I get close way too fast.
"Good puppys don't cum in the kitchen"
I begin repeating to myself.
"Good puppys only cum around cock"
They add as they mercilessly continue stroking, grinding their hard cock against me in the same rythm.
"Good puppys don't cum in the kitchen. They only cum around cock."
I start whimpering my mantra, struggling to keep myself together.
Their grinding grows more and more impatient. If they could just fuck me senseless then and there... But we don't live alone.
They stop the stroking to pick me up with one hand on my crotch. I don't know if there's a more humiliating way to be carried by someone. Seconds later they throw me onto my bed, shut the door and get right back to playing with my poor little nub. Soon I'm back to whimpering.
"Good puppys only cum around cock"
I stumble over my words trying to whisper them faster the closer I get. My body so tense from holding back the pleasure.
"Would you like to cum? Would you like to cum around my cock?"
I nod.
"You want me deep inside you? Want me to abuse your little hole?"
I nod again.
They slide off my pants with easy, quickly removing theirs as well. The upper half of my body is laying on my bed, my feet touching the ground, my ass sticking out, ready to be used. They step close to me, sliding their hard cock between my legs and along my wet slit. They rub against my swollen tdick, making me body shiver and gasp into the mattress.
"fuck I just want to use you"
They groan as they rub their cock against me a few more times, as they visibly loose control over themselves. They pull out between my legs to rub their spit on my hole and their dick.
"Ready to be railed?"
They whisper as they position themselves and slide in slowly. Every few centimetres I gasp and moan, gripping onto the bedsheets, feeling them fill me out further.
"There's still a bit left. Do you think you can take it all?"
"yes - yes master"
I whimper desperate for more.
They push further, bottoming out deep inside me. The feeling of being filled out is overwhelming. I shiver and spasm before they slowly pull back out. My pussy cleches around their cock, not wanting to let it go. But they just started.
Again they slide in deep. A bit faster than before, but still warming up. And of course my whole body shivers again as they enter me fully. They continue this a few more times, slowly increasing their pace.
"fuck I love your pussy"
They pause for a second to grab onto my waist before plowing into my mercilessly. I whimper and moan while my body slides back and forth on the bed with their thrusts. Soon they have their fingers back stroking my tdick, making me loose the last of my senses.
"Cum for me. Cum around my cock, darling"
My moans get faster and breathy as I get close. I clench around their cock making them groan with pleasure as well. Soon I'm only whimpering and my whole body pulses as I cum.
"Good boy"
They continue rubbing me as they fuck me harder, their cock being squeezed by my overwhelmed pussy. My whimpers are drowned out by their groans of pleasure.
"fuck~"
A few deep thrusts later I feel their cock pulsating inside me, filling me up with their seed, sending shivers through me again. They collapse exhausted on top of me.
"thank you"
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candylix · 5 months
Text
great minds think alike | bang chan
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A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.
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You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?
This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.
You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.
Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.
Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.
Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.
"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.
He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.
"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.
"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.
"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."
"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."
"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.
"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."
'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.
"I hope I don't distract you, then."
He laughs nervously at your comment.
"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.
You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.
While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.
'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'
There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.
'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'
His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.
You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.
He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.
You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.
"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.
"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.
You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.
You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.
Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.
It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.
He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.
Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.
"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.
'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'
You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.
"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."
"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."
He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."
"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."
"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.
"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.
You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.
For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.
You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"
"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.
He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.
You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.
You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.
"Me too," you admit.
As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.
"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"
"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."
"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."
You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.
You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.
Although he would argue otherwise.
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EPILOGUE:
You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.
"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"
You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.
You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.
He looks at your score.
'Wow, what a terrible grade.'
He looks back at you.
"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.
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❁𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙰 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛
Warnings: Penetrative sex, aphrodisiac { pollen }
A/n: I am so sorry this is horrible, this is my first time writing GN smut.
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A flower, yo were tasked with finding a flower, a bright pink flower if you wanted to be exact.
Dropping your shoulders you carefully picked the thing only for the damn thing to blast bright pollen in your face, gripping the stem of the plant you didn't even notice Ford stepping out behind you.
"Oh so you found it! Perfect....are you feeling alright."
Shuddering, you glanced at Ford with narrowed eyes. "What the fuck."
Rubbing the back of his neck, Ford gave you a sheepish smile as his cheeks turned a bright pink. "It is an aphrodisiac...I did not expect.!"
"Ford!"
"I...I'll take it too." Ford stuttered out as he looked over your flushed form as he inhaled the pollen too, a shudder running through his body.
Squeezing your legs shut, a whimper escaped your lips. "Fuck....Ford why would you."
Doing his best to stay calm, Ford ignored the hammering in his heart as he wrapped his six fingers around your hand. "It was for science."
Biting back a snort, you shook your head as a weak laugh escaped your lips. "You gonna fuck me for science."
Blushing Ford continued to pull you back the lab, his pants were becoming uncomfortable now.
“I..."He blinked a few times, he felt hot, he felt,turned on. Letting out a weak laugh he turned to face you.
"We would have trials but...if you don't mind." Ford asked, finally back in his office his hands moved to your hips. "You are my partner after all..." he cleared out his throat shifting his body, his erection throbbing now.
Letting out a soft laugh, you sunk your teeth into your lip as your hand ran down his chest. "Then I guess you have to fuck me for science."
Letting out a deep chuckle, he tilted your chin up and lowered his mouth to yours in a tender kiss. He poured all his feelings into it, once he broke the kiss. Ford rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes. "You do not have to do this, I can...take matters into my own hands."
Shaking your head, you pulled the man in for another kiss. "I want this...I want you to fuck me Stanford."
Ford's breath caught at your explicit consent. Month's of pent up longing and desire boiled over, an inferno engulfing any semblance of rational thought and restraint.
Crushing his mouth to yours in a fierce, starved kiss, he hauled your body against his hardness, intoxicated by the feel of you at last in his arms. You gasped into his mouth as his erection, ground against your heat through the thin fabric.
Breaking the kiss with a groan, he grasped your thighs and lifted you effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Turning his head, he nipped along your neck, laving his tongue over every sensitive spot he discovered.
"You have no idea...how long I've dreamed of this..." He muttered raggedly against your skin. His hands roamed your body with unrestrained hunger, pausing to palm your chest and roll a pebble hard nipple between his fingers.
The desk no impediment as he found your hole with his thick length. Locking eyes with you, he slid inside with one deep thrust, until he was fully seated to the hilt. Your gasp of pleasure at being filled so wholly and a low masculine groan of satisfying left them both teetering on the edge.
Ford began to move, withdrawing almost fully before surging back in a relentless rhythm. His mouth devoured yours ravenously, swallowing every moan and sigh as sheer bliss cascaded through him. At long last, his star, his entire universe was in his arms, joined with him utterly as he took you with abandon. Papers on the ground, glasses sliding off the desk with each thrust.
An airy laugh escaping your lips as you clutched the desk, grasping the hard surface. "Who knew the old timer could still get it." You teased as your fingers ran through his dark gray hair.
Ford groaned at your teasing words, making him fuck into you even harder and faster. An animalistic side surging to the surface in his unrestrained claiming of you.
"I'll try to not throw out my back." he growled gutturally, nipping your earlobe between his teeth. He felt wildly out of control but you were right there with him, meeting each powerful thrust and clawing at his back.
Hooking one arm under your knee, he hit an even deeper angle that had you screaming his name to the heavens. The sound only served to further unravel his tenuous hold on sanity.
He could feel the tension coiling impossibly tighter low in his abdomen. Glancing down between your joined bodies, the erotic sight of his glistening cock pounding relentlessly into you, he felt a flush to his cheeks as he hid his face in your neck.
"..I'm so close" he pleaded roughly. Sliding a hand between your sticky thighs, a few more strokes and you would fly over the edge into ecstasy.
"Ford! Shit don't stop...please." A whine slipping from your lips.
Ford shuddered, feeling you clench around him, his breath labored as you convulsed deliciously around his throbbing length, milking him for all he was worth, he lost himself completely to instinct. His hips snapped at a punishing pace.
The pollen, the pollen had to be effecting him. Bringing his hidden feelings to the surface.
"Mine," he snarled possessively, attacking your lips voraciously. One hand clenched your thigh in an unyielding grip. You mentally laugh at the thought of his six fingers leaving a print.
A deep groan leaving your lips feeling your release hit you as his own release hit like a freight train, detonating through him in burning waves as he slammed his hips flush against yours one final time. Thick spurts of molten seed flooded your hole, his primal grunts of satisfaction echoing around you amidst the fading echoes of your squeals.
Still locked intimately together, his labored breaths stirred your hair as he barely held your boneless form aloft with his arms. Gradually the frenzied haze lifted from his eyes, leaving only a sated glow of deep intimacy and devotion. Gazing down at your flushed, ravished appearance, his mouth curved in a wolfish smile of ownership and affection. "Mine."
Shaking your head, you brought your hand weakly ruffling his hair. Shaking your head you then fixed his glasses. "Yes...yours...I'm yours Ford."
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makoodles · 1 year
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ミ the mightiest
part one | part two
🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader
🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
notes: adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!
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It was just a fluke, you tell yourself. A moment of weirdness that had come about because… because…
Okay, so you can’t really explain it.
You don’t like Neteyam! You never have! The sight of him appearing while you’re mid-rendezvous with Txetyo (the same man he had interrupted you with only a few days before!) should have sent you into an angry tailspin. And yet, you can’t forget the pulse of excitement that had throbbed low in your belly when you realised that he was standing there watching you.
Really, you should have been the one to speak up. But it was like your brain had switched off, like all your rational thoughts had gone on a temporary leave of absence; why else would you have stayed silent instead of stopping Txetyo and drawing attention to Neteyam’s presence?
Just like after your last confusing encounter with Neteyam in the healing hut, you end up sticking close to the human outpost for the next week.
It’s probably a little cowardly to hide instead of facing your problems head on, but you don’t care. You avoid Neteyam, you avoid Txetyo, you avoid any of the guys you’ve had flings with before because even the sight of them reminds you of what had happened that night in the forest. Inevitably, that leads to you avoiding the village entirely.
The outpost is as boring as ever, but it’s better than facing the mortification that’s no doubt awaiting you in the village. But at the very least, it’s not lonely.
Spider is kind enough to keep you company in the outpost for the first few days, though you quickly wish he wouldn’t. There’s not much to do, and Spider never deals well with boredom.
“Quit that.” You grit out, your eyes sliding sideways.
Spider is sitting next to you, drumming his fingers insistently on his thighs. He sighs, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling and leaning back on the lumpy couch you’re both sprawled on.
“This is mind-numbing.” He complains, throwing his dirty bare feet over your thighs. “It’s so boring here. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time inside in my whole life.”
“You don’t have to be here.” You remind him, shoving his feet off you.
Spider sighs, swinging his legs back to the ground so he can sit up properly. “Right, sure. I could leave you here alone to mope all day by yourself in your dank little bedroom. Or you could tell me what’s going on with you.”
You grumble, and avert your eyes. Okay, so maybe your avoidance has been a little more obvious than you had intended. You’ve barely missed a day in the village your whole life, and yet in the last two weeks you’ve spent most of your time hiding out in the outpost.
“Nothing’s going on.” You say, and it rings hollow even to your own ears.
Spider purses his lips. He seems pointedly unconvinced, and stretches back on the couch with his arms across the back of the headrest.
“So it has nothing to do with whatever the hell happened when you went off with Txetyo during the hunt celebrations?”
You almost wince, but manage to keep your expression neutral as you stare at your knees. “Nope.”
Spider hums. “And I suppose the fact that Neteyam very conspicuously disappeared into the forest about ten seconds after you left is also unrelated.”
That cracks your composure, and you take a shaky breath as you glance sideways at Spider’s face. He doesn’t look like he’s judging you or anything; he’s just waiting patiently for your answer, a single eyebrow raised.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You mutter, avoiding his eyes.
There’s a long pause, and then Spider huffs out a sigh and tilts his head back to stare at the water-stained ceiling up above you. You feel a little bad about keeping secrets from him; usually you and Spider act as each other’s confidants by virtue of the fact that the two of you are humans the same age amongst all the Na’vi. But this whole mess with Neteyam is something that you’re struggling to wrap your own head around – you don’t want to start explaining the whole mortifying ordeal to someone who was as good as your brother.
“Lo’ak’ll get it out of you.” Spider says confidently.
You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me he’s not coming over.”
“He’s worried.” Spider protests. “You’ve been acting super weird, dude.”
“He’s nosey.” You correct.
Spider shrugs, unable to argue that point. “Well, whatever.”
It’s as if speaking his name summons him, because the shoddy linoleum floor creaks behind you as a big nine-feet-tall body steps into the room. You catch a glimpse of bright blue skin out of the corner of your eye and groan, tipping your head back against the back of the couch and closing your eyes.
“Seriously, I am not in the mood to be interrogated by the Idiot Brigade today.” You complain. “Can’t you come back and bother me another time?”
There’s a pause. And then, a low voice filled with amusement says, “Am I a member of this “idiot brigade?”
That is not Lo’ak’s voice.
For a moment, you don’t even turn around. You just breathe slowly, your eyes shut tight. Maybe if you don’t turn and look, Neteyam will just vanish from your presence as if he had never spoken at all.
But instead of Neteyam’s spontaneous disappearance, you get Spider shifting on the lumpy couch beside you before climbing to his feet. Your eyes shoot open at that, and your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief.
“Where are you going?” You hiss, already reaching out after him.
Spider stops, hesitates, his eyes flicking between you and Neteyam. He looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere other than here; you know the feeling.
“Uh… I’m gonna go find Lo’ak.” Spider mutters, his eyes darting around cagily. “Seems like you two probably need time to talk some things out.”
Before you can even protest that, Neteyam is stepping forward, marching his way around the couch. You sit up, properly startled now, realising that your window for escape is rapidly narrowing.
“Tell Lo’ak not to come.” Neteyam says simply, stepping nimbly around the couch so that he’s in front of you. It’s like he knows that you were thinking of an escape, because he tilts his head as a subtle smile tugs at his mouth.
“Yeah. Got it.” Spider sounds a little strangled, sending you a look that you can’t quite decipher before turning and scampering out the door, letting it slide shut behind him with a quiet thud.
You stare at him for a long moment, your mouth hanging open like a moron. Neteyam just stares back, his expression even, as though he’s waiting for you to speak first.
You swallow thickly, then push yourself up so that you’re standing. It’s a weak attempt to put yourself on a more even level with him, but it fails as you find yourself eye-level with his damn belly button.
“What are you doing here?” You snap, though it comes out a little weaker than you had intended.
Neteyam doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he gingerly lowers himself down onto the ancient lumpy couch that you and Spider had commandeered for yourselves from the desolate wreckage of Bridgehead. He’s almost comically large for it, his knees bent awkwardly up as he settles back, the springs creaking ominously.
“You have been avoiding the village.” He says simply.
And… oh god, you can’t stop staring. It’s stupid, because you’ve known Neteyam your whole life, you know what he looks like. But it’s like your eyes are taking him in differently now. You hadn’t spent much time with him as kids; you were always chasing after Lo’ak, Kiri, and Spider, and Neteyam usually maintained a distance as he trained under the guidance of his parents. And then he was gone, departed for the reef villages, only to return after the worst of the war years had passed.
But it’s different now. He’s a man, his shoulders broader than ever and his muscles more defined than is typical of the Omaticaya warriors – no doubt thanks to his time in the reefs with the bulkier Metkayina.
Your mouth is a little dry; it’s not a good time to be reminded that you find big, muscly Na’vi men really, really attractive.
“Yeah.” You say, your voice scratchy. “Uh… I’ve been busy.”
Neteyam’s hairless brow raises in an unspoken gesture of doubt as he leans back into the couch. Your eyes dart down nervously over his abdomen. Each sculpted abdominal muscle speaks of his physical prowess and the sheer discipline and dedication to his training, and his slim waist is accentuated by the woven battle band around his waist. Fuck, you want to touch his belly.
You can hardly believe that you had this man’s cock in your hand, or that he had been grunting and fucking your fist. Maybe you had hallucinated that. Looking at him like this, taking in his big amber eyes and strong jawline and high cheekbones, you’re reminded rather harshly of just why he’s one of the most sought-after men in the village by the unmated Omaticaya girls. It seems unlikely that he’d ever lower himself to allow himself to be touched by you.
And yet, you know you hadn’t hallucinated him standing only mere feet from you in the forest, watching intently as Txetyo had railed you into the mossy ground.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, Neteyam speaks again. “Avoiding Txetyo? I do not blame you.
You almost choke at that. Good lord, the audacity of this man. He knows perfectly well that you’ve also been trying to avoid him, judging by the smug look on his face.
“No! He- he wasn’t so bad.” You protest, though the words ring unconvincingly in your own ears.
“Tawtute, you’re so tight!” Neteyam gasps mockingly, lowering his voice into a dude-bro register that decidedly does not sound like Txetyo. “Fuck, you’re so wet, I’m gonna cum—"
You squawk, hastily stepping forward to swat ineffectually at his shoulder. “Will you shut up, that’s not what–“
Neteyam grabs at your wrist when you smack his shoulders, his long fingers wrapping all the way around you before tugging. You stagger, pulled off balance as he tugs you onto the couch beside him. You end up with your limbs in an ungainly sprawl as you attempt to collect yourself beside him, flustered behind belief. He doesn’t let go of your wrist.
“And he– he made me finish, so.” You say lamely. You’re sitting next to him. Why are you sitting next to him? You should be trying to shove him up off the couch and shoo him out the door.
“I’m pretty sure you made yourself come.” Neteyam corrects, his head tilting. His glossy braids spill over his shoulders, colourful beads clicking together. “Which wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t there, by the way.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just pointing out the obvious.” Neteyam’s smug little grin is growing, and he leans in a little closer. “I don’t think you were enjoying it at all until I showed up.”
You gape at him, stunned.
“I- you-!” You stammer, your breath catching from the sheer swell of your indignation. Who does he think he is, showing up here all muscled and gorgeous like this only to embarrass you?
“Speak for yourself!” You finally manage to splutter, trying to sit up on the couch; Neteyam’s grip on your wrist prevents you from going too far, so you give up and resign yourself to being stuck beside him until he grows bored of tormenting you. “Txetyo was– That was pretty much par for the course. I mean– it wasn’t unusual, sometimes that’s just how sex goes–“
Neteyam sits up straight, so suddenly that it startles you. His brow is furrowed, his eyes flicking rapidly over your face as though he’s trying to assess if you’re being honest.
He’s… he’s leaning in rather close to you. You blink at him, but don’t move back. It’s so rare for you to be around Neteyam without your respirator mask acting like a shield over your face, and you feel a little naked now without it.
“That was a standard experience for you?” He asks, and his voice has… changed a little. That smug amusement on his face has vanished, replaced with what looks like bewilderment.
You scoff at his surprise, rolling your eyes. “Shouldn’t you know what my standard experience is? You’ve interrupted enough of them.”
He doesn’t respond to your snarky remark. He just stares at you as if he’s examining you, and you shift awkwardly on the couch, unsure in the face of his scrutiny.
“What, you’re surprised that all men aren’t sex gods?” You ask a little testily. “They want to experiment with a Sky Person, and I like sex with Na’vi men, so… win-win.”
Neteyam just frowns, pulling back a little. “No, that’s not… I don’t understand. Why do you spend time with them if they are not successful in pleasuring you?”
Boy, is that a loaded question. You don’t want to explain to Neteyam that it’s not really about sex, that it’s more about a pathological need for physical connection and comfort, especially when you try your very hardest not to think about it yourself.
“Maybe I’m just hoping one of them will really impress me.” You mumble, a little sourly. “I guess I’ll keep holding out hope.”
Neteyam’s ears flatten, pressing low against his head as his eyes widen a little. He shifts, his body looming over you like a big blue behemoth as the couch springs squeal beneath his weight.
“I could.” He says. “Impress you, I mean.”
You snort, glancing up at him with a wry sort of smile that falls off your face almost immediately when you see the look on Neteyam’s face. His expression is perfectly earnest, his jaw set and his pupils dilated with an odd sort of urgency that you’ve never seen from him. He… he doesn’t look as though he’s making fun of you at all.
“What?” You croak, blinking.
And then you realise what all this about. Neteyam is always so determined to prove himself, to be the best at everything. He’s always pushed himself beyond his limits and worked himself to the bone to be stronger and faster and wiser, to be a better leader and a better hunter and a better fighter. You probably shouldn’t even be surprised that now he’s decided to prove that he’s better than his peers at fucking you, too.
“This is just a competition for you, isn’t it?” You scoff, yanking your wrist out of his hand. He shifts forward on the couch then as though preparing to catch you if you move to run, but you’re not making any move to leave.
“No. They are not worthy competitors.” Neteyam scoffs as if the question is absurd. “This is to prove to you that you have been wasting your time with men who are not capable of pleasing you.”
You scoff again, but it’s a much weaker sound this time. “I–”
“You have bad taste in men, paskalin.” Neteyam murmurs, shuffling closer on the ancient couch.
You stare up at him, your breath catching a little in your chest. God, he’s so much bigger than you. You hate that it’s making your body heat up, and you feel yourself growing wet as he leans in close, smelling like fresh water and the forest.
“Are you going to let me?” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to trace a finger along your jawline. “Let me prove myself.”
You should say no. You should tell him to leave, to get out. You should absolutely not feed into his own ego by fucking him.
“Yes,” You breathe stupidly. “Okay.”
You’re expecting him to grab you immediately and flip you around onto either your back or stomach; in all your previous experiences, you’ve gotten right down to it with your partners. But to your surprise, Neteyam leans in and holds your hips with his big hands as he presses his mouth to yours in a kiss.
Kissing is not something that you’re used to; the Na’vi you’ve hooked up with have stayed clear of the human outpost, unlike the Sully kids who had paid frequent visits, which means that all of your sexual encounters have occurred in the forest or in empty corners in the village with your respirator mask firmly attached to your face.
Now your face feels naked and vulnerable, and you gasp shakily against Neteyam’s mouth when he leans in and kisses you firmly.
It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body.
Neteyam doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. He kisses with his hands, his whole body. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backward, your body pressing into the raggedy couch cushions.
At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Neteyam’s hands running over you, stroking your sides and clutching your neck and squeezing your ass.
“Hah,” You gasp out when Neteyam’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you’re embarrassingly wet already, just from a little kissing.
Fuck, he’s a good kisser. That’s so annoying.
You run out of breath too fast, and you have to gasp. Neteyam breaks the kiss for barely even a second, and shifts some of his weight to his elbows as he follows you down onto the couch, nuzzling and nipping at your jaw before returning to your mouth.
There’s a hand on either side of your head during that blink-and-you-miss-it break in the kiss, but then he moves his big hands to hold onto your face like they’re afraid you’ll escape, and now they don’t want to let go at all. One of his hands cups your jaw, the other clasping around the back of your neck and tilting your head farther back, deeper into the couch, opening you up. You think about the fact that he can thread his fingers together behind your head with his palms pressed to your cheeks and nearly moan like a whore into his mouth.
Neteyam’s eagerness surprises you. The kiss is messy and graceless and airless and greedy, frantic and full of teeth, and you can only roll your hips in reflex, in mindless desperation, in a feeble attempt to buck, your mind repeating a refrain of yes holy shit holy shit YES. You can’t even squirm, because holy hot fuck Neteyam is heavy, and he’s got every inch of you covered and owned.
God, have you always been this easy? Just kiss you, feel you up a little and want you enough and you’ll end up happily whimpering under someone on the couch? Even someone like Neteyam, who you’ve been so resentful of for so long?
You spread your thighs, and Neteyam’s narrow hips slot into place like a damn puzzle piece. Neteyam hums a small laugh and pauses, pulls back an inch or so, gazing steadily at your lips and smoothing the tips of his thumbs back and forth over your cheekbones. He takes a moment to fumble with his respirator and takes a deep breath before dropping it and leaning down to kiss you again.
“Oh, fuck.” You whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when his hips roll fluidly against you.
You pull back from the kiss, just enough to get a look at his face. His eyes are a little clouded, his lips puffy and spit-slicked. He looks dazed, and there's a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths together. His brow scrunches in a frown, as though you pulling away from him is a personal offence.
Oh god, you think. I'm so fucked.
The hand that had been cupping your cheek releases you, slides down your body as well. Your breath hitches when he passes over your breasts, drags down the plush skin of your belly, before reaching in between your thighs to cup at your pussy over your clothes. His hand tightens, grabbing you. Cunt, pubic bone, the whole shebang, all of it right there in the palm of Neteyam’s shockingly big hand.
“Bedroom.” You gasp, your head spinning as he just holds your cunt over your denim shorts. “Bedroom now.”
Neteyam grins, and wraps his arms around your waist to haul you into his arms before he lifts you off the couch and practically staggers down the hall. His excitement surprises you, and you cling to his neck as he ducks his way through the corridor.
Mercifully the outpost is quiet today, with most of its human occupants out in the forest or in the village – that means there’s no one around the witness the sight of Neteyam’s enormous blue ass squeezing himself in through the small doorway of the closet-like bedroom you’d claimed for yourself, with you dangling from his arms like a doll.
You’re still breathing hard when Neteyam clumsily gets the door shut before placing you on your squeaky old bed, following you down on it. He’s careful not to crush you with the bulk of his body, instead resting his weight on his forearms where they’re planted on either side of your head.
The consideration makes something squirm in your belly, and you reach up to intertwine your fingers at the back of his head and pull him down to resume kissing him.
Neteyam rolls his hips into yours, and you can feel the thick ridge of his erection pressing into the seam of your shorts, right over your clit. The sound you make is absolutely humiliating, and you will deny ever making it until your last breath, but you twitch as you try to catch that exact same friction again.
And fuck, kissing like this may be new to you, but you never want to stop. You didn’t even know that kissing with tongue could feel so erotic; Neteyam’s hands are on your face again, angling you this way and that way and however the fuck Neteyam feels like angling you, and goddamn he must be doing it just because he can.
You try desperately to remember any little kissing tricks you’ve learned and draw a pathetic blank. Luckily, Neteyam seems intent on showing off. His creativity is more than enough to occupy you both, and you’re too busy being excruciatingly horny to really be self-conscious anyway.
Besides, your next exhale is a chest-rattling groan, and if Neteyam’s immediate grunt of approval and slow thirsty grind against your trapped body is any indication, then you're doing just fine by his standards.
But then, to your absolute distress, Neteyam pulls away.
“Hhh — Shit! Shit, hang on. Shit.” Neteyam hisses, turning his face away and levering himself up on his arms. He’s breathing hard, and the sound of the English curse words falling out of his mouth in that strained tone of voice has your thighs squeezing together pathetically.
“What?” You ask, your voice sounding dazed and stupid even to your own ears.
Neteyam huffs out a few centering breaths and then shakes out his head to clear it. He fumbles for the respirator, takes several deep gulps of air before dropping it again. He angles his hips away from you for a moment, breathing steadily.
“Why’d you stop?” You hate the way the words come out as a whine; you feel as though you’re losing your mind, as though you’re actually going to die if he doesn’t keep kissing you.
Neteyam breathes out a quiet laugh, sounding a little disbelieving as he drops his forehead down to rest on your shoulder.
“Fuck.” He whispers, but he doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he pushes himself down your body, sliding between your legs.
When he tugs your shorts, you lift your hips eagerly to help him shuck your pants off. As he’s tugging at your panties, you work on yanking your oversized pyjama shirt off you. It feels as though the two of you are descending into a frenzy, touching and kissing and tearing at each other like animals.
When you’re naked beneath him you shiver, staring up at him in eager anticipation. You wait for him to come back up and kiss you, to take his own loincloth off and stick his cock into you, but he doesn’t. Instead, his head bullies its way in between your thighs.
“No,” You whine, making a face. You don’t want him to waste time with eating you out when you’re ready now. “Just put it in.”
Neteyam shoots you a reproachful look as though he thinks you’re acting crazy. “You said you would let me please you.”
“But–” You frown, feeling a little ridiculous for having this conversation when his big head is blinking up at you from between the pudge of your thighs. “You don’t have to. I don’t enjoy getting head all that much anyway.”
But instead of changing his mind, that just makes him snort as though you’d told a damn joke.
“Let me show you, syulang.” He whispers, turning his head and brushing his lip over the soft skin of your inner thigh. He kisses you there, and then sucks a hickey-like bruise into the squidge there.
And damn, you can’t turn him down.
“Fine.” You sigh, a little irritated, and spread your legs wider so that Neteyam can muscle his way in.
He grins as if he knows something you don’t, grabs your legs and pulls them so your thighs are hanging off his big broad shoulders. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over you between your legs, and you prepare to lie back and let him lick you down there until he deems you’re wet enough to start fucking you properly.
But then he actually gets his mouth on you, and… oh. Oh.
You tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. That feels… better than you had expected, actually.
Each of Neteyam’s movements are calculated, precise. He laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks. You nearly yelp, but manage to tamp down on your reaction and merely wheeze instead. Neteyam points his tongue and presses inside of you, sucks and licks like he’s actually eating something. At one point, he even bites, and you jerk so hard that you accidentally grind against his face.
It’s not like any of the head you have ever received. You’ve enjoyed it before, sure, but it’s never felt like this, and it’s definitely never made you come. And yet, to your honest surprise, you can feel a familiar coil of tension beginning to build deep in your abdomen.
“Oh god.” You breathe, sounding a little bewildered.
You feel his tongue against your clit again, hardly noticing that his hands are gripping at your ass until he yanks you forward as he buries his whole damn face between your legs. His fingers return, delving into you, deep and searching. His mouth works against your clit and it feels like you’re being squeezed between the kinds of pleasure, worshipped and wrung out and attacked all at once.
“Neteyam,” You gasp like a fool. “Oh, what the fuck, it– Neteyam, hang on, it’s too–”
Neteyam is still devouring you, sucking hard and persistent until you cry out. You try to clench your thighs around his head as he laps at you like a man starved, but his hands are still on your thighs, locking you in an iron grip, keeping you spread wide for him, and you can hardly breath because every time you think to try and take a breath his tongue is moving over your clit again and he’s sucking against you.
Your head swims, and you wonder why on earth you had been so resistant to allow him to make you feel good like this. Fuck, have you just been getting really bad head this whole time? You didn’t even know it could feel like this.
Your heels are digging into his back, and the closer he brings you to the edge the harder your thighs clamp around his head. He barely seems to notice the force you’re exerting, merely groaning to himself everytime you squeeze tighter.
Your thoughts splinter and unravel, and you can do nothing but buck uselessly against his hold, desperately chasing more of his lips and his tongue.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” You chant, eyes squeezed shut tight as you whine.
He's just so good with his tongue, and you’ve never felt like this in your life. It feels as though you can't breathe properly, as though you’re melting from the inside out. None of those awkward, fumbling sexual encounters with those other Na’vi ever had you feeling like this.
Your breasts are heaving with the effort it takes just to breathe through the white hot pleasure crashing through you, and you stare down at him with wide eyes as he suckles again at your clit. When he sees you looking down at him, he throws you a cheeky wink as he laps at you.
You let out a helpless, gasping laugh at him, your hands clenching compulsively in his braids. Your giggle has him pulling back a little so he can look up at you properly; the grin he shoots you is extra shiny thanks to the fact that the lower half of his face is covered in his spit and your own slick, but he looks dopey and happy.
You manage one word, on a long and broken moan- “Please!”
Neteyam laughs quietly, the sound vibrating through his lips and into your pussy, but then his tongue is on your clit again, sucking you into his mouth, and you’re shattering around him as he finally pushed you over that edge you’ve been teetering on.
You keen and shake violently, spasming around Neteyam’s fingers and jerking into his mouth, coming so hard that you see black spots in your vision. Neteyam doesn’t let up, pulling broken moans out of you with tongue until you’re writhing.
You squirm and whimper until suddenly it’s too damn much, and then you’re reaching down to push at Neteyam’s neat braids to try to get away from his relentless tongue. Damn, he’s acting like he’s hungry for you, like he’d swallow you whole if he could. He doesn’t let up until you’re begging him to, albeit wordlessly — whimpering and shoving at his face, trying to arch away from the too-sensitive touch.
Finally, Neteyam relents. He lowers your legs from his shoulders and you practically crumple, going limp against your mattress. Neteyam’s face is wet and shiny, and he looks ridiculously smug. You’re still trembling, throbbing with the aftershocks.
“Mm, you sound so pretty.” Neteyam murmurs, his words coming out muffled and almost slurred as though he’s drunk.
“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes as you struggle to catch your breath.
Neteyam hums, pressing kisses all over your pubic mound and lower belly. He seems so damn pleased with himself, pushing himself up your body so that he can nuzzle into your neck, pressing sweet nipping kisses to your throat.
His breathing is a little strained, and you grab blindly at the respirator hanging around his neck before bringing the mask up to his face.
“Breathe, Neteyam.” You gasp out, still a little breathless yourself.
He grunts, as though irritated over something of secondary importance, and takes a couple of deep breaths before dropping the mask again. His pupils are blown so wide that his iris is barely visible, just a thin ring of gold around a pool of black.
You laugh, panting and overwhelmed at the sight of his shiny face, and reach up to wipe his slick face with the palms of your hands. He huffs a quiet laugh of his own, turning his face towards your hands and nuzzling against you like an oversized cat.
“That was… that was better than I expected.” You say, still struggling to collect yourself.
Neteyam’s smile turns a little sly, his teeth flashing as he kisses at your palms. “Impressed?”
And you can’t help but laugh at that, feeling as though this whole situation is spinning around far beyond your wildest imagination. Fuck, he’s really giving his all to this, just to prove to you that he’s superior to the other men of the clan.
“Not yet.” You whisper, biting your lip and hoping that he takes it as the challenge/invitation you mean it to be.
And luckily he does, his smile only growing.
“I should keep going then.” He murmurs, his hands stroking up your sides.
He gently caresses both breasts, a little knead of big, rough hands that can cover much more than just one tit and you love it. Your back arches as you shiver, revelling in how bizarrely gentle he’s being with you.
“Yes,” You whisper eagerly, your legs spreading further until the muscles of your inner thighs are burning with the strain of it. “You definitely should.”
You reach out to tug at the band of his loincloth, your fingers actually trembling a little as you try to unknot it at the sides. Neteyam’s own breath hitches, and his much more nimble fingers reach to help you untie it and draw it away.
And fuck, now he’s naked too. You sit up eagerly, peering down between your bodies to try and catch a look at him properly. You may have touched him that day in the healing hut, but it’s completely different seeing him.
He’s big. So big. All the Na’vi are big when compared to you, of course, but this just… it feels different, because this is Neteyam. His cock is the same pretty blue shade as the rest of him, decorated with darker stripes and pretty glowing tanhì. Your heart thumps recklessly at sight of it twitching towards his belly, and you reach out towards it eagerly.
Your small fingers wrap around the hard length of him — he’s too thick for you to comfortably hold in one hand, but that doesn’t seem to matter because he groans appreciatively anyway when you run your fingers down his length and then back up, feeling warm and sticky precome gushing from the tip to coat your fingers.
“Ah!” Neteyam groans breathily, his hips rocking as your hand slides up the long, velvety length of him. “Fuck… so good.”
You feel like you’re burning up, your skin sweat-slick and far too hot. The weight of his cock in your hand has your head spinning; you want him inside of you, stretching you wide and fucking you deep. If he fucks as good as he eats pussy, you feel like you’re in for a very good time.
“C’mon,” You breathe, writhing a little. “You– you promised me that you’d.. That you would…”
“Mm, I promised I’d make you feel better than Txetyo ever could,” Neteyam finishes for you, leaning in to kiss your neck. “You like ‘em big and stupid, huh? That’s why they can’t please you, syulang.”
You toss your head back, your eyes fluttering shut as his sharp canines drag over the sensitive skin at the side of your throat. Fuck, maybe he’s right. None of those guys have ever made you feel this good before; you don’t think you’ve ever been this slick and eager in your whole life.
“God, you have such a big head,” You huff, quivering. “Maybe you’re big and stupid too.”
He just laughs at that, a dark chuckle that has your nerves buzzing, and leans down to nip at your shoulder hard enough to make you jerk beneath him. “I am not like Txetyo, or Art’alak, or Pewalsku, or Urtiltey.”
You scoff, before reaching up to push hard at his shoulders. You’re not actually strong enough to shift him, but he pulls back obediently, falling back to lay on his back on the bed. You rise up on your knees then, looming over him as he lays flat.
The way Neteyam is looking up at you, it’s like he’s seeing god. If he could worship you with just a look alone, he is. It’s a little overwhelming, and you feel something deep in your stomach knot just at the sight of him looking at you like that.
“Prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” Neteyam whispers, reaching out to grip at your hips, guiding you into straddling his lap.
You don’t think anyone has ever talked to you like this, or looked at you like this. You hardly know what to do in the face of his attention, so you revert to what you’re familiar with; you settle yourself against his lap and grind there, feeling the length of his cock glide along the seam of your cunt.
It feels as though your belly has been set alight, and you take a slow breath as you rock against him. His lips drag from the base of your throat up the length of your neck, then he nips gently at the hinge of your jaw. The softness of his breath against the sensitive skin of your throat elicits a shiver from you, and Neteyam’s hands pull you closer when he feels your reaction.
You make a soft sound against his mouth when his fingers clench tight around your hips. His hold on you encourages you to grind down against him. It's not as though you really need the encouragement, but the way his eyes darken as he stares up at you is enough motivation for you to tilt your hips and grind down just like he wants you to.
"Fuck." He breathes, his eyes going half-lidded as he tilts his head back against your bed to watch you move above him.
Heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over Neteyam as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system; it feels as though you just can't get close enough to him.
Your patience runs out, unable to keep up the teasing; Neteyam seems to feel much the same. When you raise yourself up, chest heaving, Neteyam grabs at his cock and holds it still to allow you to settle against it, the head notched against your entrance. He glides over the opening again, pressing in the barest amount. You can already tell it’s going to be a stretch. Neteyam is thick, and you want it in you, want to feel it pressing you open.
You clench around the head of his cock, trying to pull him in, and Neyeyam groans.
“You’re—” He starts to say, his big hands clutching at your hips. “Shit. You’re tighter than I even imagined, paskalin.”
The idea that he might have imagined this is almost more than you can take, and you surge forward to kiss him again, your mouths clashing clumsily.
“You—you thought about it?” You manage to say, your words coming out a little muffled as he sucks at your lower lip.
He just rumbles a laugh, as though your question is ridiculous, and doesn’t even bother answering. Instead he places one hand securely under your ass, the other adjusting himself—there’s a short, sharp burst of pain as you felt him start to push in, just the tip and your head is spinning. Your nails are digging into his shoulders but if he feels anything it doesn’t show.
He kisses your cheek and then pushes in a little deeper as his mouth falls to yours once more—swallowing up your sharp cry as another inch sinks into you, and you feel like you’re splitting open.
Fuck, you feel as though not grabbing lube was probably a mistake; you were too cocky, too confident in your ability to take him, so sure that he’d be as adequately satisfactory as the other Na’vi men you’ve been with.
He goes in and in and in, pressing farther into you than you even thought was possible. The stretch and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him. His mouth is open, each breath escaping him quickly, and you can see your own amazement reflected back to you on Neteyam’s face.
You dig your nails into his shoulders to offset the pain radiating through your core as he shoves himself deeper into you, chased by another wave of warmth as his free hand move between you, thumb settling gently over your clit.
“Ohmygod,” You gasp, pleasure mixing with that burning ache. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
“Ungh..” Neteyam groans into you shoulder as he rocks another inch into you, until you’re sobbing and moaning by turns. “Oh. Fuck. Txetyo didn’t deserve this, syulang. Didn’t know what to do with you.”
You whimper in his grip as he just holds you there, buried to the hilt, thumb still working at your clit and sending frissons of electricity up and down your spine.
“Feels good,” You slur. “You feel good.”
Neteyam pulls out half an inch and fucks back into you from below, making your breath hitch. “Yeah?”
“So big,” You gasp. “I-I want—"
“I know, I know. I’ve got you,” Neteyam rumbles, his full lips brushing gentle kisses over your temple, right in your hairline. “Take what you want, lovely girl.”
And you do, rocking your hips and taking one of his enormous hands to pull between your legs so he can continue to rub at your clit with his fingers, so he can feel all the ways you’re leaking onto him as you lean forward to run your own hungry mouth along his collarbone, his pecs, as your hands grip his shoulders to try and lift yourself up and onto him over and over again.
It doesn’t take long for that coil in your belly to swell, sweet and hot. It’s as if Neteyam is intimately familiar with the way you want him to rub your clit, how you want it pinched but only just so between two fingers, as if he’s been taking fucking notes all those times he had walked in and interrupted you. It doesn’t take long until you’re trembling and squeezing impossibly tight around him, taut like a violin string.
It’s like Neteyam is puncturing your lungs, and every time he fucks into you, you respond with stupid sounding little ‘ah’ sounds.
“Ah, ah, ah!” You gasp, teary-eyed and desperate. Neteyam’s mouth is parted, his eyes wide. They flick over you quickly, drinking you in as you ride him.
Your movements are slow to build, but gradually you establish a steady, desperate rocking. It doesn't take long for you to realise that grinding in his lap feels better than raising yourself all the way up and down. Distantly, you feel little guilty — you know that grinding and rocking in his lap in the way that you are feels better for you than it does for Neteyam, but he doesn't seem to mind. He's watching you with a rapturous expression, his arms urging you closer so that your sweat-slicked chests are pressed close together and your foreheads are resting against each other.
You find a rhythm that both satisfies and stokes you, riding him with abandon as your thighs clench tight around his narrow hips. Neteyam’s hands slide from your hips down over your lower back, worshipful as they drift lower to clutch at your ass and use his grip there to help lift you up and down.
You ride him with mindless intent. His fingers dig at the meat of your ass, his mouth dropped softly open as he fights to keep his own breaths even — it takes a long moment for you to realise that he's fighting to keep himself still and to stop himself from thrusting wildly into you. His restraint and the realisation that he's really allowing you to have all the power in the exchange strikes you hard. You’ve never felt any real sense of agency in sexual intimacy until now, and the realisation that he's being so considerate of how you’re feeling only contributes to the intensifying of those flutters in your belly.
The rush builds in you, relentless, mounting with every jerk of your hips. There would be no catching your breath until it broke.
You rock on him, hard, hard and fast and there, there it is, that’s it — that perfect deep unfurling. A moan rises from the depths of your chest as you gasp at it, your body trembling. Neteyam just stares up at you, mouth open, eyes gone wide and dark.
The wave crests, the world explodes around you, a kaleidoscope of sensation as you come undone in his arms, trembling even as he keeps sliding home into you. You keep moving over him through the ebb of it, through the helpless little sounds that break from his throat. You’re still shuddering when he reaches up to take a firm hold of your waist. As though he can't help himself, his hips thrust up into you.
“Yes,” Neteyam hisses, his flat nose all scrunched up in a feral sort of pleasure. “That’s my girl.”
You tremble, gasp-moaning as your joints turn to jelly. Your orgasm very slowly gives way to thunderous aftershocks that rocket through your body every few seconds, shuddering your whole frame in intervals.
"Fuck," He groans, his breathing gone ragged. "I'm going to-"
He doesn't even finish his sentence before he seems to lose some of that iron control he's been exerting; his hips jolt up into you, and then again, until he's thrusting up into you with a sense of urgency that's almost breath-taking. All you can do is cling onto his hair and bury your face into the crook of his neck, attempting to muffle the embarrassing little gasping sounds that you’re making into his skin as his fucking into you prolongs the breath-taking pleasure of your orgasm.
You don’t fuss when his big hands use his grip on your ass to lift you up himself, fucking up into you and letting loose. Then he's shaking, stilling, spilling himself inside you, and you watch eagerly as his face goes slack and relaxed.
You don't go still immediately. Your hips keep rolling slow and steady as you tremble against him, chasing that feeling of molten shivery pleasure that's still burning in your belly even as it starts to turn into almost unbearable oversensitivity. It's not a fully conscious movement, as you’re moving mostly on instinct, and after a few moments Neteyam takes a hold of your hips to slow you to a stop.
He stays inside you like this for what feels like an eternity, spent and nestled deep inside you as you sit in his lap, slumped against his large strong chest.
"Oh my god," You whisper eventually as another pleasant shudder jolts down your spine. It feels as though you’ve been kicked in the chest, as though the breath has been knocked out of you entirely to make room for the lovely floaty lightness that's beginning to fill the space between your ribcage”
"Mm." Neteyam hums quietly, his fingers tightening in the soft flesh of your hips as he tilts his chin up to brush his lips over your sweaty temple. "Alright?”
No, You think, with no small amount of panic. You’re absolutely not alright. Neteyam may have just been fucking you to prove a point, because it’s always been so important to him that he’s perfect at everything he tries his hand at, but it feels as though he’s just cracked you wide open. You don’t think anyone will ever make you feel as good as he just did.
When you don’t immediately answer, one of his big palms cups the back of your neck so he can tilt your head back, and he leans down to kiss you again. He sucks your swollen bottom lip into his mouth so he can worry at it while you whine, toes curled where you tucked them under your legs, balanced on his thighs.
"Impressed?” He murmurs into your ear, his warm, dry hands stroking soothingly over your sweat-dampened skin.
You laugh despite yourself, and it comes out breathless and broken. “Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah. I’m impressed. Asshole.”
Neteyam’s expression brightens, his ears twitch back as his smile grows. He leans in and kisses you again, once, twice, then three times in quick succession, and out of the corner of your eye you see his tail coiling lazily against your sheets.
“Feel like I need to lay down,” You say. “For a week maybe.”
Neteyam just chuckles as you slowly lift your hips; when Neteyam slides out of you a soft sound of loss escapes from his mouth. You sympathise — you feel uncomfortably empty now that he's no longer nestled inside of you, but Neteyam is already gathering you into his arms and flopping back onto your mattress with you all curled up ontop of his chest.
It all feels so natural — you’ve never cuddled after intimacy like this, and you never would have imagined that Neteyam would allow you to do this. But it seems like he craves physical touch as badly as you does, because it feels as though his hands are everywhere as he holds you.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself, dickhead." You grumble, though you’re already relaxing under the pleasant warm weight of his hands
Neteyam’s smile only grows. "Why shouldn't I be pleased with myself? Have I left you unsatisfied?
You groan loudly, before burying your face in the pillow. The worst part is that it's true — you’ve never felt so satisfied in your life. You think that you could close your eyes and cheerfully float away on a cloud, but you don't want to suffer the humiliation of admitting that.
“I’m satisfied.” You admit, mortified. “It— yeah. You won that stupid competition. Well done.”
That has exactly the effect you had expected it to have; Neteyam’s chest puffs up where you’re laying across it, his eyes crinkling up as he grins. God, he’s so fucking smug.
You manage to swallow down your embarrassment so that you can ask the question that’s been knocking around your head since the first time he had kissed you.
“Can we… do that again, sometime?” You mutter, keeping your face pressed into his chest so he can’t see the vulnerability on your face.
Neteyam’s chest rumbles in a deep laugh, and his large palm settles between your shoulderblades.
“Whenever you want, yawntutsyìp. We have all the time in the world.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Where ever you want. Here, the forest, my hut in the village—”
You laugh, blinking in surprise at his eagerness. You guess he must be absolutely pussy-whipped right now, which is pretty sweet.
“Next time we mate, we’ll do it in the forest so Txetyo can find us.” He says, and you can feel his teeth against the top of your head when he grins. “Let him watch as I make you scream again.”
"I did not scream!" You snap, embarrassed, reaching to smack at his chest. But then his words actually parse in your head, and you push yourself up quickly on top of his chest so you can look down at him, wincing a little at the ache between your legs.
Neteyam obviously catches your wince because he frowns and one of his hands reaches for your thigh, but you grab at his wrist as you gape at him.
“What the fuck did you just say?” You blurt.
That must have been a slip of his tongue. Every man you’ve been with before has been so damn careful to avoid the term mating, obviously terrified of you somehow getting the wrong idea; they made it painfully clear that it was just fucking, with no strings attached, because you were small and exotic and apparently the tightest thing they’ve ever gotten to put their dicks into.
Neteyam blinks owlishly, as though confused by your response. “What?” He asks, before his face relaxes. “Ah, it’s only the thought of me watching that does it for you?”
“No, it—” You blink at him. “You said… you said next time we… we mate.”
“Yes.” He says, wrapping one big arm around your waist to tug you back to him, as though he doesn’t like the fact that you’re shifting away. “I enjoyed mating here, where I can kiss your face, but it is very...”
He pauses then, and glances around your room. For the first time, you see it through his eyes; it’s small and dingy, the electric lights buzzing and flickering as they run on the ancient generator that Norm and a couple of the other older scientists had dragged from Bridgehead. Even though he’s gotten comfortable cuddling you on your bed, it’s far too small for him; his legs are hanging off the end of it, his feet flat against the floor. Compared to the fantastical natural homes of the Na’vi, your little bedroom seems like a shithole.
“You will be more comfortable in my hut in the village.” Neteyam says decisively, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to his chest again. “I wish to take you in the forest, at Vitrautral, as is tradition.”
“Mating.” You repeat, just to check if you had heard him right. “We—that was mating.”
“Mhmm.” Neteyam’s hum sounds casual enough, but you can see the ridiculously pleased wave of his tail in the air behind him. “I told you that you were wasting time with those skxawngs, but I did not mind waiting for you. I did not like hearing them talk about you, about how you felt and how they pleased you, but… I knew I could prove myself a better prospect than all of them.”
“But—” You’re still struggling with this, staring at him with a bewildered expression. “But it—that was sex. It wasn’t—”
“I will take you to Vitrautral tomorrow, and mate you properly,” Neteyam murmurs, and you feel his big chest rumble beneath you in a pleased purr at the idea. “You do not need any other now. Yes?”
It feels almost too good to be true. Almost. Because damn, you want that so badly that it actually aches. After so many years of craving intimacy of any kind, it seems shockingly unlikely that it’s being offered by Neteyam, the very personification of an Omaticayan golden child. How have you gone from getting fucking in empty corners and deep in the forest to having the Olo’eyktan’s son talk about mating you?
You think of the herbs and plants he always brings to the healing hut, the bones and fibres he forages, the food he brings you after hunts. You had always thought he was just shoving how great he was in your face, but now all of that is starting to rearrange itself inside your head. Was he seriously just trying to impress you?
You laugh a little disbelievingly, and Neteyam’s arm tightens around you.
“I have a necklace,” He murmurs, nuzzling against your forehead. “Made with freshwater pearls from the ocean. I was going to give it to you earlier but—we got distracted. It is in my tewng—”
“Get it later,” You whisper, clinging to his chest. You’re so comfortable, you don’t want to move, just in case the moment slips away forever. He made you a necklace. Fuck, he made you a necklace! You’ve only ever seen Na’vi mating gifts from a distance; the thought of receiving one is beyond anything you’ve ever imagined.
Neteyam’s chest seems to swell, his expression brightening the moment you cling to him. He hugs you close, his purr now reminiscent of a damn chainsaw as he curls his whole big body around you.
Taking a chance, you do something that you’ve always sort of wanted to do, ever since you found out what it was; you reach behind him and take his kuru in your hand, feeling the thick, glossy protective braid in your fingers.
Neteyam shudders under you, his rumbling purr stuttering a little as his eyelids flitter, his eyes going dark. He doesn’t stop you, watching you with lightly parted lips as your hand closes around the most sacred, sensitive part of him.
“This is okay?” You whisper, your vulnerability clear in your voice.
“Of course,” He whispers back, as though the moment is a soap bubble that could burst at a slightly raised voice. “It is yours, syulang.”
Emboldened, you drag your fist down the glossy braid until you reach the end, where the glowing tendrils that make up the exposed manifestation of his nervous system. The fleshy pink tendrils writhe in the air, and you watch in eager amazement. You’ve only ever seen diagrams of this part of the Na’vi anatomy, and you want so badly to touch it.
“You can play with it all you want,” Neteyam murmurs, and his voice is breathless.
You breathe a laugh, glancing up at him with a little grin. His pupils are blown, his lips parted, his chest heaving. You want to gnaw on his ribs, swallow him whole; he’s so cute.
“I’ll save that for tomorrow,” You whisper, the words ringing like a promise.
Neteyam looks briefly disappointed, before his mood is promptly buoyed at the thought of mating you again at the Tree of Souls, as he had promised you. He buries his face happily in your neck as you pet absently at the protective braid covering his kuru. It’s a non-sexual touch, and yet he goes entirely boneless, purring up a storm as you stroke your hand over it.
“Told you those others could not please you, paskalin,” He murmurs, his words slurring a little as his eyelids flutter with every soft touch to his kuru. “Told you they did not know what to do with you.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the fond smile pulling at your mouth.
“Mm. You did. Guess I needed someone like you, huh? A mighty warrior?” You say, teasing him with that silly little nickname he always called himself when you were a teenager. At the time you had thought he was so annoying, but now, looking back… you’re willing to admit it was pretty adorable.
Neteyam’s drowsy face pulls up in a sweet smile, his flat nose brushing against your collarbones. It seems like he’s pleased you remembered, or maybe he’s pleased that you’re impressed with him.
He kisses your neck, then mumbles sleepily, “The mightiest.”
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thelostconsultant · 28 days
Text
Secrets
pairing: Lestappen x reader
summary: Charles convinces you to join his relationship with Max.
warnings: Well, not much, except for mentions of sexual activities, unprotected sex (wrap it, guys) and pregnancy.
note: Just little snippets stitched together to give you a glimpse into their life.
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The plan began to form in Charles’s head when it was announced you would become his race engineer from the 2024 season. As you got closer and got to know each other better, he began to flirt with you, making it quite clear that he wanted something from you, and when he kissed you for the first time, feeling it in his bones that he got you, he finally told you the truth. 
“There’s something you should know,” he told you softly with his hand resting on your cheek. “I’ve been in a relationship for a good… three years now, but me and my partner are looking for someone to play with, someone who would be willing to be a part of our little secret.”
“Why do you keep it a secret?” you asked him, flashing a curious look at him. 
Charles let out a long sigh as he thought about what to say to that. “We are trying to avoid a scandal.”
“So it’s someone people know. Hmm… If I was held at gunpoint and they told me to name one person you might be in a controversial relationship with, my first guess would be Max, but–” When you came to a sudden halt, he knew his expression gave away his surprise that you figured it out on your own. Well, he wasn’t that good at keeping a poker face after all. “No way,” you said slowly, your voice suddenly dropping. 
He smiled at you after shaking off the bad feeling he had. You wouldn’t rat them out, he could tell, but now he was worried you would say no and it would change the way you work together. “Now you know, but please, this has to stay between us.”
You nodded your head a few times. “Sure, I won’t tell a soul.” There was a short pause, but then you looked back at him and said, “So how long have you been looking for a third member for this relationship?”
“We weren’t actively searching. When I met you, I found you attractive, then I got to know you better and realized I like your personality too. Max heard a lot of stories about you, and he was also attracted, so we just came to the rational conclusion that we would love to have you,” he explained. 
You agreed pretty easily. Sure, you did point out that it was only a pilot period, you wanted to see if this could even work, but that was more than enough for Charles. And soon enough you fell in love with them the same way they fell in love with you, and being together in this relationship became the new normal for you.
During race weekends the two of you could spend a lot more time together, easily slipping into his driver’s room to have some fun, but times like this you usually put extra effort into showing Max how much you loved him when you got him in your company again.
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Charles was in an extremely good mood in the evening, and when Max finally arrived, he was immediately pulled into a hungry kiss, his back pressed against the now closed door. “Good drive today, pretty boy,” the Dutchman praised him as he placed kisses along his jawline. “Wish we could talk a little more.”
“We can talk now,” he said before letting out a short laugh and slipping out of his grasp to move towards the kitchen. 
Max shook his head with a smile as he glanced into the living room. “Where’s our princess?” he asked with a confused look as he followed the other man.
“Left to take care of something. Actually, it’s good that she’s not here, because I need to talk to you,” Charles said as he passed his boyfriend a glass of soda, who seemed much more interested in what he was about to hear. Rolling his eyes, Charles reached out to take his hand. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m not planning to break up with you. I was thinking about why she wanted to go on a date. Do you think she wants to leave us?”
“No, I don’t think so. But… I don’t know, I once overheard a conversation she had with a friend or relative, and she was trying to explain to them why she hasn’t been in a relationship for a while,” he admitted. 
As he sat on a barstool, Charles let out a thoughtful hum. “It’s a good thing you mentioned this, because my idea could actually help this issue,” he began, earning a questioning look. “Maybe it’s time to make things official for our sake.” Max shook his head, but before he could say anything, he went on. “Not us, dummy. I know we agreed to keep it a secret for a few more years. I’m talking about you and her. Just hear me out. I can be seen in her company because she’s my race engineer and we’re friends as far as people know. But you? You’re on a different team, people think we don’t like each other. So if she was dating you, you wouldn’t have to feel left out even on race weekends, and I could jump over to meet her, even if she’s with you.”
With a thoughtful hum, Max rested his forearms on the kitchen island. “That’s… actually… not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “Have you told her about this?”
“No, not yet. I was waiting for you,” came the response. 
Nodding, he moved to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around his body. “Are you sure about this?” Charles let out a confirming hum in response. “Well, if she’s on board, I say let’s do this,” he replied before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
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Max woke up to the sound of you vomiting in the bathroom. He quickly jumped out of bed to see what was up with you, and when he opened the door, he saw you sitting on the floor with tears in your eyes. With a worried look, he kneeled next to you and kissed the top of your head. “Stomach flu?” he asked you softly. But you shook your head at this, carefully avoiding his gaze. “Tell me, what’s wrong? You’re hiding something.”
“What’s going on?” came Charles’s groggy voice from the door. When Max looked over at him, he saw the way he was rubbing his eyes, but then he focused on the two of you on the floor and quickly woke up. “You okay?”
You groaned, then flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your face. “I’m fine,” you replied defensively. 
“What are you hiding from us?” Max pressed on, knowing you well enough to sense there was more to the story. 
A minute or two passed in tense silence while they waited for you to finally speak up. Charles moved to be by your side as support, but he was stopped right away. He meant well, but this wasn’t the time to play nice. Max wanted answers, and if he had to be harsh to get them, he was willing to do it. And his strategy worked, because you finally took a deep breath and turned around to rest your hips against the sink. 
Your eyes moved back and forth between the two of them as you said, “I’m pregnant.”
Charles gasped next to him, barely able to hide his bright smile, but Max was hesitant. You had been with them for almost a year, and you had been publicly dating him for a while too, but this? This he wasn’t expecting. It’s not that he wasn’t happy, because he was. But you looked scared and maybe even ashamed, and this was killing him. So he quickly rushed over to you to cup your face with a smile on his face. 
“Are you sure?” When you nodded, he kissed your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“You’re gonna be a great mom,” Charles added as he joined you and put his arms on your shoulders. “So… I’m gonna ask. Who’s the father?” he wondered out loud with raised eyebrows. 
Shrugging, you looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I’m on the pill, but both of you doofuses tend to forget to use a goddamn condom, so it could be either of you,” you mumbled. 
Max looked over at his boyfriend as he bit on his lower lip, feeling guilty since they had agreed at the beginning not to do this. But based on the look on Charles’s face, he wasn’t the only one thinking about this. Of course, this was nothing new for the two of them, they had discussed their preference to fuck you raw countless times, but they never explicitly told you about this. But you weren’t stupid, you just probably loved them enough to let them do what they wanted as long as you all tested yourselves on a regular basis. 
“Are you mad at us?” Charles asked cautiously, but you just shook your head. “Then what’s wrong? I can see there’s something else you’re not telling us.”
“That’s not how you wanted to become parents,” you eventually told them. 
The sentence made Max’s heart clench, and he could tell Charles felt just the same based on the look they exchanged. They had told you about their plan to one day either use a surrogate mother or adopt a child depending on how things stood in their lives. Adoption seemed to be the winning option at the time as they couldn’t decide whose biological child should it be if they chose the surrogacy option. 
But things had changed since then, a lot of things happened and their feelings also changed. Once the Monegasque nodded, Max took a deep breath and prepared to tell you what they were both thinking about at the moment. 
“We love you. Yes, we did have different options in our heads at the time we talked about this, but now you fully belong to us. Our gorgeous and smart girlfriend is pregnant from one of us,” he said with a smile as he tipped your head to make you look at him. “It’s so much better than anything we could dream of. You should be happy now. We’re here, we love you, we’re going to support you the whole time.”
On his side, Charles let out a quiet chuckle, then kissed your temple. “You’re not getting rid of us, baby, don’t even think about it.”
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note2: I just wanted a little glimpse into their lives. I don't know if I should write more about them, little snippets or text or idk.
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famwhy · 1 year
Text
Bereavement
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: this one's for my cousin. The idea actually came to me while I was rewatching the first spiderverse lmao. Who knew Kingpin was such a source of ideas?
part two.
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You saw it—on the control panel—42. Miles had been transported to Earth 42.
You belonged to 1610; which meant that Miles also belonged to 1610.
He was in the wrong universe.
Your best friend was stranded in the wrong universe.
Now, if you were a rational person, you would've called for back-up—maybe even gotten Hobie's help like Gwen had. But you weren't a rational person—and could anyone blame you?—your best friend was probably in danger, of course you would act without thinking.
The watch wasn't hard to swipe, everyone was too caught up in what had just happened with Miles to care for guarding their little 'goober' dimension devices. Tracking him down wasn't terribly difficult either, not after you knew which world he went to.
All you really needed to think about was where exactly you had to open the portal—but luckily for you, Margo was willing to help.
"You owe me for this, by the way." Her head tilted your way, lids narrowed in a sassy look you dismissed with a wave of your hand.
"Yeah, okay, what're his coordinates?"
With a roll of her eyes—that you very much thought was quite rude—she gave you just what you needed; his exact coordinates.
The assortment of colours and geometric shapes appeared before you with a few taps of your finger against the cold device, flitting across the room in a bright blur of pure chaos that hurt your eyes to look at—
—but you would endure it; if only for Miles' sake.
"This is stupid, by the way—" you turned, facing the girl who insisted on making a snide comment every five seconds, "—you're not even a spiderperson."
"Says the girl who's speaking to me through a VR headset and isn't actually here right now," you growled.
"Careful, I can shut this whole thing down right now and tell Miguel what you're planning," she returned your apprehension with crossed arms, brows furrowing even further.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you sighed, "it's just— I'm worried about him. Please don't tell Miguel. Miles has saved me so many times, it's time I save him for once."
You assumed you must've looked rather pitiful for her features to have softened up, arms falling limp by her side as she, too, gave a sigh; though hers sounded like it stemmed from a different type of exasperation to yours.
"Just... go. Before I change my mind—preferably."
You gave her the brightest smile you could muster, hoping to god she could see all the appreciation in it—and there was a lot—before turning back around to take a step into the portal.
"Miles! I'm here to—"
As soon as you walked through, you were met with a dark room—though, that wasn't what caught your attention. Instead, your wide eyes landed on that familiar hanging bag, beat down and bits of its material flaked off.
Chained up to it, was your very own, Miles Morales. And stood directly opposite to him was... also Miles Morales?
Alright, you were aware of this whole 'spiderverse' thing but you didn't think it would be this trippy.
"...save you?"
They were both staring directly at you, however, the expressions situated on their faces were vastly different.
Miles—your Miles—had his eyes blown wide, shaky pupils not leaving your form for a second, even as he started frantically shaking his head from left to right, he still remained in eye-contact with you.
The other Miles also had his eyes blown wide. This time, however, it wasn't in warning—no—his pupils were dilated and his form stood rigid; still as a statue.
"Cariño..." he whispered; so much breath in his voice, it barely sounded like words were coming out.
"Y/N! You have to get out of here!" Your Miles yelled, pulling at his chains as though it would get him any closer to you.
You scoffed. "And leave you? I don't think so."
"Don't worry about me! You have to—"
"Cariño."
You blinked, casting your gaze back over to the other Miles—who now stood much closer to you than before. He was just an arm's length away, in fact, how did you not notice him approach you?
"Mi vida, oh Y/N..." his voice was soft as he spoke—quiet and coated in an emotion you were unfamiliar with—hand moving up to your cheek to gently trace a cold, steel claw over it.
"Hey!" The sound of metal chains clicking grew more frantic from behind him. "Stay away from her! Don't you dare hurt her!"
Either the Miles in front of you was ignoring your friend on purpose, or he genuinely didn't hear him, because he continued to do as he was doing—continued to give you shivers from the icy material against your cheek.
Then, all too suddenly, he flew into your torso, engulfing you in a hug so tight—so inextricably emotional—you stumbled back a little from the sheer intensity of it all.
"You're alive..." he breathed out—and it was then that you finally understood what the tone of his voice was. "You're really, truly alive. Oh mi cariño, I've missed you so much."
"Wha—?"
"Lo siento... lo siento." He buried his face into the crook of your neck and the surface of your skin slowly grew wet, your collar soaking up. "I didn't get there in time, I couldn't save you."
You and your Miles shared a glance.
You saw your reflection in his eyes; the look of shock on his face; the scenes that flashed through his pupils. You saw a fear in him, one unlike anything you had ever seen before.
You saw your near-death experience replay right before him.
"Te quiero—" the other Miles—the one holding you—grounded you once more with his words as he pulled away just enough to look you in the eyes and continue, "—you know that, right? I'm so sorry for not saying it before. If you hadn't— if you never— I'm so sorry."
The phrase shocked you, sending an electric pulse down your spine and rendering you utterly immobile.
"I always have. For the longest time. It's always been you. It's always—only—ever been you."
If what he was saying was true... then—?
"Y/N!"
Suddenly, the metal against your hips was replaced by the familiar silky material you were used to; the one worn by your Miles.
"Miles," you breathed out, looking all around you to see the shattered glass that flew in the wind—scattering in all different directions as the warmth of the inside abandoned you.
"I'm gonna need you to hold on, okay?"
You nodded.
Then, you glanced behind him, catching sight of the familiar geometric mask of the Prowler—sharp claws out—coming in hot and fast and furious.
"Miles—!"
"I know, mami, I know. I need you to trust me for a minute, alright? You know I'll never let you get hurt."
You nodded once more, nails digging into his dark suit as you buried your face directly into his chest. You felt yourself flow through the air, swiftly moving as the wind worked against you, pushing back on your hair as though you were its worst enemy.
It was nice. It was fun. It was... bound to go wrong.
One moment, you were safe, all coddled up in Miles' arms as he swung through the sky—the next?—
—you were falling.
"Y/N!"
(Note: I feel like I need to address this because some people seem to be misunderstanding what I'm doing with Margo.
First of all, Margo is not AT ALL being mean in Bereavement. The whole of that fic is written in the Reader's perspective (and I'll prolly end up writing something in both Miles' perspective too) - this makes her an unreliable narrator so you can't trust the way the story is being told to you is 100% accurate to the true events.
At the start, the Reader is frustrated because she knows her best friend is stranded on another universe - this makes her unfairly take out her frustration on Margo when she thinks lines like 'who always seemed to have to say something every five seconds' (paraphrased).
Margo thus responds accordingly (as she should) and although she threatens to tell Miguel, she never actually would because she is legit one of the only real ones in the movie. So no, to those commenters that were accusing me of making her 'aggressive' cuz she was black - that is not what I'm doing at all. I am writing the Reader's perspective after just having lost her best friend.
Margo is the only one helping. She is literally being kind to the Reader. If anything, the Reader is the one being rude to her but again, that's because her best friend is missing which isn't an excuse but definitely an explanation.)
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targaryenluvs · 9 months
Text
OUR LITTLE DOVE
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pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray
summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.
warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal
word count: 3.0k
a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!
he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.
you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.
you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.
you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.
Everyone's born as clean as a whistle
As fresh as a daisy
And not a bit crazy
Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing
she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.
As rough as a briar
Like walking through fire
This world, it's dark
This world, it's scary
lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?
I've taken some hits, so
No wonder I'm wary It's why
I need you
so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.
You're as pure as the driven snow
your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.
your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.
hope could only get you so far.
your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.
what on earth could you provide her with?
“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!
your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.
“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”
you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.
“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”
but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?
his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.
“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.
was this your chance?
you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.
but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.
your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.
even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?
“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”
“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.
you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.
crack.
you’d been found. you fucked up.
“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”
his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.
the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.
you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.
“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”
“she should eat something better.”
“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”
he was smiling, you could tell.
“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”
you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.
“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”
“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”
“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”
coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.
“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”
you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.
coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.
“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.
“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.
his, his, his.
with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.
lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.
your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.
don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.
not with her in the way.
you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.
here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.
obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.
“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”
and you did.
when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.
when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.
through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.
through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.
when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.
when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.
you had no idea why at this point.
for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.
for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.
you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.
and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.
maybe you’d grow up and find love.
maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.
maybe we’ll heal.
you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.
you’ll always be his little dove.
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