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wheneclipsefalls · 2 months

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Little Gift- Tremble

Pairing: Soft Dark Neteyam x Fem Human Reader

Little Gift Masterlist

Beautiful adult Neteyam pic by @cinetrix2

Summary: This is your last chance to run.

Warnings: aged up Neteyam, NSFW minors do not interact, dark Neteyam, NONCON/DUBCON, spanking, dirty talk, punishment, size difference, etc.

A/N: This one took a little longer than intended with all the life stuff going on, but yay it's here. Also, migt have gotten a little carried away with this part.

The outpost feels like a relic of a different time. One that you have only heard of in stories, but now seeing those worn down bunk beds and the corner of a room that Spider calls his own, it doesn’t feel as glorious. The worst part, however, is how naked you feel around other humans. It’s only a slight comfort that Spider is wearing Na’vi apparel too.

“Oh and yeah and this is a spear I made in Awalatuu.” Spider says. “But maybe let’s move it out of the way.” He gives an awkward chuckle but it’s obvious that his only concern is you suddenly deciding to use it against him.

Your arrival at the outpost had been anything but graceful. In hindsight you would have preferred to meet these people face to face instead of over Neteyam’s shoulder.

“If you want we can uh….watch a movie. Oh yeah I bet I could swipe Norm’s Star Wars collection.”

You don’t return the smile he gives you, too busy awkwardly sitting on his bed while pouting. You never thought it would feel strange to be back in a place like this but after being around the Na’vi for the past week, the outpost feels like walking into a rundown dollhouse. Everything is your size and nothing is as beautifully crafted as Neteyam’s kelku.

The awkward silence is slightly painful but you can’t find it within yourself to feel bad for Spider. Not when he hasn’t shown even a morsel of sympathy for your situation. Your own kind and not even they find it important to get you out of here. Not that they could anyways. No doubt Neteyam would view such actions as a betrayal.

“He wouldn’t let you come along, huh?” You finally ask.

Spider stops digging through the worn down hard drives.

“Who?”

“Neteyam. Didn’t want you coming to see the RDA off either?”

Spider scoffs at the, leaving the tech behind to cross the small room.

“I wouldn’t say that. I’m not the one he’s worried about getting into trouble.”

Spider may not have heightened senses like the Na’vi but you worry that he sees the way your hands ball around the thin blankets.

“So Lo’ak handed the role of babysitter off to you somehow.” You lean back against the cold wall, trying to appear bored by the conversation.

“Just for today. He was clear that I would only be a substitute.”

Your brows furrow at that. Maybe Lo’ak doesn’t mind watching over you as much as he lets on. Then again Lo’ak never fails to find your company amusing, and for all the wrong reasons. Some days you wonder if Neteyam would really be cross with you for slapping his brother across the face. Maybe if you batted your lashes and played it off as self defense….

“Well I’m sorry you can’t be there.”

It’s Spider’s turn to look confused.

“Why?”

“Colonel Quaritch is your dad, isn’t he?”

“That asshole is nothing close to a father.” Spider’s jaw clenches, posturing already shifting to loom over you. He may be human but his six foot frame of striped muscle greatly outweighs your own.

“Oh trust me, I know. Quaritch has been nothing but a tyrant my entire life. I honestly don’t know how he managed to get back into General Ardmore’s good graces after half the stunts he has pulled. That’s why I was excited for today. Finally see that bastard put in his place.” Spider watches you closely. In some ways it feels like all he is missing he ears and tail of a Na’vi.

“Thought maybe you would want to see that too.”

You know a good deal about Spider Soccoro. He is a story that is often shared among the recombinants but never in Quaritch’s presence. Many tales have been told of the feral stripped boy that was more trouble than worth. You wonder if the stories would have been different if he hadn’t chosen the Sullys in the end. Still, even with their biased filters you know that they put Spider through hell.

Kidnapping is traumatic enough without having to watch islands burn and friends cry for justice.

“I don’t care what happens to that bastard.” Spider huffs before promptly turning around and fishing through the hard drives once more. You’ve killed the already strained mood.

“Well then you’re a better person than me. Good for you.” Spider doesn’t answer but you can tell he is listening.

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Hell, I’ve only had to put up with him from a distance and I would ring his neck myself if given the chance.”

Spider’s fingers fiddle with a blue hard drive, eyes staring down thoughtfully.

“But I guess I should trust Neteyam to give him what he deserves. Watch that monster tuck his tail and accept his failure for what it is.” It’s the one cause you consider Neteyam and yourself on the same side of.

Leaning back, you prop your feet up onto the creaky mattress.

“Yeah.” He says shortly.

“Ugh don’t get me started on Lyle though-”

“What are you trying to do?” Spider springs to his feet, glaring daggers down at you.

“What do-”

“Do you think I’m really that stupid? Neteyam told me you would do this. Trying to spin a story that would allow you to escape.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You’re startled by the outburst to say the least but at this point there is nothing to lose. This man you only met fifteen minutes ago is the difference between spending the rest of your days here and returning back to Earth. Neteyam’s punishments are far from being enough to deter you from taking this chance.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to-”

“Would it kill you to just stay out of trouble for this one day? For my sake?” The look he gives you is anything but tender in comparison to his words.

The bitter taste of impending failure is already settling in. You can already feel the immense weight of this dread and it springs you into action. This can’t be the end.

It won’t be.

“Can you really blame me though? For wanting to say goodbye to everything and everyone I have ever known?”

Spider goes quiet, hazel eyes suddenly avoiding your own gaze.

“Believe whatever you want but the fact is this day will never repeat. This is literal history and…” You voice quivers, blunt teeth sinking into your bottom lip in restraint. The last barrier to holding the words back. “The last glimpse at my old life.”

You don’t allow the gravity of those whispered words to plant themselves. This is all a ruse after all. Just enough sadness to get Spider to cooperate and yet saying it out loud feels like tying an anchor to your ankle. Truly realizing how stuck you may be from here on out.

Spider doesn’t say anything for a long while. Neither of you look at each other, letting the silence sizzle between you.

And then finally….

“We have to be quick.”

“And no touching anything. I mean it, shit out here can be extremely poisonous.” Spider rattles on, listing yet another rule to follow as the two of you venture through the thick terrain. You roll your eyes. You may not be a match for the creatures of Pandora physically but you’ve studied enough to understand what to stay away from.

“We’re there for five minutes tops, got it?” Spider says as he pushes a hanging branch out of your path.

“Yes sir.” You salute him playfully. Now that you are less than a mile away from Bridgehead a certain giddiness begins to take over. It swirls together with your nerves and apprehension but it doesn’t deter you. This is the closest you have been to freedom in a week.

Eywa’s mightiest creatures could not keep you from your goal.

Years down the road when you wake up from kyro this will all be some awful dream that embeds itself into your revenge arch. Starting with Miles Quaritch of course.

“I’m being serious. Neteyam will kill me if he sees you out here. I’m sticking my neck out for you.”

“It will be worth it.” You say simply, a skip in your step when you recognize the familiar path that leads back to Bridgehead. This the same one you had carved deeper with every trip you had taken to your oasis. Looking back there is nothing more you regret but the sight of it still makes you smile.

Spider never stops his stern rambling. Despite the fact that he is built like a Greek God, his speeches do little to intimidate you. Not when you’re used to nine feet of solid muscle and sharp canines.

There is a bank that overhangs Bridgehead. A spot that Spider deems the perfect lookout for the two of you. You consider trying to convince him to get the two of you closer. After all, what good is a farewell that can’t be heard? Truth is, there really aren’t many people you would bother trying to say goodbye to. Jeremy moved on from you months ago, you have very little friends outside of that and what little you did have can be nothing but traitors by letting you get offered up without complaint.

It feels like a risky move, however. Spider is sure to catch wind of your deception at the first hints of you disobeying.

“Here,” Spider mutters, suddenly pulling your arm so you stand directly in front of him. This leaves you sandwiched between the cliff’s edge and Spider’s tall frame.

“Hey!” You snip at him, ripping your arm from his hold.

“This way I can keep a close eye on you.” He smirks, hands resting confidently on his hips because he knows as well as you that his physical prowess greatly outweighs your own. It’s clear his trust is far from being earned.

“Well do you have to breathe down my neck? Christ! I could use some space.”

“No chance.” Spider responds shortly but his eyes are already scanning the crowd of RDA members below.

“Neteyam doesn’t really take kindly to others sniffing around me.”

You hate to play that card but it seems to be the only one you have in your deck and if you have any chance of getting out of here, Spider can’t be pressed up against you. A harsh glare is thrown down at you but with knitted brows and a fierce frown, the male takes a few steps back. It isn’t much, surely his presence will still be your first obstacle, but it’s a start.

Every minute that passes by feels like torture. You watch as palettes of heavy equipment and artillery are rolled along the concrete with Na’vi supervising. Each one packed away is a signal of passing time, another stream of sand that falls through your hourglass of opportunity. The real nerves, however, kick in when the line of RDA members are escorted onto the ship.

How long is it going to take them to load everyone?

How long until your hopes are dashed?

You spot Neteyam taking his place at the head. He is dressed up in his traditional Olo’eyktan gear completely with a feathered mantle and oval forehead jewelry, but this time he holds a gun. He holds it with confidence, finger strategically placed over the barrel and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. His golden eyes spark today like fire. Even from your lookout spot from above, you can feel that darting heat.

You pray that they never fall on you again.

Spider shifts over your shoulder suddenly, blonde dreads ticking your neck. You scramble out of his space but instead of jerking you into place as you expect, he takes your spot at the front. Brows knitting together, you watch him carefully as he crawls forward.

Finally you spot what has captured his undivided attention.

Colonel Miles Quaritch sternly leads his band of mutants through the crowd. They tower so high over the rest of the Sky People the sight is almost comedic. However, Spider is doing anything but laughing. His mask fogs up as he watches the scene with intensity.

It’s like he is dead to the world, eyes trained on the man that has been anything but a father to him.

You expect him to cheer, snarl, anything that shouts of victory. It was promises of seeing karma after all that had bought you this outing but Spider is silent and still. And then there is something else that flashes over his demeanor, a pang of emotion that is hard for you to place.

Pain?

Hatred?

Guilt?

This swirl of tangled feelings is confusing.

Perhaps there is still so much more to learn about Spider Socorro.

Regardless, this is your chance and you plan to take it. Tension bleeding into the moment you watch Spider diligently while beginning to back away. It feels as if the world’s ambience has been muffled into background noise and the only sound breaking through is the obnoxious puff of each breath through your mask. Neteyam hadn’t given you the serum shot this morning, assuming you would be spending the whole day in the outpost. Now, however, you wish he had.

Spider is so enveloped in the moment, however, that he gives no recognition of the sound or even branch you clumsily snap when backing down from the cliff’s edge.

There is no telling how long this trance will last or at what point you will be out of ear shot so you risk it all.

Bare feet tingling in protest, you race across the forest floor. There’s no sign of an easy and stealthy way down into Bridgehead. Going back down your normal path would risk Spider spotting you race by. That’s not an option but neither is falling to your death. On the east side the cliff shallows out into a grassy hill. If you’re lucky enough you might just be able to creep down it and remain hidden beneath the heavy greenery.

Upon reaching it, however, you step on loose dirt and the world rapidly spins around you. With neither a hint of grace or stealth you clumsily roll down the hill. Your muscles ache by the time you clunk to the bottom and you’re sure there are other injuries to be found. Adrenaline dulling the pain and panic, you dart to hide in the nearest bush instantly.

The scene is so much louder now that you are up close. Heavy trucks make blaring beeping sounds while reversing and Na’vi freely let out loose cries of victory and foreign threats. The commotion is just enough to have your presence remain undetected.

You don’t bank on that lasting for long though.

Your scanty traditional Na’vi attire is sure to draw attention. You need different clothes and you need it fast. Scaling around the outskirts of the chaos, you miraculously manage to make it to that familiar run down door. Sector two-your building.

Paranoia constantly scraping at your attention, you barely let the room equalize before ripping your mask off. These hallways feel so different than you remember them. Perhaps it is the feel of the metal floors beneath bare feet or the lacking furniture and crowd. It sends a chill up your spine as you sprint towards your room.

How much time do you have?

They can’t have loaded more than half of the crew by now.

And yet, the sight of deserted halls makes your feet slap against the floor faster.

Get dressed. Immerse yourself in the crowd. Hide until take off is through and then find a kyro capsule.

You mentally check through this list.

Piece of cake.

Maybe saying it out loud would make it sound less like a fool’s hope.

Fuck it. The odds don’t matter and neither do your nerves. This is a necessity, pure survival and that will be enough to keep you going. It will because it has to.

Your feet slip across the laminated floor when you frantically scramble to go back the way you came. Two tall and ominous shadows wrap from around the opposite corner and you are afforded just enough time to dart behind a wall before Lyle and Z Dawg appear.

“You’re an idiot.” She says.

“Yeah yeah say whatever you want but don’t pretend like you wouldn’t rip someone in half for a Big Mac right now.” Lyle defends himself, their shadows now paint the dimly lit corridor, stretching closer and closer to your tucked away spot.

You could run, but these are recombinants. They would pick up the sound of your footsteps in an instant. The wind from your sprint would carry your scent.

“Sure, but I asked what your first meal back on Earth would be, not what your guilty pleasure fast food order is.”

“These savages can keep their overgrown weeded garden of a planet. I want some fucking chicken nuggets!”

As their voices become louder it appears that running will be your only choice after all.

“I don’t even know why I ask at this point.” She sighs and a short hiss echoes down the hallway.

You swallow the lump in your throat, feet repositioning as you prepare yourself to run. If you were smart you would have already been halfway down the hallway at this point but some part of you refuses to move. It clings to hope foolishly.

“Well I’m sure-”

“Shut up asshole. The comm.” Z Dawg hisses and they both turn silent, no doubt listening to the orders on the other end.

Your hands are shaking now, that tremor traveling up your shoulders as you await their response.

“Copy that.” Lyle says and then the sound of heavy boots recedes into the distance.

You can hardly believe your luck.

That dark cloud of dread ripples away and hope takes its place once more. Maybe you can pull this off after all.

Your room is exactly as you left it. No one has bothered to pack up any of your things or even dispose of your half folded laundry. This tiny corner of a shared living space has been your own for your whole life, everything you have known. It feels so small now.

Rifling through the laundry basket you find a loose green tee and a pair of tan shorts. You originally had a whole outfit planned for this day, something comfortable but nice. Those garments are, however, still crumpled up on the ground. This will have to do.

As you hastily slip them over the beaded jewelry and tewng you pray to whatever god will listen that this will be enough to keep you incognito. You are barely finished buttoning up the shorts when heavy footsteps ring down the hallway.

Their echo is soft, no doubt still several halls away but they are progressively getting louder. Now is not the time to take any more risks. This room is tiny and already cramped with scattered junk. Hiding under your bed would not only be idiotic but near impossible with the way your creaky bed swoopes so low to the ground. There is, however, an old built-in cabinet above that you’ve used to hold your clothes.

It’s just barely big enough for you to squeeze into so with those footsteps getting louder and your own terror sky rocketing, you push everything out of it and shove your body into the metal space. The door has metal slots with just enough slant to allow your visual through it.

Your clammy right hand presses over your mouth when the door to the room creaks open.

Neteyam strolls in leisurely, eyes sweeping over the cramped space with interest. With wide eyes and strangled lungs, you watch him prowl through the area slowly. He bends down to run his fingers over the rumbled sheets, the back of his hand lingers over your pillow case.

He takes his time looking through the various knick knacks and cords littering your night stand. He doesn’t hesitate to ball the old picture of Jeremy into his fists. Its remains are tossed to the side without care.

Did he toss the real Jeremy like that?

You make a vow to find him as soon as you make it on board.

Assuming Neteyam hasn’t already hunted him down.

You could look for whatever is left of Jeremy.

You can’t think about that now, though. Not as your heart is pounding against your ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Not when Neteyam lifts his mask for a sip of air as he plays with your tiny music box.

He is gentle with all of your belongings, roaming through the area like a man that doesn’t have hundreds of Sky People to threaten off of his planet. Surely, he will have to leave soon. He’s just here out of curiosity, more of his stalker tendencies pushing him to invade your space.

The music box looks like a Christmas ornament in his palm and you worry that he will accidently crush it. It was a pain in the ass to get and a possession you have always treasured because of that. Neteyam’s ears push forward when he finally figures out how to start the music and that delicate ballerina begins to twirl.

“Maybe it’s all of your silly trinkets.” He breaks the silence, you startle slightly. He can’t be talking to you, you remind yourself. Neteyam thinks he is alone, just nosing through your old room as he thinks out loud. “Is that what you miss so much? What has you running off and acting naughty, little gift?”

He’s bluffing. There is no way he could know you are here. Your scent has to be strong in the room but that’s to be expected since this was your living space. Ironically this should be the perfect place to hide away.

“You know,” He starts, carefully placing the music box back down. “I was planning on letting you bring some of these funny things back to our kelku once you start behaving. A little incentive to be my good girl.”

The knot in your throat is near impossible to gulp down and when you do, his ears twitch. You don’t want to believe it. How did he find you? You tug your legs closer to your chest as if you can contort yourself into a small enough ball that will magically disappear.

“But it’s obvious now that you respond better to retribution than reward.”

It’s a miracle that your lip doesn’t split from how hard your teeth press into it. Neteyam may not be able to track your scent here but the smell of blood would be a dead giveaway. All signs point to being caught but you aren’t ready to hand over the last shreds of hope yet. Neteyam doesn’t know about the cabinet. He’s bluffing about knowing you are here. No one has seen you.

“We can revisit the idea of a reward system later, pet.”

The muscles in your legs are cramping beyond relief, begging you to stretch out. You don’t heed these discomforts, too paralyzed by the proximity of your captor. Neteyam on the other hand appears deceivingly content and relaxed, rummaging through your things as if he has all the time in the world.

He carefully opens your nightstand drawer and those hairless eyebrows raise immediately. The bras are tossed to the side with the same care as the picture but then tiny little lace fabric hangs from his fingers. It’s far from your greatest problem but your cheeks heat anyways when he carefully observes your light purple panties.

Out of all the drawers to open it seems that Neteyam knows just the one to torment you with.

“Then again,” The Olo’eyktan smirks. “These are quite cute.” And this time instead of inhaling from the respirator he soaks in the scent from the small fabric instead. Your thighs clench together.

“Wouldn’t mind having my little tawtute model these for me.” He hums, while pulling out several more pairs. He tucks them away safely in a small pouch attached to his loincloth. “That is, once I finally get rid of this rebellious streak of yours.”

You allow yourself a small sigh when Neteyam goes around to the other side of the bed, just enough distance for you to breathe properly.

“Time to come out, little gift.” He squats down onto his haunches, prowling across the floor like a predator on track. He must be searching for you and if that is true then you may still have a chance yet. Neteyam may think you are in here but he doesn’t know where exactly.

Thoughts race through your mind at a thousand miles per minute. They twist and twirl to find some way that you could get out of this situation unscathed. The doorway is visible through the slanted slits of the cupboard. With the proper footing you may be able to close that distance with a courageous leap. And maybe, just maybe that would be enough to catch Neteyam off guard and give you a head start.

You make one fatal mistake, however.

If there is one thing a good prey knows to do, it is to keep sight of their predator at all times.

Your feet don’t even get the chance to hit the ground, instead dangling and thrashing once you are caught with a strong hold around your waist. Hoping is waning but disappointment sprouts into increased vigor as your nails digging into his arms and legs struggle to kick back at him.

“YOU MOTHERFUCK-” Your cursing slings into a shriek when Neteyam grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to strongly crane your head backwards. His golden eyes are dilated until only a thin rim of molten gold is visible. The weight of his angry gaze takes your breath away.

“Enough.” He enunciates the word, like a drawn sword ready to slash. “Listen closely, pet.” The lump in your throat goes down with a strained gulp. “There is not an inch of this Sky Demon hell hole or corner of this planet that you can run to without being drawn back to me. You are mine and I’ve done well to mark my property.” The fingers intertwined in your hair tickle over the back of your neck, no doubt leaving the trail of his scent behind. “You reek of me.”

Tears gather at the corner of your eyes and you flutter them closed to avoid his burning attention.

“As you should.” His voice rumbles as nothing more than a growl against the nape of your neck.

“I never asked for this!” Your fighting dimms down to nothing more than squirming as gritting the choked words out sucks your energy away. Before you can do anything to stop it, tears blaze trails down your cheeks. “Just let me go! Please!”

“Quiet, pet.”

Another yank to your hair and the words die on your lips. It’s clear now that the time for fun and games is over. Neteyam wastes no time in throwing you onto the creaky mattress and covering your body with his own until he becomes a shadow blocking out the fluorescent light above. His thighs straddle your waist, putting just enough weight down to keep you in place.

“No more tears.” He sighs, with down turned lips, but doesn’t pause his bunching of your tee shirt. “It’s clear I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

A broken grasp is pulled from your throat when he easily tears the shirt straight down the middle. You’re not sure what you are trying to accomplish as you swat at his working hands. The shirt was neither your favorite nor of great importance but you still try to stop the onslaught of ripping.

Confused and overwhelmed you squirm as he rips it into wide ribbons of fabric and then without warning you are flipped onto your stomach. You scramble to crawl away but Neteyam’s plants a foot on your ass and that is unfortunately all it takes to pin you down. Your hands are snatched next, forced together behind your back as the ripped stripes of your own shirt are used as makeshift rope to tie your wrists together.

Something about him using your own personal clothing to keep you bound for him has your legs kicking out fiercely. It won’t do much damage even if you manage to hit him, but there needs to be an outlet for your anger. You need to feel like there is still some wreckage for you to inflict. The last tiny shred of power that you cling to for dear life.

Neteyam isn’t in the mood to put up with your outbursts. Much like a fresh kill from his hunting trips he keeps you pinned and makes quick work of binding you imobile. The action is so well rehearsed and instinctual in fact that he already moves on to his next task of destroying your shorts.

Shrieks and small clawing fingers are simply background ambience for the Olo’eyktan as he works. Surprisingly the small tawtute sized Na’vi clothing is not exempt from the male’s destructive hands. They too become nothing more than rolling beads and scraps of fabric falling to the floor.

Your string of bloody curses are only temporarily interrupted by your own gasp when Neteyam takes a seat on the bed and throws you over his knee in one swift move. Kicking is no longer an option for your rage when he swings one leg over both of yours. Blood rushes to your head but even dizziness can’t stop your violent outrage.

However, it appears a cracking smack to your upturned ass can.

The pain doesn’t ripple forward until a few moments after your shock has subsided. Neteyam has always had creative ways of punishing you but this is different. You’d figured that he would never lay a hand on you after all that he has droned on and on about how important it is to protect a fragile thing like you.

But another hit accompanies the first and this time you can’t hold back your small squeak.

“Just as I thought.” He spanks you again, his hand mercilessly hitting both cheeks with every strike. “You’ve been practically begging for a firmer hand.” The cry that the next rapid three slaps pull from you is one that you don’t recognize.

“Pretty little things like you still struggle to remember their place.”

“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, trapped legs still fruitlessly sprawling for escape.

“Don’t worry, little gift.” He squeezes one of your pink cheeks after this last spank. “That’s what I am here for. I won’t let your silly little tawtute tendencies keep you away from me.”

It doesn’t take long for the color of your backside to match your face as the blood drains to your head. Neteyam is persistent, hardly batting an eye at your cries and shrieks. From cursing to death threats, none of your spewed venom makes him flinch. If anything you manage to catch his small smirk when you twist to glare up at him. You don’t make that mistake again when you find this behavior only rewards you with condescending coos from the Na’vi.

“That’s a good girl. Let all those nasty words go.” He purrs, heavy hand never letting up on your poor bottom.

It’s this praise that has your mouth clamping shut. You hold back any and every sound you can as your ass takes a beating. Which is not a lot when the Na’vi male has unfathomable strength and your backside already feels like flames could erupt from it at any moment.

“Oh pet, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already blushing so pretty for me.” Neteyam hums in delight, hand roaming over your burning ass like an art piece just waiting to be admired properly.

Hardly even touched you?

Is this just his way of being an ass or are you truly that far from the finish line?

You jolt when one finger slips between the crack of your cheeks, teasing over your hole gently. A sound caught between a scream and whimper erupts from you without thought. Bound hands flatten and flail to cover the untouched area but Neteyam simply chuckles and lets his own hand retreat.

“Mawey, tiyawn.” Neteyam pats your backside softly, almost in a casual reassuring manner. “Another day.”

It’s hard to say what is more humiliating. Being bound and turned over the Olo’eyktan’s knee like a naughty child or the wetness trickling from your pussy at the feel of his teasing fingers in a place you’ve never dared let anyone else explore before.

Pain is a great distraction from your humiliation. So much so that it eventually motivates you to dash pride to the side and begin your pleading.

“A-ah Neteyam! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…eh-ah I-I’ll be good!” It’s not even clear what you are trying to say anymore. Your mouth runs on autopilot, throwing out any line of remorse in hopes of one doing the job. “I ngh-ah didn’t mean to! I won’t run! Can’t take anymo- ah! Neteyam!”

He reigns his hits to warm the underside of your thighs too, moving between that vulnerable area and your ass in such an erratic way that it is impossible to anticipate where the next will land.

Plea after plea is thrown out but resembles nothing more than garbled desperation, nothing that can pass as a full sentence.

However, one call catches his attention.

“Olo’eyktan please!”

The sound of slapping skin stops.

Tears continue to plunge down your cheeks even without the constant spanking, your ass burns and tingles in shock. The tuft of his tail poruses over your naked thighs, sending a sensation both painful and ticklish.

“Repeat, pet.”

“Wha-what?” You stammer, voice thick with tears.

“What did you say?” That large hand comes down once more like a crack of lightning.

“AH! Olo’eyktan O-Olo’eyktan please please please. No more no more!”

He smooths over your knotted hair, pushing it away from your sweaty temple and tear stained face. It’s tempting to look away from his soft gaze but intuition tells you to let him see the trembling state he has left you in. Let him witness how pitiful and distraught a simple spanking has made you be.

“I….I’m sorry, Olo’eyktan.”

Neteyam smiles like one would at a lover, a tender pride lacing his lips.

“You’re learning, pet.”

Putting batteries in that small remote was a mistake. A ridiculous useless mistake that now leaves you standing on shaky legs. The pink vibrator that has resided in your nightstand drawer dutifully on hand for years is now the source of your torment.

Well, maybe not the source per say.

No, the true origin of this humiliation stares back at you with knowing eyes and swatting tail, his large hand making that tiny remote look like a children’s toy. The vibrator buzzes inside of you on the lowest setting, but that relief can only last for so long with the way Neteyam enjoys jumping between the different levels.

Every last shredded piece of your Na’vi and human clothing lays back on the floor of your old bedroom. The only savior of your decency is Neteyam’s cloak that he had thrown around your shoulders. With the size difference this cloak acts more like a dress and therefore gives you more coverage than you’ve had in a week yet somehow leaves you feeling more vulnerable than ever before. Trembling fingers never stray from the seams of the cloak, keeping it wrapped around you tightly as the crowds of humans and Na’vi continue to pass you.

Neteyam has left you with one of the other Na’vi warriors but never out of his sight. It’s a miracle that your hands were cut loose in the first place but perhaps that is another sick joke the Olo’eyktan plays on you. He knows that you won’t run. He knows you can’t run. His attention and promised consequences for misbehavior are more than enough to keep you tucked in his pocket.

That and of course his control over the rippling vibrations that torture your pussy.

The nearest warrior is sure to be noticing your frazzled state by now. At least he has the decency to hide his interest, unlike another Na’vi that watched from the sidelines. Lo’ak, leaned against one of the hoverships like it’s a random Tuesday afternoon, watches with a small smirk and perked ears. If Neteyam notices, he doesn’t seem to have a problem with it because Lo’ak is left unbothered in his ogling.

The tempo increases, the vibrator now picking a pattern of random pulses that bash against your sweet spot. Bottom lip bleeding now from your biting, it’s a struggle to keep your moans at bay. With the heavy machinery moving and hundreds of Na’vi and humans passing surely there must be enough noise to block out any degrading sounds you make. But you can’t take that risk. You’ve made the mistake of underestimating the Na’vi’s enhanced hearing before and that is what has landed you here.

Neteyam twirls the tiny remote between his fingers like a fidget toy as another Na’vi warrior comes to report.

You start to commiserate the loss of that ridiculous human sized loincloth Neteyam made you because at least then there was some fabric barrier to hide your wetness. Now, the thick Pandoran air runs up the cloak and over your soaked thighs and cunt. It reminds you constantly how pathetic you have become as orgasm after orgasm has escaped your grip. Even worse it reminds you how easy it is to carry that aroused scent through the breeze for all Na’vi to detect. At that rate, worrying about your noises is the least of your concerns.

Lo’ak reloads the machine gun with practiced hands, moving with muscle memory so he can continue to stare and send silent messages your way. No doubt he is theorizing on what exactly his brother has done to diminish you to such a state. His eyes dance with those ideas, the little quirk of his lips telling you just how creative and vial his thoughts have turned.

Another level up and this time it is Neteyam’s eyes that have you squirming. Your impending orgasm coils tighter and tighter with every passing second and you're so desperate to find some way to release this energy that your bare feet begin fidgeting against the concrete. It’s almost like a little dance, one that has Lo’ak laughing under his breath.

It stops.

You breathe.

There is some sort of commotion off in the distance. Not one that you can truly pin down the source of but you do notice the way Neteyam nods as a Na’vi female says something to him. With a wave she is dismissed and then the Olo’eyktan saunters off. Although slightly worried over the trouble, you are grateful for the respite.

And then a nightmare unfurls before your eyes.

Instead of marching to the issue, Neteyam takes a pit stop to converse with his younger brother. Lo’ak’s tail whips in the wind at whatever is whispered in his ear but the real horror comes when that traitor of a remote is handed over to the younger Sully male.

You are seconds away from stomping over there and crushing that pink little weapon before the other male can wield it. However, your dutiful guard places a hand on your shoulder after just one step. His eyes remain locked forward but the warning is enough as his hand retreats. You are still being watched.

With one last glance your way, Neteyam has the audacity to give you, his little pet, a warm smile before leaving you in the hands of his brother.

Lo’ak swings the gun around to his back in favor of playing with his new toy. Every dark and viscous fiber left within you is channeled into the glare you give him. It should say everything that your lips can not.

Don’t you dare.

Don’t you fucking dare.

Now would be a good time to look into Na’vi curses, anything you could betrix upon him for what he is about to do, because of course Lo’ak won’t back down. If anything that fire in your eyes lights his own delight and has him sitting down and bracing forward. Forearms resting on his thighs he clocks your every movement.

This is sure to be the best entertainment the bastard has had in a long time.

He savors the passing moments of anticipation. Never backing down from the ultimate seething looks you give him. Finally a crash sounds and that distraction is right when Lo’ak sets the vibrator to high. From zero to one hundred, pleasure rackets through you like a shock wave. The force is so much that it temporarily makes you stumble on your feet. The other guard wordlessly steadies you back into place.

Lo’ak’s grin is feral.

This silent battle slips between your fingers so quickly it is hard to comprehend, because all that can register in your brain is how fast you are hurtling towards an orgasm. After Neteyam’s denial your body is high strung and ready to take any sensation as fuel to push you over the edge. Nails digging into the soft fabric of Neteyam’s cloak, pleasure rockets higher and higher until only the whites of your eyes are visible.

Knees bowing inward, ecstasy is finally yours.

There isn’t enough energy left to question why Lo’ak let you reach your high. Instead you focus on riding that wave while simultaneously keeping upright.

That persistent buzzing against your sweet spot continues until your nerves are short circuiting. The pleasure turns to overstimulation and you give Lo’ak a look that alerts him of this change.

His amusement tells you that he already knows your predicament but his thumb remains far from the off button.

Pathetic noises now bubble up your throat without restraint as pleasure ebbs into pain. It switches back and forth until another release is on the verge of consuming your being. The guard next to you doesn’t say anything when he helps to sit on the cold ground.

The second orgasm has a bitter taste to it but your greedy pussy clenches around the toy all the same. It’s almost too bad that Neteyam decided not to gag you because at least that would muffle your cries as you rock down onto the toy. Lo’ak gulps at the sight, pupils blown wide when the first glimmer of tears scrape down your cheeks.

Regardless, he shows no mercy as he takes in the show with undivided interest.

Vaguely you register the bustle and commotion around you as different Na’vi and humans rush to and fro, giant machinery finally backing into place but they are only background noise to your third orgasm.

Your body is caught between delight and despair with every passing second. When you are close to reaching your peak for the fourth time your body is resistant to get you there all the way. The intense buzzing in your pussy is driving you wild but still not enough to drag out another orgasm after being too overstimulated. Despite the soreness that emanates from your wrecked hole, your clit throbs in agony. Begging to be touched. To be licked. Pinched. Flicked. God, anything at this point.

Memories of Neteyam doing just that surface, pushing you closer and closer to another dumbing climax and yet only serve as a reminder of how you are not getting the treatment you so desperately need. Pride is dashed to the side, you’ll worry about the consequences of grinding onto the toy in public later.

Lo’ak’s hands roughly brush over his inner thighs and it draws your attention. The taunt muscle and smooth skin of those thighs would surely brush over your intimate flesh so perfectly. He would probably help you too, hands clawing at your hips as they urge you back and forth over the area. Even more so, the younger brother would not be able to pass up the opportunity to show his power over the situation, muscles flexing to tease your clit oh so beautifully.

You’re not sure when Lo’ak became telepathic but he grips his knees and gives you a look that says he knows every dark desire that plagues your brain. His nails press into that soft flesh and drag until there are pretty red marks left behind. If you crawled over there sweetly, would he let you ride? Maybe if you healed those red marks with open mouthed kisses and kitten licks.

Unaroused you would be ashamed of this train of thought but she is so far gone now.

The only thing your poor abused cunt is begging for was attention. Anything to get this awful mix of heaven and hell to bleed into euphoric release and rest.

The only thing stopping you from reaching down and finishing the job yourself is the assurance that Lo’ak would snip all pleasure in a bud at the sight of any touching.

The area has been cleared of invaders. Na’vi begin to make their way off to the hills before take off but you are none the wiser. Caught in your own little bubble you don’t even notice when a sudden shadow blocks out the sun. That is until, large warm hands slip under the cloak and skate over your spread legs.

Such a simple touch has never made you whimper more.

Neteyam’s accent is thicker now, words heavy enough to hardly understand the meaning as he coos at you. “There’s my sweet pet. Little slut just wants to come again, don’t you?”

His fingers force your legs to spread even wider. Lo’ak’s stares as if his glare could heat up enough to burn through that cloak.

With such delicacy it makes you want to scream, Neteyam uses two fingers to part your pussy lips and expose your pulsing clit. The other hand slithers down to rest on your thigh as you try to buck against the air.

“Come for your Olo’eyktan, pet,” He growls and with the other hand he begins delivering rapid little taps to your clit. It’s humiliating how tiny the gesture that puts you over the edge is but you paint the toy white regardless.

When the vibrator finally takes a rest you are too far lost in your own little world. Neteyam swaddles you in the cloak and carries you in his arm as you bury into his chest. And conveniently, when you are tucked back in the forest there is no awareness left in you to recognize the sound of launching ships.

As always interaction and feedback not only means the world to me but also as a great motivator for writing and updating<3

Taglist: @pandoraslxna@neteyamssyulang@tallulah477@criticallybella@sullybrothersmate@lilghostiequinni@chershire23@lala-1516@teyamshuman@yawnetu@puddle-nerd@ratchetprime211@avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark@bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut@witchsprit@heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar@minnory@ikeyniofthetayrangi@ilovehobi101@spicymayyo@v4mp1rr3@nilsavatar@bambithewriter@quicktosimp@itchaboi-itchyboy@thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @witchsprit@imwutim@crazy4books1@thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction@danniackerman@dayyzlol@justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheempty

Let me know if I missed you. It's getting a littly tricky to keep track of everyone haha

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

Text

Days in the Sun: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Oberyn returns victorious from King's Landing after defeating the Mountain and spends a day with his beloved wife and their daughters.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author to be paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader

Warnings: Basically none! No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.2k

A/N: Written for @aurasjournal, the OG Oberyn Girlie ❤️ She requested some soft, SFW Oberyn love. This fic takes place immediately after the fight with the Mountain in King's Landing, except Oberyn emerged victorious and unscathed to return home (as he always should have, fight me GRRM.) Enjoy!

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Oberyn was tired of the sea.

It was fine when viewed from Sunspear, when he was on dry land with the sand at his back. It hadn’t been bad from King’s Landing, either, where there was sun and heat that he could feel on his skin. But that warmth was a poor substitute for your touch as you were so far from him, safe at home in Dorne.

The journey back to his beloved had not been an easy one, though. Even the satisfaction he had at killing the man who murdered his sister was cold comfort as storms bared down on his ship, bringing harsh winter winds and cold air from the north.

It would have been better if you were there, you and the three daughters you shared with him. The soft, gentle comfort of your warmth and love would have eased the passage, as would have the high peels of laughter that was so common anytime your daughters were close. But the risk of bringing you to King’s Landing was too great in Oberyn’s eyes.

Yes, he was traveling as a Prince of Dorne and yes, he was visiting for a state event, but neither title nor time had protected his sister. He could not risk losing you to the lions that prowled in the capital, he could not risk your children together. You had to stay behind and he had to make the journey alone.

But while the storms early in the voyage had made the days on the water miserable, they had pushed the ship south faster and now, Sunspear was on the horizon, more than a day earlier than expected.

Oberyn stood at the bow of the ship, a smile on his face as he watched his homeland draw closer. This, he thought, was where he belonged. Where he could feel the sun, where he and you were far from the cold calculation of the Westerosi.

The port was unprepared for his arrival, dockworkers scrambling to accommodate his ships and the entourage that was necessary when traveling as a Prince of Dorne.

In other times, it might have bothered him. There were things he had become accustomed to in his position and the trappings of royal life were indulgences he much enjoyed. But today, ceremonial greetings and meals would have only gotten in the way of what he truly needed: seeing you and your children together.

“My Prince,” his advisor who had remained behind greeted him on the dock with a bow of his head but there was no sign of you. Oberyn frowned. “My apologies, there was no raven to warn of your arrival, we were not expecting you for several days at least…”

“My business in King’s Landing concluded early,” Oberyn cut him off. “I’m sure we will have much to discuss about our relationship with the new king when the time is right. But now, I need to see my wife and she is not here.”

“No, your highness, I’m afraid we could not find her when we saw your ships on the horizon,” he said. “She left your chambers this morning with your daughters and their guard but did not say where they were going. I am sure you missed the princesses greatly but I’m afraid that there is much to attend to…”

“If you were not expecting me for several days, surely business can wait,” Oberyn said, already walking away from him. “There are far more pressing matters that demand my attention.”

He didn’t bother to wait for any of the others to follow nor did he ask anyone for help in tracking you down. He knew exactly where you would be.

He heard you before he saw you, working his way to the quietest, most secluded part of the water gardens. Hidden away from the pressures and prying eyes of the palace and its stately visitors, the two of you had stolen away to this little place for many hours of your courtship. He had come to think of it as belonging to just the two of you long before your first daughter was conceived there. Now, it was the small homeland of the five of you, a place of escape and belonging and love.

“Mara, Elia, my loves, you mustn’t play that rough,” you called as Oberyn approached, a smile on his face at the sound of your voice. The guards hovering on the path leading to your corner of the gardens snapped to attention when they saw him. He gave them a nod. “You are sisters, not enemies. Stop pulling each other’s hair.”

Your back was to the path as Oberyn entered the clearing of palm trees and tall hedges. He took a moment to admire you when you couldn’t see. The curve of your waist as you sat on a blanket in the grass, the way the vibrant fabric of your dress draped over your frame, the arch of your neck as you watched your daughters dust themselves off, grass stains smearing the yellow of their clothes with green. The girls took off, chasing each other around the edge of a small pond and into the trees beyond.

“I sometimes wonder if we are raising little vipers, not little princesses,” Oberyn said, smiling. You jumped at the sound of his voice, turning quickly to find him there. You all but leapt to your feet, throwing your arms around him as he caught you, holding you close to him. He pressed his nose into your hair, breathing the soothing floral scent of you deep into himself.

“You’re here,” your voice was muffled, your mouth buried in the crease of his neck. Your voice was tender and wet. “Oh, how I missed you. You were so far from me, I was so worried…”

“I know, my love,” he ran one large hand from the back of your head down your neck, your back, pausing at the exposed skin to relish the softness of you. “But I promised I would return to you, did I not?”

“You did,” you said, pulling yourself from him to look him in the eye and he smiled as his gaze traced the familiar and beloved contours of your face. “But I was still afraid. What if they hurt you and I wasn’t there? The journey alone can be treacherous but King’s Landing…”

He silenced you with a gentle kiss, your lips soft against his own. He resisted the urge to deepen it, to pull you tighter to him and feel all of you in every way he could.

But there would be time for that reunion later, when he could take his time lavishing you with every ounce of and passion he’d had to set aside in your weeks apart. For now, he was happy to just know you were back in his arms where you belonged. He pulled away from you, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the softness of your lips, pulling a small gasp from you as he did.

“I’m back where I belong, my sun,” he said gently. “At your side.”

You smiled and brushed your nose against his, closing your eyes for a moment.

“And how were our little vipers?” He asked. “On their best behavior, I’m sure.”

“If our daughters are vipers, they are vipers because of you, not I,” you smiled, stepping back from you before tucking yourself against his side. His arm slipped behind your back, finding its most comfortable home around you. The two of you began your slow walk around your favorite corner of the water gardens, the giggles of your daughters like chimes on the air. “But… yes, they were well behaved. Mostly. Though the maesters may say different. Alyse…”

As if on cue, you and Oberyn’s eldest daughter, Alyse, jumped out of a tree, wooden spear in hand, shrieking like a warrior. Oberyn, however, was ready for her, catching her out of the air and laughing as he set her down.

“Father!” She looked up at him, her wide, brown eyes so like his own. “You’re here! I learned a new attack while you were gone, with the spear, just like you! And if this were war I would…um…I would have…”

He smiled and rested his large palm on the crown of her small head, bending to be on her level.

“You would have attacked me well,” he mussed her hair. “My little viper.”

She beamed at him.

“Why don’t you find your sisters?” He asked. “Have they been learning, too?”

“Boring things,” she crinkled her nose. “Elia doesn’t like to fight and Mara likes a sword more than a spear…”

Oberyn felt you tense at the mention of his youngest daughter’s name. You had been the one to suggest it, knowing how he had so dearly loved his sister. You’d proposed it during each pregnancy but he felt as though it wasn’t right, not until his third daughter. She had become the gentlest of his children and therefore the one most like his late sister. She was kind hearted and sweet and smart, loving fiercely and caring deeply. But that also made her the least like him and a constant reminder of what had been lost at the hands of the Lannisters. He tried his best to not let that cast a pall over his relationship with his youngest child but there was always an air of sadness in how he saw her, one that you could feel as well as he.

“You know, my sister Elia didn’t like to fight, either,” he said kindly. “But we found other ways to spend our days. Can you find Elia and Mara for me, little viper?”

She smiled a toothy smile and gave him a nod before taking her small spear and darting into the trees. Oberyn looped his arm around you again, beginning your slow walk through the gardens again.

“You spoke of Elia,” you said softly, looking at him with deep and gentle eyes. He nodded once. “You did so happily.”

“I did,” he said. You watched him closely and he trailed his nose over your cheek to your temple. “I know it has been… difficult, the pain of her loss and how it has colored my life. Not just for me but for you and our daughters, too. But… I believe it will be different now. I killed Gregor Clegane and I forced him to admit to his crimes when I did. I forced the admission of Tywin’s guilt. No more are her killers alongside the iron throne so she can have peace. And so can I.”

You stopped your slow walk, your eyes searching his before you reached out, trailing your fingers through his hair before kissing him softly.

“Father!” Elia cried. Oberyn pulled away from you to find her standing beside the pond, the same glow of kindness in her eyes that he had so loved in his sister’s.

“You’re back!” Mara ran alongside her little sister, Alyse coming right behind.

“My little princesses,” he smiled and all three of his daughters ran for him. He let them tackle him to the ground, you stepping to the side just before they brought him down. They giggled and climbed on him and he tried to hold all of them in his arms but their squirming bodies and gleeful love were too much for him to bear. “Oh how I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve missed you, too!” Elia propped her elbows on her father’s chest and smiled down at him. “Are you back for a long time, Father?”

“Yes, my darling,” he kissed her forehead. “I am.”

The five of you made your way back to the blanket, you against his side as the girls ran ahead, laughing and playing as they went. There was a spread of your and Oberyn’s favorite foods waiting for you there and the two of you settled in side by side as the girls played.

“It’s good to see real food,” he moaned, taking a bite. “I sometimes think the Westerosi are sickened by flavor…”

You laughed and leaned against him, sighing happily as you ate a piece of fruit, watching your children play in the sun.

“Did you mean what you said to Elia?” You asked, looking up at him from your place against his chest. “That you will be in Dorne - where you belong - for a time?”

“I did, my love,” he kissed the crown of your head. “There will be nothing to take me away from you or our three children…”

“Four,” you said, leaning forward to pick up a goblet and take a sip.

Oberyn paused.

“Four?” He asked. You smiled and took his hand in yours, gently guiding it to your womb.

“Four.”

A smile broke over his face as he looked reverently at the place where his child was growing inside you.

“Oh, my sun, my beautiful wife,” his thumb brushed against you there. “I’ll not leave my home with you, not for a very, very long time.”

A/N: Thank you for reading my first foray into writing Oberyn Martell! I hope you enjoyed it!

#fanfic #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you

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shirohige-pirates · 10 months

Text

Birds of a Feather

CisFem Reader x Marco

CW: Violence, blood, language, adult themes and scenes.

Summary: Life has not been kind to you. After a string of bad relationships, you're a little jaded and a little depressed in all honestly. The worst day of your life seems to be the turning point, but the roller coaster ride that follows could either throw you soaring free, or have you caged forever?

Chapter 1: Pity

It was the worst day of your life.

Nothing had gone right since you’d woken up, and nothing was going to go right, you were sure of it. Your timed crock pot had shorted overnight, so instead of waking up to the really fancy oats you’d gotten used to, you woke up to cold, curdled mush. The power bar was a poor substitute, and to add insult to injury your coffee filter tore a little, and there were grounds in your brew.

Crunchy coffee wasn’t high on your list of caffeine options, but you didn’t have time enough to brew a second pot. Gulping down what you could stomach, being un-caffeinated wasn’t an option since you hadn’t slept much at all the night before. You chased it with some tap water to clear the grounds from your mouth and grabbed your coat before heading out.

It took three tries to get your car going, and that should’ve been warning enough for you to just call a taxi or order up a Bubble Ride™, but you didn’t. Two miles from work you’re stuck at the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck and just bouncing your head off the top of the steering wheel in a vain attempt to brain yourself into unconsciousness.

If you had the time off to spare, you’d just call off and call the day a wash. Ivankov was a reasonable boss, and honestly you could probably just tell him everything that had happened, and he’d give you the day off. At this point, however, you were closer to work than home. Getting the car towed to Kid’s shop was going to be expensive enough without buying a ride back home.

You’d ask to ride with the tow driver, but not all of them were okay with that, and you weren’t having the kind of day that had you wanting to see Kid’s face in the first place. If he didn’t give you hell for holding onto your old car, he’d probably try to get you to go out with him again.

For an ex-boyfriend, he was still a good guy. You made decent enough friends, but the attraction was still there from time to time and it was in your best interest to ignore it. You were almost tempted to try and date his best friend, but Killer was pretty loyal to Kid and honestly that would be awkward as hell for at least a couple years.

The only thing that went right for you, was that Heat had answered the phone when you called the shop. A mark for the win column, you supposed.

The walk to work had, admittedly, been a smart move too – but not for you.

Strange sounds had caught your attention and looking into an alleyway you saw a few kids, teenagers maybe, beating on what looked to be a dog. They were hollering and cheering one another on, and you could hear whimpers and yelps from the dog.

You didn’t even think about them turning those kicks and sticks on you as you yelled and ran into the alleyway. You were yelling swears and threats and heading toward them without stopping. You weren’t normally the most threatening thing around, but they must’ve decided an adult was too much bother and they ran off.

The dog was in a sad state, but you knew there was a vet hospital between here and work, it was only a couple blocks from your office, and a few of the people who worked there would come to the same bistros and cafés for lunch.

“It’s going to take everything I have left to haul you to that hospital.” You say softly, kneeling down and carefully, slowly reaching a hand out toward the dog. You were certain it was a pit bull of some kind. You weren’t much of a dog person, but that didn’t matter right now.

“If I pick you up, I hope you don’t bite me. I’m not like those fuckers.” You say it evenly, and the quiet growls of the dog cease. It licks its nose and seems to relax. “Well, if you do, at least I’ll be on my way to a hospital.”

You pull out your cell phone and dial 4-1-1. “Yeah, can I get connected to Phoenix Rising Animal Hospital?”

“Location?” The operator asks.

“Lvneel City, North Blue.” You answer, and after a second the line is transferred and starts ringing. “Ah! Er – I’m Chopper, you’ve reached Phoenix Rising Animal hospital, h-how can I help you?”

“Hello Chopper, my name’s (Y/N), I’ve found an injured dog that needs emergency medical attention, can I bring him into your hospital in the next few minutes?”

“EH!? I mean, yes! I’ll make sure everyone’s ready! Was the dog hit by a car?”

“No, but I don’t know how long some teenagers were beating on it.” You answer. There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line and the young man’s voice changes.

“Okay. We’ll be ready to assist you as soon as you arrive.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” You hang up the phone and tuck it away, scooting closer to the dog. “If you bite me, I might drop you, but I’ll do my best to hold on.”

There’s a little bit of growling from the dog and a little hesitation on your part, but after a few soft words and some painfully slow movements, you manage to lift the solid dog into your arms. There was a soft whine, but the wagging tail seemed like a good indicator and so you began walking.

The few people on the sidewalks gave you a wide berth, more from the dog in your arms than because of you. But you could also feel something soaking into your shirt slowly, and you realized the poor dog must have gotten cut at some point. You hold it a little tighter to your chest, it’s the only option you have for trying to apply pressure at this point.

There’s a yelp and a sudden sharp pain in your arm. You wince against the bite, but as soon as you flinch the dog lets go.

“I know, it hurt, I’m sorry.” You say it breathlessly. “Whew, you couldn’t be much more than twenty pounds, but it’s not like I can put you over my shoulder.”

Looking up you see the door to the vet office is open and a tall mink is standing outside looking around. The white polar bear is hard to miss, between his height and the rarity of minks in Lvneel. When he sees you, he turns in toward the hospital and calls out for something. By the time you reach the doors there are two guys in scrubs wheeling out a small gurney and helping you to set the dog down.

“He’s bleeding. She’s bleeding, I don’t know, I didn’t look.” You say evenly as the three of you work together. You follow them into the hospital, and the two guys hustle down a hall as the tall mink puts a hand on your shoulder.

“They’ll take care of him,” he says reassuringly, offering you a warm smile.

“I just – I just saw some teenagers kicking the dog.” You start to explain, looking down the hall the two men disappeared down, and then looking down at yourself. You’re covered in blood and dirt. “I didn’t realize he was cut. I didn’t – I don’t know, is he even gonna be okay?”

“They’re going to do everything they can, miss.” He assures you. “Calling ahead and giving us a heads up was very smart.”

“I… yeah, I… thanks.” You say looking at the mink more closely and finally clocking his name tag. “Uh, Bepo? Thanks. What happens now?”

Bepo tilts his head, and you think under any other circumstances you’d coo at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… it’s a hospital, not a charity, what’s – who – er… how’s he gonna be paid for?” You ask.

“Oh! Uh, well-.”

“We’ll see if he’s chipped.” You turn to see a man in scrubs and a white lab coat walking over to you and Bepo. He was tall, messy blonde hair topping an otherwise mostly shaved head, giving you a soft smile. “If we can reach the owners will inform them of what’s happened, and let them know they can come collect their dog, yoi.”

“And if they… if… ugh, oh no.” The scent of blood from the dog, the smell of the hospital, the stress of the morning, all of it catches up with you. You manage to put your hands over your mouth, but you can’t stop your breakfast from coming up.

The blonde man and Bepo both step back as half-digested breakfast bar, and gritty coffee, explode from behind your fingers and cover the front of you. For better or worse, you can’t smell blood or bleach anymore. Not that the tang of stomach acid is really any better, but it doesn’t make you nearly as queasy.

“Sorry.” You manage, wiping your mouth and taking the barf bag the tall blonde hands you. “I don’t… handle the smell of blood well, and it’s been… a really bad morning.”

“Are you hurt?” He asks.

“Huh?” You look up and notice him looking at your arm. “Oh… yeah. I… I realized he was bleeding, and I couldn’t put pressure on it, so I just pulled him to my chest a little tighter and I think I hurt him. He didn’t mean it though!” You add forcefully, stepping toward the tall man. “Don’t put him down for biting me, he didn’t mean to!”

“Calm down miss, we won’t put her down for that.” He assures you, putting his hands up in front of him. “Can I look at your arm, yoi?”

“Oh… yeah. Yes, please.”

“Chopper,” He says, turning toward a small reindeer-looking mink. “Go find a pair of scrubs for our client, and some clean towels and come into exam room 4.”

“Yes!” Chopper responds, changing size and shape and bounding down the hall looking more reindeer like than he had before.

“You can hold down the front, yes?” He asks, looking at a young lady sitting behind the reception desk.

“Of course, Dr. Marco.” She answers firmly. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the back bathroom.” She adds, “Just before the O.R. doors.”

“Thank you. Bepo, can you grab some spare kits and the toothbrush for me, and ask anyone not assisting Law with the Pittie to come out and clean this up?”

Bepo straightens, “Yessir.” He says before walking away.

Marco grabs a sign from behind the desk and sets it near your disaster before extending a hand. “This way, miss, uh?”

“(Y/N).” You answer, looking at your blood and vomit covered hands and putting them at your sides. “Please, uh, lead the way.”

“Maybe a quick stop at the bathroom first, so you can clean up a little, yoi.” He offers and you nod, following behind him as he escorts you.

You shed your coat into a plastic bag provided by the vet, wash your hands and arms, and use some paper towels to soak up the worst of the mess that was down the front of your clothes. The smell was awful, but you were getting used to it enough you didn’t feel queasy anymore.

At this point you could probably face God, with no fucks left to give for the day, and come out on top. After all, on top of everything else, you managed to nearly vomit on a really hot veterinarian. It was most certainly the absolute best first impression you could’ve possibly made with anyone.

“Alright, I’m as clean as I think I can get.” You admit, coming out of the bathroom and tying the bag with your coat in it.

Marco tilts his head. “Wash your arm without looking?”

You make a face, but sigh. “Yeah, I have a hard time with blood, and I didn’t want to hurl again.”

“That’s alright, I can work with that.” He says with a smile and leads you down the hall a little further before stepping into exam room 4. You sit down when he nods to one of the chairs, and he brings a stool over, sitting nearby and looking at your arm.

“It doesn’t look like it’ll need stitching. I’m just going to clean it up and get it dressed properly.”

“Uh, sure. Thank you.”

“Certainly.” He grabs a small kit and begins to clean up your arm carefully. “Only broke the skin in two places. The dog will be tested for rabies as a matter of course, but I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’ll get you prescribed some antibiotics to reduce the risk of infection, if you want?”

“Oh, nah. Thank you, but I’ll just, uh…” You sigh and wave your free hand around a little. “Go to the hospital or something if it gets infected.”

“Mm. Want to talk about it?” He prompts and when you look over at him, he glances up. “Your bad day. It’s barely nine in the morning, yoi. It must be quite the tale.”

You snort, covering your mouth and laughing as you see him trying not to laugh. “Sorry,” you say, not really sure what the apology was for exactly, as another giggle fit takes you over and you laugh more.

“A bad day,” he muses, eyes focused on your arm. “But a good laugh, at least.”

You chuckle a little as the blood rushes to your face for a moment. Whether it’s visible or not, you can feel the rush of heat in your cheeks briefly.

“Ah, can I make a call real quick? I don’t want to be a no show for work on top of everything else.” You ask as you pull your phone out of your pocket.

“Of course, I can step out if you need me to?”

“Oh, no, this’ll answer your earlier question, so you can stay if you’re not too busy.” You answer, and he goes back to tending to your arm.

After a few rings a gruff voice answers the phone. “Thank you for calling the Emporio Imperium, this is Buggy, how can I direct your call?”

“Oh, hey Buggy, manning the phones today?” You ask with a small smile.

“Eh? (Y/N)? Where are you?”

“Ah, a hospital.” You say and hold the phone away from your ear for a second as Buggy loses his shit for a moment. “Calm down, I’m talking to you, aren’t I? I’m fine. Well, mostly fine.”

“What happened? You’re taking today off, I’ll let Ivan know.” He asserts and you see no reason to argue.

“Well, I slept for crap last night, my crockpot shorted so I had a breakfast bar for breakfast, my coffee filter tore so my coffee had grounds in it, the car barely started and then died about two miles out from the office. It’s being towed to Kid’s shop,” you explain. “But when I was walking into work-.”

“You were still going to come in after all that?” Buggy’s voice nearly cracks, and you see Marco press his lips together. He certainly heard him through the phone.

“I don’t have much time off left,” you grumble. “Look, on my way in I came across some asshole kids beating on a dog. So I brought it to the Pet Hospital by the office. I got bit – it’s not bad don’t panic – but I have blood everywhere and to top it all off I threw up.” You finish, voice flat as you look up at the ceiling.

“Even if I wanted to still come in, I would, at best, be in scrubs smelling vaguely of barf and soap.” You admit. “I’m just going to go home.”

“…Need a ride?” Buggy asks in a very small voice.

“Nah, thanks Bugs, but I’m just going to order a Bubble or walk.” You answer. “Just let the team know I’ll be out today.”

“Tomorrow too?” He prompts.

You sigh. “I’ll be in tomorrow. Stop trying to make me use my precious time off, you menace.”

“Sure, sure. If Ivan lets you.” Buggy says with a triumphant sound in his voice before he hangs up.

“That little…” You growl and put the phone back in your pocket.

“You enjoy your work, huh?” Marco asks, taping the dressing in place and rolling the stool back a little.

You offer a weak smile. “I do. I work with good people, trying to do good things, I guess.”

“You guess?”

You shrug. “I know, I just… ah, sorry.” You let out a sigh and smile a little better. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t really want to add ‘trauma dumping on the nice animal doctor’ to the list of things gone sideways today.”

There’s a knock at the door and Marco nods as the door opens. Bepo pokes his head in. “Here’s the scrubs, and a tooth brush and the paste. Oh and a spare bag.” He says, handing the items over to Marco. “The entryway is cleaned up, is there anything else?”

“No, Bepo, I think that’s all for now.” Marco answers, setting the toothbrush and paste by a small sink in the room and setting the clothing down on a nearby exam table.

“Thank you Bepo.” You say, leaning forward a little and offering a smile.

“You’re welcome, Miss (Y/N).” He says in return. “I wish we could do more.”

“This is above and beyond already, thank you.”

Marco smiles, standing up. “Don’t get caught in a loop you two.” He says. “Miss (Y/N), we’ll give you some privacy. You can change into the scrubs, and brush your teeth. I’ll give you a ride home afterward.”

“Thank you, I-. Wait, what?” You go to ask, but he’s already shoved Bepo out of the room and closed the door.

You sigh, narrowing your eyes at the closed door.

“That slick bastard.” Muttering under your breath you brush your teeth and strip off your blood and vomit-stained clothes. For everything else that happened today, at least your socks and underclothes were dry.

You grunt as you pull on the scrubs. That was your silver-lining. Despite everything else that had happened, there weren’t any big puddles in the road for someone to have soaked you while driving by.

All in all, not your best day.

#Birds of a Feather #Marco x reader #x reader #reader insert #marco the phoenix #marco the pinepple #modern au

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thefuseoftemptation · 11 months

Text

THE SUB

‘When having taken a job that wasn’t even for him, Eddie now has to keep up with it— getting to see the students he’ll be temping for, but they weren’t the only ones he’d be meeting.’

EDDIE MUNSON X GN!READER

PT. II: THE NEW TEMP

WARNING(S): cussing, references to Eddie’s childhood, others still viewing Eddie without knowing him (it’s nothing like then but still). The students in here, some of them are going to have the names as those in the film and others…..well, you’ll see. And as the head of the school, I was going to leave it as Mullins but then switched the name and the reader is a teacher there (as requested). And there is use of 'Y/N' only bc it is GN and the students have to address them some way and I wasn’t sure how else to go about it. I got used to not using it tho. lmk if there are more!!! By the way, it’s been typed out for a while but I just never got to looking it over so it’s NOT PROOFREAD.

A/N: as said before, I put my own turn to it here and there but it is still overall like the film.

—

For a guy who never showed up on time when he went to school, much less be there- literally- Eddie certainly wasn’t going to let it be like then with how he was tailing it into the lot.

And with how much he’s getting for taking this up? Hm, there were no objections from him. Plus, he had to take this job. The week had already been getting close to being over, and by his Uncles words, he wasn’t about to let it go. He swore to Steve and his Uncle (unknowingly) that he’d try.

The look of his vehicle was something else entirely compared to those already in the lot- still having had his van that he kept up with through the years- it was nothing like the others surrounding or like the one that he currently pulled up next to.

If someone saw him, they would’ve turned the other way. Something Eddie’s been used to since he was young.

His tunes were muffled, even now he still had the volume at it’s highest and it could be heard from those who were going by.

The exterior of his van scratched and marked from the years of use and him not being the most mindful driver when it came to how much he pushed on the pedal. The countless write ups he had from when he was pulled over could give that much indication. And yet he still had questioned why he had gotten them in the first place at the time.

Guess you could say there was nothing Eddie Munson knew more than how to make an entrance.

And with only a few minutes to spare- a new for him.

—

Eddie was seated, waiting to meet the head of the school, who from what he knows- was the one he spoke to on the phone.

"Mr. Harrington."

Eddie was thrumming his fingers against his legs, head going to a rhythm he had in his head as he looked around, not at all hearing that he was being called. And when the person repeated themselves once more, Eddie could only brief the room, because 'oh, Steve was here?'

It wasn't until he stared back at the person that he saw they were looking specifically at him.

"Oh shit, that's me."

Their brows lifting questioningly upon his utterance. "Scuse me, I-I mean, that's me- Steve Harrington."

He really had to keep up with this....

They only eyed him, not because of what he said but because of what they saw when he stood up. The people at the front desk had already taken a look when he leisurely stepped through the door— not understanding why he was there, and their mouths could only part further when the words ‘I’m here for the temp job,’ left his mouth.

It was one thing for them to always see students come in and out with their own styles, even if they couldn’t understand why someone would wear such a thing, much less a child, and how their parents them walk out like that- but to see someone who was supposed to be working here temporarily….it wasn’t very common. At least for them.

See, Eddie had never owned very much 'proper clothing,' at least not something someone would wear to a job as a substitute teacher. He wasn't the type, but because he had to keep up with the role of being Harrington, he thought he might as well be somewhat exact to his friend.

And by that it resulted to wearing his usual- only without the holes or marks that always managed to make an appearance on his clothes. Which honestly, took a while for him to find since he had to unpack all his shit. Then topped with his leather jacket and his framed lenses that rested on the top of his head.

His damn eyesight has gotten even shittier than what it was when he was younger. He lays it on aging- not because his sight is just like that in general.

It was far from what Steve 'the hair' Harrington would be seen wearing (beside the frames), but there was no way Eddie Munson was going to put on what could only be seen as something a single father would wear- no. Nope.

And that's that his friend didn't even have children.

"Mr. Brenner will see you now."

—

"We were submitted your resume, it was very impressive...." Brenner brought up and Eddie just hummed in return. Fully knowing that it was shit he typed and sent in. He wasn't even sure what he had put on there now that he thinks about it.

He just kept 'mhming' to everything the man next to him said, not really listening.

"So how's this going to work? You gonna to pay me upfront or-" Eddie cut off as the head of the school spoke. Brenner’s eyebrows pulled together.

"Uh, I don't understand?" He said as they walked through.

"Oh y'know just about getting paid, like now. If so, that'd be," Eddie's tongued clicked as he made the okay sign his hand. His eyes going all around as he takes everything in.

"Oh I see, well that's not necessarily how we do it." Mr. Brenner replied.

"Okay, well when you do, just make it out to Eddie Munson, y'know for purposes...." Eddie trailed off as they stopped in front of a door.

"You could just settle this in the front with whoever is at the desk, at the end of the day." Brenner unfolded with gesture.

"Hm, and when's that?" Eddie queried with pursed lips, trying to time the schedule in his head. He wasn't looking to be there for hours at a time, he wasn't about to have to relive his HS years even if most of the time he showed up late or never.

"We begin a 7:45 and were let out fifteen after 3."

"Uh huh, so you think I could leave early or is that not a thing here?...." Eddie questioned, bringing his forefinger to his lips as he looked at the guy in front of him, who seemed to be trying to take in his request. "Y'know what, I could stay."

Mr. Brenner adjusted themselves before turning to the temp, "Mr. Harrington, we have a reputation to uphold and when it comes to rules, we prefer to follow them."

"Oh I get it, you don't have to tell me. I'm all about the rules," Eddie lied, lips curling up at his response because he was not even close to being one to do what is told.

"And if a kid gets out of line, there'll be no hold back from me when I-" Eddie's hand gestured in a way that only implied hitting someone over the head which earned a shake from the head of the school.

"No, we're not about that sort of stuff here."

"I see, so is it all verbal then? I'll tell them off. I have no issues with cussing. I mean I can't speak without it-" if he hadn't been cut off he would’ve said things he shouldn't have. Not like he hadn’t already….

"Mr. Harrington. If you have any issues with the students just send them to me, and I'll take it from there."

"Got it." Eddie gave a thumbs up, a sutble way of understanding while also ending the conversation that they were having.

The both of them turning to the door, as Brenner pushed it open. the voices of students settling when the two of them entered as they took to their seat that they hadn't been sitting at.

"Everyone, I'd like you guys to welcome the new substitute, Mr. Harrington. He'll be your here until your teacher returns. Whenever that may be...." The latter words muttered under breath as Brenner gestured for Eddie to step further in.

Huh, so this was what it was like to be at the front of the room. He wouldn't know since at school he always sat towards the back, which he preferred.

Eddie walked in more, chin up as he briefed the room, much like his teacher did then when they were watching everyone. He always wanted to see how it was....he couldn't see why though now that he was up here. He stood there leisurely, back to the desk at the front as he leaned on it.

Seeing how everyone's eyes were on him. While some weren't even phased, primarily just there because it was required for attendance, others were wide eyed with parted mouths- something that resembled the faces of the staff who he met when he got there.

"Why don't you put your name on the board so they know." Mr. Brenner suggested after a few short minutes.

"Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you say...." Eddie turned to look for a marker, taking one from the ledge of the table and hovering it over the surface of the board.

Just when he was about to put his own name, he remembered why he was there. And who he was supposed to be. Shit. Harrington have one 'r' or two? He never paid attention so it never mattered but as of now, it could be of use to know that sort of thing.

Wiping what he wrote as he turned to the full room.

"Y'know why am I putting it down when you guys already know, you heard it so," Eddie clapped his hands together and shrugged. Holding a look on his face that said 'if you weren't listening that's on you.'

"Or you could just refer to me as Mr. H. Whatever, it doesn't matter." He sighed when he got no response.

Brenner watched the interaction with a pulled expression....okay then not going to question that.

"So, the curriculum is on the desk and we’ve gone over everything, do you have any questions?" Mr. Brenner asked.

"Mhm, when's break time?"

"There's no break time aside from lunch, which already passed. Is there anything else?" The man repeated, ready to leave.

"Uh, nope. That's it. I'm the teacher, all I need is minds to teach." Eddie gestured, with a little emphasis.

"Uh huh, well then. If that is all- I'll be on my way." The head of the school turned to leave, though not before eyeing the room once more to make sure everyone was doing what they were supposed to, and left with a shut.

It was still for about a minute until Eddie got up on the desk to get over and to his seat, which he could've just gone around but it's Eddie. The chair reclined when his back pressed into it more, prepping his feet up as he looked back to everyone just staring at him.

"So, you guys talk or am I going to have to do it for you?" He asked as he watched some of them shuffle in their seats.

"We talk, I mean we have mouths so what do you think?" One of the students lipped. Eddie sat up when they spoke, eyes centered on the back to where it came from.

With his legs now on the floor, and hands clasped in front of him, he leaned forward.

"S'cuse me?"

"You asked a question and I answered. Why ask something if you're not going to take what you get." He said as if it wasn't clear, shrugging his lenky shoulders as he stared at the temp who was currently looking back intently.

"Uh huh, what's your name?" Eddie seeked.

"Mike Wheeler."

"Mhm, Mike Wheeler- shut up." There were a few chuckles that went around, Mike scrunching his face at this guy's response. Probably because teachers never really spoke back like that to students, so seeing Eddie lip him, he was a little stupefied.

"As I was saying- wait what is this? Like what grade are we talking here?" Eddie stopped his intitial sentence abruptly, trying to ask the main shit. He took a job and didn't even know what he was supposed to be teaching.

"Uh sir, we're in High School."

Eddie wasn't sure what to take in first, that he had gotten himself into a role somewhere he wasn't looking to be, and a HS at that, or the fact that he was just referred to as sir. Christ, he wasn't that old.

He should've really asked more about the position before he took it.

"I was not expecting that...." Eddie muttered under his breath to himself. "Okay, so we aren't going to be doing shit because I said so and don't come up to me and ask because I'm just gonna tell you to go back to your seat. Now, get to work." Eddie clapped.

"But you just said we have nothing, so how could we work?" This time, the one that spoke up was to the front near him. His curls peeking out from his cap. And though he imposed a solid question, it was how he put it that got Eddie’s attention. Not at all missing the way the boy lipped it with the narrow of his eyes.

Eddie got to his feet, trudging to the students desk and placed his hand on top of the surface before getting in the kids face.

"Listen up, curly," Eddie commented. "I'm just doing what is told- and that's being here. By that, it doesn't mean I'm going to go step by step and follow the rules, m'kay? Okay." With that, Eddie went back to his desk.

"It's Dustin. And by now, attendance was supposed to be taken so we could get on with our day. That means our other-"

"Mhm, that means nothing to me, so like I said get to work. Or in this case, do something that doesn't involve you being in my hair." Eddie fixed as he wasn't looking to get corrected again by a child.

"But we have to take attendance or we'll get marked as unexcused or even worse, absent." Dustin raised, nodding his head to the sheet attached to the clipboard that was sitting literally within arms reach of Eddie.

"Christ kid, m'sorry. Lemme just-" Eddie interrupted himself as he chucked the clipboard across the room over to the can, which he wasn't even close to getting into. "There we go."

"You were so off with that."

Eddie just about threw his head back because shit, how many of them were there and why were they all talking? He should've not even said anything to begin with when he got there.

His head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing at the new voice who spoke.

"Hm, really? I couldn't tell...." he retorted looking to the boy as he waited for him to say his name since everyone seemed to be telling him.

"L-Lucas."

"Well, Lucas, I wasn't exactly trying to aim for it."

"Then why'd you throw it over there? In that direction if you weren't intending on—"

"Oh my god- are you guys always like this? Y'know just," Eddie brought his hands up, moving them in sync as if to show them talking. "Now, shut up. Get. to. work. Or just sit there."

For the rest of the time there in that period, everyone left Eddie be. For the most part. There was the occasional back and forth with curly who just wouldn’t shut up. The kid had a mouth on him. And when the bell rung for the end of the day, Eddie was relieved to get out of there.

More than it to be exact. Practically falling off the chair and rushing through the rows for some input. High fives.

To which he actually got in return by some of the students, while others just watched him with question and shook their heads.

Eddie just about tailed in out the doors, hearing Brenner call out for him as he leaped over the rails of the staircase and out the front entrance of the school. He was too busy, too in his mind to get out of there that he hadn’t seen the person off to the side, trying to make sure students were filing out properly.

Humph

Eddie literally toppled into your back, almost falling totally on top of you if it hadn’t been for your quick reaction to getting your footing.

“Huh, and I thought it’d just be the students that tried to get out of here the second the rooms cleared out. But no, we all have our duties…” Your voice clipped through the noise of all the talking, kids pushing by to get to the doors and be on their way. You’d like nothing more than to be out those doors too right now but that won’t be for a while.

Eddie adjusted his stance, looking to you as you stared back at him with a blank yet pointed look. Something your students were all too aware and had seen too many times especially when it got closer to the end of the day. They always tried pulling shit over you, no matter how many times you saw through it. They were just messing with you, afterall you’re a favorite of theirs- but when it was repetitive thing and you hadn't gotten much sleep the previous day- it didn't go by as smoothly as it usually does.

"Sorry...." Eddie couldn't remember the last time he felt so small under someone's stare, especially one of a teacher. Like he had just been repriminded. And that's that whenever that did happen, he wasn't even phased. But this- you- it's like you were staring through him and could see through all his shit. He felt like a child, a teen again.

It might've also been too that he had been literally gaping at you because shit, who know there were teachers who looked like this. They hired you?

You were something else and he liked it. A lot. It was like back in school when he would be crushing over someone he knew would never go for him. Even though he may've seemed like a total grown up now, and outgrew some of those young features, he was still the same Eddie as he was back in school.

"You the new temp?"

Your voice interrupted Eddie's gaze and he almost forgot where he was. And he nodded, not capable of getting the words off his tongue quite yet.

He cleared his throat, put his hands in his pockets before taking them out to then cross his arms. Uncertain of what to even do with them.

You watched him with interest, seeing him obviously shuffle in place and nodding in understanding. He looked unsure of himself and it had you sighing as you fixed your tone from just moments before. He was new, and he was a fellow teacher- the least you could do is pull yourself together and cut the hardcore approach.

Little was it known though how not even a few short minutes of running into him, Eddie had literally been back talking a room full of teens.

You held your hand out for him to shake as you told him who you were. An apology on your tongue too to follow.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Eddie stared at your outstretched hand, and then after a few short seconds, took it in his.

“Ed-” Eddie almost choked at what slipped out. “I mean, Steve. Steve Harrington.”

He was quick to catch himself, and he was crossing his fingers that you didn’t pick up on it. But of course, like every teacher who is actually in tune with that shit— you lifted a brow. Though nothing else other than that left you. Nodding your head slowly and uncertainly before letting it go as well as his hand, which you had still been holding.

“Well, Welcome Mr. Harrington. We’re looking forward to having you here and I look forward working with you.” You say offering a tilt of your head and a soft lift of your lips.

Eddie thought you looked young. Like you too, were a teen. The way your features under the lighting showed and how your eyes were full, no matter how much being around a shitload of hormonal pubescents took out of you. Not that you weren’t young looking but it just made him feel like he was back in school again.

Eddie was about to utter something until he was quite literally nudged by one of the ongoing students. Huh, he forgot he was still here. Your eyes followed the culprit, knowing well who it was and sighing.

“I’ll let you go. Seems like you were in a rush to be somewhere- that or you were just looking to get out of here like the rest of them.” You poke, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as you walk by.

Eddie turned to watch you leave, letting out a breathy chuckle when he hears you reprimanding a student further down the hall.

He still can’t believe he’s back in school but at least there’s you.

—

A/N: feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

Tagged whoever requested it, if you’d like to be taken off just lmk. These updates are going to be slow by the way. Just depends on my schedule and if I feel like taking the time to pull myself away.

TAG(S): @jamdoughnutmagician @heydreamchild @vol2eddie

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot

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wintergreen28 · 1 year

Text

Darkness in Colorado

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader, Aaron Hotchner x Fem!OGCharacters

Summary: Aaron and Reader get lost trying to find the unsub, and it’s getting colder and darker by the minute.

Word Count: 2k

Trigger Warnings: canon-typical violence, PTSD, possibly bad writing

A/N: This is probably going to be a fun little two-parter if you would like it to be!

It had been long since darkness enveloped the forest they were searching through. It had been long since the temperatures started to drop, and they regretted not putting on thicker layers. It had been long since Liz didn’t want to kill Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m just saying, if we turn our flashlights off, and let our eyes adjust, we’ll have less of a chance being spotted.”

“And I’m just saying, that’s a stupid fucking idea. It leaves us more open to attack. Especially from behind.” Aaron grumbled back at her.

“You would like it from behind, wouldn’t you?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Shame.” Liz muttered, half-joking, turning off her flashlight. She continued to peruse forward, leaves crunching under her boots, making her way through the cursed forest this state called a national park. Why they had to come here in the first place was beyond her, but she guessed a serial killer couldn’t really pick a better spot.

Aaron reluctantly turned his flashlight off behind her, and the darkness covered them once again. They paused, blinking through the initial sensory deprivation, and adjusted.

“See? This isn’t so bad!” Liz exclaimed, continuing deeper into the woods.

“Admit it. We’re completely and utterly lost.”

“Didn’t the agency give you that fancy little GPS thingy? Why not use that?”

“I left it in the SUV.”

“Of course you would.” Aaron nearly fell behind her, stumbling on a root of a tree, and she snorted. “I thought you had the best eyes, Boss.” He scoffed, trying to continue on as smoothly as possible.

“Can you at least admit we’re lost?” Aaron grumbled.

“I admitted it an hour ago, where were you?”

“Trying to contact the team, you nimwit.” Liz couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when she had started to dislike Aaron today. Maybe it was minutes ago, maybe hours, but she felt that she finally returned his not-so-secret hatred for her. Ever since she had joined the team, he hadn’t been her biggest fan. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing she had come in at a turbulent time in the team–they had just gotten off of a very stressful case where Elle was nearly killed by a murderer who called himself “The Fisher King.” Liz was initially brought in as a temporary substitute for Elle, but later became a permanent fixation under the advising of Strauss and Gideon.

She knew that it definitely hurt Aaron for him to be undermined by people who he felt had it out for him. Gideon, who was formerly the head of the team, and Strauss who was just an all-around heinous bitch. She also knew that she likely wasn’t as qualified for the job as other applicants had been, though had some unique experience and insight into the job and into the minds of others. Being a veteran and a main fixture in Afghanistan for a while, being a board-certified trauma surgeon, and having worked alongside NCIS for a few years was an odd skill set for someone in the BAU to say the least. She was just glad that she had something to offer, especially when looking at autopsies and being able to help victims who were near-death at the scenes.

Having a recommendation from Jethro Gibbs certainly helped her application. She had worked with his team in the NCIS for a few years after being hijacked from her hospital position while consulting for them. She had fallen in love with the work, and later moved onto the FBI and he put a length recommendation and stuck out his neck for her through the application process. The rivalry between the FBI and NCIS was well-known, but Gibbs thought it well-worth helping Liz follow her dreams which she sorely appreciated.

Maybe that was where it started. Aaron read NCIS on her application. Was the rivalry sourcing his distaste for her? Was the lack of experience and suddenly moving up the ranks in NCIS what made him hate her? Whatever it was, she just wanted to get out of this damn forest as quickly as possible.

“Why did you stop?” Liz looked back at him. Her feet did stop moving. Wonder when they did that. “You okay?” He asked another question.

“Yeah. Fine.” She stayed in her spot, turning her head as if she could feel something. Aaron tried to follow her line of sight to no avail.

“Are you sure?” Liz nodded her head, swiveling in place, searching out into the darkness. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She started moving, and Aaron followed close behind her, knowing better than to doubt the instincts of the former sniper. She moved slowly, cautiously, searching and scanning the treeline around her, even in the dark her vision was stark clear.

She stopped again.

Looked to the right.

Put her hand on her gun. She blew all the air out in her lungs, and Aaron drew his gun behind her. Silence was like a knife cutting through the winter wind as she waited. Aaron only had half a second to wonder what she was waiting for before she drew and shot. He looked in the direction of the shot, and found a man on the ground. She rushed over to him, kicking the weapon in his hand away from him, and checking to see where the bullet landed. In the abdomen. A little off from where she intended, but effective enough.

“Shit! The fuck did you do that for?” The man groaned, grasping at his side, still not happy about the gun pointed at his head.

“What are you doing out in the woods in the middle of the night with a gun?”

“I could ask you the same thing! I keep a gun on me for the bears.”

“A handgun is not gonna do anything for the bears.”

“Neither is yours. Again– why the fuck did I get shot?” His breathing was becoming more agonal with every word.

“FBI agents.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. Where’s Max Green?”

“You’ll never find him.”

“You told us we would never find you, and here we are.” He was losing blood fast, and Liz looked around to find something to help. She needed to at least try to keep the bastard alive until they could get out of this godforsaken forest they called a state park. Fucking Colorado. At least she understood why he was killing in the winter months.

She ripped off her jacket, immediately regretting her decision, using it to pack his wound. Aaron raised his eyebrows at her and she seemed to tell him to shut up. He kept his gun trained on the man, refusing to lean down to the level and losing the shot if he tried anything.

“He’ll probably bleed out if we don’t get out of here soon.” She looked around, at the footsteps now being covered in snow. Their tracks would be gone within at least twenty minutes. They needed to move, but where? The footprints would disappear at some point when the snow filled in.

“You know your way around this forest.” She slightly asked him, and he deigned not to answer. “If you want to make it out of here alive, you have to help us get out.”

“Who says I want to get out alive? I get out alive and I go to jail.”

“None of us get out alive and your story doesn’t get told.”

“What story is there to tell? Some abused kid with daddy issues kills gay men to make himself feel better. Boo-hoo same old same old.” Aaron glanced between the unsub and Liz, not sure whether or not to intervene. It felt like the cold was thieving away his brain cells, and he couldn’t fathom actually being okay enough to help at the moment. Liz was no better, trying to conceal her shivering body now bare to the elements from the lack of a coat. Her aim was shaking, and she didn’t know if she could do this much longer. She looked back up at Aaron, pleading with her eyes for some sort of help on how to deal with the situation.

“You’re going to help us. If you don’t, we’re going to leave you out here to have a very slow, painful death. I’m sure the wolves will have fun with you.”

“Go for it. I know you won’t do it. I’m your murderer, so it looks like you’re going to be freezing out here with me tonight.” Liz moved sluggishly towards the man’s pockets, digging around while he protested. She fished out his wallet, and to her magnificent luck, a satellite phone.

“Oh thank god.” She muttered under her breath, trying to use her shaking fingers to type in the number that would connect her with Garcia. It had a low battery, so they only had one shot. She rushed the phone up to her ear, the cold metal shocking her ear, but she held it there desperately waiting for the familiar ringing sound to grace her ears. Luckily, it did. A click told her that the phone was sent to voicemail, and she nearly cried. She just wanted to hear Penelope’s warm voice tell her it was going to be okay, but now she couldn’t even manage that. She made sure to leave a message, hoping that she would look through her answering machine for it.

“Penny, honey, it’s me Liz. Aaron and I are stuck out in the park that we were searching for the unsub for. We found him, but we’re lost and our GPS is in the truck. It’s snowing, and getting dark, and we’re very lost. If you could send the team, or anybody really, to come and find us–it–it would be appreciated. If you can’t, we love you very much. See you soon.” She hung up, hoping that there was at least a little bit of battery left on the phone. She tucked it into her back pocket, and looked through the man’s wallet. Rob Parsons was his name, a Colorado driver’s license, and small pictures of a young boy holding a teddy bear on the other side of the wallet.

She fell back on her ass, relieving the pressure of kneeling on her knees. She moved to train the gun back on Rob’s face, her face more somber than it had been before. She was no stranger to what was about to happen. She had seen it all the time in her previous work paths, soldiers starving to death, lost in the desert, sailors freezing to death in the water, deaths considered horrible and extreme, but unfortunately so common in different areas of the world. She just hated that Aaron had to go through with it too.

When she signed onto the military, it was pretty much given that one of her main outcomes could be dying a horrible death. She had made peace with it years ago, no matter how morbid it had been at that time. It was something talked about as a joke on base, or banned from conversational topics while overseas. Morale of the troops was more important than the reality of the harsh situation. Aaron seemed to have the picture-perfect life to her. At least before Haley passed, he had a beautiful wife and son, a family to go home to at the end of the day instead of a rather bare apartment, with minimal pictures of the people she loved. It helped her when waking up from nightmares to have a bare, calming environment. It reminded her of the barracks, or the small apartment she had shared with Gibbs for a month on assignment.

“We’re not getting out of here, are we?” Aaron asked the dejected Liz, staring at Rob’s face with an empty stare.

“I don’t know.” Rob looked paler by the second, her jacket not doing much to stop the bleeding. It was dark, and the thick tree cover blocked out any natural light from the star-filled sky, and snow fluttered down silently. The only sound was their breathing, and the occasional hiss and groan from Rob across from them. He was going to die soon. So were they.

#aaron hotchner x reader #angst #they are so lost #hotch x reader #i love aaron hotchner

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

luck be a (leading) lady | part 8.

[Posted 2022.09.26]

Summary: Y/N has always been a background character. That’s just life for some folks isn’t it? But what if she’s determined to not just be another member in the ensemble? What if someone helps her step into the spotlight in her own special way?

Warnings for the Series: a teeny bit of angst but mainly fluff

Pairing: ricky bowen x black!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I will get back to the Harry Potter series when I finish this one

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The pizza place meeting resulted in sleepovers at Big Red and Ashlyn’s houses. The boys were obviously at Big Red’s and the girls plus Seb were at Ashlyn’s. You all were running on very limited time to figure out a less egregious beast transformation for Ricky. Kourtney quickly stopped at her house and came back with all the fabric she could find. Her idea of making the beast cape faux fur on the other side was kind of brilliant. It would just enhance the beast look and might distract from if a mishap happens with the mask.

You guys were excited while working, even ordering a bunch of food so Ash wouldn’t have to dirty up her kitchen. Seb being there was also great. He was roughly the same proportions as Ricky that he could be a substitute mannequin. Kourtney practically squealed when she held up part of the cape to Seb’s chest.

“This is so good. Ha, it kind of looks like something Carlos would wear.”

“Yeah, doesn’t he walk around in, like, Armani sweatpants?” Ashlyn joked.

While you all laughed, Seb just mumbled out a response. Everyone put down their scissors and spoonfuls of food. The costume change could wait. Seb’s sadness was more important. Nini was the first to ask the sensitive question. Seb sighed.

“I guess you could say so. He met a group of really really photogenic guys on spring break and he seems pretty happy. So, now I’m sad.”

“If you want to see him happy, that’s with you.” Ashlyn’s words made all of you nod.

Seb flopped onto the couch. “Yeah, but by default, right? He kinda has to be.”

“What does that mean?” Kourtney moved over so he could sit better.

“There aren’t many choices at East High for a guy like Carlos.”

Nini shook her head. “No, Seb. Have you told him how you feel?”

“Not so good at the saying feelings part out loud.”

“It never hurts to put yourself out there,” Gina chimed in. “Or so I’ve heard.”

Nini held up a finger. “Right, do you want to tell us what you and EJ giggling at the pizza place was all about?”

“I also have some questions in that general area,” Ashlyn said.

“It was just a nic—”

“G, he picks you up for school now. You haven’t ridden with me in like forever.” You cut her off, making the rest look at Gina with excitement.

Your almost sister gave you a look. “And Ricky coming over every single breakfast is?”

It was your turn to be stared at. You shrugged your shoulders. “I had a crush on Ricky that died in New York. We’re friends, that’s it.”

“Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. I just got over him? We’re friends, what good does it do me to look at him any differently? Besides, I’d miss Midnight McDonalds too much if we ever broke up. Flounder and Prima are purely platonic.”

“Flounder?”

“Something stupid he came up with New York.”

“Midnight McDonalds?” Nini asked. She had gotten up, going back to sorting the pins for the cape.

You, and the others, got quiet. Gina shared a look with you. Maybe mentioning her ex-boyfriend was dumb on your parts even if you two were just joking around. Also mentioning you had a crush on him at one point was not smart either. You tried to wave your hand around nonchalantly.

“It’s just something we’ve been doing since homecoming. There’s a park and a twenty-four hour McDonald’s near our houses, we just get burgers and fries and talk if we’re having a tough time.” You looked up in the air in thought. “Or just want milkshakes. I can’t believe he dips his fries in the strawberry flavor… Let’s get back to work!”

You all immediately focused back on the cape transformation. The boys were making less progress. Ashlyn’s text asking them to build a spinning platform for Ricky’s transformation was a lot easier said than done. You all felt relieved that Carlos actually liked that idea. The first test of spinning Ricky wasn’t going terribly.

“I just don’t understand what happened,” Carlos said as they spun Ricky. “Seb doesn’t seem like the jealous type.”

EJ shrugged. “Maybe h—”

“He’s worried you’re only dating him because he’s the only other boy at school into Drag Race. Ash texted me.” Big Red put his phone down.

“What? Why wouldn’t he just say that to me?”

“People are complicated,” EJ said as he leaned against a shelf. “No one has it all together as much as they seem.”

“Some even less than that,” Ricky offered.

EJ jokingly rolled his eyes. “Just cause you're single for like the first time in your life.”

“It’s, uh, it’s not that.”

“Huh?”

Big Red cut in. “Yeah, huh? Why do I not know? Dude, we tell each other everything.”

“Don’t tell me you and Nini are back together?” Carlos got up to start working on the mechanism again.

“No! It’s not abou—” His cellphone started to ring. “Hello? You’re at the door? Uh, yeah. Big Red, your front door.”

A few minutes later, you came down with Big Red. You held up a drink carrier and a very large bag.

“It’s midnight. I got you boys some food too.”

Ricky smiled as you handed him the strawberry milkshake. “How’d you know I was having a hard time?”

“I just had a feeling… And Kourtney requested I make you try on the cape before we keep working on it.”

“She didn’t come too?” He asked while you checked the cape did fit properly.

You puffed up your cheeks. “Kourt is saving Seb and girls’ night by sending me.”

“What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did any— Gina and I may have been… less than aware of our surroundings when joking about her and EJ’s relationship.”

EJ stopped eating his fries to stick his face between the two of you. “We don’t have a relationship.”

“How does Gina and EJ’s lack of relationship almost ruin Seb and girls’ night?”

“Not theirs, ours. Gina tried to insist that if EJ picking her up every morning meant they were a couple, that you coming over for breakfast means we’re a couple.”

“It’s just breakfast.”

“That’s what I said! I said breakfast was like our Midnight McDonald’s and it got kind of awkward with Nini. That’s kind of my fault though. Mentioning I used to have a crush on you was probably not the way to confirm we have no relationship.”

Ricky choked on his milkshake. “You had a crush on me?”

“Yeah,” you said while getting your own food out of the bag. “When we almost got snowed in at the school. I think it’s just cause you help me so much, it went away pretty quickly but G always brings it up like some kind of defense.”

“So she brought it up?”

“Yep and now I’m running errands and returning to a hopefully less tense house.” You dipped one of your fries in his strawberry milkshake. “Nope, still tastes disgusting. So, the cape fits?”

“Ye-yeah, it’s good.”

“Perfect, Kourt’s gonna love the sound of that. Bye, guys. Oh and EJ, please just go out with Gina already.”

“We’re just friends!” He tried to yell but you were already out of Big Red’s house.

Carlos tilted his head. “But why though? The googly eyes are kind of obvious. Is it because you’re graduating?”

“Or because she’s best friends with Ash?” Ricky suggested.

EJ ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, it’s because of Nini. Don’t worry—”

“I wasn’t,” Ricky said.

“I don’t have feelings for her anymore, I just don’t want to get rejected again.”

They all nodded. Big Red even brought up that it was a fair reason. EJ gave them a small side smile before getting back to work on the spinning device.

“You know the only thing I’m really proud of about my time with Nini is letting her go.”

Ricky sort of froze. For once, he and EJ had the exact same thought. But he was supposed to be the heartbroken one. He wasn’t supposed to be over her. That’s what Ricky was all about. No changes. Just staying constant. And staying constant meant that he should have still been in love with Nini. He looked up at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. You took a breath before speaking.

“Wow, Big Red, so glad you don’t take your time locking doors. Anyway, quit with the building. Kourt just called and said Howie gave her the broadway plans for the beast transformation that North High bought as some apology or something for lying. We’re supposed to meet them at the school. Bring the keys for the stage door.”

The boys jumped up with a quickness. You walked over to where Ricky was putting on his jacket.

“Are you riding with me?”

“Actually I need to talk with Carlos about something.”

“See you there then.”

“See you.” He gave a little wave that you didn’t see.

Figuring out the plans for the beast transformation was great but it didn’t help you guys’ confidence after seeing the North High kids perform. They were nothing short of amazing. Their last performance finished the day before your school’s opening night. No one felt like there was enough time between performances to figure out how to make East High’s Beauty and the Beast stand out.

“How are you so calm?” Ricky asked as you walked past him.

“Hmm?” You took out one of your earbuds. “Did you say something?”

“How are you calm? Everyone else is running around without their heads.”

You handed him one of your earbuds. “Audiobook and goldfish.”

Ricky stuck in the earbud to listen while you went to go get your snacks from your bag. He had no clue what you were reading but the voice was soothing nonetheless. You came back quickly with the goldfish, offering it up. Ricky took a few while you fussed that his makeup wasn’t done. He chuckled when you went to apply eyeliner.

“I don’t think our theater’s lights are nearly as good as Saltwater’s.”

“Still, they’ll wash you out… We put the invitations on the correct seats, right?”

“I triple checked the seats were reserved for the scouts.”

“Ricky, Y/N… Here.” Nini was handing out her opening night cards.

You smiled as you took the small envelope. “First one ever. Okay, your makeup looks good. I’m going to try not to freak about our second performance.”

“Second performance?” Nini asked.

“Yeah, for the Berklee scout— We won’t be at the afterparty or we’ll be late.”

You left to go focus on the show. Everyone else was concerned about the judges for the Menkies. All you could focus on was the fact that the Berklee scouts were actually there. You had peeked through the curtain to see them picking up the second invitation. Nothing on their face read disgust or annoyance so that must have been a good sign. Ricky went to catch his breath in the hall before the show started. He didn’t expect to see Lily there. You guys were only aware of one North High member being there and Lily was not that cast member. He was going to just walk away but part of becoming a new, better Ricky meant hearing people out. Still, Lily would only get five minutes before he left to get in his place on stage.

He felt confident performing. Everything was going rather well. Unlike last time, there weren’t any accidents, no forgotten lines. By the time the fifteen minute intermission rolled around, he felt that the cast might actually pull it off and win the Menkies— or at least beat North High. He was waiting in the dressing room with Big Red for the intermission to be over.

“Woah, what’s the problem?” He asked as you walked by with panicked eyes.

“Your harness is missing. Natalie and Ms. Jenn have been looking everywhere for it.”

“If it’s missing, we can’t do the transformation.”

“I know. You’re going to have to do it the old way. They’ll just spin you and you throw the mask.”

“I’ve never gotten that once.”

“First time for everything.”

The rest of the show went okay. But honestly, perfect performance or not, your cast always knew how to have fun. You and Ricky were whispering to each other as you led the scouts to the drama club room when the whole thing was over. The scouts sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Ricky gave you a smile when the scouts told you that they weren’t bothered at all by the second performance and actually enjoyed the initiative you were taking to show them your talents that didn’t have a chance to shine during the musical. They didn’t say much else. They only told you to expect an email before the next school year before they left the room. You watched them leave, staying perfectly still until the last scout was out of sight. Ricky almost grunted when you basically threw yourself into his arms.

“Thank you.”

“It was fun, maybe more fun than the musical.”

“I know there’s an afterparty at Slices but since Gina and EJ are already skipping, do you want to do something else?”

“Like what?”

“You still haven’t taught me to skate.”

“You want to be a skate rat?”

“I just want to see why you like it so much.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Ricky kept looking over at you as he drove away from the school. Of course, you guys stopped at McDonald’s before heading over to the skate park. He rarely went to the outdoor one but considering it was late, he already knew the indoor park would be closed. The only thing that kept playing in the back of his mind as you guys got out of the car was that night you told him you had a crush on him. Talking with Carlos had given him a lot to think about. He felt a certain way about you that he had ignored because he was so hung up on Nini. And now it was a bit too late.

(part 9)

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@mishtay

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107

#hsmtmts fic #hsmtmts #ricky bowen x reader

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elenavr13 · 1 year

Text

Broken Illusions

Darkiplier x Reader

Warning: Little bit of swearing

*Y/n & Dark have slowly gotten closer in the little time they have known each other; however something angers Dark causing him to push Y/n away. Also, Dark has hidden his “demon side” by using his powers to appear human.*

Y/N’S POV

For the past week and a half, I have gone to the library to read with Dark whenever I wasn’t working. Sometimes we discuss the books we have both read and other times, we just talk and get to know each other. It’s not much but I enjoy it.

Today I went to the library as usual. When I open the door however, I quickly catch on that something is wrong. Books, that had once been neatly organized & placed on shelves, have been thrown about the room, littering the floor. Most of the furniture is overturned & the normally open curtains are drawn closed. Amidst the wreckage, Dark sits on the couch we typically share, calmly reading a book.

“Get out.” He demands without looking up from his book.

“Are you ok? Do you…?”

“I said get out!” He slams the book closed and stands up.

“S-sorry,” I didn’t mean to upset him more so I swiftly leave the room. He probably just needs space & now isn’t the right time. Tomorrow will be better. What made him so mad in the first place?

*the next day*

I hoped that I could talk to Dark before I got caught up in work but Wilford basically drags me out of bed, not giving me anytime to see my friend. Begrudgingly, I substitute my check-in on Dark with a text asking if he feels better & if he needs anything.

About an hour into my workday, I completely forget about Dark’s outrage. By the end of the day, I am exhausted. I had been running from one place to the next, only getting one, measly, little 30 minute lunch break that felt more like 5 minutes. I can’t wait to head back to the library where it is quiet & relaxing. Unfortunately, the mess, that meets my eyes when I swing open the doors, reminds me of what I need to do first. I pull out my phone & open my text to Dark which is…left on read. Of course, what was I really expecting? It’s Dark. He’s not the type to ask for help. I step into the room to see if he is still there or not. He most likely moved to his bedroom for the night & hasn’t come out since. The door slams behind me a little louder than I expect, making my ears ring. It wasn’t that loud, was it? My eyes scan the room noticing it in even worse condition than before. The windows are now bare & their drapes lay in a heap from being torn down. Pieces of broken & shattered decorative figurines scatter the floor.

A deep, venomous voice startles me. “Why are you back?” I turn to the corner of the room that is shrouded in darkness. Of course Dark would lurk there. He still doesn’t seem to be in a mood to talk, though.

“I’m sorry, if now’s not a good time, I can come back later.” I reach for the door handle but it locks before my hand makes contact with the cold metal. How the hell?

“Why are you here?” Dark steps out of the shadows. A shiver runs down my spine. He looks different –almost dead. His skin has paled. The bags under his eyes darkened & a red & blue aura now surrounds him. The ringing in my ears has not ceased but only intensifies now that he stands closer.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I gulp.

He slowly & menacingly strolls to me. Instinctively, my feet mirror his in the opposite direction. The ringing grows with every step he takes. “Why? It’s not like I’d ever tell you why I’m upset.” Because I was only a couple feet into the room, my back hits the wall all too soon. When it does, I freeze in place.

“You don’t need to tell me why you’re upset. I just…” I can’t think of what to say that isn’t a repeat of what I just said.

He stops about a foot away from me. “You just what?” Dread fills my chest.

“I…You’re my friend, Dark, & I-I wanted to help you through whatever you are going through.” His shoulders fall.

“I am no friend.”

“I don’t just call anyone my friend.”

“Look at me! Do I look like someone you’d want to be friends with? I’m a demon for fuck’s sake. Why would you ever make friends with a demon?” You’re a demon? I guess that explains your change in appearance but…you don’t seem or act like a demon, at least not how I imagine them to be. Then again, the devil was & always will be a gentleman. Still…Dark? His aura glitches, distorting some of his features. I don’t know how to respond led alone contemplate this new knowledge.

He sighs & meanders to a nearby chair, setting upright. He continues cleaning the room. The ringing becomes very minimal so much so that I can only hear it if I focus on it. I came to help him feel better but I think I just made it worse. Him cleaning by himself pulls at my heart. I need to help him but he is a demon; I should stay away from him- ah, fuck it. I don’t care if he’s a demon or not. I’m helping. I lean down & pick up the open, upside-down book at my feet.

“You don’t need to help. It’s my mess.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

*time skip*

Dark & I pile up all the books into multiple piles –some reaching three feet tall. Now I have the task to put them back on the shelves. With a leg, wrapped around one of the steps so I don’t fall, & an armful of books, I lean out on the rolling ladder as far as I can. I transfer the final bound pages onto the shelf with my free hand. Finally, I’m done. I hang my arm off the ladder as I take a breather. This is not what I thought I was going to do today. I step down from ladder & brush myself off. When I turn around, I see Dark doing that thing where he just stares at me. After a second, he snaps out of his trance.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, barely audible.

“Are you really a demon?” I ask while inspecting his new look. This must be his “demon form”.

“Well, I’m clearly not human.” His response makes me chuckle.

“So I’m guessing you just altered yourself to appear normal.” He nods. “I don’t mind it, if you want my opinion. It makes your name make more sense.”

This time, he cracks up. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Uh, you can say no but I was wondering if you wanted to watch Nope with me. It’s a new, alien, horror movie.” I smile at him; hopefully it comes off as comforting. Maybe it isn’t the best idea to continue whatever relationship we have but I do still consider him my friend even if my friend is now a demon.

He tilts his head with a confused expression on his face before shrugging his shoulders. “Sounds interesting.”

“Then let’s go.” I make my way to the door, Dark following behind me.

#darkiplier #darkiplier x y/n #darkiplier x reader #markiplier ego x reader #youtuber ego #reader insert #markiplier

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wonwoonlight · 3 years

Text

my daisy / chapter 5 | kim mingyu

➝ CEO!Mingyu x Secretary!Reader

➝ strangers to lovers // single dad!Mingyu // fluff // lighthearted // non idol!au // like pls dont expect any dramas here lol // tiny bit of angst ig

➝ series warning: mentions of sex, no smut but there’s implied sexual activities, insecurity (as always jshbdjhsfshbf am sorry), curses, food, let me know if theres more ^^

➝ word count: 3.8k

➝ A/N: heh 4 more chapters and we're done already? how time flies by... anyway! as always, enjoy and don't hesitate to share your thoughts w me or ask about anything that might be confusing :D it means a lot to me, really<3

when your cousin asks you to be her substitute at SVT Inc. as she takes her maternity leave, you’re pretty sure this wasn’t what you signed up for.

series masterlist

Friday comes and you’re cracking your neck after the last meeting of the day ends. It’s only somewhere between 4 and 5PM, but you’ve somehow managed to keep the promise you made to yourself about freeing Mingyu’s schedule so he can have time for Gyuri even just a few hours more.

“You’re finished for the day, Sir,” you happily deliver the news to him after he lets you into his office. “Unless you want to go over the meeting or you have other agendas, you’re free to go home.”

Mingyu looks up in surprise, telling you to sit down in front of him. “How come?”

“I’m just good at my job like that,” you jokingly say. Evidently, the dynamics between the two of you have shifted since that day, you’ve gotten more comfortable around each other and you no longer avoid his gaze everytime it wanders to you. His cold exterior isn’t really for you to see anymore, and you’re already getting used to seeing his playful side more often than not when he’s surrounded by people he deems himself comfortable with like you and Seungkwan.

Sometimes you’re even borderline flirty, and you want to say that Mingyu’s the same; but you remind yourself once again that he is your boss and he has a kid. Plus, you have no way of knowing if Mingyu’s flirty with you or if that’s just how he naturally is when he jokes. You can’t help the bitter taste in your mouth everytime you remind yourself of it. “But really, you can get off work now if you want. No one’s going to say anything about the boss leaving the office one hour early for once. Everyone knows how often you stay late here.”

“Gyuri would be elated,” he laughs a little. “I’ll just go over this file and call it a day, then.”

“Say hi to Lili from me,” you grin before you stand up. “I’ll return to my desk and revise the agreement with JS Corp. Have a nice weekend, Sir.”

You miss the way Mingyu opens his mouth to say something, but the guy makes no effort to call you and let you make your way out of his office. His mind goes to the ridiculous amount of time Gyuri has been asking about you, but it’s weekend and he doubts you’d want to spend your time off with your boss and his kid no matter how much you like Gyuri.

Maybe some other day.

Just then, his phone rings and he glances at the screen. At the name of his friend, he immediately picks up the call and asks what’s up.

“When will you be off today?” Wonwoo asks from the other end.

“In a bit. Why?”

“The guys want to hang out,”he laughs as if it’s obvious. “Wanna see if you can make it.”

“Is it anywhere I can bring Gyuri?” he asks first, not bothering to ask who’d be coming. He’s sure Wonwoo wouldn’t extend an invitation to him this sudden if it’s not with their close circle. It has been quite some time since he sees them too, maybe letting Gyuri play with her uncles would lessen the mention of you in his household.

“We can just go to your place and order in if that’s the case,” Wonwoo suggests, saying the guys wouldn’t mind. “But there’s this family restaurant owned by one of my clients near my hotel. We can arrange a private room if you don’t want Gyuri to sit in the open.”

Mingyu stays silent for a while, contemplating his choices in his mind. Going to a family restaurant shouldn’t be too bad, and remembering the area of Wonwoo’s high-end hotel, it should be safe enough for Gyuri and her privacy. He winces at the thought of the hotel; the last time he was there, he’d woken up by himself and he swears he’d never drink past his limit ever again.

He bites his lip at the memory and at the joke fate is pulling between him and you. He’s never had a one night stand—at least not since Gyuri was born. He can’t do that when he has Gyuri waiting for him back home.

Mingyu can still remember that particular day vividly. It had been a while since he went out to have a drink and Seungcheol had mentioned he’s going to Exodus with Minghao if he wanted to join. He’d usually refuse, but, between failed deals and incompetent employees he almost yelled at that day, the week had been stressful. Plus, Gyuri was sleeping over her grandparents’ house so Mingyu had figured it should be okay.

He wasn’t supposed to get drunk off his head and ended up sleeping with you—or anyone, for that matter. But it’d been a while and he actually forgot he gets weirdly competitive over Seungcheol’s alcohol tolerance against his—which is how he ended up with more alcohol than he would’ve liked. Mingyu assumes you’re more or less in the exact same scenario as him by the way you left the moment you woke up and how you were always tense at the beginning everytime he’s nearby.

Maybe you’re afraid he’d bring it up, and then make a problem out of it or make it awkward between the two of you. But he doesn’t really have any reason to bring it up; what was he supposed to say, anyway? Ask why did you leave the moment you woke up? Ask if you enjoyed it as much as he did?

Mingyu sighs at the thought. It’s a one time thing and he’ll leave it at that.

“Where’s Seokmin?” you ask as you sit down next to Jihoon. You’ve never been here before, and you were supposed to go to the bar you usually go to when Soonyoung insists on trying this restaurant because his sister says it’s really good. He doesn’t really have any other friends to go to a restaurantwith except for your circle. His other friends are more fitting for a club—maybe a bar, but not restaurants, which is why he suddenly turns the steering wheel the other way when he remembers about this place.

“Dunno if he’s joining,” Soonyoung pouts. “He’s not picking up my call, too.”

“Should I try calling him?” you offer, phone already in your hand.

“And risk having my heart broken in case he picks up?” he dramatically answers. “No. I’ll just bother him some other day. It’s you, Miss New Secretary, that have been too busy to see us. You haven’t even told us where you work!”

You smile sheepishly at him, muttering an apology as you go through the menu. “I’ve been adapting, you know? And it’s been pretty good. I should be a bit freer after this, though.”

“I assume the new boss is good?” Jihoon joins in, leaning into his palm to look at you. “You haven’t been complaining to us at all.”

You automatically smile at the thought of Mingyu, but then you remember these guys know about the one-night stand venture and you remind yourself not to disclose the fact that your boss is that guy to your friends. They don’t need to know.

“Yeah. A bit too perfectionist, but it’s not surprising because he’s Jennie’s boss,” you laugh with them, and the conversation naturally goes to your cousin and her baby. Soonyoung, Jihoon, and Seokmin have always been affectionate towards you, which means their affection extends to the people close to you; sometimes you think Soonyoung and Seokmin are more excited about the baby than you are.

You’re about to ask if Jisoo is invited (because Jisoo is close with them through you, so she’s a part of the circle but not always) or if this is an exclusive gathering that Soonyoung has arranged just to bother you when a small voice squeals happily.

“Daisy!!!!” you turn in surprise at the voice, seeing Gyuri trying to get away from her dad’s arms as she tries to reach you. Your eyes find Mingyu and two guys behind him, looking at you curiously in a way that makes you a little too conscious. But your gaze refuses to leave Mingyu, already fit in his everyday clothes in contrast of his dress shirt and suit you’ve seen him in just a few hours ago. Instead, he’s wearing a simple navy bomber jacket with a black shirt hidden beneath it and a pair of black jeans covering his long legs. Have sneakers always looked that sophisticated?

Damn, doesn’t he look good in casual clothes. No one would’ve thought Gyuri is his child with the way he dresses and the friends with him; they’d probably assume she’s a sister or a niece. On another note, though, do handsome people only befriend handsome people?

“Miss you!!”

You haven’t got a chance to answer nor explain to your friends when another voice enters from the back of the small party. “Oh? What are you guys doing here?”

Soonyoung blinks at the sight of Seokmin, all sort of curses for not answering his call already on the tip of his tongue but Jihoon is quick to shut him up by jabbing his thigh with his elbow. He glares at his friend, but Jihoon has never been one to faze under Soonyoung’s glare.

“Hi Seokmin,” you decide to answer, addressing him with an awkward smile. “Soonyoung wants to try this place.”

And that’s how you end up joining their table in a private room with Jihoon and Soonyoung. Gyuri happily sits next to you in her baby chair and Mingyu on her other side. Jihoon is still next to you, but Soonyoung sits across him, and next to him is Seokmin, and then two guys called Minghao and Wonwoo. For reasons that you don’t know, there’s an empty seat reserved next to Mingyu.

Your answer comes fifteen minutes later when Seungcheol makes his way into the private room, blinking continuously at the two circles together in front of him as if he’s sure he sees wrong. He turns owlishly to you, and it’s Wonwoo who ushers him to sit and proceeds to tell him what happened.

“I would’ve brought Jisoo here if I knew,” he says, smiling cutely at Gyuri who greets him with a happy ‘Uncle Cherry!’.

The dinner goes smoothly after that, and even though Soonyoung’s a bit annoyed his plan to annoy you is basically cancelled, he’s happy to find new friends though he’s unsure if he’ll be able to mix well with these wealthy business men despite their close age.

“I didn’t know you hang out with Seungcheol outside?” you tell Seokmin in confusion. While Jisoo would often be included in your hangout because she’s practically a package deal with you, Seungcheol would sometimes join by Jisoo’s extension. Now that you think about it, Seungcheol would either stick with Jisoo or Seokmin when it comes to it.

“Did I never mention?” he grins sheepishly before he takes a bite of his salad. “Must’ve slipped my mind.”

It’s pretty plausible, if you’re being honest. You don’t really know about Seokmin and his ‘bigshot’ friends before this—he’s never even shown you pictures and none of you are ever curious; he’s only said he was a childhood friend with one of them and the friendship still lasts almost two decades later. You’d like to think the reason why you, Jihoon, Seokmin, and Soonyoung (even Jisoo) are able to be this close to each other is because none of you ever pries anything out of the other unless you deem it necessary for their sake.

A part of you wonders why he and Jisoo don’t seem to be close even though presumably they might have time to hang out together outside your circle, but you figure sometimes people simply hang out together without making a close bond with one another.

“Feels like I haven’t seen you in so long, man,” Seungcheol’s voice booms through the table, addressing Mingyu as he takes . “When was the last time I saw you? Exodus?”

You cough violently at the mention of the club, bringing attention to you as Gyuri’s little hand pats you on the arm. Jihoon looks at you in worry, telling you to drink slowly as his hand rubs your back. You mutter an apology to the table, excusing yourself to the restroom while you’re at it. Gyuri grabs your finger, asking to come with you. You don’t want to say no, but you dread having to look Mingyu in the eyes as the memory of that night stirs in you once again.

Daring to look at Mingyu for permission, the guy simply nods when you meet his eyes. You can’t read his expression, both because you quickly look away to take Gyuri in your arms and because his face isunreadable. It’s been sometime since you have to remind yourself once again that Mingyu doesn’t have any reason to bring it up and everything’s fine.

Gyuri happily sits on top of the marble sink as you splash some water to your face. She reaches out to play with the sink, trying to figure out how it works as the water turns on and off by itself.

“Okay, that’s enough playing, yeah?” you smile at her after your heart calms down. “Let’s go back?”

She readily jumps into your arms, finger already playing with your hair as you make your way back to the private room. Gyuri refuses to sit back on her baby chair, her grip on you gets tighter when you’re about to put her down, so you settle her on your lap which earns you a content babble from the little girl.

“I’m really sorry,” Mingyu says from beside you, having finally rid of the baby chair so he can move his chair right next to yours. Everyone’s practically done eating at this point, but no one seems to be in a hurry to leave as they converse with one another. “She’s always been touchy, but never this clingy with someone before.”

“Guess I’m special,” you manage to joke, though your heart is going wild at the way he’s caressing Gyuri’s head.

You don’t expect Mingyu to answer, but the guy nods in agreement, telling you that ‘yeah, you are,’ with a voice that’s only for you to hear. You tense a little at that, wondering if you heard wrong, but Mingyu’s already turning the other way around before you can ask about it.

Across you, Soonyoung and Seokmin are staring at you with something close to suspicion. You raise your eyebrow in question, but they just narrow their eyes as if you have any idea about what they’re questioning you about.

“What’s with your friends?” you ask Jihoon instead.

“You’ve been friends with them for years and you still question what’s with them?”

“You’ve got a point.”

“But, if you must know,” he leans closer to whisper. “They’re probably suspicious of your relationship with your boss.”

You let out a loud ‘What!’ before you even realize, making Gyuri jump a little in your arms. You mutter a quiet sorry, and Gyuri continues to draw patterns on your arm with her finger after mumbling ‘’ss okay’. Mingyu turns to ask if something’s up, and you reassure him that all is fine and you’re just overreacting. He doesn’t seem convinced, but he lets it go and returns to his conversation with Minghao about interior design.

“I mean,” Jihoon continues without missing a beat, subtly pointing at the kid on your lap. “Why did she call you Daisy and why did she say she misses you?”

Gyuri is blissfully unaware she’s being talked about, and she simply yawns before leaning her cheek on your chest, getting comfortable in your hold as she grips the material of your clothing.

You’re about to answer him when a phone is suddenly shoved in front of you, a very annoyed Jisoo on the screen and you can only assume it’s Seungcheol holding the phone from behind.

“Not fair!!!!” she pouts. “You’re ALL there without me?”

“Am here too,” Jihoon helpfully chirps from the side, only his eyes appearing on the screen. Soonyoung makes his appearance through voice only, telling Jisoo it sucks to be her.

“Wow,” she exclaims in disbelief, her face offended. “You told me only [Y/N] was there, Cheol!”

“Now, now,” you see him grin through the camera, his phone tilting down a little to show Gyuri on your lap. “Let’s not get angry with Lili present.”

Gyuri sleepily waves at the camera, melting whatever annoyance Jisoo has before. Jisoo promises to send her pudding one of these days, and the kid also makes her promise like Jennie did the other day. Mingyu chuckles at the banter, and then finally notices his kid falling asleep in your arms.

Jisoo sees you and Mingyu share a look then a smile before he takes Gyuri from your lap until Seungcheol moves the camera to himself again. He talks some more before eventually hangs up, telling her to have a good night and that he’ll text her once he’s arrived home.

She wonders if she was just imagining the fond look on your face when you’re looking at Mingyu.

Two weeks later, you find yourself getting ready for your business trip to Japan. More importantly, you find yourself falling more and more for Mingyu and Gyuri as time goes by and you’ve been reminding yourself to keep your feelings at bay—to not act upon it and you should take a step back from where you’re currently at. Your tendency to throw (hopefully) subtle flirty jokes at him and his nonchalant way of returning them needsto be stopped.

It’s getting increasingly scary: the way you and Mingyu have been getting more comfortable with each other. You try to trample down whatever hope that’s trying to bloom within you, but Mingyu would give you a playful wink or Gyuri would randomly make Jooyeon call you and there goes all your effort. The father and daughter pair aren’t hard to fall for and you don’t know how you are supposed to deal with this feeling.

Perhaps going on a business trip with Mingyu isn’t currently the best choice for your inner dilemma. Though it’s not like you have any other choices.

“What do you mean you’re going to Japan?” Jisoo demands from the sofa as you’re busy packing on the floor.

“I mean just that,” you roll your eyes. “Boss has a meeting there and the other secretary has already filed for the week off before this meeting was scheduled.”

“So it’s just you and Mingyu?” she frowns.

You turn to her in confusion, unsure why she’s annoyed. “Does your boss take other staffs that might not be needed for a meeting abroad?”

“So you’re there to be his secretary.”

“I am his secretary.”

Your friend stays silent at that, and you give her a pointed look that asks for explanation. When she still doesn’t say anything, you huff and sit next to her to probe further.

“Do you… like Mingyu?” she carefully starts.

“Of course I do,” you reply without hesitation, surprising her. But your next words make her shoulders drop unceremoniously. “He’s a pretty good boss. Even more when compared to my old ones.”

She scratches her arm, hoping you won’t get defensive. “I mean… romantically. Are you interested in him?”

“Where does this even come from?” when Jisoo doesn’t answer, you track back to any moment that might lead to this question until you remember the video call from that night. “Is it because Lili was on my lap?”

Your friend exhales a deep breath. You’re not sure why Jisoo is this anxious, but she grasps your hands and you recognize the look on her face, it’s one she gives you when she’s concerned about something to the point where the worry is eating her inside out.

“Are you?” she asks once more and you know you can’t lie to her face, can’t say no like you mean it, not when her voice is gentle and her eyes are full of worry. She knows you too well, you’d like to say. She knows how hard it is for you to be interested in someone, and she also knows you tend to fall hard once you do. Whatever concern that fills her is probably valid and you know you should be worried too.

“I don’t know, Soo,” you truthfully say. Perhaps you’re still in denial, refusing to acknowledge that you’ve been unknowingly staring at Mingyu with longing looks and the way your heart would run faster at the sight of his smile. But admitting it feels like a commitment itself and you’d rather not go down that road. “He… I’ve always been attracted to him, I’ll give you that. But I don’t know if I’m that invested yet. It’s probably just a crush. It’ll pass.”

Your voice is a little too small for her liking, you sound so defeated and it’s not something that sits well with Jisoo.

“I’m not… trying to get you to forget him,” she starts. The small smile on her face is there to remind you about her well-meaning concern. “I know how you don’t date just for the sake of it, and I know how hard it is for you to even be interested in someone. It’s been sometimes too, right? But… you know he has Gyuri and I hope you’re prepared for what you’re getting into. This is more than the usual commitment between two people.”

It goes pass your mind how Jisoo doesn’t say anything about Mingyu’s family, as the mention of Gyuri brings an automatic smile to your face. Jisoo doesn’t miss this, but doesn’t have it in her to bring it up right now because she knows you’ll get defensive.

It was just two days ago that Mingyu had called you out of nowhere, apologizing the moment you picked up the call because Gyuri had been wanting to talk to you and it's getting harder to convince her you’re busy. You spent a good ten minutes talking to Gyuri until she’s satisfied and eventually agreed to hang up the phone.

You found yourself biting your lip until it almost bled until it’s one in the morning, Mingyu’s low voice whispering ‘good night’ ringing in your mind.

“There’s no… commitment, Soo. You don’t have to worry. I’m sure Mingyu’s not into me that way.”

You know Jisoo is about to convince you otherwise, that you’re a very great person and Mingyu would be lucky to be with you, but you don’t want to hear it so you stand back up to end the conversation there and continue packing.

Mingyu’s way out of your reach and you might not even work here anymore after Jennie’s back.

You’ll get over it.

taglist: @yslshua @penny-quinn @nollixtrml @dnylwoo @itsveronicaxxx @john-and-paul @wheeinz @rjsmochii

@w0nuuu @boowanie @n6body @imtotallydef @wwssi @bythe8 @cheolright @coupsiekkuma @hoe4wonwoo

@kyeomjjigae @jh-fn @clairdelunesstuff @yoongischeeksluv @onlywonforhui @janandbeyond @treasure-hwa @teddy-cheol

@tito-jun @projectjuvia @notscoupy @jeonshuawreads @cheoriemoawa @wtfkidult

A/N: am sorry but some accs can't be mentioned for some reason D:

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenario #seventeen imagine #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #svt fic #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #mingyu angst #mingyu x reader #my daisy masterlist #svt fluff #mingyu au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen au

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dsmutp · 3 years

Note

hehe now that i have gotten your consent- (i have 2 ideas for both sub and dom reader but that's for another story anyways so-) basically, c!eret gets jealous because whenever they're walking around with reader, reader gets distracted by something or dragged away by someone else, basically not giving him all the attention he wants. So he has enough of it and randomly drags the reader away(hold up i'm losing space here-😀)

gotchu fam <3

Another One of Those Days (C! Eret X Reader)

Being a king was no small feat. It wasn't all classy parties and fur lined capes - it also meant actually running a nation. And the SMP was no small nation. There were disputes to be settled and laws to be upheld, and at the end of the day, all of that responsibility fell to the king.

You were a little biased, but you thought Eret was doing a pretty good job of handling an entire kingdom. For the king of the entire SMP - a nation torn apart by wars on a regular basis - he wasn't doing half bad. Even war torn, Eret had the SMP as one of the most stable places to live. He did it all with a smile on his face, too.

Of course, he wasn't doing it entirely alone.

You were a something of a helping hand when it came to making sure the kingdom ran smoothly, being Eret's spouse. While he handled the most important parts of running a kingdom, you did a lot of the smaller things. Things like managing the palace staff, and handling smaller disputes (things like property line disagreements and civil arguments). It wasn't much, on the large scheme of things, but some days it could get pretty hectic.

Like today, for instance.

Since you had woken up this morning, you had been running around the palace all day. It seemed like the whole universe needed your attention - something had happened down in the kitchens during breakfast (meaning you'd had to cut your morning meal with Eret short), and the civil disagreement you were supposed to resolve today ended up stretching on for hours (meaning you weren't able to catch Eret after his morning council meeting) and then just as things had been calming down, someone had broken a stained glass window in the west wing (meaning you'd had to skip dinner entirely, and ended up just sneaking a few slices of sourdough from the kitchens).

Needless to say, you were exhausted, and you missed your husband.

Luckily for you, the sun had sunk behind the trees, the day was over, and he would be waiting for you in bed.

You finished off your sourdough dinner substitute as you approached the door of your shared bedroom, opening it up as quietly as you could and slipping inside. You didn't want to disturb him if he was asleep, as you were sure he'd had a hard day as well...

But no, Eret was very much awake, and waiting for you on the edge of the bed.

He had taken off most of his kingly attire - the long red cape usually found draped over his shoulder was folded over one of the armchairs on the other side of the room, and the crown was in it's proper place on it's shelf. Now, Eret's hair hung loose in his face, and his white silk shirt lay unbuttoned across his chest.

"Hello dear." He greeted in a low rumble, a smile coming over his face. "I missed you today."

You melted, taking his hand as he reached out for you, pulling you into his lap. Your head found it's place tucked underneath his jaw, and you wound your arms around his middle, sighing deep in your chest. "Hello love."

"You seem tired." Eret noted, stroking a hand through your hair. "Long day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." You grumbled. "I don't think I've had such a busy day since before we got married." You nuzzled into him more, letting your eyes drift shut. "It's better now though."

You could feel Eret's chuckle bubble up in his chest. "I'm sorry we didn't get to take our usual breaks today." He said. "Perhaps I can make up for the lost time now?"

Your eyes opened back up at the suggestive tone in his voice, and you pulled back a bit so you could meet his eyes. "Oh?"

"If you're feeling up to it, of course." He said. "I just thought maybe it would help you relax, blow off some steam, if you will." His hand found it's way down to your thigh, kneading the flesh gently.

Goosebumps rose from your skin at the touch. "That would be very nice." You said.

A grin stretched across Eret's face as he shifted, letting you get out of his lap. "Put on something nice for me, won't you? I missed seeing you today."

---

It couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour later that you found your wrists bound to the headboard of the four poster bed you shared with Eret, your lingerie clad body spread over the sheets like a lewd painting. You tugged at the silk tie binding your wrists - one of Eret's many sashes. He'd worn this one to a few banquets before, a lovely deep purple color.

Now, the fabric only accented your skin as you lay in wait for him.

Eret stood at the foot of the bed, slowly shrugging the shirt off his shoulders, letting the fabric slide down over his back. He always liked to put on something of a show for you - and you were always appreciative.

Eret's eyes found you as he unbuttoned his pants, letting his trousers pool at his feet as he stepped out of them. In only his boxers, he climbed onto the bed, propping himself up beside you to run a hand down your body, toying with the fabric of the lingerie you had picked out.

"You look delectable darling." He said, playing with the fabric of your outfit. The action caused goosebumps to rise over your skin where his fingers just barely brushed across. "I love it when you wear this one."

"Well, you said you'd missed me." You responded, pulling against your ties to crane your neck forward. Eret indulged you, leaning down to press his lips to yours, wasting no time in opening the kiss. Eret stopped playing with your outfit and instead started removing it, exposing your bottom half.

He pulled away to toss the piece of the outfit away, throwing it towards the pile of his own clothes on the floor. A shiver ran up your spine as Eret's eyes drifted down your body - he looked like he wanted to eat you.

And he did.

You jerked against the ties as Eret put his mouth on you, his hands sliding upwards to grip around your hips, holding them down to the bed so you couldn't squirm away from the heat of pleasure. A moan escaped your throat as Eret licked around your hole, sliding a finger in.

Involuntarily, your hips jerked up, only for Eret to press back down, stopping you from moving too much. You ached to touch him, but you were still secured to the headboard. There was something tantalizing about being completely at his mercy though.

Another finger slid in, beginning to stretch you open as Eret kept up his ministrations. Your breathing picked up as the warm tingly feeling spread over the rest of your body. Eret never disappointed - not when he put his mouth to good use.

You weren't even surprised when your orgasm washed over you. Even when he was just prepping you, Eret was a generous lover.

He pulled back as you came back down to earth, shedding his boxers. His cock stood at full attention - red no doubt from where he had had it pressed against the mattress while he'd spoken a royal decree into your skin.

"Good?" He asked, bringing a hand up to wipe his chin off.

"Wonderful." You said, catching your breath. Eret's hands off your hips now, you angled them up. "In please?"

Eret smiled, one hand coming up to card through your hair. "Right."

One of Eret's hands came to rest on your hip, the other coming to rest on the bedsheets beside you, holding himself up so that he could slide into you. You tipped your head back, savoring the stretch as Eret sucked in a breath.

You began to roll your hips, not giving Eret a moment to adjust. He leaned down, choking on a groan as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. You sighed as he began to press kisses up your jaw, sucking little bruises against the skin.

"I missed you." He said, picking up the pace as he rolled his hips. "Even though it was just a day, I missed you."

"Needy." You tsked, meeting every thrust.

"You like that though." Eret said, voice tipping into something breathier. You could tell he was nearing his peak now, and you were beginning to reach a second - it would be easier for him to tip you over the edge now that he had done it once before.

All it took was a particularly rough thrust for you to be unraveling for a second time around him, Eret following you over the edge.

He collapsed against you, pillowing his head into your chest. You took a moment to catch your breath, just letting the feeling settle into you.

"Feeling better?" Eret asked, voice muffled as he spoke right into your skin.

"Much." You said. "You know what would make it better though?"

"Hm?"

"If you untied me so I could cuddle you to sleep."

#dream smp x reader #dream smp smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #eret smut #eret x reader

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 3 years

Text

A Pure Soul (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!Autistic!reader)

Summary: Two weeks or so after Wanda arrives at the Avengers’ Place, (y/n) shows up. An autistic Avenger who’s extremely honest and who doesn’t really seem to mind just being by themself, but also is kind and even affectionate to others. Wanda’s smitten by this and does the unthinkable.

Request?: Nope. I’m literally just throwing this out of the back of my head. From the Yandere Starter Prompts list by @yandere-mccree

Prompt: 5. “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”

Warnings: (AOU Spoilers, CACW spoilers, IW spoilers, Endgame spoilers, torture sorta, sleep paralysis mention, ableism, slight manipulation?, kidnapping, mind-breaking mention)

Note: I wanted to try a bit more of a subtle Yandere vibe for Wanda. I’ve never really written one of these, so it might not be as great as I hoped. I don’t encourage or condone the unhealthy aspects.

Word Count: 3,268

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It’s only been a couple of weeks or so after she’d been taken from Sokovia after it was destroyed. Wanda’s still mourning the loss of her brother when you arrive. You're a shy person, not a fan of eye contact, but you do like touch, hugs in particular, as well as head pets.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to you much at first. You’re just another Avenger to her; a nice change of pace, but that’s all. But then comes Lagos. Wanda now has guilt along with so much trauma. It’s no surprise when you hear her crying in her room one day, the door somehow left open a crack.

“I’m a terrible person,” she says softly, thinking no one heard.

You peek in and catch her with a pillow to her face, weeping. Your heart breaks. You know it’s on her, but she clearly feels terrible. You stand in the doorway until she soon notices you.

“Oh....(y/n),” she says as casually as she can. “Hey.”

“You’re not a terrible person,” you tell her.

She’s shocked to hear this.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

You shake your head.

“Why would I be?”

“I’m too destructive,” she says, sniffling. “You saw what happened in Lagos.”

You enter your room and sit on her bed with her.

“But you’re also very kind,” you point out. “And you’re a good person. You clearly care when you hurt others, and you want to rectify your mistakes. A bad person wouldn’t do that.”

In that moment, you can sense her need for some physical contact. You lean over and give her a hug, rubbing her back.

“I’m glad you’re here, Wanda,” you tell her.

And you are. You truly are. Even if you don’t know her well, you’ve heard her talk a few times, and she’s a breath of fresh air. Most of the Avengers tend to be a bit loud and sometimes a bit insensitive, but not Wanda. Wanda’s extremely sensitive to others’ feelings and tends to be a quiet person. It’s something you need. Her accent is also soothing to you for some reason, not to mention she’s beautiful.

You let her cry on your shoulder for a few hours, even humming to her a bit. Then it’s dinnertime and you’re called to the kitchen. That’s when something in Wanda changes. You, an Avenger who barely knows her, aren’t afraid of her; in fact, you’re glad that she’s here. She also doesn’t know you all that well, but she’s seen some acts of kindness you’ve done for her and the other Avengers, even when you thought no one was watching. And she heard your thoughts when you were hugging her, all wonderful things about her, how you wish she could see how amazing she is, how beautiful she is.

At that moment, her heart melts. How can someone with such a sweet and pure soul like you exist? How could someone so....perfect exist? It’s a ray of sunshine in her heart, making her forget about the guilt and trauma, even if only for a few moments. Your presence is exactly what she needs. And she needs more of it.....

===================================

At first it starts off simple and small; making an effort to see you more often, running into you in the compound, smiling at you, making conversation. And honestly, there’s something about Wanda you can’t quite shake off. She does make your heart flutter; sometimes you get shy around her or even blush. It’s adorable and it’s something that only makes her more fond of you.

She discovers you’re autistic when the lights of the compound are too bright one time. The second she notices how anxious you are after Tony turns on the lights before getting his coffee in the other room, she immediately turns them down for you, and she’s the first person you tell.

“I’m touched that you trust me enough to confess this,” she tells you with a few tears in your eyes.

Wanda asks you what other things you like or dislike, things that give you sensory overload and things that help you calm down. She asks you about your experiences as an autistic person. You’re touched by how considerate she is, and even confess to her about your ADD, or Inattentive ADHD, as they call it now. She also asks about that, but does her best to take it a little at a time so that you’re not overwhelmed with questions.

What you don’t know is that she already knows all of this, having telepathy and all; she wants to hear it from you so that it doesn’t come off as creepy. She also loves to hear your voice. It’s like music to her ears, music that eases her stresses and trauma, even if only temporarily.

Then she starts to make some more effort, actively implementing what she knows and paying attention to things you say and do, so that she knows what she can do or say without it being suspicious. Wanda wants the relationship to move as naturally as possible. You’re her precious angel, and she doesn’t want to scare you. And she won’t unless it’s inevitable or of absolute necessity.

Wanda buys a bunch of fidgets and other sensory things for you to try, keeping in mind what you’ve told her. But also throwing in some “close guesses,” meaning things she knows but that you haven’t told her, things close to what you’ve told her. She can easily pass it off as just “having a hunch,” as long as it doesn’t happen too often.

Though she wants it to be as natural as possible, she occasionally uses her powers on you; nothing too severe at first. Just sending little suggestions to your mind; she’s told you a few of her favorite things, so she’ll base those suggestions off of that. One of the first suggestions is why not ask her how to make paprikash? She suggests that the two of you make it together and you agree. You’re not big on spice, but there’s some sweet paprika as a substitute. And it’s not as spicy as you think, but it’s delicious.

Sometimes Wanda sends a suggestion to get you going on a rant on one of your Special Interests; it’s both a chance for her to “get to know you more,” but mostly because she adores hearing you speak about what you love; she especially loves seeing that twinkle in your eyes and she loves seeing your face light up. It’s one of the most precious things to her, seeing you so happy. She wants to cherish every single second of it.

Though you’re nervous about it, suggestions of humming or singing to her pop into your mind. You give into them fairly often, mostly later on in the relationship. She tells you about how beautiful your voice really is, which gets you shy and blushing. It’s so endearing to her, seeing her sweet little sunbeam being so cute without even trying.

When you come back from a battle, Wanda checks to make sure you’re okay as soon as possible. She volunteers to patch you up to the best of her ability, and she soon becomes the person you first think of when you need first aid or care after a battle.

Then Wanda decides to take it a little further; her room in the compound is next to yours. She stands outside of your door, waiting for you to go to sleep, before opening the door a tad and sending in sweet dreams. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s seeing her sweet little angel upset, and this assures that it won’t happen.

Next she sends little dreams with her in it; first only small appearances, but then she becomes apparent little by little until she ends up being the focus of many of them. Of course she’ll throw in miscellaneous dreams here and there, just to make sure you don’t get suspicious.

Then comes Wanda’s biggest suggestion to you; you two have gotten so close over the past few months, why not ask her to be your girlfriend? It only makes sense. You still feel those butterflies in your stomach, you two both have amazing chemistry, and you both are very close. At this point, you don’t question it. You’re just nervous to ask, as you’ve never been in a relationship before. Of course the nervousness is also slightly part of the suggestion, more on a subconscious level. It’s not enough to make you panic; just enough to make you shy when asking her. And of course, you are. You end up stammering a little, blushing a bit. She fondly assures you that it’s okay to feel this nervousness, and happily accepts being your girlfriend.

===============================

Now that you two are a couple, her next suggestion for you is to give into those affectionate feelings you have when cuddling with her. She loves the warmth you bring. Wanda didn’t think you could get any cuter, and yet she’s a full-on puddle when you cuddle with her. You’re just so sweet and Wanda can’t help but feel protective over you.

Others begin to notice you opening up more and they start making conversation with you. Of course Wanda’s listening to their thoughts to make sure they’re not interested in going further than a friendship with you. Friends are okay for her, and she’s very excited inside when you make a new friend, as she knows that making friends doesn’t exactly come naturally to you. However if it ever gets to anything past that, she’d have to take action. One does express interest in you, and that doesn’t sit well with Wanda. This person doesn’t deserve such a sweet angel, let alone her sweet little angel. Something must be done.

That night, after sending you sweet dreams, she sneaks over to their place and hides just outside of their bedroom door. She’s able to track their brain activity, so she knows when they’ve gone to sleep. Once they do, she sends them their worst nightmares, ones that paralyze them in their sleep out of fear. The next day, you don’t see them at their usual time. You figure maybe they’re sick or they overslept. In the meantime, she’s there to keep you company. It happens on and off with them for some odd reason.

If it’s one of the Avengers taking an interest in you, Wanda ensures that the two of you don’t get too close. If you go on a mission and need a partner, Wanda steps up. It’s not really a surprise to them, with her being your girlfriend and all. She glares at the Avenger who’s showing interest, letting them know to stay back.

=========================================

And then shit hits the fan.

You come back to the compound in tears one night and Wanda’s the first one at your side.

“(Y/N), what happened?” she asks worried.

You tell her about how you ran into someone who said that autism is a disease that needs to be cured and that you shouldn’t exist because you’re a burden on society. Wanda doesn’t leave your side that night. You need someone there for you. Externally she’s supportive and loving. But internally, she’s both heartbroken and fuming as she looks through the memory. A fire storms inside of her. How dare they tell such a sweet and pure soul like you that they’re a burden! How dare they say her sweet angel has a disease that needs to be cured! Wanda knows that autism has its challenges, but also its upsides. It’s not anything that needs a cure. It’s a part of your identity. She will NOT let this slide. Not even a little.

After cuddling with you, and sending extra-special sweet dreams that night, Wanda finds the place of the person who told you this. Wanda sneaks into their bedroom and induces their worst nightmares, along with a dose of sleep paralysis. She uses her telekinesis to throw objects around the room and even at them. She uses her power to make them choke. Her grief and anger only amplifies the severity. It’s satisfying to her to hear them scream, plead, beg for mercy, to see them so helpless, knowing what they said to her precious angel. She keeps doing this to them until they’re completely broken, even going back multiple nights, just to make sure they’re gone for good.

You don’t hear from them until you find out that they’ve become completely catatonic. Part of you still feels bad for them for some reason, but you don’t know why.

“You have nothing to feel bad about, (Y/N),” Wanda assures you when you bring this up with her. “Their guilt probably just got the best of them. C’mon, how about we get some lunch together?”

Wanda’s got your back and more for the next few days. And then Tony locks her in her room, and you’re infuriated. He just sees her as a weapon and not a person. In spite of their attempts to convince you to come along on missions, you decide to stay back and keep Wanda company, to make her confinement more bearable.

The two of you both fight Tony together, end up in the Raft, and escape together, living away from the compound. Then comes the war. You’re the one dusted and Wanda survives. Those five years without you are hell to her. She spirals back into grief, guilt, and trauma, blaming herself for not being able to save you. Thank God for Bruce Banner. In 2023, he brings you back. The second Wanda finds this out, she rushes for you, her eyes filled with tears, and you’re just as relieved to see her. Your warmth sparks a sense of purpose back into her. After you died and were brought back to life, to her you’re truly an angel now, and she refuses to let an angel be harmed. She’s reluctant to let you fight, but she tells you as long as you stay by her, it should be fine.

Tony sacrifices himself to save you all from Thanos. The second the funeral is over, you decide to take a nap. Wanda gently grabs you and takes you to a remote location; a cottage in the middle of the woods on an island. Those five years without you and then suddenly having you back sent her protective instincts into overdrive. She decides that she can’t let anyone or anything hurt you anymore. She’s lost her parents and her brother. She can’t lose you. She won’t lose you.

When you come to, you’re shocked about where you are.

“H-huh?”

Sitting up you begin to panic when you hear a familiar voice.

“Good! You’re awake.”

The smell of paprika hits your nose as you see her face, a sweet smile upon it.

“W-wanda?”

She brings over a plate of chicken paprikash.

“What do you think, (y/n)?” she asks.

“Of what?”

She gives a little giggle.

“Of our new home, of course.”

Your heart jumps in your chest.

“New home?”

Wanda sets down the food on a nearby table, and sits next to you on the bed you’ve been placed in.

“(Y/N), I.....those past five years....”

“Must’ve been horrific,” you say, still in shock.

She nods.

“And I wish I could’ve saved you.”

She gently takes ahold of your hands.

“And now that you’re back....I’m scared to lose you. I want us to be together forever.”

Your face flushes, and you glance away. She giggles a little and gently guides your face back up to her.

“My sweet (y/n), you’re too adorable,” she tells you.

Your eyes meet the bridge of her nose, and she doesn’t make you look at her eyes. She knows eye contact can be hell for you.

“I’ve missed this energy so much; I’ve missed your kind-hearted nature, your beautiful voice, your wide and innocent eyes, that cute little button nose, you cuddling up close to me. I’ve set everything in this cottage up just for you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible here.”

“Where exactly are we, though?” you ask.

“Somewhere where you’ll never be hurt again. I’ll ensure that.”

This set off a slight red flag, and you panic a little.

“We couldn’t have just moved to a house in the suburbs or maybe a house in Greece?”

She shakes her head as she pets yours, something that absolutely gives you butterflies.

“No. This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, sweet (y/n). You have such a pure soul-you are a pure soul-and the world outside will only hurt you. Sweet and innocent people, especially at your age, are very rare. They’re like diamonds; real diamonds. They’re extremely difficult to find, but once you do, they’re a treasure that needs to be protected. I want to be that for you. I want to protect you, keep you safe, love you and care for you. This cottage, this island, it can become a whole new world. At least give it a try? For me? Please?”

You want to say no, right? You’re not sure. It feels like something inside of you is at war, but one side is winning. Wanda’s clearly relieved to have you, and you’ve loved her for a long time now as she’s loved you for a long time now. You feel comfortable around her too. Perhaps a little protection might not be the worst idea. At the very least, a trial run wouldn’t hurt.

You nod.

“Okay, I’ll give it a go.”

Wanda hugs you close and gives you a small peck on the cheek.

“Thank you, my sweet (y/n)! Thank you.”

The two of you have dinner together and then watch a few sitcoms before you cuddle up in bed as Wanda softly sings you a Sokovian lullaby, your head lying near her shoulder. As you drift off to sleep, Wanda watches you endearingly. What you don’t know is that you’re going to enjoy being here. She’d love it if it’s on your own terms, but if you start to seem distant, she won’t hesitate to use her magic to send some suggestions. Maybe it’s to prompt you to ask her to include or remove or change something, or even to enhance your joy for the little things. Extreme worst-case scenario? She’ll plague you with a few nightmares, ones that’ll show you how dangerous the outside world is without her, but it will pain her to do so. Expect a lot of cuddling and kisses from her when you wake up in tears in the hopes of making things better. And she makes sure they do. All she wants is for you to stay and be happy and safe with her.

And even if you wanted to leave, it’s doubtful that even with your powers, you’ll get past the barrier Wanda’s put up. It’s doubtful that you’ll even get that far. It’s a big island after all. Big and deserted. She wants to give you enough space, but not too much. Just enough to make you happy. If you somehow find it, Wanda will make sure you’ll forget finding it. She’ll fill in the gaps with something else so that it doesn’t seem suspicious. It’s not surprising that she knows how to deal with so many outcomes; she’s had five years to think it over, after all, just in case you came back.

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is that she has you, her precious angel, and you’ll be hers forever one way or the other.

#yandere marvel #marvel #yandere!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x autistic!reader #yandere!wanda maximoff #yandere avengers #Avengers #scarlet witch #yandere!scarlet witch #yandere x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #autistic fanfics #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader

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holylulusworld · 3 years

Text

Her substitute (5) - Baby Girl

Summary: Once you were her best friend. Now her widower seeks shelter in your arms.

Square Filled: Free Space for @walker-bingo

Ship: Cordell Walker x fem!Reader, Cordell Walker x Emily Walker (widowed)

Characters: Bonham Walker, Stella Walker, August Walker, Abeline Walker

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of a loved one, remorse, idiots in love, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Walker, creampie, marking kink, marking, fluff

Word Count: 1,7 k

Her substitute masterlist

2021 Walker Bingo masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics

<< Part 4

“...and even now, I think about him and his fucking hands.”

“Baby Girl,” pinned to the wall right next to the entrance of his house you ask yourself if it was the right decision to cave in once again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, missed this pussy.”

“Cord,” while Cordell grips your ass tighter to pump up into you like a madman, you try to hold tight onto his shoulders. “Maybe we should go to the bedroom. What if someone sees us?”

“The kids are at my parent’s place,” he buries his face in your neck, groans deeply when you wrap your legs tighter around his waistline. “No one is going to disturb me while I destroy this cunt.”

“That’s not funny,” you pant, laughing when Cordell lifts his head to meet your eyes. “I don’t want anyone to see me—I mean, my naked ass.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” capturing your lips in a heated kiss Cordell takes your breath away. “No one is going to see you like this but me. No one.” He emphases his words with a particularly hard thrust. “But I can pin you to my bed later if you want me to.”

“Self-confident much, Mr. Walker,” you grin up at Cordell. “What if I will go after you made me cum?” he growls at your words, pushing even harder into you. He rocks your body, forces you to wrap your arms around his neck to hold tight onto him.

“I will use my handcuffs and keep you locked away in my bedroom. No more New York, no more leaving me,” he captures your lips in a hasty kiss, breathes praises and your name against your lips. “Baby girl,” he says breathlessly, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed your stubborn ass too,” he grabs your ass harder, holds you against the wall with all his strength. The muscles in his arms strain and fuck, the veins in his neck pop out, “and your dick.”

“Fuck, Cordell!” you whimper with every harsh thrust. “What has gotten into you?” round two at the bedroom is much rougher than before.

Your hands restrained to his headboard with his handcuffs, legs over his shoulders, and your ass in a tight grip he pumps into you.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he slams into you, mercilessly jerking his hips into yours. “You’ll never take another cock. I’m the only man you can fuck.”

“If you keep on going like that, you’ll destroy my pussy,” tugging at the handcuffs holding you to the headboard you groan. “I will have bruises when you are done.”

“I’ll mark this body with my cock, hands, and teeth. You will wear my marks with pride and tell everyone it was me fucking you good,” Cordell squeezes your ass tightly. He smirks darkly, knowing you are close to falling apart. “I want you to cum all over me.”

“I-I’m on it,” sweat runs down your body, your muscles ache, and to be honest, you feel like you ran a marathon. “After that round, I need a break.”

“Aw, is my baby girl tired?” the sound of your slicked cunt taking his cock in fills the room and you pray, no one can hear your desperate wails when he tilts his hips to brush over your g-spot. “You are meant to take my dick. I will never not fill this cunt.”

“I—” a strangled cry is all you give Cordell in return when your cunt tightens around his length. His balls tighten and you can feel his cum shoot into your abused sex. He groans your name, hips jerking uncontrollably to pump every droplet into you. “Fuck, did you forget a condom?”

“No—” he drops your legs to cover your body, lips claiming yours in a dirty kiss. “I’ll cum inside of you anytime I want to from now on. You’re my girl.”

“You made a mess,” sighing you look down your body. “I’m sweaty, sore and now my thighs and pussy are sticky too.”

“Felt so good,” Cordell buries his face in your neck, kissing your skin softly. “I’ve missed this, missed you. I’ll never let you go again.”

“Do you want to keep me here, restrained to your bed?” you challenge. “I’m not against having you on top of me, but you’re heavy and I need a shower.”

“Just a minute,” he opens the handcuffs, thumbs gently caressing your wrists. “How about we stay like this a few more minutes and I’ll clean you in the bathtub.”

“I thought—” you close your eyes when Cordell wraps his arms around your weak body. “Okay.” You don’t say what’s on your mind.

“I know you believed I want you to go now, Y/N,” kissing your neck again Cordell sighs. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I was a fool for letting you go. I should’ve begged you to stay with me. It’s just, I felt like the worst person ever for seducing my wife’s best friend.”

“Can we have that shower now?” you sniffle, hiding you felt guilty every time you had sex with Cordell.

“Just one more minute, Y/N,” he whispers against your skin. “Let me hold you for a while. I need this, need you.”

“That’s a great bathtub,” you stretch your legs, smirking when Cordell runs his large hands over your breasts. “No touching, Sir.”

“Hey, that’s my bathtub, lady. You jumped into my bathtub and settled between my legs. Now your back is pressed against my chest and your ass rubs against my dick. If I share my water with you, I want to touch your tits.”

“Jesus don’t tell me you are hard again,” leaning back against his chest you sigh. “I can’t go again. I will be sore as hell, Cordell.”

He slowly runs a loofah over your skin, wondering if he should tell you what weighs heavy on his heart. “Baby—no Y/N,” he clears his throat. “I wanted to tell you. No, I must tell you that you mean the world to me.”

“That was cheesy, Mr. Walker,” you close your eyes to relax in Cordell’s arms. “Maybe I like you too.”

“You’re a brat only to be a brat,” he grumbles behind you. “I—fuck, baby girl. This is hard. No, it’s easy but I’m awful at talking about feelings. You know I loved Emily with all my heart, and a part of my heart will always belong to her, but if you want to have the rest of my heart it’s yours.”

“Dude,” turning around in his embrace you lie on his chest. You grin up at Cordell, searching his face while you try to tame your wildly beating heart. “Did your dad write a speech for you?”

His cheeks turn pink, and you know, Bonham did write a speech for his son.

“What I tried to tell you is,” he hesitates, simply looks down at you on his chest. “I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, big dummy,” pressing your forehead into his shoulder you sigh. “But I can’t do this anymore. If you want to use my body and roll off seconds later to leave me alone in my cold bed, I’m out.”

“This is over, Y/N,” he whispers, ashamed he treated you badly. “Emily would be ashamed I treated her best friend as a warm body I can use to feel better. I promise to be a good partner, boyfriend, and lover from now on.”

“Y/N,” Stella grasps for your hand to drag you toward her grandparents’ house. “So, will you stay or go back to New York? Did dad apologize? Do you still like him? Wait, he held a speech right?”

“Stella, let the poor girl breathe,” Bonham chuckles. His eyes drift toward his son awkwardly stand behind you and his daughter. “Did you hold a speech, son?”

“He did the whole thing, Bonham. Next time, add roses and sweets,” you give Bonham a wink. “Now, what do we eat tonight?”

“I know what I’d like to eat,” Cordell whispers, eyes drifting toward you.

“What did you say, Cordell?” Abeline asks, searching her son’s face. “We are having your favorite. Come in and help me prepare the dishes…”

“I have to announce something,” Cordell suddenly gets up from his chair to look around the table. “I’m glad everyone is here tonight. Firstly, I need to make sure you all know I will always love Emily, my wife,” he looks at his parents, nodding at his father, “and the mother of my children,” his eyes drift toward Stella and August. He sniffs, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Dad, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stella asks, watching you squirm on your seat. “Please stop making me nervous.”

“I—you see,” your partner grasps for your hand to squeeze it tightly. “I love Y/N,” he finally brings out. “I know this is sudden but, I want everyone to know she’s the woman I want in my life.”

“Cordell, son,” Bonham smirks, “we already knew you are in love with Y/N. Watching you pine over your partner was tragic and painful. I’m glad you manned up.”

“When will she move in with us?” Stella blurs out, looking at you. “Right! You will move in! We can have girls nights and talk trash about dad and boys. Oh, we can paint our nails pink.”

“Stella, calm down,” August snickers. “I’m sure Y/N will move in when she’s ready.” Cordell quirks a brow, wondering when his son became a man. “Now let’s have dessert.”

“No, I want to know when Y/N moves in! Her apartment is small, and she can sleep in dad’s bedroom every night if she moves in. I mean, there will be adult noises and I do not like imaging my dad—” shuddering Stella looks at you, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Please…”

“Y/N, would you give me the honor and move in with me and my demanding daughter? August is easy to handle and you’ll barely recognize he’s around,” Cordell smirks when you nod silently. “See, it’s settled. Now let’s eat…”

Three months later you moved in with Cordell and his family. Giving your best friend’s husband and his family new hope and someone to lean on.

…and you gave yourself a loving boyfriend and two wonderful children you will love to raise with Cordell…

Walker Tags

@mimzy1994, @rach-12, @jaredpadaleckisbride, @jessiebean00

----------------

All works Tags

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#Her substitute (5) - Baby Girl #walkerbingo #walker fanfic #cordell walker #cordell x reader #cordell walker x reader #cordell walker fanfiction #cordell walker x fem!reader #smut #fluff

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

shut in [7]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, broken bone, origami and paper planes

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!!! ONE MORE WEEK !!!!!!!! also gif is somewhat related except steve isn’t there sorry to crush any hopes

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Is there a reason you’re back so early?”

Both of the men nervously glanced at each other, silently urging the other to talk. A quiet form of encouragement.

“We chec- we checked all the neighbouring towns. All your safehouses,” one of them finally sputtered up after his partner elbowed him in the ribs.

“And?”

“We coordinated with all our guys across the country to look for them-”

“All I’m hearing are a bunch of excuses,” they twirled the gun on its barrel like it was a plaything. “Get to the point.”

“No one knows where they’re hiding,” he finished, swallowing thickly. “We’re still looking though. We just thought-”

“What?” their voice was surprisingly calm. “That your little status update would impress me? That I’d feel sorry for you for working so hard?”

“N-no boss,” his partner finally pitched in, saving face for his companion who opened and shut his mouth wordlessly. “Just keeping you in the loop. We’re close, I can feel-”

“Do you remember what I told you the last time you were here?”

Both of them shut their mouths immediately. Knuckles white, nails digging into their skin as they clenched their fists shut.

“That you wanted them dead,” the first one said with faux confidence. A waver in his voice gave it away.

“Yes, but you’re forgetting the important part,” they tsk’ed, shaking their head, eyes downcast.

They didn’t give anyone a chance to react. They slammed the gun down, swiftly picking it up before taking aim at his partner’s face.

“I said I’d blow your brains out.” They pulled the trigger.

Bits of bone fragment and blood splattered across the first agent’s face. He inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling haphazardly. He had his eyes shut tightly, face away from the carcass slumped over next to him..

“I want every fucking part of this country searched,” they roared, throwing the gun to the side carelessly, leaving someone else to scurry after it. “And since it’s so fucking hard for you to finish two tasks, just get me their location.”

The agent barely nodded, looking like he was about to throw up. His partner’s blood trailed down the side of his face like sweat.

“I’ll kill them myself.”

Hugh Grant was starting to look less appealing on your 6th rewatch of Notting Hill. In fact, he was starting to blend together with the characters from Die Hard and it was becoming difficult to differentiate which part belonged to which movie.

Sam sat opposite to you at the dining table, a set of papers assigned in front of him. The TV was left on, serving as background noise and occasional fillers to substitute the lack of conversation.

“That movie is not making sense anymore,” he stated objectively.

“It stopped after the third time for me.” Your words were hushed, your focus remaining on the swan you were trying to create from scratch.

“If I hear her say ‘I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy’ one more time, I actually think I’ll projectile vomit.” You could tell that his eyes didn’t shift from the screen though. “I can feel the bile. It’s going to happen.”

You only hummed in agreement, more interested in his lamenting than the actual movie.

Although origami wasn’t one of the skills you picked up in the fucking mafia, you still knew a few basic things. The rest you just folded with confidence and prayed it would work.

What other options did you have when you were stuck together in a house with no WiFi?

Sam had made a paper bowl to hold the car keys and the few dollars you picked up from Pierce’s place. It looked like it would fall apart at any given moment, its structural integrity questionable at best.

You had made a small flower that rested on the table in front of you. You were sure it would go missing the minute a draft entered the room.

He had given up after his contribution of the bowl. Apparently his creative expertise extended only towards that and paper airplanes, not that that stopped him. He was folding and manufacturing them with a vengeance.

“How is this supposed to help, Wilson?” you questioned, unable to contain the smile that grew on your face at the sheer number of planes he was making.

“Just because it’s not a decorative marvel-” he shot back in its defence, “-doesn’t mean it’s useless.”

“Oh, yeah? What else can it do other than not fly?” You watched as he launched one of them. It did a loop before falling miserably to the floor.

“Hey, you can put a message in it. Maybe one of those button trackers, a microphone. The possibilities are endless.” He laughed, folding another one out of the limited supply of paper he had left. “Besides, your thing won’t even lift off the ground.”

“Yeah, but this one can float.” You held up the swan that you had created. That about concluded your knowledge of origami.

“That’s actually… pretty cool,” he admitted. “Teach me how to make one.”

“A true master never reveals their secrets,” you eluded, placing it on the table.

“I dare you to make another.” Sneaky bastard. He knew you wouldn’t be able to replicate it. He saw you struggle the first time.

“Why, so you can just copy off of me?” you dodged, and Sam narrowed his eyes at you. You followed the same.

Neither of you blinked for a while.

“I’m out of paper,” he finally relented, gesturing to the fleet of planes that littered the table.

“I’m out of ideas.” You paused, looking down at how you’d spent the last hour. “Do you wanna go test these outside later?”

Sam looked up eagerly and you could just tell he was intending on getting competitive. “Hell yeah.”

“I’m going for a run in some time.” You got up to stretch your limbs, shrug off the fatigue that was setting in. Along the way you left the swan and one of the paper planes on top of the mini fridge alongside the car keys. It was cute. “We could do it then?”

“Sure,” he affirmed. “What time?”

“At around 6-” your eyes landed on the clock on the wall before widening, “-shit, shit, shit, I didn't realise it was five thirty. We have a call with Ransone.”

“Phone’s on the couch,” he mentioned to the living room, sitting up straight. “Why are you freaking out? We still got a few minutes to go.”

You pushed yourself away from the table, forcing yourself to shakie off the drowsiness that had begun to set in.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you mumbled, “He gets pissy if I don’t do things his way.”

You grabbed the phone, punching in the buttons and having it at the ready.

You noticed Sam focused on you with knitted eyebrows but not voicing whatever he had on his mind.

“Ready?” you questioned, but more as a formality. You had to do it regardless.

He simply nodded, looking on as you let the phone ring. If he had noticed your antsiness towards the call, he didn’t bring it up.

Ransone picked up on the last ring, not skipping a beat in answering, “Y/N.”

“Hey Ransone.” You switched the call to speakerphone.

“Are you alone?”

You glanced at Sam. He shook his head, arms crossed over his chest, edging you to continue with the arrangement you had planned the day prior.

Ransone trusted you more. He was more likely to communicate openly if Sam wasn’t around.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Where’s the other one?”

Sam silently scoffed.

“He’s taking a nap.”

“Ah,” Ransone’s tone was condescending. “How have things been?”

“It’s fine.” You press your lips into a straight line, not elucidating. “What’s the update out there?”

“Everything is a mess. We’re trying to figure out who attacked you but since there wasn’t anything left behind or any kind of trace, it’s proving to be... inconvenient.”

“Is it safe to travel?”

“What, with your face on national television?” he laughed. “Nah, I’d say it’s a little too early to be thinkin’ of a road trip. Just stay where you are, I’ll tell you when you can come out.”

Your fingers were thrumming at the table rhythmically, peeking at Sam every now and then for anything he found suspicious or wanted you to ask about.

“Listen, we’ve paid off every big guy to keep this under wraps as much as possible but Pierce was an important person. All the higher ups want this to be solved as quickly as possible. They don’t care about sacrificing a player here or there.”

Pinning the blame on you was easy enough. The faster you were put away, the faster they could stage an “accident” in prison so that none of their secrets were exposed. Wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before.

“Others in the business aren’t likin’ us accusing them of attacking one of our own. Our best bet right now is Serpentine but we haven’t gotten anything to prove it.”

You doubted they ever would. Even if they did do it, Serpentine was notorious for being cunning and stealthy in their operations. They made sure there would be no tracks leading back to them.

“So, we’re at a dead-end,” you verified. There was no telling when this would end, your exit looking further and further away. “We’re fucked.”

“No. We’ll just- Y/N, listen to me,” Ransone called out, drawing your attention back to the call.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve always protected you,” his voice was noticeably softer. “Don’t you trust me?”

You felt the temperature in the room drop.

“You said there would be no one there!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ransone scoffed. “I never said that.”

“I walk in there and there’s four people, completely armed.” Forcing yourself to recall it was making your head spin. Maybe you could ask the nurse for a painkiller. “It was supposed to be empty.”

“I think the blood loss is making you delirious,” he chided, looking at the bag of drips hanging above your bed. “It wasn’t even that bad-”

“You’re lying.” The words slipped out before you had the chance to think it over.

“Excuse me?” he tilted his head, tone suddenly sifting to that of warning.

You knew he was. You had agreed to this mission because it was supposed to be easy. It was a break.

“Ivan was there when you briefed me.” You lifted your good arm to point at him shakily. “He knows you’re lying.”

“Does he now?” Ransone quirked an eyebrow, studying his aid who stood in the corner of the dingy hospital room.

A beat of silence passed where Ransone stared at Ivan, waiting for a reply of confirmation.

Ivan only lifted his shoulders in unawareness. “I don’t remember you sayin’ that.”

Your mouth fell agape but you quickly rushed to shut it. Fucking liars. You shouldn’t have expected anything better.

“Told you.” Ransone shrugged. “You’re a smart one, Y/N, so I’m going to let that slide this time. But next time you accuse me of something I didn’t say…”

He trailed off, resting a hand on your broken shoulder. You flinched, jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might break. You tried to imagine yourself somewhere else, desperate to reduce the quivering of your body when he squeezed it lightly.

“You know I’ve always tried to protect you.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your head to meet his eye. “Don’t you trust me?”

A beat passed before you responded.

“I do,” you said through gritted teeth, pulling your face away from him.

“I’ll ask them to up your dosage.” Ransone took a step away from you, dropping his hand. “I’m going to need my best player on the field as soon as possible.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement. Every part of your body felt like it was going to combust.

Did he really say that no one was going to be there or was it just the injuries playing with you?

“Get well soon,” he offered, one step out the door. “Buttercup.”

“You trust me, don’t you Y/N?” he repeated when you didn’t respond.

“Yes.” You swallowed, gaze falling to the floor.

“And I trust you. You wouldn’t do anything to break that, would you?”

Sam raised his one hand questioningly as if to ask what the hell he was talking about. An intimidation tactic. He had been using it for several years to reinforce your loyalty.

“I wouldn’t.”

There were things you weren’t telling him, of course. Details about that day or where you and Sam were hiding right off the top of your head. More if you thought about it deeply.

“Good,” came his response. “So if there’s anything you need, let me know. I’m always a call away.”

“Thank you.”

“Talk to you soon.” He ended the call there.

You stood there blankly for a while before dropping the phone to the ground and crushing it. Usually you wouldn’t have to do that; removing the battery would be enough. This time you wanted to.

Your chest rose and fell heavily. You loathed him. Yet, you couldn’t fucking leave.

“Hey.” Your eyes snapped back to Sam. “We still going on that run?”

The wind felt good.

Your muscles were burning and you could feel the constriction of your lungs but you liked it. The endorphins were working their charm.

Sam was right beside you, not questioning why there was so much aggression in your movement. You had lost track of how long you had been running. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that.

The path was paved with fallen branches and roots sticking out, forcing you to hop over some of them to avoid falling. It only annoyed you further.

You wanted to punch something. Or someone. The tension was rolling off your back in waves, and if someone saw you the’d probably believe you were going to commit an act of violence.

It was a while before you felt your steps begin to falter, the need for a proper breath taking precedence over the want to run more.

“Timeout?” you asked Sam breathlessly, slowing your pace to a jog.

“Sure about that, Usain Bolt?” he huffed, slowing his pace to match yours.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed it. “T’was fun.”

Now that you had slowed down, it forced you to come to terms with how much energy you had just burnt out.

“You wanna talk about what’s on your mind or ignore it?”

“Rather not talk about it for now.” The more you thought about him, the angrier you got. And as of late, you had realised that your method of dealing with that anger wasn’t the best.

The air was getting colder. It was getting harder to see what was in front of you, relying on the few rays of sunlight that shone through the treetops. You took a roundabout at your self declared checkpoint, changing course back to the house.

Sam followed wordlessly, but his presence was strangely comforting. Warm.

“Thank you.”

“For...” he trailed off, prodding you on.

“I don’t know. This.” You gestured to the path ahead of you. “I didn’t think you’d agree to it.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His eyebrows knit together in puzzlement.

You didn’t have an answer to that. Probably because you weren’t used to people just doing nice things for no apparent reason.

“How are you so calm all the time? I’ve never seen him get under your skin,” you asked quietly. “How do you do it?”

He didn’t answer straight away. He mulled over it as he dodged broken sticks and upended roots on the ground. You would be fine if he didn’t answer either; as long as he knew that you appreciated it.

“I just realised that everything he put into me was destructive. Actively worked on unlearning it,” he replied after a while. “It took me years to even begin.”

You expected to hear that but it didn’t make it easier.

“I don’t even know how to start,” you mumbled. It was so tiring, even thinking of where and how it began. It was all you knew. All you were taught.

“If I could add something?”

You looked at him questioningly.

“You had a different relationship with him than all of us, Y/N. A deeper one. It’s not easy to forget that,” he pointed out. “But… you’re not him. That takes strength.”

These weren’t new revelations. It was things you had told yourself earlier to rationalise all your actions. You knew it on a surface level but it was difficult to convince yourself sincerely.

You didn’t say anything, just continued jogging with an eye on the ground.

It felt better to hear it from someone else. A starting point to maybe get to where he was, too.

“I just can’t believe anyone took him seriously enough for him to get this far,” Sam added, a tick of annoyance in his voice. “I don’t condone bullying but someone should have just punched him in the face as a child.”

It wasn’t even the funniest thing you had heard him say but for some reason it elicited a snort from you, soon giving way to a laugh.

His face snapped to yours at the sound of your laughter, a small smile growing on his face.

His brief moment of distraction was all it took for him to not notice the tree root sticking out in front of him. His ankle got caught in the wood, sending him stumbling to the ground face forward.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, halting in your place immediately, dropping to your knees to where he was.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned, turning onto his back. “I think I broke my face.”

“That may be a bit excessive but your nose is definitely bleeding,” you knew this was serious but you were finding it difficult to control your laughter once you realised it wasn’t a life threatening injury.

“Just leave me here to die.” He covered his eyes with his elbow, refusing to look at you.

“C’mon, Wilson. Let’s get you fixed up.” You stood up, offering your hand. He grabbed onto it, hoisting himself up. “Can you stand up straight? Do you think you have a concussion?”

“World class assassin,” he grumbled, shaking his head to imply he was fine other than a possible broken nose.

“Promise I won’t tell. Your reputation is safe,” you said it humorously but with conviction, hoping to make it less embarrassing for him. Not that you’d let him forget it any time soon.

It took longer to walk back considering how far you had ventured out, along with the fact that you had to guide him as he held his nose in the air to try and control the bleeding.

You pushed open the door to the house, holding it open as he walked in. Sam made his way to the dining room after you told him you’d get the first aid kit for the second time during your stay there.

By the time you returned from the bathroom, grabbing an old t-shirt along the way, he had a single ice cube pressed to the bridge of his nose.

“That’s not going to be enough.” You dropped the kit onto the table, opening the mini fridge. You emptied the ice cubes from the tray onto the t-shirt, twisting it into a small ice pack.

“These are my battle scars.” You could tell that he was trying not to use his nose. He sounded ridiculous.

“Whatever makes you feel better, Sam,” you chortled. His mouth eased into a half smile and you didn’t get why until you realised it was the first time you had called him by his name. You didn’t acknowledge it, surprised by how easily it slipped out from your mouth when you weren’t actively stopping it.

You gave him a bit of cotton to wipe off the blood that had dried on his face.

“Look up,” you instructed, standing over him so you could assess the damage. He complied, letting you cradle his jaw softly, tilting his head to see if there were any signs of a fracture or anything worse.

It was a bad fall, but nothing he hadn’t been through before in terms of severeness. It wasn’t going to leave a mark.

“Definitely going to bruise but it’s not broken,” you concluded, going over it once more to make sure.

“Thanks, doc,” his voice came softly from below you. Only then did you realise how close you were standing to him. You could feel his breath on your wrist that was still caressing his face.

It felt like eternity, but he didn’t make an effort to move or shove you away. Your eyes flitted down to his lips for a second. If you just leaned dow-

“Right,” you cleared your throat, taking a step back. “Just hold this to your face for a while to reduce any swelling.”

You handed him the makeshift ice pack, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

“Your turn to use the bed tonight, right?” His voice was significantly lower than what it had been a few minutes ago, something you weren’t acclimated to hearing. It only made your face feel hotter.

“Yeah.” You avoided meeting his eyes, using the time to close the first aid kid. “Unless you want it.”

“No, go ahead.”

It was too early to retire for the evening but suddenly you weren’t all that hungry anymore. Apparently neither was he.

“See you tomorrow, then?” you inquired, turning away before he could see you cringe.

“See you tomorrow,” he confirmed, “Good night.”

You just gave him a short wave over your shoulder and physically restrained from walking to the room, shutting the door and never looking at him again. You hoped he didn’t notice or at least never bring it up if he did.

You couldn’t do this. Not again.

Not when you knew the consequences.

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