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emilys-bangs · 2 months ago

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etch | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, too much tension for *checks notes* 1k words, reader gets a (hip) tattoo, emily short-circuits, no design or color mentioned

Summary: You get a tattoo. Emily somewhat loses her train of thought. Requested here.

Word count: 1.1k

Emily sheds her clothes as she walks further into the apartment, toeing her shoes off at the door, shrugging out of her blazer and draping it over the back of the couch as she goes, not really caring about the mess she’s leaving in her wake. She’ll pick them up, she always does, but for now she needs all confining materials off her body.

It’s quiet. Sergio trots up to her as she’s dumping her bag in the laundry room, curling around her ankles with a trill. Emily smiles and bends to scratch between his ears. “Hey, handsome. Why’s it so quiet here, huh? Y/N didn’t pack up and leave us, did they?”

Sergio pushes his head into her hand. Emily laughs, dragging her nails through his fur. “Let’s go see, then.”

He chases her ankles as she walks out, her eyes scanning the apartment for a glimpse of you. It’s quiet, yes, but not lifeless; the lights are on, the faint scent of coffee lingers along with a discarded mug on the table. “Babe?” She calls out, pushing open your bedroom door. Sergio follows as she locks her gun in the safe.

“Here.”

A sliver of light pours out from the crack between the bathroom door and the frame, your voice muffled behind it.

Emily gently nudges Sergio’s paw off of her thigh, placing a consoling kiss on his head when he meows. “We haven’t been abandoned yet, Serg. Must be doing something right, huh?” She straightens and nudges the bathroom door open, eyes widening when she sees you standing in front of the mirror.

You’re topless. And peeling a transparent piece of film from your hip, stretching it away to expose a thick, shapeless blob caked just under your navel. Emily stares as you greet her with a smile and toss the film in the trash.

“Hi.”

“Is that a tattoo?” She blurts, stepping closer.

“It is, yeah,” you hum, turning on the tap and wetting a bar of soap. It froths, bubbles growing between your palms as Emily bends a little to get a closer look, trying to discern the design beneath the mess of smeared ink and plasma. She can’t see much before you gently start washing it, rubbing small circles to take the excess gunk off of your skin. You let out a disgusted noise when ink transfers to your fingers.

Emily is still staring. You’ve mentioned wanting to get a tattoo a few times before, but it was always some sort of vague, throwaway comment you murmured with your lips on her hip bone, tracing the ink on her own skin. Everything was blurry—her attention, your voice, the notion of a design beyond simply wanting to get one. Something pretty, you’d say, and the vibrations of the words through her body were enough to clear her mind of anything else.

The tattoo finally comes into view. Your skin is raw around it, puffed and swelling, but there’s no denying it’s gorgeous. The ink glistens on your wet skin, curving intimately around your hip and cupping it like a gentle hand. Emily could mirror the same movement with her palm, only she could never get as close as fusing with your skin.

“Earth to Em.” You murmur teasingly. She looks up when you flick a few drops of water on her, belatedly closing her mouth as your eyes meet. “I’m guessing that means you like it?” You toy with your lip, teeth digging down on a grin.

Fucker.

“It’s pretty,” she says, embarrassed to find a rasp in her voice. Emily clears her throat, “It suits you, love. I’m, uh…just surprised, that’s all.”

“I finally knew what I wanted to get,” you shrug, washing your hands again before reaching for a roll of paper towels. “Didn’t want to wait any longer. I’d have told you, but you were busy. Besides,” you look at her through your lashes, “it evidently makes for a nice surprise.”

She desperately wants to wipe that smirk off your face. Preferably with her lips, but you’re busy, and she knows the demands of tattoo aftercare. Her eyes drop down to it again as you pat it dry, soaking up the water dripping down to the waistband of your pants.

“Evidently.”

She’s already plagued with the urge to press her lips to it, drag her teeth over your skin and nibble bruises in the space between the ink. Suddenly she understands why you spend hours at her hip and lower back, wandering fingers hot on her skin as you traced along her tattoos.

You tilt your hip and she imagines it in her hands, her nails digging in crescents, temporary permanence blooming above the stark ink that gets to stay with you longer than she will.

She’s only half answering when you ask her how the case went, how’d she eat, how’d she sleep, even though you’d called almost every night. Emily always tries to keep it vague, but this time it doesn’t even take any effort; her mind can’t focus, her thoughts as fleeting as smoke curling through the gaps between her hands, elusive. You place another sheet of film on your hip, slide your waistband up so that the tattoo is partially covered, and that’s when she somewhat regains her focus.

You’re smug as the cat that got the cream. Emily doesn’t particularly care, her back pressing against the sink as you slot into her arms, your mouth finally meeting hers for a kiss. Her hands splay over your back and gently squeeze, saying hello. She traces your spine, her fingers trailing down to the curve of your waist without permission. You smile into her mouth, the taste of your pride thick on her tongue as she gently thumbs the film on your hip, her eyes still full of the way the ink sneaks up above your waistband. Emily nips hard at your bottom lip, your laugh echoing in her ears as you pull back.

Her breathing is embarrassingly labored, catching in her chest and warming your chin in ragged chops.

No place like fucking home.

“If you like that one,” you smile, idly tucking her hair behind her ear, “you’ll really love the one I have planned next.”

Oh, Jesus.

“What?” Emily’s throat dries. “Where?” Her nails bite into your flesh.

You run your hand down the side of your chest, fingers drumming just over your ribs. “Thereabouts,” you drawl, airy carelessness in your voice.

Emily groans into her mouth. “I swear to god,” she murmurs, her grip tight as she pulls you in by the other hip. “You’re going to kill me one day.”

You stumble into her, laughing. “Good way to go, I think.”

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#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fics #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss blurb #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fic #divider by saradika

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queenshelby · 2 years ago

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Daddy Issues (Part Two)

Pairing: Dominant!Cillian Murphy & Shy!Reader (& Jamie Dornan)

Warning: Smut, BDSM, Daddy Kink, 4-Somes, 3-Somes, Sugar Baby Arrangements

Summary: Through your best friend, you meet actor Cillian Murphy and come to some kind of arrangement involving intimacy in exchange for being spoiled financially.

Written with: my beautiful wife @darkshelbyfiction

Several days later...

Several days later and Emma had organised dinner at a famous Japanese restaurant with both Jamie and Cillian Murphy attending and you were unsure what to wear as, again, your sense of self-consciousness and lack of self-esteem began gnawing away at you. Should you dress provocatively to catch his eye or opt for something demure to blend in with the crowd? Your indecision mirrored your uncertainty regarding the evening ahead.

Luckily for you, Emma had brought some clothes with her, knowing that you did not own anything other than a few pairs of jeans and shirts.

"How about this one?" she asked, pulling out a velvety red dress that Jamie had bought for her recently.

"It's, uhm, red?" you stammered, your cheeks turning crimson due to the daring choice of attire.

"Okay, let's go with something more boring," Emma teased before pulling out a black skirt and a simple, but pretty, white silk shirt instead. You hesitated briefly, worrying whether your ordinary appearance might be too boring after all for a man who you knew could have every woman he wanted.

"It will look good, but don't wear a bra with it," Emma suggested, smirking playfully. "Jamie loves seeing my nipples through the fabric and no doubt Cillian will feel the same about yours." With resignation, you followed her advice.

"What even makes you think that he would like me? He was married to this actress, Annabelle Wallis, for a few years and before that, he was married to this designer named Grace. They both are stunning and I am merely average," you thought out loud sadly. Surely, he wouldn't want an ordinary girl like me? Your insecurities started eating you alive, causing your palms to sweat profusely underneath your delicate hands.

"You are gorgeous and if you were just slightly gay, then we wouldn't just be friends babe", Emma consoled. "We all face our insecurities differently but trust me, he won't reject you once he sees you". Her voice was soft and tender, kindling your faith in yourself. She guided you through various ways to enhance your body language, facial expressions, vocal inflections. Every piece of advice was designed to bring forth your inner charm. You watched her carefully, taking notes mentally.

When she finished teaching you, she smiled encouragingly and whispered, "Remember, embrace your flaws. Trust me, you'd surprise yourself," adding, "And do try to relax tonight."

You nodded appreciatively, attempting to breathe deeply and calm your racing pulse. Emphasizing her point further, Emma added, "Trust me, once you start getting comfortable, it'll be easier to let loose and unwind."

Your brow furrowed in confusion, wondering how exactly one goes about becoming 'comfortable'. Nonetheless, you took Emma's words to heart, hoping to channel her strength in times of discomfort.

An hour later...

As you entered the luxurious London eatery, filled with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and attentive staff whisking around effortlessly in their pristine uniforms, you couldn't help feeling intimidated by the sophistication surrounding you.

Your best friend Emma was right by your side as you were shown to a well-appointed but secluded table, which is where Jamie and Cillian were already waiting for you.

As soon as you arrived, Jamie whispered something into Cillian's ear causing him to glance into your direction, his piercing blue eyes fixing upon yours briefly before looking away again. It seemed there might be some underlying chemistry here after all - if only momentarily.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, you introduced yourself to Cillian warmly.

"I am Y/N," you started, "it's nice to meet you." Your voice came out more breathless than usual due to nerves, though it didn't seem to affect your confidence too drastically.

In response, Cillian offered a broad smile. "Likewise, Y/N", he said softly. His Irish accent added an extra layer of charm that made him even more appealing, albeit slightly disconcerting.

"So, you are Emma's friend? And she tells me that you study law together?" Cillian said politely, breaking the awkward initial silence while sipping from his wine glass. His demeanor appeared relaxed yet focused, showing a genuine interest in what you had to say.

"Yes, we've known each other since we were kids actually!" You advised casually while waiting for the waitress to pour you a glass of wine as well. The mention of childhood memories caused a subtle change in the atmosphere.

"Y/N is an honor student, top of her class," bragged Emma proudly before Jamie pulled a joke. "And Cillian here dropped out of law school after failing two of his exams," he said teasingly. All three shared a laugh over this small bit of banter, easing the initial nervousness in the air.

"What made you go to law school?" you eventually ought to enquire, seeing that everyone was now at ease and at least somewhat comfortable with each other.

"My parents," Cillian chuckled before telling you some more about his upbringing, and you did the same.

With that, conversations moved from topic to topic for two hours while you all enjoyed some Japanese food. The topics discussed were ranging from film projects they worked on, dating stories, to politics. But underneath it all lingered an unspoken tension.

As time went on, Cillian's attention shifted toward you, glances growing longer and more frequent. Emma noticed this too, shooting looks back at you with mischievous intent while you became rather quiet and nervous, which was something Cillian picked up immediately.

"So, tell me Y/N," he interrupted, attempting to start another conversation. "What do you want to achieve in life? What are your ambitions?" There was an undertone of curiosity in his question as it became clear to you that him and Jamie had been talking about you.

Feeling somewhat uneasy about this revelation, you answered confidently, telling him about your aspirations to become a successful lawyer someday, contributing positively to society through justice reform and empowerment.

Emma chimed in excitedly, adding how determined you are when pursuing your goals. "She doesn't give up easily – I know because sometimes we compete against each other for better grades. I don't usually stand a chance though because she is a nerd!".

Cillian chuckled appreciatively. "Well, then I have no doubt that you can reach those dreams one day," he remarked thoughtfully and with a warm smile just as the waitress came to take your order for dessert.

While you waited for your desserts to arrive, Jamie suggested that you could all enjoy some drinks at his apartment afterwards instead of going out to a bar and, both, Cillian and Emma agreed instantly, eager to spend more quality time with each other.

You, too, reluctantly agreed, knowing that spending more time with them privately would potentially increase your chances of getting to know Cillian a bit better while, at the same time, you were a little nervous about what else the night could bring.

***

Shortly after dinner, you all left the restaurant. Jamie led the way, expertly navigating through crowds. As you walked, you could feel the excitement building within, not just because of the unknown that lay ahead, but also the undeniable magnetic pull that emanated from Cillian. He carried himself with such poise, drawing people in without even trying.

Once inside Jamiee's luxury apartment, the four of you found yourselves drawn to the living room area. After catching up on general topics like recent films and news and drinking a decent amount of wine, Jamie proposed playing a game called 'truth or dare', which was something you had not played since high school.

"Seriously? Aren't we a bit old for that?" Emma laughed, teasing Jamie who, by this point, had shown some more intimate affection towards Emma.

"No. In fact, it becomes more fun the older you get," Jamie pointed out with a wink while Emma simply rolled her eyes.

This was designed to break the ice further and get everyone comfortable enough to share personal information. Taking turns, each person had to answer either a truthful statement or perform a dare and, whilst everyone was familiar to the rules, the idea of playing this game with a group of adults like this made you nervous, knowing very well where this could lead.

Naturally, Emma volunteered first and selected 'truth' and it was Jamie who asked the question, "What's your most embarrassing memory involving Y/N?" He laughed good-humoredly.

Her face turned red as she hesitated, clearly struggling to think of something, finally saying: "It involves us meeting up late one night, running across campus half naked and high on weed. Neither of us had smoked it before and we ended up sleeping in between the hedges. It was rather embarrassing when Y/N's idiot of an ex-boyfriend found us the next morning and made a scene," Emma told the crowd and everybody laughed heartily, sharing their own similar experiences. This set a casual tone that eased anxieties among the group.

Turning towards Cillian, he opted for 'dare'.

Being Emma's turn, she challenged him thusly: "Go onto the balcony and strip," she giggled.

"All the way?" he asked, and she gave him a lifeline. "No. It's too early for that. Just down to your briefs. Anything more would be inappropriate," she chuckled, and Cillian obliged readily, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind about his attractiveness.

"You aren't actually going to do this, right?" you asked as he walked towards the balcony and his brows furrowed.

"Why not? No one will see me. We are on the 28th floor!" Cillian laughed and, upon returning, Cillian took a seat near you, displaying raw power and magnetism as he crossed his legs, but put his t-shirt back on, leaving him comfortable in black Calvin-Klein briefs and a black t-shirt.

Now, it was your turn. Under pressure, you chose 'truth', and Emma decided to ask you a question.

She wanted to know, "Who's your celebrity crush?" and you immediately gasped. Without missing a beat, you blushed and looked at Cillian and murmured his name.

The others burst into loud guffaws and cheers, Jamie playfully punching Cillian's arm as he congratulated him on his appeal while your cheeks turned red.

"Are you just saying this because I am sitting right next to you?" Cillian laughed and you nervously shook your head.

"No. I mean, I think you are, uhm, really...uhm...," you stammered, and, despite your obvious discomfort, you found yourself unable to look away from Cillian.

Cillian raised his eyebrows in response of your unfinished statement and Emma intervened, saying "she thinks that you are hot, Cillian!"

"That's good to know," Cillian winked in response and his bold moves had captured your full attention now. Your aroused state heightened significantly, and you suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely attracted to his intensity.

At long last, you reached another turn. Swallowing hard, you stood up and announced solemnly, "I choose dare." Everyone's gaze fell on you expectantly as Emma spoke up and dared you to kiss someone of your choosing.

You swallowed harshly, acutely aware of the sudden heat in your cheeks and, since you were afraid to choose anyone else, you chose Emma.

Everybody watched closely as you moved towards her slowly, closing the gap between you two. Feeling the fire igniting deep within, you pressed your lips tenderly against hers, teasingly at first, then passionately, pulling her closer to you. Her hands slid down your sides, touching your waist, and caressing your curves until they rested on your ass.

"Fuck, that I did not expect," Jamie gasped, seeing that, contrary to Emma, he knew very well that you were usually rather prude while Cillian simply smiled enigmatically.

"Is that okay?" Emma then asked as, eventually, her hands slid under your shirt, cupping your breasts.

"Yes, I think so," you said nervously before Emma slowly pulled off your top. Your nipples grew hard, becoming erect in the cool air conditioning of the apartment.

"It is your turn Cillian. Truth or dare?" Emma then asked huskily as she sat close to you, running her fingers along your neck seductively. Her breath tickling your earlobe.

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should proceed. However, feeling emboldened by the alcohol, you chose to go along with it as Cillian said "dare" with a low and husky voice, unable to look away from your naked chest.

"Dare, huh?" Emma teased while walking over towards him seductively and reaching for his hand, thereby pulling him off his chair.

"Come over here and touch her, just above her thigh," commanded Emma in a low seductive voice while guiding Cillian over towards you.

Your heart raced as Cillian followed her lead, moving steadily towards where you were sitting.

He then kneeled before you and placed his large, strong hands softly on your inner thighs, causing a surge of desire to course through your veins while Emma positioned herself next to you again.

"Is that alright?" Cillian asked politely, seeking consent, as the atmosphere in the room intensified dramatically, every eye fixed on the unfolding scenario.

"Yes, that feels nice," you whispered softly, allowing his massive hands to slide higher up your leg, beneath your skirt, brushing against your sensitive skin and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The scent of Cillian's cologne filled your nostrils, reminding you of his presence.

Meanwhile, Jamie observed the situation with interest, sipping his wine slowly. Emma continued to sit beside you, rubbing your shoulders suggestively.

"Just a little higher, Cill..." Emma encouraged Cillian, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

As he carefully pushed aside your skirt, exposing your lace panties, you couldn't help but tremble slightly in anticipation.

"You are really wet already, Y/n," he commented almost matter-of-factly. Despite the alcohol, it was clear that you weren't simply imagining it; your moistness revealed an unspoken attraction toward him. It was intense and you desperately wanted him to touch your core.

Answering your prayers, Cillian brushed his fingers tentatively over the soaking fabric of your thong, his touch eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as the sensation sent a ripple of electricity throughout your entire frame.

Emma let out a pleased hum at the sight of you squirming underneath his touch. Meanwhile, Jamie was watching intently, his eyes glinting with a mixture of intrigue and amusement before urging Cillian on.

"It's Emma's turn and I know she will choose dare, so tell her what to do Cillian," he chuckled mischievously.

Cillian narrowed his eyes at Jamie, then directed his attention towards Emma, a cocky grin forming on his face.

"I dare you to remove your clothes," he taunted, staring deeply into her eyes.

Emma paused briefly, contemplating whether to accept the challenge or not. But ultimately, her rebellious nature won out as she confidently replied, "Alright" before beginning to strip in front of them all. Starting from her shoes, she removed each piece of clothing methodically, showcasing her voluptuous body and accentuating her feminine curves.

With each garment discarded, the room became increasingly charged with lust and desire, filling everyone with growing anticipation. Once naked, she strutted towards Jamie, giving you and Cillian some space as, still, he drew circles over your panties.

"Well, looks like we don't need any more dares," Jamie then noted, removing his clothes also and, finally, showering Emma with some rough but passionate attention.

Their bodies intertwined with one another effortlessly, drawing gasps from the audience around them. Your face flushed hotly at the sight, as you could feel a growing sense of arousal inside you.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" Cillian asked as he moved even closer to you, ensuring you wouldn't miss a single bit of his commanding demeanor.

"No...I mean...yes...," you stammered nervously, causing Cillian to cock his eyebrows again. "I mean, yes, please kiss me," you clarified, your words barely a whisper as you allowed him to move closer.

As his warm breath grazed past your mouth, he closed the distance between you both. Your lips met ever so gently, your connection seemingly electrical. Your hearts raced together as his tongue danced with yours, delving deeper and deeper into your mouth.

"Look how hard you make him," Emma drawled, her tone dripping with seduction as she watched your reactions to Cillian who was now moving his lips from your mouth to your neck and then all the way down to your naked breasts. His erection was evidentially straining against his Calvin Klein briefs but you did not dare to look at his crotch.

Each touch made your breath catch in your throat, the warmth of his tongue tracing shapes across your skin sending shockwaves through your system. You arched your back instinctively, inviting more of his ministrations.

To help you along, Emma and Jamie had moved themselves to a spot behind you and her arms encircled around your torso tightly.

"Spread your legs for him, baby," suggested Emma while pressing herself firmly against your lower back, making sure not to lose contact with you.

Her demand spurred you on, and you obliged without hesitation, spreading your legs wide apart for Cillian who did not hesitate to finally take off your panties completely. Now fully exposed, your most private area lay bared right there in front of him and Emma said "doesn't she have a pretty little pussy?" while looking directly at you. Your face flushed crimson as embarrassment washed over you, but yet, there was something rather arousing about the way she spoke.

"Yes, her pussy looks absolutely divine!" Cillian remarked as he admired your entrance while probing it gently. It wasn't difficult to see why he found such fascination in your body – your cleft lips parted to form a small opening that invited further investigation.

"Put your finger inside her and see how tight she is," ordered Emma, her own voice having become hoarse due to her earlier activities with Jamie. And without missing a beat, Cillian complied eagerly, gently inserting his index finger into your tight entrance, stroking your walls gingerly. It didn't take much persuasion for you to oblige.

"She is very tight indeed," he groaned as you looked back at him hungrily and moaned.

"And look how fucking wet she is too," Cillian observed before withdrawing his finger from your cleft and bringing it up to Emma's mouth, offering it for her to taste. With a hint of playful mischief, she took his offered digit into her mouth, sucking it clean before returning it to its original position between your legs, stimulating you further with her expert technique.

Jamie joined in, taking hold of your hand and placing it upon his own bulging member, instructing you to stroke him with long, leisurely movements. His manhood twitched in response, causing a sharp flutter within your belly.

"Let me get my tongue between those beautiful lips, sweetheart." Cillian murmured, captivated by your allure. Your whole body thrummed with anticipation as he knelt down again, preparing himself to carry out his request.

"Oh god please," you moaned suddenly as his mouth fastened onto your swollen labia, first tenderly caressing it with gentle bites and licks, then fiercely thrusting his tongue deep into your core. Every time he penetrated you with his tongue, a wave of ecstatic delight swept through your limbs, making you quiver with joy.

At the same time, you stroked Jamie's erect length, reveling in the feeling of his thick, velvety member sliding through your palms. It was an incredible sensory experience you would remember forever.

"Oh god Cillian! This feels so good…" you gasped, unable to contain yourself as a sudden surge of pleasure flooded your entire body. Both men noticed the intensity of your reaction, their eyes burning with the desire they saw reflected in yours and even Emma let out a moan as she watched the scene unfold.

"Fuck, you taste amazing," praised Cillian appreciatively, savoring the flavors on his tongue after sampling you thoroughly.

As you gazed at Cillian, mesmerized by his dominance, he swiftly stood up and undressed, the sight of which made you let go off Jamie's cock and stare at Cillian's erection instead. His impressive size only added fuel to your desires and Emma smiled wickedly seeing you ogling at Cillian’s package.

"You should taste him. He tastes fantastic!" Emma urged excitedly, prompting you to place your lips around Cillian's rigid length and start sucking greedily.

"Would you like me to?" you asked Cillian nervously, unsure yet enticed by the idea.

"Only if you want to," Cillian said as he gave you a seductive smile.

"I do," you confirmed nervously while, with steady hands, you placed your lips gently over the tip of his erection, allowing just enough air to flow in to create a ticklish sensation. At the same time, Emma began working her magic once more, engaging in an erotic dance with Jamie, teasing him with close encounters and slow caresses. Their passionate interactions intensified, heightening the already charged atmosphere.

"That feels good. Keep going," Cillian urged as you continued sucking him vigorously, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. The sounds of the others lost all meaning as you focused solely on pleasuring Cillian, ignoring the fact that Jamie was taking Emma roughly from behind, right over the back of the couch.

Her moans echoed loudly, signaling her unadulterated enjoyment, despite the precariousness of their positions. The soundtrack playing in the background seemed almost obscene compared to what unfolded before their very eyes.

Cillian's strong hands held your head, guiding you deeper onto his erection gently as you sucked him with increased fervor. With every passing moment, his moans grew louder, betraying his rising excitement. But then, he pulled away abruptly and reached for the packet of condoms which Jamie had conveniently placed on the sofa.

"Do you want me to?" Cillian asked, wanting confirmation before proceeding further. You quickly nodded your assent, desperate to give him whatever he desired.

"Alright, then bend over and face your gorgeous friend," commanded Cillian sternly, demonstrating a level of control few could match. Without delay, you immediately obeyed, turning toward Emma and presenting your round bottom for Cillian to ravage.

As you adjusted your posture accordingly, you caught Emma smirking knowingly at you, evidently proud of your submissiveness while Cillian carefully removed a condom from the pack Jamie provided before rolling it onto his engorged member.

Then, Cillian approached you slowly, letting you savor the impending moment before he entered you.

Positioning himself between your thighs, he rubbed his swollen manhood against your slick folds teasingly, creating a tantalizing friction that left you craving even more. When he felt ready, he applied pressure, angling his hips slightly, allowing his massive length to ease effortlessly into your warm embrace. As his bulk stretched your entrance, you couldn't help but cry out in surprise. Despite the initial discomfort, it served only to excite you even more knowing that you had taken something so large and imposing inside you.

"Fuck you are tight," Cillian exclaimed, his voice filled with raw hunger. His forceful rhythm matched perfectly with your increasing ardor. You threw your head back in a display of utter surrender, your nipples growing harder with each thrust. Meanwhile, Jamie continued to take advantage of Emma's body with reckless abandon.

Emma grunted with satisfaction, mirroring your wild expressions of bliss. Her high pitched whimpers were music to your ears, driving you to push Cillian faster.

"Just last week, Emma had Cillian's cock in her ass. Did you know that?" Jamie groaned, watching you enjoy his friend's hardness with ravenous enthusiasm. "Oh god, you're so fucking hot like this, Em" he then groaned, holding Emma's waist as he drove into her.

In response, Emma smiled wickedly, her breath coming heavily. "Absolutely, I love being taken and it looks like Y/N enjoys it as well. Just look at her, moaning and squirming while your friend fucks her," Emma commented, her voice dripping with approval. "Oh, God yes. I do. Fuck, please don't stop!" you cried out, driven mad by the pleasure coursing through your veins. Your skin was damp with perspiration, and you could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building in your core.

As your body trembled with the approach of release, Emma reached forward and stroked your face before placing her lips on to yours, causing you to moan into her mouth.

"Fuck, you two are amazing together," Cillian muttered in admiration, looking at you while his pace quickened, pounding into you relentlessly.

The sensations he created were unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Every nerve ending seemed alive and awake, screaming for more. All of you shared glances of pride and acknowledgement, your eyes meeting briefly before drifting back to focus on the spectacle happening before you. The room itself became hazy with heat, steam from bodies filling the space as everyone indulged in each other's company.

"Do you like this?" Emma whispered softly into your ear, her breath stirring your hair gently.

“Yes. Oh god yes," you replied eagerly, losing track of time completely while Cillian's fingers found your sensitive spots, brushing them tenderly until you begged for more.

"Please, Cillian," you entreated, your voice hoarse from desire. "Keep doing that!" You felt consumed by waves of euphoria crashing one after another, leaving you delirious with pleasure. Each touch of his talented digits sent shockwaves across your body, causing you to lose any sense of reason until, eventually, you could not hold it any longer.

Overwhelmed by the powerful rush of sensations, you climaxed with such intensity that your legs shook, your eyes rolled back in your head, and involuntary gasps escaped your throat.

"Yes, oh god yes," you repeated endlessly, barely aware of what you said anymore. Your whole world narrowed down to the feelings that coursed through your body, nothing else mattering except the pleasure that wracked your frame. And when you finally came down from the edge, you opened your eyes again and heard Emma say "don't waste your cum, Cillian! Pull out of her and let us have a taste!"

Cillian though hesitated for a brief moment, considering whether to comply with her request. Then, he looked directly into your eyes, making sure you were okay with that and, after receiving a confident nod from you, he pulled out.

"Cum in my mouth and I make sure to share with Em," you said, surprised by your own confidence as, quickly, you dropped to your knees to catch his seed in your mouth.

Without hesitation, Cillian obliged, directing the head of his cock to your open mouth while stroking himself to climax.

His cum splattered everywhere as you accepted every drop hungrily, opening wide and using your tongue to clean up any droplets that missed its target. You held his seed in your mouth and, while doing this, you met Emma's expectant gaze.

Leaning towards her, you kissed her lips chastely and allowed Cillian's cum to flow onto her tongue. Smiling triumphantly, she took it eagerly, ensuring there wasn't a single drop left to waste.

"Fuck that's hot," Jamie mumbled, appreciatively watching from nearby while Cillian simply let out a low groan. This kind of intimate interaction clearly got him excited beyond belief and the sight of you sharing his cum with your friend made him hard all over again.

You, on the other hand, started to feel a bit tired now, still high off your recent orgasm, but also curious as to how your body would react to yet another encounter and, as if he was reading your mind, Cillian offered to take this to the guestroom.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfic #jamie dornan

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 year ago

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You know how I love offbeat properties and I found this seller's For-Sale-By-Owner ad on Zillow. He started building the home in 1969, in Eureka, California, and it's been under construction for 43 years! It's a French ornamented cathedral Gothic, with all custom ornaments, molds and scaffolding techniques. This mansion is based on Newport, Rhode Island style and spirit from the 19th Century.

This is what it's supposed to look like - The Vision.

And, in 43 yrs., this is what he's done so far. He's asking $4.5M. Now, he has been living in it, so you can live in the finished part. The house is being sold furnished, and what furnishings! Read what he wrote about them below:

"Also for sale here are 1500 sq. ft of the ultimate grade palatial antique Italian marquetry, veneer and solid wood furniture, ranging from console tables and mirrors; 10 different sizes of round antique tables, up to a 12' x 6' museum-piece dining table, various rare cabinets, marquetry, upholstered chairs, couches, china and other cabinets, solid gold (plated) grandfather clock and two huge antique chandeliers, all worth over $300k on the market now and arguably TWICE that!"

This outer door is amazing.

Here's a gargoyle and other ornamentation that still has to go on the house.

But, look at this - it says the exterior designs are ready for installation "when the lawsuit is over." So, the property is involved in a lawsuit, too? (Check the blog - I found the lawsuit papers and posted it.)

There's so much stuff here.

This room is done. It must be a ballroom. I don't know what to make of all this. This looks like the Romanoff's place.

This must be a music room. There's a harpsicord and a harp in here.

Look at these walls. He says the walls are hand done- are these the actual walls?

The walls are hand painted according to the description.

Here's a mantel waiting to be installed.

This is going to be the kitchen.

The gold double sink.

I don't know if this is an old picture of the original inspiration for this home, but it's definitely a representation of the home itself.

This is an amazing fireplace.

Another beautiful fireplace.

He's using the bedroom, but it's not finished.

I'm disappointed in this bathroom. Maybe it's just temporary?

He has a lot of photos of the furniture and these are really primo antiques. So, this would be one of the dining rooms.

This looks like a brand new bedroom set. Looks like a furniture store that used to be near me called Roma Furniture.

The chandelier in the ballroom that he says is included in the sale.

One of the sitting rooms.

Nice inlaid table.

There's a lot of furniture. If you want to see it all, click on the link b/c he's posted 100 photos. But, I'm very confused.

The property measures 6 acres and there are "massive fall color and rose gardens, 20,000 plantings, plus 10,000 daffodil, iris, lily, etc. Bulbs are spread over 6 acres, still there mostly, alive and colorful. Plus, hundreds of valuable landscaping sculptures are included."

#unique homes #unusual homes #gothic mansion #houses #house tours #home tour #unfinished homes

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inkedwithcharm · 18 days ago

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The Pull Between Us | JJK

Chapter Five: Beneath the Surface

The weight of secrecy had begun to shift the shape of Jungkook’s days.

Where he once wandered the crystal halls of the Upper World with sketchbooks and wonder, now he moved like a shadow—calculated steps, quiet questions, late nights. Every hour was a layer in the plan he was building beneath the Authority’s nose.

They would come again, he knew.

But so would he.

Namjoon watched. Always from a distance.

He watched Jungkook return home later and later. Watched him pour over forbidden texts—some salvaged from their father’s archives, others smuggled by old connections from before the Borders closed. He saw the sparks in his brother’s eyes—not recklessness, but obsession. A need to reach something he couldn’t unsee now.

And he let him.

Even when reports landed on his desk, subtle and red-stamped.

Even when Council whispers warned him to watch his family.

Namjoon shielded Jungkook the only way he could: by becoming the wall between him and the system.

He approved the surveillance redirects. He rerouted the alerts. He silenced the dossiers.

But time was running out.

So he turned to the only man he knew who could operate both in shadow and light.

Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin arrived late into the Veil facility that night, crisp in his black Authority coat. His expression was unreadable, his beauty eerie in the sterile white glow.

To the guards, he was just another high-rank technician assigned by the Council to study Veil fluctuations.

To Yoongi, he was the only key left that could still turn both ways.

They met in the lowest chamber—under thick magnetic shielding, the kind that blocked every Authority sensor.

“You’re late,” Yoongi muttered without looking up from his holographic console.

“Fashionably,” Seokjin replied smoothly. “Besides, I had to bring you these.”

He tossed a sealed case onto the table. Inside, tightly packed files—codes, logs, secret resonance maps.

Yoongi blinked. “Veil decay algorithms… from the Inner Core?”

Seokjin nodded. “And classified entrypoint anomalies. Every unstable drift from the past decade.”

Yoongi exhaled. “This is what we needed to calculate a stable reverse-pull.”

“Which means,” Seokjin said carefully, “we can find a way to let someone from the Upper World cross into the Lower. Fully. Not just for seven minutes.”

Yoongi stiffened. “You’re saying Jungkook—”

“Is ready,” Seokjin cut in. “More ready than any of them realize.”

In his quarters, beneath false floor panels and locked behind retinal scans, Jungkook had built a hidden chamber. Not grand—just quiet. Lined with books from Yoongi’s early formulas and childhood stories Namjoon used to read him of bridges, rivers, and worlds flipped upside down.

He wasn’t trying to run away.

He was trying to connect.

Y/N’s voice echoed in his memory still. He had no way to send messages again. Not since the mirror snapped. But he believed—somehow—she was still waiting.

Tonight, he practiced again. The atmospheric suits Yoongi designed were still in prototype. Crossing full-body into the Lower World meant his body would be under dual gravitational pull—one searing into his muscles, the other pulling him backward like a tide trying to drown him.

Every simulation left him dizzy. Every attempt—closer.

Yoongi came and went silently, bringing updates, sharing notes, sketching potential breaklines. They said little, but their eyes spoke.

They were all in now.

On the other side, Y/N waited.

The Lower World had turned against her. Her lab sealed. Her research confiscated. People stared at her now like a danger, not a mind. But she never stopped listening—for the flicker of that Veil again. For any proof he hadn’t given up.

She, too, was preparing.

Building her own half of the formula.

They had begun the crossing.

Not just through the Veil.

But into each other’s lives so deeply, they would either build a bridge together—or fall through its fire.

Y/N hadn’t seen sunlight in days. Not because the Lower World lacked it—it never had it to begin with. But because she had sealed herself within the hollowed-out underground corridor of her grandmother’s old stonemill, where gravity faltered just enough to experiment without detection.

Jimin paced nearby, scribbling equations onto rusted metal siding with chalk and stained fingers.

“Three harmonics aligned,” he murmured. “But the decay rate still spikes after six minutes.”

Y/N didn’t answer immediately. Her back was to him, eyes locked on the projection of her latest simulation. Two gravitational waveforms pulsed across a dark schematic—Upper and Lower—like twin heartbeats out of sync.

The problem wasn’t entry.

The problem was staying.

Objects could survive brief traversals—Jungkook’s crossing proved that—but the gravitational fields would begin to reject foreign mass beyond the harmonization window. Y/N called it the burn margin. And if they couldn’t expand it, Jungkook wouldn’t survive more than seven minutes.

She exhaled, exhausted. “The resonant bridge fails if the harmonics diverge by even a tenth of a nanosecond.”

Jimin nodded, lips tightening. “So we sync the harmonics by building a third axis. A stabilizer.”

Y/N glanced at him. “You mean a bridge node?”

Jimin tossed her a grin—soft but tired. “That’s why you brought me in, right?”

They bent over the open panel of a gravity modulator salvaged from a failed mining rig. It was bulky and unstable, but it could be reprogrammed.

Hours passed. Equations merged with intuition. They failed. They calibrated. Failed again.

Until—

The waveform shifted.

A hum filled the corridor. Low. Steady. For the first time, Upper and Lower gravitational pulses moved in sync.

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest. “It’s holding.”

Jimin’s smile returned, wide and boyish. “We just made a tether.”

And somewhere, she felt it—deep in her ribs and bones—that Jungkook was building his end too.

The Authority’s Veil Core was buried under 170 meters of reinforced steel, nestled inside the bowels of Helix-9—the Upper World’s most secure facility.

Getting inside? Already difficult.

Disabling the sensor nodes that tracked gravitational signatures and data drift across the Veil?

Nearly impossible.

Which is why Kim Seokjin didn’t bother asking permission.

Yoongi, disguised in a lower-rank technician’s uniform, leaned over a console in Sublevel 4. His face was half-shadowed, but his hands moved with swift, elegant precision—rewriting command scripts beneath the Authority’s firewall.

Seokjin stood beside him, calm, calculating.

“Node seventeen is nearly disconnected,” Yoongi whispered. “We can rewire it to fake Veil stability for the next 12 hours.”

“That’s all they need,” Seokjin replied softly. “A twelve-hour silence. Long enough for the tether to stabilize.”

Yoongi’s fingers hovered over the execute key. “After this, we’ll be wanted men.”

Seokjin offered him a faint smirk. “We already are.”

Click.

The command went through.

A silent pulse flickered through the Veil Core. On the surface, it appeared functional. Stable. In truth, it had gone dark—no tracking, no alerts, no data flow to the Authority’s mainframe.

Seokjin turned to leave, voice low. “Get out through the eastern duct. I’ll cover your trail.”

Yoongi paused. “Why are you really doing this?”

A beat of silence.

Seokjin didn’t meet his eyes. “Because Namjoon asked me to protect Jungkook. And because I remember what it felt like… to dream of the world below.”

Yoongi stared after him, the past flickering behind his gaze. “Then let’s give them a chance.”

That night, Y/N climbed to the rooftop of the old stonemill, tether device in her hands, and turned it toward the sky.

The Veil shimmered faintly above—barely visible to the naked eye, but there.

She whispered, as if he could hear her:

“I’m ready when you are.”

And far above her, in a world made of glass and silence, Jungkook stared at the sky beneath his feet, tether device pulsing blue against his palm.

A bridge was forming.

And time—just barely—was on their side.

The room smelled like old paper and starlight.

Namjoon stood in front of the observation window, his back to the door, fingers clasped behind him. The vast curve of the Veil shimmered in the distance like a ghostly sea suspended above his world.

Behind him, the door slid open. Jungkook stepped inside, hesitant but determined.

Namjoon didn’t turn around immediately.

“I hear you’ve been working with Yoongi again,” Namjoon said quietly. “And Seokjin.”

Jungkook closed the door. “You knew?”

A faint smile touched Namjoon’s lips—tired, worn, but still fond. “You’re my brother. Of course I knew. I’ve known for weeks.”

That answer knocked the air out of Jungkook’s lungs.

“I thought you were… I thought you were going to report me.”

Namjoon finally turned, his expression unreadable. “I still might.”

Jungkook’s fists tightened at his sides. “Then let me explain before you do.”

There was a long silence. The tension of unspoken words, of history between them—brothers raised under legacy and duty—hung like a storm cloud between them.

“Go ahead,” Namjoon said at last.

Jungkook took a step closer.

“When I was a kid, I used to draw the sky beneath us and wonder what it felt like to walk on it. You remember that?”

“I do.”

“I thought it was just childish curiosity,” Jungkook said, voice low. “But it never went away. It got louder. Until one day… I saw her. Not a hallucination. Not a projection. A girl. Down there.”

Namjoon’s brow furrowed faintly, but he said nothing.

“She’s real, hyung. Her name is Y/N. And she’s trying to fix the Veil. Just like me.”

“You like her.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch. “Yes. But it’s not just about that. She’s proof that everything they told us about the Lower World is wrong. She’s brilliant. Brave. Human. Just like us.”

He stepped forward again, heart hammering. “I know what the Council expects of you. I know what our family expects of you. But I need you to hear me—not as a councilman. Not as a politician. But as my brother.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. He turned back toward the window, watching the Veil’s faint ripples.

“And what do you want from me?”

“Not permission. I’m past that.”

Jungkook’s voice trembled now, but not from fear—from conviction.

“I want you to understand why I have to do this. Even if it breaks the rules. Even if it costs me everything. Because maybe—if this works—it won’t just change my life. It’ll change everything.”

Namjoon stood silent, still as a statue. Then finally, he spoke—quietly.

“I watched you grow up with your head tilted toward the impossible. You were always dreaming. Always falling in love with things just out of reach.”

He turned, face unreadable.

“But if you fall now, Jungkook, you may not come back.”

“I know.”

Namjoon crossed the room. For a moment, it seemed like he might argue—might shut it all down.

Instead, he placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Then let me make sure the fall doesn’t kill you.”

[Later – Secret Meeting, Helix-9 Sublevel Archives]

Yoongi tapped ash from the edge of his cigarette onto a magnetic tray. He looked tired—eyes bloodshot, fingers stained from long nights and low light.

Seokjin leaned against a support beam, arms folded, watching Namjoon with cool calculation.

“You really mean to help him now?” Seokjin asked. “Isn’t this high treason, Councilman?”

Namjoon ignored the jab.

“He’s going to cross again,” he said simply. “With or without us.”

Yoongi took a drag and exhaled. “He’ll burn if he stays longer than the tether allows.”

“He knows that,” Namjoon said. “He’s not naïve. He’s just willing.”

Yoongi’s gaze narrowed. “And what about the family?”

“They’ll think he’s gone to the edge of the sky for art research. I’ll cover it.”

“And the Authority?” Seokjin asked, voice sharp. “They won’t fall for that twice.”

“I’ll keep the records clear for forty-eight hours,” Namjoon replied. “After that, I can’t guarantee anything.”

There was a silence among the three men.

Then Yoongi spoke again, voice lower this time. “What made you change your mind?”

Namjoon stared at the Veil schematic on the table. Its silver threads pulsed like a heartbeat.

“I saw what it did to him when he couldn’t speak to her. And I saw what he became when he could.”

He looked up.

“He’s not running away. He’s walking toward something the rest of us were too afraid to reach for.”

Seokjin nodded slowly, then pulled a small drive from his jacket pocket.

“Then let’s get him to her in one piece.”

Later that night, Namjoon sat with his mother in the grand solar chamber—bathed in light, draped in elegance, surrounded by ancestral portraits that stared down with judgmental grace.

His mother spoke. “You’ve been distant.”

“I’ve had a lot to manage,” Namjoon replied smoothly. “Preparations for Council appointment. And Jungkook’s request to leave for the Observatory Program.”

His mother arched a brow. “He never mentioned it to us.”

“It was last minute,” Namjoon said. “They invited him for an immersive art fellowship. Outer region research. He’ll be gone for… some time.”

“Do you trust him out there?”

Namjoon met his mother’s gaze, steady.

“I do. More than anyone.”

The room was dark, filled with rolled blueprints, sketches of the Veil, painted portraits of a girl with firelight in her eyes.

Jungkook stared down at the tether device glowing faintly in his hands.

Namjoon’s voice echoed in his memory:

“Whatever happens… don’t stop moving toward her. You belong to both skies now.”

Jungkook took a breath and whispered:

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

The Veil trembled.

It was still dark when Jungkook stepped onto the platform.

The stars above him blinked faintly, mirrored by the glow of his tether suit—an elegant mesh of ultralight polymers laced with gravitational dampeners, memory-threaded cables, and a stabilizer core designed by Yoongi himself. It looked sleek, almost weightless. But the truth was, it carried the burden of two worlds.

Every breath he took fogged in the cold air. Every heartbeat echoed like a countdown.

He hadn’t slept. Not since Namjoon handed him the encoded clearance slip, whispered, “You have twenty-three minutes. After that, even I can’t stop them.”

He’d said goodbye to no one.

Because this wasn’t a departure—it was a jump.

A fall.

Or maybe… a crossing.

Yoongi stood at the edge of the platform, checking the trajectory dial and atmospheric stabilizers one last time.

“Suit’s good. Tether will hold for twenty-three minutes and a half minutes max, depending on strain.” He hesitated. “After that, the gravitational pressure from the Lower World will start to burn your skin from the inside out.”

Jungkook gave a tight nod. “twenty-three minutes .That’s all I need.”

Yoongi looked at him, long and quiet. Then: “If she’s anything less than extraordinary, I’m dragging you back myself.”

Jungkook smiled faintly. “She’s the sky beneath my feet.”

Seokjin’s voice crackled in over the comm. “Initiating soft Veil disruption in five… four…”

The air around him buzzed—thin, almost musical.

The tether line, glowing silver, snapped tight with a low hum.

“…three… two…”

Jungkook stepped off the edge.

“…one.”

At first, it felt like floating.

The Veil was a whisper-thin membrane of polarized gravity, stretching endlessly between both worlds, its interior a prism of broken light and sound. As he moved through it, his body trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer unnaturalness of it.

He passed through clouds of magnetic vapor, each one crackling like static against his suit. The sound was surreal—like glass breaking underwater.

His breath quickened. The tether hummed with a growing strain.

Behind him, Upper World shrank into a curve of gold and white. Below, the Lower World drew closer—darker, more complex. Tangled with storms and steel spires that rose like scars toward the sky.

And in the center of it all was her.

Y/N.

He could feel her like gravity in his chest—pulling him downward, inward.

Then the pain started.

The tether strained. Sparks flickered across his back.

The first burn felt like a hot thread dragged across his spine. Then another across his ribs. His lungs seized. Blood roared in his ears.

“—Jungkook—” Yoongi’s voice broke through static. “—Veil pulse climbing—redirect vector before—”

Too late.

A gravitational reversal hit like a punch. His vision flashed white. His suit’s temperature regulators went red-hot, screaming silent warnings.

But Jungkook didn’t stop.

He grit his teeth, adjusted the angle of descent, and forced himself into freefall—shoulders tucked, arms tight, breath held. Six minutes now. Maybe five.

He saw the mountains of the Lower World—black and glittering.

He saw the outer edge of the old transmission towers where they used to speak.

And then—

He saw her.

Y/N stood with her hair tied back, Jimin beside her, watching the Veil ripple like water above the cliffs.

“There—!” she pointed, breath catching.

Something—someone—was falling through it, trailing silver and blue fire.

“Brace!” Jimin shouted, yanking the tether anchor to full tension.

The sky screamed.

And then—

Impact.

Jungkook hit the ground hard, rolling through metal shards and cold rock. Pain lanced through his legs. His suit groaned, the tether pulsing erratically.

Y/N ran.

And suddenly, there he was.

Gasping, coughing, bleeding—but real.

Jungkook looked up at her, his face smeared with Veil-burn and sweat.

Their eyes locked.

Time stopped.

“Y/N?” he rasped, as if afraid she might vanish.

She dropped to her knees, reached out with trembling fingers, and touched his face—tender, incredulous.

“You really came.”

He leaned into her palm like it was the first warmth he’d ever known.

“I had to.”

But the tether flared again—angrily now, warning him of its final stretch.

Jimin cursed. “One minute left—get him stabilized or he’s going to rupture!”

Y/N ripped open her backpack, pulling out a harmonization coil. “Help me sync the field!”

Jungkook’s eyes locked with hers. “I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t have a choice!”

“I crossed for you.”

She kissed him.

It was desperate, breathless, messy—gravity and tears and Veil static crackling around their mouths.

“I’ll fix it,” she whispered against him. “I promise. Next time… we meet here. And you stay.”

His arms tightened around her. “Next time.”

The tether snapped taut.

Jungkook’s body was yanked upward with violent force.

Their hands tore apart.

Y/N screamed his name.

He vanished into the light.

Gone.

The hum of surveillance drones echoed like flies in a jar.

A wall of screens flickered—each one capturing layers of the Upper World: street grids, sky lanes, Veil interference patterns. But on Screen 12, something pulsed red.

Veil Disruption.

Unauthorized. Traced.

Sector Twelve, early dawn.

Chief Enforcer Dareth leaned in, sharp-eyed and motionless as a hawk. His fingers tapped the panel. Zoomed. Scrubbed through infrared. Paused.

“Run thermal decay sequence.”

A junior analyst obeyed.

From the screen’s corner, a human figure plummeted—heat-traced, trailing a tether.

Dareth narrowed his eyes. “Playback frame 670. Enhance.”

The analyst hesitated. “That’s… not a cargo drone, sir.”

“I didn’t say it was.” His voice was flat.

Silence ticked.

And then: the frame enhanced. The figure became clearer—lean, armored, humanoid. Falling through the Veil.

The room held its breath.

Someone whispered, “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Dareth didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned toward the long shadows of the citadel corridor behind him—where unseen eyes always watched, and loyalty was a currency traded in whispers.

“Wake the High Council.”

Namjoon had barely stepped out of the sonic shower when the encrypted message lit up across his glass screen.

“Descent confirmed. Sector Twelve. Retrieval authorization imminent. One individual. Suspected bridge accomplices.”

His heart seized.

The face he’d spent months protecting was now outlined in Authority red.

He swiped it away.

“Damn it, Jungkook…”

The door behind him clicked open. Footsteps approached.

Seokjin entered, face unreadable beneath the shadows of early morning. His coat still carried the faint scent of Veil smoke—he had been with Yoongi. Underground again. Dangerous again.

Namjoon didn’t need to ask if he knew.

Seokjin sat on the armrest, crossed his legs, and spoke in a voice like twilight. “They have a list.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. “Names?”

“Not yours. Not mine.” His eyes flicked up. “But Yoongi, Y/N, Jimin, Hoseok even Jungkook. The Authority’s sweeping every bridge sector.”

“How long before they reach the Lower World?”

“Not long enough.”

Namjoon stood. His voice cracked. “We can’t let them touch Jungkook. Or her.”

Seokjin’s silence said everything.

They were running out of time.

Y/N didn’t sleep.

She stayed buried in algorithms and charts, her fingers blistered from calibrating the harmonization coil.

Jimin hovered nearby, pale and shaken. “You shouldn’t have stayed with him that long. The burn on your hands—”

“It was worth it,” she snapped.

Outside, Hoseok was monitoring seismic tremors from the Veil. “There’s movement above. Something big. A sweep.”

Y/N looked up.

“A raid?”

“Worse,” Hoseok said grimly. “They’re not sending machines this time. They’re sending people.”

Yoongi sat in a silver chair beneath piercing white lights.

His wrists were chained.

Across from him, a young Authority officer flipped through reports with clinical calm.

“You were seen near Sector Twelve three nights ago.”

“I’m seen a lot of places.”

“Not usually near a Veil breach site.”

Yoongi leaned back, unimpressed. “You must be desperate. Sending children to interrogate me now?”

The officer’s eyes narrowed.

Yoongi smiled faintly.

They didn’t know half of what he’d done. Or how deep the cracks already ran.

The wind howled over the perimeter towers. Skies blackened.

Interceptor drones moved in formation—silent, precise, deadly.

Inside one of them, Enforcer Dareth sat with a neural feed spliced into his brainstem, tracking all movement below.

His eyes locked on a specific location in the Lower World.

The old observatory. Veil residue. Human activity.

“Target found.”

Below, in the darkness of the ruins, Y/N froze as the air pulsed with electricity.

She looked up—

And saw the lights of Authority bearing down.

To be continued…

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angiehomesonline · 1 year ago

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Buy Orango console table design with mirror Online in India-Angie Homes

#Buy Orango console table design with mirror Online in India #console table #table

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toyastales · 2 days ago

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Everything is put together so well.

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kalyanamfurniture · 1 year ago

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Whether in the living area, bedroom or hallway – the Arizona sideboard can be placed in any room in your home. With its rustic exterior, it sets an individual accent and stands out from pure wooden furniture in an original way. Do not hesitate any longer: order the chest of drawers with doors today!

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anthonyed · 1 month ago

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the loaded avengers tower (alt title: tony stark gotta catch em all!)

it started with natasha actually. or maybe not. it was pepper calling tony for a meeting about a clean energy source and then a bunch of old asshats challenging his theory and tony said "how about this? in ten months, you'll see my name as your new guiding torchlight in the middle of new york and all of that would be from clean energy."

then he lit the tower up, held a champagne glass to celebrate for less than 20 seconds, then fast forward 24hours later, there is just an A up on his supposed middle finger up to stark industries shareholders - heck he even designed it to resemble a dick. well, as close as he could sneak that design in without pepper stop the funding at least

two months later, pepper left him. something about a break, not break up, tony. and tony could never understand that kind of recess in a relationship but he just rolled with it. so he got boring, got bruce a floor beneath his and the tower is all shiny and new again but he's got a side project going on, a big idea and all about regrouping and one day he caught the sight of the Jaeger in his closet and he realised he was smiling a second later in the mirror

shit, he thought, he actually missed natasha romanoff

so he decided to be subtle and sent virtual invites to all the other four avengers. thor never answered, rogers was left on read but the spy kids suprisingly decided to accept it. tony wasn't there the day they moved in. in fact he was oceans away in tokyo, sipping sake with t'chaka discussing vibranium but when he returned to the tower, he spotted a two video game consoles on the communal floor's coffee table and jarvis updating the increased number of occupants in the building

so yeah, it started with tony and his blasted ego but the rest of it - housing criminals and murderers - was all because of natasha

"she's my sister," natasha said in that tone which immediately raised tony's hackles up and shut his next question cause spy twins were spy triplets suddenly

yelena belova, came first, as an extended family of natasha then their apparent father who natasha really gives a lot of disgusted face to but guy could rival thor in his boiterous energy. maybe put those two together and it would be fantastic, or just calamitous to the entire new york city depending which way you wanna look at it

somehow, these two extended family addition made rogers think that he could bring his own stray in because tony was looking a murderous raccoon one morning as he exited the elevator and he stopped right where he was with a hushed, "jarvis?care to catch me up?"

in the next ten seconds, tony underwent an out of body experience between hearing "james buchanan barnes, sir" from jarvis and watching yelena belova tug the back of that murder raccoon's hair and push a steaming cup of something into his hand

coffee is that way, tony thought. coffee is that way, coffee is that way, i am here for coffee and coffee only do not look at me ohmygod pepper is gonna kill me

he got his coffee along with a rare steve rogers smile and a whispered "sorry i didn't tell you earlier," and then he was about to reply with something when another new face popped put of the elevator and tony pointed at him "who's that? who're you?"

sam wilson, rogers and said man answered and tony decided he's better off facing the crazies in the office than the bunch in the tower at that instant

someone had this saying about rescuing a stray once and you gonna keep doing that, or something along that line or another, tony's not really a literature enthusiast that was more of a pepper's forte which speaking off - pepper hasn't stepped back into the tower after that day they parted and they're still not broken up, she still cares, he still kisses her - it's all kinda status quo but she hasn't threatened him with murder yet, so that's good news

better news is thor coming back and they all went for a school trip to a hydra bunker where barnes went murder dog on half of their troop, shot strucker between the eyes, got the sceptor out along with three new shuffling baby mutants who stuck to his back like baby opossums

it was all kind of fascinating as well as mind blowing how it was a successful mision without a hulk out and a brand new three teenage occupants for the tower

"at this point, you might as well get pokeballs and run around yelling gotta catch em all" rhodey sniggered on one of his visits.

it was memorial day and he was plastered. so was rogers on an asgardian concoction with his head on tony's shoulder while bucky barnes sat on the longer couch further, fully sober with his loyal baby birds by his feet.

tony's personally grateful that he's not the one forced to be a foster dad to teenagers because he's too young for that kind of responsibilities but he's still impressed - very impressed as a matter of fact - with how barnes seem to be handling it all with a practised ease

later, steve would say it's cause bucky got used to caring for steve when he was skinny and sick and maybe there's a truth to that but those kids have their second favourite person as well; wanda with natasha, pietro with barton and bob surprisingly tags with yelena for an even longer period of time than he does with barnes

but nobody tells barnes that because than he would get jealous and a jealous barnes gets drunk and alexei always makes it his job to never let anyone be drunk on their own so they both would get drunk and everyone learned the hard way one time when they found the shooting rink thrashed to a point that tony refused to speak to any of them for three days - which for tony, is a personal record in all his 45years of living

speaking of too young for fatherhood though, one day bob comes home with a new teenager who appeared uncharacteriscally exuberant to see tony stark and tony kept seeing the boy quite often then onwards and he's called peter parker, living with his aunt may and he's going to school with bob and his best friend also includes ned and tony happened to learn all this in the next two weeks because bob is a menace with sad puppy eyes and peter is worse and maybe tony is becoming bucky barnes. either way, he got three of his own velcro babies attached to his side all of a sudden, shuffling along wherever he goes and sometimes he lead them to bruce's lab for distraction and makes his escape but he's happy -

he realises one day - walking into a bustling communal floor late one sunday with more people he can count on two of his hands and they are all his family; from 100 plus years old super humans and a norse god with his girlfriend and her friend and some occasional asgardian friendlies and reformed spies, teenage mutants and humans too, like sam and rhodey and these days, pepper comes by too whenever she feels like she can deal with all of this madness - that he is genuinely, for the first time ever in his life, happy

guess it was a great decision after all - building a clean penis tower in the middle of the new york city

#tony stark #the avengers #avengers 2012 #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts #included #og6 #canon divergence from 2012 timeline where people just start booking room in the tower under their name #aint beta only zeta #my writing #iron man #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tbh all of them in a bunker heh #natasha romanoff

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