Tumgik
#ive seen this a surprising amount the past few days
beniyazu · 11 months
Text
The amount of people (men?) so convinced -and like strangely obsessed the idea of- Mikasa dying "a virgin" is such a huge ick not to mention just plain dumb. Like.. I shouldn't entertain such nonsense but like ...the ending is right there for you to look at... She's literally with a man (I know it's Jean but even if it isn't) and a baby... in her old age you see her with the same man... she's buried with a ring on her finger... like what???¿¿?
5 notes · View notes
ipegchangbin · 1 year
Text
im back!! a few things i want to say:
firstly, HAVE YOU SEEN CHANGBIN HOLY FUCKVING SHIT
secondly, and most importantly, thank you.
very belated because i checked late, but i reached a huge milestone. somehow went overboard, too. without keeping this long and without disclosing numbers (im good at math, i just have terrible impostor syndrome), i just want to say that there are so many of you. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. the word “grateful” barely encompasses the amount of gratitude i have for you all. <3
honestly i havent been doing okay mentally and emotionally for so long. im not gonna air out my personal struggles to the internet, ill just simply say that its been bad. thankfully though, i was granted the chance to take an academic break and seek professional help so LETS FUCKING GOOOOO hopefully this will give me more time to properly fix myself and be more active on here :D
that being said, i tried to make something special for both the milestone and for coming back; i just mapped out two series ideas. theyre gonna be fully written but i havent gone past the outlines yet LMFAO one is a lighthearted romcom, the other is a mafia darkfic. both involve threeways and, of course, are dom!reader hehe. ill make a poll soon on which series to start first!
for now, expect a lot of new fics, new fanart, drabbles, and doodles. jisung and seungmin hard thoughts are long overdue and i have a couple of surprise fics, drawings, and aus coming up, dropping alongside the ones ive teased ^_~
also im seeing nct dream in concert omfg chenle is meeting me soon
Tumblr media
thanks for sticking by!! and thank you guys for EVERYTHING have the nicest day you all
28 notes · View notes
jiamiuxin · 1 year
Text
daiya no ace anime reflection/review
**spoilers!!**
im at a point in my life where i have a lot of free time at the end of the day and i find myself filling that slot with anime.
for the past two weeks, ace of the diamond has taken up a big portion of my mind as i found myself falling in love with the team and its players.
about a month ago was when i started a roll on watching sports anime. i caught up on haikyuu, binged blue lock and ao ashi, and finally spent another good chunk of time on free!!. ace of the diamond was no new title to me, yet for some reason i kept it on the back burner. i dont know why; whether it was the art style, the then-seemingly long list of episodes, or the fact that it was baseball. maybe it was all of them. when i burned myself out trying to find another anime, i finally settled on giving DnA a chance.
today, as i have finished all 176 episodes (no OVAs yet!) i confidently say it's one of my top, if not the top, anime ive seen so far.
i noted a few things as i progressed through the series: strong points, cons, favorite characters, and a few personal thoughts.
i will start off with the cons head on. daiya's is, i guess i could say, notorious? for its "annoying, loud, benchwarmer" MC. one genuine complaint i do have is the lack of animation quality in the third season. there were many still shots with voice overs, though i felt a little more satisfied with the animation towards the end. also, to a smaller extent, the anime is not as complete as the manga.
anyway, i think the slow burn is actually a strong point, as many others point out. indeed, it is the very low lows that make the highs so high. don't get me wrong, i love a stupidly powerful MC, such as mob psycho 100 or OPM, but the realism gives DnA its charm and relatability. when others say "season 1 is bad, season 2 is good, season 3 is amazing," they are not lying.
DnA's charm not only lies in its realism, but also its character development and character interactions. brotherhood, leadership, and teamwork are all themes throughout the anime. the way the third years cared for their juniors and the way the juniors fought to elongate their seniors' summers was beautiful, heart-wrenching, and gut-punching to me, a recent college graduate. these types of moments are not uncommon in sports anime, but something about DnA's execution made it so much more..emotional? relatable? whether it was due to convenient timing or the fact that the sheer amount of episodes made me feel like they were actually my own friends, i just felt so much more compelled when watching daiya.
on the topic of my personal emotions, as i said, the themes of graduating/retiring really hit home for me. but that made daiya all the more special to me. both personal relatability and just watching everyone's hard work made it so easy to sympathize with their determination. maybe it was the countless scenes of them heaving and gasping for air; or the scenes where TJ made their frustrations so visible and vulnerable. as a watcher, i did not see myself rooting for some characters in a show; normally, i'd take a normal stance with the expectations that the "of course, the MC team will win." i saw myself rooting for my friends. in addition, knowing TJ, we can never be too sure on how seido's games will actually go. everything comes down to the realism. it's daiya's realism that made me feel their passion, made them so relatable, and made it feel like they were actually at high stakes. i truly, rarely never cry when watching an anime. besides assassination classroom, no other anime has made me so emotional. not only that, but daiya made me cry several times. the amount of immersion is insane.
to no surprise, my favorite character is miyuki. he was the know-it-all. he was essentially the rock of seido with his calls. i often found myself wondering how strong seido would be without miyuki. no disrespect to ono; as he proved, and as kataoka also believes, ono is also reliable. but miyuki was just built different bro. anyway, i appreciated his character for not only baseball iq, but his rapid maturity into the captain role, and his flexibility with his juniors. i found his personality very admirable and his logical approach to situations both relatable and reliable. other characters i particularly were fond of were chris and kuramochi. if okumura had more screen time, i could also see him climbing up my list. as someone who had no prior baseball knowledge, daiya/seido as a whole, but particularly chris and miyuki, gave me a newfound respect for and fundmental understanding of baseball.
i think one last thing i wanted to note was that i really don't read manga. but for daiya, im definitely gonna pick up the manga now. i have never done this before for an anime, even others i really liked--hxh, haikyuu, one punch man, etc. i just never felt compelled to read the story further beyond the anime. but for daiya, this is something im willing to do. i just love it that much.
if you are having second thoughts or are debating on watching DnA, def watch it if you do not mind slow burn and can take a realistic approach. on the other hand, i do not recommend if you want to see an OP MC.
~
i am truly a nobody, especially not a professional anime critic LMFAO but i just wanted to vent my thoughts of daiya somewhere :) these are just my personal opinions
12 notes · View notes
cosmojjong · 4 years
Text
just want nonshawols AND shawols (because many shawols do, too) who treat jonghyun like a fictional character to fuck off
9 notes · View notes
httpjeon · 5 years
Text
SEHEBON ― KTH (M.)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis. you find yourself on izo huen, home to the sehebon. luckily for you, you've arrived at an interesting time.
Tumblr media
pairing. taehyung/reader genre. angst, fluff, smut au. alien!au wordcount. 16,580 contents. Huge Dick Tae, cocky!tae, soft!tae, protective!tae, lowkey possessive!tae, human!kink, slight harrassment, dom/sub themes, size kink, size difference, sensitivity kink?, orgasm kink?, cunt slapping, breath play, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, cumflation, belly bulging, lowkey consent kink, unrealistic sex but it’s aliens what do u expect, lots of mention of humanity note. tae just wants to learn human things ):
Tumblr media
blog masterlist. made of stardust masterlist.
Tumblr media
© httpjeon 2020. do not repost, modify, or translate.
Tumblr media
It had been a little over a half a year since your move to the Vela System of the Fanet IV Galaxy courtesy of the Interplanetary Relations Commission had begun. You were still adjusting to your new environment, Izo Huen being a vastly different place compared to Earth in terms of culture and climate.
"So, to wrap up the events of this past week," you shifted in your chair, staring into the lens of the camera you used to send reports to your superiors, "I met with the head of the Embassy for a dinner in order to meet the head of Izo Huen's military. The only way I can describe the whole interaction is...tense. Warrior Sehebon are truly another level of terrifying. Horrible burns across their bodies correlate with the information we had about their rituals. They wear the burns with pride, however ― a mark of bravery I suppose. The middle of the week was rather uneventful," you shifted in your seat, leaning over just out of frame to take a sip of your water. You stared at the arched ceiling, thinking of anything that could come to mind of importance to note. Outside your window, you could see people walking through the streets, laughing and chatting with one another.
"Oh!" you sat up straight again, "The monthly market came back once again. This time it was mostly vendors from Liana. They had the most amazing fruits I'd ever seen ― nothing like Earths. They were delicious too, so sweet. I wish I could send some back for everyone to be able to taste. You know," your gaze shifted out your window again, to the people bustling about, "Things got really hectic here in Fia recently, I don't know what it is. They're hanging banners up and there seems to have been an extreme increase in population of the city. I'm not completely sure what's going on."
After ending your weekly log and sending it to your fellow researchers on Earth, you downed the rest of your water and groaned. Izo Huen was sweltering hot, the two suns that hung in the sky upping the temperature past comfortable.
You couldn't wait for night to come, the freezing cold giving you a wonderful excuse to cuddle under the wool blankets.You decided to take a bath to pass the time, as it would be night in just a few hours. Plus, you desperately wanted to wash the days grime off your body.
By the time you woke up the next day, you were acutely aware of how incredibly loud it was outside. Shouts and cheers emanated from just outside your window. So with sleep-filled eyes you hurriedly dressed yourself and rushed out to see what the fuss was all about.When you stepped out of the door, you were shocked by the incredible crowd of people filling the streets.
Banners and streamers, even balloons, decorated every inch that could be covered. The alphabet was one you hadn't yet learned to decipher so the meanings were completely lost on you.
"Excuse me?" you asked a nearby woman. She was much taller than you ― a key trait in both men and women of their race. She turned and looked down at you with surprise in her eyes, "What's going on?"
"It's the pre-celebration," she answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She turned her back to you once again and quickly disappeared into the crowd and you sighed. Sehebon citizens were still getting used to their planet being visited by other races outside their own solar system ― they were the newest planet to be opened for visits by the Interplanetary Commission.
It unfortunately resulted in some of the citizens to hold ill feelings towards those entering their cities.
Sighing, you decided to follow the flow of the crowd to appease your own rabid curiosity. A lot of the cultural information on Sehebon had yet to be discovered or disclosed, as a race that held their own traditions close to their hearts.
You were surprised that the place everyone was flocking to was the massive Colosseum that was centered in the very middle of the city. Larger than any stadium found on Earth, you'd never had the opportunity to find out what it was for.
In your excitement to get through the crowd of large Sehebon, you stumbled over your own feet and hit the ground hard ― knocking the air out of you. The crowd didn't wait, stepping over you and for a second you were scared you would be literally crushed under a stampede.
However, strong hands grabbed your arms and lifted you up, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the crowd. You stumbled trying to catch up, with his large steps while trying not to end up slammed into unsuspecting people.
The person tugging you pulled you out of the crowd and rounding the stone walls until you realized the amount of people had dissipated. You had the opportunity to look at the person who had helped you ― a male Sehebon finding a safe spot for you and finally slowing down.
"I...thank you," you muttered when he didn't say anything, his back still facing you.
"You're a human right?" he asked, finally turning to you. You choked on your own spit at the sight of him ― black hair hanging over two pretty dark eyes. He was tall, probably a little above average for his race and he was absolutely gorgeous, "I heard there was one staying in Fia but...damn."
"Uh...I'm an advocate for the Interplanetary Commission," you sputtered out, unable to break your gaze away from his face. He had tanned skin, smooth as could be with a jaw so sharp it could cut glass, "I'm from Earth, yes. My name is _____."
"Incredible," he moved closer, having to lean down to look at you how he wanted. You could feel his breath on your face and you could see the way he had one mono-lid and one double ― which was absolutely adorable, "My name is Taehyung...you know, you're so...small."
"I-I'm actually quite average," you refuted, glancing away under the power of his gaze.
"Maybe by human standards but..." he straightened up, looking around, "You should be careful. You can get hurt easily, you're lucky I saw you fall and bothered to help you."
"Bothered..." you whispered with a soft scoff. You could still feel his eyes on you, burning into you as if he was analyzing every inch of you, "Hey, so what's going on anyway?"
"You don't know?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow when you shook your head.
"I asked someone and she just said it was a pre-celebration," you shrugged.
"Yeah sort of," Taehyung gnawed at the inside of his cheek, jaw cocking to one side at the action, "It's gonna be our lottery in a few days so we come to the stadium to get our tickets."
"Wait...lottery? Like a money thing?" you asked, "You guys have that?"
"What?" Taehyung shook his head, staring at you like you were stupid and you suddenly felt embarrassed.
"O-On Earth we have this thing called a lottery and...you scratch these little papers and you can win money," you explained, hoping to help him make sense of you assumption.
"Huh, that's interesting," he actually did seem interested and maybe a little impressed, making you feel weirdly proud, "But no, that's not what we have. Once a year the government holds a lottery here in Fia, in the stadium. You draw and if your number is picked you gotta fight."
His words made you blank out.
Fight?
They had to fight?
"What the hell?" you sputtered before you could stop yourself and Taehyung cocked his head to the side.
"Have you not read any of the banners and information sheets floating around?" he asked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, "They put them up to inform new visitors of what's going on, you know."
"I..." you cleared your throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed again, "Can't read the alphabet."
Taehyung went quiet for a minute before he snorted, beginning to laugh way too much for the simple problem you had. Your cheeks burned as he held his stomach, no doubt aching from how hard he was laughing.
"Oh my gosh!" he choked, wiping under his eyes, "Y-You're illiterate!"
"I am not illiterate!" you gasped, ears beginning to burn now at his accusation, "I-I just haven't had a need to read the alphabet! Since we speak the same language, you know?!"
"Okay, okay," he sniffled, finally calming down from his outburst. He looked down at you and cooed, placing his hand on your head, "Aw, don't-don't pout, I'm sorry. You're so cute!"
"St-Stop making fun of me!" you whined, petulantly stomping your foot which just made him coo more at you, calling you cute.
"I'm not making fun of you!" he argued, standing at his full height again, making you look up, "Isn't it only natural that I find the small little human girl cute? You're so...small."
"So you keep saying," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, "Are you going to go into the stadium?"
"Yeah, probably a little while later," he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, "It'll calm down soon enough and it'll be less hectic. You're welcome to wait with me, if you'd like."
"I might as well," you sighed, leaning back so you rested your shoulder against the wall, "I'll probably literally be killed if I try to go in there at this point."
"Probably," he agreed, looking away from you when you squinted up to glare at him, "Say..." He looked back at you, head cocked to the side curiously, "Is it true Earth has a lot of oceans? And only one Sun?"
"Eh? Yeah, that's right," you nodded, making him hum, "You've never been to Earth?"
"Nah, can't afford to make that trip," he sighed, sliding down the side of the wall to sit on the ground, "I read about it when the news that we'd be open for visits from them, though. Here sit," he tugged your hand until you were finally sitting beside him.
"About this...fight," his head lulled to the side as he gazed at your through his lashes, "What...why do you guys do it? How's it work?"
"Well," he rested his hands on his bent knees, head resting against the wall behind him again, "You know majority of our planet is uninhabitable right?"
"Yeah, dominated by deadly deserts that will kill even Sehebon," you replied mechanically, having studied their landscape immensely on your voyage from Earth.
"Then you also know there's only a few, select places suitable for us to live," you nodded and he continued, "We have three cities on Izu Huen, Fia our capitol, Veles, and Holis. That isn't a lot of room for an entire planet to live, right? We have to stay within the habitable zone and fit every person on the planet in the cities. Excluding those that have the means to move to Vimoldara, that is. That's a lot of people, isn't it?"
"Wait," you sat up straighter, jaw dropping open, "You mean, it's a form of population control?"
"That and," his gaze turned much darker, sending a chill up your spine, "It's a chance for us to show each other how strong we are. That we're the best and we deserve to live, we offer more. Those who lose are killed and only the winner can stand."
"That's..." you cleared your throat uncomfortably, "That's scary."
"Not for us," Taehyung shrugged, casting a sideways glance your way, "It's a celebration. We're all excited and ready to do it. We get to make our families and ancestors proud as we fight."
You hummed, still weary of the lottery but kept the rest of your opinions to yourself. You and Taehyung dissolved into talking about things he was curious about on Earth, deciding it would be worth it to travel there simply after hearing what a cheeseburger was.
The suns began to set when Taehyung stood, helping you to your feet.
"We should be able to get in easily now," you followed him to the large entrance that you'd been unable to see past when you had first approached.
With the smaller influx of people, you could see fully inside the stadium. There were banners and decorations strewn about everywhere, a wash of white, red and black colors seeming to be the theme. In the very center of the stadium was a booth with a man standing inside, handing things out to the people in line.
"I hope he doesn't think I'm here to pick a lottery," you mumbled to yourself as you stood in line with Taehyung. He was still holding onto your hand as you waited, large fingers wrapping completely around your wrist, making the size difference more apparent.
He really was right when he said you were small. But his hand was so warm and comforting against your skin that it made you feel...cute.
"Nah, they won't assume a foreigner is here to participate," he said, not breaking his gaze from the booth.
By the time you reached the booth, the suns were down to just peeking over the horizon and the moon was, instead, shining large in the sky. The temperature was dropping and you couldn't help but move closer to Taehyung for warmth. You weren’t dressed to be out at night, you’d only anticipated spending the daytime hours out.
"Thank you," he said, tucking a slip of paper into his pocket after folding it up. The man behind the booth nodded, waving the next person forwards.
He began to walk when he paused, looking down at you with wide eyes. You scrambled to detach yourself from his side, not realizing just how close you were to him. However, you were quickly brought back when he pulled you flush against him again with a small smile.
"You humans are so fragile," he breathed, beginning walk, keeping you tucked into his side. Your face was burning with embarrassment but you also felt a strange sense of pride flowing through you at the prospect of such a good looking man treating you like he was.
"I-It just gets really cold here, you know?" you mumbled, trying to defend yourself albeit weakly.
His chest vibrated with his laughter, tightening his hold around your shoulders, "I guess if you're not used to it. You live around here?"
"Uh yeah," you pointed in the general direction of where you were staying, "I live down this road a ways."
"Alright, I'll walk you there," he offered, though he left no option to refuse.
You both fell silent as you walked, every once in a while another person would pass and stare at the two of you. Their eyes followed you even as you passed, turning back to stare at you and you began to feel strange about it.
"Why is everyone looking at us like that?" you asked suddenly, making him look down. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his face causing the shadow of his lashes to dust his cheeks.
"Probably because you're a human and you're with me," he answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "It's not exactly common for Sehebon and foreigners to be together yet."
You swallowed thickly, cheeks burning for the thousandth time that day it seemed.
It wasn't long before you reached the stoop of your house and you dislodged yourself from Taehyung, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep in the warmth you now missed.
"Um thanks for walking me home," you said, shrugging your shoulders self-consciously as his eyes scanned over your body.
"It was my pleasure," he leaned closer to you, "Hey, why don't you come to the celebration in a couple days, hm?"
"You mean the fighting?" you asked, feeling uneasy at the invitation. He nodded eagerly, eyes bright in excitement, "Taehyung, I do understand it's an important practice for you...it's your culture. But humans and Earth...it's punishable to kill someone. It's against the law. We find the concept of death scary...you know?"
His head cocked to the side, brows furrowed and the excitement in his eyes gone, "You're scared to die? And you don't like to see others die?"
"Exactly, it's...it's a very negative thing for humans," you attempted to explain while trying not to upset him.
"You know being invited to a fight is a very special thing," he muttered with a frown, leaning close to you so his nose was touching yours. Your eyes grew wide at the fire burning in his eyes and you swallowed nervously, "It's very offensive to reject an invitation to a fight. I want to show you how good I am, how well I can fight. I want you to be proud of me. Impressed by me."
Your mouth grew dry at his words and the way he uttered them, deep voice dark and no hint of the gentleness he had spoken with before. You attempted to move back but found your back pressed against the door. He loomed over you, leaning on his forearms above your head ― caging you in. Strangely, the only thing you could think of was how good he smelled; like the fruits you'd eaten a couple days ago.
"I-I'm sorry, Taehyung," you whispered, licking your lips in an effort to rid yourself of your nerves, "I just...Y-You don't need to kill someone t-to impress me, you know?"
"Then how can I?" he squinted, "I find you fascinating. A cute little human girl, smart and charming. I want to...what is it you humans call it...court you?"
You wanted to smile at the sound of the outdated term he used. But it was stopped by his confession, of what he thought of you.
"W-Well...you're trying to court a human girl..." you spoke slowly, meeting his eyes in faux confidence even though your heart was beating a mile a minute, "Why don't you try...a human method?"
"A human method," he gnawed on the inside of his cheek ― apparently a habit he had while thinking, "What are human methods?"
"Well um..." you noticed that with his body covering yours like it was, you weren't affected by the cold and that your trembles were no doubt excitement, "Like...dates. Do you guys have dates?"
"Usually an invitation to fight for someone to see is sufficient enough to begin a relationship," he explained, making you sigh. He frowned at the sound and leaned closer to you to meet your gaze, "Tell me what to do and I'll do it."
"F-For humans usually a man will ask a woman on a date," you explained simply, "Like...you would ask to take me to see a movie or take me to dinner."
"A dinner," he repeated, seeming to mull it over for a moment before nodding. The dark look was gone and he smiled the cutest boxy smile you'd ever seen in your life, "Then I'd like to take you to dinner, _____."
"I'd like that, Taehyung," you smiled, feeling your cheeks burn under his soft gaze.
"After my fight, to celebrate my win I'll take you."
"Alright, Taehyung, I look forward to it," after what seemed like an eternity, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes, he finally stood up straight. The cold immediately began to sink into your bones and he stepped back off your stoop.
"See you soon, cutie," he waved, twiddling his fingers before spinning on his heel and walking in the direction you both had just came from.
You opened your front door, slipping inside and relaxing once the warmth hit you. Leaning back against the door, you pressed your hand to your chest and sighed.
"Not how I expected my day to turn out," you mumbled, taking a seat at your chair in front of the camera, turning it on so the red light blinked indicating recording, "I know it hasn't been a week yet but I've found something interesting. I met a man named Taehyung and he told that they're about to begin a planet-wide lottery. Everyone draws a number and they're picked to fight. It's a...form of population control and some kind of cultural flex on each other to show who is the toughest and bravest. The fights are set to take place in a few days and I was invited but...I had to decline. The prospect of watching it was just too much for me to consider so I apologize for that."
You went quiet for a second, deciding to leave out the fact that the invitation was an attempt to ask you out. You greeted the people who would be watched goodbye and shut off the camera, turning to your computer monitor and hurriedly sending the video before shutting everything down.
The city was quiet for the next few days, everyone packed into the stadium. You would frequently hear the thunderous roar of the crowd but ultimately did your best to block out the prospect of the death no doubt going on.
You laid on your bed, reading a book you'd read several times already but lacked the means to acquire a new one. You wouldn't be able to read the books in an alphabet you couldn't read. Though you could take the time to learn but, you were in no mood to study.
As expected, you found yourself thinking of Taehyung. He was charming, no doubt, and you were surprised by how much you ultimately enjoyed his company. It was quick that he decided he wanted to date you, by human standards anyway, but Sehebon were very fast-moving people as more than half their race were warriors who could be killed in the blink of an eye. No doubt a cause for Taehyung's rush to be with you.
You couldn't deny the complete attraction you had for him; he was incredibly good looking and had the cutest smile. His voice was hypnotic, smooth as whiskey and as deep as the ocean. Dating someone of a completely different species wasn't the strangest thing by far ― plenty of humans had counterparts from different races. Dating a Sehebon, on the other hand, was different since the brand new introduction of their race to humans.
There was no fear that Taehyung would bring you any harm or have ill intentions, there was just a lot of confusion about him. You didn't exactly know much about who he was as a person rather than his race.
The date would no doubt clear things up and open doors for you.
Remembering the fact you would be going on a date with him set butterflies off in your tummy and you bit your lip to hold back the gleeful grin that threatened to spread across your face.
Tumblr media
It was a full week before the streets became the same again. The population of Fia went back to normal as visitors from other cities left and went back home. The banners were taken down from around your street and before long everything seemed to have returned to the way it was.
Unfortunately, you were running out of food so you needed to go food shopping. As the suns were beginning to set, with the temperature steadily dropping, is when you decided to go shopping.
You slid a sweater on to keep you warm before stepping out the door. It was still a little warm but you knew you'd be grateful for your choice later.
In the past, you'd made the mistake of forgoing something warm and had to quite literally run home before you froze to death.
You carried a bag, an effect from when you lived on Earth and refused to use plastic bags in fear they'd end up in the oceans. When you first presented the bag at the local grocers, the cashier had looked at you like you were stupid ― making you feel just a tad self-conscious.
Fortunately, they'd now grown used to your practice and barely batted an eye in response when you brought.
The shop wasn't busy during that time of day and you were thankful to be able to navigate the aisles without having to avoid the giant Sehebon people that easily blocked your shelf access. You packed your bag with things you were vaguely familiar with. There was a lot of food you didn't dare try ― you couldn't read what it said or it was just gross looking.
Unfortunately, however, the shelves were so damn tall that you sometimes had to scale them to actually reach the things you needed. Standing on your tippy-toes using one of the shelves to grab a simple box of noodles ― something you were very pleased to find on Izo Huen.
You chose a lot of fruits and vegetables ― trusting them more than their alien-meats. You were basically the alien version of a vegetarian at that point.
When you stepped outside, you were immediately grateful of the sweater you wore. The cold still seemed to seep in a bit but it was tolerable despite the light shivers that took you. Carrying your bag, you hummed a tune to yourself as you navigated the darkening streets. The lamps were lit to illuminate your way but there were no other people in sight, making you feel calm.
"Hey, you a human?" scratch that, there were people.
You paused, looking into an alleyway separating two residential streets. A small group of young men were smoking cigarettes. Part of you wondered if they were cigarettes or some Izo Huen-version.
"Yes I'm a human," you replied, pulling your bag off your shoulder to hold it in front of you.
"You want a hit?" one of them asked you, offering you what he was smoking off of.
"N-No thank you," you backed away slightly to get away from the smoke emanating off the burning end, "I really should be getting home...I have things to put away."
You turned to walk away but a hand aggressively gripped your arm to stop you, startling a gasp out of you.
"Hey, that hurts," you mumbled, attempting to tug your arm free but he tugged you closer to him, "Let go!"
Before he had the chance to speak, a hand was violently wrapped around his throat and slammed him back. He pulled you with him slightly, knocking you to the ground as the man was pinned to the wall. Looking up, you could see Taehyung leaning close to him ― whispering something that had the man's eyes widening.
"Do you understand?" Taehyung growled, loud enough for you to hear. The man nodded so hard you were sure he was going to give himself a headache. Taehyung held him still for several more seconds, looking over him to make sure he was telling the truth.
When the man was dropped, he took off down the alleyway with his friends following, none of them daring to look back.
"Are you alright?" he asked, crouching down to where you were sitting on the ground. He cupped your cheek ever so softly, thumb grazing beneath your eye, "I didn't mean for you to get knocked down."
"It's alright," you muttered, using his shoulders to pull yourself back to your feet. He remained crouched for a moment, just gazing up at you silently, "W-What is it?"
"You should be more careful, _____," he said, picking up the bag of groceries you had dropped, tucking some of the things that had been knocked out back in where they belonged, "Didn't I tell you that you could get hurt?"
"W-Well yes but that was different― "
"It wasn't," he snapped, moving close to you once again. Fingers hooked beneath your chin to make you look at him, "Don't you understand how much people want you? How they look at you when you walk around?"
"N-No..." you blinked as you tried to recall any staring while you were on your own.
"Everyone finds you alluring here, _____," Taehyung's voice dropped and he stepped even closer so your foreheads were just barely touching, "The cute little human girl. And I'd be very disappointed if I had to kill someone for hurting you."
You were speechless, lost staring in the fiery blaze within his eyes. He held your gaze for several seconds before stepping back and smiling.
"I'll walk you home, I was on my way to see you anyway," you sputtered in shock as he tugged your hand in the direction of your home ― his rapid change of demeanor no doubt going to give you whiplash.
Your feet pounded the pavement as you struggled to keep up with his large strides. You were running out of breath and stamina, though he appeared unaffected.
"T-Tae...can you s-slow down?" he halted in his tracks so suddenly that you fully ran into his back.
"What did you call me?" he looked over his shoulder, staring sharply down at you.
"I-I..." you pulled yourself away from his back and stuttered, "I called you Tae. I'm sorry i-it just slipped out...h-humans like to make n-nicknames, you know?"
He was quiet for a second before he turned around completely, cocking his head to the side.
"Say it again," he commanded.
"Uh...T-Tae?" the name sounded more awkward than it had before coming out of your mouth.
"Hmm," he made a noise akin to a moan, rolling his head back in response before looking down and smirking, "I like that. You're the only one allowed to call me that, yeah?"
"A-Alright," your heart was racing from the way he had reacted to the nickname but you didn't get to dwell on it long before he was tugging you along once again.
You stood on your stoop again, looking at Taehyung, a small smile on his lips as he watched you. He held your bag of groceries out for you and you had to hold back a gasp when your hand brushed his.
"Shit, your hands are freezing!" he gasped, taking one of your hands in his and bringing them closer to him.
"U-Uh yeah it's...pretty cold," your words came out a whisper, reveling in how warm his hands were against yours.
"Poor thing," your eyes widened as he pulled your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your fingers.
"T-Tae," the nickname had his eyes flicking up and he hummed, pressing another kiss against them.
"Did you like that?" he dropped your hand from his lips but continued to hold it, smiling at you, "I read in a book about common human practices for courting and it said a kiss to the hand will make her heart flutter. Did it work?"
"I..." you swallowed thickly, nodding your head ever so slightly, "I-It was nice, Tae..."
The two of you fell quiet, his hand enveloping yours and his soft gaze fixated on you. Your groceries hung in his free hand and he slowly reached out to hand them to you once again. Once the bag was in your hands, he released your hand from his hold and shoved his own into his pockets. He stepped backwards off the stoop but continued to stare at you, bottom lip tucked in his mouth.
Your eyes danced over his body ― never really looking him over that much besides his face. He had a black button-up tucked into tight fitting jeans and boots that made him even taller than he already was. It surprised you how thick his thighs were but how small his waist was ― it's like he was sculpted by actual gods.
"Well," he smirked, no doubt having caught you staring, "See you around, cutie."
"Hey, Tae wait!" you called before you could stop yourself.
He halted immediately, turning to look at you once again, "You alright?"
"I just..." he jogged back to the stoop, stepping up and moving close to yours.
He cupped your chin between his fingers and made you look up at him.
"You can tell me, sweetheart," his brows were drawn together in concern.
The pet name causing a shiver to go down your spine, "What is it?"
"C-Can...Would you...like to stay for a while?" your cheeks were on fire and you couldn't meet his gaze after whispering the words.
Taehyung's eyes softened and his lips quirked up, running his thumb over your lips for a split second ― so light you almost missed it. He stood up straighter, removing his fingers from your face. You found yourself missing the touch and your heart was pounding at the possible rejection you could face.
"Were you nervous to ask me that, baby?" your core lit on fire at the new pet name and you held in a whimper, "I'd love to stay with you."
"O-Okay..." you reached behind you, turning the knob and pushing the door open.
Warmth hit you from the inside and you scurried out of Taehyung's view as fast as you could to the kitchen. You could hear him walking, the sound of his boots on the floor seeming deafening in the silence of the house. Leaning against the counter, you took a few deep breaths to steady yourself.
You began putting your groceries away in their designated places, noticing that Taehyung's footsteps had gone silent.
"This place given to you by your job?" he asked suddenly, making you jump.
"Um...yeah," you cleared your throat, "It's nothing special but it's cozy."
"It's nice," he muttered before falling silent.
You placed the box of noodles in your cabinet, steeling yourself before moving to the living room. Your brain nearly short-circuited at the sight before you.
Taehyung sat on your couch, legs spread wide and arms stretched out on the back of the couch. His head was tilted back, exposing beautiful expanse of throat. The way he sat was so confident and commanding that you had to clench your thighs together to control yourself.
"Um...are you okay?" you whispered, stepping forward as he lifted his head to look at you.
"I'm perfect," he responded, scooting to the side to allow you to sit beside him, "I think I've figured out a place to take you on our date."
"Oh?" you'd nearly forgotten about the date, "So you're ready to take me?"
"I'm thinking tomorrow, if that's okay," he looked down at you and you smiled.
"I'd love that," your gaze fell to your thighs, noticing the size difference between his and yours ― reminding you of how large he was.
Flicking your eyes up, you were frozen by the sharpness in his own as he stared at you. As you kept his gaze, you felt one of his hands find its way to your thigh and you bit your lip to keep from outright whimpering at the feeling.
"You're so soft," he muttered, shifting to turn more towards you, "And absolutely breathtaking..."
His lips drew closer to yours, his hair brushing your nose as he dipped down. When he pressed them completely, his hand tightened around your thigh. You whimpered, seeming to set Taehyung off as he cupped the back of your head with his free hand ― deepening the kiss.
Your hands clutched at the front of his shirt, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips and hands on you. The hand on your thigh traveled up, grazing your hip, drifting up your stomach and over your breasts before wrapping around your throat. You gasped at the feeling, lips parting from Taehyung's just slightly before you surged back forward to reconnect them.
He groaned against your lips, giving your neck the lightest squeeze before he released you and reached lower to cup your breast through your sweater. You arched your back into the muffled touch but he didn't linger for long because his hand was diving between your legs.
Your jeans impeded you from feeling his touch properly and you whimpered, grinding your hips forward in hopes to remedy the problem. You reached down, holding his hand against your core as you whimpered into his lips.
"Do you want me to touch you, pretty baby?" he asked, kiss parting until your lips just barely brushed his.
"P-Please Tae," you whimpered, feeling your eyes sting with tears of desperation ― having never wanted to be touched so badly in your life.
Taehyung didn't reconnect the kiss, instead he tilted your head back to press his lips to your neck. His long fingers unbuttoned your jeans and hurriedly tugged them off your hips until you finally reached down to pull them off completely, tossing them away.
The way you cried out when his hand cupped you again, this time through your panties, was nothing less than lewd. He tugged your thighs open further, one of them resting across his own, leaving you completely open to his fingers.
"Sound so pretty," he mumbled, teeth grazing your neck where he continued to mouth at you.
You wrapped one hand around his wrist, dragging his fingers up ever so slightly until you were able to push them past the band of your panties. He immediately took over, fingers diving between your folds to find just how wet you were for him. He groaned, pulling away from your neck to meet your gaze, his lips open just slightly as he brushed against your clit. Your hips twitched and you found yourself clinging to his arm as you whined.
"So sensitive, little one," he whispered, wrapping his free hand around your thigh to pull you even closer to him until you were completely in his lap with your back tucked to his chest.
"Tae..." you whispered, eyes fluttering closed when he began to press kisses to your shoulder ― the sweater not allowing you to feel it properly but enjoying it nonetheless.
"Yeah baby?" he cooed, resting his chin on your shoulder to watch his hand move beneath the fabric of your panties.
"C-Can..." you trailed off, feeling your cheeks burn and he tsked.
"Tell me what you want and I'll do it, baby," he assured, fingers now running across your folds without dipping between ― teasing you.
"Can you...take them off?" you asked, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze.
"If that's what you want," he pulled his hand out of your panties and you whimpered at the loss, making him chuckle, "So needy, huh?"
His thumbs hooked into the band and he pushed them down your thighs. You pulled your legs up to help him take them off ― tossing them off somewhere else to join your jeans. He gripped your knees, roughly tugging them open until your cunt was completely exposed to him ― glistening in the dim light and flushed swollen with your arousal.
"Fuck, babygirl..." he breathed, reaching down to run his fingertips through your parted folds, "Such a pretty little pussy, hm?"
Deep in your mind, you wondered where he learned such delicious dirty talk from ― seeing as he didn't even know the proper word for courting. The thought was completely wiped from your mind, however, when he used two fingers to spread your folds open. Your hole clenched around nothing and Taehyung let out a choked groan.
"St-Stop staring!" you whined, snapping your thighs closed around his hand.
Taehyung growled, wrapping his hand around your throat again and pulling the back of your head against his chest. You whimpered, eyes flicking up to briefly catch his glare. His jaw was set, glaring down at you with a gaze that made you feel incredible small.
"Spread your fucking legs," he ordered, tone making your eyes flutter slightly. When you hesitated to do as he said, he leaned closer until his mouth brushed your ear, "I said...spread your legs."
You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you pouted, slowly opening your legs back up. Too slow for his liking, he jerked one open and pinned the other down until you were just as exposed as before. His hand cupped your entire core, middle finger sliding between the folds.
"That's more like it," he sighed, finally releasing your neck, "You better act right, baby, or else I'll have to punish you."
His words made you tremble, thighs twitching ever so slightly. He raised a brow at your reaction, an almost detached look coming across his face.
"Would you like that? To be punished?" when you only whimpered, he smirked, "I see...how would you like it, hm? To be choked until your lungs burn for air? Or maybe if I spanked your little cunt?"
"Tae..." you felt your hole clench, sending a gush of arousal to meet his fingers.
"Oh?" he chuckled, making you cheeks burn, "You'd like to be slapped, huh?"
Before you could even think up a reply from your foggy brain, a sharp pain right against your clit had you crying out. Your eyes found his face but he was watching as he smacked your cunt again. His fingers ran over your folds to soothe the sting and he laughed.
"Interesting..." he hummed, middle finger circling around your clit. Your eyes fluttered and your hips arched into the touch more.
His index and ring fingers spread your folds, his middle finger swirling over the hardened bud until you were moaning. He pulled the hood back, exposing it even more to his sensitive touches. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you choked out his name.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, "Does it feel nice to have your little clit touched?"
"Y-Yes!" you squeaked, reaching down to take hold of his wrist. Your body was practically vibrating as you trembled beneath the almost too much stimulation. Suddenly, his touch was gone and you were left still trembling with the remnants of his fingers lingering.
"It's alright," he cooed, wrapping one of his arms around you to hold you tighter against him, "I've got you, little one."
"Please, Tae," you begged, burying your face into his arm, thighs trembling still spread.
"What is it?" he asked, voice soft as silk.
"Your...Your fingers," you canted your hips up ever so slightly and he hummed.
"Want my fingers inside?" he asked, although he already knew before you nodded.
He hummed, two fingers finding your spasming entrance, coating them in your juices. You held your breath as he finally sunk them inside you, stretching you deliciously even though you were plenty wet enough. His fingers were big, filling you up nice and deep. Gasping against Taehyung's arm, you mindlessly ground your hips up as he slowly pulled them out. You didn't get to mourn their loss for long because he was quickly pushing them back in ― slick sounds accompanying the movement.
"You're so fucking tight," he muttered, "So small...Shit, how long has it been since you've been fucked, pretty girl?"
"Ah-Never..." you gasped, hand circling around his wrist as you squirmed.
His fingers paused, halfway inside and you whined, "You've never been with somebody?"
"N-No, Tae," you whined, using your hand on his wrist to push his fingers back inside, "J-Just you...only you!"
He cursed under his breath, wrapping his arm tighter around you before he began to finger fuck you wholeheartedly. The sounds pouring from your lips only spurred him on, your cunt tight like a vice around just two of his fingers.
"This little cunt won't ever be able to take my cock, sweetheart," he growled, crooking his fingers up to nail that little spot that made you sob, "I'm gonna be too big for you."
"W-Want it a-anyway, Tae," you cried, nails digging into his wrist. Tears welled up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks as your body was sent into overload.
"Yeah? Want me to fuck you open until you can't take anymore?" he groaned, "Watch your virgin cunt get stuffed full of a cock you simply can't handle...have you make those pretty noises while you cream all over me..."
His words seemed more self-indulgent than aimed at you but you whined and nodded anyway. His palm ground against your clit as his fingers filled you up so nice and you found yourself teetering on the edge.
"I-I'm gonna cum," you panted, thighs twitching erratically in response to your pleasure."Go ahead, cum for me," he commanded, groaning alongside you as you tightened up around his fingers.
"Tae! 'S so good..." you slurred, eyes closed as you buried your face in his arm to ride out the pleasure he was giving you.
"Coming so prettily, little one," he whispered into your ear, fingers beginning to slow as your orgasm died down, "You're such a good girl."
"Ah...Tae," you whimpered as he pulled his fingers from your still-clenching pussy, sensitivity hitting you like a brick wall. Your thighs clenched shut, trembling uncontrollably in the aftermath of the most pleasure you'd ever received.
Taehyung slid his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of you on his tongue. His arm still held you tight as you continued to whimper against him.
"Taste so so good," he whispered, mostly to himself.
Once his digits were clean, he glanced down at you. It was clear you were still a bit overwhelmed and he cooed, shifting you in his lap until you were facing him. He pulled you into a hug and couldn't hold back a chuckle.
"Humans are so fragile," he whispered, "So overwhelmed...even that was too much for you, huh?"
You didn't respond, simply tucking your face away in his neck. You let your weight drop fully on his lap but froze immediately. You hadn't realized while you were being touched, how hard Taehyung's cock was against you but with a clear mind you could.
He was fucking big.
He chuckled darkly, lips finding your neck as he slowly made you grind against his covered length, "I told you, babygirl, I'm too big for your little pussy."
When you whined and tightened your grip on him, wanting to avoid the painful overstimulation, he simply chuckled. He let you cling to him and lay with him until your eyes fluttered shut ― sleep quickly and eagerly overcoming you.
Just as you sunk into darkness, you felt him press the softest of kisses against your forehead.
"My cute little human," he whispered, voice fading out as you finally fell asleep.
Tumblr media
When you woke up, you were tucked cozily in your bed beneath your wool comforter. The sun was up and you groaned, kicking the blankets off as you grew warmer with every passing second.
You had on your sweater from yesterday and a pair of panties you hadn't been wearing. Looking beside you, you found the bed empty and sighed.
Despite yourself, you found yourself feeling disappointed he hadn't stayed the night. He had shown you such a sweet, caring side before you fell asleep. It had made your heart flutter, how he treated you so delicately yet used such a sharp tongue to fluster you.
"He's such a strange dude," you muttered, staring at the ceiling as you spread starfish on your bed.
There was a dull ache between your legs, reminding you of the night before. Feeling your cheeks flush, you sat up straight and hurriedly crawled out of bed intending to take a cold shower.
Drying your hair with a towel, you hunted around your closet for a cute outfit for the date. Briefly, you wondered if he was still planning to take you out. Excitement thrummed through your veins, a giddy smile lighting up your face and making your cheeks ache.
After choosing your outfit, you took a seat in front of the vanity you had set up. You had found a mirror at the monthly market a few ones back and decided it was the best purchase ever. You hadn't known mirrors were scarce on Izo Huen for whatever reason until you desperately needed one.
Deciding to leave your hair down, too lazy to try and make anything of it, you mindlessly spun around in your chair.
A strange feeling bubbled up in your chest that made your heart race. Leaning your head back against the back of the chair, you ran your hands over your face with a groan.
"I actually miss him," you scoffed, leaning forward to rest your head on your vanity counter, "What is wrong with me?"
The day seemed to drag on longer than any other as you waited for Taehyung to arrive. The heat hadn't even bothered you, your mind too muddled with thoughts of your date. You wondered if he would hold your hand and where he planned to take you.
As the sun finally sunk beneath the horizon, you were more antsy and began to pace your living room. Every once in a while, you'd glance out your window in hopes a passing man would be Taehyung. Unfortunately, you were mistaken every time.
Before long, you began to realize that he simply wasn't going to show up. You changed into your pajamas, rejection burning in your veins before sitting on your bed. The streetlights and the moon cast a decent glow around you.
Your feelings were hurt. You’d been stood up by an alien.
Your heart ached and you felt your eyes sting with unshed tears. You flopped over, covering your face with a pillow before screaming into it.
"What a jerk!" you shouted in the material.
By the time you went to sleep, your simmering anger gave way to pitiful dejection. Your eyes were wet with tears as you closed them.
Tumblr media
He was polluting your mind, everywhere you went you found yourself hoping that he'd turn up around the next corner. You’d hoped he would come knocking on your door with a sheepish smile, apologizing.
Though as the days passed and you had seen neither hide nor hair of him, the prospect of an apology made you angry. You didn't want his stupid apology anymore.
A week lapsed and it was time, once again, for your weekly log.
Sitting in front of the camera, you sighed, "The...friend I had made seems to have disappeared. It's weird, I was perfectly content by myself but once he showed up and vanished ― it's made me lonely," you gnawed on your bottom lip before sighing, disappointment becoming a common feeling in your life by then, “Maybe I need to make some friends but...I can't explain it; the Sehebon are such a strange race that it feels like it's going to be really difficult to make friends. There's really nothing eventful that happened worth logging besides my own problems so...I'll sign off."
A couple clicks on your computer had the log sent. You'd be getting paid again soon, perhaps you'd be able to go out and find something to do for yourself. Maybe you'd hit the jackpot and find someone who would want to be your friend.
It felt childish, the need for friendship you had. But with Taehyung's absence, your loneliness was at an all time high.
It was beginning to get dark and you decided to say 'fuck it' and get dressed. You'd find something to do ― you hadn't really checked out nearly all the districts of Fia and you knew there were some popular places to hang out.
It was a long walk to the area they dubbed the Social District. The second you stepped onto the rowdy street, you were blown away by the flashing lights and heavy bass emanating from the various buildings.
They had their own clubs.
You suddenly felt out of place and awkward, weaving through the giant people blocking the streets as they talked with friends. It seemed like no one saw you, as if you were just invisible to them. You moved to the sidewalk, being able to squeeze by the people and avoid the large crowd that filled the street.
You slipped into a pub ― judging by the tables and bar. You couldn't read the sign but you still walked in anyway. It wasn't very crowded, a few tables still open. The vibe inside was much cooler and calmer and you felt yourself begin to relax.
Walking up the bar, you took a seat, grabbing a menu without thinking about it.
"God dammit," you muttered, staring at the alphabet you still couldn't read.
"Can I help you?" the tender asked, moving to stand in front of you.
"Uh...I can't read this," you admitted, feeling your cheeks burn.
"That's alright, what do you like?" she pulled the menu from your hands and looked over it herself.
"Do you have any good alcohol?" you slumped against the counter, chin resting in your hand.
She regarded you with furrowed brows, closing the menu, "You do know alcohol is poisonous, right?"
"Wait what?" your head snapped up and the woman laughed.
"Alcohol is poisonous to us. We don't drink it," she placed the menu back where you got it and smiled, "We have some Soda."
"You do?" you perked up at that, not tasting soda since you'd left Earth. You watched eagerly as she filled a glass with brown liquid, placing it in front of you.
"It's not...Earth's soda but it's basically the same," she smiled, "It's got seltzer and sugary syrup in it."
You thanked her before she was whisked away to take care of another customer, leaving you by yourself. You sipped out of the straw, sighing at the taste. It was slightly off compared to the soda you were used to but bubbling seltzer had you smiling.
"_____?" you jumped at the sound of your name, choking on your drink and erupting into a fit of coughing. A hand carefully patted your back until you calmed down, "Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you."
"I-It's fine," you choked out, clearing your throat and swallowing a few times to rid the feeling. Your eyes flicked up to meet Taehyung's and you felt a frown fall over your face before you realized it, "Taehyung."
His brows furrowed at your using his full name but he didn't say anything, "I uh...didn't know you came around here."
"It's my first time," you muttered, turning back to sip on your drink. When you didn't offer another opening for a conversation he let out a sigh and slid up next to you between the vacant seat beside you. You didn't have any choice but to interact, seeing at he wasn't going to back off.
"I'm sorry I missed our...date," the word still sounded foreign on his tongue, "I had urgent business to attend to in Holis."
"You don't owe me anything Taehyung," you muttered, failing to mask the hurt in your voice.
He sighed again, "I had to go visit a friend of mine, he was stranded and couldn't get home on his own. I promise that's all it was, _____."
You sighed, feeling your hurt and anger soften. Turning to look at him, you opened your mouth to reply but were interrupted.
“Whoa, is this the little human?” a loud voice from behind you made you jump. Twisting around, you saw a large man with biceps so big his t-shirt was stretched taut, “Oh you are a cutie!”
“U-Um...hello,” you greeted timidly.
"Uh yeah," Taehyung smiled, placing his hand on your shoulder, "This is _____. And _____ this is Wonho."
"N-Nice to meet you," you held out your hand, gasping when he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your knuckles.
"It's my pleasure," you could hear Taehyung let out a long sigh, "Bartender, I'll take a Blue Ice please. I gotta take a leak," he muttered the last part to himself, fingers lingering on your shoulder before he disappeared.
"You drinking a soda?" Wonho asked, peering into your glass, "Mind if I have a sip?"
"I guess not," you shrugged, watching him wrap his hand around the glass and bring it to his lips.
He was good looking, you couldn't deny. He had cute ears that stuck out just slightly and pretty teeth as he grinned at you. You found yourself comparing him to Taehyung ― deducing Taehyung definitely set your heart racing the second you looked at him.
"You know," Wonho placed your glass back down in front of you, "I was surprised to hear Taehyung was fooling around with a little human. I never thought he'd be the type."
"What do you mean?" you asked, brows furrowing as you mindlessly stirred your drink with your straw.
"Well I just can't believe he's actually giving in to it," Wonho said, pulling out a menu to look over it.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you muttered, quite blunt.
He seemed surprised, chuckling and waving his hand, "Just the whole human kink that's going on. You know, since humans have started coming here it's become like a game to see who can actually manage to bang one. Can't believe Taehyung managed to snag one."
Your eyes drifted to your glass, the ice melting in your soda ― watering it down. A human kink?
"So...I'm just a conquest?" you whispered, though you were sure Wonho didn't hear as he was ordering a drink.
So many things bubbled up inside you; anger, humiliation, shame. Humiliation at the fact you'd been used, shame over the fact you fell for it and were so close to giving in, and anger of the audacity he had to do such a thing to you. Tears stung your eyes and you bit your lip to hold them back.
"Oh man, that looks delicious," Taehyung groaned, grabbing his tall glass of blue drink and taking a sip.
"I'm leaving," you muttered, sliding off your stool and moving to walk away.
You were stopped by a hand grabbing your elbow. Taehyung stared at you, brows drawn together.
"You just got here," he muttered, obviously confused by your sudden change.
You scoffed, "I'm going home, Taehyung."
You snatched your arm out of his grip and stormed out the doors and onto the busy streets. You could vaguely hear your name being shouted but it was quickly covered by the noisiness of the people. Crossing your arms over your chest, you weaved through the bodies. Tears were burning your eyes but you held them back.
"Hey a human!" you heard someone shout but you didn't stop, "Why don't you come party?"
'The whole human kink.' Wonho's words echoed in your mind, making it harder to fight your tears. 'It's become a game to see who can bang one."
By the time you reached your front door, your jaw was aching with keeping your tears in. Slamming the door behind you, you immediately burst into tears ― bringing your hands up to cover your eyes with your sleeves. Sniffling, you dropped onto your couch and let your sobs out freely.
Hugging one of your throw pillows, you attempted to calm yourself down. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, eyes fluttering against your will, there was a series of sharp knocks against your door. You didn't move, silently waiting to see if they'd go away.
Unfortunately, the knocks became harsher and more frantic. Deciding that they weren't going to go away, you stood up and dragged your feet to the door.
You already had a feeling who it was and you weren't wrong ― Taehyung standing on the other side. His fist was raised like he was going to knock again and his hair was a complete wreck. His shirt clung to him with sweat and his breathing was a little heavy.
"What do you want Taehyung?" you muttered, crossing your arms around yourself.
"You've been crying," he whispered, moving to step forward but stopped when you moved back, "I knew you were upset. What's the matter, sweetheart?"
"Don't!" you snapped, turning on your heel and storming into your house.
"What?" Taehyung whispered, closing the door gently behind him.
"Don't call me that," you said, keeping your back to him so he wouldn't see your tears.
It felt so nice to have him call you pet names so gently. But you remembered it was just a ruse to lure you in ― and it was so hard not to fall.
"Why not? I thought you liked being called that?" he sounded so confused and you could imagine he looked akin to a kicked puppy.
"Because it's not fair!" you shouted, finally turning around, "You can't just play those games with me because I'm a human, Taehyung!"
"I really...What are you talking about?" his voice was so soft, so gentle. He took a couple steps towards you, hands outstretched, "I'm not playing any games."
"Oh yeah?" you scoffed, wiping away a few stray tears from your cheeks, "Wonho told me about your disgusting kink! You don't care about me, you just wanted to be able to say you fucked a human!"
"Wh―" he stumbled over his words, irises desperately scanning over you, "That's not...true."
You scoffed, shaking your head., "You're so unfair, Taehyung." he cocked his head to the side curiously, "You made me like you and I trusted you. But you just...you really aren't any different from men on Earth, huh?"
"What do you mean? Of course I'm different!" he argued, his own eyes growing glassy, "I never lied to you, _____. I promise!"
"You just wanted to use me as a conquest, something to brag about," you breathing stuttered as you sobbed, "And I almost fell for it!"
"Would you listen to me?!" he snapped, suddenly moving and pinning you against the wall.
He was caging you in, scent overwhelming you and making more tears fall from your eyes. You refused to meet his gaze, even though you could feel his eyes burning into you. You sniffled, staring down at your cardigan sleeves that were functioning as sweater paws.
"I never once intended to use you like that," Taehyung growled, voice giving away his frustration, "Everything I have said and done for you is real and not because you're a human. I don't want you as a...a...conquest," the word sounded foreign on his tongue, "And I certainly am not like your pathetic human men on Earth. I am better in every single way."
"Taehyung..."
"Stop calling me that!" he snapped, making you jump, "I-I want you to call me Tae!"
"I don't think..." you shook your head.
"Why won't you believe me?" he sighed, voice going soft, "Is it really so easy to lose trust in me when I haven't even done anything? You heard my friend say some stupid nonsense a-and you're suddenly convinced I'm evil!"
When he put it like that, you felt silly. Your own insecurities caught up with you and you shifted awkwardly in your place against the wall. You sheepishly looked up to find him staring at you, eyes dark beneath his long bangs. They were damp from sweat and you swallowed thickly at how good he looked.
"I'm sorry Tae..." you mumbled, nibbling on your lip beneath his glare, "I just...I really like you and I don't want you to―
"Listen to me," he tilted your head up, making you look at him directly. His eyes were much softer now and your eyes felt hot once more, "I have no intention of hurting you. You can trust me, _____. I promise."
It felt like all self-control slipped through your fingers as you suddenly surged forward to press your lips against his. Standing on you tippy-toes, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He eagerly kissed you back, arms wrapping around you ― teeth nipping at your bottom lip to make you whine.
One of his hands traveled lower, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You could feel his length hardened in his jeans ― and it was just as big as you remembered. It made you whimper, feeling him so hard against you. You squeaked when the floor was suddenly pulled out from beneath you and you found yourself pressed against the wall with your legs wrapped around his waist, his weight supporting you.
You whined when his lips found your neck, trailing his lips over the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He smirked at the feeling of you shuddering against him.
"Are you wet for me, baby?" he asked against your skin. You whimpered and nodded, feeling your pussy clench and gush into your panties, "Do you want me to touch you? Tell me."
"Yes please, Tae," you begged, blushing when he chuckled at your desperation.
The wall was pulled out from behind you and you scrambled to hold onto him around his shoulders, "I got you," he reassured, turning to walk through the open doorway of your bedroom.
You were deposited onto your mattress, making you bounce slightly on it. Taehyung was covering your body once more, however, as he met your lips for another kiss. Resting his weight on one forearm beside your head, he used the other to push your shirt up.
Getting the hint, you pulled your cardigan off and tossed it off the side of the bed before tugging your shirt off as well. Taehyung groaned, his lips kissing the swell of your breast above your bra. His fingers trailed over your bra ― cupping you and sighing softly.
You were surprised by your own boldness as you reached behind you and unclipped your bra. Before you could tug it off, however, Taehyung pinned your arms above your head and growled.
"Why are you so eager?" he asked, making your blush further.
"I-I just want you to touch me..." you confessed, lashes fluttering when he leaned down to brush his lips against your lips once more.
"There's no rush, little one," he cooed, "I'm not going anywhere until I've made you cum for me."
You clenched your thighs with a whimper at the pressure in your core. He pulled off your bra, finally, tossing it away and sitting back to admire your body. You were laid out beneath him, breasts heaving in your arousal.
His head dipped down and you held your breath as he enveloped a perked nipple into his mouth. Your hands flew up to clutch at his hair, back arching. His teeth grazed the bud, and groaned at the way you whined.
"Fuck, you're so responsive to everything I do," he gasped, pulling his lips away from your nipple. His fingers found it and brushed his thumb nail over and you choked out a sob, "I love it so much..."
"T-Tae please!" you whined, arching your hips up.
"Alright, baby," he cooed, flicking the button of your jeans open and tugging them down. Your panties went with them but neither of you cared, "Look at that. So wet."
"Please touch me, Tae," you begged, spreading your legs wider around him.
"You ever been eaten out, sweetheart?" he asked, watching the way your breath stuttered at his question. When you didn't answer, he gave your cunt a swift smack. You cried out, clutching at the blankets desperately, "I asked you a question."
"N-No I've never― " you were cut off by his fingers sliding over your clit softly.
"Do you want to?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Yes, yes please, Tae!" you gasped, eyes wide when he shifted down the bed until his head was positioned over your core.
"So pretty, baby," he sighed, spreading your folds open to expose the pretty wet hole that clenched desperately around nothing.
Your mouth fell open, a stuttered breath escaping you when his tongue slid over your entrance up to your clit. He hummed, licking his lips to chase the taste. He looked like he was in heaven, swirling his tongue over your bud and chuckling when your whole body trembled.
"Love how you react to me," he whispered, mostly to himself. He tongued at your hole to taste your juices once more before dragging up to your clit once again, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you."
"Tae!" you cried, tugging his hair harshly though he didn't seem to mind.
His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth. You keened, eyes rolling back into your head at the stimulation. You nearly screamed when you were suddenly filled with two long fingers.
"Fuck!" you cried, back arching. You abandoned your hold on his hand to wrap your hands beneath your knees ― keeping yourself open for him.
"Good girl," he praised, making you smile down at him.
He pressed a kiss against your thigh before diving down to take your clit into his mouth again. His fingers stretched you open, catching your g-spot every chance he got. He reached so deep inside you with just his fingers and you suddenly remembered how big his dick was. Just the thought of it had your walls clenching around his fingers. He groaned in response, the vibrations against your clit making your thighs twitch.
"A-Another finger, Tae, please," you begged, voice not above a whisper.
"Can you handle that, sweetheart? Your little cunt’s already stretched around two," he teased, his index finger beginning to nudge against your entrance.
"N-Need it," you gasped, "Need to take it for you cock."
His fingers froze and you felt him exhale sharply against your core ― as if the air had been punched out of him. Glancing down, you saw his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.
"Don't say things like that, little girl," he growled, finally pushing the third finger into you, "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Tae I― " your words died on your tongue when he enveloped your clit once again.
You felt stuffed with his fingers, the digits making your entrance stretch deliciously. You lost your grip on your knees and let them fall open once again. Taehyung's tongue danced over the sensitive nerves, eyes closed as he relished in having your cunt wrapped around his fingers. You were gushing, coating the digits in your juices and he couldn't wait to have them in his mouth.
"W-Wanna cum, Tae," you gasped, reaching above you to grip desperately at the pillow.
He reached up, pulling on one of your hands until you released the material. You felt your walls clench tight when he urged you to put your hands on his head.
He wanted you to pull at his hair.
Not one to reject such an offer, you tangled both your hands in the soft locks as he began to fuck you with his fingers eagerly. The wet noises were obscene, mixed with your moans made an incredible melody for Taehyung.
The fact he was the only one who had ever had you like that made his cock throb. His hips moved mindlessly against the bed beneath him to get some stimulation. His cock hurt in the confines of his jeans but he didn't dare try to pull it out.
Suddenly, your walls clenched tight and the grip on his hair began to sting the harder you pulled. Sobbing out his name, your entire body began to quake beneath him. The pleasure was overwhelming and you snapped your thighs closed around his head. He didn't pull away, however, keeping his lips attached to the throbbing bud through your orgasm ― milking every spectacular second until you were whimpering from overstimulation.
He gasped as he pulled away, sitting back on his heels before pulling his fingers out of you. He spread your folds, groaning at the way you gaped slightly from being stretched open. Sliding his soaked fingers into his mouth, his whole body trembled and he reached down to palm himself through his jeans.
The feeling of a smaller hand covering his had his eyes snapping open. He pulled his fingers out and stared down at you as you shyly palmed him through the material. He groaned, head falling back.
"C-Can I..." you trailed off, not quite sure what you were asking.
"I...I don't know..." he bit his lip, apprehensive.
"Please Tae?" you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes.
"Shit, alright," he whispered, switching your positions. He scooted up until his back rested against your headboard, shoving your pillows aside to make room for himself, "Come here. Sit on my lap, pretty girl."
Your hands were trembling as you did what you were asked, swinging your leg over his lap until you were straddling him. As you pressed your full weight on him, he tossed his head back in a groan. The pressure of you sitting on him felt spectacular.
Gripping his shoulders, you suddenly felt shy with his eyes on you. He gazed at your body on top of him like you were a goddess, hands drifting up your sides and cupping your breasts. Thumbing your nipples, he smiled crookedly when you shivered at the feeling. He cupped your cheeks, finally, and pulled you down for a soft kiss.
"Go ahead and grind on me, baby," he cooed, gripping your hips to urge you to move.
The first grind against him had him releasing the most beautiful moan that you felt yourself gush in response. His head leaned back against the headboard, watching through lidded eyes the way your cunt ground against his cock through his jeans. He wishes he could take it out and feel your wetness drip all over him ― to feel you cream against him as you came. He swallowed the urge down and continued to guide you.
"D-Does it feel good?" you asked, biting your lip as you watched his jaw tense as he held back his moans.
"So good, babygirl," he groaned, feeling his heart stutter when you proudly grinned down at him, "You're so fucking cute."
"D-Don't call me cute when I'm doing this," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Doing what?" his head rolled against his shoulder and he smirked at you, "Go on and say it."
"No..." You whispered, clutching his shirt. Leaning forward, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close.
"Why so shy, little one?" he chuckled, kissing your temple and trailing his hand up your back before cupping the back of your head, "Grinding your wet little cunt against me like this...wanting to make me cum. And you want to act shy?"
You whimpered, gasping into his ear so prettily that he shuddered. He felt his orgasm coming and he groaned through clenched teeth.
"Close..." he whispered, fingers digging into the soft skin of your waist while he other clenched in your hand, "You're gonna make me cum, baby."
"Please cum, Tae," you begged, gasping when he wrenched your face out from where you were hiding in his neck.
"You want my cum?" he panted, mouth falling open as you fastened your pace. You nodded as best you could with his hand in your hair, "How about you cum first for me?"
Your eyes fluttered, realizing with his words how close you were to another orgasm. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against him. He hummed in response, smiling in the kiss when you started trembling in his lap.
You pulled away from the kiss and tossed you head back as you cried out his name, gushing against his jeans. Taehyung cursed, his own hips stuttering beneath you.
By the time you came down, you realized how wet his jeans were beneath you. You whined, falling off the side of his lap. He still sat up, chest heaving as he caught his breath. With his eyes closed, he didn't see you cupping his softening length through the wet material. He hissed, brushing your hand off of him.
"I-Is that all your..."
"I should get home," he interrupted. You frowned, watching him stand up and shift uncomfortably.
"Can't you stay?" you asked, finding yourself not wanting him to leave.
"Sorry, baby," he leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead, "Maybe another time." With a final, departing kiss, he turned and stepped out of the door. He paused, however, and looked back at you, "Be ready tomorrow, 8PM. I'll take you for dinner."
You were left alone on the bed with a little smile on your lips ― the promise of seeing him tomorrow making you giddy.
Tumblr media
You felt apprehensive when 8PM rolled around and there was no sign of him ― the time blinking on the screen of your computer. You sat on your desk chair, watching the moments tick by.
It was nearing 8:30 when there were a series of knocks on your door. You jumped to your feet and raced to the door, pulling it open to see Taehyung with a guilty smile and a handful of flowers.
"Sorry I'm late I uh..." he cleared his throat and held the flowers over to you, "I had to go a bit out of my way to get these."
"Oh Tae..." you smiled, taking them from his hands and bringing them up to your nose to smell, "They're beautiful."
"They're imported from Liana," he smiled, shrugging sheepishly.
"How'd you think of this?" You asked, motioning for him to enter your home as you went to your kitchen to put the flowers in water.
"Well..." he cleared his throat, "I just...I've been reading about human dates and just human things like that, you know?"
"You've been studying for our date?" you giggled, putting the flowers on your counter before turning to him. He looked shy, keeping his eyes averted from you, "I really appreciate it, Tae."
"Really?" his eyes lit up and he grinned his adorable smile.
"I think it was very thoughtful," you led him back to the door and out into the cool night.
"There's this place I really like around my place," he suddenly explained, taking your hand in his as he helped you down from the stoop, "I like to go there with some friends. I think you'll like it!"
"I'm sure I'll like anything, Tae," you admitted, smiling when he squeezed your hand in response.
The two of you made simple talk as you made your way to the restaurant. You hadn't had the opportunity to go to one in the time you'd lived on Izo Huen.
It was a simple, small building with an Open sign in English. You grinned, bouncing inside tugging Taehyung by his hand excitedly.
"Pick a seat, little one," Taehyung cooed, nudging your back.
It was set up exactly like a restaurant on Earth and you slid yourself into a booth, grinning. Taehyung took the spot across from you, lounging back as he looked at the menu. You followed his lead and opened the menu yourself. Eyes wide, you realized you were able to read everything.
"Hey...It's in English!" you muttered, eyes scanning over the words. They were translated underneath into what Taehyung could understand ― the characters and symbols lost on you.
"Yeah it's the only place around here that does it," he shrugged, "I figured you might enjoy that."
"You're..." you grinned, shaking you head, "You're so thoughtful, Tae. I really appreciate it."
He shrugged, though you could see that his ears were tinged red.
You both ordered drinks and food, the atmosphere dissolving into one of calm company. You both chatted idly about anything ― Taehyung asking a lot of questions about Earth and him trying to teach you the different characters for his alphabet. He gave up when you just couldn't get a hang of it ― teasingly calling you illiterate and cooing when you pouted.
"Hey Tae," you muttered, picking at the salad you had ordered. He hummed, mouth full of some type of steak ― though the meat was of a consistency that made your stomach turn, "How did you learn to speak so...casually?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, sipping his soda.
"You know..." you blushed, realizing the question wasn't really something to ask over the dinner table, "When you talk you use a lot of slang terms. Like...in bed," You whispered the last word and picked at your salad again.
"Oh," Taehyung chuckled, "See, I have a friend who has been to Earth a few times. He has a lot of...interesting material that he let me read. And he kind of taught me some popular slang on Earth."
"You didn't have to go to so much effort, Taehyung," you whispered, although you were grinning. Your heart fluttered in your chest nonetheless.
"I wanted to," he suddenly set a hard gaze on you, "I want you to like me and I want you to feel comfortable around me. I want to be good for you."
"Tae..." you reached across the table and cupped his hand in yours, "I already like you very much. You make me feel comfortable and you make me feel very happy."
He grinned, looking away from you shyly but squeezed your hand tightly.
The walk home was peaceful, you found yourself wrapping your arms around one of Taehyung's ― wanting to be close to him. He didn't seem to mind in the slightest, squeezing your hand tightly and staring down at you with sparkling eyes. It felt like he looked at you like you hung up the moon ― it made you feel fluttery inside.
"Do you want to come inside, Tae?" you asked, opening your front door.
He hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside. He kicked his boots off along with you, watching as you tucked both of them away in the corner. You went to your bedroom to change into something comfortable ― settling on some pajama pants and an oversized sweater. When you walked back out, Taehyung was sitting at your desk looking at your computer.
"What's this?" he gestured to your setup with your camera.
"It's where I record the logs needed to send back to Earth," you explained, "I update my superiors every week on things that are happening. When I learn something new about the culture or something interesting happens."
"Interesting," he muttered, sitting there for a moment before standing up and navigated over to your couch.
You dropped into the seat beside him and molded yourself against his side. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss against the top of your head. The silence was comfortable and you rested your head on his chest ― listening to his heartbeat.
"Hey Tae?" he hummed, looking down at you when you looked up at him, "Can I have a kiss?"
His gaze softened and he quickly leaned down to press his lips against yours. He went to pull away but you followed him, pulling him into a deep kiss making him moan. Swinging your leg over his lap, you straddled him boldly. He seemed surprised by it but didn't say anything, just moving his lips against yours.
"Tae," you whispered against his lips, "I want to touch you, please?"
"_____― " he pulled away from the kiss, pushing you back slightly by your shoulders.
"You keep saying I can't handle it, but I can!" you argued, pouting at being pushed back.
"I don't want to hurt you, _____," his brows came together in a deep furrow, "It wasn't just talk when I said you couldn't handle it. It's too much, you're too...small."
"It turns you on though doesn't it?" you teased, noticing how he was growing hard beneath you, "Can't we at least try, Tae?"
"I-I..." his head fell back when you ground against him, "Fuck, we can try."
You held in a squeal of joy when he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed and stripped his shirt off.
It was the first time seeing him naked and you sat up to admire his body. He was fit, as you expected. His stomach was flat with a small trail of hair leading beneath his jeans. On his shoulders were patches embedded in his skin that reflected off the dim light of your bedroom.
"What..." you sat up on your knees, brushing your fingers over them. It felt like normal skin, and you hummed in wonder.
"They're...light-sensitive patches that we just...never evolved out of," he explained, "They were useful for survival when we dominated the deserts. Now they're just...here."
"Interesting," you muttered, trailing your hand down his chest and stomach to the button on his jeans.
Before you could flick it open, however, he grabbed your wrist and pinned you back to the bed. His gaze was dark, making you shiver underneath it. He smelled wonderful and you reached up with your free hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes.
"You've got another thing coming if you think you'll get anywhere near my cock before I think you're good and ready, little one," he growled, making your thighs clench at the sound.
You whined when he rushed to discard your clothes, not wasting a single second in getting you bare for him. He palmed himself through his jeans as he looked down at you, licking his lips.
"So pretty," he whispered, smoothing his hand down your body. Smirking, he pinched one of your nipples to hear the way you whined, "Spread your legs for me."
You hurriedly did as you were told, shame and inhibitions thrown out the window. You felt nervous under his gaze but with every compliment and soft touch ― you began to feel better. Mouth falling open, you gasped when his fingertips brushed against your folds.
"You're so wet," he mumbled, more to himself, "Are you always so wet, baby?"
"Y-You're the only one ― "
"I know that but when you touch yourself, pretty baby," he glanced up when you tensed, "I know you do. Tell me do you get this wet?"
"O-Only when I think of you," you admitted before you could think twice about it. You felt your cheeks burn at your own admission but Taehyung cursed and grunted as he squeezed his cock.
"You're such a good girl," he praised, fingertips trailing up your body again. Goosebumps ignited across your skin and you arched your back to get more of the feeling of his touch.
His fingers eagerly dipped back between your thighs to find your entrance. You whimpered when he immediately slipped a single digit inside. It felt nice but unfulfilling.
He pulled his finger out and circled it over your clit ― using your own juices to lubricate the movement. You hummed, eyes fluttering as he circled the bud several times. When your thighs began to tense, he pushed his finger back inside.
He continued the teasing until you were whining beneath him. Suddenly he pressed his thumb against the bud, circling and pressing against it relentlessly.
"I'm gonna cum!" you warned, your eyes squeezing shut.
"Go ahead, pretty baby," he urged, not pausing in his torture of your clit.
You came quickly, arching and trembling on the bed. Your cunt was empty, gushing and clenching around nothing. His touches on your clit slowed until they stopped all together.
You figured he'd give you a moment to recover but, he was suddenly sliding two fingers inside you. You were so wet from your orgasm, your cum slicking down his fingers and onto the bed. You sobbed, grinding your hips into his touch. He didn't try touching your clit or your spot, showing that much mercy. Instead, he leaned down to envelop a perked nipple in his mouth while he scissored his fingers, stretching you a bit more.
You hummed, cupping the back of his head to keep him in place. He didn't seem to mind, beginning to fuck his two fingers into you faster.
"A-Another, please," you requested, whimpered when he immediately did so.
There was a slight, tiny burn that immediately gave way to pleasure. His palm pressed against your clit ― still so sensitive that it made you tremble. As he fucked you with his fingers, he switched to give your other breast attention.
Your hips jerked with his every movement, following the pace he'd set. Every time he brushed your g-spot and you whined, he would laugh.
He took so much enjoyment in your pleasure it was almost baffling. You were always sure that men would be selfish and unsatisfying in bed but Taehyung was nothing but attentive.
Perhaps he was right; he was better than any human man.
"Cum again for me," he purred, swiping his tongue along your chest before meeting your neck.
The feeling of his fingers and teeth on your neck had you inching closer to the edge of the abyss.
"T-Tae, please," you whined, grinding your hips down, "T-Touch me, please."
He hummed, moving his thumb to press against your clit. The simple touch set you off and you were coming once again beneath him. Your body was on fire, sweat sticking to you and making you pant. It crested beautifully and faded out into trembles and whines.
He didn't remove his fingers, instead beginning to nudge a fourth into you ― his pinky finger. His eyes met yours, keeping his eyes on your face as he stretched you further than he had before. The width of his hand was bordering on painful but you found it highly enjoyable. His thumb continued to circle your clit even as you sobbed in overstimulation. Your spasming walls eagerly accepted the new stretch and you found yourself relaxing into it.
He was quickly going to send you to another orgasm but before you could fall off the edge again, he removed his thumb. You whined, grinding your hips to chase the feeling. His eyes drifted down to where his fingers were buried into you, smoothing two of his fingers from his free hand over your folds.
"Stretched so wide," he muttered, scooping up some of your cum on the digits and popping them in his mouth. Your walls squeezed his fingers in response to his display.
He suddenly pulled his fingers out and you cried out at being empty so fast. Your walls weren't able to close properly and you closed your thighs at the feeling.
Instead of stopping you, Taehyung stepped off the bed. Your mouth went dry when he unbuttoned his jeans and began to shuffle them down his thighs.
You realized he wasn't wearing underwear when his cock popped free ― flushed incredibly red at the head and leaking precum down the shaft. He visibly shuddered when his cock was free from its confines and he quickly wrapped his hand around himself ― giving himself a few good squeezes.
He was just as big as you thought. His fingers didn't meet when wrapped around the girth. He was wider than his four fingers and so long that you found yourself whimpering at the thought of him drilling into you that deep.
"You still think you can take me, little one?" he asked, crawling on the bed to kneel in front of you still clenched thighs.
"Y-Yeah...want it," you let your legs fall open, showing him your flushed and swollen cunt.
Her cursed, tapping the fat head of his cock against your cunt. You whimpered when you saw just how big it was compared to your own pussy. He was surely going to rip you in half but damn if you wouldn't enjoy every second.
His precum mixed with your cum as he slid his shaft between your folds, getting the underside of him nice and wet. You whimpered, feeling him grinding against your clit bringing you close to the orgasm you'd been denied.
Before you could fall into it, he positioned his tip at your entrance. Prodding ever so slightly, he sighed at the feeling of your heat against him. You spread your legs wider for him as he began to press inside.
You cried out, clutching the sheets beneath you as he stretched you wide open. The head of him was so thick, bordering on painful. You reached out to stop him from going any further, gritting your teeth at the feeling.
"You're okay," he whispered, shifting back so he pulled out of you.
You breathed heavily, relaxing once more as he circled your clit with his thumb. As your eyes fluttered, he began to press back inside. You whined as he pushed past what he had been, thumb not letting up on your clit. You walls spasmed around him, making him groan as you began to tremble.
The head of him popped inside and you cried out as you were sent over the edge. Taehyung's body fell over yours, catching himself on his hands beside your head. You sobbed, tears filling your eyes at the pleasure of being stretched as you were.
Taehyung's mouth fell open as he felt you cum around the head of his cock. When you calmed down to just little sniffles and whimpers, he leaned down to press his lips against your neck.
"You okay, baby?" he whispered. You nodded, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull him into a soft kiss.
He took that as his cue to sink further into you. The flare on the head of his cock was the thickest part of him and it felt much easier for the rest of him to slide in. He nudged your cervix and when you flinched at the pain, he pulled back slightly.
"Look at that," he chuckled looking between your bodies. Following his gaze, your eyes widened, "You can't even fit all of me inside you, little one."
He was right, you'd only managed to fit half his cock inside you. Your walls clenched around him at that.
"Feels so good, Tae," you whispered, feeling his cock twitch against your walls.
He grinned, moving his hips gently, sinking in as far as he comfortably could before pulling back out. Although he wasn't able to fit in you completely, he still found himself groaning against you
"Such a tight little cunt," he growled, nipping at your jaw, "Took me so well, like a good girl."
You began to grind your hips up as he sunk into you and he growled. Sitting back on his heels, he soothed his hand over your body to soothe you.
You cursed loudly when he snapped his hips much harder into you ― testing how much you could take. When you gushed and spasmed around him, he took that as a sign to keep going. You moaned so beautifully for him, body reacting like a dream to his every touch and movement.
Cunt stretched wide and stuffed full of cock, you couldn't even think of anything else. You felt drunk, dizzy and lightheaded. Taehyung cooed when you slurred out his name, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip to collect some drool there.
"You're so cute," he grinned, breaking out into a moan when you clenched him tight, "All you can think about is my cock, huh?"
"'S so good..." you whispered, the words coming out almost breathlessly.
"I know, baby," he replied, licking his lips as he moved to his cock pounding you open wider than you should have been able to take, "You're gushing and squeezing me so nice. Are you gonna cum? Can you cum for me?"
You swallowed and nodded, whining when he hit your cervix. It hurt but it blended in with the pleasure. Mindlessly, you reached down to find your clit ― intent on sending yourself over the edge.
"No, no baby," he cooed, brushing your fingers away, "You'll cum without touching your pretty clit, yeah?"
"C-Can't," you sobbed, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes.
"I think you can," he muttered, smoothing his hand over your lower stomach. "Fuck, look at that, babygirl."
You lazily followed his gaze to where his hand laid. Your cunt clenched at the sight of your stomach bulging every time he sunk in ― his cock literally molding you around it. You gasped, your high bubbling in your stomach.
"Wanna cum!" you cried, attempting to reach down and circle your clit again only to be stopped once more.
"I said no, little one," he snapped, pinning your hands above your head as he loomed above you, "You can do it. Cum for me."
Your body went still, focusing on the feeling of his cock filling you and stretching you. His cock was so big that he didn't even have to try to reach any good spots within you.
Astoundingly, you shrieked as your orgasm finally washed over you. Taehyung cursed in your ear, fucking you ruthlessly through the high. Distantly, you felt wetness splatter between your thighs and coat both of you. You chanted his name as you squirmed and writhed at the overwhelming pleasure.
"Shit, I'm― " Taehyung's warning was cut off by a groan.
His weight fell on you fully and he hid his face in your neck as he came. You hugged him against you, still trembling as he pumped his hot cum into you. There was so much, his cock keeping his cum plugged inside you. You gasped and twitched as you felt your stomach bloat over so slightly. You walls clenched around him, the idea of him filling you so much sending you into another quiet orgasm.
It was less spectacular than the others, but still left you gasping of air. Taehyung groaned in your ear as he felt you cum around his sensitive cock once again ― forcing a couple more spurts out of him to add.
It seemed like forever until his body finally relaxed. He continued to hold you, pressing kisses against any place he possibly could.
"That was...nice..." you muttered, making him laugh as he rolled off of you.
Your mouth fell open as he pulled his cock out ― it ached, there was no denying it. There was a gush of his cum, so much of it that it formed of pool beneath you. Your cheeks felt hot as Taehyung watched his cum pour out of your abused hole.
"Who knew my little human girl could take so much?" he teased, enjoyed the way you squirmed in embarrassment, "Want to take a shower?"
"Only if you will with me," you offered with a tired voice, watching his face morph into an expression of confusion.
"Is that some type of human thing?" he asked, sitting up and stretching his muscles.
"Apparently so," you whispered.
"Hey..." he paused from getting off of the bed. "You...you'll be here a while, right?"
"What do you mean?" you asked, clenching your thighs shut as you felt your core begin to burn and ache as you came back to yourself.
"Like...you won't have to go back to Earth any time, right?" his voice sounded small, almost fragile.
"I'll stay as long as I want to," you reassured, leaning over to kiss him but freezing before you could.
"What is it?" he asked, frowning.
"I'm just really fucking sore," you mumbled, flushing when he burst out laughing.
"Ah, my cute little human," he cooed, kissing your nose.
Tumblr media
12K notes · View notes
mischiefmanaged71 · 3 years
Text
Turning Tables (5/8) - Joaquin Torres x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: After Y/N is injured on a mission, Joaquin is called over and she’s got a confession to make. Surprisingly, so does he.
Author’s Note: This series will continue based on how the last episode goes :)
Warnings: fluff, slowburn!, action & canon-level violence!
Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem! reader
Word Count: 2.5K
You groaned in discomfort as you adjusted yourself on the bed. With your left leg resting upon a pillow, you reclined and stared up at the ceiling anxiously. The smell of antiseptic and rubbing alcohol fills your nose, surrounding you. Chills run along your arms as you feel the cold seep through the impossibly thin hospital gown.
After the whole fiasco in Munich, Sam called you to meet him and Bucky in Riga. To say you were surprised to see Zemo with them was an understatement. You were initially hesitant to work with him but later he proved useful with getting information. It was Walker who really irked you. He kept getting in the way and each time you could slowly see his mind grow worse. 
It was on that last day that he’d finally gone off the deep end. Zemo had destroyed all of the vials of Negel’s super serum that Karli had. At least you all thought he had, not before a collision between the Dora Milaje and Walker allowed Zemo to escape unnoticed. 
You’d never seen such pure rage and intensity in a person before. None of you had realised John took the serum until it was too late. 
He went on a rampage after Karli killed Lemar, using the shield to quite literally decapitate a man in the Town Square in front of an entire crowd and their phones.
It was in the aftermath that led you, Bucky and Sam to the warehouse where Walker retreated to in his dazed state. 
Your eyes close and suddenly your back in the warehouse, re-living the previous day. 
***
“Walker…”
“You guys should see a medic, you don’t look so good.”, John noted, striding past to leave the building.
Sam confronts him, “Stop, Walker.”
John backtracks, “What? You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”
You all watched John wearily as he continued to shout. 
“He didn’t kill Lemar, John.”, you exclaimed.
John scoffs, shaking his head as he paced.
“Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well.”
“I’m not like you.”, John spits out with gritted teeth to Bucky.
Sam tried to talk him down, 
“Listen, it was the heat of the battle. Okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
You glimpse at the blood coating the paint of the shield, a scarlet red splattered across the side as it dripped down.  He used Steve’s shield to murder someone. A shield that Steve used to defend and protect, drenched with the blood of an innocent.
“John…you gotta give me the shield, man”, Sam paused wearily, unsure of John’s next move.
Suddenly, John looked up at Sam, an epiphany clear in his eyes, 
“Oh, so that's what this is. You almost got me.”
Sam shook his head in denial, “You made a mistake.”
John looked between your trio, “You don’t want to do this.”
“Yeah, we do.”, Bucky answered with conviction.
It all began when Bucky lunged for John and you jumped for the shield to wrench it out of his grasp. Each of you attacked from a different side. You remember ducking to avoid his swipe for your neck, aiming a fist at his side and sending him sprawling. All of you were drained after the repeat conflicts with super soldiers.
You remember when Bucky ended up a far distance away, incapacitated due to his arm and an electrical surge. Sam’s wings were ripped from the sockets, leaving his flight out of the equation. 
You had jumped on Walker’s back, securing your arms around his neck to get him off of Sam. Wrenching his body to the right, you were sent sprawling and rolled forwards to stand over John and grab for the shield. He jabbed it upwards to smack your head but you released, dropping on your back to somersault a few feet away.  
“Just give me the shield, Walker and we can all walk away.”
He grunted angrily and striked the shield on the ground to help him stand up as he marched toward you. You tilted your head and smacked your fist against your palm, igniting flames in your hand. Flames collide with vibranium and from there, it was a tussle of fire, punches and the occasional spray of blood. 
A stabbing pain in your side flared as you threw another punch. Even the burning fire in your eyes began to fade as your energy depleted. Walker used that to his advantage as he swung the shield into your head which knocked you a couple feet back. Disoriented but determined, you widen your stance and launch a stream of fire at the shield. Fire bellows around the shield you once fought alongside, moulding against the shape. 
He crept closer and closer until he swiped around and rammed into you, slamming you to the floor. His fists collided with your face repeatedly as beads of blood burst from the open wounds. After your lack of movement, he rises from his crouch and walks away to deal with Sam, finally. Your hands shake at your sides, your face numb, head spinning. With the last breath of consciousness you have, you form a lasso, gripping his arm. The shield-bearing arm is wrenched backwards, gaining his attention.  Pushing yourself up, you kneel and lean against a crate to stand. 
Anger and spite pierced his sight as he stalked over and wrenched you back by your hair to knock you to the ground. This time however, he doesn’t aim for your face. You hear the crack before you feel it in your leg. His boot collides with your leg, a piercing scream wrenched from your throat as he shattered the bones in your lower leg. You arched your back in agony as he removed his boot and the pressure was released. 
Bucky and Sam are startled by an ear-piercing scream from the opposite side of the warehouse. They’re both up and back into the rush, not without struggle, to aid you. 
Blood rushes from the rest of your body to your injury, working to heal the wound. Pain pulsed through your entire body, throttling your brain as you tried to grasp for oxygen. You gasp for breath through the incredulous pain but black dots spot your vision, encasing you in darkness.
***
Your return to reality is brought upon by the knock at the door. You hum and tilt your head as you can’t see through the blinds covering the windows. Sam enters through the door dressed in his civilian clothes. He sports a couple scratches on his face and some bruising, but nonetheless, looks unharmed for the most part.
“Hey, how you feelin’, Y/N/N? You took a hard hit yesterday.”
You let out a deep exhale as you stare at the cast covering your leg, the IV tubing dragging along as you straightened out your blanket. Your mind was a bit hazy given the amount of pain relief you were on.
“It's rough, I’m not gonna lie.”, you chuckled.
Sam grinned knowingly, 
“If I know you, that cast isn’t gonna stop you from doing anything. Please be careful though, I need you in one piece.”
You shake your head,
“Sam, you don’t need me.”
“Nah, why are you suddenly so humble?”
A sliver of shame seeps into those wounds carved from previous years. Tears prick your eyes, causing you to shut them tightly and lean back on your pillow.
“I don’t know what happened out there.”
“Y/N/N, don’t beat yourself up. You held your own and I couldn’t have done this without you.”.
Your eyes creep open slowly and you’re finally able to see the big picture. You’ve always trusted Sam and his judgement. Whenever in doubt, you went to him for advice and he always seemed to have the answers. If the big circular bag leaning against the wall had to say anything, it was certainly a good omen of your efforts together. 
“It's that big heart of yours, Y/N/N. You always pull through for everyone.”
A smile creeps on your face and you finally feel yourself relax into the soft mattress of the bed.
“Thanks, Sam.”
Sam’s phone beeps and he pulls it from his pocket, checking the message. A smirk threatens to creep on his face but he suppresses it,
“There’s something I also need to tell you.”
You nod and urge him to continue.
He walks to the door and pulls it open,
“I’ve got a present for you.”
You look into the doorway and an eye-crinkly grin splays on your features. Joaquin Torres himself walks through the doorway, clad in his Lieutenant’s air force uniform. 
“You’re here!”, you exclaim excitedly.
He’s here.
“Y/N/N, how are you? Are you feeling okay? I rushed straight over as soon as I could.”, Joaquin rambles, scanning over you in concern. Cuts scatter across your face and jaw along with a black-eye under your right eye.
“I’m okay aside from the obvious broken limb. Don’t think I’ll be walking any time soon, that’s for sure.”, you both chuckled.
He nods thanks at Sam and skirts around the bed to take his seat beside your bed. 
“I’ll let you kids chat, but I’ll be back later.”
You mouth a thank you to Sam as he smiles and nods to you before shutting the door behind him.
Your attention is brought back to Joaquin as he sits forward in the chair, anxiously fiddling with his fingers. You stop him, grabbing for his left hand and squeezing it.
“Hey, what’s up? You seem more anxious than I’m feeling.”
Joaquin’s throat tightens and he strains to get out a sentence.
“I didn’t know how bad it was gonna be when I got here. Sam just told me you were in the hospital after the fight with Walker and-and I was really scared.”, he admits, tears glistening his sight. 
You remain silent, gripping his hand to acknowledge you are still listening.
“I know you’ve been on more missions than you can count. Maybe I shouldn’t be this worried but...what happens when I walk through that door and you’re not okay?”
He shakes his head, clenching his jaw tightly,
“I-I don’t know what…what I’d do.”
“Don’t worry about what if’s...”, you tilt his chin up to look at you. 
“I’m here. I’m a little banged up, yeah, but it’s been worse.”, you embarrassingly admit with a soft smile.
“I don’t think I could handle worse.”, he lets out a breathy laugh.
“Then you, Lieutenant, would not have liked me a couple years back.”, you teased.
Joaquin’s eyebrows perked up, 
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, I was always getting into trouble on missions. I remember this one time, I dived in front of a knife for Steve and got stabbed.”
His face returned to a blank expression as he pursed his lips.
“Yeah it hurt a lot, but you know what, it’s those missions that made me stronger. My final flaw will probably be stepping in even when people don’t want me to.”, you shake his hand again to greet his eyes. 
“But I’ll always be there, Joaquin when you need me. Even when I’m not physically there, I’m with you. Every step of the way.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to be there to jump in front of you.”
Your eyes shoot up in confusion.
“If you’re going to be throwing yourself in the line of danger, you bet I’m gonna be there. Every. Single. Time.”
“Well, I guess I’ve already welcomed you to my world.”, you smirked, pushing yourself up to lean on your hands. 
You lean closer to Joaquin as he sits on the edge of the bed, meeting you so you’re both at eye level. 
“I-”
“Can-”
You both let out breathy laughs, lowering your gaze before glancing back up. 
“You go first.”, you nod in encouragement.
“No, no, it’s fine.”, he shakes his head.
You perk your eyebrows teasingly and urge him to continue with a smack on his arm. 
“Y/N...I, Uh, care about you. A lot, actually. And I, uh, wanted to tell you before but things got in the way and-”, he pauses as he gazes softly at your endearing gaze. You listened to him with intrigue and interest, sending a warm feeling into his chest.
“I love you.”, he’s flickering across your features and body language to gauge your reaction, shock filling him the moment the words leave his lips. 
You’re suddenly tugging him forward by the waist and resting your head on his chest. His arms remain still in shock but encircle you as soon as he relaxes. You sigh and melt into his embrace, allowing him to just hold you. It’s been a long, long time since someone held you like this.
Gazing upward at him, you encircle your arms around his neck,
“I love you, Joaquin.”
“Pinch me so I know this is real.”, he whispered, his face hovering close to yours. 
“How about I do something better?”
You hovering lips meet Joaquin’s and meld together in a passionate moment. His hands grip your waist gently as you tug him closer to deepen the kiss. It's a sweet, sweet moment that you’ve both been waiting for. You don’t believe in soulmates but with Joaquin, you certainly had something akin to that feeling since you first met. You pull away, gasping for breath as Joaquin hovers closely to your face, also breathing deeply. You grin and peck his lips once, twice before he’s capturing your lips once more passionately. 
“For the record, I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time, Flyboy.”
Joaquin laughs, shaking his head, “I’ve been wanting to do it for just as long,”
You can’t suppress the grin that splays across your face as you intertwine your hands and pull him to lay next to you in the bed. You dismiss his protests that he might hurt you, laying your head on his chest. Joaquin slides one arm around your waist and the other to grip your hand in his. You listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and count them.
“Stay with me?”
You feel the rumbles of his voice as he replies,
“Of course, mi amor.” 
***
TAGS:
@asoftie4bucky @remmysbounty @literallyjustfanfiction
@cjsinkythoughts  @bubblegum28universe  @farfromjustordinary
@hocusbowie  @alainabooks143  @marvelnerd18 @samscaptain
@alexlynn16 @captainbarness @parkjammys @the-and-sign-anon @inspired-fandom-writer @nohemi2500 @cyarikashakira @supremethunda @nomorewsbucky @mrsdoradominguez-barnes
@buckybarneshttp  @plaiddshirt @gryffindorwriter @sventeen-daybreak @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @postycurrycorp  @barnes-zuko @naileesato
@vvipgot7be   @folkstyl-e @bobabitch88  @barzal-burakovsky @milf-lover-3000
216 notes · View notes
Text
Smoke & Mirrors - part 3
Neil x Reader
Chapter 3: You know me too well
(see chapter 2, 1)
summary: The mission. And some blowing off steam after that.
warnings: alcohol mention, some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT EVEN MORE THAN BEFORE
author’s note: I need to thank @vaneilla​ for planting the karaoke scene into my head. I found her choice of song absolutely glorious, and it evolved into... oh, see for yourselves.
As for everything else - I don’t even know.
4k words, bloody hell.
Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?
Tumblr media
___
“Thanks for nothing, Wheeler.”
She looked up from her tablet only to see a completely resigned Ives faceplanting on the couch in front of her. As she raised a brow, her glance drifted to The Protagonist pacing back and forth next to the window. 
When TP noticed the question in Wheeler’s eyes, he sighed. She realized that Ives must have filled him in already.
As if he could read her thoughts, the boss said, “Apparently, they’ve been at each other’s throats all day”
“You’re both damn lucky you don’t have to deal with their bullshit out there,” groaned Ives into the pillows.
Wheeler shook her head and a corner of her mouth curled into a knowing smile. 
“A little patience, guys. It's all going according to plan."
Ives muffled huff was enough of a comment, but TP stopped his pacing and shot her a confused look.
"How so?"
Wheeler bit her lip. It took her one minute around them in the canteen to guess what had happened. But if that somehow wasn’t obvious to her colleagues, she was in no place to share the information.
Of course, for a second she was tempted to say “oh, they fucked”,  just to watch Ives’ and TP’s reaction, but she knew better than to do so. Moreover, she had a weird feeling that those two morons would start being weird around them, and that wouldn’t help in the slightest. 
“Trust me, they are close to figuring it out. And then-...”
----------------
You rushed to the next cover, sending a round into a merc running in your direction. As you slid behind a crate and started reloading your rifle, the rest of the squad slowly made their way through the abandoned apartment complex. How all those mercenary groups kept getting their hands on inverted materials was beyond you, but as the boss was trying to figure it out, it was up to the ground teams to secure the cargo. 
"What's with the silent treatment today?" Neil’s voice rang in your earpiece. 
Your eyes quickly located him at the other side of the corridor. Even from a distance, you could see his raised brow as he glanced at you right before heading into the next room. 
"I'm focused on the mission,” you scoffed, checking out on the team before moving further ahead. “You should try that one day." 
As soon as you entered a new location, a bullet whizzed past you and your reflexes kicked in. A quick shot and you spun on your heel, hiding behind a pillar. 
Meanwhile, Neil glued his back to the wall. As another merc walked past him, he disarmed them in one swift move, tossing the gun away.
"Nah, I’m good,” he said casually. You watched him as he ducked under a fist flying at his face and threw a kidney punch himself. “Multitasking." 
You snorted, quite amused, jumping out of your cover to down two more men coming in. You caught Ives’ murderous glare as he moved past you, motioning you to keep up the pace. Nodding, you followed him into a staircase.
"I must admit, not hearing your voice almost made me forget how annoying you are,” you huffed through comms to Neil. Ives shot the merc waiting for you around the corner and you moved up. “And as I don't believe you can actually stop being annoying,” you continued, taking a position at the door, “but how about you don't talk to me ever again instead?" 
You heard footsteps behind you and as you looked over your shoulder, you saw Neil standing right there with his pistol cocked in his gloved hands. He leaned in, a smug grin plastered on his face.
"And lose that spiteful edge to sex we have going there?" he teased quietly and chuckled as your eyes widened at the audacity.
Wishing you could just shoot him in return, you turned away and entered the corridor. Ives waited for you at the door to another unfinished apartment and as soon as you reached him, he blasted through it, while Neil and his team took the door at the other side of the hall.  
"We, and I cannot stress this enough, do not have anything going there, blondie," you uttered through gritted teeth, sweeping through the rooms.
Sharp laughter resonated in your earpiece. 
"Sure sounds like someone needs round two, though."
Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the events of that late evening in the locker room. Neither of you has mentioned it for the last couple of days, and you kinda hoped it would stay that way. Not that you could ever erase it from your memory. And the worst part was, there were moments you were no longer sure you would ever want to.
A movement in the corner of your eye. 
That confusion might keep you up at night, but with daylight, you came back to your senses, and a little remark was not enough to cloud your lightning reflexes while you held a gun. A shot echoed through the room and another merc dropped to the ground. 
"In your dreams," you scoffed on your way back to the corridor. 
"Funny you should say that…" 
You noticed Neil walking into the line of fire in the last second.
“Watch out!” you shouted, grabbing him by the vest and pulling him back inside the apartment. You shoved him against the wall and pressed your forearm to his chest to keep him in place as the round meant for him cut through the now empty hallway. While the rest of the team returned fire and pushed forward, you caught a glimpse of fear in the blue eyes just before Neil managed to compose himself. The corner of his lips twitched into a nervous version of his usual half-smile.
For fuck’s sake...
“Well, this brings back fond memories,” he panted, raising an eyebrow.
You flashed your teeth and pressed him to the wall even harder. 
“Shut up and focus, goddamnit, or I swear I will let you walk straight into the next rain of bullets,” you fumed. 
Your serious glare made Neil gulp and nod slowly. You took a step back as you exhaled shakily. 
Readjusting the rifle’s strap, you shook off any remains of panic from your system. Neil watched you with an indecipherable expression on his face as he reloaded his pistol. You met his eyes, just to make sure he was good to go. Finding there what you were looking for, you smacked his arm lightly and ran towards the sounds of combat.
You joined your squad, focusing on providing support as you closed in on the final location. Neil rushed to the front of the action, and even from afar you could see his moves got more vicious, every blow and shot landing now with deadly precision. For a second you wondered what exactly got triggered inside of him back there.
Whatever that was though, it wasn’t enough to hold his tongue for too long.
"Hey, at least now you had a chance to slam me against a wall."
You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically, already regretting saving his infuriating ass. 
“You know, I daydream about strangling you more and more often every day.”
A few shots later, the all-clear sounded through the earpiece. You moved to secure the exit as Ives checked the contents of the crates in the back of the room. 
Neil took a position right next to you, eyeing you curiously.
“Is it a threat or a promise?”
Seeing the familiar roguish sparks sent your blood boiling.
You narrowed your eyes, letting a sly grin on your face.
“Do you really wanna find out?”
“You two either kill or fuck each other already,” huffed Ives, walking by you with the most done expression you’d seen on him in years. “Whatever you decide, please keep it off comms, eh?”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to blush furiously. Neil’s failed attempt at stifling an amused giggle wasn’t helping in the slightest. 
As you finally looked back at the bane of your existence, he tilted his head, biting his lip before speaking up again, and somehow you knew exactly what he was about to say.
“I’m up for whatever.”
You groaned.
...yep, that was it.
----------------
One of the teams’ unwinding rituals included going to the nearby pub for drinks and karaoke. You weren’t the biggest fan of singing in public yourself and no amount of alcohol could change that, but you never skipped the opportunity of watching your squadmates getting shitfaced and pouring their hearts out through the mic. That night was no different, and even though you were taking it easy with drinking, the rest of the crew was already deep in the party mood. 
You watched Wheeler singing Black Velvet from your spot at the counter. You used to spend much more time together, but she’d got designated to leading inverted teams and you got stuck at Ives’ squad. Not that you were complaining. 
You always had good banter with him, and even the unfortunate beginning of your relationship wasn’t enough to change that. You ended up being good friends and you knew he always had your back no matter what. Even when he was absolutely tired of your bullshit. 
You cringed at the memory of his comment earlier that day. 
And because the universe wasn’t done with tormenting you just yet, you felt Neil’s presence next to you. You turned your head and glanced at him, ready to meet his aggravating stare. To your surprise, you found him standing there with his eyes fixed on his drink instead, evidently having an internal battle with himself. 
Neil noticed your puzzled expression and took a big sip from the glass before looking at you. A sheepish smile on his lips was something new, and it only made you even more confused.
“Hey,” he said, raking the fingers through his hair. “Thank you. For earlier.”
“Don’t mention it,” you huffed, frowning slightly.
“It’s nice to know you have my back, just in case.”
You were annoyed that he was making such a big deal out of it. But there was something in the blue eyes that softened your gaze and you gave Neil a reassuring smile.
“Of course,” you said and cleared your throat. “Besides,“ - a corner of your lips twitched - “I couldn’t let you get killed in such a stupid way right under my nose, I wouldn’t want it to taint my next eval’.”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “No other reason?”
“Like what?” 
You regretted asking the question as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course, Neil’s eyes lit up in response and he smirked.
“You would miss me.”
"Ah, there it is," you snorted, fighting the urge to punch him. "For a moment I was scared I was starting to like you, thanks."
He chuckled. “Oh no, we wouldn't want that now, would we," he teased, leaning your way with a roguish smile.
You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore the heart fluttering in your chest.
Neil hummed and downed his drink. A mischievous spark in his eyes suddenly made you nervous. 
“What now?” you asked, dreading the answer already.
Neil’s expression was nothing but innocent. 
“I believe it’s my turn.” 
You watched him make his way to the mic. Letting out a deep sigh, you shook your head. 
That man was going to be the death of you one day.
You finished your drink and joined the rest of the team in the booth right in front of the makeshift scene. As soon as you sat down, a familiar song started and your widened eyes darted at Neil, who was just casually adjusting the rolled-up sleeves of his striped shirt. 
...it must have been a mistake.
His wicked grin as he met your horrified gaze was enough to tell you he knew exactly what he was doing.
He started singing with no hesitation, smiling to himself.
Under the lovers sky
Gonna be with you
And no one's gonna be around 
Neil’s eyes fixed on you and he raised a brow. A small incoherent noise escaped your mouth, luckily drowning in your squad’s encouraging whooping.
If you think that you won't fall
Well just wait until
'Til the sun goes down 
You met Wheeler’s amused look over the table.
“Why is he that way?” you whined, hiding your face in your palms. 
Underneath the starlight, starlight
There's a magical feeling so right 
You could hear the smile in his voice and you forced yourself to glance back at Neil. 
it will steal your heart tonight 
Catching your eyes again, he winked, making you exhale sharply in response.
You can try to resist
Try to hide from my kiss
You thought about the way you evaded his kiss at that locker room and your chest tightened at that memory.
Don't you know, don't you know
That you, can't fight the moonlight
He knew the song by heart, and you couldn’t wrap your head around that fact.
Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart
But you know, but you know that you
And by the way he commanded everyone’s attention, you saw it wasn’t his first performance. 
Can't fight the moonlight. No
His voice was clear and he was definitely having fun up there.
You can't fight it
...too much fun, if anybody asked you.
It's gonna get to your heart
He walked up to the booth and a spike of panic flashed in your brain.
There's no escaping love
He made his way to Ives, a mischievous grin lighting his face.
Once the gentle breeze
Neil ran a finger along your friend’s bearded jaw, leaving Ives frozen in shock. 
Weaves a spell upon your heart
Neil turned to you and your breath hitched as you realized what was about to happen.
No matter what you think
A few steps more.
It won't be too long
He stopped right in front of you.
'Til you're in my arms
He leaned your way, putting a finger under your chin and tilting it up gently.
Underneath the starlight, starlight
He moved even closer, his eyes wandering along your features.
We'll be lost in the rhythm so right
The emphasis on the last words combined with the look on his face made your mind go blank.
Feel it steal your heart tonight
...that was clearly his plan for the night, huh?
You forced yourself to start breathing again as Neil chuckled through the next line. 
Bloody hell, you hated the effect he had on you. 
You caught a glimpse of a smug smile before he turned away. Leveling your breath, you watched as he stepped back on the stage, hoping he wouldn’t have any other stupid ideas.
But Neil seemed to be satisfied with what he’d put you through and just continued the song. 
He even aimed for one of the high notes, scrunching his nose and giggling as his voice wavered for a second, and you couldn’t stop your lips from curling at the sight. There was something endearing in his joyful demeanor out there, and you wondered how many sides to him you had yet to discover.
Before you had a chance to get too soft, he finished singing and looked at you again. The dark shade in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. 
You needed another drink. Stat.
At least he had enough decency to let you collect yourself before he joined you at the bar. Neil ordered a vodka tonic and leaned his back against the counter, eyeing you curiously.
“So?”
You stifled a giggle, shaking your head. “For a second I thought you might start dancing on the counter."
He laughed at the reference.
"And for a second, I thought about doing that,” he said, reaching for his drink. He smiled slyly at your amused snort and continued, lowering his voice slightly, “but I didn't want you to lose your mind. Or faint, for that matter… I want you conscious for later."
Neil took a sip from the glass, savoring the effect of his words on you as you stared at him with a slack jaw.
"You want me--"
"Yes." 
You blinked rapidly, composing yourself. The last thing you needed was to give him the satisfaction of making you flustered so easily. 
But you couldn’t resist playing his game even for a moment. 
Just to see if he would back down.
"And what is it exactly that you think it's gonna happen later?" you said, taking a step in his direction. 
Neil raised a brow, turning your way. His gaze flared up as he searched your eyes for your intentions, moving even closer to you.
"Spoilers.”
"Riiight,” you smirked. The rising temperature between the two of you was slowly hazing over your mind, making your breath shallow as you taunted, “Or maybe you're all talk."
The throaty chuckle sent the heart racing in your chest. 
"Want to try me?" he teased, grazing his knuckles against your bare arm, and it took all your resolve not to tremble at the sensation. 
The pulse pounded in your ears as you took his drink from his hand, finishing it in one swing. You looked into his eyes, dark and yearning, and a corner of your lips curled.
"Well, no need to wait 'til the sun goes down', anymore."
“Blimey.”
A few moments later, you found yourself in an empty restroom, tugging at Neil’s shirt until your back hit the cold wall. His wicked grin widened at your eagerness as he grabbed your waist with one hand, running the other one through your hair. You splayed your palms on his heaving chest, moving them up to his neck to pull him closer. 
Neil tilted his head and leaned in to kiss you, but just as your lips were about to meet, your whole body tensed and it was enough to make him stop instantly. He pulled back to look at you, concerned.
"What's wrong?” he asked in a husky voice. 
You huffed, frustrated. At your own reaction. At him suddenly being all gentleman about it. And at yourself again, for not appreciating his concern. 
But it wasn’t the right moment to talk about it, and you were pretty sure he would be all weird about it if you didn’t say anything. 
"It's just--... “ you hesitated, your mind rushing to find any plausible excuse. As you finally found one, your face lit up and you nibbled at your bottom lip, staring at him challengingly. “Don't you get all soft on me now, blondie." 
You almost squirmed under his predatory gaze. Neil brought his hand to your throat, and as his fingers wrapped around it, he leaned to whisper to your ear.
"Suit yourself."
When his teeth grazed your earlobe, you gasped, feeling the feverish heat rushing through your veins. His mouth trailed down your neck as he moved his hand higher, tilting your chin with his thumb just before he brushed it against your lips. You shut your eyes and bit back a moan, feeling Neil smiling and then he ran the tip of his tongue along the crook of your neck.
All of the sudden, you heard voices on the other side of the door. Before you could react, Neil grabbed your hand and pulled you into the stall at the farthest corner of the restroom, turning the lock and pinning you to the wall again with your wrists above your head.
You exhaled sharply as you spotted the roguish sparks in his eyes. 
As some people entered the restroom, Neil stroked your temple with his nose and breathed, “Looks like we need to keep quiet.“ 
You swallowed hard and shuddered, the pulse thumping in your ears.
Still keeping his fingers wrapped around your wrists, his other hand wandered down your body slowly. He studied the way you melted into his touch, taking pleasure at the sight of the animalistic need that clouded your eyes. The last coherent thought left your mind when you felt his hand sliding under your dress, grazing against your thighs, higher and higher, and you bucked your hips, silently urging him to keep moving. 
Neil’s lips parted slightly and he leaned in, kissing your neck just as his fingers trailed under the hem of your panties right to your pulsing core. You threw the head back against the wall and your thighs tightened involuntarily as if to prevent him from backing away now.
“Christ, I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet,” Neil chuckled breathlessly to your ear and yanked your underwear down your legs in one swift motion. Securing the grip on your wrists, he palmed over you again, moving his hand back and forth, his digits pressing against your folds firmer with every stroke and you let out an inaudible gasp, feeling the fire at the pit of your stomach growing by the minute. 
But when his thumb started rubbing circles over your clit, you buried your face in the crook of his neck to stifle a cry ready to escape your mouth any second now. Without skipping a beat, Neil gently tapped his foot on the side of your shoe and you instantly followed his suggestion, spreading your legs for him. He hummed in approval, slipping one, then two, fingers into you, and you sank your teeth in your bottom lip as the sudden bolt of pleasure seared your every nerve. 
Neil picked up the pace, curling his fingers inside you just right, and a quiet moan built in your throat and you nuzzled your face into his neck even further; the spicy scent of his cologne ingraining in your hazed mind with every shaky breath you took. 
Feeling you getting closer to the edge, Neil let go of your wrists and pushed you back on the wall. Cupping your face with his free hand, he pressed a thumb against your mouth firmly. You panted heavily as he kept tracing your parted lips in almost the same rhythm as his fingers slid in and out of your throbbing core. You closed your eyes as the fire from the pit of your stomach almost consumed you. 
And just when you thought that you couldn’t take much more, you felt the pad of his thumb grazing against the tip of your tongue at the same time the other one flicked your clit. Your mind went blank and you sucked on his finger, trying to muffle a whimper.
“Good girl,” Neil breathed into your ear. “Now come for me.”
And so you did, your every particle dissolving into a blissful pleasure roaming through your body wave after wave. 
When you regained your senses, you were greeted by the self-satisfied grin you knew all too well. You scoffed and shook your head, too much of a mess to form a coherent comment. You listened for a second, trying to figure out if there was anyone outside, but it seemed that you two were alone, at least for now. Then your eyes wandered down and your mouth watered at the sight. 
Without thinking twice over it, you palmed the bulk in Neil’s trousers, looking up to meet his gaze. 
The hint of surprise mixed with the sheer hunger in the dark blue eyes made your racing heart skip a bit.
"Are you sure?" he rasped, placing hands on your waist.
You nodded, your fingers already fighting with his belt. 
"Stop talking."
Neil raised a brow, amused. 
"Maybe you should ask nicely."
You looked at him in disbelief and turned towards the stall’s door, huffing, "Maybe I should leave you like this."
Neil wrapped his arms around you.
"Mhm," he murmured into your neck as he squeezed your breast, his other hand sliding down your body.
"Fuck--" you gasped as his fingers pressed to your clit again.
His throaty chuckle vibrated on your back.
"What was that?" 
You moaned, rolling your hips to brush against him.
"...please."
----------------
You dampened a paper towel to clean your smudged makeup.
"Wanna grab something to eat?"
You glanced at Neil’s reflection in the mirror, watching as he tucked the shirt in his pants.
"You're reading too much into this,” you tried to make your voice as casual as possible.
"I wouldn't dare," he laughed, joining you by the mirror. "What if I promise not to talk to you unless you ask me to?" 
You mused over it for a moment, staring at Neil’s attempts to fix his messy hair.
"And if you break the promise?"
The blue eyes met yours and lit up.
"I'll let you punish me however you see fit."
You scoffed. 
...but then a corner of your lips twitched into a half-smile.
(next chapter ->)
152 notes · View notes
dashedwithromance · 4 years
Text
Slithered Here From Eden - Princewitch
KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS!!! I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW SPOILERY THIS FIC IS. THE HEIGHT OF SPOILERS!! THE PEAK OF SPOILERS!! THIS IS A VERY LOUD WARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KINGDOM OF THE WICKED SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT DO NOT KEEP READING IF YOU DONT WISH TO BE SPOILED THANK YOUUUUUU
anyways here is my first princewitch fic!! i hope you guys like it, and let me know if you have any ideas for fics for those two. im a little nervous to put this out here - ive written only cressworth and original stuff for a while, so im kinda nervous this wont be in character or will be weird in my style. anyway, please let me know if you like this, and if its something you want more of. im already working on a few others, courtesy of @duchess-of-nothing-and-nowhere ‘s brilliant ideas, but send in any requests you have!!! i hope you guys enjoy, thank you!!!!!
---
Hell was, well, hell.
Her husband was busy doing whatever kings of Hell did in their spare time, which she was thankful for. She didn’t wish to run into any of the Wicked, but Pride was close to the top of the list. Not the worst offender, however. The Prince she’d once tentatively called an ally had claimed that spot with his spectacularly humiliating betrayal. 
The worst part was that she still didn’t understand. His motives, his feelings, his aims - all were shrouded in mystery, one that seemed to taunt her at every twist and turn. Bastard. 
Contrary to her preconceptions, her rooms were actually rather beautiful. Similar to the style of the house Wrath had rented in Palermo, but it felt different. Darker. Her quarters were styled in black and gold, with serpent scones lining the walls. The fire flickered in a menacing fashion, though she’d long since learned it had more bark than bite. 
Shadows crept along the floor until they curled at her feet like a cat, announcing the presence of the one demon prince she wished to see the least. 
“What do you want.” Emilia barely gave him a glance before he walked him, arrogance pouring off him. As if he owned the damn place. 
Infuriatingly beautiful as usual, he wore a dark suit, flecked with golden patterns, not unlike the tattoo she knew adorned his shoulder. Her attention flicked to the wicker basket he held gingerly in his hands. Covered with a soft blue tea towel, it looked like something plucked off the streets of her home, not something that belonged within the obsidian walls of the kingdom where wickedness ruled with abandon. 
Silence was his only reply as he looked her up and down. The gaze threatened to set her alight; with rage or desire, she wasn’t entirely sure. Once, the bed that loomed behind her would’ve offered a taunting distraction and a fragile but desperate wish. Now, it only annoyed her, reminding her of the moments she’d failed so magnificently at seeing through his façade.
Still no response. They hadn’t spoken since her wedding, and their last words had been less of a conversation and more of throwing of well-deserved insults on her behalf. He’d told her that she knew nothing of his motivations, and to assume he wished her harm was foolish. She’d told him a few carefully chosen expletives, complete with a hand gesture that would’ve had her mother wringing her hands. Wrath had spent the days prior skulking outside her quarters, never saying a word, only letting his shadows pollute her already foul mood. She might’ve had the slightest amount of sympathy for him, had he not betrayed her, lied to her, married her to his brother and thoroughly pissed her off in the process.
He placed the basket down on the table at the other side of the room. Looking up, Wrath raised a carefully groomed brow. Apparently, princes of Hell had beauty routines.
His mood was undetectable through his face, but the shadows that followed him gave it away, if only slightly. They were the same dark as a summer night; dark enough for comfort, but not the soulless black pitch she’d seen him wear so often. An interesting combination for a prince who seemed to care not a whit whether she lived or died after he’d gotten what he wanted.
Wrath pulled back the cloth covering the basket to reveal – food. A carefully curated selection of her favourites, smelling like they’d been plucked off the serving plates of the Sea & Vine.
She nearly salivated at the sight – the food she’d eaten in Hell had been a sore spot for her. Though nothing was wrong with it, it lacked the love of homemade food. The flavour that came with knowing that someone lovingly made every single bite. There were no laughing families who cooked here, no fathers to taste-test, or sisters to tease while they made sangria side by side.
  “How on earth did you find this?” The words slipped out before she could correct herself. ‘Earth’ was perhaps not the right term, though she couldn’t truly tell where she was. Under, felt more accurate. Below.
He looked at her as if she was missing the obvious – and she was.
The food smelt like she was used to because it was what she was used to. The same recipes, made with the same care as every meal that came from the Sea & Vine kitchens.
Panic enveloped her faster than joy.
“Did you hurt them?” She hissed, desperately searching his appearance for any sign of violence. He was wearing black, that much was true, but either he cleaned up exceptionally well, or there was no blood to be found.
“Hurt them?” Wrath’s tone was even, but she could hear how he scoffed. The nerve, “No. I even paid for it.”
Her heart still beat fast enough to burst from her chest, so he continued, “Relax, witch. No harm has come to them, nor will it, if you comply with my brother’s terms.” There was no audible threat in his tone, but she knew it went without saying. Comply, be Pride’s blooded wife, or her family would receive the same fate as Vittoria. It hurt to even think about, however brief the thought was.
She was going to throw something right at his beautiful, awful face. Maybe the basket, once she was finished devouring her favourites. Wrath would certainly look ridiculous enough with a basket slammed over his head, if he didn’t kill her first.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you fear.” Emilia blinked, unsure how to respond. He seemed to be lingering, if demon princes could ever linger. Why wouldn’t he leave?
She nodded, restraining a biting retort about how she was sure that fact was a deep disappointment for him. Remembering the odd rules of demonhood, she thanked him.
Still, he wouldn’t leave. Just stood there, watching her with those golden eyes that peered into her very soul, reaching inside and setting her alight. His gaze was unnerving.
Her patience, which had thinned dramatically since becoming a co-ruler of Hell, waned, “Are you waiting for payment?”
He laughed. Actually laughed. A short, biting sound, but a laugh nonetheless.
“I could smell your foul mood from my own House. Perhaps this will appease you.”
Appease her. As if it were that simple. As if he hadn’t tricked her, lied to her by omission, made her into an even greater fool than the one she was.
“Perhaps if you deigned to be truthful, I would be more polite.” Lies, but worth a try. If only he would tell her something, anything by way of explanation. Even if it was brutally cruel and benefitting a member of the Wicked. Anything but the agony of anticipation.
Apparently this evening was full of more surprises, because Wrath then pulled out a chair, and gestured for her to sit down, like they weren’t sworn enemies. The thought of a biting retort was attractive, but the smell of food was too much. The scent of all her favourites, food she’d spent hours labouring over in the past, wafted towards her like an irresistible gift.
The basket held everything she dreamt of. Wrath laid the table with his harvest as she tried not to gape at the sight. Twin glasses of sangria, somehow still delightfully cold. The comforting smell of garlic and fresh herbs permeated the air. Plates piled high with a mix of all her favourite things: a selection of antipasto, a side plate of bruschetta, a bowl of pasta, and a small dish of cannoli. If she closed her eyes, and forgot the presence of the prince in front of her, she could picture being back home, surrounded by her family and loved ones. If she thought hard enough, she could faintly smell Vittoria’s favourite perfume, the one she made for herself.
When she opened her eyes, the dream faded away, and there was only Wrath sitting across from her. Despite all the effort she presumed he must’ve taken to fetch the food, he sat watching like he thought it was attack him. Or she would. A laugh escaped her lips, almost hysterical, at the situation. Her, Queen of Hell, sat with her husband’s brother, another demon prince, as they ate food from her family’s restaurant. Comical, if disturbing.
“It won’t bite,” She said, eagerly helping herself to a plate. His eyes flickered with the promise of his bite, and she fought to keep any sign of her reaction off her face. Now was not the time to think of his kiss, or goddess forbid, his tongue. Watching carefully, he followed suit, piling his plate high with a mirror of her own. If she didn’t know the strength that lurked beneath that bronze skin and manicured hands, she would’ve called it sweet.
The food was – the food was heavenly. The taste of home, the love of her family, the promise of safety offered in those few bites brought her more joy than she thought possible. She wanted to stretch out the meal forever, as long as time would permit. If this was the last time she would taste such heaven, she wanted to remember it.
Despite her anger at the demon sitting across from her, curiosity embedded itself in her mind. How could he have known? How could he have known this was exactly what she needed, what her soul craved? Just as he’d done with the orange blossoms after Lust, he’d somehow known her mind and soul needing nourishment, and brought it as a gift to her door. Perhaps there would be a price to be paid, someday, but for now, her happiness was enough.
It was ridiculous and Nonna would’ve scolded her dearly, but it was the first semblance of normal she’d had since signing her name over to Pride. The meal sent flashbacks of the time she’d spent after Lust had invaded her mind; the days she’d spent lying in bed, a stranger in her own body, while Wrath sat like a comforting guardian demon. They hadn’t spoken, but he’d delivered her meals thrice daily, and never left her side unless to fetch her clothes from his mysterious source, or to give her privacy if she’d asked. He’d even brought her reading materials, though they were filled with battle strategies, not the steamy romances she craved. At the time, she’d thought it was a sign that maybe, just maybe, Wrath was different. Now, she only felt the white-hot flush of shame. Her appetite faded, and she pushed the plate away.
He catalogued her change in mood with a barely perceptible nod of his head. Truly, she had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes she thought he was terrified for her, her witch-blood and mortal heart acting as a beacon for all those whom Pride had made an enemy. Sometimes she thought he wanted to kiss her until her lips were swollen and she begged him for release. Sometimes she thought her presence disgusted him to a never-ending degree. A mystery.
“You need to be careful,” He broke the silence with a warning, as if she treated Hell like a stroll along Sicilian streets.
“It would help if you told me anything.” She hated the petulant near-whine of her voice, but it couldn’t be helped. She had nothing and no-one in the world, but she needed an ally. Or, if she couldn’t have that, information would have to do.
“I’ve already told you too much.” Lies. Complete lies.
Her questioning had bored him, she assumed, as he stood up to go, leaving the remnants of their meal scattered around them. Wrath cast one last look at her before stalking out, taking the shadows with him.
Just as she was about to curse his name, she spotted a bouquet of orange blossoms on the dresser.
Bastard.
---
Let me know if you want to be added to my KOTW tag list!!
Tags: @shadowturtlesstuff @otome-azarada @chococannolii @beccalovesbooksstuff
146 notes · View notes
mari-beau · 3 years
Text
GIVE ME A REASON: PART ONE -A Rogue One Fanfic
So… This is my playing with Jyn and what happened Post-Scarif in my headcanon where Cassian and Jyn survive. Sort of a companion piece to my fic ‘Partners’ (in that it takes place in the same sort of AU).
Title: Give Me A Reason: Part One
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor
Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)
Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope
Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope
Warnings: None? (references to scars/wounds and some hurt/comfort, angst? Half-nakedness? Jyn being a bit of an overprotective b****?)
Words: 1283
Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.
There was a buzzing in Jyn Erso’s head. It cut through the blissful haze, sharp and shrill.
No.
Was her first and only thought. The buzz stopped.
Mmm, better. She turned her face into the fragrant warmth of bare male skin, and sleep settled back over her like a blanket.
Another shrill buzz tore that pleasant blanket of contentment off her with a jarring shock.
Fine.
She opened her eyes, found her companion still fast asleep -which was good, he needed it- realized the buzzing was the door chime and made her best attempt to slip out of the bed without waking him. Fortunately, his sleep over the past few days had been more akin to comatose unconsciousness, and he didn’t even stir.
Son of a Vekrak.
Jyn looked around the small military quarters but ultimately gave up. Her clothes had disappeared when she’d woken up in the infirmary, replaced with a medical tunic and pants, which were currently in a pile buried beneath other dirty clothes in the corner of the room. But any body parts the sight of which would scandalize most species, were covered, and as for others, well that was whoever was disturbing her nap’s problem.
And she had to get to the door to cease the annoying buzzing alarm before the idiot disturbed her companion as well. Or else, she might not be responsible for what she did to them.
Not if they caused Cassian Andor any harm, in any form, even if it was just waking him up.
Jyn tapped the door controls a little harder than necessary, but preempted another buzz of the chime, the intruder standing in the hall with their finger raised to the outside controls.
It was a woman, in Alliance uniform, who promptly came to attention. Why exactly, Jyn couldn’t guess. Jyn may have led a tragedy of a suicide mission on behalf of the rebellion, but she hadn’t officially joined up, had no rank (or probably right to even be) on the Yavin 4 base.
Oh.
The formality of the woman’s response was to mitigate her obvious surprise and discomfort. Her blue eyes wandered about rather frantically, taking in Jyn’s appearance, the quarters behind her, the bed with the (hopefully still) sleeping captain who looked like he’d been through a war, which he literally had. Her eyes went back to Jyn, avoiding her face, lingering a little bit too much on the non-soldier’s bare legs. Apparently, the undergarments she had borrowed from Cassian’s meager stock of clothing did not merit ‘decent enough to answer the door’.
It wasn’t like they were too tight, revealed too much… Okay, so the sleeveless undershirt was thin enough that Jyn’s nipples probably showed through, but while it probably fit Cassian pretty snug, it was not like it was skin tight on her. And the undershorts were likewise a little loose, which had forced her to roll the waistband down to below her hip bones. But still… Hadn’t the woman ever seen another woman sleeping in a man’s undergarments?
Blue eyes darted to Jyn’s rat’s nest hair, fell to her mostly exposed shoulder, the one with the angry looking blaster scar, still fresh, pink and aggressively thickly textured.
Jyn sighed. Honestly, could she blame the woman for staring?
“Can I help you?” she asked, taking pity on the soldier.
“Uh, yes, uh… Miss Erso.” The blue eyes finally settled on Jyn’s face and the woman seemed to steel herself to face the uncivilized heathen. “I’ve been sent with a request from Command for Captain Andor.”
Jyn narrowed her eyes as the woman’s gaze slid past the half-dressed civilian again, this time for more than a glance at the man lying in the bed, who was even more naked than Jyn was, as she’d left him in just a pair of undershorts, a lightweight blanket only covering his hips and upper thighs. Parts of him were still covered in bandages, his skin discolored with bruises both dark and faded, a fresh blaster scar on his side to match Jyn’s. Nearly every vulnerable part of him was exposed. But the base was on a farking jungle moon, and while the higher ups’ quarters likely had decent environmental controls, it could get stifling in the lowly spy-captain’s small room, especially with two bodies squeezed into the same narrow cot.
But Jyn wasn’t about to sleep anywhere else. For her own sanity, she had to be close, until she was certain he could protect himself again. He was too vulnerable as he recovered from his Scarif injuries. He was too vulnerable to be ogled by some Alliance messenger girl.
Putting a hand on the doorframe, Jyn moved to fill the space as best she could with her petite body, blocking the other woman’s view of Cassian as much as she could.
“He can’t take any of Command’s orders,” Jyn said, knowing the underling didn’t deserve her disdain but unable to keep the bitterness from showing. Cassian had given everything just short of his actual death to the rebellion. “He’s on medical leave.”
Force, he couldn’t yet stay awake for more than a handful of hours a day, could barely stand upright, let alone walk more than a few steps.
“They want you both to come to the ceremony this evening,” the messenger girl said hastily, slurring most of the words together as Jyn reached for the door controls to close it in the soldier’s face.
Jyn hesitated, completely thrown. “Ceremony?”
“To recognize the heroes that defeated the Death Star. And to honor those who lost their lives, in that battle. And on Scarif. As the only Alliance survivors, Command wanted you and Captain Andor to be present.”
Jyn rolled her eyes. What difference to the dead did it make? Why should she care about appeasing Command’s conscience? It wasn’t worth dragging Cassian from his recovery to be paraded about so the Alliance could feel good about itself. Jyn had done what needed doing, just as Cassian had, just as the others had. It was pain and sorrow and death. And no amount of ‘thank you for your valor’ or whatever bantha shit would make it better.
The satisfaction, the only justification that soothed Jyn’s conscience, was that they had done the job, had defeated Krennic. But what if Cassian needed more to assuage any survivor’s guilt he’d been accumulating? Beneath that stoic exterior of his, she sensed a very soft, troubled soul.
“I’ll tell the captain when he wakes,” Jyn said. “It’s his decision. He might not be up to it.”
“I’ll inform Command that you may be absent.” The soldier shifted her weight. “It starts in 3 hours.”
Jyn frowned. “That’s kind of last minute.”
“Well, once the decision was made to evacuate, there was a bit of a rush to-”
“Evacuate?!” Force, you hole up in a man’s bed for a few days and you lose all touch with the outside world.
“Uh, yes. The Empire is sending a fleet as fast as possible to destroy Yavin base.” It was apparent on the woman’s face that this quick task someone had sent her on was turning into a conversation she hadn’t bargained for. “Someone should be around with your evacuation unit assignment soon. Captain Andor will probably either be grouped with his Intelligence garrison or…” Another glance at the unconscious wounded man (which Jyn didn’t know why it irked her that someone dared look at him, but it got her temper up fierce). “Or he’ll be put in with medical evac.”
The soldier had made no implication either way, and Jyn didn’t even bother asking whether she’d be assigned to the same unit as Cassian. Because it didn’t matter what the Alliance said, Jyn wouldn’t be leaving his side.
Read Part Two
17 notes · View notes
Text
Captain Georgiou January - February Day 3′s scheduled creation is by Al @dykekeit​. Thank you to Al for sharing this essay!
Here’s the thing: this story isn’t about me. I’m white and Jewish―not exactly lacking for representation in Star Trek, even if I am a lesbian―not with the ta’al itself coming from the Kol Nidre service, not with Benjamin Sisko’s character more closely resembling Moses than any other religious figure. How many times have I seen myself, loved myself, in Trek? I’ve taken heart in Leonard Nimoy’s Yiddish, in Jim Kirk’s Tarsus IV backstory, in Benjamin Sisko the reluctant prophet and in Kira Nerys, fighting for her traditions amidst pressure to assimilate or die.
And yet, the first time I saw the trailer for Discovery, I almost burst out crying hearing Michelle Yeoh’s voice—her accent, the way she pronounced Shenzhou, seeing her in the captain’s chair—because it felt so much like home.
Like I said, this story isn’t about me. This is a story about my sensei.
I still don’t know what name she was born with, growing up just outside of Hong Kong. When she arrived in the United States, there was no large Chinese community on the east coast in those days; she didn’t speak English, and no one around her spoke Cantonese. She was alone, totally alone. I still can’t fathom the sheer amount of chutzpah it took for her to stand her ground and carve out her place the way she did, but I know what it took: a skill for organization, a love of scheduling, a gift for disdainful silences, and an intense, rigid sense of etiquette. When you stand barely five feet tall, it’s all necessary.
Sensei loves gardening and darjeeling tea, and hates anything sweet to the point that I have gone out of my way to buy her chocolate above 70% grade dark. Oh, and did I mention? She loves Star Trek.
Sensei gravitates towards characters like Spock, like Data: immigrants, constant strangers among new and adopted cultures alike, repeatedly explaining their differences and saving face and proudly, wholly themselves, no matter if people understand them or not. They are characters who defy expectations and use every difference as a strength, no matter if it’s supposed to be a weakness. I wonder, sometimes, as she’s teaching me about the protective properties of jade bracelets and how the good Jewish delis she knew used to serve thinly sliced beef tongue for sandwiches, but not any more—were the stars visible in Hong Kong, growing up? Did she want to escape to the dark sky, to the other side of the world—anywhere?
How did I meet her? Well, when she was thirty-nine, my sensei took up kendo, the Japanese martial art of fencing, and almost twenty-five years later, she had reached fifth-dan (that’s fifth degree black belt!) Into her dojo I stumbled. Picture this: me, a clumsy, skinny Jewish lesbian, never worked out in my life, thought swords were kind of cool, walking into a dojo and finding a sixty-something Chinese woman who, though she barely came up to my chest, could kick the butts of every single much-younger six-foot-plus male student she had.
I guess it’s not surprising I stayed.
Over the next six years, my sensei taught me everything, and not just about kendo. In between correcting my wrist angles, my posture, my follow-through, my footwork, my uniform, my dojo etiquette, and anything else she could think of, there were moments of life coaching: how to focus, how to be disciplined in everything I do, how to help, how to put other people first. When I burst out crying during practice, she reminds me that the dojo is a safe place for emotions. She introduced me to Hong Kong-style diner food, showed me real dim sum and how to order and eat and share it properly, cultivated a lucky money plant for me to bring home and instructed me where to put it in my house for best feng shui, advised me to begin acupuncture for stress, told me to take more initiative when pouring tea for other visiting sensei. On the worst day of my life, I wanted her advice. Once, I managed to get a signed copy of Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club addressed to her personally. When I presented it to her and she learned I hadn’t read it, she turned around and gave it right back to me, insisting with a smile that I read it first so that we could talk about it together.
In the middle of all of it, a new Star Trek show, called Discovery, was announced, and soon, a new trailer dropped. The captain’s name was Philippa Georgiou, and she was played by Michelle Yeoh.
I did nearly burst out crying. It was Michelle Yeoh, but all I could see was Sensei, in command and speaking her accented English, proof of a past beyond a Starfleet that demanded “standard” English for assimilation.
Captain Georgiou was concerned with etiquette, both social and honor-bound: Starfleet doesn’t fire first. In the dojo, I am to bow respectfully, I am to shake hands and thank my opponent after every match, I do not hit just to hit or shy away in fear. The only way a kendo match works is with mutual communication; an opponent is not a faceless thing to be beaten so much as a partner to create opportunities. We may strike first, but we are not aggressors.
Captain Georgiou said: the best way to know yourself is to know others. Take care of those who are in your care. I still remember the time I watched a fellow dojo member rush across the tournament floor because someone had the wrong-colored tasuki to change it without a thought—because he had noticed a problem, therefore he must help. I sat there, frozen. I told Sensei this story later with absolute wonderment and shame and she just smiled, patted my hand, and shared some of her favorite raisin walnut bread with me. She knew the lesson had stuck. Other times, she has snapped at me for forgetting to hold a door open for other people, but—
Captain Georgiou: disciplined, teasing, dedicated, setting stars and valuing candor: your confidence is justified. My shock when Sensei first told a few of the other girls and I some dirty jokes late at night before that same tournament was only matched by how funny it was, and how it was immediately followed with a discussion of our weaknesses in shiai combat, and what our approach both physically and mentally would be for the tournament the following day.
I wonder, through fanfiction and fanart and discussion with others, what Philippa shared of the universe with those around her—with Michael, with Saru, with all those under her care.
I once told Sensei that reading The Joy Luck Club and trying to understand all the Chinese cultural nuances from an outside perspective was like looking through a waterfall, or trying to see through a beaded curtain—seeing outlines, but not being able to grasp details. She smiled, and nodded, and said, “yes.” What she meant was, of course I couldn’t, and no one would be able to explain every detail to me―not if I didn’t live it, but more importantly, not if I didn’t ask questions. When Captain Georgiou brought Michael Burnham to the bridge for the first time, she said, “This can be your new home, if you want it to be.” She asked for little but trust and mutual respect from a certain Vulcan-raised human who needed to re-integrate into an all-too-familiar but still foreign culture. The dojo is foreign, and it is my home, and I must always ask questions.
A human who had seen a life of loss, but still chose hope. A mentor who saw everything as a lesson, full of expectations both written and unwritten. And I, or Michael Burnham, watching her set a star.
Sensei: 谢谢, I love you, and I hope to see you in person soon.
Al
65 notes · View notes
andromedasstarship · 4 years
Text
faceless, nameless - chapter 1
Tumblr media
photo credit - unknown 
pairing - kylo ren x reader 
warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, depictions of pain/near death experiences, sadness, depressed reader, angst, betrayal, hospital rooms, injured reader 
summary - Poe opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but nothing came out. After a few instances of this, you decided to address the elephant in the room. “You think Ren will come looking for me, don’t you?” 
blog rules 
a/n - the next chapter is completed as well and will be uploaded tomorrow after editing! thanks for reading :) send an ask/reply to be put on the taglist. 
masterlist // read it on ao3 here 
prologue // next chapter 
-----
the moon 
Unlike Kylo, you had never felt the need to wear a mask during your days with the First Order. Kylo had requested, near begged you to- worried you’d become too identifiable and therefore an easier target-, but your job wasn’t to intimidate. Your job was to be a diplomat and a strategist and the nicer face of Order. It was quite difficult to create the intimate bonds your job required if you weren’t able to show your face. Across the galaxy, they had many names for you- the devil’s whore, Lady Ren, concubine-, but no matter what someone called you, you arguably ended up having one of the most identifiable faces in the entire galaxy.
At the moment you weren’t sure if that was working better or worse for you. Sprawled out in the sand, in a pool of your own blood, a pair of Resistance pilots were standing over you. Their outfits were gaudy, you thought, bright orange and quite the eyesore. They were arguing about something, you were pretty sure it was whether or not they should save you. You forced yourself to focus and strained to process what they were saying. 
“This is Kylo Ren’s girl, do you understand that? Kylo Ren’s girl. We touch her and we die.” The blonde haired one was saying. 
“Do you see Ren around anywhere? Or anyone from the First Order?” That came out of the one with dark curly hair. He was undeniably attractive, you thought. “If we save her, maybe we’ll have a bargaining chip” 
“That or he’s gonna think we kidnapped her and shot her and then he’s going to blow us all up!” Good point, blondie, a little off given the circumstance, but he didn’t know that. 
They didn’t even try talking to you, good guy optimism or not, the faraway look in your eyes and your labored breathing told them it wasn’t worth it. 
Eventually, you felt them pick you up and start carrying you somewhere, presumably their ship. The dark haired one had won the conversation with his whole ‘we’re the good guys’ mantra. Not that you were complaining, you didn’t necessarily want to die. When they dropped you on a table and started working at getting your wound cleaned you decided it was safe to let your mind go to sleep. You’d thank them in the morning if you woke up. 
----
You did, wake up, but it was days later and you were in a rather nondescript, too bright, makeshift hospital room. Never one for dramatics, you didn’t try pulling out your IV or ripping bandages off or jumping out of your hospital bed. You just laid there and made a list in your mind of what happened; it was the first time since being shot that you had a true moment to think. 
Kylo had come to you in the morning and told you he was taking you on a surprise trip to a nearby planet that had a beach. 
You and Kylo laid on the beach for hours, he was rather distant, but that wasn’t cause for concern. 
He kissed you like he was never going to kiss you again. 
You felt a blaster shot rip through you and immediately assumed you were under attack. 
Kylo was holding the blaster.
Kylo laid you down on the sand and left without looking back.
You laid there for..., you weren’t sure how long. 
Resistance pilots saved you. 
And now you were at...? 
You took a better look at your surroundings. Too white walls, little in terms of supplie- especially in comparison to the splendor you were accustomed to-, scratchy sheets, no windows and one single metal door. You were undoubtedly in shock, still unable to process the extent of your injury, how close you’d been to death and especially the part about Kylo. There was also the IV taped snugly to your arm, you could only imagine they were pumping you full of various drugs and pain meds; they probably did it to keep you sluggish for when you woke up and not to help keep your emotions at bay, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 
The drugs made it difficult to keep track of time, but you assumed it had been just under an hour when Pretty Pilot walked into the room. He must’ve not expected you to be awake, judging by how wide his eyes got when they met yours. 
You decided to be the one to break the silence. “Hello.” 
At that the pretty pilot fully entered the room, letting the door shut with a bang behind him. “Hello.” 
“Am I allowed to ask for your name?” You asked. 
“Poe. Poe Dameron.” 
“I’m assuming you know my name already then?” You asked, shuffling in your bed to get a better look at him. 
“Everyone knows your name.” Poe replied, walking further into the room. He pulled out a chair that had been next to your bed and sat down, looking up at you. “How are you feeling? You were out for nearly a standard week.” 
You couldn’t help the laugh that came out of you; or the painful moan that followed after the movement sent a sharp pain up your spine. “I feel like I got shot.” 
Pretty Pilot Poe grinned at that too. “Guess I should’ve seen that coming huh?” His face got a tad bit more serious and he continued, “do you know where you are?” 
“With the Resistance I assume?” 
He answered with a nod and leaned back in his chair. It was clear he was unsure how to proceed with the conversation, your years as a diplomat had taught you well in interpreting body language. This must’ve been uncharted territory for both of you. The First Order rarely took prisoners alive and the ones they did were never alive for long, nor did you have much involvement in their time with the Order. To your knowledge, the Resistance had never captured anyone of importance, not even a lowly officer or trooper. You briefly wondered what it was like when Poe and the blonde one carted you into the Resistance- ship, base, you weren’t really sure-, and plopped your dying body into the med bay. 
Poe opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but nothing came out. After a few instances of this, you decided to address the elephant in the room. “You think Ren will come looking for me, don’t you?” 
Poe’s face morphed into a form of shock, but you could tell he was glad you had breached the subject of Ren. “We know he will.” 
“No. No he won’t,” you started, rolling your head to the other side so you were looking away from him, “Ren’s the one who shot me and left me-” 
Poe gasped loudly, effectively cutting you off. You rolled your head back to face him and couldn’t help the little smile that formed when you saw his more than bewildered face. At least one of you was processing the betrayal. 
“If your people are smart, you won’t attempt to contact him or the Order and tell them that I’m alive.” You said quietly, giving him the most serious look you could muster. 
Poe’s mouth was still opening and closing, a bit like a fish, but he managed to shake a nod your way. After a few moments of silence that were getting close to uncomfortable, he shot out of his seat. “I need to, um, tell my team. I’ll be back later.” He was out the door before you could formulate a response. 
So, it’d been a standard week since Kylo- you weren’t quite ready to swallow that truth yet. It’d been a standard week since you’d last been on Starkiller. You wondered if any of your friends missed you. Not that you had a ton on base, but over the years you’d grown quite close with Phasma and as much as Kylo hated it, you and Hux got along very well and worked wonderfully as a team. 
The longer you were awake the more aware you became of the pain. And, kriff, was it bad. Your muscles were sore, the sand had rubbed the back of your arms and legs raw, and every time you breathed you felt a sharp pain originate from the general area of your blaster wound. 
When the door opened again- your guess was two hours later-, you watched an elderly woman walk in, Pretty Pilot right behind her. When your eyes met with the woman’s, you knew exactly who she was; she had the same eyes as Him. You’d also definitely seen her from Resistance intel the First Order had intercepted, but Kylo hated a tangible reminder of his past so those photos were never up long. 
General Organa took the seat Poe had been in before, Poe himself leaning up against the wall behind her. 
“So, Poe tells me Ben did this to you.” General Organa said, breaking the silence. 
“He hates that name,” you said, feeling the slightest amount of guilt at how the woman’s face turned down at that, “but yes, he did. I don’t have the answers you want.” 
General Organa reached a hand out, gently covering yours, and gave you the type of look only a mom could give. For the next hour or so, her and Poe bounced random questions off of you while graciously answering all the ones you had. At some point, food had even arrived for the three of you; a wholly ‘good guy’ gesture, even though you couldn’t stomach more than a few bites. 
Before the General and Pretty Pilot left, she gave you a very simple ultimatum. The Resistance would allow you to stay as long as it took for you to heal and they would aid the process. When you were healthy again, you could either join them or be blindfolded and dumped on a completely random, hopefully inhabitable, planet in the Outer Rim. The only reason the majority of the council had agreed to take you in, was due to your intimate relationship with First Order happenings and plans; hell, you’d created most of them yourself and the ones that weren’t personally designed by you, still had to be approved by you. She didn’t expect an answer right then, which you were grateful for, but you all knew the deadline wouldn’t be too far out. 
----
For the entirety of your stay, three standard weeks to be exact, Pretty Pilot would come into your room at least once, for hours at a time, and talk to you about anything. The first few days were pretty awkward, you had most certainly personally killed some of his comrades at least once, but you were both quite the conversationalists and his ‘good guy’ charm came equipped with second chances. You learned you were both fiercely competitive when it came to card games. A bit too competitive, seeing as one game got you so worked up you pulled a stitch or two, elongating your healing process. 
Poe even tried to help you process your grief. He talked you into speaking to the designated Resistance therapist, who you were certain was just the person who gave the best advice and not an actual licensed professional; it didn’t matter much to you. She was a kind older woman, who sat across from you for 30 minutes a day, talking about this and that and ‘how are you really feeling today miss’ and ‘it’s okay to feel your emotions’ and other therapeutic nonsense. You had a feeling that these people thought you were incapable of feelings, not a horribly misplaced assumption, given your prior occupation, but it’s not like you were heartless. You weren’t- heartless-, you were just avoiding the reality of your situation for as long as possible. Some days, you felt like you weren’t even in your own body, just a soul looking in. 
When the dam finally broke on day 13 of your hospital stay. The betrayal of having Kylo, the man you loved, turn his gun on you and leave you for dead quite literally brought you to your knees. It had gotten so bad- a mix of screaming and full blown sobs, you’d even thrown up at one point-, that one of the nurses had to medically knock you out. Even when you were able to refrain from crying each time you opened your mouth, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that had made home in your bones. 
In all honesty, you probably weren’t the most reliable narrator in terms of your recovery period. Half the time you were either drugged out of your mind or stuck in a deep depression. Kylo’s betrayal had made you desperate for someone or something to accept you; a newfound fear of abandonment and worthlessness.  
In the end, you made the deal with General Organa. You made it explicitly clear you would never outright hand them First Order battle plans or ship layouts- couldn’t handle the way it would make you feel like a traitor, couldn’t handle the idea you could be the reason one of your friends was killed-, but if they were on the right track about something you’d assist them. Saying yes left more questions to be answered and various topics to be addressed; you had made a brief list of them when making your decision. 
Would you be able to stomach becoming a Resistance soldier who would be asked to kill First Order soldiers?
You couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized, so you’d have to change your appearance. 
How would they inform the rest of the Resistance of your presence, at the moment only a handful of high level officials were aware. 
The ones who know, understandably, didn’t trust you at all. 
Joining the Resistance, in the way that you were, would be the furthest thing from easy. Good thing you were never one to shy away from a challenge.
-----
a/n - wow!!!!! i cant explain how excited i am for this story. thank you so much for your kind words and support so far. my heart is more than full. comments/replies/reblogs/likes always appreciated :) 
taglist - @egguuuu​ @sunflowersandotherthings​ @clarizuliani10​ @kylorendrip​
no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it. 
66 notes · View notes
pinkykitten · 4 years
Text
everything stays
Tumblr media
chapter 1 - blood on her hands :: gisela klein [ an aot oc story ] 
note: hey guys i know its been a rlly long time since ive posted anything and u may be rlly let down and underwhelmed that ive chosen to write a aot oc instead of fanfic but its what i want to write and i rlly love my oc and wanna give her some love and some praise and let u a little in how i see her. im sorry i havent posted a lot im going to try to write more and who knows i may or may not finish this but its ok imma try lol but life sometimes is a butthole. i hope you love her as much as i do an tysm for taking time out of ur day to read this story. enjoy!
Even though she knew that this day would have to come and that it was near, it still was a surprise for her. She was taken aback. It didn’t make sense and add up to her; she was trained for this since she was little; preparing mentally and physically for phase one of the plan; and the day appeared through the trees; past the wall; the opportunity was present; the fate of the people were waiting in their hands; and yet she felt a sense of evilness within her heart. Was this right? But there was no time. 
The day was written down in history. The stories were spread around like a disease. Heights, jaws, teeth, feet, stench, the screams. If they survived that nightmare they were seen as a tough soldier; as someone that was applauded because they probably had PTSD and had to see everyday as a reason within themselves or God that they were alive. That maybe just maybe they were saved for a reason; for a purpose. That is what Gisela Klein thought. Maybe there was something greater out there for her to do, to accomplish and that was why she saw another day; breathed another breath. 
But one thing was for sure. Forgiveness would never come her way; she would never expect it. To be a warrior she had to endure the horror; the pain; feelings of worthlessness; and friendships lost. 
This is the story of the 10th finding titan; the Slash Titan.
Tumblr media
The pounding of her heart rang through her ears. It had taken everything for her to keep going on this journey; to continue on the path to and through Hell. She felt a loss within her and the light in her eyes died out. The loss of her friend made it hard for her to function. To keep her head in the game and in the plan. 
She sighed as she stared at her hands. Broken and bruised like her heart; scars and scratches scattered on her skin. Her bite mark deeply engraved into her flesh. She heaved a huge sigh. Ready to give death a handshake and make a deal with the devil. Panic was rising in her chest from her stomach, almost ready to throw up. 
As she thought about her family back home she realized there was no other way; she had to do this. In order to be with her family, to save them she had to do the one thing she was trained to do. 
Kill.
A lightning strike shot over the wall. The wall that kept the monsters away and at bay. Something was wrong; the air seemed to change. The lightning strike caused a boom, clap and the ground started to shake. 
Bertholdt drew his leg back and with full force swung his leg forward, knocking a hole into the wall that was impenetrable. Many people flew back from the wind of the blow and some were crushed by the debris of the wall. 
Many were going to die; but it’s what needed to be done. 
The titans were called. 
Finally the titans entered the devils homes and started to rip up their lives. “This is right, this is right.” Gisela had to keep reminding herself. “For my family.” And something snapped within her. The image of her mother, tortured, flashed in her mind. And suddenly everything was worth it. “No regrets.”
Gisela eyed Reiner, an agreement, a sign. She exhaled and in a quick motion placed her hand to her mouth and bit into it. In a spark she transformed into her titan form. Her eyes were much like a cats, sharp. She was made into the slash titan, she was chosen for this program. Her titans fingers were like sharp knives, able to cut any object or person. They hung a little past her knees. 
Reiner then transformed and both stomped past the hole. Many citizens glanced up, horrified. Gisela and Reiner were titans never seen before. 
She nodded to Reiner, bent down and started to pick up debris and pieces of houses to throw over the bigger wall. The chunks started to smash against people. Blood splattering everywhere. Gisela almost wanted to close her eyes from the immense amount of dead bodies piled on top of others, graves upon graves. 
She was hauling boulders as high and fast as she could. Her titan held a high amount of power and strength. Being slim, muscular and as tall as the armored titan and female titan. Reiner took a step back and gained his speed to go onward to destroy the bigger wall. 
“Fire!” Their soldiers cried out. Fear evident on their face. They shot their cannons, not even slowing down Reiner. Gisela continued flinging, wanting to create a path for Reiner. She was faster than before and many of her hits flattened the men in the front lines. Their screams and cries loud. 
“Close the gate!” They tried, it was their last hope to save humanity. But it was not enough. Reiner broke the wall and killed those running and they went flying. They reached even higher than Gisela. It astounded her almost, they seemed like helpless birds flying high in the sky; but that thought was quickly wiped clean because the second they flew up in the air they came straight down with much force that many parts of their bodies broke. 
Reiner did what he needed to do, he opened up a way for the titans to get in and they were swarming by the bunches. 
In the distance, the survivors fled in boats across the river to get into the other walls. Gisela put herself in their shoes for a second. They had reason to be scared. Everything they have ever known was gone; their houses, loved ones, food, a place to feel the most comfortable you can feel despite situations; it was all gone. Gisela shook the thought out, not caring about these cruel humans feelings. They had none. No emotions. Gisela had to believe that thought; what she was told, she had to believe it with all her heart, or else what was real?
They waited till they were able to not be seen and Gisela turned human first and then so did Reiner. The four of them hopped on the boat. Talking amongst themselves. The wind howled through the vacant homes. Destruction everywhere. Gisela looked around her setting and saw a little girl had been crushed because a tree fell on her, her doll mere inches away from her grasp. She died with her eyes open; almost looking into Gisela’s soul through the eyes. Gisela’s body trembled and she threw up. 
“Don’t.”
Gisela looked up to see Reiner wiping blood and debris off his clothes. He picked his sleeve and turned Gisela’s head to look away, he wiped her chin and mouth off the puke. He saw the trauma in her eyes and felt guilty. But it’s what needed to be done. He kept telling himself that the more he did this the more he would understand and get used to it. It was still all new to her and he had to be strong for her. He knelt in front of her small frame. “It’s not your fault. They needed to die. We are in this together. You don’t need them. Look at me.”
Gisela looked into his eyes, away from the sadness. His eyes carried the feeling of wanting to be wanted. That was always what Reiner wanted. But they also had fear in his eyes. 
“Stop acting like you’re in control when I know how sick you feel. I know how afraid you are Reiner.”
He paused and took a look at his hands and others surrounding him. “You’re right. But I made a promise to Marcel.”
Tumblr media
They joined the other citizens arriving at the food reserves. The master of disguise was needed in this mission. People needed to see four hungry, depressed children that survived the fall of their homes, not mass murderers. 
Annie was only able to fetch two loaves. “Alright, who's the most hungry?”
“You girls should eat, you’re more feeble.” Bertholdt sat on a crate, pointing to Gisela and Annie. 
Annie tsked, moving a bang from her eyes, “who says girls are more feeble? I recall kicking your ass all those times in training.”
“You guys can eat it, I’m not hungry.” Gisela sat on the other crate and saw the chaos of the crowds. A boy caught her interest. He had dark brown hair, tan skin, and light blue green eyes. He was having bread shoved in his mouth and he seemed to have such a strong personality to him. If only Gisela felt so strongly about her motive and her placement in this life. 
“You really should eat, you need your energy after all you did.” Annie broke all the loaves in half and shared it amongst the four of you. “It’s not much but at least it's something.”
Gisela sighed, “you’re right. Thanks.”
Tumblr media
After that day there was land given to only a few refugees but there were too many of them. Luckily the four of them had a piece of land that was enough until further inching themselves within society. Through that whole span each day was getting easier and easier living with the lies and day by day Gisela felt more at sure with herself and knowing that she could fulfill this mission. Pills and alcohol helped the pain and ease the thoughts. She taught herself to put a gap between what she came here to do and feelings. She told herself every day that nobody else mattered except her family and Reiner. She trained her brain to not care, to not have strings attached or any love for anything. It was all a play, all a rehearsal for when the curtain would fall. She was readying herself for that fall. Everyday she educated herself more on these scums. What they liked, wanted, needed, craved for, and what they craved more than ever in their life was freedom. 
She trained her body as if it were her last day, barely getting sleep. The face of her mother haunting her every night making her get up at three in the morning to do pushups or sit ups. Not only was her mind getting stronger but also her body. Even Reiner would make jokes noticing the muscles that would appear. The six pack that formed on her stomach. Her thighs growing tight and firm, her arms growing stronger. The sweat growing on her forehead longer. 
With her body growing her relationship with Reiner also changed. They no longer were the tiny children that didn’t understand anatomy or the air between two people. Reiner and Gisela’s relationship was of being flirty, sharing a few kisses here and there, trying to be a couple but then yelling at each other and breaking it up and realizing maybe this isn’t right a million times. Even Bertholdt and Annie were getting tired of their outbursts. But each time they made up to be friends only and then the cycle started where the feelings came in the way and they wanted to be more. They would tease each other, especially Reiner. They were each other's best friends. Gisela was like one of the boys, loud, obnoxious, burping all the time, Reiner would get a look at her and smirk thinking he taught her well. When Reiner looked at her he felt at home and that everything was going to be okay. Her nightmares continued and each time Reiner would come to her room and hold her, let her cry into his arms. She felt he was the only person that knew her pain. 
Gisela understood many things in life and for once she understood her life here, she understood why she was born and chosen. 
Tumblr media
It was the following year and in order to get closer to finding the founding titan the four became part of the 104th cadet corps. 
“Are you ready to train more?” Gisela nudged Reiner, eyebrow raised.
“What do you mean train more? This is going to be a new but scary experience honestly.” Reiner spoke as if he was a different person. As if he didn’t have a life outside of the walls. 
“Reiner?” Gisela placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. He looked fine on the outside but Gisela knew the issues were inside, his mind. She knew this was becoming disastrous to him, he was starting to have almost two personalities, two lives, two worlds, two people. Gisela tried to tell Annie or Bertholdt, they saw it too but there was nothing they could do. 
All that Gisela could do was smile as they made their way to the first day of training. 
Tumblr media
note: again ty y’all sm!!!! If u liked it lmk and this is kinda new for me cuz I usually don’t post my ocs stories here or much at all but I’m rlly excited for y’all to see her and for y’all to know this oc of mine and hopefully accept her ❤️
Taglist: @witchofinterest @chlobenet @eddysocs @fpxloomis @whctsherncme-archive @ocfairygodmother @fandomchick80 @ocappreciationtag
27 notes · View notes
potionsprefect · 4 years
Text
The Familiar Face
Pairings: Ethan Ramsey x Victoria Clarke
Word Count: 1.8k
Summary: The past has a nasty way of coming back to haunt you and Victoria must learn to deal with it
Category: angst, fluff
Tumblr media
Chapter One: Nomination
It was a relatively quiet day at Bloom Edenbrook. There wasn’t any traumas coming in, the diagnostics team were not very busy. The day was spent catching up on paperwork from the previous day.
Victoria Ramsey walked down the corridor to the ER with a file in her hands. She had just successfully diagnosed a young girl with a rare form of Leukaemia and was about to put the files away. As she walked down the corridor, she could see the many doctors and nurses of Bloom Edenbrook working away with patients, refilling IV stands, bandaging wounds and drawing blood.
Victoria passed the office of the leader of the diagnostics team. He was probably busy with paperwork like Victoria was. She thought about going in and taking his mind off of all of it. She would once these papers were filed away. Then they could steal a few moments together before they got back to work.
Being with Ethan had made Victoria feel a kind of happiness she had never felt before. One that made her never want to leave his side. They had been married for just over 4 years. Life couldn’t be more perfect.
Victoria was surprised that Ethan was open to the idea of children. It was him that brought it up, saying that if he could get used to the idea of marriage, he could definitely be a father. And that’s exactly what happened. They had a twin boy and girl, Luke and Lily Ramsey.
As Victoria got closer to the ER, she noticed there was a large group of interns gathered in the doctors lounge. As she looked into the room, she saw them all transfixed on the TV screen.
“Do you reckon he’ll win the nomination?”
“He has to! He’s so popular amongst the older voters and they make up a large amount of the population!”
“You won’t catch me voting for him. He’s a creep.”
“Shh! They’re about to announce the votes.”
Victoria walked closer to the TV screen to see what was happening. It was the nomination for who to nominate to represent the Republican Party at the Presidential Election. Victoria had avoided reading anything about the election or watching the coverage on TV. She wanted no business in dealing with politicians or deciding their future.
“It gives me great pleasure to announce that former Mayor and Senator of Massachusetts Ed Farrugia has been selected as the Republican Party’s nomination for the upcoming US Election!”
The name Ed Farrugia was a name she wanted to leave in the past. Flashbacks to that night played across her mind and her hand started trembling. She knew she should get out of there as soon as possible. But for some reason, Victoria was rooted to the spot, watching Ed be congratulated by fellow nominees and hearing his name be chanted by the crowd.
“It’s a great honour to receive the nomination in my home state. And I make this promise now. We are going to do great things, we will get this country back on track and make it the same America everyone admired us by. I will do all I can to make America a safe and welcoming place for all. Thank you!”
The place erupted and some of the doctors watching nodded and murmured in support. Victoria realised she had heard enough and stumbled out the room, nearly walking into the doorway. She had to get out of there and fast.
As quick as she could, Victoria went to the one person who could calm her nerves down easily.
“Please be in your office.” Victoria said as she made her way down the hallway and into his office. She breathed a sigh of relief when he was sat at his desk.
“Hey.” Ethan said barely looking up from his desk. When Victoria didn’t respond he looked up. He noticed the distress on her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Ethan said jumping up from his seat, guiding Victoria to the sofa and sitting down next to her, pulling her into his arms.
“I...” Victoria couldn’t get the words out, instead she just sobbed into his arms. Ethan looked at his wife with concern, he hadn’t seen her this distressed since that night. Something big must’ve happened. “He’s running for President. He’s actually doing it.”
Ethan knew exactly who she was talking about. She might’ve managed to avoid reading the news but he didn’t. He regularly looked for updates on Senator Ed, wondering what he was up to.
“It’s okay.” Ethan comforted her stroking her back. Once the tears had subsided, Ethan got up and made Victoria a cup of coffee setting it on the table.
“Why is he doing this? How can he do this?” Victoria sighed.
“Because he’s a very powerful man who wants a very powerful position.” Ethan replied.
“But hasn’t his reputation declined in the years? How did he get enough support?” Victoria asked.
“Unfortunately people who support politicians from the beginning can’t have their minds changed. And there were enough of them for Ed Farrugia.” Ethan sighed.
“You don’t think he’d come here do you? Start gaining support outside the hospital? I know he said he was backing down on his rehab bill again but he could easily change his mind and what about-“
Ethan cut off Victoria by pressing his lips softly to hers, cradling her face in his hands. She melted into the kiss before pulling away and rested her forehead against his.
“If he ever does come here I’ll make sure he doesn’t set foot inside the hospital. I will make that very clear at the next meeting I promise.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” Victoria laughed hugging Ethan.
“You didn’t have to do anything. I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” Ethan said.
“Don’t be silly Ethan.” Victoria giggled. “Will you do me a favour?”
“Anything.”
“Will you call your Dad and get him to bring the twins back tonight? I need to cuddle my babies.”
“Of course, I miss them too.”
— — — — —
A simple phone call and Alan was more than happy to bring Luke and Lily Ramsey back early. The twins however were sad that they were ending their sleepover at Grandad Alan’s house early but were excited to see mummy and daddy again.
Ethan kept an eye on Victoria throughout the reminder of her shift, he tried to persuade her to go home but she insisted she was ok. Ethan knew how stubborn his wife was so didn’t press the matter further. He did however turn off the TV in the doctors lounge, something the interns complained about but one silenced look from Ethan made them keep their mouths shut.
Ethan had also spoken to Naveen and Leland and told them that Victoria and him would be taking a week off in order to spend some time as a family, Naveen had no problem with it at all, Leland had tried to argue against Ethan but Ethan’s mind wasn’t about to be changed. He was going to take care of his wife, spend some time with his family and that was the end of it.
When they got home, they ate dinner and then retreated to the sofa. Victoria turned on the TV and was immediately met with coverage on Ed Farrugia.
“You don’t have to watch it Vic.” Ethan said.
“It’s ok. I know I’ve avoided it all so far but I’m not now. I’m not afraid of him. I never have been.” Victoria smiled.
The doorbell then rang and Ethan went to answer it. He was met with the smiling face of Alan and the excited faces of Luke and Lily.
“Daddy!” Luke and Lily immediately ran into Ethan’s arms, the latter bending down to greet the two tiny humans.
“I missed you both. Why don’t you go find mummy? She’s in the living room.” Ethan smiled at the twins watching them run off down the hall to find Victoria.
“You were exactly like that at their age.” Alan laughed.
“Yeah and now look at me.” Ethan replied although he couldn’t fight back a small smile. “Thank you for bringing them back early. It’s just been a tough day and Victoria really wanted to see them.”
“It’s not a problem. I did see the news earlier and I understand.” Alan smiled.
“I know. I can’t believe he would do this. He’s nothing but a...” Ethan checked behind him to make sure the twins were out of earshot. “A bastard.”
“I agree. I won’t be voting for him.” Alan replied.
Ethan said goodbye to Alan and made his way into the living room where he saw Luke and Lily cuddled up with Victoria. He sat down on the sofa and Lily curled up against his side, on the verge of falling asleep. Not wanting her to fall asleep where she was, Ethan picked her up and carried her to her bedroom.
“No Daddy. I’m not asleep.” Lily murmured laying her head on his shoulder.
“You’ll be more comfortable in your bed.” Ethan said carrying her up the stairs and helping her into her pyjamas. Victoria brought Luke up and both parents tucked their children in giving them a few kisses before they retreated from the door and went back downstairs.
“Do you reckon I can make them stay small forever?” Victoria said slumping back onto the sofa.
“I reckon you couldn’t stop them if you tried.” Ethan chuckled putting an arm around Victoria. “Although if you’re getting broody again...”
“No way. Two is enough for me.” Victoria laughed.
“I’m glad we agree on that.” Ethan grinned.
“Do you think Ed would win the election?” Victoria asked after a period of silence.
Ethan wasn’t sure how to answer that. Republicans were very powerful people and sometimes, powerful people did big things. Ed Farrugia was still popular amongst the public, apart from those at Bloom Edenbrook.
Ethan would never forget that night. Nearly having Victoria slip away from him was one of the worst moments of his life. Today he did all he could to protect her and if that meant refusing to let Ed Farrugia visit Bloom Edenbrook Hospital then so be it.
“I don’t know. He’s still a very popular man no matter what we think of him. Many people don’t know what went on.” Ethan sighed.
“That’s true. I wonder what the others will make of it. I hope Bobby and Danny’s family haven’t seen the news.” Victoria sighed.
“It’ll all be ok. Whatever happens. We’ll get through it.” Ethan replied. “Now am I going to have to carry you to bed or are you able to walk to the bedroom?”
“Are you trying to get me into bed Ethan Ramsey?” Victoria smirked.
“Is it working?”
“You’ll have to find out.” Victoria winked, walking to the bedroom.
Ethan followed her quickly not wanting to disappoint her.
— — — — —
New series is here! Had this in the drafts for a while.
Apologies if the way I’ve written how the nominees for President are chosen or the timeline for when they are chosen are incorrect. I am not American!
Also I’m not 100% sure what party Ed Farrugia represents and I don’t think it’s ever specified in the book, and I researched that Massachusetts hasn’t had a Republican Senator since the 80s but as this is a fictional world and given Ed’s attitude throughout book 2, I’ve placed him as a Republican, just to make the fic more interesting.
So, Ed Farrugia is running for President! Who would’ve thought! 😉
The big question is will he win the election?
Tag list: @ohchoices @openheartfan @queencarb @genevievemd @iemcpbchoices
46 notes · View notes
come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
//the second spring.  miya atsumu//
Warnings: there’s two little sex jokes
Word Count: 1.4K
Notes: atsumu is so cute b y e 
PART I. II. III. IV.
The poor boy was completely and utterly miserable.  He had been couch ridden for days, shuffling around his tiny apartment in sweatpants, a redness reminiscent of Rudolph from the amount of times he had blown his nose in a tissue.  His voice was nasally and his words were interrupted by chains of sneezes as he battled through the one thing that made early spring unbearable: flu season.
You had seen the setter taken down a peg or two during your time together over the past year.  You had watched the defeat sink into his eyes everytime he lost an argument with his brother or with Sakusa.  You knew that sulking posture that accompanied him whenever a serve didn’t go how he planned.  But, never had you seen him like this.  
His 4 a.m. text message simply asking you to come over was met with teasing remarks, telling him that if he wanted to get off so bad, he just had to say so.  Yet, when you arrived, rather than being greeted with hungry kisses, your boyfriend opened the door looking like the human incarnation of death itself.  A woeful expression that had his mouth tugging down into a deeply set frown and tissue bunched up in his hand that he used to wipe the snot running from his nose every few seconds pulled together his entire ensemble.  
Atsumu really did try to hug you upon your arrival, but a string of coughs washed over him, leaving him to just whine in misery as he laid his head against your shoulder, taking comfort in the way that your hands rubbed soothing circles against his back.  “I don’t feel good,” he mumbled, lacing his arms around your waist.
You laugh lightly, letting one of your hands reach up into his hair.  “I can tell, ‘mu.  Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Can’t sleep.”
You hum, gently pulling his away from you so you can lay your hand against his forehead, feeling the heat radiate from his skin.  “Come on, why don’t we go lay down?  You’re pretty hot.”
He scoffs, letting you pull him back down the hallway towards his bedroom.  “If you wanted to get off that bad, all you had to do was ask,” he teases, using your previous words against you.  Even overcome with a fever, he still had the energy to put on that gentle smirk that carried that tiny glint of mischief up into his eyes, but whatever suave sense of seduction he thought he was oozing was completely ruined as a second round of coughs took hold of him. 
Atsumu let you help him slowly shuffle the rest of the way to his bed, gingerly laying down on top of the sheets.   You pull one of his blankets up around his body, leaning over him to brush your thumb across his cheek, a gentle kiss being placed on his forehead.  “Do you need anything or do you just want to try and get some sleep?”
He just looked up at you tired brown eyes, reaching out towards your body to pull you into his arms.  “Will you just stay here?” He muttered, pushing a piece of hair from your face.
“Of course, ‘mu.  I can stay as long as you need me to, but you need to try to sleep.  You’re going to feel better if you rest.”
“What if you never left,” he continued, his arms tightening their hold around you, scared that his questions might scare you away, because, in truth, a 4 a.m. text message that begged you to come over and help him feel less miserable was not the start to this conversation that he had ever anticipated. But, you’re light teasing that had only been followed with a, “i’ll see you in 10 mu” had made his chest swell and all of the tension seemed to leave his body at the affirmation that you were coming, that you were going to be there for him all because he asked you to be.  He wasn’t sure why it had taken him by such surprise or why it had made him so happy to know that you were going to be right by his side in only a matter of short minutes, but there was no denying the tiny smile that pulled at his mouth.  
You had been there through everything with him over the last year, from the first spring to the second, you had been right by his side, his number one fan in the stands, his biggest supporter on and off the court.  The one person who could bring a smile to his face over the silliest things and the one who could have him clutching his sides in laughter during late night conversations where the only light illuminating you was the television playing reruns of some sitcom that you both had seen too many times.  Miya Atsumu was completely and hopelessly in love with you.  He might’ve been sick and he might not have been thinking perfectly clearly, but there was one thing that he knew and one thing that he was never going to forget.  “I love you and I don’t want you to leave ever again,” Atsumu stated simply, staring into your face, barely visible in the darkness of the night.  
“Baby, I already told you that I would stay as long as you needed me to, okay?  I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He took a deep breath, pausing only to release a few heavy coughs into his arm.  “What if you lived here?  With me?”
You smiled down at him, pushing his hair away from his forehead that had started to bead with little droplets of sweat as his fever continued to set in.  “Atsumu, I think your fever is getting to you.  You’re not thinking straight right now.”
His brows furrowed together and a cute pout settled onto his lips.  “You don’t want to live with me?”
“No, that’s not it, ‘mu.  I do want to live with you but-”
“Then do it.  Come live with me.”  His voice was hoarse, worn and sore from all of his never-ending coughing fits.  “And when you get sick, you won’t have to text me to come over, because I’ll already be here.”
You hum a little, cupping his face in your hands.  “Atsumu, I just don’t want you to ask something that you’re going to regret, but if you really want me to move in then I-”
“I really want you to move in.  Please, Y/N.  I’ve never been more sure of anything.  The fact that you’re here right now, in the middle of the night, is the only reassurance I could need.”
And it was true too.  Atsumu had been in relationships before, but none of them had this same level of careful and attentive energy being passed between two people.  It was you coming over in the middle of the night to check on him.  It was him leaving volleyball practice early because you called him panicking because there was a massive spider crawling around your kitchen.  It was you knowing that he always does his laundry on Thursdays and bringing him some post-laundry snacks.  It was him remembering your drink of choice at the coffee shop downtown.  Everything that you did for him and everything that  he did for you made it so painfully obvious that this was something that he wanted to pursue further.  He wanted to take one step further into the madness that came with being in love.  
Springs come with first kisses and they come with warm embraces as a young couple finally takes the plunge into a new chapter of their relationship.  It’s accompanied by coughing and runny noses, bodies aching and chills being too much to ignore.  There are soft kisses shared in the darkness of bedrooms, moonlight barely casting glows on a pair of flames that flickered beautifully on their own, but are now burning more intensely as they merge together, lips pressed into one other, not even bothering to worry about the germs and the now unavoidable flu.  All because of one simple answer that was whispered so beautifully and tantalizingly in his ear. 
“Yes.”
{Taglist: @nicka-nell​ @moncymonce​ @cherryonigiri​ (since you like my atsumu pieces ;-;}
98 notes · View notes
dothwrites · 4 years
Text
part vi of mafia!au 
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v
COMPLETE
---
Recovery is slow and excruciating. 
Castiel’s body has never rebelled against him to this extent. His muscles refuse to do their damn jobs and function. He’s relegated to his bed for days on end, while being forced to endure Sam Winchester’s lurking and Gabriel’s overly effusive attempts to cheer him. 
All of those would be fine, except that he hasn’t seen the house’s other occupant, Dean Winchester, except in short glimpses, as though Dean is the rarest of all animals, only seen from a distance. 
Which is fucking bullshit, because he can hear Dean’s voice, echoing through the tiny confines of the house, after Dean thinks he’s asleep. Clearly, it’s not the concept of social interaction which Dean finds daunting, but rather, the concept of social interaction with him. 
It’s infuriating. 
It wouldn’t be as bad if he thought Dean’s avoidance was due to hatred or indifference. But even though he’d been fairly hazy that first morning, he’d seen how Dean’s whole face brightened, he’d felt the hard clutch of Dean’s fingers in his. The look on Dean’s face...Castiel doesn’t want to put a name to it, doesn’t dare try to define it, but he knows for sure that it wasn’t hatred or apathy. 
Which means Dean is staying away from him for some other reason and that...
That’s bullshit. 
So Castiel does what he’s been doing his entire life and pushes everything aside in favor of a single minded pursuit. This time, he pours all of himself into the mission to get his fucking body to do what it’s supposed to do. He starts with minuscule goals, such as getting out of bed and pacing around his room, but it’s still too much for some. 
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Gabriel asks, a little sourly, as he stands in the doorway of Castiel’s bedroom. 
“Are you sure you should be poking your nose into my business?” Castiel asks back. For all that Gabriel is the elder sibling, they’ve never been under any delusions as to who was actually suited for this business. Gabriel is too flighty, too interested in frivolous pursuits and the mundane workings of everyday life. It was always Castiel who could sink his teeth into a problem, who could take it apart, hold the bloody pieces in his hands, and see how they could be sewn back together into a new animal. 
“Whatever,” Gabriel concedes, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “On your own head be it.” 
Castiel sneers after Gabriel as he turns to leave. He’s just in time for Dean to poke his head out of his room. It would be comical, if it weren’t so infuriating, to see how quickly Dean’s eyes bulge and his face reddens. Castiel is afforded one swift glimpse before Dean retreats into the safety of his room, slamming the door closed behind him. 
Castiel rolls his eyes and starts another circuit around the room. 
---
His body might be stubborn but Castiel continues on his conquest of it. Soon, he’s walking laps around the house, followed by short jogs around the property. The safehouse is far enough in the country that, as long as he’s careful, he can exercise outside without garnering too much attention. 
The Winchesters and Gabriel watch him with varying degrees of concern. 
“I already told you, I’m fine,” Castiel grunts, massaging at his sore calves after a midnight run. “Besides, we can’t afford to stay here forever.” 
Judging from the shifty look on Gabriel’s face, this is not the first time someone has mentioned this fact. He also notes that his brother proposes no solution, which means that no one has either managed or bothered to come up with one. Typical. 
Castiel’s impatience and ire increases when he considers the reason they haven’t yet moved on. They’re waiting for him to recover, which is an unconscionable burden on his mind. Every minute they spend in this house, waiting for him to get his shit together, is another minute he’s putting them all in danger. 
Gabriel lingers in the doorway, saying nothing, yet watching Castiel with an intensity usually only reserved for cupcakes and candy. After a few moments it starts to grate on Castiel’s nerves, yet he waits until he’s fully done with his post-run routine to speak. “Something else you needed?” 
“When are you going to talk about it?” Gabriel asks, much too kindly for Castiel’s liking. 
“Talk about what? What do to next? I’d love to do that, if it were possible to get you, Sam, and Dean in the same room for longer than five minutes.” 
“When are you going to talk about Naomi?” 
Castiel’s blood freezes. 
“I might be an idiot, but I know enough. I know who Dad’s attack dogs are, and I know how they work.” Gabriel swallows, unwontedly serious. “I saw the marks, Cassie.” 
Castiel’s hand makes an aborted jerk to the crook of his elbow where the scars are still livid against his skin. He catches the movement before it has a chance to amount to anything and forces his hand back down to his side. He can still feel the phantom ache of needles pushing into his skin, still remember how it felt when the road forked and reality went one way while his brain went another. 
He hasn’t told anyone, but sometimes, he’ll catch movement out of the corner of his eye, turn, and find nothing there. He tries to tell himself that this happens to everyone, that he’s fine, that he’s normal, but there’s always the insidious creeping fear down his spine--What if he’s losing it? What if Naomi fucked him up permanently? 
What if he’s never the same? 
If he doesn’t have his mind, if he doesn’t have his body, then he’s useless. He can’t protect anyone. He has nothing to offer. 
“I’m fine,” Castiel croaks, once he realizes Gabriel is still waiting for an answer. 
One eyebrow ticks upwards. “Yeah, once more until I actually believe you.”
“I already said that I’m fine. I don’t know what else you want.” 
Gabriel throws his arm wide. “For you to stop trying to run yourself into the ground? For you to stay in a room longer than ten minutes? For you to acknowledge that you maybe have an actual problem?”
Castiel sniffs, retreating into haughtiness to hide his hurt and anxiety. “Well, I’m sorry if I choose to concentrate on more important things, like trying to get well enough to protect us all.”
Gabriel gapes at him. “To protect...” He looks over his shoulder, like he expects to find the Winchesters supporting him. Upon finding no one there, he turns back to Castiel. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Dean and I are fairly good at what we do. Even the stringbean can hit the broad side of a barn. We’re fine.” 
The deliberate inflection of his voice suggests that Castiel is somehow not lumped into the general category of ‘fine’. 
“Fuck off,” Castiel growls, as a more appropriate comeback fails to materialize. He storms past his brother, hitting him in the shoulder as he makes his way to the bathroom. Gabriel doesn’t try to stop him, but Castiel knows he’s still watching. 
Some of his righteous rage is lost when he looks down the length of the hallway and finds Dean standing at the opposite end. He spares a single, startled look at Castiel before he scampers back towards the living room. Castiel’s temper worsens at the sight of Dean’s retreating back. 
Dean is a confirmed killer, a man who’s known the feel of a gun in his hand since he could walk. He’s seen Dean in action and admired his skills and ruthlessness. Now he’s watching the same man running scared. Castiel can’t think of anything more pathetic or more frustrating. 
Now in a profoundly foul mood, Castiel slams the bathroom door shut. The sound echoes through the house. He twists the knob of the creaky shower, turning the heat all the way up so that steam billows throughout the room. He steps underneath the spray, ignoring the tendrils of pain licking across his body, his tender, scarred skin protesting the rough treatment. 
He pushes away the ever present nip of worry (what if Gabriel’s right, what if he’s weak, what if he’s broken beyond repair) and scrubs at his skin until tiny pinpricks of blood well up, and then he scrubs some more. 
---
Matters come to a head a few days later. 
No longer content with pushing his body through runs, Castiel’s taken to shadow boxing in the house’s basement. He dances around the dank, mildewy space in his bare feet, tossing punches and kicks at imaginary enemies. His muscles scream at the exercise and threaten to collapse and tear, but he pushes on anyway. 
His thoughts are spiraling ever downward, dovetailing with his exhaustion. Castiel’s so lost within their grip that the opening of the basement door escapes his attention. Even the weary creak of the step doesn’t catch his attention. He’s formed bad habits in his convalescence. In his world, such laziness gets people killed. 
When he catches sight of Dean standing at the foot of the stairs, he jumps in surprise. Embarrassment flushes his cheeks red, and he hides his shame with snippiness. “Did you need something?” 
Castiel paces around the basement, grabbing a bottle of water, just to give his hands something to do. He tries to unscrew the top but gives up after two tries. He doesn’t want Dean to see how badly his hands are trembling. 
“You know that we’ve got your back, right?” Dean finally says. Castiel stops pacing. He wasn’t expecting that. 
Despite his surprise, he recovers quickly. “Coming from a Winchester, that isn’t exactly inspiring,” he sneers. 
Dean doesn’t try to hide his flinch. Castiel feels an irrational stab of guilt at that. “I just thought you should hear it from someone who wasn’t your brother,” he says, already turning to go back up the stairs. “But you have all three of us. Him, Sam.” Dean pauses for a second. “Me.” He continues on quickly, like he wants Castiel to forget about the slight emphasis he put on himself. “Anyway, you don’t have to do this every day. Take a day off before you kill yourself.” 
Castiel’s upper lip lifts reflexively. So, Dean’s joined forces with Gabriel. Next, he supposes Sam Winchester will find him and urge him to talk about it, you’ll feel better if you get it all out in the open. 
“Stay,” he says, brain running ahead of his common sense. Dean pauses, his foot already on the step. “It’s no good shadow boxing. I need a partner.” 
Dean wants to argue. Castiel can tell by his hesitation, the twitch of his fingers, the way he closes his mouth on whatever he was going to say. Castiel waits, head cocked to the side. He doesn’t quite smile in victory when Dean makes his decision, but he must give off the impression of it, as Dean’s expression darkens. 
“You know this isn’t doing you any good,” Dean says, as he sheds his flannel overshirt. The fabric has barely hit the floor before Castiel is on him, swinging at his head in a wild, haymaker punch. Dean blocks him easily, but the suddenness of the attack surprises him, as he lurches backward. 
“What the hell?” he spits, a mixture of fury and worry spread across his face. 
Castiel dances back, shifting his weight between the balls of his feet. His fists are held up close to his jaw, elbows tucked in close to his sides to protect his ribs. Within seconds, Dean copies his movements, but with slight differences. Castiel keeps himself contained, taut, muscles coiled in a defensive posture. Dean is looser, his left hand lazily extended, though Castiel doesn’t fall for the trap. That left hand can just as easily block blows as it can land a stinging jab. 
When it comes to Dean Winchester, there are dozens of traps, and Castiel seems to have fallen into all of them. 
They spend several long minutes circling each other, exchanging tentative jabs in a dance of blocks and dodges. They learn what blows the other considers threatening and what the other will shake off. 
Castiel changes the tempo when he aims a low kick at Dean’s hip. Dean twists out of the way, but when he turns back to Castiel, something in his face has changed. His eyes have hardened, his fingers curled purposefully into his palm. Castiel understands. Dean was just passing the time earlier, indulging his whimsy. For whatever reason, now he’s made up his mind to act. 
“You need to take it easy,” Dean tells him. He moves easily into Castiel’s space, each motion screaming aggression. He bats away Castiel’s jab; Castiel blocks Dean’s punch. They fall apart, sharp eyes raking over the other in a search for weaknesses. 
“You need to mind your own business,” Castiel replies. He has to concentrate on speaking; already he’s a little short of breath, though he’d rather chew off his own fingernails rather than admit that to Dean. “What I do is none of your concern.” 
Dean falters at that. His defenses lower, which allows Castiel to dart in, landing several snap punches to Dean’s ribs before Dean regains himself and forces him back. Something dangerous flashes in the depths of Dean’s eyes, and a vicious satisfaction rises in Castiel’s chest. This is what he wanted, this is the Dean Winchester that he--
The thought hits him, unbidden and unwelcome, and Castiel freezes. His inattention gives Dean the opening he needs. Where Castiel fights with precision and accuracy, Dean favors overwhelming force. It’s a strategy which works well for him and he uses it to devastating effect, foregoing fancy footwork and devious punches for a simple, unavoidable attack. Dean puts his head down and charges, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist in an attempt to throw him to the ground. 
It’s a perfect storm: His muscles, still not where they were before, falter. His balance, another casualty of Naomi’s untender mercies, isn’t enough to save him from catching his heel against an irregularity on the cheap mat he’s laid out. Dean is a hurricane, a typhoon, and underneath his onslaught, Castiel tumbles backward. 
Castiel’s back hits the ground, hard enough to knock the breath out of him. His head slams into the ground, and his vision spins for several, vital seconds. By the time he regains his equilibrium, Dean is already atop him, knees clamping in hard against his ribs. One of Dean’s hands wraps around his throat, fingers flexing in warning. 
“Enough,” Dean says tightly. “Whatever you’re trying to prove, enough. We get it, all right? You’re a big badass who doesn’t need anyone. We get it.” 
If he weren’t staring so closely at Dean’s face, then Castiel would miss his quick flash of emotion. As it is, it’s there and gone before he has a chance to really examine it, but for the moment, it’s enough to know that it exists. 
Castiel slumps back onto the floor, allowing his exhausted muscles a moment’s respite. Dean, ever cautious, doesn’t relent. Smart man. Ruthless. Focused. He’s a killer, Dean Winchester, and whatever is broken in Castiel’s brain is drawn to that part of him, just as much as it’s drawn to the well-hidden, softer aspects of him, like his obvious affection for his brother and his insistence on protecting civilians. 
But for all of his admirable qualities, Dean Winchester is still just a man. Castiel tips his head back, baring the vulnerable stretch of his throat to Dean’s gaze. It’s a deliberately submissive gesture, one designed to draw the eyes. He feels the exact moment Dean loosens his grip, distracted, and it’s that moment that Castiel acts. 
He bucks his hips up in a single, sharp motion, while striking out at Dean’s elbow. With his support gone, Dean buckles. While there are countless activities which Castiel could imagine partaking in with Dean slumped overtop him, he’s not interested in any of them. Instead, he uses Dean’s momentum against him, rolling them until their positions are neatly reversed. 
Dean snarls and curses, but Castiel has him pinned, much more securely than Dean did him. His knees presses down on Dean’s right wrist, immobilizing his strongest arm. Castiel leans forward. With his superior position, he doesn’t need to hold back his panting, doesn’t need to feel ashamed for the several beads of sweat which slip down from his forehead to the tip of his nose, to fall upon Dean’s throat. 
“I don’t need your permission to do anything,” Castiel says, once he thinks he can speak without wheezing through a sentence. “I’m not weak, I’m not broken, I’m not whatever else you three think I am. I’m fine.” Before he can stop himself, the words come tumbling out, the ones which he’d meant to keep close to his chest. “So you can stop running from me, or whatever it is that you’ve been doing. I’m fine.” 
Emotion twists across Dean’s face again, and this time, Castiel is in a position to examine it. Surprisingly, when he’s forced to put a name to it, the definition he comes up with is guilt. He tilts his head to the side in confusion, only realizing after he sits back on Dean’s stomach that he’s left himself vulnerable to an attack. 
Dean doesn’t take the opening. He lays passively underneath Castiel and doesn’t try to squirm away, doesn’t push him away, doesn’t do anything. If Castiel had to guess, then he would say that Dean enjoys being there. Or at least, he would if he could get that awful, hangdog look off his face. 
“What is it?” he asks. There’s something there, writhing underneath the surface of Dean’s expression, something that probably shouldn’t see the surface but it has to. 
Dean turns his head away. It’s a childish move, one that irritates Castiel, as it’s an extension of what Dean’s been doing for days. He’s avoiding Castiel, running from him, which is infuriating. Dean Winchester is many things, but a coward, he is not. 
“Answer me.” He takes Dean’s jaw in his hand and forces Dean to meet his eyes. He stares at Dean, the same stare guaranteed to make hardened criminals think twice and civilians piss their pants. 
It makes Dean blink, but it’s enough. That blink starts an avalanche, and eventually, Dean’s whole face crumples. He blinks, hard and fast, green flickering in and out of existence. 
“It was my fault.” Dean’s voice comes out as a tortured whisper. Castiel holds Dean’s jaw prisoner between his fingers, now allowing Dean to turn away. At first, Dean jerks against the restricting hold, but once the first wall crumbles, all the rest fall quickly, and Dean stares him down. 
“What was your fault?” Castiel asks, when no more information is forthcoming. 
For a moment, he thinks Dean will pull away, but Dean surprises him. It’s obvious that he’s struggling with his admission, but it comes. Haltingly, in little fits, but it comes. 
“If it hadn’t been for me...Fuck, Cas, are you going to make me say it? If it weren’t for me, then you would be fine. You’d be with your family, head of the family, and you’d be...” Dean forces a swallow. His eyes perform a swift sweep of Castiel’s figure, down to his chest, where the scars still linger. 
“It fucking killed me to see you like that.” Dean’s hand rises and Castiel doesn’t move to stop him, not even when Dean’s fingers sneak underneath the hem of his shirt to stroke against his skin. His breath catches as Dean’s calloused fingertips catch against the scabbed edges of his wounds. Every instinct screams for him to move, to run, to flee, but he forces his muscles to inaction and allows Dean to explore him through touch. “God, Cas...You were...” 
Dean looks up at him. His expression is naked and raw. Castiel feels exposed just witnessing it. “You’re a fucking force of nature,” Dean whispers, pressing his palm flat against the quivering skin of his belly. “You’re a goddamn hurricane, and...” 
When he stares at Dean, Castiel sees an unfathomable, looming wave rising in his eyes, the same wave which he feels swelling in his own chest. He leans forward, and Dean’s hand slides from his stomach to his back. The skin there is marred as well, and he gasps softly as Dean’s thumb strokes over a particularly deep wound. 
“It was my choice,” Castiel whispers. He’s hovering low over Dean, their chests almost brushing. He’s close enough that if he wanted, he could count the freckles dotted across the bridge of Dean’s nose. Dean blinks. From his vantage point, Castiel can appreciate the thick curtain of golden lashes fanning across his cheek. 
“I made the call, not you. I knew what had to be done, and I did it. You think I could have been happy there, knowing you were dead? That I’d had a chance to stop it and did nothing? Every second was worth it because that was another second you were safe. I made the choice, and I’d make it again, in a heartbeat. Don’t take that from me.” 
“Goddammit, Cas,” Dean breathes. His hand is heavy against Castiel’s spine, but for once, Castiel doesn’t bristle at the restraint. “I’m not worth that.” 
Castiel’s mouth is not made for smiling. In fact, sometimes he thinks he’s forgotten the knack of it. But around Dean, his face moves easier. An actual smile, not the sarcastic, threatening expression he usually plasters on his face when he feels like intimidating someone, tugs at the corners of his lips. 
“Lucky for both of us, you don’t get to make the decisions,” Castiel whispers. 
He’s not sure which of them moves first. Either way, the end result is the same. His lips crash into Dean’s and Dean receives him with a low moan of delight, his mouth opening automatically. Castiel cards his fingers through Dean’s short hair, tugging at the strands as he maps out the interior of Dean’s mouth. 
The first time he kissed Dean, he’d been selfish. He’d been standing on the edge of his darkest moment, and he’d wanted something golden to take with him, something to hold through the horror. The second time he kissed Dean, he’d been half out of his mind, clinging to the barest hint of reality. He hadn’t even realized Dean was kissing him until it was over. 
This time...
The third time he kisses Dean, Castiel takes his time. 
---
The atmosphere in the house relaxes. 
Castiel stops pushing himself quite so much, and his muscles, glad for the reprieve, begin working as they should. Day by day, his strength increases, and Castiel takes full advantage of this. 
Dean enjoys being pinned and Castiel aims to please. 
The four of them hold contests--who is the quickest draw, who’s the best shot, who has the best accuracy with knives. Sam Winchester, it turns out, is a damn good shot, especially when Castiel considers his youth. 
The four of them work well together. Their personalities clash, sometimes terribly, but they also complement each other, pragmatism warring with emotion, brawn matching brains. Castiel laughs as he looks around the room, realizing that, for possibly the first time in his life, he’s comfortable. Amazing, that he can relax in a room with two Winchesters, but there it is. He trusts Sam and Dean, more than any member of his family, to watch his back. 
(No doubt Dean would throw in an off-color comment about being all too happy to watch Castiel’s back, but he chooses to ignore Dean’s rather childish sense of humor.)
The question naturally arises, as to their next move. 
“The smartest thing to do would be to split up.” It’s Castiel who says it, because it’s always Castiel who retreats to the fortress of cold logic. Three pairs of betrayed eyes stare him down. Castiel returns the stare. “It makes the most sense. There’s four of us; if we all split up, we’d stand a better chance of escaping. We could start over. Be whoever we wanted to be.” 
(Gabriel’s been fighting against the Novak name since he was old enough to know there was something to fight against. Sam Winchester has never wanted the mantle of the Winchester family; he’s dreamed of something else, something altruistic, far away from the dark cloud of John Winchester. Dean...All Dean knows is duty to his father, but Castiel already knows that he’d follow Sam wherever he went. And Castiel...well...He can always try to take back the Novak family. No doubt he’ll fail, but he’s a weapon, a hammer. He doesn’t know how to be anything else.)
“Fuck that,” Dean says, crude and succinct as always. “Your splitting up plan, not your be whoever we want to be plan.” 
Dean leans forward. His eyes lock onto Castiel’s. It’s as though they’re the only two people in the room. “Look at us. We wouldn’t have gotten you out if we hadn’t worked together. You wouldn’t have been able to get me out if we hadn’t worked together. You, me, Gabriel, Sam...we’re just better together.” 
Dean’s words touch something vulnerable in his chest, something Castiel has never bothered to acknowledge. What else was there for him, other than a life of violence? There was no room in the Novak family for love, no room for freedom. 
Dean makes him dream it’s possible. 
“They’ll look for us,” Castiel says, in a last ditch attempt at realism. “Not only the Novaks. The Winchesters too. They won’t like the idea that people are capable of defying them.” 
“So let them come.” It’s Sam’s voice, ringing clear from the table. He might have come to this house as a child, but he’s matured in the time since he’s been here. Castiel trusts him just as much as anyone else sitting at the table. “Dean’s right. If there’s four of us, then we stand a better shot. We’ll watch each other’s back.” 
“Careful there, Samsquatch,” Gabriel hums, his eyes dancing over the rim of his glass. “Your back is a little big to watch.” 
Sam shoots Gabriel a disparaging look and Castiel has to struggle to bite back his laugh. How could he dream of giving this up? These people are his friends, his...
His family. 
“So we go. We’ll go somewhere new, make our own destinies. Team Free Will.” Dean takes a drink from his glass. 
“Nifty title, but I think you’re leaving a few steps out,” Gabriel says. “I’m all in favor of Team Free Will, but exactly how are we going to make our way in the world?”
Gabriel’s eyes cut to Castiel. It’s Castiel who always has the answer, Castiel whose brutal logic always comes rushing forth at times like these. 
And this is the time for logic. Both the Novaks and the Winchesters have considerable financial resources, and they’ll stop at nothing to regain their lost sense of pride. If they’re found, then the best they can hope for is a quick death. Castiel might have tucked the majority of his finances away, but his funds won’t stretch nearly as far or as long as he’ll need them to. They’ll have to get jobs. Or else...
Maybe they could move to a different city and start their own family. Maybe, one day, they could come back here and take back what’s rightfully theirs. 
Castiel glances over at Dean. They could run this town. They could have it all. 
“I don’t know,” Castiel finally answers, ostensibly answering Gabriel, but never looking away from Dean. 
“I guess we’ll make it up as we go.” 
181 notes · View notes
Text
Smoke & Mirrors - part 4
Neil x Reader
Chapter 4: Save me
(see chapter 3, 2, 1)
summary: what’s gonna happen if we lock them together for some time...?
warnings: some violence, language and other explicit things, 18+ 
author’s note: 4,8k words, just because I thought I needed to add more plot to it because you wanted 2 shorter chapters instead of a longer one. Who’s laughing now? 
Reading this may cause a slight whiplash. Sorry, not sorry. 
song for this chapter: Aimee Mann - Save me 
Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?
Tumblr media
----
The Protagonist’s eyes darted at Ives. 
“And what did she say?”
“Short answer? Nunya,” Ives shrugged, closing the door behind him.
Wheeler giggled and TP looked at her in confusion.
“Long answer,” continued Ives, joining the other two by the coffee machine, “is that as long as they're doing their job, it doesn’t matter who they are fucking in their free time.”
“And are they?”
“What, fucking? I thought we’ve already--”
“No, doing their job,” TP pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I have a mission for them, but it requires locking them together for a significant amount of time.”
Wheeler took a sip from her cup. “If they don’t bond, they’ll bone, and I’d say it’s better than killing each other.”
Ives snorted, clearly amused, but TP hid his face in his palms and groaned lightly.
“Was that your plan all along?”
Wheeler gave them an innocent smile. “Wasn’t yours?” she asked, and as she caught the exchange of looks, her eyes lit up. “You’re welcome.”
-----
You found the car parked near the front door and you had to admit - that grey-ish sedan was the dullest, most ordinary vehicle you’d seen in a while. And that’s why it was perfect.
Neil tossed you the keys and proceeded to load your bags into the trunk. You went to check the GPS setting. The total route was calculated for a little over 5 hours, which gave you enough time to go over the details of the assignment at least once on the way there.
As your mission partner took the passenger seat, you handed him the tablet with all the documents loaded up and ready to go. He nodded, fortunately sparing you the small talk and unnecessary comments, and started reading through them out loud as you followed the GPS directions to your destination.
What you didn’t expect was an almost insultingly short length of reports from the previous stakeout teams, and even a slightly more detailed operation brief was not enough to keep you occupied for too long. Exhausting all the work-related topics, you tensed, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence between the two of you. Especially since you caught Neil’s stare, because if his furrowed brows could be any indication, you had a feeling he might start asking way too many questions any minute now. 
As the radio crackled again, you groaned in frustration. There were still two hours left of traveling through the middle of nowhere, and you’d appreciate any distraction that wouldn’t make you want to drive into the nearest tree. Unlike talking to your partner. 
Neil opened the glove compartment and searched through its contents. He found a thick CD case and started flipping through pages curiously. With the corner of your eye, you saw a grin lighting his face when he finally picked one. 
As you heard the familiar piano notes, your knuckles on the steering wheel turned white. Oh, fuck no.
You glared at Neil, who was gently swaying his head, eyes closed, fighting himself to keep a straight face. When the lyrics started, he pressed his palms to his chest right over his heart and looked at you as he mouthed the words.
//When I was young
I never needed anyone
And making love was just for fun
Those days are gone//
You gritted your teeth and focused back on the road, trying to keep in check the rising anger already boiling the blood in your veins, as Neil was clearly feeling the song more and more with every line.
Well, at least this time he wasn’t--...
And then just as the chorus was about to hit, Neil mimicked the opening drum sequence and spread his arms wide, singing along:
//All by myself
Don't wanna be
All by myself
Anymore//
“If you don’t change that fucking song in the next 10 seconds, be ready to walk all the way to the city--...”
“Come on, it’s a classic!” he complained, the biggest smile not leaving his face even for a moment.
You smacked your tongue, finding your most casual voice, “...and I’m not gonna be bothered with pulling over.”
Neil turned down the volume so the music was barely audible, and while it was not what you’d asked him to do, he didn’t give you a chance to scold him. 
“I bet you’ve spent at least one evening listening to that song with a big box of ice cream on your lap,” he smirked, closely watching your reaction to his words.
You could feel your ears burning. Fucking hell, you really hated his guts.
“No,” you scoffed, but even you were not convinced by the sound of that. Judging by Neil’s expression, neither was he. You winced and groaned, ”...shut up!” 
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” - he shrugged - “been there, done that.” 
“Of course you have,” you couldn’t help but snicker at the image planted in your head. 
The blue eyes studied you for a while longer before focusing back at the view outside the window. Meanwhile, the song ended, getting replaced by an instrumental track. You turned the volume up and for the next minute or two, you drove in silence. 
When you heard a light chuckle, you glanced at Neil again. There was something peculiar in the look on his face, a soft gaze in contrast to a knowing grin.
You sighed.
“Do I wanna know what you’re grinning about now?”
Neil raised a brow and his lips parted in an even wider smile.
“Probably not.”
You shook your head, drawing a long breath, wondering how you were going to survive the next forty-something hours together. You could just hope that being at the actual location and starting the real work was going to make it easier. 
Grounding yourself, you stared into the darkness stepping back under the car’s headlights as dusk slowly turned into night. You noticed a faint glow of city lights reflecting in the clouds over the horizon and you relaxed slowly, tuning out anything other than the road ahead. 
Just as the CD player jumped back to the first song again and you switched to a local radio station, now clear of static, you realized your companion had been unusually quiet for the last half an hour. You looked at the passenger seat only to find Neil deep in his sleep and your heart started beating a little faster. Suddenly, everything about the sight seemed endearing - the peaceful face under the ruffled blonde hair, the slightly open mouth almost hidden behind the turned-up collar of the dark navy jacket, the way he wrapped his arms around himself in a little self-hug…
Your lips curled into a fond smile and as your chest clenched painfully, you turned the radio down, wishing you could do the same thing to your feelings just as easily.
-----------
The second you pulled over in the alley at the back of the abandoned hotel, two figures emerged from the door and rushed in your direction. You recognized the fellow agents and jumped out of the car to make the exchange as smooth as possible. 
“Ten-minute window until the patrol comes back,” you said to a short brunette, taking your bags out of the trunk and passing her the car keys.
“Got it,” she nodded, handing you the room key in return. “Our report should be ready before we reach HQ, I will send it to you ASAP.” 
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that the lack of an easy escape plan is intentional,” said Neil as he grabbed one of the bags and looked around.
“But it is,” you shrugged, walking into the building and heading to the nearest staircase. “No loose ends. You’re either good enough to make it out undiscovered and alive, or you get revealed and --...”
“...and then even having the cavalry on call is not going to make a difference, I get it,’ he sighed, matching your two-steps-at-once pace up the stairs, “Can’t say I like it, though.” 
“So let’s try not to do anything stupid so we don’t get caught, shall we?”
A corner of your lips twitched as you heard him scoff at your remark, but to your surprise, he didn’t take the bait. Huh.
When you reached the room, you turned the lock and looked around, taking mental note of the location of every piece of equipment left by the previous team - two cameras, night vision binoculars, and a parabolic microphone placed by the windows. Some parts of the blinds on the windows were broken, others were missing, but the remaining parts still provided a decent cover from the curious eyes peeking up from street level. Other than that, the room was exactly what you would expect from a stakeout location - peeled-off wallpapers of an undefined color, a small table with an electric kettle, a couple of chairs, a mini-fridge, and a mattress. 
As you went to check the last few minutes registered by the camera, Neil started unpacking the supplies. Seeing nothing interesting on the feed, you grabbed one of the water bottles he’d just put on the table and took a seat by the window, your usual first-hour-of-stakeout enthusiasm fending off the tiredness you felt after the long drive.
Neil took a laptop and sat on a chair at the other window, alternating glancing outside and typing in a message to TP with a quick update on your situation.
Your main objective was to observe the building on the other side of the street, especially one loft that was suspected to be a meeting place for one of the smuggling cells’ bosses. Snapping photos of the vehicles pulling over, of the visitors, and reporting any odd activity straight ahead. The usual. But it was past midnight already and your targets were having a pretty quiet night, apparently. 
As Neil finished filing in the paperwork, he stretched his arms and groaned.
“Tea?”
You rubbed your eyes, a sudden wave of sleepiness flooded your brain as soon as you lost focus on the mission. 
“Yes, please, there should be a box with a green one somewhere.”
“Ah, pity, I don’t know how well it’s gonna mix with the biscuits,” said Neil in a ridiculous posh accent, making you facepalm in response. 
Partially, to hide an amused smile. 
You really were that tired, huh?
“I take my tea with no sugar, no biscuits, and no snarky comments, thanks,” you huffed as your eyes followed him to the table.
“I, too, don’t like talking over a cuppa.”
“What did I just say--” you groaned, smacking your thigh in frustration.
Neil giggled and rolled his eyes, now lit by a playful twinkle. “All right, one ‘green tea no bullshit’ coming right up.”
“Thank you,” you sighed, glancing up to the ceiling as if it was supposed to help with the alarming level of annoyance in your system.
Less than two hours on-site and you already wanted to strangle him. 
Among other things.
And before you could stop your tired brain, it brought up a memory of that karaoke night. 
His hands roaming through your body. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor. Your frantic gasp when you felt him inside you. His firm grip on your hips. The heart racing in your chest. Your longing body pressing itself into him even further. His uneven breath on your neck. The quickening pace of his thrusts. Your eyes squeezing shut. His muffled moan when you tugged at his hair. The cold wall against your cheek. Your fingers interlocked. His arm wrapped around you tightly. The things whispered into your ear---
“Your tea.”
“Hmm?” you mumbled, blinking rapidly and focusing your gaze on a thermal cup in front of your face. “Oh, thanks.”
Neil studied your expression curiously, a sly grin hiding in the corner of his mouth.
“Pleasant daydream?”
“Maybe,” you sent him a smug smile and raised a brow.
His lips parted slightly at the implication. Drinking his tea, he schooled his features and sat back on the chair. 
You spent the next moments enjoying the hot beverages, the silence becoming more comfortable with every sip you took. But as the time went by and you ran out of tea, the peacefulness turned into boredom. 
Finally, Neil shuffled in his seat and turned your way. 
"We should play a game."
Even though it sounded tempting, you didn’t trust those roguish sparks in his eyes. 
“We already had a chance to play ‘yellow car’,” - you shrugged - “not my fault you chose a nap instead.”
His puzzled face gave you a hint he didn’t get the reference. Pity.
“I was thinking about some sort of...questions game,” he said and cleared his throat, shifting in his chair again. "To get to know each other better."
"Why?" you stared at him with your mouth open, suddenly taken aback. 
He gave you a half-smile. "Don't you think it's weird that the only thing I know about you is all the ways to turn you on and piss you off?"
"Wouldn't be so confident about that ‘all’ part…" you huffed and lost a train of thought as you spotted the familiar flare in his gaze.
"You’re sure you wanna challenge me like that right now?"
A cold shiver ran down your spine at the way his voice got lower. You gritted your teeth as your mind started racing to find a way out of the dangerous waters. 
"Aren't you a master of multitasking?" you teased, batting your eyelashes.
"And aren't you scared of having an actual conversation?" Neil narrowed his eyes and grimaced slightly. 
"Fine!” you fumed as you tossed your hands in the air in defeat. “Why don’t you get straight to the point because I have a weird feeling you have a very specific question in mind."
A silence that dropped after your words was heavy and you realized you’d made a mistake.
"Actually, I do,” he said, tilting his head and locking his gaze on you. “What's up with you and kissing?"
...shit, walked right into that one, huh? 
You pulled one leg up on the chair, glancing outside the window to avoid the blue eyes boring into you. "It's nothing."
“Didn’t look like nothing to me.”
Sighing, you rested the chin on your knee and wrapped your arms around it, as if that little bit of comfort was enough to make the conversation easier. Your ears were burning, your heart pounded heavily in the clenched chest, and it all was only adding to your frustration. Because it really was nothing. Or maybe it should have been, and that was the issue.
“If you don’t wanna talk about it--”
Your eyes darted at Neil only to meet his soft look. A shadow of concern on his face wasn’t helping, but you were grateful that he was willing to give you a way out.
Although at that moment, you felt you owed him an explanation. 
“No, it’s just that it’s a bit silly,” you said, wincing. “I’m gonna tell you, but if you laugh, I will murder you in your sleep.”
Neil smiled lightly in encouragement.
“Got it.”
So you took a deep breath and squeezed the first word past the lump in your throat.
“It’s just that kissing to me was always something… special,” you cringed, fully aware that you sounded like a flustered teenager. “Like it really meant something. Do you know where I’m going with this?”
Neil’s brows knitted together.
“I think so, yeah.”
“Good,” you sighed, forcing yourself to breathe again. “And some time ago, I made a mistake and opened up too soon, burning myself. Fuck, it’s pathetic, I know, I just…” you hesitated and looked away, feeling the rising panic. You were exposing yourself, again. “...maybe I’m just wired that way and we should leave it at that. And never talk about it again,” your voice was hollow, the result of your brain’s desperate attempts to keep your emotions bottled up, just to keep you safe. 
And after what felt like forever--
“Okay.”
You shot him a thankful look, too overwhelmed to say anything. 
Neil got up, moving his shoulders in small circles to get rid of the stiffness. As he walked by you on his way to the bathroom, he patted your arm lightly. Reassuringly. The tip of your nose tingled and you bit the inside of your cheek, cursing a sudden wave of softness clouding your mind.  
A few minutes passed and Neil was back. He fell on the chair heavily, slowly massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers. Catching a question in your stare, he shook his head and grinned.
“What?” you asked, squinting suspiciously.
Neil chuckled, leaning back and spreading his legs. “Trying to figure you out is giving me a headache.”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, focusing on the view outside the window. 
“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things, you know.”
“So it’s all an act?”
You looked back at him, suddenly perplexed. “What is?”
“This,” he gestured vaguely in your direction and shrugged. “Or rather your usual behavior.”
You snorted. “Oh, I am a real ray of sunshine, but somehow being around you makes my inner bitch jump out,” you teased, meeting his amused gaze. A corner of your lips curled and you exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, after some time you learn life is easier that way, and at one point the line blurs,” you stopped for a second and frowned, wondering what had gotten into you tonight. “Does it make any sense to you?”
Something new tainted Neil’s features as he looked away, smiling sadly.
“You have no idea.”
Just as you opened your mouth to ask what was wrong, the blue eyes darted back at you.
“I’ll take the first shift, already had my nap after all,” the little laugh escaping his mouth felt forced. “You must be exhausted. Try to get some sleep.”
Oh you were exhausted, all right. But all of the sudden it felt as if he wanted to get rid of you and you couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by that. There was something in his presence that gave you a hint that it wasn’t the best idea to pressure him about it now, and you slumped your shoulders, nodding.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, getting up. All that held-back fatigue was going to hit you in full force any minute now, and you really wanted to be laid down by then.
A few moments in the bathroom and you were back in the room again in more comfortable clothes. You rolled out a sleeping bag on the mattress and slipped into it, covering your mouth as you let out a small yawn. 
“Wake me up if anything happens or you need me to take over, will you?”
Neil shot you a quick look from his chair. 
“Sure thing,��� he gave you a weak smile. “Goodnight.”
“‘Night,” you mumbled. 
You curled up and closed your eyes, hoping the heaviness you felt in your chest would be gone by the morning.
--------
It took your still half-asleep brain a moment to remember where you were and what was going on. You looked around as much as you could without moving your body to avoid revealing that you were no longer asleep. Oh right, the stakeout. 
You noticed Neil sitting on the floor by the only floor-to-ceiling window near the corner of the room, looking outside. The early morning light seeping through the blinds was reflecting in the disheveled blonde hair, a fitting addition to his overall tired appearance. It seemed like he’d spent most of the night working through whatever bothered him after your last talk, but he seemed more at peace now. You studied him in a little moment of sleep-deprived self-indulgence, musing over the dark quarter zip pullover, those absurdly long legs in khaki pants--...
Okay, enough. You sat up, rubbing your face.
“How’s the mattress?”
Hearing Neil’s raspy voice made you quite tempted to invite him over to check for himself.
“Passable,” you replied instead, stretching your arms and wriggling out of your sleeping bag. You nodded at the cameras. “Anything?” 
“Not really. One visitor, already on the list,” he said as his eyes followed you around the room.
“All right,” you sighed, flipping the switch on the kettle. “I need coffee, you want some?”
“No, thank you, but if you could pass me a bottle of water--”
You grabbed one and tossed it to him, heading to the bathroom. 
When you finally looked and felt like a decent human being again, you went back to finish making coffee. As you walked to the windows with the thermal cup in your hands, you caught Neil’s resigned stare. You sat down on the floor in front of him, leaning your shoulder against the wall. A glimpse of internal battle clouded his features and you tilted your head, waiting for him to speak up first.
“I didn’t want this,” he blurted out, and when nothing else followed the statement, you cleared your throat. 
“You have to be more specific, I’m afraid.”
Neil clenched his jaw. You noticed a hint of frustration in his eyes, but then his shoulders dropped and he let out a nervous chuckle, fastening his gaze on the view outside the window.
“I wanted to do things by the book. When TP recruited me… I thought I’d be just another field agent and I was okay with that,” he sighed and grimaced. “But he insisted on fast-tracking me, even when I told him it wasn’t fair to the rest of you.” Neil shook his head slowly and a corner of his lips twitched. “He promised me one of his best agents’ help on the way though. Imagine my surprise when the agent in question kept snarling at me and shoving me around instead.” 
When Neil looked back at you, you realized the meaning behind his words and your mind went blank. You stared into the blue eyes with your mouth open, trying to process everything you’d just heard and its implications.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you breathed out, feeling light-headed.
“Why?”
“Nobody told you…?” you asked, but his confused expression was his only answer. And you simply couldn’t believe that he hadn’t known all this time. “I’d been working my ass off for that position,” you huffed, studying his reaction to your words closely. “And then you showed up.”
Neil’s face dropped as he finally connected all the dots. “Fuck...I had no idea, I’m sorry.” 
Seeing his sincere look, you sighed, raking fingers through your hair. Fucking hell, what a mess. The impossible mix of emotions swirled inside you and you giggled hysterically, suddenly finding the whole situation absolutely hilarious. 
“And I had no idea I was supposed to babysit you,” you said as you stretched your legs, positioning them alongside Neil’s. 
“Thought we were having a moment here,” he scoffed, smiling lightly.
You smirked and tapped his thigh with your foot.
“Think again.”
Neil tapped you back, stifling a chuckle. “You’re insufferable.”
“Too bad you can’t do anything about that now, huh,” you teased, wiggling your brows as you nibbled at your bottom lip.
The blue eyes lit up. “Just you wait till we finish the job,” he said slowly and placed a hand on your ankle.
But before you could respond, you heard a phone alert and Neil jumped at his feet.
He read the message quickly. 
“Seems like we are about to see some action after all,” he said, pressing the phone to his ear. You downed your coffee and joined Neil by the table.
“Hold on, I’m gonna put you on speaker… okay, now”
“Hope you two are rested,” TP’s voice filled the room. “We intercepted a phone call. Our target is expecting a delivery in the next hour or so. Significant enough that from this moment on, the mission objective changes.” You exchanged looks with Neil, knowing well what was coming next. You walked back to the windows to keep an eye on the street. “We have a chance to prevent this shipment from spreading to different sellers. I’m sending the cavalry your way. But you’ll need to assess the situation as it progresses.”
“Means we might have to engage early, got it.”
“It’s your call, Neil. And as we have enough intel now… no loose ends. Good luck.” said TP and hung up.
Neil tossed the phone on the table and dashed to the bags to prep the equipment. You noticed movement in the loft across the street and snapped a few pictures before looking back at your partner.
“Are you good to go? You haven’t slept tonight.”
He glanced at you and gave you a smug smile. 
“How nice of you to worry about me.”
You could feel the usual annoyance mixed with a new emotion, but maybe you were just glad to be back on familiar waters.
“Nah, I’m worried about the mission,” you snorted. “Especially if we may end up going in there alone.”
“I’m okay. How does it look out there?”
You looked outside again and tensed as a van appeared at the end of the street. “We’ve got company.”
Neil changed you by the window and you rushed to get ready.
-------
After clearing the back entrance, you found yourselves in the underground garage. 
Splitting up, you took down the guards one by one without raising any alarms. 
Neil checked the van and then you both made your way upstairs. You knew there were at least five more people in the loft, but you had to rely on the element of surprise because the cavalry was still on their way. 
As you got to the door, you cocked your pistol and met Neil’s determined stare. You nodded. 
Bursting through the door, your instincts kicked in, allowing you to put a bullet into two men before they had a chance to realize what was going on. In the next second all hell broke loose. You knew one thing - you somehow underestimated the numbers. And just as you thought that maybe you got lucky and got every last of them, someone grabbed you from behind and you felt something cold and sharp pressed against your neck. Fuck.
You dug your fingers into the arm wrapped around your shoulders, but a stinging pain made you stop any further attempts at breaking free. The blood pounded in your ears and everything seemed to slow down. 
You noticed Neil standing in front of you with a gun pointed right next to your head. 
He secured a grip on his pistol and the man holding you yelled something at him, but you didn’t listen, focusing completely on the blue eyes, now filled with a silent question, looking straight into yours.
You let out a shaky breath and blinked slowly. 
A gunshot echoed through the room.
The pressure on your neck lowered and you heard a thud of a body fitting the floor behind you. 
Neil lowered his gun. 
You stared at each other for what seemed like forever.
“Nice shot,” you said, composing yourself first.
He gave you a weak smile, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, your comms filled with a familiar voice.
“We’ve missed all the fun, eh?”
------
Neither of you said anything on the way back to the HQ, not counting the short answers to the questions asked by Ives, but even he gave up after a while seeing you weren’t in the mood for talking.  
You got your duffel bag out of the trunk and looked around. Neil was standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the building, talking on the phone. You walked up to him slowly, waiting for him to finish the conversation.
“Do they need us to get in to file a report?” 
“No, I convinced TP to give us the rest of the day off,” he said, hiding the phone in the pocket of his jacket. “We can do that first thing tomorrow, I’m just gonna drop the equipment now.”
“Great, thanks.”
You couldn’t wait to get back to your apartment. You tossed the bag on your arm and smiled at the thought of a long hot shower and crashing in your own bed. 
There was just one thing you needed to do first.
Neil took a step towards the building and without thinking too much about it, you reached out for his hand.
“Neil…?”
He stopped and turned around, puzzled. His eyes dropped to your joined hands and slowly moved up to your face. 
You gave him a nervous smile.
“Thank you.”
His features softened and he squeezed your hand gently.
“Don’t mention it.”
And then he smirked.
...of course.
“Guess that makes us even.”
(next chapter->)
114 notes · View notes