#those that did leave comments on part 2 i’m kissing you

[jonathanbiers]

-

[gigabyte-flare]

Insatiable (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Your collages should have listened to you.

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: Huge shout out to @chanif-art who's artwork continues to inspire me and this story. I am completely blown away with how well part 1 was received. Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented and even simply read it. I didn't do a tag list for this one because I think well over 50 people asked and I completely lost track. Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations! I was listening to Little Girl Gone while writing this... for some reason it just fits plagas!Leon.

“Honey, I’ve changed so much since I last saw ya.”

You open your eyes, finding yourself inside Leon’s cell. You dart your head around, looking frantically when you realize you’re chained to the chair, the same chair Leon had previously been chained to. You hear Leon chuckle, a low chilling sound as he walks up from behind you, taking long, slow strides. He turns to face you, you notice the black veins sprawling his body have gotten darker, his eyes more red. He grins as he kneels down to be at eye level with you, his four canine teeth noticeably sharp. He runs his tongue along his teeth.

“There you are, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Leon says with a purr. 

Your eyes are wide, taking labored deep breaths before you attempt to struggle. Leon laughs, shaking his head.

“That won’t do you any good I’m afraid, but don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those chains so we can have some play time.”

Leon stands back up, walking back behind you. You hear him break the chains apart with his bare hands. You waste no time bolting out of the chair and to the door. No matter how much you pull, the door won’t budge. You turn around to find Leon standing directly behind you. He grabs you by the waist pulling you to him. You flail your arms at him, trying to fight him off. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bryan on the other side of the clear panel holding a clipboard, taking notes.

“Bryan?! Get me out of here! I’m trapped in here with him, please! He’s going to hurt me!”

Bryan lifts his head, shaking it, “the data you’ll provide from this is too valuable to pass up I’m afraid. We need to know if he’s capable of procreating with a un-infected human and what the offspring will look like.”

“WHAT?!” you scream, “Bryan have you lost your mind?!”

Completely ignoring your pleas, Bryan continues, “remember what we agreed on, Leon. You are not to infect her with the plaga until she gives birth. After that, you can do with her as you please.”

“I remember the agreement, you fucking prick,” Leon growls next to your ear before he licks your earlobe. 

“NO I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS BRYAN, YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” you continue to scream as you try to fight Leon off.

Leon, however, is much more powerful than you; he bites into your shoulder and makes short work of pinning you to the floor, his hands gripping your jeans and ripping them off you, leaving you with your pair of lace panties. You attempt to crawl across the floor towards Bryan, but Leon drags you back by your hips. Leon flips you over to face him, caging you with his body. He simply stares down at you, his smile wide. You watch as drool drips from his face onto your shirt, which he promptly rips apart to reveal your matching bra to him.

“Aren’t you just delicious to look at?” Leon says, licking his lips before locking his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. 

To your horror, you’re returning his kiss, his hands grasping to both of your breasts. He pulls away after a couple minutes, sitting on his haunches as he pushes your legs apart, noting the dark spot that is now on your panties.

“Oh? You don’t want this? Then tell me why you’re so fucking wet, sweetheart?”

Leaning forward, he grabs your panties with his teeth, dragging them off you before tossing them aside. He then begins undoing the belt on his pants; before long he is pulling his hardening cock from his pants. He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, pushing himself inside you balls deep with ease. 

When the head of his cock kisses your cervix, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan. Leon growls, thrusting into you with an insatiable ferocity, causing you to grip his arms, scratching into them with your nails. You felt like he was fucking you for an eternity when he let’s out another growl, pressing into you as deep as he could possibly go. You feel your cunt clamp around his cock, milking his cum into your body.

Leon stares back down at you, his eyes and grin wide as he laughs maniacally.

You wake up screaming, covered in sweat and tears streaming down your face. You take deep breaths, laying your hand on your chest to ground yourself.

It was just a nightmare.

Once you get yourself calm, you climb out of bed and go into the kitchen of your apartment, making yourself coffee and some toast for breakfast. Afterwards, you get ready for work and head out the door. On your way, you decide to stop at the pharmacy. Walking the aisles, you find the feminine hygiene products, grabbing an ovulation test off the shelf and paying for it. Once you get to HQ, you trap yourself into one of the bathroom stalls, taking the test and waiting for the results. You watch in horror as a little smiley face shows up on the little screen, confirming your hypothesis.

You collect yourself before briskly walking into Bryan’s office. You don’t knock, you simply push the door open aggressively, startling both Bryan and the researcher he’s meeting with, you think his name is Pierce.

“I am not going back down there, Bryan,” you say sternly. 

Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing up to leave, “I’ll go check on the camera feed downstairs.”

You and Bryan stare at each other as the door swings shut. Bryan rubs his eyes.

“Not this again, I’m sorry but I need you to go down there, you’re still the only one Leon talks to. Is this about what happened yesterday? I assure you, we have taken extra precautions to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”

You stomp up to Bryan’s desk, slamming the positive ovulation test onto the desk. Bryan looks down at the test before looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“The fuck is this?” he asks.

“I’m ovulating, this is why Leon keeps saying I smell good and wants to practically throw himself on me whenever I’m down there.”

“That’s absurd.”

“Can you think of a logical explanation, then? I’m all ears.”

“This is not up for debate, you are going to continue working with Leon; that’s an order!”

Suddenly, the lights go dim before red emergency lights come on followed by a loud, screeching alarm.

“What the hell?!” Bryan exclaims, looking around confused.

You’ve never heard this alarm during your entire time at D.S.O., you rack your brain around what it could mean when suddenly, Pierce bursts into the office.

“Pierce! What the hell is going on out there?!” Bryan asks.

“Kennedy’s escaped, sir!”

Leon opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around his cell. Deep down he was seething in rage; he had gotten so close to getting out of this chair and having his way with you. Now, his chair had reinforced steel plating welded to it and they strapped a god damn muzzle onto his face. He could see he now had two men with guns guarding the door at all times. 

Fucking beautiful.

He tested the chains again, but found they had been tightened recently, angering him even more. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and hoped he would see you today. He hated the thought of you seeing him like this, but he desperately wanted to see you and inhale your sweet, sweet scent.

Out of nowhere, an excruciating pain jolts down Leon’s spine, causing him to cry out and writhe in his chair. His four canine teeth grow sharper, his fingers turning black and now taking on a claw-like appearance and a new, sharp appendage was peaking out of his lower back. The guards turned around to look at Leon. They immediately unlock the door and come into this cell to check on him. Leon stops writhing, slumping over in his chair, pretending to be passed out. One guard stays by the door, facing away from them while the other comes over to check on Leon, checking the chains to make sure they’re in place.

Unbeknownst to the guard closest to Leon, Leon’s new tail was extending from his back, coming around from behind the guard. It was very similar to a scorpion’s tail, but instead of a barb on the end, it looked like a blade. Within an instant, Leon’s tail wraps around the guard’s neck, snapping it instantly as four claw-like appendages burst from Leon’s back, breaking the chains holding his arms in place. Hearing the other guard fall to the floor the other guard turns around only to be faced with Leon, who is now up out of his chair and walking towards him, ripping the muzzle off his face, flashing a maniacal grin at the guard. The guard goes to shoot Leon but Leon is much faster, his tail whipping forward and impaling the man in the chest before flinging him aside. 

Leon strides out of his cell, looking down the hallway to see a pair of researchers coming down the hallway. Upon seeing Leon out of his cell, they start shouting at each other and turn to run in the opposite direction. Leon smiles, breaking into a sprint. He leaps, pinning one researcher to the ground with his body while his tail grabs the other by the waist, lifting him into the air.

“Where is she?!” Leon asks with a growl to the researcher he has pinned to the floor.

“Where’s who?!” the researcher stutters.

“Don’t play dumb with me! Where is she?!”

“Up-Upstairs! In Br-Bryan’s office!”

Leon’s mouth clamps down onto the researcher's neck, ripping out his throat as his tail squeezes the other until his spine snaps, falling to the floor as Leon lets him go. At that moment, all the lights dim before red emergency lights come on. Leon breaks back into a sprint to the elevator however, it was not working no matter how many buttons he pushed. He uses his tale to rip a hole into the ceiling, leaping up into it and climbing the elevator shaft. 

Once he reaches the top, he pries the elevator door open, swinging down, landing gracefully in the hallway. People are scrambling to get away from him, bumping and tripping over each other to run down the hallway. Leon’s red eyes scan the area, however, he sees no sign of you. More guards with guns show up, firing at him. His tale whips forward, deflecting their bullets with ease as he lunges forward. He impales one operative with his tail while his hand thrusts through the chest of another, gripping the man’s still beating heart in his claws before crushing it.

“Take her and get out of here!” he hears a man yell from down the hallway.

Leon’s attention is immediately drawn to the man that yelled, immediately recognizing him as Bryan. At one time, he liked the man, a brilliant scientist. Too bad he has to die. Leon watches as Bryan pulls out a pistol, firing shots at him. Again. Leon’s tail and back claws deflect the shots as he stands face to face with Bryan, his tail whipping around and decapitating the man with ease. He brings his tail’s blade to his lips, licking off the blood as he proceeds to walk down the hallway towards the entrance of HQ. 

A researcher is leading you out the front door, shoving you through the door with his back turned to Leon. He’s about to head out himself before Leon’s tail goes straight through his chest. Leon hears the man’s death gurgles as he flings him behind him, his body falling about 20 feet away with a loud thud. 

And there you are, cowering in the entry vestibule, your eyes locked on him, looking up and down his body. Leon straightens out his posture in hopes of making himself alluring to you, his tail whipping back and forth while his back claws flex. 

“Do you actually think you can escape me?” Leon coos, watching as you press your back as hard as you can into the glass doors as he comes closer.

“You never will, my love.” he continues with a grin, licking his sharp canines.

You stumble out of the door, bolting into the street and running as fast as you can to your car.

“I will find you.”

Part 3

[devilmademewriteit]

Dark Paradise

part 3 of Salvatore

read part 1, Salvatore, here

read part 2, Playing Dangerous, here

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

summary: left alone in javi’s bed, you go looking for distractions. finding them only leads you further into his world: a world of danger and violence, where no one can protect anyone.

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, super SUPER light choking) so 18+ only content; pet names (cariño, hermosa, querida, sweetheart, baby) afab fem reader; reader is American; mentions of hair pulling; allusions to SA; attempted SA against reader (not by javi); violence against reader (hitting, slapping, manhandling); smoking; dubcon (power imbalance, trauma sex??).

word count: 7k+

no use of y/n in this fic

u guys. it is here. and the most exciting part is I can already promise u a part 4!! pls be mindful that this part is darker than the rest. it has many triggering themes, so many sure u read the warnings & stay on the safe side of things.

as always, love u all so effing much. feedback, reblogs, comments & asks are always appreciated, & don’t forget to join the taglist in my pinned post !

-em<3

—

No one compares to you. I’m scared that you won’t be waiting on the other side.

- Dark Paradise

“Girl, where did you go?”

You’re on the landline with Carrie, one of the few half-friends you'd made living in Medellín, thighs sore and bruised from the backseat-loving you’d received the night before. While Javi’s at work, you’re on (his words) 'house arrest,' and lounging alone in his apartment feels eerily quiet. The occasional car drives by—you try not to listen for the sound of scraping tires.

So, around 9:30, you’d decided to fill the silent space with a bit of vapid conversation, realizing that last night's antics (and your unexplained disappearance) may have caused a bit of confusion.

You start by filling Carrie in on the generalities: the guns, the car, and the rescue, at first planning to leave out the more… personal details.

Like the one you'd filed away under 'Riding a Cop to High Heaven in the Backseat of his Jeep.'

You also leave out the part where, afterwards, you’d kicked off your heels by his front door, let down your hair in a sloppy, half-drunk movement, made a beeline to the familiar crinkles and folds of his unmade bed, and swiftly passed out in his embrace.

Oh, to fall asleep between those arms for the rest of eternity.

Given your more cynical—okay, borderline self-denying—approach to life, you felt downright ashamed of how much you’d enjoyed it. How much you’d enjoyed him and all of his lasting touches.

And in the morning… Javi’s hardness biting into your hip was a more efficient wake-up-call than the trial nuke sirens back home; the soft kisses laid down the length of your neck and the long, lazy fingers creeping down your abdomen had you surging to consciousness with embarrassing speed. You’d shivered into wakefulness, flattened against his chest.

“Good morning, cariño.” His words were molasses, melted caramel, thick and damp with sleep.  

“Hmmmh,” was your only reply, sloping into your highest octaves as his hand sank to push aside your already-ruined underwear, dipping lower to toy with the switch only he knew how to turn on best. Arching into his spine, last night’s dress crumpled up above your waist, leaving him to feel more, more, more of you.  

“Thought it would take more convincing,” he breathed against your shoulder, a breeze of late august air.

“Wh’time z’it?”  

“We have time, cariño, we have time.”

When his digits pulled a moan from your lips, no other answers really mattered. He’d loosed that deep, guttural rumble of approval that made your chest swell with pride, your legs part in service and need.  

“Can you hold this leg up for me, baby? S’all you need to do.” He’d helped fold up your knee, and you’d turned to meet him with pleading, drooping eyes, dutifully contorting to mold into the shape of his body. “Perfect, baby, good job,” a rough kiss to your temple, “n’I can do the rest, hermosa—I’ll do the rest.”  

He slid in effortlessly, harmonizing to your sigh of relief with a “shit, s’wet,” and sheathing his cock between the folds of your morning slick. Brows furrowing, mouth falling open, you had every detail of your bliss etched on your expression, all for the beautiful man looming over you. “Always fuckin’ askin’ for it, huh, sweetheart?” He'd mused. “Woke me up moanin’ in your sleep, cariño—dreamin’ about last night?”  

An “mhmm,” was all you could muster. Javi’s hips rolled against your ass, and the resulting feeling of overwhelming fullness had you swearing you were still in reverie. When he paused, snaked his arms under your neck and around your waist, and pulled you flush against his chest, you remember it feeling like a dirty, desperate hug.  

“M’sore, Javi,” you’d whined at the stretch of your opening, the continued drag of Javi’s fingers against your aching, weary clit.  

“S’no excuse, baby,” he’d grumbled into the shell of your ear, pressing hard into that tender bundle of nerves. “Gotta get you used to it.”

A harrumph as he’d turned up the intensity, punishing you for your protests. “Y-you’re a mean-mean man, Javier Peña.”

Soft, gravelly laughter danced, twirled, traveled along the dip of your neck. “‘N you’re gonna come so hard for this mean, mean man.”  

He was right, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with the thick, rough pads of his fingertips, the tip of his cock sliding up and down, over and over, in and out of your guts.  

“Yeah—yes—m’gonna come for you, Javi,” you’d admitted.  

But he’d stolen his magical digits away, used them to turn your jaw, to square your face off with his own concentrated, lust-filled expression. “Show me cariño, yes—gonna be picturin’ that pretty lil’ face aaaaall fuckin’ day,” and you’d tumbled over the edge the moment he’d slid back down to the apex of your thighs, drowning in the darkness of his cinnamon-brown irises and the tantalizing circles—drawn from memory—against your clit.  

“J-javi—it feels—feels s-so good—”  

“I know, hermosa, s’just what you needed, fuck—”

He was already close enough, but your climaxing trembles and your whining, choked gasps had him wrapping his hand around your throat, pushing you further and further down the length of his tensing shaft.  

“Shit—you feel like heaven, baby, so good for me—”  

His release came fast and hard, leaking his hot spend into you, painting your insides like brushstrokes on canvas with his final thrust.  

He seemed to lay there for forever, softening between your walls as sweet slumber carried you off once more. “Go back to sleep, baby,” he’d advised against your shoulder (as if you’d needed any kind of encouragement), “Did such a good job; go back to sleep.”  

It was easy to accede to his command.  

You’d come to for a half-second as he’d placed, fully dressed, the clink of his belt and the crisp waft of his cologne rousing you to near-consciousness, a deliberate, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Don’t answer the door for anyone else, okay, hermosa?”

“Huh? Oh—mhm.”

And you’d vaguely registered a low laugh. “Good to know you’re so well behaved when you’re half-asleep.” His finger traced your cheekbone, dragged down to pull teasingly at your bottom lip. “Means I’ll have to keep fuckin’ you to the point of exhaustion.”

“Mhm—please." Squished and mumbled, guttural and breathless.  

Another soft laugh, and then echoes of receding footsteps.  

Waking up a few hours later, you’d peeled your sticky thighs apart, confused at first by the mysterious pool of wetness between your legs.

You didn’t bother cleaning it up, already feeling the loss of your DEA officer. You somehow chose to dial Carrie's number to kill some time on your day off (or else, you feared, you’d have quickly found another use for your bored fingers).

Being alone in his room leaves you feeling very young. Lying in his bed, thinking about the past night’s events… you feel giddy, like a highschool girl after her first time, and anxious, on edge without Javier’s protection.

You just want to gush about it.

“Do you remember that DEA agent? The Texan?”

You barely have time to finish your thought before Carrie’s cutting your question short.

“Sexy Javi?”

She giggles. You snort indelicately into the receiver.

“I never called him that.”

“You didn’t have to,” she returns. “I deduced it from the amount of times you ranted to me about his… callers.”

You fiddle with the telephone chord, smiling artfully to yourself. “I’m in his bed right now.”

There’s a slap. No doubt the sound of a hand clapping over a set of slack lips. And then—

“I thought he lived outside the city?!”

It’s a strange reaction. You’d expected something a bit more on-topic, confused at your friend’s preoccupation with Peña’s living quarters when you’d just divulged such an out-of-character, personal detail.

Well, at least the enthusiasm is there.

“No, he lives right by the embassy.” You respond, rolling lazily onto your side. Opening the top drawer of his bedside table, you grimace to yourself, taking in (on top of the empty bottle of men’s cologne and an old, broken watch) a box of tissue paper, a pair of handcuffs (not regulation), a smatter of sex toys, and a few scattered, unopened condoms. “That new… fancy building on the corner,” you continue, swiping a few tissues between your legs, trying not to giggle at the teasing Javi was in for tonight, “Carrie—are you seriously not gonna ask how it was?”

There’s a pause. You hear a rustle in the background; the sound reminds you of students in class, whipping out pens and notebooks.

Is she taking notes?

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

That reaction felt more appropriate.

It all comes bursting out of you—the night out, Javi’s rescue, your backseat escapade. Carrie’s an ideal audience, gasping and ‘oooh’-ing and ‘girl!’-ing at all the right moments.

When you get to the end of your tale, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Carrie pries for more and more specifics, keeping you on the phone for close to an hour. You don't give her everything (did she really need an approximation of his size?) but you do make sure to remind her, often, that Javier Peña was an excellent fuck.

Finally, the conversation dies down. Sitting up, you realize just how desperately you’re in need of a shower. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, the smell of sex, tequila, and Javi’s day-old cologne clinging to your skin, but his place gets hot, and you hadn't anticipated the need to pack deodorant in your purse during last night's going-out prep.

Either way, Carrie's become distracted, the length between your words and her responses growing with every passing minute. You notice a Spanish conversation taking place in the background, no doubt the reason for her decreasing attentiveness.

You’re about to hang up, launching into a polite, “alright girl, I’ll let you go” when she goes back in for more.

“Is he home now?”

She blurts it out, and you're a bit taken aback. Frankly, the urgency of her tone feels a little jarring.

“Um, no,” you answer, uncertain, stretching out your vowels, “I think he went in early today.”

“Good.”

Her clipped tone continues to confuse you. It’s… not playful anymore. It’s administrative.

Commercial.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh,” a flutter of shrill laughter, “Just wanted to make sure he’s not listening in on our—”

There’s a knock at the door before she can finish. You call out just a sec! automatically, pulling on your rumpled clothes from the night before as the receiver tumbles onto the unmade bed.

It’s only once you’ve lumbered over, wiped the grogginess from your eyes, once you’ve unlocked the door and twisted the handle—it’s only once your head is covered with a thick, scratchy fabric, once the world’s gone dark and a cry of surprise is wrenched from your throat—that you recall Javi’s warning:

Don’t open the door for anyone else.  

Something else takes over. Something primal. Fight, fight, fight. Find the flesh and punish it, scramble for purchase into any detectable, softer areas. Squirm until your legs give out, 'till your knees hit the floor and the beginnings of bruises scatter across your burning skin in a plethora of vulnerable places.

But when you thrash around like that, make sure your head doesn’t hit the doorframe.

Because then? It’s lights out.

—

The first thing you notice is the smell.  

Weed and tobacco. Wet weed and tobacco. It’s not a smell you’re accustomed to (you worked for the DEA, for crying out loud). It makes your already-pounding head spin, so it takes a second before you remember that you’re not safe—you’re not at home, you’re not at Javi’s, and you’re not with Javi.

Instincts kick in. Your stomach aches with fear, lighting you up from the inside, energizing every inch of your body. You wrench, pull, struggle against the restraints suffocating your wrists, binding your hands around the back of a rickety, wooden chair. You can’t kick at anything, either. Your ankles are crossed, squished on top of each other and secured by a firm length of (what you assume to be) rope.

And then the canvas is unceremoniously yanked off of your head, taking a few hairs from your scalp along with it.

You squint, blinking into the dim light, slowly adjusting to your surroundings: some sort of musty basement with concrete walls and floors, decorated by nothing except a couple of small, rectangular windows near the too-high ceilings. It’s completely empty—save for your company.

One, two, three strangers. All men. All Cartel, by the looks of them.

And all positively leering.  

The one nearest you, holding the bag in his hands, speaks down to you. It’s quick and harsh, mocking and cruel. Spanish and unintelligible.

Your hatred towards the captor blinds you; it coaxes the animal out of its cage. You spit: “I don’t speak Spanish, motherfucker.”

(Even if you did, the adrenaline coursing through your veins wouldn’t allow you much room for comprehension).

From the shadows, another man appears. He lumbers over to you, and you notice the peculiarity of his European-looking hat as he squats down to level with you.

He clicks his tongue, dousing you with a look of disapproval. “That’s not very nice, hermosa.”

You shiver. Javi had called you that before, many times. And even though it sounded totally different coming from this foul man’s mouth, shrouded under the veil of a thick, Spanish accent, it sticks.

You hold your tongue, biting it to keep from sobbing. The glint in his eye, visible behind his glasses, moves from playfulness to exasperated ire.

He sighs, stands, and grabs your hair, tilting your head back harshly to look down at you. “You’re very hard to catch, you know that?” He muses, darkness trickling across his features. “But you’re alone now, Americana. No DEA—no Javier Peña to protect you.”

He makes a mockery of his name, oozing cockiness as it comes spitting out of his smirk. You glare up at him, simmering anger and bubbling fear claiming you. Would they go after Javi?

No. They wouldn’t dare.

Only an American like yourself—low-value, replaceable, unnoticeable—was expendable.

“What do you want from me?”

He smiles, releasing your head and taking a step back.

“You’re the assistant, aren’t you?” And that deceptively sweet tone is back, frightening you more than his rage. “We need directions, hermosa. You’ve been in all the government buildings—we know, we watched you. Why don’t you give us some assistance,” he pauses, leaning down towards you, “And tell us where your evidence against Pablo Escobar is filed.”

You snort, unimpressed, shocked, and a little humoured by his little monologue. This was what they were after?

This was why you'd been fearing for your life?

A fucking… map?

“Find someone else. I don’t know shit.”

It’s honestly true. The bastards could not be barking up a more wrong tree. For all their criminal genius, they hadn’t managed to catch the fact that you really, truly didn’t give a flying fuck about the particulars of your job.

But if this was about Escobar—the Pablo Escobar—then these were men from the Medellín cartel. The same Medellín cartel that left scores of expendable bodies in its wake, that bombed, assassinated, and tortured government workers like they were no more than rats in a science lab.

You weren’t the end-all, be-all of this operation.

No, you were just another lead.

A lead that (only you knew) led to jack-all. Unless they were scrambling to learn about the best places to go out dancing or the worst brands of moisturizer, you had very little to offer the thugs.

The one with the strange hat—the ringleader, you decide—shares a smile with his co-conspirators, and you begin to regret the arrogance of your statement.

“There are many ways we can do this,” he warns, voice sloping down to a dangerous hum. “It can be easy…” and he lowers a hand to his belt buckle, setting every cell in your body on fire, “Or hard.”

It‘s a plea to God more than a question for your captor, your desperate, self-pitying: “Why me?” It can't be above a whisper, but the asshole responds anyway.

“It’s more enjoyable when we get to work with something pretty.” A dark laugh. “Who’s going to come looking for you, hermosa? Your family? Your friends? Your… government?” He clicks his tongue again, looking down at you in mock concern. “Like I said, we’ve been watching. You have a habit of disappearing. Running away.”

Figures.

Figures that the reason you’d wound up with your life on the line, your body in danger, was because of you. Once again, it boiled down to the lack of attachments you’d curated over the years, passing from one thing to another, quick on your feet the second they hit solid ground. For God’s sake, the only reason you’d made it this long in Medellín was because it hadn’t managed to bore you yet.

Figures that the closest thing to stability you’d been able to find was in the crime capital of the world. It was poetically honest, laughably ironic.

Of course, the American government would assume you’d fucked off—just another ditzy contractor swept up in the thrill of a south-American life.

The other part held water, too—no one would come looking for you. Your boss might huff about ‘these flighty secretaries, can’t hold ‘em down for anything,’ but beyond that, your disappearance would cause less than a stir.  

Somehow, that thought comforted you. The lack of collateral, the lack of another’s suffering… very little harm would befall the world in the wake of your absence. Peace was beginning to crest upon your settling soul. And, either way, you’d worked in this line of work for long enough to know that your death warrant had been signed the very second they’d seen you as a target.

You give the bastards what they want? You die.

You hold off? You die.

All things considered, you resign yourself, making up your mind.

Still, your defiant voice quivers as you say it.

“Fuck you.”

The ringleader smiles, like a predator cornering its prey, taking that first bite into hard-earned flesh. Your brain responds, screaming warnings in big letters, in flashing red ink. He barks an order to his underlings in Spanish, and the other two men come forward, roughly undoing the holds along your ankles, your wrists.

“Get the fuck off of me!”  

But they don’t listen, yanking you upright and shoving you onto the ground. Your vision becomes hazy. Something takes over, a protective instinct, perhaps, barring you from your own body. Distantly, you observe yourself fighting, but really all you feel is beyond. The words ‘I am not here, this is not happening’ wash over you over and over again, like a cleansing, salt-water wave.

Hands on cement. Clothes torn, destroyed—the cold barrel of a gun to your head, a man barking orders, hitting, slapping—and right as the worst is about to happen, everything just…

Stops.

It’s like they’re spellbound, bugs frozen in amber.

You hear the cause of it well after your torturers do. Footsteps upstairs, and gunshots, screams followed by the definite sounds of a creeping squadron.

The men get messy. Scrambling around, they gather their options. In your dazed periphery, you watch their eyes latch onto one of those open windows, 8 or 9 feet up from the ground.

A hushed conversation ensues. You're familiar enough with the more violent side of the Spanish vocabulary to string together their meaning.

“Shoot her? — no, the noise, they’ll find us faster — kill her? — too long — take her? — too messy — we have to go, we have to go, we have to go.”

Your ruined shirt is shoved down your throat, and then you’re gagging on it, ankles bound once more, shaking and naked on the freezing concrete. The trio uses the little wooden chair to frantically sneak out of the window.

It would be downright comical if you weren’t so terrified.

Soon, you’re alone, choking on cotton and wriggling to flatten your back against the wall. Centuries pass before the movement upstairs graduates to the basement below.

Relief doesn’t grace you. Any man—DEA, cartel, or Colombian police—would likely perform the same violence as your previous captors had planned to. A naked girl, roughed up and completely unprotected, in a dark, hidden basement, totally at their mercy… Shit. You were basically an invitation. A free meal, offered up to a different, hungry crowd.

You just pray that this one might be gentler.

The stairs creak under the certain weight of bodies in motion.

Tears run down the side of your face, dripping down from your temple onto the ground below. You compress into a ball, making yourself as small as possible.

The echoes grow louder, closer and closer. At this point, you just hope they’ll assume you’re an enemy or get trigger-happy and give you a quick taste of lead. Put you out of your misery.

Giving up was well within your comfort zone.

Someone gasps when they see you, and a single name hurtles through the space.

An out-of-commission part of your mind recognizes it—the name—knows it as a comfort. Still, you only tremble, trying to disconnect yourself from what must be a wishful, crafted, deceitful version of reality.

Then someone else comes forward. Your eyes, weary of keeping you in the dark, fling open just in time to watch a tall, dark-haired man push through the crowd of soldiers. You watch his expression—shock to rage, rage to relief, and then rage all over again.

He rushes you, falling to his knees before your wrecked form.

His first move is to wrench the fabric from your mouth. You croak out the most desperate sob of relief, all those stifled, unvoiced expressions of terror tumbling out in great-big-heaves.

“Are you hurt?” He asks.

“No.” You respond.

“Did they…?”

“No.”

Javi tears his big doe-eyes, filled with worry, away from yours, twisting to impatiently address the frozen crowd of four or five behind him. “Can somebody take these fuckin’ ties off?”

Switchblades slice through twine. Someone brings you a blanket, and Javi bundles you up in it, gathering you and lifting you in his arms. You don’t resist, clinging around his neck and hiding in the comfort of his shoulder.

“Hermosa—”

You regret the way you flinch. “Please—please don’t call me that anymore.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t ask questions, sounding a little softer, a little more unsure when he presses on, muffling the desperate edge to his tone. “Did you see where they went?”

“The window. Out the window.”

Most of the rest take to that almost immediately, scattering to start on their chase. Javi delivers a set of orders in his native tongue.

Then, he grows silent, carrying you through the house with two soldiers in the lead. “Close your eyes, okay? You don’t wanna see this.” But now that they’re open, you can’t seem to shut them. You only glimpse flashes of the upstairs area. Tables covered in paper, glass contraptions and coke, so much coke, which is almost more impressive than the quantity of blood splattered against the peeling walls.

And Carrie.

Carrie with half her brains hanging out, long, dark, red-soaked hair fanning around her crown like a rotten halo, lounging on the couch, fingers splayed and palms to the sky as if she were ready to wrap them around a glass of white wine—as if she were ready to catch up on girl-talk.

What’s Carrie doing here?

Should I ask her?

She’s dead.  

No, she’s not. She’s right there. She was waiting for me to be done so we could catch up. That’s just how she always sits—it’s just the scoliosis.

That’s why she always showed up so late to the club. She… she couldn’t dance too long because of the scoliosis.

You’re still debating whether or not Carrie would be up for a bit of gossip, another debrief, when big, strong arms lower you into the passenger seat of a Jeep Cherokee.

Javier buckles you in.

“We can’t go to your place—that’s…” and you trail off weakly, throat burning with effort. “That’s where they took me.”

He nods, his face a complete mask of concentration.

But you know him.

He’s holding everything back. You appreciate him for that, never wanting to hear a man shout for the rest of your cursed time on Earth.

“Steve’s, then.”

It’s your turn to nod.

—

Javier drives in complete and total silence, only speaking the occasional clipped sentence into his radio. Despite your vulnerability, despite your overwhelming gratitude, you feel guilty for taking him away from his work, from his team. For forcing him to rescue you once again.

For sure, he’s angry. Would he have to move? Find a new place? Leave all his stuff at the old one? Would a better captive have paid better attention, taken note of the exact direction her kidnappers had taken off in after clearing the window?

Soon, you’re settled against a couch, the light from the opposing window breaking in and dancing across Javi’s face. A blonde woman—fiery, familiar, concerned—hands you a glass of water.

Javi watches you, eyebrows notched together, lips drawn into a thin line as you take a slow sip in silence. The liquid slides down your throat, cooling and soothing the rips and tears there.

And they both won’t stop staring. Truly, their joint study makes you self-conscious, watching on with unapologetic intent as you shiver under the scratchy blanket.

Finally (thankfully), Steve's wife—Connie, you recall—speaks.

“You can go, Javi. I'll take it from here.”

“No.”

She looks borderline offended at his line in the sand.

“I don’t think she’s in any shape to talk, Peña.” It’s authoritative, protective, clearly marked with harboured resentment.

She'd make a good mom.

He scoffs. “I’m not gonna make her talk, Connie. Just don’t wanna leave her like... this.”

Connie looks confused. They share a glance, and an eventual understanding passes over her expression. In fact, even in your distressed state, you’re almost certain you catch a hint of a smile.

“Well if you’re both staying, we’ll need food.”

Javi nods absentmindedly, lighting up a smoke. You look away, still feeling the weight of his eyes boring into your ducked head.

She clears her throat. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Remember to lock the door, Javi.”

Then, swinging her coat on, she traces an awkward line out of the apartment.

Silence flits across the room. The agent continues to study you from his seat at the counter across the room.

“Are you okay?”

You pick at your nails, internally asking yourself the same question.

“I’m just glad you were there,” you muster up, looking up at his softened, warm gaze. Concern etches a couple of fresh lines on his face.

Javi nods, taking a long drag. “Always, sweetheart. I’m glad I was there, too.”

You shiver at the thought of what could have happened if he and his team had showed up just a few minutes later. What shape he would have found you in, or if you’d ever permit yourself to feel the touch of a man again. Of anyone again.

“Why were you there?”

The question comes out of nowhere, bursting out the moment you realize that you hadn’t yet bothered to ask him how he’d pulled off yet another well-timed rescue.

It couldn’t have been in answer to your prayers—those had never worked for you before.

“Carillo’s been following Escobar’s cousin for a while. Zeroed in on the neighbourhood, but we spent all morning doing searches. Honestly,” he breaks off for a moment, rubbing at his temples, “It was just damn luck that we found you when we did. Wish I could say it wasn't, but it was. We were gettin’ ready to call it off. I had… no idea you weren’t at home.”

He blames himself for it. You can tell. In turn, you blame yourself for that—for his misguided, self-inflicted anger.

There’s more left unsaid.

“My friend—I called her this morning. From your place. She was there. She was… dead. I think.”

Javi doesn’t react, evidence of the years of gore, wreckage, and betrayal he'd witnessed.

You swallow, soldiering on.

“I told her. I told her where I was. Could she… could she have told them?”

Is she the reason this happened to me?

Slowly, lips pressed around his cigarette, Javi nods. “I’m sorry,” he barely mumbles.

Strangely enough, you’re not. That’s what you say: “I’m not.” And it’s true. “She was upstairs when it was all happening. I’m glad she’s dead.”

Now, he looks at you with a consideration that swells into a kind of respect. Not a respect, no not respect. A knowing. A new kind of understanding, of equal footing.

You meet him head-on with it, basking in your retribution, revelling in the immediate justice she'd been served. You’d mourn the person you thought she was when your wounds weren’t so open, so fresh.

"They wanted directions, Javi," you suddenly blurt out, voice hoarse, "Isn't that insane? They were gonna... they were gonna do that for directions. Not even the evidence, just fucking directions-"

Javi lifts his hands in the air, signalling for you to slow down. Normally, it would make you want to tear his arrogant head off. Now, however, you just do, although the silence isn't very comforting. After a moment, you can tell there's something Javi’s been avoiding, something he’s holding in. The agent clears his throat, finally calling it quits on his tiptoe-ing around the subject.

“Cariño," he begins, "I know you told me earlier, but I... I gotta be sure. Did they hurt you in… any way?”

God, he sounds so deeply wary, unable even to speak his fear into existence. You shake your head no, prompting his shoulders to relax.

“Okay. Good,” he breathes, crossing his arms and looking down at the rug. “Don’t think I could…”

Panic ripples through your frame.

'Doesn’t think he could' what? Bear to look at me, knowing the enemy had been where he’d been, done what he’d done? Touch me in the same grooves they'd left on my skin? Javi’s not that kind of man—is he?

“Don’t think I could forgive myself if anything were to happen to you under my watch.”

The rush of anxiety quickly dissipates, replaced by a stifling bloom of admiration and adoration across your chest. Like soft tendrils, warming your shivering body from within.

You smile self-consciously, scoff, and meet his eyes. “I wasn’t ‘under your watch,’ Javi. I opened the door. It was my fault.”

He raises his eyebrows, huffing a breath before ashing his dart, rising, carving a path towards the couch-cushion next to you and taking your glass of water from between your hands. It clinks as he sets it on the table. Taking your unsteady hands between his hardened palms, he coaxes you into meeting his golden eyes.

“It’s not your fault, herm—” a pause as he corrects himself, noticing your flinch, “—cariño. It’s not your fault.”

He waits for your nod of acknowledgement before pulling you into his arms. You let yourself go limp, dragged into the plushness of the couch and the firmness of his chest.

He lays a kiss to your forehead. He fidgets with your hair. He traces long, lazy lines up and down your spine.

How had you gone from that youthful giddiness this morning to this dark, anxious wreck in a matter of hours? It wasn’t even two o’clock yet.

The comfort your agent provides is good—will always be good—but you want more. Every inch of attention he gives you is just another step away from that cold basement, a foot towards freedom.

Time heals all wounds, and you want a distraction while you face those excruciating seconds. Something to move it along. Something to keep you busy, to keep the harrowing images at bay.

So you tilt your head up. Finding his lips, you press into him, shuddering when the rough hairs of his mustache tickle your top lip. When your body asks for more, when your tongue meets his and your hand drops to his thigh, Javi tenses, pulling back and breaking off the kiss.

“Sweetheart—you’re not in a good place,” he whispers, lovingly running his fingers through your hair.

You look up at him with eyes full of need, wordlessly begging him to give in. “I am now,” you assure him, tossing a leg over his hips and straddling his body. His expression darkens as you slowly chip away at his resolve, one touch at a time. “I’m with you.”

He smiles, plucking your hands from his chest. Every kiss he lays to your knuckles sends a ripple of electricity up and down your spine. “That right?” He muses between embraces. “That all you need?”

You nod, the pace of your shallow breaths picking up in anticipation. “When you touch me, Javi, it’s like you’re cleaning them off me,” you croon, leaning forward to brush your lips against his jaw.

“You’re in shock, baby,” but his hands defy his words, slipping down to circle your waist, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Slowly, deliberately, you lean back to stare directly into his heavy-lidded eyes. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

You feel him tense at that, his body hardening alongside the weight building underneath your thigh. He lets you go on, deft hands pooling onto your hips.

“Get rid of them for me,” you plead, grinding down onto his bulge.

“Make me all yours again.”  

That does it.

His hands shoot up to your face, firmly cupping your cheeks between their heat. Then, Javi’s kissing you harder than before, warming your desire up to a feverish level. You moan into him, turning to putty in his grasp.

He peppers kisses down your jaw and up your neck, allowing you to clumsily untuck his shirt and undo his belt. It’s frantic and needy—it’s pure business. You free his length from the confines of his clothes, heavy breaths mingling when you look down in tandem, hungrily watching your small, delicate hand pumping up and down his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, his dark crown of cropped curls falling back against the couch, “You make it fuckin’ hard to be a good guy.”

You smile, spreading the slick dribbling at his tip around the head of his cock.

God, the sight of him never gets old.

“Good guys listen, Javi,” you tease, managing to pull off an air of sultriness, “Not just to no—also to yes.”

A lazy, roguish grin spreads across his face. “You are feeling better, aren’t you?” and he knocks a squeal out of you when he cages you in his arms, flipping you over ‘till your back’s digging shapes into the worn-in cushions below. “Gettin’ mouthy already.”

You giggle up at him, but all of your noises dwindle when a few rough fingers push your torn, ruined underwear to the side. You grow especially wordless when one separates your folds and makes its way inside you.

Javi gives you his signature look of condescension, of mock pity.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He taunts, thumbing that aching bundle of nerves. “All the ways I’ve had my dick in you, just this—” he makes a point to curl his fingers towards himself, pressing against the most desire-stricken spot, “—‘n you can’t find your words?”

Your throat won’t open, choking around your own pleasure. Instead, you nod with enthusiasm, desperately clinging onto his forearm. “More.”

He quickly accedes, pushing another long and thick finger inside you. You shudder at the perfect sting—the stretch—as your opening hugs his knuckles. Javi mutters curses to himself, angry and lustful, supervising your writhing form.

“No one else gets to see you like this.” He speaks low, sitting up to work you with both hands. Your body responds without your permission; Javi clicks his tongue and shoves you back down when your hips buck up. “Don’t deserve it,” he continues voicing his thought as if no interruption had occurred, “I’d have to track ‘em down and kill ‘em.”

His tone goes beyond protectiveness, easily veering into the realm of the possessive. “I-I wouldn’t be good f-for them, Javi,” you manage, wanting to comfort him, to calm him, “Wouldn’t—wouldn’t listen.”

“Oh,” he smirks down at you, finally pulling his fingers from your soaked, ready cunt. “Like you listen to me?”

You spread your legs for him, shimmying down until he’s hovering right above you. He strokes himself, taking you in with hunger, playfulness and… something else.

Something like devotion.

A smile. You stroke his jaw. “You come harder when I misbehave.”

He shrugs and nods, a silent, ‘you got me there,' before lining himself up at your entrance.

You whimper, a pathetic, pleading sound, when the head of his cock finds your opening. “Then make sure to misbehave.”  

He rocks inside you, taking note of the way your jaw goes slack, hanging open, and the way your brow furrows, grateful eyes glazing over, showing high praise for that feeling of fullness.  

And he laughs to himself.

“Needy fuckin’ thing,” he coos, settling into a comfortable rhythm. “Beggin’ for cock after bein’ kidnapped. I shouldn’t be feedin' into your crazy, cariño.”

It is crazy. But you don’t care, giggling along to his taunt.

“Just makes me feel so-so good, Javi,” you breathe.

“Yeah?” He coaxes, sitting back to tower over you, pressing your thighs to your calves; the new angle has bliss rippling through your centre, your back arching involuntarily. “What feels good?”

He shoves your hips down, lowering a finger back to your clit.

“Oh—God—y-yourcock—” he nods approvingly at you, beckoning you to go on, “your—your fingers, too.”

He slows his pace, pulling out fully before slamming back inside you.

“Look at it, cariño,” Javi instructs, steadying your hips once more. “Watch me fuck your pretty lil’ pussy.”

You struggle onto your elbows and obey, mouth slack and perpetually open. Pressure builds at your core as you watch every inch of his hard, dark length disappear, over and over, inside the shelter of your body. It’s so dirty, and somehow the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“M-made for you, Javi.”

And he moans, an animalistic sound you’d never heard from him before.

“S’right, baby, made just for me.” He flattens his fingers against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. “Can you come for me now?”

You nod, grateful for his permission as soon as you start to feel your thighs shake. The tension snaps within you, and you tumble over the edge of your climax with a high pitched whine.

“Good girl,” he praises, low, deep, and bristling with pleasure, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

You ride it out. Javi shows no mercy, squeezing your waist and bouncing your lower half against him. His biceps and shoulders strain against his shirt, the sight making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

After having him a few times, you were well aware of his impressive stamina—Javi wasn’t going to finish without giving you another one. Nonetheless, the overwhelming pleasure has you squirming away from his unrelenting grasp.

He pulls you back against him, steadying you between two forceful hands.

And he fucks you harder.  

“Still remember them, querida? ” He breathes.

You find your voice, using great effort to stammer out a “y-yes."

It's not the correct answer.

Javi growls, “Then I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”

His shirt grazes the insides of your thighs, and you're certain that every part of his form is working to set your skin on fire. A skilled hand wraps around your jaw, and Javi leans over you, lowering his lips to latch around a hard, peaked nipple.

Your whimpers do nothing to stop him. He just keeps rhythmically rocking into you, the head of his cock reaching impossible, beckoning depths.

An almost-sob wracks your lungs. “S’a lot, huh? Takin’ all this cock inside you…” Javi shushes you with feigned sympathy, nipping and suckling at the softest spots at his disposal. “S’okay, baby, s’okay.”

Then he makes his way to your lips, forces you to kiss him—deeply—as your lungs scream for oxygen. He locks your hands above your head in just one of his own, the pressure of his weight the only thing keeping your squirming limbs in place.

And then his mouth is sliding down your jaw, his breaths hot and heavy next to your ear.

“Fuck—can feel you gettin’ close, sweetheart, gonna come again?”

All you can do is nod.

He rolls into you—hard and deep—forcing tears to pull from the outer corners of your eyes.

“S-so good to me,” you manage, seeing pure white as your third orgasm of the day blooms from between your seizing legs.

He groans, freeing your hands (which immediately find stability in the firmness of his shoulders) to clumsily wipe the tears from under one dazed eye. Above you, he resembles a hungry, lustful angel, eyes darkened with unbridled need, affection, approval.  

“‘M’good to what’s mine, baby,” he whispers, pulling you into the crook of his neck as he chases both your highs. “Come, cariño—s’right, come for me.”

And you do, aching, ruined cunt squeezing and releasing, fluttering around Javi. He moans a downright sinful ‘fuck’ at the sensation, reaching his own peak almost in tandem with yours.

Only once his every last drop is spent, once his groan and your whines have stopped echoing around the unfamiliar, open space, does he pull back from your neck.

And when he looks at you… God. There’s something you’re both not saying.

“Only wanna see you cry like this, baby,” he tells you, laying a long, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Never gonna let them—let anyone—lay a finger on you again.”

Your breath hitches, the words thick and sticky in your throat. The both of you are dazed, breathless, and completely wrecked. “I’m… I’m glad we met. That you—that we’re doing this.”

He raises his eyebrows, crooning a soft ‘yeah?’ as he pushes your hair from your face.

You nod. “You make all of it worth it.”

He’s appreciative when leaning in for a kiss, slipping out of you and groaning against your lips. You tangle your fingers in his damp hair, leaning up into him with every aching muscle in your body, wanting nothing more than to become a part of his whole. When he pulls away, it's only to tuck his softening length back into his briefs. He focusses on you again, leaning over to affectionately stroke your knee.

“Is it just sex for you?”

His question comes as a bit of a surprise—you’d never heard him speak so openly, so innocent and vulnerable.

You cup his face. Despite the fact that he looks like the men from earlier, carries the same guns and ammo, knows what they know, even speaks their language, he’s never seemed so separate from them, an entirely different species.

“No—at first, maybe, but now… No. Not for me.”

He eases into a soft smile, wrapping you back into your blanket before laying back, manhandling you to rest against his still-unsteady chest.

Those masterful hands comfort you in a million different ways. He plays with your hair and traces the highest points of your cheekbone. He massages your knuckles, pulls you in for little kisses, dips into the curve of your waist.

“How about you?” The question is small, even though you anticipate the answer.

He takes a second before answering. When he does, his voice is low, quiet.

“Not at all, sweetheart.” He tilts your head up, his soft, caring gaze probing into every corner of your own. “Honestly, I think it’s been more than that since the first time you said ‘go fuck yourself, Peña.’” He whistles under his breath, exaggerating his approval. “Shit was hot.”

It makes you laugh, but it's also enough to make your heart soar. Settling in to the nook of his neck, you breathe in his familiar, earthly scent, until the exhaustion of the day eventually weighs on you.

You fall asleep with a smile on your face, entertained by the fact that while you really should be a wreck, you feel perfectly at ease, wrapped in the arms of your favourite DEA agent. In fact, you can hardly remember what your kidnappers looked like—or sounded like, for that matter—succumbing to slumber, you only think of him.

—

Less than three hectic, hazy days later, you’re pulling a suitcase through the Medellín international airport. There was no sense risking it anymore—you'd have to be transferred to the States until the assholes were caught. Ambassador's orders.

Javi flanks your side, eyes peeled for any abnormalities in your surroundings.

Your heart breaks with every step you take. He comes all the way to the gate without saying a word, merely holding onto one of your bags (that he'd insisted he carry) in a white-knuckled fist.

You’re running behind. There’s not much time.

He doesn’t say he’ll call—knows he’s not that kind of man. You don’t say you’ll visit. You don’t say you’ll write.

No, all you do is lean up on your tippy toes to plant a tender, lingering kiss to his cheek. He returns the favour by cupping your face, leaning down and kissing you intently.

Too intently—as if he were memorizing the grooves in your lips.

Well, that’s what you’re doing, anyways.

Over the loudspeaker, your name is called.

“They’re paging you,” Javi translates, his breath hitting your top lip.

You pull away, doing your best not to cry.

“Thank you.”

It’s all you say—it’s all that needs to be said, really.

Thank you for showing me I matter. Thank you for teaching me patience. Thank you for saving my life three times. Thank you for wanting me. Thank you for making me wait for it. Thank you for giving me a reason to miss this place.  

Thank you for loving me. I think that's what this is.

He hears it all, stuffed and contained, overflowing from the two uttered words.

Then he smiles, that well-trained, protective cockiness spreading across his face.

“You’re welcome, cariño.”

You scoff a laugh, slowly dropping his hand and turning towards your gate.

“If I ever visit home…” he calls after you.

You pause, smiling down at the glistening floor, shaking your head. “You’ll never catch me in Texas, Peña,” you call across the traffic of rushing families and over-packed suitcases. He smiles knowingly, hands in his pockets, watching you leave. “Just lock the fuckers up so I can visit. The weather sucks back home.”

You slowly walk backwards towards the exit, ignoring a few flight-attendant-glares, not daring to break off the playful eye contact linking you to your agent.

“I’ll do it just for you, baby,” he calls, grinning like a fool.

Strange. You’d never noticed how the teasing, that snarky back and forth you’d developed together seemed to put him at ease—to relax him. All that time he'd spent, driving you to the brink of insanity... it comforted him.

And that realization was enough to make you beam.

You commit that final glimpse to memory. Javi—smiling, calm, alive, yours. It was rare enough that you felt sure it would stick.

When you finally turn to face the gate, to face your future, you don’t feel like crying anymore.

It was enough just to have met him.

Maybe—just maybe—he felt the same.

—

All my friends tell me I should move on

I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song

Ahh

That's how you sang it

Loving you forever can't be wrong

Even though you're not here, won't move on

Ahh

That's how we played it

And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody

It won't leave my head

Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine

But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side

All my friends ask me why I stay strong

Tell 'em when you find true love, it lives on

Ahh

That's why I stay here

And there's no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody

It won't leave my head

Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine

But I wish I was dead (dead, like you)

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight

I don't want to wake up from this tonight

There's no relief, I see you in my sleep

And everybody's rushing me, but I can feel you touching me

There's no release, I feel you in my dreams

Telling me I'm fine

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side

Every time I close my eyes, it's like a dark paradise

No one compares to you

But there's no you, except in my dreams tonight

I don't want to wake up from this tonight

—

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[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, sex dreams, time travel, oral sex, rough sex, fang play, size kink, and slight blood play.

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use google translate to help…)

Chapter 2- Bites & Fangs

The last time you had a depression episode, it was in the tenth grade when your old boyfriend, Peter Parker had dumped you for some girl named Gwen.

Well that was many years ago and now you were depressed because you were watching good burger in your ratty old polka dot robe.

But you were in denial, because every time Erica asked if you were depressed you just lied and said you were just working on something important.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out? It’s been two weeks.” Erica asks as you press play to Good Burger. “Yeah, I’m good. I got a pizza coming and I got some drafts to work on.” You half lie. There was a pizza coming.

“Tomorrow let’s go to the park and get some fresh air. You need it.” You ignore her and Milo cuddles up close to you. “Please make sure you clean your dishes. I’ll be back around midnight.” Erica calls out.

When she finally leaves you look down at Milo’s orange little face and you kiss his nose. “I think you’re the only boy I can trust, Milo. I’m sure you’d never leave me in a club bathroom with my panties at my ankles right?”

His blue eyes just seem to stare at you and you nod because you’ve entered your crazy cat lady era. “Don’t answer that. Let’s get you some food and I’ll…clean up.” You pause the movie and bring Milo into the kitchen with you.

You pour him a bit of dry food and mix it with some wet food. You place his food down and he look down at the food then back at you. You kneel down and scratch under his chin and he licks your fingers.

“Milo, don’t ever become one of those jerk cats that leads girl cats on. You keep being a good boy.” You comments after you stand up. You look at the kitchen and decide to start cleaning there.

You get some cleaning supplies and sigh heavy. It’s been two weeks since the club incident and you haven’t let yourself think about Miguel since. Sure he lives in the building but you have no clue which apartment. And yeah he lives in the same city as you but you don’t know which parts he goes to.

Sure you still dream about Miguel, you still dream about his touch, his smell…No. No you weren’t going to do this. You were not about to cry over him again.

You sniffle back the tears and wipe your face with the back of your hand. “Stupid good looking bastard. With your good looking hair and cute accent.” You toss some water into a bucket and Milo just stares at you.

“Milo, you might want to leave the kitchen it’s about to get crazy in here.” You tell him. He simply meows and licks your leg.

Maybe you’re about to be on your period. Or maybe you’re just hormonal but him doing that just made you break down and cry. “Come on Milo, stop. I need to mop up my tears.” You say through your cloudy vision….

••••

After two good cries and half a mental breakdown, you were happy with how the apartment looked. You hear the doorbell ring and you make sure Milo was still sleeping at your feet before you went to answer it.

You grab the money from off the counter and open the door to see a young girl with your food. “Medium cheese pizza with garlic knots?” She asks confirming your order. “You got it.” You hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change. “Actually miss you’re five dollars short.” You give her a side eye and nod. “Let me go and grab you some more money then.” You prop the door open a bit so Milo can’t leave out and you place the food down on the counter.

You go into your wallet and pull out the money you need and go to give it to her. “Here you go.” You hand it to her and she gives an extra big smile. “Tip?” I know fucking we-

“You have a good night.” You tell her. Just as you’re about to close the door. Milo runs between your legs and out the door. “Milo!” You shout after him as you run down the hall.

You almost have him but a door opens and he runs inside. “Milo!” You yell as you start to run inside of the apartment. But something screams stop and you obey that voice in your head.

When you look up your heart was pounding because it was just your luck that it was his apartment. You take several steps back as you see him go back into his apartment. If Milo wasn’t inside you’d be flying back to the apartment and locking yourself inside.

You hear his little meow and you don’t look up because you know those hazel eyes are looking down at you. “Thank you.” You mutter as Miguel hands Milo back to you. “You can’t go running into strangers apartments, Milo. What if they would’ve hurt you? That’s it you’re grounded. No cartoons for a week.” You scold him as you hear Miguel chuckle.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh? I’m sure the little guy didn’t mean it.” You raise a sculpted brow at him and turn without saying a word. “Amo-”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Tommie! Do you understand, Mr. O’Hara? Tommie. Not Amor, not mi corazón. None of those nicknames. You don’t get that privilege after what you fucking did.” You snap at him, causing Miguel to flinch.

“I’m sorry. But I can explain.” You roll your eyes at him and you march to your apartment with Milo tucked in your arms.

You go to slam the door but Miguel stops it and you go to snap at him but he raises his hands to show he means no harm. Instead of arguing, you tell him to close the door before Milo gets out again.

He does what he’s told and you place Milo down on the floor in front of you. He jumps down and he circles Miguel. “Hola niño pequeño. How are you?” Miguel says as he scoops Milo up in his arms.

“Milo isn’t friendly. He loves to scratch, especially at peoples eyes.” You tell Miguel. Milo, the little traitor licks Miguel’s nose and stands on his shoulder.

You narrow your eyes at the cute little monster. “You sleep on the couch tonight.” He gives a cute meow and Miguel picks him up and rubs his belly as Milo goes to lick his fingers. “Your mom is mad at me, do you think you can help me out?”

“First things first, you talking to my roommate kitten isn’t going to get you off of the hook, Mr. O’Hara. He is in the apartment, you can leave.”

You turn away from him and get your pizza and garlic knots. “That smells good, are you and Milo going to eat that?” Miguel asks as he leans against the wall and holds Milo close. You see him from the corner of your eye and you keep the scowl on your face.

“You get one small tiny slice, a glass of tap water and a crumb of my garlic knots. After that you take your crack back to your place.” You say as you motion him to follow you into the kitchen.

He places Milo down and he watches you as you grab two plates from the cabinets. “We wash our hands in this apartment, Mr. O’Hara.” You announce to him. “Yes, Ma’am.” Miguel stands up and as you wash your hands, you pass the soap to him. He takes it, as his fingers brush against yours. Those fingers that have touched you. Those fingers that have been on your mind, those fingers that you’ve been tempted to taste.

You clear your throat and you give him a slice. “I’m sorry about leaving like that. I was an ass and if I were you I wouldn’t talk to me ever again either.”

“So I shouldn’t talk to you? Got it.” You say stubbornly. He sighs and you feel a bit bad for making this difficult for him. But he deserved it…a little. “Am-Tommie. If it helps, I’ve been miserable for not talking to you.”

“You have my number, Miguel you could’ve texted me.”

“The phone works both ways, Tommie.” He says as he accepts the pizza from you. You turn away from him because deep down, you’re actually happy that he’s here. In fact this has been the happiest you’ve been in past two weeks.

You grab a pitcher of ice tea and grab two glasses. “Would you like some ice?” You ask as you place the glasses down on the counter. “I thought you were giving me tap water.” He says with a smirk playing across his lips.

“I can give you tap water if that’s what you want, Miguel.” You grab the glass but he gets a hold of your wrist and he gives you a look that says he’s sorry. “Yes, I’ll have ice.” He says as he uses his thumb to rub your inner wrist.

You stand there longer than necessary and just look into his eyes. Why does this all feel so familiar? You go to speak but the glass knocks out of your hand and you expect to hear a crash. But it never comes because Miguel had caught it effortlessly.

He placed the glass on the counter and you gently take your wrist back. “How many would you like?” You ask as you open the freezer door and try to crack the ice cube tray.

You turn and he was right there. “Here let me.” He takes the tray from you and he cracks it. He takes a small piece and he brings it to your lips. It’s an action you’ve done since you were a child.

Whenever you cracked some ice, you would take the smaller pieces and you’d chew on it. You take it from him and he turns away from you, placing ice in both of the glasses.

“How did he…” You whisper as you suck the ice. You walk over and you pour the ice tea in both of the glasses. You two sit down on the stools and as you eat you pass him the chili pepper flakes. “Gracias, mi amor.”

“You’re welcome.” You say as he shakes some flakes onto his pizza. You take a big bite and you hear Miguel cough from the flakes. “Are you sure you’re part Latino? Can’t even handle pepper flakes.” You tease as you reach over and bite his slice. “Hey, that’s mine.” He says with a laugh.

“Well consider me getting my pouring your tea fee.” You joke. “Then what do I get for cracking the ice for you?” He asks as he leans in close to you. “What do you want?” You ask as you take a sip of your tea.

“I think you know what I want, Tommie.” His eyes travels over your body and you feel warm all over and secretly happy you’re not wearing your ratty robe. “Oh I don’t think that’s equal value, Miguel.” He licks his fingers and you can’t help but think of something else you could be sucking.

“I don’t know, that ice was pretty hard to crack. Maybe I can crack something else for you though.” Miguel says as he places a heavy hand on your bare thigh. He squeezes it and you suck your bottom lip.

“Mmm, don’t go sucking that bottom lip, amor.” You release your lip and pout. “Then what should I do with it?” You ask as you open your legs and feel his thumb rubbing your inner thigh. “Let me suck it for you. You know I do love sucking your lips, mostly these.” His hand travels up your thigh and you let out a moan.

Miguel leans in to kiss you but you jump back. “No, no, no. Not like this. We’re staring over and we’re going to start over as friends.” You close your legs and scoot your chair back from him.

“As friends. Good.” Miguel says as he keeps eyeing you like a hungry dog. “Yes, friends. So how was your day?” You ask as you bounce your leg. “It was miserable in the beginning, all because I mistreated my friend.”

“Oh! Well I hope you groveled and got on your knees to get her forgiveness.” You say as you continue to bounce your leg. “I don’t mind groveling. But I do know she loves when I’m on my knees.” The swallow you made was definitely loud enough for Miguel to hear.

You look at him and Miguel was no longer touching his food, instead he was standing up and letting his chair scrape across the floor. “If you want to be friends, then that’s fine. But I don’t want to be friends. I want you, and I’ll never leave the way I did, Tommie. Now I don’t know about you but I’ve been thinking about the taste of your pussy for the past two weeks and to know the only thing stopping me is your consent and those shorts is making me a bit crazy. So do I have your consent? If no then I’ll unders-”

“Miguel shut up and fuck me.” When you give him the green light he pounces and he lets his chair fall on the floor as he pulls you in.

He lifts you up and he pins you against the refrigerator. He kisses your lips and your hands work on getting his shirt off. “Mmm, Tommie where is your bedroom?” He asks as he sucks your bottom lip. “Down….the hall.” He cups your ass under your shorts and starts walking out of the kitchen. You manage to get his shirt off and you toss it. As you walk pass you grab your glass of ice and Miguel kisses your lips again, twirling his tongue with yours. You suck it and you grab the wall. “That way.” You tell him.

He kicks your door open and then kicks it shut once he’s inside. Miguel places you down on your feet and he looks down at you. “Eres tan hermosa.” He goes to kiss you but you press your fingers against his lips. “I need you to take off these jeans, and take off these boxers.” You tell him as you take a piece of ice into your mouth.

He doesn’t say a word, he simply just does what you’ve asked of him and he stood there like a chiseled stoned god. You press your hand against his taught stomach and he sits down on your bed causing it to creak.

You lower yourself onto your knees and press his thighs apart. He leans down and he kisses you, sucking and biting at your bottom lip as he reaches under your t shirt, massaging your right breast.

You break the kiss first and you grab another piece of ice. “You know, if I would've known you were just down the hall from me, I would’ve invited you over sooner. And we could’ve done this." You press the ice cube against the head of his dick and you watch Miguel’s eyes flutter closed.

“I’ll…remember that when I need a cup of sugar, mi corazón.” He lets out a soft moan and you grip him in your hand. God he was huge, how was this going to fit in your mouth? Let alone inside of you?

You needed at least two hands to hold him properly. So you popped the ice into your mouth, took him in both of your hand and you rolled the ice with your tongue over the tip.

You let the head and the ice past your lips and you suck slowly so you can get use to the size. “Una chica tan buena para mí. My good girl.” You look up at him and see his eyes full of lust. You then suck a bit faster, letting the ice melt away and Miguel lets out a whimper.

You decide to take him in your throat and you feel the tickle in your throat. The gag reflex. But you push past it and Miguel runs his fingers through your hair. “Mine, all fucking mine.” He says as he caresses your face.

You slowly start to bob your head up and down which causes pre to leak from Miguel. You taste it and he shutters. “Amor, amor you don’t have to do…th…that.” You were sucking and using your tongue at the same time which was starting to cause your throat to get tighter.

You don’t answer him, you just keep going. Keep sucking. You see he’s breathing heavy and he tries to move you off but you pin his arms down. Which was ridiculous because you knew he was the stronger one.

Then again maybe he’s weak around you.

He whines about how good your throat feels on the tip and he keeps still so he doesn’t hurt you. You look up into his eyes and you see the lust and want. You try to deep throat him but you feel yourself about to choke. “S…stop. Stop Tommie. Don’t hurt yourself.” Miguel moves you back and you have drool down your chin.

“But I want more, I want you to fuck my throat.” You say staring down at his hard thick dick. “I know, but baby next time. We have all the time in the world. Come here.” He helps you off of your knees and he sits you on his lap.

You spread your legs and his dick was pressed against the front of your shorts. “You feel that?” He presses it up harder against you and you let your head fall back and moan. “Yes, I do.”

“You want this inside of this little pussy don’t you?” You nod, looking into his ruby eyes. “I don’t think you do, amor. I think it’s too big for you to handle.”

You pout and caress his cheek. “I want you, I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me till I can’t stand. Miguel please.” You beg as you flick your tongue out against his puffy bottom lip.

“Esa boca tuya...it’s gonna get you in trouble.” He says as he sucks your tongue. You moan and flick your tongue against his teeth. “I think my mouth is worth the trouble.” You say to him. You feel his hands grip your thighs and that’s when you hear your shorts rip. You don’t even both to look down, you can feel that he has it positioned right against you.

He slaps the head against the head of your clit and you let out a moan. “Relax for me, Tommie. I want this to feel good. Let me help you feel good.” You nod and as he slides his dick in you, your mouth forms a big O and you grip his forearms.

He hisses and moans how tight you are against your neck. He thrusts in slowly and you rest your body against him. He picks up his pace a little and turns your head so that he can kiss you.

“Does this hurt? Please let me know if I’m hurting you.” You shake your head. “Issgood.” You moan out as you take his hand and bring it to your clit. He rubs it slowly as he thrust in a bit faster.

“God I could fuck you for hours, mi princesa.” He continues to rub your clit as he grips your waist with the other hand. You were in heaven right now, getting your pussy filled while inhaling this man scent. You were in such lust, your legs were aching.

His thrusts start to get animalistic and you can feel his teeth starting to scrape gently across your brown skin.

You lean your head back against his shoulder and you moan out the first thing that comes to mind. “Do it…I want you to.” Miguel’s breathing starts to become heavy and his grip on you feels as if it’s going to leave bruises.

“Whatever you want, amor. I’ll do it. Whatever you want.” His voice sounds harsh and his starts to rub you slower as he thrusts faster, which makes your body start to shake. “Bite me…please bite me.” You moan out as your eyes roll back from him fucking you like a rag doll.

He lets go of your waist and he grips your shoulder. You feel the sharp pain for only a second and you feel not just his fang like teeth biting down on your shoulder, but you feel him coming deep inside of you. You groan out a few words in gibberish and you come hard.

You feel him let go and your body feels weak against him. He leans his head against your back as you feel warm liquid roll down your breasts. When you finally feel some strength enter your body you see four bite marks on your shoulder.

Before you can open your mouth, Miguel licks it clean and he slides out of you. You wince and he places you on the bed. From his body language you can tell he was going to bolt.

And you were right he stands up abruptly and he was about to leave but you grab his hand. “Stop. Don’t you dare leave me again.” You say in a command you didn’t know you could muster.

“It’ll be wise for you to let go, amor.” Miguel says in a strange tone. “I’ll let go when I know your aren’t going to leave me…” His shoulders were tense and you stand up trying to look Miguel in the eyes. But he turned his face.

“Miguel look at me.” You say to him. He looks away and this time you reach up and grab a hold of his face. “Look at me, please.” Your voice cracks and he looks down at you.

He had the same face you saw back from the club only this time he looked vulnerable. Your grip on him loosens and you give a gentle smile. “You are so pretty.” You tell him.

He bursts out laugh and you see his four fangs in the moonlight. His laugh was contagious because your started laughing as well. “You, are so odd, amor.” Miguel says as he wipes the corner of his eyes.

“Well I’m sorry I had to say the first thing that came to mind and you look pretty.” Miguel rolls his eyes. “I’m a man, I’m not meant to be pretty.”

You place your hands on your hips. “Well to me you are pretty, Miguel O’Hara.” You smile at him and you take a step forward. Carefully because you don’t know if he still might leave.

“May I?” You ask as you reach up. You can see the hesitation in his face and you reach back. “You don’t have t-” He takes your hands and places them on his face. He slowly opens his mouth and he shows you his teeth. You don’t say a word. Instead you rub your fingers against his four fangs. They feel sharp and they should scare you, but oddly enough you like them.

“Does that mean I’m going to turn into a vampire?” You finally ask. He gets a hold of your hands and he kisses each finger. “No mi corazón, you won’t turn into a vampire, because I am not one.”

“Then what are you?”

“Oh I’m something much worse than that.” You furrow your brows trying to get an answer out of him but he isn’t budging. “Does it hurt? Your fangs?” He shakes his head. “Are you hurt? I didn’t mean to bite you that hard. I was kind of lost in the moment.”

You feel your face get hot as you shake your head. “No, it…felt good.” He crouched down and and study’s your face. “Are you hurt down there?” He asks. You look down at your feet and shake your head again. “No, that felt good too. Could we?”

Miguel laughs again and holds a hand over his stomach. “Of course you’d want to have sex again. And I want to but right now, I’m…a little too excited in another sense. And you look tired.”

“No I’m not.” You yawn and you hate that your body betrayed you. “Come, come. Let’s get you into bed.” He leads you to your bed and helps you in.

“But I have more questions.” You tell him. “I know you do, and I’ll have answers for you in the morning.” He leans down and kisses your forehead and before he leans back you grab his arm. “Miguel…I forgive you.” You tell him.

He gives you a warm smile. “Thank you.” He says as he searches your eyes. “W…will you be there when I wake up?” You ask, not wanting him to leave. Because maybe this is a dream and if it is, you didn’t want to wake up.

“I’ll stay the night. Now give me a second.” You let him go and he looks around the room. He finds his boxers and you watch as he puts them on. He leaves the room for about ten minutes and when he comes back. He hands you a glass of water and he crawls under the covers and lays beside you.

“Is this better?” He asks as you take a sip of water and place the glass on your nightstand. You nod and curl up close to him. You place your hand against his bare chest and maybe it’s the trick of the light or maybe you’re just tired. But you see a ring on your finger as you look at your hand.

You blink and the ring was no longer there. “Night, Miguel.” You whisper as your body relaxes. “Good night, mi amor.” Miguel says as he pulls you close to his body.

The last thing you think of is if this is a dream, you just didn’t want to wake up…

Previous , Next

[seungmoonandstars]

Thoughts on how you think it went when Seungmin discovered he likes bwing called 'puppy' intimatly?

Say it again...please

Kim Seungmin/female reader

wc: 1.3k

rating: explicit/18+ ✴

comments: hopefully you don't mind this written as a oneshot! Please let me know if you'd like a fluffier version, though

⋆˚☆˖°

Seungmin rolls over in bed and faces you. It's dark, and he's looking at his phone, so it's casting a harsh light on his face. He's smiling at something.

"Why are you still up?" You ask, then look at your own phone. It's almost 2 in the morning. Both of you went to bed late, but it feels like you've been asleep for hours.

"Why are you still up?"

"I was asleep. You must have woken me up rolling around over there."

"I wasn't rolling around!" He sets his phone down on the bed, “I can’t sleep.” He puts on his best pout, but you can never tell if he’s playing around or if it’s real. He cries wolf too much. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m never mean to you.”

Seungmin narrows his eyes at you and licks his lips. He scoots a little closer. Now there’s only enough space between you to breath. But he doesn’t do anything yet—just stares at you for a long moment.

“I’m tired and I can’t relax,” he coos, finally, and you can see the tiny disturbance under the blanket, and you can hear the sound of his hand moving to you. His fingers find your hip and grab, knead deeply. It makes you jump and he laughs. “Did that hurt?”

He keeps doing it, though. His hand slides down your thigh and grabs the softest part.

You shake your head. “Are you gonna make me work?”

Now Seungmin shakes his head, and it turns to a nod. His eyes are big and soft, and he’s still pouting at you. The warmth of his hand is on your inner thigh, moving up, squeezing; fingers spread roughly across your cunt and make you jump again “Pleeaase.” He whispers.

He smiles when you whisper his name.

“Minnie what?” His touch softens, and then it’s gone. You can hear it snaking back to his side. “Baby?”

“Talk about being mean.” You lift yourself and throw the blankets away from him, “giving me those eyes and that pout…that’s mean.”

The look of satisfaction on his face—his big smile, eyes squeezed shut—as you straddle him makes up for his manipulation, but you won’t tell him that. You reach down and run a hand across his thigh, and you can tell he’s hard. His cock is pushing against his briefs, desperate to be freed.

“Don’t tease.” The soft, anguished look on his face is his specialty. His hips buck up to make contact, and his eyes light up when you give him a little moan.

“So cute,” you lean forward and kiss down the side of his face before taking him in your hand.

The fabric between his cock and your hand is killing him. He tries to cry and protest, but your mouth is on his, keeping him quiet. His knees bend and his feet are flat on the bed as he lifts himself up, trying to make as much friction as possible.

“Okay okay…” you say into his mouth.

He opens his eyes and pushes his nose against yours until you’re looking directly at him. He whines.

“Okay baby…” you leave him there, crawl down until you can hook your fingers under his briefs, and yank them down.

Seungmin moans when he’s finally free.

When he reaches for his cock, you grab his wrist. You can tell he’s aching to be touched. “Relax, puppy. Your job is to look cute.”

“Hmm?” He bucks his hips and squirms when you run the same hand up his thigh. “What did you call me?”

You don’t answer—now you’re busy getting yourself out of your underwear. He watches you crawl back, place your knees on either side of him. He can’t help but grab you—squeeze the soft skin on your hips. He pulls you down a little and you let him do it. The head of his cock is touching you, just barely.

“Say it again...please.” His eyes grow even bigger. They somehow sparkle back at you in the dark.

“Say what again, puppy?”

He smiles and pushes up until you slide over his length, and it gets a soft sound out of you. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re soaking wet, and now he knows it.

“Am I your little puppy?” He pokes his tongue out and licks his lips.

“Yeah, my horny little puppy. You like that? Do you like begging for it?”

“No…” he whines again. “Don’t make me beg, baby.”

“Those big sad eyes are telling me you like it.”

One hand drops from your hip, and a moment later, his head is pushing in. And he slides in so smoothly, you have no choice but to just let it happen.

Seungmin grips you again and slams himself into you, over and over until you fall forward, palms open on his chest. He pulls you down to meet each thrust, and the sound of skin on skin as he fucks you fills the entire room.

“Does that feel good?” You breath out between thrusts.

He nods and smiles sweetly, “you’re so—” he moans and tiny laugh sneaks out. “…wet.”

You are. You can feel the mess you’re making on him every time your bodies meet.

He groans and slows himself down, but he doesn’t stop yet. The room goes quiet, save for the ragged breaths coming from both of you. Seungmin’s arms fall to his sides, leaving you alone to move slowly up and down on him.

“What’s wrong, pup, did you go a little too hard?” You roll your hips to get a rise out of him, “you gonna come already?”

Seungmin whines dramatically and reaches up to grab the pillow. He squirms and lifts himself, very lazily, to feel you when you purposely slow yourself down.

“Yeah, if you keep calling me that.”

“Puppy?”

He smiles, moves his hips again.

“You’re so cute,” you lean forward and kiss a few spots on his chest. “Stop it.”

“No.”

He grips you again and sends you forward with the force behind his thrusts. Fingernails are digging in, and you know he’s going to leave marks—maybe a bruise in the morning. It feels like he’s trying split you in half, but when you look down at him, his face is calm and sweet—he’s flushed, but he hasn’t broken a sweat.

“Minnie,” you cry out, but you can barely find your breath now. “Min—”

“Who?” He releases you from the grip of his fingers, but slides his hand up your sides.

“Puppy…puppy,” you whine.

“Is puppy gonna make you come?”

You nod. The pressure is getting to be too much already. You’re full of him—too full, and too stretched out around his size. He’s hitting you exactly where you need it.

He picks up his pace and fucks relentlessly. Seungmin takes the control away from you every time, and sometimes you don’t know how he does it. The other times, it’s just you purposely teasing until he can’t take it anymore.

Seungmin watches you take every inch. His grip on your waist tightens, and he’s pushing you down hard, slowing down for a moment just to watch you swallow him over and over again. But he can’t handle it anymore. His stomach muscles flex, he speeds up.

“I’m gonna…,” he says, eyes half closed, dark with lust. His lips are red and swollen from his licking and biting.

Before he can say it, he feels you tighten around him, and he knows you beat him there. He lets go as you squeeze tight around him. You feel it, he keeps pumping himself into you, slowly and carefully. And a moment later, his come is running out of you and making even more of a mess.

His body is tense and you know his orgasm is still working its way through him. It’s lasting much longer than yours. Lucky for him.

Eventually, his body relaxes. His face softens again, and a satisfied smile creeps across his face.

“That was fast,” you come down and kiss him on the lips, “…puppy.” You whisper the last part.

“Yes, and very nice,” Seungmin says it sweetly into your neck, kisses, sighs against your skin, and growls softly.

[milf-murdock]

I See Red (Part 2)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

Read part 1 here

Summary: A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost?   Warnings: allusions to cheating, manhandling (I mean, there’s just so much man to handle…oh and also he throws reader over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes), angst, fluff, fluff, fluff, illusions to smut at the end but nothing specific (womp womp I knoooow) A/N: The happy ending Simon deserves after such a frightful misunderstanding. Poor bb is having such a rough day :(

Simon finds you pacing your room, footsteps leaving a veritable trail as you strut from end to end in the confined space. 

One of the benefits to being a high-ranking member on an elite task force? You get your own room. It’s not much,  barely enough room for a simple cot and a few tactical furniture pieces for storage, but it’s private. And right now, you’re quite thankful for the privacy, not wanting all of your business to be aired out in front of the whole squad. 

“How could you, Simon?” Your hurt is palpable, and Simon’s heart constricts at the sound. He never wanted to be the reason for your pain. 

“Listen, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Simon starts before you interrupt him. 

“No??” You scoff. “So she wasn’t kissing you? She didn’t have your mask up? She hasn’t been flirting with you nonstop over the last two fucking weeks then?” You rattled off each allegation, your volume increasing with every accusation you spit at him. 

Despite your best attempts to prevent it, you feel the tell-tale prickling sensation of tears forming in your eyes. You will them to stay put. The last thing you want is to look even more pitiful and pathetic than you already feel. 

Simon’s chest aches as he sees the tears glisten in your eyes, a culmination of your hurt. He pulls his mask off over his head, hoping you can see the sincerity in his face. 

“It wasn’t like that,” he tries to explain. “She kissed me. I would never do that you, sweetheart.” 

“So I’m supposed to believe that you don’t care about gorgeous, voluptuous women with beautiful red hair who fawn over your every move?” Your gaze hardens as you hurl the accusation at his feet. 

Simon is at a loss or words. He hadn’t given Bex a second thought once she showed up. Hadn’t thought anything more than that she must be good at her job for Price to have brought her on board. 

The sea of confusion threatens to overwhelm Simon as he struggles to keep his head above water. Throw him on a high stakes mission anytime—hell, throw him directly into enemy combat over this. His head is spinning. How did all of this happen?  First, the kiss from hell that came out of nowhere, then this wave of jealousy from you. Simon makes the connection as soon as the thoughts flow through his mind. This has to have been the root of your foul mood over the last two weeks, the reason behind your snarky comments and bitter conversations. 

Misinterpreting his stunned silence, you let out a bitter laugh. “I thought so. You know what? Fuck this. I don’t need this. Just…” you inhale sharply. “Just go back to her.” 

A lead weight drops into Simon’s stomach. “No.” The word is barely more than a whisper. He feels like the floor is being yanked out from under him. His world is spinning. No. He thinks to himself. Not you. He can’t lose you. 

He closes the space between you in two strides, hands curling around your wrists in desperation, eyes pleading. “Listen. To. Me.” His staccato words are accentuated with his firm, but gentle, grip. “Please.” 

You avoid his eyes, knowing those deep chocolate orbs would have you folding in an instant. 

“No,” you spit out. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

You tug yourself free from his grasp and turn to the door, ripping it open and stepping into the cold air. 

Like hell was Ghost going to let you walk away from this. 

You make it all of five steps from the door in the time it takes Ghost to come to his senses and high tail it after you. Without another thought, he reaches forward and grabs both your legs right out from under you, hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“Ghost!” You shriek, unable to hold back your shock. A laugh bubbles up from inside you at the pure absurdity of the movement. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Making you fucking listen for once in your life,” Ghost grunts as he hauls you back into the room, tossing you onto your bed. 

The mattress sinks beneath his weight as he sits next to you, his face taking on a serious expression. He reaches for your hands, his own mammoth hands swallowing yours whole. The motion sobers you, all humor from the previous moments erased. 

“Ya know I’m not one for speeches, but I’ve got something important to say. And you’re going to bloody listen, got it?” 

He takes your silence as approval to keep going. 

“I swear to you, I didn’t kiss her, alright? She pulled up my mask and kissed me before I could even register what was happening. You have to believe me—I would never do that to you.  I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you like that.” He swallows hard as it dawns on him just how close he came to that being his reality. He fears he almost lost you for good.

“And to answer your question from earlier, no. I’ve never thought of her like that. Not once. I haven’t thought of anyone else like that. Not since I first saw you all those years ago. You remember?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, Simon. It was like three years ago.”

“Not to me. To me, it feels like it was yesterday. When I saw you hop off that helo, I knew I was done in. Fucking hell, I said. From the moment I saw your face, I was a goner.” 

His hands drop your own as he reaches up to cup your face. You say nothing, but you don’t pull away from him either. And for Ghost, that’s enough. 

“You mean everything to me. Everything. I trust you with my life on the battle field. I trust you with my innermost thoughts and feelings in here, when it’s just you and me. Can’t you trust me in the same way?” 

A feeling of shame washes over you and you lower your gaze. The realization dawns on you, you hadn’t even given him a chance to explain. Remorse pools in your gut. 

“How could I possibly be thinking of another woman, when I spent every waking minute of my day thinking about you, thinking about us, thinking about our future together?”

At that, your eyes glance up to meet his. “A future?” 

The corner of Simon’s mouth tugs upwards in a coy smile. “Well, yeah. If that’s the kind of thing you want.” 

You sigh deeply, feeling every last ounce of fight drain from your body. 

“I’m so sorry, Si,” you whisper in the space between your bodies. “I should have given you a chance to explain.”

Simon doesn’t have words to explain the relief that floods his body as you lean forward, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to him. 

“S’okay,” he mutters. “If I had walked in on some bloke kissing you, I’d be snapping his neck before asking a single question from you.” 

At that, you chuckle against his broad chest. “Well, that makes me feel better about my reaction then.” You pull back only slightly to offer him a soft smile. “I really am sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Simon presses his lips to your temple and savors the moment before adding, “Besides, I like seeing your jealous side. It’s kinda hot.” 

“Oh yeah?” You tease, sitting up and popping one leg over Simon’s lap to straddle him. “How hot?” 

“Fucking hell woman,” Simon groans with a playful roll of his eyes. “You’ll be the fucking death of me.” 

“S’that so?” You shamelessly plant open mouthed kisses along his chiseled jaw, down his exposed throat. With fluid, practiced movements, you slide off the bed and come to your knees in front of him. “Least you’ll die a happy man,” you smirk before unbuttoning his trousers and showing Simon just how well and truly sorry you are. 

Epilogue(ish):

Bex is on the first flight out the next day. The laptop was decrypted and the short-term mission accomplished, so there’s really no reason for her to stay any longer. And, of course, there’s the lingering threat of potentially losing some beloved limbs at the hands of one furious Ghost. On top of that, Bex isn’t entirely positive that you won’t come seek your own type of revenge for touching what clearly, definitively belongs to you. And she quite likes the idea of staying alive. 

Masterlist ✧ Ask Box

Requested tags for Part 2: @infpt-zylith @nobilitando @lazystorycollector @141trash @thychuvaluswife @bakugohoex@kiryoutann @persephone-kore-law @whos-fran

[saintkiri]

summary: you felt numb after eren walked through your apartment door. you thought you would never find love again..well..eren wasn’t love. it was everything BUT love. he used you and ended up cheating. you have so many questions that you know you’ll never get the answer to. after a night out drinking with friends..you ended up finding love just outside the door where you watched eren leave.

content warnings: cheating, smut (begging, multiple orgasms, spanking, unprotective sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare) toxic!eren, mentions of therapy, praying to God, anxiety, throw up (?). if i miss anything, lmk :)

wc: 5.6k

author note: …so it’s been 2 years since I’ve actually written and posted something. I meant to post this almost 2 years ago & I promised you guys I would post it & I never did. but, life was crazy and I am still adjusting. Anywhos, don’t expect much from me writing. I am glad to be back even tho I’m not 😭

part one (pls read so this can make sense)

taglist | aot masterlist

When Eren walked past that door, you felt like you lost a piece of you. The last thing he told you made you feel even more stupider than you have ever felt. 

‘The moment I laid my eyes on her, I stopped loving you.’

That sentence kept repeating over and over again. 

You closed the door, and fell. Your back sliding against the door until you were sitting on the ground waiting for the tears to come. But, they never did. You were so numb and shocked, that you couldn’t shed a single tear. 

Your life and emotions relied on him. He made you feel everything you craved. 

It didn’t make sense. He stopped loving you the moment he laid his eyes on someone else. 

What made her so perfect? 

Eren would always made comments saying that you were the girl of his dreams. How could he say all the right things just to cheat? 

You lost track of time, you sat against the door in silence, watching the apartment go from dark to light. You were so numb, you couldn’t sleep. It felt like he drained every emotion out of you with a sentence. All it took was one sentence to change you. 

The memories of you and him kept running pass your thoughts. As you watched time go by, it was as if the ghost of you and him were running through the apartment. It hurt. You remembered all the laughs, all the times where he made your heart feel so warm and full. 

But now, how can your heart go from that feeling over never ending lust to feeling cold and empty?

~~

It’s been about six months since Eren. It’s been hard to say the least. For the first month, you couldn’t even recognize yourself. You couldn’t stop thinking about him all day. It was always either you replaying his last words to you, replaying the argument, or all the times you should have realized he was cheating on you. 

Slowly, you grew. It took you a while to get back up on your feet. It took you a while to get used to a life without him. You never really realized how much you relied on him. Your friends helped you move on and get back to your life. 

You would gradually throw away Eren’s stuff during the first three months. First, it was the pictures and little momentums. You burned and threw out all the polaroids, all the gum wrapper hearts he would make, all the receipts, and every physical memory. It was weird because when you and Eren broke up, you would randomly find those hearts wherever around the apartment. You would keep them in a jar on your dresser, and slowly throughout the relationship, the jar kept getting filled to the point where you needed a new one. After the breakup, when you would find one, you would throw it out. 

Every time you threw one out, a little piece of your heart went with it and you couldn’t explain why. 

The day you finally decided to move on hurt you just as bad as the day Eren and you broke up. You were burning away not only the bad memories but the core memories. The polaroid picture from your first kiss, the rose he got you for your first date, the first movie ticket. Every single physical memory was being turned to ash. Jean and Mikasa helped you light the match and watched everything burn with you. You didn’t cry at first, and you didn’t start crying until they both left. 

You closed the door, thanking them for being there for you..and for pushing you to move on. Although your heart was breaking, you still managed to smile. As soon as the door closed, you were back at the same position you were six months ago. Your back against the door, still somehow wishing that this was just some sick joke. 

Tears were running down your face. You would wipe them just for there to be more. You sobbed in the same position. At this point, it felt like a routine. You would try your hardest to get over Eren, no matter what you would do to get over him, the memories haunt you. 

Slowly, you stopped crying. You don’t know how long you sat there, it could have been minutes or hours. You eventually stood up, then you walked to your kitchen as if nothing happened. The first thing you grabbed was to go to your cabinet to get a glass when suddenly you heard someone talking on the phone outside of your apartment. The voice sounded familiar, it was deep yet somehow smooth. 

You put down the glass and walked back to the door. You then looked out of the peephole to see Jean sitting on the ground across from your apartment. Your eyes widened slightly, wondering why he was there. You opened the door, seeing Jean’s facial expressions. He looked tired, concerned, mad, everything you were feeling right now. 

“Jean?” You say softly, while you were watching Jean slowly get up. He walked towards your door not saying much. But yet, the silence says it all. “H-How long were you sitting there for?” You opened the door some more to let him in. “Just long enough so I know you stopped crying because of him.” Your heart dropped. 

How long has he been doing this? That was the first question that came to mind. You were having mixed emotions right now. How were you supposed to feel? Although your heart felt somewhat warm, you were also feeling untrustworthy. 

Jean walked to your dining table and leaned against it. He then crossed his arms. You walked to your kitchen, "Do you want something to drink?" It was the least you offer, especially since he was sitting outside for who knows how long. "Do you have any alcohol?" He joked, and a small chuckle left your mouth. You grabbed another glass, then walked over to your counter to grab some alcohol.

You opened the bottle, then poured some for you and Jean. You handed Jean his glass, "Why do you wait?" You asked while taking a small sip. Jean stayed quiet, most likely trying to think of an answer. There was this moment of awkward silence. 

Before you and Eren started dating, you and Jean were best friends. You and him have been friends for years, but when Eren came along, your friendship changed. Eren became possessive and toxic. He didn't like how close you were with Jean. So eventually, you stopped talking to Jean. 

But, when you and Eren broke up, Jean came running to be right by your side. Although you and Jean stopped talking, Jean never stopped wanting to protect you, he never stopped watching over you, and never stopped loving you even after seeing you with another man. 

Jean has had feelings for you since he met you. There's always been this little spark between the both of you. Eventually, that spark grew to be something more. He always tried to protect you. He would try to tell you what Eren was doing behind your back but you wouldn't listen to him in fear of Eren seeing you two together. 

"I wait because I'm worried, y/n." 

"Why are you worried, Jean?"

Jean took another sip of his liquid courage and walked towards you. You walked backward until you reached the counter. "Because you were crying over a man who didn't deserve you." Jean softly confessed. Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, your eyes locked with Jean's hazel eyes. His expression was gentle with a mix of protectiveness..and a mix of love. "Then who deserves me?" You responded, feeling a rush of emotions come over you. 

Your heart started racing as Jean leaned in closer to you. Was it the alcohol? Was it the fact that Jean is right about you getting over Eren? 

Jean's hands were placed on top of the counter, cornering you. His right hand found its way to your hip. His lips inched towards yours, “You deserve someone who takes your breath away every time you look at him. Someone who makes you laugh, smile, feel every emotion that Eren didn’t.” Your eyes lock with his, feeling his breath against your lips. “I-I’t’s you..” You whisperingly confessed. Suddenly, he kissed you with passion, feeling sparks fly. Your noses bumped into each other as little giggles left your mouths. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. His lips tasting like the alcohol you were just drinking a moment ago. Your lips move with his, for the first time in what felt like months, this was the kiss you've been dreaming of. The kiss that makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, the kiss that makes time go by slowly, the kiss that makes all the others seem non-existent. 

You felt Jean's hands pick you up and place you on the counter, "Are you drunk?" You asked as his lips found their way to your neck, gently kissing and leaving hickeys. Jean stopped his movement, as a small smile spread on his face. The smile you missed, the smile you practically dreamt of, the smile that never failed to make you smile. "No." He answered, as he slowly dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, "Are you?" He asked in return, you nodded, not knowing how to respond. 

Jean's free hand moved towards your buttoned pants, "No answer?" He asked with a sly smirk on his face. Your mind went blank. His fingers played with the button as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I'm going to ask one last time, y/n. Are you drunk?" You coughed out a response, "N-No. No, I'm not, Jean." A laugh left his mouth. 

"Good, because I don’t want our first time to be while you're drunk." He whispered again. Just like that, his lips were on yours. This time, that once soft kiss was now a kiss full of meaning. You don't know what came over yourself...and right now you weren't thinking about that. You were thinking about how soft his lips were, how his lips were on yours, and how you felt at that moment. 

Jean picked you off the counter, and for a moment, all emotions that you had left for Eren had left your mind and all you can think about was Jean. 

That kiss made you realize one thing. 

It's always been...him. 

It's always been Jean since the first day you laid your eyes on him. You were blinded by Eren. You were blinded by the fact that a very popular guy finally chose you. You were wrong..and now you want to spend the rest of your life making it up to Jean. 

As he walked into your bedroom, your legs were wrapped around Jean's waist. He gently placed you on the bed, his lips finally leaving yours for a split second, "Finally, you're mine." You could cry with pure happiness. It was the happiness you never felt with Eren..but only with him. 

You gave him a small and gentle peck, whispering softly, "Finally." You both smiled as you went back to kissing. His lips never left yours. If they did leave yours, they would end up moving and peppering kisses on your neck, as he slowly ripped away each item of clothing off of your body. 

The tip of his index finger teased the top of your panties. You roll your hips, "J-Jean.." You moaned out softly, hoping he would get the hint. A sly smile grew on his face, chuckling slightly at how much you were begging for him. "God, y/n." He whispers in your ear as his lips move at a slow rate.

His fingers inch more and more towards where you wanted him to touch you most. You were getting impatient, all you wanted was to feel him. You moved your hands when suddenly Jean pinned them above your head. 

The sexual tension was so thick. As much as he wants to fuck you, he wants to take his time. 

Your eyes meet, "Please touch me, Jean." You begged. His eyes read yours, and that's when he lost all control. Fuck taking his time, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. He moved his hand from pinning yours to taking off your panties. 

It all happened so fast. One moment Jean was taking his time, devouring you inch by inch, finally getting what he's been dreaming of since he realized he had a crush on you. 

Jean moved to the edge of the bed, and in one sudden motion, your thighs were wrapped around his neck. His lips peppered kisses on your inner thighs, moving closer to your aching clit. 

He flatted his tongue and in one lick, he had you melting and moaning his name. That one moan sent him over, he wanted to hear you say it over and over again. This moment will be embedded in his brain for who knows how long. 

Your fingers brush through his brunette locks, highly tugging at the roots, "Fuck, Jean." You moaned out as Jean's tongue circled your clit, making your mind and body melt. You felt his fingers add into the mix, moving slowly, pressing against the spot that makes you lose control. 

He was in between your legs, lewd noises were the sound that was echoing in the room, pleads, begs, screams and moans.

His long, slim fingers thrust into you, making you moan louder and louder. Jean was loving the way your moans sounded. It was like music to his ears. 

Over and over again, you were chanting Jean's name. It was every time he hit that spot, you would scream his name in pleasure. 

Jean replaced his tongue with thumb and admired the view ahead of him, "God, you're so fucking hot, y/n." He said as your eyes met with his. A sly smile spread on his face while watching your reaction to his compliment. Your lip slid between your teeth, trying your hardest to hold back your moans.

He replaced his thumb back with tongue, and your head fell back onto the bed, feeling his tongue explore your cunt again.  Your hands then roamed your body, finding their place over your mouth. You then began to slightly ride his mouth.

A familiar feeling began to stir in your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your toes curled, feeling his finger movements begin to speed up. 

You were speechless, you couldn't spit out a word, it felt that good. Finally, you spit out the words, "W-Wanna cum, so-so bad." Jean sped up his movements, moving his mouth off of your core, then crawling in between your legs, moving up until you were face to face. 

His fingers didn't stop moving as he kissed you. Your moans were muffled by the kiss. "Cum on my fingers, y/n." He didn’t have to tell you twice. You came on his fingers, and instantly, your legs started shaking. 

Jean got off the bed, and you held yourself up with your elbows, watching him pull down his boxers, and your jaw instantly dropped. His dick was big, probably the biggest one you've seen. He was mesmerized by your reaction to his size. 

Your eyes locked with his as you sat up. You grabbed his arm and immediately pulled him into a kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling Jean slowly spreading your legs. 

His lips left yours for a split second, "Are you on the pill?" You nodded, "Are you clean?" You asked as his hand inching towards your aching cunt. He nodded, kissing you back in response. 

"Good, now I want you to beg for it, y/n." You smiled slightly because thought he was joking. You wanted him obviously, your body was practically begging for him. The tip of his dick teased your sensitive clit, and a quiet moan left your lips.

You lifted your hips, trying to get more out of him. Your smile disappeared when you realized he wasn't kidding, he was dead serious. You looked into his eyes, and his sparkle was gone. 

"P-Please." you said desperately. Jean raised his eyebrow, "That's all you got? C'mon, y/n. Your body is practically begging for me..." His lips inched towards yours, "But, I want to hear you beg for my cock." His words hit straight to your core. "Please, Jean. Please fuck me. I-I want you so-so much." 

Jean chuckled as he moved the tip of his dick in between your folds, “Where do you want it, princess?” He said as he kept teasing your aching cunt. You buck your hips against the tip of his cock, begging for some sort of friction. You look up and all you see is his desperate eyes on yours. “I want you to fuck me with your cock.” He chuckles, “Good girl.” he praised, and in one swift motion, he finally slid into your cunt. You both moaned. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and the bottom of your lip slid in between your teeth. 

He bottomed out, hitting the spot that made you scream his name. With each thrust, came a moan. "F-Fuck, Jean!" You said as he pounded his cock into you. 

You dug your fingers into his back, slowly moving them up, making sure to leave a mark. Jean inhaled sharply, "So fucking t-tight, y/n." Jean said as he kept bottoming out into you, hitting your g-spot over and over again. 

Jean's lips found their way to yours, the kiss was deep. It was almost like he was trying to devour you as if you were his last meal. Although the kiss was deep, it had a meaning. You were his, you belonged to him. And, you were okay with that. Jean moved his lips from your throat and then moved to his next position. He grabbed your ankles and placed them on his shoulder, hitting your g-spot at a different angle. 

He kissed your ankle as he kept pounding into you. The view in front of you looked so hot. He was hitting all the places that made your mind go blank. “Fuck.” Jean moaned. His moans made you want to exploded right then and there. He moved your legs and by habit you wrap them around this waist. 

“This pussy was made for me, y/n.” Jean expressed in the nook of your neck, peppering kisses, sucking softly. Your fingers raked through his locks, lightly tugging. “J-Jean..harder.” You begged. You wanted him to fuck you like no other could. You wanted him to make you forget about Eren. 

His thrusts slow down making you whimper. Jean flips you on your stomach, “Grab onto the headboard.” He demanded. You wrap your fingers around the cold metal bars, “Please.” You begged. Jean chuckled as you felt his dick slam into you again. You practically scream, feeling the bed shift slightly. Jean’s hands find their place in your hair. His finger wraps around your hair, making a make-shift ponytail, tugging at your roots. You moan feeling his dick hit a new spot from the new position he has you in. 

You suddenly felt a harsh slap on your ass, you wince from he pain..but, you wanted more of it. Sounds of slapping skin fill the room, “Keep milking my cock, y/n.” You clench around his cock with every thrust. 

You could feel your orgasm building up, feeling Jean’s hand leave your hair, then snaking to your clit. “You gonna’ cum, princess?” You nod, not being able to find the words. You felt another harsh slap on your ass, “Words.” He warned. Jean’s movements on your clit made your toes curl, making you moan loudly. 

“Yes, I-I need to cum..so so bad.” You felt his thrust fasten, knowing he was close too. He instantly flips you over again, feeling his lips on yours. You wrap yours around his neck, “Cum for me, princess.” That’s all it took. Your legs started trembling as your orgasm unraveled. Jean emptied his load into you, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

His lips found yours again as he pulled out. This kiss was different. This kiss felt like you were home..with him. 

Jean’s lips left yours as he got up and walked to your bathroom, leaving you absolutely speechless. You couldn’t believe that just happened..but yet, you were so glad it did. You turn your head to see Jean in the bathroom, running a washcloth under some water. 

Eren never did aftercare. He would just fuck you, and leave you hanging. Most of the time, you didn’t even finish..it was always about him finishing, his pleasure before yours, and that’s when your handy vibrator came into your life. Looks like you wouldn’t be needing that anymore with the way Jean just fucked you. 

You thought sex like this belonged in porn.

Jean walked out of the bathroom smiling, “What are you smiling about?” You questioned him as he bends your still trembling legs. He kisses the top of your knees as he cleans your most sensitive area, you wince feeling the washcloth on your clit. 

“You.” It was a simple one word..but, it made your heart melt leaving your very dirty thoughts behind. His fingers find your clit again, as that smile turned into a sly smirk. You moan, “Jean.” You warned softly, as he rubs it slowly.  His fingers slip into your hole, “Just cleaning you out.” He says, as his fingers hit your g-spot. Your hand wraps around his wrist, “Do you want me to stop?” You shaking your head, never wanting him to stop. 

He continues his movements, your legs squeezing together as his long, slim fingers continue to pump into you. You could feel your orgasm bubbling up. “Let go for me, princess.” And that’s all it took for your third orgasm to unravel, leaving you in a moaning mess. 

His fingers left your cunt as his eyes locks with yours. He licks his fingers cleaning, “Now, I’m actually going to clean you up.” A giggle leaves your mouth as you feel the washcloth sliding over your skin again. You could get used to this. 

You started thinking about life with Jean. “So, now what happens?” You ask out of curiosity. You were absolutely terrified of losing him. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Were you guys going to pretend this didn’t happen? Were you guys going to start a life together? Were you guys going to stay as friends? You had so many questions that were fueling your anxiety. 

He stops his movements, looking at you, “I said that I was never going to let you go, y/n. You’re mine.” Tears start to form in your eyes, “Losing you to Eren was my biggest mistake, I should have never let you go..I felt like I hurt you. If I would have kept pushing you, and telling you everything he was doing behind your back, I thought I would have lost you permanently.” He stands up and walks across the room, throwing the used washcloth into the hamper. Then walking towards the bed, laying next to you. He places his hand on your cheek, “I will never ever let you go..And I mean it. I will spend all this lifetime and the next proving it to you.”

As a tear escapes your eye, Jean’s thumb catches it, “Why are you crying?” And suddenly, there were more tears..too many tears for his thumb to catch. You roll over, placing your head on his chest. “I’m sorry.” You say in the midst of a broken sob, Jean doesn’t say anything, he just caresses your head and lets you cry. 

You wrap your arm around his chest, hugging him so tight, as if he was going to leave went you woke up. All this time, Jean waited for you. For all the years that you were with Eren, Jean was there waiting to help you when he left. 

The day that Eren left the apartment, you called Jean, and he ran to your apartment. You didn’t know who else to call, you wanted the one person who knew how to comfort you, your best friend. Jean helped you through all the stages of your break up. He was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, he was there when you couldn’t find yourself. And now, here he was yet again, being the shoulder you cried on. 

“It should have been you, Jean.” You said through the soft sobs, “It shouldn’t have been Eren, I should have never been with him..it was supposed to be you.” Jean kissed the top of your head, comforting you. 

Jean kisses the top of your head, as you looked up at him, “Now we can make up for lost time.” His lips inched towards yours, “Starting now.” His lips connected with yours. 

This is what loves feels like..and it’s how it should have been from he start. 

Jean is your forever.

Jean is the missing piece to your broken puzzle.

Jean is the person you prayed to God for everyday instead of Eren. 

Jean is your other half. 

____

2 YEARS LATER:

“Here’s to your last day being engaged!!” Mikasa exclaimed as she jumps into your arms. You were out for brunch with all your girlfriends, celebrating your last day being an engaged woman. You never thought this day would come. 

Jean ended up proposing a year ago..and it was so romantic. You both knew you wanted to get married. Jean wanted it to be a surprise though. He had taken you to a romantic restaurant..which would have been very cliche of him. You and him would always joke about the cliches. He knew you wanted everything but the cliches. 

He ended up getting on one knee when you least expected it. He wanted to catch you off guard. You and him were going house hunting when he proposed. You guys were looking at a house and the moment you step foot into it, you saw your life with Jean flash before your eyes. Every corner you turned, you could imagine kids running around. When you went into the kitchen, you saw family dinners..just the thought alone brought tears to your eyes. 

It was when you guys walked into the backyard when you looked Jean in the eyes and told him exactly how you felt. That was your forever home, the place where you wanted to grow old and gray with Jean, the place where you wanted to start a family..that was where your future was. You turned around for a split second and when you turn back to face Jean, he proposed. 

You didn’t even let him finish talking. You knew you wanted to marry Jean for years. Even before Eren. 

Even after a year of him proposing to you, you still think about every single word Jean said. He said the same exact thing you were thinking while walking through the house. His dream was your dream. 

The wedding was around the corner and you couldn’t wait. It was going to be a small wedding. You and Jean just wanted something simple. You both agreed that the memories were more important than the big wedding. 

As you, Mikasa, and the rest of your friends leave after drinking one too many mimosas, you accidentally bump into someone. You instantly apologize, looking up to see the man who broke you in ways you thought couldn’t be fixed. This was the actual time you bumped into him. “Y/N?” Hearing your name leave his lips sounded like poison. It’s the one voice that still haunts you. 

You started to feel sick, feeling bile rising up your throat. His eyes inched towards your taken hand. You couldn’t find words. There were so many things you wanted to say..but, it wasn’t worth your time. Jean helped you move on, he put you back together when you couldn’t find the pieces. Eren took a piece of you that you were still trying to find..even after all these years. You slowly back away, calling out his name once. 

You walk past him linking your arm with Mikasa’s, “I’m sorry.” The two words stop your movement, you turn around for a split second, feeling Mikasa giving you and encouraging squeeze. “You’re not sorry, Eren. You never were..you ruined me. Y-You used me, cheated on me, fucking tore my heart into pieces.” You walked closer to him, “You don’t get to apologize, you piece of lowlife scum, I hope you rot.” 

Before he could say another word, you turned away linking your arm with Mikasa’s. You feel good. A smile spread on your face, “You feel good, y/n?” You nod, feeling a sense of relief fuel your veins. 

You never really got closure and that was something you struggled with for the longest. You still don’t understand why he cheated on you. The countless therapy sessions helped for a short period of time. But, this is your closure. You said what you said, and you feel good. This is what you needed to open the next chapter of your life. 

As you walk into your stunning house, you were immediately greet by the newest addition to your family, Remi. She’s a french bulldog you and Jean adopted when you moved into the house. She lights up your world. You and Jean are so grateful for her. After greeting your pup, you were greeted by your fiancee. 

You give him a soft kiss, feeling his hands on your waist, instantly feeling like you’re home. “How was brunch?” A smile spread on your face as you take off your coat, “It was a lot of fun! I wish you were there though.” You said as you were taking off your heels. 

“Yeah, I wish I went too. Connie is having a late dinner later to have a pre-celebration for tomorrow.” You roll your eyes with a smile, “Make sure you don’t drink too much, Jean.” A chuckle leaves his throat, giving you another kiss on the cheek. 

As you both walk towards the kitchen, you were thinking about how to tell Jean about your interaction with Eren. 

He opens the cabinet when you broke silence, “I bumped into Eren.” 

Jean turns around, placing both of his hands on the counter, “What happened? Did he do anything?” You shake your head, as a small smile spread on your face, “I got closure, Jean. I feel good.” You went onto telling him what you said and you both ended up laughing. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. So, telling him what you said made the both of you laugh. 

“I’m proud of you, y/n.” The four words made tears run down your cheek. Yet again, even after all these years, Jean is there to catch every single tear. “I’m glad you finally got the closure you’ve been searching for.” You wrap your arms around his waist, “Me too. I feel like I can let go of that chapter of my life.” 

Tomorrow was the start of a new chapter. 

Although you know your next chapter won’t be picture perfect, you were okay with that. As long as you had Jean on your side, you knew that it would be your version of picture perfect. And, that’s all you needed. 

__

As you’re walking down the isle, you think about everything you (and Jean) have been through to get to this moment. 

In a sense, you were grateful that everything happened, because it led you here, marrying your best friend, and you couldn’t imagine life go any other way. Jean has taught you that love is real, you just have to find the right person. Life has a funny way of showing love, it’s like a road to describe it the least. 

Life and love are both bumpy roads, there’s all these bumps, cracks, unexpected turns, things that get in your way. But, once you get past that, the road is smooth and clear. 

Today, you’re marrying your soulmate, your other half, your best friend, & you couldn’t wait to finally be Mrs. Kirstein. 

Jean didn’t lie when he said you were his. Since that day, he never left your side. He was there for everything. Every doubt, every cry, everywhere you least expected him to be. 

The six words you’ve been waiting for years for finally approached, “You may now kiss the bride.” Jean kissed you like your life depended on it..just like the first time he kissed you. The kiss that makes you feel like you're on cloud nine, the kiss that makes time go by slowly, the kiss that makes all the others seem non-existent. 

“I told you, you were always mine, y/n.” He whispered against your lips. A bright smile spread on your face. It was just you and him. You zoned out the crowd, as if time was going in slow motion. You stare into his eyes and see your future. You place your thumb under his eyes, collecting the tears that he’s always done for you. 

Inching your lips towards his, feeling the same emotions as his. You whisper, “Forever and always yours.”

The end. 

🏷️: @betterwinter @moonlight445sblog @linglingisyutabiased @takspv @imaninfjbiherself @levisstainedunderwear @cafesho @Unicornlover25 @mocha-focha @Mochaxfocha @szna @yeagerfushiguro @twiixiies @haitanihime @Crazytyphoon @the-sun-baby

Finishing note: thank you so much for all the love in broken promises! It’s been two years since I posted it and it’s still one of my favorites. I am very happy with how it ended. There were some bits and pieces in here that I took from my actual life. Remi is true!! She’s my baby🫶🏻..plus some breakup scenes were from my breakup😭. Anywhos, I hope to be able to get back into writing soon :)

[gothic-thoughts]

Slow on the Internet

(idek how i found this pic of him but im SO glad this shit exists😭)

(AGED UP) Yuji Itadori x Black Fem Reader Fluff

Streamer!Yuuji, Shy!Reader, RoommateAU, Friends2Lovers

CW: oblivious Yuuji 😭😭, yuuji talking to his twitch chat, reader speaks some Japanese 🤝🏾 Yuuji speaks some English, not proofread

Word Count: 1701

any Japanese is written in Romaji and confirmed by DeepL

It was 10 pm, Itadori was sitting in his gaming headphones on his stylish armchair, playing a popular game while Spotify was quietly playing a mellow song in the background.

"Guys, the stream's gonna be a little quiet, I don't want to wake my roommate."

Itadori tried not to make too much noise, talking quietly to his audience.

- Which one?

- Is it (Y/n)??

- Megumi or the American girl you brought on a while ago?

- The girl??

 "Yes, I’m talking about (Y/n). Megumi's out for the night. Uh, for those new to stream, a couple streams ago..." Yuuji laughs into his hand, "Like 3 streams ago, I forced my roommate, (Y/n), to make a... commentary vid with me."

- You should force her back fr 👀👀

- Bring her back, yall were cute

- You guys chemistry was adorable, u sure she's just a roomie??👀👀

He laughed at the comments, a little embarrassed at the idea of having chemistry with his roommate, but it was sweet of them to think that. He shook his head and laughed, trying to brush it off as a friendly relationship.

"Shut up, it’s a normal amount of chemistry! I like to think we have a cool dynamic.”

- UR TELLING ME U DON'T LIKE HER??

- denial isn’t healthy, Itadori

- but does she want to STAY ur friend??

It was flattering how invested they were in a relationship between him and (Y/n). He wasn't sure what his chat was implying, surely they were teasing him. There was a little part of him that liked and even agreed with his chat's implications. He was glad they were taking so much interest in his friendship with (Y/n). It was sweet.

"I- what are you guys saying?" He laughed nervously, his cheeks red.

- THAT SHE LIKES U DUH

- U LIKE EACH OTHER??

- ITADORI UR FUMBLING

"You really think my roommate likes me? Really?"

- YES

- The only she could make it more obvious was if she kissed you like r u srs 😭😭

- Does she take or borrow ur stuff a bunch?

"Oh yeah, all the time." He laughed, nodding. "Like she'll use my body soap and won’t give it back unless I ask. Sometimes she'll even just take my clothes and leave them somewhere in her heya (room); sore wa wakaranai (I don't get that)."

- Bro cuz she likes u

- YUUJI WHAT

- She got it bad too. Both of u do

- AND U FRIENDZONED HER??

His heart was beginning to race a little as his chat spoke and said all these things. He laughed nervously, but he didn't deny any of their comments. He wondered if all these things actually were happening because she did have feelings for him.

"No, no I didn't... did I?"

- How do u curve a goddess BY ACCIDENT?

- Rejecting someone by accident is crazy

- She is fine asf lowkey

He shivered a little as his chat continued, making him begin to feel a little bad for keeping his feelings to himself and even stupid when realizing that he wasn’t reading her feelings correctly.

"I don't know, I mean.... it never crossed my mind that she really liked me. Maybe... but she just did small things."

He rubbed the back of his neck, not sure what to say. "I didn’t think she’d like me, I thought she was just doing it cuz she’s still fairly new to Japan. Aside from the fact that she’s out of my league."

- is it because she's older than you?

- I dont even think ur age gap is even that big smh

- how old is she anyway? U look about the same age

- Ik ur 21 but how old is (Y/n)?

"How old? She's 23, but still..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, his face red. He just didn't know what to say so he just laughed nervously. They kept describing her and it made him feel bad, thinking that he had been doing this to her, hopefully she still liked him so he could try again.

- ONLY 2 YEARS AND U STRESSIN BOUT AN AGE GAP???

- If you don't GO CONFESS LIKE AN ADULT😭😭

- Ur both young adults so age is just a number fr

- Yuuji, don't piss me off 🙄😤

Itadori couldn't help but laugh the more he read, unable to deny the comments that his chat was making. It felt like his chat had read his mind.  

"Okay okay, wakattyo (i get it)! She likes me, I might like her, age isn't an issue. What am I supposed to do though?"

- Talk to her wat 😭😭

- UH TALK TO HER??

- Ask her out duh.

He laughed and read the comments. His chat was making it so simple.

"Come on guys, it can't be that simple. I live with her! What if she doesn't feel the same and things end up being awkward?"

Itadori jumps out of his chair, his heart beating out of his chest when he hears the only other person in the house knock on his bedroom door. Shit. Of course. He then realized he had his stream on the whole time so she definitely heard everything. He got up and walked over to his door. He cracked open the door, peeking through with his cheeks still red.

“Hey, Yuu.”

"Hey... did you hear nandemo (anything)?"

"Hear what?" (Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows, "You on the phone?”

He paused and smiled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was just making sure I wasn’t being too, um, loud. I thought you were asleep.”

“I was, but I woke up wanting something sweet. I'm running to the konbini, nani ka hoshi mono wa?"

“Yeah, sure.” He paused, thinking of something, "Can you get me some ichigo pocky?"

“Honto ni? I was gonna get the same thing.”

He laughed, her answer surprised him. "Really?"

“Yea. Alright, I'll be right back."

He smiles, waiting for her to come back. He had so many thoughts, so much to process about the stuff his chat said and his own feelings for her. He waited for her to come back with the strawberry pocky.

- Well???

- Did she seem to like u??

- What she say?

“There's really no reason for me not to like her, ya know? I'm starting to think I like her back, really like her, she’s so sweet." He rubbed his neck, feeling guilty, "You guys were right, I've been rejecting her by accident. When she gets back, I want to tell her."

- YAAY

- LETSSGOOO

- THATS MY BOY

- GAMER BF + SHY GF FTW

The comments made him smile even brighter. The chat called her his girlfriend, but he didn't want to get too ahead of himself. He could only hope she'd respond positively.

"Shut up guys, I'm not her boyfriend.... well, yet hopefully."

20 minutes later, she walks into his room with snacks and a few drinks in a bag. He didn't expect her to come back so fast but it made him grateful. He was smiling wide as he took off his headphones and paused his game again, realizing how cute she was when she was just being herself. (Y/n) pauses in his doorway with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“Are--” She lowered her voice, “Are you streaming?”

"Uh, heh yeah. Uh, my chat they made me see something. It has to do with you."

“Oh god...” She chuckles and waves shyly at the camera, walking over, “They don't want me on another stream, do they?”

His chat was blowing up with comments, excited at the appearance of his roommate again. "Shut up guys, I swear. It wasn't planned. Anyway, you don't have to come near the camera.”

“I don’t, good; I was freaking out already.” She laughs.

“Do you mind if I keep streaming while we talk?"

“Uh... sure, why?” She hands him a soda and the boxes of pocky then backs out of the camera, “You making me nervous~”

"Yeah, sorry. They've really grown to like you, so they're excited to see you again."

“I was only in one stream!”

"I know, I know, but they really liked you. So every time you show up again, they get really excited because they love seeing more of you."

“I didn’t know I had fans; is that what you wanted to tell me?”

He sighed, "No, it's not. There's something else."

“Mkay...?”

"Alright.” He takes a deep breath and stands, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself, “So chat made me realize that I’m a biggest idiot in the world. I... I like you, (Y/n).”

“You're...” (Y/n) chuckles uncomfortably, “You’re joking? Kore wa jyooku desu ka?”

"No, no. I mean it. They helped me realize that you liked me so I wanted to tell you that.”

“But I thought you didn't like me.”

"Yeah, well, I thought I didn't, I realized it after they pointed out how we treat each other. And they were right.”

“So you were rejecting me... by accident?!”

“I just thought you'd stick around me cuz you’re still a little new to Japan!"

“Yuuji, I've lived here for like 5 months now!”

“Yeah, but I thought, like... I don’t know!”

“God, you be so clueless sometimes.” She sighs deeply, “Since I know now, finish your stream and we can eat the snacks and maybe, uh, eiga o miru?"

Itadori froze. “Movie? You... want to watch a movie with me?"

“Seems like the only thing to do this late at night," She chuckles, "Everything but the convenience store is closed this late."

"Hell yeah, I’d love to!”

(Y/n) laughs, “Mkay, lemme know when you’re done.”

(Y/n) leaves his room with the bag of her sweets and closes the door. Yuuji sits back down in his chair with a wide smile on his face as he starts playing his game again. He was so focused on finishing it for his stream and going to watch the movie that he wasn’t reading the chat’s confused and riled comments. He finally looked over at them and laughed, pausing the game:

- ITADORI IF U DON'T END THE STREAM

- GO BRO

- END STREAM

- STREAM TMR TF

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n): unfortunately not sponsored by strawberry pocky cuz 🤤🤤

[sunnys-out]

One for the road | Alex Morgan x Reader

Part 2 of Your damn cherry chapstick

A/N: Again we are going to, again, pretend that voicemails can be this long lol. Tech at work stopped working so was able to write this.

Warnings: Internalized homophobia, slight nsfw, not a happy ending

WC: 684

*Ring*

“Hey sorry I missed your call, just leave me a message and I’ll get back to you when I can! Bye!”

“Hey (y/n), this isn’t technically a text…but you will probably not even listen to this. So, I guess I’ll just say what I need to say for my own sake.”

Pause

“I remember the first time that I had met you…you were way too excited that morning practice…I was not. laughs Then we got paired up for drills and I could barely keep up with you…I don’t think you even broke a sweat”

Pause

“You were one of the few that had class after practice while the rest of us headed back to Clark Kerr to shower and sleep a bit longer. I made an off-hand comment as we were going our separate ways. I had seen a vendor near our dorm on the weekend selling strawberries and wondered when they would be back so I could buy myself some”

Pause

“I didn’t think about it until that evening…you knocked on my door with a small,green basket filled with strawberries. Honestly, I didn’t expect it especially from you...I mean we had just met. You just took one from the basket and took a bite, ‘just one for road as payment’ you said to me with a wink as you walked away to your room down the hall”

Pause

“I think that is when I started to fall in love with you…yeah I loved you…I probably still do…no, I still do. Sigh You became my best friend and I don’t ever think I can be as close to someone as I was with you. When we had our first kiss in the hallway of the frat house celebrating our win against Stanford…I swear I didn’t taste the tequila that you drank earlier but the strawberry you had the day we met.”

Pause

“I fell harder for you every day but I got scared…when you introduced me to Servando…I saw an easier future. You were everything I dreamed of but my career was just starting…I was becoming a poster child and the world is better but- I- sacrificed everything I had with you to have everything I have now. I hurt you I know…it hurts me knowing that. The Gala, I left you the moment I saw the recruiters, my fear came back again and I attached myself to Servando. You would be ok without me was my thought; you didn’t need me…Portland was smart to take you when they got created”

Pause

“(Y/N), I didn’t realize how much what I did affected you until you got injured for the first time in Portland. The eyes you shot at me when I approached you in the physio room to check on you. The force that you used to pushed me away, ‘Don’t fucking touch me’ keeps playing in my head when I remember that day. I really lost my best friend”

Pause

“You said that you remember the way I-...I remember those times too…I haven’t forgotten that. You were more than that to me. That last time…it was a goodbye but I just wanted to be close to you again to just be around you. I wanted to be near you when you had your career ending injury with Portland. That’s not what I did. I kept my distance when I saw you go down and from then on I kept myself from you.” 

Pause

“I did listen to your voicemail if it isn’t obvious…I’m sorry…You’re right when you say that I would think to run back to you if you showed up at the wedding…but it would only be a thought. I’m still that scared university student, fearful for her future but so in love with her best friend. You don’t deserve what I am doing to you, so this will be my last message to you ok? I love you and even if I won’t be in your life anymore…I will always be rooting for you…maybe in the next life we-... never mind. Goodbye, (y/n)”

…

[ddejavvu]

Mei that fratboy!Hotch fic was so good I’m growling 😭 He deserves it I cant even lie to you. If you want to, could you maybe write a part two? Where he grovels a little more and even when he tries to make a move on the Reader, she’s still a little apprehensive?

And you just know Garcias probably already found out what went down between those two in exactly 2 minutes and she just gives Hotch the 😑 every time he walks past her

part 1 // i'm so glad you liked it!! it was definitely a step away from what i usually do hehe // parts of this scene were definitely inspired by the comments on part one! thank you for sharing your ideas with me, i loved writing them <3

--

When Morgan finally gets to his hotel room that night, dialing Garcia is the first thing he does. He takes off his gun while the phone is ringing, and she answers from her bed instead of her desk chair.

"Hello?"

He's filled with fondness at the fact that she's already groggy, probably watching ASMR videos before bed to rid her thoughts of the case they've been working on.

"Hey, babygirl," He greets her, "I need your detective skills."

"But you said you were done for the night," She whines, shifting beneath her blankets, "Derek, when a lady is told she can get in bed, she's going to get in bed. Especially when you tell a lady to get in bed."

He scoffs, "Hey. Keep it PG, PG."

"Whatever," She huffs, "A girl can dream. And a girl was about to dream, until you not-so-kindly called me up and asked me for more help. What is it this time?"

"It's something with Hotch," Derek hums, his belt buckle jingling as he unhooks it with his phone pinned between his shoulder and his cheek, "Remember that cafe you gave us the address to earlier? Where that woman Y/N Y/L/N was working?"

"Yeah," She hums, and Derek signs through his nose.

"Well apparently she and Hotch used to go out."

Derek has a split second to yank the phone away from his ear before Penelope shrieks into it. He barely beats the buzzer, and he can hear her excited squeals all the way from where he'd thrown his phone down onto the bed.

"Alright, alright," He speaks into the receiver, keeping the earpiece away from his head, "Quiet, sweetheart. If you screech that loud Hotch'll hear you."

"That's so exciting," Penelope gushes as Derek slips his jeans down his legs. He steps out of them, leaving them messily on the floor. He'll step right into them tomorrow morning, he doesn't feel the need to clean up. "Did they set up a date or something? Or- or flirt? Or kiss, did they kiss?!"

"Slow down, mama," Derek chuckles, leaning away from the phone just enough to slide his shirt over his head, "No, they were real awkward about it. When we left I asked Hotch and that's when I found out they'd dated."

"He should go in for breakfast tomorrow," Penelope gushes, "That would be perfect!"

"That's what I said," Derek lets his shirt fall to the floor, "But you're not listening to me, baby. Just stop talking for a sec."

"That is not my forte," Penelope warns, "Get to the point, Derek."

"He got really weird about it when I asked him. He was his usual grumpy grouchy self at first, but I guess I asked one too many questions or something, and he snapped. Stopped dead in his tracks, told me to stop talking, slammed the car door, everything. And I thought he was gonna break the steering wheel off on the ride back to the precinct, I swear."

Penelope mulls his words over, and he continues after taking a short breath, "There's something more that he's not telling me, Garcia, and I need you to find out what it is."

"Okay," She breathes, just as eager as Morgan, "Okay, uh- what kinds of questions were you asking?"

"Well, I asked how he knew her, then he said they were dating." Morgan recalls, "Then I told him to go get breakfast down there, and he said things ended 'poorly', whatever that means. And then I said I bet he could still get a date with her if he tried, and that's when he went all stone cold."

"Wait," Derek can picture the sleepy furrow in Penelope's brows, "You said you bet he could get a date with her, and he snapped at you?"

"Yeah, he said some shit like 'don't say that', real cryptic." Derek remembers with a grimace, "What're you thinking?"

There's a tense moment of silence, then Derek is humbled while standing near-naked in a hotel room.

"I'm thinking that you're lucky you can kick down doors," Penelope sighs, "And that you're handsome. Because otherwise I don't think they'd let you work for the government."

Derek's face scrunches in confusion, and he looks at his phone like it's the one insulting him, "What? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should get dressed," Penelope sighs, "Get some sleep, and let me take care of everything."

Derek scoffs incredulously, equal parts fond and exasperated, "Alright, pretty girl. I'll get some sleep. But- hey, what do you mean get dressed? Do you- how did you know I'm not dressed?"

Derek rarely feels the fear of god working for the BAU, but now he feels the fear of Penelope Garcia, "Can you see me?"

She delights in his terror, "No! Well, not now, but you're definitely less careful changing on face time than you should be. I just heard your belt, dummy, and I figured you were getting undressed for the night."

"Penelope," Derek signs shakily, "You are one scary woman."

"Why thank you," Derek can hear the cheesy grin in her voice, and he tugs on pajama pants while she speaks, "I'm going to need to be, to straighten things out with Hotch and Y/N."

"Oh yeah? Gonna show him who's boss, babygirl?"

"I'm gonna give him this really withering stare," She promises emphatically, probably practicing the expression as they speak, "My withering stare is lethal, you should be glad you've never been on the receiving end of it, hunk."

"Sounds terrifying," Derek chuckles, finally fully clothed now, "Alright, thanks Garcia. I mean it, I knew you could figure this out."

"Derek, honey," She croons, "A pigeon could have figured this out."

"Rude." Derek's eyes narrow, "Goodnight, meanie."

"Goodnight, birdbrain," She croons, "I'll keep you updated!"

[goldsainz]

ur writing is so beautiful omg, so i was wondering if you could do lewis x actress!reader? something angsty idk

YOU’RE LOSING ME — one shot.

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: you have tried your best, but despite your valiant efforts, he just doesn’t see you anymore.

warnings: angst, cursing, a LOT (like a lot) of taylor references.

NOTE: YAY A LEWIS PIECE!!! i love this man so much makes me happy that someone asked me to write for him, so thank youuuuuu 🫶🫶 remember this is all fiction, it’s not meant to be taken literally. also, there won’t be a part 2, so pls don’t ask for one.

[ word count: 2,6k ]

You loved Lewis, and you knew he loved you. It wasn’t a matter of love, it was about showing up and making you feel wanted.

You knew love. You knew it was sweet, and had its sour moments, but it was about resilience and the want to be there for your loved ones. And love shouldn’t feel the way it did, it shouldn’t form a lump in your throat when he kissed you, it shouldn’t want to make you cry, it especially shouldn’t have made you feel lost.

You had spent endless nights sitting in the dark of your shared room, wondering if it was time. Maybe those feelings would go away, you knew Lewis was going through a rough time with Mercedes and his pursuit for an 8th WDC. And you were so, so supportive, but there wasn’t much more you could give. Should you throw out everything you had built together, or keep it? 

There were moments in which you remained silent, keeping each thought you had to yourself just to not ruin your day. You just glared at him, hoping he would realise something was wrong, that maybe you did have things to talk about, but he never did. He just kissed your forehead, and carried on with his day.

You had become accustomed to him coming home late, to the weeks without him. It was a part of his job, and even if you had wanted to accompany him, your job demanded too much of you to do so. 

Lewis was a popular person, and despite being very reserved, he still had many fans and people that admired him all around. His attention was always drawn to others, jumping from conversation to conversation, pausing your chats to greet whomever he recognised. It was exhausting, but you pushed through because he was the love of your life, the one you had been searching for your whole life.

After-parties were the best thing after award shows, it was much more intimate, and you didn't have to worry about unwanted attention. You could let loose for a while, the pressure of always being in front of a camera leaving you as you chatted the night away, drinking every now and then as to numb some of your worries. 

You watch people laughing, having the time of their lives, while you wallow by the bar of your own party. You feel forgettable, but so needed at the same time, people kiss your cheeks and congratulate you for your award winning performance and the achievement you accomplished, and all you do is smile at everyone. You feel like a fraud, acting like you're great when in reality you are screaming on the inside.

“Is Lewis here?” One of your castmates asks you, making you search for him in the crowd.

“Yeah, he’s with his friends.” You say with the best smile you can muster.

“Doesn’t it bother you that he's not with you?” 

“I’m sorry?” The question startles you, tilting your head to the side as the emotion from your face fades.

“I mean, it’s not every day you win a golden globe for best actress, shouldn’t he be with you?” 

“He’s a very busy man, it doesn't bother me, there’s still so much time to celebrate.” You say with a laugh, brushing off the comment.

“Ugh, you’re such couple goals. It makes me jealous, honestly.” 

“Well, it has been six years.” You almost cringe at the bad joke, but fortunately she just laughs. You smile at her, bidding her a good night as you leave to socialise.

The party is at its peak, people are dancing anywhere and everywhere, shoes are discarded around as the dancing gets to them. 

“Y/N, get over here!” Miles, Lewis’ friend, shouts at you.

Walking through a crowd of drunk people is near impossible, it takes a lot of patience but you finally reach your boyfriend and his friends. You instantly sit next to Lewis, his knee brushing yours, but other than that, no further contact happens.

It should worry you, it does, but you’ve learnt to not question his attitude. You don’t want to start a fight on your special night, not with all of the people around you, not when he’s finally somewhere with you.

“Hi, guys.” You say, smiling at everyone.

“We wanted to see you, you’ve been everywhere all night!” The comment almost makes you scoff, you’ve looked for Lewis and he is always somewhere else, something always calls his attention when you reach him

“You know how it is.” His friends all laugh at the comment, but he just looks at you with a little smile. 

“Well, now that you’re here, the group is complete.”

“It’s always nice to see all of you, thank you for coming, by the way.”

“As if we would ever miss this!” Another of his friends says, motioning to the place with his hands.

You try to intertwine your fingers to your boyfriend’s, initiating any sort of contact to try and mend his poor behaviour in front of his friends. They’re all too drunk to notice the awkwardness, but you feel it, it has been suffocating you for months.

“I’m glad you’re having fun then.” 

The conversation flows nicely enough. It serves as a distraction from the indifference Lewis gives you. You’re the best at the party, you’re the reason the party is even happening, and yet you still fade in the background of his thoughts. 

“So, how long are you here in London for?” Riley, one of his friend’s girlfriends, asks you, a drink in her hand. 

“I’m leaving on wednesday, but I’m probably gonna be back in England for the Grand Prix.” You look at Lewis, who turns to you at the same time.

“That’s great! I could neer travel as much as you guys do.”

“It’s part of the job, but we make it work.” You wait for Lewis to support your statement, but he just looks away.

“When you get married, I need to be there. Your love story is one for the books, girl.” The mention of marriage makes you smile, it’s the one thing you’ve wanted with Lewis since you met him. It’s also the first thing that truly made you smile since you sat down with the group of friends. 

Your eyes look down at your bare finger, rubbing the spot where an engagement ring could be if Lewis ever asked you the big question. 

“We’re not in a rush to get married.” Is what Lewis says to her. It’s the first time he’s spoken with you included in a conversation, and all you can do is keep smiling. You push away the pain, the knot that forms in your throat almost makes you break. 

“We have a lot on our plates, you know? But I’ll make sure you're on the guest list when the time comes.” If Riley sensed anything off, her face is not anything to go by. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to get a way for even a second. And just like that, you desperately want the night to be over.

Arriving at your shared home is nothing short of uncomfortable. The silence while your chauffeur drove you both home made your eyes gloss over, you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to keep your tears at bay, but you needed to be strong.

You throw your shoes by the doorway, eager to go to sleep and forget the fact that Lewis indirectly said he didn’t want to get married to you. You’ve been together for six years, he knows you would love to get married, that if he asked you would say yes. It's him who repels the idea, though he once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he now is in no rush to truly settle down with you.

It makes you spiral. Maybe it’s you who makes it difficult to get married, you know you're not the easiest person in the world, but Lewis isn’t either, but you never fault him for it. He says he doesn't understand many things you do, and you tell him you know he doesn't. You’re dying inside with all of the things unsaid between you, and he doesn't see it. 

You need him to say something, to do anything to show that he still cares. And as you watch him do his skincare routine, something you used to do together as he taught you how to take care of yourself better, you can’t seem to shake the feeling creeping up on you. That this won't go away, you’re not going through a rough patch, there isn’t a cure to your situation. You just need to let go.

“Lewis?” You call out, sitting on your bed as you prepare for whatever may happen. He hums in response, too caught up on his stuff.

“Can you come here when you’re done, please?” 

“Sure.”

When he finishes up in the bathroom, he goes to lay down on the bed. You watch him, how he doesn't seem bothered by the indecision surrounding the room, how grey you have become in all of your overthinking. 

“We’re okay, right?” It’s as if time stops. Lewis, who was calmly laying on the bed, has now frozen on his spot. You search his face in hopes to know what he’s thinking, but you can’t. You don’t know him like you used to, the person you hoped would never become a stranger, was now nearing that.

You don’t know if it's his long pause of silence that confirms what you already knew, but hoped wasn't true, or if it’s the fact that you can’t believe you hoped for any type of response.

“I need to know if we’re okay, Lewis.” You turn your whole body to look at him, silently begging him to say something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.” He drags his hands over his face, like the conversation is an annoyance to him , something he can't even consider entertaining. It makes the first tear fall down your face, watching the man you love be so dismissive. 

“Anything, literally anything, Lewis.”

“We just had a great night, Y/N. Let’s not ruin it and talk about this some other time, alright? I’m very tired, I have a very busy week ahead, and would like to rest a little.”

It’s a poor excuse, you both know it, it’s written all over his face. You consider letting it go, apologising as you have before, but something about his dismissal makes you angry. It’s the final straw, the last time you will take the blame for trying to fix your relationship, for trying to understand.

“Is that why you won’t marry me?” Your voice breaks in between your words, the raw emotion covering your eyes as you watch him close his eyes in frustration.

“What the fuck are you even talking about right now?”

You scoff at his words, “You said we’re not in a rush to get married.”

“Because we’re not. It’s not a good time, Y/N, and you know it.” His voice is cold, making you wince.

“For you! There’s never a good enough time with you, there’s always something more important.” 

“Oh, come on, don’t put this on me.” He stands up from where he is, making his way to the kitchen. You don’t hesitate to follow him, not ready to give up on your conversation.

“I want to settle down, Lewis, we’ve talked about this a thousand times.” You wipe your tears away, trying to compose yourself. “You know that if you ask me I would say yes. Do you even know how embarrassing it is to have everyone ask me when I’m gonna be your bride? All of our friends are getting married, so they practically hand me the bouquet now, and each time you act like nothing happened.”

He pours himself a glass of water, not looking at you, ignoring your presence as if he hopes his indifference will make you go away. 

“I love you, why isn't that enough?” 

“Do you?” He glances at you, and you finally see the look in his eyes. He doesn't want to fight you, he doesn't want to fight for your relationship. Despite all of the times he acted oblivious, he knew you were reaching a breaking point, he knew you were beating yourself over the impending doom of your relationship, and he said nothing.

You know your pain is an imposition. You know he tolerates it, and you don't question it. You just make your peace with it, even if it means to lie to yourself. There is no doubt in your mind that he loves you, but you don't think he loves you enough, not as he once did, anyway.

“So that's it? Our relationship gets hard and you want to leave?”

“That’s not at all what I said.”

“Well, it’s what you’re implying.” 

“I just want you to talk to me, to fight for us. That’s all I want.” You rest your elbows on the kitchen counter, placing your head on the palms of your hands, feeling tears soak them.

Lewis shakes his head, leaving the kitchen. You don’t know where he is going, you don’t make an effort to follow him this time. He’s losing you, and he isn't stopping his life to make you stay or even watch you go. 

You want him to choose you, you’re right there with him for all of his fights, always on the front line. You never hesitate to bleed for him, yet he does not risk anything. It seems unfathomable that the man you hoped to never lose, actually lost you. It seemed like so long ago when you believed forever was the direction your relationship would take, he changed and you unfortunately stayed the same.

You hear his footsteps near you, but you don’t lift your head to look at him. Not when you know that if you do you’ll truly break, you’ll have to say goodbye to years of memories, you’ll have to walk away once and for all.

You’re shocked when you feel him wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back. You don’t tense at the touch, you would never, there isn't an ounce of you that doesn't crave all of the contact lost between you. It’s all you've wanted lately, yet it doesn't change a thing. He walked out a long time ago, and now you have to do the same.

“This won’t work, Lewis.” 

“I know.”

“I gave it my all, you know?” You whisper, and you feel him press a kiss to the side of your neck, but there are no longer butterflies when he does so, just a broken heart that won't start for him anymore. Your heart was glass, and he dropped it. 

“I know you did.” He whispers back.

You want to ask him, if he wished he would’ve put up more of a fight, but you don't think you could deal with the silence after. You know it’s not you, that it’s him, that despite all your faults loving him was never one.

And you’ll try to forget about it. Try to pretend you will find someone who will be equal to Lewis, but you’ll remain right where he left you. And you won’t talk about it, just act like it’s for the best. But it would’ve been fun if he would've been the one.

[forever-once-gone]

Day 2: Seokjin - How he had once claimed you as his <3

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February!

Word count: 6.3k (obviously, I am once again failing the task of keeping these short lol)

Content and Warnings: yandere au, supernatural au, love, murder, child neglect, fighting parents, child abandonment, reader has a disdain for her fellow humans, reader's father is a deadbeat, reader's mother disappears, Jin is a man (?) obsessed, possessiveness, illusions to future inter-clan wars, vows of commitment, death, starvation, kissing.

Author's Note: I have no self control. This is again much longer than it should be. At this point it would be considered a whole fic, not a drabble. Also, this is dedicated to @rosquilleta, @/teacakess on Ao3, and the anon who sent me a kind ask ONLY 😤. Thank you dears for commenting 🥰🥰🥰 You guys gave me motivation to write!

You pulled your clothes off, letting them pool at your feet. The day had been rough, foraging through the woods all day took quite a load out of you. You had to go into the forest that surrounded your small town to gather some herbs and other plants and fungi to sell in your little shop. It was hard to maintain the quickly depleting stocks in your shop since you were the only person left who dared to venture into the accursed forest.

You once had a mother who cared for you dearly. She had been warm and loving, and had done everything she could do to raise you after your father had refused to stand up and divulge the fact that he—despite being the village leader’s son—was the secret lover of your mother when she had gotten pregnant. He would often sneak into your house by the outskirts of town when you were a child to try and convince your mother that he had had no choice.

“I’m sorry, dear, you know my father would never accept our relationship. A child out of wedlock? With an orphaned woman, especially from your lineage? It would never work. We’d no doubt be thrown out into the accursed forest, and where would that leave us? Leave Y/n?”

Your mother would never meet his eyes, she never had since the day he’d refused to claim you and your mother at the town meeting. Instead, she’d just make it clear that he had no place in her or your life any more. “I don’t know why you’re here, your highness.”

“Don’t call me that,” he’d beg. “I’m not a prince, I’m not anything like that. We are one, my love. Stop mocking me with those words. We’re equal here.”

“You may not be a prince, nor have any royal blood, but your words make it clear that you think you’re high above me. My lineage? What do you mean by that? You know as well as anyone that there is nothing about me that is cursed. Just because my family was the only one brave enough to enter into the forest, doesn’t mean that we’re cursed! You surely didn’t think I was cursed before I became with child!”

“Do not twist my words, my love. You know I do not think of you like that, but you must admit it is strange how every member of your family had disappeared in those woods for centuries. You cannot ignore how implicating that is, my dear.” He had raised his hands in an almost pleading manner, trying to play to your mother’s emotions.

But your mother had little to no feelings left for the one who had been her biggest betrayer.  “My family may have all disappeared into the woods, but that is only because we’re the only ones who actually dare to enter it! And you cannot ignore the fact that anyone else who was not in my family line who had entered the forest, did not ever return, even though it was all of their first time entering the woods. The fact that my family has, for generations, been able to enter and leave the forest for years, before we finally disappear. Compared to everyone who disappears the first time they enter,I think we may be the blessed ones, not cursed. Besides, nobody seems to think we’re cursed when they want the herbs, vegetables, and fruits we bring back from the forest.” Your mother saw you peeking out from the bedroom.

“Y/n, go back inside, dear. You do not have to hear this.” She began to walk towards the door, shooing you further into the room. “Go to sleep.” She softly clicked the door closed after giving you a reassuring smile.

You walked back into bed, pulling the various knit blankets over you as you heard your mother telling your father that he had overstayed his welcome once again.

Spending nights hearing your parents arguing in the next room over, was not new to you. As far back as you can remember, your father would covertly enter your house to try and get your mother to forgive him, to let him be a father to you. He would bring you clothes, sometimes toys, other times blankets to try and win you over. You would politely take the objects before your mother would usher you back into your room. 

But you knew better than to think that he actually meant to make it up to your mother. He’d always ask for forgiveness, but never ask to accept her and reveal to the village that you were his child. Your mother had questioned him the night of your ninth birthday—the last birthday you had with her—of what his true intentions were of coming here, night after night. He’d been a bumbling mess, too embarrassed to say in front of your mother that he really had no intentions of revealing anything. He really just wanted to relieve himself of his guilt, or at least, that’s what it had seemed like to you.

If he really cared, he would stand by your mother and yourself.

But then again, he never married following his parting from your mother.

You would wait to hear the front door shut behind your father. You would hear silence as your mother sat at the dining table for, usually, ten to twenty minutes after he’d left before she’d slink back into the room with you. She’d get into bed, and pull you against her chest. Her hand would smooth over your head, and sometimes she’d whisper apologises to you, thinking you were asleep.

She had been the only one who took care of you in your life, the only true one to care for you.

When your mother had disappeared in the forest only a few weeks before your tenth birthday, you had been beyond distraught. 

You had cried in the town square all morning and afternoon, when you had woken up and realized that your mother had not returned in the night. You had begged for someone to help you, to look in the forest for you, to find her. Everyone had walked right past all of you, ignoring your little crying form, clothes soiled from the dirt that you had collapsed in when the village leader had turned you away. 

Your father had seemed like he wanted to say something, hesitating when he had found you in the square on his way back to his home. But, in the end, he had walked away from you, leaving you to cry until you lost consciousness.

When you had finally come to, it was the middle of the night. No one was around. The air was cold. And your fingertips had lost all feeling, stiff as you tried to wiggle them around. You had sat up, hoping that you’d see your mother emerging from the forest at the edge of your vision, but you saw no such thing. No such blessing.

You had to pick yourself up from that cold dirt floor, and trudge your way back to your house by the edge of the glade. You had, again, hoped that you’d open the door to find your mother, tending to the fire in the fireplace. Perhaps, stirring a pot that she had hung in it, as she smiled at you, letting you know dinner was almost ready.

But life was not that kind to you.

The few weeks had been tough. You had to learn how to care for yourself all by yourself. You used up all the stored food that your mother would have sold if she had not disappeared. People had not come to your house expecting to buy anything, like they used to when your mother was still around. You had used those supplies and what you had to feed yourself, but when they had come to an end (other than a few jars of preserves, your mother had jarred only a few days before she disappeared that you did not have the heart to open yet), you realized you had to do something to find food.

You had properly dressed up for the first time since your mother’s disappearance. You had ventured out to the river that passed through the glade and bathed. You had scrubbed every last ounce of built up oil from your hair. You had put on your best clothes. You had picked up your basket from the shelf where you used to keep all the items your mother used to sell. And threw on the cloak your mother had sewed for you.

And you did what your family had always done when there was nothing left for them in the village.

You entered the woods.

Your mother had brought you into the woods intermittently from when you were young. You supposed she once had to take you every time when she ventured into the woods when you were a newborn, as there was no one else to take care of you. But by the time you had become old enough not to die of starvation or neglect if left alone for a few hours (about 2 and a half years old), she had begun to cut your trips to the woods. She would leave you alone at home with a snack and some water, promising to return soon.

Following that, she had rarely brought you into the forest. Only a few times in the year. And that was only because she had told you: “One day, I’m sure the forest will take me just like it did my father. Before then, I need you to learn how to navigate the forest, because it will become your only source of trading power with the other villagers, you understand me? It will be tough to be on your own—it was for me too—but I want you to be better prepared for the woods than I was when my father disappeared. I just don’t want you to starve like I did when it happened to me.” Her eyes had darkened. “Not one of those villagers will come to help you, Y/n. Not one.”

You repeated those words to yourself the first time you had entered the forest alone, following the routes that your mom would go through. You foraged for the berries she had shown you, the root vegetables that she had taught you to identify from the stalks that were visible above the dirt, and you checked the traps that your mother had left for small game.

Fortunately, each of the traps had worked and caught a small prey. But unfortunately, all of the animals had started to rot from not being collected all these weeks later. Some had even been scavenged, leaving mangled messes of flesh. You just released the traps, and pushed the corpses away with a stick before re-preparing the traps.

You unconsciously looked around, fearing that you may end up stumbling across your mother’s corpse in a similar stage as the animals you had scraped off the traps. For better or for worse, you had not.

Before the sun could get even close to setting, you returned home. And when you entered the house, a sense of heaviness pushed down on you. A heaviness that came with the realization that this was your new life. You were alone, left to fend for yourself in the forest if you hoped to survive. Left alone to mourn your mother. Mourn her, until you also, just like all your ancestors before you, also disappeared out in the forest.

At least, then, the ghosts of your ancestors could sigh in relief that there would be no more orphaned descendents/children fighting to survive in the glade anymore after you.

You took off the cloak you were wearing and stepped out of your muddied shoes. Only when you sat down at the dining table did you realize something had changed from the way it had been before you had left that morning.

There was a package wrapped up in a sheet on your table. Your breath stopped for a second; could this be from your mother? Was she still alive?

You carefully pulled off the sheet from the contents within, only to find some clothes, a bag of flour, and some goat’s milk along with a note.

I’m so sorry, dear Y/n.

I cannot be the father you deserve, but I will try to provide for you when I can.

Happy birthday, sweet child.

Regrettably,

Your inadequate father.

P.S. I know you will not believe me, but I also miss your mother as much as you do.

Your disdain had grown for him tenfold that night.

Nobody bought from you the first few days after you ventured into the forest. You liked to think it was due to them feeling guilt for how they practically left you to die when your mother disappeared. But you knew the truth, it was much more likely they were worried that you were still unstable and could lash out on them. But after a week of you putting up the open sign by your front door, two mothers had come to you unabashedly, asking for the one of the types of root vegetables your mother used to get from the forest in exchange for a couple eggs.

When the two women had been able to leave your house unharmed, the others slowly made their way back to making their visits to your little house, offering trades and money for the goodies that only grew in the accursed forest. And with that, you had set a routine. A routine involving spending half your time in the woods and half your time in the glade.

And with this routine, you were able to brave your way through the days, then the weeks, the months, and even the years.

And before you knew it, you were twenty-five. Had spent much more time on your own than the time you had spent with your mother. Over fifteen years since she had disappeared without a trace. 

It had also been fifteen years since you had truly felt cared for.

Sure, your father still left you gifts here and there. But that didn’t make any warmth spread through your body. It didn’t help the fact that you hadn’t had anyone to laugh with in all these years. No one to talk to about anything beyond types of vegetables and game. The only time when you had a conversation longer than a couple of words was when one of the men from the village would try and haggle with you for a rabbit that you had brought back in from the forest that morning.

Your father was not much comfort either.

He still wrote you short messages when he would leave packages on your doorstep, but they were as worthless as all those visits he made to see your mother when she was still around. His reassurances were hollow, and you didn’t care to give him the time of day.

You’d become just like your mother, in that even when you saw him around, you’d always turn the other way. In a way, he brought you a bit closer to your mother, since your hatred for him made you understand her cold-shoulder towards him.

You never felt more alone than when you were in the glade with the other villagers, father be damned.

That is why, other than to sleep and to sell your goods, you tended to stay in the accursed forest as much as you could. Even though it made the villagers whisper how you must be more dangerous than your mother since she didn't spend nearly as much time in the forest as you did. To that, all you could think was that you didn’t have a child waiting at home for you to raise, unlike your mother. You were certain she would have done the same as you if she didn’t have to care for you back then.

Despite how there was not one other person in the first besides you, just being away from the village made you feel more at peace. You felt more connected with your mother, when you walked her routes, set her traps, and used all the tips and tricks she had taught you when you were young.

Your favorite spot, however, was the small lake in the forest. It was in the middle of a river—its offshoot didn’t cross into the glade, and the running water was always fresh. It was cold in the summer, and warm in the winter; how it exactly managed that, you had no idea. But you had fond memories of it. It was the place where your mother had taught you how to swim. This was the only place where you would see her just sit down and relax, unworried and free.

It had been her spot.

And now, it was yours.

You sat down in the cool water, feeling it wash off the sweat you had accumulated on the voyage through the woods. You were still near the shallow enough edge where you could sit on the floor and the water would only reach up to your armpits. It was nice to let go for a bit.

You sat in the water for a good ten minutes before you wadded deeper into the lake, figuring it was time for you to forage for the underwater plants that people liked to buy off of you to put into soups. You would swim down into the lake, and swim through the thick plant filled bottom of the lake that curled up into the water like bushes. You would push around the rock covered floor to loosen the roots of the plants to get them to release. The leaves would float up to the surface, where you’d collect them later on when you felt you had collected enough.

This time, as you pushed around the large rocks among the dense plants, you felt something warm. You pulled your arm back, expecting to see a fish shoot out of the thicket from your disturbance, but instead, nothing. You were taken aback. You reached out your hand again to see if you would find some freshly dead animal laying in the plants, but when you pushed the plants aside to see, you instead found a large, warm stone.

But it was strange, it was in the shape of a human head.

You felt your eyes bulge out of your head, as you broke through the carpet of plants you had released into the water, immediately kicking to the surface of the lake. You tried to gulp down as much air as you could before you dove straight back into the lake, kicking back to the stone head. You immediately started to check if it looked like your mother, but it did not. It instead looked like a man. 

Was this some sort of preserved human? 

No, it couldn’t be. It was very much stone.

You circled around the head, pulling away more plants to uncover more stones if you could. You didn’t find any more human head-shaped stones, but you did realize that the stone head was much more than just a head. It was attached to a rock body. It was an entire statue that had been shoved into the lake.

You continued to try and uncover more of the statue between taking breaks where you swam up to the surface for more oxygen. And after about ten minutes you had uncovered the whole statue from under the rocks and plants.

You were surprised that you had never come across this before. This large stone statue that just laid at the bottom of the lake. You just stared at it, honestly, unsure what to do now.

That is until the statue began to rise. You swam back from the statue as it seemed to float up through the water to the lake’s surface, bobbing around with the water plants. How could this statue be so light that it was able to float?

You swam up after it, coming up beside it. You pushed it, testing how light it was, and just from your one light push, it began to drift to the dirt beside the lake where your clothes were. The statue continued to bob around in the shallow water until you dragged it across the pebbles to the dry land.

The statue was of a man with one hand coming up to press the backs of his knuckles underneath his chin. The other curled around his stomach. His lips were full and slightly open. His hair was loose against his forehead. His eyes scrunched together with an expression of pleasure. The statue was also very naked, which made the pose very… suggestive.

Uh…

You really did not know what to make of the statue.

Maybe this is just something that happens in the cursed forest? You find random statues? Statues that seemed like they were in the throes of passion?

But you doubted it. In all your years of coming into the forest, there really was not anything glaringly wrong about it.

It was just a regular forest. 

This was the first weird statue you came across.

Other than the fact that when people would venture into it, they’d never return, there was nothing really demonic about the woods.

Hmm.

You stood beside the statue, before you decided, you didn’t really care about it.

Like, what were you really supposed to do? Tell the other villagers? They wouldn’t care. They probably wouldn't even believe you. Or even if they did, they wouldn’t really have any plans of what to do with it either.

So, it was beyond your abilities to care about.

You left it lying by the shore and jumped back into the lake, going out to gather the plants that were floating around, waiting to be collected. You made quick work of it, gathering them all and bringing them to shore. You wrapped them in a cloth to absorb as much water as possible on them before slipping them into the basket with your other goodies.

You then turned to pull on your clothes, humming a little tune to yourself. And when you were all ready, you pulled on your cloak, picked up your basket, and began your trek back home, you were just about to reach the thickening of the trees—

That is until: “Hey! That’s not how this is supposed to go!”

You stopped in your tracks, your grip tightening on your basket.

Did that come from the… lake?

You slowly turned to the lake, and in between the trees you could make out… something.

Ah, this is the day you die isn’t it.

You thought to turn back around and try to make a break for it, but instead, you walked back to the lake, dropping your basket beside one of the trees.

If you were going to die, you were willing to accept it if it meant you’d be able to see your mother again.

When you made it back to the lake, you expected to see a demon or something of the like, but instead it was just the statue again.

But this time, it was standing up. Its arms fists at its hips with its lips frozen in a pout, as though it was mad at you. Its eyes were open this time as it glared at you.

Okay, magic statue it is then.

Was this statue the thing that killed all your family members before?

Well, you hoped it made it quick.

You walked up to it. Stopping just a step away from it. “Um, did you just speak to me? Like you, the statue?”

With a blink, the statue was in another pose, his palm pressed against its forehead, the other hand still against its waist. And without the statue’s mouth moving at all from its slight agape position, it said, “Yes, I did. Now, kiss.”

With another blink of your eye, the statue had once again changed its pose. Its arms were brought up behind his head, posing like a self-absorbed man trying to show off his arm muscles, as its hands pressed to the back of its head, out of sight. His eyes were closed once again.

You weren’t sure what to do. Were you meant to kiss this statue? You really did not want to. “I’m not going to kiss you. Forgive me.”

With another blink, the statue's eyes shot open. “WHAT?!” With another blink, the statue was right in front of you, nose to nose with you, as it bent slightly to glare directly into your eyes. Its arms were crossed over its chest, as it lamented once again, without moving its lips, “This isn’t how this is supposed to go! You’re supposed to kiss me!”

All you felt was annoyance. Was the statue going to kill you or not? You were getting a bit impatient having to deal with its dramatics. “Is that so? And why am I meant to kiss you?”

In less than a second its posture had changed again. Its arms were still crossed against his chest, but this time he wasn’t leaning into your face. Instead, he was standing upright with his head looking off to the right with a deep pout. “The others did!” He whined. “They said I had to win you over, so that’s what I’m trying to do, but you are not cooperating!”

“Who are they?” you asked, adopting his pose with your arms crossed against your chest.

“You know! My people! The ones who govern this forest and our respective lands. I come from the Kim clan, one of the many clans in the nation. I was meant to tell you this after you kissed me.” He remained pouting off to the side.

“So you come from a group of statues?”

He left out an affronted gasp. “Good Earth, no! This is obviously a facade that was meant to woo you! We’re obviously not a people of statues. How absurd of you to even imply that.”

“Then what are you then? And why do you need to “woo” me?”

He changed his position again, now sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, his head propped up on his hand. He looked frustrated. “I would have explained all that to you if you had kissed me like you were meant to. If you want to know, you shall present me with a kiss.”

You sat down in front of him. “That’s unfortunate as I am not going to kiss you.”

His mouth fell open in shock. “I told you, I’ll tell you once you kiss me!”

“Yes, I heard. And I am not going to kiss you,” you insisted, also resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“But that’s what we’re meant to do! The elders told me that I get to be the one from our clan to finally have our turn to get a L/n human as a spouse! They told me I’m meant to come up with a ceremony to sweep you off your feet, and then you’ll be mine! I was only supposed to explain everything else to you after you gave me your hand.”

The statue shot in front of you, now sitting up on his knees, with his hands on either side of your body, his face only a few centimeters from your face again. This time he had his lips all puckered up, with his eyes all scrunched up as if he was prepared for a kiss.

“Now give me a kiss,” he demanded. “And then I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Plus, I can take you back to my lands with me. Now. Kiss!”

“That all sounds well and good.” You leaned back from the insolent statue. “But I’m still not going to kiss you, especially not if it's part of some ceremony.”

The statue was on the ground in a blink of the eye. His knees bent to the sky, as he covered his eyes with his hands. His mouth downturned in a frown. “Why did I have to get the L/n that was the most stubborn of them all?” He seemed to ask no one in particular.

You let him wallow in his self-pity, instead picking at the grass surrounding the both of you. After a few minutes of silence, you asked him, “Has your tantrum completed yet?”

Like a child he said, “no.”

“Well then,” you stood up, brushing the dirt off of your rear, and pulled your hood over your head. “I’ll be off.” You turned and were back on your route, picking your basket up as you passed it.

“Wait!” Finally a man appeared before you, no longer a statue, but a human looking man. His chest was rising and dropping quickly as he held his arms up in front of you, keeping you in place. It was good to see him actually moving, and not just teleporting whenever your eyes closed, it was starting to strain your eyes. “Look, I’m in my true form now, will you just let me explain?”

“Alright, but I will not be kissing you.”

“Yeah, I got that part,” he mumbled, pushing his purplish-pink, wet hair back from his forehead. “Can we sit? And I’ll explain.”

“Could you put on some clothes first?”

He sighed, but in an instant he was dressed in an immaculate, translucent set of fabrics that seemed to shimmer in the early evening light. The clothing was unlike anything you’d seen before. They were in hues of blue and green that flowed loosely over his body as though they were waterfalls that sprouted and fell from his body.

You wondered if they were tangible or something he had just magicked up. You wondered if you were to grab at them, would you be able to feel them or would your fist come back empty.

He walked past you, back towards the lake with his clothes dragging behind him. He looked luxurious.

He went to a different edge of the lake, with giant boulders. He sat down on them, letting his legs soak in the water, his form slumped.

You followed after him, and also sat beside him, but instead of dipping into the water, you sat beside him cross-legged.

He twirled his feet around in the current. “I thought you’d like my entrance. I thought you’d want something romantic for the first meeting you had with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was meant to win you over. You were mine to have, but it’s not that simple. We are not allowed to just steal you away, We need you to come willingly. We need you to fall for us.”

“We as in your people?”

“Yes, my people. We are known by many names to you humans: fairies, fae, elves, pixies, selkies, nagas, tricksters, incubi, demons, witches, immortals. We are shapeshifters, we have magick, we can come to humans however we please. It led to many folklore about us. Really, all those myths stem from our mating ceremonies.”

You waited for him to continue.

“We are only allowed to pick mates from one lineage. In every nation, there is only one family that we can take spouses from. It’s part of our laws, so we do not reveal ourselves to much more than we need to to humans. It also keeps our spouses from fighting amongst themselves, since most of them are on good terms with one another. It prevents clan wars.” He turned to look at you, his hair slightly drier than before.

You took a moment to take in his beauty. He was a handsome man, that you could not deny. You had never met a person with colourful hair like his, other than the one person in the glade with red hair. But this was so different from that. It looked like he’d dyed them with flowers like people did wool, something unnatural for people to have. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was his natural hair colour or if this was one of the perks of being a shapeshifter.

You hummed at him to keep going with his explanation.

“It was agreed upon centuries ago that it would be the L/n family that we would take partners from. As long as they had had time to have children to keep the family line going, we could take our pick of who we wanted. In return, your family got the ability to walk in our lands unharmed. Something that other humans would be… killed for trying to do.”

He eyed you to see what your reaction would be to him admitting to his people killing humans. He didn’t know how to feel when he saw no sympathy for the humans who had perished.

“It was my clan’s turn next to get a L/n, and of course, there was you. I had just turned twenty, and you had been twenty-one. I was entranced right away by you. I wanted to take you right away, after all, it was my birthright. But, the elders of the clans told me I had to wait. I had to wait for you to have a child, but how could I?!” He had turned right towards you, pulling your hands into his lap. “How could I let a human hold you close before I got the chance to? How could I let you raise children with a human, with someone other than me. I couldn’t bear it.”

He had pulled your hands to his chest. “But the clan leaders, Y/n, while they understood me—they had after all had to go through the same thing as I did before they got their L/n—but they told me I must wait. So I did. I waited even though it hurt me. I waited until you had a child so that I could finally take you away, but then it just wasn’t happening! You weren’t meeting people, you weren’t falling in love or having children! It had been five years, and it just wasn’t happening.”

He pulled one of your hands from his chest to come up and cradle his cheek in your hand. “So I spoke with the clan leaders, and they said I still couldn’t take you.” 

His arm came around your torso, pulling you against him. “So I decided, I was going to take you. Who are they to stop me from taking my spouse, my mate? Let them burn, I say. Who cares if the remaining clans will not have their own L/n spouses, I do not care. You are mine, and I refuse to wait any longer.” His other arm had come to the back of your head, bringing you closer to his face. “Kiss me, Y/n, and then I can claim you as mine.”

He tilted his head, flickering his eyes closed as he went to close the gap between the two of you, but you instantly put a finger up to his pursed mouth.

“Do you mean to tell me my mother is alive? She was taken by one of the other clans?” Your eyes were urgently digging into him.

The man pulled away slightly, his eyes opening back up slowly. “Well yes. All of your family members are alive in one way or another in our lands.” He could see the way your eyes hardened, he could imagine that you were worried for your mother’s state. “Once we take them, they become ours, Y/n. We tie them to our eternal life so they could be by our side as long as we shall live. We take good care of our spouses, that I can assure you. I’ve met her once before.” He cupped your face in his hands. “She is well, Y/n.”

You felt tears run down your face and onto his hands. “S-She’s alive?”

He nodded.

You collapsed against him in sobs, calling out for your mother. He rubbed your back, trying to calm you down the best that he could.

Fifteen years it had been since she’d disappeared—no, been taken from you.

Fifteen years.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t come to see you in all those years, you could forgive her for that, but you wanted to see her now. You needed to see the only person who cared for you. You needed her.

You straightened up, wiping your tears away before grabbing onto the man. “Take me to her. I’ll do whatever you want, just take me to her.” You begged in a choked voice.

“I can only do that if you agree to be mine. Only if you kiss m—”

You pressed your lips against his.

For a second he didn’t move, just allowing you to ravage his lips. But once he realized what had happened, he immediately pulled you closer. He pulled you against him and kissed you back with as much fervor as you did. He felt jolts of electricity pass through his body as the vow between the two of you cemented in place.

You were his now.

And he was yours.

When the burning in your chest got too much, you pulled away from the magickal man. Just enough for you to breathe in some air.

He pressed a kiss against the corner of your mouth as you panted. “I suppose it is time for me to give you my name now that you are mine.”

He pressed a kiss to your jaw before he whispered into your neck, “I shall give you my name, as you gave me yours through the completion of the ceremony of the vow. I give you my name: Kim Seokjin.”

Reader won't even realize the gravity of him giving his name to you until they went back to his land and learned more about his people. He really meant the whole "I am yours, and you are mine" thing 😬

Just so you guys know, I wanted to write a bit more to explain why he decided to come to you as a statue, but then this was just already way too long, so I decided not to. Long story short: He was inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and he thought he may woo you (as that is part of the ceremony, he must win you over), by replicating that myth. He thought you'd fall head over heels for his handsome statue self, and you'd kiss him without him even having to ask! Obviously, he was a bit over confident lol.

Maybe at some point, I'll write that Jin explaining to his partner why he did what he did later on in the month or maybe afterwards. I just wanted to write him being all pouty as he explained his plan, but oh well lol.

Anyway, please reblog and comment, it makes my day and motivates me so much! Have a good night!

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 10

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: Mean!Eddie, Angst, traumatic past, painful procedures (gyno), cheating, Billy x reader at the beginning

wc: 7k

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

A/N: Well shit, I did say it will take a turn and shift. Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter, it was painful to write, but it is needed for you guys to know about the backstory of it all. If you see real closely, you'll see a part of this chapter that was actually in previous chapters ;)

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

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CHAPTER 10

Two dates turned into three.

Three dates turned into four.

Four turned into eight.

And you lost count.

“All I’m saying is that Max found you entertaining in the video call!” You chuckle with heat on your cheeks as you dipped your head in Billy’s chest, trying to cover your face. You didn’t intend on presenting yourself to Max, but he was on a video call when you arrived at his place yesterday, and you didn’t know because he had opened the door so normally with the phone in his hand and greeted you with a kiss, not noticing the phone in his hand.

Of course the girl on the other side of the call almost screeched and you jumped in fear at the sudden noise.

He was talking to Max, and he introduced you two through video call, which made your heart pound loudly in your chest, because the feelings for Billy escalated in ways you didn’t think they would. But it wasn’t just you, Billy had been smitten by you the moment you rejected him the first time ever a month ago at your office. He was never one for formal relationships, exclusive ones maybe once or twice which didn’t work out in the end.

But there was something about you that he couldn’t quite let go of, he almost seemed obsessed. He was afraid of being that clingy to you, but after date number eleven he gave up on the feeling and made himself exclusive to you, even if you didn’t know it. He didn’t want to be with anyone else but you, and it had scared him, it still does, but it was the first time he felt as if someone understood him.

When you had asked him a week ago if he slept with other girls, he had told you that he didn’t. That he hasn’t slept with anyone but you because he simply couldn’t. Your heart melted at his words, and how could you not believe him? If you two didn’t see each other, it was on video call or messaging, or at work. There wasn’t a single time where Billy didn’t answer you for more than one hour.

You know it’s excessive, and it’s too much, and maybe you are making a fantasy in your head, but you truly did end up liking Billy. He told you about his past, about his father and how he abused him physically and mentally, which he had to go to therapy for. He told you about his mother, her ashes being thrown in the Californian beach where she always took him surfing. 

His favorite color is Red. His music taste is rock. His favorite movie is Terminator. His comfort movie, funny enough, is Shrek 2. His favorite food is Fettuccine Alfredo. His favorite dessert is dark chocolate. His favorite band is Scorpions. His favorite song is ‘You give love a bad name’ by Bon Jovi. 

And as you knew these little facts about himself, he knew little facts about you, which he always remembered, and always made it known that he remembered. He got you Pínk roses once, your favorite flowers. He got you some strawberries and whipped cream, your favorite dessert. He got you a mascara from Dior because you had told him once you were running out of it.

All those small things, details, doings, made you fall for him. It wasn’t just because it was physical, and you knew that falling for a Model wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but it was impossible not to. You weren’t public yet, and you really didn’t mind that, and it’s not like you two are anything, because he never really asked. 

But today, right now, when you’re laying on his chest with the bedsheets over your naked bodies while he is propped up on some pillows against the headboard, laughing because of the situation from yesterday with Max, something felt right, like a puzzle coming together.

“Hey Sweets… I gotta ask you something.” He suddenly says and you look up with a playful smile on your face.

“Oh, danger.” You replied and he chuckled, but you noticed that behind his laughter there was a glint of nervousness, which made your teasing evaporate, replaced by worry.

“It’s not bad… It’s just– I really like you. I never felt this for someone else, and I have never been in a relationship before, so I don’t know how it really works– I mean, I did have relationships before, it’s just, they never worked out, or I didn’t like the person or I just didn’t connect with them…” He was rambling, but a smile was forming on your lips, and you bit the inside of your bottom lip to forbid it from going wider. 

“And what are you trying to say here, Mr. Hargrove?” You ask him, in a low voice, your eyes already looking up at him with adoration in them, heart beating fast in your chest as he looked down at you, with a smile on his lips, shaking his head slightly.

“You know what being called Mr. Hargrove does to me.” He says before pulling you on top of him with a grunt and you squeal from the movement, still giggling as you look up at him. He brushed some hair off your face, putting it behind your ear. “I want you to be mine. I want us to properly date Sweets.” 

You could feel his heart hammering in his chest and yours was at his same pace. Your smile had dropped but because of the surprise, not because you weren’t happy. You were exhilarated, wanting to jump from excitement and yell it to the whole world that you are dating him, that he is yours and you were his… But–

“You’re famous, I’m… I’m nothing. What will the people that follow you say?” He shakes his head, his arms around you to keep you on top of him, not letting you go. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, he wasn’t going to miss this chance when he finally found someone he could be himself with, or was beginning to.

“I will fight every single one that goes after you. Whatever they say it’s because they don’t know you like I do… Sweets, I want you to meet my sister properly, my friends… I mean, I talk about you enough already, and they’re getting impatient to meet you.” He chuckles and your eyes widened at his confession, heat spreading on your cheeks as you looked down at him. 

“You talk about me?” 

“Almost every single day.” 

Oh your heart melted at that. Your brain short circuited. It’s been too long since you felt this kind of desire towards you, this want to have a future with you, and you almost teared up at his words. You had shut yourself for a whole year, began dating random dudes, and somehow you landed on Billy, who you thought was going to be a simple hook up, but he ended up being so much more than that.

You are afraid. Terrified actually. You don’t know if your ideals stand in the same place as his, but you won’t know unless you take the leap, and follow your feelings in this very second. You leaned down and pressed your lips against his softly, and the both of you closed your eyes to enjoy the tender kiss. After a few seconds you pulled away with a smile on your face.

“Okay…” His eyes widened in surprise, a wide grin spreading in his lips, teeth showing and all.

“I can call you my girlfriend now?” Your cheeks flush again at the name, feeling like a teenage girl all over again as you nod and he immediately turns you both completely, another squeal coming out of your lips as he lays you down on the other side of the bed, bouncing from the sudden force as he kisses you on the lips, still smiling as he does so.

You really cannot wait to tell everyone today at Nancy’s party. 

You parked your car a block away from Nancy’s apartment building, which was actually huge, walking quickly with her gift bag in one hand. You bought her a nice pink blouse that she was groaning about not having for a while now.

You saw the lobby door almost closing, rushing towards it to get through, walking inside and then past the couches to catch onto an elevator. The doors were almost shutting so you dipped your arm in between the doors with a ‘sorry’ and stepped in, only for your mood to drop in a second as you saw who was in the small space with you. 

“Jeez, you could have gotten the next one Peach.” That horrible voice says to you with venom behind his words. Of all the people you had to share an elevator with, Munson was certainly not at the top of the list.

“I am already late, and so are you.” You say and press on Nancy’s floor, which was the 7th. He rolled his eyes as you stood next to him, holding the bag in front of you as the elevator bounced slightly and started moving. Your heart was hammering with pure hatred, just standing next to this man was getting your hairs to stand, like a cat that is about to defend itself.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” He suddenly says and you frown, completely confused and looked up at him, but you found him looking at your bag. You looked down on it, and backed up at him. 

“What’s wrong with my gift?” He shoots a glare your way, pulling the same bag, from the same store from his side. Your breath got stuck in your throat as dread from possibly getting the same thing settles in. “Is it a–”

“Pink Blouse.” 

You both groaned loudly, anger filling your chest from him getting the same thing for Nancy. At least there’s a ticket that she can use to exchange it for something else, but now your gift is not unique anymore, you made sure, talking with everyone about what they will gift Nancy, just so your gift wouldn’t match with anyone else’s… Except.

“This is what I get for not wanting to talk to you?” You say on the low, almost mumbling to yourself, but he heard it, loud and clear, a smug grin appearing on his lips.

“Oh, are you regretting not getting on my good side now?” He says and you make a face of disgust, looking up at him, shaking your head.

“The last thing I want is that, I mean you probably don’t even have one.” He chuckles at that response to hide how irritating you were to him. He wanted out of the elevator, he couldn’t handle standing next to you when all he could feel was just how happy you were. You were almost excited from what he could guess from your features, but he didn’t know why.

“I do, you’re just not special enough to see it, Peach.” He replies with venom in his tone, surprising you from how that hit your dignity a bit. You know you aren’t special to him, just to him, and that’s fine. Still, it fucking hurt.

“Okay, now that’s–” Suddenly the Elevator bounced aggressively, signaling a stop, but the lights went out, turning the emergency ones on. They weren’t as bright, but it was something. Your eyes widened, looking at the digital number that should appear at the top of the elevator, but it was black. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” Eddie yells, pressing desperately onto the ‘open doors’ button repeatedly and then the help button. 

You cannot believe this. Someone from a higher power really hated you. It despised you, because there is no way, no possible way that you are now stuck in an elevator with Eddie Munson. You took your phone out, seeing one bar of signal, calling Nancy immediately as the nerves in your body started taking over. You aren’t claustrophobic, but staying inside four walls with your sworn enemy was not your idea for a party.

“Hey–” You didn’t even let her finish her words.

“Nance we’re stuck in the elevator!” You say to her, as quickly as you can because you don’t know if the signal will stay on for too long.

“We?”

“Munson and I.” You say with spite which Eddie noticed, rolling his eyes how disgusted you sounded saying his surname. He was still pressing onto the open doors button, hoping that it’ll make the energy return or something.

“No…. Power… Called–” And the line cut off. You groaned loudly, stomping your foot in anger as you looked at your phone to now see there was no signal. 

“What did she say?” Eddie asks, still looking at the elevator console and you glared at him and then his hand, pressing the buttons nonstop.

“Power outage, so you can fucking cut that out.” He stops, only to turn his head to glare at you. You almost never fully insulted him, but when you did, his anger boiled. You were spoiled, a brat, a liar, a bad friend. Friends do not keep secrets to each other, and you are filled with them.

“Come on Peach, insult me more. Turns me on.” He replies and you fake smile at him, flipping him off before sitting down on the floor of the elevator. You grabbed your bag and you took a hard candy out, a honey one. You always chew on something when you are nervous, and being in this closed space with someone you despise was not helping the knot in your belly.

He sighed heavily, the anger swirling in his chest as he looked down at you for a second and looked back at the buttons. There wasn’t much he could do but wait now, he is not strong enough to rip the doors open, so he decides to sit in front of you, resting himself against the wall, legs spread in front of him, next to yours. All he wanted and needed was a couple of beers today. He needed the distraction from the week’s turmoil of events. Wayne’s medical bills started going up, and he had to work extra the past week to cover most of it, while saving some money for himself.

You were looking up towards the emergency light, swirling the candy around in your mouth, making some clinking sounds against your teeth every time it went from one side to the other. Eddie was glaring at you as the annoyance grew in his body, his eye twitching as you continued your movements without caring if you were being loud or nasty about it.

“Can you eat candy like a normal person?” He spats and your eyes shoot towards him, a confused frown in your face. “You’re making too much noise, cut it out.”

Oh you were now glaring back. You cannot even have a candy in peace with him, and you were debating if to spit it out, harshly, towards his forehead. For the past month, the bickering had gone down between the two of you, and that was because you spent your time with Billy more than anything, or at work. 

“What, you’re going to tell me how to eat candy now? Jesus christ.” You really don’t understand what his problem is, and if you had to be stuck in this elevator with him for the next few minutes, you were sure you were going to murder him if he kept this attitude up until then. Someone would open those doors, and just find you covered in Eddie’s blood. 

“It was just a comment, respect the other person that’s in the same stuck space as you.” At those words you almost choked on your candy, and you bit it down to swallow it and laugh, which Eddie knew was sarcastic, making him squint his eyes at you.

“I’m sorry, you talking about respect is funny.” You say with a smirk on your lips as you look back down at him. He was looking at you incredulously as his hands started to heat up from the rage that was slowly building up.

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh come on, you and respect don’t go hand in hand. One day Munson you will admit you’re a self entitled prick that only cares about himself.” And that’s where you were wrong, but you didn’t know that, and Eddie’s blood was boiling at your words. Who do you think you are? You don’t even know him, yet you are insulting him, freely.

“You don’t even fucking know me Peach, and you’re not even worth knowing about my life.” That made something in your chest snap. For some reason, those words cut harder into you than any other insult he could ever throw at you. You didn’t notice that your eyes had teared up at the word, and Eddie simply looked at you with a mocking grin to his face. “Aw, are you going to cry? I can’t believe you actually have feelings.”

“Shut up–”

“I just don’t get it, how Robin trusts you so much, all this while. I don’t understand the rest either, but especially Robin. I mean, you really aren’t that special–” His words were pure stabs into your body, your breathing becoming heavy as he talked, and your emotions were beginning to spill over the edge of the glass. You hadn’t heard or thought of those words for a long while, and here he was, in just mere seconds reminding you about them, letting them brand into your skin again, over the scabs that built up over the last year.

“Shut the fuck up– I–”

“Oh, so you are crying now? After insulting me? Why, can’t take it like I take all of your fucking names and comments?” He all but growls. He was pissed, glaring at you with anger shown on his features. He didn’t care that there were tears running down your face, he didn’t care about your feelings, he didn’t care if this was hurting you, just like you never cared about him either.

You couldn’t take it any more, the tears falling, trying to regain your breathing, but your anger, your nerves, your despair, and your past was hunting your brain. It was making you slightly dizzy, lightheaded, and your mouth was responding for you now, no longer processing the words coming out of it. You slammed your hands on the floor of the elevator, glaring at him through a tear stained face.

“Why the FUCK do you hate me so much!? You don’t know SHIT about me, so I don’t understand why you’re like this!” You almost yell at him, your voice already getting strained by the emotions you swore you put inside that box long ago. Eddie scoffed at that, yet matched your energy as he leaned forward, pointing at you.

“Right back at you! You don’t know me! At fucking all! But the difference between you and me, Peach, is that everyone else in the group knows me, knows about me, knows about my past. And you? NO ONE knows shit about you. Not just me.” You roll your eyes at that with a scoff as your heart pounded into your chest, going wild at the process of his words.

“It’s because it’s no one's business! Can’t you fucking get that?! I am not lying about anything, I’m just keeping my past to myself! I’m harming no one!” You exclaim at him, your hands gripping onto the hard floor of the elevator and he shakes his head, giving a sarcastic laugh of his own, which made your brain snap once.

“That’s what you fucking think! You think that Robin doesn’t give a shit about that side of you, but she told you every single thing about herself, yet you act like you’re some mysterious chick that came out of nowhere just for what? Attention? For people to discuss about your past life and for you to feel fucking important?” 

Your brain snapped two, three times.

“Stop–” You begged, you were begging, not being able to handle the emotions any longer, and you needed peace, you needed silence, you needed him to stop stabbing you, hurting you, making you remember.

“So who is the self entitled prick here? Huh? Look into the fucking mirror for once, and come to the actual fact that you’re an attention seeking whore–”

And then, it cracked.

“What the fuck do you want me to say!? That I’m a divorced woman that went through three fertility treatments in the lapse of three months, with a husband that was cheating on me through that?! Is that what you want to fucking hear Munson!? Is that what everyone in this fucking group wants to know or just you?!” 

Silence. The small space fell into complete silence. His stretched legs next to yours, facing one another as your chest heaved up and down. He was stunned in his place, not fully processing your words because it couldn’t be. You couldn’t have gone through that, you didn’t show it… That’s when Robin’s words came into his mind: Just because she hides her past, doesn’t make her a liar.

And now, he felt the cold sweat of guilt, washing all over his body, all the way to his feet. His heart had slowed down, thanks to the shock of those words, and he was feeling like vomiting right now as the knots in his stomach appeared, trying to pry his stomach open, ripping it apart. You fell silent, slow tears still rolling down your cheeks as you rested against the wall again, and you looked up at the emergency light.

The box had opened. Everything you sealed up, everything you worked for a year to keep inside of you, inside of your head, to maybe erase it, to erase the pain, to erase the treason, to erase it all. Your mother had told you that someday you would explode. She had suggested a therapist, but you never listened, because you thought you were strong enough. That you were strong enough to deal with the pain and with the memory by yourself.

By leaving.

“I was–”

“You don’t have to…” Eddie stops you immediately. He didn’t do this for you to confess your past, or maybe he did, but he never expected this, and now he was regretting every single word that came out of his mouth throughout this whole year towards you. You glared up at him through your tears, talking to him in the coldest tone he ever heard coming from you.

“You wanted it, now you listen.” He felt fear towards you, but not because he was afraid of you, but from what you might have experienced. “Do you know… how the fertility treatment for a female Beta works?”

“So you just sign here, and he signs here, and then the treatment will start for the both of you.” Camila says with a smile to her face as she points at the contact that was on the table. You squeal in excitement while holding your husband’s hand, Henry, as he smiles at you and kisses your knuckles. You grabbed the pen and signed the contract, your husband signing afterwards.

“I can’t believe it’s happening…” You say, smiling towards Henry, your husband of three years, friend from school, boyfriend in college. Getting together with Henry felt like destiny, after the two of you were assigned on a project together at college after not seeing him for over a year. 

And now, you two had signed to start the fertility treatment on the both of you to have your first child. It was something you two knew since you started dating that it would happen, and that you wanted it, you both wanted it. You looked up at Camila, your lawyer and your best friend since middle school. She had a big smile on her face, giving you a nod.

“I’m so excited to be an aunt!” She squealed and you giggled while Henry shook his head at the both of you with a chuckle of his own. You heard about the procedure of fertility treatment for females, and it has 99.7% efficiency. You also heard about the pain that it would bring, but it couldn’t be that bad, would it?

–

GET IT OUT. GET IT OUT. GET IT OUT. GET IT OUT.

Those were your only thoughts as you bit and screamed onto the towel that was given to you, while you were put in a sitting position on the procedure chair, like a Gynecologist's, and your thighs were strapped onto its supports, keeping your legs open, not letting you move away either. 

The procedure consisted of a long small tube that held a very needle inside. That tube is inserted into the vaginal canal, piercing through the uterus breech until it gets to a fallopian tube. Then the needle would start poking the treatment into the organ, reactivating the fertility process on the eggs that are inside the ovaries. 

But the large bendable tube, ripping through your uterus, feeling it going into your fallopian tube, without anesthesia, was too much. Too much to handle. You didn’t expect this to be this painful, because the male Betas had it easier. They had injections done on their ball sack, giving fertility to the sperm inside for a limited period of time. 

The tears were running down your eyes as you clenched them tightly, feeling the sharp needle starting the process now, and you just wanted it to be over. It was going to be all worth it in the end, you will have a beautiful baby, the one thing you’ve always wanted. You always dreamt of a big family, and Henry promised you just that. 

The pain might be unbearable, but if it meant you could have more kids with Henry, you would go through it again.

–

Your eyes were wide, glossed over from the incoming tears as you saw the pregnancy test in your hand. You did everything right, the procedure, the postures, the aftercares, just everything…

And it didn’t take.

It might take some time, more than a month after the treatment, but the next day after the failed test, your bedding had been stained with your blood. You almost screamed with a sob, covering your face with your hands as you looked down at your splayed legs and the blotch of blood that was in between them. 

Your husband immediately shot up from his sleeping state, looking at your figure and then down at the bed. He shook his head, gulping heavily as he pulled you into an embrace, trying to soothe you down, brushing your hair softly.

“It’s okay baby… It wasn’t 100% efficient, we knew that… It’s okay, nothing’s wrong, you did nothing wrong.” 

Those words filled your empty heart, accepting the fact that the treatment did not work this time.

“Next time, it’ll work…” You softly mumble against his neck and his eyes widen slightly, looking down at you.

“You want to try again?” He asks and you nod, your spirit not backing down from that family you always wanted. He nods at you and presses his lips against your head. “I’ll prepare a warm bath for you, okay?” You sniffle, looking back down at the puddle of blood on the sheets and that is probably sipping through them and onto the mattress.

It’s okay, next time it’ll take. 

–

You were sobbing as you sat in Camila’s toilet, feeling the blotches of blood falling down as your best friend was trying to wipe your face with concern being drawn on her eyebrows. The four pregnancy tests were all over the sink, and then it suddenly happened, and you had to pull your pants down to see blood had started leaking down from you. 

“Sweetheart, shh, don’t cry…” 

“I don’t get it! I did everything right! I even rechecked myself, and I am healthy, and ready for a baby, and he did the studies on himself too and there’s nothing wrong with us!” You almost screamed as you felt more blood running down into the toilet, the sobs ripping out of your chest at the failed conception, once again.

“Maybe the third time’s the charm? Like the saying?” She was trying to put humor in the situation, but you had told her about the insufferable pain you went through. Going through that two times, the appointment being just one month after the last one, was almost traumatizing. 

“I don’t know if I can handle a third… Not only because of the pain, but because of seeing that single line again, and then feeling my blood coming down… I don’t want to feel that again!” Camila grabbed your face in between her hands and she gave you a slow nod, with a warm smile on her face.

“You are so strong, I know you can do this, and Henry is waiting for it to happen… Nothing is wrong with you both, maybe the timing was wrong… This time it’ll happen.”

And those words helped you clean yourself that evening and already book another appointment. Third time’s the charm.

It has to be.

–

“Please, please, give me a break, I can’t do this again, please!” You yelled while laying on the hospital’s bed, your upper body propped up with each foot hooked into some metal pedals in each corner of the bed to keep your legs spread.

The doctor pulled away, looking up from in between your legs with pity eyes and shook her head.

“We can’t stop the process sweetheart, a pause can cause an alteration and we’re already more than halfway there! I promise!” You were processing what she was saying, with tears streaming down your cheeks, your bottom lip busted open from biting onto it way too hard to control your cries. The pain was unbearable, feeling like you were being split open, your insides being ripped apart. 

But you wanted this. You both wanted this. Something is wrong with you, it has to be. There’s no other explanation for it, no matter if the doctors ran a bunch of tests on you and said everything should really be fine, you didn’t believe that. Something was not working, but you really wanted this. 

So you nodded for your doctor to proceed, and the pain worsened from there.

But that day, you got out of the appointment earlier than expected because another person decided to not show up. So you decided to surprise your husband and head over to his clinic, where he was getting his appointment done at this very moment with a smile on your face, fighting against the pain that was in your uterus and in between your legs.

Parking your car in the lot, you got out with a wince to go towards the clinic’s doors, and head over to the receptionist with a smile to your face.

“Hello! I’m here because my husband is having fertility treatment?” You say with a chirp to your voice and the blonde girl at the desk smiled at you with a nod.

“Can you give me the name?”

“Henry Creel.” She nods and types something on her computer, a small frown appearing on her face as she looks up at you.

“There is no one by that name for a fertility treatment today.” You tilted your hair to the side, completely confused because you swore you heard him say it was today. Maybe you had heard wrong but there was already a storm inside your stomach, your instincts kicking in.

“O-Oh, then, is it tomorrow?” You ask and the lady had a sad frown on her face, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“There were no fertility treatments done to a man named Henry Creel. Ever. He is not in our system…” 

You were frozen in place. It couldn’t be, this was the clinic, you were sure of it. He told you that it was close to yours many times, that’s why he always picked you up after your treatment, taking care of you, buckling you into the passenger’s seat as he went home with you.

You didn’t even reply to the woman, despite her calling out to you, and you immediately darted towards your car. You needed to get home, you needed to check the contract to see if the clinic was another one, because that must be it. He signed the contract so the fertility treatment has to be done.

You raced home, stepped on the gas like never before, your head spiraling as you reached your house and the knots in your stomach appeared. Your eyes widened when you saw a very familiar car at the front of your home, so you shut your own car off a little bit further so you could go inside silently.

Your heart was pounding into your chest as your mind was telling you to not go inside your home, despite you already opening the door, and walking inside, only to be hit with the sound of moaning, groaning, breathless sighs coming from upstairs. From your room. 

You started heading up, silently, thinking that this is a nightmare, that this is not real, that this was just some random people that barged into your home to have sex, because it couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t.

But when you opened the door, it all became real. Your husband looked at you, his movements stopping completely, his eyes widening at the sight of you. Then your eyes darted to the person below him, the person who was clawing her nails onto his back.

Camila.

“The contract was fake. He never went to any of his appointments, not once, and I suffered three times… Three.” Your tears never stopped, your eyes never leaving the emergency light at the top of the elevator. “They both cheered me on… Knowing how painful it was, knowing I could end up traumatized by it… while they fucked behind my back… The only two people I ever trusted, fully, in my whole life.”

Eddie was speechless, looking down at his feet with a pained frown in his eyebrows. His jaw was clenching from the anger of what you went through, of what they did to you, and because he was holding in the lump in his throat from the guilt that was brewing in his mind and his heart. 

He now understood why you didn’t want to talk about your past, and it wasn’t because you were hiding, but because you wanted to start fresh. You wanted those memories gone, and he just got them out of your mouth, when you probably haven’t talked about them for the last year. He just made you spill that part of yourself that you tried so hard to conceal, and he did it in the most spiteful way.

In a way he doesn’t think he will forgive himself for.

“I–”

“Now do you understand why I don’t trust easily? Or are you still going to act like a self-entitled prick?” Eddie’s eyes shot up to see you no longer glaring at him, but with a much more pained look on your face. He was the last person you wanted to know about your past, about your pain, about your memories, and he got them out of you inside a stuck elevator. 

Silence filled the air again as you both looked at eachother. Pained nothingness in your eyes while Eddie’s was filled with pained guilt. He clenched his jaw again, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tried to clear it up a bit to try to talk again.

“I-I know this… won’t do–” He cut himself to bite his top lip and looked away from you but you could catch his eyes turning glossy, making you listen to him closely. “I’m sorry… for everything.”

You stared at him, for a long while. You were angry, pissed, enraged by the fact that the man in front of you tormented you for a whole year and even got your past out of your mouth, yet… There was a sense of relief now. Not with him, but within yourself. As if you had held your breath for too long and you could finally sigh it out.

“I don’t accept it.” You reply to him and he simply nods, still looking away from you. You looked down at your hands, feeling slightly defeated by him. You couldn’t help but feel weak now, feel completely vulnerable after giving him your story, which he probably will tell Robin about. Will she hate you for hiding it from her? Will everyone else think you are some poor girl that needs saving?

A shadow casted over you, making you frown slightly, turning your head up to see that Eddie had moved, now kneeling in front of you, looking at you with eyes that now could see you for who you were. 

Strong.

“Finish it.”

“What?” You were baffled by his sudden words, frowning up at him.

“Finish what you intended that night. The night you tackled me.” Your eyes widened at that request, shaking your head slightly, looking at him as if he had gone crazy.

“What are you saying?”

“I deserve it and more. Finish what you intended that night.” He was opening himself up for you to take your anger out on him. You felt your whole body heat up, a burning sensation going towards your fingertips, and your chest flushing with the wave of anger exploding inside of it. You immediately kneeled in front of him and sent your right hand flying against his left cheek.

His head swung to the side, stinging him from the blow, but he couldn’t be mad. In fact, he knew he deserved it, and he deserved it that night. He now understands how hard it must have been for you to go on all those dates after what you went through. He now understands how hard it was for you to open up your heart again. He now understands that despite it all, you do tell Robin stuff, pouring yourself out to her.

He now understands. He now respects you, completely, entirely.

Your tears ran down your cheeks as you took a deep breath in and swung your other hand towards his right cheek, making his head swing to the other side now. Your hands were burning and stinging from the blows, but it had helped. It helped so much because Eddie Munson didn’t look like someone who would let himself be hit or be disrespected without consequences, yet he was giving himself out to you for you to hurt him. 

To make him feel, how you felt whenever he said the word Worth.

Because that’s how you felt when it happened. Were you that worthless that they didn’t care about you? Were you not worthy enough to find love? Were you not worthy enough to find a family? Were you that worthless?

You were about to hit him again when realization hit you, your hand stopping mid air. But Robin… She loved you unconditionally, opened her arms for you despite you building walls around you. Jonathan had cared for you, even after rejecting him, and became a friend without any awkwardness between you two. Steve, Nancy and Argyle, they never once questioned you, never once left you aside or made you feel unwelcome.

They do that, despite your walls. 

Do you deserve that?

Eddie was looking at your expression, your eyes darting back and forth as thoughts processed in your head. He could feel your uneasiness, your sadness, your pain, your uncertainty, but there was one thing he could see in yourself right now, and he wasn’t going to let you think about it, not for a single second. 

“You’re not worthless.”

Your eyes widened and your head shot up to ask him how he could read your mind but then you were both thrown to the ground as the elevator started moving again, abruptly, shaking itself as it went up. Your hands had to grip his biceps for support and he had his own arms on your waist, pulling the both of you up from the ground. He held you until you could stabilize yourself and then pulled away from you. He clenched and unclenched his fists without much thought as he looked at you.

“You okay?” He asked and you looked up at him, seeing his reddened face because of your slaps and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the sight. He blinked as if you were insane and kept his eyes on you.

“I-I’m sorry, I just don’t know how we will explain our state to everyone else.” You say, knowing your makeup was running down your face, your nose was stuffed, your eyes were red from crying… He chuckles with you as the elevator dings that you both got into Nancy’s floor. He grabbed the bags, the same present, but from different people, and he handed one to you. 

“We’ll think of something, Peach.” 

As you stepped out of the elevator, you know something shifted at that step. It was as if you left something inside there, someone else, and it was time for it to go. Something has definitely changed, inside of you, and probably with the way you are with everyone else. And that’s when you came to a decision, because if you didn’t move on now, you never will.

Next thing tomorrow, you’ll tell Robin everything.

End of chapter 10

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A/N: As I mentioned, THIS STORY IS A NON TRADITIONAL OMEGAVERSE, most of the lore is created in my own head.

Taglist: @enam3l @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch @emma77645 @fictionalcomforts @hellv1ra @sarcastically-defensive17 @lodeddiperrodrick @corrodedcoffincumslut @peea90 @sidthedollface2 @elegantkoalapaper @ghost-proofbaby @take-everything-you-can @lalisas2 @luciferiorbxtch

[f10werfae]

The Build Up

Pairing: Husband!Construction!Chris x Wife!Reader

Warnings: none really

Summary: Nothing better than a visit on site by the missus, and a lot of domestic chris!

part 2: The Build Up Pt2

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

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Chris Evans Masterlist✨

Taglist Form: So you don’t miss any of my posts!🌸

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Chris' P.O.V)

The scorching sun was horrific, sending waves of sweat and stench to our construction site. Loads of us men having to strip down to the likes of our white vests, our reflective vests long forgotten.

“Oi Chris, when do we get to meet this missus of yours?” John called from the other side of the house we were working on, a new A lister client.

“When I want ya to” I chuckled back, watching him shake his head before going back to nailing parts together, the other guys laughing along with a rag or two being thrown at me.

“Yeah literally all we know is that her name is Y/n, and that’s because her names on your chest dude” Logan commented gesturing to the ink on my chest, positioned right above where my heart would be.

Shaking my head, I just continued on shovelling gravel into the ground before levelling out, trying not to let the heat get to me.

“Look all ya need to know is that m'a happily married man alright?”

“Yes sir”

Despite the harsh weather, I knew i’d never trade my job in. The pay was good, the hours are negotiable, what else could I really settle for? Not to mention it saves me from having to go to the gym three or four times a week.

So lost in thought I didn’t even realise my phone in my back pocket had started going off, setting down my shovel by the brick wall I answered it.

“Baby, i’m here” I heard that sweet honey-like voice of hers say, a smile instantly flying onto my face when I heard her words of endearment. The guys wiggling her eyebrows at me once they saw the smile on my face, they musta caught onto who was on the phone.

“Where abouts are ya precious?” I tried to say as quietly as possible, not wanting to attract attention to it.

“Mmm I’m by the street light on the right, you forgot your lunch again hun” With that motherly scolding voice of hers, I felt myself cower a little before turning to the right, seeing her gorgeous self there. Graced in a short flowly blue floral summer dress, I instantly felt myself swoon, the baby stroller sitting right beside her.

“Gotta go boys, I won’t be long” I breathed out leaving my equipment, walking down the street, my steps getting faster the closer I got.

Y/n's arms outstretched inviting me in for a hug,

“Baby I stink, and i’m sweaty. I don’t know if you’d wanna hug me right now” I said stepping back a little, a pout forming on those kissable lips of hers.

“I don’t care, I wanna hug from my husband”

“Alright c'mere” I growled pulling her in by her hand, her arms going around my neck as I encircled around her waist. Her sweet vanilla scent taking away the industrial smell of the site.

“Didn' I tell ya not to come here? The fumes aren’t good for you or the kids” I scolded back, my hands going to settle on her visible rounded stomach housing our second baby,

“I know, but I missed you, and so did Noah” She said in a smaller voice, turning around to pick up our 1 year old, his hands stuffed in his mouth.

“There’s my little man” I beamed taking him into my arms, his face overlooking my shoulder as I brought Y/n in closer, my lips catching her in a soft passionate kiss. Only separating when we heard the men behind us cheering, giggles leaving us both as our foreheads rested against each others.

“You better get home early, you know what this does to me”

She whispered against my lips, her hands trailing down my chest in the white vest, her hands resting on the surface of my stomach, kisses being pressed into my chest.

“gah you need to stop bein so distracting, thought you were gonna be good this time?” I teased settling Noah back into his stroller, my hands going to cup my beautiful wife's face, her pregnancy glow making her even more irresistible.

“Sorry baby, but baby here jus missed his daddy” She teased biting her lip a little,

“Oh but he’s not the only one now is he?”

“Hmm nope. Not my fault you look so handsome all built up like this, you look like such a good daddy”

“Is that right?” I whispered, her nose nuzzling against mine

“Oi Chris, you gonna introduce us or what?” I heard Logan say behind us, rolling my eyes I turned around to see the whole lot of them lookin at us.

“Y/n honey, meet the boys, boys this is my wife Y/n and our son Noah”

“Cute. So how did yall meet? There’s no way this sweaty mess of a man just met a soft n'elegant woman like yourself outta nowhere”

“Chris didn’t tell you guys how we met?” Y/n asked curiously, knowing damn well that’s my go to story every time we meet someone new.

With all of them shaking my head she started off with,

“Well before Chris had his own construction company, he actually freelanced around my hometown fixin stuff for whoever. I had come home from college and I was like 22, to see this hunk fixin one of my ma's broken windows. Trust me I was in shock, but then I found out he was a bit older. But that didn’t stop us, did it Chrissy?”

“Chrissy?” Steven snorted

“Shut up Steven if you wanna job tomorrow” I snarked back, my ears feeling warmer at the embarrassment.

“Okay but we wanna know the whole story” Logan said pushing further,

“How about y’all come over to our house tomorrow night for dinner? we'd love to have ya, and i’ll tell ya how we got together” Y/n said happily, god she was so caring and welcoming.

“Is that alright with you boss” I heard someone call out from behind.

“yeah, anything to make the wife happy”

[seungkwansphd]

bite me

pairing: jeonghan x reader wordcount: 6.1k summary: no relationship is all sunshine and roses, of course, but you and jeonghan are both unpleasantly surprised at how easy it is to second guess things and slip into your old ways. it doesn’t help that nobody at work can seem to mind their own goddamn business! genre/themes: angst, fluff, smut, mostly plot, they fight and they’re both petty, wee bit of smut/makeup sex. dad!cheol, dad!dk, college friend!joshua, jeonghan w/ kids. part of the ‘we get along infamously’-verse

A/N: i have a feeling y’all are not gonna like this as much as parts 1 & 2, BUT I already wrote it LOL. but i do love seeing our main characters progress through their relationship!

also thank you @wavelikewhat​ for your input because that first draft was TRASH GARBAGE :|

    You swallowed as you walked into the office, hand clasped in Jeonghan’s. There was no reason to be so nervous, you tried to reason with yourself. You had filed the paperwork with HR and everything had been processed, so legally you were in the clear. Facing the inevitable prying, teasing, and snooping, however, was a different story altogether. You had spent a lot of time curating your dislike for Jeonghan in the office and it felt…embarrassing to admit that it had largely been a ruse.

“Ready?” Jeonghan squeezed your hand with an encouraging smile.

“No,” you grimaced at him, “But yes. It has to happen sometime.”

    Jeonghan laughed, pulling you in for a soft kiss on the head before letting you lead the way. Surprisingly, you didn’t run into anyone on the way up, so you let yourself lean into your boyfriend as you rode the elevator. You had to admit, it was nice to be able to be close in this way.

“Quiet today,” you remarked, walking towards your work area. Usually you had seen at least one person that you knew by now.

“Seems so,” Jeonghan shrugged. “I wonder if-”

“Congratulations!” a few voices rang out as you rounded the final corner to your cubicles.

“Ya, when were you going to tell me?!” Seungkwan’s voice cut through the well wishes as you saw his beet red face pop out above a cubicle divider.

“Congratulations?” Boram asked, their face clearly showing that they were out of the loop.

“YN and Jeonghan are dating!” Miseon filled them in quickly, letting out an excited giggle.

“Oh? OH!!” Boram stood up straight, clasping their hands against their chest as they gasped loudly. “My mom and dad have reconciled! It’s a Parent Trap miracle!”

Jeonghan glanced at you, holding back a smile. Everyone else was so shocked by Boram’s comments that many just turned back to their work. Seungkwan, however, was incorrigible.

“I’m not kidding, why didn’t you tell me?!” he demanded, approaching you with his index finger outstretched like a scolding teacher.

“Because I figured it would be like this!” you whisper-shouted back at him.

“We’re doing lunch today, I’m putting it in your calendar,” Seungkwan decided before storming off.

“I guess I’m busy for lunch today,” you chuckled to Jeonghan before moving towards your desk.

“Talk to you later,” he smiled, hooking his pinky into yours and squeezing before leaving for his own desk.

…

“I don’t even know where I want to start with questions, so just spill!” Seungkwan insisted before taking a sip of his lemonade.

“There’s not much to spill,” you grimaced, “We started hooking up a few months ago…and we never stopped.”

“Okay but hooking up is hooking up. Filing your 0526-15 is another thing altogether! I thought you hated him!”

“I did,” you chuckled, “But he’s actually kind of sweet.”

    Seungkwan clearly didn’t believe you, but the server came so he wasn’t able to say anything more for now.

“So help me understand one more time, how are you two even compatible? You’re so…you. And he is so HIM!”

“Those are meaningless statements,” you chuckled, even though you kind of understood where he was coming from. “I mean, I agree that on paper it doesn’t make the most sense, but it feels like an ‘opposites attract’ kind of situation.”

“I don’t know,” Seungkwan narrowed one eye at you, clearly skeptical. “He’s so conniving and argumentative. And selfish! Decidedly not boyfriend material!”

    You pursed your lips, considering his words. It wasn’t like Seungkwan was wrong. In fact a lot of these descriptors of Jeonghan were ones that you had used yourself, enthusiastically, in the past. You wondered if you had really reached a new understanding with your former nemesis or if it was, in fact, just due to the dopamine and whatnot that Minghao had mentioned before.

“I trust your judgment, I suppose. It’s just odd to see you two together after all of your endless bickering and fighting,” Seungkwan said reluctantly.

“I get that,” you nodded, “If things go south, you can beat him up for me. How does that sound?”

“Acceptable,” Seungkwan nodded firmly, reaching his hand out to seal the deal.

…

“How was lunch with Mr. Boo?” Jeonghan asked as you rode the subway together.

“Very interesting,” you laughed sarcastically, “Apparently you’re all sorts of wrong for me,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Oh?” Jeonghan raised a brow. He played it cool, but he couldn’t deny the string of worry that drew tight in his chest.

“Yeah, apparently you’re ‘conniving and untrustworthy and decidedly not boyfriend material’,” you quoted Seungkwan with a laugh. He really did have a natural talent for melodramatics. You turned to the LED display, watching as the stops flashed by, so you completely missed the crinkle that flashed across Jeonghan’s brow.

    Jeonghan pulled on a quick smile when you looked back at him, but the cluster of worries did not leave his mind. He could easily count, on one hand, the total number of serious relationships he had been in and the bulk of those had been during his college years. To say he was out of practice at being a boyfriend, and a good one at that, was probably a major understatement.

“Any thoughts about dinner?” you interrupted his thoughts as the subway drew closer to Jeonghan’s apartment. “If you haven’t done any shopping since I was last at your place, then the fridge is probably still pretty sparse.”

“I…have not,” Jeonghan admitted.

“Shall we stop somewhere for food on the way home? Japanese? Chicken katsu curry sounds good, for some reason.”

“Mm,” Jeonghan shook his head, “I kind of just want to head home. Maybe let’s grab something at the convenience store and just cook?”

“Okay!” you shrugged before stepping out of the subway car and heading above ground. You instinctively reached for Jeonghan’s hand, but he was already several steps ahead of you, mind seemingly elsewhere. Furrowing your brows, you tried to shake it off and moved quickly to catch up.

“I think I have everything at home for kimchi jjigae except pork and tofu,” Jeonghan thought aloud as his fingers reached for a block of firm tofu.

“Rice? Should I grab some instant?” you asked, eager to eat sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, whatever’s fastest,” he nodded.

“Of course!” you nodded.

“Okay, let’s go, I’m so hungry!” Jeonghan said excitedly, grabbing your hand and leading you into a light jog. You groaned internally, but you were also hungry so you matched his pace.

…

“Jeonghan, I’m surprised,” Director Bae said, suddenly. “In the past, if a process performer had missed a deadline like this, I’d probably be talking you down from demanding their termination. You seem rather…calm about the whole thing.”

“Yes, well,” Jeonghan furrowed his brow. It was true that Miseon had come in slightly late on her deadline, but after discussing with you, you had made the very good point that her tasks were not on the critical path and it wouldn’t push back the overall timeline.

“You’re not losing your edge, are you? I know dating can make the mind soft and jumbled. Especially considering who you’re dating,” he looked at Jeonghan pointedly. Director Bae didn’t have to complete his thought out loud because everyone in the office knew he considered you to be on the soft side, when it came to management style.

“How do you mean?” Jeonghan asked, temper flaring.

“I was quite surprised when I was informed that you and YN had filed a 0526-16. You’re so different from each other,” the director continued cluelessly, “You remind me so much of my younger self. I hope you don’t let this relationship dull your ambition.”

    Jeonghan fumed. Surely this thrice divorced man was not trying to give him relationship advice? Jeonghan managed to keep a lid on his temper until he reached the elevator, but only barely. After a few frustrated, but restrained, punches to the elevator keypad he was forced to wait through the consequent, unplanned stops at different levels. By the time he was back on his floor his anger had quieted significantly, but the slight pinch in his brows was still noticeable to you.

[yn]: ‘you ok? did the 1:1 go poorly?’

[jeonghan]: ‘he felt i was being too lenient with miseon…among other things’

[yn]: ‘??’

[jeonghan]: ‘i’ll share later’

    Pursing your lips, you wondered what had happened with Director Bae that could’ve upset Jeonghan like this. He was the golden boy, after all, so it was very rare for Bae to give Jeonghan negative feedback of any kind. And as you had discussed with Jeonghan, Miseon’s missed deadline was not on the critical path, so there wasn’t any need to overreact just for the sake of overreacting.

“So what happened during your 1:1 with Bae?” you asked after you had both taken your seats in the cafeteria.

“Well, he was surprised that I wasn’t more upset about Miseon missing her deadline,” he reiterated before taking a bite of his lunch.

“But it’s not on the critical path,” you mumbled through a mouthful of rice. You were starting to feel like a parrot with how many times you’d repeated those exact words over the last three days.

“Yes, of course! But then he implied that I was going soft…,” Jeonghan waffled, not sure whether he wanted to share this specific piece of the conversation, “Because of you.”

“Me?” your eyes widened slightly.

“He said ‘relationships make your brain soft and mushy’, or something like that,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, his temper threatening to flare up again as he recalled his director’s baseless implication.

“He’s worried that because I’m not an asshole, I’m going to turn you into less of an asshole?” you laughed, trying to play it off by rolling your eyes, “Also considering how many times that man has been married unsuccessfully, I don’t know how much I’d listen to him.”

“I know,” Jeonghan nodded, but was clearly still dwelling on the conversation.

“I think you’re fine, Hannie,” you tried to encourage him, “Bae has a short attention span. Plus you’re his work son, so I wouldn’t worry too much.

    Jeonghan nodded. He wasn’t actually worried about any fallout at work. Work son was an accurate description of how Director Bae thought of him and Jeonghan knew he could probably genuinely get away with murder before his director ever did anything about it. No, the thing that was eating at him was hearing again and again that he wasn’t a good fit for you. He didn’t think they were right, but he was starting to wonder if the others could see something that he couldn’t.

    You watched as Jeonghan thought intently. You didn’t think this comment from Director Bae was anything to get that worked up over, but you also had quite a different relationship with your director. You had established long ago that you didn’t care for or want to play the office politics game and were quite happy to let your work speak for itself. Jeonghan had always been different in this regard and you worried about how much he might take Bae’s comment to heart.

…

“It’s probably not a good thing if your girlfriend calls you an asshole, right?” Jeonghan suddenly blurted out in the middle of beers with his college roommate.

“What?!” Joshua’s neck almost snapped at the force with which he turned to look at Jeonghan.

“I mean, she wasn’t calling me an asshole, but she implied that my management style is asshole-ish,” Jeonghan rushed to clarify.

“Oh. Well…she’s right, isn’t she?” Joshua laughed out loud. He had worked with Jeonghan on enough group projects in college to recall that asshole was probably actually a little kind. “No offense to you, my evil twin, but you are kind of difficult to work with in a professional setting. You’re very particular and have a tendency to overreact when things don’t go according to your impossibly detailed plans.”

“Do you think I should be with someone more like myself?” Jeonghan asked.

“Hard to say,” Joshua answered thoughtfully, “There are benefits to both being with someone like you and being with someone who complements you, so who’s to say? Plus, you haven’t let any of us meet her yet, so I don’t really know how you two are together. Which, I need to ask, are we so horrible that you don’t want her to meet any of us?”

“No, I just…wasn’t sure if we were quite there yet.”

“Knowing you, you probably are,” Joshua rolled his eyes, “Bring her to Nari’s birthday party! Most, if not all, of the gang is going to be there!”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Jeonghan mused, “Yeah I’ll invite her.”

“I’m full of good ideas, you should listen to me more often,” Joshua raised his brows at Jeonghan with a self-satisfied grin.

…

“Wait, what?” you furrowed your brows at Jeonghan, wondering if you’d misheard him.

“I can’t go, I told you I have basketball league this Friday,” he repeated himself.

“You can’t skip…your recreational basketball league? For a concert? It’s my favorite group!”

“I mean, I could, but…I don’t want to,” Jeonghan finished weakly. He knew he sounded like a jerk, but they were playing the team that he had the most beef with and he had been looking forward to taking them down a peg all week.

“I-,” you opened your mouth just to close it again. “Okay,” you finally spoke again after a few moments of tense silence.

    Jeonghan rubbed his eyes, knowing that it wasn’t actually okay but not knowing what exactly he could do about it. He wasn’t going to miss this week’s game.

“I know this is a bad time to ask, but are you free in 2 weeks? My friends are having a birthday party for their daughter and they want to meet you.”

    Your lips creased together. His friends wanted to meet you. Not Jeonghan wanted you to meet his friends.

“I might be busy, I’ll have to check,” you replied curtly. You knew you were being petty, but you couldn’t help yourself. To take second place to a fully optional basketball game, of all things! Maybe Seungkwan was right, maybe Jeonghan was too self centered.

…

“No Jeonghan?” Seungkwan asked when you met him outside of the concert venue, alone.

“No, he’s busy,” you sniffed as you pulled up the ticket barcodes on your phone.

“Doing what?”

“Basketball league,” you rolled your eyes, offering your phone to the bouncer to scan.

“Basketball league?!” Seungkwan half-shrieked. “Is that a good reason to not go to this concert with you? Isn’t this your favorite group?”

“You and I agree, apparently,” you laughed at your friend, happy that you weren’t alone on your side of the issue. “I told him all that, but he said he didn’t want to skip his game.”

“Tch! I told you, he’s selfish!” Seungkwan shook a finger at you as you approached the bar. You shrugged as you squeezed yourself between two people to order drinks. Today you were inclined to agree.

“Hel-lo,” the man to your left gave you an obvious once over as you hailed the bartender’s attention.

“Ew. What?” you asked, patience thinner than usual for all men, let alone strange men.

“I’d love to buy you a drink,” he suggested smoothly.

“And why is that?” you decided to entertain him for a moment or two.

“Cause you look great in that dress and I’d love to see more.”

“Oh my god, ew! No,” you turned away from him curtly, a mildly horrified look on your face. You were grateful that your beer and Seungkwan’s cocktail arrived shortly after and you were able to scuttle away from this man and his giant chain necklace.

“Now there’s a man,” Seungkwan whistled appreciatively as you returned.

“That guy?!” you were surprised to see him looking back in the direction you came from. “Ew, he’s so cheesy!”

“He’s hot though,” Seungkwan shrugged.

“Aren’t you happily dating Seyoon?”

“I still have eyes,” he insisted stubbornly.

…

“Hey YN?” Jeonghan leaned in his office chair towards you, hoping for some quick feedback. “YN?” he tried again when you didn’t respond the first time.

“What?” you answered, but didn’t turn to face him.

“Do you have five minutes to help me review something?”

“Yes,” you replied, taking a few seconds to finish up what you had been working on. “What is it?” you turned to him, your expression concerning placid.

“Ah, um, can you proofread this problem statement for me?”

    Pointedly avoiding his eye contact, you rolled over to read the text on his computer screen. You wondered why he had asked you, problem statements were almost canned. Couldn’t he do this himself?

“Looks fine,” you almost rolled your eyes at him before returning to your desk.

    Jeonghan sighed inwardly as you returned to your desk. Your cold shoulder was painfully reminiscent of the way your relationship had been in the past. While he knew that no relationship was all sunshine and roses, he was surprised to be back on the receiving end of such intensely prickly and dismissive behavior over something he felt was relatively minor.

[jeonghan]: ‘do you want to have dinner together today?’

[yn]: ‘can’t. have plans.’

    Boram and Miseon exchanged looks. It had been a tense day in the office for their little team. You and Jeonghan were doing your best not to impact interactions with the rest of the teams, but even a person without eyes or ears could tell that you were fighting.

[boram]: ‘mom & dad are fighting :(’

[miseon]: ‘i still think it’s weird that you call them that. but agree :( 0/10. don’t recommend’

…

“How’s things?” Minghao asked good naturedly during your dinner.

“Not so good, I think,” you answered after giving it some thought.

“No?”

“Jeonghan and I are fighting,” you stated simply.

“Oh, really?” Minghao raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I feel like he’s being selfish and I’m not sure we’re actually good together,” you mused, chewing on an artichoke heart.

“Now what makes you say that?” Minghao asked sharply. Now he really felt like you were being irrational.

“I asked him to come to a concert with me last weekend and he said no because he couldn’t miss his basketball league.” you rolled your eyes. “Everyone at work keeps saying we’re not a match anyways, maybe they’re right.”

“Who?” Minghao’s eye twitched. Despite all of your disagreements and incompatibilities, you and Jeonghan had harbored a mutual interest and respect for each other since before Jeonghan had even been hired.

“Seungkwan. Bae,” you shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. “I guess Bae told him that he thinks being with me will dull his ambition because I’m not enough of a cutthroat. Maybe things were easier when we were just hooking up.”

    Minghao thought about this for a moment. It was true that Jeonghan had ambition in his career, with goals to become team leader within the next couple of years, but at the same time everyone knew that Director Bae was a bit of a goof with a tendency to speak without thinking at times.

“Are you thinking all of this because you think it’d be easier to go back to hooking up?”

“Maybe,” you grimaced at him, still moody. “It would be easier in some regards.”

    Minghao tried to form his next sentences carefully. He knew that pushing too hard would have the opposite of the desired effect, but was also concerned that your natural tendency for holding grudges posed a very real possibility of ending the relationship prematurely.

“Do you want to stop dating him now, then? That is an option,” he probed.

    You thought for a long moment before shaking your head and admitting, “No.”

“Is this continued silent treatment productive, then?”

“No,” you repeated yourself. You felt like a scolded child because that’s exactly what you were. Yet you knew that Minghao wasn’t wrong and it was time to communicate like an adult. “This is all your fault to begin with!” you narrowed your eyes at your friend. All that dopamine nonsense.

    Before you could change your mind, you pulled your phone to let Jeonghan know that you would attend Nari’s birthday party. Immediately afterwards, you had to let Seungkwan know you were rescheduling, which was infinitely more unpleasant.

…

“I’m nervous to meet your friends!” you hopped in place to release some of your pent up energy as you waited for someone to open the front door.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. You did know. Even though you had moved your plans with Seungkwan to be able to attend Nari’s birthday party, things were still slightly tense with Jeonghan. You wanted to put on a good face and make a good impression, but you knew you had one of the worst poker faces out there and it would likely be obvious that you were fighting.

“It’ll be fine,” Jeonghan shrugged. His hands were in his pockets, so he couldn’t give you the encouraging squeeze that he wanted to. He still wasn’t even sure whether you’d tolerate hand holding at all.

“Uncle Hannie!” a delighted squeal accompanied the fast moving blur that hurtled at you through the now open door.

“Nari!” Jeonghan managed to catch her, swinging her around with delight.

“Uncle Hannie, I missed you!” the young girl looked at Jeonghan seriously.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jeonghan apologized furiously as he carried her into the house.

“Are you my Auntie YN?” Nari peeked over Jeonghan’s shoulder at you suddenly.

“A-ah, well,” Jeonghan stuttered, unsure how to answer .

“Yes!” you cut him off swiftly, squatting to match Nari’s eye level. “Nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” she nodded expediently before asking to be let down.

“Help, she’s so cute,” you grabbed Jeonghan’s shoulder as Nari ran to rejoin the herd of children.

“Very,” he agreed before moving to greet the group of adults. “Friends!”

“Jeonghan!” several men stood up to greet him and you excitedly.

“You must be YN!” a tall man with a dazzling smile shook your hand vigorously. “I’m Seokmin. Welcome to our home and thank you so much for coming! We’re so excited to meet you.”

“Ah, so you’re Nari’s dad!”

“Guilty as charged,” he laughed, full and loud. “My beautiful wife, Hana, is here somewhere too.”

“I wasn’t sure whether I believed Jeonghan when he said you were coming,” a second voice chimed in. You looked over to see a broad man with a catlike smile. “I’m Joshua. Glad I was able to bully Jeonghan into letting us finally meet you.”

“Oh?” you chuckled, only slightly bitter. So some people could talk Jeonghan into doing things he didn’t want to do. Noted.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan scowled before calling to someone else, “Cheol, get over here!”

“Trying!” a sturdy man replied as he tried to free himself from the group of children clamoring for more piggyback rides. “Someone else needs to take a turn!”

    You were surprised when Jeonghan moved, proactively, to take his place and even more surprised at the delighted chorus of ‘Uncle Hannie’s that came from the children’s mouths. Seeing Jeonghan happily giving out piggyback rides was doing something very unexpected to you.

“Hey, I’m Seungcheol. Or Cheol, as they generally call me,” the man made his way over to greet you.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, eyes flitting back to Jeonghan every so often.

“He’s great with kids, isn’t he?” Cheol grinned at the way you were watching his friend with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah, I guess I’m kind of surprised?” you had to admit.

“You know him from work, right?”

    You nodded.

“You might already know this, but work Jeonghan and life Jeonghan can be pretty different.” “I am learning that,” you smiled at Seungcheol.

“Did you know that he’s Nari’s godfather?”

“No!” you gasped, a smile lighting across your lips as you recalled her bright greeting from earlier. “It seems like I know nothing about Jeonghan, doesn’t it? I promise, we are actually dating,” you laughed nervously.

“How long have you two been together now?”

“Actually dating? It’s been about three months, I think?”

“Ah, well that makes sense then,” Seungcheol nodded to himself. “Jeonghan is, for lack of a better word, emotionally constipated. And what I mean by that is that it’s unusual for him to talk about things that are serious. And he overthinks a lot.”

“Ah, I see,” you nodded. It was true, you and Jeonghan didn’t have a lot of particularly serious conversations, but up until recently that had been a feature and not a defect.

“We are really glad he brought you! And despite what Josh said, Jeonghan doesn’t actually do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

    You smiled. You liked Seungcheol.

“Miss YN!” a pair of small hands tugged at the hem of your shirt insistently, “Please come with me!”

“Ah? Sure, but first what is your name please?”

“Doyun! That is my dad,” the boy pointed matter of factly at Seungcheol, “And that is my mom!” his finger moved to point at Danbi, Seungcheol’s wife.

    You nodded and gestured for him to lead you. You were pulled towards the pile of children around Jeonghan and before long you were also giving out piggyback rides of your own.

“Miss YN, why are you dating my Uncle Hannie?” Nari asked suddenly. You glanced around and were glad to see that Jeonghan was out of earshot.

“Hmm, that’s a tricky question,” you chuckled, “I suppose we like each other a bit.”

“Why?”

“Hmm. Well, he is very smart. And funny. He can be annoying sometimes, but mostly he’s nice to me and we like doing things together.”

“Hm.” Nari nodded, giving very little indication what she thought of your feedback. “He can be so annoying sometimes, I agree!”

    You laughed at the enthusiasm of her statement before asking her to share exactly what types of things Jeonghan did that irritated her so.

“Cute,” Joshua smiled as he stood with Jeonghan, watching you laugh with Nari.

    Jeonghan nodded. He was relieved that you seemed to be enjoying yourself. It had always felt too early to ask whether you wanted kids or a large family, but today was making him increasingly more curious.

“Does she want kids?” Joshua asked, as if reading his friend’s mind.

“I don’t know, actually. We haven’t discussed.”

“You should probably ask. That’s kind of a big deal for you,” Joshua’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“We’re having difficulty communicating in general, lately,” Jeonghan finally admitted, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well. I hope you figure it out soon, because I like her. Maybe even more than I like you,” Joshua couldn’t help but tease.

“YN, I hope you know that we will be leveraging you for babysitting now that we know how great you are with kids!” Seokmin joked after the children eventually lost interest in you and Jeonghan. “I don’t know why Jeonghan has been keeping you hidden from us for so long!”

“Same! Same, us too for babysitting!” Seungcheol’s wife, Danbi chimed in excitedly. “Doyun has never been too keen on Jeonghan, but he really seems to like you!”

    Jeonghan scowled playfully and you had to laugh.

“Uncle Hannie? Can you help me fix my hair?” Nari materialized at Jeonghan’s side. Your chest squeezed as you watched him make quick work of redoing her left braid. Who knew Yoon Jeonghan could be so domestic?

…

“I have something to say,” you sighed begrudgingly as you slipped off your shoes.

“Me too,” Jeonghan turned to you, “You go first, though.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you. I was frustrated that you didn’t want to go to the concert with me and it hurt my feelings. I should’ve talked it out with you sooner.”

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve tried to explain why that game was important to me. I want to do things with you, but I also want to be able to do my things alone at times too.”

“No, I totally agree,” you nodded.

    Jeonghan sighed, a huge wave of relief washing over him when you smiled at him for what felt like the first time in over a week.

“I also have something else to confess,” you admitted, playfully this time, as you tugged at the front of Jeonghan’s shirt.

“What’s that?” he leaned in, the scent of his mint gum teasing your nose.

“I have a big crush on ‘Uncle Hannie’,” you raised your eyebrows playfully at him.

“Oh really?” his left brow quirked up with interest.

“I-...,” you made a face, slightly embarrassed to say what you were thinking, “Seeing you with Nari is like…sexy in a soft way.”

“YN…are you losing your edge?” Jeonghan teased, fingertips digging into your hips just slightly.

“Maybe,” you couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact.

“Or do you have a breeding kink that you never shared with me?” he prodded shamelessly.

“Jeonghan!” you gasped, pushing him instinctively, “How can you say that so casually!”

“I mean…you’re way nastier than this, sometimes,” he couldn’t help but tease. He was relieved that he could still fluster you like this.

“Go away!” you pushed at him, ears turning impossibly redder. Jeonghan held you in place firmly.

“Do you want kids?” Jeonghan inquired gently, leaning in to trail soft kisses along your jawline from your earlobe to your chin. “Eventually,” he clarified.

“...Yes, eventually,” your breath hitched as he nibbled down your neck. “Do you?”

“Yes,” he answered easily. He had always wanted kids.

“Hmm,” you hummed, but it came out more like a desperate whine because Jeonghan had decided to suck gently at the hollow of your throat.

“My god, your sounds,” he groaned appreciatively as he kissed you.

“Ha-Hannie,” you swallowed, tugging him towards the bedroom.

“Uncle Hannie?” he baited you.

“Hnn,” you exhaled shallowly, “So soft. Giving piggyback rides, slicing cake, fixing pigtails,” you mused as you climbed over him.

    Jeonghan’s eyes flashed at you. Realizing that you were so clearly aroused over such domestic things made his heart pound and listening to you say it in that breathy voice while straddling him was undoing him. And quickly.

“Careful, babe, your malewife Jeonghan kink is showing,” he teased, but he didn’t hate it.

    You flashed him a catlike grin, rolling your hips as you unbuttoned his shirt leisurely. He groaned, his erection pressing insistently against you. Your hands stroked across his chest as you pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and you trailed soft kisses down the center of his torso until you arrived at the waistband of his slacks. Your tongue toyed with the corner of your lips as you undid the button and zipper of his fly at a painfully slow pace. Jeonghan hissed at your teasing before you finally pulled him out.

“Ride me,” he requested, not interested in any delay today.

“Now?” you asked, surprised. Jeonghan was not one to turn down a blowjob.

“Up here, now,” he beckoned with two fingers. Who were you to say no? You undressed quickly before climbing over him again.

“So eager?” you grinned, shifting yourself along his length.

“I’m not the only one, it seems,” he remarked, feeling just how wet you were.

    You flushed, but couldn’t deny it, so instead you reached down and slid him between your wet lips. Pressing up on your knees, you worked your hips up and down slowly, only about halfway. Jeonghan tolerated it for a short while before he grew impatient.

“All of it, princess,” he coaxed, placing his left hand around the back of your neck and pulling your gaze to meet his.

    You clenched at the soft firmness of his tone, lowering yourself a little further, but not quite all of the way. Jeonghan’s eyes raked over you one time before he scoffed.

“All the way down,” he repeated himself. It was such a slight edge in his voice, but you picked up on it nonetheless and complied, sinking all the way down his shaft until you were flush against him. “Good girl,” he breathed, his right hand gripping your hip as he ground against you rhythmically.

“Jeonghan!” you gasped, brows knit together as you clutched his shoulders for support. You clenched around him as his pelvis pressed against your clit repeatedly.

“So good, so good,” he panted, lifting your hips up just to pull them back down, stroking into you deeply. “I wish you could see yourself,” he whispered up at you, “Taking me so good. All for me.”

“Yours,” you whined, unreasonably turned on at the possessiveness of his words. “All yours, Hannie,” you nodded, walls spasming around him as he continued to press into you, over and over.

“All mine?” he asked breathlessly, blown out pupils fixed on you.

“All yours,” you reiterated, pressing your forehead against his urgently. “Please, Jeonghan,” you begged, “Need you to cum in me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, lips curled up into a half snarl, “My girl is so desperate for my cum?”

“Hannie, yes, please!” you plead desperately with him, “Nee-, need to feel you cum inside of me. God, I’m so close.”

    Jeonghan groaned, hands gripping bruisingly at your hips, but it only served to egg you on. Your desperate sounds mingled with his and in the spur of the moment, Jeonghan bit down on your collarbone, the sharp sensation triggering your and his subsequent orgasms.

“Wow,” you blinked, gathering yourself as you both came to your senses.

    Jeonghan pulled you tight against him as he nodded in agreement. His thoughts were a jumble after the day. Seeing how you fit in with his long time friends and their kids had cemented the fact that he did see himself with you for the long term. After your earlier words, he thought maybe you felt the same way, but he wanted to be sure.

“Do you see us together for a while?” he murmured softly against the top of your head.

“Hm?” your eyes widened at the sudden change in mood. “I…yeah, I do,” you answered honestly. “Do you?”

“Yes,” he replied almost before you even finished asking. “I really like who I am with you. You make me more patient and kinder. Everyone at work kept saying we’re not a match, so I just wanted to make sure that you like who you are with me too.”

    Tears pricked at your eyes. You were speechless at his confession.

“Is that why you’ve been distant?” you asked as the new information started to fill in the gaps.

“Oh, I guess so?” he pursed his lips, “But you were being difficult too!”

“I know,” you sank under the covers slightly, ashamed of your own behavior. “I’m not very good at apologizing. I had to have a sidebar with Minghao and everything.”

“Oh? And what advice did he give?” Jeonghan found himself wondering. Minghao was still something of an enigma to him.

“He told me I could break up with you if I wanted,” you smiled at him bemusedly, “Because he knew I didn’t want to. And then told me to be an adult about it.”

“That…sounds about right,” Jeonghan chuckled. It didn’t really help clear anything up at all about where Minghao stood on him.

“He is a Jeonghan stan,” you laughed. “He really is on your team.”

“Equally likely that he hated me more than Seungkwan does,” Jeonghan joked, a sense of relief washing over him.

“Apparently you’ve been obsessed with me since before you even got hired,” you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. “‘If possible, could I review a copy of the current internal solve?’’” you quoted the email that Minghao had shared with you.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a violation of HR policy to share that with you,” Jeonghan glanced away, blushing.

“I was curious about you then, too, if you must know.”

Jeonghan gave you a confused look so you explained.

“After your interview, Bae would not shut up about how you solved my problem with less code. I asked Minghao to get me a copy of your solution because I needed to know how.”

Jeonghan’s expression changed to look at you in a way that knocked the air from your lungs.

“You know, l think I love you?” he blurted out suddenly.

“I might love you too, Jeonghan,” you grinned before snuggling back into him.

“Wait, so what did you think of my solution?” he couldn’t help but ask.

“Acceptable, but not nearly as good as mine,” you answered honestly. A laugh escaped Jeonghan’s lips. He had to agree.

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.VII

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o. SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: slight abuse, mentions of dead people

Lenght : 5k

Notes: I’m praying that you like the series, because it’s getting closer to the end. Leave a comment to make me understand how it’s going, luv u <3

NA'VI WORDS: TANHI: Star; YAWNE Beloved; SA'NUTSYIP: Lil mama; KIFKE: World; TSMUKE: Sister

Character Cast: NEY'NARI: Your dead sister; IKEYNI: Your Mother; TSENTEY: Your Father; YÌMKXA: Your Ikran; ULEYTE: Your bestie; TUL'PEY: Your future Mate

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

Neteyam…" your hand reached his outstretched arm, which at your touch relaxed with an unimaginable speed. "I know, I don’t have to be jealous. He’s still your promised, but I’d rather not see you two like this" He sighed frustrated and then looked at your hand on him "We’re a mated couple, it takes time. I can’t say anything for sure yet, you know?" "I understand, MA Tanhi. Take all the time you need, I’m in no hurry. Not with you, not for you." he said kissing your hand.

"Neteyam, if you continue like this, I swear I'll take back everything I said and send you back where you came from." You said as you took your hand off Neteyam’s lips, seeing how a smile formed on his lips. "You’d miss me too much, Ma Tanhi," he said as he took your hand again, weaving your fingers. You whispered something he didn’t understand and his head bent to the side amused him. "What did you say?" "Nothing you can understand" You replied laughing as you continued your walk, without taking your hand off the warm and welcoming boy. "You don’t understand me now either" he said in the language called 'English', which to you Na'vi was unknown. Your confused expression made the boy laugh. "It's not fair, you understand Na'vi. I don’t know the language of demons." Your tone was slightly offended and cold. "Don’t you know it? So I could say anything without you understanding me?" His playful voice made you think he was joking with you, which is why you hit his chest with your hand. "Speak Na'vi. I don’t understand you!" Neteyam’s hand landed on your side and approached him laughing. "You're beautiful as the sunset painted with purple shades, which embraces the sky and makes the stars shine. A work of art that steals breath and enchants souls." He said, smiling softly as he brought his forehead back to yours.

"I hate you." You said offended, standing by him, then being taken back into Neteyam’s arms. "What did you say? If you have offended me I swear that you'll be the next meal of Yìmkxa." Your hissing made the boy smile more, who took the hand that was woven to his and kissed your wrist. "I said you’re as beautiful as stubborn" he replied, chuckling, getting hit by your hand again. "I’m not stupid. Does that long sentence mean 'you’re as beautiful as stubborn'?" You spent the next twenty minutes trying to understand what Neteyam was saying to you in that strange language that you didn’t know was just sweet words coming from the heart. He enjoyed seeing you angry, even if you hit him repeatedly with anger, he thought you were just raving while pouting and hurting, following you away from him. "No. Don’t follow me. I’m angry and you’re bothering me." You snorted, accelerating the pace to distance yourself from him, while he followed you laughing and gently pulling your tail to make you more nervous. "I annoy you, ma Sa'nutsyìp?" He asked, laughing and then picking you up from behind and locking you in his arms, filling you with sweet kisses all over your face, preventing you from answering.

A smile popped up on your lips and you looked at him, failing to keep your anger, softening in his arms, holding only a tender pout. "We must return to the village. I have to visit Tul'pey’s parents and talk to my mother, from what she told me we have visitors tonight," you said and then you took Neteyam’s face off your face. "Tul'pey’s parents? Ahh, I don’t like the idea" he sighed back. " But I know my mother would love you, from what my father told me, she was just like you." "Same as me? Neytiri is a warrior known in the clans of the forest, according to rumors I am not even remotely like her" Neteyam’s eyes looked softly at you while smiling, seeing that now you did not speak with contempt of his family. He was surprised when he didn’t even see a grimace on your face after mentioning his father. "Your stories are the same, she destined for a man she does not love, future Tsahik, who then met a na'vi she despised, to end up falling in love with." His warm voice first struck your heart and then your ears. "And you don’t even know how many things my father had to go through to be with my mother," he continued, laughing, starting to walk towards the village, while your eyes did not detach from his figure, strangely interested in the story he was telling.

"As you know, my father was a dream walker, not a demon like you think. He comes from a planet called Earth, came on Pandora on a mission and then met my mother. She treated him really badly, scolding him and hitting him many times. At first she wanted to kill my father. Then the months passed, my mother taught my father how to live among the Na'vi and he fell in love with this land and her. She was meant for Tsu'Tey, a great warrior of our clan, but she chose my father. Eywa welcomed my father among her children, making him also Toruk Makto, helped him defeat human demons, and blessed my parents' union with me. When I told you my father didn’t want war, I meant it. He loves Pandora and the Na'vi, he is a good person, Eywa made him reborn as true Na'vi and guided his way by giving him children and happiness." He stopped to look you in the eye. "My mother’s house was destroyed like yours, because of the war she lost her sister, her father, her Ikran and Tsu'Tey, but that didn’t stop her from being with my father. They are happy together and heal their wounds day by day. And I would like to be the person who heals your wounds. The Great Mother sent me to this clan to meet you, I know. I hope our story is similar to that of my parents, at least at the end. If you knew my father you would see that he is only a father, a husband and an Olo'eyktan who loves his people, not a demon." "I didn’t know these things…" you whispered awkwardly. "I know. But I want you to meet my family one day. Tuk would love you, she’s my little sister, she loves making friends and she would bond with you. Kiri might stay a bit apart but you would become great friends, she is like a sister to me even though she has no blood connection with me, she is very close to Eywa. You’d like Lo'ak, he’s a world-class troublemaker, he’d probably take you on one of his stunts, but he’s a good brother. My parents already adore you, as far as I know, before the great war my parents visited the clan and wished your mother health for you, you were a few years old, maybe 5." he laughed slightly "I don’t remember well, I was 6 years old at the time. But they loved you, I know because before they brought me here they told me about you. Your mother and mine are very close friends, they fought together during the war, your father is also very close to mine. is the destiny of our families to unite."

At his speech you smiled, then continued to listen to small stories about his family as you returned to the village. Were you amazed at how he talked about the disasters his siblings were doing, or how Jake Sully looked so much like your father in his ways, so much so that for a few minutes it seemed to you only a Na'vi. You even laughed at some stories about his childhood and you warmed your heart at the thought of a small neteyam who took the blame for some problems created by Lo'ak. Your face resting on his chest as he carried you in his arms without any effort, making himself known by you even on his weaknesses and fears. Those minutes were enough to make you slightly change your opinion of the Sullys, even if a part of you wanted to be wary of Neteyam’s words; but his eyes glowed like the stars at night as he spoke, a bit like his smile that left you simply enchanted. His sweet, affectionate tone let you know how sincere he was. Tul'pey, yes, loved his family but you never saw on his face the same love that Neteyam had for his family. He talked about it from time to time, preferring to avoid talking about his parents, because he often quarreled with them for nonsense, so you felt a little coldness from him in this field. But with Neteyam, with him you felt all the warmth he felt for his family, even a little nostalgia for his brothers. Unfortunately when he arrived there were only his parents and you thought he was an only child, but it was not so.

Once you arrived at the village, he laid you down gently, slightly sad to have you no longer in his arms and not to smell you while he spoke. He was happy to know that you were interested in his family, and those times that he looked away from the path and carried it on you, he noticed your focused eyes as you listened without disgust. "Ma Tanhì, I’d talk to you for hours about my family, but unfortunately we’ve arrived," he said, kissing the palm of your hand. " I’ll see you later." "Later? I’m busy until tonight, I don’t think we could see each other." You answered with a vaguely sad tone. "At the cost of seeing you just to wish you good night, I’ll see you. I don’t think I can sleep well if my Kifkey doesn’t wish me goodnight" You laughed and then softly hit his chest because of the dramatic tone he was using. "You’re so dramatic. If you were discovered, my parents would skin you alive and most likely Tul'pey would help them. I’m their only daughter, I don’t think they’d be happy to see me with an Omatikaya, especially the future Olo'eyktan." Neteyam looked at you in silence, with eyes in love, as if he didn’t care about the title or his origins at that time. "I don’t care, your pretty lips said 'yes' to me and I’ll take any risks for you" His eyes fell on your lips and he took a deep breath, then passed his hands through his hair. " Ma Eywa. Why it’s so hard not to kiss you? Go before I kidnap you and take you far away" his dramatic tone returned and you laughed, leaving a kiss on his palm before leaving.

The day passed slowly, the meeting with Tul'pey’s parents had only made you want to cancel the mating even more. They had always been two very strict and pretentious Na'vi, they had a minimum of regard for you only because you were the daughter of the Olo'eykte but it was evident that they preferred your deceased sister to you. During the conversation, there was no lack of comparison between you and your sister about how beautiful, wise and strong she was, a born leader. As if you did not know that she would be the best Olo'eykte between the two, in fact she passed her Iknimaya on the first attempt, had led groups of warriors during the Great War and was also respected by the elders, not for the blood he shared with the present Olo'eykte, but for her great successes. You tried to wear clothes that were too big, it was clear that you were the rebellious sister, the one who preferred to run away at night rather than make boring rites, the one that did not follow all the rules and was always covered by Ney'nari.

Neteyam was very similar to her, his behavior with his brothers was exactly like your sister’s with you. You always felt at fault but your parents did not blame you, rather they tried to direct you on a path closer to your heart, you were not next in line, so your being rebellious was accepted, even if often scolded. When Ney'nari died, you had to take her place, be the golden daughter, the future Olo'eykte, the one who would lead the clan. You weren’t asked if that’s what you wanted, nobody gave you more decision-making rights over your life. The elders used to say, "You’ll be a great Olo'eykte," when your sister’s body was still warm and lying in a tent to be cleaned up by your parents. Freedom had been taken from you, you could no longer be 'y/n, the rebellious daughter', you had to be 'Y/n, the future Olo'eykte". You did not even have time to mourn your sister that you had to start the path from Tsakarem and future Olo'eykte, from one day to another your life had changed radically. Ney'nari brought with her a piece of your person that now Neteyam was bringing back.

You had to hold back tears to the memory of your sister, 'the perfect', while those two spoke to you lightly, as if your wound was not yet open. You had lost your sister for five years now, everyone had passed Ney'nari’s death, but not you. You just wanted her to come back and run away, knowing that she would have your back on this too. But you couldn’t, you carried the burden that they had left on your shoulders at the age of 13. It hurt you to smile and nod when they compared you to her so easily, taking in some unpleasant jokes that only made you knots in your throat. Tul'pey sat by your side towards the end of the meeting, nodding his parents right, you didn’t blame him, you knew that in his heart your sister’s name was engraved. After the infernal hours, you could finally get out of the hut and breathe cold air, taking long breaths not to give in and cry right there.

Tul'pey’s hand landed on your shoulders and looked slightly worried. "Ma yawne, is everything okay?" he said, as if he hadn’t just witnessed your silent ordeal. "Does that sound good to you?" Maybe your tone was more sour than you wanted it to be. "Not for a second did you think about changing the subject? To get your parents to talk about something other than the differences between me and my dead sister?!" "Ma yawne, you know how they are… If they start with something it is difficult for them to change topics. If you felt uncomfortable you could-"you stopped him with a wave of your hand, carrying your cold eyes his. "I could what? They are your parents Tul'pey! Yours! They humiliated me all the time, trying to be nice just because Ikeyni is my mother and they can’t afford to offend me. They said embarrassingly that I was only important to my blood, without even saying it directly. I’ll be your future partner and you won’t even try to take my side." You abruptly removed the boy’s hand from your shoulder, backing indignantly. "You know they were fond of Ney'nari, there is no malice in their words," his voice lowered slightly, turning his face to the side so as not to look you in the eye. "Them? and I don’t? Ney'nari is my blood. My loss is deeper than yours and theirs. That’s no excuse to let your parents insult me like that." Your teeth clenched as you growled your words against Tul'pey

"You don’t know what you’re talking about. I loved your sister, and they loved Ney'nari as much as I did. It makes sense for them to compare you to her." "Logical? Because she was better than me, is that what you want me to understand Tul'pey?" You asked pushing him slightly. "She was… her. And you are you," he said with an obvious knot in his throat, as if it hurt to talk about it. "At least have the courage to tell me what you think in the face." You pushed him again, disappointed by his behavior. "Ma Yawne, she was just… better. You know she was…. But I never blamed you." Your eyes looked disgusted. "It had to be a fault to be less than my sister? right? Do you think I don’t know? I don’t feel the clan’s expectations about me? Look me in the eye when I talk to you Tul'pey te Sxyie Akwey'itan." His eyes finally met yours. "Y/n, stop it. You’re acting like a child, which is why my parents prefer you and compare you to Ney'nari, she-" your hand met his cheek with a violence you had never presented. "How dare you… HOW YOU FUCKING DARE." You said by starting to growl at him and push him back with all the strength you had in your body. " Who do you think you are to address me like this?! Childish? Do you know who you’re talking to? Do you know how much I had to work to cover her absence? And you’re so light on the subject because 'you loved her'." you said mocking him in a derogatory way. "I loved my sister. I’m the one who couldn’t shed tears on her body. I! Not you. Did you love her? Then why weren’t you there when she died! WHERE YOU WERE TUL'PEY WHILE I WAS DRAGGING MY SISTER’S DYING BODY?! Where was 'your love'." Your fiery eyes and your poisoned and sharp tongue, while the boy could only flinch at every push.

"I was always there and only ME in her darkest moments, because you were 'too hurt' or away from her. When you found out about her death, you just ran away and came back at the best moment, you didn’t love me and you didn’t love h-." The flow of words coming out of you stopped when Tul'pey’s hand hit your cheek hard, turning your face to the side. "You’re just a child, y/n. You were with her, but she died anyway. I loved Ney'nari, I loved everything about her. That’s why I agreed to mate with you, not just because Tsahik talked. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t even look at you like that. That doesn’t mean you can now raise your voice and act like this. You are the future Olo'eyktan, but you still have to respect me, it is your duty to respect your mate. So now calm down." Tul'pey’s voice scratched your eardrums as you withdrew tears with all your heart so as not to make you weak in front of him. Na'vi’s body collided with yours, looking down at you. "Please, don’t make me be like this, not with you." he said harshly as he lifted up your face with strength, taking you from your jaw. You spit in his face and then growl, pulling away from him. "Don’t you ever touch me again. Or I swear to Eywa it will be the last thing you do with both hands attached to your body." You spit on the ground before you turn around and take long breaths. Tul'pey looked at you and then wiped his face and punched a tree.

You arrived home after half an hour of taking to release the tension accumulated in your body, you let some tears turn your face while nobody looked at you, taking long breaths. Before entering the hut you settled in in the best way, making sure you didn’t have shiny eyes or signs that could betray the fake smile you would flaunt to your parents, hoping you could deceive their eyes. Once inside you saw too many heads of unknown shoulders, sitting on the carpet and unfamiliar voices exchanging words, you could only distinguish Neteyam because of the perfume that was stored in your nose. Your parents turned and smiled and welcomed you into the middle of that little big circle, you distinguished Jake Sully and Neytiri, which made you accidentally stand at attention. "Ma Neytiri, she’s Y/n. When you arrived I didn’t get to introduce you properly." your mother’s voice was sweet and friendly, while the other Na'vi’s smile seemed strangely comforting as she carried a hand to her forehead and then pointed at you, a gesture you reluctantly reciprocated. "Ma Eywa… now that I see her, she’s become a beautiful young woman. I still remember when she couldn’t even stand up" she said and then laid her hands on your face gently. His touch was similar to that of Neteyam, sweet and attentive, as if she didn’t want to cause you any pain. "Thank you, Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite" Your tone was slightly low, almost blown as you waited for her to take her hands off your face. What she did once she saw your reluctance.

You looked for the eyes of Neteyam that immediately gave you a sense of comfort and security, as if it spurred you to approach Neytiri. You knew he had a stronger connection to her than he did to Jake, and on the one hand he reassured you that he was closer to an original Na'vi. "Ma syulang, only Neytiri. Your mother is a sister to me, no need to be so formal" her eyes were kind as they looked at you, they seemed sincere, but when you looked away and met the eyes of Toruk Makto, a shiver ran through your back. "Ma Jake, you make her uncomfortable when you look at her like that." the woman continued, following your gaze and gently scolding her partner. He greeted you in the same way that Neytiri did just before, and before you reciprocated you had to swallow and once again look for the look of Neteyam, who once again encouraged you in silence to let go. You held your breath and then returned the greeting "Excuse me, I didn’t mean to make the future Olo'eykte uncomfortable" now that he was speaking awkwardly in Na'vi and smiling at you in embarrassment you could start breathing again. You looked at him without feeling disgust or fear, nodding timidly before answering. "There’s no need for Toruk Makto to apologize to me," you whispered slightly embarrassed, while Neytiri watched his partner as if to force him to say something. It made you smile at the resemblance to Neteyam who was doing the same to you. "Jake is ok, call me Jake," he said, looking away and taking him to little Na'vi who was sitting on Neteyam’s lap. "Sorry my husband, he is awkward when he has to talk to the young Na'vi" Neytiri’s voice reassured you, making you nod slightly.

In the first hour there were some discussions between adults, about clans and everyday life, normal talks between friends. You were still reluctant to talk to Jake and preferred to answer Neytiri and her questions about your life; while a game of looks began and continued between you and Neteyam, as if you two could only understand with your eyes. You could see that from time to time a Na'vi like Neteyam, but with five fingers, hit him slightly and seemed to tease him. "Ma Tsmuke, you remember when we wanted Neteyam and y/n to be a mated couple?" Your mother said laughing as Neytiri followed her laugh and nodded. You instinctively blushed, choking on the water you were drinking, looking away from Neteyam to bring it to your mother, embarrassed by those words. "Ma Ikeyni, how to forget. She would have been a perfect Tsahik for Neteyam. Too bad the winds have changed" Neytiri admitted, remembering when you and Neteyam were so young that you didn’t even remember your mothers' wishes. You could feel the boy’s look on you, imagining he was smiling amused by the situation. "I… I’m going to get more Spartan fruit," you said noting that the tray was finished. "Neteyam, please go with her, to bring drink too," said your mother, looking at the boy who promptly nodded and followed you out of the hut.

You stood in silence as you walked toward him in the great hut that served as a storehouse for village food. Neteyam followed you inside and once you closed the curtain, you blushed feeling his warm hands on your hips behind you, only to feel his lips leaving small kisses on your neck. "Neteyam…" you whispered laughing, putting your hands on his. " Come on, stop. This is a common hut, anyone could come in…" you bit your lip, hearing a small groan from Neteyam. "I’m just letting you relax, you’re so tense, ma Tanhi. What’s going on?" His sweet voice made you shiver down your spine, because of his hot breath colliding on your skin. His hands held you still attached to his body, while he continued with the sweet kisses that made you relax slightly. "Hmm, nothing 'Teyam… just a little stress" you whispered back, feeling his smile against your skin. "I like 'Teyam, call me that more often like this, ma Tanhi" You turned around and found yourself face to face with Neteyam. "Why stress? you were fine before I let you go away." one of his hands moved between your hair, stroking the soft braids. "Heavy meeting with Tul'pey’s parents, nothing special." Your eyes met and he smiled softly, most likely he understood that there was something you were not telling him, but he respected your choice without making you weigh anything.

"Then… It’s a sign that you got along with my mother and a little with my father" You rolled your eyes, making him laugh as he laid his hands on your face and his tail wrapped around your leg. "Your father speaks Na'vi in a strange way, he makes a lot of mistakes and I don’t understand when he speaks that strange language" you replied, making him laugh. "He does his best to make himself understood. If you need an interpreter I’ll sit next to you and translate what you don’t understand" His tone was now slightly mischievous and led you to hit his forehead. "No, I don’t need to understand the language of the d-" you unknowingly stopped to correct "humans" Neteyam moved his hands over your neck while biting his lip, noticing that you no longer used "Demons" to describe his father and his language.

Minutes passed and you found yourself inexplicably sitting on one of the wooden tables of the hut, with Neteyam standing between your legs as you kissed with ardor. His hands fondling and longingly touching your skin, while his tail tickled your leg slowly, making you arch your back against his chest. Your hands between his braids, panting between his lips as you prayed that one of his hands would fall between your legs. Neteyam’s lips fell down your neck, leaving more kisses, refraining from leaving marks that would have sparked unwanted attention for now. You bit your lip while he kept touching you and coming down to your collarbones. Now his fingers were digging into your back, holding you close to him as he felt hard because of your wheezing that hit his ears and made his heart pump blood directly between his legs. His erection pressed against your groin, creating little thrills of pleasure that made you want to hear more.

"Oh. Ma. Eywa. Neteyam?! Y/n?!" The voice of the one you recognized as Lo'ak's had led Neteyam to break away from you, while you blushed down from the table and rearranged yourself as best you could. The boy in front of you looked at you with shock and fun, pointing his finger at each other. "It’s not what it seems!" you said embarrassed and then senitre lo'ak laugh and clap. "To me it looks exactly as it seems" Your eyes sought Neteyam’s help, noticing that he was laughing with his brother. You hit him on the arm trying not to bury yourself in shame. "I now understand those scratches and hickeys," the boy continued. "How fortunate that I came, Tsentey was coming for you." Lo'ak continued to laugh, almost to the point of crying. "Oh ma Eywa, i cant't! And our parents, who were worried about you, thought that something had happened to you, but you two were just-" Neteyam blocked him by closing his mouth before he could say something that made you even more uncomfortable, dragging him out of the hut while you collected the supplies you had come for.

"Not a word with Mother or Father. Not a word," Neteyam said, looking at Lo'ak who continued to laugh amused by the situation. "Now I understand why you said 'you are still learning here', with a teacher like y/n I would also be a perennial student" Neteyam’s hand hit the back of Lo'ak’s head. " Bro, with all the girls in the village you pulled the chief’s daughter, who's also the future Olo'eykte and is already mated. This shit is worse than anything I’ve done in 18 years." Lo'ak continued, looking at his older brother. "I know, I know. But it happened, okay?" Neteyam replied, passing a hand through his hair, understanding what Lo'ak meant by that look. "Does she know?" Lo'ak’s tone became serious for a moment. "No, not yet. I’ll tell her about that when the time comes. " "Our father will skin you alive,bro" said the youngest. " Probably…" The conversation turned to the end.