#it feels familiar like you've been here before it's eerie

[gureumz]

project aphrodite

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

premise: in a post-apocalyptic world, you and jungwon are excellent scientists and are at the relative top of the list of people who are ideal parents for the next generation of this dying world. it's now your job to repopulate this earth so you ask your co-worker to pretty please knock you up.

notes: sci-fi elements, dystopian au, scientist!reader, scientist!jungwon, fem-bodied reader, reader is referred to as a woman, dom!jungwon, breeding, impreg kink (like heavily), dirty talk, platonic (?) breeding, co-workers with benefits (?), idk this is kinda speculative fiction but also suspend your disbelief a bit lol

a/n: first of my 1k follower special! not quite sure what order i'm following here but i hope you stay for the ride nonetheless! enjoy!

it's a strange feeling.

in your line of work, 'strange' is hardly any cause for concern. as a biologist with a concentration in genetics, you've seen all the ways nature does its job. from the familiar concepts almost all people learn about in science class like the basic 'mom-meets-dad-equals-baby' to the eerie methods organisms in the deep sea evolve to survive.

you've learned about it all, pored over each punnett square, stressed over the formulas. so, this shouldn't be anything to worry about.

and yet, you're still worried.

"i mean...what did we expect?" jay speaks up from beside you, eyeing the phone in his hand.

"we're presently some of the world's most brilliant minds so...," he adds, locking his phone before hunching over his desk. to your ears, it sounds as if he's trying to convince himself rather than you.

you scan over the document flashed on your own laptop screen. the harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz nonstop, going on and on, a background hum all of you in the bunker have grown used to. at this moment, it lulls you into a daydream, vision swimming as you repeat the words in your head.

all government personnel with a status level 7 and higher are recommended to partake in project aphrodite. those falling under level 10 are strictly required. participation at this level is compulsory.

common citizens with a status of 9 to 10 are also required to participate. ample compensation for those successful will be provided.

"you're a level 8. it's not as if you have to," you mutter, fingers digging into your temples.

jay snickers. "how many level 10 government personnel are there in this ruined world? a few hundred or so doctors, another few hundred scientists, even fewer world leaders. that's not taking into account the difference in sex. my information's not up to date but last time i checked, there is a hell of a lot more men than there are women. it's a shitshow waiting to happen."

you turn to meet jay's eyes, not meaning to convey any certain emotion, but the way jay's expression falls leads you to believe that you look way more upset than you're letting on.

"oh shit, yeah," jay curses. "you're a level 10. i forgot."

you sigh, tilting your head back against the headrest of your seat.

"i'm sure they'll release more regulation soon," you begin. "this is just the initial memo. with our world hanging in the balance as it is, no one's gonna let this devolve into some patriarchal anarchy, i hope."

"yeah, of course," you hear jay agree. "most of the proponents of project aphrodite are women, anyway, so i'm sure they'll take extra measures to keep you safe."

you sit up straight, looking at jay once more. "this is the world, huh?"

you and jay pause before sharing a quick chuckle.

"'go make babies, or else,'" you say in a mock radio announcer voice. jay lets out a laugh, his voice echoing off the empty office walls.

the two of you fall into silence, as if retreating to your respective thoughts. all that's in your mind at this moment is your current project, the very thing the few people more powerful than you had assigned for you to do: leading your team in stopping that godforsaken virus ravaging the outside. you've been making steady progress so far, but with the weight of this new responsibility, you're not sure if you could keep the momentum up.

you realize with a passing thought that most of the scientists on your team are level 9s and 10s.

"well," you begin before you could stop yourself. you're suddenly overcome with a feeling of suffocation, the office space seemingly too small and continuously growing even smaller.

"i hope you find someone you'd like to procreate with," you say lightly, pushing yourself off your chair. you quickly gather your things: folders and binders and other loose papers in your arms.

you catch jay looking at you, a pensive look on his face. you stop as you're grabbing your reusable coffee jug.

"no," you deadpan. "not me."

jay's eyes widen, as if realizing he'd said something without really saying anything.

"i—no, wait—i mean...," jay stutters, ears quickly turning red.

you smile, patting jay's shoulder reassuringly. "in case you were thinking about it."

jay's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water and you can't help but laugh.

"these are desperate times, but i'm hoping it's not too desperate," you add. without waiting for a response, you turn towards the door, already making your way to it.

"besides, dr. isa lee seems more your type," you say over your shoulder one last time before pushing the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

---

"hey."

you look up from the microscope, tearing your attention away from the specimen you were examining. your eyes readjust to their normal focal length as a tall figure enters the lab, perfectly crisp white coat hanging off his broad shoulders, thin-wired spectacles resting on the bridge of his tall, straight nose. your lips feel strangely parched as he makes direct eye contact with you and you're left with no choice but to moisten them with your tongue.

"oh hi, dr. yang."

the other scientist chuckles, setting down a stack of papers on a desk in the corner. "i've been here for three weeks. please, call me jungwon."

you swallow. "right. jungwon."

dr. jungwon yang was a new import from the seoul bunker, having come to your own area's bunker merely a few weeks prior. he was immediately put under your supervision, an addition to your already elite team of biologists, geneticists, and virologists. off the bat, you could tell he was a man of many talents, coming up with unconventional solutions and arriving at answers quicker than anyone else.

his presence in your lab made your heart swell. in pride, adoration, or desire, you're not quite sure.

"uh, yesterday's results are in that binder over there, in case you want to go over them," you begin. jungwon walks over to your side of the long table, peering over the slide loaded into the microscope.

ignoring the way he brushes ever so slightly against you, you continue. "the director's dropping by later this afternoon, but i wouldn't be too bothered with that. he's just looking for someone to blame for the slow progress at this point. if only they could get us those materials we asked for..."

"have you read the memo?" jungwon asks abruptly, straightening up. he towers over you, his eyes downcast as he stares at your face.

"of course, you've read the memo," jungwon corrects himself, chuckling. "what i meant was...what do you think of it?"

"it's a government-issued memo, it hardly matters what i think," you respond, focusing back on your work in front of you, although all you do is stare blankly at the moving microorganisms, mind unfocused with how much of jungwon's perfume you can smell.

"it's your reproductive health that's on the line. i'm pretty sure your opinion counts for something," jungwon says with a pinch in between his eyebrows.

oh, a feminist. that's even hotter.

"okay, yeah. i appreciate the new guidelines they put out," you admit, looking back up at jungwon. "though it's the bare minimum, i'm glad they're letting us keep the autonomy of choosing who to...boink."

jungwon laughs at that.

"and free fertility drugs for anyone who wants or needs it. oh, also, thank god they didn't have the brilliant idea of putting a time limit on it. having read some crazy speculative fiction myself, the things people are willing to do in fiction are crazy. who's to say they can't do the same in real life?" you continue.

you don't notice the way jungwon's smirk grows as he listens.

"kind of makes the whole thing unsexy, don't you think?" jungwon cuts in, raising an eyebrow. you blink, unsure of what he's talking about.

"i'm surprised they're not monitoring us with cameras and hooking us up to EKGs and shit," he adds.

"oh," you say with a soft giggle, finally catching on. "i'm sure some people are into being watched."

"are you?" jungwon asks.

"am i what?" you answer.

"into being watched."

a pause.

you shake your head. "how about you?"

"oh no," jungwon says. "i prefer to keep what's mine for my eyes only."

"hm. possessive. that's kind of sexy," you mumble under your breath, a sudden surge of confidence coursing through you.

jungwon just stares at you, but you can see his pupils dance in amusement, taking in your whole face and all your features. you might have imagined it but he seemed to have peeked down at your chest for a second.

"do you think it's attractive for someone to be into lego-building? or at least, used to be into it. i'd give an arm and a leg for a complete lego set nowadays," jungwon asks, leaning against the table, and only now do you notice the veins running over the back of his hands.

you think about whether his arms are just as veiny.

"do you think it's a good trait to pass on an offspring? lego-building, i mean," he presses on.

"uh, yeah. good problem-solving skills," you answer, humoring his question.

jungwon nods. "do you think leadership skills are important?"

you smile, leaning against the cabinet opposite jungwon. you nudge his foot lightly. "i lead a team of scientists myself. of course, i think leadership skills are important."

"you and i both," jungwon agrees.

jungwon shifts, placing his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"how about dimples? do you think dimples are cute?" jungwon asks once more, one corner of his mouth upturned. a deep crease on his cheek appears.

a dimple.

"very," you admit.

"i see."

there's a silence that stretches over the two of you, and the weight of uncertainty is daunting as you stare at a spot on jungwon's tie. finally, after a few seconds, you heave a sigh, unable to take the tension any longer.

"this is the weirdest way anyone has ever flirted with me," you declare, looking up at jungwon through your lashes. he's grinning and you nearly shiver at how utterly attractive you're finding him at this moment.

"but it's effective," jungwon says. that was a statement, not a question.

you tilt your head to the side. "how do you know?"

"because you would have blown me off two minutes ago if it wasn't," jungwon reasons, crossing his arms. by doing this, he just made himself appear even wider than he is.

"always so calculated," you say, impressed.

you stretch your neck, easing your head from side to side, watching as jungwon fixes his gaze on the taut tendons of your neck. "are you also this precise in bed, dr. yang?"

jungwon approaches, a large hand resting on your hip. "that's for you to find out."

your breath hitches as you feel his thumb rub through the fabric of your skirt.

"later?" he asks.

"my place or yours?" you reply, fingertips grazing the front of his polo. you can just about feel the slope and ridges of his toned muscles.

"i'd like to be a gentleman, so mine," jungwon offers. "i'll walk you back to your room after."

"i was kind of hoping i wouldn't need to walk back after," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice.

"is that a challenge?" jungwon says, his other hand pressing firmly on your lower back. he pulls you to him and your hands involuntarily reach out towards his shoulders to steady yourself.

a few seconds pass before any of you speak again.

"that's for you to find out," you say.

---

"kind of weird, isn't it?" jungwon asks, panting against your neck.

your back is pressed firmly against one wall of his sleeping quarters, a wide, loft-like room, similar to yours. a luxury offered only to level 10 government personnel, the room gives its occupants enough space and enough privacy.

and boy, did you need privacy.

"what's weird?" you say breathily, fingers threading through jungwon's hair as he kisses down the column of your neck. his fingers nimbly undo the buttons of your blouse and you whimper when you feel him lick at the valley between your breasts.

"coming up to coworkers or friends then asking them to reproduce with you," jungwon responds, tugging your blouse off of your shoulders.

(you both held enough respect for the institution that employed you both, so your work lab coats were neatly thrown over the back of jungwon's couch before anything got too frisky.)

"see, it's the way you say it that makes it weird," you giggle. you pull jungwon back up to your face, kissing him fervently, tongue licking into his mouth.

"oh yeah? how would you say it?" jungwon challenges as he pulls away slightly, his nose grazing your cheek. he licks a stripe on the underside of your jaw.

"please, jungwon," you whimper, playing up the whine in your voice just a little bit. "need you to knock me up. make me pregnant, please."

jungwon grunts in your ear, reaching behind you to rip the zipper of your skirt down. you let the fabric fall to the floor, stepping out of it quickly, revealing the matching red lace panties you had in tandem with your bra.

"yeah? want me to cum inside you so many times that there won't even be the tiniest chance that you're not pregnant?" jungwon says lowly, kneading one of your boobs in his hands.

you nod, hooking a leg around jungwon's hip, pushing your core right up against the bulge in his pants.

"yes," you breathe out, dragging your clothed pussy over his straining cock. "let's be good citizens and have a whole bunch of kids, yeah?"

jungwon chuckles, hands hurriedly working on his belt. you take this time to kiss up his neck, still rutting against him, desperate for any contact.

"come here," jungwon says through gritted teeth as his pants and boxers fall to the floor. he kicks them off unceremoniously, yanking you towards the couch. your eyes briefly catch the flash of white that were your lab coats.

the two of you fall onto the cushiony surface, with jungwon sitting up and you falling a little less gracefully on him. the two of you laugh as you adjust yourself, righting your posture so you could look at jungwon.

"take this off," jungwon commands, pulling at your panties. you swing off jungwon for a moment, pulling off the garment in record time. you reposition yourself over jungwon, his cock standing tall, hard, and painfully red.

"come on, show me how bad you want those kids," jungwon teases, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you roll your eyes. "you gotta help with the diapers."

a second later, you sink down on jungwon, moaning wantonly at how much he stretches you out, filling you up effortlessly. jungwon throws his head back, his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

"i'll quit my fucking job at the lab if this is how good it feels to make babies with you," jungwon groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

you whimper at his words, rocking back and forth on his lap. you angle your hips a certain way, the tip of his cock kissing at just the perfect spot inside you. you shudder, repeating your movement.

"god, you feel amazing," jungwon praises. "so warm, so tight."

"yeah," you respond. you're gliding up and down his cock, swiveling your hips as fast as you can. you clench down around him, the thought of jungwon cumming inside you your only motivation.

"filling me up so good," you add, watching as jungwon screws his eyes shut, neck shiny with sweat.

you move forward, attaching your lips just below jungwon's ear. you suckle on the salty skin, running your tongue over the spot, savoring the way jungwon lets a moan rip out of him.

"gotta let the whole bunker know this one's mine," you whisper as you let up on jungwon's neck. a faint red spot is left in the wake of your lips on his skin.

in a blink of an eye, your whole world tumbles upside down, jungwon's hands forcing you down on the couch by your waist. in a daze, you realize that jungwon has you pinned under him, his eyes wild with a hungry look in them. he pushes your legs right up against your chest, lining himself up with your entrance.

"the moment you start showing, no one in this goddamn bunker will have a single doubt who gave you that baby," jungwon counters, thrusting into you. he gives you no time to adjust, picking up where you left off.

you cry out, trying to anchor yourself on anything your hands can find. eventually, you find purchase in jungwon's shoulders. he feels your nails digging in, and he mutters a soft 'fuck', speeding up his movements, the wet sounds of his skin slapping against yours so incredibly obscene in the confined space of his room.

"give it to me, please," you say, meeting jungwon's eyes as he continues to fuck into you. his forehead is creased, a look of concentration washing over his face.

"cum inside, fill me up as many times as you want, fuck it deep in me," you continue, cradling jungwon's face in your hands, the tender gesture a contrast to how rough he's bein.

"god," jungwon groans, voice breaking at the end as he speeds up, but then he halts abruptly, his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. you feel him twitch inside you and you gasp, clenching down as hard as you can.

"fuck, yes, milk it all out," jungwon says. he starts to thrust up into you again, watching as his cock is slowly coated with his cum spreading all over your cushy walls.

you whine, your fingers finding their way down to your cunt, your middle and ring finger pressing onto your clit. you rub at it ferociously, the idea of jungwon's sticky release inside of you turning you on impossibly.

"i'm getting hard again, jesus christ," jungwon complains but his movements don't cease. he's shaking from the overstimulation but he wraps his arms around you, pulling your limp form up against him.

"rub that pretty pussy for me, babe," jungwon requests, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"make yourself cum while i fill you up for a second time."

---

"so?"

you jump a little at the sudden intrusion. you look up at jungwon through both of your reflections in your bathroom mirror. three pregnancy tests lie in a neat line on the edge of the sink.

"i just started the timer, jungwon," you reply with a laugh. jungwon turns you around to face him, kissing you briefly.

"hm," you say, looking up at jungwon questioningly. "you never kiss me unless you want something."

"well," jungwon begins, hands slipping under your sweater. "we can always kill time while we wait for the results."

you shake your head, but you're already pressing yourself up against jungwon. "you're insatiable, dr. yang."

jungwon winks at you, undoing your bra under your shirt. "you know it."

"plus, you just look too good in this damn lab coat."

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

[bossbtch1]

Golden Boy of America

Summary : What if Steve Rogers wasn't the revered symbol of American virtue that everyone believed him to be? Contrary to the public perception of his kindness and charm, you've come to realize it was all a façade. Now, you find yourself in a nightmarish scenario—kidnapped and bound, questioning everything you thought you knew about the man once hailed as the golden boy of America.

Pairings : Dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words : 6,9k

General tags : SMUT, 18+, NSFW

TW : dark fic, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, degradation, non-con, dirty talk, oral sex, smut, vibrator, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, overstimulation, breeding kink, forced impregnation

A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I've been going back and forth, tweaking the story to add a darker twist. I've always felt like there's more beneath the surface of Captain America's heroic façade, he did good and sacrificed everything for the world. What if he's not as perfect as he seemed? And you had to be the one who found out about his true side, his dark side. That's the premise of this one shot, enjoy~

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+.  I don't condone any of this kind of thinking in real life, this is purely fan fiction. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. Please don't read if this content is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

My masterlist

The sound of a car door slamming shut is the last thing you remember before everything went black. A dull ache in your head is what you first felt when you woke up.

When you open your eyes, you find that your hands and legs are bounded by rope and tape, the coldness of the floor and walls send shivers down your spine. It takes a few seconds for you to process the situation you were in. The first thing that came into mind was where you were, who did this and why? Your memories were all a blur, you can't remember how you got into this predicament.

You hear a door open from somewhere, it echoes in the empty space, making the hairs on your arm stand up. You start to feel anxious and scared as your heart beats loudly. "Hello?" You say and the voice bounces off the walls, not knowing who was behind this.

"Good, you're awake now." A familiar voice speaks out, walking into the room. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape.

"S-Steve? W-What's going on? Why am I here?" You ask him, fear evident in your voice. Steve doesn't answer and stares at you blankly. He's standing right in front of you. "Answer me!" You demand but he remains silent, only looking at you.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do." He said with a dark expression. 

"What the fuck, Steve!" you said as you were tied to a chair. The ropes were tight enough to not get out of but loose enough so it doesn't hurt. "Let me go, Steve, you bastard!"

He was standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a stoic expression. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked like he was going to kill someone.

"Why should I? So, you can escape and go tell on me? Tell everyone what a bad man I am? Huh?" Steve said as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "You know I can't let you do that."

He kept you in a small bedroom. The wallpaper was torn, revealing the rotten wood behind it. A single bed and a rickety drawer stood as the only furnishings. The window had its shutters closed, allowed no glimpse of the outside world and there was only a single light bulb illuminating the room. It gave a very eerie feeling.

"Steve, let me go." You said in a low voice.

"I can't do that." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "If I do, they will find me and put me in jail."

"Steve, they will not find you. I swear I won't tell anyone." You said as you tried to get up. But Steve came up and pushed you back to the chair.

"Stop. Fucking. Moving." He said in a menacing tone. "You're not the boss here. I am." He said.

"Do you think you can just imprison me like this?" you shouted, your voice cracking with frustration. "What you're doing is cruel and inhumane!"

A chilling smile crept across Steve's lips as he retorted, "Oh, I can, and I will. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. I have my reasons, and I won't let you ruin everything I've worked for."

Your voice trembled with shock and disbelief, "What do you mean I'm not the first? There were others before me? What happened to them? Who are you?!"

"I've always been Steve Rogers, the same person you met and fell for. As for the others, they were my mistakes, and I fixed them." Steve replied in a casual tone as if talking about the weather. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about that. I won't make the same mistakes twice."

"What happened to them?" you asked, feeling the blood drain from your face.

"That's none of your concern, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about them. All you need to worry about is obeying me."

You couldn't believe that the man in front of you was the same person you'd known. "I will not obey you, Steve."

He laughed as he sat on the bed, "You’re not the Steve I know. You're fucking insane! You're no hero!" You screamed at him, "I saw you kill that man, Steve. You took his life without a shred of remorse."

He shook his head. "Y/N it was necessary. He was a criminal, and it was self-defense."

"No it wasn’t!" you raised your voice. “You had other options, you could have spared his life, but you didn't. You killed him because you're a psychopath!"

He ignored your statement and said, "I told you, you should have never followed me. You've made this very hard for yourself." He crossed his arm, "I warned you, I tried so fucking hard so you wouldn't see any of this, but you just had to follow me."

He was right, if you listened to him and didn’t follow him, you wouldn’t end up like this. You didn't know how to respond.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me next?"

"Oh, please, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it the minute I brought you here." He said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, why would I kill you when you could be so much more useful to me alive."

"Useful?"

"Yeah. I could use some help." He said as he walked closer to you.

"What kind of help?" you asked.

He smirked and licked his lips. "The fun kind."

"Steve, what are you talking about?" you asked, fearing the answer.

He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I'm sure you'll be a good girl and obey."

You didn't like where this was going. "Steve, please let me go." you whispered, trying not to cry. You were scared, you were tied to a chair and no one knew where you were. You were scared of what Steve was going to do to you.

"You're begging already?" He laughed dryly. "It hasn't even been 20 minutes."

"Please." You sighed and tried to break free from the ropes. "You can't keep me here, Steve. Please"

"I can do anything I want." he whispered, his face getting closer to yours. You tried to lean back, but there was no room. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You shut your eyes.

"You don't want to do this, Steve." You said.

"Don't I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Because it seems like I do."

"Please..." You opened your eyes, you had tears forming in them. You were scared, he could do anything he wanted to you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"You look so pretty when you beg, you know that?" he said, his face inches from yours.

"Steve, don't do this. Please" You begged.

He ran his fingers over your cheek and wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "Shame that it had to be like this."

"Steve... I-I promise I won't tell anyone." you whimpered, flinching at his touch. You didn't want him to touch you.

He shook his head. "You've seen what I did."

"It was an accident. We can get out of this," you pleaded, your voice laden with desperation, seeking any flicker of empathy in his eyes.

"No. We can't. This was inevitable. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to love it here," Steve declared with an unsettling certainty, his tone almost comforting, as if he genuinely believed the twisted reality he was creating.

"Steve, please. You can't keep me here. If not for you, at least do it for our friendship. Please, let me go"

"This will be the last time you beg, Y/N. I will not repeat myself. You're not going anywhere. This will be your new home"

"It won't be," you insisted, defiance laced with fear.

"You'll see, in time, you'll change your mind." Steve's response echoed through the room, the unsettling assurance leaving you with a sinking feeling of dread as the realization set in that escape seemed increasingly improbable.

The room seemed to close in, the peeling wallpaper and the flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows that danced around the space, creating an atmosphere of both captivity and impending menace.

Your hand struggled against the rope as you watched him. Your eyes wide and frightened. "You see, my sweet Y/N. I've got my eye on you for quite a while. Maybe after I've had my fun with you, I'll consider letting you go. Who knows" he smiled at you, his hand caressing your lips. You felt sick.

"Don't you dare touch me" you hissed, jerking your face away from him. His eyes flashed with anger for a second before it was gone. 

"You don't have a choice" he chuckled. He took hold of your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, his lips a breath away. "I will enjoy making you scream and beg for mercy."

You felt his hands trail down your neck and down to the top of your shirt. He looked up at you before ripping your shirt open, making the buttons fly across the room. You gasped as you felt the cool air hit your skin. You were left in your bra, the thin lace fabric the only thing protecting you.

"Don't" 

"Don't what?" He grinned and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts. You tried to cover yourself but you couldn't. You were still tied to the chair, and he was stronger than you.

"Please. Just stop" You felt tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh, honey. This is just the beginning" He took one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it, making you gasp in pain. He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push him away, but he held onto your wrists and kept you in place.

"Stop! Please, Steve. I'm sorry!"

"No. I don't think you're sorry" he growled as he moved to your neck and bit down. He sucked on the sensitive skin, making sure he left a mark.

"Stop!" you exclaimed, trying to push him off you. He chuckled at your efforts, then next he was moving his hands down your waist and stopping at the top of your jeans.

"Now, be a good girl and stay still. Wouldn't want to ruin such pretty underwear, now would we?" he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your breathing sped up and you started to squirm.

"Steve, stop, please, I'm sorry, just let me go, please" you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn't believe that he was doing this.

"Stop with the dramatics, princess. It won't change a thing. Just sit back and enjoy, it'll feel better if you relax" he cooed, pulling your jeans down to your ankles. You felt a sob escape your throat as he looked down at you, his eyes looking hungry and lustful.

"Please, don't do this, Steve, please"

"Shh, princess, I'm going to make you feel good, okay? But, first, I gotta take these off" he murmured, reaching for your panties. Your breathing stopped, and you felt yourself shake.

"Steve" you whimpered, shaking your head. Tears were falling down your face, and Steve was wiping them away. 

"Such a pretty sight. You're gonna look so pretty covered in my marks" he whispered as he leaned down and started to suck on your neck. You let out a strangled moan as you tried to move your head away from him.

"Get off, you creep" you groaned, trying to kick him away. He didn't seem fazed and just held your hips down. He was much stronger than you, and the more you struggled, the harder his grip became.

"That's it, baby. Squirming like a little slut" he murmured, moving his hand down and under your panties. You shook your head frantically, trying to kick him away again.

"Don't touch me, please" you begged, closing your legs tightly. He looked up at you, his blue eyes darkening with lust. "Steve, get off me!"

"You know, I've seen the way you've looked at me. Like a piece of meat" He was right, you couldn’t lie, you were attracted to him ever since you first saw him. Who wasn’t attracted to him? He was kind and gentle. Even right now after you found out who he really was, you still feel attracted to him. You knew you shouldn’t be. 

“You’re disgusting!” You spat in defiance, you were in denial. 

"You say that now, but I'll have you screaming my name"

"I'll never scream your name, you pervert."

"We’ll see about that, princess.” he murmured, kissing down your stomach. You shivered as you felt his warm breath fanning over your stomach. You didn't want him this close. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but why are you already wet huh?” You were shaking your head, trying to get him to stop. But it felt so good. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but you sure are wet, darling. So, what is it, hm? Tell me, are you wet because you want me or is it something else?” He pushed a finger inside of you, making you gasp. He began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Fuck. I've always wondered what you would feel like. So tight and warm." He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, and you tried to hold back a moan. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring you.

"Scream my name, princess."

"Never." You said through clenched teeth. 

"That's fine, sweetheart, I can do this all day." He smirked.

You could feel his finger moving inside of you, hitting the spot that made your legs tremble. You tried to hold back a moan, but he knew what he was doing.

"Oh fuckkk," you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"That's right, princess, be a good girl for me" he groaned, moving his fingers inside you. You moaned, feeling him thrust his fingers in and out. He moved his lips back to your neck, biting and sucking. He added another finger and curled his fingers inside of you.

You let out a small moan, and he smirked. "Come on, princess, you can do better than that."

He added a third finger and thrust them faster, making your hips buck. He was moving his fingers faster and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer.

You couldn't stop the moans from escaping. Your body betrayed you.

He continued curling his fingers inside of you, and you felt a pressure building up.

"P-please, st-stop, I don't- I don't w-want" you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"What, princess, don't wanna have some fun?"

"No, I-I don't want th-this"

"Stop lying to yourself, princess.” He said as he kissed your cheeks. “You're so pretty like this, Y/N. All vulnerable and defenseless"

"I'm not-"

"Oh, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."

"Fuck, Steve"

"That's right, baby, moan my name. You sound so beautiful." He laughed and continued thrusting his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers went deeper, hitting your g-spot.

"Beg me, princess. Beg me to make you come.” he said, moving his fingers faster. Your breathing sped up as he added a third finger, stretching your hole. 

"Screw you!" You refused to beg him, not giving him the satisfaction.

"You will. You'll beg me to make you come, and then you'll beg me to fuck you. You'll beg me to use your body until I've had my fill."

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. He began rubbing your clit again, causing your legs to shake. You could feel your climax approaching, and you didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. "I can feel how close you are. Say it, princess. Beg me."

Then when you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You wanted to cry. "No!" You panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Not yet, princess. You know what I want, princess. Tell me." He purred, licking his fingers clean. You knew what he wanted, you still refused.

He laughed. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you?"

You were so confused. You didn't know what he meant. "You're gonna make me show you just how bad you need this."

He got up from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and reached inside, pulling out a bag.

"What is that?" you asked, nervously.

He turned and looked at you. He opened the bag and pulled out a long, thin, pink vibrator. Your eyes went wide, you began to tremble. You were terrified. He was going to use that on you.

He held the vibrator up to your face and pressed a button, making it hum. You shook your head at him, "Steve No!"

He walked back over to you and crouched down in front of you. He ran his hand down your thigh, before spreading your legs, "Such a pretty pussy, princess." he murmured, tracing a finger along your folds.

He put the vibrator between your legs, pressing it against your clit.

"Fuck! Don't!" you moaned, trying to get away. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer to him. "Oh, princess, you're gonna cum on this. Then, you're gonna cum on my cock. And, after that, you're gonna beg me for more."

You let out a sob as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself getting close again. "Please, Steve."

He pressed the vibrator against your clit harder, making you moan. You didn't want him touching you there, but you couldn't stop the pleasure. "Tell me what you want, Y/N"

"Steve, I can't. I don't want it, I can't, please"

"But, you do, princess. You're already wet for me. You want this."

You shook your head, trying to get away from the vibrator. He held onto your hips, keeping you still. He leaned forward and licked your nipple. He sucked your nipple, making you arch your back.

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, causing your hips to buck. He let go of your nipple and moved the vibrator lower, rubbing it against your entrance.

"Fuck! Stop, Steve. I-I can't. It's too much!"

"Oh, baby, this is nothing. Just wait until I start fucking you."

You were getting closer, the pleasure almost unbearable. "Steve, please. Stop. Please. I can't. I'm gonna-"

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator. "Say it. Or I'll make this last even longer. I'll keep you here all night, and the whole time, I'll be inside you."

You moaned and closed your eyes. "Please… Steve…”

He chuckled. "I like hearing you beg, princess." He turned the vibrator off and moved it back up to your clit. He slowly pushed it into your tight cunt.

"I can't…."

He smirked, "Oh, baby, we've just gotten started."

He turned the vibrator on and fucked you with it. You arched your back and moaned. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. You let out a whimper as he kissed you, hard. He pulled away and licked your neck. "You're such a slut for me, princess. You will love it when I fuck you."

You shook your head, trying to get him to stop. "Please, Steve. Stop."

He ignored you, thrusting the vibrator deeper inside you.

You were about to cum when he suddenly pulled the vibrator out. "Steve, please, I need-"

Everytime you were close to cum, he would turn the vibrator off,  making you frustrated and horny. "I can do this all day, princess."

You couldn't take it anymore, "Please Steve! Please let me cum, I can't take it anymore, please" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. You really needed to cum so bad, he was edging you so hard.

You hated yourself for begging him. He kept the vibrator pressed against your clit, and with his other hand, he began fucking you with his fingers again.

He grinned, "What's the magic word?"

"Please…."

"Wrong answer, princess." He chuckled and stood up. He turned the vibrator on and started walking towards you. He held the vibrator against your clit and rubbed it in slow circles. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."

You took a deep breath and slowly spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt. “Good girl.” 

"Yes, oh god, Steve, please." You were moaning and panting, trying to hold off your orgasm, but he was making it impossible. "I can't hold back much longer, Steve, I'm so close. Please don’t stop." You were moaning, you didn’t care for anything, you needed to cum. 

But the moment you were about to cum, Steve stopped again, and removed the vibrator.

"Steve! No! Fuck!" You screamed, tears pricking your eyes. "What the fuck! Let me cum!"

He laughed, "So desperate. How long has it been since someone touched you like this? I can tell by your reactions that it's been a while." He turned on the vibrator again, “You will cum on my cock, now beg me to fuck you."

You were shaking, crying, "Fuck you, Steve. I'm not doing that."

He laughed, "Oh, I think you will. You're so desperate, Y/N, so close to the edge. You'll do anything to cum." He slowly undid his pants and stroking his cock in front of you. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at his length, you didn't think it was possible for a man to have such a huge cock. But, the sight of him stroking his cock was making you even wetter, and you couldn't help but want him to fuck you.

"Tell me you want me, tell me how much you want my cock."

"Steve, no. Please." You tried to close your legs, but he put the vibrator between them, spreading your lips and pushing the vibrator inside.

"If you don't, I'll just leave you here. Alone. Unsatisfied."

You were quiet, you shouldn’t want him, you should hold a little longer but he was being so good to you. It had been long since a guy made you felt like this. 

"Come on, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me how much you want me inside you. Tell me how bad you want my cock." He grinned as he kissed your clit, “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want. I’ll fuck you better than any guy you know. I’ll make sure you will never be more satisfied than being with me again."

His words sent it toward your clit, you clenched your pussy hearing him said that. You were frustrated, sobbing, you needed release, and you didn't care about anything. You were going to beg.

 You caved in, "Fine! Fuck me, Steve. Please fuck me. I need your cock, please!"

He leaned forward and kissed you. He bit down on your bottom lip, and you gasped. He chuckled, "I bet you'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you, princess?"

He turned the vibrator back on and started fucking you with it. You were crying and moaning, begging him to let you cum. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "Fuck, please, Steve, fuck. I'm so close, I'm gonna cum. Fuck."

"Cum for me, princess.” 

You came screaming, your whole body convulsing. You were shaking and sweating, your body aching from the pleasure.

He turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of you. He kissed your cheek, "Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, princess."

You were panting, trying to catch your breath. "I hate you."

"You don't mean that, baby. You're just a little overwhelmed. It's okay."

You looked at him, his eyes were soft and gentle, but you knew he was crazy. You were still tied up, helpless, and completely at his mercy. He was going to use his large cock to fuck you, and you couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you. I promise."

He started to untie you and you were confused. Was he letting you go? You tried to scramble to ran away from him but you didn’t get far, he wrapped his arms on your waist lifting you. “Steve! Put me down now!”

He ignored you and brought you back to the bed. He put you down and pinned you, using his body weight to keep you still. "Don't think this changes anything."

He kissed you, hard and hungry. You tried to push him away but it was useless, he was too strong. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking as he went. He stopped at your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand.

"Steve, please..."

"You want me to stop, Y/N?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's too bad. Because I'm not stopping until I'm finished with you. And you're gonna love every minute of it. You're my girl, Y/N. I'm never letting you go.” 

"No, please...don't...stop...don't hurt me, Steve."

He smirked, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He let go of your wrists and reached down between your legs. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. "God, you're so wet. So wet and ready for me."

"Stop..."

"No. I'm not stopping, princess. You're going to come for me, just like you did with the vibrator. And then, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you all night long."

You tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. You tried to kick him, “Princess.” He warned, you stopped your movement, his tone made you scared. 

He then smiled, “Good girl.” 

You were trapped, at his mercy. He was going to hurt you, he was going to fuck you, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were his.

He slipped a finger inside of you, moving it in and out slowly. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're gonna feel so good on my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you even more. He kept pumping them in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. You could feel another orgasm building.

"Oh God...oh fuck, Steve...please..."

"Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?"

"No...don't stop...fuck, Steve..."

"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want."

"I want...I want you to fuck me."

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. You're gonna come for me, aren't you?"

"Yes...oh God, Steve...yes...I'm gonna cum." He fucked you faster, harder, his fingers pounding into you. You couldn't hold back anymore, you threw your head back and screamed his name as you came, your whole body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, that's it, baby. You’re so beautiful, princess.” He didn't stop, he kept fucking you, his fingers buried deep inside you. You couldn't believe how good it felt, you had never been fucked like this before.

He kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your orgasm. You were panting and moaning, trying to catch your breath. "That's it, princess. That's it. Just like that."

He moved down and spread your legs wide open. "Fuck, baby. You're so fucking wet."

He licked your slit, tasting your juices. You moaned as he lapped at your folds, sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

He pulled back and looked up at you, "You taste so fucking good, baby. I could eat you all day long."

"Oh, god...please, Steve..."

"Please, what, princess? You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please, fuck me, Steve."

"Fuck, I love when you beg, princess."

His cock was rock hard, the tip leaking precum. He grabbed the base and stroked it a few times before positioning himself between your legs. He lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating it in your wetness. "Fuck... Steve… It's not going to fit."

"It'll fit, princess. I promise." He slowly pushing inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. It hurt, but the feeling of him stretching you was incredible. He was so big and you felt so full. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. So wet. Do you like my cock, baby? Do you like the way it feels?"

"Oh god, Steve. So full." You moaned.

He started moving, thrusting into you. The pace was slow and steady, letting you get used to his size. "God, you feel so fucking good, princess. So fucking good."

It hurt at first, but the pain soon turned to pleasure. You were moaning, begging him for more. "Steve...faster..."

He grinned, "You want it faster, baby? You want me to fuck you faster?"

"Yes...please...faster..."

He quickened his pace, pounding into you. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

"Fuck, yes, Steve!"

"That's it, baby. Scream my name. Scream my name as I fuck you."

"Oh, god...yes...please, Steve... harder!"

He groaned and started slamming into you, fucking you hard and fast. "Fuck, baby. You're such a slut, begging me to fuck you harder."

You were lost in pleasure, moaning and screaming his name. "That's it, baby. Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

"So good, Steve...it feels so good...I love you fucking me, Steve."

"Yeah, you do, don't you? You love being fucked by me huh?" He growled and pounded into you, harder and faster.

"I love it...please, Steve, more..." He felt so good inside you, you should've hating him, but all you wanted was more. You shouldn’t want him but fuck no one ever fucked you this good. "Yes, Steve, oh god, yes. Please fuck me."

"Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard. I'll fuck you until you can't walk." He began thrusting his hips, fucking you hard and fast. He sped up his thrusts, slamming into you harder and deeper. You were lost in the pleasure, not caring about anything else. All that mattered was him and how good he made you feel.

You were so close, you could feel your orgasm building. "Steve...I'm gonna come."

"Yeah? You gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, you are. You're gonna come all over my cock. You're gonna come for me, baby. Come on, princess. Come for me." He then went to sucked your neck and then bit it, hard. "Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself come. Rub that fucking clit while I fuck you."

You obeyed, reaching down and rubbing your clit. It only took a few seconds before you were coming, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.

"Fuck, yes, princess. That's it. Come for me."

You were coming down from your high and he was still pounding into you

You moaned and came, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it. You were so oversensitive and it was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. "Oh, God, yes, Steve!" He slammed back into you, his pace relentless. "You like that, princess? You like me fucking you?"

"Yes! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop!"

He reached around and rubbed your clit, making you moan even louder. "Come for me, princess. Come for me again. I want to hear you scream."

You were close, you could feel your orgasm building again. He pinched your clit and that was it. You came, screaming his name. He continued to fuck you, not slowing down at all.

"God, I love it when you scream, princess. Keep screaming for me."

You were barely coming down from your orgasm and he was already pushing you towards another one. You couldn't take it, it was too much. You were oversensitive and it was almost too much. He leaned forward and kissed your neck, whispering in your ear, "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all."

"Steve, please...it's too much...it's too much..."

"Shh, princess. I know. I know. But you can take it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, I know. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. "Now, say it. Say you're my good girl."

"I'm your good girl." 

"Fucking right you are." He said and went to fondled your breast while he pounded into you, his pace unforgiving. His trusts became erratic, you knew he was close.

Then you remember, he didn't wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control.  "Please pull out! Don't come inside of me, please! I’m not on birth control!”

He stopped, but didn't pull out. "You're kidding, right? What's the point in fucking you if I don't come inside of that tight pussy of yours? I'm gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You started to panic. "Please, you'll get me pregnant. Please don't come inside of me."

"No, you're mine now. And I'm gonna breed you, just like you deserve. You're going to give me what I want and you're going to take it."

"Please, don't come inside of me." Your breath came in gasps, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore, even though you were crying. You tried to push him off, but he didn't let you, didn't stop fucking you.

"Please, please don't. I'll do anything you want. Please just pull out, I'll let you fuck me every morning. I'll be your good girl, please just not inside." You were sobbing now, but your cunt was dripping.

“Your body says otherwise, princess.” He picked up his pace again. Fuck, you like this, don't you? You're so wet. You want to have my babies, don't you? Fuck, yeah, you're a good girl, begging for my cum."

He felt you trying to pull away and he slapped your ass, hard. "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're going to stay here and take my cock. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you." He moaned, his thrusts were becoming more desperate, his hand left your waist and moved to your clit, rubbing hard.

You whimpered and he slapped your ass again. "Don't fight me, princess. Just let go and enjoy it. You're already mine, and now you're going to have my baby. We're going to have a family, Y/N. You're not leaving me."

You gave up, your body submitting to him. He was in complete control and there was nothing you could do. He kept fucking you, going even faster and harder. "There you go, baby. That's it. Let me take care of you."

Your pussy started to contract and you screamed, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. "Yeah, fuck. I knew you'd like this. Fuck, you're squeezing me, that's it. Take it, take it all, be a good girl and take it."

He moaned and pumped into you harder, until his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed.

"Ahhhh!" You cried as he spilled his seed inside of you, filling your insides. He groaned at the feeling of you, warm and wet, squeezing around him. He let go of your wrists and wrapped both his arms around your waist. 

When he was finished, he stayed inside of you, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that was great. Best sex I ever had."

 When he pulled out, you felt his come dripping down your leg. "We can't waste this, can we?" He thrusted his finger into you, gathering his come. You were still shaking, not able to comprehend what just happened.

He shoved his finger into your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, won't you? Now clean my fingers.”

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, you were too exhausted to do anything, just opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers down your throat.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you and the baby." He whispered. "You'll be the perfect mom."

"Oh, no. We're not done yet." He grabbed your face with his clean hand, and pulled you into a kiss. He pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, tasting his cum. "You're such a good girl. Now, I'll give you a reward."

He got down on his knees and pushed your legs apart, then leaned forward, licking your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive skin, but quickly bit your lip, trying to keep quiet.

He looked up at you. "Don't worry, honey. I love the sounds you make. So sweet. Keep making those noises for me." He moved his tongue over your clit, slowly, teasing.

He licked and sucked at your clit, while you moaned, the sensation almost too much. "I know you're sore, honey. But I wanna hear you come on my tongue. Be a good girl and come for me, can you do that?"

"Yes."

He continued sucking your clit, and moved his hand down to your pussy, pushing his fingers inside. He moved his fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly, but it was still too much.

"Please, Steve, make me come."

"That's my good girl." He moved his fingers faster, sucking harder, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your moans were louder, your whole body felt hot.

"Steve, oh god, oh god, I'm coming."

You felt him smile against your clit, his tongue moving faster, sucking and licking. Your moans became screams, your legs were shaking, you felt the pressure building in your belly, your whole body shaking. You came hard, squirting on his face.

"You taste so sweet." He got up from his knees, his cock hard again, and pressed it against your pussy.

"Please, not again. It's too much. I-I'm too tired. I can't...I don't have any more energy." 

"I can give you energy, princess" He pushed into you, and you screamed, the feeling too intense. He pulled out and then slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and moved his hips in a circular motion, the pressure in your belly building again.

You sighed, you didn't have any energy left. Steve had been non-stop ever since the day he took you, he didn't give you a single moment to rest. You were always filled with his cum. "You'll enjoy it, princess. You always do."

He started to thrust up into you, and you felt your orgasm building. "Oh, God, Steve!"

"That's it, baby, scream my name."

"Steve! Oh, God, Steve!"

You came, clenching around his cock. He groaned, and you felt him spill inside you, his hot cum filling you up. "Fuck, baby, you're so good."

He kissed you, and you could feel him getting hard inside of you again. "No, Steve, please. I can't..."

"Yes, you can, princess. I know you can."

He started to move again, and you knew you were in for a long night.

You couldn't help but moan, you could feel his thick length filling you up. His cum was still inside of you and it was a warm feeling. You were so tired and he could tell, "One more time, princess, and I'll let you sleep."

He was so big, and he hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan, it felt so good.

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his cum, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You moaned as he thrust deeper into you. He was so big and it felt so good. You were lost in the pleasure, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered was him and the way he made you feel.

"Say you want me to come inside of you."

"I want you to come inside of me, Steve."

“Beg me.”

“Please, Steve. I want your cum. Please fill me up.”

"Good girl." He kept his rhythm, the feeling of his cock inside of you was too much, but it was so good.

"Come for me, be a good girl and come for me."

Your body was shaking, you felt his cock throb and fill you up again, and then you were coming, your legs trembling, your moans loud.

"Fuck, yeah. You're such a good girl, so sweet, coming for me. So tight, fuck. Such a good girl."

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you. He held himself above you, watching your face, while he fucked you. His cock was still inside of you, twitching, the feeling so intense.

"And don't you forget it. You're mine, and no one else is gonna fuck you. Cause you're mine, and I'm gonna keep you pregnant, giving me all the babies I want."

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his mark and seed, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You didn't have a choice, he wouldn't let you go. He'd fuck you every day, until he had knocked you up. You didn't even want a baby, and he didn't care. He'd do whatever he wanted. You had no choice but to obey him. But he made you feel so good and gentle with you, you couldn't help but enjoy it.

You had given up, the police weren't going to find you. No one was. You were his prisoner, his plaything. And he was going to keep you forever.

But, in a twisted way, you didn't mind. Because he was always there for you, taking care of you, fucking you, loving you. You had never felt this way about anyone before. And deep down, you knew you were falling in love with him.

"I love you, Y/N. And I'm gonna take care of you, and our baby. Forever."

"I love you, too, Steve."

FIN

A/N : So what do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, I want to know about your thoughts! 

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #the winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers #marvel x reader #steve rogers #dark fic #stockholm syndrome #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

[hopefulceladon]

silent night | sunday x reader

summary: one is supposed to treat everyone with hospitality in case of chance encounters, aren't they? so why was it so hard for you to do the same for him? pairing: sunday x reader word count: 1.8k notes: this was made well before sunday's first official in-game appearance!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was quiet. 

Except, no, that would’ve been a rather inadequate, exceedingly drab way to describe the scenery in which you’ve surrounded yourself in. 

Throughout your stay at The Reverie Hotel, you never knew it to behold racket in the middle of the night, so the silence in the air was nearly expected and not at all noteworthy. 

Rather, it had not been merely quiet, but everything was so still, so maddeningly stagnant, that all that you felt in that very moment was the sensation of tiny bumps that prickled upon the chilly surface of your arms, as well as the thrumming of your anxious heart that resided in your chest as trepidation clung like a suffocating blanket to your lungs. 

In short, you swore you felt like you were being watched; watched long enough for your worries to occupy the vacancies between your rational thoughts, watched long enough for the trees that surrounded you in the courtyard to still, as if they, too, were afraid that whatever was seemingly nearby would undoubtedly perceive them first, as unlikely as that was. 

Sick of the sheer absurd nature of your intrusive thoughts, you hastily gathered the small amount of belongings you brought outside to get up from the spot of grass you sat upon. With your mind purely occupied upon going back to your hotel room, where you hoped had been far safer, a sudden voice broke all your will and intent. 

“Dearest guest?” 

Startled, you fell backwards onto the plush grass with a distinct gasp of discomfort. As you sharply turned your head upright to face the one who shattered your solitude, all that you could see were blurry lines of glowing light, heavily disrupting the clarity of your vision. 

“My heavens, that was quite the startle. I apologize.” 

The mellifluous voice surely sounded familiar, but with your visage currently impaired by an irritatingly obnoxious amount of illuminance, you couldn't see who it belonged to. 

Over the span of a few deep breaths taken to still the anxious tremor in your chest, the luminous aura had slowly dissipated and only lingered near his right hand, moving downwards to form a glowing radius around what seemed to be a lantern the stranger had carried. 

As you blinked the aftereffects of the blinding light away from your sight, you felt something sink—though you weren't sure if it was your heart or your stomach—at the sight of the gray-haired man in front of you. 

Standing before you was the head of ‘The Family’, the organization you've heard far too many conspiratorial whispers about in passing, and yet knew next to nothing of the truth in full. It wasn’t that you’ve never seen Sunday before, but it was always when you were far off into the background, never once having the chance to hold a full-fledged conversation with him. 

And yet, here he was now, and all you could feel was an awkward sense of distrust, instilled in you by the overheard whispers that enabled your inhibitions to take over the reins. Perhaps the eerie atmosphere from earlier didn’t help either. 

“Ah... Mr. Sunday.” you tentatively acknowledged his presence. 

The winged man noticed the hesitance in your tone, yet graciously offered you his free hand so you could stand upright before you two conversed further. 

You quickly declined with a shake of your head. 

Sunday's tongue clicked, his eyebrows furrowing together, but the sudden expression of disappointment was as brief as it was abrupt. 

“Please, I insist.” 

Despite your display of obstinance, he still held out his hand for you to take, patiently awaiting your next move. 

The urge to resist and stand firm on your belief that you didn't require assistance was enticing, but, caught up in a sudden moment of weakness after glancing upwards at his softened golden eyes, you finally decided to accept. 

It was surely the right thing to do, after all, wasn't it? 

You weren't entirely surprised by the gentle way his hand had delicately grasped onto yours as he lifted you upright, nor were you startled by the soft, chilly sensation of his gloved thumb brushing briefly against your knuckles, as you knew from prior observations that he was a courteous man, and this was surely typical behavior. 

What you were surprised by, however, was the smile upon his lips as he helped you back onto your feet. It had been a reassuring image at first, until you realized soon after that his expression never met his eyes, let alone crinkled their corners. 

Come to think of it, whenever you happened to capture the rare sight of Sunday off in the distance before back at the hotel, did he ever give anyone he spoke to a genuine smile? 

The sound of Sunday clearing his throat interrupted both your brain's musings and the night's silence. 

“As I stated earlier, I apologize for startling you.” 

“It's fine! Absolutely fine, seriously.” you insisted, waving a hand in dismissal as you took a step backwards. With the anxieties from earlier growing ever more intrusive, you wondered if maybe you should've stayed inside your hotel room after all. 

Sunday tilted his head, completely ignoring your words and focusing on your footwork instead. “If everything is ‘absolutely fine’ as you say, may I please ask why you're currently backing away like a frightened little kitten?” 

Though his tone was merely curious, you couldn't help but worry you inadvertently peeved him, feeling as if the weight of his gaze had fallen upon your every move, silently observing you to assume your next move before you even made it. 

“Ah, I just... I'm...” you desperately fumbled for words. “A... a little chilly, yes! And I was simply going to go back inside—” 

“You're chilly, you say?” Sunday interrupted your nervous sputtering before taking a step closer, setting the lantern he held with his right hand down onto the stony ground, and then gently lowering his pristine, white jacket from off his shoulders. “I wish you would've spoken sooner, I'd simply hate for a guest of mine to freeze to death...” 

Before you could ask whatever it was that he was doing, the sudden heaviness of something completely foreign weighed down upon your tensed shoulders, and you turned to face him, bewildered. 

“Think of it as an apology gift, won't you?” Sunday replied, noting your confusion, yet speaking nothing of it as his eyes focused upon one of your shoulders. “And... ah, might I remove this peculiar speck of dirt? Forgive me, it's just bothering me immensely.” 

“Huh? Oh, uh... of course?” 

Sunday hummed thoughtfully before carefully laying his hand atop your shoulder, gently flicking off the piece of dirt that had offended his sight. A tiny, lopsided, yet ultimately still forced, smile formed upon his lips for a few brief seconds afterwards, though you weren't sure what for. 

“There we are. Not only do you look your best, but I'm also sure you feel your best as well now, no?” 

“Right, uh... are you always this courteous to guests?” you murmured. 

“Ah, of course! The Family prides itself on showing hospitality to all of those who stay in the hotel,” he paused, raising a brow. “...so, shouldn’t you, yourself, provide more hospitality in kind? You can never quite tell if you've entertained an angel unawares, after all.” 

Though his words most definitely belonged in any sort of stern lecture, his tone was far from befitting any admonishments. 

He had used a tone that was far too soft, far too sugary sweet, and as you stood there, desperately seeking any potential agendas hidden within the depths of his words, you failed to pan out any nuggets of information that could reaffirm your suspicions, despite your best efforts. 

Noting your silence, Sunday simply tutted in disappointment. 

“You seem awfully anxious still.” the man mused out loud, his gaze lingering on your tensed posture before falling to peer over all what the beautiful courtyard had generously offered. “You see, I've heard the world of dreams has this brilliant ability to still one's mind and heart...” 

“Why do you sound so insistent upon me going there?” you asked quickly before you realized your mistake, wishing your tongue would, for once, wait for your brain to catch up. 

Sunday's seraphic wings vaguely twitched, and he took a second before answering. 

“Is it really so wrong for me to hope that my guests, and I do mean all of my guests, get to experience the full extent of joys that Penacony has to offer? All I wish for is just for you to relax, dear.” 

After taking a moment to transfer the lantern on the floor onto a nearby table, providing a far more suitable range of light, Sunday glanced back up at you, his cheek resting against his palm, fully intent on waiting as long as it took to hear your answer. 

Nervously, you took a deep breath, trying your best to consider his words. 

It's not that you wanted to distrust all that falls from his lips, but surely you were being fooled, weren't you? How could a man at the head of such a famous family be so exceedingly courteous and kind, without some sort of hidden objective? Surely, you were merely an insignificant actor—hopefully not an infuriating obstacle—in his grand plans, whatever they were, and Penacony was merely his performance's stage? 

You wished not to be led like a blind lamb to its’ slaughter, but you could nearly compare yourself to a mindless moth bumbling its way towards Sunday's flickering flame, as the possibility of attempting to trust him without reservations was so dearly tempting. 

With a sigh, you allowed your tensed shoulder blades to relax, and slowly, you unclenched a fair portion of the strain out of your jaw. 

“I'll... try to consider it?” 

“Ah, you will?” Sunday's head tilted, and he let out a soft chuckle. Had it just been you, or did he seem rather pleased with himself that he managed to sway you towards his idea? 

“Well, I do hope it proves to be a wonderful experience for you, then.” 

Forcing your nerves down, you were about to smile at him before you noticed the motion of his wings, twitching with happiness as they hovered so delicately against his ears. 

It was odd. Odd in the sense that it was the first positive response beyond an eloquently worded reply or tight-lipped, false smile that he ever gave you. And, unfortunately, not only was it odd, but it really was quite a charming sight. 

Blinking yourself out of your distracted daze, you lowered your head with gratitude. “Thank you, sir...” 

“Make no mention of it. May your dreams in Penacony always be pleasant, dearest guest.” 

Though your nerves still bubbled away in your chest and in your thoughts, you tried to convince yourself that everything was going to be fine. 

Because surely, you could trust him, right?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #hsr sunday #sunday #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #if sunday's eidolons aren't named after the other six days of the week i swear

[avatarkv]

V ! I Know it's for the better. Know it's for the better.

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing.

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 5057)

Song: Waiting Room, Phoebe Bridgers.

“Can you hear me, corporal?” He chuckles, “Yeah. I think you can.” 

"If you so much as lay a finger on her, consider yourself a dead man.” Your father seethed through the intercom that you could feel his very rage– it frightened you, almost more so than being captured by Quaritch. Jake wasn't the kind of man who liked to make idle threats; it was his commitment that made him the perfect olo’eyktan, but it was purely love that made him the father he is today. 

You knew very well what he was capable of. 

You tugged at the binds, desperate to loosen them but to no avail. Squirming uncomfortably in your seat, despair settled into your chest like lead and you felt helpless. You didn't even put up a fight to begin with; all those training, just to end up at the root of it all. You could only glare at Quaritch while he looked down at you, fingers pressing the pager on his ear.

“Now don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you have your father’s eyes.” His remark made your gaze falter, disgust coursing through your body. “You know what to do, Jake.”

“Don’t touch her, asshole! She’s just a kid–

“Might’ve gotten a few scratches in, but nothing a few bandaids can’t fix.” Quaritch looks you up and down, a smirk playing on his lips,  “Don’t worry, we show visitors the utmost respect here. I’m certain you’d know our customs around these parts, marine.” His tone is slightly aggressive and there's an air of smugness in his words– he’s provoking him, taking pleasure in knowing that he has the upper hand.

Scratches my ass. They gave you one hell of a shot on your side when they tried to kill off your ilu and they did nothing but put some ragged cloth to stop the bleeding. You knew it wasn’t any deep, but it still hurt– not to mention you’ve lost a lot of blood from their harsh tugging. You wince, thinking about it. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline coursing through your body, you would’ve been in a whole lot of pain.

“What the hell do you want?” 

“Same as before. You for her.” 

Their voices melted into the background, like a low hum of static passing through your ears. Despite the noise, you feel yourself attune to it after a while and allow yourself to drift away. Eventually, it tuned itself out and you were surrounded by an almost eerie silence.  

Your father had said something, you remembered, something you had missed.

You had missed the looming aircraft above– unlike the usual helicopters you knew, this one flew stealthily, as if it was designed to lurk and catch even the slightest of movement. At first, they thought it was merely a lone ilu; they were now at the reef, after all. Your color blended almost perfectly with its skin, movement as fluid as the raging sea. They had shot it, grazing its fin. 

“Mawey, mawey!” You had screamed in panic, trying to hold on to its thrashing body. “Dad–”

The ilu struggled, bellowing in pain. It was impossible to form a bond, let alone control your breathing– the bluish-green waters were now tainted with a faint, crimson hue. Blood; familiar blood, painful red. 

“__, listen, I’m gonna find you, okay?” It was difficult to make out the words he had spoken over the loud static of the pager. The radio waves were making it hard for either of them to hear properly. Trying again, he shouted,  “Sweetheart, I’m–” 

From there, they had spotted you; a forest na’vi, sticking out like a sore thumb. Quaritch had most certainly hit the jackpot upon seeing that it was none other than Jake Sully's eldest daughter.

You wondered what he could have uttered in that moment before Quaritch and his people had rushed to get to you. Could it have been an apology– a sorry you’ve been longing for? Sweetheart, I’m sorry for being so tough on you. I’m sorry we had to leave home– leave him. I’ll find you and you’ll be okay. We’re going home.

But the thought of facing his disappointment again plagued you; once it had been his love that held you together, but now this fear kept your feet firmly planted on the ground.

Sweetheart, I’m disappointed in you– how could you put yourself in this situation? How could you put everyone in danger again? What would Neteyam think? I’m tired, __. You tire me. 

Yeah, that was surely it. 

Your eyes wandered around the room; the unfamiliar white walls reminded you just how far away from home you were and perhaps this time, you could never return.

Quaritch grabs your braid in his fist, tugging on it with a vice-like grip and forcing you to look up at him. You stifle a cry of pain, feeling the throbbing ache all across your scalp as his grip tightens around it. He tugs on it further, wanting a sound out of you, but all you could let out was a loud hiss. “Can’t hear your father, darling, think we have to put on a show.” He sneers, “You must not really love your children, Jake.” 

“I understand already–! get your fucking hands off her!”

“I don’t think you understand, really.” Quaritch taunts. 

A beat of silence passes before your father's desperate voice echoes through the intercom. “Please,” he pleads, “Don't hurt my daughter."

“There we go,” He finally releases your hair, “I’ll be waiting, Jake.” 

Quaritch removes the pager, discarding it on the table just in front of you. 

“You must be very disappointed in yourself,” A low hiss erupted from your throat as you gazed upwards. He sat in front of you, mockingly close, yet far enough that you couldn’t do anything but glare. “Does this not remind you of a familiar night?” 

“They are coming for you,” Your tone was menacing– livid, as the words snarled from your lips. “And when they do, you’re gonna wish that you’ve let yourself rot in that shack.”

It flashed through his mind– a glimmer of your mother that burned fiercely; a warning. Quaritch straightened his posture, chuckling. “That traitor is coming to save his dear daughter in distress, much like your brother had. We know how it'll end.”

“Not until he kills you first,” 

“You’re in a different boat, kid, away from the main one. What happens if I tell him he’d been too late and I got bored?” He shakes his head, snickering, like he had figured it all out– like he had carefully planned for everything to work out just so.“That this kid had too much of a mouth on her that I had to cut her throat?” 

His words had struck you– a low blow. You feel as if your mouth has suddenly gone dry and the lump that appears in your throat lodges itself there stubbornly, refusing to move. No words came out of your lips, but a pathetic low sob. He was going to kill your father and he could succeed in doing so. “You’re one sick man.”

“You know your brother didn’t have to die,” His voice held no remorse and you wondered how someone could sleep so soundly. He stands up, dusting his pants, “But your father had it coming. Now stay here and be a sweetheart.”

Before he walked out, Quaritch had looked down on you one last time. There, you realized that you doomed yourself beyond salvation. You were nothing and he made sure of that— had cut you on a barely healing wound and now it reopened, bleeding more than ever.

Eywa must’ve turned her back. No child of hers would have suffered such trouble– and you were young. So young, you think that the stories of her were absurd. One more miracle, you needed just one more. 

The lights dimmed when the doors closed, leaving you in the dark with your thoughts. 

They were arguing again. 

Tuk was nestled close to Kiri, the two of them huddled together in front of the table. Lo'ak sat on the other side, rising slightly from his seat in an effort to eavesdrop and make out whatever he could hear from their parents’ conversation.

Something was off and gravely so. Nothing ever good rooted from a fight and they barely do, not until the past occurrences. It had to be the sky-people.

“I don’t feel so good,” Tuk muttered, her grip tight around her belly as if she could hold in the pain. “The last time this happened was when we left our home.”

“We’re not leaving, Tuk.” Kiri quickly assured her.

Their meal had gone cold and the silence was deafening. They all waited with baited breath, trying not to fidget or move. The suspense was growing thick in the air and they didn't know how much longer they could bear to remain idle, wondering what the hell was happening.

As if their prayers had been answered, Jake hurriedly walks inside, eyes falling to his panicked children. It made his heart more and more heavy, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort them. Neytiri had already gone to Ronal’s

“Kids,” His voice was low and firm, and it made his shoulders stiff in anticipation, “Make sure everyone stays here. No one goes out the reef, understand?”

“Wait—” Lo’ak abruptly stands up, staggering to his feet. “What’s happening? Where’s __?”

“They took her.” It was all the answer he needed. The sky-people had found them. “Lo’ak, stay here with your sisters. I mean it.”

“You can’t expect me to stay here while __ is in danger—”

“I need one child! One child to listen when I tell them to stay,” He raises his voice with every word, but it wavers as he speaks— Jake could barely keep himself together, eyes betraying his authority. His gaze sharply shifts to his daughters, watching intensely as the scene unfolds. “Kiri, please.” She only replies with a curt nod and Lo’ak visibly deflates.

He needed them to stay here— here, where it’s safe. Here where Quaritch couldn’t touch them.

From afar, he embodied the fierce olo’eyktan that he is, but truthfully, he trembles as a father. He blamed himself for that night– blamed himself for everything that had happened. Jake couldn’t risk losing another one. Not only will he be failing his family, he’d fail Neteyam again, most of all. 

Lo’ak slumps his shoulders, pushing past Jake. “This isn’t fair,” He mutters under his breath. Jake’s eyebrows knitted tightly and he knew damn well there was no going back from talking back to a parent. “You aren’t being fair– how could you ask us to standby?” 

“I’m not asking, Lo’ak. It’s an order.”

“That’s even worse!” He shouts in reply and Jake is taken back. 

There it is. The emotions desperate to claw out of their throats. If toughening them to an extent was a good thing, why was it biting him in the ass right now? Jake’s bottom lip quivered slightly. He didn’t need this– not now. He would’ve dealt with it properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Jake didn’t need his kids reminding him how he fucked up. He didn’t need another heartache when he had to toughen himself out.

“This isn’t the time for attitude, Lo’ak–” Jake exhales a deep breath, his eyes squinting as he clenches his jaw. He tries hard to keep himself in check, the last thing he wants is to lose his temper. Talk to them. Calmly. “You think I have the upperhand? Your sister needs me right now, what don’t you understand?” 

“This would not have happened if you could just listen!” 

“Well I’m here now, Lo’ak– just what do you have to say?” He stares back at him with an intensity that matches his own, voice slightly raised.

A million thoughts raced his mind. Will he blame him for bringing him here–? Here in awa’altu where they had to unlearn everything they have known– here in awa’atlu, away from his brother; but when silence had only replied to his outburst, he sighed wearily. 

“Right now, we do not see eye to eye, boy.” His tone turns gentle, surprisingly. It causes Lo’ak to become rigid– unmoving as he takes in his father’s unfamiliar nature. The atmosphere shifted so somewhat awkward. Lo’ak only knew how to deal with his father’s anger.  “And that’s on me. I know you blame me for being a shit father, and I want you to. I messed up and I keep messing up.” 

“Then why can’t you be better?” He said so casually, like  it was something Jake could accomplish with a flick of a switch, as if it was an easy task she simply hadn't put in enough effort for. But that was never the case. 

Truthfully, he didn’t know what to answer. Didn’t want to tell his son that this was already his best. He liked to think that no father is perfect– eased him just a little knowing that there were far worse than him. But maybe he was no better.

When he knew that Neteyam’s eyes would never open again, he thought that hurt had hit the lowest of lows. But here he was, watching his son’s hateful gaze and had never been so wrong. 

His ears flattened. “Stay here Lo’ak, please.” 

Coward. Jake was a coward.

Lo'ak let out a frustrated scoff, quickly turning his head away and storming off in anger. He left the Marui so hastily that Jake was left alone with a crestfallen expression etched on his face. His expression was enough for Kiri to run after him, Tuk trailing behind. She jogged hastily, her breath catching in her throat as she eventually managed to match Lo'ak's pace.

“Lo’ak, they asked us to stay here.” Kiri tried to grasp on his wrist, only for him to retract harshly. They continued to walk towards the shore in an argument, “Lo’ak!” 

“They have __, I’m going.” He continues to march towards his ilu, caressing its head in greeting while it mewls in return. “I’m not losing another one, Kiri. She’s my sister.”

Kiri grabs his hand, turning him around to face her sharply. Tuk’s head peeps to watch from behind her legs, “I’m your sister too! You’re scaring Tuk, just let them handle it.”

“What’s going on?” Ao’nung calls. Tsireya had heard of the commotion and immediately went to find Lo’ak and it was no surprise that he’d want to go after his parents. 

“This is the sky people we’re talking about! The same people who–” He had exhaled loudly in frustration, his movements jerking and violent as he ran his hands through his braids repeatedly. His face contorts in stress and disbelief, and he yanks on his hair lightly, an attempt to shift the focus of his energy to something tangible instead of this hopelessness that has crept up on him. 

“I have to be there.” 

“Keep your skxawng ass here, I swear to Eywa.” But her threats fell on deaf ears as he continued to mount his ilu, spear in hand. He threw them one last glance before he sped away, leaving Kiri to call out his name. 

Rotxo’s expression grew worried as he watched Lo’ak’s figure disappear amongst the vast spread of water. Forehead creased in concern as he looked around where everyone had been standing, “Are we supposed to let him?”

“Eywa, of course not.” She had clapped towards the Ilus, beckoning them to ride. “Let’s go, people.”

Life was simple back then. 

Jake knew he had to pull on his weight, lengthen his patience, and learn fatherhood from scratch. He was far from perfect, but he was sure that even his best efforts would still be better than what his own father had done for him when it came to parenting. His old man had never been there for him in any sense of the word. 

“Alright babygirl, your turn.” Jake beckons you to take Neteyam’s place as he lends you his bow. 

“He’s gonna come out behind those big rocks,” Your father instructs. He grabs your arm and moves it just a bit higher, steadying your aim with his firm grip. “Slowly, steady. Watch your aim.” You squint your eyes, focusing your sight as the fish comes to sight, stuck between the current and the rocks. With a deep breath, you release your hold, striking it right through its body. 

“Good job, sweetheart. Go get it!” He shouts, giving you a big smooch on the cheek as he pushes you to claim your hunt. You giggle, feeling absolutely proud. 

As you and Neteyam proudly display the fish you have both caught, he watches with a big smile. “My mighty fishermen, now let’s go home and show mama.”

Bracelets were enough to make his kids happy back then; beads and trinkets he found along his hunts. They would keep it for years to come and Jake thought he had cracked the code. But the gifts turned to few and then none and the ones they kept had burned along the crossfire. He became stricter– tougher on them.

He knew being a marine best than a father. 

When his children looked at him, it wasn’t of love— he wasn’t dense with how their shoulders stiffened around him. Jake thought it was a good thing, to keep them all in a straight line, for them to learn discipline early. But as they grew older, they were getting harder to reach and no amount of presents could make them come back. 

“Lo’ak started it!” Your eyebrows were heavily knitted, fangs bared as you showed him the broken bracelet. You tightly held onto the beads, afraid that you’d lose more of it. 

Your brother had immediately turned defensive, shoulders tense. “If you hadn’t been in the way, it would’ve been avoided!”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jake quickly interrupted you both, massaging his temples. “One night. One night without any of you bickering. You’re older, __, why can’t you be the bigger person?” 

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t growing younger and so was your dad. Jake never took the time to craft, unlike before. The bracelet was from him and it would’ve made you feel better if he had listened. 

“No more of this, you hear me? It’s just some stupid bracelet. Jesus Christ.”

Jake wasn’t perfect. He knows that– knows his children deserve better. He fears that when people ask them of him, they’d tell them how great of an olo’eyktan he is– how he fought against the sky-people, but never how he was as a father. 

Your father loves you– loves everyone dearly. He would burn the whole world for his children– but the thing about fathers, they have an odd way of showing it.   

As they finally near the large battleship, his hand pressed on the pager. “Babygirl, do you hear me?”

Your head perked up at the static coming from the pager discarded on the table right in front of you. Your body jerked against the binds desperately, “Yes, yes– sir I’m here!” 

But he couldn’t hear you, not without you pressing on its button in return. 

“If you’re listening, I’m coming, okay? Mama and I are coming to get you.”

You let out a stuttered breath, the beginnings of a sob bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you. It was no use anyway. You felt deflated as you sank down into your chair. Tears welled in your eyes, building itself up like a dam. 

Jake anxiously waited on the other line, expecting to hear something back from you, but all he heard was the thump of his own racing heartbeat resonating in his ear as time seemed to stand still. His lips trembled as he softly spoke again, “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”

But you didn’t. You didn’t since everyone arrived at Awal’tu and for months, this was the first time you’ve heard of it again. It made your chest tighten in response, stomach knotting. 

Oh Eywa, you missed your father. Missed him dearly. 

This one time he had told you he had loved you. This one time where you needed to hear it the most and you couldn’t say it back. It’s true that your father had stopped being affectionate– but you’ve grown and stopped being as loving as you were as a kid too. You will always be your parent’s child– your daddy’s girl. 

“I love you too.” 

Life was so much simpler back then, and if Jake had just spoken to you, he may have figured out that his words had more value than any presents he could find. He fears that he might be too late. 

“We have to split up.” 

“Split up?” Kiri shouts incredulously, holding onto Tuk tightly. 

“There are at least three ships here, she has to be in at least one of them.”

“We’ll take the one from the south,” Ao’nung says, Tsireya quickly trailing behind. Kiri groans, knowing she couldn’t do anything but follow. Roxto followed her as they all nodded to each other, speaking in unsaid terms. Be safe. Please. 

Lo’ak trots ahead, letting out another eager yip as they make their way towards the distant ship far up north. You had to be on one of them. You had to. 

As he stealthily moves through the area, searching every nook and cranny, Lo’ak is determined to find you, leaving no stone unturned nor any corners checked. The lack of people around was suspicious and it made the atmosphere more eerie. As he scanned every cell, his eyes caught a battered Na’vi, head hung low– you. Quickly, he broke down the door with heavy locks.

“Lo’ak!” 

“__!” He immediately rushes to you, taking off the restraints with brute force. Without a second thought, you engulfed him in a hug, nearly pushing him off his feet while he frantically searched for any serious injury, eyes swiftly scanning the cuts on your skin. “We have to go now.” 

Both of you hurriedly try to exit the ship, steps heavily thumping across the metal floors. It was silent. Too silent. Like there hadn’t been a war at all. The ship was quiet, other than the crashing waves and footsteps. Not to mention the lack of recoms surrounding the area, you grew more and more nervous. “Where’s dad? He’s–” 

“On another ship, we have to go.” He pulled you closer the edge where his Ilu had been waiting, 

“Lo’ak, we’re not leaving him, are we?” 

“Dad can handle it, I’m only here to take you home. Now please, come with me–” 

“I know you don’t want to leave him too.” his lips drew into a thin line in response, immediately growing silent. His heart was thumping wildly, knowing that the decision was his to make. “Lo’ak, we can’t leave him.” 

“Fuck it. Let’s go.”

“Run– run, go!” Lo’ak's call was still echoing in your head as you sprinted, bullets whizzing past in all directions. Fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins as you darted and weaved throughout the area, momentarily hiding behind a steel wall. 

Both of you had been searching for Jake and everyone but despite your best efforts, the only thing you were ever able to find was more trouble. What was supposed to be a relatively straightforward endeavor had quickly become an arduous task. You feared for your life and your brother’s. 

“We have to jump now, __.” He pulls you out from your thoughts, panting heavily.

“We haven’t found dad yet or anyone– they could be in danger!” 

“Listen, I’m not about to lose you in another dumb decision of mine. We’re going, do you understand?” He tugs on your wrists tightly. The look on his face told you that his decision wasn’t open for any negotiation anymore– this was about you and your safety. You offer a solemn nod, feeling a knot forming in your chest as your frown deepens.

As the shots come to an end, the avatars begin to disperse, frantically searching for both of you. Lo'ak forcefully pulls you to your feet and dashes towards the edge ready to take a leap, but the ship lets out a sharp screech as it leans further and further downwards into the vast ocean, both of you caught completely off guard. Water quickly rushes up to bathe the deck in a sea of white froth and foam, its relentless waves rocks the boat back and forth so harshly that you fall to your knees. 

Lo’ak frantically looks around for something to hold onto, but it all happens too quickly; just as his hands latch onto a railing, it snaps and he begins to tumble along with the current and down an open trapdoor. He quickly holds on to its rusty edge, “__!”

You immediately slide towards him, grabbing his wrist. “I got you, just hang on.” While your other hand clutched your bloodied side, you groaned as you felt the skin surrounding it stretch, ripping more and more as you tried to hold on. “Lo’ak, please.”

“I can’t– I can’t!” Both your grips are loosening and you choked out a sob, feeling absolutely helpless. You could feel it– his fingers slowly slipping from your wrist. Your heart hammered on your chest as you extended your other hand. 

“Brother please, grab my other hand,” 

Another wave crashes towards both of you, and in that moment your grip on his wrist slips. You can feel the panic rise within you as you shout out his name desperately. His body falls, water completely engulfing him.

Without any hesitation, you jump down after him.

You hastily scramble out of the water, eyes wide and scanning the wreckage that surrounds you for any sign of Lo'ak. All around you there is nothing but the ship itself, pushing you down with it. It loudly creaks once again, the sound vibrating off the walls. 

You try to regain your composure– breathing slowly and steadying the beat of your heart, only for it to race yet again as another body emerges from the water, coughing violently.

“Lo’ak–!” 

“I can’t find an exit.” He says, breathing heavily. 

“I’ll go check again, you stay here.” The water was already rising and your frantic state wasn’t helping. 

you said as the water level began to climb higher and higher. Your frantic state wasn’t helping either of your cause, but there was no time to think of that now. In order for the two of you to make it out alive, one of you had to remain calm and focused. You had to be just that– the bigger person. The big sister Lo’ak needs right now.

“No! You’re bleeding, I’ll go look.” He protests and you both exchange banters.

“I am your older sister, Lo’ak, listen to me– just let me do this.”

“I don’t care. You’re hurt already.”

“Lo’ak, don’t be so stubborn right now.”

“I’m a better swimmer than you!” 

“Why are you being so stubborn, just stay here–!”

“Just let me do this for you, Neteyam!” 

And that stuns you both. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He croaks, the words barely escaping his trembling lips. His guilt is palpable in the air as he hangs his head low in shame, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him. Lo’ak had to let it out now. Now that you’re here– now that you and him might never come out alive. “Maybe if I didn’t insist on coming there, we would still be back at home– with him. Maybe if I didn’t force everyone to come along, he would not have the need to save us.” 

“Lo’ak, please..” 

“But I did– I did, and now he’s gone. I lost him and I can’t lose you too,” You stayed there, like the water surrounding you was anchoring you on that very spot. You could only stare at him as he poured his every guilt. Your heart ached for Lo’ak– Lo’ak, your baby brother. Lo’ak who tried so desperately to be seen. “It’s my fault, __. I was just so jealous– so jealous that I forced you to join in because maybe then, you’d want to spend time with me too. I wanted what you had with Neteyam, what Kiri was to Tuk.” 

“But I miss him, I miss my brother so bad.” Lo’ak continues to weep, tugging on his hair– hurting himself. “I hate that my body didn’t move towards you– towards him that night. Maybe then, I would’ve said goodbye. Maybe then, I would’ve told him I was sorry.” 

You slowly swam to him, awkwardly taking his hands. Siblings were such a funny concept. They could say the harshest, most meanest thing– hurt you to an extent because they know you more than anyone else. But they would do anything– absolutely anything, just to keep you safe. Hell, would give a kidney if it means that you’d live. You miss Neteyam, terribly so, but does losing him make you less of a sister?

“I’m sorry, __. I’m sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but every time you looked at me, all I could see was him. I miss Neteyam. I miss home. I want to go home.”

“We’re going home, okay?” You pull him close in your arms, burying your head on the curve of his neck as you try to contain a sob. “I see you, brother.” 

“I’ve been nothing but difficult.” You feel his breath hitch as he tries to steady his breathing, heartbeat slowing down. “I don’t like how everyone has become since he died.” 

“Me too, Lo’ak. Me too.” You whisper, rubbing circles on his back.  “I’m so sorry. I’m here now.”

As the two of you hold each other tightly, the water continues to rise around you with no sign of relenting. You both know that it will only be a matter of time until this ship finally gives in to its fate and sinks beneath the surface yet neither of you want to let go. There was something comforting with having Lo’ak near now that he had spoken of his troubles– something light. 

“We’re going home.”

This was it, you thought, this is the end.

☆ mauve here! i know this has been long overdue ;( BUT FINALLY, IT'S HERE. don't really know if i should be adding another chapter or just stop with an open ending hahah hopefully this was painful enough because my brain is bleeding and i can't wait to start another series. -

please tell me how i did! i really enjoy interacting w my moots nd readers ;( it's like a reward (ALSO i'm sorry if i forgot to tag someone! some of the names don't really pop up too ;(

smooch!

tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnger @abbersreads @historygeekqueen @anxietydrogz @kau7itz @winxschester @1mawh0re @thefirst-ofus @tsoomie @wheeeelys @lunamhm565i @ayanelisa @sully-stick-together @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @jackiehollanderr @dreamsholdpowers @aimsro @violilaqrs

© avatarkv, do not repost.

#mauve writes ☆ #family angst #family feels #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

[sourpeachsayshi]

omg peach if you could write a little something for me and sukuna in a garden 🌺 thank you!!

༺tags༻ virgin!princess reader; demon king sukuna; haunting au; reader is watched; suggestive; describes the reader's hair "sukuna plays with he strand"; size difference; all characters are 21+

༺notes: I want to write more of this!! thank you for sending this ask in!! ༻

your palace is cursed by the being who originally built it. countless of stories have been shared between the maids and workers. as a result keeping staff was difficult, but as the princess you had nowhere else to run.

this is your home.

you’ve never thought much of it until recently, when you began spotting a pair of red eyes in the shadows. when you started hearing the echo of a dark laugh through the empty hallways. feel the tickle of hot air against your neck whenever you undress, before catching a tall, broad figure in the reflection of your mirror.

you were being watched.

your heart flutters wearily in your chest, while you hold the lantern in your hand. you're light on your feet, careful not to make a sound. "momo?" you whisper, your eyes squinting in search for the warm fur of your beloved kitten. you don't know what possessed her to bound out of your bedroom and run down the hallways so erratically. but here you are now, all alone on the massive palace grounds trying to find her.

the wind brushes against your cheek, making you spin on your heels nervously, but you see nothing and can only hear the soft rustle of the leaves from the trees. you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, swallowing your fear as you continue trudging between the bushes and flowers.

you don't want to leave her out here all by herself.

"momo?" you repeat, speaking a little louder this time even though there's a crack in your voice.

you just can't stop thinking about those red eyes.

you stand in place for a few seconds, slumping your shoulders in defeat. you're unable to shake off the eerie feeling despite the peaceful scene around you. you've moved deeper into the garden now, the beautiful grounds bathing underneath the glow of the soft moon. your bare feet cold against the earth.

you sniffle quietly to yourself, rubbing the tip of your icy nose. you conclude that you'll just have to ask the guards to find her in the morning, and as you take a step back to turn around and return to your quarters, you feel yourself hit a tree.

your heart quivers. your robe is caught within it's sharp branches, but as you drop your guard to try and untangle yourself, you freeze when you notice the figure behind you move.

"shouldn't you be in bed, your highness?"

the blood drains from your face, your ears ring out of fear at the sound of the low, gruff voice.

you slowly drop your hands by your side. your fingers relaxing uneasily before letting go of the lantern.

it lands on the ground perfectly with a tiny thump.

the catch tightens against your waist, only then do you recognize the touch of a hand.

"you're usually asleep at this hour," he adds on.

the shadow moves, circling around you like a predator whose finally caught it's prey. your eyes draw up at the presence of his daunting height, your lips parting in awe identifying those familiar irises.

there was a heavy aura surrounding him, the crisp air now thick and making it harder for you to breathe. he's wearing a black robe, most of his chest exposed to reveal the intricate tattoos on his body. his hair reminded you of autumn, the fiery change of the leaves just before they turned a muted brown. he looked human, just like you, but the chill seizing your spine was a staunch reminder that he isn't.

he's not of this world. he's nothing like you.

"looking for something?" he teases, bringing forward the hand hidden behind his back.

he slightly unfurls his fingers, revealing your precious kitten in his palm. she somehow looks even smaller, her paws latched to his finger as she nips her small fangs into his skin.

you tremble as you reach for her, but the being moves his hand behind his back.

he clicks his tongue, curling his spine forward to meet your face. "not even a thank you, your highness?" he remarks with disapproval, feigning his distaste by pinching his brow.

"please," you whisper quietly, fully consumed by fear.

"remembered your manners, I see..." he chuckles, his free hand moving to touch the strands of your hair. his eyes fall to the lock between his fingers, which he twirls with playful ease. "my wife had a pet too. a white cat named yuki..."

your chest rises and falls heavily when you notice the distance in his eyes. the red deepens as memories bleed through but he is quick to blink back into the present.

"please don't hurt her...or-or me..." you beg, remembering your old maiden stating that if you show respect to the ancient demon king, then he may spare your life.

the being quirks his brow. "I've had my eyes on you this whole time, princess. have I hurt you yet?"

your heart drops to the pit of the stomach at his confirmation, affirming what you've been suspicious of this whole time.

you shake your head no.

he releases your hair, his fingers curling carefully around your throat. "thank me properly," he commands, using his thumb to outline the curve of your bottom lip.

your cheeks burn. no man has ever touched you this intimately before. but your move on instinct, submitting to his will in the hopes to leave his clutches. you stand on your tiptoes to meet him halfway, pressing your lips into the corner of his mouth where you leave a chaste peck.

you drop back on your heels but he doesn't loosen his hold just yet. your pulse skips over itself when he tightens his fingers instead, his eyes boring into your own.

they looked somber.

"you look so much like her," he whispers, the gentle tone of his voice catching you off guard as everything else around you goes still.

seconds pass until he unravels himself. taking your shaking hands into his own where he carefully hands off your kitten. you curl the tiny animal into your chest, your body tingling unexpectedly.

"you better run back before they notice that you're gone,"he warns, the timbre of his voice rough and unsettling. "or before I decide to keep you here for good."

you squeeze you legs unexpectedly as you nod your head, then dash back towards the palace, and leaving your lantern behind.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x female reader #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen au #sukuna au

[baby-yongbok]

Paralyzed

Incubus!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

🦇 Genre: Smut, The Horror & thriller type.

🦇 Warnings: Knife Play, Mentions of Fear, Descriptions of nightmares.

🦇 A/N: Chan's laugh in the Rock star trailer was my reference for the laughing here. The way he sounded in that trailer overall heavily inspired this. + I've never written anything like this before 😭I wanted to do something cool for Halloween, so I hope that you enjoy!

☠️Masterlist☠️

"How are you holding up without me?" You held the phone to your ear as you made your way from the kitchen with a glass of water in hand. 

"I love it, it's so quiet." You smile as your boyfriend scoffs on the other line. Ever since the two of you moved in together you and Jisung had been attached at the hip. The only reason that he's not home right now is because he's in the states with his company for a team building retreat. 

"Oh yeah? So you're telling me that you enjoy sleeping alone?" You freeze for a second as you reach the door frame of your shared bedroom. The truth is that sleep hasn't been coming to you as easily as it was when Jisung was home. You've been experiencing sleep paralysis since the night that he left and it's made your nights more than unpleasant. 

"Well I actually do miss you in that department." You can hear the smile in his voice as he tells you how much he misses you too. 

He changes the subject shortly after, explaining his schedule for the day but you’re not really listening. You stare at your bedroom doorway from your spot on the bed, the familiar feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine. Your nights have been the same for the past four days. You wake up lying on your side, unable to move your body, a loud cracking sound fills the room as if the space around you is crumbling and your heartbeat is replaced by the fast ticking of a clock. Your eyes are fixed on the doorframe as you lie there helplessly and that’s when you see him. He stands in your doorway, staring at you with a blank expression. Actually, he has no expression, he has no face. You hear the echo of maniacal laughter before he takes a step towards you and that’s when you wake up. He never makes it over to you but it’s been absolute torture every night that it’s happened.

“Baby?” You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Jisung calling you to tell you that he has to get to a meeting . 

You reluctantly say your goodbyes and then you’re left alone for the night. You decide to turn on your LED lights and put on some music so that the space doesn’t feel too eerie. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to distract yourself from the dread building in your chest. Maybe if you stay up all night you’ll be okay. Jisung comes back in a day, you can sacrifice sleep until then right? You stay up for two more hours before fatigue hits you hard, you try to fight through it but you barely make it another twenty minutes with your eyes open. 

You dim your lights and put on some softer music, maybe if you set the mood and make yourself feel good you won't have such a horrible night. You settle into bed, grabbing your vibrator from the drawer in your nightstand and closing your eyes. You might as well make yourself feel good in every way you possibly can. 

You turn on the toy and start to tease yourself, trailing it from your collar bones and down to your nipples. They pebble at the sensation, a deep sigh leaves your parted lips as you think about all of the ways that you want Jisung to touch you when he gets back. You run the toy over the sensitive skin of your stomach and hips, moaning a bit as you feel arousal pool at your core. Slowly, you run the toy over your clothed slit, barely applying any pressure. Your back arches off of the bed as you beg yourself for more, you repeat the action, applying more pressure this time. A deep satisfied moan leaves your lips as you give in to your desires, you press the head of the toy to your clit and shiver at the pleasure that runs up your legs. You buck your hips into the toy as you chase your high, you can feel yourself clenching around nothing as a gush of arousal floods out of you. Your orgasm is getting closer and closer as the knot in your stomach tightens, you smile a bit as you finally feel relaxed. Your free hand toys with your hard nipple as your orgasm peaks through the pleasure but you're quickly pulled out of your bliss by the loud cracking of thunder echoing through your apartment. 

“Fucking hell.”  You jump at the sound, quickly sitting up in your bed and looking over towards your window. The rain starts falling faster, beating against the glass violently. You sigh in disappointment, deciding to give up and go to bed before anything else spoils your mood. 

You fall asleep easier than you have the previous nights, you decided to see if sleeping on your back could help prevent your night terror from happening. Maybe a change in position could lead to a change in experience, or at least you hope so. Your dream is simple tonight, your mind transports you to a place where evil doesn’t exist, where human ability has no bounds and you can do anything you think of. It’s perfect until you hear it, the magical laughter of the faceless demon haunting you. Suddenly the world around you goes dark, just a second ago you were flying freely, soaring through the sky to your heart's content but now similarly to your heart you’re dropping. You’re falling from a height that no human could possibly survive, your screams are muted by the pressure on your chest, you can feel it all. Why does it feel so real? Just as you’re about to hit the ground your eyes open and you jolt forward, you can feel your heart hammering in your chest as you try to catch your breath. 

A light chuckle falls from your lips as your dream replays in your head, at least you didn't have sleep paralysis, right? Right? You glance over towards the door frame and your pulse picks up all over again. He’s there, but this time he has a face and he’s staring. You hold your breath as he takes a step forward, you expect to wake up, you always wake up when he steps towards you but nothing has changed. He takes another step and you can feel your blood run cold in your veins. You close your eyes as you will yourself to wake up. 

“It’s just a dream, this isn’t real.” You chant to yourself hoping that you can bring yourself back to reality.

 Once you’ve said it a couple of times you open your eyes and reluctantly shift your gaze over to the door. You sigh in relief when your eyes don’t land on the figure haunting you. Suddenly a crack of thunder echoes through your room much louder than it did earlier, this time it’s deafening. You jump at the sound and suddenly you’re waking up again. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you breathe erratically, your LED lights are flashing red and the music that you put on before bed has gone off. You look over towards your nightstand for the remote to your lights but you can’t find it. As you turn to look on the other nightstand your heart drops. He’s standing at the end of your bed, a wicked smile pulling at his lips and a karambit knife in his hand. 

You freeze, staring at him with tears welling up in your eyes. You don’t know why but you can’t bring yourself to look away from him. He tilts his head as he holds your eye contact, he slowly brings his knife up and drags it across the end of your bed frame, the loud scratching sound of the metal rings through your ears and triggers your primal urge to run, you want to get as far away from him as possible but you can’t move.

Your eyes trail down to his hands, his finger tips are blackened like they’ve been grasping at coals. A tear falls from your eye when he wraps his hand around the end of your bed frame and pulls himself forward. He lifts himself over the frame, crawling towards you slowly like a spider on a careful hunt. He crawls over your body, his arms caging you to the mattress. You stay still, propped up on your elbows, unable to move, paralyzed. Tears trail down your cheeks and you try to hold your breath. 

You study his face, outside of this situation he wouldn’t look scary at all. He has full lips and shiny jet black hair. His eyes are a piercing gray color and his jawline is sharp and bold. Wait, are you seriously checking out the object of your nightmares right now?

He tilts his head to the other side like he’s inspecting you. You try to speak but you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Suddenly, the walls around you begin to crack, the sound of plaster crumbling in on itself fills your ears and your heartbeat is once again replaced by the sound of a clock ticking wildly. 

“Wake.” You can hear a voice, is it his voice? How could it be his if his lips didn’t move? 

The voice echoes through your head and suddenly you’re able to move, you open and close your hands to make sure that you’re no longer paralyzed but even with your new found freedom you can’t seem to look away from him. You open your mouth, preparing your quivering lips to speak to the entity over you. 

“Who are you?” You ask in a whisper and he leans in a bit closer, you lean back against your pillow in an attempt to distance yourself from the creature. 

“Who do you want me to be?” His voice echoes through your head and suddenly his features start to change. His face slowly begins to morph into Jisung’s and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Jagiya.” An eerie mock up of your boyfriend's voice echoes through your head in a teasing and sing songy tone. You shiver at the sound of it but just as the features settle they’re shifting again. This time they morph into your co-worker and close friend Minho. You bite your tongue as he leans in closer, only a couple of inches of still air keeping you apart. 

“Please stop.” You whisper, pleading with him to go back to his original form. 

“Such a pretty thing.” The words pan from ear to ear as if he were whispering to you. You can feel yourself involuntarily clench around nothing as you press your thighs together. What is happening?

His face morphs back to the one that you saw originally but his smile is gone. He looks more serious now, more focused. 

“What do you want?” Your voice is hoarse as you force your lips to move. You watch as he backs up from you, nearly sitting up completely before lunging forward and nearly closing the gap between the two of you. You yelp at the sudden movement squeezing your eyes shut and crying a bit harder.

“You.” His response echoes through your head in a loud growl and suddenly you feel weighed down to your bed. When you open your eyes he’s gone but you’re paralyzed once again. 

Your bedroom is dark and the sound of the storm outside is drowned out by your labored breaths. Sweat beads at your hairline as your eyes dart around the room. You nearly miss his figure standing next to your bed in your hasty search. He’s staring down at you, his karambit held loosely between his thumb and pointer finger. He seems comfortable as he observes you like a predator ready to catch its prey. He silently raises his knife and brings it to your exposed ankle. If you could move you’d flinch at the contact of the cold metal against your skin. He slowly starts dragging the knife up the exposed skin of your leg and you squeeze your eyes shut expecting to feel pain radiate through your body but instead you feel the opposite. You feel euphoric. 

He stops once he’s reached your hip, your panties obstructing his path. He looks back over at you, holding your eye contact as he hooks the knife into the hem of your underwear and swiftly cuts them open. He smiles at you and a moan passes your lips. You can feel yourself melting. Your body is slowly giving in to the entity, your fear is fading into pleasure. The line between the two is slowly dissolving. 

“More.” The word leaves your mouth before you can even process what you’re saying. A soft yet eerie chuckle echoes through your head as he runs the knife up under your t-shirt. The rips through the fabric with his blade somehow leaving you unscathed. Once your shirt is open completely he slowly trails the knife over to your nipple. The bud pebbles quickly as he teases it with the tip of his karambit. A moan falls from your lips and your eyes roll back into your head. 

“Wake.” With this said you can move again but the last thing on your mind is getting away. You feel so hungry, so desperate for contact and your brain is telling you that he’s the only one that can give it to you. “Pretty girl wants more?”

You nod at the echo of his words in your head as you stare up at him. He really is handsome, his smile is charming and his eyes are hypnotizing. Hypnotizing. Are you being hypnotized? You fight with yourself as lust floods your senses, the only thing that you can manage to think is that you need more. More, more, more. 

“Open.” Your legs spread wide for him as if you are a puppet under his control. A small whimper leaves you as the night air hits your exposed cunt. Your mouth falls open along with it, sticking out your tongue to him. 

He lifts the knife and brings it to your mouth, lightly sliding the blade against your tongue. Your mouth closes around it slightly as you drool onto the blade, the taste of metal flooding your tongue. Once he’s satisfied he drags it from your mouth and brings it down to your core. He cuts your panties on the other side and you sigh at the feeling of the wet blade on your skin. He trails it from your hip and over to your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves lightly. 

“Chan.” The name falls off of your lips in a moan but you don’t know who’s name that is. Is it his? How would you know his name? All of your questions and confusion leave you when he slides the dull back of the knife down your slick folds. “Please.”

“You like me?” He smiles down at you as you nod your head, hips bucking against the knife desperately.

 Just as you’re adjusting to the sensation of the metal against your core it’s taken from you. You whine in protest but your lips quickly part in a moan once you feel his fingers replace his blade. They’re warm compared to the metal and the feeling of them pressing against your clit is dizzying. Chan slides his middle and pointer finger between your folds, lubricating them with your slick arousal before they press lightly at your entrance. You hadn’t even noticed the excessive moans falling from your lips. The need to be touched is deafening as you grind into his hand. After what feels like forever he finally breaches your hole and a cry of pleasure erupts from your throat. He slides his fingers all the way in and curls them, finding your sweet spot right away. 

Jisung has never made you feel like this and you swear that he’s the best person that you’ve ever slept with. The way that you feel right now is intoxicating, addicting. You feel so good but all that you can think about is having more. You need more. 

“Your flesh is greedy, beauty.” He pumps his fingers into your heat. Fucking you at an unworldly pace. Your tongue lulls out of your mouth as you soak up the pleasure. Your legs shake lightly as your release climbs up your spine. Your eyes find his and you stare at him as he watches your fucked out expression. Your eyes are low and lidded and your chest is rising and falling rapidly, you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure that your skin feels like it could melt right off. 

“Fuck” You whine as your pussy clenches around his fingers, he picks up the pace just a bit and before you know it you’re falling apart on his fingers. Your legs remain wide open as they shake, you grip the sheets underneath you and your back arches off of the mattress. 

Chan inhales deeply as he watches you. His eyes darken, his Sclera becoming cloudy with a hazy smoke. He brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and pushes them between his plump lips, you watch him as you come down from your high. His long tongue wraps around his fingers and you hear a moan echo through your head. He closes his eyes as he savors the taste of you. You notice that as he sucks his fingers clean his body slightly grows in size, his strong arms strain a bit more against his raven colored shirt and the bulge in his pants thickens. 

“You’re heavenly.” He pulls his fingers from between his lips and lowers them to yours. You open your mouth immediately, welcoming his digits onto your tongue. You swirl the muscle over his blackened digits, relishing in the mixture of your arousal with his saliva. “I’ll fuck the heaven out of you.”

He snatches his fingers from your mouth and suddenly your eyes roll back into your head. Darkness swallows you and an overwhelming pang of fear hits you all over again. Your heart is pounding in your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears.

“C- Chan?” Your voice is shaky as you call out for him. 

“Relax.” You hear his voice clearly echoing through your left ear and now your right. 

“You want me, don’t you, beauty?” His voice is smooth and alluring, you relax at the sound of it. All of your fear once again melting into pleasure. You shake your head yes as you blindly answer him. 

Silence looms over you and the air feels thick and hot around you. You take a deep breath but the wind is quickly knocked out of you when you feel pressure on your chest. The weight is swiftly followed by the intense stretch of his cock entering you. The burn of him splitting you open is unreal. There isn’t a single person on earth who could compare to the girth of his cock. He slides into you at a moderate pace, barely giving you time to adjust to him, your pussy swallows his member greedily dripping as he squeezes himself inside. 

“F-Fuck” You throw your head back as a wave a euphoria burns through your nerves, overriding your system and leaving you a pliant fucked out mess against your mattress. “S-so big.” 

He finally bottoms out, filling you completely and kissing your cervix perfectly. Chan doesn’t give you a second to adjust before he’s pulling his hips back and snapping them into you. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream and your hands desperately grab at the sheets. A tear falls from your eye as you bite your lip, small whimpers erupting from your throat with every thrust.

“Too much, so much, oh my god.” You reach up to touch him but your hands are instantly pinned above your head. You cry out as he continues to fuck into you, stretching you relentlessly. 

His long tongue dips out of his mouth and licks at your hard nipples causing a moan to slip from your lips. He swirls the bud around getting it nice and wet before moving to the other one. His tongue flicks the sensitive nub at the same rhythm that he’s fucking you, showing no mercy to your sensitive breast. 

“I’m gonna -“ Your second orgasm washes over you before you can finish your sentence. Your pussy spasms around his thick length and you can hear his groans ringing through your ears. They’re deep and animalistic, they’re desperate and oh so pretty. You lie there, mailable and fucked out as he continues to pound you.

“Give me more. Feed me, beauty.” Chan grabs your hips tilting them upward while he jackhammers into your dripping cunt. Gaspy screams fall from your lips as he uses you, before you know it your third orgasm is rushing over you. Despite your blacked out vision it feels like the room is spinning and you swear that your sheets are soaked with sweat. 

You feel his cock twitch inside of you and seconds later he’s spilling his seed into your abused cunt. You moan at the feeling of his burning hot cum filling you as you grind against his pelvis. He pulls out of you swiftly and you whine at the emptiness. You feel his cum dripping out of you and the weight on your chest shifts slightly. Silence surrounds you again and you can feel the fear start to creep in. Just as you’re about to call his name you feel his thickness prodding at your anus and you gasp. 

“No, no, no. Too big, please.” You can hear his maniacal chuckle ring through your ears followed by his sweet and charming voice as he breaches your hole, pushing into you slowly. 

“Let me use your greedy flesh.” He continues to slide in as tears trail down your cheeks. Every burning inch of him makes your pussy clench and your clit throb. “Let me rid you of your innocence.” 

He fills you to the hilt, plugging your hole perfectly. You wince as he draws his hips back, dragging out of you slowly before plunging back in at the same pace. A string of whines fall from your lips as he fucks you, you can hear his moans echo through you loudly as he picks up his pace. 

“So tight, what a sin you are.” You whimper Chan’s name in response as you struggle to keep your legs open. He grabs both of your calves and brings them up so that your knees are touching your chest. You scream at the change of pressure and depth, as his cock hits spots that you didn’t know existed. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” You hiss as a breathtaking orgasm hits you, you gasp for air as he continues to pound you, gradually picking up the pace by the second. “C-Chan I can’t, please.” 

“You wanted me. You wanted this.” He snaps his hips into you harshly, spilling into you yet again. You can hear him inhale deeply, smoothly before exhaling violently. “Take it.” 

He swiftly pulls out leaving you empty again and the weight on your chest disappears. Your legs fall back against the mattress and the feeling of euphoria slowly dissipates. It’s silent yet again, the only sound present is the heavy rain against your window. The loud crack of thunder fills your room for the third time tonight and you can hear Chan’s voice just as loud as it accompanies the storm.

“My beauty.” A wet kiss is left behind your ear followed by his loud maniacal laugh and your blood runs cold. 

Suddenly all of the pleasure that you felt is gone, there’s nothin but fear present in your body. You scream as you jolt up, panting and blinking quickly in an attempt to adjust your eyes to the light around you. Wait, the light is on? The soft sound of your music bounces off of the walls and your dim LED lights illuminate your space. You look down and notice that your blanket is covering you. You slowly peel it back and examine your attire, nothing is cut, nothing is disheveled, everything is just how it was when you fell asleep. Your eyes dart around the room to search for him but you’re completely alone. 

You slowly step out of bed, the moment that you stand from the mattress you sway. Your legs feel weak and tired as you drag them across the floor. You make your way to the bathroom, and as soon as you reach the sink you stare into the mirror. You look fine, tired and sweaty but fine. There’s a slight blush running over your cheeks and your skin feels like it’s burning. 

It was just a wet dream, a terrifying and extremely realistic wet dream. You turn on the cold water and splash your face a couple of times to cool yourself down. You feel a slight burn behind your left ear and bring your hand up to feel the hot skin. You look in the mirror and your heart nearly stops when your eyes land on a red symbol burned into your skin. Your eyes widen as you stumble backwards towards the door. This can’t be right, this isn’t possible. It wasn’t a dream? 

You rush back over to your bedroom to find your phone. You need to call someone, anyone, Jisung. You unlock your phone, frantically looking for his contact information but a text from him completely stops you in your tracks. The color drains from your face as you sit and stare at the photo that he sent you. It’s him and his co-workers at the bar of the retreat but there’s one new face, one that you recognize. Chan is next to your boyfriend. Arm around his shoulder and drink in hand. You stare at your screen silently but your heart is screaming in fear. You read Jisungs text over and over in disbelief and tears start to fall from your eyes.

Met the team today, the guy next to me is my new assistant. Can’t wait for you to meet him. 

It was just a dream right?

This is just a dream, right?

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #bangchan skz #bangchan #bang christopher chan #chris bang #straykids #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagine #skz bang chan #skz chris bang #skz chris #christopher bang #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan au #bang chan stray kids #stray kids smut #skz smut #halloween #bang chan smut #chan smut #kinktober #halloween smut

[kruegerspillow]

‘Your touch devours me, baby,’ A werewolf Soap fanfic.

Creator's note: I have appeared outta nowhere again, with the most random fic in the world. Well, enjoy this, keep in mind that English isn't my first language, and this hasn't been proofread. Eat up girlies.

Summary: You knew that Soap was a lycanthrope, and you've opened up to him about being interested in learning about their species. But there's one thing that he didn't give you a heads up at.. his heat cycle.

Genre: Real kinky smut.. MDNI ! 🔞

Words: 2,121 (including these creator's notes, warning, summary, genre, etc..)

Warning: NSFW, absolute feral Soap, a lot of swearing, no mentions of y/n, reader is AFAB, Soap is a wayy submissive here. PiV, breeding, brief mentions of blood, Soap got caught humping on a pillow (yes, you read that right.), CNC (?), SOAP IS SO CARING HERE ASKASKSk, super soft Soap !! After care.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish, the charming werewolf that everyone knows. He's known for his charisma, and of course, his heightened capibilities.

The base had been oddly quiet after the mission, most of the soldiers had already went to the usual pub to celebrate another succesful mission. Though, you felt like someone was missing, which gave you an eery feeling. Thus, you decided to walk your way back to base to check out on that person— Johnny.

You walked out of the group of soldiers, the unpleasent smell of alcohol lingering around you— you squeezed your way through the crowd, wincing and muttering a small apology for every person whom you bumped into. As you finally succeed to get your way out of the crowded pub, you wandered your way back to the base— goosebump forming on your arms everytime the wind breezes.

Your boots crunched against the cold, hard ground. You made it back to the base, before walking your way to the quarters. As you turned to one of the corners, you froze on your spot.

A familiar voice rings into your ears, before you recognized that Scottish accent. Though, as you walked closer to his dorm door, you heard those familiar sounds of pleasures— along with bed creaking and the wet noises.

“Fuckfuckfuck, [name].. feel so fuckin' good, grinding against me like that..” You heard him choke out, followed by a high-pitched whine.

The familiar heat creeps up onto your face, feeling your body jolt slightly at the sound of him calling out for you like that. Your hand rests on his doorknob, debating on whether to open the door and intervene, or.. listen to his noises of pleasure.

Well, the door creaked.

You got into his room quickly, before closing the door behind you. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, before you locked the door to his dorm. You stood there on the doorframe, before your eyes met with his. Soap had never looked so guilty in his life. His body shudders against the pillow, before he completely froze— his hand grips the sheet, just enough for his knuckles to turn white.

“C'mon, don't stop on my account, Soap. Go on with what you're doing,” You grunted out, crossing your arms as you looked down at him. His face went completely red, lips parting as his tail wags in excitement.

“Shit, [name], you.. you shouldn't be here.” He murmured out, sounding more cautious as his cock twitched on the pillow. Your scent lingers around him, his head spinning from your strong smell. His breath hitches, precum spreaded on his pillow.

You decided to take matters in your own hand, quite literally.

You walked even closer to him, before leaning down to face him, enough for Soap to feel your breath against his hot face. He bit his lip, stifling any noises he's about to let out. One of your hand reaches down to support you on the bed, before the other went to his twitching cock.

“Fuck! Don't.” He hissed out, warning you for the consenquences of his heat, “I dont want to risk hurting you, bonnie.”

You maintain eye contact, eyes rolling at his words before you crawled onto the bed. You were on your knees, legs beside his trembling thighs as your right hand kept itself on the tip of his cock.

“Try me, Johnny.” Your voice was low and raspy. His tail immediately perks up once again as he tried to hold himself back. He tried to resist wagging his tail, pushing the pillow that was sprawled with his precum away. His eyes showed how badly he's asking for it.

“Baby.. shit, at least keep distance with me,” He whined out, afraid to hurt you in any kind of form. “Don't wanna fuckin' hurt you.. Get out before it's too late,”

You ignored his pleas, before you stroked his cock, your hand twisting everytime it went against the tip of his cock.

“[name], bonnie, fuuck..” He whined out, trying to resist his hips from bucking up as both of his hands clenched the sheets beneath the both of you. He had practically given up on trying to stop you, though. His eyes rolled back slightly, whining out like he's begging you to let him breed you, to mate with you.

“I know, I know, relax a bit for me, will you?” I shushed him, trying to keep him quiet as I stroked him. Your other hand reaches up to his chin, making him face you as you gave him a passionate kiss. He kissed back desprerately, biting your lip gently— well, he tried to. He drawed blood on your lips, his sharp fangs cutting your lip. The sensation of pain and pleasure mixed, and before he could even apologized, you shoved your thumb into his mouth.

He grunted out, bucking his hips completely now. He sucked on your thumb, but this time, even more careful as he knew that his fangs were way too sharp to be played around. His tongue swirled, feeling himself going closer and closer to the edge. He looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes, trying to signal you that he's about to cum.

“Cum.. about to, ngghh, about to cum..” he panted out with his muffled voice, feeling his saliva drip down from his chin. He felt feral, yet so submissive around you.

You gave him a small, reassuring smile before your hand picks up the pace. You earned a whimper from him, his noises coming in between his little pants as his tail wagged.

“Cum for me like a good boy, will you?” You teased him, before you tipped him just over the edge. His back arched, fangs showing as he let out a long whine. His hips kept bucking, cum shooting out from his leaking cock to his own stomach. His cock twitches in your hand, still obviously hard even after the orgasm.

You chuckled, amazed by his intense orgasm as you let go of your hand from his cock, letting him catch breath for a second. You pulled out your thumb from his mouth, seeing it dripping with his wet saliva. As he catched his breath, you met his gaze— your right hand entering his mouth once again— making him swallow his own cum.

“Swallow it like a good ol'boy, hm..” you praised him as he swallowed his release. As you pulled out his thumb, his hands shots up to your waist as he tried to tug your trousers down.

“Wanna eat.. eat you out so badly, please..” he groaned out, before you heard small footsteps outside the room. It was probably the soldiers going back to their dorm anyway.

You smiled at his words, before letting him tug your trousers down. He pulled them down as fast as he could, his fingers fiddling with your zipper as he finally got them down. He pulled you by your waist, before laying on his back and pushing you down onto his face— your clothed clit right on top of him.

“You, ride my face, don't even think if I can breathe or not.” he breathed out, before his fingers tugged your panties down.

Your breath hitched slightly as his gaze met with your dripping cunt, you grunted at the sensation of his warm breath against your core. He didn't even wait anymore, his tongue lunging at you like a feral beast with it's prey. He licked and sucked, the sounds of your slickness loud and clear for others to hear.

His hand shots up to your thigh, pushing even more weight down to his face. He grunted out, squeezing your thigh as his tongue went in deeper into your swollen clit. You whimpered out, your hand reaching down to tug on his hair— which nearly made him cum on the spot too.

He moaned out, his voice muffled as he devoured you fully, his tongue felt so good in you. You clenched around nothing, before looking down at him, your chest rising up and down.

“I.. I'm close, Soap, don't stop..” you moaned out, biting your bleeding bottom lip— luckily, he didn't notice the amount of blood he drew from you.

His tongue wiggled in you, wanting to feel you cum on his face as he let out a breathy chuckle. You spasmed, before letting go. As your orgasm occured, he lapped up your juices, seeming to be more then satisfied to make you feel really good. You jolted as he continuted to lick and suck for a few more seconds, before fully stopping. You got off of his face, just to see his saliva mixed with your juices drooling down his chin. A small grin tugged in the corner of his lips, he still looked.. desperate.

He grabbed your waist once again, before positioning you towards his cock.

“Need to feel you around me, hnngh..” he slurred out, voice raspy as he slowly lowered you down. His tip went in, and he nearly came just from the sensation of you clenching around it. Wet sounds formed as he slowly inserted his cock, inches by inches, it was finally in.

With a small 'pop', he's fully inside you now. He groaned out, back arching as you started to ride him on the spot. You grinded down against him, purposely clenching around his cock just to tease him even a bit. He whined out, ears drooping as his hips bucked. His hand stayed on your waist, supporting you as he made sure he didn't miss the feeling of even a single sensation. You thrusted him in and out from you, feeling his cock twitch as you moaned out.

“Feel so fuckin' good..” he murmured out in pleasure.

And in a second, he flipped you over, making you lay on your back against the messy sheets. You gasped in amusement, before letting him do his own thing. Suddenly, he absolutely ruts into you with no mercy, panting as his tongue poked out of his mouth. He lets out little whimper and whines, feeling you clench around him when he fastened the pace.

“Fuuck.. I'm sorry baby, can't. fuckin'. hold. back. anymore.” he moaned out in between deep, long thrusts. He ruts into you, a feral wolf he is.

He chased his orgasm, as well as yours. Thrusting deeper and deeper, he felt himself getting closer— along with you clenching around him.

“Need to breed you, need to fucking cum in you, need us to cum together. Wanna breed you so fucking bad..” he slurred out, lost in the sensation of pleasure.

He picks up his pace by the second, before the both of you tipped over the edge. One last thrust, and you could feel his knot in you.

You whined out, feeling his knot dripping into your greedy cunt. You clenched around Soap's cock, before arching your back. Soap grunted out, panting heavily as his cum still drips out. In a few more moments, the both of you catched your breath. He slowly pulls out, earning a gasp from you.

“Bonnie.. did I hurt you?” He asked in concerned, before his eyes glances down to your core, his cum dripping out. His cock hardened once more, but he decided to let it be, as he didn't want to hurt you again. You shook your head, appearing to be fine before his fingers gently fucked the cum back into your cunt.

He prepared aftercare for you, grabbing a warm towel and tossing it to you and handing you a glass of warm water after he took a shower with you, tugging his boxers back up— the imprint of his still hard cock visible, but he ignores it. His tail wags, ears perking up as he crawled into your arms softly.

“Your touch devours me, baby, I am all yours.”

#cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #call of duty warzone #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap fanfic #mw2 smut #cod smut #johnny soap mactavish smut #smut #fanfic #oh boy this is gonna be fun #soap is just a little wolf in heat #call of duty soap #john mactavish #cod mw3 is not real to me #johnny mactavish #call of duty smut #call of duty x reader

[vibrantbirdy]

Helllloooooo~ your writing is fab! May I please request some Cal Kestis x Reader fiction???? Could the scenario please be that the reader was once a jedi padawan along with Cal and they were best friends and maybe have a little child crush on each other and they got separated due to order 66? Then, you guessed it, they find each other after all these years and it's all fluffy and they realise their true feelings and everything adorable?? Please and thank you! Have a lovely day/night!

Hi Anon, thank you so much for your kind words and thank you for this request! I really love writing for Cal!

Character x Reader requests are currently open in my Asks. Please read the guidelines first. Masterlist of my fics can be found here.

Title: Familiarity Fandom: Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order and Survivor games Setting: Prior to the events of Survivor Genres: Sci-fi; Romance; Action/adventure; Fluff; Angst; Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Canon typical combat violence; canon typical death/angst/survivor's guilt relating to Order 66; mild sexuality; one claustrophobic scene due to ruined temple adventuring; SPOILERS for Jedi: Fallen Order and minor ones for the set up to Survivor. Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader Chapters: 1/1 (Complete) Word Count: c.8k (this one got away from me!) Author's note: I couldn't write about Order 66 without a little angst but hopefully there's still plenty of fluff and romance and adventure to be found here! Summary: Believing each other lost to the brutal purge of the Emperor's Order 66, ten years after you were separated from your childhood best friend during the systematic eradication of the Jedi Order, you and Cal Kestis are finally reunited amid the strange Temple ruins of an ancient civilisation.

10 years ago

"Run!" Jedi Master Rena Daylum commands as the Clone Troopers who were once your trusted comrades turn their blasters towards you.

Master Daylum dispatches them quickly as you ignore her instruction and ignite your own lightsaber. The purple blade hums into life and you ready yourself for the next squad of Troopers.

But before your saber is even fully extended, a burst of energy hits you squarely in the chest and you fly backwards, skidding across the hard durasteel floor on your backside.

As you look up in surprise, you can't help the childish dart of hurt that stings your pride as you see Master Daylum, her palm extended towards you, and realise that she has pushed you away. She's never used the Force on you like that before.

"For once in your life, Padawan, do as you are told!"

Daylum extends her hand again and the control panels on the open blast door between you explode in a shower of sparks. Even as you run back towards her, the heavy metal doors hiss closed and lock shut in front of you.

With little other choice, you carry out the instruction you've been given and run. You are more frightened than you've ever been in your young life. As you sprint down the Venator-class Destroyer's corridors, you reach out for your Master in the Force. You sense only a dark void where her comforting, consistent presence had always been and in that moment, you know that she is gone forever.

The Albedo Brave, despite her rather sterile appearance with her harsh florescent lighting, her heavy, threatening blast doors and cold metal walls, had seemed homely to you only this morning.

Now the ship feels almost alien. The emergency lighting flashes intermittently, illuminating the corridors with an eerie crimson glow, and the mournful wail of the alarm seems to all but scream in your head.

You hide in a maintenance closet as another squad of Clones pass by. The once familiar voices of the Troopers now sparks a deep dread within you. Over the past month you've been aboard the Brave, you had started to recognise the individual Clones from their personal intonations and patterns of speech, even with their helmets on. Now, their tone is uniform, cold and robotic. And deadly. And this ship is teeming with them.

You think you are heading in the right direction towards the escape pods, but you are far from certain. Upon embarking, you'd been so thrilled about your first assignment to a Venator and the fact that your fellow Padawan and best friend, Cal Kestis, was already onboard. But this excitement meant that you hadn't really paid all that much attention to the safety drill with Master Daylum.

You always thought she'd be here to guide you if anything happened...

As you continue to stumble lost and alone through the gargantuan ship you once called home, you halt abruptly as you think you hear someone shout your name over the blaring alarm.

You look up towards the source of the sound and see Cal peering down at you through the grated walkway of the maintenance corridor above. There is a screech of metal as he removes the heavy durasteel access panel.

"Cal? The Clones ... they killed Master Daylum. She's ... dead," you manage to stammer, "What's happening?"

You feel your face crumple as fresh tears begin to fall. You wipe them away and Cal can only look at you with an expression of sympathy and grief on his kind, honest face.

You both jump as you hear blaster fire nearby. You need to move.

Cal lays himself flat on his stomach and reaches his arm down towards you.

"Come on!"

He stretches out a hand. It hangs agonisingly close, just out of your reach. Your fingertips barely brush against his.

"Jump!"

You try to centre yourself in the Force, but in your panic and confusion, you are completely closed off from it. All you can manage is a pitiful little hop.

"I can't Cal, I can't... I can't feel anything!"

The boy shuffles further off the ledge. He obviously has his feet hooked round the durasteel support struts as anchor points. Still, it looks impossible, but you bend your knees and spring up and off the metal floor.

Somehow, Cal grabs your hand.

Cal is the same age as you - thirteen - but due to a recent growth spurt you are a good few inches taller than him now. You've been teasing him mercilessly about it recently and he has been taking it with his characteristic good nature, biting back with quick witted retorts.

Neither of you are laughing about it now.

You are dangling just inches off the ground and, despite his best efforts, Cal simply doesn't have the strength to pull you up from this angle. He has no leverage. Eventually his grip slips and you fall away from him, hitting the ground with a painful thud.

You look up at Cal, his expression of alarm mirroring what you assume your own must looks like.

“Try again," he whispers urgently, his green eyes wide and desperate.

He extends his arm with all his might, splaying his palm as if the extra few millimetres will make any difference to your predicament.

You twist around from your position on the floor as a new sound carries down the Venator's passageways. Voices. There are voices now. Clones just beyond the nearest blast door. You took your lightsaber to the control panel, sealing it shut as best you could, but it won't take them long to get through.

You lift your gaze back to Cal - your friend, your best friend - and shake your head.

"I'll meet you there," you say, trying to sound brave and reassuring.

Cal hisses your name as you take off down the corridor away from him. You can't bear to turn around and see the lost, pleading expression on his face so you run around the corner out of his sight and you don't look back.

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

Present day

This is not going well, Cal Kestis thinks wryly to himself as spins his lightsaber in his hand, the blue laser blocking blaster bolts and sending them ricocheting back towards the Stormtroopers firing them his way.

The fire from the Troopers is relentless and more and more units in white clad armour continue to pour in through the great ceremonial entrance of the Temple to the ancient Spori civilization.

It is clear to the Jedi now that he has severely underestimated the scale of the Empire's presence on Spori, and their interest in the ruined Temple.

As he raises his saber above his head to parry a strike from a Scout Trooper with a stun baton, he groans inwardly as he remembers the misplaced confidence with which he'd bid farewell to the rest of the crew of the Mantis as they dropped him off and set out on a supply run.

"In and out," he'd quipped. "Easy."

Idiot.

Cal's constant companion, the small bipedal droid, BD-1, is crouched low atop his usual resting place on the Jedi's shoulder. He peeks out every so often to analyse the increasingly desperate situation beeping and whirring unsolicited combat advice in binary.

"Yeah buddy, I know, I know, I know..." Cal mutters through gritted teeth as he is forced to swing his lightsaber in what has become a series of exclusively defensive manoeuvres.

The pace is unsustainable.

*********************************************

You are perched on the shoulder of a gargantuan stone statue, a grand monument to a respected Spori High Priestess. You gaze down at swathes of Stormtroopers as they pour into the ruined Temple.

You've just retrieved a data archive from the inner sanctum of the Temple. The Spori were an ancient civilization who, above all else valued knowledge and spent hundreds if not thousands of years collating information on other peoples, some now lost to the mists of time or ravages of war, including the Jedi.

When you'd heard about the Imperial invasion of Spori, you knew you needed to retrieve the archive in order to preserve any surviving ancient knowledge of the Jedi Order before the Empire could either destroy it or use it for some nefarious purpose...

When you first arrived, although you'd had to evade the occasional Imperial patrol on your trek from the Spori capital across the planet's rugged landscape, there was not the slightest hint of Imperial presence around the Temple itself. It was practically peaceful.

Now, it looked like the Empire had deployed an entire kriffing garrison to the ancient ruin.

From the safety of your high vantage point you watch the chaos unfold below. Or, more accurately, you stare in disbelief at the shockingly familiar figure wielding a blue lightsaber at the very eye of the storm.

"Cal," you breathe out his name.

He's older of course, but it's unquestionably Cal Kestis. You'd recognise that flaming red hair anywhere. He has a short beard to match now and, annoyingly, you come to the conclusion that he has undergone a considerable growth spurt in the last decade or so and he now looks to be much taller than you.

He has a little red and white droid with him. It clings to the Jedi's back, swaying perfectly in tune with its master's movements, never finding itself unbalanced. It's as if the BD unit is an extension of Cal's anatomy.

Cal moves with determination and confidence, striking and parrying with alarming accuracy and speed. It is the fighting form of a competent and experienced warrior, his physicality at once both elegant and deadly. It's a far cry from the stilted and unsure combat stance of the young boy who used to pull his punches in training.

Still, the Troopers just keep on coming and Cal is obviously tiring. He is now on the back foot and will soon be overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of Imperial soldiers.

You need to do something.

Scanning your surroundings, your eyes clock the huge, monolithic stone lintel slab hanging above the ceremonial entrance to the Temple. There's a weakness in the left side pillar. If you brought it down with the Force, you could seal off the Imp's only ingress point. Then you would only have to dispatch of the Stormtroopers already inside.

You'll have to find another way out of the ruin itself of course, but that's a problem for later. The situation is becoming dire and this is the thing you can think of to do.

Suddenly, a Rocket Trooper dives at great velocity and collides into Cal, slamming his boots into the trunk of the Jedi's body and sending the him sprawling across the floor where he curls into a ball,. His lightsaber rolls across the flagstones with a mournful clinking sound.

You stand up, using the Force to balance and centre yourself, to find strength. You puff out your cheeks and exhale sharply through your lips. Then, you jump.

*************************************************

Cal writhes on the ground clutching his abdomen at the agonising point of impact where the Trooper had barrelled feet into him feet first.

Didn't see that one coming.

He gasps in deep lungfuls of air as he desperately tries to regulate his breathing through the pain.

Another broken rib? No. Thank the Force. But he's severely winded and there'll be bruising for sure. He knows he needs to move but kriff it hurts.

BD-1, who was thrown from his shoulder on impact, is now dancing from foot to little metallic foot next to him, urging him to get up.

Suddenly, he hears the unmistakable song of another lightsaber and he looks up in awe to see a stranger standing in front of him, purple blade cutting through the air and deflecting the continuing onslaught of blaster bolts.

The figure is hooded, and even when they are forced to turn towards him as they wheel around to interrupt the advance of a Scout Trooper attempting to flank them, he can't see the face hidden behind the folds of material.

Something in the Force nags at him. There is a strange familiarity in the presence of this mysterious warrior who has come to his aid.

Spurred on by curiosity, Cal steels himself and tries to rise, extending out a hand to bring his lightsaber into his hand with the Force. Too late, he registers a flash of white in his peripheral vision as a Stormtrooper's boot collides with his temple and everything snaps into blackness.

***********************************************

You've been stood watch beside an unconscious Cal for almost ten minutes. The dust is still settling from the avalanche of rock you brought tumbling down to the ancient Temple floor. The plan worked. Tonnes of rubble now separate you and Cal from the Empire.

You look down at your childhood friend. Blacked out from a kick to the head or not, you can't believe he slept though that noise. You're just starting to get worried when he finally stirs and groans. His little droid, who has since introduced himself as BD-1, boops hopefully.

"Cal?"

His green eyes, still shockingly familiar despite the passage of time, flicker open. When they finally focus and lock on to yours, they widen in alarm.

Cal leaps clumsily to his feet and stumbles backwards away from you. Disoriented and in pain, he staggers, one hand clutching at his side with the movement, the other held out in from of him. His mouth is agape, and he stares at you as if he's seen a ghost.

Cal says your name as if it's a question. It's barely a whisper.

“Yes,”

“You're...here?" His voice is faltering, unsure. "You're not...?”

Dead? You think he's going to say.

"...not a dream?

“It's me Cal," you reply and your voice is hushed with emotion, "it's really me.”

Cal drops heavily to his knees and you dart forwards to catch him, fearing he's about to pass out again. Instead, when you are kneeling face to face, he grasps your hands in his.

“I can't believe it,” he says breathlessly.

You bring your forehead to rest against his for a moment until he pulls you in a hug so tight you can barely breathe. You return it anyway, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing as if to prove to him that you are not an illusion or some cruel trick of the Force.

He winces and it breaks the spell. You let him go and cast your eyes over him, examining for wounds.

"Force, sorry," you apologise, "Anything broken?"

Cal gingerly lifts up his dark grey shirt which is filthy with dust and grime but no visible blood. He reveals one side of his bruised torso and you can't help but notice how, under the welts, the muscles there are sculpted and strong. Even on this small part of his body, his skin is littered with scars. Like you, it seems, Cal is living the life of a warrior.

"Not this time..." he quips, letting the material fall back into place.

BD-1 jumps up onto Cal's shoulder and gives him a little butt with his flat, rectangular head. The droid ejects a small cannister from one of his compartments and Cal catches it, injecting green liquid into his chest. A healing stim.

"Thanks buddy."

Cautiously, Cal pushes himself to his feet where he stands with his hands on his hips, inspecting the huge pile of rubble covering what was once the grand and sacred entrance to the Spori Temple.

"That got anything to do with you?" he asks, gesturing casually at the mess.

You dust off your hands as you rise to stand beside him.

"Someone had to save your ass. Thought I might as well make an impression on the Empire at the same time."

He looks at you and for the first time since you've reunited with him, he smiles properly. Your heart soars. It's the same boyish grin you remember so well.

"Could be a problem."

"Maybe not..." you reply as you pull out the data pad you'd loaded up with an Old Republic era holo map of the Temple. The technological backflips you'd had to do to get that thing to run on your device...

BD-1 boops indignantly.

That's my job.

"Look at these tunnels," you continue, placating the little droid with a gentle pat to the head as you speak, "they connect to various ceremonial chambers, some functional rooms too, and then out the other side. I think they were once service passageways. It's the long way round, it'll take us a couple of days but..."

"Why are you here?" Cal asks suddenly, as if the thought has only just occurred to him.

He's looking at you questioningly. It's not suspicion. It's a sort of sharp curiosity, and you suddenly become aware of the obvious. That you and Cal are here for the same purpose.

Nevertheless, you trust him implicitly. You bend down and reach into your small knapsack which is currently resting by your feet. You rummage around until you find the tiny golden data sphere which holds the Spori culture archive.

"Why are you here?" You counter, although you suspect your theory must be correct.

Sure enough, Cal raises his eyebrows and nods towards the object in your palm.

"Figures," you say.

You are interrupted by the unmistakable din of a laser firing through rock. The Empire have obviously brought in heavy duty cutting equipment. They must want the Spori archive more than you thought.

"Work it out later?" Cal suggests.

You nod in agreement, before stuffing the data sphere back into your bag and grabbing Cal's hand, leading him briskly towards the nearest service tunnel marked on your map.

***************************************************

You and Cal follow the old passageways for miles. The two of you fall back into your old, easy way of conversation as if no time has passed at all. Your laughter echoes through the ruin, filling up forgotten rooms and dormant chambers where the ring of voices has not been heard in centuries.

Finally, the tunnel you are following leads out to a cavernous ceremonial chamber. It is an extravagantly long hall and all the way down there are huge pillars, inset with hundreds of alcoves where candles must once have been placed for illumination. You try to imagine a grand feast being held here, priests and dignitaries and attendants all floating across the chamber in their opulent ceremonial garb.

Cal nudges you, starting you out of your reverie. You look at him and he nods down the long room towards the furthest two pillars in the distance.

"Race ya."

"Oh, you are so on, Kestis," You accept and crouch into a starting position, welcoming a chance to properly stretch your legs. "On three...One..."

"Woah, woah, woah!" Cal suddenly exclaims, holding up his hands. "Not so fast. On three or after three?"

You turn to him and roll eyes as you register the mischievous smirk on his face. You've had this argument so many times.

"Remember that race with Kya and Mez?" He snorts with laughter, "You were so mad!"

"That's because you all cheated!" You argue and you can't believe that over a decade later, that particular defeat still riles you. "Everybody knows when you say on three, that means you go after three."

"No, that's what after three means!" Cal protests, your seriousness surrounding the situation only causing his mirth to increase.

You know he's right, but you were always so competitive back then. You always wanted, needed to win. Master Daylum had tried to temper and hone that determined spirit into something more refined but, even now, you aren't sure that you've even been able to tame that particular fault in your nature.

You remember once in sparring training, you'd thrown down your training saber in annoyance.

"Why are you doing that?!" You yelled at Cal, who was partnering you, storming across to him and shoving him hard in the chest.

You were convinced that he was holding back with his strikes and it was making you irate. You wanted a proper fight otherwise your victory would be hollow.

"Just because you are scared of everything doesn't mean I am!"

You'd stalked off, leaving him with an expression of shock and hurt on his face. Within five minutes, you'd regained your composure and your insides squirmed with the shame and guilt of unjustly embarrassing your friend.

Later that night, you'd snuck into Cal's quarters to apologise. He accepted with his usual good grace and, as you left, you'd placed a chaste peck on his cheek which made his face turn almost as red as his hair.

Cal was always quick to forgive you after that.

"Ok, ok, fine," you concede, bringing your mind back to the present.

You are unable to stop a smile spreading across your face as Cal struggles to stop his chuckling beside you. You'd always found his laughter infectious and nothing seemed to have changed there. Maybe, maybe you can see the funny side now.

"After three then," you say.

You both adopt a low stance in preparation to dart forwards and get the best start possible. You look at each other and grin and Cal starts to count.

"One...two...three..."

Before Cal can say go!, you set off at a blistering pace. You hear a scrabble of boots on loose stones and an indignant shout of hey! behind you as he scrambles into a run after you. From his perch on Cal's shoulder, BD-1 trills a similar reproval.

You laugh, exhilarated. The wind rushes in your face and through your hair as you pump your arms and legs as fast as you can. You feel like a child again. You feel free.

As you push your body harder, you reach into the Force and you sense the strength of Cal's presence, both familiar and new, in tune with yours. Something warm blooms inside you. It's as if a piece of you has been missing all these years.

It's meant to be like this, you think.

Cal is fast but you've always been quicker than him, your nimble frame allowing you to cover the ground like something feline. Even with his new advantage of height and longer legs, there's no way he'll catch you now as you speed towards the pillars and victory.

You raise your arms in triumph as you cross the makeshift finish line. You turn and Cal is right on your tail, BD-1 crouched low on his shoulder as if to be the cause of the least wind resistance possible.

Cal barely slows as he swoops behind you, grabbing you by the waist. You shriek with laughter and he picks you up and spins you around before setting your feet back down on the crumbling flagstones.

"Cheat!" He accuses, but his expression is joyful and his eyes sparkle with glee.

He puts his hands on his knees and folds over in an exaggerated gesture of catching his breath.

"Now you know what it feels like," you counter, and you slump down against the nearest pillar, enjoying the sensation of the cool stone against your back.

Cal joins you so that you are sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"Force, you're still so competitive," he says.

"And you're still such a sore loser."

You stick your tongue out at him and you both laugh.

You suddenly realise how tired you are. You and Cal have been walking and scrambling and clambering across miles of difficult, dangerous terrain for hours. The Temple is mostly in ruin now and so many parts of it have collapsed or caved in, placing obstacle after unexpected obstacle in your path.

"Rest?"

Cal takes a swig of water from his canteen pouch and grins.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

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

10 years ago

"Padawan, your lightsaber!" Master Tapal admonishes as Cal's weapon skids across the floor and plummets into the oblivion of the turbo-lift shaft.

There is an uncharacteristic note of panic in his Master's voice. It causes a spike of fear to pierce through the young Padawan's very soul and makes him more afraid than even the betrayal of the once friendly Clones, the onslaught of blaster fire that seems to come at him from every direction, and the screeching, disorienting cacophony of the Venator's blaring alarms put together.

"Sorry Master!" Cal exclaims as he scrambles onwards and upwards, towards the escape pods feeling vulnerable and helpless without his weapon.

****************************************************

His Master lies dead on the floor before him. As the escape pod gives a terrifying shudder as it disengages from the Venator, Cal throws himself into one of the vessel's seats, fumbling to secure his safety belt.

He wonders what's become of you. The guilt and shame of his failure washes over him anew as he remembers your stricken face as you fell away from his grasp. He wasn't strong enough to help you. If you're dead, it'll be all his fault. Just like his Master.

The young Padawan clutches his Tapal's lightsaber tightly to his chest and squeezes his eyes shut. Finally, he allows himself to let out a wail of despair as he hurtles through space alone towards the planet of Bracca and the unknown.

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

Present Day

Cal is still asleep. You're not sure how - he can't possibly be comfortable. He's lying flat on his back, arms folded across his chest, using a low stone slab as a makeshift pillow.

You have no idea whether the Empire have been successful in their efforts to break through into the Temple and you know you really should get going. But Cal looks so peaceful, you don't want to wake him. Not yet.

Fondly, you examine his face, reacquainting yourself with the constellations of freckles that sit on his nose and cheeks. You still can't get over how grown up he looks. How handsome he's become. The beard gives him a rather dashing appearance.

You wonder how he got that scar across his nose which disappears as it reaches his right cheek then reappears again on his neck. You don't doubt he's got many such marks from his scrapper's life on Bracca.

Deftly, you reach out with the Force. You smile. Elements of his presence feel so familiar to you - Earnest, honest, kind-hearted Cal.

But there is also determinedness, a level headedness, and a self-assuredness you've never felt from him before. You feel a rush of emotion as you realise it reminds you of the steady, secure feeling you used to sense from Master Tapal once you'd stopped being scared of the purple Lasat's outwardly stern demeanour and truly giagantic size.

Whenever you and Cal got into trouble - or, perhaps more accurately, whenever you got Cal into trouble - by sneaking out into the Gardens of the Jedi Temple after hours or some such similar escapade, Master Daylum would almost always lead the reprimand, while Master Tapal would merely observe, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips.

As an adult, you understand now that the Lasat considered your independent spirit and rebellious nature to be a good balancer for his sometimes overly cautious and uncertain Padawan.

You retrain your mind on Cal. There's something else, something he hides, deep within himself. You realise it's the same bitter collection of feelings that you have struggled with every day since the violent extermination of your Order.

Doubt. Grief. Fear.

You pull back, realising you are teetering on the edge between curiosity and trespass. As if the you have summoned these unpleasant notions to the surface of the sleeping young man's psyche, Cal starts to mumble in his sleep. He twists and jerks as if he's having a terrible nightmare.

You crouch beside him and shake him gently by the shoulder in a desperate attempt to wake him. It takes longer than you would like and as he catapults back into consciousness, he sits bolt upright, his broad shoulders heaving up and down as his breath comes in short, sharp pants.

His eyes flash wildly as he reorients himself and when they finally lock on to yours they blaze with the intensity of green kyber. It's as if he's relieved all over again to see that you are alive.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he blurts out, "I left you there. I left you on that ship."

"No, Cal" you say softly and you place a hand on his bearded cheek.

You've never blamed him. Not once.

Over the years, you've been unable to quash a secretly harboured shard of resentment towards the Jedi, despite your love for the Order you once called home, your family. As an adult, you started to find yourself doubting the morality and the wisdom of training young children to be weapons and sending them off to war.

Nowadays, for the most part, you are able to reconcile your loyalty to the Order with these criticisms, but the realisation that Cal still perceives what happened on the Venator as some kind of personal failing makes these feelings flare up within you all over again.

"No," you repeat and your tone is firmer now, "we were kids, Cal. We both did what we had to to survive in a situation we should never have had to face.”

Cal shakes his head and looks away.

“Do you ever dream of it? Of the Venator?” he asks, staring into the distance.

“All the time,” you answer truthfully and you smile sadly.

You are relieved to see that when Cal trains his gaze back onto your face, his expression, while still sombre, is less feverish.

"How did you escape?"

"I commandeered a shuttle," you explain, then smirk, "Crashed it, of course. Into a field on Pelka-4."

"That sounds like you," Cal quips, and you are glad when the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

"I was lucky. A family of farmers found me. They kept me safe, hidden while I healed. I stayed with them for a few years until I managed to find a Rebel cell to join. Been sticking it to the Empire ever since."

You suddenly realise that neither of you have spoken about your lives after the purge until now. You don't know anything about the last ten years of Cal's existence.

"What about you?" You ask.

"Ended up on Bracca," Cal says and he lifts the sleeve of his shirt to display a tattoo on the underside of his right forearm.

It's a worker identification tag and you feel a surge of sympathy for him. Force what a hard life for a kid.

"Scrapper," he continues, "Until, one day, I used the Force to save a friend from a fall. He died anyway when the Inquisitors came for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too..." Cal rubs the back of his neck as he continues, "I was working with a team including another Jedi for a while. It's complicated, but we went our separate ways and I've been part of Saw Guerra's operation since."

"You're working for Saw Gerrera?"

"I'm working with Saw Gerrera."

You both look at each other and burst into laughter, knowing that the formidable Rebel warlord himself certainly wouldn't see it that way.

"What does Gerrera want with a Spori data archive?"

"He doesn't," Cal says, "but intel picked up a lot of Imperial activity in the area and I knew that's what they were after. I wanted to take it out the game before they could get to it."

You take the Spori data sphere out of your knapsack again and hold it out towards Cal in your open hand.

"What do we do with it now?"

Cal reaches out and closes your palm around the device.

"If you have somewhere safe for it," he says, his emerald gaze earnest, his voice low and sincere, "You get it there."

************************************

Cal doesn't need to wonder if he's made the right decision in suggesting you take custody of the Spori archive. He's not ready to visit Cere on Jedha, and Saw Gerrera's numerous bases of operations are constantly at risk of Imperial attack. Smaller cells, like yours, are easier to hide, easier to move. More than that, he trusts you completely to keep the sphere safe.

Even as a child, you were the most capable, determined, head-strong person he's ever met. Nothing's changed. You still make him laugh until he cries and he can't believe quite how much he's missed being relentlessly teased by you.

Having you near him again is enchanting. He feels drawn to you, like the invisible chord that has tied you together all of your lives has suddenly been pulled taut and you are being pulled inexorably towards each other.

Despite the circumstances you find yourselves in, Cal is happier with you down here in the dark with you than he's been in years.

And it really is dark down here. And damp. And cold. Squeezing through the Spori service tunnels which seem to be in more and more disrepair the further you go, it is as if there are unnamed things skittering about in the blackness.

Cal tries to put this down to the loose pebbles and stones you both kick up as you make your way through the ruined passageways, but he's not convinced.

He doesn't much like small spaces, but as you make progress down the increasingly narrowing passage in front of him, BD-1 on your shoulder lighting the way, Cal can feel your panic rising in the Force.

He suddenly remembers that you are severely claustrophobic and he scolds himself for forgetting. How could he not remember the night he sat up for hours holding your trembling hand in the Jedi Temple's med bay after your experience on Ilum.

Master Yoda had taken you and Cal with your peers to the ice planet for the ceremonial Gathering, the traditional rite of passage where young Padawans explore the great ice caves to source the kyber crystals with which to construct their lightsabers.

The ritual was always somewhat dangerous, but you'd had a particularly fraught time, falling down an ice crevasse and almost getting stuck between the tightly packed sheets of ice. You were forced to crawl and squeeze your way out in the dark all alone.

You were hours later than everybody else. Cal remembers how he came the closest he'd ever been to disobedient, sneaking away from the pack of Padawans and Master Yoda himself who were waiting by the transport ship outside the caves for your return.

Determined to try and find you himself, Cal made it halfway to the entrance unseen - or so he liked to think - when you finally emerged from the caves, hunched over and limping, but your kyber crystal firmly in hand.

The Jedi Council had been impressed with your perseverance and bravery, but Cal had never quite forgiven them for allowing you to suffer like that.

"This is only getting narrower, Cal," you say, jolting him out of his memories. He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, "Maybe we should go back."

BD-1 lets out a little boop which is almost a scoffing sound.

"It's ok for you, buddy," Cal reminds him patiently, "You're very small."

He hears the droid trill a bashful apology in your ear.

"That's ok, BD-1," you say and the genuine warmth in your voice makes Cal smile. You always had a weakness for cute droids, even when they were cheeky.

"Kriff," you swear softly in front of him as you come to a halt so abrupt he almost crashes into you.

In the dim light, Cal can see that part of the tunnel has collapsed. He watches as BD-1 hops off your back, and scurries into the small opening on the ground. Glad of something to do, the droid proudly scans the terrain and projects the way ahead. It's not blocked and it's not far, but it'll be tight. You'll have to crawl.

Cal places a hand on your shoulder and has to resist the urge to recoil as your fear arcs through the Force and passes through his own body so acutely that it feels like a bolt of electricity.

"I'll go first," he says.

The narrow corridor is barely wide enough for two people. You press yourself as flat as you can against the damp stone wall so that Cal can squeeze past. He raises his arms and rests his palms against the rock either side of your head for balance as he steps cautiously in between and around your feet and legs.

It's intimate, almost awkwardly so. Cal hopes you don't notice the blush he can feel creeping up his neck as he is forced to press his body into yours as he climbs over you. He looks down into your eyes as he passes, raising his eyebrows and tilting his chin upwards in mock flirtation in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He is relieved when you giggle and jab him playfully in the ribs. He can't help but notice that your cheeks have turned a rather fetching shade of pink, no doubt mirroring his own, as BD's torch lamp passes over your face.

Something inside him glows as he realises you feel it too - the ember of something new between you smouldering into life as your shared past collides with the present.

But now, he needs to concentrate. Reluctantly, he brushes aside the giddy feeling you've awakened within him and he reaches into the Force. He inhales then exhales deeply, slowing his racing heart as he focuses on the task in hand. Then, following BD-1's lead, he crouches down and crawls head first into the gap in the stone work.

*************************************************

If your lungs didn't feel so constricted, so full of dust and musty, cloying air, you'd probably scream. When you'd squeezed yourself into the collapsed passageway after Cal, at first you'd been able to crawl on your hands and knees. That was almost tolerable but now... Now you are now flat on your stomach, making painstaking progress by clutching at the rough, stony ground in front of you with your fingers and pulling yourself along like some undead creature in a horror holo novel.

You try to ground yourself in the Force, but just like when you were a child, your panic has severed your connection to it, cut you off from it, leaving you adrift in the painful void of its absence.

Suddenly, you hear the scrabbling of Cal's body and boots against the ground ahead. Before you can register what's happening you are plummeted into darkness, BD-1's headlamp extinguishing without warning.

Oh Force, they've fallen down some crack in the ancient structure, plummeting into oblivion where the earth has swallowed them whole and now you're stuck here in the dark alone with no way forward and no chance of turning around...

The sharp, solid ice - no, this isn't Ilum - rock bites through your clothing, stony shards pressing into your body as your chest expands with your panicked breathing.

"Cal?" You gasp out, then, in a shout that's almost a scream, "Cal?!"

Abruptly, your eyes are assaulted with a white light so bright it dazzles you. You jump and hit your head painfully on the stone ceiling above you. A pair of hands, Cal's hands you realise, reach through the blinding light of BD's torch and you snatch at them wildly as if he might withdraw them and leave you there alone in the dark.

He doesn't. Of course he doesn't. With ease, he pulls you gently through the last little length of the tunnel and up onto your feet where you emerge gasping and wheezing as if you've been held under water.

You throw your arms around Cal's neck in relief, launching yourself at him with such force that he staggers backwards. Once he's regained his footing, he places a hand at the small of your back, drawing you close to him and cradles your head to his chest with the other. His heart beats out a sonorous, steady rhythm and resonates through your own body, slowing your breathing and calming your rattled nerves.

Funny, you always used to be the one to comfort him when you were children.

"I've got you," he whispers gently into your ear, "I've got you."

A passing thought that maybe you should be embarrassed for allowing your fear to overwhelm you like this is discarded almost immediately as Cal places a soft kiss gently on the top of your head.

A feeling of warmth rushes through you. You suddenly realise how safe you feel with him as you press into the warmth of his strong, solid body. You breathe in his old familiar smell which has a new, heady quality to it like clean leather mixed with the oddly pleasant scent of his physical exertions.

"Sorry..." you mumble, finally, into his chest, hoping he can't feel where your panicked tears have rolled unbidden down your cheeks and soaked into the fabric of his shirt, "I was thinking about..."

"Ilum," Cal finishes for you, "I know."

"You remember?" you say, pulling back to look at him.

He smiles kindly.

"I remember."

You shiver. Is it the memory of that icy planet that still chills your bones? No, you decide, it really is cold in here. Although, you realise, the air feels and smells different somehow. Fresher. Sweeter.

Reluctantly, you extricate yourself from Cal's arms and take a look around the Spori chamber you've just put yourself through hell to get to.

Except...you're not in a chamber at all. You're not even inside.

You look upwards and see stars twinkling above you, a million points of light in the darkness. Around you, the roofless, crumbling remains of the Spori Temple stretch raggedly into the inky sky like skeletal fingers.

You think back to when you'd studied the climate of planet and the geographical position of the Temple before setting off on your mission. The ancient structure would certainly be exposed to harsh winds on this northern side, especially in the formidable Spori winter. This part of the Temple has simply not weathered the ravages of time.

In the twilight, you take in the shadowy treeline of a great forest which lays across a meadow of high, fragrant grass which sways gently in the breeze. The tops of far away mountains are illuminated by the ethereal blue light of Spori's twin moons. The natural beauty of the place is magical.

You fill your lungs with beautiful, clean air. You can breathe again. You let out a joyful whoop, throwing your head back and laughing, stretching your hands up into the night sky and spinning round and round in the glorious open landscape.

When you finally stop, you notice that Cal is watching you with an expression of pure delight.

"We did it!" You say breathlessly, coming to rest in front of him and he laughs.

BD-1 hops from foot to foot in front of you, wanting to join in your celebration. You crouch down and scoop the little droid into a tight embrace where he purrs like a Loth cat. After a minute, he hops out of your arms and across to his usual spot on Cal's shoulder.

Cal's face is covered in dirt which runs in dark streaks down his cheeks where rivulets of sweat have trickled their path. You imagine you look similar. Automatically, you reach up and rub at the patch of grime caked above his left eyebrow with your thumb.

Cal brings his hand up to rest against yours as he leans into your touch. His expression is soft and there is a longing in his face so intense that he almost looks lost. You burn with a sudden yearning for him as his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips.

Something chirps, breaking the spell. Cal reaches into his back pocket to pull out a small data pad.

"The Mantis can pick us up here in the morning," he says, inserting coordinates into the device and transmitting them to his crew, "We can drop you back wherever you need to be if you want a ride?"

Your heart sinks and you can tell by Cal's regretful expression that your face has fallen with it. In your euphoria, you'd almost forgotten that your reunion was probably only temporary.

Cal looks crestfallen by your reaction and you know he must realise that, however unintended, the abrupt shift in tone would have seemed callous to you. You can tell that he is searching for the words to repair the damage - he still has this need to say the right thing.

But it's too late.

"Sure," you reply, and you hate the coldness in your tone.

****************************************

Cal is lying on his side in the grass, somewhat sheltered in the corner of the part of the ruin you'd chosen for your camp. It's little more than a cluster of decaying stones, but it's better than nothing and it keeps the wind at bay. You've built a fire for warmth and placed yourselves at either side of it.

As Cal studies your peaceful face through the leaping, crackling flames, he smiles to himself. You look so beautiful to him, as you always had. Even on your worst days when your temper or your hard-headedness won out, he'd always likened you to a force of nature - a tempest or a forest fire. Something elemental.

The thought of going through another separation from you is unbearable. He curses his thoughtlessness earlier. He was certain that he had just about plucked up the courage to kiss you. Sensing your own feelings through the Force, he was almost sure that you wouldn't have rejected him and he'd certainly been willing to take that chance.

Wallowing in self-pity for this missed opportunity made it impossible to even think about sleep. If only that blasted device hadn't interrupted the moment.

And besides all that inner turmoil, Cal's teeth are chattering so loud in his skull that he's certain they could wake the dead, never mind himself. While softer than the solid rock that had been serving as his bedding recently, the turf beneath him is damp and the chill is seeping through his clothing and into his skin. He is so uncomfortable.

"Cal?"

Just as his eyelids start to droop, he hears you speak his name in a soft, sleepy voice. When he looks across at you, you are sitting up, the firelight dancing across the bright, glassy orbs of your eyes, your hair wild.

Force you look ethereal.

"Are you cold?" You ask.

"Freezing," Cal admits.

"Me too," you pause before saying in a hushed tone that makes Cal's stomach flip, "Come here."

He hesitates for a moment before he does as as he's bid, standing and making his way over to you. Wordlessly, you reach up to him and he takes you hand in his as you guide him to lie at your back and return to your position on your side. He feels a heady thrill when you press yourself into him as he curls his body around your smaller frame.

Cal laces one arm underneath you while the other wraps around your waist, holding you flush against him. You clasp the hand the hand that rests against your stomach in your own. Cal wonders if you can feel his heart slamming against his chest.

"I've missed you," he hears himself blurt out suddenly and he curses inwardly, feeling stupid.

But the temporary embarrassment fades quickly and is replaced by certainty and desire as you bring his hand up to your mouth and trace a trail of kisses across his knuckles with your soft lips.

"I can't lose you again," he continues ardently, "I can't."

Cal brushes a strand of stray hair away from your ear, as if that might allow you to heed his words more clearly.

"You won't," you say firmly, and a new sense of hope blooms inside him for the first time in a long time.

You twist towards him and onto your back, propping yourself up on your elbows to look up into his open, sincere face. Unable to resist any longer, Cal places a hand at the nape of your neck and draws you up into a deep, passionate kiss. His heart sings as your hands fly up to twist in his hair as you move your lips urgently against his.

As you embrace, Cal feels your familiar presence in the Force blossom with something new, something which glows incandescent like a beacon guiding him towards you and only you. Suddenly, every nerve in his body is on fire and, as you move together, he feels as if you are two flames blazing through the very heart of the Galaxy itself.

Only in his dreams did he ever imagine that he would see you again after that awful day on the Venator so long ago. Now, as you lie down together beneath the stars amid the mysterious ruins of the Spori Temple, Cal Kestis promises himself that whatever the future holds, he'll never let you go again.

#cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis fanfiction

[cuffmeinblack]

Idk if you're still taking requests but if you are, how about an angsty turn fluff where Ominis finds you right after the last battle and comforts you after the realization of everything happening finally hits you and you break down. Like you've already realized that you're in love with him and don't want him to realize that you're crying but he can see through it right away.

The end and the beginning

Ominis Gaunt x reader

Tags: angst | hurt/comfort | admission of love

1k words

A/n: My brain sort of stopped working halfway through this but here we goooo soppy love story.

⚠️ END GAME SPOILERS ⚠️

Your head swam as the adrenaline pumped through your body, your breathing growing ragged from the physical exertion. The body in front of you was crumpled, bloody, crushed by your magic. You didn't feel remorse, but the sight was more than you thought you could bear in that moment, so you looked away and forced down the bile rising in your throat. The cavern was silent, the battle long over—the professors must have returned to the school to secure the building and protect the students inside, in the eventuality you were unsuccessful. There would be one missing, though—your mentor, Professor Fig. Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered the man, trying to push back the memory of his gruesome demise.

You needed to get back to Hogwarts—there was someone you needed to find. Like a child who sought their mother in times of dire need and emotional turmoil, you craved the presence of only one person. You walked as quickly as you could back along the rocky path, trying to ignore the pain in your leg—there would be time to visit the hospital wing later. 

The castle was eerie, the corridors empty apart from a frantically running prefect who ignored you completely. You guessed the students had been sent back to their common rooms, so you headed down to the dungeons. By now your eyes were heavy and you wished you could simply sleep, but you didn't think the adrenaline would let you. You'd likely be ambushed by Professor Weasley at some point and made to retell your story, but you hoped for at least a few hours respite before that ordeal.

The common room was busy and loud, the chatter anxious. Upon entering the room, heads turned toward you with open mouths as the talking ceased, the silence stretching out uncomfortably. You were used to attention by now, but this was ridiculous. You didn't much care, carrying on your frantic scanning of the room until you recognised a familiar fluffy chestnut-brown head rushing toward you. 

"Sebastian?" you said weakly as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"The whole castle is talking, is Fig really dead?"

You nod solemnly.

"Sebastian…where's Ominis?"

You feel a warm hand on your bruised arm and turn to see Ominis standing behind your shoulder. Your heart flutters in your chest as you try to contain everything you want to say to him, the moment you realised when you came close to death that you were completely and utterly in love with him. You'd never imagined your own demise, let alone your very last thought, and it has surprised you how intensely the feeling had come.

You wanted to be alone with him, away from the prying eyes which all seemed to be focused on you. Ominis seemed to read your mind.

"Let's find somewhere quiet?" he asked.

You reply by taking his hand and leading him through the crowd of students toward the stairs and climbing them to the top and perching on the stone step on the landing. Ominis sat beside you and held your hand until you were ready to speak, his face a picture of worry. You wanted nothing more than to touch him and kiss him, to remind yourself that he was real and you were alive.

"I'll need to find the professors soon, they need to know that I'm okay…and it's over," you said with a shaky voice.

Ominis' hand tightened around yours.

"Are you okay, really? I can't tell if you're hurt."

"Nothing that can't wait. Ominis, Professor Fig is dead. I tried to…," you whisper.

"Don't blame yourself, please," he said.

His voice was so tender, you hadn't realised that he might have been worried about you. You had hoped that he felt the same but neither of you had ever broached the subject, preferring only to show a mutual respect for one another, ignoring the tension that rippled through the air whenever you were alone.

"I thought I was going to die," you said, trying to remain calm.

Silent tears fell from your face as you looked at Ominis. He was so beautiful, and your heart ached with longing. His hand found your head and cupped your face, stroking the tears away with his thumb. How had he known?

"Ominis…"

You were going into shock. Your hands were beginning to tremble, then your body started shaking uncontrollably as the tears fell more rapidly from your eyes. You were embarrassed to be showing your vulnerability in front of Ominis. You had intended to tell him how you felt, instead you were falling apart. He moved close to you, your legs pressed together and pulled you into his arms, burying your head against his neck as you tried to steady your tremors and control your breathing.

"You're alive. We're all alive thanks to you," he said, stroking your hair as your tears fell freely into his collar.

"Ominis," you sniffed, "I need to…tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I love you. It took me nearly dying to realise it, but I love you," you say with a nervous laugh.

"I love you, too."

The reply caught you off-guard, and you took a deep shuddering breath as you lifted your head to look at him, the tears stopping as suddenly as they had come on. You were so desperate to show him how you felt, it was overwhelming. You kissed him lightly on the cheek and he turned to meet you, locking lips with you with a force you hadn't expected. His hands were in your hair, his hold on you firm but not forceful as he kissed you deeply, telling you he felt the same without words.

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt drabble #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #anon ask

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Lost in Your Echos -Prologue teaser

❥ ┊𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; Dawnbreaker!Zayne × Hunter!Reader

❥ ┊𝐀𝐔; This one is gonna get weird folks. Canon Divergent as fuck, but will use a lot of the canon lore.

❥ ┊𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠; NSFW, reader is afab using she/her pronouns, reader's skin/hair/body will not be described (this will be Black reader friendly!!) violence, mentions of torture but no descriptions, beloved character deaths (I'm serious I'm gonna kill 'em), slow burn, obsessive behavior, Dawnbreaker is kind of a creep but he's trying he just doesn't know how, trauma, ptsd, nightmares/night terrors, poorly managed grief and depression, sexual situations (more specific tags for that when we get to those chapters later).

❥ ┊𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; In the far future, Dawnbreaker fights a lone man war against an ever growing hoard of human born wanderer abominations, spawned from an unchecked protocore sickness run rampant. 2 weeks after the death of Georgie, Zayne has an all too vivid dream of the Doctor that abruptly brings an end to his dreams of the Doctor and you.

Several months later, Detective Ivan reaches out to him again, informing him that a woman has come forward requesting help with information about the abominations. Knowing he can't help her, he sends Dawnbreaker her info and suggests Zayne meet up with her. What he finds shatters the delicate reality he has built for himself, but for the first time in his bleak life he can feel the warmth of the sun.

❥ ┊𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭; Lost in Your Echos

"It's you.” Truly the last place he expected to see the haunted expression of his own warped visage was in his once quiet office at Akso hospital, but Zayne already knew this was no ordinary meeting. The mid-morning sun shone through the open windows, washing everything in a beautiful golden glow, but there was no warmth to be found here.

How long had it been since he'd sat behind this desk? 6, 7, 8 weeks? Even now there was a force in his mind that wanted to drift to the many patients he'd left in the care of Dr. Greyson, and their varied outcomes, but the man that stood before him like a specter was the only thing left to take care of now. He wore his face, but so discordant were the expression and mannerisms that they made every part of his being feel like he was staring down the executioner.

This was his grim reaper.

He'd experienced his presence a hundred times in his dreams, yet nothing in those half lucid moments compared to this. 

“You've come for me then, finally.” He watched the unchanging face of his twisted reflection for any sign of recognition or acceptance. Instead, the apparition finally spoke, his expression as frigid as his tone. 

“You called me here.” His voice was quieter than the Doctor's, with the slight rasp of disuse, but otherwise, he thinks they sound too similar for his liking. Zayne watches as the figure cut in black shifts, movements awkward like he takes up space in a room he is not part of. He is a person all too real in a dream or simulation, and it reminds Zayne that his own body is slipping from his grasp. 

“I didn't call anyone here. I'm not even sure where ‘here’ is. If you're not the grim reaper then who exactly are you, and where are we?” Zayne doesn't miss the slightest crinkle of the other's eyes at the use of his macabre ‘nickname’, but all the same he doesn't object.

With a small effort he stands, the unease in his gut growing and gnawing as he realizes now they are exactly the same height as well. It didn't bother him before how perfectly stacked all the logs were, or how healthy all the plants looked. How all the pillows on the couch were fully fluffed and every photo on his desk was fingerprint free. However, the longer he stood here in the eerie silence with his doppelganger, the more his surroundings began to feel suffocating and uncanny. He knows his heart should be racing with the discomfort he's experiencing yet it felt alarmingly calm. His fingers itched to call the familiar ice for his own protection only to find the terrifyingly numb sensation of nothingness. 

He really was dead. But what about-

“I was dreaming.” The other starts softly, temporarily snapping Zayne from his spiral. “I saw… us in an explosion and we called out for help. I …. reached out.” The caution and cadence in his voice made him sound confused, and Zayne follows his flickering gaze downward as they both look to his trembling hands that now tightly grip the photo that sat on his desk of the two of you in your finest evening wear at his last award ceremony dinner. Your smile, so radiant and warm, was forever seared into his memory. This seemed so long ago now. Had the last few months truly aged you both that much?

Wait, when did he even grab this?

No, that didn't matter. He didn't have time to waste now. If he could reach out to him then maybe-

“Can you reach out to her? Is she still alive?” Zayne no longer cared to police his tone or expression, and the reaction of his double was proof enough as he watched his eyes blow wide for just a second. He could feel the frantic tone cracking in his throat like a fading fire but pushed forward despite the strain, slamming his free hand on the desk between them, alarmed by the lack of pain or feedback from it. “Like you are right now with me? She was with me in the-”

“I saw her, yes.” There is a consuming reverence on his tongue when he speaks of you, and if Zayne had any other option, he'd have gladly taken it over him at this moment. The way his eyes soften and soothe at the mere mention of you is enough to trip more than one warning flag, but he lacks the time you desperately need. He knows he's not the first man to die for you, and while he doesn't understand what this body double even is, he's a wise enough man to know his own heart. His own devotion to you, left unchecked, could border on obsession. 

He has no choices left. There is no more time, and his only parting gift to you is hopefully giving you the time necessary to make your plan work. So many had put their faith in you, himself included, and he would be a fool to look this 11th hour gift in the eye and deny its aid. 

Xavier, Jeremiah, Caleb, Thomas, Yvonne… so many more names of the lost had faded from his memory and the thought made him sick, the ghost of the taste of bile on the back of his tongue. How many had he forgotten already? 

“Do it. Please.” Voice raw, he begged. For you, he begged the grim reaper. 

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #love and deep space #lads #l&ds #dawnbreaker zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne #strap in folks this one is gonna be a doozy #its gonna hurt like a bitch but im gonna give dawnbreaker the happy ending he deserves #but like maybe at the expense of everyone else oops? #kay writes

[danddymaro]

Stunt | Revenant x Reader

Obv. Rev has feelings for the reader.

It's just a fun scenario I considered.

Some Mirage X reader (you'll see)

Wordcount: 487

Stunt

Revenant stared down at the device in his hand, a searing glare shot down at the bright, flat screen that stared back at him with vibrant colors.

The image moved in silence, displaying only a preview before he decided to simply click on it, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

-Something in him was burning, somehow aching. 

Slowly, he pressed the tip of his finger over the screen, holding in an imaginary breath. 

The overzealous brat Mirage spoke, his elated words heightened by that damned smile of his that had begun to become even more infuriating as of late.

" I'm just here with my favorite girl!" he claimed as he had an arm wrapped around you, surprising you as you nearly dropped your recently purchased drink.

It took you a moment to compose yourself and smile too, though, still seeming more entertained with your tea.

Elliot pulled you close, his cheek pressing right against yours for just a second before he pulled back and continued to address his audience instead, something you didn't seem to mind much as you focused on your straw.  

Occasionally during the live feed, you laughed, showing no signs of wanting to peel yourself off of his side. 

countless shares and comments were left just as curious as Revenant was, and the replies were no better, insinuating something he's tried to not think of. 

Lately, you've been busy....is this why?

Him...

"Ohhh man...." he heard a familiar voice mutter beside him, and that breath alone was an indicator of who it was.

The accented rasp in his voice was unmistakable, and it made Revenant feel even more irritated.

The speed demon stood still, and Revenant could see from the way his unobscured, brown eyes glanced over to the screen that he was just as surpised, yet strangely not all too taken back. 

" Tough luck amigo," Octavio added as he shook his head, and it made Revenant snatch the phone away from his sight with a low grunt.

"- Like I give a damn," he said back as he pulled back his arm, his fingers pressing down on the device with an iron grip that began to overwhelm the phone, crushing it in a matter of seconds.

And it was something Octane saw and snickered at, 

"Right..." Octavio said lowly before relaseing a short sigh, and halfhearted shrug.

“He just snatched your girl right from under you,” he muttered with just a bit of tease.

 "- Why should you care?" he added with a little hum, discreetly eyeing the broken piece of technology still in the bot's hand. 

He only mused over how much 'Che would have the time of her life gloating over how she just knew the Simulacrum had something of a heart in him. 

"You're crazy," Octane said while walking alongside his childhood friend. 

"Come on Silva, just think about it," she urged him. 

"I've never seen him act so...so unlike himself," she said. " just pay attention," she advised him, and from then on, he had kept a close eye on you and Revenant.

And he was surpised to notice the little things. 

Like, your laugh around him. 

There was a little pitch you reached that made him roll his eyes when he noticed. 

And the bot's eery way of standing over you had become less intimidating the more he paid attention.

Instead, it seemed cheesy, like a man leaning in for some attention, lingering for something more.

Octane then began to chuckle lowly, almost losing himself in a fit of giggles as he wondered what the Simulacrum would do when he found out it was nothing but a PR stunt.

"But just don't tell anyone," you said after he'd caught you and Mirage talking about it. 

"I mean, I love my girl," Mirage said with a smile, "But it's just business," he told the other male offhandedly.

"Just a bit of teasing the crowd," he added simply. 

"You think anyone could really hold down all this?" he asked while slowly turning as if proving a point, and it made you stare flatly at Octane.

"It's just such a shame," you grumbled, not really convincing anyone you were heartbroken about the reality of your romance.

You loved Elliot, but he really was something of a manwhore, and while he was a funny guy, you pitied the person that actually fell for him.

" Anyways, It's innocent too. We're just spending a bit of time together to get some buzz, especially since they're coming out with new merch for this one," he said while pointing at you, reminding Silva of the new, upcoming event. 

"It's really been up to the fans for debate, which is fun," he added with a chuckle, but you disagreed, cringing at some of the comments.

-And the fanart?

You burned with embarrassment at some people's talent.

Meanwhile, Octane nodded, understanding. 

Was it meant to tease the bot? 

Perhaps, but there was just something exciting about it; 

"Senior loincloth, if only you'd been faster," he added with yet another chuckle as he drew back. 

#revenant x reader #apex #apex x reader #revenant x reader insert #apex fanfic #revenant x you #revenant fanfic #revenant fanfiction #revenant x y/n #revenant #octane #mirage

[alloftheimaginesblog]

almost lost you {s.h}

Plot: You're Steve Harrington's best friend so of course you're going to follow him into the depths of the lake and into the Upside Down. He's pissed that you've risked your life for him but when he sees that you're injured, your relationship shifts.

Character: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Female Reader

Warnings; MDNI, 18+, SMUT, NSFW, blood, wounds, gore, sex, soft sex

Word count: 11.6k

this is my favourite thing i've ever written

Of course you'd followed him down here, of course you weren't just going to leave your best friend to drown and/or be taken to the Upside Down and be killed. You were never a strong swimmer but you'd be damned if you weren't going to save that stupid boy. Reacting on blind adrenaline, you abandon your jacket in the boat, grab an oar and then you dive into the lake.

The water is freezing, prickling your skin like needles, but you barely register it. You have to get to him. It's a lot deeper than you expected and by the time you reach the red, glowing gate your lungs burn for sweet oxygen. Grimacing, your hand reaches out, pushing through the fleshy gate before you push your entire self through and all you can think in that moment is that you hope there's no more swimming involved.

Your back hits cold hard ground as you lay there gasping for air, thankfully no more water. You'd landed on concrete. It doesn't take long before you jump up, dripping wet and undeniably in the Upside Down, and start hitting everything in sight. They were like bats with big wings and long tails and they swarm you. You whack them with everything you have before they break away and then you see Steve a few metres away. He's being choked, strangled by one of the bat's tails, arms and legs flailing to find something to get it off of him. You spring into action, barrelling over to the bat and hitting with all of the strength you could muster. Bats swarm and attack you with teeth like razors slicing into your skin but you couldn't care about that now. You have to help Steve. With a final thwack! the bat that had been strangling him dropped down, releasing Steve's neck. It lay on the ground, twitching and making a faint screeching noise so you whack it a few more times making sure it's finally dead before dropping to Steve, "Are you okay?!"

"I told you not to follow me!" His voice is a croaky yell as he pants hard, "You shouldn't be in here! Not you!"

"You think I'm not going to follow you into the depths of hell? Oh, Harrington, we're too far into this friendship for that. I'd follow you to Mordor." He rolls his eyes at your Lord of the Rings reference, far too used to you and your nerdy comments.

"It's too dangerous-" he cuts himself off, realising that blood dribbles from various cuts on your arms, "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine," you tell him strongly and honestly you do feel fine. The adrenaline is coursing around your body and right now, you don't feel any of the wounds, "I'm fine. They're just scratches." He accepts this, leaning back to take deep breaths as the rest of your friends appear each more horrified than the last (Eddie's last to come and judging by his scream of 'what the fucking shit is this?!' you can tell he's pretty freaked), "Can you stand?"

He nods and with your outstretched hand, you help him up. Once he's up, he looks around, "You all came down?"

Eddie runs his hands through his wild curls, "Dude, they all came down and I didn't want to be the only one not here."

The five of you look around. It's terrifying down here. The whole place looks familiar but it just feels off; uncanny valley or whatever they call it. It looks like Hawkins but an evil version of it. The sky crackles above you, lightning and thunder casting an eerie red glow over the Upside Down town. You look to the ground and see that the tendrils, the long fleshy veins, are everywhere.

"Be careful where you step," Nancy says, "it's a hivemind so it's all connected. You step on it, it knows we're here." Everyone knows it's more so pointed at Robin who can never seem to keep her balance even when standing perfectly still.

Robin nods, "I can do that," she murmurs to herself as the five of you begin to walk in the direction of the Creel House. You don't know who she's trying to convince more; the four of you or herself.

There's an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Steve's shoulder brushes yours and you immediately feel the dread die down for a moment. You breathe in a deep breath and puff out your chest as you continue walking.

As the lot of you tread through the Upside Down, you begin to feel slightly hazy, just around the edges at first as though you've just woken up and you're trying to shake off the tired and then it wrapped you up all at once. One minute you're beside him and the next, you've dropped to the floor, eyes rolling. Steve yells out, alerting his friends, as he falls beside you, hands on your cheeks. He's shouting your name, shaking you when he realises that your jeans at the thigh are dark and wet... you're bleeding. He pulls back the fabric and sees a large bite wound. He'd known you'd gotten scratched but you'd told him it was fine, not sore and not deep. He mentally curses you.

"I can help," Nancy says quickly as she rips her shirt, pulling a thick part of fabric off, "Move out the way and I'll bandage her leg."

Steve shakes his head, "I have to do it." He can't lose you; he has to be the one who saves you. He has to be the one to do it. He keeps talking to you, asking if you can hear him but you're not waking up. Panic surges inside of him, heart beating quicker as he stares down at you. Why aren't you waking up?

His hands are clumsy and shaking as Nancy hands him the piece of fabric from her now ripped shirt. Four years into this and they'd still never thought to bring a first aid kit wherever they went. The ripped cloth of the t-shirt would have to do and once tied tight, it would at least apply pressure and hopefully stop the bleeding. Steve's eyes dart to your face, scanning your face to see if you're awake. He's talking to you the whole time, panicked and adrenaline fuelled sentences that he doesn't remember.

"You gotta open your eyes, (y/n). Show me those pretty eyes."

"You think I'm really worth all this fuss?"

"You just had to follow me in here, didn't you?"

"I need you to open your eyes and speak to me, (y/n). I need to know that you're okay. Please."

"Please don't leave me."

You can hear him but it's all fuzzy. It sounds like you're underwater, he sounds far away. It feels peaceful but you fight and you fight hard. It takes every bit of strength you have to open your eyelids which feel like they're weighted down, it's brief but it's good enough. He breathes a sigh of relief as he sees your eyes fluttering, you're alive but you're slipping in and out of consciousness, world feeling hazy as you lay on the ground.

"Hey," he says, voice loud enough to wake you up but quiet enough that the rest of the group wouldn't hear, "you gotta keep those pretty eyes open for me, (y/n)."

You blink up at him, wiggling your fingers as the sensations of your body flood back to you, the pain floods back hitting hard and making you groan out. Steve asks if you're okay and all you can respond with is, "M'awake."

"Keep it that way." He holds up the makeshift bandage, "This is gonna hurt."

You're all banged up, covered in cuts scrapes and bites but the bite on your leg is the worst. Between the two of you, you're able to peel back the ripped jeans on your thigh to expose the bleeding wound. Steve grimaces, "That good, huh?" He doesn't respond and instead pulls the fabric around your leg tightly. You wince, hissing out in pain but you let him continue as he tries his hardest to be gentle by wrapping it tightly around your thigh before tying it tight. The pain from your wound is forcing you to be awake and conscious, sending streams of curse words out of your mouth. It hurts and it hurts bad, it burns and stings with every movement. Your whole body wants to sleep but the wound pulsing under the bandage won't let you and you're thankful for it. One of his hands is on your arm, never wanting to part with you, and all he can do is watch as you breathe hard, teeth grit, as you manage to sit up.

"Motherfucker," you hiss, "that hurts worse than that time I catapulted off the wall up behind Benny's and landed on that rock."

Despite everything, he manages a small smile and a breath of laughter, "Your mom never forgave me for that one even though it was your idea." He glances down at your leg, looking at the bloodied cloth, "That should hopefully stop the bleeding."

Nancy glances into the sky and realises that the bats are coming back and there are hoards of them this time, "Uh, guys?" She asks, voice tense.

Steve looks over at her and then follows her gaze upwards. Fuck. You do it too and you know that there's no time. You have to move. All you want to do right now is curl into a ball in bed - in Steve's bed - like that one time when you drunk and you fell asleep wrapped up together cause that's just what friends do, right?

"I'm okay," you tell him nodding and just like Robin not long ago, you don't know who you're trying to convince more, "just... help me up will you?"

Steve's strong hands pull you up and immediately wrap you in a tight hug, "Don't ever do that to me again," he huffs breath tickling your neck, "I thought I was about to lose you."

"You can't get rid of me that easy, Harrington." You thought that joking would help the situation but no, if anything it made him worse. He's shaking; absolutely terrified from the ordeal of thinking he'd lost you. He pulled back, heart hammering in his chest, as he stares down at his hands that are smeared with your blood. His eyes are glassy and he looks like he's about to cry. You take a breath, taking his hands in yours, "Hey," you whisper, forcing his attention away from his hands and to you instead, "I'm here, okay? I'm alright; bruised and bloodied but I'm alive, Steve, okay?"

"I can't lose you." It's an admission of some sort, not a full blown 'I love you' but it's pretty damn close. It makes your heart race and all you can do is hug him again, pulling him in tight. For a moment, just a moment, everything faded away around the two of you and you could close your eyes and pretend that everything's okay.

The moment's over all too soon when Nancy clears her throat from up ahead. You look over to her and she gives you an apologetic smile. It's time to go.

"Out of the frying pan," you say, taking Steve's hand tightly.

"And into the fire."

Walking isn't an easy task, you're slow and unsteady and with every step, you want to yell out in pain. Steve stays at your side, supporting you as much as he can, "I could carry you, you know... At the very least just a piggy back ride." You're holding everyone up and there's not enough time to let you go at your own pace, you have to move quicker but each time you try, the pain burns stronger.

Quickly, you shake your head, "Over my dead body."

"Yeah, well it might have to be if you're walking this damn slow," he snaps half serious, "Seriously, (y/n), let me lift you."

You push back from him. It's been years since someone picked you up, last time someone did they commented on how heavy you were and how you should think about losing some weight. You were humiliated that day so never again. You had a complicated relationship with your body, in some things you really liked the way your body filled out clothes, in other aspects you hated it. It wasn't a secret that you were fat, people had eyes and they could see it obviously, but it's like when your friend has a very obvious massive red spot on their face - you see it but you just don't speak about it. You don't voice things that could very well be an insecurity for some people.

"Steve, I- I'm too heavy." You feel pathetic as you say it and you can't look at him. You hate that you still have these worries and insecurities but after years of society telling you how you should look of course it had an impact on you.

Steve stops.

He ducks his head to look at you with sad eyes. He hates that you're ashamed of yourself in this way when in his eyes you're absolutely perfect. "Let me help you, (y/n), please," he says quietly so the others don't hear, "You won't hurt me, you're not too heavy, I'm strong and I can get us there faster... It'll help your leg, it'll let you rest it even for a while."

"You're not going to... to laugh at me for how heavy I am?"

Something bubbles up inside him in that moment and all he wants to do is wrap you up and keep you away from all the bad things in life. My god, he wants to kiss those insecurities away, make you realise that you're the prettiest goddamn girl in the world. No one comes close. He shakes his head, strands of his perfect hair falling out of place, and he takes one of your hands, "I'd never do that. You're not going to be heavy for me just let me help you."

If it had to be someone, you would've picked Steve so with a sigh, you relent and he crouches so that you can jump onto his back. You almost forget about the pain in your leg as the nerves burn hard in the pit of your stomach. He lifts you with a surprising amount of ease, jumping to readjust you so that his hand isn't anywhere near your injured leg, "Comfy?" He asks as he starts walking.

"If I'm too heavy you can just put me down, it's okay. I'll walk faster, you don't have to-"

"(y/n)," he cuts over your rambling, "I've got you, don't worry. Just take a breath and chill out for a bit." He begins to walk and catches up with the group on their path to the Creel House. Nancy and Robin glance at you both before catching the other's eye and giving the other a knowing smile.

You bury your head in the crook of Steve's neck, breathing long and deep. Steve can't think straight. All he can focus on is the way your breath is hot against his cool skin and the way your lips gently graze his neck with every step. The feelings that he thought he'd buried down long ago burn violently under the surface. Dustin would be screaming 'I told you so' if he was here right now. For years Dustin had been trying to get Steve to realise the true nature of his feelings for you and finally, fucking finally, it was happening. He shakes his head, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart when your lips graze his skin, and instead he tries to focus on the task at hand.

Everything's over, it's done... at least for now.

You manage to get back to Steve's house in one piece, the five of you traumatised and dirty. Steve's house was empty as usual, his parents both working out of state, so the five of you crowded in Steve's car, Steve driving and you in the passenger seat with his hand in yours. The five of you cram into Steve's car, bloodied and bruised and knackered but you're all alive. Steve drives through Hawkins but his focus is entirely on you. Since your injuries, he hadn't stopped touching you; holding your hand, arms wrapped around you... He had to keep touching you, had to keep reminding himself that you were okay. Every now and then, his thumb brushes over the bloodied skin of your hand. Dustin, Lucas and Max had radioed a while back to say that they got home okay, they'd nearly been caught by police but managed to escape so it was just a straight drive to Steve's. It felt strange being back in Hawkins. You hadn't been away for too long in the Upside Down but returning as though life was normal was a weird one. Things weren't normal; things were pretty fucking strange.

As the five of you enter Steve's house, Nancy darts off to the phone. She'll be trying to get a hold of Jonathan. Eddie asks if Steve's got any beer, Steve points him in the direction of the kitchen and Robin follows in search for food.

It's just you and Steve standing in the hallway.

"How's your leg?" He asks you.

"Fucking killer," you frown, looking down at the bloodied state of your jeans. You hadn't realised just how much you'd bled with being in the tinted red Upside Down since it was kind of hard to see but now it was a stark contrast against your light blue jeans even in the darkness of the night.

"You wanna go shower first?"

You nod quickly. The thought of a shower appeals to you, being able to wash off the dirt, grime and blood and getting to properly clean your wound, oh it sounds like bliss. The only thing that halts you - as you attempt to very slowly climb the stairs - is that Steve obviously won't be in there with you. For the entirety of the night, since jumping into the lake and heading into the Upside Down, Steve had been by your side, constantly touching you in some way, and now... you weren't ready for that to stop. Things had changed, things that you weren't sure you could keep a secret for much longer, and you weren't ready to be apart from him, not yet; not ever.

You glance back at him and he seems to know what you're thinking. He can tell by the panicked look in your eye and he quickly nods and says, "I'll be right outside the door, I promise."

He helps you as much as he can upstairs, holding you up while you hiss and curse in agony as pains shoot up your leg, and helps you into his bedroom. He raids his closet and finds an old jersey of his, it's big and baggy and it'll definitely fit you, before he grabs a pair of stretchy gym shorts from his closet, "Here," he says as he hands you it, "change into these and we'll wash your clothes. We'll get everyone's stuff washed actually."

You're quiet as you nod and pad slowly back to the bathroom, Steve behind you. He slides down the wall, sitting on the floor just to the left of the bathroom door, "I'll wait here, take as long as you need." You're hesitant to leave him but you know that there's no way around this so you thank him and close the door behind you. As soon as you're in the bathroom, you want to turn back and find comfort in his arms but you force yourself to move forwards towards the shower. You have no other choice but to shower, you need to get cleaned up and you'd already prolonged that for long enough.

Stripping off your clothes is harder than you thought it was going to be, they're stuck to you, stuck to your skin from dampness, sweat and blood. You manage to peel your t-shirt off before chucking it to the floor. You take a breath as your hands work gently to untie the makeshift bandage around your leg. You curse loudly and Steve's calling out after you, asking if you're alright.

"Fine," your voice is tense as you try and breathe the pain away, "just getting these stupid jeans off. Leg's agony."

"Once you're cleaned I'll get the first aid kit and patch you up, give you painkillers too." He wishes that he could do more, that it could've been him instead of you that got badly hurt but there's nothing he can do now. All he can do is try and help you be comfortable.

"Can you talk to me about something? I need a distraction so I can pull these jeans off."

Immediately, he straightens and starts talking to you about the time in sixth grade when William Denver got a pencil lodged in his ear after a dare gone wrong. It was the distraction you needed as you managed to pull your jeans down with some ease and some pain. You stay standing for a minute just listening to him talking, it's nice; he's nice. You like that he didn't even question it, he just produced a memory from random and started rambling about it. He never made you feel silly or like you were asking for too much, he just did whatever you needed him to.

"Steve?" You say after a minute .

"Yeah?"

"You can stop talking, I did it."

"How does the wound look?"

"Gonna be honest, Harrington, I'm not fucking looking at it." It was the truth. You don't want to look at the wound, not yet. You'll wait until it was clean to do that. If you look now, you'd freak out so instead, you climb into the shower and almost instantly, you feel a million times better.

As Steve sat outside, scraping blood from under his nails, he couldn't get something that Eddie had said to him out of his head.

"It was (y/n), dude. As soon as you were pulled under, she was off like a shot. I've never seen anyone move that fast. She didn't even think about it, just dove in straight after you... You've got a good one there, dude. Can tell she really loves you."

Was that true? Did you love him? The questions whirred around Steve's mind and it was all he could focus on, nothing else except you. Things had changed and it was obvious, even to the two of you.

The water is hot but not too hot that it hurts. You stand in the shower just letting the water rush over you for what feels like forever, you're just enjoying avoiding looking at the bottom of the bathtub. When you finally look, it shocks you that it's still red, that there's still so much blood and grime on your skin that it's still turning the running water red. It makes your stomach flip and makes your eyes fill with tears. You'd hoped that by the time you opened your eyes, the only reminder about what happened that night would be the bite on your leg but when you open your eyes, the reminder is still all over you. You're still caked with dirt and blood, sticking to each and every crevice of you. With outstretched hands, you steady yourself against the wall as the reality of the whole situation hits you. It hits you hard from Steve choking to you passing out to the piggy back to the events in the Creel house... it all hits you like a train and you can't hold back the sobs that wrack your body. All you want to do is curl up and cry and sleep and pretend everything was normal.

It's too much. It's all too much. Steve was used to this life but you weren't, he'd always kept you safe from this world and now here you were, standing in the shower covered in blood; your blood, your friends blood and strange creature's blood. Bile rose in your throat as you desperately try and calm down. Your whole body is shaking as reality hits you, the adrenaline from diving into the lake to save your best friend stayed in the Upside Down, it didn't come back. You don't feel brave anymore but instead weak and scared.

Steve hears you. He can hear the sobs that come from you though drowned out by the shower but he hears and it breaks his heart. He looks at his hands which have dried blood coating them; your blood. He knows the feeling that's crashing over you, he knows how intense and overwhelming those moments are so he does the only thing he can do. He begins to talk loudly so that you can hear him over the noise of the shower, he doesn't know what he's talking about, he's just talking. He needs to fill the space, needs you to concentrate on something other than the panic and dread that's nestled and made its home so very deep inside of you.

You frown as you try and control your crying to listen. He's rambling about the time in eighth grade when he decided to skateboard off of the top of his garage and he ended up with a broken ankle. Rambling about how freaked out he was seeing the blood and the bone and how calm you were, about how you calmed him down told him that he'd be okay. You were the one who calmed him down with jokes in the ambulance ride to hospital and when they told him he'd need surgery, it was you who made him feel better by saying he'd have such a cool scar. It was you who waited hours on him coming out even despite your mom not being happy since it was a school night. It was you who visited first. It was you who signed his cast first.

"You've always been the strong one, (y/n). Always been the one to help me out... Always been you."

You'd been so focused on listening that your body worked in autopilot, scrubbing your skin hard of all of the grime and blood and when he was finished, you realised that you were almost done too. You catch a glance or two at your thigh, the wound is angry and red and it's deep but it's not as bad as it once looked. You scrub your nails furiously, trying to get the blood that's jammed under them out, before turning the water off.

You can hear him talking to someone outside the door, it sounds like Robin. You dry yourself off, careful not to irritate your thigh too much, before pulling on his jersey and shorts. They fit and they fit baggy which surprises you. They must've been huge on Steve. You wipe the steamed up mirror to look at the blurry vision of you. You like it, you like wearing his clothes. They smell like him, a mixture of cologne, pine and vanilla. You love that smell.

It's not much longer before he's knocking on the door, "You alright?"

You don't reply and instead just open the door. He almost can't function as you stand there in his clothes. It's an old jersey and shorts but oh my god, you make them look incredible. Something within him stirs, something possessive and feral inside of him but it's forgotten about after a second when you ask him if he's alright, "You're just staring at me, you good?" You feel self-conscious under his gaze because he's never looked at you like that before, at least not that you've been aware of. You shift in his jersey, self-consciously tugging at the hem to pull it down so it wasn't clinging to your stomach.

"I, uh, yeah. I'm fine." He nods quickly, "Robin came up a couple minutes ago. Her and Nancy are gonna use the downstairs shower so pointed them in the direction of my mom's closet for clothes. Eddie's just showered and is wandering about in his boxers so just don't look." You manage a small smile, "She says that Nancy's making some food if you wanted to go down-" He sees the absolute look of terror in your eyes, "Or you can wait here for me coming out the shower?" You nod quickly, "Okay, that's fine. I'll try to not take too long." He smiles knowing that you don't want to be away from him, he doesn't want to be away from you either. He grabs himself a clean towel and something to change into before disappearing into the hot and steamy bathroom.

You awkwardly manage to slide down the wall without irritating your leg too much as you wait for him to finish. You try and shut your mind off, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts for any longer than necessary, so you distract yourself with any means necessary.

You think back to when you and Steve were twelve and had thrown a party for the two of you in your basement. You'd stolen your dad's old records as the two of you danced around, wired to the moon on sugar and candy. A song had come on, Life On Mars - David Bowie, and the two of you were in total amazement. It swiftly became 'your song' as Steve dubbed it. It wasn't romantic like most couples songs were but it was a song that the two of you would dance around the room and sing loudly in the car to. You began to hum it quietly to yourself trying to stay focused in the memory of that silly party the two of you threw.

He doesn't take too long but it's been long enough when it hits the fifteen minute mark. You feel on edge. You know that he's just on the other side of the door but you don't feel right knowing that he's not there beside you. Your hands fidget nervously with the hem of the jersey as you breathe in his scent from it to keep calm. You long abandoned humming David Bowie as after five minutes, you were driving yourself insane, and instead spent the last ten minutes with your eyes squeezed shut head pressed back against the wall as you try and calm the rising panic.

The door swings open a few minutes later and there he is, standing there freshly cleaned and washed with his sopping wet hair still looking perfect and a clean t-shirt and shorts on. You reach out for him to help you up and when he does, you throw your arms around him tightly. You need to feel him, need to know he's okay and he's safe. He seems to need this embrace as much as you do as he responds by tightly pulling you against him, bodies flush against the other, warm and damp. His hands grip onto the fabric of your material as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, "I almost lost you," he breathes out. His voice is thick and you can tell that he's close to tears. He can't get over how close he came to losing you. It put everything into perspective for him then, made him realise that life was too short to continue pretending that there wasn't obviously something between the two of you.

"I almost lost you," you murmur as tears build in your eyes, lips once again grazing over the skin of his neck, "I saw you go under and I just- I didn't even think I just jumped in after you." Steve closed his eyes briefly, so what Eddie had told him was true.

It almost doesn't feel real what happened tonight. The whole thing, even this standing in the safe arms of Steve Harrington, it feels like you could blink and be back in the Upside Down so you cling to him and he clings back just as hard. Neither of you cry but the fact that you both welled up over nearly losing the other proved the point regardless.

It's not until you hear someone padding upstairs that the two of you break apart, though his hand holds yours, it's Nancy. She's wearing pyjamas that belonged to Steve's mom, loose and baggy on her, "Food's ready," her voice is quiet and her smile is apologetic knowing that she's just walked into something that she shouldn't be seeing.

Steve nods before he gathers yours and his clothes and then he leads you slowly downstairs to go and eat. Steve tells you that you'll eat then he'll patch your leg up. The smell hits you when you walk into the kitchen; pizza, chicken nuggets and fries. Nancy had raided the freezer and put on a feast for everyone. You didn't think you were hungry until you got there and saw the food. Steve bundles together everyone's clothes and chucks them into the washing machine, pouring a healthy amount of detergent in before turning it on. It's only then as the five of you crowd round the table, chairs squeaking as you pull them in, that you feel the hunger. You all eat in silence the only noise that can be heard is chewing and the grumble of the washing machine. Usually you didn't like eating in front of people, you got worried about what they'd think about your portion size or made a comment but right now you didn't care. With Steve's hand on your knee, you couldn't care about anything else right now. It doesn't take long before the food's finished and you're all guzzling on the water bottles that Nancy had placed on the table.

It's then that you look around the table, looking at everyone. Everyone's clean, smelling of vanilla body wash and coconut shampoo, with clean clothes that are a little loose and baggy (aside from Eddie who only wears boxers but he's wrapped the throw from the couch around himself) but the angry red scrapes, scratches and cuts that litter everyone's limbs are hard to hide. Nancy's managed to shower, change, cook dinner and even managed to treat hers, Robin's and Eddie's scrapes and cuts in the time it took you and Steve to shower. Impressive.

Once the food's finished, everyone scatters. No one really talks aside from their 'thank you's to Nancy. Steve gathers the plates up and puts them in the sink. You wait. He'll wash them in the morning he decides before moving to the counter where Nancy had left the first aid box. He grabs it and wiggles it in his hand, "You ready?"

You nod, "Let's get it over with."

He kneels down in front of you as you sit in the chair, "Can I?" He asks as he nods to the shorts you're wearing. You nod. Robin walks into the kitchen and quickly backs away, the scene unfolding far too intimate for anyone else to see. She warns Nancy and Eddie to stay away. Steve hands are gentle as he rolls your shorts upwards to get to your mid thigh. It's then you both get a good look at your wound. It's angry and raw but it looks better. The bleeding stopped a while ago so that's a good sign. Still hurts like hell though.

He rummages through the first aid box, finding a wipe and a large plaster, "It's gonna hurt." He tells you as he tears open the antiseptic wipe. You nod quickly and with a tender hand, he cleans it. It stings and burns but you aren't focusing on the cut, you're looking at Steve. You're looking at the way his hair falls into his vision and he blows it away with an upwards puff of air. You're watching the way his brow furrows in concentration as he gnaws on his lower lip making sure to not cause any further harm to you.

He grabs stuff to dress it with, glancing up at you, doing a double take when he realises that you're staring at him, "I'm not hurting you am I?"

You shake your head, "No, you're fine."

He goes back to gently dressing your wound and before you know it, he's finished. You go to pull away but Steve reaches out, "You forgot the most crucial part of patching up a wound," he chides, that playful tone once again back where it belongs. You frown but before you can ask what he means, his head ducks low and his lips graze the skin above the dressing. It's so soft and gentle that you wouldn't have known he'd done it had you not been staring at him with wide eyes. Where he kisses feels hot but not from the wound rather from him. Your heart beats fast in your chest and your cheeks feel like they're on fire, "There." His breath tickles over your skin. He lingers for a few seconds, too long for a friend, before he pulls back and stands up leaving you sitting there absolutely stunned.

He smirks as he turns away from you, discarding the empty wrappers in the bin, he knows what he's doing to you. Hope burns strong inside him, hope that maybe this is it; this is his chance, your chance. When he turns around you tell him to sit down, "Mine are fine," he says with a shake of the head, "not as bad as yours."

"So?" You ask with a raised brow, "Sit."

He complies.

You grab some plasters that were at the bottom of the box which happen to be some yellow and red plasters with various wild animals on them. Steve laughs slightly, "Seriously?" He asks as you grab a wipe to clean him.

"It's the only plasters you've got, not my fault Harrington."

He rolls his eyes but humours you and lets you dab his cuts carefully before sticking down the plasters. You only plaster the ones that are deeper so he ends up with some on his arms and one on his left temple. He goes to stand up, "Wait," you tell him fighting off a smirk, "you forgot the most crucial part of patching up a wound." His eyes widen slightly and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat. Two can play at your game, Harrington. Slowly, you duck your head to press gentle kisses to the cuts on his arms, lips lingering just as his did. Steve swallows hard. It's taking everything to control himself right now and even then, he's barely controlling himself. He can't stop thinking about the way your lips feel, soft and warm on his skin, and he can't stop thinking about how they'd feel against his own.

Your heart is beating harder but you don't let it show as you lean in close to him. Steve's eyes are trained on you, never wavering, entirely focused on your next move. You press a gentle kiss to his temple, your hand rests on his knee for leverage. Steve swallows hard again and you secretly smile knowing that you're having some form of effect on him. He can smell you, smell the shampoo in your hair that he uses, he can smell his jersey on you and he loves that he can smell himself on you. Again, that primal urge rises in him but he pushes it away as you lean back and sit back down in your chair.

"Uh... thanks," he says as he clears his throat. You like seeing him like this, flustered and flushed, "How's it feel?" He asks referring to your wound.

"Better." Your cheeks feel hot as you replay the moment of him kissing your thigh over and over in your head. He stands up and takes your hand before slowly leading you out of the kitchen and into the living room. You like the way his hand feels in yours, warm and large.

Eddie's set up camp for the night there, laying on the couch under a blanket with a cushion shoved under his head. Robin's curled in the armchair almost half asleep but Steve taps her leg and tells her to go to the guest room, Nancy too who was coming downstairs carrying blankets. Without a word, the two girls nod and head upstairs.

You and Steve aren't far behind them, following them up after he locks the door. There's no question of where you're sleeping, not an utterance of a word about it, instead it's just quiet acceptance. He makes sure that Nancy and Robin are comfortable before leading you into his bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him.

Nerves bubble in your stomach. It's different. You've been in Steve's room hundreds of times over the years of being friends. You'd slept in this room plenty before too on duvets on the floor and once in his bed curled up with him after a drunken party. This time though... it feels different. It doesn't feel like sleeping over with a friend because well, he's not a friend anymore. You aren't sure how he feels about you but you know that this isn't how friends treat each other. You don't want to get your hopes up just in case but they're there, niggling under the surface of your skin.

It's only when you're in his room with the door closed, you're unsure what to do next. Steve's not shy and he knows exactly where you're going to be. He walks to his side of the bed and lifts the duvet to get in, "Well?" He asks, "Hurry up and get in here."

He doesn't need to tell you twice.

Your heart beats fast as you climb into bed beside him. The bed smells like him, it smells like home. Steve watches you the whole time, the words he wants to say are right there on the tip of his tongue, locked behind his teeth but he's not feeling brave anymore so he stays silent. There's a certain tension in the air that you both feel as you lie on your sides, facing each other. Your heart hammers in your chest as your mind whirs with the possibilities of what might be.

The moon seems to be right outside of Steve's open windows, shining in bright so that you can see him, he's a duller and darker version in this light but he's still Steve; your Steve. You look up at him from behind long lashes and you find his eyes boring into yours, roaming and searching, looking for an answer to the question that he hasn't asked. It seems to click then, to both of you, that this was something more than what is once was or maybe this is way it always had been but it was only now you were realising it. He shifts closer and you do too as his eyes switch from your lips to your eyes. The burning desire to kiss someone has never been this strong before.

All you can hear is the beat of your heart in your ears like a drum, faster and faster, as you inch closer to him. He finds one of your hands lost under the sheets and takes it, clasping your fingers together tightly. It's then when you look up and realise that you're almost pressed together. Steve swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, as his breath tickles over your face.

It happens.

You're not sure who moved in first, it was more like a joint effort to meet in the middle. Your eyes flutter shut as Steve closes the gap between your lips, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It's a small kiss, gentle and it doesn't last long but in that moment, everything slots together and you feel like everything's right again. He's testing the waters with this kiss, keeps it short and sweet before he pulls back a few centimetres, eyes scanning your face for some kind of regret or negativity but he doesn't find it.

Your mind reels from the fact that you and Steve just kissed. Your stomach is a jumble of nerves overlapping each other and writhing deep in the pit of your stomach. That few seconds where you're just staring at each other, eyes searching for confirmation, seemed to solidify something for the two of you, a silent agreement, consent and before you knew it, it was a push and a pull of bodies. Your free hand tangles in his shirt, pulling him close as his pulls you in at the waist.

No other kiss has ever felt like this one. It's fast and hard, smashing of lips and clashing tongues. It's hungry and passionate, it's a 'finally' moment, a breath of fresh air, a breath of relief. You've never been kissed like this before; never been kissed with such intensity and passion behind it. He kisses you like it means something because to him, it does; it means everything.

With a swift kick, he shoves the sheets to the floor where they gather in a pile. He rolls you onto your back and shifts without breaking the kiss so that he's over you, hands on either side of your head as you kiss. His knee moves between your legs, parting them, and pushing upwards. You gasp, breaking the kiss, at the sudden friction between your legs.

He snaps back.

His eyes roam your face again as your brow furrows. He worries that he's gone too far, moved too fast, but you grab a handful of his cotton shirt and pull him back down to kiss you. There's a new found confidence within you, allowing you to grab him and kiss him which you wouldn't have done before, you kiss him hard and he seems to get the hint that you want this, that you want him.

You almost feel like you need to be pinched, like at any moment you're going to open your eyes and you'll be somewhere else; that this is all a dream. For years, you'd had a crush on him but you thought it would always just be a secret and never be reciprocated but here he is, kissing you as though his goddamn life depends on it. You. He's kissing you. If 14 year old you could see you now. Well maybe not the scenes that would unfold in the next few minutes but my god, it would be the biggest confidence boost knowing that you, despite your weight and despite your size, would have Steve Harrington fawning over you. It felt good to be wanted, it felt right.

Soon the kiss turns needy and desperate as heat pools between your legs. Your hips push downwards into his knee trying to feel the friction through the cotton shorts that you wear. Steve's lips pull away from yours, extracting an audible whine from you, as he moves to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. He kisses everywhere, peppering small kisses on the soft skin before finding the spot on your neck that makes your gasp and makes your back arch. His hands are on your sides, dancing the hem of the jersey you wear up, and it's then it kicks in. Your hand darts out to catch his, stopping it in its place.

He stops.

"Am I going too fast- dammit, shit, sorry, sweetheart. I-I got carried away-"

You shush his worries and cut off his rambling before you answer him softly, "Self-conscious." Your voice is a mere whisper and Steve's face immediately softens. You'd never really had anyone touch you like this, with so much care and love and it makes you so aware of all of your imperfections. The worry that sits in the back of your mind, too, is that you know Steve's dating history; tiny, petite and pretty girls... Not you. Not fat and curvy and lumpy. Steve's eyes bore into yours and he can see your worries, sitting so openly and plainly in front of him.

"Baby," he murmurs, hand trailing fire over your cheek as he caresses it, "I think you're perfect." You look in his eyes and you know that there's a decade of trust there, a decade of friendship and loyalty, a decade of love, "You don't have to hide from me." You're still not quite there so Steve continues, "Your body, your smile, your laugh; you are perfect to me, (y/n). Beautiful. Your weight and size doesn't make you any less so... I want you, (y/n). Why do you think I only gave you my clothes to wear? I only want you, no one else." You hadn't thought about why you were the only one wearing Steve's clothes. It hadn't really clicked to be honest. He'd sent Robin and Nancy to his mom's closet, Eddie chose to be half naked, and you were the only one wearing Steve's clothes. It was such an honest, sweet, possessive action that it made the heat burn between your legs.

He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the side of your jaw, then another and another before he pulls back, "You want me to stop?"

You shake your head.

"Speak up, babygirl."

"Don't stop," you whisper, "I want you... Fuck, Steve, I need you." Hearing you say it makes his cock twitch in his shorts. It doesn't take much until he's rock hard, pressing against your thigh as he kisses you again, hot and heavy.

His hands resume sliding under your shirt, over the lumps and bumps and curves of your stomach and sides until they find your bare breast, heading straight for your hard nipple. His thumb grazes over it, extracting a soft moan from your parted lips. Steve moans into your neck at the sound of you, "God," he groans, "you even sound so fucking pretty."

Your whole body feels hot, feels like you're burning a fever but in the best way possible, "Take it off," you get a moment of bravery as you push him back and pull off of the jersey, throwing it across the room where it bundles in a pile at the wardrobe. You hoist your lower half up and rather ungracefully tear off your shorts and throw them over to where the jersey resides on the floor. Thankfully Steve was to preoccupied with taking his shirt off to see.

It was when he looked back down at you, ready to move in to kiss your breast, that he stopped.

"Holy fuck, baby."

He looks at you like you're the only thing of importance in the world. The way he stares at you, drinking in your body, your curves, your stretchmarks, it makes you shift and wriggle awkwardly. The way that he looks at you, you've never had anyone look at you like that before. His gaze is so awe-filled and you never want him to stop. He follows every line, every bump, every freckle, every blemish on your body until it leads back to your face and your eyes, "So goddamn pretty."

He bends his head, taking your nipple in his mouth tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, as his fingers press into your hips. The moans that he was pulling from you were like music to his ears, every moan and mewl making his cock twitch with anticipation. Every time you moan, he hums against your nipple. God he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of hearing you or making you feel good. Your back arches and his hand slips over your stomach, groping the curve of it. You shiver and squirm but not because you're uncomfortable. His touch sends tingles down your spine and all across your soft, sensitive skin.

"Steve," you whisper out, back arching as his fingers push apart your thick thighs, "I- I- need you."

Steve growls against your skin, "Never thought I'd hear you say that, baby," he says against your skin before taking your nipple back in his mouth, tongue swirling and circling around it as his fingers trail down your thick thighs to your aching hot sex.

You've never had anyone touch you like this, your hand brushes against his and he stills, raising his head to look at you, "I've never... you know..." You're a virgin. He already knows it, just like you know that he's not and he's not been for a long time.

Steve nods, "I'll be gentle, babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth, "if it hurts or you want me to stop-"

"I'll tell you."

Steve grins, that half grin you love so much, before he attacks your neck again as his fingers continue their agonisingly slow dance down your thighs, "God," he moans into your neck as he hears the way your breath hitches in your throat, "you sound too fucking pretty. I want to hear you moan for me..." His fingers graze over your slick cunt and my god, you're soaked, "God, I want to do this right; I want to take my time with you but- I don't know how much longer I can go." His fingers part you and circle your sex until they brush over your clit.

Your eyes roll backwards as your back arches to a level you never knew possible and Steve grins at your reaction. He presses harder on your clit, pressing and circling lazy circles. Your body twists and convulses, overwhelmed by the new sensations that he's causing, your words are a jumble of moans and curse words crumbling beneath him and he's never witnessed anything so beautiful.

"J-Jesus, Steve-"

His hips involuntarily buck forwards, colliding with your thigh and his head falls as he groans, "Baby, you can't say my name like that," he hisses, "you'll make me- Jesus- I've never had that before- never had this. I'm so- so desperate for you and just hearing you, just seeing you like this is enough to make me- fuck." You love having that effect on him but he doesn't let you enjoy it for too long before a finger is pushing at your entrance. He searches your eyes and you nod as he coats it in your slick heat before slowly, his finger is being pushed inside of you.

You kiss him. Lips open and tongues swirling as he pushes inside of you, you moan against his mouth and he seems to understand what you want. He shifts and slowly pushes another finger into you and it isn't long until your hands are tugging at the sheets, his hair, nails digging into strong shoulders as you come undone beneath him. Your mind is a jumble of everything Steve. All those moments with Steve. The innocent laughter of kids, the secrets of teenagers, the awkwardness of young adults. The inside jokes, the teasing jibes, the playful roll of the eyes, the secret glances when you think he isn't look, his lovesick whenever you laugh.

Steve feels like he could finish right here, right now. Not even inside you and barely started. This moment had been in the works for years and now it was here, years of tension built up into a few lustful, passionate moments. He slips his fingers from you and immediately takes them in his mouth, tasting your natural tang on his tongue. He moans against them as he licks your wetness from them, "Fucking delicious, babygirl." He tugs his shorts down and looks down at you, "Shit, condom-"

"I'm on the pill, Steve," you pant, "we don't need it."

"Are you sure? We can stop-"

"Steve," you cut him off, leaning up on your elbows to give him a quick peck, "I'm sure."

He lines himself up and readies you for him to push into you. You gasp at his size and he gives you a few seconds to adjust before he checks if you're alright and want to continue. It's not sore, it's an unfamiliar sensation but it feels good. You nod to let Steve know you're ready to continue. His finger trails lazily down your thigh, avoiding your wounds, as he looks at you with teasing eyes.

"Words, please."

"More- God, more."

He complies, his pace slow and steady. It takes everything in his to not implode then and there in your slick warmth. It's all a bit of a blur, it feels like you're high or drunk, fuzzy around the edges and tingly. Steve's groaning into your neck, sounds that drive you crazy because my god how does he sound so fucking pretty too? Your legs are tight around him as he kisses you hard, pace quickening with every thrust. It doesn't feel like anything you'd experienced before. It's deep and makes your body squirm and shake, it makes noises you didn't know you could make escape from your throat; it makes you go wild.

"You feel so-" he groans, "so fucking good, babygirl."

The way he speaks to you, voice dark and dripping with lust, could easily tip you over the edge once more but you hang on, wanting to stretch it out just a little longer. Your eyes meet Steve's. You'd always wondered that if you and Steve did ever get together, would it be awkward? Would it be uncomfortable at first? You had your answer. It wasn't awkward, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like how it should; it felt right. Like two pieces of a puzzle slotting together perfectly.

"Cum for me," Steve pants, peppering kisses all over your face, your neck, your shoulder. Your body involuntarily convulses, gasping at his words, "Cum for me, babygirl."

You couldn't stop yourself even if you tried. One second you're staring into Steve's eyes, the next you're tumbling into the blissful vortex of an orgasm, writhing and wriggling beneath him. The sensations overwhelm you; so much pleasure, so much build up and now you're unravelling at the seams for him; for Steve. Your eyes squeeze shut as your hands go between pulling at his hair to gripping his flesh with your nails, probably adding new cuts to his already bruised and battered body. The moans that come from you, jesus, he barely contains himself. The knowledge that he's the one making you feel this good, he's the one inside you, the one who's making you moan like that... he could explode inside you right now.

"Fucking hell, babygirl," he groans into your neck, "too fucking good, too fucking tight and pretty."

His thrusts slow as you come down from your high, allowing you some time to calm your racing heart and tingly limbs. Your breathing is erratic and you can't seem to form a single word or even a single thought but only Steve. Just Steve. Always Steve.

"I can't hold it, baby," he whispers, "you're too much; perfect but so- so fucking good." He means that you're too much in the highest of compliments. He could've came with just the sight of your naked body, hell just kissing you could've made him explode, the sound of you could've made it happen so the fact he's here, listening to you, touching you, kissing you, inside of you... it's so much; too much but he never wants it to stop. He wants it forever - wants you forever.

Slowly regaining some strength back, your hips rock into his. You're unsure of how to exactly do it but you know you're doing something right when he's cursing and gasping into your ear. The more he reacts, the more confidence you gain.

"Cum for me," you whisper in his ear just as he had done to you.

His moans make you shudder with excitement and it's not long before he's cursing and groaning loudly into your neck and the pillow you lay on, fist clenched around your hand. His thrusts grow quick and sloppy and you continue to talk him through it until he stills and shudders.

Pants fill the humid air as the two of you recover and fall down from your highs. It's a moment later when Steve slowly slides out of your warmth and slides off of you, falling onto the bed next to you. He doesn't give you any time to miss his touch because as soon as he's off of you, he's pulling you in at the waist and pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

You don't know what it is, the rushing tsunami of emotions, the reality hitting you or just the whole day's overwhelming nature but you feel vulnerable in those few moments afterwards and instinctively, your hands scrabble for the sheet, pulling it half over yourself.

"Hey," Steve murmurs, one eye open, "you never have to hide from me again."

You curl into him, "I know... It's just... weird getting used to it." It doesn't feel awkward or uncomfortable or even weird. The only weird thing about it is how normal it feels. You settle into Steve's arms as you feel a question bubbling up inside of you. "How... How was it?" It's a question that you're unsure you want the answer to because what if he hated it? What if it was just okay? It's too late now anyway, the deed has been done and the question has been asked.

Steve pulls a long breath out, "I seriously mean this, babygirl... the best, most intense, most mindblowingly awesome sex I've ever had in my life. No joke. Seriously like-"

You find yourself laughing, cheeks burning and heart racing at the compliments he continued to pour out, "Okay, okay, stop, I get it! I'm the best sex you've ever had in your life and you'll never find anyone like me ever again-"

"I don't want anyone ever again." His mood turns serious, a snap of the fingers and all laughter is gone, "I only want you, (y/n)... This isn't a one-time thing for me." You look up at him and you see that expression back once again, sad and scared, "I almost lost you, (y/n). I'm never letting you go again."

Your heart skips a beat, "So what does that mean for us?"

"it means that I-" the words are right there, locked behind teeth but he doesn't feel brave anymore, "I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you either." It's as good as an admission goes. You know how he feels just like he knows how you feel for him but the two of you have been too brave for today and neither has any intrepidness left in you so you leave it at that. You'll tell him the true nature of your feelings at some point but not right now, not yet. So for now, it's enough and it isn't long before the darkness wraps its arms around you and pulls you to sleep.

Steve settles with you wrapped up around him. He's warm, almost too warm, but he's not letting go of you. He can't. With a deep breath, he does his best to block today's events in the Upside Down out of his mind and focuses on the sound of your breathing to help lull him to sleep.

The lot of you don't get up until well into the afternoon, bodies and minds equally as exhausted. Your body is sorer in the morning, achier and just plain tired, Steve thinks it's his fault and he keeps apologising profusely but kisses work wonders to soothe his worries.

"I'm just bruised and battered. Not from you, Steve. You can't ever hurt me."

When you and Steve finally emerge from downstairs, Nancy's on the phone to Jonathan, Robin's watching TV and Eddie's surprisingly making breakfast. He's quiet and his smile doesn't quite hit his eyes but he tries his best to lift spirits. When the two of you pass Robin, she gives you a warm smile - a knowing smile but not a teasing one. After the events of yesterday, there's no teasing, no jokes; it's a 'life is fucking short so get with the one you love immediately'.

Once more, you crowd around the breakfast table, a little livelier than last night but the bruises, cuts and dark circles under everyone's eyes tells a different story. Everyone's eyes have a darkness to them; a hollow emptiness after the trauma of last night. Eddie fills in the conversation where he can but even he isn't feeling up to it so the sound of silence is something that you've grown to be used to. Steve's hand doesn't leave your hand all morning, he still doesn't want to be away from you.

After breakfast, the five of you glance around at each other and there's a question that you all think but don't say. Steve finds himself answering, "You can all stay as long as you need. My parents won't be home for a week and-"

There's a group sigh of relief.

"Maybe just one more night," Nancy says, "until we can get a proper good night's sleep." She's always been so strong, so fearless but the fact that there's a slight tremor of fear in her voice is oddly comforting to you.

"Thank god because I wasn't going anywhere." Robin says as she finishes the last of her apple juice.

"Me either," Eddie says, "maybe we could extend the invite to Henderson and the rest of the little buddies."

As the rest of the group break off, with Eddie going to call Dustin and Nancy and Robin cleaning up, you and Steve move outside to sit by the pool. Steve's arm is tight around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace, "I love you." He's not feeling very brave today but he says it anyway. Life's too short, he learned that last night. So even despite his worries and fears, he had to tell you. Why not?

You press a kiss to his neck, smiling. See? Like two puzzle pieces slotting together. His confession makes you feel brave and makes you feel like you could tell him. Last night was a night of firsts; first time into the Upside Down, first time getting wounded, first time having sex so what's wrong with another first? First time telling someone that you love them; first time telling Steve. The boy who you thought was so far out of your league. Years ago you'd accepted your fate of just being friends but now? Now you were here, in his arms, so why the fuck would you let your fears stop you from taking the leap of faith?

"I love you, too." He presses a kiss to your forehead, smiling.

The two of you stay there, curled up together and smiling, until Dustin and crew get there and until Dustin yells at the top of his lungs, "I fucking knew it! Fifty bucks Harrington!"

#one shot #os #prompt #steve harrington x plus size reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #plus size #plus size reader #reader insert #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things fic #fanfic #fic #fic rec #st

[theonemeathead]

Spy x Reader, "Damn Spys"

hello! sorry for the lack of content, all i do is work nowadays. here's a spy x reader smutfic in the meantime, enjoy!

tws for fem implied reader, afab anatomy

Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck.

You propelled yourself forward, skidding down the hall. You slightly fumbled over yourself, quickly regaining your balance before sprinting off again. Everyone was on edge, it was a code red; BLU Spy was in the base. Ironic. You had little time to look for him, before God knows what might happen to all of you.

You turned sharply to the right, your loaded gun in your hand. You carried something high calliber in situations like this, it was necessary. Spys were sneaky and played dirty, they toyed with their prey until they had their fill and, only then, did they go for the kill. For all you knew, there could be duplicate of yourself running around, gaining your team's trust. Trust nobody when a Spy is in your midst.

You gunned for the intelligence room. It was only a matter of time before your briefcase was picked up and stolen by the French version of a modern day Boogeyman. You stood in front of the door, racking your brain for the code. It changed weekly, it was never the same input. Soldier normally left the code on a bright yellow sticky note above the keypad, but it seems this was the one time he'd forgotten. You typed in multiple sequences before a familiar chime played, the lock lighting up green and clicking open. Proud of yourself, you turned the doorknob, laying eyes on the briefcase immediately. You scanned the room, carefully. Spys had multiple tricks up their sleeves, including the ability to cloak. Turning invisible was not just a parlor trick when it meant you could end up, face-down, with a flashy balisong dug deep into your back.

Nodding your head, you began walking backwards. You were about to turn around and high-tail back to the others, desperate to be anything but by yourself, when you tripped over... nothing? You had fallen backwards, right on your ass. You were lucky none of the others were here, but then that led to your next question. What could have possibly been in your way? You didn't have time to think before the eerie sound of a Spy decloaking rang out, causing goosebumps to appear immediately on your body. You whipped around, catching the wrist of a very familiar man.

A Spy.

Your brow furrowed, you didn't think twice before pulling him down, towards you. He stumbled, falling forward slightly as you moved to the side. He was so light, so easy to just push around. You wondered how someone so skilled could just be tossed like nothing. You had never really touched a Spy, you tried to stay away from any of them as much as possible. The soft silk of his satin navy jacket felt heavenly, it was a shame he was trying to kill you. He tossed his beloved butterfly knife from one hand to the other, skillfully catching it and swinging back in one graceful motion. You had barely managed to jump back, hardly escaping being sliced like swiss cheese. He seemed to be getting growingly more frustrated the longer you two kept up what felt more like a waltz, than a fight. You kept narrowly avoiding lethal cuts, pushing him around as if he weighed nothing. Having had enough, he growled, fading away in a cloud of smoke again. All that indicated he was still here was the sound of his heeled footsteps.

"Turning invisible? That's cheap," you whispered more to yourself, than anyone. You panted, your senses were heightened from anxiety. Your eyes flicked around, he could be anywhere, now. The hair on your neck stood up immediately when you felt a lingering presence beginning to creep up behind you. As if on queue, he decloaked, his weapon drawn and ready to spill blood. The blade yearned for the sweet taste of that metallic crimson, and it had your name written all over it. You knew the feeling, you've grown familiar with the searing sting that would strike you down in between your shoulder blades. Being backstabbed was nothing more than just a common occurrence on the battlefield, but in your own base, it was laced with something that dug deeper than just the length of a knife; Shame.

You caught him once again, your eyes locked with his. His brow was angled down, tightly pinned together as he tried to keep pushing past the grip you had on him. Seems Soldier's training does pay off. His steel tinted eyes glistened in flickering light of the overhead LEDs, the red light of the alarm illuminating him every now and then. You took a moment to admire what little bit of his face you could see. His eyebrows were well trimmed, as if he plucked them himself. There was a slight crease on the bridge of his nose, the hook leaving a deep indent in between his eyes. You could smell the distinct scent of aftershave from how close you were, along with a fragrant cologne. His teeth, although perfect, were slightly stained from nicotine. You could see the remnants of what would be where his facial hair would grow, a shadow all that's left of what was once there. He was well kempt, you'll give him that. You had half-forgotten you were about to die, until you felt your hand falter slightly. His butterfly knife was dangerously close to the vital atery in your neck. You didn't know what to do, you felt cornered.

So, naturally, you swung your other hand up to meet the fabric of his inky blue balaclava. Taking a fistful of the fabric, you yanked it off, tossing it far off to the side. He stared, wide-eyed down at you. You felt his movements stutter, as if expecting anything but that to have happened. You took the window of opportunity to knock the balisong out of his hands, watching as it slid itself under a set of filing cabinets. Now, you were face to face with Spy, yet he didn't have the illusion of hiding behind a mask anymore. He backed off, creating distance between you two.

His cheek bones were high and defined, his jaw almost chiseled. He had a few wrinkles, frown lines and crow's feet, indicating he was aged. Much older than you. The part that surprised you the most was how much hair was under his disguise. He had a headful, most of it slicked back to the top of his head. It was a dark shade of brown, almost black. Grey streaks formed from the root, fanning back and feathering through the rest of his wavy hair. You were awestruck, to say the least.

"You're beautiful." Your words came out, breathless. You watched his frantic expression shift to one of blatant confusion.

"Pardon?" He had been called many things, handsome, sexy... but never beautiful. He flushed slightly at your compliment before quickly shaking his head. You had just ripped his mask off, sent his most prized possession flying across the room, and now you had the gall to compliment him?

He sculked towards you, watching as you took a step back everytime he moved forward. You stopped abruptly when your lower half bumped into the table; The table your intelligence sat on. He trapped you, slamming both of his long, skinny arms around your frame. Instinctively, you shrunk down. He was tall, so much taller than you. You flinched when he brought a hand up to your waist, taking the gun from its holster. He sat it on the floor, kicking it far away from where you both stood. Now you were both defenseless in the sense that you both lacked weapons.

"Do you know what I do to those who've seen my full identity, mon chérie?" The words rolled off his tongue, venom dripping from his words. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. And although he worked for the enemy, you felt yourself wanting him to say more, to do more to you. Were you into this?

"What?" It sounded meek, desperate even. Damn Spys are all the same; Flirty and suave. But, God, was he good at it. He smirked, a sinister undertone etched deep into his expression. He traced a gloved hand from the top of your knee, up towards your inner thigh. He kneaded teasing circles, dangerously close to the warmth between your legs. You were embarrassed how aroused this was getting you. The risk of being caught in an open space like this, the thrill of flirting with someone who you were supposed to hate, it was all too much. He chuckled darkly, pressing himself into you, the crotch of his slacks rubbing against your soft body.

Oh, he was getting off on this too.

"Why don't I show you." He wrapped one hand around your neck, digits pressing slightly into the vulnerable flesh between his fingers. Tenderly, he connected his lips to yours. He reveled at the way you whined into the kiss, amused by how needy you were. He allowed you to unbutton the jacket of his suit, helping you peel it off. Tongues danced around each other, the taste of mint and menthol numbing your senses. He was so intoxicating, he made even a sloppy makeout feel elegant.

He broke the kiss, a small string of saliva still connecting your mouths. You panted, pulling him by the loops of his slacks. Eagerly, you went for the zipper, ready to have your brains fucked out. Yet, it was his turn to catch your wrists. He sternly looked at you, pushing your hands back to your chest. You swallowed thickly, obeying the silent command. Instead, you opted to move to yourself. You fiddled with the buttons of your own jeans, hastily pulling them down to your ankles and off. You hopped up on the table behind you, gasping when cold steel made contact with your warm, bare skin. Spy watched you, eagerly. His gaze was hungry, maybe even desperate. There was no 'double' of you yet, MannCo. was still working out the kinks of it all. Perhaps seeing you flaunt yourself on the battlefield drove him crazy. Perhaps that's why it felt like he targeted you during those matches, to get close to you, to feel you. You reminisced often of the times of how he would hold you as you faded to Respawn.

Broken from your thoughts, you felt the leather material of an expensive glove paw at the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you for confirmation, in which you obliged by helping him lift it up and off. Experienced hands trailed to your back, masterfully unclipping your bra. It felt so nice, being pampered like this. You allowed it to fall of your shoulders, the straps sliding down your bicep as you peeled the coarse material off. You were bare beneath him, save for your panties.

"Tu es belle, mon ange," he spoke, breathlessly. He dipped, leaving soft kisses down your jaw and towards your collarbone. He lapped at the crook where the dip of your neck met your shoulders, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. He sucked, a slight sting beginning to form from the sensation. Your breath hitched, a small gasp leaving you as you felt the familiar tenderness of a bruise beginning to form. He plastered you with marks, as if claiming you. Claiming you, the 10th mercenary of the RED team, for BLU.

You laced one of your hands in his greying hair, instinctively pulling at the soft strands when he bit down particularly harsh. You heard a low groan, causing another wave of heat to pool between your legs. Seemingly satisfied with the dark purple marks littered across your upper body, he began making his way down. Leaving slow, sensual kisses down your sternum and towards your chest and down your stomach. He looped his fingers around the band of your underwear and began pulling. He slid them down with little trouble, caressing the back of your leg with his other hand as he did so. Even in the blaring alarms, he could still see how you glistened for him.

"You seem to be enjoying this, ma fleur," he purred. You let out a shakey breath, eyes following the hand that trailed from you knee, down towards your warmth. You sighed in bliss when you felt the foreign material of his gloves delve into the folds of your cunt, rubbing expertly around your clit. He started slow, making you whine and grind back against him.

"More, please. I need more." Your voice was lined with ecstasy. He chuckled, amused by how you didn't beat around the bush. Maybe you weren't so hard to break.

"Whatever you wish."

You grabbed his wrist, arching into the touch as he rubbed faster. It was insane how good at this he was. You began to feel a coil, as if a something inside of you was beginning to tighten. You rocked your hips in rythm with his fingers, biting your lip to hold back how loud you wanted to be. Eventually, it snapped. Your grip tightened on his arm, your eyes screwed shut as you felt hot bliss course through tour body. He worked you through it, stopping when you finally came down. You looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. The Frenchman grinned, maniacally, down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pride.

A silent look was shared between the two of you; A knowing look. He unfastened the buckle of his belt, allowing his pants to slide down towards the floor. He kept his shirt and tie on, but allowed you to pull his briefs down, studying your reaction as you watched his hard cock spring free. He was a lot longer than you imagined, yet not thick. He was uncircumcised, his cock a bit darker than the rest of his body. You watched as he pumped himself a couple of times, the head of his cock peaking out. It was a light pink, cute in a weird way. You watched as a line of clear precum dripped towards the floor.

He guided the tip towards your aching pussy, slowly sliding himself into the wetness of your body. He let out a long groan, as if he hadn't done this in a long time, as if he needed to use your body. You gasped when he bottomed out, the head of his cock resting against your cervix. You whimpered, desperate for him to create friction. Just like him, it had been a while since you'd done this too.

He pulled his hips back, testing the waters before pushing fully back into you. He positoned himself above you so that his hands were pulling you up towards him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, encasing him deep inside you. You threw your arms around his neck, one planting itself deep in his hair, yet again. He fucked into you, rough and fast. Every thrust illicited an even more vulgar moan from you. It didn't help he was rather noisy in your ear, either. Praising you in a language you didn't understand, groaning your name. Not your class name either; Your real name.

Suddenly, he hit a spot, his cock dragging fully against it. He abused it, knowing what it was doing to you. You couldn't even get the words out before you reached your climax, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your noises. This seemed to be what pushed him over, the way you tightened around him and moaned his name, it was too much. He released, deep inside the warmth of your body. You could feel yourself getting filled, bred to the brim with his cum beginning to leak out of you. He pulled out, leaning back to gaze into your eyes. His gaze was gentle, almost loving. Maybe this is what he needed, a companion. After 23 years, it felt nice to just hold somebody. To you, it felt nice to be held.

You both knew this was not going to be a one time thing.

"SPY, COME IN. HAVE YOU PENETRATED THE DEFENSES, YET? OVER." The voice of the BLU Soldier rang out over Spy's watch. He groaned, rolling his eyes before raising it to respond.

"I've penetrated something, oui," he winked at you, taking his other hand and combing his hair to slick back down. He got dressed, pulling the mask back on as the final touch. He left a quick kiss on your forehead, before clicking something on his watch. He nodded his head at you, standing at the exit. "Until again, mon ange."

You watched as he ran off down the hall, disappearing into a cloud of smoke. You shook your head, amused.

As you slid your shirt back on, finally fully dressed, the weight of what had happened had hit you. He was still the BLU Spy. You whipped your head back to the table, eyes widening as you noticed that your team's briefcase was now missing. Your jaw dropped and all you could do was stand there as the Administrator's voice rang through the base, disappointment evident.

"You've failed! The enemy has secured our intelligence."

Damn Spys.

#tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 x reader #tf2 fandom #spy tf2 x reader #tf2 spy #tf2 spy x reader #spy tf2 #spy

[thelampisaflashlight]

A Nightlight For Your Pride

[Lamb meets the usually confident Swiss in a time of weakness and doubt. Short read, but a wholesome one.] Below the cut.

"You're just... not really my type."

It shouldn't bother him, Swiss knows.

Most of the time he can let that sort of thing slide, cause, shit, if he was everyone's type he'd be up to his ears in warm bodies to cuddle, but he thought...

Swiss thumps the back of his head against the stone wall behind him, running a hand down his face as the other fiddles with the cigarette pinched between his fingers, unlit.

"I'm sorry if I led you on, that wasn't my intention."

He really thought...

"I don't mind hooking up, but dating's a no."

He was so fucking embarrassed.

"No, it's, it's fine." He'd said, "No worries."

Fine.

No worries.

"Dammit..." Swiss groans, sinking down into a squat.

He'd kind of walked off after that, after saying it was fine, and just... kept going.

Honestly, Swiss had only meant to take a short walk to clear his head, but now he's here; The old chapel on the other side of the woods past the lake.

It's a place he's maybe been once or twice before, but never alone, and certainly not this late in the afternoon.

"Haahhh... Man, why am I so hung up on this?" he mutters to himself, rummaging through his pockets for his lighter, "I didn't even like her that much, I just..."

What had he been thinking?

"Stupid."

They just got back from tour, he should be celebrating, not getting hung up over some girl.

Some pretty, smart, talented girl, who made his stomach feel all wiggly...

"We can still be friends though."

Swiss lets the cigarette hang in his mouth and go to ash.

"I don't think... that's possible." he mumbles, then asks the air, "Do you?"

"I have... no idea." a voice from somewhere above his head has Swiss scrambling away from the wall.

"Who's there?!" he shouts, panicked, "Who-"

"The nightshift." says a little ghoul as they hang over the top of the wall, horns glowing bright green in the fading light, "I did not mean to startle you, but there was not a good time to announce my presence."

"The nightsh-Oh. Oh, shit! How late is it?" Swiss asks, patting himself down for his phone, but coming up empty, "Shit..."

The ghoul on the wall slinks down and crouches on the ground in a very froglike pose, reaching into a pouch around their waist and withdrawing Swiss' phone from it, holding it out to him carefully.

"You dropped this by the lake."

"You've been, uh, you've been following me that long?" Swiss chuckles nervously, wondering how he hadn't noticed them before taking his phone back, "You... you could have said something sooner."

"Mn, you did not seem like you wanted to be bothered." the ghoul replies, long, pale tail sweeping through the leaves on the ground, the eerie glow coming off the spade casting yet more of that strange green light, "Normally, I would not follow someone so far. I do not like wandering too much, but it will be getting dark soon."

"Wait..." Swiss stares at the ghoul for a moment, tilting his head, "Wait, do I know you?"

"I do not think so?" they reply, mirroring the tilt, "You do not look familiar to me."

"No, no, I..."

Swiss bites the inside of his cheek, thinking back on a conversation he'd had with Dew ages ago now...

What was...

“There’s only one other ghoul from that incident that’s still in residence here, but they live in the dorms with the human clergy, and they’re honestly kind of weird.”

“How so?”

“Walks on all fours all the time, glows in the dark like a radioactive sleep paralysis demon, dislikes other ghouls …except for fucking Aeth for some reason…”

“Why do you sound so bitter about that, hm~?”

"You're... Satanas I never did learn your name, but, I heard about you from a friend." he says finally, "You live with the clergy, right?"

The ghoul nods.

"I did not know whether or not I should be worried that people speak of me." they muse, "Or flattered."

Radioactive sleep paralysis demon...

"Ehn, it's subjective..." Swiss lands on, "So you are...?"

"Lamb."

"Lamb, okay. Uh, I'm Swiss." he says, offering his hand to them, "Nice to meet you."

"Swiss like the cheese, or Swiss like the country?" Lamb asks, giving Swiss' hand a gentle pat instead of shaking it.

"Oh, it's, I guess like the country kind, but it's more like, Swiss Army Knife, 'cause I'm a multi-"

...dislikes other ghouls...

Swiss pauses, biting his lip.

"-talented individual." he grins, "So, Lamb, um, care to escort me back to the abbey? Since it looks like the sun's going to set soon, and, ya know, can't see very well in the dark."

Lamb nods.

"Stay close then."

The walk back to the abbey is cathartic if nothing else.

Watching Lamb weave through the tall grass on all fours is silly, but something about the way they pause and wait for him to catch up, or look back at him, or warn him of dips in the path makes Swiss' chest feel warm.

"...Possibly rude question, but... why do you walk like this?" Swiss asks as they make their way round the lake, which Lamb stops at to lap at the water there like some kind of predator mammal taking a break from the hunt to hydrate, "Is it comfortable?"

Lamb peers back at him and hums.

"It's not particularly uncomfortable." they say, moving back into a seated position, "Feels safer."

"Safer?"

Lamb shrugs, then raises up, albeit not very high, standing at their full height.

They're really quite small, maybe around Aurora's height, possibly a smidge taller, but it's hard to tell without the ghoulette around to compare them to.

"I wasn't saying that to make you feel like you needed to stand up-" Swiss frets.

The ghoul gives him a confused look and carries on walking towards the abbey, their tail flicking through the grass, now brighter than before.

"Why..." Swiss starts, but cuts himself off.

"You can ask questions." Lamb tells him, as if sensing his hesitation, their tone shifting to a gentler one that puts Swiss strangely at ease, "I don't mind."

Swiss considers this, catching up to walk beside them.

"Why does your tail... glow?"

Man, he sounds like a little kid.

"I don't really know." Lamb admits, "But Omega said it's not hazardous or really... uh, toxic or anything of the sort. Although, I would not touch it."

"Why not?"

Yeup, little kid.

"It can get on your skin and stain it."

Swiss blinks.

"Really?"

And just like that, he's reaching out and-

"...Hey, Aeth, do we have any of the good dish soap?"

His hands keep that unnatural glow for two whole hours despite Aether almost scrubbing off a full layer of Swiss' skin, but it fades eventually.

And when it does?

He misses it.

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #ghost band oc #nameless ghoul oc

[untoldreader]

Awakening in Westview

Summary

The reader wakes up in the mysterious town of Westview, unaware of how they got there or what is happening.

Warnings

None?

Tag List

@alexawynters

I woke up with a pounding headache, disoriented and unsure of my surroundings. Blinking my eyes open, I found myself in a quaint bedroom, the walls adorned with faded floral wallpaper. The room felt oddly familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time. Confusion washed over me as I tried to remember how I ended up here.

As I sat up, a rush of memories flooded my mind. I remembered stumbling upon something peculiar, an anomaly that drew me in. And then... darkness. That was all I could recall. The gap in my memory left me with an unsettling feeling, as if a part of me had been erased.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my gaze falling upon a photo frame resting on the nightstand. It held a picture of a happy family, a woman with striking dark hair and piercing eyes, and two young boys who seemed full of life. But something felt off about the photograph, as if it was out of place. I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that I didn't belong in this picture-perfect scene.

Curiosity and a hint of unease propelled me forward. I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, where I was met with a sight that sent shivers down my spine. The walls were lined with more photographs, capturing moments of joy, but there was a haunting emptiness to them. There were no faces, just blurred shapes where people should have been. It was as if the memories attached to these pictures had been erased, leaving behind an eerie void.

I continued down the hallway, my footsteps echoing in the silence. The house seemed frozen in time, caught in a strange stillness. The air was heavy with an inexplicable energy, a sense that something was amiss. I pushed open the front door, hoping to find answers outside, only to be greeted by an unexpected scene.

Before me stretched a picturesque town, reminiscent of a bygone era. The streets were lined with charming shops, their facades filled with vibrant colors and inviting displays. The townsfolk went about their daily routines with smiles plastered on their faces, but there was something unsettling about their demeanor, an artificial cheerfulness that didn't quite ring true. It was as if they were trapped in a perpetual state of bliss, their actions dictated by an unseen force.

I approached a passerby, a woman with a vacant expression. "Excuse me," I began tentatively, "where am I? How did I get here?"

She turned towards me, her eyes lacking any hint of recognition. "Welcome to Westview, dear," she replied with a robotic smile. "You've always been here."

The response sent a chill down my spine. Always been here? What did she mean? Questions swirled in my mind, but before I could gather my thoughts, a voice called out from behind me.

"Is everything alright?"

I turned to find a woman standing there, her crimson hair flowing gently in the breeze. There was a sense of power and mystery emanating from her, and her eyes held a depth that seemed to see through my very soul.

"I... I don't know," I stammered, feeling a strange connection to her. "I woke up here, and I can't remember how I got here or who I am."

The woman's gaze softened, and she extended a hand towards me. "My name is Wanda. Let's figure this out together."

Relief washed over me as I grasped her hand, a glimmer of hope igniting within me. Maybe, just maybe, with Wanda's help, I could unravel the mysteries of Westview and find my way back home.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Little did I know that this encounter with the enigmatic Scarlet Witch would plunge me into a world of magic, illusions, and a possession that would test the limits of my own strength and identity. As we embarked on this journey, I couldn't help but wonder: What secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of Westview? And why did it seem like Wanda was in control of this town, bending reality to her will? Only time would tell, as we delved deeper into the enigma that was Westview and its bewitching witch.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #The Witch & Her Possession

[belowbun]

Did I make you jump?

synopsis: You didn't really notice the weird things that happened in your house when you were bussy. One day your power got turned off, and it wasnt your landlord. strange.

paring: ghost!Sunoo X fem!reader

contains: conversations wth the dead.

masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You didn't notice it at first. The doors that were left open after you closed them, your phone that was never right where you left it, how your sink would run without you turning it on. The stress of school and work was always to much for you to notice.

But why shuld you notice? The fact that you didn't have to open doors when stressing about not finding your phone and wondering why and when you tuned the tap on. But it was never enough for you to start questioning it.

But slowly as school started stressing less, you started to slowly notice things little by little.

You strated to notice how the clothes you had put away the night before, was still folded on the chair in the livingroom. You started to notice how your chargers always got unplugged when you returned to your devices. And you noticed how the wind went though your house in a way that made it sound like someone was whistling around in you home. Someone that wasn't you, someone you didn't know, someone that made you feel threatened in your own home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

When your power was cut, you thought it was a mistake. Because you were sure you had paid the bills. Had you paid the bills?

"Shuld of paid your bills"

You frose. Who said that? you looked aroud finding nothing but your oh so familiar furniture. Were you imagining it all? Was the stress from school and work to much for your brain to function? Whatever, you thought.

You looked though your messages and yeah, you did pay your bills. So why was your power off? You decided to find the powerbox, but made sure to walk with caution. Because since the landlord wasn't the one to cut your power. someone else had to do it through the only other box, the box inside your home.

You weren't quite sure where the powerbox was, since you only moved in recently. Looking around corners and doors to make sure there was no one standing there. But even though you culdn't see anyone, you still felt the pressens of someone else in the room with you.

"Who are we looking for?"

You screamed LOUD. Turning left and right trying to find the person talking. "Whos there?!" finding no one only made your heart beat faster.

"What are you screaming for?!" screamed a voice back to you.

Turning around, you saw the person talking. It was a guy with short pink hair. Looked pale, almost too pale, like he was really really sick. "Who are you?" You asked, slowly moving away from the man. "I'm Sunoo!" He answerd with a big smile. "Why are you in my house, Sunoo?" Still backing away, you tried to find a way out of the room. "I live here silly!" His smile started to turn a bit eerie. "I have to live here in order to stay on earth, if not then they'll send me back". "Back where?". "Heaven" He said with a shrug.

What? Why was there a man in your house, and why did he say he came from heaven? "What do you mean your from heaven?". "Don't you get it? I'm dead you idiot, I have to haunt for a living". Haunt? So was he the one that moved stuff and made lfe just a bit less liveble?

"Are you the one messing with my stuff?". He started laughing. "WHO else?" He answerd, still laughing. "But what are you looking for enyway? You've been walking around in this house looking around corners for ages" He said, rolling his eyes. "I've been looking for the powerbox YOU turned off" You said, starting to look for the box again. "Oh yeah that. Wait a moment yeah?" He said, waking through a wall.

The power turned back on only a few moments after he had dissapeared. "In the livingroom!". Walking to the living room , you found Sunoo sitting in your couch. "Can we talk about this?" sitting down on the other end of the couch. "About what?", " About the fact that your 'haunting' my home?" "Yeah yeah sure ask away"

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After talking to sunoo for a wile, you realised that you had more in comon than not. And even though 'finding out your house was haunted' wasn't on your list of things you were scared of when movin into the big city. It didn't seam too bad, atleast yout did have a friend to talk with when you were alone now.

It wasn't perfect, but it made city life a tad bit better.

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

What ya'll think? Also please give wishes for stories (I'm lowkey out of ideas)

#enhypen #belowbun #sunoo #sunoo enhypen #kpop