#it jolts you into a state of manic confusion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckysbabygorl · 3 years

Text

Writer’s Block

Summary: Friends help each other out, that’s just how it is. Steve doesn’t bat an eye at his and Y/N’s behaviour, but insights from Sharon make Steve rethink things between them.

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, dumbasses Bucky and Sam, an extremely chaotic turn of events

“Steve!”

Sharon nearly spilled her beer as she jumped at the voice, surprised to hear it so loudly after Y/N had been holed up in her room for days.

Steve turned nonchalantly at this voice; used to the chaotic out bursts. “Yeah?”

The young woman trotted in, dishevelled and tired but manic looking.

“I need your shirt, I’m on to something here--”

Steve stood without hesitation; as if he’d done this thousands of times before. And he had.

“On it,” he said, pulling the garment off with one hand and tossing it in her direction.

She caught it with ease, not even taking in his shirtless state as if she’d seen it a thousand times before. And she had.

Sharon however had never seen this interaction before, and stared in awe at the two’s casual exchange.

As Y/N rushed out of the lounge and back to her room, Sharon couldn’t help but gawk.

“What the hell was that?” She asked, amused.

“What?” Steve asked, now shirtless on the couch, “Oh--she’s writing.”

He sipped his beer after his statement, and Sharon was surprised at how he expected that to answer her question.

“I’m sorry?” She said confused.

He leaned further back into the couch, getting comfy. “She’s writing--she needs my shirt when she writes.”

Sharon laughed; “Why’s that?”

Finishing off the last of his bottle, he set it down on the floor as he spoke; “She says it helps her write when she gets stuck--it’s a weird process but…” he shrugged as he grabbed a new bottle.

“How romantic.” Sharon teased, sipping her own beer.

He smiled awkwardly; flustered at where the conversation was going, “Come on--” “What? We’re friends, we can talk about this stuff.” She said.

He gave her a look, “Can we?”

She shook her head at his prudence, taking another swig.

“Yes,” she said, “It’s not like we were married. We kissed like--twice, plus you’re not exactly my type anymore…”

Steve chuckled, “Oh right--how is Maria, by the way?”

“Don’t change the subject,” she said, pointing a finger in his direction, “I want to hear more about this process.”

“It’s no big deal, it’s just…” He thought, choosing his words carefully to not give Sharon any more material to tease him with, “Helping out a friend.”

“Bullshit.” She said. He cracked open the bottle with his hand, avoiding response.

It was a touchy subject around the compound; his and Y/N’s very… intimate relationship. They were friends, coworkers they’d say. At least on the surface. But it couldn’t be missed how quickly he fell in line for her; and how her first instinct with anything and everything was to go to Rogers. They refused to go on missions without the other; they were touchy, they were jokey, if you found one the other was always in close proximity. Hell, the team was surprised they weren't sharing a room yet. But apparently, for some unknown reason, they told everyone and themselves they were just friends.

Sharon looked at him, deadpan. “Steve.”

He looked back to her in playful annoyance. “What?”

She slapped her thigh with her free hand, finishing off her drink. “Come on, let’s get into this.”

He sighed, “I don’t know what to tell you--she doesn’t see me that way.”

She jumped on his choice of words immediately, “She doesn’t?”

The implication being, of course, that she didn’t but he did.

Flustered, he waved a hand at her. “No, no, no--that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not not what you meant.” She countered, “You like her.”

“Shut up,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“That’s not a no.” She hummed as she thought of another point; “And what’s she need your shirt for anyway? That’s cute as hell.”

He sighed again, “Well--it helps her… get in the mindset.”

“Pardon?” she asked at his cryptic explanation. “‘Mindset’?”

He didn’t want to admit the reason, running a hand over his face, flustered.

He bit his thumb, his voice coming out muffled as he spoke. “Well, she writes about… characters… in romantic settings, so--”

He spoke, drawing out his words, “She needs inspiration, for those kinds of scenes.”

“Dude, EW!” She said, way too much information coming her way for being this sober, “I don’t wanna hear that.”

“NO,” he defended, “Not in a weird way. But like--if the guy gives the girl his shirt, or he picks her up or something, I dunno, but like--she’s very sensory. So the shirt helps with getting into the moment. She can put herself in the character’s shoes, if that makes sense.”

Sharon’s eyes went wide as she cracked open a bottle for herself, “Well I don’t know how you’re not using that to your advantage.”

Steve did a double take, “Elaborate.”

She laughed through her nose, “Well, if I were in your place--”

“--Hey.” He warned.

She raised her hands in defense, “I’m just saying, you could be giving her a hell of a lot more inspiration than your shirt and your cologne.”

“You think she likes my cologne?” He asked.

“Steve, you’re a grown man. In fact you’re an old man, figure it out for yourself.”

They sat in silence as Sharon waited for Steve to ponder this.

He jolted upright as if having an epiphany; “you don’t think--”

“--really? Are you fucking kidding me?”

She laughed at his blushing cheeks, he ran a hand through his hair cursing under his breath.

“So what now?”

“Oh my god--” Sharon said through gritted teeth, “Go give her inspiration. I swear you’d never get laid if I wasn’t around.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Steve joked.

“Hey,” She said, kicking his shin lightly.

He laughed, “Hey, we’re friends, we can talk about this.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Are you gonna go in there or what?”

“Like--now?”

“Yes! You dumbass, go get your girl. I can wait, I can handle myself.” She sipped her beer as if giving an example, and patiently waited for Steve to go.

Hesitantly, Steve rose from his spot, wiping his hands along his jeans nervously. He was stalling, evidently so. Was he really gonna do this? He didn’t know what was lying on the other side of that door, metaphorically speaking. He knew she was likely frantically typing away, thinking out loud, and egging herself on. How could he even begin to approach that? The man didn’t have any moves; hell, the last time he’d kissed a girl was Sharon, and that was ages ago.

He was frozen in place; glancing back and forth between the hallway and the woman in front of him. What the fuck was he gonna do?

“What are you doing? Warming up? Just go.” Sharon complained.

Steve sighed, throwing his head back in annoyance, “Fine,” he exclaimed, “But if this goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Fine, fine, whatever, I take the blame. Just do something already.”

Fed up with her pestering, Steve forced himself to leave the room.

Okay Rogers, you got this.

As he hunkered down the hall, moving quickly before he could change his mind, Rogers continued to silently hype himself up.

You--you’re captain america. You. Are. America’s. Ass. You’re already shirtless, and that’s half the battle won.

But as he found himself in front of Y/N’s door; all his false surety had disappeared.

Steve groaned to himself, “Oh my god, what am I doing?”

“What are you doing?”

The voice of his friend made Steve jump, as he realized he wasn’t alone.

Bucky and Sam approached him from the other end of the hall.

“Steve, where’s your shirt?” Bucky asked, equally as confused as Sam. They then realized who’s door he was in front of, and immediately lit up.

“Whoa, are you coming or going Rogers?” Sam asked, assuming illicit activities were taking place.

Steve pursed his lip, looking back to the door in front of him. “Coming, at least trying to.”

“Seriously? You’re actually making a move? I never thought I’d see the day--” Bucky said.

“--Proud of you buddy, we didn’t think you’d ever go for it.” Sam added.

“Wh--” Steve stuttered, looking between the two, in both shock and embarrassment. “Does everyone know how I feel?”

“About Y/N? Uh--yeah.” Sam said.

“Come on Steve, you’re not exactly the most subtle when it comes to feelings.” Bucky explained, “You’re always together..”

Sam added on, “...whenever you’re not, you’re depressed…”

Bucky nodded, “You remember her birthday, she remembers yours--”

“--Wait, do you guys not know my birthday?” Steve asked.

The two friends shared a look, squinting as they pondered how to break the news that; no, they didn’t.

“July?” Sam asked.

“I know you’re a Leo,” Bucky said, as if that would suffice for an answer.

“Oh my god,” Steve said, “It’s July first.”

“We’re getting off track,” Sam said, “What exactly is your game plan here?”

Steve put his hands on his hips, shifting his weight to face away from her room, “Honestly, I have no idea.”

“Well lucky for you,” Bucky stated, confidence in his tone, “We’re here to help.”

Steve looked at him, disbelieving, but also slightly intrigued. “Oh yeah?” He asked, half jokingly. At this point, he’d take all the help he could get.

“Yeah,” Sam spoke, nearly offended that Rogers could ever doubt the Wilson charm. And whatever the hell Bucky thought he had going for him.

“Just go in there and be cool, flex a little, maybe be a little dismissive.” Sam said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky agreed, eagerly, “And like--act like she wanted you there.”

Sam snapped his fingers, “Exactly, make her come to you.”

Bucky and Sam stood, satisfied with themselves, as Steve stared slack jawed at the men in his presence.

“You guys are idiots, how have you ever gotten laid?” He asked.

Immediately the two jumped to their defense. As the three soldiers’ argument increased in both intensity and volume, they didn’t realize they’d attracted the attention of the woman on the other side of the door.

Y/N huffed as the sound penetrated her walls, snapping her laptop shut as she rose and charged to her door. Whipping it open, she startled the men in front of her.

Bucky screamed and nearly knocked Sam over, while Steve stared at her like a deer in headlights.

“Will you guys shut up, I’m trying to--” Her face lit up with a sudden epiphany, “Steve! Get in here.”

Before any of them could react, or argue, the young woman had grabbed Steve’s arm, and with surprising strength, pulled him into her room. The door slammed shut in Bucky and Sam’s faces, leaving them as dumbfounded as ever. They scrambled to press their ears against the door, not wanting to miss a second of whatever was going to happen next.

“Thank god you’re here, I need your help--”

Steve stood panicked in her doorway, unsure of what to do. She started pacing around the room, dramatically gesturing to further elaborate whatever point she was trying to make; which was completely lost on Steve. This was classic Y/N behavior; off on her own tangent and assuming Steve was with her every step of the way. Usually, he was, but this time he was too caught up in the ideas that Sharon, Bucky and Sam had put in his head.

Fuck, what did they say to do? Uh--flex. Damn it, what do I do with my body? What do I do with my hands?

Steve tried to control his expression; aiming for stoicism, cool, as Wilson described it. With his awkward smoulder, Steve moved to lean against the wall in a flattering way. He flexed, or tried to, as he braced himself in the most horrible attempt at casual standing.

He looked around the room; trying to be nonchalant while Y/N continued.

“So,” She said, “What do you think?”

“Uh--yeah, sure. Cool, whatever.” He said.

Dismissive, got it.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she took in his stance, gesturing a hand to the wall he was placed against.

“Uh… what are you doing?” She asked.

Immediately embarrassed at whatever the hell that was, Steve stood upright.

“Nothing, nevermind,” He said in an attempt to brush off his previous actions, “What were you saying?”

She groaned, “Just get over here.”

She manhandled him, pulling him to the centre of the room, closely in front of her.

“Okay,” she said, “Try it.”

“Try what?” He asked.

“Try to kiss me!” She said.

He pushed her hands off his arms, “What?!”

She laughed stupidly, “You don’t have to actually do it. I just need to get a feel for the motion of it.”

She went to take a step forward, her arms getting ready to wrap around his shoulders. Steve took a step back and raised his hands in fear.

“What motion? What are you talking about?” Steve sputtered.

“Oh my god, were you even listening?” She teased, reaching for his forearms to pull him back. God was she strong. Or was Steve just oddly willing?

“Chris is about to kiss Hailey, or try to anyway. Sebastian and Anthony just talked to him and he’s finally gonna do it. Your shirt was working for awhile but now I’m getting stuck again. So--try to put yourself in that position. You just realized you’re in love with your best friend and you’re really gonna go for it. Act it out if it helps.”

Steve felt like he was going to throw up, lord help me.

“Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea--”

“Come on,” she ushered, “It’s just me.”

“Exactly.” He said.

She shook her head at his ridiculousness, not aware of the real sentiment behind his words.

“Please? Do it for me.” She begged.

He looked down to the hands wrapped around his forearms; this felt like cheating. It wasn’t supposed to go like this; using the incredibly odd and specific scenario she’d laid out for him. It was hitting too close to home; how could he use this as a scapegoat to get what he wanted? Confessing his feelings and holding her in a way he’d wanted to for so long… the guilt overcame him.

But as he looked back into her eyes, as she was pleading for him to do this for her, he knew he couldn’t say no.

“Alright--can you just, can you close your eyes? It’s freaking me out.” He said.

She nodded eagerly, closing her eyes at his request.

He sighed, I guess it’s now or never.

He slipped his arms from her grip, and gingerly took her hands in his. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles, and resisted the urge to pull her closer. To press a kiss along every delicate finger in his grasp, to take her immediately how he wanted to. He inhaled, he exhaled, he had to pace himself.

“Okay,” He whispered, readying himself for what he was about to do.

“I want you, I’ve wanted you for so long that it’s driving me crazy. I--I don’t how to do this; how to do this right but I have to do this now because I know if I don’t I never will.”

He laughed at himself; the romantic honesty of it all.

“I’m crazy about you; I can’t get enough of you.”

He let his hands glide down to her wrists, bringing her to his chest and placing her hands on his shoulders. His hands fell to wrap around her waist, drifting his fingers along the shirt that he knew was his, revelling in the fact that she was in his clothing, and in some indescribable way, in his possession.

She was lost in the low timbre of his voice, completely consumed by his words. It sounded so real.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asked, breathlessly in her ear. “I could just…”

He allowed himself to trail off, lips ghosting just over hers, taking in all the beautiful features of her face that he’d admired countless times before.

This was it; this was the moment he’d been praying for.

She broke into a smile, opening her eyes and playfully squealing.

“That was perfect!” She said, not moving from her position. “That was so good, how’d you think--”

He didn’t let her finish.

Words couldn’t describe how good her lips felt on his; how intoxicating the feeling of her bare skin was in the palms of his hands.

He clutched her tightly as he kissed her; gripping the soft flesh of her waist in a desperate hold to keep this moment as long as possible. Indulging himself in her taste, her touch.

His tongue trailed gently along her bottom lip before gently taking it between his teeth.

She gasped softly as he deepened the kiss, her hands instinctively wrapping in his blond locks.

As she tugged at his hair, eliciting a groan from Steve, he shifted his hands down to her hips and pulled her taught against him.

Her hand moved to cup his chin, lightly scraping the stubble with her finger tips. She moaned as the action made Steve’s fingers dig into the skin of her back. She arched her chest at the feeling of the possessive hold.

Why the hell hadn’t they been doing this the whole time?

She pulled back from his kiss, trying to catch her breath. Steve couldn’t read the look in her eyes; a mix of shock and confusion, and another emotion he wasn’t sure he’d seen before.

She tried to clear her mind as her hands shifted to rest on his chest; she felt his heartbeat pounding with the rise and fall of his own breath.

“Get on the bed.” She demanded.

Steve’s eyes widened at the command, stupidly ogling her as her hands moved to remove her--his shirt.

“What about your story?” He asked her.

She chuckled lightly at his naivety, reaching out to grip his biceps and pull him towards her.

In one quick motion, she pulled them on to her mattress. Steve reached out his hands to brace his fall, hovering above her.

With a lustful glint in her eye, she smiled.

“Fuck the story. We’ve got better things to do.”

“Sam we have to go,” Bucky said, “They’re gonna start fucking and I don’t wanna be around for that.”

Tags: @babyblue-07 @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @lonewolf471 @babybluereads @marianas-studyblr @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms

#marvel #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader

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pseudonympls · 2 years

Text

Revelation

rev·e·la·tion

1. a surprising and previously unknown fact that has been disclosed to others.

2. the divine or supernatural disclosure to humans of something relating to human existence.

Part two of Moth To a Flame

Rating: Explicit

Bo Burnham x AFAB Reader.

PLEASE read the tags on this one, stay safe!

Non con. Dubious consent. Extremely dubious consent. Dead dove: do not eat. Blood. Stockholm syndrome. Cults. Breeding. Drug use. alcohol use. Mentions of hard drug abuse. Themes of addiction. Suicidal ideation. Roofies/rohypnol/date rape drug. Knife use, cutting. Praise kink. Apocalypse. Antichrist. Pregnancy.

Word count: 8.8k

* * *

You were certain you were not alright. As you swam in the inky blackness, your limbs feeling like rocks, you opened your eyes to the slight hubbub around you, the quiet sound piercing your wearied eardrums.

Your head felt like it was splitting open, dim light had the strength of the sun in your weakened state. You heard a moan leave your lips, the hollows behind your eyes ached as if someone had used your face as a punching bag. As sensation returned you felt your entire body twinged with unknown pains.

“She awakens” you heard, and hushed mutters followed it like echoes. You tried to bring your hand to your head, to cradle the pain into your fingers, but you felt something strong holding your right arm back. You tried with your left, the same feeling prevented you from moving - steady panic filled your stomach as you struggled against the restraints.

“There there” a familiar voice boomed - close to your left ear. You struggled to keep your breathing even, your eyes refused to focus, all you saw was a pale mass in front of you, flickering in the light.

“You’re going to be alright, you just…drank a little too much wine” the voice sneered, and you heard a small mass of hushed laughter from the other side of the room.

Your stomach turned as your eyes pulled focus, softly coming into the foreground was…it couldn’t be…Bo.

Soft, gentle blue eyes moved over you as you finally saw him - his expression a little concerned, a little happy, your nervous system jolted at seeing him, an unfortunate side effect. All of a sudden other sensations bled into your peripheral - the room was humid, the atmosphere dense with a thick heat.

A gorgeous burgundy velvet dress hung down off your torso - ending just beneath your calves. Wiggling slightly you realised that your ankles were also bound to something - feeling your thighs rub together you felt the frilled edge of your panties underneath the dress, your heart stuttered at the realisation.

“Bo…what’s going on?” you turned to look at him, he was still a faint blur, but you could tell a smile never left his lips.

“Shhh, everything’s going to be alright,” he soothed, but it only felt menacing given the situation.

“No, why am I,” you glanced down at yourself, then to the opposite side of the room, seeing tall candelabras hosting glowing flames, and beyond them, a group of around twenty cloaked individuals. Hidden from you by lack of light.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the haze of confusion gradually lifted. “Fuck” you whispered. “Please, Bo, help me out of these” you wiggled your limbs again in a weak but desperate attempt to break free - but they felt leadened, your head gave a warning throb at the exertion.

“Ahh” you cried, feeling weakened by even attempting to move.

“Oh no no, no.” you saw Bo out of the corner of your eye, moving closer to you “Why would I do that?” his tone had a venom to it, and your blood ran cold. Your adrenaline spiked, despite his presence before this being only benign and comforting.

Your breathing laboured, you lifted your head to see him standing right in front of you, a terrifying manic expression on his face, the intent in his eyes unreadable as he brought a large hand to your face.

“P-please” you begged, tears began to fill your eyes “Let me go” you whispered, leaning into his hand, praying for some mercy from the man you thought you knew.

Bo shook his head, a tight lipped smile on his face. “Now now, where would you go if I let you leave, hmm?”

“I-I promise I won’t tell anyone, I’ll just go straight home, you’ll never see me again” you stuttered “I…I promise!” your voice trailed off as your temple throbbed another warning.

“Yeah, I can’t take your word for that - what would stop you going to the police, telling them about our little set up here? I can’t take that chance” his expression solemn, he traversed the space in front of you. “Besides” he clicks his tongue “Never see you again? Oh but darling, that would be the last thing I ever wanted”

“Please, Bo.” you weakly struggled at the restraints again “I thought you liked me” you whimpered, he faced you with eyebrows raised, head tilted to the side. He scoffed through pursed lips, walking closer to you.

“Honey” he whispered, brushing your cheek with his hand, the contact burned.“I do like you, a lot.” He glanced back to the black mass of people standing in the corner. “That’s why I had to do this, you were chosen”

His words felt like liquid smoke, acrid, filling your lungs, asphyxiating you from the inside, you tried your best to shrink away from his grasp, but your restraints stifled any movement. “Chosen for what” - your stomach lurched with anxiety, and you wondered if you might throw up. Your head swam with the possibilities. Was he going to kill you? Was this some kind of…sacrifice?

“You were chosen to be mine, sweetheart” he whispered, walking away from you and snapping his fingers - prompting the swell of shadowed people in the far corner to move toward you, the clothes they wore wavering like a body of water, their current heading straight towards you.

The black mass was upon you, slowly moving you out the room. Their hoods hung so low that you couldn’t pick out any discernible features, but there were easily twenty, maybe thirty of them in total. You whimpered weakly against the restraints, searching for a hint of humanity among the horde, but there was nothing but the steady movement of the tide.

You noticed the lack of windows in the snug corridors they took you down, white walls, with nothing abnormal or distinguishing about them, it sent an eerie chill down your spine, how very clinical it all seemed.

You were brought into a room - and your stomach dropped when you saw the large bed standing in the centre of it, with a thick silk comforter spread over it and a curved black metal bed frame. A dresser was pushed up against the far wall and another door stood next to it.

A shallow hope bloomed as you thought maybe that door would lead out of here - but you doubted it.

The people in black cloaks hastily filtered out the room one by one, leaving you alone, struggling with depleted strength against your restraints, fear unfurled in your stomach as you tried to rationalise what was happening.

You heard the door opening and shutting behind you, and you were incapable of suppressing a shudder at hearing the door’s locking mechanism - stifling any hopes you had of escaping.

Bo came into view, a peaceful look on his face. He fiddled with the restraints on your wrists, setting you free.

You fell limp in his arms, the remnants of the drug still dripping through your veins, ever so often sending waves of nausea or ripples of dense sleepiness over you, keeping you placid.

Keeping you just the way he wanted you, you thought darkly.

Your brain hummed with resistance, you wanted to run, to hide, to get away from him - but he kept you in his warm grasp, and it was so soft yet strong, almost soothing.

He helped you to the bed, your limbs felt like lead weights, dragging your body further into the sheets, which tingled under your fingertips.

He joined you, his knees pressing dimples into the soft fabric of the comforter, momentarily pulling your hips closer to him with his weight.

You couldn’t help yourself from breathing in his luxurious scent as he leaned over you, and for a moment you almost forgot that he was securing your wrists to the black metal framed headboard - trapping you there.

Snakes writhed around in your belly, a glut of panic bubbled up behind your eyes, in your throat. You stifled your mind of thought, you couldn’t let it wander to what he was planning, it was too dark. You wanted so desperately to scream - but you knew no-one would hear you. No-one that would help, anyway.

Finally secured, he slid down your body, his fingers smoothing your hair down - trailing lazily down your face, slipping his fingers around your chin. You tried desperately to avoid his gaze, to look away from him for as long as you could - maybe then it wouldn’t be real. Maybe then, it would all be a horrible nightmare to wake up from, your consciousness pulling you swiftly away from this abject horror.

But no-one comes for you. His thick fingers pressed into your chin, tilting your face toward his, and you knew that looking into his eyes would hurt like a dagger to the chest, sharp, bloody and full of betrayal.

Scarily enough, all you saw in his baby blue’s was a deep kind of love - one you know you had yet to experience. A softness lingered behind his eyes, promising something terrible and yet gorgeous all at once.

“You look so good like this” he whispered, the words sent a chill up your spine, his fingers trailing down your neck. You stifled an inhale and it whistled through your teeth, you tried desperately to ignore any kind of sensation as his fingertips travelled lower. They brushed the skin above your breasts, and your lungs burned with the need to breathe. His eyes met yours as the breath shuddered past your lips in a hurried gasp.

He smirked and gruffly said “Relax, sweetie, it’ll feel so much better”, his fingers moved even slower down your body. Your left arm obstructed your vision, and you saw him shift a little, as he reached for something just out of sight.

Your fight or flight reflex lit up before your brain even registered the object in his hand, rippling through your body your wrists automatically pulled at your restraints - but it was no good.

The shiny blade of the knife came into your periphery first, his fingers clasped loosely - arrogantly loose - around the handle, wooden and polished to a high shine.

You gasped in fear as you saw it, the muscles in your legs aching as they readied to run - but there was nowhere to go.

“P-please, Bo, please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything, just please…” your words were an incoherent mess, slipping out your mouth without much thought, mindless begging, pure fear.

He scoffed lightly, turning the handle in his hand slowly, shaking his head. “Honey, I’m not going to kill you, god no, how could I?” The look in his eyes was hurt, offended even. “You will serve a much greater purpose, we need you, I need you…” he trailed off, angling the blade toward your stomach, instinctually you tensed up, what adrenaline was running through your fatigued muscles, gave you a little strength to kick away from him, the restraints oddly angling your body on the bed.

“Baby please” he whispered, pressing a hand into your left hip, down into the mattress, you were helpless, his full strength against your slow, drugged, heavy muscles.

A few frightened moans leaked out of your throat, and he looked up at you, a fog descending over his eyes, all too familiar - a look of lust.

He trailed the knife over your lower abdomen, paying careful attention to linger there, before taking it even lower. Even with his light pressure and the thick velvet material - you could still feel the sharp tip of the knife. A small part of you was thankful, that if he was going to kill you, maybe it would be quick - a sharp blade promised that, at least.

He brought the blade to the hem of your dress, and he pulled it through the material with barely any resistance as the knife cut through the dress like butter, his other hand still imparting pressure to your hip, not wavering for a single moment.

Fear descended over your mind, but every time you looked at him, a sleepy kind of calm trickled through you - it felt artificial, incredibly good at mimicking the real emotion - just enough to keep you from wriggling as he relieved you of the dress.

You couldn’t stop staring at him - the way honey blonde curls fell around his face in an almost perfect symmetry. The way his overly long stubble (somewhere between scruff and a beard) framed his jaw, so agonisingly sharp. The curve of his nose and the way his lip dived into the perfect cupid’s bow. You were so mesmerised by him that you didn’t realise the knife had done its job. Your breasts fall free from their confines. His teeth rested on his lower lip as he looked at you. The slightest tingle of arousal started in your lower belly - a feeling you wanted to push aside - fear flooded your veins as you watched his eyes - how they devoured you.

Thinking back to how you felt before arriving at Bo’s place - the bubbling excitement in your belly. How you had painstakingly chosen the laciest, cutest pair of panties that accentuated all your curves. How you had made it your mission to tease him. That, and going braless underneath your cami - choosing a top that was ever-so-slightly see through in the right light - seeing his eyes bashfully flit down to your chest as the evening drew on. The fire of satisfaction it lit in your stomach - knowing that he’d noticed.

Any and all excitement had been replaced by freezing cold, toxic fear that was pressing into every inch of your skin despite the room being a pleasant temperature.

“These are really cute, sweetie,” he cooed, dancing the tip of the blade over your hip bone, over the black lace that barely covered them - his hand pressing into your upper thigh now.

He tuts, and shakes his head slightly, “But, I’m afraid, they’ll have to go” he looked at you, a sly smile painting his face. You wiggled your hips a little in a desperate attempt to move away from the knife, but he only pushed into your thigh harder, anchoring you to the bed - to him.

He broke into a full smile, his gorgeous teeth stunning you as he slipped the blade of the knife between your skin and your underwear - the cool metal shocking your skin for a moment before your hot flesh warmed it.

He angled the knife upward, quickly slicing through the fabric as if it were nothing. His other hand removed the now useless scrap of fabric, shoving it deep into his jeans pocket.

“Now, there is another use for this”, his eyes glanced back at the knife, his eyebrows raised and lips pursed, almost apologetically. “But you’ve gotta trust me when I say it’s for the best.” he said, briefly setting the knife down, curling his fingers around the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head - revealing his toned stomach. Skin so pale it looked almost translucent - a darker dusting of hair meeting the waistband of his jeans. Your thighs instinctively clenched together at the sight, hating yourself for how much you enjoyed seeing him like this.

Your eyes travelled up his torso, inexplicably drawn to a strange mark on his chest - no - a series of marks. A pale pink, white edged scar lay on his right pectoral muscle, a curious circle, interlaced with several other ovals, no bigger than the palm of your hand. Your fogged mind struggled to place it at first, you thought back to where you had seen this exact combination of shapes before…and then it hit you.

You’d seen it in Bo’s house. Innocently interspersed between the other pieces of art he collected. You’d caught it only hours ago, perusing the myriad pieces in his living room. Various articles with the symbol littered the house. You remembered seeing it in his bathroom; his dining room; and the last place - his living room.

It was everywhere and nowhere all at once, burned upon your retinas, it sank into the reverie of your subconscious, like the tv on in another room - invisible but present, humming along in the background.

As he moved the scar glistened in the light, it had a glowing, iridescent quality to it - the way old scars shone in certain light, glittering almost. You were unable to pull away from it - the way you felt when you looked at his face, multiplied by one hundred, a gravitational pull toward it - toward him. It felt dream-like, delicious and a little nauseating to stare at it. You felt warm and comforted, sleepy but happy, a contented kind of terror.

A small part of your mind begged to look away, but you didn’t want to listen to her, you wanted to ignore her, and gaze upon the scar forever - to feel like this - forever.

Bo climbed over you carefully and lay on his side next to you, the scar now hidden from view. You felt an aching loss deep inside for a moment, but were swiftly brought back to the real world in a jolt.

Without realising you were pulling on the restraints, despite the soft leather binding your wrists, you were slowly creating welts in your desperation to be free of them, and Bo had noticed.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, honey, in a few minutes you’ll be begging for me to never let you go, trust me” there was an edge of malice to his voice - the same one from the chamber before, and it resonated right down to the marrow in your bones.

He sank into the bed next to you, shuffling down a little so that his head was parallel with your neck - his feet hanging languidly off the edge of the bed.

His hot breath created a wave of gooseflesh on your neck, every hair in every pore stood on end. His lips met your skin and you couldn’t help but let out a small moan as he touched you. A distinct puff of air against your neck told you he laughed lightly at your slip-up, a brief reprieve before he attacked your neck with the sweetest, hottest kisses the flesh had ever known.

Every detail down to the gentle movements of his tongue, the way he punctuated each soft kiss with a harsh bite, the bristles of his beard against your skin, created such a frenzy in your body. In your mind you knew it was wrong, but your wrists were getting lazier with each tug, and a small part of you knew he was right - he’d have you begging in no time.

Every inch of your skin was set like a live-wire, buzzing with sensitivity, burning hot. So that when his fingers inched down your body, his lips still tortuously marking up your neck, you felt every fingertip, every flex of every finger, and you knew just where they were headed.

You wished for it.

His fingers pushed apart your thighs with little resistance, his lips had already worn you down by now, quashed your resolve. He dipped a finger inside and his lips vibrated lowly against you as he felt just how wet you’d become. A dense pool of arousal had collected between your legs - held back only by the dam of your folds.

Your heart was beating fast, every muscle in your body wanted to fight, wanted to run, but you were subdued by the way he was touching you, the way his fingers explored you. You ached beneath him.

Dipping another finger in he searched for the precious bundle of nerves that he knew would bring you to ruin. Devastatingly quick he found it, your hips bucked up into his hand upon its discovery - giving its position away.

You were already starting to sweat - beads popping along your brow as he traced small circles around your clit. You’d imagined him touching you like this, the way his breath pulsed against you, you’d imagined the two of you making love - but not like this.

Not with your wrists bound, against your will, after being ferried in by a group of what you can only describe as his…his followers?

You froze. Without thinking you clamped your thighs shut, jamming his hand where it was but wishing it was anywhere but.

He shook his head and withdrew his hand slowly, “I’m disappointed, I was hoping we could have waited until after we made love for the first time…but you’ve given me no choice” he sighed, he seemed resigned - a little annoyed.

He leaned over you, his musky scent filled your nostrils again, and you caught another glimpse of the peculiar scar on his chest. A dreamy feeling of calm swept over you, a heavenly, opaque serenity overcame the fright and the skull shattering panic that you felt before.

Bo had the knife back in his hand again, toying with the handle playfully. The fear returned swiftly, the bliss ebbing away as he sat on your hips, rendering you fully immobile.

“Don’t worry, it’ll hurt for just a sec, and then…” he paused, “and then, well, all your troubles will be behind you” he smiled - A terrifying grin so wide that you could almost count all of his teeth - shining bright in the warm light of the room.

He leaned forward, his body encompassing yours as he angled his arms to aid the restraints, preventing you from flinching with his weight.

Hot, tingling panic raced through your body, intakes of breath began to burn, like the air was setting you alight from the inside. Liquid fire wrapped it’s tendrils around your windpipe, down your lungs, stifling every alveoli of precious oxygen.

“Shhh, Shh,” Bo whispered as he heard your breathing quicken. “It’s okay” he soothed, but it did nothing to quell the insectile urge to flee - but you were truly pinned to the bed, his weight preventing any movement whatsoever, trapped between the soft sheets and the sharp angles of his body.

You couldn’t see anything as he started work, but you felt it, oh you felt it. The tip of the knife slid into the soft flesh on the inside of your bicep. Your lungs, choked of breath, made a slight wheezing noise as he cut deeper. The pain was exquisite as it was consuming, feeling him deftly slice through your skin. Your brain lit up with pain as he moved, your body tensing at the intrusion. He was doing it as fast as he could, dexterity and skill, paying careful attention to the depth - and then as soon as it had started - it was over.

You felt like after you downed the wine, but without the nausea. Vision vignetting as a dizzying peacefulness moved in. A small part of you thought it was the adrenaline quieting the pain, allowing you a reprieve. But you knew it wasn't. Something sinister dripped through your veins, something altogether new. Alluring in its certainty. You pushed back with your own willpower, trying desperately to resist the silky allure of this new feeling - but was it enough?

You felt Bo’s hands on your arm as he affixed a dressing of some sort, covering the abomination he had carved into you. Your vision slowly returned, the room came back into a soft sort of focus.

You felt the mattress sink with his weight next to you - his fingers traced along your abdomen, lazy circles along your skin - it felt positively divine.

“You took that surprisingly well, honey” - the words dripped off his tongue like treacle, you didn’t even realise that you were pressing your thighs together, eager to feel some kind of friction.

“Oh, I think you’re ready, don’t you?” he whispered, his fingers trailed lazily up to your breasts, his palm brushing over your hardened nipple - eliciting a shiver that travelled down to your toes - without even thinking, you nodded.

A small, drowned part of your mind screamed “No!! Please!!” - but you ignored her, she was so much easier to brush aside, now.

“Good, oh” he paused, his words thick with lust, “oh I’m so glad” his eyes flit up to your bandaged arm, down to your eyes, and then, following his fingers, to your core.

She still had control over some aspects of your body, some lingering motor control. You felt her, pushing against the warm, fuzzy, maddening feeling that had infiltrated your being. Like a caged animal, you expected her to lash out every so often.

He parted your thighs, and his fingers found your clit once more, ruminating in generous circles. His eyes watched your face intently for changes in your expression, to monitor your breathing. Tiny ripples of pleasure fanned out from his fingers and you arched your back - you needed more.

You pulled on the restraints, a vestige from your old self, breaking through to the surface.

“You like that, huh?” he growled in your ear, picking up speed, his words creating even more waves of pleasure. “You’re so wet for me, sweetheart, do I make you feel good?” he continued. You bucked into his hand as the words dripped out of his mouth, a sly smirk curling into his lip.

You nodded quickly “You’re such a good girl for me, mmhm” He grunts as he slowly grinds into your hip. You remember the other day in your apartment as you got heated on the couch, you felt his hardness pressing up against you, thick and unmistakably large even between the layers of fabric.

You’re snatched out of your daydream as he pulls away from you, hastily undoing his button and fly, shoving his black jeans down his long legs. You felt yourself struggle against the restraints again - but this time it was to look at him.

Black boxer briefs hid underneath his jeans - now crumpled on the floor. Your belly flipped as you saw the size of the bulge in his underwear. You were overwhelmed by a sense of curiosity you’d never known - you needed to feel him. of course you had thought about him, his size, his shape - how he would feel inside of you. But now it was actually happening, you ached between your thighs, ached for him.

He hooked his fingers along the waistband of his underwear, glancing back toward you with a knowing look as he slowly slipped them down and off his legs. Your eyes bulged with surprise, as Bo chuckled lightly, grasping at his thick length with one hand. “Think you can take it?” he chided. He fell to his knees and placed one between your thighs. You felt no need to resist now, a small well of saliva had formed in front of your bottom teeth, oh my god were you…drooling at the sight of him?

The head was dark pink with desire, pulsating as he loosely pumped his fist up and down the length, absentmindedly spreading the small bead of precum that had bubbled on his slit.

He released himself to grasp your hips, tilting you up towards him. “You look so good for me” he whispered, nestled between your waiting thighs.

Again, a tiny part of you screamed from deep inside - begged you to try and wriggle free, to escape, but it was quickly overcome by the curiosity about how he would feel deep inside you, how his cock would treat you so well.

He pressed his cockhead into you, paying extra attention to your clit - rubbing quick circles with it, coating himself with your never ending supply of arousal.

He goes lower, slowly pushing into you, and you couldn’t help but release a small yelp as the thickness of his head popped inside. He groaned throatily, looking up at you and back down at where you met. He needed a clear view and pushed the hair out of his face slowly, savouring how you looked around him.

“Fuck” Bo snarled, stopping momantarily. “You feel so good,” he bit his lip, and pushed all the way in, the stretch nearly knocked the wind out of you and you pressed your head back into the silk pillowcase, trying desperately to adjust to his size. He was pressing into all your corners and you felt dangerously stuffed to the brim with him. You felt yourself pulse around him, the way a wound hums as the blood rushes to the area desperately trying to fix the seeping injury.

He picked up a slow and steady rhythm, shallow thrusts at first, punctuated by longer, deeper ones that you can’t stifle a moan at.

The fullness was so overwhelming, but nothing compared to what happened next. You finally looked down at him, his lithe frame bringing you to him and pushing you away in a neat rhythm, fingers folding around the curve of your hip deliciously. You drank in every detail: the way hair fell into his eyes with each thrust; the dip in the skin above his sternum; the way the hair below his belly button got darker and thicker leading down to his cock; the way it looked buried inside of you.

But something else caught your eye, something altogether hotter than any encounter you’d ever had. Your eyes were drawn to your lower belly, just above your pubic bone. The skin moved and distended with each glorious thrust. He could not be contained, visible to the outside, as he pressed into you so beautifully.

Tiny shocks of pleasure fizzled around your brain at seeing him jut out of your body like this.

“B-Bo” you whispered, he paused mid thrust and looked at your face, a concern written into his features.

“What is it?” he said, his voice gravelly with lust. “Look,” you whispered, glancing down to your abdomen. He followed your gaze and faltered for a second “Shit, fuck…” he used one hand to run fingers through his hair, before bringing it to the pulsating flesh beneath him. “That’s so hot” he whispered, testing a few movements, feeling himself through your distended skin.

A long moan left your lips as his palm pushed harder, the pressure both inside and out from him made you feel so deliciously overstimulated.

He groaned throatily and continued the pressure with his hand, picking up the pace hammering inside of you, the feeling so succinctly overwhelming.

As you hurtled toward your peak, you felt the edifice falling away, and the caged animal inside you begged for mercy. “P-please, don’t make me…” he almost faltered, but he knew of the struggle inside of you, the constant tug-o-war.

You’d imagined him touching you, fucking you, laying claim to your body, in the last few weeks - it had occupied your mind most of the time. But not like this - never like this.

“Don’t make you what?” he teased, actually speeding up. “Bo, please, don’t make me c…” you struggled to keep composure, your muscles tensing in the most delightful ways - readying themselves for release.

“What kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t want to please my sweet girlfriend?” he uttered, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“We’re-we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend” you hissed through clenched teeth, your brain hating but your body loving what he was doing to you.

“You’re right,” he took a deep breath “We’re so much more than that” he softly said, cupping the side of your face with his free hand.

A single tear fell from your left eye, trailing down your cheek briefly, before mapping its course down the side of your face, off to your ear.

His hand caught it, shaking his head and pursing his lips. A faint part of you thought you saw his eyes welling up, but if they did, he quickly recovered. “No no no, my love. Just give in, it’s going to feel so fucking good” as he spoke he moved against you with intensity, you felt a sickly pit form in your stomach as his lips returned to your neck, sucking and nipping at the flesh.

He increased the pressure on your abdomen and uttered an exasperated groan of pleasure. You could feel him pulsing inside you, and you needed it, you wanted it - you snapped.

“P-please, Bo” - amidst his pained expression you saw his eyebrows rise, feeling too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed you repeat yourself “P-please let me c-come” you spluttered. His expression says “I told you so” but his lips formed a soft o instead of words, sweetly refraining as he moved his hand to your clit and gladly obliged in your desperate pleas.

He leaned into you, his mouth descending on your left nipple, letting his tongue roll the pebbled tip lazily around his mouth, pausing only to suck on the pillowy flesh behind it. His fingers frantically massaged your teased bud into oblivion as your wrists struggled against the restraints.

Your brain developed a fuzz, hot, thick and paralysing as you convulsed beneath him. The first hit was so delicious your vision blacked out, and the subsequent tremors were so strong you felt your eyeballs roll so far back inside your head that you would see the white of your skull, if your brain wasn’t in the way.

Your lungs couldn’t get enough air to facilitate sufficient oxygenation of your muscles, your arms twitched listlessly above your head, your knees shivering in the dissipating pulses of your orgasm.

Faintly through the fog you saw Bo’s face - a mess of sweat and heat as he filled you - his eyes never leaving yours as his hips stuttered and shook.

His pants and shivers subsided, and Bo graciously rolled off to one side, catching you off guard as his arms came out to pull your tethered body into his - nestling his head sweetly between your breasts.

As the pulses faded, your consciousness came back to the forefront, you couldn’t deny how he’d made you feel, but something deep within your hindbrain begged to be let go - to be set free.

“Bo, please let me go, please” Bo nuzzled deeper into your chest “Go where?” he said, lifting his head up slightly, blue eyes in a daze. “My dear, you have no-one, only me,” he brought his hand to your lower abdomen, stroking it in such a way that was fatherly, doting. Chilling.

“And the child in your belly” he whispered. Your adrenaline spiked at his words, the sickening realisation of what had just happened set off a spark of anxiety. A chill that floated up your spine, across your neck, and hung oppressively behind the base of your skull, the horror.

Tears streamed from your eyes and hit the pillow too fast to be caught by him, your chest heaved in erratic bursts. He shook his head again, the sickening feeling of being pitied only made you cry harder. “No no no” he whispered.

“Honey, you’ll learn to love me,” his other hand came up to brush some errant strands of hair that had fallen in your face, swiping away a few stray tears in their wake. “I’ll be oh so sweet to you, you know that” his fingertips brushed up against your cheek, the sincerity in his words were palpable. His lips curved upward into a small smile, how could you doubt him? Even for a second? His other hand was still lovingly caressing your stomach, you felt the submerged consciousness drift into the background, and a gossamer blanket of bliss enrobe every cell in your body.

You’re not sure when but the tears eventually stopped flowing, your chest stopped heaving, and you slipped into a dreamless slumber. Still, a small part of you wished that when you awoke, this will all have been a horrible nightmare.

* * *

You were in Bo’s house once again, you trailed your fingertips along the corridor wall, your feet sank into the plush carpet, even though you had only been here once it already felt like home. Familiar. You walked through the house aimlessly, not sure what your purpose was, exactly - but you knew you needed to find him. That goal was steadfast.

You rounded the corner and saw Bo, dressed in nothing but his underwear, sprawled out on the couch, scrolling listlessly on his phone. Lying on his belly he groaned, threw his phone to the side and rolled on to his back.

Pressing his fingers through his hair - which was half the length you remember - he pushed his fingertips into his eye sockets, groaning in frustration. He looked so deeply upset, and you wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him. Do something. Anything.

You sat on the edge of the couch by his head, gingerly reaching towards him, but before you touched him everything bled together, wisps of fire and ice and stone and your vision dissolved and before you knew it, you’re watching Bo perusing a used book section.

Some fancy L.A market, the stalls around all quiet, a few masked individuals tentatively going about their daily chores.

He readjusted his mask and eyed a large stack of books, some of them looking absolutely ancient. One particular black leather bound book seemed to jump out at him. He pulled it from the stack and began to leaf through it. You recognised it immediately, it was the book you had knocked over - even now you felt the pull toward it. A magnetic draw to it physically, to touch it, and a mental urge to devour its contents.

He purchased the book and you followed him home. The city was in full lockdown, businesses were shut, very few people around - an eerie quiet hung over the city that was so well known for being a hub. You saw Bo enter his home, remove his mask and watched as he underwent a hygiene routine, scrubbing down his hands, wrists and elbows - even removing his clothes and settling into a white t-shirt and sweatpants. The fabric clung to his skinny body - even thinner than usual, almost skeletal. The hollows of his eyes were dark purple, weary with worry and isolation. You couldn’t stand seeing him like this - you walked towards him, reaching out your hand and whispering his name. He moved his head halfway towards you, like he’d heard you. But he swiftly turned back around and continued with the infinite scroll on his phone.

Next, you saw him lying in bed, naked on top of the sheets, his arms cradling the pillow. His face looked red and puffy, like he’d been crying. You couldn’t help but let your eyes peruse his body, so incredibly long that he had to lie in the bed diagonally, or his legs would flop off the end. His legs curved into a small but round behind and you spy his lower back dimples. Shaking your head you sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, eager to comfort him, but by the time your fingertips reached his shoulder - he was gone.

Bo’s hair was longer now, as he knelt in front of something in his living room. A single candle flickered beside him. He was speaking unintelligible words as you neared him, getting closer and closer. Your ears strained to pick out a single word of English but it was impossible - this wasn’t a language you’d heard before.

You reached him and he was reading from the leather book, old, and damaged but still legible, it lay open in front of him. The pages are covered in peculiar texts and images you’d never set eyes upon.

Speaking in a barrage of syllables full of violent fricatives and too many consonants, he grabs a knife from his back pocket - one so very familiar - and began slicing his palm open with it.

“Bo! Don’t!” you screamed, and he whipped around in your direction, staring right at you - but the focus of his eyes was all wrong. Instead of looking into your eyes, his gaze was hovering slightly above your right ear. He squints, eyes flitting about the room briefly before turning back, and continuing.

“Please, stop!” you yelled, and he looked around again, this time he looked frightened. Fear painted every muscle behind his face, every twitch of his eyelid.

But he still couldn’t see you, despite his best efforts.

He clamped his palm shut over the flickering candle and a drops of blood dribbled down his hand and on to the flame. That amount of blood should have extinguished it, but it only made it burn with twice the intensity. You could almost feel the heat coming from it, the light blinding.

Dark whispers filled the air, seemed to travel through you and knocked you violently to the ground. On your hands and knees you crawled towards him, sat frozen in place as the black cloud descended over you and the whispers turned into screams.

His palms came to the floor, the blood soaking through the plush carpet, the wind whipping around him like a tornado. Something dark gripped his heart, his hands, and snaked into his mouth.

His body twisted back and forth as the force lifted him from the floor, his toes leaving the carpet behind.

Against the ferocity of the black cloud you weakly brought a hand to Bo’s shoulder, and you made contact this time. He looked at you with shock and awe, his eyes finally locking on to yours with intensity. Beneath your fingers his skin started to burn, to boil. You recoiled from the pain, and his hand came out to touch you “What are you…?” The cloud disappeared in a flash and Bo dropped back down to earth with an almighty crash.

Whimpering, Bo’s crumpled body lay next to the book, his long legs tucked up into his chest as he cried.

The room around you started to dissolve, his body dripping into the floor like wax, a viscous pool in the white carpet. The room liquified in front of your eyes and then, suddenly, you were standing in the guest house.

Bo was looking healthier, a decent thirty pounds heavier and setting up lights and props in the guest house. His face was neutral but you could tell he was happier, you felt the positivity licking out of him like a warmth, he burned so hot he felt like fire as he walked around the guest house, adjusting tripods and flicking through a thick grip of paper.

Sat on the floor by a keyboard his fingers danced along the keys, pausing periodically to adjust settings on his laptop nearby. Exhaling he pushed his long, dark blonde curls behind his ears, and started talking into the microphone.

“I took a big fucking breath” you heard him utter, and you bite back a smile as his deep timbre hits your ears.

Your knees grew weak hearing his voice. The gorgeous sounds filled your eardrums and soothed your aching heart. What the hell had happened back the house? What was that…that thing that got inside him like that…your gut feeling told you it couldn’t be anything good, but he seemed so much happier than before, so much more inspired.

Your body felt heavy, like you were in a body of water, swimming but on dry land. You were suddenly back in the main house and you saw Bo answering his front door to five very excited fans. Their faces dropped in awe and they sighed at the sight of him. “We know what you’ve done, what you will do” one whispered, stepping forward. “And we are so very eager to be a part of it.” another said, and the entire group bowed their heads to him.

“The world was fucked anyway, all I’ve done is speed it up a little.” Bo smirked, letting them inside quickly, glancing around his sedate street for any sign of nosey neighbours.

In nothing but his underwear, Bo was being held down by the curious people you saw at the door only moments before. One covered each limb, pinning it to the table, while another read from the book, snakelike tongue-twisting words spilled out into the air and made you feel nauseous. Prickled the back of your neck with fear.

“It’s for your own good sir!” One of them said, pressing down on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him from moving. He’s struggling, alright, almost weeping, but even with all his strength he’s no match for four others.

“P-please, I just needed a bit of creative inspiration, I didn’t know…I didn’t know it would lead to this!” he jerked and twisted but three men and a woman had him pinned. Wide eyed he continued to struggle, his complexion pink with strain, tears falling down his ruddied cheeks.

“Everything has consequences sir, and you too, must bear yours. We’ve been waiting so very long for a suitable vessel to come along, I must say we didn’t imagine it would be a stand up comedian, but stranger things have happened” the one with the book joked, but only his fellows laughed, Bo was stoic in silence, his face bared in a grimace, still trying desperately to break free of their grasp.

You ran over to the table, not knowing if you had any power or even if any of them could see you. No one moved, no-one even flinched. You touched Bo’s hand, gripped tight into a fist, pushing against the wood in his struggle, and he whispered “Please” , his eyes staring right into yours for a split second, before he looked back at the one holding the book.

You leapt back, and had to watch the rest of the scene play out, as that fleeting connection between the veils of reality vanished - and you felt certain that you’d imagined his eyes locking to yours for that moment.

“This will just make it easier for you, trust me,” the one with the book said, bringing the same knife from before to Bo’s chest, and carving the round symbol consisting of circles and ovals into his skin.

Bo screamed and pleaded for a moment, but as soon as the man finished, he fell silent. The other followers released him, but Bo scarcely moved. You moved towards him, and saw the symbol leaking blood on his chest. He sat up on the table, tears spilled down his face, but it had a stoniness to it. A hardness that wasn’t there before.

He looked around at his followers, expressionless, and they all immediately dropped to the ground, whispering hurriedly.

“We are so very proud to serve you, sir, and we can’t wait for the next steps.”

“The next steps?” Bo answered, you could see a twinkle behind his eye - there was still a flicker of him there, you saw it shine from behind the terror.

“Yes, sir, the bringer of end times must come through your mortal body, in-in the form of a newborn”

“R-right, so I need to-to find…” - “a host” the follower finished Bo’s sentence, pressing his finger into the pages of the book.

“It is said that you will know once you’ve found her, she will be the one to carry the child, to bring the darkness into this plane of existence, she will be your right hand, as you watch the world burn - it is her purpose to serve you, and she will do so gladly”

As they began to fade, one by one they turned to stare at you, lastly of all being Bo, he sighed, before the scene disappeared altogether.

It couldn’t be, you thought. Stumbling back from them all you screamed a silent cry into the blackness that surrounded you. You wouldn’t play a pawn in their game, you couldn’t, you would fight with every last ounce of strength inside you.

You were torn through earth, wood and stone, the harsh blue of the sky burning your eyes as you surfaced.

Bo’s house stood proud, and finally you realised why his house had so much land - the basement was where you’d been stolen away to - where you were being kept.

You rubbed your eyeballs, the sting from the sun so debilitating you were on your knees - the hard asphalt nipping at your skin as you crawled.

You finally got to your feet, eyes squinting against the harsh midday sun, palm trees lined the streets and you recognised this building all too well. The pink pastel tones of the cafe you spent too much time in screamed from the sidewalk. You could see a large crowd of people inside - a normal Wednesday afternoon - you thought.

Your palms pressed up against the glass and you saw…it couldn’t be…it was you.

Busily serving customers and making coffee. You watched yourself place a black coffee on the counter top and shout the order out. Your stomach dropped as you saw Bo appear from the back of the cafe.

Watching yourself from this angle was jarring and bizarre, but you just couldn’t look away. You wanted to pound on the window, to scream at yourself, tell her to run away, to never look back - but your body was frozen as you watched yourself give Bo your number. A slight heat burned beneath your cheeks as you watched how brazenly your body flirted with him. You were embarrassed, horrified, the mix stung your insides like nettles.

Then you were behind the counter at the cafe, suddenly empty, a strange sight to behold, you thought.

Leaning your forearms on the counter top you glanced over at the clock on the wall, the sight of it should have alarmed you - it looked normal, except it had no hour or minute hands, and all the numbers were symbols or letters you didn’t know - it puzzled you for a moment, before you heard the door open.

All rosy cheeks and fluffy sweater, she walked in, just as she had looked the day before you lost her. Your heart leapt inside your chest, tears burned underneath your eyelids. After all this time, she’d returned to you, after all this time, you were together.

Were you dead? Had you overdosed or…had Bo finally killed you? You wondered, but you knew that he had better plans for you.

“M-mom?” you said, but it barely sounded like any language you knew of. She nodded, the wide closed mouth smile she was known for.

You rounded the counter in an instant and sank into her warm embrace - she smelled like camomile and the lavender fabric conditioner she always used. The same one you started to use after the accident - to make you feel like she was close. Weeping into her shoulder you held her like you never wanted to let her go - and a small part of you wished you could stay here. Away from all the madness, just you and Mom in this bizarre limbo cafe.

“M-mom, I’ve missed you so much I…” you started, but she shook her head slowly and relaxed her brow, placing her soft hands on your shoulders.

“I’ve come, because I had to, I couldn’t bear to see my baby girl hurt,” her eyes filled with tears as she swept a curl of hair behind your ear “My sweet baby girl, I’ve been watching you all these years, and while you’ve truly been to some dark places, I’m afraid…” she paused, as if listening out for something - her eyes widening in panic, slowly moving to her left.

She looked back at you “I’m afraid that where you’re headed, there is no return.”

You shook your head “Mom, what do you mean?”

“Where he will lead you, there is no coming back from, I’m afraid for your soul, baby girl, I…”

She stopped talking, glancing toward the door.

“Where who will lead me? What do you mean, my soul?” Her fingers sank into your shoulders, she brought you close - so close you could see the pores on her skin and the direction her eyebrows grew in.

“They’re coming” she whispered, “They’re coming” repeated. This time her voice took on a metallic quality. She fell away from you, her arms twisting and turning in grotesque ways, her voice getting more and more removed from the soft, loving tone you remembered.

“M-Mom!!” you screamed, seeing her twitch and morph into something you recognised all too well.

Her body compressed in unimaginable, disgusting ways, her face growing pale and lifeless, her eyes stuck open. Frozen in fright. Looking just as you remembered her, that fateful day when you and Dad went to ID her body. You leapt back, screaming and clawing the counter for stability as her dislocated fingers grabbed at you.

Her legs gave out, collapsing beneath her with a sickening crunch, falling at impossible angles on the floor, still clutching for you, you heard her utter one last word.

“Run”

#moth to a flame #bo burnham fanfiction

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sofreddie · 3 years

Text

Stashed Away

Summary: With their biological clocks ticking, the brothers set out to find their True Mates, before it's too late.

Characters: Alpha!Dean x OC!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Unnamed!Omega

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mating, Marking, True Mates, Institutionalized Reader, Heavily Medicated Reader, Implied/Mentioned Sterilization

Word Count: 2,876

A/N: For @spnabobingo 2021 - Free Space. This is my first square on my first ever bingo card. Let me know what you think!

Sam and Dean - Winchesters, Alpha hunters - for years they dedicated themselves to the life. But now that they're getting older, and still without mates, they're starting to go feral. Ruts happen more often, are stronger, and last longer. If they don't find mates soon, they will go feral, hurt a bunch of people, and die. So they do a spell, with Cas's suggestion, to find their true mates. They've always acted like they didn't want it, weren't interested, but there's no pretending anymore.

Following the tracking that the spell gave them - they track down Sam's True Mate first. Dean's more worried about getting Sam right than himself at the moment. The tracking leads them to a small town - a case is here, they quickly learn, vamps - by the time they figure out what's going on, they head to the nest, only to find a woman there, taking the head off a vamp, two other bodies at her feet. She’s a hunter - and a badass one at that, taken three vamps down on her own.

Dean's a little agitated, he needed some blood to help balance out the feral rut that's been burning him alive from the inside. Sam however, is speechless. His blood roars in his veins, pounding in his temples as his eyes lock onto her form. He knows - he can feel it with every fiber of his being - she’s his…his True Mate.

"Mega," he wines, taking a step forward only to fall to his knees in weakness, "Need you," he groans, before falling to his side and promptly passing out - the fever too high and rampant.

After quick introductions and explanations, Dean convinces her to come back to their motel. It just happens that she's in the same one, a few doors down. Dean drags Sam into the room, dropping him on one of the beds with a growl. He's getting too old to be dragging his giant of a brother like a sack of potatoes.

“I’ll get another room,” Dean offered, trying to move around her so as not to set Sam off, “I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he offered with a tight smile, nodding at her before leaving and closing the door behind him.

The next morning, seeing Sam’s much improved condition, Dean smiled before entering the motel room and seeing the Omega sat on the bed, a fresh claiming mark at her neck.

“Well, welcome to the team,” Dean joked, still keeping his distance from her as he knew Sam would still be testy over anyone coming near his Omega, “So listen,” he added a bit abruptly, “I figured you and her could snag a car, make your way back to the Bunker,” he explained to his brother, “I know you two need some time. Fresh bond and all. And I still gotta…you know,” he added sheepishly. Now that Sam’s rut had cleared, he could see how bad Dean was in it.

It was time for him to find his Omega.

Dean sighed as he put the Impala in park, looking through the windshield up at the large facility in front of him. When he and Sam did the spell to locate their mates, they looked up the locations to plan out their routes. That’s when they discovered that Dean’s True Mate’s location - was a psychiatric hospital. He couldn’t imagine why, but he hoped that maybe it was something he could help with.

He tried his best to compose himself, feeling weak and barely holding back from losing himself to his biology. Using his FBI credentials, he was led to a common room, the nurse pointing across the room to a woman sat along, staring out the window. Dean nodded to her and the nurse returned to her duties.

Dean gulped down the hard lump in his throat that threatened to burst into a growl. From the other side of the room he could smell her scent, climbing in and flooding his brain. He tried to shake it off, sweat forming on his brow from the fever, and he urged his body to move towards her calmly.

His scent hit her as she gazed aimlessly out the window. A warmth flowed through her and she closed her eyes, humming in content. She opened them once more, her gaze still outside, as she started gently rocking.

“‘Mega…” Dean breathed quietly, his eyes fluttering closed in small intervals as he approached and her scent got stronger. It was driving him crazy, but he had to be wary of his surroundings, wary of her. He had to stay calm. With long controlled breaths he finally reached his goal, pulling a seat opposite the Omega and huffing out a shaky breath.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes gently rolling over his face and body before meeting his eyes once more. Her face was blank, but she looked pale and tired and afraid.

“W-who are you?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

Now he was here he didn’t know what to do. His brain was too full of other ideas. His cheeks had grown slightly pink from the quickly growing fever. “M-my name’s Dean Winchester,” he said quietly, “I…you…” he had to stop and clench his eyes for a moment, swallowing another hard lump in his throat, “You’re my True Mate.”

She looked him over once more, taking a deeper breath, before her eyes turned sad, “You’re dying too?” she asked, emotionless in features and tone.

Dean tilted his head at the question, frowning slightly, “Do you mean turning feral?” he had to gulp again, shifting in his seat as his body ached.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, “Too many meds to really know the difference.” She suddenly lurched forward, her elbows on the table as she looked at him intently and wide-eyed, “They say I’m crazy, you know? That what I saw wasn’t what I saw, but I saw what I saw!” she nodded manically along to her words, “You don’t need a crazy Omega.” she shook her head emphatically, looking down at her lap.

Dean jolted back in surprise at her small outburst, but his rational mind kicked in. He’d seen these places before and the meds they give patients, “I’ve seen a lot of things,” he offered, “So why don’t you tell me what you saw?”

“I didn’t do it,” she whisper-hissed, leaning forward on the table and glancing around the room before looking at him again, “He did, he came in and killed her, not me!”

Dean frowned again, his head jumping to ‘potential case mode’, “So, there was a guy?” he pressed her for more information, “What did he look like?”

“He was just a guy,” she shook her head, “B-but his eyes were weird,” she exclaimed wide eyed as if it was happening before her once more, “He killed her and he said I had to come with him because my Alpha was a very bad man. A-and then his eyes…” she trailed off, shaking her head and fighting back tears, “I got away, went to the police…b-but no one believes me.” she whispered sadly.

Dean’s body almost trembled with quickly growing anger. Someone or something knew what he and Sam had been doing. They hurt his Omega.

My Omega.

Mine.

“You’re not crazy,” he growled, quickly rising from his seat and looking down at her, “Omega, we’re leaving.”

She looked up at him in confusion, shaking her head, “I can’t leave,” she stated simply, “I’m scheduled for sterilization to stop my heat hurting me,” she explained as if it were a simple, everyday activity, “Doctor’s orders,” she nodded, turning back to look out the window.

The next thing Dean knew, he had his Omega in his arms and was standing beside the Impala. He was panting for breath and felt exhausted. He had some vague memory of a lot of snarling, roaring and punching Doctors directly in the face.

And now they were here.

“I’m gonna take you somewhere where you’ll be safe,” he breathed, looking down at…uh… “W-what’s your name, Omega?”

“Y/N,” she answered reflexively, still in an emotionless haze through it all, but relinquishing to her Alpha. “You shouldn’t have taken me,” she added, “The man with the eyes, I’ve seen him outside the window sometimes. And my heat is killing me. I’m a disposable Omega.”

“No,” Dean said suddenly and harshly, his arms held her tighter - his splayed out palms squeezing her. He bit back another growl, the scent of her heat crashing into him like a brick wall now his adrenaline fueled outburst was simmering down, “Never say that. You’re my Omega,” he pressed his forehead onto hers, gasping for breath as his body threatened to buckle as he grew weak, “Please…l-let me take care of you.”

She looked at the man, the stranger, the Alpha who had suddenly come in and tore her from her prison, like a knight rescuing a maid from a tower. She wanted to laugh at that, but she’d long ago lost her ability to emote.

They had kept her constantly medicated, to control her heat, her scent, her mind, her actions, anything they possibly could. But for some reason, something about him broke through her constant haze and made her want to just let him take charge.

“Okay, Alpha,” she agreed, just looking at him as she waited for whatever came next.

“‘Mega…” he breathed, voice breaking slightly from restraint. He held her so close, but not close enough at the same time. He could feel her warmth as he held her, her breath fanning across his lips. Some of that restraint slipped. He pressed his lips firmly into hers, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he hummed hungrily.

She pulled from the kiss, her hand gently cupping his cheek and turning his head to see several personnel searching the lot and searching for him, before one of them pointed at him and shouted for his companion.

“Right,” Dean stared wide-eyed before shaking himself back to reality. After ushering Y/N into the car, he quickly climbed in, the loud tire screeching of the Impala tires shortly following as Dean tore the car out of the lot and sped down the road.

When he said ‘somewhere safe’ before, he had meant the Bunker. The way his body was reacting right now however - aching, yearning, pleading to just touch her - he was ninety-nine percent sure he couldn’t last.

There was that motel just a few miles out though…

Y/N said nothing during the drive, her eyes out the window as before at the facility. She seemed still and calm, but also fragile and numb. But inwardly she felt trapped in her own head and unable to break free. She had dreamed about her Alpha, her True Mate, many times as had most people. And now that he was here, she was unable to even really experience it.

The next thing she realized, she was waking up in an unfamiliar room. She was somewhat dazed but her mind and body felt clear for the first time in a long time. She opened her eyes, sitting up slightly to two men at the foot of the bed she was lying in. One was the Alpha from before, the other a new stranger.

“I’ve healed and cleansed her,” Castiel explained, “But Dean-”

Dean had stumbled back, leaning against the wall as he eyes remained on fixed on Y/N. Castiel’s words were like white noise to him, he knew she was healed. If he thought her scent was powerful before, now with all the suppressants - and fuck knows what else - out of her system, it was like it had been turned up to eleven.

His head dropped back with a thud against the wall, his eyes clenching with a restrained growl. “‘Mega…” he breathed, his chest heaving and sweat forming on his brow.

She whimpered as her eyes set on him. She hadn’t felt a full heat in a long time and this one was especially bad. She knew it was him. She could remember their words, his touch, his lips.

“Alpha,” she called meekly, tentatively reaching up a hand in invite from her position on the bed.

“-Sh-she’s still in full heat,” Cas finished his sentence, taking a wary step back as he eyed the duo cautiously.

“Out,” Dean ordered, not even turning to address the Angel.

And Cas vanished.

Before Y/N could blink, Dean was there. His hands bunched in the back of her hair as he hungrily devoured her lips.

She moaned as they connected, his heat and weight soothing her ache and need. Her heart swelled, but a part of him also felt familiar, as if she’d known him all along. She pulled from the kiss, gazing into his eyes, frantic with need but also wanting to savor every moment. When she noticed how far gone he really was, she decided to let him take what he needed.

“My Alpha,” she whispered, kissing him once more.

There was a small rumble in Dean’s throat as his bloodshot eyes gazed directly back into her. He breathed, “Mine,” before his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth attached to her neck. He kissed and sucked a trail down to her collarbone, pressing his body into her as he fully mounted the bed and towered over her. He wanted to smother himself in her scent, every touch sending waves of need through him.

His hips rolled into her, his brain fogging as he quickly pulled at her shirt, ripping it clean off in one swoop before he hungrily mouthed at the swell of her breast.

She could feel the tremble in his muscles as he fought to keep the beast at bay, trying not to scare or hurt her. But she knew he needed more and she wanted to prove she could handle whatever her Alpha gave her.

“I won’t break,” she pleaded, pulling his lips from her body, “Take what you need Alpha, please,” she whispered desperately.

Dean’s eyes darkened, staring at her half-lidded before his hands moved fast. As he hungrily devoured her mouth once more, he quickly stripped them both of their clothes. His hands roamed her with need, quickly moving down to her center before two digits swiftly dove into her core.

He growled as he felt her slick, curling his fingers and pressing firmly into her g-spot, his eyes rolling back as she moaned in surprise. He quickly withdrew his fingers, moving to grab her hips and flip her onto her stomach. He hoisted her hips up to meet him, letting out a low moan as he rutted his painful hard erection through her folds.

She moaned wantonly, arching her back and presenting for him obediently. She purred, rutting back into him, desperate for her Alpha.

He moaned out, mouth hanging open longingly. “My Omega…” he growled lowly, positing the head of his cock between her folds and gripping her hips tightly, “Wanna knot you…” he growled again - hungrier - before slamming his hips forward with a loud grunt. She was perfect, tightening like a vice around him that he hissed blissfully, quickly pistoning his hips with choked huffs and growls.

She moaned loudly, panting hard as Dean set a brutal pace. His grip was tight, his cock filling her completely, slamming hard into her cervix on every thrust. She reached her arms above her, grasping onto the end of the bed for something to hold onto. Using the leverage, she pushed her hips harder back into him, lifting her head to groan out.

Dean leaned forward, his breathing quick and erratic as he pounded her. His lips grazed and sucked on her neck as he moaned, feeling the muscle at the head of his cock begin to swell. His grunts became strained as fought to keep his pace. “Cum on my knot, ‘Mega,” he demanded, releasing one of her hips to rub hard circles on her clit.

Feeling his knot swell she knew she was close to losing her mind. When his fingers found her clit, she stuttered and screamed as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching his throbbing length within her. Dean seemed to draw it out as her pleasure seemed to never end.

As her wall clenched him impossibly tighter, Dean roared through one final harsh thrust, holding himself as deep as possible as he finally came, his hot cum shooting deep and filling her. The hand still holding Y/N’s hip gripped bruisingly tight as Dean suddenly bit into her skin.

As her mind finally broke free of the haze of bliss, she realized he had positioned them on their sides spooning. Dean was nuzzling into the mark on her neck and humming, his hands grazing over her skin.

“Who was that man from before?” she suddenly asked, remembering feeling free of the medications and seeing a man there before he just wasn’t there.

“‘N Angel,” Dean mumbled, breathing in her hair and holding her tightly to him, “Cas. Healed you.”

Y/N smirked to herself, rubbing a hand over his forearm that was wrapped around her, “I see you’re still in caveman mode,” she teased.

He smirked with a small hum, not letting her go, ever.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

#stashed away #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean #dean winchester #reader insert #oc!reader #supernatural #spn #spnabobingo

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lune-hime · 3 years

Text

Mosquito Huntress (Chocobros x f!Reader

I hate mosquitos, you hate mosquitos, we all hate mosquitos. This drabble is dedicated to the hundreds of mosquitos that died on my Korean dorm room wall at the hand of my left Adidas sandal :3.

Noct’s was inspired by true events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

↞Noctis↠

It was the most horrendous sound. A sickeningly high pitched buzzing that vibrated among your ears at a rapid frequency. It pierced the veil of your dream and forcefully drop kicked you back into the waking world with a start. Just as you regained consciousness an electric clap in the darkness caused you to jolt, almost kicking the sleeping bag off your form. A shadow blocked out the dim moonlight that filtered through the ceiling of the tent.

Noctis’ eyes glowed like sapphires and shown with such an iridescence that meant he had just conjured up magic. Indeed, the clasped hands that were held a few inches above your head emitted a faint blue hue.

“Noct, what are you doing?” You drawled, the close proximity of the light within his palms to your face caused your eyes to squint in irritation.

“I got it.” He whispered victoriously, blinking a couple times in anticipation of your reaction.

“Got what?” You asked just as a large yawn engulfed you.

“The mosquito.” He grinned, shuffling to the door to the tent. He unzipped the zipper just enough for him to wiggle his hand outside, discarding the evil bug. Before you could speak up, Gladiolus’ violent snore ripped through the silence of the night from the far side of the tent. Prompto sleep-kicked the man in the stomach, offering a brief moment of tranquility before the disturbance would inevitably make a comeback.

“Did it die a painful death?” Your voice was devoid of sympathy and the seriousness on your face made Noctis chuckle as he sat cross legged next to you.

“I zapped it before it could land on your face. It died a quick death, sadly.” He stated in a hushed tone, gently brushing flyaway hairs from your forehead.

“What a shame. Still, well done.” You praised, reaching up to give his cheek a few lazy pats. He leaned into your touch, so much so that your drowsy limb flopped down onto the ground.

“What were you dreaming about?” He inquired softly. He was uncharacteristically chatty at this time of night for a boy who needed at least two naps daily.

“I was being serenaded by a beautiful man.” You grumbled. You were still peeved you were abruptly whisked away from the gentle, moonlit guitar strums and the man’s ethereal voice.

“As beautiful as in real life?” Noctis mused his lips curling into a smug smile. Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“The man from my dream is real?” Your fatigued features contorted as your half asleep brain actually contemplated being able to manifest dreams into reality.

Noctis scooted so close to you that his leg was bushing against your side. He leaned down and stopped when his face was centimeters from your own, whips of his hair feathering your cheeks.

“He’s right here.” Noct stated lowly, his tone as smooth as the sea that resided within his eyes. Their serene waves were beginning to lull you to sleep.

“No he's not. Ignis is on the other side of the tent.” You replied cheekily, now unable to keep your eyelids from falling. Before Noctis could respond you tugged on the fabric of his tee shirt and dragged him back down into the sleeping bag. You may have been exhausted but you always had enough energy to tease your prince.

↞Prompto↠

It was hot. Painfully hot. The kind of hot that once the humid air left a wet kiss on your exposed skin it clung to your form and every surface in the sun-exposed living room. The heat was slowly sizzling you alive and you were beginning to feel like a shrimp in a hot pot. A blonde shrimp was nestled atop of you, pressing your clammy body further into the plush sofa. His gentle puffs of steamy breath seared your neck and his limbs encircled you, involuntarily incubating you. The electric chattering of the fan and the low hum of the unattended television masked the otherwise curdled silence of the room.

Slowly rising from your slumber just as the sun was rising in the morning sky, you became fully aware of just how sweltering you were. And no matter how much you loved cuddling with your sunshine, he needed to get off of you otherwise you would dissolve into a pool of sweat. Wiggling around under him, you groaned when he clasped onto you tighter, burying his face further into the crook of your neck. You gave an exasperated sigh and now felt even stickier than before. You began to push him off once more, this time a bit more forcefully, when you saw it. The unwanted visitor stood out against the pale skin of his back like Gladiolus at your high school dances.

So you did the only thing you could do to ensure it wouldn’t escape. You smacked his back. Hard . The clap of skin on skin resounded through the apartment and caused a few pigeons to anxiously fly off their perch outside of the windowsill. The rapid flapping of wings was immediately followed by Prompto’s squirrel like squeak.

“WHAT’S WRONG?” His voice ascended to octaves that seemed impossible to reach. He was now very awake, disoriented, and in pain. He shot up to straddle you, sinking back onto your hips and reaching up to clutch the point of impact. There was a deep red mark already blossoming on his shoulder blade. Your eyes held pity until you saw the tiny daemon dust the skin of his upper arm.

“PROMPTO ITS ON YOUR ARM!” Your manic tone only skyrocketed Prompto’s anxiety. He recoiled when you leaned over to deliver another powerful hit. The poor boy was trying to grasp if he was still asleep and experiencing a nightmare.

“WHAT ARE WE AFRAID OF AND WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO HIT ME?” He exclaimed on the verge of tears.

“MOSQUITO!” You rapidly pointed to just below the sleeve of his tank top, the dark spot illuminated by the warm bands of sunlight. Prompto let out a sound resembling a duck being squeezed.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME SOONER?” His limbs were in a jelly-like frenzy as they slapped every exposed surface on his body. In the fray, it had strategically darted away from the hurricane of body parts but made its appearance once again when the storm had calmed.

“IT’S ON YOU NOW!” Prompto wailed, causing your eyes to grow wide.

“WELL THEN GET IT OFF ITS GOING TO SUCK MY BLOOD!”

“I DON'T WANT TO HIT YOU.” He whined, shifting apprehensively in his seat. He brought his hand inches from where the mosquito rested on your clavicle but hesitated before the glistening skin.

“I HIT YOU BEFORE ITS OKAY, IT EVENS OUT!” You encouraged, scooching closer to him so your knees touched. You craned your neck to give him a larger area to work with.

Reluctantly, Prompto’s palm came into contact with your collarbone a little too gently. You shot him an amused smirk.

“That was weak.” You said. He rolled his eye and when he removed his hand, the mosquito had been vanquished. You both exhaled a steamy sigh of relief.

Suddenly there was a brisk knocking at your door. After exchanging wide eyes, Prompto padded to the entryway. Before opening it, he discarded the carcass into the trash bin and gave his hands a few thorough wipes against his sweatpants.

A very tiny, unamused woman was standing in the hall. A lit cigarette hung lax from her right hand while the other rested on her hip. He blinked a couple times, unsure of what to say.

“Do I need to call the police or is yelling ‘It’s okay, hit me’ a kink of yall’s?” She said as more of a statement than a question, her voice gravelly. When she exhaled, a large puff of smoke blew into Prompto’s now reddened face. He tried to dodge it unsuccessfully and coughed before explaining.

“Uh, no, to both. We’re fine. We were just-” Prompto started, struggling to battle the creeping mortification brought on by the woman’s assumption. She abruptly held up her hand, cigarette dangerously close to Prompto’s mussed bangs, and turned to walk back to her apartment.

“I don’t need a detailed description of what you like to do in bed. Just keep it down.” She imparted, her voice cracking like and unpaved road, leaving Prompto a sputtering mess.

A week later, the whole floor of the apartment complex was convinced you and Prompto had an affinity for bug and bug killer role play. It would take you several months to live this down.

↞Ignis↠

“Darling come to bed.” Ignis’ command was more of a sweet invite than an instruction as he was far too drained for anything else. It had been a longer day than usual at the Citadel and all poor Ignis wanted to do was feel the sweet embrace of sleep.

“No.” You retorted stubbornly, not wavering from your defensive post next to the bookshelf. There was no way you would be able to go to bed with that thing watching you, waiting until the vulnerability of sleep overtook you so it could feast upon your blood.

“Please.” He pleaded, his level tone turning into a slight whine by the end. This was the seventeenth time he had asked you. Yes, Ignis was keeping count.

“No, not until it tastes my blade.” You spat, eyes narrowing as you tried to focus in on the tiny intruder’s location.

“You are unarmed my dear.” Ignis’ lips curled into a smile. He discarded his book on his lap and resigned to watching your antics. If he couldn’t stop you, he might as well enjoy the scene before him.

“My hands are my blade.” Your statement was quickly drowned out by a yelp as the mosquito fluttered off the wall. Your body contorted in ways Ignis never knew it could to avoid any possible contact with the creature as it floated a little too close for your liking.

Ignis snorted at your response, lightly biting his bottom lip to swallow a chuckle. You looked more focused on killing this spec of dust than you did hunting a coeurl. No matter how silly the situation was, the glint of determination in your eye and over exaggerated reactions had Ignis regarding you with adoration. He adjusted his position against the headboard, satin sheets pooling softly downward to reveal his bare chest. His hair was still damp and mussed from his shower and thin frames laid low on the bridge of his nose. If you weren’t so preoccupied by the mosquito you surely would have been more than distracted by his appearance.

You circled the room and randomly hit any surface that harbored any substance that vaguely resembled a mosquito. When you accidentally slapped your thigh instead of the side of the wardrobe Ingis’ melodic laugh broke the tense air. You shot him a glare that could melt ice and stuck out your tongue.

Just as he was going to coerce with you once again, the small creature buzzed just under the rim of his glasses. He silently followed the bug with his eyes until it landed on the nightstand next to the bed.

“It’s over here.” Ignis gave you the tip, gesturing to the tiny dot resting on the mahogany.

“Smack it!” You screeched, excitement flooding your veins at the proposition of a peaceful night’s sleep.

“No.” Ignis said smoothly. He was always one to push your buttons. Even though he could end this ridiculous hunt with a single swipe of his palm, he felt teasing was a much more entertaining option. You gasped at his betrayal.

“You’re the one who wants it dead, not me.” Ignis responded innocently, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Come on, the minute its dead I’ll come to bed.” You pouted, attempting to bribe him with cuteness. Ignis shook his head and pursed his lips. It took everything in him not to start laughing again.

“But I’m so comfortable.” He dragged out each syllable, flopping down and spreading out so he took up the entire surface of the bed. His eyes resembled the greenery of rolling hills against the horizon as they regarded you from under his eyelashes. They almost made you forget about the task at hand. Letting out an annoyed whine, you turned your attention once again to your prey.

You thanked your crownsguard training for the lightness of your feet as they padded silently against the wood floorboards until you were within smacking distance. The moment your hand met the nightstand with a satisfying crack, a triumphant smile spread across your face. There was no way it could have survived that hit.

“I take that as a fresh kill?” Ignis questioned and propped himself up on his elbow.

“Yes, add another to my kill count.” You turned towards him, still beaming, and held up your palm to show him the bounty of your hunt. You playfully shoved your hand near his face, giggling when he struggled to push you away. He laughed, grimacing when it got a little too close to his cheek.

“Lovely, darling. Now go wash your hand and let's go to bed.”

↞Gladiolus↠

The air conditioning revved to life with three crisp clicks once your sweaty fingers tiredly turned the dial to the max setting. Your corner of the vast training room was now gradually flooding with a frosty breeze that prickled your clammy skin with delightful icicles. A satisfied sigh left your parted lips, thankful to be relieved from the stickiness of hand to hand combat. Your butt was practically glued to the bench as you let the polar vortex cool you down. The grunts of other training Crownsguard members and the slams of bodies hitting the padded mats were muffled by the pulsing in your ears as you gingerly patted the sweat from your neck and face with a towel. A few paces from you Prompto laid sprawled out on the floor, his chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Don’t get moody, Prompto. She manages to overpower me half the time too.” Gladiolus nudged the deflated blonde with the toe of his boot and flashed you a cheeky grin.

“I know, I know. But the only one I’m ever able to take down besides the new trainees is Noct.” Prompto sighed dramatically.

“Well, that’s not a challenge at all.” Gladiolus snorted and passed you a water bottle, the condensation feeling lovely against your clammy palms.

“He might be easy, but he cheats by warping.” You added, rising from your seat to stand directly in front of the air con. The rush of cool wind felt heavenly on your back.

“Exactly.” There was no emotion in Prompto’s voice. He turned his head agonizingly slowly to look at you, gaze empty. You choked on your mouthful of water at his melodrama.

After taking a few generous swigs from his own water bottle, Gladiolus sauntered over towards you. Rather than standing next to you, like you expected, he grabbed your arms and moved to stand behind you. The action stole the euphoria of the synthetic wind and you whined in protest. He stretched his arms out on your shoulders and rested his chin atop your head.

“Well lately the only one who’s been kicking my ass is Iris. Besides the Marshall, of course.” You coughed as you wiped the droplets of water from your chin with the back of your hand. A giggle bubbled from your chest when you felt Gladiolus tense.

“Oh yeah, she’s getting good. It took her even less time to take the big guy down last week.” Prompto chuckled, vitality slowly flooding back into his system. Gladiolus visibly shuddered and released you from his hold to walk back over to the mat.

“She’s getting too good.” He mumbled as he rolled his shoulders.

“You wanna fight her next time instead of me, Prom?” You suggested jokingly. Gladiolus snickered, making Prompto faintly kick in Gladio’s general direction.

“No thank you. I’ll stick to the 15 year olds and Noctis.” He huffed as he pulled himself off the ground. His movements were like a piece of tape being tugged off of the floor painstakingly slowly. Once Prompto had vacated the training space, Gladiolus threw you a playful grin. He got into a fighting stance, his knees bent and arms angled for combat.

“Ready for our spar, baby?”

"Wait." You stated, attention on the corner of the air conditioner. Gladiolus squinted in the direction of your gaze.

"I will NOT train with this uninvited guest watching me." You declared, slowly rounding the corner of the machine. Prompto let out a quiet huh while Gladiolus shook his head.

“She really hates mosquitoes, doesn’t she?” Prompto asked rhetorically, fanning the sweat from his face with his hands. Gladiolus smiled fondly when you untied your shoe and attempted to use it as a killing device.

"Mhm. Honestly, I think her determination is pretty adorable." Gladiolus responded, not taking his eyes off you.

"Gladdy-" You whined when your target flew too high for your hands to reach. “I need your help.”

You beckoned him over with haste and he padded over with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Give me a boost, it's too high for me to reach." You tapped his shoulders and gestured for him to get down.

“What do I get in return?” He asked rather innocently. Your eyebrows shot up, expecting something more suggestive.

“I’ll treat you and Prompto to ramen when we’re done here.” You proposed, holding the shoe at eye level.

“Hell yeah!” Prompto cheered from the towel rack.

“Done.” Gladio hummed in excitement and knelt down so you could climb onto his shoulders. Gladio maneuvered you as close to the metal box as he could without ramming your knees into the side. You smacked the top hard with the sole of your shoe and turned it over for inspection.

“Hah! Die, bitch.” You roared happily, pressing a triumphant kiss to the top of his head. He squeezed your thighs in return and lowered you to the ground.

“My little mosquito hunter.” He cooed, smushing your cheeks together. “Now come on, let’s get this spar over with so I can get some free ramen.”

"Fine, but if I win Prompto has to fight Iris next week." You smirked.

“Sounds like a deal.” He agreed, winking at you as he got into position.

“This isn’t consensual!” Prompto’s protests were quickly forgotten in the throws of combat.

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trollartistry · 3 years

Text

Fleeting Reunion

Doing a drabble again! No art this time, but I might draw it later. I had the idea of ‘what if Nemi reunited with Classic Freddy as an adult?’ and wanted to do something with it.

Now, just an FYI, this drabble’s based on the idea that *somehow* and for *some* reason, the old classic animatronics were kept and used as parts or something for the new Glamrocks. Also dunno what year Security Breach canonly is in so I’m using our current year, 2021. So I’m really breaking canon here- oh well.

Story under the read more!

The first time Nemi discovered the old, beat down classics, he was shocked and thought he had been seeing things. Tucked deep in the pizzaplex was a parts and services room, and while he worked as a nightguard, on occasion he’d act as a mechanic. The man only had been looking for a basic piece to replace in Monty’s arm as it had broken mid golf swing, and it was an easy fix. But Nemi found more than just the part he needed- he found 4 familiar animatronics from the pizzeria he used to go to as a child; Foxy, Bonnie, Chica, and of course Freddy.

It plagued his mind, and it unnerved him every time he had to go into that room. They weren’t even that dismantled, if anything just.. broken. The foam and fabric on all of them torn, Chica’s hands were missing, Bonnie’s face was gone, and Foxy looked shredded up along his limbs and ear. Freddy was the only one that looked mostly decent, but the state he was in infuriated the nightguard. All of these beloved robots, just dumped in the back with no care in the world.

And then Nemi’s thoughts went from a simple, curious walk to a manic, inquisitive run. Were they the same four from that old pizzeria he attended on a weekly basis when he was a child? Why were they here? Could they still work if he powered them up? What would he even do once he turned them all on and they were the old ones he once knew? ...Would Freddy remember who he was, if Nemi was to power him up?

Finally his willpower broke one night. He had to know. He would only power up Freddy, just to see what would happen. If it wasn’t the same Freddy as the one all those years ago, he’d just shut him back off and let his burning questions fizzle to forgotten ash. And if it was the same Freddy, well.. they could at least catch up.

He spent a good month or so sneaking in, fiddling with wires and parts to make sure the bot could turn on without much difficulty. Thankfully, it seemed any evidence of his tampering either went unnoticed, or wasn’t reported cuz no one ever stopped him. And finally, one night, he was done. All there was left to do was flick the switch and power Freddy up. Nemi took a breath in, muttered his hope, and flicked the switch.

Sparks sputtered and the whole frame of Freddy jolted as power ran through his circuits, causing Nemi to jump back. Inside there was whirring, old inner workings flowing with electricity. The man watched, unsure if his heart was racing with hope or anxiety as the bot’s eyes twitched a bit, before blinking, focusing in on the darkened room and the person before him.

Freddy sat up against the wall, ears tilting a little and he blinked once, twice. Nemi could tell he was confused immediately, the way his eyebrows furrowed and he shut his jaw in a pursed manner. There was silence, an uncomfortable silence and Nemi didn’t know what to say or do, Freddy was just sitting there..

As Nemi opened his mouth, Freddy blinked with some recognition and spoke, unsure, “..*D-Deadname*?”

It’s a name that hasn’t been used by friends or family in so many years, only used for legal manners. But hearing it makes Nemi choke on his words as his heart clenches with emotion. So it is the same Freddy, and he recognizes him even after all these years.

“..Y-yea, it’s me, Freddy.” Nemi said, coming back over to kneel down before the sitting bot, unable to help but grin at him. “I don’t- don’t go by that anymore b-but it’s me.”

Freddy’s silent as he looks the man over, obviously a bit frazzled seeing someone he last saw as a child now kneeling before him as a grown man. He then looks around the room, and sees all of the different parts, and his fellow animatronics. He’s quiet as he takes it all in, and even though he’s old and worn, Freddy was wise and knew what this entailed. They weren’t in use anymore and instead replaced.

“I uh.. go by Nemi now.” Nemi said, bringing the bot’s attention back to him. Freddy blinked, then softly hummed a little as he nodded, “Nemi.. it’s.. unique.”

“Heh.. yea, got it during highschool.” Nemi replied. It’s quiet again and Freddy’s once again looking around, and Nemi wiped his watery eyes before deciding to explain, “You uh.. You’re in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzaplex. The year’s 2021.. I guess you guys are being used as parts now.”

“2021?” Freddy asked, attention back on Nemi. The man nods and Freddy gives a quiet sigh, “..I’m amazed we’re still in solid pieces then. Or that I even work..” He looked down at himself.

“I uh.. had to fix you quite a bit actually just to get you to t-turn on..” Nemi said with a shrug. He’s looking over Freddy again, and now that the animatronic’s on and talking, it makes his withered state hurt Nemi all the more. Freddy doesn’t miss the first tears dripping down the man’s face and he tries to distract him from his emotions, “Hey.. at least my name’s still out there, right? Surely there’s another model of me still keeping an eye on you.” He smiled.

Nemi’s heart only hurts more than that. Glamrock Freddy was just as incredible as the classic, if not more, and sure, the man loves him dearly.. but he could hear his younger self weep in the back of his mind, ‘But that’s not MY Freddy!’ Nemi clenches his eyes shut at that, a sniffle escaping him, and Freddy quietly sighs before he opens his arms, the old joints creaking. “Shh.. come here, it’s okay.”

The guard, though grown, can’t help but immediately close the distance to hug the beloved animatronic, a sob escaping him. Freddy holds him close, and recalls the few times he did this to Nemi when he was a little girl. He begins to try and play the same tune he did back then, but realizes he no longer has his music box, only a soft clicking noise coming from the inner crank that was left installed to turn it. So instead, Freddy talks and hopes his voice offers that same comfort.

“I missed you.. It’s nice to see you grown up.” Freddy said softly, removing the security hat from Nemi’s head to stroke his hair soothingly. Nemi manages to whimper out that he missed the bot as well, along with an apology that makes Freddy hush him softly, “You have nothing to be sorry for, Nemi..”

The brunette pulls back a little, shaking his head as he tries to wipe those spilled tears, “I-I didn’t even get to say goodbye to you back then when I had to move.. A-And now, here you are, i-in the back of a damn mall collecting d-dust and in pieces-” He began, and a old paw cups his cheek.

“None of that is your fault.” Freddy said as he comforted the man, “What matters is you had a good life after your time with me. I knew I would eventually be taken down from the spotlight, either for good or for a new model to replace me.. it happens, Nemi.”

Nemi looks at the bot who gives him a warm smile, the same smile he would give him all those years ago. It calms some of those bubbling sorrows, but Nemi still can’t help but sniffle.

“It’s been, what.. 10 or so years? And you’ve changed so much.. we have time, why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to? Just like old times.” Freddy offered, and Nemi nodded.

He told the bear about his father’s passing, the many years of moving before he ended up in his aunt and uncle’s care. How he discovered his own identity and realized he was a man, and graduated highschool by the skin of his teeth. Freddy listened to all of it, just like how he used to listen to Nemi as a child talk about his days back then. He then asked about the pizzaplex and how the man enjoyed working there, and Nemi in turn talked about the whole place and the Glamrock animatronics. Freddy’s amused at how Nemi talks about Glamrock Freddy- its that same admiration the man had for Freddy back then.. and something more, Freddy can tell. The conversation helped Nemi calm down and it was comforting to Freddy himself to know he was still loved by people, even if it was a completely different model. But a glance to his watch told Nemi he only had another hour or two before his shift was up. Before his time with Freddy, was up.

“..Y’know,” Nemi began after a silent moment of just being close to the bot, “I think- I think they’d get along fine with you and the others.. I could work on them too, get them up and running, and-”

“No.” Freddy shuts down the idea with a frown. It hurts to do so, but he knows his place. “I’ve had my time on the stage. We all have..”

The nightguard looks shocked at Freddy’s answer, and tries to change his mind, “F-Freddy c’mon, it’ll be fine! Maybe- Maybe HR would consider refurbishing you guys and you can be part of it all even-!” He said, voice cracking with desperation and Freddy cups the man’s face again, eyes sternly looking down at him.

“You and I both know that’s not how it would go, Nemi.” He said, “Even if we got along with the Glamrocks, it’d be trouble for all of us to be on again. You already risked your job just to get me back online, do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if you left me on?”

“I don’t care!” Nemi exclaimed, not caring just how childish he sounded, “Do you know how much I missed you when I had to leave?! And now here at my job I find your- your broken body just laying here and not know if it was really you and now that I put in all that work, it really IS you?! I-I can’t just- power you back down and forget about you after this, I-I wont! I love you too much to lose you again!!”

There’s a silence, and Nemi’s face grows red as he realizes what he said was selfish and childish of him, along with a confession for the old bot. Freddy’s surprised to hear it, but he then smiles, brushing back some of the brunette hair.

“I know. But you’ve never lost me nor forgot about me, have you? You got a job at a place with my name still in it, along with getting along with another me.” Freddy said warmly, “I know it’s hard.. but it’s for the best. If you kept me on, it would jeopardize everything and you could lose everything you have here.. including that Glamrock version of me.”

Nemi’s eyes widen, before looking away with sorrow at the thought of losing Glamrock Freddy. Freddy was right, but the thought of having to turn him back off had Nemi’s heart twisting in agony. “..B-but.. I can’t..” He whimpered, and Freddy pulled him back into the embrace.

“I know it’s hard.. but you have to.” Freddy murmured. “I’ll still be here, in more ways than one.”

Nemi nodded, fresh tears spilling as he let out another sob, “Can- can I hear your song, just one last time..?”

Freddy may of not had his music box, but he began to hum softly, letting the man hear that tune once more. They stayed there in the darkness of the room, Nemi quietly crying in Freddy’s arms as he listened, before sitting up as the last few notes were hummed. Nemi opened up the bot’s chest, reaching in to that power switch and looked up at Freddy, the two sharing one last gaze.

“G-Goodbye, Freddy..”

“Goodbye, Nemi.”

And with a flip of the switch, the sound of machinery powering down echoed in Nemi’s ears as he watched the life fade from Freddy’s eyes as he slumped against the wall, eyelids closing over. The man closed the chest plate, staring at the bot with a heavy heart before picking up his hat and getting up. He went to the door, pausing to take one glance back to the beloved bear, before exiting the room, the thud of the door closing behind him echoing down the hall.

A week later when he has to go in to that same room, he’s griefstricken to see the four bodies of the classic animatronics were gone for good and for the rest of that night, it’s spent sticking close to Glamrock Freddy as the new, shiny Glamrock model of his beloved childhood friend still brought the man comfort and happiness.

#nemi babbles #story #drabble #five nights at freddys #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #fnaf security breach #freddy fazbear #glamrock freddy #self insert #self insert x canon

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jeonghwadaisy · 3 years

Note

please write #19 and #20 for hongjoong x f!reader where they got into a fight or some misunderstanding and he makes up for it in more ways than one lol thanks 😚

This was a fast one, hope you’ll like it!✨

”Kim motherfucking Hongjoong” you yell as you storm inside your shared apartment. A familiar figure peeks from the kitchen and quickly turns to face you. You slam the door shut and he looks at you with a confused expression. ”B-babe what is-” he tries to ask you but you slam your bag onto the kitchen table and cut him off. ” Why the fuck are there pictures going around of you holding some womans hand?? What the actual fuck? Do you think I’m a dumb fuck or what?” you yell with your face red and tears starting to gather in your eyes.

His eyes go wide from shock and his face turns pale. You try your best not to strangle the man right there and then, taking in a few deep breaths before looking back into his eyes. Those eyes are filled with fear and panic as he tries to collect himself and explain the situation. ”I-I would never do that, you know it baby” he stutters and tries to reach out to you, only to have you back away from him with a frown. ”Don’t fucking touch me” you hiss at him and you can see the hurt in his eyes.

He reaches out to you again and this time gets a firm hold on your waist. You try to step away but he pushes you gently against the kitchen counter and holds you there. ”Listen to me. Please.” he says and grabs your jaw with his other hand, making you look at him. ”That woman was one of our staff members. The reason I held her hand was because she got super anxious from all the cameras around her. She’s super shy but the best stylist we have and as a leader it’s my responsibility to take care of them too. Would you rather have her breaking down infront of everyone? Would that make you happier?” he asks and cocks his head a little, still maintaining eye contact.

You feel a wave of guilt wash over you. Of course he would do that, god, he’s always there for everyone. That’s one of the things anout him that you fell in love with when you two first met. You sigh and look down at the ground. ”I-” you begin your apology but don’t get to finish. Hongjoong lifts your gaze back to meet his. ”I hope you know I would never do that kind of things to you? Never, ever, ever” he states and caresses your cheek with his thumb. You can only nodd a little and lean your face into his hand. ”You really had me scared there for a minute you know” you finally say and he instantly starts kissing all over your face, saying a quiet ”sorry” after every kiss.

He moves down to your neck and you can feel your body starting to relax in his hands. A sigh escapes your lips as his lips move to that sweet spot of yours. His kisses begin to get harsher and closer to sucking, which makes you let out a silent moan. As his hands go from your waist to grab your ass, you pull him from his face and crash your lips together into a passionate kiss.

After a while of making out against the counter, Hongjoong pulls away and starts walking towards the bedroom. He turns his head back at you and flashes you a nearly demonic smirk. Your knees slightly buckle from only that visual. God, the amount of power that man has over you. You quietly follow him to your bedroom and see him laying on the bed, hand patting on the spot infront of him. ”Cmere babe, let me make it better” he cooes and you crawl on the bed. ”Let me show you how sorry I am” he says and quickly flips you over to your back.

You look down at Hongjoong lowering himself on you and let out a small whimper as he begins to remove your skirt and kiss your thighs. His hands go to hold your waist, not wanting to let you buckle your hips to him. His soft kisses go closer and closer, until he stops right at the edge of your panties. He lets out a chuckle and that has you furrowing your brows at him in confusion. Hongjoong lifts his head from between your legs and looks at you with a cheeky smile. ”Baby you’re fucking dripping already” he teases and wipes his finger against your wet panties. Your body jolts a little from the sudden touch and you feel a faint blush take over your cheeks. However, Hongjoong doesn’t give you the time to feel ashamed as he pulls your underwear off and immediately dives into you, earning a loud moan from you.

”F-fuck” is all you can mutter out between your breathy moans as that man swirls his tongue around your folds, exploring it like it was the most exciting thing in the world. His hot tongue glides up and down your pussy, lapping up all the wetness coming from you. Your hands start to clench onto the sheets as he suddenly sinks two of his slender fingers into your heat. ”I- ffuck” you moan as he continues to eat you out while pounding his fingers into you. You can feel your high starting to approach you dangerously fast with the manic pace this man is destroying you.

Your legs begin to shake a little as you close in on your release. His tongue begins to dance against your clit and that’s all it takes to get you over the edge. ”S-shhit I. I-I'm ggonna, ffuck” you breathlessly let out before losing all control as your orgasm washes over you. You nearly scream and roll your eyes to the back of your head as your legs shake around Hongjoongs head.

But as you were coming down from your high and starting to push him off your sensitive core, he wouldn’t move an inch. You let out a loud whine as he starts to pump his fingers inside you again. ”P-please” you whimper and try to move him with your arms, not succeeding in that. You throw your head back in pleasure as he starts to hit that one spot inside you again, loud moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. Hongjoong smirks and climbs up to meet your face, fingers still buried deep inside you. ”You sound so pretty when I’m ruining you” he chuckles and begins to kiss your neck.

You can feel your second orgasm coming and so can he from the way your walls start to clench around his fingers. Your grip on the sheets gets even harder when Hongjoong uses his thumb to roll around your clit as his fingers continue to work on you. ”Come on babe, be a good girl now and come for me” he whispers to your ear and nibbles it gently. This sends you over the edge for the second time, your walls spasming around his fingers which makes him groan. Your whole body shaking from the overstimulated orgasm, you try to calm yourself and take deep breaths while Hongjoong removes his fingers from you. ”Good girl” he praises you and leans to kiss your head.

”But the fun isn’t over yet” he smirks as you look at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging open. ”Get on your knees babe” he commands while unbuckling his belt. Fuck.

#kim hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez #kim hongjoong #hongjoong

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azwriting · 4 years

Text

Never Was There a Story... (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Eleven

Hi guys here's chapter eleven! Sorry it took a little bit, the holiday caused quite the delay! I’m truly concerned for the safety of Kylo/Ben in TROS and I’m rioting if anything bad happens to him. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Gif is not mine!

Summary: (Y/N) and Kylo continue to grow closer until one night they finally find each other again.

Warning(s): Language, Angst, Fluff, NSFW (towards the end),

Word Count: 6210

Calloused fingertips traced invisible lines against (Y/N)’s smooth skin, causing her to faintly stir in her deep sleep. They were hot against her face as the person mumbled incoherent words, something her fogged mind could not pick apart. She felt them slip away, the warm presence next to her disappearing from the bed as well, her eyes never opening. She barely registered it at all as she fell back into a light sleep.

A door slid open, waking (Y/N) from her short sleep. Her eyes fluttering open at the noise and watched as a blurry silhouette exit the bathroom. Blinking rapidly, her eyes focused in on a fully dressed Kylo heading towards the main door. It was barely dawn where was he going? “Slipping out before daylight huh?” (Y/N) teased, her words stopping the silent man. He turned to find her staring at him from the mass of covers, looking nothing short of comfortable and extremely inviting. A part of him was not positive as to why he thought to leave the comforts of the bed in the first place. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” (Y/N) denied it as she propped herself up on an elbow, her sleep hooded eyes never faltering from his.

“Where are you going?” Kylo stepped away from the door and moved closer to her.

“Why you miss me already?” (Y/N) smiled, she loved his humorous side that was breaking through his once icy and stiff persona he had adapted as Kylo Ren. Although she knew he had to, to survive.

“Something like that.” Kylo let out a short chuckle now hovering above her.

“I’m going to meditate.” His answer was timid as if it seemed unreasonable for him to do so. Even the Dark side Force users were known to meditate and Kylo was not just purely dark.

“May I accompany you?”

A small eager smile grew on his face, “Of course.” With that, he pulled her out of bed.

(Y/N) walked towards the area in between the garden and the lake where Kylo sat waiting for her. She was now cleaned, dressed, and ready to tap back into the Force fully. Eager to connect to another lost part of herself, a circumstantial part in indicating where her place was. She sat down cross legged beside Kylo, who she mirrored, the palm of his hands pressed firmly against his knees. “You’ll need to clear your mind and focus inward.” He instructed his eyes never opening. (Y/N) nodded even though he could not see it. She closed her eyes and attempted to will away all her thoughts, focusing on her heartbeat, but little thoughts would slip back into her mind just as she began to reflect inward. They were tiny nothing thoughts, nothing on the grand scale of things she had to worry about, but they intruded anyways keeping her from her state of peace.

“Are you in need of assistance?” (Y/N) peeked one eye open to see Kylo observing her restlessness and inability to submerge herself into a state of inner stillness.

“Maybe, only if you care to.” He snickered under his breath and moved to rest on his knees, facing her. His hands extended outwards, his calloused fingertips pressing gently against her temple, and (Y/N) closed her eyes. Her mind quieted down, allowing for her to slip into a state that was completely still and one pointed, her soul awakening. She was fully aware of her surroundings: of Kylo removing his hands and sitting back down, of the gentle breeze caressing the surface of the blue water, and of the soft melodies performed by surrounding birds. She felt the flow of the Force: life, decay, rebirth, the Light and the Dark. She could feel the Light surfacing in Kylo, her heart swelling in response. He was changing, he was starting the path to saving himself. (Y/N) focused on a middle ground in between the two sides when she felt something strange. The Dark was not beckoning to her, promising enticing impossible things, no it was creeping forward reaching for her instead.

(Y/N) was little kneeling in her small bed, small arms pressed against the window sill. Her bright eyes watching the bright crackling lightning through the small window, enjoying the cool night breeze that floated in with the sweet smell of the garden just beyond the walls. She witnessed the same breeze dance through the surrounding trees, each leave twirling along. (Y/N) was content and happy. With another bolt of lightning erupting across the sky, lighting the otherwise dark Nayli, a strange twisted feeling entered her soul. Filling her with only fear. The sweet smell of the garden faded, replaced with a strong scent that burned in her nose with each inhale, smoke. She coughed out the strange twist in smell as she slid off her bed. Confusion and frightfulness replacing her previous contentedness, even she, at such a young age, knew something was wrong. (Y/N) walked towards the door across her room, a strange orange hue sneaking in through the bottom slit. As her tiny hand reached for the door panel, the door abruptly shot up.

Her mother looked down with frantic eyes, the blackest of smoke already clinging to her skin and nightgown. “Mamma?” She was silent as she scooped (Y/N) up into her arms, a hand cradling her head, pushing the child down into her mother’s clothed shoulder to prevent the inhalation of fumes. Her mother rushed through the flame coated hallway, hurrying towards the front door. A loud cracking noise sounded, followed by a crashing sound. Her mother halted in her motions, tucking (Y/N) closer.

“No!” Her mother cried out. (Y/N) tore her head away from the shoulder to see some of the large lumber supports had fallen from the ceiling and now obstructed their escape.

“(Y/M/N)!” A deep voice bellowed out from the other side of the blockage.

“(Y/F/N) we’re trapped!” Her mother called back seeing her husband’s face poking through a small opening left in between the lumber.

“Go out one of the windows!” (Y/N) and her mother turned to find the hallway behind the consumed with even more flames. The two turned back to the obstacle, her mother eyeing the small opening, small enough for a child to fit through.

“No you’re going to have to grab (Y/N)!” She concluded.

“What about you?” (Y/N)’s father called back in a frantic.

“I’ll figure something out, but you have to save her, she’s too important!”

A loud defeated sigh was heard, “I know. I’m ready when you are.” (Y/N) was pulled away from her mother’s body, leveling the small girl with her mother’s face.

Pressing a tearful kiss to her cheek, her mother instructed her carefully, “Keep your head down honey.” (Y/N) obeyed and felt as she was maneuvered through the small opening into her father’s hands.

(Y/N)’s eyes flew open as she jolted back to the present. Her chest was tight as her memory induced a deep panic in her. Her breathing was ragged on the verge of hyperventilating. Her mind replayed her parent’s deaths, the nightmare she consistently had as a child. The panic induced hysteria she was experiencing seemed to break Kylo out of his meditation, his widened eyes turning to hers. He was up on his knees quickly, his red crackling lightsaber appearing out of thin air. His eyes scanned her body for any sign of injury, observed the terrain looking for any sign of a hostile threat, completely unaware that the threat was her mind. Kylo seemed to read her manic thoughts better after he concluded there was no physical threat, finally reading that she had once again seen a flash of a memory again. She watched as he turned off his lightsaber and place it in the grass next to him, his eyes attentively watching her. “I saw them die, I saw them die.” She repeated thickly. Instantly Kylo’s arms were beckoning her forward and into his sinking lap, his arms tightly securing her against him. (Y/N) clung to him desperately as she continued to echo the same four words.

(Y/N) sat on the couch in the house, rocking herself back and forth, still in a fit of shock. Her tears had dried, but she could only credit that miracle due to the fact she had run out of them. She still sat in her state of distress when Kylo exited the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hand. His towering frame came to a stop and handed her the steaming cup, the warmth thawing through her stone like stature. Kylo sat down next to her and proceeded to rub soothing circles on her back, their automatic comforting tool. Shakingly (Y/N) lifted the cup to her lips and took a small sip, in the same breath admitting to the dark truth that haunted her. “I killed my parents Kylo.”

“Why would you believe such a thing?” Kylo questioned despite knowing her train of thought, why she made this conclusion everytime she dreamt of the horrible night. It was something that had discussed late at night when these dark thoughts plagued her sleep.

“It was my nightmares all over again, reliving the night it happened. I was looking out the window and felt this great swell of darkness consume me. Then the fire erupted across the farmhouse… I started the fire.”

The gentle hand of her back was removed, instead moving to turn her to face him. His sincere eyes reined her out of the abyss of sorrow. “No you didn’t. (Y/N) there has never been an ounce of darkness in your soul. It was a tragic accident, the lightning caused it. The Republic investigated it, there was no foul play.” (Y/N) nodded along, she knew this, she did. Leia and Kylo had told her many times, it was not her fault. Although something still did not feel right about that night, but she needed to discredit it, for her sanity. She was only four perhaps she had been wrong, confused. Her sorrow could not be so easily swayed, but she would drop the subject.

“I know… I just-” She cut herself off, wanting to spare his feelings, but she had already thought it. She always lost someone of significance to a fire.

“I know, but neither of them were your fault.” She looked to him through her veil of lashes, riddled with guilt. Kylo’s arms outstretched once again, but this time his eyes held a look of questioning, uncertainty. (Y/N) silently approved and his arms wasted no time in moving her to sit sideways on his lap. She instantly burrowed herself against his chest finding the comfort she longed for.

The next morning, (Y/N) felt the same calloused fingertips pressed against her skin. There was no rhythm to his movements today, only a simple caress followed by a few light pokes. Was he afraid she was no longer tangible? Keeping her eyes closed she feigned sleep, enjoying his soft strokes. “I still can’t believe you’re really alive.” His raspy voice murmured, in disbelief. Worse he thought she was a ghost… “I can hear you, you know?” (Y/N) bit back a smile, opening her eyes to see him still lying across from her. His hair falling wildly against the pillow, eyes still red from sleep, and a lazy smirk on his face. Oh what a lovely sight.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hmm sure you don’t.” She giggled and stretched her arms over her head, hearing a faint pop with the motion. Kylo watched her with an amused look, he was quite frankly giving her too many smiles to handle. “I have a proposition for you.” (Y/N) quirked up an eyebrow and studied his eyes, the windows to his soul.

“I’m listening.”

Kylo propped himself up on one elbow and looked down on her, “Let’s go swimming.”

“Really?” Perhaps she was imagining things but did the Supreme Leader of the First Order just suggest they go swimming?

“I can still hear you.” He deadpanned, causing an embarrassed blush to seep up the back of her neck and her cheeks. “And yes. You used to love swimming and I figured you could use a nice memory.” (Y/N) felt her heart pick up a little, his simple caring words ruining any fight she had left. Was there any fight even left? She knew she was stumbling down a deep tangled path, but she could not fight it. Eventually they would have to return to the world, to reality, to the dark truth that was their life outside this atmosphere, but they both continued to choose to ignore it all.

Kylo stood in the main room awaiting (Y/N), the massive intimidating Force user was in a pair of inky black swimming shorts, striving for the two towels in his hands to hide his exposed chest. She had already seen him without his shirt on when they first arrived five days ago. He did not want her to feel as flustered and uncomfortable as she had that morning. Granted that was before they had begun to reconnect, before she knew the truth. Yes, in the past they had seen each other naked plenty of times, becoming extremely comfortable around each other, but it had been over a decade. Kylo heard her door shoot open and the sound of her piddle paddle against the white floors as she neared the main room. The Supreme Leader grew nervous, wanting to sink in his skin, before his thoughts were pulled away.

(Y/N) stepped out of the hallway in a simple black bathing suit, fingers weaving her hair into a tight braid.. His eyes trailed up her figure, gulping heavily at the sight. It had been over a decade since he had last seen so much skin, let alone hers. He was unsure of how to process it all. Kylo tried to remind himself that her comfort came first, that he needed to stay in control of his thoughts, of his hands. They were not love struck teenagers anymore, only broken adults who had found each other again. Her simple touches and thoughts were not signs that she wished to be with him again, no he would need a verbal admission for that, words he did not believe she would ever say despite it all. He had become a monster and no one loved monsters.

“Ready?” (Y/N) grinned, unaware of his racing thoughts.

“Y-Yes.” He extended his arms outwards towards the glass door and to his own personal torment.

The lake water was rejunivinating against (Y/N)’s exposed skin as she waded through the breathtakingly refreshing water, her mind at complete ease and content. No sorrow filled thoughts plagued her mind, no thoughts of the eventual discussion of how Kylo and her were supposed to continue forward. No, she could only feel the vibrant energy of life that enclosed around the lake, that greeted her like an old friend. Although her true old friend swam slowly trailing behind her, his wet hair clinging to his face messily. Although she doubted he would ever admit it, she knew he was enjoying himself. Her arms extending out of the water to push her further on, elicited a sound that triggered another flash to occur.

(Y/N) and Ben were in the overgrown field, just beyond the temple. They were in their mid teens, their shifting friendship the only thing on their minds. “Just trust me and stay still.” Ben sighed out annoyed. (Y/N) only rolled her eyes, eyeing his upside down figure across from her. He was doing a handstand, his hair falling away from his face, revealing his ears that he ever so hated. She thought they were cute, just another part of him that added to his perfect self. Of course she would never admit that to him, but that was besides the point. Instead she only giggled at the sight. The young padawan across from her had gotten it into his head that he could lift her using the Force, upside down. A story Master Luke had begun to regret telling his nephew.

“Fine but if you drop me, I will personally fly you to Tatooine and feed you to a Sarlacc.”

Ben’s eyes widened at that, “Noted.” The two were silent for awhile and (Y/N) could feel Ben’s presence reaching forward in the Force, but seemed to be unable to lift anything. He was not focusing enough, surely the amount of blood rushing to his head was not helping. His aura shifted from determined to frustrated to angered and (Y/N) finally spoke up at that. “Let me help.” Ben’s eyes opened harshly, agitated he could not do it himself, but the sincere look on (Y/N)’s face disposed of any anger. He instead nodded and closed his eyes again. (Y/N) did the same and began to search the Force for Ben’s surge of power, the young padawan finding it rather quickly. The two had an unheard of connection in the Force as if they were drawn together, their powers somehow being pushed together, as if they belonged that way. The two focused immensely with their connected energy, both beginning to feel a change. (Y/N) and Ben felt a burst of something, a sign to open their eyes.

“Whoa!” They both were floating a few inches above the ground, (Y/N) still cross legged and Ben upside down but hovering in the air. Around them a few items floated too, their lightsabers, books, and scrolls, their power doing it all.

(Y/N) returned to the bright sun and sparkling water, she now swimming upright and in place. Kylo still was a feet away, only now he wore more of a smile. He noticed her no longer glazed over eyes, signifying she was back from her memory. “What did you feel?” She asked beating him to the punch as he swam closer.

“Humor, Joy, and Pride.” She hummed in acknowledgement, her head dipping back into the water. Her hair swayed gently in the water as she answered his unasked question.

“I saw when you tried to lift me standing on your head.” Kylo let out a soft chuckle, his inner pleasure radiating off of him with the sound. Everyday (Y/N) could feel the darkness retreat and the light grab ahold of him, it was a slow process, but she suspected he also fought against it as much as he could. She was unsure as to why he was afraid to turn back, it was something they would need to delve into in the near future.

“I’m glad I didn’t drop you.” Kylo’s voice awoke her from her thoughts and she laughed at his words, recalling her empty threat.

“From what I recall you couldn’t lift me without my help.” She could not help but tease him. Others would be trembling where she stood, quaking in fear of the white hot anger that ran through Kylo Ren’s body, but not her . Oh no she rather rejoiced in the fact that she was in this position and he was slowly distancing himself from that loathsome mantra. Kylo quirked an eyebrow up at her antics, a challenge embedded in the action.

“Oh really?” (Y/N) had no time to respond before a spray of water coated her already wet skin. She gaped at him in disbelief, what were they children again?

“Yes.” Kylo mocked, reading her thoughts. She did not think very much before she was shoving a handful of water at him, a minor splash war beginning. It was as if they really were children again. Children who were not forced to grow up so quickly, children who did not perish. Kylo swam closer and grabbed ahold of (Y/N) before she could shovel another handful of water into his face. Pulling her flush against him, their fun antics stopped, breath hitching in throats. The two stared into each other’s eyes as the warm sunlight danced across their skin, the same bare skin that was pressed tightly against each other. It was all so overwhelming, their senses heightened by their intoxicating presence. When was the last time they had been this close, under such joyful circumstances? Much too long, that (Y/N) was sure of. She could feel the diminishing self control in Kylo and in herself. She was not entirely distraught by the idea, but it was too soon.

“Now don’t go getting any ideas Spaceboy.” She breathed out, her breath fanning against his smiling face.

“Never.” His brown eyes gleamed with his reply and (Y/N) felt if she were to drown in anything today it would be his eyes. The light banter seemed to break down the thick tension between them, Kylo’s releasing arms also doing the same. “How about lunch?”

The sun had just set beyond the ridge, the soft warm glow fading into a dark blue, with the stars beginning to glisten in the night sky. The two Force users after another peaceful dinner, had retired to the couch. Kylo was taking up the entirety of the surface, his body much too large to try and cram into a small corner, with an old brown leather book cradled in his massive right hand. He read the contents aloud to his company who in return only buried her head further into the crease of his neck. (Y/N) was at ease, resting in between Kylo’s outstretched legs. His warmth and soft words were lulling her to sleep.

She had never slept so much in her entire life than she had these past few days. The emotional weight of the stress she experienced and the truth she had relearned, she suspected had a temporary affect on her body. Inducing the seemingly constant fatigue. Kylo continued reading to her and her eyes began to grow heavy against his skin. (Y/N) thought of the past five days and how quickly they had changed, transitioned into something entirely else, how quickly her feelings had changed. Upon arrival she had been a lost Resistance fighter begging for an escape from the Supreme Leader and now she wanted something so strikingly different. “Stay with me.”

It was neither a statement nor question, but a promise comprised of simply three words. Kylo maneuvered above her, pulling his neck out from under her, just to get a look at her sleepy face. Her eyes were half lidded, a lazy smile on her face, and a sweet dusting of warmth coating her cheeks. She looked utterly magnificent to him. He let out a deep sigh and lowered his head, pressing his nose against the top of her braid. “Forever.”

Twelve days. (Y/N) had been with Kylo Ren on this planet for twelve days. Each morning she woke to soft innocent touches, then Kylo proceeded to make breakfast for them, and fill their afternoon with different activities. They would walk around the surrounding fields, go swimming, read, or simply lie down in the garden and reminisce. All activities that brought out more flashes. He was doing it to help her of course, to help her process it all, but there was an alternative motive behind his actions. He wanted to reconnect… they both did. In the midst of all this they wanted to find each other again. In the evening, Kylo would cook again for them, he refused to let her assist in any way, next they would watch the sunset, and then retire to bed only to start all over again. (Y/N) knew they were playing out a fantasy, pretending to live another life, one where they had no responsibilities besides to be with each other. It was not wise to live like this, to fool each other like this, but they could not fight it. They simply could not fight each other.

(Y/N) exited the master bathroom to find the bedroom empty, just as she had left it. A part of her was relieved, she needed a moment to think. It was late and she had decided to take another shower, to wash away the remnants of the day, and Kylo must have still been outside meditating. He had begun to do it more actively, a part of him rising and it forced him to need time to contemplate. After her experience last week, she had not returned to meditate with him, afraid of how the Dark would seek her out again. But she could not think of that, not when her mind was already a frazzled mess. Anxiety filled her soul as she paced across the span of the room, her fingers fiddling with the hemline of her white nightgown. She could not help the thoughts, the desire that raced through her mind. The thoughts frightened her, he had let her down before. She would not be able to survive the heartache if he did again. But, her thumping heart reminded her, not once since they had been here had she seen him make contact with the First Order. It was like he had cut himself off in search of possible redemption. The idea made her heart swell and extinguish some of her anxiety. She was unsure of how it would go, but she wanted it.

With a surge of certainty (Y/N) moved towards the door across from her, but halted in her motions when the door opened for someone else. He entered the room rather abrasively, a look of concern embedded on his handsome features. His eyes found hers quickly, observing her enticing white figure, his concern being replaced with something unreadable.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? I can feel the anxiety surrounding your aura from outside.” His words were still laced with worry as he stepped closer to the other side of the bed. No nothing was wrong per se but she could not find the ability to voice it. Her nerves were getting the best of her but she needed to stay focused, determined. He would want this too, right?

(Y/N) stayed silent as she hurried to close the distance between them, her hands grabbing his face and pulling him down to her lips. A noise of surprise escaped past his lips as he was taken aback by her unexpected actions. For a moment they were lost in the kiss, in the feelings boiling inside, in their longing for each other. But his large hands closed around her upper arms and gently pulled (Y/N) away from him.

(Y/N)’s lips already felt cold at the disappearance of his, a subtle pout forming in response. Why had he pulled away? Had she misread his feelings, his intents? Was this not all about being together again? “(Y/N)…” His voice wavered as he looked down at her, eyes gleaming with a look of warning. What was he so concerned about? Was he afraid to lose himself in her? Because she was hoping to lose herself in him.

“It’s okay Ben, it’s okay.” (Y/N) stepped closer watching the sharp intake of air Ben had taken at the sudden difference in name. It had been so long since he had heard her truly say it, let alone with so much passion behind it. His hands fell from her arms and she used the new found freedom to let them trail up his exposed arms, leaving delicate touches behind. She traced every visible vein, every bulging muscle, leaving behind nothing but goosebumps. Standing on her tippy toes, (Y/N) moved to press soft kisses to the side of Ben’s neck, loosening his resolve with each kiss. A soft sigh fell from his lips as she continued to taste the salt of his skin, his breathing picking up slightly. She wanted to convey to him how much he meant to her, how much she wanted to be with him. With one last kiss pressed to the edge of his jaw, Ben pulled (Y/N) back and bent down to capture her lips once again, his fear dissipating.

His rough hands raked down the silky fabric of her nightgown finally grabbing at the back of her soft thighs and lifting her instantly. (Y/N) locked her legs around him as Ben moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Their bodies were flushed against one another, lips pressing feverish kisses to their mouths, teeth clashing against each other roughly. (Y/N) eagerly wove her fingers into Ben’s hair, soaking in the feeling of his hands slipping up her nightgown to rest on her waist. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she continued to drown in the taste of him. Lungs straining, the two unwillingly broke apart, heaving in large gulps of air. Their eyes were locked together, intensity radiating between the both. They had past a point, shifted back to the (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Ben Solo they once were. One hand slid out from underneath her nightgown to rest on her red cheek. A silent question was written in his eyes and (Y/N) with her swollen lips only kissed up the healed scar on his face in response. She wanted this, she wanted him.

Ben lifted his plain black tunic over his head, revealing his toned chest to her and she offered him a small smile before placing her hands just below his collarbones. With a mild push, he lowered himself back onto the bed and (Y/N) slid up in his lap. Leaning down over him, she kissed every scar she could find on his skin. The blaster scar on his side, the lightsaber burn on his left shoulder, the scar on the right side of his face that trailed down into his other shoulder, and every exposed inch in between. Soft whimpers escaped past Ben’s lips as he closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of her kissing his scarred skin. With each noise, she could feel his aura emitting compassion and craving. She could also feel his evident arousal pressing into her inner thigh. With a little smirk she moved up to place a chaste kiss back to his reddened mouth.

“I-I love you. I never s-stopped. I-I love you so much.” Ben choked out, his watering eyes staring up at her with such intensity it left (Y/N) a little more breathless than his words. Silently she combed her fingers through his wild hair, watching the faint tears escape from his eyes, her own eyes watering as well. There had been so much pain in their lives without each other, it was overbearing to think of. There were things she would need to learn to overcome, to forgive him for, all things that were possible down their path of redemption, but she could not fight her feelings any longer. She was not positive how she had survived without him for so long, their fates were so meticulously intertwined it was if they were not meant to be parted at all.

“I may have forgotten but I never stopped either. I knew it the minute I saw you, heard you speak, no matter how hard I fought it, that I loved you. That I still love you.” Her voice was smaller than a whisper as she rested her nose against his, her tears slipping down onto her flushed skin. Ben let out a deep sigh of relief securing her into a sloppy kiss, their faces pressed so close together their tears began to melt together, just as they were.

Still tangled in a messy kiss, he prompted her to sit up to remove her nightgown. Pulling the nightgown over head left her only in her a pair of white lower garments, (Y/N)’s lovely breasts slipping out freely. Panting lowly, Ben moved her to the bed space beside him and lifted himself to his knees to hover over. He placed open mouth kisses to her now exposed skin, carefully paying attention to her scars as well. He started at her right side, the wound she had received because of his men, and then moved to the one on the other side just below her ribcage. The one she had received during a crash landing with Poe back in the early days of their training. He peppered kisses to her hardened nipples, leaving each one with a swirl of his tongue. Ben drifted upwards finding the scar on her neck, the one she had on permanent display from his carelessness, and kissed the healed pink skin.

As they both kissed each of their scars, they realized something profoundly heart wrenching. Most of their scars had been acquired because they had not been together, but none of them were as painful as the heartache they had experienced apart. (Y/N) may not have remembered Ben until twelve days ago but she had been miserable without her past, without him. So much pain that could have been avoided…

(Y/N) moaned with every kiss left behind by Ben, especially when he moved away from her neck and finally returned to her eager lips. He kissed her with a sweltering passion, as if they were teenagers again hiding behind the temple between lessons. Both of them were dizzy in the heat of the moment, drunk on the tingling sensation radiating through their bodies. They were so touch starved, each kiss and lingering touch was supplying them with an everlasting memory. But they both still wanted, needed more. Fisting his inky black curls, (Y/N) pulled Ben away from her lips to focus on her. His eyes were half lidded with love and lust, his sweet whiskey brown eyes seeming a shade darker.

“Ben, please.” She pleaded desperately, her core throbbing in need of attention. He only nodded and moved to remove his dark pants and briefs, his hard cock springing free. His was swollen red, bigger than she remembered, his tip coated lightly in precum. Her thoughts were pulled away as she let out a loud whimper, feeling his fingers graze across her slick coated panties. A small smirk worked its way onto Ben’s face, at how much she yearned for his touch. He leaned down and nibbled at the soft insides of her thighs, pressing soothing kisses behind in the wakes of his bites. His long fingers hooked around the waistband of her panties before he yanked them down her legs.

Ben hissed at the side of her glistening folds, his aura transitioning from want to overwhelmed. (Y/N) could feel it, his painful arousal, his out of control emotions, the Force only adding to the difficulty of the overpowering senses. He had not been this overstimulated since they’re first time together, they both had been. She was affected too, a powerful haze forming around her soul, but she was not coming undone like him. Ben had ignored so many of his emotions for so long and they were all returning at once. He tried to hold his soul together as tears spilled down his reddened cheeks, his breathing sharp.

“Breathe Ben, its okay. I love you.” (Y/N) reminded him placing a shaking hand to his face, bringing him back from the edge of oblivion. He nodded slowly, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. Ben took a staggering breath and regained control of his bleeding emotions. He turned his focus back to her slick coated folds, filling her slowly, both of them moaning loudly. His sheer size was unrivaled and (Y/N) had not experienced it in a long time, now it was her turn to be overwhelmed. Ben lowered himself to hover over her, kissing at her skin waiting patiently for her to adjust.

After a few moments, (Y/N) finally nodded and captured Ben in a kiss, confirming she was ready. Ben began to thrust in and out, the pace slow and intimate. They had slept together before in their late padawans days, but this was different. Each thrust, moan, and wet hot kiss was an apology and an act of forgiveness. The room was quiet despite for the moans and the sound of slick coated skin slapping together. (Y/N) held him as close as humanly possible, lips buried in his neck as they both let out breathy moans at each thrust. “I’m not going to last very long.” Ben tried to laugh, but it came out more strangled than he intended for.

“I won’t either.” (Y/N) sympathized, her hips rolling up to meet his.

“Fuck.” Ben moaned out, (Y/N)’s head falling back to rest against his. With their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed in ecstasy, they continued to fuse together with an unbreakable love. Balancing his weight on one arm, Ben’s right hand dipped down in between their bodies pressing his thumb against (Y/N)’s clit. He heatedly rubbed fast circles bring her closer to her orgasm.With a few more thrusts (Y/N) came with a shout of euphoria, her walls clenching tighter around Ben’s cock. Tears of pleasure slipped down her face as Ben continued to chase his orgasm, riding out her high. Soon after his hips staggered against hers as he came hard, filling her entirely. With a few lazy thrusts, Ben slacked down onto (Y/N), both of them exhausted.

Their teary eyes gazed at each other with such fire, such love, it was impossible not to fall apart completely. They were destined and (Y/N) was determined to help save her soulmate.

“I love you.” They both uttered as they shifted further into one another’s arms, bliss radiating from their auras.

Taglist:

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@thephantomwriter

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#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars #star wars series #star wars imagine #Adam driver x reader

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

Text

Beastie and the Bard

Fire Emblem Three Houses - Dimitri x Reader (Chapter 3)

A symphony has four parts so does this, but it’s split because I’m lazy and didn’t anticipate the minuet to give me so much grief. Sorry for the wait, life is a lot all the time all at once, you know?

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 1 I. Allegro A whooping shout echoed across the canyon, catching like fire upon a pile of dry leaves as the joyous sound spread across the triumphant troops. The bandit chef had fallen to Professor Byleth’s blade. The Blue Lions had won the battle of Zanado.

You felt dizzy, mentally dampened, and a bit confused at first.

“We won?” you asked nobody in particular, voice raised above the din of a few dozen voices talking at once. The man closest to you was smiling, nodding, speaking. You were slow in catching up, but you managed to make out his answer after a moment of focusing. Won, you had won. And then your ears were filled with the deafening sound of relentless noise and rushing blood, a roar of excitement that grew from within your own self.

You had won!

It didn’t happen in a steady turn, but in a sudden, jolting twist as all your focus and combat oriented energy changed to a joy for victory. It made you giddy, practically drunk on jubilance as the tension left your frame. Your head spun with a tipsy sensation of dizziness, a disconnect between mind and body. Some of it must have been the fatigue casting a haze over your mind as you emerged from the focused state of fighting. Past the overwhelming joy, you were aware that exhaustion had crawled deep into your muscles in a way it hadn’t during the practice battle, or even through your vigorous training exercises. It left your limbs in a loose and rubbery state, but not yet burdened with the aching pain you’d undoubtably face later. It made every sensation you experienced spark with particular interest to your racing thoughts, voices made that much louder and the blow of a cool breeze through your sweaty hair that much cooler.

It was similar to the high you felt after managing a difficult piece of music or finally pulling off a tricky sword technique, a swell of pleasant and overwhelming joy. A feeling too big to be contained within your limited body. A wild giddiness.

Oddly, the sun had barely descended past its watchful position straight above. It seemed impossible that hours hadn’t passed since you set out upon the canyon considering all that had happened. Then again, your mind recalled the entire battle as nothing more than a blur, a flurry of sword strikes and shouted commands slipping by in a matter of minutes.

There had been the cold and prickling anticipation as Professor Byleth performed his final inspection and gave orders, a shuddering dread as you lined up against the bandits with weapons that had never tasted blood, the fluttering anticipation when the charge was called, and then a surge of energy, strength filling your body as all you had learned in training took over and you fought your first battle with everything you could.

And now, victory.

You didn’t think about what to do next, sheathing your sword and beginning to move contrary to the tide of men. Towards the front line, searching the dissipating crowd for familiar faces. Or, really, just the one familiar face. Your expression split into a bright smile when you saw him, heedless of the exhaustion. Dimitri’s blond hair was messier than you’d ever seen it, even while training. It caught every drop of sunlight, shining gold even when sticking to his head with sweat, several bits swept away at chaotic angles. There was blood on his armor, his cheeks were spotted with a red flush from exertion, and his expression was a bit worn. But, most importantly, he was unharmed.

Right then, in your half mad mindstate, you felt a blind rush of affection. Excitement. Victory. Skipping on feet that felt lighter than air, you rushed past the few scattering ranks of your small force. Dimitri saw you, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by throwing your arms around his shoulders, tilting onto the tips of your toes. Luckily, he was used to moving with a spearman’s firm stance, which was the only thing that stopped both of you from toppling to the ground. The recklessness of the action hardly registered. Impulsive and excited and bubbly with the vigor of life itself, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. It happened so quickly that the sensations barely registered; a whiff of the musky masculine scent of his sweat, the smooth warmth of his cheek against your lips, your hand brushing the back of his hair when your arms met around his neck; and then you were dancing away, smiling with a mouth on the cusp of releasing a bout of delighted laughter.

“We did it!” you said, uncaring of the childish sound of your victorious words. The fact that you had fought and won was more than the victory of battle, serving as solid proof that you were meant to be among the knights and students, that you were right in choosing your own fate. It meant that your father had been wrong. It meant you were supposed to be here. At Dimitri’s side, maybe. “I can hardly believe it. I was so nervous at first, but we did it! I did it!”

“That you did,” Dimitri said in a slightly stiff voice, a measured contradiction to your manic excitement. He had pressed his hand to his cheek, right over where you had kissed him. Was that displeasure you read in his widened eyes, or disgust? Maybe surprise, being attacked was an awfully good reason to lose composure. And more, was his face that red before, or had the color darkened his fair complection further? His hand dropped, being used in a casual gesture towards you. “And with energy to spare, I see,” Dimitri teased. Although he still seemed a little flustered, his blue eyes twinkled with laughter.

You giggled in response, a giddy and nervous sound. The situation was beginning to sink in. Firstly, it probably broke a dozen different rules of etiquette to have thrown yourself at him, and that was before you factored in the unspoken rules of friendship and boundaries his status afforded him. Not to mention the battlefield you stood upon, or the uncomfortable weight of the gazes of the remaining soldiers who lingered, or the fact that Professor Byleth stood nearby speaking to a knight, or that not even a dozen feet away laid the unceremoniously fallen corpses of the bandit chief and his main guard in puddles of drying blood-

No. You forced yourself not to look at them, unwilling to consider the dead in conjunction with the way you felt now. Instead you focused on Dimitri and the thread of enthusiasm that had brought you to him, refusing to allow embarrassment or doubt to make you fold now that you had already committed.

“I’m just so happy that we won!” you said as way of justification. “I never thought that I’d be able to do something like this… And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help so I wanted to thank you because if it hadn’t been for all that training I think I totally would have choked, but because of you I didn’t, so...” You let the thought drop there, your disorganized words rushed together just as badly as your thoughts. And then, what else was there to say? The jittery excitement was still thudding in your heart and making your hands shake. You wanted to apologize, but you also didn’t feel sorry, so you chose instead to settle for the middle ground. “Anyway, I… I should probably go back and help.” You gestured vaguely behind yourself, smiling like a fool for all that you should have at least tried to feel shame. “Um, see you, Dimitri! And you, Professor!” you called with a jaunty wave before turning on your heel. If eyes followed you, or if either responded, you didn’t know, and you were far too shy to check as you hurried up the steps to the top of the canyon where the horses and knights were all congregated.

Embarrassment was easy in coming, but found little traction in the thrill that filled you as well. Victory was exciting in a way no song had ever properly described. Maybe more than any song could. And then there was the way your body buzzed, the warmth tickling your lips, and the way your heart pounded when you thought of how bold you’d been.

Victory truly was sweet.

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 2 II. Adagio

Victory, as it turned out, could hurt.

When Lord Lonato fell, it was with an awful, hollow stillness that came in the stead of fanfare or glory. This did not feel like victory, or at least any sort of victory you could be pleased with. Ashe waved away any of your attempts to console or help him, returning to the town alone to find his brother and sister. Even though you desperately yearned to, you didn’t dare follow him alone, knowing that you would be rejected as the enemy.

In the eyes of the townspeople, you were the enemy.

So you watched Ashe go, heart heavy and aching. It wasn’t Ashe’s rejection that stung, not exactly. What hurt the most was the knowledge that you, right then, were useless to him. Nothing you did or said would be able to help him, your words would fall on ears made deaf as they strained to hear the voices of the dead. Nothing you could do would ease his pain or set his world back to rights.

Just like your mother. You could picture her clearly right then, standing in a beautiful black dress above your father’s grave. Weeping because of her true, singular love for the man and the gaping emptiness in her heart that would never be filled without him. Like Ashe, your mother hadn’t wanted your help. To her, you had been nothing more than a reminder of what she could have had, what she was going to have before he died. That day, you lost your mother, too.

Would Ashe be the same as she had been? Would you be a symbol forever reminding him of the death of the man who raised and cared for him? Would he stay in a state of frigid misery, bound by the lingering hold of the dead and unable to move forward? You had only known him for a few months, yet the idea made your eyes hot and teary, a terrible feeling clenching in your chest.

No. You would figure out a way to prevent that from happening, you would not fail again.

Or so you swore to yourself, right then.

Turning away from the empty forrest road and that tremulous silent promise, you set out to find Dimitri. You didn’t know why. Certainly not to ambush him with a hug and kiss on the cheek as you had at the end of the last battle, or anything resembling any sort of excitement. For comfort, maybe. Maybe to ask for advice about Ashe. Then again, you weren’t sure you really wanted to supply a reason for desiring his company. More and more you’d begun seeking it out unprompted. You were friends, and that was definitely sacred and worth pursing. He shouldn’t have been special beyond that, but he was. And you didn’t like to think of exactly why that was, so you didn’t.

The knights were all packing up to make the return trip to the monastery, not losing a second of daylight in their meticulous routine. It struck you as horrifically callous. The church with all their men and might will come to kill your fathers and brothers and then leave within the hour, leaving naught a trace behind. But that was foolish, a childish fancy given teeth as you tried to reconcile what had happened with what you wished would have happened. It was kinder and more pragmatic to leave as quickly as possible and allow the people to grieve in private.

That was the reality.

You were better off with the indignant stance that Lord Lanato was the one at fault for the deaths. His own foolishness was at the cost of the men you had killed. But in the same breath of that scorn could you smell the blood, feel it flaking off of your hands like flakes of rust.

No.

You didn’t want to think about that, you couldn’t let yourself. A knight didn’t weep for those they killed if it was necessary. Those words were a lesson from your sword teacher in Fhirdiad, a knight who had retired after partaking in one too many of the ugly skirmishes that had popped up in the wake of King Lambert’s death. His eyes were haunted when he told you that it was important to know when to care, and when not to.

Another thought that was best left alone.

So you focused on your search efforts. Unfortunately, while dodging through the collected chaos you realized that Magdred Way’s tree lined paths weren’t great for visibility, even without that supernatural fog. Not only was your heart heavy with thoughts you cared little to entertain and you couldn’t find Dimitri, but everybody looked so sad as well. Your friends who should have been proud of themselves for achieving victory without any casualties were wearing grave masks and curled postures with slumped shoulders, the knights grim faced and terse. Professor Byleth was the only one seemingly unaffected by it all, pointing you in the right direction to find Dimitri without expression or comment, trailed by an especially and uncharacteristically severe-looking Catherine.

Probably, you should have been concerned by that sight alone. But you weren’t, not really, because once you knew where to look Dimitri was easy to spot. He was tucked in the shadow at the edge of the trees, sitting on the convenient seat of a rock with his head bowed and hands folded in something like reverence. The cheerless image brought you up short, the words you had intended to use to call to him dying on your lips.

Pain clung to him, weighed him down with something more than than the cheap sorrow you’d been fighting off. You could easily recognize the way it crowned his head in invisible lead and sank deep and heavy into his bones. It was, after all, a familiar sight.

Holding completely motionless a yard or so away from him, you briefly considered turning around and leaving Dimitri be. People who looked like that had never fared well with your intervention. But you couldn’t. He just looked too sad and lonely. So you approached him with soft steps, feeling the hesitancy of regret before you even spoke.

“Dimitri?” you asked softly, uncertain. “Are you all right?”

He tensed up at hearing your voice, his posture straightening out with a snap as if to cover for the momentary weakness. Red rimmed his eyes, although you thought it was more of an effect of fatigue than tears. It complimented the bluish shadows beneath.

“Yes, of course. I was just resting a moment,” he told you, his expression and voice carefully controlled. “Did you need something?”

Any person in the world would be able to tell that he was feigning indifference. Pain was stretched thin in the forcibly casual tone of his voice like pottery held too tightly, seconds away from cracking. It hurt, strangely, that he would put on an act around you, but you didn’t dare think too hard about that sharp stab of pain or why you’d feel it. More than anything, you were worried, your heart set aching anew as you realized that his sorrow far overcame your own.

“No, I don’t. You looked...” Despairing. Agonizing. Like the weight of the world was crushing you and I don’t understand why. “Upset,” you said lamely. An underlying awkwardness edged your voice, created by your influx of emotions you suddenly had no idea what to do with. “I can… I can go if you want to be alone.”

“It’s not that-” Dimitri began with more false pretense, only to cut off whatever else he was going to add and let out a heavy breath, rubbing a hand over his face and allowing his posture to relax. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I wanted a moment to collect my thoughts.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

“No,” he said firmly. Then, a moment later in a softer tone, “I don’t know.”

“This battle was… It was hard,” you said, an understatement if there ever was one, but Dimitri seemed to understand all the same.

“It was, and I know that what we did was necessary, but... I can’t help but wish that we could have handled that differently, that there was a different way to settle things without such violent measures.” His voice lowered even further, head bowing. “But if it wasn’t necessary, then what we did...”

Dimitri allowed the silence to speak for him.

“I think I understand,” you said, although you weren’t quite sure if you did. A part of your mind rebelled at the idea that violence wasn’t a way resolve conflict, although another wondered what such peace would look like. “But… We just have to keep going, don’t we? Maybe there’s another way, but this… We can’t let it define us, we just have to keep going forward and try to do better in the future, right?”

“Don’t you find it wrong?” Dimitri asked, his question given passion and intensity as he suddenly stood. The louder voice as well as the dramatic physical shift pulled you up entirely short, sending you a step back. “Does it not bother you to indiscriminately take the lives of those opposing us without even questioning if we could achieve the same goals without death?” All of the dispassionate pain you had seen before was gone, lit to a blaze in the soft blue of his eyes.

“I… I hadn’t thought very much about it,” you answered. The words came honestly in the face of being so startled, along with the pang of guilt that hit you from the accusatory nature of the question. “If it’s asked of me and my loyalty… No-” You hesitated, trying to think of a better way to phrase your thoughts, a prettier way. “If something I’m doing is protecting the lives of those I care for, I… I believe that it’s right,” you told him carefully. But, beneath the searching weight of his gaze, you wondered if that was only something to say. Like a poem or song. In truth, you hadn’t given the nature of battle or what you did to your enemies any sort of deeper thought. You didn’t want to. A hero couldn’t be a killer, even if they killed. And wasn’t it the same for you? For him? You had to believe that.

“What if the enemy believes the same?” Dimitri pushed urgently. “If all they’re doing is defending the people they care for in a conflict they have no say in?”

That gave you further pause, your eyebrows furrowing and chapped bottom lip retreating between your teeth as you tried to find an answer. You saw his argument, felt it just as clearly in the conflicted pain in his eyes. Doubt was poisoning him. Comprehension was sharp in that moment, an understanding of something you had been missing in the months you had known him. Dimitri’s capacity to care, something you admired so much, was a double edged sword. Great strength and great vulnerability. Of course it was. You’d seen it before, the agony of caring just a bit too much.

“I’d be glad,” you finally responded, slightly indignant in your desire to stand against his questioning. “If I died because of something I believed in, I would not regret it. I hope that anyone I fight feels the same.”

“And the ones they leave behind?” Dimitri asked, his voice softer, the rigidity of anger gone from this question. You met his eyes. Pure, perfectly pigmented powder blue. The color of reliability and honor, but also the color of melancholy and cold. Now they were needful. Looking for an answer you didn’t have, that probably didn’t exist. “What of them?”

You had heard that question before.

Any and all desire to argue against him bled out of you, leaving the overwhelming swell of post-battle exhaustion and anguish to hit you in full force, so stark it was nearly physical. “I don’t know,” you answered, your voice even softer than his own.

Dimitri’s eyes closed as he turned away, dissatisfied with your answer. “There really is no answer, is there?”

“Maybe there is,” you said, a weak attempt at hopeful optimism against his stormy despair. Dimitri didn’t disagree, but he didn’t have to do anything other than allow the words to deflate and disintegrate in the relative silence of your little bubble on the edge of the trees. And with them, an argument you couldn’t help but feel you had lost terribly.

“We should return to the others. Professor Byleth will want to speak to us all when we return, disturbing news had been discovered.” Dimitri said, his eyes opening and posture straightening out. The voice he used now was firm, but empty. Closed off once more. He did not wait for an answer before brushing past you, or look to ensure you were following.

“Right,” you agreed reluctantly, uselessly, following him on wooden legs.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe dimitri #FE3H #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #dimitri x reader #dimitri #my writing #like i said i never anticipated to this monastery pre timeskip stuff but if i'm writing it i have to bc these ideas #still exist #anyway i have class in like two minutes i shouldn't be posting #but yeet #beastie and the bard

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gingerpeachtae · 5 years

Text

Concentric [11]

masterlist

Words: 10.1k (😅)

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: dom!jk says hi again; some sexy times (nothing explicit)

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: 😅 😅😅 over 10k... eye- lol its a wild ride of a chapter... pls engoy!

“Secret tunnel! Secret tunnel! Through the mountain!

“Secret!

“Secret tunnel! Yeah!”

“If you sing that song… One. More. Fucking. Time. I’m going to feed you to the next quigta we come across.”

You could just picture the annoyed expression gracing his face and you snickered to yourself. If he wasn’t holding you up by your legs, you have no doubt that he would have rubbed a hand down his face and shot you a nice glare.

“Oh, well I’m sorry that since we still haven’t found a way out from this lovely cave, I need to distract myself from our impending death where our friends never find our rotting corpses.”

Jungkook sighed in a way that could only be described as aggressive as he readjusted your position on his back. “Ugh, you’re so dramatic. Why does it have to be that song?”

“Because it’s a classic? And it fits our situation?” You leaned forward to rest your chin against your arm that was loosely wrapped around his neck. “Also, I better not hear you disrespect Avatar again or I will unleash hell.”

“Alright little human, let’s settle down and not say things we aren’t capable of.”

“Hey! I’m being serious!” You tried saying it as hard as you could, but a hint of pout managed to creep its way into your voice.

“Mhmm. Sure you are.” Jungkook laughed. “And going off whatever you’ve been singing, I’m going to say that ‘Ablatar’ thing is horrible.”

You slowly lifted your head off your arm to regard the male you couldn’t see.

Welcome to hell, buddy.

You unwound your arms, lightly gliding your fingers against his neck as you did so. The slight touch of your fingertips ghosting across his skin caused a shiver to run down his body that you couldn’t see but definitely felt. You smiled to yourself as you moved your hands lower to hover above his torso. To keep your balance, though, you had to tighten your legs around his waist and lean your front further into his back.

“Wh-what are you doing?” His voice came out breathy.

“I told you what would happen if you disrespected Avatar again…”

With that, you attacked.

Digging your fingers into his sides, you began to viciously tickle the male. Immediately, his entire body tensed up for a heartbeat before wiggling and squirming violently. All the while, you cackled manically.

“Ahh! St-stop! Y/N! Fuck-ahh-ing stop!” In an attempt to dislodge your hands, Jungkook threw his elbows out wide.

His efforts were futile, though, because you were determined, dammit. Nobody gets away with insulting the great Avatar the Last Airbender. Not in this house cave. Not on your watch.

“This… is… what… you… get!” You half-screeched, half-laughed.

With his elbows lifted, you changed course to attack the delicate flesh just below his armpits. The sensitive area made Jungkook yell even louder. Abruptly, he let go of your thighs, letting your body drop. With a yelp, you stopped tickling him and tried to blindly grab at his arms so that you wouldn’t fall on your ass.

Also, you had no idea what was beneath you and being penetrated by a stalagmite was really not on your bucket list.

Unfortunately, you didn’t manage to grasp the male’s arms in time, so you fell to the cold, damp ground in a heap of splayed limbs. Groaning, you rolled to your side and began massaging your poor bottom.

As you rubbed the tender meat that was your bruised peach, you heard Jungkook breathing heavily above you.

“That… that was mean!” He whined, still gasping for breath.

You rolled your eyes while snorting. “So is disregarding Avatar and doubting me.”

You heard him shift closer and you stilled, praying that he wouldn’t retaliate and tickle you back. You would be at a severe disadvantage in fighting him off since you were below him and you couldn’t see.

Maybe I’ll get lucky and hit him in the balls if I flail enough…

As you were mentally planning your defensive maneuvers, you suddenly felt arms snake underneath you. Then, you were easily heaved up. The action made you yelp again, which in turn caused Jungkook to chuckle as he placed you over his shoulder.

“Let me down, you heathen!” You gave his body a smack.

Your eyes widened when your hand, instead of his back as you anticipated, met the firm plumpness of what had to have been Jungkook’s booty.

“Oh, so you would rather walk around… in the dark… on your own?” You could hear the teasing smirk seeping into his voice.

You huffed before placing your elbows on his back and resting your face in your hands. “No.”

“Good girl.” He gave your own butt two gentle pats and set out walking again.

“Hmmpf. This is so not as comfortable as before, I just want that to be known.”

“Too bad, sweetheart,” he said lightly. “This is your punishment for playing around. Deal with it.”

“Ugh, whatever. Just find an exit, would you? I don’t want to look at your nasty butt for long.”

“First, my butt is not nasty. It’s spectacular. Second, you can’t even see my ass right now so be quiet.”

“Its ugliness penetrates the dark.” You began to tap your hands against his butt as if the cheeks were drums.

You had to do something to keep yourself entertained.

Jungkook just laughed and shook his head, continuing his march through the cave as he muttered about how it was at least better than that atrocious (amazing) song.

“It’s been four hours!” Tae gripped his hair and pulled it in frustration. “They should be back by now!”

Jin walked over and placed a gentle hand on Tae’s shoulder to get him to stop stressfully pacing. The younger Saeni turned and clung to his brother’s frame, who began to rub Tae’s back soothingly.

“Maybe they got lost on the way back?” Jiae spoke up softly.

Hobi scoffed and crossed his arms, the metal from all his blades clinking. “Kookie? Lost? That would never happen.”

“Hey, you don’t have to dismiss her like that. She’s just trying to help.” Jimin frowned and stepped up behind the lilac-haired girl in a protective manner.

The kiela’s spy raised a single brow. “I didn’t dismiss her. I just stated a fact we all know.”

Namjoon was quick to step between his brothers, his yellow eyes flashing with warning. “Calm down. Your bickering isn’t helping.”

Jiae turned and placed a hand on Jimin’s bicep, murmuring that Hobi wasn’t being rude and that he should listen to Namjoon.

Jimin met Hobi’s eyes over their leader’s shoulder and sighed before lowering his head. “Sorry, hyung.”

Then, they heard the unmistakable sounds of someone approaching. With a jolt, they all swiveled their heads in the direction of the footsteps, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it was their missing friends.

But it was only Suho, Mingi, and Chungha returning from their search. As the trio slowed their jogging to a walk, the kiela and Jiae still looked to them with held breaths and hopeful eyes… but the court guards shook their heads. No sign of you or Jungkook.

With a tiny yell of frustration, Jimin then looked toward Yoongi, who was lounging on the ground with his back against a tree. “Hyung, can’t you find them?”

His pink eyes slowly rose to meet the half-Saeni’s brown ones. “No… I’ve tried but I can’t feel Kook’s energy. It’s like nothing’s there.”

“The draikensu…” Tae looked up to Jin’s face, his blue eyes wide and glossy with sudden fear. “What if they-”

The eldest was quick to shush him, not wanting the worried Saeni to consider such things.

“Kook wouldn’t let any of those bastards do shit,” Hobi said with conviction. “Honestly, neither would Y/N.”

Most of the kiela nodded their heads in agreement, but Jimin ran a hand through his apricot locks. “But then, where are they!?”

“He said he wanted to take Y/N to the cave we passed by yesterday.” The mint-haired magic user stood up and brushed off his pants.

Tae whipped his head toward Yoongi, hope dancing in his eyes, while Namjoon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before replying. “And you decided to wait until now to mention that.”

Yoongi only shrugged in response.

Namjoon mumbled a curse under his breath directed at the male before trotting over to where his mace rested on the earthy ground next to his sleeping mat. Once the heavy weapon was securely strapped behind his back, he addressed the other Saeni and ordered them to quickly gather their things.

“So, you’re telling me that there’s this creature… with red eyes and large wings… and your people call it Mothman?”

After approximately twenty or so minutes of you non-stop drumming on Jungkook’s butt cheeks and the male complaining that his rear was going numb, he finally let you return to his back. You eagerly climbed up, glad to not have to hold your head up to keep from passing out anymore.

“Mhmm!” You rapidly nodded your head in excitement and leaned your face forward, so it was closer to his. The metal of his earrings touched your neck and you briefly recoiled from how cold they were before leaning back in. “And it’s supposed to be able to fly faster than a hundred miles an hour!”

“Is that… fast?”

Oof, right. He probably has no idea what that measurement equates to.

“Yes, it’s very fast. Super fast. Like ZOOM fast!” You emphasized your words by making a weird upward slashing gesture with your hand.

“Zoom… fast…?” He whispered in a confused, yet amused, tone. “I just don’t understand why you call it Mothman.”

You shrugged and started to swing your legs, praying you wouldn’t accidentally ram your foot into a rock formation. “It’s big, grey-brown, and has massive wings. Allegedly, it’s like an abnormally large, humanoid moth. Hence, Mothman.”

Jungkook made a noise of slight disgust. “Sounds like something that should be squished.”

“Hey!” You slapped your hand against his chest. “Let Mothman live in peace! It just wants to fly around and be a happy, lil moth!”

“You said it’s supposed to be taller than Namjoon…”

“And your point?”

“That’s not ‘lil,’” he said pointedly.

You hummed, thinking, before replying. “Eh, it can be.”

“How in Illai’s name can that ever be considered little?”

“Compared to Godzilla, he’s a very smol bean,” you responded matter-of-factly.

“Who?”

“Godzilla! He’s this big, spiky, powerful lizard thing! And I mean really big. Like seventy Namjoons stacked on top of each other big.”

“Seventy Namjoons�� whoa…”

You giggled at his wonderous tone. “Yup. He’s a big boy.”

“You know who else is a big boy?”

You rolled your eyes.

This guy…

You decided to mess with him a bit.

“Namjoon? I mean we are using him as a measurement tool.”

“What? No. Try again.”

“Hmmm… Jin? He’s got those wide shoulders.”

You felt him release a deep breath. “Try again.”

“Tae? He’s a sweetie pie but can probably get down to business, if you know what I mean.” You wiggled your brows, disregarding that he was not facing you.

“No.” You heard a sliver of annoyance begin to creep into his voice, making you snicker internally.

“Well, Hobi dresses like an NSFW enthusiast, so-”

“Not him.” He paused for a second before adding, “And what does that even mean?”

“Not Safe for Work.”

“What the-”

“If I need to explain what that means, then you’re probably too young to need to know my dear child,” you informed with a grin.

Laughing at his blubbering, frustrated attempts at protesting your statement, you suddenly gasped and tightened your hold on him in fake realization.

“Oh, I know who you’re talking about! It’s Yoongi! He radiates big dick energy.”

With a long, sharp inhale that signaled he was at the end of his patience with you, he slowly let the air out of his lungs. “I’ll give you one last try.”

You hummed, pretending to think hard before lifting your shoulders and dropping them. “There’s nobody else that comes to mind.”

“You really love being difficult, don’t you?” Jungkook huffed, which made you laugh, the sound echoing off the cavern walls.

“What can I say?” You teased, sending a puff of air to the back of his head to ruffle his hair. “You’re just not ‘big boy’ material Coco.”

“That’s not what you said before your first sparing match.” The males voice was laced with knowing.

It was your turn to protest; whining that for the last time, those were Tae’s words, not yours.

He only made a skeptical noise in response.

You opened your mouth to defend your honor more, but instead squealed in happiness when you saw a small dot of white appear far in front of you.

“You really think they’re okay?” Tae asked his mint-haired brother while brushing his damp locks out of his face.

Luckily, the rain had let up to the point where it was only drizzling now. It wasn’t enough to make Yoongi bother to convert the magic shield he had placed over the camp into individual ones for each party member as they made their way to the cave, though it was still enough to get their clothes and hair a little wet.

The magic user turned to look at the grey-haired Saeni, who was usually so aloof and exploding with joy, but now filled to the brim with worry for you and their youngest brother. Dark eyebrows drawn close together, sharp blue eyes downcast, hands fiddling with each other. Yoongi knew that both you and Jungkook were extremely close to Tae, so he could understand why the male was worried sick. The older Saeni took in Tae’s wilted appearance and sighed before subtly waving his fingers. They briefly glowed a light, mint blue as his magic placed an invisible barrier over Tae’s head that kept the lazy rain off and sent a gentle warmth down.

To other magic users, it wasn’t the most “responsible” or “proper” use of his magic. They would have thought it was below them to do such a thing, but Yoongi didn’t give a shit. He just wanted his little brother to feel better. Even if it was only by a little bit.

“Like Hobi said, they wouldn’t let anything happen. To themselves or each other.”

Tae looked at is brother and gave him a small smile and nod, really hoping those words were proven true.

Yoongi then saw a blur of orange walk up beside him and waited for Jimin to ask yet again.

“Can you try just one more time hyung?”

Yoongi knew it was useless. He had already tried to locate Jungkook through their kiela bond numerous times and each attempt came back empty. But he nodded and did it again anyway. Hands glowing once more, Yoongi closed his eyes and concentrated. Trying to focus in on his brother’s energy and location… but got nothing. Not even a whisper or a trace. Releasing the air from his lungs, he opened his eyes and looked into Jimin’s brown orbs, not saying anything. Just shook his head slightly. The apricot male groaned in response and ran a hand through his hair, averting his eyes from Yoongi’s sorry ones.

Jimin’s chest began to heave in panic as he began to spout out how he had told Y/N to stay behind because he was worried something like this would happen.

“Hyung!”

Yoongi’s head snapped up toward Namjoon, who was gesturing at him to come to the front of the pack. Leaving a panicking Jimin to be consoled by the others, the mint-haired Saeni jogged forward to meet his leader. As he approached, his eyes widened as he took in the mass of fallen rocks.

“That’s why you can’t feel him, right? Your magic can’t reach that far underground.” Namjoon said tentatively.

Yoongi nodded. “Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do now? Dig those idiots out?”

Namjoon shook his head as the others finally arrived at the collapsed entrance, gaping at the massive pile of rock.

Crossing his arms and walking up to the crumpled entrance, Jin asked the group whether anyone saw another opening that might lead into the system.

When no one spoke up, the eldest released a deep breath and fixated his dark eyes on one Saeni. “What do we do Joon?”

You were practically vibrating as you neared closer and closer to that patch of light.

Please, please, PLEASE be a way out.

Jungkook’s back was comfy and all, but you wanted light for fuck’s sake.

As you got even closer, you were able to make out that it was an opening in the ceiling of the cave, letting in a beam of soft sunlight as well as a tiny waterfall of rainwater.

With a gasp, you pushed at Jungkook’s back and wiggled out from his hold until you were on your feet.

“Y/N!” The male called after you as you went to rush forward.

He shot an arm out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could run ahead and possibly hurt yourself. You still couldn’t see directly in front of you, after all. You could only see that beam of freedom.

“Jungkooooooook!” You whined as you tried to yank your wrist away.

When that didn’t work, you began trying to simply drag the Saeni with you.

The male planted his feet firmly on the cavern floor and tugged you back to him. “Y/N, stop! You still can’t see properly, am I right?”

Throwing your head back with a groan akin to a temper tantrum, you replied, “Yes, you’re right, but what does that matter? It’s right there. Let’s go already!” You reached out and grabbed his hand holding your wrist with your free hand and tried to pull him along again.

“It matters because there’s a bunch of fucking holes in the floor between us and the exit. So, unless you want to enjoy a natural, underground slide, I suggest you wait patiently while I lead you.”

At his words, your body stilled as you pictured yourself taking a plunge down into the rocky bowels of the earth.

“Mhmmm, that’s what I thought. Now, hold my hand and waist and follow me. Slowly.”

You let Jungkook move in front of you then did as he instructed; slipping one hand into his and interlocking your fingers while the other fumbled against his torso until it settled on the tiny curve of his waist. Without a sound, Jungkook reached down with his free hand until it rested over yours lightly touching his side. He gently curled his fingers so that you were forced to grip onto the fabric and straps underneath your palm. Satisfied that you had a firm hold on him, he reminded you to stay close before taking a step forward.

He weaved around all the holes and protruding rock formations, though to you, it just felt like mindless wandering. But, minute by minute, that beam of light came closer and closer. It was basically taunting you.

Come here, baby. I’m ready for you!

Within the next thirty seconds, you were finally ten feet from the light. Squinting, you reckoned that the opening was about eight feet above you. Not very far, but way higher than you could jump up to. Then, you were plunged into brightness.

With a yelp, you quickly squished your eyes closed and threw a hand over them for good measure. “Ah, fuck. MY EYES!”

“Stop being so dramatic and come here so I can hoist you up.”

You peeled your hand away from your face, keeping your eyes tightly closed. Then ever so slowly you opened your lids, still squinting a bit. You were going to mouth off to Jungkook for his comment. He didn’t know what it was like to be in complete darkness then thrown into a ray of fucking sunshine suddenly, but when you saw his good-natured smile you just had to smile back. Crouching down a bit, he let you put one foot into his cupped hands while your arms went to his shoulders for balance as he easily lifted you up.

“Don’t drop me Coco.” You warned the male.

“For Exia’s sake, I’m not going to drop your ass.” He huffed and rolled his green eyes before his expression morphed into a pout. “And why aren’t you calling me Kookie?”

You looked down at him in confusion, tilting your head to the side but being careful not to knock into the rock beside your head. “You… told me not to call you that?”

A blush took over his face as he stammered out, “Y-you don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” You breathed out as you slowly eased your head up and out of the opening.

Hissing at having a full barrage of light attacking your eye balls, you squeezed your eyes shut again until you felt like you could peek out without dying. With your eyelids half-closed, you settled your hands on the ground by your head and told Jungkook to give you a boost up as you pushed with your arms. With an awkward squirm from your lower body, you heaved yourself all the way out of the cave and on to the forest floor. Rolling over to your back, you took in a deep breath and let your limbs splay out. Seconds later, you heard a grunt and you looked back to the opening in time to see Jungkook pulling himself out of the cave. Taking after you, he flopped down on the earth beside you, though unlike you, he wasn’t breathing heavily from exertion.

“I, uh, said you could call me that, but you were really sleepy at the time. It was right before the first quigta… I guess you were more out of it than I realized, but um, yeah, you can call me Kookie… if you want…”

“Wow. I don’t remember that conversation at all, I must have been totally out of it.” You laughed and lolled your head to the side to meet his eyes, but he was staring straight at the sky. “Honestly, I’m kinda partial to Coco at this point, but I guess I can pepper Kookie into my vocab from now on…”

“Okay.” He tried to say it nonchalantly, like he didn’t care one way or the other, but you didn’t miss the tiny smile that teased at the corners of his lips.

Cute.

Your eyes widened at the thought and you quickly rolled your head to look up at the sky and leaves too.

You are not going there, Y/N. You are not going to think he’s cute.

It was one thing to think he was hot and attractive, but cute? That shit was borderline crush territory and you most definitely did not want to go there. You already received verbal confirmation that he wasn’t attracted to you, so you did not need yet another useless pining situation on your hands. You sat up suddenly, which caused Jungkook to turn his head toward you questioningly. You just pretended to crack your back before standing up and looking at the scenery around you. All you could see was an endless green forest that was collecting and dripping rivulets of rainwater.

“Where are we?”

Jungkook sat up and rested his forearms against his knees, taking a look around as well. “No idea.”

Fantastic.

Yoongi froze when he felt a slight nudge of Jungkook’s energy on the edge of his magic. He had been randomly turning the magical radar on and off since they left the collapsed entrance, but he swore he felt something right before he turned it off again. Though he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure because he didn’t want to give the others false hope. As the rest continued walking ahead to try to find another opening into the underground system, Yoongi slowed his steps with a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he let his magic flare up yet again. Fingers glowing, he reached out with his mind to search where that nudge came from.

Then, all at once, it was as if Jungkook appeared like a marker on a map. There was no mistaking it now. He must have resurfaced.

Yoongi found his brother.

He sucked in a breath, mint hair rustling as he whipped his head up, petal pink eyes shining. “Wait, guys! I got him! I feel Kook!”

You hummed your favorite song as you walked through the dense forest, brushing branches out of your face and tilting your head to follow the occasional bird that flew by.

You heard a series of laughter erupting to your right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tae, Hobi, and Kookie still running around the group and weaving between trees as they played their version of tag. You say their version because instead of a gentle shoulder tap to switch who was “it,” those boys were straight up tackling each other into trees or on to the ground.

Boys will be boys, I guess.

Yesterday, after popping out of the ground like a flower and Jungkook replying that he had no idea where the two of you were, you started to wonder if you would ever find your way back to the others. Fortunately, they found you.

Illai knew how far you traveled while underground, so you could be anywhere at this point. You started to picture your Tarzan-esque future with Jungkook and shuddered at the thought of the male doing the Tarzan yell while swinging through the trees. It was such a disturbing thought that you broke out into a somewhat deranged laughter. The image of Jungkook yelling as he swooped through the trees in a loincloth being too much for your chickpea brain to handle at the moment.

“You good?” You heard the subject of your thoughts ask you curiously.

You deeply inhaled through your nose and let out a few hyperventilated breaths as you tried to calm yourself down and rid your brain of those mental pictures. “Hooooo. Okay, yeah. Just thought of something I never want to think of ever again.” With one last big exhale, you looked toward the male. “How are you not worried about finding the kiela?”

He maintained his lazy posture, just shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands briefly. “Eh, by now Yoongi should be able to find our location through the kiela bond. Might as well just wait for them here.”

“Just… wait… for them?”

He hummed his confirmation, which made you plop back down on the ground. No point in standing if you’re just going to be waiting around. A cool breeze rushed past your face as you did so, causing some of your hair to tease your cheekbones. You brushed it back in place before laying down on your back. You squirmed slightly as the cold, damp ground seeped into your clothes, but with the sun shining down on you, you couldn’t find the shits to give.

“How long do you reckon until they get here?”

“Meh, I’m not going to worry about it. They’ll get here when they get here. Let’s just enjoy the quiet while we still can.”

It took them about three and a half hours, at least you think. You really had no clue no long you and Jungkook had been laying down, motionless and soundless. If anyone had been watching from afar, they probably would’ve thought you two were dead as hell.

All you know was that after a phat minute of waiting, you suddenly heard an elated yell consisting of you and Jungkook’s names. You raised your head with a groan but was suddenly squashed back down by a tall boy with grey hair.

“T-Tae?” The male looked up from where he was smushed against your chest and you saw his big, boxy smile that you loved dearly. “TaeTae!”

You threw your arms around the male and smothered him with cheek kisses.

“For Exia’s sake, you’d think you were long lost lovers or some shit.” You heard Jungkook grumble.

His voice made Tae wiggle out of your arms and run to latch himself on his brother. “Kookie!”

You smiled fondly at the two Saeni hugging each other when you yanked upright without warning and pulled into another bone-crushing hug.

“I was so worried!” You felt Jimin bury his head into the crook of your neck.

You rubbed his back soothingly, trying not to giggle. “I’m alright, Slim Jim. Kookie took good care of me.”

You looked up and locked eyes with the green-eyed male and smiled, though it was quickly knocked off your face when another body slammed into you and Jimin with a cry.

Stumbling back a bit, you grunted but didn’t even bother looking to see who it was because there was only one other person in the kiela who would have jumped on you like that.

“Hi there, Hobi.” You gasped out while laughing and trying to keep your balance.

“Hey, kids. Glad you’re safe and all that nice shit.” You heard somewhere over your left shoulder.

You snorted. “Thanks, Mr. Sparkle Hands. Glad you found us and all that nice shit.”

Finally, Jimin and Hobi released you and went over to greet Jungkook. You saw them grasp each other’s forearms before pulling into a bro-hug.

Why do so many guys hug like that? Is it instinctual?

You chuckled as you observed their reunion. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of two males standing on the outskirts, watching everything unfold with relieved faces. You turned and walked over, smiling and nodding at Jiae and her guards as you passed them on the way.

When you were a few feet from Namjoon and Jin, the latter surprised you by reaching out and tugging you into a short hug, voicing how he was happy that you and Jungkook were okay.

You pulled back and grinned at him. “Thanks, Papa.”

The raven-haired Saeni sent you a smile back and nodded once before leaving to go see his youngest brother. After Jin stepped around you, you turned to Namjoon and did your best to mimic the forearm grasping hand shake thing with confidence. The Saeni just lightly laughed and pulled you into a brief hug as well.

“Hopefully you didn’t run into too much trouble,” he said with warm yellow eyes.

You just shrugged and looked over your shoulder, eyes landing on the male with light green eyes and burgundy hair before murmuring, “It wasn’t too bad.”

Nobody had wanted to walk anymore after that, so you had decided to just set up camp where they found you and Jungkook. You had settled down on your mat (Jimin had grabbed and carried your things while Tae had taken Jungkook’s), feeling exhaustion take over your body and mind. It had been a long and eventful day, to say the least. With Tae on one side of you and Jungkook on the other, you had been ready and eager to get a good night’s sleep. That plan had been thrown out the window maybe two hours later, when Jimin woke and began freaking out about how he felt something strange. His outburst effectively roused everyone up in an instant. After speaking with Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jiae, they all concluded that he was feeling a pull toward a draeva, something he had obviously never experienced before. Once informed of that news, you had too much excitement flooding through you to go back to sleep. There would be no more mindless wandering! And maybe you’d be able to find his father’s draeva fast, since Jimin had a vague idea as to which direction to go in.

And that’s how the group was travelling now. After completing your morning training with sluggish movements, everyone had packed their things and set out with Jimin acting as the compass.

Your eyes darted over to where Jimin was walking with Jiae, her three guards trailing directly behind them like hawks circling overhead.

Geez, they really need to relax. Let loose with some drinks or get laid or something.

Although Jimin was trying to pay attention to Jiae and be involved in their conversation, you could tell that he wanted to play with his brothers. The way he glanced over every time one of them screamed in joy or frustration with a longing look on his face was a dead giveaway if you’d ever seen one.

With an amused shake of your head, you walked past the guards and began strolling next to them, giving them both a small wave when they saw you approach.

“Why don’t you go hang out with them, Slim Jim? I can tell you want to.”

His face flushed, and he ran a hand through his hair as he stammered, “N-no, it’s fine. I really don’t want to.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you do.”

“But I don’t want to leave Jiae alone…”

The lilac-haired girl began to defiantly say, “I’ll be fine! You don’t hav-”

“She won’t be alone, dummy. I’ll stay with her.” You tilted your chin in the direction the boys were running. “Now hurry up and go.”

He sent you a grateful look and ran off to join his brothers, who screamed in elation at his arrival.

Those boys… You thought as you watched them act like fools.

Adorable fools, but still fools nonetheless.

Jiae giggled at them then turned her eyes on you, her pale blue eyes bright and wisps of her lilac hair flying in the breeze. “Thank you, Y/N. I kept trying to tell him I would be fine by myself, but he wouldn’t listen!”

“Yeah, he can be a stubborn pain in the ass like that sometimes.” You laughed before giving her a serious look. “But if you do want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll yeet myself outta here.”

She was quick to hook her arm through yours, tethering you to her. “No! I’ve been wanting to talk to you actually…”

You sent her a half smile and nodded, already knowing why. “About Jimin.”

Because why else would you want to talk to me?

Her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head with a tiny grin. “Nah, not about that tangerine head. We really haven’t gotten the chance to know each other yet, so I was hoping we could, you know… get to know each other finally.

You stared at her, looking to see if she was telling the truth. When you saw that her face was genuine, you blinked at her a couple times.

Huh… really wasn’t expecting that.

“Sure, I’d like that,” you said.

So, you talked. Everything from describing your childhoods and the first time you both met Jimin, to how annoying it was to always be “prim and proper” around court officials at the palace. Eventually, the conversation morphed into what your favorites were. Fruits, words, plants, hobbies, and other things. She was easy to talk to, funny and sweet. You don’t think you could become super close with her, like you were with Jimin and Tae, but you could see yourself being friends with the girl. You could see why Jimin liked her.

All of the sudden, she smirked at you, a wicked glint erupting behind her eyes. “Who’s your favorite member in the keila?”

Because the gods of Illain apparently liked to make your life difficult, she asked at the exact fucking time Tae, Jimin, Hobi, and Jungkook ran past you, shrieking like people who werejust told they could stop by McDonald’s on the way home. Having their dumb heightened senses, they heard her question through their screams and came to screeching halt, their game temporarily forgotten as they looked at you expectantly.

“Go run along children.” You tried to shoo them away.

Jimin laughed and looked at his brothers, raising his chin as he met their gazes. “It’s obviously me, guys. I’ve known her the longest and I am her best friend after all.”

You locked eyes with his soft brown ones.

Try me, bitch.

“It’s TaeTae.”

“Yaaaaaas!” The grey-haired Saeni yanked his headband off and began swinging it around in victory with a boxy smile overtaking his face.

Jimin’s face, on the other hand, dropped in exaggerated shock and disappointment as he clutched at his heart. “Betrayed by my own best friend. How could you!? You wound me!”

Hobi merely shrugged, not very surprised by your answer nor the other’s reactions.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes and looked between you and Tae a couple times before huffing and stalking away.

From your left, you heard Jin’s voice shout out, “Yah! How could you, Y/N!? No more food for you!”

You froze as his words reached your ears. “WAIT! Papa, I’m sorry! You’re the best, I swear!”

“It’s too late now, little scorja!”

“Fuck,” you murmured under your breath.

You knew Jin was joking, but you wouldn’t put it past the male to not whack you with one of his spoons later that night.

“You know,” Jiae leaned over to whisper in your ear. “I really thought you would’ve said Jungkook. You two seem really close.”

As she pulled back, she wiggled her light purple brows at you.

The insinuation of her words made you cough as you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Ah, uh, no. Nothing there. I mean, yes, we are friends… good friends, surprisingly. But nothing more!”

She gave you a look that implied that she didn’t believe you one bit but didn’t press it further.

CAN THESE PEOPLE STOP THINKING THAT SOMETHING IS GOING ON BETWEEN US!!??

It’s kinda making it harder to ignore-

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Tae cried out behind you. “Ow! What the fuck, Kookie!? You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled to yourself.

Boys will be boys.

Two days later, you found yourself staring at a skinny, yet super tall tree gently swaying in the wind as sunlight filtered through its green leaves. You wouldn’t call yourself a tree expert by any means, but it looked like a birch tree. The white, paper-like bark had the same flashes of brownish-black running up the trunk that you’d seen on white birch trees on Earth.

This was the tree that Jimin was drawn to, his father’s draeva. You watched as your best friend slowly approached the tree with bated breath. It all seemed too easy.

You hadn’t run into any draikensu along the way. You had been wary when you passed through a village at the base of the mountain you were currently on, thinking that there might be a spy or draikensu follower lurking in the shadows. It didn’t help that it felt like someone had been watching you all afternoon, so you voiced your concern to the Saeni. The kiela had assured you that those people were peaceful and of no trouble. You still weren’t able to shake the feeling but did your best to ignore it since the boys said it was all okay.

Jimin’s inner compass had proven to be reliable. He felt a steady pull in the same direction over the past couple of days as your traveled. Occasionally, you had run into problems when there had been a body of water or other obstruction in the way, but for the most part, it had been a pretty standard GPS situation.

I wonder if he got a “you have arrived at your destination” message when they reached the draeva because he had stopped really abruptly.

Overall, though, there had been absolutely no trouble. It just felt like there had to be some catch. It shouldn’t have been this easy. It was never this easy in the books or movies.

Jimin paused, looking up at the limbs rocking back and forth high up in the air before looking back at you and the others. “What, uh… what am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe find your father’s handprint?” Jiae suggested.

He nodded and turned back to the draeva, inspecting the branches and walking around the trunk with a concentrated face.

After a couple trips around the tree while murmuring to himself, he stopped and said, “I can’t find it. I’m gonna have to climb.”

You opened your mouth to tell him to be careful as he placed one hand on the trunk to steady himself. Your words trailed off as he just stood there… not moving.

You heard Namjoon whisper, “Ah, so that’s what it is…”

You were going to ask what he meant, when suddenly, Jimin gasped and his back straightened like a rod. You called out his name and went to move toward him, but Jungkook was quick to stop you by wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you back.

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Why di-”

“Shhh, just wait.” He had a soft smile playing at his lips as he kept his eyes pinned on his orange-haired brother.

Your eyes moved sideways to look at the other Saeni. They all had similar, knowing expressions on their faces. You turned back to look at your friend, who’s shoulder blades were now shifting below his clothes as black smoke drifted out from underneath his hand to curl and dance in the light breeze.

What the…

You could see Jimin begin to breath heavily as more smoke poured out between his fingers.

What the fuck is going on!?

“Oh…” You heard Jiae delicately say beside you as a shudder ran through her body.

You thought you saw her eyes glow slightly.

Your eyes bugged out when Jimin slowly removed his hand from the white bark. Left behind was a mark in the exact shape of his hand, like it had been burned into the wood. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Jimin kept his gaze on his hand as he turned back to the group. When he finally lifted his head, he was smiling so hard his eyes were squished closed. Small tracks of tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his jaw.

“It’s not my father’s… it… it’s mine. My draeva.”

You were sitting next to the fire in the middle of village, watching from the sidelines as Jimin still celebrated with the others.

“My draeva.”

As soon as he finished speaking, his brothers rushed forward and tackled him in giant group hug. Even Yoongi joined in. They all tugged at his shirt, and he laughed joyously as he yanked it off over his head and turned around. Right between his shoulder blades were three concentric circles. His draeva mark.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek.

Jimin looked over to where you, Jiae, and the guards were still standing in awe, and he ran over and scooped Jiae up in his arms.

“Can you feel it? The connection?” He asked in a hopeful voice as he buried his head in her lilac hair.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly. “I can feel it.”

He sobbed into her hair, but it was a cry of pure happiness. He let go of her slowly and turned to you, his grin almost splitting his face in two.

“Y-you found your draeva… Jimin, I’m… I’m so fucking happy for you!” You launched yourself into his open arms, squeezing him with everything you had in you.

A loud cheer roused you from the recent memory. It was dark out, but the moonlight was bright enough for you to see that even the locals were in on the celebration now. You wondered if they questioned why Jimin was receiving his mark so much later than usual. If they did, you were sure one of the boys would conjure a quick lie to explain why.

Besides the three rings now imprinted on his back, Jimin didn’t appear to be any different physically, but there was definitely a change in him. Maybe it was the way his eyes seemed more alive, the amber flecks in his irises vibrant. Maybe it was the way his skin seemed to be perfectly clear and glowing. Maybe it was the way his breathing seemed to come easier. Or the way he seemed more sensitive to sounds and touch. The way he seemed to be finally and entirely be who he was meant to be. Like he was previously missing a part of him and he hadn’t realized it.

In a way, it was true.

You tried to smile as you watched him excitedly converse with Jiae, there heads close together as their eyes drank each other in. You felt a pang in your heart, but not because of them being together. If you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t felt any negative emotions when you saw them side by side for the past couple of days. You only felt happiness… for both of them. Maybe getting to know Jiae was the final hurdle you had needed to let go of your feelings for your best friend.

But was it even love if I got over it so easily?

You shook your head at yourself. You truly did not know the answer to that question. It had felt like love. At least, it felt how you thought love was supposed to feel. The way your heart would pound, and your breathing would quicken.

Or was I just in love with the idea of being in love with my best friend?

Maybe Jimin had been right. You needed to stop reading smut online, specifically best friends to lovers smut. There was no chance you were going to stop with the tentacle fics. That shit was just too nice.

You peeked at the unofficial couple again and saw Jiae tuck some of her hair behind her ear, giving you full view of her extended elf-like ears. Then, you felt another twang of hurt course through you. The discovery of Jimin’s draeva made you realize just how different you were. How entirely human and normal you were. You would never have elf-like ears or heightened senses and abilities, you were just… you. Human and normal and different from them. Looking at his squished eyes, you couldn’t help but think how he looked like he belonged here. With a sharp inhale, you realized that was the reason for your hurt.

You felt like you were losing your best friend.

You didn’t blame him in the slightest, though. He found a girl, his connection to Illain, and his brothers were all here. There was no reason for him to come back to Earth with you at the end of all this. Maybe now you would be the one to see him only a few months out of the year. He wouldn’t be with you all the time anymore. You felt your throat choke up and tears begin to form in your eyes. You blinked rapidly to keep them at bay, but the urge to cry just kept building and building and building. You fisted your hands and dug them into your thighs as you continued to think of a life without a constant Park Jimin. Switching tactics, you glared straight into the fire beside you, hoping the light and heat would simply burn away your tears.

It didn’t.

You dropped your head into your hands, trying your damn best to will away your sadness. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, for fuck’s sake.

Be happy, you dumb bitch! You scolded yourself, but it only made you feel worse since it wasn’t working.

You didn’t think he would, since he was too wrapped up in the festivities, but you didn’t want Jimin to see you like this. You didn’t want him to look over and see you wallowing in your tears. With one last look in his direction, you inhaled deeply before standing and walking off into the darkness of the tree line.

You fisted your hands as you stalked further into the dark. All you wanted to do was shut your eyes and walk in a silent oblivion, but you didn’t think you could safely navigate the forest that way, so you instead let the soft moonlight guide you through the trees.

You walked and walked and walked, every once in a while, stumbling in the dark. You kept going, just needing to get away and be alone. You kept going until your felt like you could finally breath. You stepped through a pattern of branches and entered a meadow-like clearing. The moon supplying just enough light that you could make admire the tall grass and wildflowers dotting the landscape.

“You had to walk fucking far, huh?”

You whipped your head to the side to look over your shoulder at the sudden voice, body tense as you loudly gasped. You relaxed when you saw it was just Jungkook standing there with an annoyed yet concerned face.

“What are you doing here?”

He took slow steps toward you, like he was worried you would run off if he moved too quickly. “I followed you.”

You gave him an “are you serious?” face because no shit he followed you.

When he didn’t say anything else, you groaned and crossed your arms. “Then why did you follow me?”

By now he was directly in front of you, his mouth slightly downturned. “You looked upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You sighed and looked away from his eyes, focusing on the open clearing instead. “I’ll be fine, I just needed to clear my head.”

He studied you for a few moments, observing the heaviness of your breaths and your clenched jaw.

“Hit me.”

You turned back to gawk at him. “What?”

“You obviously have something on your mind, and you need to work off some steam, so hit me.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, completely thrown off by his words. “N-no! I’m not going to just hit y-ahhh! What the hell!?” You had to jump backwards to avoid his fist aimed at your gut.

Immediately and automatically, you fell into your fighting stance. Feet planted on the ground but still light on the balls of your feet, legs shoulder width apart, and arms raised with fisted hands.

An exact mirror image of how Jungkook was now standing.

“Like I said, you need to work off some steam. What better way to do that than sparing?”

Does he ever think of anything besides fighting?

You were silent and still for several heartbeats as you debated his offer.

To hell with it. Just go punch him.

You inhaled and narrowed your eyes, readying your limbs. He noticed the slight change in your demeanor and smirked before initiating the fight with a kick.

You don’t know how long the two of you went at it, exchanging hits and blocking attacks. It was a pleasant surprise to you that you managed to land a hit on Jungkook numerous times. Either he was going easy on you, or you had just gotten that much better.

I hope it’s that I’ve gotten better.

And you thought it surely had to be that because with every hit you landed, brief shock and awe would flash across Jungkook’s face.

You were sweating, hair sticking to your skin. You didn’t have the best vision, either. It being nighttime and all. But you applied every note Jungkook had given you about fighting with obscured vision. You listened, paid attention to the shifts in the air, and relied on your instincts.

You were somehow holding your own against the one and only Jeon Jungkook.

That made pride bubble up inside of you.

But that was your mistake.

You got confident and forgot, just for a moment, how good Jungkook was.

How he was the best.

You reached a little too far with your attack.

Your balance shifted a little too much to one side.

He took advantage of that slip up.

Dropping below your arm, he sent a leg out and knocked you down.

In an instant, he was above you.

You were going to be pinned.

Making a split-second decision, you lifted your arm and rammed your elbow into the side of his jaw.

He reared back ever so slightly, and that flinch let you grab him by his straps and roll the two of you over.

Now it was you hovering above him.

You were straddling his waist, breathing heavily as you leaned down over him. One hand wrapped around his throat while the other held down his shoulder. Your eyes traced over his pinned figure, taking in his straining muscles that, for some reason, were allowing you to hold him to the ground. Your eyes went up past his heaving chest, beyond his large, rough hand wrapped around your wrist at his throat, past the smooth expanse of his neck, and further than the sweat plastering his burgundy hair to the sides of his face. Up until you locked gazes with his peridot-green eyes. If it were possible, the intensity of his stare made you breath even harder. He was looking at you in both shock and surprise, but it was the pride burning in his eyes that quickened your breaths. The pride… and something else. Something dark and angry and lustful. It danced at the edge of Jungkook’s expression. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, as if he was trying to calm himself down or control himself.

Is he mad that I clipped him in the jaw?

Adrenaline was rushing through your veins as you gasped out, “I… told you… I would… beat… you… someday.”

Jungkook didn’t bother to open his eyes. “You only won because I let you.”

Probably, most definitely true.

With a pout, you let go of his throat and shoulder and moved your torso upright, yet doing so inadvertently caused your hips to roll against his lap. Before you could register what you just did, Jungkook’s hands shot out and gripped your waist. Hard.

You gasped as he forced your hips down, making your core press directly against him. You looked back up to his face to see his eyes open once again, but with a sinful glint overtaking his expression. The veins in his neck were prominent as he lustfully glared up at you. You might have been the one on top, but his appearance signaled that he was about to be the one in charge. Ever so slightly, you felt him thrust up into you, the action eliciting a tiny whimper to escape past your lips. Jungkook groaned at the sound, eyelids briefly fluttering closed before he locked his gaze on you again. Digging his fingers into your sides, he did the motion again and again and again. Each time just a little more forceful than the last.

With each second that passed by you could feel his bulge growing underneath you.

And with each upward rock of his hips, he made sure to hit the very center of you perfectly.

The sensations left you lightheaded and gasping for air, though you were doing your best to quiet your moans. Much to his displeasure.

“I want to hear you, sweetheart.” He forced your hips down as he sent a wrecking thrust upward.

You mewled, sucking in more air harshly. Whether it was his words, his commanding aura, or his actions, you had no idea. Maybe it was all of it, but whatever it was, you liked it.

Loved it.

“More,” he demanded.

Your mewls finally changed into breathy moans as you began to meet every one of his thrusts with a roll of your hips.

“More.” He growled.

There was no way you were going to deny him. Not when he was making you feel like this.

“J-jung… ngh… Jungkook-ahhh.”

“That’s it, sweetheart.” His voice was deep and raspy and utterly addictive. “Be loud for me.”

“Mmm. I want… ngh… more!”

“So needy,” he remarked roughly.

He used his tight hold on your waist to quickly flip the two of you over so that you now laid underneath him on the soft grass. Completely at his mercy. With rattling breaths, he let go of your waist to slip his hands to your legs and wrap them around his torso. The angle allowing your core to once again be pressed directly to his front.

The sweet sensation was too much, but at the same time, not enough. You moaned his name and arched your back, wanting more, more, more. You felt drunk off him. Off his weight on top of you. His hands sliding against your body. His intoxicating scent. His dominating presence. Off his everything.

After securing your legs around his waist, his hands drifted up your thighs and past your hips and chest until they settled gently against your neck. He lightly stroked your skin, making you inhale sharply as waves of pleasure wracked your body.

“J-jungkook. Please.” You desperately tried to pull him down to you fully, but he resisted with a tsk.

His green eyes were completely blown out and they bore into yours as he peeled our hands off him and pinned them to the ground beside your head. “You need to be patient, sweetheart.”

He leaned down and ran the tip of his nose from the base of your throat all the way up to your ear, lightly sucking at the delicate skin up there. You moaned and writhed beneath him as he continued nipping just below your jawline. The cold silver of his earrings dragging against your skin made you shiver. The scorching trail of his hot tongue made you pant.

You were about to release another sweet moan as he ground against you, but the sound of a twig snapping made you cease all actions.

“Is that… oh, shit! Run, hyung! Abort! Abort! Abort!”

IS THAT FUCKING TAE!?

Jungkook, who had also frozen at the sound, slowly turned his head in the direction of the panicking voice.

“You idiot! I think they heard you!”

HOBI!?

With wide eyes, you shoved Jungkook off you and quickly stood up while tugging at your clothes and running your fingers through your hair. When you rose to your feet, you saw Tae and Hobi trying to backtrack out of the clearing.

Jungkook, stood up as well, an absolutely pissed off expression consuming his face. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

The two Saeni yelped and sheepishly turned around to face you. As subtly as you could, you inched away from Jungkook so that you weren’t so close together.

Tae had the audacity to act surprised. “H-hey, Kook. Little scorja. Crazy seeing you guys out here!”

“Again, what the fuck are you doing?”

Hobi just let Tae take the heat, and you could see him start to slowly take a step back toward the tree line.

Tae just pouted at Jungkook’s question. “I was just looking out for my little scorja-”

“She’s not yours.”

Tae ignored Jungkook’s interruption, just smirked slightly. “-because the last time you followed her alone, you yelled at her.”

Okay, maybe we all should just calm down and then give ourselves concussions, so we can forget what was just happening.

Also… WHAT THE FUCK WAS JUST HAPPENING!?

You laughed nervously. “I’m, uh, just gonna let you two duke this out. I’m gonna leave with Hobi!”

You went to take a step forward, but Jungkook grabbed your shirt and pulled you back. “I’m not letting you leave this time.”

That made Hobi stop his quiet exit. “This time?”

Tae gasped. “Wait… has this happened before!? Are you two together!?”

Realizing what he said, Jungkook let go of you and even gave you a tiny push away from him, his green eyes wide with sudden panic. “Hyung, come on now. As if.”

Excuse me?

“Oh, Kookie, you come on now. You can’t lie and say that Y/N isn’t a beautiful girl.”

“Guys…” you tried to get their attention.

I appreciate the sentiment Tae, but I really don’t want to hear his answer.

“I-you-she-she’s human and it was nothing. We were just sparing.” He avoided looking your way.

Annnnd that’s why.

You stared at him, unable to comprehend anything that just happened. Why did he do that? Why did you go along with it? Why would he do that if he didn’t find you attractive? Why would you go along with it when you knew how felt toward you? Why did he say it was nothing? Why did that suck to hear? What in the everlasting fuck is going on inside of his stupid head!?

Hobi and Tae didn’t say anything else, just blinked and looked back and forth between you and the burgundy-haired Saeni next to you.

It was painfully quiet for the next several seconds until Jungkook mumbled to you. “Don’t be late for training in the morning.”

Then, he left in a hurry; walking into the trees without a single glance back.

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vintagedaydreams · 5 years

Text

Watery Lane

Peaky Blinders fic. Don’t go looking for a whole lot of accuracy! I’m still in Season 1, just started this wonderful show a short time ago.

Arthur Shelby x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, mention of violence, blood, wounds. Nothing super graphic.

3,284 words

It was dark when you jolted awake, body seizing. Hot tears flooded your eyes as your body protested the sudden movement, torn and bruised skin pulling and you could feel something wet and sticky on your skin.

You blinked rapidly, eyes darting around wildly. Brick walls. You were surrounded by brick walls and were lying prone on wet mud. The mouth of an alleyway was only a dozen feet or so from you and your memory came back in flashes.

Leaving the betting office where you’d stayed late to finish going over the books, being set upon by a few large men, the taunts, the threats, the beating and then…nothing. You must’ve blacked out.

Water dripped onto your face and you felt hysterical laughter bubbling up as the heavens suddenly opened up and it began to rain. ‘Of course it would,’ you thought manically.

With a pained grunt, you struggled to sit up, shaking arms pushing you to lean against the wall close beside you. You had no idea what time it was, the clouds making it impossible to see where the moon was at or even how dark the sky was. But the blood had still been wet, still sticky, though already, it was washing off under the steady stream of rain.

Watery Lane. If you could…just get to Watery Lane. The betting office wasn’t that far of a walk to begin with and you’d made some headway. Surely…surely you were close?

You took as deep a breath as you dared, (you could remember someone kicking you in the stomach. Once? Twice?), and gathered what strength you could and climbed to your feet.

When you were upright, your vision darkened dangerously, and you clung to the alley wall for support. Every inch of you ached and stung. Between the rain and possibly a swollen eye, it was hard to see where you were going, but you slowly, painfully made your way out of the alley and onto the street.

Watery Lane. You just had to get to Watery Lane. Surely someone from the Shelby clan was there?

You made slow progress down the street, in what you hoped was the right direction. Every bit of your attention was focused on putting one foot in front of the other – nothing else. You stopped for a breather every couple of feet, closing your eyes and swallowing back bile.

You had to make it Watery Lane. Then you could collapse and hopefully pass out again. It was much less painful that way. Maybe if Tommy saw the state you were in, he’d be okay with you missing work the next day?

A pained laugh bubbled up uncontrollably and for a moment, you closed your eyes and just imagined the family’s reaction to your current state. They’d all be worried. You were like another member of the family – had been close to them even before the War and helped Polly out when the men were gone. An honorary member, they called you. Not really related, not really a sister, but protected and loved like one all the same.

Your eyes opened and you started shuffling forward again.

Watery Lane. You just had to make. You could make it. You would make it.

You continued your slow journey. One foot in front of the other. Shuffling along a few feet before stopping to lean against the nearest surface to catch your breath and regain your strength before starting again.

It was still raining. You were thoroughly soaked through and your teeth were chattering, your limbs getting heavier and harder to move. Though you weren’t sure if that was from the cold rain or from the blood loss.

But ahead, you could see what looked like…yes! Watery Lane.

With newfound strength, you surged forward the last dozen yards and collapsed against the door with a loud thud. Hopefully, there was someone at home.

You stayed leaning on the door, feeling yourself sinking lower and lower to the ground, before the door was suddenly yanked open and you pitched forward into the house.

“(Y/N)?!” Ada’s voice rang out, concerned and confused. You struggled to crawl into the house and her repetition of your name became horrified as you found shelter from the rain and the blood from your wounds wasn’t washed away.

Pounding footsteps echoed around the house and then Polly and Finn came into your limited view.

“Finn, go get the boys,” Polly ordered, kneeling by your side and running a careful hand down your face.

“(Y/N),” she murmured as Finn practically leapt over you to make a run for the Garrison, “what happened to you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but found yourself suddenly puking on the entry way floor. Polly gave a brisk, snappy order to someone, but your mind was too fuzzy from the sudden pain of vomiting to make any sense of it.

“Darling,” Polly was suddenly saying lowly, slowly repeating it until you blinked painfully at her, “I know you’re hurting. We’re so sorry, Pet. But I need you to help me one last time, okay? I need you to help us get you all the way into the house. The boys should be here soon, but we need to get you in and safe. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

You gave a very shaky nod, tensing your muscles for one last hoorah.

“Just a few feet, (Y/N),” Polly was saying in your ear. “On the count of three, okay? One…two…three!”

Ada and Polly had each put their hands on you and all together, you pushed and pulled your way a few more feet into the house, the door slamming shut behind you.

But it was too much. Your body trembled with both the pain and the cold and you found your vision swimming and bile rising up again.

A gentle hand was petting your head, careful to not put too much pressure until your wounds could be ascertained.

“You did good, Pet, very good,” Polly was crooning in your ear. You gave a sob, body racking in pain again as your body protested the movement.

“Easy, (Y/N), easy. The boys will be here soon and we’ll get you all cleaned up and taken care of.”

You felt your eyes drift closed. You’d made it to Watery Lane. You could rest now.

It was dark when you jolted awake, body seizing. Hot tears flooded your eyes as your body protested the sudden movement, torn and bruised skin pulling. But this time, there was no blood. None you could feel, anyway. Instead, there were bandages covering the majority of your torso and you were warm, not lying down in the mud in a back alley.

You blinked, looking around. A fire burned low in the living room fireplace, almost down to the embers. You were laying on the couch, blankets piled on you and your head wrapped in a towel to keep the chill of wet hair away.

There were bodies on the floor. Outlines of three, maybe four bodies laying on the living room floor between you and the fireplace.

Watery Lane. That’s right. You’d made it to Watery Lane.

You shifted to try and get your shoulders under the warm blankets, but gave a choked off groan as pain washed over you.

Movement on the floor startled you and you jerked your head to see the shapes moving. One detached from the floor to move towards the dying fire, while another moved towards you.

“(Y/N)?” came Arthur’s deep voice, “Luv, are you alright?”

Something inside you settled at the eldest Shelby’s voice and you felt yourself relax even farther into the couch. You’d always felt safest around Arthur, among other things, and the fact that he was here now…

“Mmm,” you hummed, not sure anything else coming out of your mouth would make sense.

The room got a bit brighter as the fire was brought back to life by Tommy. You could see Finn and John laying on the floor still, though John was awake and his eyes were focused on you.

The soft caress of a rough hand on your cheek had your eyes turning back to Arthur.

“You had us worried there, sweetheart,” he said with a small, shaky smile. You nuzzled into his hand, the only movement you could really make at this point to try and reassure him.

“(Y/N),” Tommy said quietly, appearing next to Arthur at your side, “I know you’re in pain and exhausted, but…do you know who did this to you?”

Arthur’s hand stayed on your cheek while the Shelby’s waited for your answer. You found yourself leaning into Arthur’s hand even farther and breathing in his scent.

“No,” you finally croaked out, “They…didn’t say. But they mentioned…mentioned the Blinders. And something…about a horse…fixing a race?” You coughed at the dryness of your throat, tears spilling over your cheeks at the pain that action brought.

Arthur gently wiped your tears and Tommy disappeared, only to reappear with a glass of water.

The eldest and second eldest brother helped you to drink as much as you could, before rearranging you back comfortably on the couch.

“You did good, (Y/N),” Arthur murmured, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Tommy went back to the floor in front of the fire, but not before giving you a small, soft smile.

You heard John and Tommy speaking in low voices and felt at peace knowing that whoever did this to you wasn’t going to be able to do it again. At least, not for too much longer.

“Arthur,” you managed to murmur as the man went to take his hand away, “Stay?”

The man gave a small smile, moving to sit until his side was pressed against the couch and he was facing you, his hand never leaving your face.

“Forever, (Y/N),” he said with a soft expression. “Or as long as you’ll have me.”

You have a smile as your eyes fluttered shut. “Forever sounds nice.”

It was light out this time when you awoke, jumping a bit as a door slammed. You squeezed your eyes shut as your body reminded you exactly why you were lying immobile on the couch and not in your own bed.

Footsteps were heard in the kitchen followed by a harsh whisper from what sounded like Polly.

“(Y/N) is still sleeping, John Shelby, and if you come in here again stomping around like a whole platoon, what I will do to you will pale in comparison to what Arthur will do to you!”

There was a murmur from who you assumed was John and you quickly shut your eyes as you heard someone enter the living room. Wouldn’t do for John to get in trouble with Arthur over you.

There was silence for a few moments before you heard, “I know you’re awake, (Y/N). That smile gives you away.”

You opened your eyes to see Polly standing by the couch, a soft expression on her face. You felt the small smile you had get bigger. It felt…good to know that the Shelby matriarch was looking out for you and Arthur was so protective of you.

“Polls,” you greeted quietly.

“You had us worried, Pet,” she murmured, crouching down to be closer to your level. “Arthur just about went out of his mind when the boys came in and saw you lying in a growing puddle of blood and vomit.” She waited a beat before asking, “Did Tommy talk to you about what happened?”

You nodded. “Yeah, last night. I woke up and they checked on me. I don’t know who they were, Poll, but I told Tommy what I could remember of what they said.”

“Good girl,” Polly murmured, moving to stand again. “You rest for a while longer. Arthur will be home in a little bit. Do you need anything?”

You shook your head as you felt your eyes grow heavy again, even though you’d just woken up.

“No, ‘m fine,” you murmured, drifting off. Your last thought was of Arthur. What was he doing coming home so early for?

“…what I would have done, Polly,” a low voice was saying by your ear as you slowly woke up. “She’s important to me. To see her lying there, half dead, I just…”

“It’s okay, Arthur,” Polly said gently from farther away in the room. “She’s here and she’s fine. And knowing both you and Tommy, she’ll not be alone like that again.”

“Damn right,” Arthur’s voice suddenly growled. You felt a shiver run through you at the dark, dangerous tone, though it wasn’t in fear. “If I’m not with her, you can bet that another Shelby or another Blinder will be. This will not happen again.”

“Of course not, love,” came Polly’s soothing reply as she quietly left the room and your eyes fluttered open at the sound of movement in the kitchen.

Arthur was sitting on the ground next to the couch again, beside you. He looked a little worse for wear, a little more haggard, more weary than usual and you found yourself blurting, “Have you actually slept at all, Arthur?”

The man whipped his head around to look at you, face lighting up at seeing you awake and coherent.

“(Y/N),” he smiled, raising a hand to run down your cheek, “good to see you finally awake. Did you rest okay?”

You gave a slight nod. “Yeah, slept okay, all things considered.” Arthur’s eyes flashed to your covered torso, where all the bandages were wound before shooting back to yours. “But you didn’t answer my question,” you continued after a beat. “Did you actually sleep at all?”

Arthur gave another shadow of a smile. “Bit hard to sleep when I was so worried about you,” he said quietly. “You were unconscious when we came in and stayed that way until last night when you woke up briefly. Gave us all quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice soft. Arthur scoffed.

“Ain’t your fault, sweetheart, so don’t go apologizing. We just care, is all.”

“I know you do, all of you.” You hesitated, biting your lip before asking so softly it was a wonder he heard you at all, “Did you mean what you said last night, Arthur?”

The eldest Shelby froze, eyes widening. You tried not to fidget, as the pain level had finally dropped to a low throb and you didn’t want to make it worse, but it was getting harder and harder to stay still as the silence wore on.

You shouldn’t have said anything. You may have just ruined one of the closest relationships you had over something said probably in sheer relief that you hadn’t died. Of course Arthur Shelby, the Arthur Shelby, didn’t mean that he wanted to set his cap at your fireside. Why would he? He was a Shelby! He could have anyone he wanted in the whole town of Birmingham, and probably outside of as well. Why would he want to be with someone he’d never shown an interest in in the last couple of years he’d known her?

“Never-nevermind,” you said quietly, feeling your face flame as shame and embarrassment curled in your gut. “Um, do you think you could ask Polly to come back in here?” you continued after another few moments of heavy silence.

“Polly?” Arthur suddenly seemed to snap out of it, “What do you need Polly for? If you need something, (Y/N), I can help.”

“Thanks, Arthur, but it’s…it’s just best that Polly helps,” you stuttered out, feeling the mortification grow. Why couldn’t Arthur just give you a few moments peace to get your thoughts straight? Obviously, you’d made a fool of yourself and now you couldn’t even come to terms with it!

“(Y/N),” Arthur said lowly, leaning closer to you, “Is this because of last night?”

You shook your head forcefully, doing your best to ignore the pain that stemmed from that.

“No,” you murmured, “it’s not. But can we…can we please just forget I asked about it? Please? I’m sorry, I won’t bring it up again, okay? I get it, it was a mistake and I probably could have caught onto that faster if I wasn’t in so much pain. So…we can just forget about it and move on.”

“(Y/N),” Arthur sighed, but you quickly cut him off.

“I get it, Arthur, it’s no big deal! It’s not going to effect our relationship at all and we can just chalk it up to me being out of sorts.”

“That’s not-“

“I mean, that is what happened, right? You said something that I completely took out of context and I shouldn’t have brought it up. But it’s okay – I won’t bring it up again, I promise.”

A low growl came from the man in front of you and you snapped your mouth shut, feeling another shiver go through you.

“Honestly, woman. Would you let me get a sentence or two in?” Arthur demanded, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not…it wasn’t that. (Y/N), we’ve known each other for a long time, right? Years. You’ve been with us through good times, bad times and worse times, alright? You’re one of the closest people I have and I…was just a bit shocked that you remembered what I’d said last night. And what you said last night. Not that I don’t want you to!” Arthur hastened to reassure you as your face fell, “but I was…afraid that if you did, it’d change us and not in a good way. I’m not…I’m no good, (Y/N), and you deserve—”

“Let me stop you right there,” you interrupted icily, glaring at the slumped man in front of you. “You are a good man, Arthur Shelby and I won’t stand for anyone, least of all you, saying otherwise. And don’t you dare try and make decisions for me based on what you think I deserve. I am quite capable of making my own decisions, and I will be damned if I let anyone else make them for me. Including you. Especially you. You and Tommy both are more prone to…to…self-pitying idiocy than anyone else I know.”

There was a snort of amusement from the kitchen and you felt your face flame once again. You’d forgotten about Polly. Apparently, Arthur had too, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Instead, he was still staring at you, a small smile playing at his lips and a glint of…something in his eyes.

“You know, you make a very compelling point, (Y/N),” he murmured after a few moments. You sniffed haughtily, ignoring the sudden butterflies in your stomach the best you could.

“I’m a smart woman, Arthur. Comes with the territory.”

“And how,” Arthur murmured, voice dropping a few registers, “does a smart woman like you, want a run-down old man like me?”

Your eyes flashed. “I do believe we just talked about your opinion of yourself, Arthur, and what I won’t stand for.”

To your surprise, Arthur gave a huff of laughter. “That we did, sweetheart, that we did.” Silence fell over the two of you as his eyes searched yours.

“I meant what I said,” he said suddenly, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Every word. I’ll give you forever, or for as long as you’ll have me.”

You felt tears spring up unexpectedly and you gave a shaky laugh. “Forever sounds nice, Arthur. Really nice.”

“Just kiss, already!” Polly’s voice came from the kitchen.

You jumped a bit at the unexpected commentary, but didn’t have a moment to even think about being embarrassed before lips were on yours.

You fully believed every word you’d said to Arthur. He was a good man.

And a damn good kisser.

#Peaky Blinders Imagines #Arthur Shelby x Reader #Peaky Blinders #Arthur Shelby #Polly #Tommy Shelby

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