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#light support squad
soberviking17 · 2 years
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King Shark
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Showtime — Keegan P. Russ x Reader
Kinktober day 4: Uniform kink
They don't hate each other I promise
CW: hate sex, hardcore, scratching, dirty talk, manhandling, creampie, just. Pure filth
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"Fucking stay still." Keegan mutters between clenched teeth, trying to get you to stop fucking yourself on his dick. It was ruining the rhythm he set on his thrusts, and while any other time he would have enjoyed it, it ruined his orgasm three times already.
"Fuck you." You retort back, making him take a deep breath and wonder for a second if he should just pull out and jerk off instead of dealing with you. He shakes his head, grabbing your hips again and slamming himself all the way back inside in one thrust, basking in your loud moan before he pulled out again. Big, gloved hands pull you by the ankles as he swiftly puts you on your back, his hands folding your legs up with ease as he slams himself back in, quickly setting a punishing rhythm.
"Wanna act like a bitch? I'll fucking treat you like one." His voice is deeper and more raw, eyes shut as he holds your legs even closer to your body, the way your tight cunt is swallowing him up like nothing is making him go nuts. One of his gloved hands goes to hold the top of your head, angling it up so you can see his stupidly large dick fuck into you.
"Takin' me like nothing... how many dicks have been in this sweet cunt, hm? How many from the Ghosts?" He's simply trying to get in your head and he knows it's working by the way your half-lidded eyes open simply to glare up at him, a small frown forming on your lips as you refuse to answer.
"None of... your fucking business." Damn him and his massive cock, stretching your wet cunt out with ease as he pounds you into the mattress, using your own body to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. The tip of his dick keeps slamming into the entrance of your abused womb, making a mix of pain and pleasure to shoot up in your body with every single deep thrust.
"The whole squad, huh?" He asked with a small, deep laugh, and you know him well enough to be able to tell he has a shit-eating grin under his skull balaclava. He lowers his body into you, arms wrapping around your waist as he hammers his thick shaft inside you, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and your combined moans are bouncing off the walls of the safehouse. You're mentally glad none of the other Ghosts are here yet, listening to your slutty, needy moans as Keegan uses your tiny cunt to jerk himself off.
"Maybe." You confess jokingly, though you're trying to make it seem like it's true. You've seen the way Keegan becomes possessive over you before, and you can see it now, as his light blue eyes narrow before he slams into you deeper and harder than before, his breath hot and labored right in your ear.
"Fucking slut." He says with a breathy chuckle, the way your squelching cunt is leaking all over the crotch of his uniform while you swallow him up is giving him the chance to ignore the way his heart strings get pulled at the thought of you with anyone else. His gloved hands hold the back of your knees, pulling them to your chest until you whine out. He thrashes inside you a few times before his arms wrap under the back of your knees, pulling you up with him.
"Hold on tight." Your arms immediately wrap around his neck when he lifts you up, wincing softly at the way his tactical vest is rubbing against your sensitive nipples. He moves your body up and down his dick slowly, hissing once your patience runs out and your nails scratch the only place uncovered by his uniform— the back of his neck.
"Bitch." He barks out, arms now wrapped around your waist as he begins to slam back into you, masked face hidden on the nape of your neck as he moans lowly, trying his best to fuck you as hard as he can despite his vest getting in the way. One of your hands holds onto his vest for support from his animalistic thrusts and he throws his head back, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him is already driving him over the edge.
"I'm not pulling out." He warns, as if he didn't have you begging for him to cum inside you every single time you've fucked. You simply nod your head, eyes closed as you feel the knot on your stomach coming undone, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave at the same time Keegan is milked, letting out a deep groan right into your ear while your greedy womb gladly takes his cum, filling you to the brim with his seed just as he had done so many times in the past. He holds you close to him and you don't register his balaclava is pulled over half of his face until you feel his lips gently kissing your neck.
"Attagirl."
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dasketcherz · 1 month
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thought i'd share my thought process for this fun lil piece / outfit in full display that i whipped out for beckory on valentines cuz i really had a lotta fun making it <3
OKAY first off, big thanks to @leaky-heart for helpin me gather some really cool outfit refs and for lending me resources where I can find a ref for bonnie's guitar in a 3d space. Thank you bestie, yar a life saver <3
Second, @/littleleaflings' jacket—goated af, will never stop gushin bout it aaaaAAA <3
Okay so looking at freddy & bonnie's designs—i am in love with how their dominant and accent colors are opposite of each other like a yin and yang situation. So i absolutely tried to incorporate that when rearranging the palette unto beckory's outfit
Fronnie's colors arent the only contrasting elements about them. Aside from their earrings, even their symbols are a pair—i love how freddy's is a lighting bolt but he is also associated with stars on the side cuz of his branding. While bonnie's is a star but he also has lightning bolts on the side (the purple accent in his fit) to match freddy
And to sprinkle a bit of beckory flair, i put stripe lines across their pants (if you look back on my ref sheet for the squad, the three amigos all have stripes somewhere in their fits, i purposely designed that to be their thing) just to also unify the patterns from their top
i gave tony a scarf to match greg's bow tie accessory. Its a combo homage to bonnie's headband and bunny ears in a way (cuz the ribbons on its ends look like droopy rabbit ears) i gave them gloves to compensate being unable to add punk bracelets on em cuz it would be too much for the overall look (same logic applies to the star shades, its to match with the top hat)
Also this was such a pure coincidence but i also realized beckory wears their fazwatches in the same placement as fronnie wears their earrings on. That actually makes me very happy, i think its a really cool coincidence
And as yall can see, Greg's jacket initially had stars on his sleeves (like it does in the ref), but i decided against putting it in the final cuz im startin to think it might look cluttered and hard to read from afar and tbh, I really liked how the translucent sleeves turned out... I didnt want the star pattern to cover it up lol
And thats pretty much it, thank you coming to my ted talk!! <3
if youre interested to see more of my art process compilation like this you can check over on my ko-fi page, you can support me by buying me a latte cuz I am planning to post more exclusive stuff like this over there in the future so I hope yall look forward to that! I deeply appreciate yall and thank you so much in advance!!
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fritterlitter · 7 months
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Everyone else wants worthwhile analysis and adaptations of dracula but I want a stupid modern rom-com about the suitor squad romancing Lucy pre-proposal. I want them to be 0% jealous or territorial to each other where they have a group chat discussing date ideas and they get together for a pint and moon over how pretty Lucy is together. In an obviously AU turn each of the unsuccessful suitors learns some life lesson/ is in some way better for having tried (ie Seward quits his high stress job and pursues something that he enjoys more) and they all stay friends with Lucy in the end. Mina is still Lucy’s supportive best friend and is engaged to Johnathan, who, as a running bit in the background of the movie, is preparing for an international law internship in Eastern Europe. It is vaguely implied though never confirmed that maybe the actual plot of dracula could occur after the end of the film, but the general vibe is light enough that you believe that if dracula did happen it would be in a silly way with a happy ending
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Family Planning
Life slows down once everyone is safely back on Pabu, and maybe now it’s time to start focusing on what you both want for the future.
Pairing: Hunter x f!reader
Word count: 2.6k
Rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!
Warnings: breeding kink, very very brief and vague medical procedure (birth control removal), established relationship, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, pre-established safe word (always play safe, folks), oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, scent kink, light marking, bandana as bondage, light hair pulling, love and fluff, soft aftercare.
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“I can put a replacement in immediately if you’d like?” The doctor asked, turning in his chair, ready to remove the expired birth control implant buried in your upper arm. 
“Urm…” You paused, not entirely sure what you wanted to do. Honestly, you’d forgotten about the small plastic rod under your skin until Hunter had offhandedly commented that you smelt a little sweeter this cycle.
He sat beside you now, warm brown eyes sliding in your direction as the doctor waited for your answer. With nothing to do this afternoon, he’d offered to come with you to the appointment you’d made at Pabu’s only clinic. After four years at his side, having been assigned as the squad’s civilian handler at the start of the war, nothing was sacred anymore. Even more so after you’d fallen into bed together two years ago. 
Two years of waking up next to each other, of stolen kisses and wandering hands, of knowing looks and being railed against the nearest surface. Two years of ‘I love you’ and ‘stay safe out there.’
During the war, the two of you had discussed a family late at night, tucked away in a bunk together, voices whisper soft and full of hope.
Now, life had slowed. After rescuing Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantiss, you’d slipped off the Empire’s radar and had settled down properly on the tropical island. You had a home and a routine, were on a first-name basis with the locals, and even snagged a teaching job at the school.
Eyes shifting to meet Hunter’s, you chew on the inside of your lip. Was now a good time? Would your baby be safe, or would the Empire come sniffing if they caught wind of a child of an enhanced clone?
“It’s your choice, cyar’ika.” He states, his mouth’s corners turning into a devastatingly handsome smile. “It’s your body.” He adds. You know his stance on having a family, Maker above you play into often when he’s buried deep inside you late at night, but this feels like a pivotal moment in your relationship.
Holding his gaze, you’re not quite sure what you’re searching for – but you can see so much in his eyes. All the trust and love he has for you, all the support. At first, it had been terrifying to have someone believe in you so much, but your self-worth and confidence flourished over the last four years.
He’d be an incredible father. You’d already seen it from his interactions with Omega, how the young girl pulled all those paternal traits out of him. He’d go to the ends of the galaxy to keep you and your baby safe, of that you were sure.
Contentment seeped through your body, a feeling of rightness settling in your gut. You wanted a family too, and you loved each other - had been to hell and back for each other. You shifted your attention to the waiting doctor. “Don’t bother replacing it.” You tell him, hearing Hunter inhale sharply, the armrest of his chair creaking as his grip tightened on it at your words.
The doctor gave you a knowing look as he swabbed a disinfectant pad over your upper arm. “Normally, I encourage my patients to use other contraception, but something tells me that advice would fall on deaf ears.”
You make a slight noise of agreement, glancing over at Hunter as the doctor quickly removes the small implant. Your eyes take in the way he’s watching the little piece of plastic being removed, his fingers flexing against the arms of the chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the implant is pulled free of your body. And then those dark eyes find yours and steal your breath.
It was the right decision.
He’s on you the moment you get home, not even giving you time to properly shut the front door. Rough hands grasp your body, lips finding yours for a passionate kiss – there’s no finesse to it; it’s needy and messy, noses bumping and tongues meeting.
Buttons are undone; his shirt hits the floor, and his shoes and pants follow. Strong hands cup your ass and lift you, lips still pressed desperately against yours as he carries you a few steps further into the house, laying you on the couch and following you down. Your kiss breaks long enough for him to pry your dress up and off, lips meeting again before the garment even has the chance to hit the floor. He’s back on you, using one hand to prop himself up above you.
“Fuck, cyar’ika.” Hunter’s voice is low and smoky as his mouth moves to your jawline, light kisses peppered across it before he works down your throat, nipping gently at your delicate skin. Your chest heaves with each breath, mind spinning as your hand’s card through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp, eliciting a small hiss of pleasure and pain from him.
A needy whine breaks free, your hips lifting as you desperately seek some friction. Hunter matches your actions, grinding his hard-on against your thigh as he reaches the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. He bites down a little harder this time, your moan filling the air, pulling a growl from him as his tongue laves over the mark. The light sweetness to your scent is still there, but he knows it’ll only get stronger as the artificial hormones make their way out of your system. He can’t wait to bask in it.
Your bra is slung over the edge of the couch, hands cupping your breasts as Hunter’s mouth continues downwards, leaving a trail of kisses. Shivers skitter down your spine as he licks across the soft mounds, dragging the flat of his tongue across your rapidly hardening nipples. Drawing one into his mouth, he sucks, scraping his teeth gently across it. The pleasure makes you gasp, back arching as you chase the warmth of his mouth.
Forefinger and thumb tweak your other nipple, the double onslaught making you whimper. Hunter smiles against your breast, enjoying how easy it is to pull such delicious sounds from you. Downwards, he continues, scooting back a little on the couch to press more kisses across the softness of your stomach, yet he pauses for a second just below your belly button.
The actual reality of it slams into him. That damn implant is no longer in your arm, and while it might take a few cycles for your hormone levels to settle back into their natural state, his child could soon be growing here, nurtured by your beautiful body. He moans at the thought, hands moving to kneed gently at your belly.
Gazing down your body, you watch as the man you love laves attention to your stomach. You might’ve pulled away, self-consciousness flaring a little in the past, but you know why he’s doing it. You know the thoughts that are swirling through his mind. You reach down with one hand, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing his bandana off. You snag it with your free hand, sliding it down your wrist, knowing how much he loves seeing you wearing it.
It has the desired effect. Hunter catches the motion, groaning as the band of red fabric rests around your wrist, possessiveness flaring low in his gut and his hips flex, hard cock grinding against your leg again. Deft fingers pry your panties down, and he buries his face between your thighs moments later, turning his head to scatter kisses on your inner thighs. His stubble’s roughness contrasts with his tongue’s softness, and your hips buck in anticipation, desire building further inside you.
He presses forward, burying his face against your pussy as he inhales deeply, growling as your scent floods his nostrils. Tongue dragging through your soaked folds, his nose presses against your clit, and you grind against it, knowing how much he loves you riding his face. Fingers fan over your thighs to keep your legs open as he devours you, his tongue circling your entrance a few times before plunging in, pulling back a moment later to flick it over your clit, making you shudder. He repeats the action several times, driving you crazy with need.
Mouth finally staying on your clit, he presses two fingers into you, crooking them, rubbing your g-spot. The angle is perfect, and between his talented hands and hungry mouth, you’re done for. “Hunter!” You cry out his name, your release slamming into you. Your hips and thighs shake, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pleasure sweeps you up, searing through your veins.
Smug satisfaction paints Hunter’s handsome face as he slows, lapping up your release before he takes his mouth off you, though he continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling the way you spasm around them as you come down from the high. “You have no idea how fucking badly I want to cum inside you.” He rasps, the smokiness of his voice amplified.  
Catching your breath, you’re mesmerised by the intensity of his gaze. Biting down on your lower lip, a thrill runs through you. “I think you should show me.” You challenge.
His growl is feral, your pussy clenching at the sound. Fingers slide out of you as he reaches for your wrists, grasping them as he hauls your arms up, pinning them against the couch above your head. Quickly, he ties his bandana around them, a smirk tilting his lips.
Softness creeps across his features momentarily as he looks down at you beneath him, and you know what he’s asking. “Havoc.” You re-confirm your safe word. You were entirely comfortable with this and had been the hundreds of times you’d done it before, but he always double-checked.
Shifting back to sit on his knees between your thighs, Hunter’s hands smooth across your body. You hadn’t been made for war or the frontlines, even though you’d insisted all those years ago on being out there with him and his brothers. You were softer, unable to take as many hits, making him want to protect you all the more.
You relax against the couch, content to let him lead, trusting him implicitly. He catches you off guard as he dips his head down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around the pebbled bud. Back arching, you huff a breath, squirming as his hands grasp your hips. His lips trail upwards, across your neck, leaving a mark on the other side to the one he’d made earlier. The sweet moan you let out is music to his sensitive ears.
“The way you sound pinned under me…fuck. Your moans are so pretty, cyar’ika. Can hear your heart racing too.” Hunter’s eyes close momentarily, losing one sense, further heightening the rest of them. He breathes in your scent once more, using one hand to pry your thighs further apart, dragging the velvety head of his cock through your slick folds. “So needy for me. This what you want?” He can’t help but tease, enjoying your whimpers and eager nod.
He makes you wait for a second, that mischievous glint in his eyes part of why you fell in love with him in the first place, and then you feel him press against your entrance, inch by glorious inch pushing into you. Your moan catches in your throat, pussy stretching to accommodate him until his hips are flush against you, heavy balls resting against your ass.
Hunter grunts as he bottoms out, eyes fluttering shut once again. “Such a good girl.” He murmurs, giving you a second to adjust before he pulls back and slams back in, making you both cry out. His eyes snap open, locked on your beautiful face as he sets a punishing pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your arms trapped above your head, completely at his mercy.
Fingers grasp your thighs, keeping you in place as he pounds into you. The couch creaks beneath you, but you pay it no mind, too focused on the pleasure building inside of you once again.
“Gonna fuck you every damn day until it sticks. Gonna make you a mommy.” Hunter snarls, watching your lips part, your head tipping backwards as you moan unabashedly. You clench around him, and he knows his words excite you.
He won’t last much longer, having been worked up since you’d told the doctor to remove the implant. He’d never been more grateful for loose-fitting pants in his life – walking out of the clinic with a boner was not something he wanted the island residents gossiping about.
Pulling out of you, he chuckles as you whine. “Patience, mesh’la.” He chides gently, strong hands grasping your hips as he flips you onto your front. He unties the bandana, letting it fall to the floor, and you grab at the arm of the couch as he hauls your ass up, fingernails clawing uselessly at the fabric.
On his knees behind you, Hunter pushes back in, setting a quick pace again. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, making your back arch, ass pressing against him. “Feel you so deep.” You gasp, hearing a deep rumble of pleasure from behind you moments before a hand grasps your hair, tugging your head backwards.
A sharp sound leaves you, eyes screwed shut at the combination of pleasure and pain that erupts in your body. The warmth in your body builds, the edge drawing oh so deliciously closer. Hunter keeps a hold of you as his thrusts pick up, eyes glancing down to watch his cock slide in and out of you a few times before his free hand snakes around you to rub your clit. “I can feel you squeezing me tight. You gonna cum on my cock, baby?” His pace is relentless, hand letting go of your hair a moment later as he eases you down, your cheek pressed against the couch, back arching beautifully. The change in angle is pure perfection.
“Hunter!” You cry out his name for the second time this afternoon as the pleasure crescendos, your body clenching around him, muscles spasming as you climax.  
With your body clamped around his cock, Hunter gives two final thrusts before he stills and presses himself against you, shoving in as deep as he can with a grunt as he cums. His thighs shake as the pleasure washes over him, cock twitching as he fills you.
The sound of both of your ragged breaths fills the room, and the pair of you spend a moment catching your breath. Gentle hands smooth across your back after a moment. “Keep that ass up, cyar’ika. Don’t waste any, even though there’s plenty more where that came from.” Hunter murmurs, folding himself over you as he drags his lips across your shoulder blade, tongue laving at your skin and the thin sheen of sweat on your body.
You let out a little noise of agreement, tilting your hips a fraction to ensure none of his release can escape. It draws a deep chuckle from him, and you bask in the sound.
“I love you.” He whispers, warm breath brushing against your ear as you feel him ease out of you, his softening cock resting against your ass.
“I love you too.” You reply quietly, head tilting to capture his lips in a sweet kiss as his hands slide around your body, resting against your stomach. 
As the kiss breaks, he presses his forehead to your back, warm hands rubbing gentle circles against your belly. “Stay like this a little longer, baby.” He insists, the quiet sounds of your synced-up breathing the only noise in the room.
You know it won’t take, but you stay still anyway, soaking in the moment and the feel of his body pressed against you, safe and happy in your little slice of paradise.
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artiststarme · 4 months
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It's No Secret... Anymore
Thank you to @mx-jinxous for the prompt! This took a really long time to write but it was so much fun playing with everyone's dynamics. I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
Steve felt like he was dreaming. It felt like he was looking through someone else’s eyes, dissociating far from his own body. He couldn’t feel the weight of Eddie’s slowly-fading body in his arms or the burning of the wounds in his sides. He wasn’t aware of where he was or if anyone was following him. He was purely relying on muscle memory and muscle memory alone. 
He didn’t see the speeding car in front of him that swerved into a nearby bush and fence post. He hardly noticed the hands pulling him backward and out of the road. He came back to himself though once he heard his brother’s voice. 
“Steve? Steve-O? Come on buddy, you’re worrying me here. Where have you been? I haven't seen your ass all week. Come on man, are you… are you fucking bleeding? Brother, answer me. We can’t be out here, there’s an earthquake going on. Come with me.”
Steve blinked just to come face to face with Phil. He was shining his flashlight on Eddie’s face against Steve’s shoulder but his eyes were focused directly on Steve’s.
“You with me, bro?” His mustache twitched unhappily and Steve rushed to answer. 
“Um, no. Not really. I think he’s dying and I kinda might be too. And I think my friends are missing? Where am I?” Steve couldn’t get his thoughts together cohesively. His mind was fractured, overcome with too much trauma in too little time. 
Phil just looked more concerned at his words with his face becoming vaguely panicked once he looked at Eddie. He looked quickly up at Steve, down at Eddie, then back at Steve. “Is this Eddie Munson? The murderer Eddie Munson? The Eddie Munson that has been on the run all week? Good golly Steve, I’m trying not to curse but what the fuck?”
Steve just looked at the pinched expression of pain that Eddie held and murmured, “he’s my friend.”
“Oh my god, Steve. Fine, we’ll deal with this later. Think you can walk to my squad car? I kinda damaged the front end but I’m sure it's semi-driveable. Powell’s tied up with the gates to hell opening up, I have plenty of time to take care of you.”
“Yeah, I can- I can walk,” and he could with the support of Phil. He felt his brother supporting both his and Eddie’s weight until they were deposited into the backseat of the patrol unit. 
“And uh, is the girl hiding in the bushes with you? She’s kinda been watching us for awhile. You might have a stalker, little bro.” He shined his flashlight over to the bush and saw a sandy bob duck behind the foliage. 
“Robin?” Steve muttered, still out of it and only on the verge of consciousness. 
“Buckley, is that you? Come on, you’re coming with us back to Steve’s place. Let’s go,” Phil waved the light between the two. He had both hands on his hips and stood like a disappointed middle-aged dad. “I don’t have time to be doing things willy-nilly. Let’s go!”
Robin poked her head out of the bushes and scooted gracelessly over to the car until she was able to bump elbows with Steve. They both relaxed a smidgen within the same space, the two brain cells reuniting after a stressful ten minutes apart.
Phil hopped in the driver’s seat and bumped his head against the steering wheel. What had this idiot gotten himself into now?
~*~*~*~
By the time Phil arrived at his house at the edge of the suburbs, all three kids were out cold in his backseat. He stood at the open back door for a moment before sighing and lugging first Robin, then Eddie, then Steve into his living room, huffing with exertion all the while. He would definitely have to cut back on the station donuts and start exercising again. Right after he dealt with the dying fugitive on his brother’s couch, the blood seeping through Steve’s shirt, and his brother’s unconscious best friend that was snoring atrociously. 
Jesus Christ. 
Well, he had plenty of practice with medical care from his EMT training so he got to work. He got the first aid kit out of the squad car and started with the murderous Munson. Phil didn’t know what had happened to these kids but it couldn’t be any good. Munson’s entire torso was torn apart like he’d been gnawed on by a wild animal. It wasn’t bleeding too bad but he was missing chunks of skin, so much so that Phil couldn’t sew him up with just sutures. Hell, this kid was going to need skin grafts. A lot of them. 
He put gauze on the worst of the wounds then cautiously stepped over to Steve. What he’d seen on Munson made him hesitant to look at the damage but surely it couldn’t be worse than that. Right? As soon as he lifted Steve’s shirt, he came immediately to two conclusions. 
1. Steve had a lot more chest hair than he did and that was totally unfair.
2. The wounds on Steve’s abdomen were deep, infected, and horrific. 
Just like with Munson, there was nothing to close. All he saw were missing chunks of skin and muscle that should have been in his sides. The marred remains were covered in grime and yellowish puss that made the entire room smell of infection. 
Fuck, he couldn’t help them here. He had to get them, all three of them because he wasn’t touching an unconscious girl for anything, to a hospital. But that begged the question; which hospital? Munson… Eddie was wanted all through the state of Indiana for at least three murders and an assault. If he took him to any nearby hospital, he would be arrested and surely there was more to the story if Steve was protecting him so much. He couldn’t let one of Steve’s only friends get arrested without hearing the story from the both of them. 
He had to take these three up to a hospital in Illinois. Chicago was roughly four hours away, he knew from his and Steve’s annual visits to their great aunt in Evanston. It was a risk, both for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive as well as hoping he survived that long of a drive, but his gut told him to trust his brother on this one. So that’s what he did. He loaded the three teens back into his patrol car and mumbled swears under his breath when he passed the “Leaving Hawkins” sign. He hoped to all that was mighty that he was making a good call. 
~*~*~*~
Steve woke up to familiar voices; one hushed and one screeching. 
“You kidnapped them?! You’re a cop, I thought you would help them but instead you drove them all the way to goddamn Chicago like some middle-aged pervert loser?” Steve came around to a loud argument between what sounded like Dustin and Phil. It was weird though because he’d never introduced the two. 
“Hey, listen here shithead, words hurt. I am not middle-aged, I’m 28. And why would I kidnap my own brother? I can legally take him anywhere, it's practically my birthright. I don’t have to go through all the work of kidnapping him.” Phil shook his head at Dustin.
“Stop trying to trick me, I know Eddie is an only child!”
“Munson?! I’m Steve’s big brother, you little gremlin. Can’t you see the resemblance?” He gestured between where Steve was groggily looking up at him and then back at himself. 
“No, but I can’t see anything past your outrageous mustache.” Steve saw Phil’s jaw drop and knew that Dustin had crossed a line. 
“You short fucker, that is too far! I take a lot of pride in this ‘outrageous mustache’,” Phil put air quotes around the offending remake before pointing an aggressive finger in Dustin’s direction. “I will absolutely take you off the visitation list, toothless. Do not test me.” 
“Don’t threaten me, I’ll report you to the authorities!” Dustin countered. 
“I am the authorities!” Phil dropped all decorum and screamed at practically the top of his lungs. 
Sensing enough was enough, Steve tried to push himself up to a sitting position before a burning in his sides caused him to fall back down. Both men (or one man and Dustin) stopped their squabbling and rushed to his sides.
“Steve, you’re hurt so don’t try to get up. Shit kid, let me get a nurse or something. You weren’t doing too hot.” With that Phil sprinted out of the room, presumably to the nurse’s station and Steve was left with Dustin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin. 
He looked blearily at all of them before asking the most important question, “where’s Eddie?”
They all parted to reveal Eddie lying in the bed next to him. His neck and chest were covered with bandages but his face looked peaceful. There were no cuffs on his wrists as Steve assumed there would be. He laid back again and let out a sigh. Everything was as it should be, he could finally relax.
“Um so Steve, don’t be mad but your brother can be really persuasive when he wants to be and you never introduced him as your brother so I just kind of assumed that we were getting captured by the police and that it was going to be so much worse than the Russians because I always thought Officer Callahan was kind of psycho. But then I woke up here and he bought me Cheetos so everything is fine. Except it's kind of not because you and Eddie have been out for a couple of days and I told Big Not-Harrington about the Upside Down and now he’s really worried. Why did you have to stay asleep so long, dingus? I missed you!”
Steve honestly zoned out when he heard “Cheetos” and only tuned back in when Robin, the usual physical affection-hater, threw herself on top of him in a hug. He withheld the grunt of pain and held her back just as hard. 
“What the hell just happened, bro? Like that was a lot of words, little bird lady. Woah.”
Steve didn’t know if he was hallucinating the long-haired surfer in a Hawaiian outfit or if Vecna had somehow managed to melt his mind after all but he had never been more confused in his life to see the new visitor make themselves known. 
“Who the fuck is that?” He muttered in absolute bafflement. 
Dustin sighed as he too wrestled a hug from Steve, “that’s Argyle. Come on, Steve. Keep up.”
“Like the sock pattern? How many drugs am I on right now?!”
~*~*~*~
“... and that’s kind of why I didn’t tell you about the Upside Down,” Steve finished from his seat beside Eddie, their hands tangled together as they both sat across from Phil. 
He looked at both of them with a completely deadpan stare. “Again, but the truth this time.”
Eddie huffed in annoyance. “We are telling you the truth, man! An evil wizard guy named Vecna-”
“Slash Henry, slash One,” Steve and Robin interjected in unison.
“-possessed four teenagers to end the world or something and broke their bodies apart with his mind. Then the angry mob thought it was me but I would never kill anyone, especially not Chrissy. She was always really nice to me and remembered my band from the talent show in middle school. And then we got stuck in Hell where evil demon bats ate our flesh and tentacles ripped through the earth. Then we saved Nancy from the evil mind melt powers by playing her favorite song. After that, we made a plan and she shot Vecna and killed him while Dustin and I were decoys where I was attacked.”
“Then I went back for Eddie and carried him out where you almost ran us over. The end,” Steve emphasized the finale with a deliberate nod of his still-aching head. 
Phil looked at them with the most exasperation Steve had ever seen in his life. He let out a pitying chuckle, his poor brother didn’t sign up for this. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
Phil's eyes rolled so hard that Steve could tell he saw stars. He could almost see the scream being prepared in his throat and couldn't gather enough strength to escape it.
"STEVEN MICHAEL HARRINGTON, WHAT THE MOTHERLOVING FUCK?!"
"Look Philly, I'll say it one more time then I'm done, okay? It first started way back when Will Byers went missing in 1983..."
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svteclipwze · 12 days
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𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖘 :- His obssesion |Kim Mingyu
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Pairing:- Kim Mingyu x f!reader
Genre:- Minors do not interact, 18+content only, smuts, hard/Dom mingyu, sub reader, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames (darling, babygirl, baby, sweetheart, my slut etc), dirty talking, oral(f! m! receiving), squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, shower sex,couch sex, kidnapping, spanking , spitting. (Let me know if there's more)
Wc:- 30k +
Synopsis:- In the ruthless underworld ruled by Mingyu, his dark aura commands obedience and his word is law. Women flock to him, but when his gaze locks onto her for just a fleeting moment, Mingyu's insatiable desire ignites. Determined to possess her, he embarks on a relentless pursuit, where passion blurs the lines between love and danger. As Mingyu navigates the treacherous world of power and desire, he must confront his own demons to claim the ultimate prize—her heart.
warnings:- minors strictly do not interact/you'll be blocked asap.
A/n:- this is my first fic on Tumblr,no reqs this is my own idea, hope you like it , your comments and reblogs and support means alot to me.
Notes:-All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced , transmitted or distributed on any forms without the prior of the rightful owner.
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Y/N, the epitome of sass and style. As the only daughter of a prominent family, she reigns supreme as the queen bee of her social circle. With an undeniable allure and confidence, Y/N effortlessly commands attention wherever she goes. Her magnetic personality draws others in, while her impeccable sense of style sets her apart as a trendsetter.
Despite her self-assured exterior, Y/N possesses a complexity that transcends mere vanity, revealing glimpses of her ambivert nature and inner depths. In a world where every boy vies for her affection, Y/N navigates the complexities of popularity with grace and poise, leaving a trail of admirers in her wake.
Her laughter is like music, tinkling with the promise of mischief and merriment, while her eyes sparkle with the fire of a thousand stars, daring anyone to challenge her authority.
With a flip of her glossy locks and a flick of her perfectly manicured nails, she commands the attention of all who cross her path, her aura suffused with the irresistible charm of a modern-day princess.
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In the sleek, modern elegance of her luxurious bedroom, Y/N lounges on a plush bed adorned with sleek linens and designer pillows, her phone cradled between her ear and shoulder as she multitasks with effortless grace.
The room is bathed in the soft glow of contemporary lighting, casting a warm ambiance over the space as music streams from state-of-the-art speakers, filling the air with pulsating beats and infectious rhythms.
As she blows on her freshly painted nails, the soft scent of her favorite face mask fills the room, its luxurious ingredients working their magic on her skin as she indulges in a moment of self-care amidst the hustle and bustle of her glamorous lifestyle.
On the other end of the line, her friends chatter excitedly about their plans for the evening, their voices a symphony of laughter and anticipation that adds to the electric atmosphere of Y/N's bedroom.
"Oh my gosh, you guys, I just found the perfect outfit for tonight!" one of her friends exclaims, the excitement palpable in her voice. "It's straight off the runway, and I swear, it was made for me!"
Y/N's laughter rings out, a tinkling melody that dances through the air like champagne bubbles. "I can't wait to see it! You know we're going to be the best-dressed squad in the club tonight."
As they discuss the details of their evening plans, ideas fly back and forth like sparks of creativity, each suggestion more daring and exhilarating than the last. From trendy rooftop bars to exclusive VIP lounges, the night is ripe with possibilities, and Y/N can feel the excitement building in the pit of her stomach with each passing moment.
"Let's start with drinks at that new rooftop spot downtown," another friend suggests, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "And then we can hit up that exclusive club that just opened up. I heard the music there is insane."
Y/N's eyes sparkle with anticipation at the thought of the night ahead, her pulse quickening with the thrill of adventure. "Sounds like a plan," she agrees, her voice a confident purr. "Tonight, we're going to paint the town red and leave a trail of unforgettable memories in our wake."
With a final exchange of laughter and well-wishes, Y/N bids her friends farewell, the excitement of the night ahead coursing through her veins like electricity. As she sinks back into the plush comfort of her bed, she knows that tonight will be a night to remember—a night of laughter, luxury, and the kind of exhilarating freedom that only comes from being young, rich, and fabulous.
As Y/N meticulously applies her makeup, her skilled hands deftly tracing bold, glittery patterns across her eyelids and accentuating her features with a touch of glamour, she can't help but admire the striking reflection that stares back at her from the mirror. With each stroke of the brush, she transforms herself into a vision of beauty and confidence, her lips painted a vibrant shade of red that demands attention and commands respect.
As she slips into her chosen outfit—a short, revealing bodycon dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination—Y/N feels a surge of empowerment wash over her. The fabric clings to her like a second skin, accentuating her assets and showcasing her undeniable allure with every step she takes.
With a final flourish, she runs her fingers through her hair, coaxing it into sleek waves that cascade down her shoulders like liquid silk. As she gazes at her reflection in the mirror, a smile tugs at the corners of her lips, her eyes sparkling with confidence and self-assurance.
"You look fabulous, darling," she murmurs to herself, her voice a husky whisper that carries the weight of her undeniable charisma.
With a playful wink and a blown kiss to her reflection, she turns on her heels and sashays out of the room, ready to conquer the world with her intoxicating charm and unapologetic confidence.
Y/N descends the staircase with the grace of a queen, her heels clicking against the polished marble floors with each confident step. As she reaches the bottom, she finds her father reclining on the couch, his eyes fixed on the television screen, while her mother bustles about in the kitchen, the sound of running water mingling with the gentle hum of conversation.
"Where are you heading now, young lady?" her father inquires, his tone laced with a hint of concern as he tears his gaze away from the television to look at his daughter.
Y/N meets her father's gaze with a cool confidence, her lips curved into a playful smile. "To have fun, Dad," she replies, her voice carrying the unmistakable lilt of mischief.
Her mother, still busy at the sink, chimes in with a note of caution. "Wearing that—"
But Y/N cuts her off with a wave of her hand, her eyes flashing with defiance. "Mom, chill," she interjects, her tone tinged with exasperation. "I'm a big girl now. I can handle myself."
With a flick of her hair, Y/N turns towards the door, her resolve unwavering. "Anyway, don't worry about me," she adds, her voice softening just a fraction. "And don't wait up for me. I'll probably stay at Amira's place tonight."
Her parents exchange a glance, their expressions a mixture of concern and resignation. But before they can protest further, Y/N is already out the door, leaving behind a trail of uncertainty and unanswered questions in her wake.
Y/N steps outside to find her friends Amira and Isla waiting for her in the sleek, gleaming car, their faces lighting up with excitement as they catch sight of her. With squeals of delight, they eagerly beckon her over, their laughter echoing through the night air as Y/N approaches with a confident swagger.
"Girl, you look absolutely stunning!" Amira exclaims, her eyes sparkling with admiration as she takes in Y/N's flawless ensemble.
Y/N strikes a pose, her hips cocked to the side and her hand resting on one perfectly sculpted hip. "Thanks, but do I look fat?" she asks teasingly, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Her friends exchange a knowing glance, their lips curling into matching grins. "Fat? Girl, you couldn't look fat if you tried," Isla retorts with a playful roll of her eyes. "You look fabulous, as always."
Y/N throws her head back with a laugh, the sound ringing out like crystal bells in the cool night air. "Fabulous of all time, huh?" she quips, her voice dripping with sass.
Amira nods enthusiastically, her excitement palpable. "Absolutely! Now let's get this party started, ladies!" she declares, her words punctuated by a chorus of cheers and high-fives from the group.
As they pile into the car, the air crackles with the energy of anticipation and the promise of adventure. With Y/N at the wheel and her friends by her side, they set off into the night, ready to conquer the world one fabulous moment at a time.
And as the city lights blur past them in a kaleidoscope of color and motion, they know that tonight will be a night to remember—a night of laughter, love, and the kind of unforgettable memories that can only be made with your closest friends by your side.
Or maybe not.
As the car glides to a stop at the entrance of the rooftop bar, Y/N and her friends step out into a world of luxury and excitement. The bar is an oasis of modern sophistication, with sleek furnishings and an open-air layout that offers breathtaking views of the city skyline. Twinkling fairy lights and flickering candles cast a warm glow over the space, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and allure.
As they make their way to a cozy corner booth, the sound of laughter and lively conversation fills the air, mingling with the soft strains of music drifting from hidden speakers. The bar is alive with energy, the air thick with the scent of exotic cocktails and the promise of endless possibilities.
With a round of drinks in hand, the girls settle into their seats, the clink of glasses and the hum of conversation punctuating the pulsating beat of the music. As they sip on their colorful concoctions, the night stretches out before them like a canvas waiting to be painted with memories.
Y/N leans forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she raises her glass in a toast to her friends.
"Here's to us," she declares, her voice ringing out clear and confident above the din of the crowd. "To nights like these, where the drinks are flowing and the possibilities are endless."
Amira grins, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she clinks her glass against Y/N's. "Cheers to that!" she exclaims, her enthusiasm infectious as she takes a sip of her cocktail.
Isla nods in agreement, her eyes alight with anticipation. "I love nights like these," she admits, her voice soft with emotion. "When we can forget about the stresses of everyday life and just focus on having fun together."
As the night wears on and the drinks continue to flow, the conversation becomes more animated, the laughter more raucous.
And as they dance beneath the star-studded sky, the world falls away, leaving only the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the electric energy of the night.
In that moment, Y/N felt a bit dizzy as she excuse herself and went outside.
As Y/N steps outside the bar, her mind still swirling with the effects of the alcohol, a sudden pang of panic shoots through her chest as she realizes her phone is missing. Frantically patting down her pockets and searching through her purse, she curses under her breath, her heart racing with apprehension.
Before she can fully process her predicament, she finds herself surrounded by a group of imposing figures, their menacing silhouettes looming over her like shadows in the night. Her pulse quickens as she takes in their intimidating presence, her voice trembling with uncertainty as she demands to know their identity.
"Who are you guys?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes darting nervously from one face to another in search of answers.
But the men remain silent, their expressions stoic and unreadable as they close in around her, their movements coordinated and deliberate. Panic rises within Y/N like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm her as she struggles to make sense of the situation.
Before she can react, her surroundings seem to blur and darken, the world tilting on its axis as she feels herself slipping away into unconsciousness.
With a last desperate gasp for air, she collapses someone's arm, the sound of her own heartbeat echoing in her ears as everything fades to black.
In the darkness, her mind races with questions and fears, her thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and terror. What do these men want from her? Where are they taking her? And most importantly, will she ever see her friends again?
As she drifts into unconsciousness, a sense of helplessness washes over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and alone in a world gone mad. And as the darkness claims her, she can only hope and pray that someone, somewhere, will come to her rescue before it's too late.
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As Y/N's eyes flutter open, she finds herself enveloped in darkness, the air thick with an oppressive silence that presses down on her like a weight. With a groan, she sits up, her head spinning and her heart pounding in her chest as she tries to make sense of her surroundings.
"Hello?" she calls out, her voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. But there is no response, only the eerie stillness of the empty space surrounding her.
As she struggles to push herself off the bed, a cold shiver runs down her spine as she realizes that her dress is gone, replaced by a small red nightgown that clings to her skin like a second skin. Panic rises within her like a tide, threatening to drown her in its suffocating grip as she frantically searches for her belongings.
Her hands shake as she rummages through the room, her fingers fumbling over every surface in a desperate attempt to find her phone. But it's nowhere to be found, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable in the darkness.
Fear tightens its grip around her heart as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Who are these people? What do they want from her? And why has she been stripped of her clothes and left alone in this ominous room?
With a sense of urgency driving her forward, Y/N hurries towards the door at the end of the room, her fingers trembling as she reaches out to twist the knob. To her surprise, the door swings open with ease, revealing a dimly lit hallway.
As Y/N cautiously makes her way down the dark hallway, her heart pounding in her chest, she can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at her insides like a hungry beast.
As she reaches the bottom of the stairs, her senses on high alert, she is met with a chilling silence that echoes through the empty space like a death knell. The air hangs heavy with the scent of ancient wood and musty velvet, a stark contrast to the opulent surroundings that surround her.
Heart racing, she takes a hesitant step forward, her mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. But before she can make a move, her hand brushes against a nearby vase, sending it crashing to the ground with a deafening clatter.
"Fuck," she curses under her breath, her heart sinking with dread as she realizes that her clumsy mistake has likely alerted whoever—or whatever—lurks in the shadows.
But before she can make a run for it, a deep, husky voice cuts through the silence like a knife, freezing her in her tracks.
"Where are you going, babygirl?" the voice rumbles, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine as she whirls around to face the source of the sound.
Her eyes widen in terror as she finds herself face to face with a figure cloaked in darkness, their features obscured by the dim light that filters through the murky depths of the room.
Fear grips Y/N like a vice as she struggles to find her voice, her mind racing with a thousand questions and a million possibilities. But in that moment, all she can do is stand frozen in place, her breath caught in her throat as she waits for whatever comes next.
As Y/N's heart races with fear and uncertainty, she struggles to make out the features of the figure emerging from the shadows. With a shaky breath, she manages to stammer out a question, her voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and terror.
"Who are you?" she demands, her words echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room.
As the figure steps into the light, Y/N's breath catches in her throat, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief at the sight before her. Clad in a black shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of chiseled chest, with perfectly tailored pants and sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, muscular arms, the man standing before her exudes an aura of raw power and undeniable allure.
His hair is impeccably styled, framing a face that could only be described as sculpted by the gods themselves. With piercing eyes that seem to see straight into her soul and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, he is the epitome of masculine perfection—a Greek god in human form.
But it's not just his appearance that leaves Y/N breathless—it's the aura of danger and intrigue that surrounds him like a cloak, the way he carries himself with a confidence bordering on arrogance, and the glint of mischief in his eyes that sends a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.
He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his movements fluid and graceful as he closes the distance between them, a tumbler of whisky clutched casually in one hand.
"I'm the one who's been waiting for you, babygirl," he purrs, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine.
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as she struggles to find her voice, her mind reeling with a million questions and a million more emotions.
Who is this mysterious stranger? What does he want from her? And why does his presence fill her with equal parts fear and desire?
But as she looks into his smoldering gaze, she knows one thing for certain—her life will never be the same again.
Y/N's voice quivers with a mix of fear and bravado as she confronts the enigmatic stranger who stands before her, his presence casting a spell of uncertainty over her senses. With a trembling hand, she gestures towards herself, her words dripping with defiance.
"Do you even know who I am?" she challenges, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and bravado. "If my dad finds out about you, he will kill you."
The stranger's lips curl into a sardonic smile, amusement dancing in his eyes as he regards her with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. With a casual shrug, he takes a sip of his whisky, the liquid burning a fiery trail down his throat as he savors the taste.
"Oh, is that so?" he replies, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. "And just who might you be, darling?"
Y/N's jaw clenches with frustration at his dismissive tone, her pulse quickening with a surge of adrenaline as she struggles to maintain her composure in the face of his unflappable demeanor.
"Yes," she retorts, her voice dripping with icy determination. "You have made a grave mistake by kidnapping me. My father will stop at nothing to find me, and when he does, you will pay dearly for your actions."
The stranger chuckles softly, the sound sending a chill down Y/N's spine as she braces herself for his response. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he takes a step closer, the air crackling with tension between them.
"Ah, but my dear, you underestimate me," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "I am not afraid of your father, or anyone else for that matter. And as for your so-called 'kidnapping,' well, let's just say that things are not always as they seem."
Y/N's voice trembles with a mix of anger and defiance as she steps forward to confront the towering figure before her, her petite frame dwarfed by his imposing presence. With fire blazing in her eyes, she squares her shoulders and meets his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his intimidating demeanor.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?" she demands, her voice laced with venom as she levels a fierce glare at him.
Mingyu's lips quirk into a smirk at her boldness, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he regards her with a mixture of intrigue and admiration.
With a casual shrug, he takes a step closer, his towering height casting a long shadow over her diminutive form.
"Finally, a nice question," he replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he meets her gaze with a look of unabashed amusement. "As for who I am, well, that's a bit more complicated."
Y/N narrows her eyes, refusing to be swayed by his smooth words and confident demeanor. She knows that there is more to this man than meets the eye, and she is determined to uncover the truth no matter the cost.
"Cut the bullshit," she snaps, her voice cracking with pent-up frustration. "I want answers, and I want them now. Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
Mingyu's smirk widens into a grin at her defiance, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker, something more primal. With a predatory glint in his gaze, he leans in close, his breath hot against her ear as he speaks in a low, husky whisper.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. But don't worry, all will be revealed in due time. For now, just sit back and enjoy the ride."
"Enjoy the ride well fuck that shit, I am leaving." Her defiant words hang in the air like a challenge, her determination shining through despite the fear that courses through her veins. With a determined glare, she turns to leave, intent on escaping this nightmare and reclaiming her freedom.
But before she can take a single step, Mingyu's powerful grip tightens around her throat, pinning her against the wall with a force that leaves her breathless. The air rushes from her lungs in a desperate gasp as his touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins, igniting a fire that burns hot and fierce within her.
"Step one foot outside this mansion, and you won't like what comes next," he warns, his voice low and dangerous as he leans in close, his breath hot against her skin. His words hang in the air like a dark promise, a chilling reminder of the power he wields over her fate.
Y/N's heart races with a mixture of fear and desire as she meets his intense gaze, her pulse quickening with each passing moment.
Despite the danger that surrounds her, there is something undeniably exhilarating about being in such close proximity to this enigmatic stranger, something that sets her ablaze with a hunger she cannot ignore.
But even as her body betrays her with its response to his touch, her mind screams for her to fight back, to break free from his grasp and run as far and as fast as she can. She knows that she should be afraid of him, that she should despise him for what he has done to her.
And yet, as Mingyu's eyes bore into hers with a fierce intensity that threatens to consume her whole, she cannot deny the undeniable pull she feels towards him, the magnetic attraction that binds them together in this dangerous dance of desire and despair.
In that moment, as their bodies press together in a tangle of heat and urgency, Y/N knows that she is teetering on the edge of a precipice, her fate hanging in the balance as she grapples with the overwhelming force of her desire for this dark and dangerous man.
"Don't touch me." Her voice comes out as a barely audible whisper, her breath hitching in her throat as Mingyu's smirk widens in response to her plea.
With a casual shrug, he backs off slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he holds up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.
"As you wish, princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "I won't touch you unless you give me permission."
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as she meets his gaze, her body still pressed against the wall as if rooted in place by some invisible force.
She can feel the tension crackling in the air between them, thick and palpable as desire courses through her veins like a wildfire.
But before she can respond, Mingyu speaks again, his words sending a chill down her spine even as a shiver of anticipation races down her spine.
"From now on, you belong to me," he declares, his voice low and commanding. "Whether you like it or not, you will do as I say."
As he takes a sip of his whisky, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light of the room, Y/N's mind races with a thousand questions and a million fears. She knows that she is in deep trouble, that she is at the mercy of this dark and dangerous man who holds her fate in his hands.
"And don't even think of running away," Mingyu continues, his tone ominous as he fixes her with a steely gaze. "Because no matter where you go, I will always find you."
Y/N's breath catches in her throat at his words, her mind reeling with the implications of his threat. She knows that she is trapped, ensnared in a web of desire and danger from which there may be no escape.
Y/N's voice trembles with a mix of curiosity and apprehension as she repeats the question that has been burning in her mind since the moment she laid eyes on Mingyu.
"Who are you?" she whispers, her words hanging in the air like a challenge, daring him to reveal the truth behind the enigma that is Mingyu.
Mingyu lets out a soft sigh, his gaze drifting away for a moment as if lost in thought before returning to lock onto hers with an intensity that sends a shiver down her spine.
"Again with the same question," he muses, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."
He gestures for her to come closer, his voice soft and coaxing as he invites her to join him on the couch. But Y/N shakes her head defiantly, refusing to obey his command.
"Alright, if standing is more comfortable for you," he concedes with a shrug, settling back onto the couch with a casual grace that belies the tension simmering beneath the surface.
But Y/N refuses to be deterred, her determination fueling her courage as she meets his gaze head-on once more.
"Who are you?" she demands, her voice stronger now, tinged with a hint of desperation as she searches for answers in the depths of his dark eyes.
Mingyu's lips curve into a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and intrigue as he leans in closer, his breath warm against her skin.
"I am whoever you want me to be, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But for now, let's just say that I'm the man who's going to make all your wildest fantasies come true."
Y/N's heart races at his words, her pulse quickening with a heady mix of anticipation and fear as she struggles to resist the pull of his magnetic charm.
Y/N's frustration boils over, her patience worn thin by Mingyu's evasive answers and tantalizing charm. With a fierce determination, she cuts through the tension with her words, her voice ringing out with a mix of desperation and defiance.
"Please, stop playing games with me," she implores, her voice cracking with emotion. "Just tell me, what's your fucking name?"
Mingyu's laughter fills the room, a rich, melodious sound that washes over her like a wave, stirring something deep within her as she watches him with a mixture of irritation and fascination.
"You curse a lot from that pretty mouth of yours," he observes, his voice laced with amusement as he meets her gaze with a playful glint in his eyes.
Y/N's cheeks flush with embarrassment at his comment, her anger momentarily forgotten as she grapples with the unexpected compliment. Despite herself, she can't help but feel a surge of warmth at his words, a thrill coursing through her veins at the thought of being the object of his attention.
But even as her heart races with the heady rush of desire, she knows that she cannot let herself be swayed by his charm. She needs answers, and she won't rest until she gets them.
"Stop deflecting," she insists, her voice firm as she meets his gaze head-on. "I want to know who you are, and I want to know now."
Mingyu's expression softens, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he regards her with a newfound sense of respect. He stood up from the couch and walks towards her.
"Alright, alright," he concedes with a sigh, his tone more serious now as he leans in closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sends a shiver down her spine.
"My name is Mingyu," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face.
A smirk tugs at Mingyu's lips as he leans back, his gaze locked onto Y/N with a smoldering intensity that sends a shiver down her spine. With a casual flick of his hand, he brushes off her question as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze, his voice dripping with confidence and arrogance.
"I bet you've heard of me," he says, his tone low and smooth, laced with a hint of amusement. "I don't need to explain myself, do I?"
Y/N's breath catches in her throat at his words, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts and a million questions.
Mingyu's reputation precedes him like a dark shadow cast over the city, his name whispered in hushed tones by those who dare to speak it. He is the epitome of danger, a force to be reckoned with, and his mere presence strikes fear into the hearts of those who cross his path.
As the leader of one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the country, Mingyu commands respect and obedience from all who serve under him. His word is law, his will absolute, and those who dare to defy him do so at their own peril.
With a ruthless cunning and a steely resolve, Mingyu has built his empire from the ground up, leaving a trail of destruction and chaos in his wake. He is a man of few words, preferring to let his actions speak for themselves, but when he does speak, his words carry the weight of authority and power.
But whether he is capable of redemption or destined to remain a prisoner of his own ruthless ambition remains to be seen. For now, Mingyu is a man of mystery and danger, a figure of awe and dread whose name strikes fear into the hearts of all who hear it.
But even as fear gnaws at the edges of her mind, there is something undeniably thrilling about being in the presence of such a dangerous and enigmatic man, something that sets her pulse racing and her heart pounding in her chest.
"What do you want from me?" she demands once more, her voice trembling with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Mingyu's smirk widens into a knowing grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against her skin.
"What do I want from you?" he muses, his voice low and seductive as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Oh, sweetheart, the possibilities are endless."
Y/N's heart races at his words, her pulse quickening with a heady mix of excitement and fear. She knows that she should be afraid of him, that she should run as far and as fast as she can.
But in that moment, as Mingyu's eyes lock onto hers with a fierce intensity that threatens to consume her whole, she cannot deny the undeniable pull she feels towards him, the magnetic attraction that binds them together in this dangerous dance of desire and despair.
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆..⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆˚。⋆。
Y/N stands on the balcony, the soft satin gown clinging to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her every movement with an air of effortless sensuality. Her hair cascades in loose waves down her back, the soft glow of the moonlight casting a halo around her as she gazes out into the night.
It's been one week since she was kidnapped by the infamous Mingyu, and despite her initial fear and apprehension, she can't deny the strange allure he holds over her. There's something about him, something dangerous and forbidden, that draws her in like a moth to a flame.
Unable to resist the pull any longer, Y/N turns on her heels and makes her way out of the room, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
The bodyguards stationed outside simply bow their heads in acknowledgment as she passes, their silent presence a constant reminder of the captivity she finds herself in.
As she steps into Mingyu's room, the air is thick with the scent of musk and spice, the darkness enveloping her like a warm embrace.
The sound of water running draws her attention to the glass wall shower, the steam obscuring her view but heightening her senses in the process.
With hesitant steps, Y/N approaches the shower, her pulse quickening with each passing moment as she imagines the man behind the steam.
She knows she shouldn't be here, knows she should turn and run before it's too late. But something deep within her compels her forward, driving her towards the unknown with an irresistible force.
As Y/N pushes open the shower door, her breath catches in her throat at the sight before her. Mingyu stands beneath the cascading water, his sculpted physique glistening with droplets of water that cling to his skin like liquid diamonds.
Every muscle is defined and taut, his broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waistline, exuding an aura of raw power and masculinity.
But Mingyu is unaware of her presence, lost in the blissful oblivion of the steaming water as it cascades over his toned form. Y/N's heart races with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as she steps closer, her fingers trembling with the desire to touch him, to feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips.
With hesitant steps, she approaches him from behind, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she reaches out to caress his back.
Mingyu's body tenses at her touch, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he turns around to face her, his eyes dark and smoldering with desire.
Their gazes lock in a silent exchange of longing and passion, the air thick with tension as they stand on the precipice of temptation. Y/N's heart pounds in her chest, her pulse quickening with each passing moment as she meets Mingyu's intense gaze with a fierce determination of her own.
"I didn't expect to find you here," Mingyu murmurs, his voice low and husky as he takes in her appearance, his eyes roaming over her satin-clad form with hunger and longing. "But I'm certainly not complaining."
Y/N's fingertips trace the contours of Mingyu's chiseled abs, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins as he watches her with a smoldering intensity.
His breath hitches in his throat as her touch ignites a fire within him, desire roaring to life like a raging inferno.
But before he can react, Y/N suddenly backs away, her movements filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. Mingyu's heart pounds in his chest as he watches her, his desire burning hotter with each passing moment.
Without a word, Mingyu closes the distance between them in a single stride, his hands reaching out to grab her arms and pull her into his embrace.
Y/N gasps in surprise as he presses her against the steamy glass wall of the shower, his lips crashing down on hers in a fierce and demanding kiss.
Their mouths collide in a clash of tongues and teeth, the taste of desire and desperation mingling on their lips as they lose themselves in the heat of the moment.
Mingyu's hands roam over Y/N's body with a possessive urgency, his touch igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole.
The steam swirls around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of heat and passion as they lose themselves in each other, their bodies moving together in a primal dance of desire and need. Mingyu's kisses grow rougher and more insistent, his hunger for her driving him to new heights of ecstasy.
Y/N moans into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrenders to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure coursing through her veins.
Mingyu's touch is like fire against her skin, his hands leaving a trail of heat in their wake as they explore every inch of her body with a fervent hunger.
Y/N gasps as Mingyu's hands roam over her body, his touch igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole.
She can feel the heat of his desire pulsing against her skin, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass as he pulls her closer, his lips trailing hot kisses along her neck.
Her breath comes in ragged gasps as Mingyu's lips find their way to her neck, his mouth trailing a path of fire across her skin as he sucks and nips at her sensitive flesh.
She arches into his touch, her hands clutching at his shoulders as she surrenders herself to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure coursing through her veins.
"Mingyu," she moans, her voice a breathless whisper as she presses herself against him, her body aching with need for him. "Please, I need you."
Mingyu's response is a low growl of desire as he captures her lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a fierce and passionate dance. Their mouths move together in perfect synchrony, their desire igniting like wildfire as they lose themselves in the heat of the moment.
Y/N's breath catches in her throat as Mingyu's fingers trail lower, tracing the outline of her soaked panties with a tantalizing touch that sends shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.
She gasps in anticipation as he teases and tantalizes her, his touch setting her alight with a burning desire that threatens to consume her whole.
Mingyu's fingers dance over her panties with a skillful precision, his touch sending waves of ecstasy crashing over her like a tidal wave.
She arches into his touch, her body trembling with need as he presses her against the glass wall of the shower, the water cascading over them in a torrent of heat and desire.
Their eyes lock in a silent exchange of longing and passion, the air thick with tension as they surrender themselves to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that courses through their veins.
Mingyu's lips find hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a fierce and primal dance as they lose themselves in the heat of the moment.
"I want to feel you," Mingyu murmurs against her lips, his voice rough with desire as he trails kisses down the curve of her neck. "I want to taste you, to make you mine."
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as Mingyu's words send a thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins. She moans in ecstasy as his fingers slide past the barrier of her panties, teasing and tantalizing her with a skillful touch that threatens to drive her to the brink of madness.
The water cascades over them in a torrent of heat and desire, the steam swirling around them like a veil of passion as Mingyu presses her against the glass wall, his fingers plunging deeper into her with a fierce and unrelenting hunger.
Their bodies move together in perfect synchrony, their desire igniting like wildfire as they surrender themselves completely to the ecstasy of the moment. Mingyu's touch is rough and demanding, his fingers driving her to new heights of pleasure with each passing moment.
Y/N moans in ecstasy as Mingyu's lips find hers once more, their kisses growing more urgent and passionate with each passing moment. She clings to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washes over her like a tidal wave.
Y/N's breath hitches in her throat as Mingyu's fingers plunge deep inside her, filling her with a delicious sense of fullness that sends waves of pleasure crashing over her like a tidal wave.
She moans in ecstasy as he thrusts and pumps his fingers with a rough and relentless urgency, driving her to the brink of madness with each powerful stroke.
Mingyu's touch is electric, igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that courses through her veins.
She arches into his touch, her body trembling with need as he drives her higher and higher with each passing moment.
"Oh God, Mingyu," she moans, her voice a breathless whisper as she clings to him desperately, her nails digging into his skin as she surrenders herself completely to the ecstasy of the moment. "Don't stop, please don't stop I am close."
Mingyu's only response is a low, guttural growl of desire as he continues to fuck his fingers into her with a rough and relentless urgency, his movements becoming faster and more frantic with each passing moment.
He can feel her walls tightening around his fingers, her body quivering with the promise of release as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy.
"Come for me, baby," Mingyu murmurs against her ear, his voice rough with desire as he drives her higher and higher with each powerful thrust of his fingers. "Give in to the pleasure, let go and let me take you there."
Y/N's whole body tenses as she feels the sweet release of orgasm wash over her like a tidal wave, her cries of ecstasy echoing off the walls of the shower as
Mingyu continues to drive her to new heights of pleasure with his skilled touch.
"Just fuck me already".Her breath hitches in her throat as she utters those words, her desire burning brightly as Mingyu smirks in response, his own desire evident in the glint of his eyes.
"Your wish is my command, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he lines up his throbbing member against her slick entrance.
With a swift thrust of his hips, Mingyu plunges deep inside her, their bodies becoming one in a frenzy of passion and desire.
Y/N moans in ecstasy as she feels him fill her completely, her walls tightening around him in a delicious embrace as he begins to move inside her with a rough and relentless urgency.
Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, their movements synchronized in a primal dance of lust and longing. Mingyu's hands roam over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that courses through her veins.
Their moans mingle together in the heated air of the shower, the sound of their passion filling the room as Mingyu's thrusts become harder and more frantic with each passing moment. Y/N's nails dig into his back, her body arching into his touch as she rides the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole.
"Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice a desperate plea as he thrusts deep inside her, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of passion and desire. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through her veins, her senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely by him.
Mingyu's movements are rough and urgent, his need driving him to new heights of passion as he seeks to claim Y/N as his own. Their bodies collide with a primal force, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air as they lose themselves in the heat of the moment.
Y/N's nails dig into Mingyu's back, her body arching into his touch as she rides the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole. Every thrust sends her closer to the edge, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of ecstasy.
Their moans mingle together in a symphony of passion and desire, the sound echoing off the walls of the shower as Mingyu's thrusts become faster and more frantic with each passing moment.
Y/N's body trembles with the force of her release, her cries of pleasure filling the room as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washes over her like a tidal wave.
"I'm close, Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice thick with desire as she feels the heat building in the pit of her stomach. Mingyu's own moans mingle with hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he nears the brink of ecstasy.
"Me too, baby, me too," he groans, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic with each passing moment. He leans in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispers, "Just tell me where you want it."
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as she struggles to form coherent thoughts, her body consumed by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole. "Inside, fill me up," she gasps, her voice barely above a whisper as she surrenders herself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.
And with a final, desperate thrust, Mingyu drives deep inside her, his release pouring into her like a flood as they both surrender themselves completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washes over them like a tidal wave.
Mingyu gently sets Y/N down on the counter, their bodies still intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He reaches for a nearby towel, his movements slow and deliberate as he begins to clean her up, his touch gentle and tender against her skin.
Y/N sighs contentedly as she leans into his touch, her body still humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure. "That was amazing," she murmurs, her voice soft and breathless as she gazes up at Mingyu with a mixture of awe and adoration.
Mingyu smiles down at her, his eyes softening with affection as he meets her gaze. "You were amazing," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity as he continues to gently wipe away the traces of their passion.
They fall into a comfortable silence as Mingyu finishes cleaning her up, their bodies still pressed close together in the intimate space of the bathroom. The air is thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady mix of sweat and desire that lingers in the air like a tangible reminder of their passion.
Finally, Mingyu sets aside the towel and reaches for Y/N's hand, his touch light and reassuring as he intertwines their fingers together. "I'm glad you're here," he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability as he gazes into her eyes.
Y/N smiles up at him, her heart swelling with affection as she returns his gaze. "I'm glad too," she whispers, her voice filled with emotion as she leans in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
Mingyu's only response is a low, guttural growl of desire as he continues to fuck his fingers into her with a rough and relentless urgency, his movements becoming faster and more frantic with each passing moment.
He can feel her walls tightening around his fingers, her body quivering with the promise of release as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy.
"Come for me, baby," Mingyu murmurs against her ear, his voice rough with desire as he drives her higher and higher with each powerful thrust of his fingers. "Give in to the pleasure, let go and let me take you there."
Y/N's whole body tenses as she feels the sweet release of orgasm wash over her like a tidal wave, her cries of ecstasy echoing off the walls of the shower as
Mingyu continues to drive her to new heights of pleasure with his skilled touch.
"Just fuck me already".Her breath hitches in her throat as she utters those words, her desire burning brightly as Mingyu smirks in response, his own desire evident in the glint of his eyes.
"Your wish is my command, babygirl," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he lines up his throbbing member against her slick entrance.
With a swift thrust of his hips, Mingyu plunges deep inside her, their bodies becoming one in a frenzy of passion and desire.
Y/N moans in ecstasy as she feels him fill her completely, her walls tightening around him in a delicious embrace as he begins to move inside her with a rough and relentless urgency.
Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, their movements synchronized in a primal dance of lust and longing. Mingyu's hands roam over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a fire within her that threatens to consume her whole as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that courses through her veins.
Their moans mingle together in the heated air of the shower, the sound of their passion filling the room as Mingyu's thrusts become harder and more frantic with each passing moment. Y/N's nails dig into his back, her body arching into his touch as she rides the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole.
"Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice a desperate plea as he thrusts deep inside her, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of passion and desire. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through her veins, her senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of being filled completely by him.
Mingyu's movements are rough and urgent, his need driving him to new heights of passion as he seeks to claim Y/N as his own. Their bodies collide with a primal force, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air as they lose themselves in the heat of the moment.
Y/N's nails dig into Mingyu's back, her body arching into his touch as she rides the wave of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole. Every thrust sends her closer to the edge, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of ecstasy.
Their moans mingle together in a symphony of passion and desire, the sound echoing off the walls of the shower as Mingyu's thrusts become faster and more frantic with each passing moment.
Y/N's body trembles with the force of her release, her cries of pleasure filling the room as she surrenders herself completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washes over her like a tidal wave.
"I'm close, Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice thick with desire as she feels the heat building in the pit of her stomach. Mingyu's own moans mingle with hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he nears the brink of ecstasy.
"Me too, baby, me too," he groans, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic with each passing moment. He leans in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispers, "Just tell me where you want it."
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as she struggles to form coherent thoughts, her body consumed by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that threatens to consume her whole. "Inside, fill me up," she gasps, her voice barely above a whisper as she surrenders herself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.
And with a final, desperate thrust, Mingyu drives deep inside her, his release pouring into her like a flood as they both surrender themselves completely to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washes over them like a tidal wave.
Mingyu gently sets Y/N down on the counter, their bodies still intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He reaches for a nearby towel, his movements slow and deliberate as he begins to clean her up, his touch gentle and tender against her skin.
Y/N sighs contentedly as she leans into his touch, her body still humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure. "That was amazing," she murmurs, her voice soft and breathless as she gazes up at Mingyu with a mixture of awe and adoration.
Mingyu smiles down at her, his eyes softening with affection as he meets her gaze. "You were amazing," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity as he continues to gently wipe away the traces of their passion.
They fall into a comfortable silence as Mingyu finishes cleaning her up, their bodies still pressed close together in the intimate space of the bathroom. The air is thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady mix of sweat and desire that lingers in the air like a tangible reminder of their passion.
Finally, Mingyu sets aside the towel and reaches for Y/N's hand, his touch light and reassuring as he intertwines their fingers together. "I'm glad you're here," he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability as he gazes into her eyes.
Y/N smiles up at him, her heart swelling with affection as she returns his gaze. "I'm glad too," she whispers, her voice filled with emotion as she leans in to press a soft kiss against his lips.
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Y/N watches Mingyu with a furrowed brow as he prepares to leave, a sense of unease gnawing at her insides. "Where are you going?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern as she searches his face for answers.
Mingyu turns to face her, his expression softening as he meets her gaze. "I have a meeting at the Club," he explains, his tone reassuring as he tries to alleviate her worries. "But it's just a meeting, babygirl. You don't have to worry."
As he leans in to kiss her, Y/N can't help but feel a pang of apprehension in the pit of her stomach. She knows that Mingyu's world is a dangerous one, filled with risks and uncertainties that she can't begin to comprehend. And while she trusts him with all her heart, she can't shake the feeling of dread that hangs over her like a dark cloud.
And as he leaves the room, Y/N can't help but feel a sense of longing as she watches him go.
Stepping outside, Mingyu beckons one of his trusted bodyguards over and utters firmly, "I'm heading out. Keep an eye on Y/N."
The bodyguard nods in understanding, his gaze unwavering as he replies, "Yes, boss. Consider it done." His voice carries a sense of determination, a testament to his unwavering loyalty to Mingyu.
Mingyu offers a curt nod in response, a flicker of gratitude crossing his features before he turns to leave.
Meanwhile, the bodyguard stands watch, his senses alert and his focus unwavering as he prepares to fulfill his duty.
As two hours pass with Mingyu away, Y/N's boredom begins to gnaw at her. An idea begins to form in her mischievous mind—why not surprise him at the club? With a sly grin, she sets her plan into motion.
Dressing herself in a sleek and seductive black bodycon dress that hugs her curves in all the right places, Y/N feels a surge of confidence wash over her.
Her hair is swept up into a high ponytail, adding a touch of sophistication to her look, while her makeup is flawlessly applied, highlighting her features with a hint of allure.
As Y/N steps out of her room, she comes face to face with the stern figure of the bodyguard, who immediately blocks her path. "Ma'am, I'm afraid you can't go anywhere. Boss's orders," he states firmly, his tone brooking no argument.
A mischievous glint dances in Y/N's eyes as she meets the bodyguard's gaze head-on. "Who said I'm going alone?" she retorts, her voice dripping with confidence. "You're coming with me."
The bodyguard's expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and concern flickering across his features. "But Ma'am..." he begins, his words faltering as he struggles to find a way to dissuade her.
Y/N cuts him off with a decisive wave of her hand. "Your boss won't blame you. Tell him it was my idea," she declares, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Now, are you coming or not?"
The bodyguard hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the door. But ultimately, he knows that he can't disobey her direct orders. With a resigned nod, he falls into step beside her, his mind racing with thoughts of the consequences that await them both.
As the bodyguard drives Y/N towards the club, the streets of the city pass by in a blur of lights and shadows. Y/N sits in the backseat, her mind racing with anticipation for the surprise she has planned for Mingyu.
The bodyguard keeps a watchful eye on the road ahead, his focus unwavering as he navigates through the bustling city streets. Despite his initial reluctance, he knows that he must fulfill his duty and ensure Y/N's safety, even if it means accompanying her on this impromptu adventure.
As they arrive at the club, Y/N steps out of the car, the pulsating energy of the night enveloping her in its embrace. The neon lights flicker and dance against the dark backdrop of the city, casting an ethereal glow over the bustling streets.
The bodyguard holds the door open for her, and as they approach, the bouncers nod in recognition, their expressions unreadable as they allow them entry without a word. Inside, the club is alive with music and laughter, the air thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol.
"Ma'am, can you please stay here? I'll check first if the meeting's over or not," the bodyguard says, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. Y/N nods in understanding, her eyes drifting towards the vibrant scene unfolding before her.
As she makes her way towards the VIP lounge, every eye in the room seems to be drawn to her, whispers of admiration and desire following in her wake.
"Wow, she's gorgeous," one person murmurs, their voice tinged with envy as they watch her pass by.
Others chime in with their own compliments, their words a symphony of praise and admiration. "I wish I looked like her," another whispers, their eyes lingering on Y/N's figure as she ascends the stairs with an effortless grace.
But amidst the sea of faces, Y/N's mind remains fixed on one person alone—Mingyu. She can feel his presence calling out to her, drawing her closer with each step she takes.
As Y/N strides confidently towards the VIP section, the two bodyguards stationed at the door recognize her instantly, their expressions impassive as they step aside to allow her entry. With a silent nod of thanks, Y/N slips past them and into the room beyond.
Inside, a group of men lounges on a sofa, their attention divided between the gyrating strippers on the poles and the drinks in their hands. But Y/N's gaze is fixed solely on Mingyu, who sits at the center of it all, his expression dark and brooding as he watches her approach.
As she draws near, a seductive smirk curves her lips, her movements graceful and deliberate. With each step she takes, Mingyu's eyes follow her, a flicker of anger flashing across his features at her unexpected presence in such a place.
But Y/N pays his reaction no mind as she finally reaches him, her confidence unwavering as she sinks onto his lap, her body fitting snugly against his.
With a boldness that takes him by surprise, she plucks the glass of whisky from his hand and takes a sip, her gaze never leaving his as she challenges him with her eyes.
Mingyu's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his rage, the sight of her so brazenly defying him only serving to stoke the fire burning within him.
Without a word, he grabs her by the wrist once more and leads her out of the room, his grip firm and unyielding.
But even as he drags her away, Y/N can't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.
Mingyu may be angry now, but deep down, she knows that he can't resist her for long. And as they disappear into the darkness together, she smirks, knowing that she's already won this round.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Mingyu's voice cuts through the pulsating music, his tone laced with anger as he closes the distance between them. The bass thumps in the background as he presses Y/N against the wall, his body effectively caging her in.
Y/N meets his gaze with a defiant smirk, unfazed by his proximity. "Just came to have a little fun," she retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Aren't you happy to see me, Mingyu?"
Mingyu's jaw clenches at her flippant response, his anger boiling beneath the surface. "Came here to have fun, huh?" he growls, his words a low rumble in her ear. "Dressing like a damn whore."
Y/N's smirk widens as she leans into his touch, her breath hitching slightly at the sensation of his hand against her skin.
"Remember, you're the one who bought me this dress," she counters, her voice husky with desire as she guides his hand between her thighs, pressing it against her wet panties.
Mingyu's breath catches in his throat at the feel of her arousal, his resolve faltering as he struggles to resist the pull she has on him.
"You're playing with fire, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice strained with desire. "But damn if you don't make it hard to resist."
Their eyes lock in a heated gaze, the tension between them crackling with intensity as they stand on the precipice of something dangerous and intoxicating.
And as Mingyu leans in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, they both know that there's no turning back now.
As they break the kiss, Mingyu's grip tightens around Y/N's waist as he pulls her towards a private room, the anticipation thick in the air. With a swift motion, he locks the door behind them, the click of the latch echoing in the dimly lit space.
Their lips meet once more in a frenzy of desire, Mingyu's hands roaming hungrily over Y/N's body as he presses her against the wall. "Fuck, baby," he murmurs between kisses, his voice husky with need. "You can't stay away from me, can you?"
Y/N's breath hitches at his words, her heart pounding in her chest as she surrenders to the intoxicating heat of their passion.
"Never could," she whispers, her voice barely a breath as Mingyu's lips trail down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Their kisses grow more urgent, more fervent, as Mingyu's hands roam boldly over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a wildfire of desire within her. With a swift motion, he begins to undo the straps of her dress, his movements rough and possessive as he bares her skin to his hungry gaze.
Y/N's head spins with pleasure as Mingyu's lips find hers once more, their kisses deep and insatiable, tongues tangling in a dance of desire.
With a fierce determination in her eyes, Y/N pushes Mingyu back against the couch, her movements confident and purposeful. As she drops to her knees before him, her gaze never wavers from his, the intensity of their connection palpable in the air between them.
Mingyu watches her every move with a mixture of desire and anticipation, his breath hitching in his chest as he surrenders to the pleasure of her touch.
"You know what to do, babygirl," he says, his voice low and commanding yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. "But remember, I'm still in charge here."
Y/N meets his gaze with a smirk, her lips curving into a sensual smile as she begins to undo his pants with deliberate slowness. "Of course, Daddy," she murmurs, her voice husky with desire. "But tonight, let's explore a different kind of power dynamic."
As she frees his big veiny dick from the confines of his pants, Y/N leans in closer, her breath hot against his skin as she teases him with her lips and tongue. Mingyu's fingers tangle in her hair, his grip firm yet gentle as he guides her movements with an unspoken command.
With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Y/N takes Mingyu's length into her mouth, her lips wrapping around him in a tight embrace as she begins to explore every inch of him with her tongue.
"Fuck baby."Mingyu's breath catches in his throat as he feels the heat of her mouth engulfing him, his fingers tangling in her hair as he guides her movements with a firm yet gentle touch.
As Y/N bobs her head up and down, her movements rough and eager, Mingyu can't help but let out a hiss of pleasure, the sensation of her mouth driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
With each thrust of her head, he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his arousal building to an unbearable intensity.
But Y/N isn't content to let him go so easily. With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she begins to increase the pace of her movements, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive him wild with desire.
Mingyu's moans fill the air around them, his grip on her hair tightening as he surrenders to the exquisite pleasure coursing through his veins.
As Y/N takes him deeper and deeper into her mouth, Mingyu can feel the tension building within him, the need for release becoming almost overwhelming.
And just when he thinks he can't take it anymore, she pulls back, leaving him gasping for air and desperate for more.
"Open your mouth." Mingyu's voice is thick with desire as he commands Y/N to open her mouth, and without hesitation, she complies, parting her lips to receive him.
With a primal growl, Mingyu releases his climax, hot streams of his essence spilling over her lips and tongue, painting her mouth in a messy symphony of desire.
Y/N's senses are overwhelmed by the taste and texture of him, the salty sweetness of his release mingling with the heat of their passion. She closes her eyes, savoring the moment, as Mingyu's essence coats her tongue and trickles down her chin, leaving her breathless and hungry for more.
As Mingyu watches her, his chest heaving with exertion, he feels a surge of possessiveness and desire wash over him. Seeing Y/N beneath him, covered in his essence, stirs something primal within him, igniting a fire that burns hotter than ever before.
As Mingyu pulls her onto the couch and strips her naked, Y/N's body hums with anticipation, her skin tingling with the promise of pleasure to come.
She lets out a low moan as Mingyu takes one of her breasts into his mouth, his lips and tongue working magic on her sensitive flesh.
"Oh god, Mingyu," she moans, her voice filled with longing as he squeezes her other breast, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. With each touch, each kiss, she feels herself growing more and more desperate for release, her arousal reaching dizzying heights.
Mingyu's fingers trail down her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as they finally reach her clothed cunt. With a swift motion, he tears away her panties, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him.
Y/N's breath catches in her throat as Mingyu's fingers plunge into her wetness, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her veins.
She arches her back, her moans growing louder with each thrust of his fingers, as Mingyu continues to pump into her with a relentless rhythm.
"Yes, Gyu, just like that," she gasps, her voice filled with ecstasy as he drives her closer and closer to the edge.
As Mingyu's fingers work their magic inside her, Y/N feels a wave of pleasure wash over her, her body trembling with each thrust. She lets out a throaty moan as Mingyu's thumb finds her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send her spiraling towards ecstasy.
"You like that, huh, you filthy little slut?" Mingyu growls, his voice dripping with desire as he drives her closer and closer to the edge. Y/N's breath hitches in her throat as she nods, unable to form words amidst the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins.
Mingyu's fingers move faster, rougher, their relentless rhythm driving her wild with need. "That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Take it all, you dirty little whore."
Y/N's moans fill the air around them, the sound echoing off the walls of the room as Mingyu's fingers continue to work their magic. She feels herself teetering on the edge of release, her body aching for release as Mingyu pushes her closer and closer to the brink.
As Mingyu's fingers plunge into her depths, Y/N feels a surge of pleasure shoot through her body, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. She arches her back, her moans filling the room as Mingyu's other hand finds her nipples, pinching them just the way she likes.
"Mingyu," she moans, her voice thick with desire as he drives her closer and closer to the edge. With each thrust of his fingers, she feels herself getting closer and closer to release, her body trembling with anticipation.
And then, with one final thrust, Mingyu pushes her over the edge, sending her tumbling into the abyss of ecstasy. Y/N cries out his name, her voice echoing off the walls of the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.
As she reaches the peak of her climax, she feels herself squirting uncontrollably, her essence spilling over Mingyu's fingers, her thighs, and his lower body. Mingyu chuckles, his own arousal evident as he watches her lose herself in the throes of passion.
"Yes, baby, that's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he continues to pleasure her, his fingers driving her wild with need.
And as Y/N rides the wave of her release, she knows that this is just the beginning of a night filled with pleasure beyond her wildest dreams.
"Fuck baby, i need to taste you." Mingyu's words send shivers down Y/N's spine as she watches him lower himself between her trembling thighs, anticipation coursing through her veins like wildfire. With a hunger in his eyes, Mingyu leans in, his breath hot against her skin as he inches closer and closer to her center of desire.
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as Mingyu's lips meet her slick folds, his tongue tracing circles around her clit with tantalizing precision. She gasps, her body arching off the couch as waves of pleasure wash over her, each stroke of his tongue sending her closer and closer to the edge.
Mingyu's movements are relentless, his tongue dancing over her swollen bud with a skill that leaves her breathless. She moans, her hands tangling in his hair as she guides him, urging him to take her higher and higher.
As Mingyu delves deeper into her essence, Y/N feels herself teetering on the brink of release, her body trembling with anticipation. With one final flick of his tongue, Mingyu sends her tumbling over the edge, her cries of ecstasy echoing off the walls of the room.
Y/N's voice is filled with desperation as she begs Mingyu for more, her body trembling with need as she clings to him.
"I need you, Mingyu," she pleads, her voice thick with desire. "Please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside me, filling me up with your hard cock."
Mingyu's eyes darken with desire as he hears her words, his own arousal reaching new heights at the thought of taking her again. "You want it rough, baby?" he growls, his voice low and husky with desire. "You want me to fuck you hard, make you scream my name?"
Y/N nods eagerly, her body burning with anticipation as Mingyu positions himself between her trembling thighs. With a primal need driving him, Mingyu plunges into her depths, his movements rough and relentless as he drives her wild with pleasure.
Y/N cries out, her voice filling the room as Mingyu takes her with a ferocity that leaves her breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her veins, her body rocking with the force of his passion.
As Mingyu pounds into her with a hunger that borders on desperation, Y/N clings to him, her nails digging into his skin as she rides the wave of pleasure crashing over her.
"Yes, Daddy, just like that," she moans, her voice filled with ecstasy as he takes her to new heights of pleasure.
Mingyu's movements become even more primal as he thrusts into Y/N with a force that borders on savage, his hips driving forward with relentless intensity. With each powerful thrust, Y/N feels herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, her body trembling with the raw passion of their coupling.
In a moment of unbridled desire, Mingyu leans down and spits into Y/N's mouth, the hot saliva mingling with their shared breath as she swallows it down eagerly, her eyes blazing with desire.
The taste of him fuels her arousal, igniting a fire within her that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Their bodies move together in a frenzied dance of passion, their moans and cries of pleasure filling the room as they lose themselves in the throes of ecstasy. Mingyu's hands roam over Y/N's trembling form, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure wherever it lands.
"God, you feel so good," Mingyu growls, his voice thick with desire as he pounds into her with a hunger that knows no bounds. "You're mine, Y/N. All mine."
Y/N's heart pounds in her chest as Mingyu's words wash over her, his possessiveness only adding fuel to the fire of their passion. She arches her back, offering herself up to him completely as he takes her with a ferocity that leaves her breathless.
As they reach the peak of their pleasure, Mingyu drives into Y/N with one final, powerful thrust, sending them both tumbling over the edge into the abyss of ecstasy.
"This is not over, you can give me more right baby." Mingyu's words send a shiver down Y/N's spine as she feels his desire burning hot against her skin.
"I can give you everything you want, Mingyu," she breathes, her voice thick with desire as she surrenders herself to him completely.
With a primal need driving him, Mingyu flips Y/N over onto her hands and knees, her body quivering with anticipation as he positions himself behind her.
As he spreads her ass to reveal her swollen cunt, Y/N's breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding with excitement at the thought of what's to come.
With slow, deliberate movements, Mingyu opens her anal hole, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body.
She moans, her voice echoing off the walls of the room as Mingyu lines his dick up with her tight, puckered entrance.
As he pushes into her, Y/N cries out, her body tensing with the delicious sting of pleasure mixed with pain. Mingyu's movements are rough and unrelenting as he drives into her with a hunger that leaves her breathless, each thrust sending her closer and closer to the edge.
Through the haze of pleasure, Y/N can hear Mingyu's voice, low and husky with desire as he whispers words of encouragement and dominance in her ear. "You're mine, Y/N," he growls, his voice sending shivers down her spine. "All mine."
Y/N nods eagerly, her body trembling with need as Mingyu takes her to new heights of pleasure. With each thrust, she feels herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their coupling.
"Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice thick with desire as he fills her anal hole and plunges his fingers into her cunt, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her eyes well up with tears as her legs tremble beneath her, her senses overwhelmed by the intense sensations washing over her.
As Mingyu continues to thrust into her with a relentless hunger, Y/N can't help but cry out in ecstasy, her moans filling the room as she surrenders herself to him completely.
His fingers work her cunt with expert precision, driving her closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment.
With a primal growl, Mingyu withdraws his fingers from Y/N's cunt and delivers a sharp slap to her ass, the sting sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through her body.
"You like that, don't you, baby?" he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he delivers another punishing blow.
Y/N can only whimper in response, her body trembling with desire as Mingyu's rough touch sends her pleasure skyrocketing to new heights.
She watches him through the mirror, her makeup smudged and her eyes glazed with desire as he spits on her hole, the hot saliva sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine.
With each thrust, Mingyu drives deeper and deeper into her, his movements growing more frenzied with each passing moment.
As Mingyu and Y/N reach the pinnacle of their pleasure, their bodies trembling with anticipation, they lock eyes in the mirror, their gazes filled with desire and longing. With one final, powerful thrust, Mingyu drives deep into Y/N's trembling body, his own release imminent.
"Fuck, Mingyu," Y/N moans, her voice thick with desire as she feels the waves of ecstasy crashing over her. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming!"
Her words are barely a whisper as Mingyu's relentless thrusts push her over the edge, her body convulsing with pleasure as she rides the wave of her climax.
Mingyu's own release follows soon after, his body tensing with pleasure as he spills himself deep inside her, their essences mingling in a messy, tangled embrace.
As they come down from their shared climax, Mingyu holds Y/N close, their bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of their passion.
Their breath comes in ragged gasps as they cling to each other desperately, their hearts pounding in unison as they savor the blissful aftermath of their shared ecstasy.
In that moment, there are no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal connection between them as they bask in the warm glow of their love.
As the last echoes of their shared climax fade into the air, Mingyu and Y/N lay entwined in each other's arms, their bodies still humming with the lingering traces of their passion. Mingyu presses a tender kiss to Y/N's forehead, his heart overflowing with love for the woman who has captured his heart.
"Y/N," Mingyu whispers, his voice filled with emotion as he gazes into her eyes, "I never knew what true happiness was until I met you. You've brought light into my life, chased away the darkness, and shown me what it means to love unconditionally."
Y/N's heart swells with love as she listens to Mingyu's words, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. She reaches up to cup his face in her hands, her touch gentle and reassuring as she brushes away the stray tears that glisten in his eyes.
"Mingyu," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion, "you've brought so much love and warmth into my life. You've shown me what it means to be cherished, to be truly seen and understood. I love you more than words can express, and I can't imagine my life without you by my side."
Mingyu's heart skips a beat at Y/N's words, his love for her swelling within him until it threatens to burst free. He takes her hands in his, his touch tender and reverent as he gazes into her eyes with all the love in his heart.
"Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion, "will you do me the honor of being my partner in life? Will you stand by my side through all the joys and challenges that the future may bring? Will you be my wife?"
Tears of joy stream down Y/N's cheeks as she nods, her heart overflowing with love for the man who has captured her heart.
"Yes, Mingyu," she whispers, her voice filled with love and devotion, "I will marry you. I will stand by your side through thick and thin, through all the ups and downs of life. I love you with all my heart, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
With tears of joy streaming down their faces, Mingyu and Y/N share a tender embrace, their hearts entwined as they embark on the next chapter of their journey together.
And as they hold each other close, they know that their love will only grow stronger with each passing day, a beacon of hope and happiness in a world filled with uncertainty.
.⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆..⋆。⋆˚。⋆。˚。⋆. .⋆。⋆˚。⋆。
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starryeyedstories · 1 year
Text
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader
Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is the perfect roommate. He tidies up after himself, he picks up your favourite snacks when he does the grocery shopping, and he’s just a little bit gorgeous…falling for him was inevitable.
Themes: The love’s requited (but they’re just idiots), friends to lovers, domestic fluff, pining.
Updated: 3/10/23
You’re always welcome to request blurbs set in this universe, share your headcanons, and ask questions! For example, if I reblog a prompt list you can specifically request that the blurb be set in this universe, or you can make up your own requests and scenarios set in this universe!
The series is non-chronological and blurbs are listed here in the order they were posted in. You can request blurbs set at any point in the story you like!
Search #and they were roommates vibes on my blog for inspiration!
BLURBS
Leave a light on
First argument
Bradley’s italic oh moment
When Roomie Met Hangman cont-d
Fake dating
Bradley has a date
The mystery of the missing moustache
Fake dating 2: electric boogaloo
Bradley’s italic fuck moment
Bradley grows a beard
Mario Kart and a Moment ™️
Mr Jenkins
Bradley the shower gel thief
Not like this
Exactly like this
Putting a label on things
Meeting the Dagger squad
Sunday mornings
First argument as a couple
Deployment
Reunion
Coming clean
HEADCANONS
Goose the golden retriever
Morning routine
Deployment
Bradley stops bringing home dates
Support
Bradley singing to you
You and Jake’s friendship
Your birthday
Cuddles and kisses
Pet peeves
Post deployment
The wedding
First date
Comfort
How often you say “I love you”
Secrets
Terms of endearment
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
Note
Oh thank you for the compliment :) i'm sure you could do it justice but maybe we could get some generic hangman fluff maybe with them at the beach and he looks out for her by putting sunblock on her and making sure she's eats lunch and stays hydrated and he's teasing her and being very playful with her? Thanks

Okie doke, you get your Hangman on the beach, nonny. I hope you enjoy! Hangman fluff awaits. Dagger Squad future fic.
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You liked this new tradition you were able to share with Jake. Each year, around the same time depending on deployments, family commitments, you know the normal life stuff, Dagger Squad came from far and wide to try and get back to the beach for their annual defensive football game and bonfire. Mid-afternoon, the egos start running their mouths about which team will win, and what the stakes are (and the winners and partners always enjoyed the 200 push-ups for the losers and Fanboy's sigh at wishing he never mentioned it).
"Right here, baby?" Jake asked quietly, saying a quiet hello to Bob's partner and burgeoning baby belly and Penny. His warm palm skimming the skin between your ripped jeans shorts and his old Foreigner tee you'd knotted in the back to make work. He nuzzled your neck as he dropped the cooler and whipped off his shirt. He hadn't buttoned it so what difference did it mean as he slid out of his flip flops and put all his gear into a pile and into the beach bag.
Some regiments he just couldn't shake, and neatness was one of them. So was the gym. You would love him endlessly anyway, but he was proud of his body and worked hard on maintaining it as he got older. You were proud he was proud he took such good care of himself and you reaped the benefits.
Ha gave you some space as he unfolded the blanket and flicked it out onto the warm sand as Harvard and Yale approached him and within seconds, they were talking about recent deployments, new kit, and manoeuvres. You were as supportive as you could be with things you'd rather be kept in the dark over. Jake respected that. He knew what he did terrifed you but the boys just understood it better than you ever could. You were absolutely not offended.
You tossed some bits and pieces on the blanket, camera, snacks, and sunscreen. "Ooh," Jake smirked, popping to pick up the sunscreen. "May I?" he asked eagerly.
"May I?" you repeated, biting back your grin. "Aren't you proper today?"
"I would hate for you to be burnt. It's a skin trauma, baby," he protested as you took your sunnies off and glared at him. "And I wanna feel you up. Sue me," he shrugged, his true personality shining through.
"Well, aren't you sweet?" you roughly patted his cheek and the masochist in him loved the lack of caress in your touch. He adjusted his jaw appreciatively. "Okay, Jake. Just to avoid the trauma."
"Your skin is your biggest organ," he reminded you, watching you lift the shirt over your shoulders, licking his lips at the additional skin you'd been keeping under wraps. "Not mine..." he muttered cheekily.
"Jake, knock it off," you laughed as he grinned wide, turning you away from him. You wouldn't complain about the extra touch and affection that lasted a good five minutes, you we melting under his light touch. He kissed the nape of your neck in finality. "I'm good?" you asked quietly.
"You're very, very good," he growled playfully swatting your butt.
You gave him space and sat on the beach blanket, sunnies back on, and Jake plopped your hat on your head. "Thank you."
"Here ya go, sweetheart," Jake handed you your water bottle. "Gettin' hot out here," he grinned. He thrived in hot weather. You smiled against his lips as he laid a gentle kiss on you. "You wanna play?" he could hear the catcalling and jeering for Jake to toss the ball around.
"Would rather put knitting needles in my eyes. Only here to watch the bodies," you joked... kind of.
"You just mean mine, right?" he asked, a mix of unsurity and arrogance as you laughed.
"Yes, Jake. Only yours. Go have fun," you reassured him, taking a seat and a cool slug from your water bottle as he stood over you and squatted to give you another sweet kiss.
"I'm glad you're here, sweetheart. I'm happy as this group gets bigger that you're here with me and you get to meet the people I trust more than my own family."
You cupped his jaw. "They are your family. They are our family, baby. You big softie."
Warm in the sun, but you noticed his ears flush and duck his eyes. "Don't tell anyone or my reputation will be shattered," he teased as you both laughed loudly, and his heart swelled to bring that smile to your beautiful face. "Gimme some lovin' before I go and kick these preppy asses," he smiled against your lips and kissed you deeply. "Another," he demanded. "You're so sweet, I can't handle it," his nose nuzzled against yours.
You knew his friends were mocking him behind his back but you were very confident he didn't change his behaviour around his friends and was comfortable enough to lay some love on you and you were very aware of Penny's stare... and jaw-dropping.
"Jake, Jesus!" you hear Coyote holler.
"Your bestie is pissed," you told Jake as he looked back over his shoulder and gave the team a selective one-finger salute. "Go, before they think it's me keeping you here. And not your that's horribly whipped."
"I'm whipped," he admitted and stretched, this incredible body flexing in all the right places, the golden sun making the beads of sweat his flawless skin glisten. Jesus, he was just so sexy. "I freely admit it."
"Go," you scooted him as his persona changed and Hangman arrived.
"All right, all right, all right, who is ready for some football?" he boomed, drifting over to his friends. It got rough and competitive, sweaty and slippery pretty quickly and you got closer a while later to take some polaroids as the sun set for shits and giggles later tonight to hand out. You had a pleasant afternoon as more friends and family joined you and kept you busy.
As the game was called and losers paid their penance in the form of push-ups, you watched Jake and Rooster put together the bonfire, the part you were most excited for. Yes, Jake Seresin was hotter, if possible, in most light, but the way the flames flickered over his face as you chatted with Natasha and he kept his arm around your shoulder, under the pretence of keeping you warmed before the roaring fire.
"You hungry, babydoll?" he murmured in your ear, the barbecue well and truly cranked and the smells driving your tummy into overdrive. "Beer?"
"Yes to both, please?" you asked and he nodded, kissing you tenderly before leaving you with Natasha. She shook her head in disbelief.
"Who is that guy and what did he do with Bagman?" she asked, astonished. You grinned. "That is a man in love."
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carlottawllms · 6 months
Text
The Night I Nearly Lost You
Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Word Count: 6.7K TW: mentions of accident and injuries (nothing descriptive or too bad)
I really hope you’ll like this one! Enjoy <3 As always, feedback is very much appreciated.
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With the way you’d already gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, you should’ve known that staying in the warm heaven would’ve probably been the best solution for everyone.
Not only had you woken up in a cold sweat after a terrifying nightmare, but then the water in the much-needed shower just wouldn’t get warm and as if that hadn’t been enough bad news already, on top of all that your coffee machine had failed.
You should’ve just called it a day, but with the responsibilities adult life brought, it just wasn’t that simple.
Technically, it was your day off today, but as a paediatric nurse in the PICU in a London hospital that was understaffed and impaired by several sick colleagues, you never really had a day off – unless you weren’t home.
But since you’d nothing planned for today anyway, you’d agreed to being on standby in case someone was needed. Especially as the sick children shouldn’t suffer just because the health care sector was barely supported by the country’s politics.
And apart from that, you really loved your job. Sure, it was a challenging one – mentally and physically – and it could leave you crying in the on-call-room every once in a while, because the moments when there was nothing that could be done for a sick child anymore were far too devastating.
But then there were also the wonderful moments when children, cured of their illnesses, were able to leave the hospital. And seeing the children running down the hall, healthy and with grins on their faces and their relieved families, knowing you’d played a small part in that too, made it all worthwhile.
Just as you’d sat down on the sofa, your coffee ready for a relaxed afternoon on the sofa, your phone rang: Jessy. The deputy head of care service.
“Hi Jessy.”
“y/n, I’m very sorry to call this early, but Mary just called in sick and without her Helen would be on her own.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m on my way, I should be there in 15.”
You knew the drill, having done it countless of times already so at this point putting your shoes and jacket on, grabbing your bag and some snack within less than 3 minutes was second nature to you.
Traffic in London was always bad and especially in the late afternoons so with going some rather unconventional routes you hoped to beat the worst parts of the traffic so it wouldn’t take you too long to arrive.
And apparently for the first time today luck seemed to be on your side, as all the traffic lights turned green just in time for you to avoid having to stop altogether, but it left you the moment you crossed the last set of lights as the last thing you heard was a very loud horn and then everything went dark.
*
“Nah seriously mate, he’s jokes.”, Mason laughed, as he patted Luke on the back.
After a fairly draining training session, that had left his legs aching and burning, all Mason had wanted was to go home and flop down on his sofa with as little movement as possible, but instead he was now sat between Luke and Licha in one of the restaurants not far from Carrington.
The guys had talked about grabbing some early dinner together after the session and when they’d asked him to join, he’d not been able to refuse. They’d happily accepted him as part of the family, so who was he to say no to an invitation.
“Honestly though, I know him from the England squad like, Rashy can confirm that an-“, Mason interrupted himself when a name he’d not expected to see ever again flash up on his phone. “Hang on for a sec, I need to take this.”
He grabbed his phone as he left the table quickly, his heart beating out of his chest. After everything that had happened and not being on speaking terms for about 8 months, he hadn’t expected to ever hear from you again and seeing your name now brough feelings to the surface he’d buried six feet under.
After taking a deep, but shaky breath, he answered the phone. “y/n?”
“This is Elizabeth Brown from St. Thomas Hospital London, am I speaking to Mr. Mason Mount?”
“Yes, that’s me.”, he answered, his body suddenly feeling all cold. The hospital?
He knew he should be more careful with things like that. After years of being in the football business he knew that fans went down questionable paths to get information, but the moment the woman mentioned the hospital – the one you didn’t work at – his mind went blank.
“Erm…you said hospital? Is…is she okay?” Mason tried to stay calm although his heart was beating out of his chest. It was never a good sign when the hospital called and judging by the sick feeling in his gut, this wouldn’t be a good call either.
“Mr. Mount, I’m sorry, but Ms. y/l/n was involved in an accident and brought in a couple of minutes ago, she was rushed into surgery for treatment on several injuries, that’s all I can tell you right now. She had you saved as her emergency contact, is there any way you could come?”
There was a bit of a pause as he was too shocked to say anything. He tried to take steady and even breaths, but they just came out faltering, only adding to the lightheaded feeling.
“I erm…” Mason grabbed a hold of the railing close by. His legs were shaking, and he felt like he was going to faint any second. The accident…the surgery…you injured… “I’m actually not…we erm…we broke up 8 months ago and erm…I’m not in London…I-“
“You’re her only emergency contact.”, the woman explained kindly. “You can call family and ask them to come, but we’re not allowed to just call someone else.”
Running his hand over his face, he took a deep breath, trying not to panic as he thought about the options he had.
Unfortunately, there weren’t very many. You didn't have a very good relationship with your family – something that had always been hard for you - so he couldn't notify any of them. Your friends in London were not well disposed towards him since the break-up so apart from driving himself, he only had the option of asking Ben.
But you’d still saved him as your emergency contact so maybe he should actually go? Was it just because you’d forgotten to change it? Or had you meant for it to stay the same? But that wouldn’t make any sense, would it?
“Mr. Mount?”
“Yeah, sorry.”, he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. “I erm…I’ll see what I can do. I’ll either come down myself, which would take a couple of hours, or I’ll send Benjamin Chilwell. Can you erm…can you put that down somewhere, so he’s allowed to come in?”
“Yes, of course, no problem at all.”
“Thank you, Mrs. erm?”
“Brown.”
“Right, sorry. Thank you, Mrs. Brown.”  
“That’s okay.”, she told him. “Our doctors will do everything to make sure she’s alright. The surgery will require some time and then Ms. y/l/n will still be out due to the anaesthesia. So please don’t rush.”  
After the call ended, Mason took a moment. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closed and willing to hold back the tears. His heart was beating out of his chest and with the sick feeling rising in his stomach he was afraid he was gonna vomit any second.
He knew there was only one right thing to do, but for some reason he didn’t think he should actually go. Your relationship hadn’t necessarily ended on good terms and as he’d been the one who’d fucked it up, surely you wouldn’t want to see him out of all people. Maybe he really should call Ben and ask him to go?
“I thought you go- Hey, Mase, is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
“I erm…the hospital called me, y/n was in an accident and…I don’t know if she’ll make it.”
Mason couldn’t explain it, but it was the moment he said it out loud that he truly realised it, that it became real. You’d been in an accident, the person he still cared so deeply about had been in an accident and rushed into surgery, and there was nothing he could do.
“y/n as in your ex?”, Luke asked, and Mason nodded as tears sprung into his eyes.
“Luke, what if the last thing I ever told her was that I couldn’t see a future with her? What if I never get to tell her just how sorry I am for everything I said and that I never meant it? That I was just scared and-“
“Hey, stop. Mase, you need to breathe.” Luke grabbed him by the shoulders as Mason was slowly starting to panic. “This is y/n we’re talking about. She’s a fighter, okay? She’ll make it and then you get to tell her you’re sorry and all that, okay? But right now I need you not to panic.”
Mason took a couple of deep breaths to get himself back under control and once his erratic breathing had calmed down a little, Luke let go of him. He was right, you’d always been a fighter and there was no way you’d stop being one now.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I…they asked me to come down to London. Apparently, y/n has still saved me as her emergency contact, but erm…I don’t think I should go, you know?” Mason ran his hand through his hair again. “Things ended so badly, like I fucked up so much and I don’t think I should go…I just don’t think she would want to see me out of all people…it’s just that…she’s alone and…I should ask Ben to go and see her. I think they still talk and-“
“No, Mase.”, Luke shook his head. “I understand that there’s a lot going on for you right now and yes, maybe she just forgot to change it, but we don’t know that. Maybe this is your chance to make it all right, you know? I get you’re scared, but you should go and see her. Be there for her when she wakes up.”
“What if it just makes things worse? Luke, I hurt her so much and pushed her away when I should’ve just…I don’t know.”
“Okay.”, Luke sighed. “I do understand what you mean and why you’re scared, but Mase the moment she wakes up in hospital with wires attached to her body, she’ll be shocked and scared with hundreds of things on her mind, but your break-up won’t be one of those things. She’ll just be relieved to have someone by her side. You really should go.”  
A few minutes, in which Mason thought about his friend's words, passed. Luke was probably right, and he worried unnecessarily, but what if you really didn't want to see him? What if you just sent him away the moment you saw him?
“C’mon Mase, you and I we both know what the right thing is. Don’t be a coward and send Ben. I don’t know what really happened between you and her, but if she actually meant to keep you as her emergency contact, waking up with the realisation that you rejected her and instead sent Ben would break her heart all over again.”
Mason sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll erm…I’ll grab myself a coffee and head down to London.”
“Call the gaffer on the way, tell him about the family emergency and he’ll understand. Just be there for her okay?”
-
Without any preparation Mason jumped into the car, leaving Luke to explain why he’d just left so suddenly and made his way down to London.
After calling the gaffer and him unsurprisingly being very understanding of the whole situation, Mason’s thoughts kept travelling around one thing.
You.
You’d been the best thing that had ever happened to him and until today, he couldn’t believe he’d so royally fucked it up and lost you.
First, he’d sworn to himself he’d make it right and fight for you, but then he’d waited too long and too much time had passed. He’d convinced himself you didn’t want him to fight anymore. And he’d tried to convince himself that he didn’t love you anymore, that he’d just move on and find someone else.
But now that he was faced with the terrifying truth that he might not even get to see you ever again, he regretted everything even more. He knew he should’ve at least told you how sorry he was, and that the problem had never been you. What if you’d just left this world without knowing just how loved you’d truly been? What if all he was left with from now on was knowing you as a memory?
The four hours to London passed more quickly than he’d expected, and he found himself in front of the hospital. Just like Luke had asked, Mason shot him a quick message, letting him know he’d arrived safely and with one last deep breath he made his way into the building.
He tried to cross the hall quickly in an attempt to draw as little attention as possible, but when more people turned and stared, he realised he probably should’ve worn a cap and swapped his training gear for a dark hoodie and sweatpants.
“Hi, I’m looking fo-“
“Holy shit, you’re Mason Mount.” The way the receptionist gasped and stared at him with wide eyes made Mason feel incredibly uncomfortable. He buried his hands in his pockets and dropped his head as more people now turned to look at what was happening.
“Listen, I’m looking for someone. I was called for y/n y/l/n. Where can I find her?”
“I can’t believe it’s Mason Mount right in front of me. I’ll have a look in a minute, can we just quickly take a photo?”
The audacity this woman had was beyond him and it took him a lot to stay calm and level-headed when all he wanted was to scream at her to let him know where he could find you. He was in the right mind to push her off the chair and search through the system himself.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really don’t have any intention of taking photos with anyone here right now. And if you don’t want me knocking on every single door in this hospital, I kindly ask you again to let me know where I can find Ms. y/l/n.”
The woman looked a little shocked, probably not expecting him to put his foot down like that and depending on how butthurt she was, he could imagine her posting shit about him on social media in a bit, but in this moment, he simply didn’t give a shit about his own reputation. All he wanted was to go and see you.
“Oh erm…yes of course. It’s erm…” She clicked a couple of times, seemingly stressed as she looked for your information, before she nodded. “There it is. Floor 5, room 129.”
“Thank you.”, Mason smiled tightly before rushing off towards the elevators. There were three of them and the scoreboard of all of them showed 8. “Fuck.”, he muttered as he quickly decided to take the stairs.
Whilst running up the 5 stories, he prayed you weren’t out of anaesthesia yet as he desperately didn’t want you to wake up alone with no one by your side.
It hadn't been that long since he’d had his own surgery and he knew how relieving it was to have someone sitting by the bedside. He couldn't imagine how much worse it had to be for you, since yours hadn’t been a scheduled one and you were just thrown into this situation. 
Barely out of breath – a perk of being a professional athlete – he took the very last step and opened the huge door. Against his expectations he wasn’t met with the ward, but a regular room, equipped with a desk and sealed stacks of hospital gowns and masks.
A young nurse stood up the moment he entered. It was clear from her reaction that she’d recognised him too, but unlike the receptionist, she pulled herself together after a millisecond.
“Mr. Mount.”, the woman smiled. “Visiting hours are over, is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes, I was called for y/n y/l/n. She had an accident and I’m the emergency contact.”
“Oh yes, okay. My colleague left me a notification saying that someone would come to see Ms. y/l/n.”
“How is she?” Mason noticed how his voice was a little shaky, the stifling atmosphere only a hospital could create and the burning fear you couldn’t make it through eventually taking a toll on him.
“She came out of surgery about 10 minutes ago and she’s stable. She’s made it through the hard part, Mr. Mount.”, the nurse explained kindly. “When you put these on, you can go and see her. It’s always better for patients to have someone by their side when they wake up.”
As quickly as possible, Mason pulled the blue visitors gown over his clothes before the nurse helped him with the mask.
“It’s room 129. She should be asleep for a while longer, but once she wakes up press the call button, please? I’ll have to check a couple of things.”
“Yeah, sure. Thank you.”
„Oh and you can take the mask off once you’re in the room. It’s just important to wear it on the corridor as there’s critical patients on this floor.“
With a key and a smile, she opened the door that sported ICU in big white letters on the frosted glass. It was 9.30pm and accordingly the corridor was quiet and empty, as Mason made his way to the room the nurse had pointed out.
His legs felt like jello and the way his heart was thundering in his chest, made him wonder if it could burst a ribcage. He couldn’t remember ever having felt this sick, but when he opened the door and saw you, his heart dropped to his stomach.
“y/n.”, he whispered as he felt his heart breaking in his chest.
There you were, asleep in bed with wires and tubes attached to your body. You looked fragile, your face pale. There was a huge gash across your eyebrow, several scratches on the parts of your arms he could see and as his eyes travelled lower, he spotted the cast around your hand and wrist.
The even beeping of the machines, monitoring your heartrate were as reassuring as upsetting, reminding him that it could be over in any moment. As the door fell closed with a gentle thud and he was finally alone with you, tears welled up in his eyes, quickly falling down his cheeks whilst he walked closer to your bed.  
“You need to be okay. Please, y/n.”
Never before had he felt this helpless and lost, this broken and all he wanted was to make you feel better, but looking at you, he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to be the strong person when it had always been you who’d guided him through every storm.
Hesitantly, Mason reached out and grabbed your good hand in his as he sat down as close to your bed as possible, his eyes trained on the way your chest rose and fell evenly and the movements alone calmed him down a little. You’d be okay. You had to be.
He sat there for what felt like forever, holding your hand and stroking your skin whilst watching over every breath you took and the longer he stared at you the more he realised just how much he’ missed you and how much of an idiot he’d been.
He’d tried to keep it buried six feet under, but now that you’d nearly slipped through his fingers forever, it was like a slap across his face. He still loved you with everything he had.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” Mason lowered his head until he could place a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “Please wake up, y/n. I need one chance to tell you that I miss you and that I love you and that I wish I was yours again.”
For the next hour and half, Mason never left your side. The nurse came in once and reassured him, that you still sleeping was totally normal. She updated him on your injuries and told him that he could stay for as long as he wanted to, but he was sure that even if she’d called the security to remove him, he would’ve fought them and stayed.
Mason couldn’t remember when he’d placed his head on the mattress next to your leg and closed his eyes, but he must’ve fallen asleep a little and it was only when the beeping of the machines changed that he shot up from his position. His neck felt a little stiff, but he didn’t really pay any attention to it as your heart rate had suddenly picked up.
Unsure, if it was a good or a bad sign and if she should press the call button for the nurse, he observed you a little while longer. The cute little crease he used to kiss away appeared between your brows and in a flash, memories of better times rushed past him. Memories in which you woke up from a nap in his arms, tired eyes and a small smile on your face.
The light in the room seemed to be too bright for your liking as it took you a couple of attempts to open your eyes properly, but when you eventually did, he could easily spot the confusion on your features.
Frantically, your gaze flickered around the room, your bed, the cast on your arm and eventually to Mason’s hand still firmly clasped around yours. He could feel his insecurity skyrocketing and blushed deeply. He’d overstepped, hadn’t he?
But as he attempted to pull his hand away, you just tightened your hold on his.
Panic and fear, that’s what Mason saw in your usually so warm and gentle eyes when you raised your head and looked at him. It broke his heart to see you like this and whilst he really wanted to help, he didn’t know how.
“It’s okay.”, he whispered. “I’m right here.”
You had no idea what had happened, why you were in what looked like a hospital and why Mason of all people was sitting by your bed holding your hand but you knew one thing for sure: You didn’t want him to let go.  
Because despite your past, right now he was all you knew and the only familiar thing that gave you some sort of comfort and reassurance in the midst of panic.
The constant beeping around you, the unfamiliar surroundings and most of all the fact you couldn’t remember what had happened scared you. You felt restrained, your head pounded, and everything hurt and when the door suddenly opened flinched.
“Hey, it’s okay, yeah?” Mason squeezed your hand gently. “You’re okay.”
“My name is Ally.”, the young nurse smiled. “I know you must be very confused right now, but I need to ask you a couple of questions, okay?”
You looked at Mason, unsure if you wanted to speak to her, but when he just nodded and smiled you focused back on the nurse. “Okay.”
Your voice was raspy as you attempted to speak, your sore throat making it somewhat impossible, but before you could even ask for some water, Mason held the cup with the straw out for you to take a sip.
The nurse waited for you to finish before starting with a series of questions about yourself and how you’d ended up here and you tried your best to answer them, but as much as you tried to remember, the memory of what had happened didn’t come back.
“An accident is a traumatic experience, so it is quite normal that your brain tries to protect you and hold back the disturbing memories. Please do not worry about this. The surgery went well and if your condition remains the same, we can move you to the normal ward as early as tomorrow.”
She carefully removed some of the wires from your body, leaving you with just the clip on your finger that observed your heart rate.
“I’ll be outside whenever you need me.”, she smiled. “You can use the free bed, Mr. Mount. Sleeping in a chair isn’t the most comfortable.”
And with that you and Mason were back to yourselves. It was quiet for a moment as neither of you really knew what to do or say and as much as you’d love to ask why he was here, you didn’t think you were strong enough to have any kind of conversation right now. You were exhausted, still shocked from what the nurse had told you and above all, you were confused.
A couple of months ago, Mason had broken your heart and left you on your own to pick up the pieces. You should hate him and tell him to go, but you couldn’t. This feeling of comfort and safety only he could provide enveloped you as you focused back on him.
But you were aware he had responsibilities and probably needed to leave soon.
“You don’t have to stay.”, you mumbled, eyes dropping to where your hand was still tightly held by his. “I know you have training and-“
“Do you want me to go, y/n?”, Mason asked quietly, desperately hoping you’d say no. He didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he had no right to just stay. Not after having broken your heart and left you behind like something unimportant.
“I erm…” A shy smile flickered over your face, and you squeezed Mason’s hand. “I’d actually like you to stay.”
“Okay then. I’ll stay.”, he whispered, voice full of emotions. He felt as if he was 10 pounds lighter and the relief rushing through his veins gave him a little high as he got up from the chair and let you know he’d grab the bag of clothes he always kept in his car for emergencies.
“I’ll grab some things from my car, but I promise I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”
With a fond smile on your face you nodded and you expected him to leave, but to your and probably his surprise, he leaned down and kissed you softly on your forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay, y/n.”
Mason practically ran to his car and then back up as he didn’t want to leave you alone for too long and once, he was back and had changed into a t-shirt and shorts, he moved the bed the nurse had pointed out for him to use, as close to yours as possible.
You were still pretty exhausted and the lingering pain obvious on your features, but you seemed to fight the sleep trying to catch up with you. Your eyes constantly looked for Mason and it wasn’t long until he figured out why.
“Hey, I’ll still be here in the morning, okay? I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”, he told you softly before shuffling closer to you and turning onto his side so he could face you properly. “Go to sleep y/n. I’ll stay awake, yeah?”
Instead of answering, you straightened your arm until your hand was on his bed, palm up and only when Mason wrapped his hand around your smaller one did you close your eyes.
Mason’s heart squeezed in his chest. The moment a perfect reminder of that one hot summer night, he’d convinced you to sleep outside in his garden on nothing but thin mattresses. You’d both been lying on your backs, staring at the beautiful night sky. Whilst counting the stars, you’d absentmindedly reached your hand out and grabbed his and the moment had burned itself into his brain.
Whilst he watched you fall asleep peacefully, the tip of his finger just about caressed your warm skin. It was something he loved doing. Your skin was always so soft and warm and welcoming and whilst he knew you loved his touch, it was also an action that never failed to calm himself down.
Once he knew you were fast asleep, he settled down himself, body angled towards you and hand still wrapped around yours, but although he knew you were okay, sleep wouldn’t take over as he constantly needed to check you were still breathing fine.
But at some point he must’ve fallen into a light slumber, as he was awoken by your quiet whimpering. Mason shot up into a sitting position and wiped over his face in an attempt to wake up properly.
You were still asleep, but there were tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your body shook had Mason terrified you’d hurt yourself even more.
“Hey, y/n. Wake up, love.” He shuffled over and into your bed. Mindful of your injured body, he carefully pulled you against his chest as best as he could, arms wrapping tightly around your shaking frame. “C’mon, y/n. Wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”
He tapped your cheek lightly in an attempt to wake you up and get you out of that horrendous dream that was torturing your poor soul and the moment you gasped and opened your eyes, he let go of a deep breath.
“Mase!”, you choked, the images of your dream still burned into your mind, but the way he held you close to him helped you calm down slowly but surely and when you felt him pressing his lips to the top of your head as he gently rocked your body from side to side whilst whispering reassuring words, you relaxed into his chest.  
For a while you just stayed there, calming your rapid breathing with the help of his even heartbeat right under your ear and in that moment, you realised how easy it was to just ignore your past and just feel safe in his hold.
“Why did you come here?”
Your question hit him out of the blue and Mason was confused for a second what you were referring to, but then he realised.
“You’ve still saved me as your emergency contact.”, he explained quietly. “The hospital called me and told me about your condition and asked me to come see you. I wanted to send Ben first cause I didn’t think you’d want to see me, but then I just…I don’t know, I just couldn’t live with the thought of rejecting you and not coming to help you, you know?”
You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed by the fact that despite not speaking for about 8 months, he’d made his way down to London to be there for you.
Maybe the two of you still had a chance? When he was willing to drop just everything and drive 4 hours for you, then why should you stay stuck in the past yourself?
“Can you please stay?”, you whispered, face pressing a little more into his chest as you felt your cheeks heating up.
“Of course.”
“No, I mean with me here…like…in my bed and…hold me?”
“I’ll hold you for as long as you want me to.”
“Forever then.”, was what you thought, but you knew you couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet at least. Instead, you sighed deeply. “Thank you, Mase. Also, for coming here.”
“Anything for you, love.”
It was the second time the pet name slipped out, but this time you could hear it and whilst Mason’s heart dropped to his stomach in fear of having overstepped, yours warmed in your chest.
The way his hand was running through your hair and up and down your spine relaxed you like nothing else ever could and it wasn’t long until you were back asleep in his arms.
“I’ll fight for you, y/n.”, he whispered as he watched you sleeping peacefully on his chest, something he didn’t think he’d ever get to see again. “I promise I’ll never leave you again unless you send me away.”
Mason dropped a gentle kiss to the top of his head before he closed his eyes and let himself drift off as well.
-
When the gentle rays of the morning sun had woken up both of you, you’d stayed cuddled up with each other for a while, simply enjoying a moment neither of you were sure would happen again.
He’d meant to speak to you about everything straight away, but the doctor and nurse came to do their rounds shortly after he’d gotten up and brushed his teeth, so he had to postpone the inevitable for a little while longer.
They explained what they’d done in surgery, that everything had gone well, and you would be transferred to the normal ward before lunch. You asked a couple of questions about recovery times and what kind of support you’d need and to Mason’s relief you seemed to be a lot better than what he’d expected.
And then, the both of you were back on your own.
The atmosphere was a little tense, the events of the night before hanging above you both and whilst you felt a little lighter about the whole situation, you still needed some sort of explanation for closure.
“I think we should talk.”, you mumbled, heart beating out of your chest. The night before had felt as if everything was okay and whilst you’d loved being back in his arms there was still this deep settled worry gnawing on your insides.
You patted the edge of your bed, signalling him that despite the serious conversation ahead, you wanted him to be somewhat close.   
“Why did you do it?”, you asked once Mason had sat down.
“I was scared.”, he admitted quietly, not needing you to be more specific with your question. “I fell so bloody hard for you that the thought of you ever leaving me…it just…it just messed with me. I already knew I’d most likely move to Manchester, and you’d just started that new job and…god I’m so fucking sorry I was such a coward.”
Ashamed, Mason dropped his head, fingers playing with the white bedsheets. He felt like shit and like the biggest idiot in the world. Instead of talking to you, he’d made up his mind that you’d break up with him anyway and to save himself from the pain, he’d done it first and ruined both of your lives in the process.
“There’s no excuse for what I did, but I need you to know that I am incredibly sorry. Ever since I left your flat that night, I haven’t stopped regretting the things I said and how I made you feel, how much I hurt you.”
Mason ran his shaking hand through his hair, heart beating out of his chest as he tried to keep himself together.
“I should’ve talked to you, I know, but I’d somehow made up my mind already, convinced you’d end things and let me go on my own because…we’re both not made for a long-distance relationship and…I just…the way I felt for you was so special and so rare and I just got so scared.”
“Felt?” Your voice was small and hesitant and when Mason looked up and saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart broke all over again. He hated himself for how much pain he’d caused you in the past and how now it was happening again.
“Feel.”, he whispered, terrified of admitting it as chances were you didn’t feel the same anymore, but he needed to get it all off his chest to keep the tiny hope you’d take him back alive.
“I still love you, y/n. The truth is, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me because I know I’ll never be able to love anyone the way I love you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were special and that’s why it still hurts so much. I had the best person ever in my life and I fucked it up.”
“Mase.”, you sniffled, trying to hold your own tears back as you whipped Mason’s off his reddened cheeks. “Please don’t cry.”
“It’s ridiculous I know. I am the one who ruined the best thing ever and now I’m sitting here crying whilst you were the one I put through so much, but when they called yesterday, I thought I’d never get to tell you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me and I realised that I might never get the chance to hold you again and to tell you how much I love you and…I’m just such an idiot for pushing you away when all I ever wanted was to be with you”
His sobs and words were breaking your heart. Yeah, he’d hurt you, but it was obvious that he’d hurt himself too. Very much so and whilst you’d always wondered what it would take to heal fully from your break-up, you now realised that there was no way you’d ever get over it unless you faced the challenge and gave him a second chance.
A chance you knew he deserved. He’d dropped everything in Manchester, probably even went through the horror moment of calling his new manager and telling him he wouldn’t be able to attend training, only to then drive four hours to the capital to be here for you.
If he hadn’t cared, he would’ve sent Ben. But he hadn’t. And you appreciated it more than you could ever explain.
“I understand, Mase.”, you mumbled, pulling him into your chest and holding him close whilst you both cried in each other’s embrace.
“It’s not okay and it will take a while to be okay because you’ve hurt me a lot, but I accept your apology.”, you managed to say after a while, causing him to cry a little more and you gently ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scull in an attempt to calm him down. “Look at me please?”
When he pulled his face out of your neck and his bloodshot eyes found yours, you smiled at him softly.
“Yeah, you hurt me a lot and those last 8 months have been hell, but you’re here now and yes it will take a while to come to terms with it all, but Mase, I still love you too. I love you to bits and although I’ve really tried, I couldn’t get over you. There’s always been this pathetic hope to get you back someday.”, you sniffled as you sent him a teary smile. “Being without you was terrible and I don’t want to go through that again. You’re here now and we need to work on a lot of things and talk a little more, but I do want you back – if you’ll have me that is.”
Mason pulled his trembling bottom lip between his teeth as fresh tears fell. There was no way you’d just said that.
“Of course, I’ll have you.”, he sobbed. “There’s nothing else I want more.”
You gently cupped his face with your hands, thumbs brushing away the still falling tears and when he smiled at you, really smiled at you, your heart melted.
“I’ve missed you so much.”, he mumbled. “God, I’ve missed you so much you have no idea.”
“I do.”, you nodded. “Mase, I’ve missed you just as much.”
And before you could chicken out, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a hesitant, gentle kiss.  
—————
I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷
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sunandsstars · 1 year
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YAWNETU
CHAPTER 5
Jake x Neytiri x Na’vi!Reader
Summary: One other mate was enough, but two? Unneeded. ___ was the outcast, the unwanted woman. Jake and Neytiri wouldn’t ever see her..right? Warnings: Childbirth, Angst Word count: 3.6k A/N: ok so, I had to repost this chapter to be able to make edits since it didn’t let me before :’) enjoy, again
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___’s heartbeat thumped harshly against her chest, her breathing was ragged with shaky inhales and exhales. One hand rested upon her stomach while another leant on the ground behind her, supporting her body as she tipped back slightly. 
She needed to get back to camp, the healers there would be able to use the appropriate oils and salves to sooth her pains, they also would be able to safely deliver her baby. She could not do it alone after all, even if her skills were exceedingly good. 
The Na’vi grunted as she turned to stand up, getting into a squad to heave herself onto two feet. But as she did more water ran down her shaky legs and she huffed out, sitting back down onto the moss. She could not do it. Her birthing had to be done here. 
Alone. 
___ placed both hands behind her and scooted herself against the trunk of vitrautral, hopefully the great mother will guide her. The grass below her glowed a soft blue hue, even in the afternoon light she was able to make out the intricate glow. 
A sharp pain in her abdomen made her screech out, leaning forward and deeply breathing. She was no stranger to the stories of childbirth, her sa’nok, along with the other mothers of the village told her stories of their labours. The wetness, the pain, the screaming, then it was the bliss, holding their child for the first time in their arms. At the time she could not wait for it to happen to herself, but now she regretted everything, she wanted them out. 
More shouts left her plush lips as she moved to a squat, facing and leaning against the tree for support. One hand left the trunk to undo her tweng and feel her entrance, she was dilated. If she felt further she would of been able to make out the smoothness of a head. 
When the contractions started coming closer in time, ___ knew she had to push. She cried, tears leaking from her flushed face as she wailed prayers to Eywa for a safe delivery, for Sylwanin and her ancestors to look out for her. 
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Time passed by fast and eclipse was nearing, the sun slowly backing into the shadows to make way for the night.
A hand was placed onto ___’s warm shoulder and the woman’s ears twitched, head swivelling around and her eyes widened as she was faced with Mo’at. 
“___, ‘evi…” the Tsahìk reached a hand down to feel her daughter, the head was almost out already, it was no doubt she has been in labour for a while. “They are close” she smiled, reaching her head out to kiss her daughter in law’s wet cheek, “push ‘ite” 
A scream was released into the air as ___ forced herself to squeeze, her opening stretching to accommodate the life that was coming out of her. Mo’at sang comforting prayers to their deity, hand under the baby to get ready to catch them when they fell, she moved ___ to arch her back more, watching as the child slipped out with ease. 
The Tsahìk caught them, making sure to use her knife to cut the cord, “‘aw evengan, ma ‘ite” she grinned. The new mother turned her head and laughed, her lash line being coated with happy tears. Mo’at quickly moved to connect the boy’s queue to his mothers, tsaheylu was important for them to establish a mother-child bond. She moved him into his sa’nok’s arms as she weeped, he was beautiful. “What are you naming him?” 
“Sylwaì” ___’s lip wobbled, ‘‘Sylwanin was a good name after all…’’. Before Mo’at could say anything else, another pained shout echoed through the cliffs that surrounded them. The elder was quick to asses the woman, checking her for any injuries until she felt her belly. 
It was still large. 
Immediately she felt ___’s entrance once again and gasped when another head had appeared. Another baby. This was never seen in the Na’vi, it was an enigma, something that may be caused by Jake’s human genes.
Without time to dwell, the Tsahìk coaxed the still squatting woman to squeeze once again, giving her praises and going back to singing hymns. ___ held her son close to her chest as he pawed at her chest beads, feeling her mothers distress through the bond. 
But it was easier the second time around, the next baby came out without much of a hitch. After another push they slipped out and their mother collapsed after Mo’at cut the cord once again, “another boy, mune ‘itan, you have truly been blessed, Eywa has seen to you that you get the family you deserve”
“Sylwaì ulte Syatxì. My sons. My beautiful children” ___ grinned at the chubby boys as she formed the bond, connecting her second born to the tsaheylu that was already connected with his brother. The three bonded and all ___ felt was ‘onglawn, the exhilaration feeling the bond take place. She felt their calm breaths, their slow beating hearts and happy thoughts. Her happy babies. 
“They are small, you have given birth too early ‘ite” The Tsahìk made sure the new mother was rested against the tree, looking around the dark horizon and back to the small family, smiling “but they are healthy, the great mother says they will be strong” she placed a hand on the others head, sending thanks to Eywa for the safe delivery. If she had not made it in time, she would not know how this would have turned out. 
“How did you know I was in labour?” ___ looked up, still panting slightly. Her yellow eyes twinkled in the light of the tree of souls and her face glowed like any other new mother. 
Mo’at tapped her own nose once, then tapped the other woman’s “a Tsahìk sees all” was the only words she said. But it was enough. Interpreting the will of Eywa was not something anyone could do, her mother in law holds a special bond with Pandora.
___ looked down at the boys who cooed sleepily “I did all the work to bring you here, and yet you are the ones who are tired?” the two women chuckled. The na’vi looked back up and sighed heavily, only one thought emerging from the back of her mind, making itself prominent in the way it pangs painfully. 
Her mates. What would they say about this?
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When the sun emerged from the giant planet, Polyphemus, and bathed Pandora with light once again, ___ awoke with her children resting safely in her arms. Mo’at a few feet away with some fruit cut up in front of her.
She sat up slowly and looked down to see her loincloth put back into place, her mother in law must have cleaned her when she was resting. A whine caught her attention and her ears swivelled, eyes landing on the boys stretching their little legs. ___ grinned brightly and brought them up to her chest, letting them suckle her for milk. 
“Come, have some food. You should be hungry, like your boys” her mother beckoned her over, handing her slices of yovo. “We must get you back to the clan soon, their family must meet them” 
At the mention of her mates, ___ turned her ears down. She did not want for her sons to be treated with unfair cruelty just like she had, and she knew that the couple would not hold back just because she gave birth to their sons. “I do not want to” 
“What?” Mo’at looked at her like she grew two heads, she had an idea what has been happening with her children and tried to stop any wrongdoings. But she could not prevent what they did behind closed curtains in the privacy of their home. She felt helpless, and only wished for the great mother to guide them all to a better future. 
“I do not want to go back. You know what will happen if I do. I cannot deal with this mistreatment on myself and I cannot allow it to happen to my sons” ___ kisses each boy on the back of their head, rubbing her thumbs on their backs as comfort. “I want to leave” 
The elder’s eyes softened at the display of affection, pupils dilating in understanding. “If that is what you wish, I will help you ‘ite. But I hesitate, when you leave, I will no longer be able to watch you” 
“But you are Tsahìk, I thought you see all” ___ jested, gaining a smile in return. “I leave tonight. But I do not know where to go, Pandora is too big and too dangerous” 
“The Metkayina are reef Na’vi. If you travel beyond the sea you will be able to reach them, they will take you in. But the journey is long, you will need to be prepared for it” Mo’at stood up and helped ___ in the process, holding a hand on the young Na’vi’s back as they walked in the direction of camp. Speaking hushed whispers of where she would go, who she would meet, what to expect and what to take for her boys. 
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Sylwaì and Syatxì wriggled in their mothers hold, ears twitching and small tails wrapping around her wrists as they entered their home. Na’vi gasped at the family, having not seen their Tsahìk and her daughter in law for hours, they were starting to grow worried. But now they were back, bringing two small babies with them. 
Some approached her to get a closer look, offering smiles and their congratulations. ___ grinned back, happy at the love her people saw for the babies. They both cooed when the women of the clan stroked their little hands and small noses. 
“We give our thanks to Eywa, who has brought safe delivery to our new members, and your Olo’eyktan’s first borns” Mo’at lifted her hands to the sky while the clan cheered and whooped. 
At the sound of loud shouting, Jake and Neytiri both turned to eachother, worried that something has happened while they were in their home. The woman dropped her basket weaving and rushed to grab her bow, Jake quickly doing the same for his gun while they slid down to the forest floor. “What’s going on?” he approached the large group, ready to attack. 
The clan parted for their leaders to see and it was a sight that was most unexpected. ___ stood in the centre, looking tired but glowing all the same, holding two Na’vi babies in her arms. Neytiri’s eyes widened, looking from the babes to the mother’s now flat stomach, putting two and two together, “those children…” she whispered, mind wondering off. ___ gave birth without their knowledge, to two nonetheless and much earlier than anticipated. 
Jake dropped his gun, staring at the boys. They were twins, both looking the exact same with three fingers and small tufts of hair on their head. They were cute, especially when they tried to open their eyes and reach their small hands to grasp whatever they could, making the sweetest sounds to their mama.
His babies. His boys. 
He tried to walk closer to the group, taking careful steps but saw the way ___ clutched them closer, to the naked eye it would just look like she wanted a better hold on them. But to Jake’s, he saw the fear in her yellow orbs, the way she stared at him with anticipation, waiting for his next move. He stopped and his ears went down slightly. 
“Omaticaya, we leave the family to rest” Mo’at, ever the observant, shooed the people away while her children and grandsons got acquainted, making sure to keep a close eye on them if anything were to happen. She will not allow her grandchildren to also suffer.
Once the clan parted and went back to their chores, Neytiri walked next to her husband, a sadness coating her face. “When…when did you do it” she looked into the eyes of the new mother and saw a sight she has become all to familiar with, it filled her with grief. Has she caused this? Deep down she knew she had, everything leading up to this moment was her fault. 
___ stepped back slightly, eyes never leaving the couple, “last night…” she softly whimpered when Syatxì’s tail tightened on her wounded wrist, it has been treated, but still hurts and will take time to heal. The sound caused the two Na’vi in front of her to instinctively perk up, their eyes looking over her for any injuries and Neytiri’s breath hitched when landing on her wrist.
___ saw the change in her expression and decided to leave, she did not want to dwell with them for longer than she had to. She excused herself and walked away towards their home, climbing the tree to the best of her ability and settling down once she was inside the hut. She did not want to hear what they had to say. Not ever again.
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___ strolled towards Hellsgate, after the hassle the clan made of her coming back she decided to pay the humans a visit, including Spider. Her twins were strapped in their carrier, one on the front and one on the back, both squealing happily at the atokirina that flew down and tickled them. Eywa was watching.
The Na’vi stepped over roots and rocks, finally seeing the entrance to the building a few ways ahead. Slowly walking down the hill and going towards it, hoping that they would not be alarmed by her sudden presence. “Kaltxì” the woman called once she was close enough, knocking on the door and grinning at the small man who opened it, Max. 
“Hi ___! Come inside - oh! Congrats on the babies!” he cheerfully waved at her little ones, the babies stared at him, sucking their thumbs and most likely trying to see who he was through their growing eye sight. The Na’vi walked into the air lock, waiting for the next door to open so they could finally be where the rest of the tawtute were. Max strolled in front of her, pointing out where Norm was most likely at and she thanked him in English, some of these humans do not understand Na’vi so she made sure to adapt for them. “Hey ___” Norm grinned at her tiredly, noting the two babies strapped to her he blinked, surprised, “they are early” he stated, getting up from his seat and walking towards her. The taller woman kneeled down to introduce them, offering Norm to hold one, after their constant get togethers she grew to trust him. “No, I would rather not, Spider has been acting up like crazy and I think I’ve had my fill of kids for now…No offence!” He quickly added, not wanting to come off as rude.
___ smiled at him, understanding, sometimes the children she took care of can be a bit much “it is okay Norm, where is Spider though?”. The man pointed to a hallway just across from them, telling her that the boy was in the first room to the left. He quickly grabbed a breathing mask for her, noting that she had none on and urged her to take it before sending her off.
___ looped the device around her neck, understanding his concern but she will not need it, she is not staying long.
Little Miles was in a colourful room, playing with some wooden toys she have carved out a couple of weeks ago, in his left hand he held a figure of Toruk and in the right a Na’vi. He squealed when he saw her walk through the too small door, standing up on little legs and rushing towards her. “Hi! Hi!” he bellowed cutely, hugging her calf and rubbing his cheek on it.
The woman grinned brightly and sat down so they could be closer, untying her babies to introduce them to each other. “‘evi, this is Sylwaì and Syatxì” she observed as the human boy looked between the two and pointed to ___’s tummy in question. “Srane, I have gave birth to them last night” she stoked the boys blonde curls and watched as he poked one of the babies arms, he was as big as them. It made her giggle.
Her laughter mellowed at why she came to him in the first place, she had to tell him the news. Spider may not understand properly, but she loves the child, he deserves to be made aware. “Spider. Please look at me” she lifted his head to stare into his brown eyes softly “I am leaving Omaticaya” her voice cracked.
The toddler looked at her with confusion, only really understanding the word ‘leave’ after having heard it plenty when saying goodbye, but seeing the tears in the woman’s eyes he knew this was much more serious, “Leave?”
“Srane. I am leaving forever”
The English processed in his head and the boy felt his eyes well up, lip quivering. “Kehe! Stay! Sa’nok!”
___’s heart broke. Mother. He called her mother. She picked him up and placed him with her twins, kissing his head and wiping his tears. “Ma ‘itan. I have to. I do not feel safe here” he dulled down and whimpered, nodding his head. Smart boy, her smart boy. “I can not take you with me either, yawnetu. It is not safe for a tawtute, you can get hurt”
Spider nodded again slowly, coming to terms with their departure. Small tears dropped down his chubby cheeks, he was scared to lose her. But if she did not want to be here he can not stop her. “Sa’nok…” he cuddled into her large blue body, sniffling. ___ cooed and tried her best to comfort him, feeling her own sadness drip down her face.
“My child. We will see each other again. Become strong. Eywa will guide you, I promise” she took of the thin choker she wore around her neck, the beads shined in pretty blues and browns. ___ wrapped it around little Miles’s arm, touching her forehead to his. “‘itan, I will always love you”
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The tree of souls glistened in the night of Pandora, ___ wanted the ceremony done now before she were to leave for good, who knows when her boys would ever get the chance to connect to a sacred space again? The reefs journey was long and there was no vitrautral for miles.
Mo’at chanted prayers into the air, the Omaticaya swayed in the back, humming songs of support, the floor glowed with their connection, a bright teal pulsed into the darkness. Syatxì and Sylwaì’s kurus linked with one of the hanging branches, it glowing with the newfound connection.
The two babies smiled gummy smiles to their parents, feeling the warmth of their great mother and the love that she holds for her children. Sylwaì gurgled happily at ___, her pupils dilated in pure bliss in return. Her sons were now connected to Pandora, they will grow with a strong connection to their deity and all living things.
Jake held Syatxì in his strong arms, as was custom for an Olo’eyktan and a father of almost three. He stared into his boys yellow eyes as he cooed, a small smile graced the man’s face as the baby made sweet sounds. How could he ever be deprived of them? How did he ever have the nerve to do this to their mother?
He glanced towards his left where ___ kissed Sylwaì’s forehead, heart beating just a tad faster. She was beautiful, she has always been beautiful. He just couldn’t believe it took so long to see it. To see her.
Mo’at nodded towards Jake curtly as she passed him, ending the ceremony with chirps and loud words of thanks. She was happy for her daughter in law, but not happy with her son. He did not deserve to hold that baby, but she could not protest, as is the way.
“My sweet babies” ___ whispered, nuzzling into the boy she held, pride overtaking her every being. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Neytiri grinning at her, also proud of her old friend and mate for achieving something so great. ___’s mood instantly mellowed, she does not get to be proud.
Not after all she has done.
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Her ikran landed onto the branch just a couple of minutes away from the clan, squawking at the sight of her rider and new offspring’s. “Kaltxì Tìlor” ___ stroked the nose of the creature, laughing quietly as she was smothered. “We must go. Far away” she connected queues and instantly Tìlor understood, wings flapping and pupils dilating. She must get her rider to safety.
___’s sons were in their carrier on either side of their mother once more, but this time swabbed in blankets just to make sure they will stay warm. It was an eight hour journey to the reefs, there she will find a clan that can take her in.
She has had enough of her mates mistreatment, it was about time she left. With the birth of her twins it motivated her to keep them safe from the hands of Jake and Neytiri who still slept soundly in their bed.
The Na’vi left the home she shared earlier that night, packing essentials such as food, water, warm clothes and memorabilia. She took Sylwanins beads and some of Mo’at’s jewellery, items to remember her home and loved ones here. She does not know if or when she will come back.
___ jumped softly up onto Tìlor’s back, urging her to lift up into the sky and away from Omaticaya. She looked back in sadness, high enough to see Hellsgate just past the tree line.
She prays that Jake and Neytiri will never find her.
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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and what about Rooster? we all know he's loud and the life of the party( nothing wrong with that) but what about when the squad finally meets his "misterious lady" and she's super sweet and calm , the only one who can ground her and they're total opposites but complete each other
please send me top gun requests!!!
--
Rooster's four beers in, and not stopping soon. The bottle in his hand leaks condensation on the bar, but he doesn't notice as he's shouting to be heard by Coyote who's perched three stools away from him. Phoenix and Fanboy are between them, taking every opportunity they can to root for Bob who was standing at the pool table, and to laugh at Hangman, who was opposite him.
"-anyways I said- I said babe!" Rooster hollers, far too animated as Coyote strains to hear him, "You gotta come tonight! Everyone wants to- to meet you!"
"Man I still don't believe she's real," Coyote grins, taking a sip of his own beer, "You gotta be makin' her up."
"I'm not," Rooster insists, shaking his head, "'Swear to god she's as real as- babe!"
He spots you stepping tentatively into the bar, eyes wide as you scan the room. Everyone there is drinking, everyone there is loud, and everyone there is a stranger.
Except, of course, the man at the bar. Rooster barrels towards you with excitement far too elevated for your sensory levels right now, and you brace yourself for impact. Luckily, he supports you while he tackles you, catching you before you can fall when your feet aren't on the floor anymore.
"Baaaabe," He gushes, squeezing you tight to his chest, trapping your arms at your sides. He lifts you off of your feet and rocks you side to side, beer back at the bar but not forgotten as it courses through his systems, "You're here!"
"I told you I'd come," The hug is comforting, even if it suffocates you, and you breathe in the scent of his laundry detergent through his faded hawaiian shirt. You'd started using the same brand, and you feel closer to him than ever.
"How was work?" He keeps his mouth close to your ear as he leads you through the bar, an arm around your shoulders to weave you through the patrons, "Did you get that project done?"
"Mhm," You hum, your hand still gripping the fabric of his shirt, "One of my team members was out sick today, but she still emailed me stuff. It wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be."
"I'm proud of you," He croons, reaching his stool and easing you into it, "I think you deserve a drink for your efforts."
"Just one, and something light." You warn him, eyes wide, "I'm driving us both home tonight."
He seems to agree with you, though you're not sure if he'll remember by the time you're finished with your first one. There's a moment of silence between you, though the ambiance of the bar still rages around you, and then Bradley's perking up again.
"Oh! He steps out from where he's standing between you and three more occupied stools, "Guys! This is Y/N."
Coyote, who'd joined in on the spectacle of Hangman v Bob, doesn't hear him at first. Phoenix, who you recognize from Rooster's stories, greets you kindly, making a remark about dealing with Rooster 24/7 that's admittedly funny enough to make you giggle.
"Coyote," Rooster shouts, reaching over to smack him on the shoulder, "I said, this is Y/N! Babe," He turns to you, voice still at full volume, "This is-!"
You slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish, eyes nearly squeezing shut as he yells in your face. He doesn't mean to, of course, but the noise is overpowering, and you can't take it.
"Too loud," You remind him, voice soft in comparison. He hears it, watches your lips move while you're speaking, and realizes his mistake, albeit too late. You feel him press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand in apology, his mustache tickling your skin.
"Sorry," He mumbles, much quieter now. You drop your hand so that he can speak normally, but he catches it on the way down, bringing it back up to his lips. He dots kisses along each of your knuckles, standing between you and the open space of the bar so that you're shielded from some of the hustle and bustle, "Didn't mean to scream at you."
"It's okay," You laugh fondly, letting your hand rest in his own. You turn back to Coyote, clocking his wide-eyed expression, "It's nice to meet you!"
"You too," He gushes, eyes bright, "You got him to shut up!"
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clarareberosen · 1 month
Text
I love the attention to detail. Two islands of light. Crosshair on one, the others on the other. They perfectly displayed the huge gap that was created in the first season by Cross. Now he needs to regain the trust of his brothers after almost a year of living apart. From now on, the arc of Crosshair's correction begins in the eyes of the rest of the squad, his rehabilitation begins now and it is not known how soon he will be able to become a full-fledged part of this family again. When they trust him again and accept him as their own.
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Omega will most likely help him with this. She was generally a ray of light, a supportive sister who you want to protect. She's the only one who believed in Cross, who trusts him even after all this time. Now that her brother has stopped listening to his demons and has begun his redemption, she must help him become Clone 99 again.
I sincerely hope that his story will not end with his death, otherwise we have already lost one.
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pablitogavii · 11 months
Text
Anger Issues
Summary: People keep coming at Pablo for being 'too aggressive' on and off the pitch and that makes him frustrated. He tried to shield you from it all but when they start assuming he must be just as aggressive with you, he completely looses it!
Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader
Warnings: light angst/ fluff/ smutty ending ;)
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pablogavi
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Get up when you fall! Vamos Culers!! @fcbarcelona
comments:
halamadrid: So much aggression from this overrated tiktok star #nogame!! vini>>>>> liked by 1200 others
madrileñoslovemadrid: siempre agresivo!!
realmadridislove: because he doesn't know how to play!!
gavirafanclub: jealousy!!!
madrileñoslovemadrid: nahh pretty boy just a kid!
viniciusthegoat: little kid wants to act like a big star but all he does is push players! #weak!!
brasileños: go back to La Masia kid!! liked by 1500 others
y.n.bebe: te amo bebé <3
pablogavi: <3
You saw all the horrible comments on Pablo's newest post so you hoped that yours will at least make him smile weakly. People were so harsh with him, always calling him aggressive kid who doesn't belong in the first Barça squad.
They had no idea how wrong they are...Pablo worked hard every single day, training tirelessly without complaining, and the only time he does act 'aggressive' is when he is being provoked into it.
When he came home, you tried talking to him but he just says he is 'fine' before going to take a shower he really needed after all morning of running around the pitch.
"I don't know Becca. He won't talk to me...but I can tell this is getting to him. Does Pedri know anything??" you said into the phone after a few days when Pablo definitely started feeling worse still not letting you in avoiding the conversation whenever you would bring it up.
"Bebé do you want to talk to me about it now?" you said when you laid down in bed and he just pulled you back so that your back was glued to his chest and he rested his chin on your shoulder shaking his head.
"What are you reading cariño?" you sat in between his legs on the couch seeing that he was once again reading some stupid post he was tagged in that did nothing but humiliate him. You took his phone away and nuzzled your face into his neck once more trying to talk but he said he just wants to sit there with you in silence and that he will be alright.
"Pablo...I think you should talk to me" you said when you saw him clenching his jaw suppressing his anger from boiling over and cause him to break everything in his proximity. Apparently, Vinicius Jr said in his interview that Gavi is nothing more than an 'angry kid' that got destroyed in the last El Clásico. "There is nothing to say amor! He is stupid hijo de puta! I need to go for a run!" was all he said before rushing out of our apartment faster than I could say anything.
"Pepi said Pablo has been on edge recently even during training..hitting grass when he would miss a goal and avoiding to joke around with other players" Becca said and you knew it was just a matter of time until he bursts not knowing what to do to get him to open up to you.
During the next game, you went to support him hoping that would give him some push and reassurance that he is still campeon in your eyes and that he shouldn't let those mouth breathers ruin his confidence.
First half went great with Barça scoring one goal, and keeping many more but the moment the second half started you could tell they were provoking Pablo again.
You knew him well to notice the way his shoulders shift and his jaw keeps clenching as he played knowing this will end in a disaster. He was running towards the goal scoring it and making the whole camp jump to its feet when the referee said it was off-side without even sending it to the VAR room.
Pablo was angry with this hitting the ground (gif) and once he got up some opposing players purposefully bumped into him as he walked back to his position. They were really pushing their luck.
All of the sudden there was crowd in the middle of the pitch and you immediately knew who was in the middle of it- your Pablo. When players started moving as referee rushed to the commotion you saw Pablo yelling with his hands in the air repeating he didn't start anything. But it didn't matter, since he received red card being sent off the field and your stomach dropped.
As he walked off, he looked up to meet your eyes and you gave him a weak smile he returned before being quickly distracted by one of the opposing players form the bench yelling 'bye bye Pablito' and as he was about to rush towards him, Xavi grabbed his shoulders pushing him towards the changing rooms.
You rushed back with your 'family pass' knowing that you might be only person he would want to see right now. You saw Xavi leaving him inside the dressing room telling you that he is in pretty bad shape and that he asked for you.
"Bebé?" you opened the door looking up with tearful eyes and you quickly rushed to him sitting on his lap and hugging him tightly not caring that he was sweaty in that moment.
"I'm sorry you had to see that..I'm so sorry princesa" he was crying into your neck and you kissed his head pulling back a little before moving hair off his sweaty forehead pecking his lips a few times sweetly.
"Don't apologize, Pablo..I am still proud of you..It's not easy when everyone is provoking and pushing you around..and you still menage to score the goal and keep playing..you are my campeon bebé" you say seeing his eyes sparkle at the praise he haven't heard in a long time.
"I know I've been pushing you away too.." he said and you shook your head telling him you understand and aren't going anywhere.
After a few minutes, when Pablo finally calmed down just by being in your presence, you walked out of the changing rooms holding hands not expecting to come face to face with the same player who got Pablo kicked out. He must be substituted and you felt Pablo's hold on your hand tighten as his anger returned.
"What a win for us huh?" he said smirking and Pablo's eyes opened wide knowing that when he left, Barça was still leading. You saw that he tried not to let his anger out again but the player was really provoking him badly right now.
"It's okay, Pablito..this is a big boy game..maybe La Masia should take you back??" he said and you placed your hand on Pablo chest saying you should both go watch till the end together and to your surprise he agreed walking off without doing something 'angry bird' like.
y.n.bebe
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mi campeon! @pablogavi @fcbarcelona
pablogavi: te amo princesa! <3 liked by y.n.bebe
fcbarcelona: Golden Boy! liked by y.n.bebe
its.becca.girl: Vamos Barça!!
y.n.bebe: siempre hermanita!! <3
siramartinez: supporting our man!
y.n.bebe: always!!
gavifangirling: she is such a supporting gf!! Love it!! <333. liked by y.n.bebe
madrileñosforevaa: girl he is like so aggressive!
halamadrid: nahhh vini>>>>>
gavihateclub: he is probably just as aggressive with her!! @pablogavi
"Now they are saying I am being aggressive to my girl dad!" Pablo couldn't believe the things people were saying online after the last game.
It was one thing to call him a kid, or say that he didn't know how to play but to pull you into it and say he would ever do something to hurt you is past the limit. He can't stay silent anymore! This was taking it too far now!
"Amor?" you said when he just rushed in your shared apartment not even saying a 'hello' before walking into your shared bedroom and tossed himself onto the bed.
You sighed knowing that he must have seen the awful comment someone left on your post which hurt you heart as well. Pablo was the most caring and gentle boyfriend in the whole world to you!
"Bebé can you look at me please?" you said after sitting down on the bed next to him and rubbing his back while hearing his softly sob into the pillow. It broke your heart to see him like this.
He just shook his head knowing that the moment he looks at you he won't be able to stop crying again..he could deal with all the shit they throw on him but when it comes to you, he wants everyone to know that he treats you like an absolute queen because that's what you deserve!
You laid down besides him kissing the back of his neck before nuzzling your face further kissing his cheeks and making him slowly turn around so you can straddle his hips and peck his lips finally.
"Am I too aggressive with you?" he said and you dried his tears your heart breaking that he could ever question you about this. Those people really got into his head.
"Amor, you are the most caring and loving boyfriend in the world..you always make sure to see me every day even when you are away you always face time me before bed...you buy me roses out of nowhere and write me cute notes when you have early morning trainings..you mi cariño are not aggressive person they are portraying you to be..not in football and especially not to me" you say as he listened carefully before pulling you down and kissing your lips feverishly.
"I love you so much princesa..please don't ever leave me" he said and you smiled into the kiss before kissing down his neck and messing up his hair playfully.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Gavira!" you said while laying down on top of him and his arms engulfed you tightly while he kissed your head.
"Good. Because I couldn't imagine doing this without you nena.." he said feeling exhausted and you smiled cuddling up and slowly dozing off together.
The next day you wanted to surprise him with a little trip to the beach with all of his friends knowing that it was a day off for everyone and that he could use being with people who love him.
Even Aurora and Javi joined and the whole day Pablo was smiling and joking with everyone, stealing kisses from you and enjoying being 'normal'.
You were glad everyone showed up and showed how much they care for him especially when you saw his happy little face. You never wanted that smile to disappear again!
"Can you take a picture of us Becca?" you said giving you your phone and pulling Pablo towards the ocean before jumping into his arms and he held you up easily leaning in to kiss your lips while everyone cheered. He was so happy when you finally kissed before he put you down and held your face for a few moments.
"Thank you princesa.." he said and you smiled when he kissed your forehead.
"Always, cariño..I love you" you smile getting another kiss before you returned to hang out with the rest of your friends.
"Today was amazing, hermosa..I really enjoyed" Pablo said when you returned to the apartment and you felt really glad to hear that.
"There is something I need to do still.." you said opening Instagram up on your phone.
y.n.bebe
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Para el novio mas amoroso del mundo! Te amo amorcito! <33 Gracias gracias por tratarme como una princesa siempre. @pablogavi
liked by 100K others
comments:
pablogavi: porque tu eres mi princesa <33
y.n.bebe: amor!! <3
barcafanclub: he is the sweetest boy! to his fans and to his girlfriend! those saying he is aggressive with her are rude and stupid! Siempre Amor!!! @pablogavi @y.n.bebe
its.becca.girl: sweetest couple en toda la Barcelona!!
pedri: them and us amor lol <3
y.n.bebe: double trouble pepi!! lol liked by pedri
pablogavi: estamos suerte hermano! liked by pedri
gaviiifan: people should stop hating on him for being a good player and clearly the best boyfriend bruh!!
viscabarcasiempre: Gavi! Gavi! Campeon!!!!
gairagirl: people saying he is not a player but a tiktok star are just jealous of his success! they hate him cause they ain't him! @y.n.bebe a lucky girl <33. liked [email protected]
siramartinez: girl being treated right! shutting up the haters!
y.n.bebe: siempre! <3
ansufati: amor para mi hermano! we all know you the best! @pablogavi
pablogavi: hermano <3
@_rl9 I have known @pablogavi for such a long time now, and the boy is truly the kindest down to earth kid you will ever meet. He shows up to all training ready to go and he never complains! His talent and heart shouldn't be questions! Tue eres chico orgulloso! liked by y.n.bebe pablogavi and others
pablogavi: gracias lewy! te amo siempre ídolo!
731 notes · View notes
diorsbrando · 13 days
Text
I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )
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sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.
cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).
word count ━━ 11k
notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!
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THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.
It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.
Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.
Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.
The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.
His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.
Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.
Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.
Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.
Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.
So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.
But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.
Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.
With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.
Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.
But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.
Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.
After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.
When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.
But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.
Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.
You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.
The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."
"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.
The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.
"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."
You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."
You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.
"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"
You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."
Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.
"Shall we be on our way?"
You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.
Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.
But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.
After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."
Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”
The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”
You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.
"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"
He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"
You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.
A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."
The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.
You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.
"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"
"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"
You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."
The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"
With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .
"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.
Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.
You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.
The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.
"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.
The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.
“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.
It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.
A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”
The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.
The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.
“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.
The captain's movements seemed steady and slow━ it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.
Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.
But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.
He seemed . . . . closer.
“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."
Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.
The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.
"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."
You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.
"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.
You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.
Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?
The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.
"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."
"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?
Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .
"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."
Wait, what did he just━
Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.
But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.
It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.
It was blood.
Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.
Aizen's blade.
"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."
You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.
You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "
A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.
Fuck....was this really happening?
"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."
'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.
The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.
Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.
As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.
Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.
A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.
What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.
Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.
"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "
"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."
All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.
You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.
There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.
That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.
It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.
The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.
" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.
There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."
The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.
His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.
This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .
Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.
"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"
Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.
"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."
A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.
It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.
The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"
The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.
" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."
At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.
"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.
The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."
You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.
Which reminded you of something else.
" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.
Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.
You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.
"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"
The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━
A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.
Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .
Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.
Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.
It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.
And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.
Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.
Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.
"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.
"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."
Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.
You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.
But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.
This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.
"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.
Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.
And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.
That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.
They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.
The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.
And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.
Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.
And yet.
He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.
It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.
━━━━━━ 鏡  ━━━━━━━
It was dark, and there was nothing.
There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.
He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.
Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.
Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.
Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.
And yet, here he ended up.
Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.
Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.
The thrill of a challenge.
Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.
It made him feel alive.
Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.
All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.
As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.
Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.
Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.
These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.
Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.
Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'
Aizen found amusement in that.
Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."
There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.
But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.
The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.
What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.
The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.
His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.
After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.
This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.
Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.
Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.
His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.
And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.
When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.
Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.
How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.
But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.
Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.
What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.
The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.
Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.
He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.
So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━
"Y....know, S....."
Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?
It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.
One drop at a time.
Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.
"You...know.....Sōsuke."
In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.
That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.
Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.
"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.
Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.
An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.
A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.
Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.
"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."
The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.
He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.
"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"
Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"
Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.
"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."
Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.
"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.
With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.
"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?
Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.
"I called you here to save you from yourself."
Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"
"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."
Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.
His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?
"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."
"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."
The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.
Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.
"You regret . . . killing me."
A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.
Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.
The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."
Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.
The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.
He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.
Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.
"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."
Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.
He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.
Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"
Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.
Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.
Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."
Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.
Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.
And they loved it.
"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."
Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.
"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"
Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.
Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."
The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.
Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.
The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .
As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.
Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.
The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.
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korpuskat · 8 months
Text
In a Different Light
[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Explicit WC: 9,256 Warnings: Super vanilla + size difference
He’d become fixated, completely focused on a group of soldiers hiding behind a line of armored vehicles. If he could just dislodge them, they’d have an uncontested avenue deeper into the city. He knows he can rush them, can get in close and punch straight through their cover. He peaks, HUD picking up each heat signature before him- more soldiers to the right than the left.
He doesn’t see the one four stories above them.
”Down!” He recognizes your voice, but doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. He can handle this, doesn’t need your tactical input-
And your arms close around his waist. What? He looks down, takes his optics off the enemy- and he feels your heel kick behind his knee. It’s not nearly enough to buckle him- but he allows himself to go down anyway, dropping into a heap back behind the barricade.
The bullet cuts through a ribbon cable.
You sink back into the seat, weight falling off your shoulders. Under the roar of the engines sliding from VTOL to forward propulsion, your sigh is completely inaudible, utterly silent to everyone. Everyone except Ramattra’s sensitive audials. You close your eyes and lean back, yet unaware of his gaze on you. He watches your pulse reading slow from its rabbit-fast battle-ready pace, lets his optics linger on the long line of your throat. The skin there is thin enough he could feel your heartbeat. His servos itch to reach out and try it.
He had let you pull him down. Why? A snap decision he hadn't even processed consciously. But why did he trust you that much? He scours his deeply-rooted runtimes, searching for what it was about you that had tipped that reaction in your favor. In his favor, given the cable that sparks brightly at the corner of his optics.
He'd nearly crushed you, only landing on his elbow at the last moment. You must've known how badly he could've hurt you; your eyes were wide, breath held in your chest as you looked up to him.
He was touching you. Your arms were still wrapped around his chassis, hands splayed near the sensitive column of his spine, legs aligned with his body, one hooked around his thigh. His hand at your hip. In the peaking lines between your armor, everywhere your skin touched his metal he could feel your heat, your heartbeat.
For a moment, all you could do is stare at each other. For a moment, he couldn't seem to focus on his objective.
You slowly unwound your hold, but don't quite take your hands off him. They end up holding the broad ribs of his armor. He's... glad. He liked the contact. He squeezed your hip, relished in the soft give of your skin and fat and muscle.
"Sniper," You had finally breathed- and the spell was broken. Back to work.
The rest of the squad cheers and chats jovially, an easy mission. He would agree, more or less. As far as he can tell, the only casualty was his own shattered cosmetic cabling- an effortless fix for another time, for now he simply disconnects the damaged cable. But you aren't celebrating with them. The entire flight, you've kept your head back and eyes closed, swaying softly with turbulence. He can tell you're not asleep. Even if his HUD wasn't keeping him painfully aware of your vitals, he watches your hands rub at the corners of your armor plating the entire time, watches the twinges of your expression.
Pain? Ramattra wonders. Had he hurt you after all?
His GPS pings an alert for their probable arrival a few minutes before the engines shift again. When they do, it jostles you up, leaving you grabbing the supports around you as the ship comes in to land. His gyros keep him steady, never having to look away from his study of you. Without fanfare, the cargo door opens and most of the troops pile out. You stand, grab your gear-
and you look back at him. A little smile, a slight nod. He cannot smile back, would not if he could, but he nods in turn at you. You leave, following the line of soldiers ahead of you.
Only when everyone else has left does Ramattra stand.
Your quarters are blessedly quiet, at least compared to the open bustle of the barracks. The insulation between walls is thin, built for structural support, not individual solitude. At least in the lower officers quarters. The higher-ups are probably given more leeway on creature comforts. You heard once that Doomfist has a hot tub in every base.
You’d kill for a hot tub right now.
Still, it's quiet and secluded enough for you to drop your gear and close the door behind you. The ceramic of your armor clicks against the metal door frame as you lean back. Even the slight shift of your weight off your feet brings relief- as does the cold metal that presses to the nape of your neck, the backs of your arms.
He was warmer. Still much too cool to be mistaken as anything organic, but still... warmer than you had expected. The buzzing of his CPUs must radiate enough heat to bring him just above the freezing metal you had expected. He had moved more, too- the spinning of his fans had made him vibrate softly under your fingertips, but more shocking than that, it was as though he was breathing, a rhythmic movement of his chest. Some kind of ventilation, you’d guess.
You close your eyes. The fall onto your back had knocked the wind out of you- but the weight of him had never landed. No, he had perched over you, balanced on one sturdy arm, the cables of his mane dangling- the matte black making the stark white of his faceplate almost glow. You're sure it's just lights from his LEDs, but in the black shadows you'd swear you saw the red of his HUD in his optics. And he was touching you- cool fingers had somehow wound up between the hard lines of your armor, slipped right up under your shirt. Five mechanical fingers that squeezed so gently, so unnecessarily.
His presence around Talon was... sporadic at best- and you'd never actually worked with him before. His disdain for humans was common knowledge, but so when you'd been assigned to his team you had no way to anticipate that outcome. And yet it wasn’t… unwelcome.
With a groan you stand up again- no use pondering it fully geared-up at least. Your forearm guards come off easily, with satisfying clicks. You toss the plating onto your bunk; you’ll have to inspect it later- given the fall you’d had, you might already need to replace some of it. Next, your boots- which clatter together as you kick them away.
You reach up over your shoulder to undo the chestplate- and hiss with pain. Your upper back lights up with sore muscles, not yet ready to be used again. Fuck, okay. You’ll get back to that one, you guess. Instead, you twist your arm behind your low back and undo the armor over your belly.
Your door clangs- loud enough for you to jump. What the fuck? Who would be bothering you now? You hastily drop that piece onto the same pile and turn the handle-
Oh.
He's out of place this deep in Talon's barracks. He seems to know this, adjusting his posture to stand tall before you- a defensive stance against the curious eyes of your fellow soldiers that pass by. At full height he just about touches the upper edge of the door frame, making you have to tip your head back just to look at him this close. Even though there's no malice in his stance, your skin prickles.
As much as you were captivated by your little shared moment in the street, Ramattra is still your boss, more or less- his alliances with Talon are much further up the food chain than you- and there's no good formal reason for him to be here. So, you treat him as though he's one of the council. Someone way, way above your pay grade with enough power to end you and never even see paperwork for it. You stand up straight and square your shoulders, lower your gaze with a perfectly canned "Yes, Sir?"
His optics drop before he can override it; somehow he did not expect you to be undressing. Even with your undershirt still on under the white Talon armor, his thoughts race, circuitry threatening to overclock. At your voice, however, Ramattra makes a noise of disgust, shifts his head as if scowling. "Enough of that, save it for Akande." You blink, lift your sight back to his faceplate as though it made any difference in reading him. He must've already cleaned up; there once was post-battle grime, but it's already been wiped away. You look to his cabled mane- and there, too, his damaged ribbon cable is gone. "I came to speak with you." Suspicion rises again in your chest, even as he clarifies, "Informally."
Informally in Talon usually meant some kind of internal politicking that you avoided as best you could. Somehow, that doesn't feel right here- why the fuck would he have use for you?- but you don't let down your guard just yet. The instinct to tack on sir to the end of the question is so strong it nearly slips out. "What about?"
"I came to apologize." What? You bristle; if he means to apologize for touching you, well, he certainly did not wrong you by any means. "And to thank you. May I?" He motions past you and despite how much you absolutely should not be inviting Null Sector's leader into your quarters, you do so anyway.
Your room is hardly larger than a supply closet; it's positively cramped with both you and an R-7000 standing in the meager floor space. It makes his movements awkward, aware of his large, sharply pointed feet; even if your armored boots were still on, having him step on your toes would be unpleasant. Without, much worse. So, Ramattra gives you an easy solution: "Please, sit."
It doesn't help your pained neck at all, nor the growing sense of unease. Still, you perch yourself on the edge of your mattress and watch as he adjusts his cowl. "What did you need to apologize for?"
"First, I wanted to thank you for assisting me. I should have seen the sniper, or at least considered the probability, given the terrain." His voice box makes a spit of noise, not unlike clearing his throat. "I came to apologize for... scaring you, when you pulled me from the sniper's view. It was unintentional."
Scared? You can't resist a barking laugh, "That's all? I knew I was risking dropping a big heap of omnic on me. I mean, I'm really glad you were quick enough to catch yourself and all, but really, there's nothing to apologize for, you didn't hurt me."
He waits a beat, considering his words carefully. "You seemed particularly stunned afterwards."
Ah. He noticed. Your cheeks burn. "I guess. You did too, though."
"I had just been shot at and had to trust that a human had my best interest in mind." He tips his head, "If you did not fear being injured, then why?"
"Um," You rub at your neck, chase your thoughts for any acceptable response. "I was- just surprised. You were... very close."
His response is quick as he leans in towards you. “And you were not afraid?”
What is that inflection in his voice? Did he want you to be? You stare at him, try desperately to read his immovable faceplate. You bite your lip- and unbeknownst to you, Ramattra's optics tick downwards to watch. "No, I wasn't."
You must've picked right, because his voice box hums a little noise of acknowledgement, a light nod following. "I see." He murmurs, then abruptly straightens up again. "Regardless, I came to give my gratitude and offer repayment." You would tell him that it's literally your job, that you'd hope he would've done the same for you, but once more Ramattra's head tips, then nods just off to your right. "Is your armor ill-fitting?"
You blink, then look- and find yourself rubbing at your neck once more. "Oh! I mean, kind of; all Talon armor is pre-made. Mostly I'm just a bit sore."
"May I?"
He steps forward without waiting for your answer, but doesn't actually touch you. Once again, you're very close to him. This time, he's standing, towering over you with his full height from where you sit. He's offering, your mind stumbles over it, replays his touch to your hip. "Um, s-sure."
He already knows where the release to your armor is; his large fingers pressing into the divot before you can even begin to direct him. "Oh," you slip out, then awkwardly shake off each half, shoving them off the edge of the bed. His hands move towards your shoulders- and hesitate. He'd been quick to step closer, to dig into the protective paneling, but the actual prospect of touching you, even through the thin material of your undershirt, must make him pause. It's short lived- and his hands are cold enough you can feel it through the cloth.
You suppress a jolt at his temperature- but then he squeezes and all rational thought is expelled from your mind. The aching muscles of your shoulders have no choice but to surrender to his unflinching, metal kneads. It takes everything, everything that you have to not moan- and still he manages to pull a stifled inhale from you.
At once his fingers freeze, “Do you need me to stop?”
”No.” It’s all whine, a desperate plea to chase that same mind-melting touch. So, he continues on. Cool, smooth fingers pressing into taut muscle, loosening up knots with surgical precision. And when he adjusts his angle, steps a little closer and digs in again, you do let yourself moan.
He doesn’t stop- but you feel the tremble in his hands and his fans kick up their speed, humming louder in the relative quiet of your room. He adjusts again, moves to the outer parts of your upper arms- and when he squeezes there the sharp, near painful relief shoots all the way down to your fingertips. Your eyes are all but rolling in their sockets, it's all too easy to let your lids drop, your whole body swaying with each movement of his hands.
He presses into your upper back, in the tight space between shoulder blade and spine- and you don't resist the urge to lean forward. You aren't sure where exactly your forehead lands, but his metal is pleasantly cool. The vibration from his ventilation hums directly into your skull. It's soothing white noise- and you want more. Slowly, enough to make sure he can see you moving, you raise each hand and place them on the outer edge of his thighs. There, the refreshing touch of his metal is covered by dark-colored canvas, but the cloth does little to mute the hum of his inner machinery.
It makes your hands tingle- and it makes his vents crank open another notch. Beneath your forehead, his surface chills even more as coolant rushes through his systems.
The question of why rolls over your head, though the clarity of thought comes and goes with Ramattra's touch. It could be just some kind of curiosity or ultimately innocent fascination with the physicality of human flesh- something you doubt he's had much chance to experience outside of combat- but if he were not an omnic, the implication of his tentative exploration feels... obvious.
On one hand, Null Sector's leader was rarely around your base, the shame and embarrassment of being wrong about his intentions would only occasionally be relevant, but on the other...
You swallow and roll the dice. Your hands trace higher on his legs, over the straps there until you reach metal again. He all but trembles, deeply unused to soft human caresses- even more so to the seldom-touched ridges of his hips' plating. "Do you..." Your confidence slips- but Ramattra stares down at you so attentively, you can't help but continue, just to know "Would you prefer… more?"
His hands twitch against you. "If you are willing," He says it so slowly, so intentionally, he's talking to himself as much as to you. "I will take anything you would give."
Your shuddering inhale must please him, because he nearly purrs as he trails the tips of his fingers across your shoulder blades. Fuck. It’s hardly a question of what you would give, of if you are willing. You let go of him just long enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off.
For a moment, your world is entirely black- and when you can see him again, half-bared to him, you're already shivering.
It's unfair to call it staring when omnics don't typically blink, but Ramattra's faceplate tips downward and doesn't lift- even as you scoot back on your flimsy mattress until you reach the headboard. Only then does he meet your gaze again. You can't see his optics, shadowed entirely by his stark white faceplate, but there's a heat about him, all his focus settled on you- and your heart races. He sees this, too, on his HUD- the spike in your pulse, in your breathing.
Ramattra waits only a moment, shamefully double-saving this moment to his memory files, then follows. Immediately one of his heavy, metal knees makes the hinges of the frame creak in protest. His attention snaps to one corner- almost furious for having interrupted his pursuit. It would be your luck to have your bed broken by an omnic war machine before you could even fuck him. But Ramattra slowly eases his full weight onto the frame- and despite the pitiful whining of your cheap frame, it holds up.
Which is good, because Ramattra wastes no time to lean over you- the staggering height difference between you barely mitigated by his new position with his knees on either side of your legs. Your heart is racing, pulse thrumming all the way down to your fingertips- and he hasn't even really touched you- but he's eager to correct that.
He reaches for you- and there's a breath of hang time. An infinite little moment between his rubber-padded palm touching your neck, a perfect little bookend to all that was before. Because cool metal circles the base of your throat- thumb and forefinger rubbing over the ridges of your collarbones and sliding on- until his palm presses to the center of your chest- and it's unlike anything you expected.
His touch is exploratory, cautious, gentle as his hand slides up your neck, away from where you had really wanted him to touch. Instead, the rounded tips of his fingers trace parallel lines up each side of your throat. He stops just below your jaw, where your pulse beats hard against the skin. Somehow, there's no threat to it- a Ravager is holding your carotid, your jugular- and you don't even want to run. No, he's turned the tables on you- you want more.
It's difficult to be patient with his exploration, but his fascination here must be sated, because Ramattra's head tips- and his other hand presses to your chest. It's still painfully chaste; he's much too high, fingertips caressing your collarbone. He shifts, presses the heel of his palm into your pec- and, oh, you're melting into him again, because you didn't even realize that, too, was sore. As much as you wish he'd do what you're thinking about, his massaging touch is far from unacceptable.
Instead, you let your eyelids drift close, rest your chin upon the hand still at your throat.
Ramattra hums at this, one thumb stroking over your jaw in a motion so affectionate it makes your heart hurt. His fingers linger there, at the edges of your face- while his other hand finally begins to move. The rubber grip of his palm slides over the top of your breast, but his wrist turns, skirts along the side. He presses there a little, feels the weight of your chest in his palm. Already your skin is lighting up, goosebumps racing along your arms- and Ramattra shifts his hand again.
One breast entirely in his hand, his metal still shockingly cold to the underside- and yet somehow, your nipple stands free between his thumb and forefinger. He's avoided it entirely so far- but between the chill of him and the tension rushing in your veins, it's hardened into a little point. He squeezes your chest and you don't stifle your sigh.
He watches his own hand as he slowly sweeps his thumb across the stiff peak of your nipple- how it bends under his touch- and with a gasp, it pops back up. At your whimper he looks back up to your face and does the same motion again, just to soak in your reaction. The weight of his gaze is not lost on you- every sensor in his array is focused on your body, your face, the little hitches in your breath as he drags his thumb in a circle instead.
Your response must be fascinating enough, because the hand at your throat finally travels downwards, mirroring the other. Just having both hands on you makes your heart race, but now you're all but trembling when he hasn't even used the other yet. You expect more slow sweeps. You do not expect him to pinch- your sensitive flesh caught between cold metal plates- and then to tug on them.
You squeal, arch into his hands- half to alleviate the ache he's produced, and half because it felt good. He only half lets up. "Is that too much?" His voice box is so quiet you nearly don't hear him.
"No," You can only gasp- and with his confidence assured, you break off into a whimper as he tweaks your nipples. It's strange- his hands have no give, no softness to them, each motion is only relentless pressure and the hard edges of each joint. It makes every touch more acute, harsher even with his slow, cautious approach.
"They're softer than I expected," He says- and he sounds so cool, almost unaffected by how he's already making you unravel. "And more sensitive."
Oh. Something falls into place. It's not just you. "Have you ever... done this before?"
"Not with a human." Another sweep of his thumb has you shuddering. His grasp loosens, your skin tingling as blood returns to where he'd held it.
His curiosity here must've been satisfied, as his hands slide off to your sides. With only the tips of his fingers skating over your skin so lightly, you squirm under him- and grab his forearms. He stills, glances up to you- "Ticklish," You explain, then press on his hands until his whole palm meets your skin. "Firmer."
Ramattra hums, nods once in acknowledgement. He doesn't have to be corrected twice; his study of your body continues with more pressure. "And you?" Methodical presses over each notch of your ribs, tracing along the lines of each- pressing into the unprotected flesh below them, feeling over the soft pouch of your stomach. No longer feather-light, now it's almost clinical, and you wonder if he's comparing your body to schematics in his head. It isn't until he pauses, squeezes at your hip- a mimic of the same touch from earlier- for you to realize he'd spoken to you.
Have you done this before? The answer is, truthfully, not in a while, never with someone who made your skin feel so electric. You lick your lips and guardedly answer, "Not with an omnic."
He seems to accept this- and to keep him from questioning further, you move to unlatch your right greave. Your bed frame complains once more as he scoots back- and then begins working on your left leg. When you're once more down to your under armor, he stops, half sits back onto his heels. The glow of his optics is hidden, but you have no doubt he's watching you intently, waiting for something. If he expects you to wilt and change your mind, you hope instead he's pleasantly surprised that you hook your thumbs into the soft elastic around your waist and roll off both your pants and underwear.
You're suddenly aware you don't know where to put your legs- sliding them back under him would be counterproductive. So, you be just a little bold, and let them lay half-open across his canvas-covered thighs. Ramattra shudders. A visible quake up his spine, ends in little twitches of his fingers. Fingers that immediately press to your skin, two at first, just above your knees, then the whole width of his palm is smoothing up your thighs.
Higher and higher up your leg, his thumbs skating along the ridge of the muscle at the top of your thigh, never dipping in too close. Even as he approaches your waist, so tantalizingly close to your apex, his hands slide out, over the curve of your hips. You whimper, voicing your displeasure at his continued teasing. Ramattra answers only with a soft humming and those same thumbs pressing in to find the divots of your hip bones.
As attentive as his touch is, it's not helping the ache in your belly. Under him you squirm, press your thighs together to sate your growing need.
This, too, does not go unnoticed. "Patience," He chides and slides his palms from your hips back up to your sides. "We could not linger earlier; I intend to take my time now."
Oh. It doesn't stop you from squeezing your thighs again, but you do resign yourself to his pace. Again he passes over your navel before traveling down; this time there's no more cloth to impede his exploration. His thumbs follow the curve of your pubic bone, coming so very close- before returning to the safety following the long muscles of your quadriceps. With a cant of his head, he's particularly fascinated by this part of you, following the imprints of his fingers as he strokes down your legs.
Once he reaches your knees, Ramattra slyly slides his thumbs inwards, between your tightly pressed thighs. This alone has you shivering, aching to think of another round of his slow mapping of your body- but the soft press of his hands against your legs, urging them outward has every thought fleeing your mind. Shame drives you to press one hand over your face, but offers no resistance to him opening your legs once more. This time, his route from your knees to your hips is no longer exploratory- it's measured. His pace is slow, agonizing- barely inching along your skin, sweeping his thumbs, pressing in when you get too excited; it's an intentional lesson in patience that borders on torture.
And finally- finally- he doesn't turn his touch away. Ramattra's gaze is fixed between your legs, watched as he finally touches you. He traces the sensitive, thin crease of your thigh first- the last line between pretendably-chaste exploration and something else.
And he charges right past that line.
Without any warning, he drags one fingertip right down the center of your pussy. You gasp- and he's skating over your clit, parting your lips, almost dipping into you- before pulling back. With so much teasing, one stroke alone has your body thrumming, heat spreading from your belly. Above you, Ramattra hums- and spreads your lips with his free hand.
The embarrassment of his hawkish observation of your sex doesn't have long to set in, because once more his fingers return to you. Two this time, swirling at your entrance to coat his cool metal in your wetness, before sliding upwards. When he circles your aching clit, you don't even try to stop the moan that escapes from deep within.
Behind his white faceplate, his optics snap upwards and watch your reaction. He's used to seeing humans' heart rates spike when he touched them, but never with such a sound accompanying it. It's... different. Another stroke over the nub, another noise from your lips confirms what he'd already suspected: he likes it. He wants to hear more.
It's just like with your chest. He's all hard metal, no squishing softness of skin and muscle and fat- wherever his fingers move, your body has no choice but to follow, to fold under the hardness of his form. Each leisurely swirl pushes at you more than rubs, compresses and bends your most sensitive skin in incessant, cruel rounds and it's like nothing else you've ever felt. And it's too much, all too quickly you're squirming away from his hand, desperate for a break from the onslaught.
He notices. Ramattra can't not notice when your languid moans warp into sharp whines, when your hips that were grinding impatiently against his fingers, instead begin arching away from his touch. He pulls away, ceases the minuscule contact- and immediately your body relaxes, hips raising up towards him again. Was he being too rough? He recalibrates, actuators hardly moving at all when he meets the pulsing nub at the apex of your sex- and once more you're dancing backwards, face pinching. Yet as soon as he withdraws, another neglected, aching noise from your lips makes his frame shudder.
He almost scoffs; what a terribly human reaction- to flinch from his touch, then crave it as soon as he stops. He doesn’t understand why you’re doing this, but he can at least guess you’re not in any position to explain it to him.
Instead his touch wanders away, down along the creases of your body. A curiosity leads his fingers towards your opening and the wetness that has accumulated there. He traces the taut skin before him- and your heart hammers in your chest. He's so close, so close to being inside you. Your body burns under him, begs silently with every breath. With hardly any effort, his fingertips are coated in clear slickness once more- two shining strings between his digits as he examines them.
"Are most humans this... well-lubricated?"
"No," It comes out broken, your psyche unable to take any more of this- and your tone makes his faceplate lift. The slits of his optics are black, but you stare into them anyway and sob, "Please."
All five of his fingers dig into your thigh, a full-body shudder following your plea. Ah, now he understands. He leans forward, repositions himself over you, his massive frame entirely covering yours, but not quite touching. The heavy weight of his forearm lands next to your head as he murmurs- softer than you've ever heard his vocoder go- "Of course."
And he slides one finger into you.
You don't make a sound- your mouth falls open in mute relief- not even pleasure yet, just succor to your unrelenting need. Ramattra, however, stutters through a moan- the hand at your head curls into a fist, shaking with focus. Your body instinctively clenches around him, pulsing against the hard metal of his digit. As distracted as he is with your wet heat, he wastes no time in circulating the finger inside you- pressing against each wall, feeling the softness that surrounds every sensor, that ripples with each movement.
The first withdrawal is agonizing, the slow pull away, the half-second that you're nearly empty is unspeakable, an awful torment after finally knowing the shape of him. "I have you." He hushes before you can even whine. And he fulfills the promise, easing his finger back in. This time, you sigh- light and airy, lost under the sound of Ramattra's own ventilation.
Your body slowly releases its harsh grasp, relaxing into his slow, careful pace- sliding easily with every stroke, the soft noise of your slickness making your face burn. As the harsh peak of your need mellows into Ramattra's pleasurable touch, you're once more met with the impassive mask of his stark white faceplate. He's so close, you think you should be able to see his optics behind the faceplate- you want to see them- but he's blocking the only light in the room, casting his entire face in shadow, save for the mild, red lighting from the LEDs around his head.
He's gorgeous up close; all sleek lines and crisp enamel. Here and there are tiny nicks on his plating, like scars marking his body. Where you pant against him, his metal fogs- can he feel that? He's too far- and you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer.
You didn't realize how worked up he already was. Even to your fevered skin, Ramattra is warm, streams of hot air escaping past your forearms. He is actually enjoying this. The realization makes your pussy tighten around him once more- and in turn he curls the finger inside you.
You buck against him, the rush of pleasure driving any reservations from your mind as you thread one hand into the thick, black cables of his mane and lick at the pistons of his neck. The effect is immediate- his head drops down beside you entirely, bringing his shoulder even close to your mouth. Near your ear, Ramattra's voicebox rumbles, somewhere between a purr and a growl- the intent lost beneath a wave of static. And not to be outdone, he slips a second wide finger inside you.
The stretch pulls a moan from your lips, made louder by reverberating off Ramattra's shoulder plates. Two of his fingers already makes you feel pleasantly full, a respectable length and girth to them made even better with his attentive exploration of the hidden parts of your cunt- very aware of how every curl of his fingers makes your body sing for him.
And it does sing. Inside you, Ramattra gently spreads his fingers, urging your body to stretch even more, pressing ever harder into the soft flesh of your pussy- and you're helpless as you writhe beneath him. You don't even do it intentionally- raising one leg to press harder against his chassis. Perhaps, if his voice box was not right next to your ear, you'd have missed the spit of static that follows.
But you don't miss it. As lust-hazed as your mind is, all you can truly think about is how unfair it is that he's shown you so little. The hand not tangled into his wire-hair slides down his back, skirts around hot air vents, and dips between each silvery rib. The touch makes him shudder- a minute shaking of his rig that you wouldn't have even felt if he weren't fully pressed to your sternum. You linger at the thin hourglass of his waist, squeezing the thick, black cabling there appreciatively-- and first, Ramattra's hips faulter, a burst of erroneous data coming from the wiring you'd handled, then Ramattra groans, loud and almost droning as his stuttering hips meet the soft skin of your thigh. The shape of his lower plating means really only the top ridge is digging into you, but any discomfort is more than outweighed by his fans kicking up again.
You're ready for him- grabbing the last silver bar over his hip and guiding him closer. He doesn't resist at all. Without a single word, he follows, allows you to match the pace of his own fingers to have him rut against you in perfect time. He's almost fucking you; the proximity of him, the shape of his fingers- and suddenly you need it. To know what he looks like, feels like-- if he has one at all (though you hope he does, please, please-)
Ramattra pauses his thus far near perfect fingering- and you almost sigh with relief- he must have the same idea. Instead, he shifts his wrist- and the pad at the base of his thumb meets your clit. It's a pleasant shock- and when his fingers resume their thrusting, rhythmic pulling against you, you understand what he's done. Every tiny twitch of your hips makes your clit rub against his palm, and with his merciless knowledge of how to make you squirm, it's all he needs to make you gasp and clutch at him tighter.
All at once you're close, hardly more than a passenger to your own undoing. Each curl of his fingers is targeted, a planned attack on the sensitive innermost parts of your body- and with the uncommanded ruts of your hips, he's making you just as complicit in the rising fever of your need, using your own reactions against you- His plating meets your thigh again- and something like a moan spits from his voice box, a choked, half-buzzing noise that has you gasping, aching-
The noise you make is hardly human, barely recognizable as speech. "Wait," And yet the effect is immediate, before you can even croak out a clearer "Wait," he's already stopped, every joint locking up save for the turn of his head- and the lights on his faceplate burn bright, an unspoken question waiting there. He waits, silent, as you shiver and breathe, letting the hard edge of your desire die down before you can find any intelligible words, separated by harsh pants. "Can you?” Less intelligible than you had hoped. “Can you… fuck me?”
The lights on his forehead actually flicker, blinking asymmetrically as soon as the words leave your lips. His systems are in disarray, faulting, replaying your request until Ramattra has to halt the processes manually. It takes him much too long to croak out a barely understandable, static-fuzzed "Yes."
The withdrawal of his fingers from your pussy is agonizing, the last ring of muscle inside you desperately clenching against their retreat. The iron will it takes to keep your noises inside is physically painful, but somehow you think if you were to moan and plead that he let you cum now, he might actually short out. As it is, Ramattra is barely keeping it together. His hand is actually shaking as he releases the shiny plate over his groin, the soft hiss of pneumatics accompanying the distorted sigh from his vocoder. His dark paneling joins your armor on the floor and-
oh.
The first thing you notice is the lights. It's mostly thick, translucent purple silicone wrapped around a suspended mesh sensor array with red inlaid LEDs dotted under the surface that are nearly maroon through the pigment. The second thing is that it's massive. As big as his frame is, his cock is somehow bigger than you expect. It’s not quite the same shape as a human cock; the first rounded ridge is almost right, if only for the fact that it entirely circles the length. Behind it, two more ridges sit further down the shaft.
You can't help but reach for it. The groan that rumbles from his synth is just icing on the cake. "How...?" Fuck, you can't even close your hand around it, thumb and middle finger easily a full inch apart.
"I made it." He admits with a sigh. The tug of your skin on the dry silicone is awkward, but Ramattra shudders and rocks into your touch all the same. Until he seemingly remembers he was knuckle deep in you for several minutes- and shoos your hand aside just long enough to wipe your own fluids on himself. Purple with little red lights and glistening with your arousal- it's nearly enough to make you moan at the sight alone. It is enough when you stroke him again- and this time your hand glides over his smooth surface with ease. Ramattra feels the difference too, his head dropping forward as a plume of steam escapes from a hidden vent.
"Please," You can barely make yourself let go of him. He follows your hand as it falls between your legs, slips through your wetness in desperation to ease your need. "Ramattra..."
"It was," His voice box pops. A harsh little noise, then silence as it frantically reboots. When he speaks again, it's clearer- and there's something in his tone you don't recognize. "... not made for human dimensions."
"I don't care." You whine, grasping at his side once again. But he remains unmoved, his hands planted firmly on his knees, faceplate trained on you. His hesitance draws you out of your haze of lust, higher thinking forcing its way through your mind. Concern- it was concern in his voice. Ah. "If it's too much, I'll tell you. We can-" You swallow, and consider the possibilities that follow, "we can try something else."
And when this doesn't quite sway him, frustration takes control again. With a pitiful whine you present yourself to him again, a meager "Please, I need you." your final offering.
The actuators in his hands whine. A pressure warning pops into his HUD and is dismissed before he can even process it. "Yes." He rasps- it's agonizing how slowly he crawls over you, but the joy that he's moving at all is all you can really think about. "If you require me to stop, inform me immediately." You nod vigorously, almost missing how his voice drops, "I did not come here to harm you."
There's no time to consider the tenderness that laces his vocals, because he slides the head of his cock between your lips once, twice. The motion alone has your hands grabbing at him- and your breath all together stops as he begins to push.
He's big. Even with his mind-melting fingering, it stings as he slowly breeches you. His force is slow and even, but merciless. He does not pause at all as the widest part of his cock stretches you open, makes your face pinch together, thighs locking around Ramattra's thin waist. There's a high pitched little noise somewhere- and you can’t tell if it’s coming from you or Ramattra. As uncomfortable as it is for you, it must be heavenly for him. And yet he continues on- not a single stutter to his patient approach.
Relief washes over you when his hard hips meet yours- and above you Ramattra sighs. You're so full. All the way behind your navel- if pressed below your belly, you'd be able to feel him inside you-- if you could let go of him long enough to try. And it's tight- and truly you could redefine the word, with how harshly your walls cling to him, how you can feel every ridge, where every light is, just because it has slightly less give.
"You are..." He begins, vocalizer rumbling close to your ear. Simultaneously, you shift your hips, trying to ease the pressure that fills you up. Even such little motion cuts him off, makes him press his cool faceplate against your shoulder. His voice cuts through with another tone, like a radio station going out. "Sublime." One large hand lands at your hip, holds you close as he rocks against you. Fully buried as he is, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, digging your fingers into the gaps between his ribs. "It's like a current." He murmurs, almost in disbelief.
His comment is so strange, so stunned at your pussy, it pulls a delighted laugh from you despite how it makes you ache again. You move one hand from his back- and your knuckles hurt for how hard you'd been gripping him- to slide into the cables of his mane again. Ramattra purrs approvingly, a rumble that fills his entire body, permeates into you at every point of contact. He rocks with you again, and as much as you need him to stop moving, if he actually stilled you might just combust.
It hardly takes more than your hand moving to his hip and guiding him into a real stroke- even if you have to grit your teeth and hiss at his half withdrawal. The sound makes him lift his head, turn the dark slits of his optics towards you. He watches as you nod and urge him on with your calves on his thighs. He's slow, keeps that same agonizing pace- easing back into you with as much caution as the first time.
With the stretch already easing, the balance of discomfort to pleasure shifts- and you're closing your eyes, letting the ripple of electricity coast through you with each little motion he makes. Now, it's your turn to sigh, that fullness returning to you- pressed up against the deepest parts of you. When he lowers his head again, his faceplate is not buried into your shoulder this time. No, his LEDs are warm against your forehead, strange with the cool metal between each light. This close, you can hear the soft whirrs of his optics moving and re-focusing. Your breath fogs the white ceramic of his faceplate. If he minds, he doesn't say anything.
He keeps the rhythm on his own now, slow and even until he's sliding freely inside you without any hint of resistance, until you're needing. Words escape you as you clutch at him, press your forehead harder to his, whine with each glacial motion. He hums again, shifts his weight onto one arm- so careful to not break the intimate little connection he'd forged- to hold your hip with one hand. You can't see his optics through the narrow slits, but every sensor is centered on you as he so carefully moves quicker.
"Is this alright?" His voice hardly makes it out of his synth, so low and quiet- and so easily drowned out with your moaning. He’s still so gentle, even with his endeavor to please you in faster strokes, they’re each guarded, measured with careful calculations. There’s no force to them at all.
You can't seem to figure out where you want to hold him; both your hands bury into his cabled hair and stroke there, twist until a stunned little noise breaks free of his vocoder, then releases, fan down until you can hold at his shoulders, at the long pistons that would be collarbones. It isn't enough. Your hands skitter onward, over his arms, his sides, over and between the broad silver struts, in the black recesses between and back up. It takes everything to twist your hands into his cowl and beg. "More, please," Your lips brush his face, "Harder."
Ramattra's entire frame shudders, the hand at your hip pulling you ever closer, once more burying himself to the hilt. "Your…" He rasps, still shaking. "Penchant towards self-destruction is… astounding."
Where he had previously chided you with patience, it seems he has all but run out. The need is taking over him as well, because he doesn't even try to dissuade you at all as he completely moves himself. No longer laid nearly on top of you, his large form stretches over you like a breathing metal canopy, bracing himself with one hand on the wall. He keeps the other hand on your hips- and his next thrust brings stars to the backs of your eyelids. All metal, no give; his hips meet yours with a new vigor. But even more, his altered angle forces one light node up against your front wall. He doesn't even have time to ask if it's good before you're gabbing at his smooth forearm, twisting one hand into your sheets. His name slips from your mouth in a plea, but you can't even understand what you're asking for. "Ramattra,"
Above you Ramattra purrs, the pleased little hum from his vocalizer vibrating out into your room. Beneath you, your bed creaks pathetically- above you, the clasps at the end of his hair-cables clack together, announcing his pace to your neighbors- and you don't care. All you can focus on is the rhythm of his body against yours, the staticy noises that slip from his vocalizer unbidden, where the pad of his palm has caught your skin, holding you exactly where he wants you. And where he wants you has your toes curling, your eyes fighting to stay open. Heat coils in your belly, and it's still not enough.
"More, more," You pant- pulling at his hips with your calves. The sore reality of getting fucked hard by a Ravager is completely gone from your mind- tomorrow's pain has nothing on the haze of desire that leaves you with only harder, deeper, more.
Whatever reply Ramattra has is lost, the noise from his synth a harsh tone that sounds more like a modem than speech. He complies immediately, his next thrust pushing you further up the bed, pressing hard enough against your cervix to make you gasp. The sheets aren't enough, you need to feel more of him- so you grab at his hand again, at his chest, where he's become positively warm. "Fuck, fuck, Rama-ah- I-" Every word broken by a snap of his hips, by the little eek, eek, eek of your mattress frame. Each thrust has your eyes rolling, panting, keening little noises because you can't stop them- and the coil is so close, so tightly wound-
and somewhere, you hear a coin dink onto the floor, hear it spin on the floor. It's so odd you can't make sense of it- can’t give it more than half a thought because you’re so close all you can focus on is the boiling desire that’s taken over your blood- until Ramattra's hips meet yours again.
And for a half-moment you're in free fall, weightless. For one heartbeat, Ramattra is moving away from you- or, no, you’re somehow moving away from him.
You stare, wide-eyed at the dark slits of Ramattra's optics- until one metal hand slips under your shoulders, faster than you can think. He catches you, but not before you’re almost inverted.
A glance up tells you exactly what you expect: the front half of your frame has collapsed, the legs have fallen flat against the floor. Fuck. It doesn't matter; that need has not been sated in the least. You shift your hips against his, shake his hand off you, and brace one arm between your head and the wall. "Don't care."
If he's planning on hesitating, you don't give him a chance. With a grab at the hand still at your waist, you clench around his cock. A real, true moan rips from his vocalizer and all caution is thrown to the wind. He holds your ass up off the slanted mattress with one hand, keeps you so perfectly stabilized as he ruts into you. Any semblance of order or careful intent is lost; the instinctual chase of pleasure has taken both of you. All you can do is lock your legs behind his thin waist and ride out each thrust, rising to meet him where you can. So hard and quick you can barely keep up with his pace, leaving you squirming beneath him, twisting your fingers into your hair as the heat rises again.
Your mind narrows down to a point, "Please, please- don't stop, fuck- Ramattra-"
Another groan from his throat and he grabs your waist with both hands. No longer just thrusting- he's all but pulling you up off the floor, spearing you onto himself over and over. He uses you like an oversized toy, fucking into you with abandon. And you hadn't even realized just how large his hands were. His thumb reaches right across your thigh, parts your lips to press against your clit. He strokes in time with his hips- and you're gone.
With him supporting most of your weight, you arch into the air- and clench down on him hard. Something in his throat pops before a groan cuts in. He doesn't stop moving, even as your walls flutter around him, as your voice goes hoarse. One hand leaves your hips- and something flutters down across one shoulder. You fight against the waves of ecstasy- each crashing over you, drowning out your senses in liquid pleasure- just enough to crack your eyes open as he peaks.
His body freezes, joints twitching out of sync, fragments of uncommanded movements while his voice breaks, a harsh tone pouring out before it clicks off entirely. You squeeze around him again- launching another wave for yourself- and above you, Ramattra's lights flicker, twinkle like stars- and then turn off. Offlined. Good. You join him shortly, closing your eyes and surrendering to the pleasant warmth that surrounds you.
When you wake again, you're right-side up. It takes a series of barely-coordinated blinks to clear your vision. It's somehow more disorienting than having been nearly upside-down to begin with. More so, you're not in your bed. No, you're wrapped up in your sheets, but you're firmly in Ramattra's lap- who has ended up sitting cross-legged next to the remains of your bed frame. It's... surprisingly cozy. The sheets soften up the hardest angles of his body and keep you warm while his frame regulates itself back to its usual cool temperatures.
"My apologies," He says in lieu of greeting. "It seemed impertinent to leave you... there."
From the forty-five degree angle of your mattress and how it's squished up against the wall. A white dust has spilled over your pillows- and it takes you much too long to piece together the Ramattra-fist-sized hole in your drywall. A tentative touch to your hair confirms flecks of paint and plaster. Yeah. You could imagine you probably didn't look very comfortable.
"Thanks," is what you try to say, but it comes out a rough rasp. You swallow several times to ease the dryness in your throat, but Ramattra seems to hum in appreciation. In all fairness, you had been all but screaming his name. A noble way to lose your voice. "Thanks," and this time, it sounds human enough.
"And I am sorry for damaging your quarters." He modulated a noise not unlike clearing his throat. "I may have gotten carried away."
You can only grin and slur your words. "S'okay, it's all cheap 'n Talon maintenance is fast." Honestly, it’s a compliment. Maybe a little inconvenient, but hey. Who else can say they made the leader of Null Sector cum so hard he dug his fingers into your literal wall and shut down? You shift in his lap, lay your head more comfortably against his shoulder. When you settle, he holds you closer. "Benefits of no questions asked type of work." Once more his only reply is a quiet hum of acknowledgement. It's an easy silence- save for the quiet whirr of Ramattra's fans, which have returned to their normal pace. Only when you absolutely need to know do you risk asking, "Can you stay? For a bit longer?"
He pauses, considers the question. He shouldn’t, truthfully. This excursion has already gone well past what he had planned for. But there’s something nagging at his logic circuits, the same little impulse that had made him fall at your command. It had saved his life before- and gotten him here. When has he ever been able to deny himself his curiosities?
"Yes. I have time." He says and pulls you closer to him still, until he can feel every rise and fall of your chest, despite the blanket between your bodies. Internally, he sends a message that he'll be unavailable for a debrief with Akande.
This time, it's you that hums as you bury your face into the pistons of his neck and close your eyes.
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Sequel
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