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nichuuu · 7 months

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Beats Me - 6: Come As You Are

Word count: 8k+

Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

---------

A call from Kim Minju at this hour is never good news.

To give context: It’s one in the morning on a Saturday. Office workers and the youth above the legal age for drinking are patronising drinking spots, throwing back a couple of beers and basking in the euphoria that alcohol brings them. Perhaps they're using alcohol to cope with the stress of their lives, or maybe they're trying to numb the pain of recent difficult experiences. In both cases, emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through their systems, memories are resurfacing, and maybe, just maybe, tears are streaming down their cheeks—nothing too out of the ordinary. If you were to receive a call from anyone else at this hour, you would've thought it a request to be escorted back home, or a soused friend dialling in to say incomprehensible things before truncating the call.

But for more context: Kim Minju has been the bearer of bad news since highschool. If you are to combine this with the information above, you know that something has probably gone down, and you’re the only man she can trust to help them. She never calls you on a whim; every call from her is a desperate cry for help.

As you stare at her caller ID on your phone that vibrates on the table like it’s possessed, you start steeling yourself for what is to come. You’re hesitant to answer, but basic human decency gets the better of you. You can hear the deafening roar of club music in the background when you pick up, and Minju’s yelling into the phone. Even in the quiet of your apartment, you can’t make heads or tails of what she’s trying to convey to you. Even as you holler I can’t hear you at the top of your lungs, she continues to blabber her intelligible words over the pulsing bass of that horrible song that’s playing in the background.

Then it suddenly gets quiet on the other end, and for a moment, you only hear the sound of your heartbeat crunching in your ears. When Minju speaks again, you can hear the wind blowing by in the background, your indication that she’s exited the club. Her voice rings loud and clear in your apartment.

“Eunbi’s driving to your place, she’ll explain everything,” she’s telling you. “She’ll text when she arrives, get ready to be picked up.”

The urgency in her voice drives you to acquiescence, and you throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. Couple of minutes later, you’re seated in the front seat of your singer’s car. She’s running you down on the events that have occurred tonight, and the multiple mentions of Chaewon makes your heart sink further and further.

It was enough dealing with her in the band. That shrill frequency she could produce with that trumpet was often aptly used to deafen you whenever she could (she sat on your direct right so she could be a bitch with ease). The bowl she used to collect her saliva was often “accidentally” (the way she said that word with such bogus innocence really brought you to your boiling point sometimes) spilt on to the leg of your jeans when you walked by, her trumpet case “coincidentally” (again, bogus innocence with this one) be in the way of your shin as you tried to get to your kit. Her behaviour wasn’t the culprit behind your irritance towards her, rather the fact that her behaviour failed to reflect what she had requested for when the two of you schismed—a clean break.

“She’s thrown up twice now.” Eunbi’s tone is a mish-mash of frustration and commiseration, “She refuses to move, and she's been groped twice. We don’t mean to drag you into this, but you’re the last feasible option.”

There’s an odd feeling of nihility in your chest as the two of you come to a stop at a red light. In the band, you dealt with her on a physical level. But when Kim Chaewon and alcohol merge, you know that you’ll have to deal with her on an emotional level, and that somehow fails to engender any spite or frustration of the ilk. The silence that hangs in the car is unsettling in light of the confusing sensations you’re experiencing (and also due to the fact that usually chatty Eunbi is finding it hard to start a conversation in this atmosphere), yet you find that you’re poised.

“I’m uh… I’m actually your highschool senior,” Eunbi decides to input, “I used to go to the same school as you, Chaewon and Minju…”

You remain reticent. Eunbi takes the cue and returns her eyes to the road.

The bouncer almost didn’t let you in because of your shabby fit, but a quick wink and a, he’s with me, from Eunbi was enough to get him to let you through. You easily spot Minju amidst club-goers once you get in. Those long, luscious jet black locks that flow just past her shoulders and those large round eyes that always seem to be doleful quickly catch your attention as you wade through the sea of people together with Eunbi. She looks the same as she did all those years ago. She stands when you approach; Kim Chaewon’s slumped over the table they’re at.

“Thank god you’re here.” Her expression tells you that she’s been through quite the ordeal tonight. “I… I hope you understand that—”

She stops mid sentence when you hold up a hand. You understand that such a gesture is impertinent of you, but you can’t help it—there’s too much to process, too much to take in, and a club isn’t the best place to assimilate it all (or to find a lover, an ex lover in this case). Minju steps aside, and you take a moment to look at the sorry sight of your ex—face down on the table of the booth seat and an empty shot glass in hand.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask them. The two girls look at each other, then Minju tells you to do whatever it takes to get her out of here.

So there you are—contemplating on whether you should dump a bucket of ice on her or gently wake her up. Basic human decency gets the better of you, and you slide onto the couch next to Chaewon, gently tap the bare shoulder that’s exposed in her outfit. When she raises her head off the sticky, glossy table, you’re momentarily reminded of the countless times you’d woken her up in the same way when she fell asleep in the school library.

Then those eyes—half-lidded and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. The volume of her voice pales in comparison to the blaring House remix of the Barbie theme, yet when she calls your name, it’s the only thing you can hear. She shifts closer—close enough to rest her head on your shoulder, close enough for you to smell the vodka on her breath as she silently sobs against you; Don’t go, don’t leave, she slots in between those heart wrenching cries. Right now: emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through her system, memories are resurfacing, and tears are definitely streaming down their cheeks.

Eunbi and Minju look on in silence. Eunbi’s lips are pursed, Minju’s eyes are somehow more doleful. Their looks are doing nothing to assuage the turmoil that you’re feeling. You find yourself saying things that you were never prepared to say.

“She can stay at my place for the night… I doubt she’d want to go anywhere else.”

They look apprehensive, but deep down—they know you’re right.

***

“Uh… Are you sure you want to present this?”

Chaewon looks up from her presentation script to give a simple, “Hm?”. You were scratching your head as you read over the vivid description of Kurt Cobain's death that she’d included. It detailed the nature of his death, the brutal imagery of small, tiny shotgun pellets blowing a hole through the skull of Nirvana’s frontman on the night of his suicide described in an unnaturally calm tone, as if people shooting themselves through the head with a shotgun was an everday occurance.

“I mean…” You were doing your best to not sound reprehensive, “I don’t think Miss Kim would appreciate the… Visceral imagery.”

Her look was one of innocence as she asked, why not, and proceeded to further justify her vivid depiction (her argument was that Lee Chaeyeon had presented on Aviccii’s death in equal vividness and your teacher enjoyed it). The theme of the presentations for the week was “the talented die young”, and she’d decided to talk about one of her favourite bands at the time. She was blasting their hit song Smells Like Teen Spirit through the speaker in her room, and you were finding it hard to focus over all that grunge (you didn’t tell her of course, cause that would’ve made her pouty for the rest of the day).

That was one of your fondest memories from dating her. It showed you her tenacity and her stubbornness in insisting that she was correct. It showed you just how determined and strong-willed she could be. You found that you could still recall every detail of that moment as vividly as she described Cobain's death while you watched her walk around your kitchen from the doorway to your room. Her hair is in disarray, the set of clothes that you’d passed her baggy on her slender frame. For the record: She knows how she got here, she knows where she is, she knows you’re awake, and she knows that you’re watching her. In spite of all this, her movements are calm, her hand taking its time to trail across your cabinets as her eyes slowly soak in her surroundings.

“You know, for someone that said that they wanted a clean break—you’re making things messier than they should be,” you can’t help but tell her. Her hand stops on the handle of your cabinet, her index finger affixing itself there for a minute as she lowers her head. With a sigh, you stuff your hands into your pockets and tell her, “Get out once your hangover wears off.”

You retreat back into your room to get some work done. When you emerge around lunchtime, you find that she’s taken liberties in your kitchen, a piping hot bowl of noodles sitting opposite her at your dining table as she silently slurps on a bowl of her own. You stand there for a moment, then you accost the eating space and stop just before her.

“Are you being for real?” You can’t help but let the revulsion seep into your words, “You’re telling me that your hangover has lasted this long?”

She’s unwontedly silent. Her pugnacious, bratty nature seems to have dissipated into thin air, replaced by one of taciturn and timidness as she stares blankly into her noodles. She doesn’t look up when you sigh and slide into the other seat, nor does she say anything when you start digging into the noodles that she’s prepared for you (you aren’t one to pass up on a free meal, even if it’s prepared by your ex).

It’s when you're halfway through your bowl that she finally pipes up, “thank you for taking me in.”

You go still for a moment.

Then you choose not to reply to her.

After washing up, you communicate to her that she has till sundown to leave your abode before you head back to your room. You know that she’s going to stay like that stubborn patch of mould beneath the snare drum in the recording studio when you hear her playing Smells Like Teen Spirit on her phone through the door. Once again, that damn song is reminding you of how tenacious and stubborn she can be. Those two traits of hers were really double edged swords for that woman.

Night comes; she still hasn’t left. When you exit your room, you find that she’s asleep on the floor. It seems that she’s found it congenial to sleep on the carpeted surface, even though the futon that you provided her last night is literally an arms length away from her sleeping body. Seeing her that way, you’re momentarily reminded of the times she’d stay over at your place while you were dating, and she’d choose to nap on the floor while you worked—even though the bed was empty. The reasons as to why she chose to do so are still unknown to this day—one of the many unsolved mysteries in your relationship, second only to why she’s being the way she is despite what the two of you have previously agreed on.

To be absolutely clear: the two of you know why you broke up. It wasn’t a case of a one-sided sudden change of heart; there was a reason behind it that you both understood (even though you did need a lot of time to come to terms with it). Yes, it was painful. Yes, it was unexpected. Yes, you did miss her for quite some time. But there wasn’t much you could do about it. She’d set her mind on the breakup, and her stubbornness and tenacity had her on wits end when you tried to talk to her.

Was there a possibility the two of you could’ve stayed together? Your answer—yes. Her’s—only God knows what goes through that confusing brain.

Once more, basic human decency drives you to do things you don’t want to, and you end up cooking a share of fried rice for her. You lay her bowl next to her on the floor along with a spoon before seating yourself at the dining table to eat. You’re about halfway through a video essay about some game you’ll never play when she stirs from her slumber.

She spots the bowl, then her gaze wanders to you. Silently, she picks it up and rises to her feet. Now it’s her turn to accost the eating space, except she isn’t belligerent, nor can you sense any hostile intentions.

“Can I sit?” She’s oddly genteel as she points at the chair opposite you. You’ll just end up sitting even if I say no, is your reply. She allows a soft, short chuckle before she slides in. You think about turning off the video essay, but then you decide to not let basic human decency get the better of you this once.

So with some random guy’s voice filling the air, you and Chaewon partake in your meals in silence. You try not to look at her, but you can’t help but throw a few glances her way as she eats. She decided to grow out her hair over the past few weeks, dye it auburn, and now it drapes elegantly past her shoulders like silky curtains. You can’t read her expression (though you never could to begin with), and you certainly can’t understand why she’s become so quiet. She’s trying to make you lower your guard, soften you up then launch some manipulation tactic is what you’re considering. You won’t put it past her to use a facade of milquetoast nature to try and break past your boundaries.

“I’ll be out by tomorrow morning,” she suddenly tells you. That was the first time you tore your gaze away from your phone for more than five seconds. How would one normally reply to such a statement? Oh, okay, seems to be one of the better options, yet you choose to go with, “Good, cause I’m not planning to overstay your welcome.”

Chaewon plucks a rice grain off her top lip. “But you’d let Eunbi or Ryujin stay, right?”

There you were, hoping that she’d be as timid and quiet as she’d been for the rest of the day. The nap must have gotten rid of the rest of the hangover, cause you can hear the haughtiness in her voice.

“Are we really going to have this conversation?” you ask her. The firm look she fixes you with tells you, I’m gonna run my mouth on you whether you like it or not.

“And here I was thinking you’re being a decent human for once,” you can’t help but mutter. “You’re fucking confusing you know that?”

She bristles in her seat. “You watch your fucking mouth player.”

You’re not one to take offence from such comments. Normally, you’d understand that in the heat of the moment, people can say hurtful things that they don’t mean. It’s natural, completely natural—the adrenaline, the emotions, the tension… All of it can melt together in the form of nasty words that spew forth from a person’s mouth.

But when it comes from Kim Chaewon’s mouth however… You can’t seem to find that sympathy in you. She knows that you’ve slept with your singer and bassist, she knows that they’ve had you more than once—it’s right for her to feel this type of anger (even though the two of you aren’t even together anymore), yet there’s no part of you—not even a single atom—that wants to take the time to try to understand where she’s coming from and why she feels this way.

“Player?” You don’t mean to sound as pissed as you do. “Player?” you echo again, just for good measure, “What gives you the right to call me that? I’m not the one who couldn’t wait for their partner!”

“It was two years!” Chaewon cries.

“Well you could’ve at least tried.” You’re not even bothering to filter your words now. “You’re a hypocrite for calling me a player when you couldn’t even wait for me.”

“Two fucking years! Do you really expect me to close my heart to love for two whole years just so I can wait for you to get out of the damn military!” The way her tone conveys how right she thinks she is pisses you off, “I’m a human! I need love! Do you really expect me to wait for it for that long?”

She’s on her feet now, hands on your table, breaths heavy.

She screams, “It’s your fault for signing on so early! It’s your fault for ever thinking that I’d wait!”

You shoot up from your seat and cry, “Well then damn me for ever trying to believe in you!”

Her face contorts into a snarl. She skirts the table, accosts you with her arm whizzing through the air; she slaps you across the face. As the sting lingers on your cheek, you find your fingers curling into fists.

“You’re horrible!” She’s hollering at the top of her lungs, “I wish that I never met you!”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of her heavy breathing. Then those eyes—bulging in their sockets and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. She looks just as she did the night the two of you broke up: hair slightly messy, face twisted in a mix of woe and fury, right up in your face as her face starts to flush under the intense assault of emotions and thoughts. She’s close—close enough to grip you by your collar and pull you towards her, crush her lips against yours, kiss you like she did when you were teens.

And she does just that.

A soft cry slips past her lips, travels into your mouth as she kisses you; It feels exactly the same as it did all those years ago—the meraki, the slight tension in her upper lip, the light quiver in your bottom lip—a familiar comfort you had no idea you missed. Her small waist is captured in your grasp, your face in her hands as she pulls you deeper, kisses you harder. It was like she never left, like she never walked away from you because you had decided to enlist in compulsory military service early so that you could get it over and done with, like she never said, seeing you on the weekends isn't enough for me, I’m sorry. This won’t work out the way you think it will. Let’s just end things off here, nice and clean.

And get this: the whole moment is sweet and all, but deep down, there’s still a small flame of anger alit within you. Even though you kissed her back with equal vigour, you were silently cursing her for making things messier than it had to be; while your hands run through her hair, you find yourself berating her in your head for making you vacillate between missing her and hating her. You aren’t one to be flippant, but Chaewon had the tendency to bring out sides of you that you’ve never seen for yourself.

Her tongue dives into your mouth, her hand pressed flat against your chest. She’s tugging at the fabric of your shirt, and you’re not sure if she’s trying to pull you closer or signalling for you to take it off. You realise it’s the latter when she guides you hand beneath the fabric of the shirt you gave her, your fingertips grazing the soft skin beneath it. Your palm rests on the flesh of her waist. Her skin was warm to the touch.

Your mouths part, and you’re quick to ask, What the hell are we doing. She takes a second to catch her breath, then she replies, “I have no clue, but I’m not stopping whatever’s coming next.”

Going with the flow—that was so her.

You grasp onto the hem of her shirt and gently pull upwards. She’s quick to respond, raising her hands above her head for ease of removal. Then her hands are on your waist band, tugging down at your shorts while your hands skim across her bare skin. She pulls your underwear down together with your shorts, lets them fall and pool around your ankles; her hand is quick to grasp onto your throbbing shaft.

“Chae.” You can’t help but whisper your pet name for her. She starts placing kisses on your clothed chest, her other hand resting on your shoulder while the hand on your cock begins to stroke it with consideration. She leans in and whispers, “Can we pretend like we never left each other? Just for tonight?”

A foolhardy request. She doesn’t know what she’s doing by asking this of you, nor does she care to consider the possibility that the fulfilment of this request can and will invoke unwelcome emotions in both of you. Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

Her hand on your dick leaves to join and assist the other in undoing her bra. She lets the intimate garment fall to the floor before her, her bare breasts on full display. She’s certainly grown more voluptuous as compared to her eighteen-year-old self, and with that change you find an increase in desire for this woman before you. Chaewon cups her tits with her hands, lifts them up, then lets go; she’s putting on a sordid show.

“Christ.” Christians certainly wouldn’t approve your usage of the name of their saviour in this abhorrent, impure context. “You’ve… Grown.”

“Puberty works wonders, no?” She’s taken on a playful tone, one that she was always fond of using while the two of you were dating. “Feel them. I know you want to.”

No sane man would ever turn down such an invitation. You can feel her erect peaks poking against your palms as your fingers close around the mounds; your breath hitches when you realise how firm they’ve become. Her hands join yours on her breasts, aiding you and squeezing and kneading while she lets a sigh leave her lips. Then in a whisper, she tells you how much she’s missed this feeling—your hands caressing her just the way she likes, your breath in her ears as you silently play with her like you used to.

Then she asks you, “Do you ever think about me when you fuck those other girls?”

You consider your words carefully. If you’re to be perfectly honest, there were a few times where the sight of Ryujin’s rippling ass cheeks made you think about her; sometimes the way Eunbi moaned reminded you of her.

But if you’re supposed to pretend like you never left her, some teasing would have to come into play.

“Depends.” You’re not even trying to hide how smug you are, “In what way are we talking?”

She gives you a look, one that says, you cheeky little fucker, but she plays along of course, offering a soft, Hm, as she pretends to go pensive.

Let’s see—she speaks as she (much to your chagrin) practically rips your hands off her body, all so that she can start circling you—Do their moans sound as cute as mine? Are their bodies as tight as mine?

She leans in to pop the final question: Do their pussies feel as good as mine?

For the record: No to the first one, a fifty-fifty between yes and no on the second one (they all had amazing bodies). As for the last question, you couldn’t say (not because you didn’t have an answer, but more because ranking them in terms of how good they feel would be doing all of them an injustice).

Dunno, is the answer you offer her, then you follow up with, “Why don’t we find out?”

She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Segueing—impressive.”

“I’m a laconic man,” you tell her, and, Oh shut the hell up, is her reply as she takes you by the hand and drags you to your room.

It’s crazy to think that just mere minutes ago, she was on her feet, yelling at you and telling you how odious she finds you; now, she’s on her back, her head propped up against a pillow, still yelling, but she’s telling how good you’re making her feel—Fuck, and, Oh shit is all that’s really leaving her mouth, but the message is implicit—as your tongue applies painfully slow strokes to her soaking pink folds. The hand that slapped you is now scrunching up in your hair, the palm that made your cheek sting pushing your head against her crotch while her toes curl into your mattress. You’re wondering if she’s intentionally pitching up her voice as she moans, or if she’s purposely dragging out her sighs, but it doesn’t take away from the utter sublimity of the act.

Chaewon’s slick is sweet; it’s tangier than Eunbi’s and tickles your taste buds better than Ryujin’s—you won’t tell her this of course, but it’s not like you’ll have time to communicate all of this while your head being shoved into her pussy. Believe it or not—this is one of the calmer moments of pussy-eating that you’ve experienced, one of the rare occasions where you actually have time to savour the taste of your partner, assimilate the intimacy of it, a far cry from when you were with Eunbi or Ryujin, where the goal was always to make them cum as fast as possible because that’s what they’re craving for. But believe it or not—even though her needy actions make it seem as if she’s desperately chasing her high, Chaewon’s really just trying to make the most of each and every swipe of your tongue, enjoying the way it skirts her clit and laps up her juices that leak out from her pretty, pink folds; all while she’s squeezing her thighs around your ears and begging you, Oh god, put your fingers in me.

You start with your index finger, using the pad of it to trace the outline of her pussy. Then—just to make sure that she knows that it’s going in too—you let your middle finger join the fray. Your digits graze the skin around her flushed lips, taking their time to cover ground while Chaewon’s reduced to a moaning, mewling mess. What you’re really trying to do here is test the limits of her patience, see how much teasing that small, tight body can really take before her will breaks. It’s a sadistic game you’re playing, but you know that she’s enjoying it as much as you are, even though she is practically screaming at you to stick your digits inside her already.

If there’s anything that this world has taught you, it’s that patience is often rewarding. In this case: Chaewon’s patience was rewarded with the fulfilment of her request. The moan that leaves her half-parted lips is one of satisfaction as you dig your digits into her waiting depths, and they soak in her juices for a minute or two before they start to explore. Her nails dig into your scalp when your fingers dig into the soft flesh on the roof of her pussy. Your name flies out from her lips in a tone of surprise, like she’s taken aback by the fact you remember the exact spot inside her that makes her tick. The smugness on your face says it all, really, and you start to stimulate that spot of sensitive flesh.

“Oh… Oh my… Oh…” She’s barely able to form the simplest of words. The pleasure you’re providing is racing through her body, filling her from head to toe with perverse need and taking over her bodily functions. You’re not doing anything fancy down there; your fingers are just wiggling against the same spot—a simple action that makes her body react in all sorts of complicated ways: twisting, trembling, twitching… It’s working wonders really. You’re amazed that she’s still as sensitive as ever.

“Look at you Chae,” you can’t help but deride. “You’re getting so fucking turned by fingers. I don’t remember you being this needy.”

Even if she’s hellbent on retorting, there’s no space for words to leave her mouth—the moans are filling the space in her throat, bottlenecking and filtering out of her mouth in the form of strained cries. From the limited view between her thighs, you make out the image of her biting down on the nail of her index finger. Meanwhile, the nails in your head dig deeper into your scalp, hardly caring for the fact that they may be drawing blood as their owner manages to beg, Keep going.

Your mouth—now rested enough to continue—rejoins the busy scene; the drawn-out guttural gasp that slides out of her mouth tells you all you need to know—Oh my god. You’re driving me crazy—and you can’t help but smile at the sight of her pleasure stricken face. Chaewon’s barely keeping it together at this point, the dignity that tightly wraps her body is slowly loosening—unravelling at the mercy of your mouth and fingers. The haughtiness, the sheer brattiness—crumbling under the sensations that overwhelm every fibre of her body; now that these perverse thoughts have entered your mind, you find that a dark part of you longs to own her, right here, right now. But of course, patience is rewarding.

You’re willing to wait.

To say that you’re taking your time to eat her out would be inaccurate. If you’re to be honest, it’s difficult to describe the pace you’re using. Inside of her, your index and middle finger move frenetically, as if you are using them to press the same key on a piano repeatedly to produce the same note—her moans. Outside her, your tongue’s movements are almost sluggish, the broad base of it dragging up her flushed lips before the tip flicks the swollen nub at the top. You’re fully invested, scrupulously ensuring the uniformity of your movements to drive Chaewon to perdition. The movements are neither simple nor complex, rather a middle ground between the two (but you do feel that it leans more towards the former), but it’s enough to drive her crazy. Even if she’s a complicated mess to deal with, deep down—she still enjoys some form of simplicity.

“Baby.” The way Chaewon’s calling you sends a shiver down your spine, stirring the emotions in your chest and letting some nostalgia bubble up from the depths of it, “I-I’m… I’m…”

Cumming, you complete just as her head violently whips back into the pillow. Then, in arguably the hottest ways possible, Kim Chaewon orgasms. Her thighs clamp around your head, becoming earmuffs as an onslaught of juices assail your mouth. You can hear her mewling past the flesh that surrounds your ears, and the muffled sound is enough to deluge your heart with depraved satisfaction while her body twitches, convulses and strains violently. The last vestiges of dignity that once enveloped her have fallen away, carried off by the sighs and cries escaping from her trembling lips, and as you lift your mouth of her soaking slit and withdraw your juice-slicked fingers, you know that she’s reached a point of no return.

Patience is truly so rewarding.

“Jesus…” she pants. Once again, believers probably wouldn’t approve of the usage of his name in this context, but something has to cleanse the filth from her body, “When did you get so good at this?”

“Always have been,” you grin. You can tell she wants to roll her eyes, but she hardly has the strength to do so. For a tender moment, you gaze into each other’s eyes and appreciate this moment of inexplicable intimacy, re-living the emotions that were once so present between the two of you. It’s just for tonight. After this, we’ll go back to fighting, you’re telling yourself, and it makes you want to stay like this for a little longer.

But when Chaewon flips herself over onto her belly, the warmth in your chest is shut out and replaced by warped desire. With the tender cheeks of her ass on full display, Chaewon wiggles her behind, inviting you to take your liberties with her body. You take a moment to admire how full they’ve become.

“Been working on it?” you ask her as you squeeze a handful of flesh.

“To the best of my ability,” is her reply, followed by, “you like it?”

Your reply is to deliver a soft spank to the right ass-cheek. She barely even yelps upon contact, a small grin on her face as she watches you spread the flesh apart to reveal her entrances. Then she urges you, “Come on now… Pick a hole, fuck it till you fill it with your cum.”

“What if I want both?” You can’t help but be a little cheeky. Chaewon’s bottom lip furls behind her front teeth.

“I’m not stopping you,” she whispers, “just promise me to cum in me.”

Not a trace of dignity in her words.

Alright, is what you tell her before your head slips inside of her pussy. You can pinpoint the exact moment where her body almost becomes the only thing to exist in your mind—it’s when those walls clamp down around your shaft, pulsing ever so slightly and still twitching from her orgasm, and it’s enough to make you clench all your muscles while you hilt yourself in her. The sigh you let out hardly synchronises with Chaewon’s gasp. Yet, you find that your thoughts are perfectly in sync as your hands grip onto her small waist, and she props herself up on her elbows and knees. Her hair falls off her back, cascading down her shoulders as she turns her head, catches your gaze to tell you—Own this pussy.

No more words need be said. Eagerly, you begin to pump yourself in and out of Chaewon’s slick, tight pussy, her body tightening around your cock with every thrust in and out, lathering your length with juices that glisten in the low light of your room. The sound of her sighs and gasps quickly rise in volume, a beautiful backdrop to the sounds of your wet shaft penetrating her slick pussy again and again.

You’ve already lost yourself in her from the moment you stuck your member into her, but you find your grasp on reality somehow slipping further and further with each thrust you make into that amazingly tight body. It’s the nostalgia—that feeling of being able to hold her again, the feeling of being able to fuck her like you did on those nights after you graduated high school, those nights where her parents weren’t home and she wanted you in ever way possible—that’s making you sink deeper and deeper into this new reality that is Kim Chaewon’s body.

Then her moans start once more; you give in to the carnal emotions that you’ve been doing a really bad job at suppressing, and almost at once, Chaewon becomes the only thing that matters. Her flesh suddenly feels softer than before, her moans and sighs and cries sounding closer and closer to a melody than a haphazard arrangement of notes, and when she rasps for you to fuck her harder, you’re quick to oblige.

Screw patience, you’re going to take what’s yours right here and now.

Your hands drift up from her waist, grip her shoulders and pull her till her body is almost upright. Your left hand slides down, wraps around her flat tummy; your right follows suit—you’re practically hugging her. Chaewon’s arms reach behind her, lock themselves around your neck and pull her face closer to yours. She doesn’t turn to kiss you—that’d take too much energy, energy that she would rather put into moaning—so you settle on capturing her earlobe between your lips, sucking on it softly while she starts to moan your name. Then, her confessions start.

I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you… Oh god, I fucking missed the way your cock stretched me out. So good… So fucking good… This pussy was made for your cock.

Those were just some of the many things you managed to make out. The words were hastily assembled, phonics loosely strung together, and then expelled from those beautiful pink lips in a precipitate manner. There were other things like: I love you, I fucking love you and Oh God I love you as well, but your tried not to make to much of it. Even though you’re lost in paradise, lost in her body, your subconscious is still actively fighting to keep her influence out of your head. Things are already messy—both figuratively and literally—as they are, and the last thing you need is to fall in love with memories of Chaewon while you’re fucking her in such a callous, unrelenting manner. Sex and alexithymia towards an ex is never a good combination—yet here you are, rearranging the insides of Kim Chaewon after agreeing to whatever it was you agreed to before you started (it’s not because you chose to forget, but because you truly can’t remember anything past the point where you stepped through the doorway to your bedroom).

You push away the thoughts (for now), letting them exit your body together with the growl that you release into her ear—Chaewon, why are you so fucking wet?—as your shaft continues to plunge itself between her slick, wet folds. The cheeks of her ass ripple deliciously with each strike of your crotch against hers, eliciting a raunchy exclamation from her body each time she hilts you to the base of your cock. You’re not going particularly fast—Chaewon suddenly has the capacity to reply, I’m always wet for you, baby—but you’re so utterly deep inside her that it’s driving the both of you to perverted elation. The position compromises your speed, but you know for a fact that Chaewon is more than happy to make the trade off, savouring the feel of every inch of you filling her insides at a considerate yet fervent pace.

“Baby.” Her pet name for you is really doing dangerous things to your feelings, “Harder. Let me feel all of you, just like last time.”

She turns her head to meet your gaze, and it’s only then that you see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Your best guess: just like how nostalgia has its effect on you, it's impacting her too. Her emotions are being dallied with, just as yours are. She’s feeling things that she can’t describe, and she doesn’t know if it’s the rock-hard meat drilling in and out of her that’s making her feel this way, or if it's the fact that she may very well be falling for you again. You may never fully comprehend the intricate workings of human emotions, but as you lean in and gently draw her lips to yours, you hope to help her make sense of her feelings.

Why does she always make things messier than they have to be, your asking yourself, all while her hand finds your left cheek, gripping it tightly as your lips part and she whispers, “Fucking own me. Make this pussy yours, just like you used to.”

Just like last time, just like you used to—two statements that unwittingly conveyed that she’s dabbling in the past in a foolhardy manner. Damn it Chae… Why are you doing this? You’re thinking, even as you’re riotously making her bouncing breasts you handlebars, pinching her stiff peaks with between the gap of your middle and forefinger as you double down on her. You’re wondering, Why do you have to make this so damn complicated, as she leans back into you, and you mark the skin of her neck with your lips. Why couldn’t you just wait for me? Things wouldn’t have to be this way if you just had some damn patience, you’re pondering, all while she starts to throw herself back onto your cock. It’s hard to tell if she truly understands the emotional state she’s put herself in, you tell yourself. The irony of this statement is not lost on you, and you’re inwardly chortling at yourself as you pull yourself out of your own head.

You return to reality, and you find that Chaewon’s cumming once more. Did she announce its arrival? You don’t know. All you know is that her pussy is tightening rapidly around you, her body is shivering and shuddering against you, and her knees start giving out on her. You steady her against your chest, slowing yourself to a halt as you realise how dangerously close to the edge you are.

When she taps you on the knee, you take it as a sign to gently lay her back down on the bed. With her belly flat against the mattress, Kim Chaewon reaches behind her and spreads her asscheeks with her fingers. She gives you the slightest of nods; you pull out of her freshly fucked pussy, point the head of your cock at the opening of her ass, and begin to press forward.

Chaewon gasps as your head presses against her tight opening, her body refusing to let you in at first—but you press forward with your hips, slowly parting her entrance. Chaewon squirms and quivers as her opening slowly parts, and soon you are finally inside her. Her hands tighten into fists, scrunching up your bed sheets; a grimace of pain overtakes her partially turned head as you penetrate her ass for the first time. She lets a long hiss escape her lips, and you lean down to kiss the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her, bringing your left hand to match hers on the bed, covering her small hand with your own.

Soon you are halfway inside her ass, and you go no further, letting her get used to the new penetration. When you stop moving, Chaewon lets out a long breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“You okay?” You’re checking on her out of genuine concern. It’s basic human decency, you’re trying to tell yourself, but you have a sinking feeling that she’s unknowingly broken past your defences.

“Fuck,” she spits, “fuck you’re so big inside me.”

“Do you want to—”

“Fuck no,” she snaps, “fuck, please don’t stop. I want this. I want you. I want you in my ass.”

The soft sigh you let out makes the hair atop her head flail a little as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She isn’t crying anymore, but she certainly seems a little embarrassed that she let her emotions get the better of her.

“Keep going.” She can’t seem to raise her head as she speaks, “Fill me, please…”

Basic human decency drives you to compliance, and so you press forward—all the while, your eyes are affixed to the back of her head, your left hand still grasping hers while she shifts around slightly, adjusting herself to take you in better. The small yelps she occasionally lets slip tells you that she’s in discomfort, but not enough to make you stop entering her asshole. It’s too late to turn back now anyway.

It felt like years, but soon you're fully inside her, buried to the hilt inside Chaewon’s ass.

You slowly draw your shaft outside of Chaewon’s tightly gripping ass for the first time, and once it is halfway out, you slowly push back inside her. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and soon you are slowly pumping in and out of her body, your pace relaxed as you enjoy the tight, hot flesh of Chaewon’s body wrapped around your cock. You’re glad that the sheer sublimity of the sensation is removing your ability to think, allowing you to steep yourself in the moment with a turmoil free mind.

Chaewon’s tightness is overwhelming to say the least. Her pussy was tight, but her ass on another level altogether. Not as wet, of course, but almost overwhelmingly tight and hot, grasping you tightly with each entrance and exit like a glove. This would be the first time you’re entering her like this, and you aren’t sure if you’re doing it right, but soon she’s taking you in and out of her ass smoothly, the pain and discomfort of your initial penetration quickly lessening and giving way to the novel, new sensation of pleasure from having her ass filled.

Chaewon lets a short, sharp gasp escape her lips when you fill her to the hilt—one that takes her by surprise given the slight look of shock that you make out on her features. You reach down with your right hand, gingerly grip her chin and tilt her face up so you can get a better look at her face. Her eyes are glazed over now with pleasure, locking to yours as you start pumping in and out of her asshole. After a while her gasps lessen and then end completely as she becomes used to the hard length pumping in and out of her butt. She reaches up with her right hand to hold yours, and she pulls it down her chin until it’s at her throat. You didn’t know she was into choking, and she had never made you do it before. Then again, you’ve never had her ass before either—there’s a first for everything.

You feel her warm neck pulsing beneath your palm. She squeezes the outside of your hand slightly, causing you to clamp a little bit around her slim neck. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her ass to clench even tighter around you: succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you are going insane. The novelty of fucking Chaewon’s ass, your hand around her throat, the carnality, the surprising tenderness of the moment–it’s all so damn overwhelming.

“C-Chae,” you call out to her. Her gaze flickers from the wall to your eyes, and you whisper, “Do you… Do you really want me to—”

“Just fucking do it!” Chaewon gasps, barely attempting to filter the want out of her voice, “Choke me! Cum in me!”

With her permission, you were more than willing to let yourself fall over the edge at this point.

Chaewon’s hand—the one that stops your hand at her throat—tightens, as though willing you to increase your grip on her windpipe. You are still afraid of hurting her—you already feel guilty for causing her pain and discomfort (physically and emotionally). But her hand on top of yours, clasped around her throat, dismissed any worry you may have had about taking things too far. Your orgasm beckons, and the hand around Chaewon’s pale throat tightens involuntarily with each thrust in her hot, tight hole.

Do it… own me—her voice is straining—Make yours again. Choke me while you fuck my ass… Use me! Fill me… Fill my ass with your cum!

With a few final, short, hard thrusts into Chaewon’s ass, you bury yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting go. Thick, hot cum spurts from your shaft into Chaewon’s willing depths, her hot, tight ass squeezing and pulsing around your cock as if milking every last drop from you. As you cum, your hand around her throat involuntarily tightens, and the moan that escapes Chaewon’s throat turns into a gasp—the dark part of you takes obscene pleasure in that fact.

Both of your bodies quiver and shake as the intense pleasure of your orgasm overwhelms your senses. It seems to last forever—longer than any other orgasm you’ve had. Nothing else exists for those long seconds, aside from Chaewon’s shaking body beneath you and the hot mess you’ve made inside her.

Your cock pulses a few final times as your orgasm slowly subsides and releases the last spurts of cum into Chaewon’s body and you regretfully come down from your high. After a few more seconds of treasuring the feel of the hot, creamy mess you’ve left inside her, you slowly draw your half-soft cock out of her body. Within seconds, white, pearly semen begins to leak out of her and onto the reddened, sore cheeks of her ass. Your eyes remain glued to Chaewon’s still-quivering form as she tries and mostly fails to collect herself. Slowly, she turns on her side, her whole body heaving like she’s completed a marathon. Her inner thighs glisten, your juices and hers flow down her naked skin. It's now that you remember what you agreed to before you started: Just for tonight…

“Hey…” Her voice has a lilt as she beckons you to her side. “Cuddle with me… Just for tonight.”

There she goes again.

Yeah, right... you sigh inwardly. The way she's looking at you tells you that the feelings brought forth tonight will persist as long as she permits. Maybe, just maybe, you should have turned her down, made her come as she was, and kept her at a distance; but she’s already snuggled up in your arms by the time you finish this train of thought. She kisses you on your jaw, then on your neck, then utters a soft good night baby before nuzzling herself into the crook of your neck.

Physically and emotionally, you've made a mess of her. And, in turn, she's made a mess of you too—physically and emotionally.

But you choose to forget that, just for tonight.

***

She slips out of your apartment at God knows what time, leaving like a thief in the night and leaving a note in her wake: I took one of your shirts. Will return it if I feel like it.

Then below the message: P.S. Forget that last night happened. Go continue being a player.

“I… Can’t believe this bitch.” You’re leaning against the door—the place where she’d stuck on the note—as you finish reading it. You decide to crumple it and toss it away—it’s the easiest thing to forget about her anyway.

To be clear: You had no clue what your opinion on Chaewon was anymore, nor did you know what your status with her was (though the note suggests that she’s going to return to her usual bratty behaviour). Sometimes, you wish that there could be a bright digital sign perpetually hanging above her head, providing interpretations to her erratic behaviour.

Yea… That would be great.

Just as you throw out her bowl of fried rice, there comes a knock on your door. You’re surprised to find Hwang Yeji standing there by herself.

“O-Oh… Yeji,” you mutter.

“That has to be the most asinine statement I’ve ever heard,” she derides. You purse your lips and scratch the back of your head, then you ask, “Do you uh… Need to borrow something?”

Yeji sighs and shakes her head. She’s quick to get to the point, “Are you free this afternoon?”

You nod, then she tells you, “I need you to follow me somewhere today. Meet me in the lobby at 3pm.”

She’s about to leave you with that vague request, but you’re quick to ask what this is about. It’s unwonted of her to suddenly request to meet you, and you’re painfully aware (or at least you thought you were) that she knows that this is unprecedented of her. Laconic and biting as ever, she turns back to you and tells you: I need you to help me talk to someone.

“W-Who?” You’re quick to ask. She turns her back to you as she answers.

“My junior. She wants to be our saxophonist.”

_________________________

What is popping gang. I did not get a chance to look through this thoroughly, nor was I able to get anyone to beta read for me :p. Hope you didn't have your bars raised to high for this.

~Nichuuu

#kim chaewon #chaewon smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim #chaewon le sserafim #kpop #fanfic #writing #smut

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etherealstar-writes · 4 months

Text

I WANNA BE YOURS | LIONESSES X READER | PT 9

pairings: lionesses x reader

summary: in which you're accidentally added to a random group chat, not knowing they're all actually famous footballers, and obliviously end up having many of them competing for your love and attention.

part: nine

part one here

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

You were seated on the couch with your best friend, Dani, in her apartment with bowls of snacks stacked in front of you guys. Dani was the one currently obsessed with the women football since England was hosting the Euros, and would be the one spamming you with edits.

She'd begged you to come tonight to watch the quarter finals with her with England versing Spain. And you'd finally given in, hoping to finally get cultured and then flex off to the group chat that you finally knew the names of more players other than just Lucy Bronze.

And so here you were, your eyes glued on the tv screen as the National Anthem had ended and the match was about to start. Your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion when the line-ups had been displayed for a few seconds before the kick-off whistle was blown. The last names of the Lionesses were somehow familiar, but before you could dwell on it more, it went away.

"Okay so," Dani began, pointing to the different players as the match began. "The blonde one with the number 8 on her back is Leah Williamson, my personal fav, and the captain of the team."

You nodded along.

Leah Williamson. Seems familiar.

"And then the one in goals is Mary Earps. There's Lucy Bronze with the number 2 on her back and Mille Bright next to Leah with number 6. Over there running is Keira Walsh and she has 4 on her back."

Your eyebrows furrowed again when you heard the name Earps and Bright, but decided to ignore it.

"Right there is Lauren Hemp with 11 next to Fran Kirby who's 14, and that one is Rachel Daly with number 3 on her back."

Nahhh, it couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Leah, Earps, Bright, Kie, Lauren, and now Daly?

"Oh, and that's Stanway with the ball. She just passed it to Meado!"

Hold on.

Your eyes widened. "Meado?"

"Yeah, Beth Mead. We call her Meado." Dani nodded, glancing at you and saw that you had a shocked look on your face. "You good?"

"Wait, so would Stanway's first name be Georgia by any chance?" You questioned.

"Yeah, you guessed it right!" Dani laughed. "It looks like my edits are helping."

You forced a smile on your face and nodded along, but internally you were screaming. You grabbed your phone and googled all the players on the football squad including the subs, noticing the resemblance to all the names on the group chat.

Leah Williamson. Georgia Stanway. Ella Toone. Alessia Russo. Beth Mead. Lotte Wubben-Moy. Niamh Charles. Lucy Bronze. Mary Earps. And it went on. Some had only spoken once but you had seen their name.

While Dani was focused on the game, you were lost in your own thoughts. It all seemed like a big joke right now.

The times they'd be in the gym and would be training together. The photos they would send on the chat where they were in what you now realised were their football kits, and the football games they would pass off as a bit of fun. And the fact that Lucy Bronze had commented your post.

It all made sense when you thought about it.

These past few months you'd been chatting with them, you'd thought you had gotten to "know" them better, but really you knew practically nothing because they'd continued to hide about who they were and would change the topic when you did try to bring it up, all while knowing basically everything about you.

And suddenly, you felt very stupid and very played, as well as kinda betrayed.

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

liked by danisterling and 140 others

yourusername: me raiding all of dani's snacks while trying to understand football. england national football team or national diving team? who knows 🤷‍♀️ is it coming home lionesses?

danisterling: it's coming homeeeee ↳ yourusername: let's hope so

laniangelo: maybe you'll get lucky and another of them will see this post and you can finally become a wag ↳ yourusername: new fear: unlocked

chasejackson: looking flawless l/n 😩 ↳ yourusername i know 😌

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

THE NATIONAL DIVING TEAM

the imposter well done on the match girls! you guys played great loved the goals toone and stanway

elton

thank you so much y/n!

stairway ahh thank you y/n really appreciate it wait .... HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT ITS US

neev oh no

the imposter have fun messing around with someone else and hiding your identities from them! xx

the imposter left

meado what were you guys expecting? you were literally going to be on tv playing football she was bound to see and find out soon you should've told her sooner

stairway we messed up didn't we?

willybum yeah

neev we gotta fix this

the REAL karate kid how she probably hates us

elton i got an idea

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

leahwilliamsonn started following yourusername alessiarusso99 started following yourusername ellatoone started following yourusername stanwaygeorgia started following yourusername niamhcharles17 started following yourusername lottewubbenmoy started following yourusername lucybronze started following yourusername 1maryearps started following yourusername and more started following yourusername

✦ ——— ✦ ——— ✦

part ten here

#lionesses x reader #engwnt x reader #engwnt #lionesses #leah williamson x reader #alessia russo x reader #ella toone x reader #niamh charles x reader #georgia stanway x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso fanfics

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hello!! your writing is so lovey !! i’d love to read about some hurt/comfort with Joel if you’re up for it!!

thank you for your request, hope this is ok! tw for attempted sexual assault and implied physical assault/ bruises/ traumatic event | fem!reader 1.1k

Joel's probably worried, you think.

The skin of your arms and torso is rippled with goosebumps as another cold breeze whips past. Your fingertips are numb. Every new gale stings the welts across your stomach, shallow cuts from untrimmed fingernails. You'll need to wash them out when you get home, only home is a long ways away, and you're still shirtless.

Joel's apartment is much closer. You know where you'll end up, even as you beg yourself to stick out the cold and the vulnerability. You don't want to burden him with this, but you don't want to carry it by yourself, either.

The steps up to his apartment are cracked and filthy. Glass crushes under your ratty converse as you bump up each step, uncrossing your arms to hold on to the bannister inside. You pretty much sprint to his floor. You're not stupid, you know walking around half naked makes you a target for creeps.

You stand in front of his door, shaking from the cold. You bruised knuckles ache as you knock.

"Joel?" you say, crossing your arms over your bare chest again. "It's me."

Please be home.

"Joel? Are you–"

The door opens suddenly, wisps of your hair dancing forward. You tighten your arms across your chest and can't make yourself smile at the man in front of you. Joel is rumpled, his clothes marred with dark mud, and he looks pissed. He must've just gotten in.

He steps toward you and you step back. You're still in flight mode, but Joel's not gonna hurt you. He grabs your shoulder and shepherd's you behind him, looking down the hallway.

"They didn't follow me."

"They?" he asks stonily. His rage is quick to boil.

You don't have any answers for him. You don't know who it was.

Joel walks you inside of the apartment. His hand burns your chilled skin. Any heat feels like a relief to you, your body thrumming with an emotion you can't place as you press your back to his arm.

He gets you on the couch, drapes a blanket over your shoulders. You're freezing up and not sure why, your grip on the present loosening as he crouches in front of you. The tip of his ring finger brushes against the gouges in your arm.

"Is this it?" he asks.

You press your lips together tightly and lift your arm so he can see the long welts over your stomach, beginning just under your chest and stopping before your navel.

"Nothing else?"

You look over his shoulder. "No," you say softly. "Nothing else."

"Look at me."

You look at him. You've known Joel for long enough to understand his expressions, but when you'd first met they felt like a puzzle. You'd thought him disdainfully detached, especially when his impassive lowbrow was accompanied by his silences. His glaring isn't at you, it's for you.

A single tear races down your cheek. You try very hard to mirror his steadiness.

"They pushed me up against a wall," you whisper, afraid that any sudden movements will spill another welled tear, "and they took off my shirt, and I– I think I hit him in the throat, and I pulled away even though he," —you gesture to your stomach— "tried to pull me back in. I tripped the other one."

"You're sure they didn't do anything else?" he asks.

"It's all surface wounds, Joel. My arm hurts, and I'm cold, but it's not as bad as it looks."

He takes your cold hand like he doesn't mean to. He squeezes your fingers together, the bones aching for a millisecond, and lets you go. You curl in on yourself as he stands and leaves the room, his footsteps moving through the bedroom and the bathroom, where the tap runs.

He returns with a shirt that won't fit you right and a first aid kit. He turns though he's seen it all now, letting you slip the shirt over your head and tug it over your stomach with a semblance of privacy.

"I'm sorry for coming here," you say.

He turns and shakes his head. "Don't say that shit. This is exactly where you're supposed to come. Do you want to stand up, let me disinfect scrapes?"

You stand and reluctantly leave the blanket on the couch. He takes your arm into a much gentler hand than the one that left your scratches, disinfecting your cuts with a small piece of gauze and a splash of alcohol. You wonder if he thinks about the loss. Any sip is precious.

He starts to pull up your shirt. You hold very still, let him pin it just under your breasts without so much as a wrong breath, and still he checks your face.

"Alright?"

You nod emphatically. Joel takes care to be gentle but he's still thorough — you wince at the feeling of wet cotton dragging down your broken skin.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Joel doesn't say sorry often. You know he wouldn't apologise for something so small as the biting ache of disinfectant.

"It's not your fault. It's mine, I didn't have my jacket, I was only–" putting out the trash. Trying to do something normal, but nothing's normal anymore. "I'm fucking stupid. I've seen one of them with Ronnie before, I should've known they were bad news."

You really aren't expecting his hug. Any affection beyond a quick hand hold or pat on the shoulder is scarce.

"You're not stupid." Joel's hand moves up to your hair, cupping the back of your head. "You're not."

His touch brings an instant wave of heat behind your eyes. You screw them closed tight to stop from sobbing into his shoulder, your hands vying desperately for his waist, his back, pulling him as close as he'll let you be. He doesn't push you away, not for a second.

"You're okay," he says firmly.

Joel is all encompassing. His presence numbs the last remains of your panic. His arms are tight behind you, his chest solid under your own.

"My hands are so cold, they're hurting," you mumble.

If he feels the tears seeping into his t-shirt, he doesn't mention it. "Yeah?" he asks, reaching back to pull one from his back. He wedges it between you, your fingertips aligned over his heart.

You'd never know how angry he was at that moment. You won't realise how deeply it runs until night's fallen, and you wake alone in his bed to the sound of the door closing. When he climbs in beside you, his knuckles are an angry red.

#joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller hurt/comfort #the last of us x reader #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us tv show #the last of us hbo #joel miller #joel miller x reader angst #joel miller x you #the last of us

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tired-teacher-blog · 2 months

Text

In the waiting room

Characters : Kirishima/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Handjob/ Fluff/ Cum eating/ One Shot

Notes : Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

• So, has anyone ever thought of professional boxer Kirishima? Just me? Okay cool.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

A man who's nothing less than a beast in front of his opponents, and nothing more than a little puppy when you're around.

He's ripped, barely fits in his gym clothes, arms and chest are covered in tattoos and multiple scars -courtesy of the countless matches he's been involved in so far- striking fear in the bones of men, and lust in the hearts of women.

He's a legend in the world of combat sports, with many championship belts, trophies and medals with his name on them, everyone both hates, and wants to be him, it's a paradox really, and that's how impactful this man can be.

_ "You're an idiot," you grumble under your breath while gently using a gauze swab to clean the cut under his left eye, "this could have been bad."

_ "I'm sorry babe so please don't be mad at me, it's just that I got distracted by how beautiful you looked while cheering for me." a goofy smile appears on his face as he casually slips a hand under your skirt and slides it up slowly, only to retract it a moment after with a wince of pain when you intentionally dabbed at the wound a bit too harshly.

_ "Stop joking around will you?" you are definitely not amused, and the irritated expression on your face, says it all.

_ "It's fine love, I won didn't I?" he expresses cheerfully, puffing his chest and chuckling cutely, but you still do not find it funny.

_ "You really are an idiot huh?" you slap a band-aid on him before collecting the first aid kit and standing up from your seat with a roll of your eyes, "do you think winning is what's on my mind right now? I just want you to be safe you clueless asshole."

_ "So you were just worried about me?" and it seems as if he has just made a grand discovery, the spark in his eye is blinding and the stupid smile on his face is endearing, and you almost break into laughter yourself, watching the duality of this man's intimidating appearance, and pure heart.

A duality only you can witness.

_ "Of course I was, you big jerk." you finally give in to your giggles, cradling his cheeks and smoothing your thumb over the covered wound apologetically.

A shriek suddenly escapes you when he effortlessly picks you up in his arms and spins you around, banging on his chest and demanding to be put down between uncontrollabe laughter.

You know him well enough to realise what he has in mind, but you refuse to give in too easily as you were still on the arena's ground –albeit in his fancy waiting room, tucked away from the prying eyes of his fans and reporters who wish for nothing more than a glimpse of their champion.

_ "Come on sweetheart please, no one would dare come near our door, trust me." he cooes cutely, almost pathetically to be honest, while plopping down on the comfy sofa with you on his lap.

It's useless to ask of him to wait until you reach home, his patience is running thin already, and the forming bulge poking your thigh is enough proof of that.

You sigh defeatedly and plant a small peck under the bruise surrounding his cut, "okay but we can't go all the way here."

He nods his head enthusiastically and leans back against the backrest of the sofa with an excited expression on his face as you start running your fingers over the protruding muscles of his chest, secretly grateful he is still in his boxing shorts and nothing else.

You wiggle yourself a bit and reach down to palm his clothed cock, giving it a few teasing squeezes while your lips latch onto his tense jaw.

_ "Baby please, stop tormenting me." he breathes out the plea, eyes squeezing shut and hips bucking against the slow movements of your hand.

He clutches onto your butt cheeks and pulls you even closer to himself, little moans of your name are fanning over your ear and travelling straight to your loins as the caresses on his bulge quicken.

He isn't the only one enjoying himself, oh definitely not, because watching him this desperate for your touch and craving a release that only you can grant him, is a reward in itself.

Your kisses move lower, from his jawline to his neck, and your teeth graze the sensitive skin covering his wild pulse while swiftly slipping your hand into his shorts to free the raging shaft from its confinement.

_ "Oh, what do we have here? A few little touches got you all worked up?" you whisper the remark teasingly, stroking the smooth head and admiring the clear precum collected on your thumb.

_ "This is on you princess, your hand is so warm and soft so please don't stop." his breathing is labored and hips are restless as he chased the blissful feeling of your fist around his cock, and you gladly give him what he wants, tightening your hold as you pumped him faster, and relishing the little twitches against your palm along with the blunt nails pressing into your thighs as your cute little skirt rode up around your waist.

You kiss him on the lips, effectively silencing the thirsty growls escaping his throat while he devours the smirk appearing on your face as his hand moved to encircle your own and guide it to move even faster.

He is desperate and itching for release, and seeing him in this state is coaxing a pleasant heat to pool into the pit of your tummy as you wished to have him buried deep inside you when he finally reaches his high, but that needs to wait until later, until you're home together, away from everyone who is certainly still clinging to the hope of seeing him tonight.

_ "Fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. baby girl I'm cumming!" he breaks the kiss to rasp out the words, moving the hand that's been holding your thigh, to gently cradle your neck instead. It's his way of bringing your face towards him as he cums, the image of you is what he wants carved into his brain when he finally loses control.

_ "Go ahead Eijiro, let it all out honey." you coo sweetly, biting down on your lip as he whined louder, and that is all it took for the ropes of his pearly seeds to erupt from his tip and coat your hand and his.

A wide smile finds its way to his flushed face as he finally relaxed underneath you, but then a sudden darkness creeps in his eyes as you moved your glistening fingers to your lips, licking and sucking every single digit clean.

_ "Yummy." and your teasing continues towards your poor boyfriend whose mouth is hanging open while watching you in awe, but then a sharp squeal tears past your throat as you found yourself on your back, sinking into the plush sofa with his menacing frame hovering over your writhing body.

_ "I'm sorry princess but you're being so unfair." and his hands are already stripping off your clothes as he spoke.

You should have known the moment you walked into the room with him, that just a little bit of touching would not be nearly enough to quench his insufferable thirst for you, not that you mind going further anyway.

_ "Okay Eijiro, I'm all yours."

#kirishima eijiro #kirishima eijiro smut #eijiro kirishima x reader #eijiro kirishima smut #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima eijiro headcanons #kirishima eijiro imagine #kirishima eijiro x y/n #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha headcannons #mha headcanons #kirishima smut

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shuuuuush · 11 months

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I WOULD FIGHT FOR YOU ANYDAY [Kenny]

Summary: Kenny gets into a fight with someone who was talking bad about you behind your back.

Warnings: mentions of fighting and injury

A/N: I don't think I've seen many Kenny fics, so here's for Kenny lovers out there 🫶

*** ***

They say there is nothing like coming home and collapsing onto the sofa after a long and tiring day. In your opinion, anyway, it's the second best thing, the first is collapsing and going into a long hug with your boyfriend, Kenny.

You were out all day hanging out with some friends and just came home a few minutes before 8. You had gone grocery shopping half an hour earlier as you wanted to make Kenny his favourite dessert, apple crumble. And you haven't really cooked much for him lately, so you also wanted it to be a surprise.

Usually, he comes home at 9 on normal days. Depending on other days, he has boxing training, to which you mostly stay at home by yourself. But you knew today he had to shoot a video, so he'll be back at the normal time.

Cleaning yourself up and prepping the dinner, you got started on making the dessert. You smile as you remember watching Kenny's Come Dine With Me video. You remember his reaction to you laughing at his cooking skills, you love him but it was horrendous.

"I probably made a better apple crumble than you." He said, pouting at your laughing figure.

You grin, shaking your head. "Oh, I definitely make a better apple crumble." You said, still recovering from laughter.

After half an hour, the dessert was prepared, you left it on the counter to cool. All that was left was the waiting game.

5 minutes, Sitting on the couch, you decided to turn on the TV, just to wait out the time.

25 minutes, looking at the clock, you sighed. Maybe they just had a long day to record.

40 minutes, scrolling through your phone, debating whether or not to call him. You didn't want to disturb him either as it might interfere with their video. You ended up not calling him.

1 hour later. At this point, you concluded that Kenny was either not coming home or is going to come home very, very late. And the food was already cold, so you wrapped it up and put it in the fridge.

You sighed, looking at the clock once more, 10:21 pm. You decided to head to bed instead, halfway up the stairs you're thinking, maybe you should've called him. Pulling out your phone, you suddenly hear the jingling of keys unlocking the front door.

Running back down the stairs, heading towards the front door, you're about to question the man you love.

"Ken, you better have an amazing explanation fo-" You cut yourself off suddenly when you saw him. He had bruises on his face and a cut on his lip, clutching his left arm as he locked the door and drops his keys on the table.

"Hey love, sorry I was late..." His voice was lower than a whisper as he glanced briefly at your shocked figure than away.

A sudden hurt hit your heart after seeing his face. Your eyes widened, and you stood in shock for a split second before you quickly came over to help him. Bringing him over to the sofa and setting him down, careful not to hurt him.

You quickly went to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit, and you wet a small face towel. Rushing back to Kenny, you sat down and carefully started cleaning up his face.

"Baby, what happened? How are you feeling? Are you okay? Does this hurt when I touch it? When did this happen?" Bombaring him with all the questions, he took your hands and looked into your eyes.

"Love, one question at a time, please."

"Okay," you started, taking a deep breath, "What happened?"

"How about you clean me up first actually, then I'll answer that one. My face hurts like hell." He chuckled, shaking his head and looking back at you, rolling your eyes in response with a small smile.

You took the cold cloth and cleaned up the blood scar on his lip, then moving onto the bruises, slightly pressing onto it and asking if it hurt or not, to which he flinched, obviously indicating to you, it did.

Asking if there was any pain elsewhere, you remembered him clutching his arm earlier. You asked if he could remove his jumper so you could check his arm, to which he calmly complied.

There was a huge bruise along his left arm, and you got an ice pack from the freezer and put it around his arm, wrapping it around with a bandage gauze to keep it in place. Finally, your boyfriend was all patched up.

"Okay, Kenny, you have BIG explaining to do." You waited, watching with set eyes, hoping to know why the hell he came back to you injured.

"How about we head to bed? I'm pretty tired. Long day shooting the videos, you know?" He half smiled and started to get up.

"KENNY!" You weren't having any of that. You pulled him back and sat him back down, careful not to hurt him even though you were getting annoyed. "I'm not playing around. Tell me what happened. Now."

His head hung low, and he nodded and began telling you what happened.

***

"Nah, nah, Niko, you're violating him." AJ doubled over with laughter, trying to recover his breath as they all were watching and listening in the van. Shooting another fake employee video and Niko was currently violating someone about their "bad breath."

"Ask him what he wants to order, then tell him to shush." Chunkz suggested giggling with the rest of the boys.

Over the phone, their conversation could be heard, "Oh yeah, what do you want to order?" "Yeah I'd like a-" "JUST SHUSH MAN."

All of the boys suddenly burst out of laughter at the tall man's actions. Time was up, and Niko returned to the van. It was Kennys turn to be a fake employee.

Walking up to the customers, the boys told him what to say to the person ordering. He did all they told him to say until this one customer tried to mess up the whole thing for Kenny.

He knew who Kenny was, and he ratted him out to the manager, the little snitch. Causing Kenny to get kicked out, and while doing so, the customer started cursing out Kenny, saying his boxing was trash and Kenny just ignored it and laughed off his insults, until the man mentioned you.

He started saying "Oh and that pathetic girlfriend of yours, she's not even pretty and that goes well with her ugly personality. Matches why she chose such an idiot person like you."

Kenny stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Anyone who was around him could tell that he was mad, and the anger fueled swirling inside his dark eyes.

And where there's a boxer, there's a punch.

One punch led to another, and then there was a fight, the boxer and the man throwing punches at each other, causing the beta squad boys to run out, trying to stop Kenny.

"Yo Kenny, chill out, don't kill the guy!" Sharky said, holding Kenny back. Chunkz got in the middle of the two of them and told the man to back off, AJ screamed at the man to never come back, making him run away from the lot of boys.

"Calm, Ken, Calm." Niko tried soothing Kenny down after he was clearly outraged, placing one hand on his friends shoulder.

"No! This donny thinks he can talk bad about Y/N?? She's amazing, and the love of my life shall I remind you lot. I'm not letting that slide. That guy is proper mad if he thinks he can talk like that."

Kenny was fuming, still trying to break free from Niko and Sharkys grasp, but after some talk and calm words from the boys. He managed to let down his anger.

"Look, Kenny, I know you're mad and all, but you wouldn't want to return back to Y/N in pieces? If we didn't stop you, that idiot or you would've been in the hospital, bro." AJ stated, and for once, he actually tried to calm the boxer instead of trying to annoy him.

"AJ's right, bruva. Calm yeah, don't worry, we'll delete the footage. We can take you back to your house after." Chunkz said, putting a hand out on Kennys shoulder, reassuring him.

Throughout the ride back to his house, Kenny was wondering if you would have thought less of him if he didn't finish off the guy. Let him run away? Allow him to even speak about you like that in the first place? Or if you hated that he was too aggressive at times, and would it scare you off? All these questions floated in his head, worrying him even more to the second closer to his house.

When he arrived, he checked the time on his phone, 10:19 pm. He thanked the boys and exited the car, fumbling for his keys and in his mind trying to find out how to approach you.

***

"And that's basically it." He admitted, a straight face, but you could see in his eyes, worry and confusion to your reaction.

You were still processing what he said, and then finally set on his eyes. You could honestly feel tears start to develop in your eyes, as you stare at this beautiful man, all that he did for you? And he thought that you would be mad at him for defending you?

Honestly, sometimes you think this man lets his hits to the face, hit his brain a little too hard.

You placed both of your hands around his face and made him look up at you, as he was looking down earlier. His gaze softened, and he could read it in your eyes that all those thoughts that he was afraid of weren't true and probably weren't ever going to be true.

"Kenny," you started still having your hands on his face, "You do realise that I would never be mad at you for protecting those you love? In fact, I'm really happy that you would do such a thing for me." Your lips curled into a soft smile when you saw in his eyes the relief he felt after hearing your words.

"I would fight for you any day, love." Kenny smiled back at you and leaned in to kiss you. A soft kiss but reassuring you and mostly himself that he would always love you and fight to protect you. And he would always be by your side.

Pulling away, you laid your head on his chest, wrapping an arm around his torso, and he wrapped his around your waist. "Still, I don't like that you got hurt. But it did mean I got to take care of you for what you did." You laughed, causing Kenny to chuckle too.

"Also, I smelt something when I walked in here earlier?" He questioned, and you got up off of his chest and smiled widely.

"Apple crumble, baby." You winked and laughed as Kenny got up real quick to sit at the dining table waiting to try the apple crumble.

Right now, you wouldn't care about any other problem in the world. Everything that mattered to you was here right now, in front of you. And to give him what he deserved after what he did for you, it only seems fair for a king.

Taglist: @b4tasquad

#beta squad #kenny x reader #kenny x you #kenny beta squad x reader #kenny beta squad x you #shuuuuush fics #niko omilana #sharky #aj shabeel #chunkz #king kenny #king kenny x reader #king kenny x you

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statisticallymorelikely · 6 months

Text

00Q au edit for @ironpe: pre-MI6 relationship

AU where Q and James had a relationship before James was recruited to MI6. After a hasty recruitment, James disappears suddenly, ordered not to contact anyone from his past life, including his lover, the man who would become Q. He's pronounced dead from a botched Naval mission that never happened, and Q goes on to search for him tirelessly for years. Until, one day, they finally meet again, as agent and quartermaster.

---

After one particularly close call, James decides enough is enough. If he can die at any moment, he'd rather do it without any more regrets adding to the pile. So when he goes to return his equipment, he ignores R completely, marches into Q's office and stands right there, locking the door behind him.

Q's mouth opens, but James beats him to it. "I'm not leaving."

"007," Q sighs. "Unless the world is actively imploding, I have nothing to say to you. Kindly return your equipment to your designated handler."

"Alright, Q, you don't need to talk. I only need you to listen to me."

Q stands up, arms folded. Though his demeanor seems guarded, James notes the excessive blinking and the clench in his jaw. "I don't want to listen to any of your excuses, 007."

"No excuses, Q. I'm here to apologize." James lets out a rumbling breath. He can practically hear the grief and regret rattling in his bones, he's tired. "I shouldn't have left like I did. I've broken rules before, could've easily snuck away to contact you. Truth is, by the time I could, I had so much blood on my hands, I couldn't risk staining you. Every day since I've hated myself for hurting you. I'm sorry."

The moments stretch out between them silently, until it's suffocating. When Q finally does break the silence, it's with a whisper. "I thought you died. I've committed treason several times over, hacking into government records just to find you. I didn't want to accept you were dead."

Q looks up at him for the first time, eyes wet. "I grieved you, James, and to find out that you've been alive this whole time--"

James moves closer, but Q holds his hand up to keep him at bay.

"-- and not only that, but to find out you've moved on." Q swallows thickly. "I know about Vesper, James. Do you know what it says in your file?"

He does.

"You almost retired for her. So I suppose I never mattered enough for you to give all this up."

James sighs, defeated. "What can I do to earn back your trust?"

"I don't know if you can." Q hugs himself tightly. "And if you could, this is not the way to do it. You can't just barge in here and ask for things to go back the way they were! This isn't something you can fix with an apology!"

"I know that. I'm not trying for a quick fix, Q, I'm in this for the long run. Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I want to earn your forgiveness, please."

The last word softens Q, the fight dissipating from his posture. "I'll think about it. For now, put what's left of your kit on the table and fuck off."

James nods once, taking the small leather case from his suit pocket and placing it on the desk. "Thank you, Q."

With that, he leaves.

Q opens the case to reveal a gun, radio and electronic lock pick, all fully intact. Despite his better judgment, his battered heart skips a beat.

#00Q #007 #quartermaster #james bond #00Qedit #happy momf bebby #buzzer beater lmao #au edit tag #snippet lifted almost fully from the one we wrote together #except the shitty ending because once again i ran out of steam

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wonder-mei · 3 months

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The thief is kinda cute (MK1 Syzoth)

Author's note; reminder this is not a lore accurate to the Mortal Kombat universe. I write because they're hot. I also do no have beta reader or i read my fan fic from top to bottom to see any errors. I'm lazy okay.

She is not seeing things. She knows. A pastry she put on the table in the breakroom suddenly vanished but her coworkers said she ate it without remembering. Obviously she will remember what she eats. The pastry suddenly disappeared!

“I’m leaving now. Don’t hallucinate without me” her coworker laughs at the front door of the restaurant

“I’m not hallucinating! There is–”

“Yeah yeah, an invisible thing is living here. Don’t have to remind me. See you tomorrow” the colleague left leaving her alone for the night’s shift

“Hmm” she puffs out the annoyance. No one believes her that there are some materials and foods missing from time to time. But they all think she was imagining stuff. She went on the plan she had before going to her shift today; placing a freshly cooked fried rice in the break room then pretends she’s going to the restroom but this time with a twist. She going to lock the door

She waits for the restaurant to be clear from customers. She places a bowl of fried rice on the table “Oh no, i want to pee” she walks outside towards the toilet that is not far from the break room. She hides behind a shelf eyeing the bowl of rice. She waits for a few minutes and the spoon in the bowl floats!

With speed, she runs and locks the door. There’s a rush of footsteps inside the room twisting the knob “Reveal yourself ghost! I– i know a few recites that i am not afraid to use on you!” she grabs the nearest pan just for sure if the entity attacks her if it manages to break down the door. With bravery and curiousness, she unlocks the door and raise the pan to hit the entity but–

“Please don’t hurt me!” the nothingness pleas

“Huh?” the entity seems like standing in front of her “Show yourself demon!”

“I’m not a demon… i am–” from nothingness in front of her pops out a man in green. Taller and bigger than herself “I am Syzoth…” he holds both of his hand up

She stares at him still with the pan raised up to hit him “What is a Syzoth?”

“I am a human….?”

“Why are you questioning yourself? You are not human! Demon!” she ready to attack.

“Wait. Please!” he covers his face with his arms waiting for the impact but nothing. He lowers his arms to see her staring at him. Staring at his badly bandaged left arm.

“You are hurt” the bandage is full of dirt and dried blood. He never bandages a new one “There’s a first aid kit. I can help you” without waiting for his response, she takes out a first aid kit from a cabinet inside the break room. She gestured to him to sit. He did.

She squeamish at the sights of the wounds. It looks like someone scratches him deeply until can see a small sight of his flesh “You’re lucky it’s not infected”. She aids his wounds with care.

As she wraps his wounds with bandages, “You are not crazy…. I ate all the foods that were missing…”

“I know that i’m not crazy” she focuses herself wrapping the bandage

“I am sorry…”

“Are you alright? As in, are you doing fine? Why are you stealing?” she eyes him. He has beautiful eyes she admits herself

He shamefully looks away “I have no money to buy. I am sorry” he apologize again

She sighs “Don’t be sorry. I understand your situation just… don’t steal anymore. Just ask and i will give you” His wounds is now covered with new fresh bandage and got the right medicine for it

Syzoth examined the bandage “Thank you so much… i will leave now”

“Wait!” she holds his shoulder down not letting him stand up “Eat this” she slides the bowl of rice next to him “I already ate. It’s a waste to throw them out,right?”

He stares at her. How can she still smile at a thief like him? “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go on. I have to clean a bit. Enjoy” She left him to eat the fried rice to clean up what is left to be done before closing the restaurant. When she returns to the break room he’s already gone. She rushed to the back door,when she opened it he already stood there in the rain. His eyes fixed on her “Thank you. You are very kind… thank you so much”

She looks at him. Lost in his eyes “See you tomorrow?”

“Okay” with a nod. She closes the door, locking it. Without any reason, her heart is beating like crazy. She closes the restaurant as usual but tonight. She hears a distant footstep behind her but no one can be seen. He’s secretly failed to hide himself, Syzoth is eyeing her to her home safely. She smiles by herself feeling safe that he is watching over her.

The footsteps stop right after she enters her home. He left right after she closed and locked the door. She sleeps with a wide smile on her face.

The next day, she walks into her shift feeling thrilled. Her coworkers noticed her mood “Thinking about other ideas of yours to trap the scary demon?” they tease

“Hmph, actually he is not scary. Quite adorable. Soothing in the eyes”

The coworkers look at each other, weirded out and worried for her. “I told you she is crazy” someone whispers to the others. They all nod in agreement watching her happily clean the kitchen.

#mortal kombat x reader #mk reptile #syzoth x reader #reptile x reader #mortal kombat

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chaotic-orphan · 5 months

Text

Intoxicating Fear (VIII)

A visitor comes a-knocking

Dedicated to @xxgalgurlxx for their lovely comments and to everyone who comments before or enjoys this series! It got number one on the poll on my blog so really, thank you for reading <3 and Happy New Year!

Read part one here

Continued from this part here

*~*~*~*~*

Kit woke to a knock at his door. He ignored it, thinking it was just Ambrose come to fucking gloat about Kit being under his thumb or threatening to get Kit to murder all his friends.

You know, the normal stuff.

Kit only realised his mistake when Ambrose barged into his room, slightly ruffled as if he were worried.

“Kit? You in there?”

Hope bloomed like rot in Kit’s stomach at the sound of Superhero’s voice.

Superhero’s voice.

At Kit’s front door.

Kit glanced at Ambrose briefly before jumping out of bed and sprinting towards his bedroom door. Ambrose caught him around the waist, but Kit shoved him away and kept running. Kit cleared his bedroom door, adrenaline fuelling his every movement. The shortest path to the front door was through his couch, so Kit vaulted over it as he ran towards the door where Superhero stood on the other side waiting, his saviour.

If he could reach the door before Ambrose, he could be free.

Kit’s hand wrapped around the door handle before Ambrose’s chilling power flooded Kit, and he collapsed suddenly like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. Whatever Kit had done, he did it right. Kit’s body grew heavier than an anvil, but he kept his hand on the door handle to his apartment as he fell to the floor. The last thing Kit saw before his brain turned off was Superhero’s concerned eyes blinking down at Kit as he pushed the front door open and if he could’ve, Kit would have smiled.

Instead, the darkness swallowed him whole and Kit drifted into Ambrose’s forced abyss of sleep for the first time without fear.

*~*~*~*~*

When Kit woke up again, he was in his bed, head pounding with the thunderous headache that always came after Ambrose's power forced him to sleep. Kit opened his eyes but quickly shut them again, groaning at how bright the light was in the room.

“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit’s heart hammered in his chest at the sound of his voice. He was still here; Ambrose didn’t stop him. “Hey, Kit it’s me. You’re okay.”

“Is he awake?” Ambrose.

Kit jerked up but groaned again, his entire upper body aching with the effort. He didn’t even get two inches up before collapsing onto the bed again. Kit couldn’t even form the words to speak, to warn Superhero about Ambrose.

Someone settled down next to Kit, the bed dipping with the weight. Kit risked opening his eyes only to meet Ambrose’s dark eyes and too red lips smiling down at him. The face that haunted his dreams. Ambrose was holding a glass of water in his hand and reached a cold hand under Kit’s head and tipped it up until Kit’s lips met the edge of the glass.

“You are not going to tell Superhero anything,” Ambrose’s voice echoed in Kit’s mind. Kit tried to pull away, to protest and warn Superhero that Omen was right there in front of him, but his body wouldn’t respond. Refused to even twitch away. “You will tell Superhero that you’re sick, that we’re childhood friends, and I am here to help you recover.”

Kit felt the compulsion weigh him down, and tears sprung to his eyes at the helplessness of his situation.

Superhero was here.

Is here!

Right here. In Kit’s house, in his room!

Now was the only time that Kit could tell him, warn him, escape from Omen.

His one and only chance was sitting by Kit’s bedside, but he couldn’t do anything except exactly what Ambrose wanted him to do.

Ambrose pulled the glass away from Kit’s lips and put the back of his hand on Kit’s forehead. “Say thank you,” Ambrose told Kit, his command echoing in Kit’s head.

Kit tried… he really tried to say nothing. To swallow the words that were crawling up his throat, but he came out anyways, raspy and raw.

“Thank you,” Kit said with a slight cough.

Ambrose frowned. “You still have a slight temperature, Kit. Maybe we should take the blankets off.”

Kit protested with a meek, “no,” but Ambrose took them off anyways.

“It’s for your own good, Kit. I know you’re cold but if we don’t get your temperature down, you’ll be in trouble.”

Kit was trembling alright, but it wasn’t from some made up sickness that Ambrose said he had. Kit was trying to fight Ambrose’s compulsion with every fibre of his being, but he couldn’t do more than pull against it while Ambrose pushed him to obey.

“I’ll go get a wet cloth,” said Ambrose, standing from the bed and putting the glass on the table. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Kit watched Ambrose leave and waited until the door closed to turn his attention to Superhero. Superhero smiled warmly at Kit.

“Superhero…” Kit said, his voice crackling.

“I’m here, Kit. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“Doesn’t—” Kit heaved, rolling his heavy body over in the bed. “Doesn’t ma— matter. Ambrose—”

“Doesn’t matter?” Superhero asked, moving closer to Kit and pushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “Of course it matters, Kit. I’m just sad that you didn’t tell me you were sick. I would have understood.”

“No,” Kit moaned, rolling out of the bed and onto the floor with a hard thud. “Ambrose—”

“I’m here,” Ambrose said from the doorway. Ambrose rushed in and handed the cloth to Superhero who placed it on Kit’s bedside locker. Ambrose went to Kit’s side, Superhero quickly joining them on the floor. “Kit, you can’t keep doing this.”

“What’s wrong?” Superhero asked, helping Ambrose get Kit back onto the bed.

“No,” Kit moaned. “No, no.”

“His fever has been coming and going the last two days. He starts speaking gibberish. Yesterday he said he was part fish,” Ambrose told Superhero with a laugh as he settled Kit in the middle of the bed. “There we go. Can you hand me the cloth?”

Superhero nodded, grabbing the cloth off the table and pressed it into Ambrose’s hand. Ambrose put it on Kit’s forehead, who groaned and protested and weakly grabbed Ambrose’s wrist trying to push him off.

Kit narrowed his eyes at Ambrose, chest heaving with the effort as he spat: “don’t— nngh… fucking touch me!”

Blue electricity sparked from Kit’s hand to Ambrose’s wrist. Ambrose quickly retracted his hand to his chest with a soft gasp. Superhero glanced at Kit then Ambrose with a half-smile.

“Does he keep doing that?” Superhero asked.

Ambrose narrowed his eyes at Kit slightly.

“No, that one’s new,” Ambrose said in a way that would seem perfectly innocent to an onlooker like Superhero, but Kit knew would mean a world of pain for him when Superhero left.

If Superhero left.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear Kit,” Ambrose cooed, voice hard and cold as it pierced Kit’s mind with a sudden pain. “Superhero will be leaving shortly and when he does, oh Kit, sweet Kit. I have been nice to you for far too long. I think you forget exactly what I can and will do to you.”

Kit glared at Ambrose through half lidded eyes, though he doubted it had the terrifying effect that Kit desired it to.

“No more using your powers, little Kit,” Ambrose ordered, the compulsion taking root almost instantly.

“I hate you,” Kit thought mutinously.

Ambrose smiled. “Oh, I know. Just be good for me now and I won’t punish you as hard as I intend to later.”

Kit reached for his power anyways and found a vacuous mass in his body that was locked down tight leaving Kit powerless and at Ambrose’s mercy again.

“Kit,” Superhero said. Kit blinked and glanced to his left to see Superhero’s sympathetic eyes. Kit had nearly forgotten he was here. Even if he was it didn’t matter. None of this mattered, not while Ambrose still has him under his thumb locked away from everything that made him… well, Kit.

Tears sprung to Kit’s eyes when he met Superhero’s, helpless and weak and impossible to hold back or control.

“Kit…” Superhero said softly, pressing a hand to Kit’s cheek and rubbing the first tear away as it fell. “It’s alright. I know everything must be confusing and wrong, but Ambrose and I we will stay by your side until you get better. Okay?”

Kit nodded weakly, more tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Good,” said Superhero. “Now get some rest. Ambrose and I will be just outside if you need us.”

Superhero stood and slapped Ambrose on the back reassuringly.

“Yeah, what Superhero said,” Ambrose echoed. “Try and get some sleep. Call us if you need anything.”

Kit wanted to protest: to scream and cry and rush out of bed and punch Ambrose in the face and tell Superhero the truth, but his eyelids were already pulling down over his eyes growing heavy and Kit was far too weak to resist it. Soon the darkness settled over Kit's eyes and his limbs grew heavy, and he couldn't do anything but be whisked away.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

The Orphanage (plz lemme know if you want to be added or removed <;3) - @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whatwhumpcomments @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @princess-bubble-blossom @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations

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assortedseaglass · 10 months

Text

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Twenty

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Strong Language, Smut, Violence, Depictions of War, Mentions of Death, Injury Detail, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Depictions of Reproductive Health, Suicidal Thoughts, World on Fire Spoilers.

Word Count: 6.1K

October 1940

The bombardment started the second he rounded the corner.

“Got time to play?”

“Maybe later, Joseph.” Joseph Mason, his older brother Albert and little sister Betty ran along the ginnel in Tom’s wake. A few of the younger children, which were Mrs Mason’s Tom didn’t know, struggled to keep up on their chubby legs.

“Haven’t you got anything else to wear?”

Betty shushed her brother. “It’s his uniform!”

“Well?” Joseph ignored her. “Haven’t you?”

“Free sweets and tram tickets with the uniform, Joseph.” Tom continued ahead, his little battalion of children trotting along beside him. He smiled.

“What’s that?” Betty pointed to the silver coin pinned to his navy shirt.

“Distinguished Service Medal.”

“Are you a hero?” Albert suddenly seemed interested. Tom smirked.

“Always was, always will be.” Thank God Bess wasn’t here to hear him say that. Or Albie. He’d have laughed himself into next week.

“What you doing here then?” said Betty.

“Hitler sunk my ship, gotta find me a new one.”

“Did you kill any Germans?” Albert was still awed by Tom as he tried to keep up.

“Loads.” Tom said, turning on his heel. The children stopped abruptly and stared up at him. A wry grin quirked the corners of Tom’s mouth. “Killed a few kids an’ all.”

They shuffled back in fear. Mrs Mason told them to keep away from Tom Bennett before the war. Now he was back, and he’d actually killed people! Joseph found his quavering voice. “What for?”

“Asking too many questions.” Tom left them behind in the ginnel and turned into the street. The smile faded from his face. The kit bag on his shoulder fell to the floor and, for a brief moment, his mind stilled. The house. What had happened to the house? Why was there rubble across the road? His mind sped up, images flashing like a zoetrope through his mind.

“Lois?” he croaked, running to the house. “Dad!?” His feet carried him up the pile of bricks scattered outside the front door, and he peered into the kitchen. The table and chairs had splintered, fragments of them remaining, and he saw it. The bomb. Its inactive shell lying before the fireplace. Pressing his face against the little glass that remained in the window, Tom looked up. His father’s iron bedframe dangled precariously from the hole in the kitchen ceiling, and above it, the cold and grey Manchester sky stared back at him.

Tom slipped as he took a step back. His chest was rising rapidly, the panic that accompanied him every day since the Exeter awakening every nerve. Blood pumped through his fingers. He balled his fists a few times to regain their feeling. Find them. He was as untethered here as he was at sea. Find them. An image, Vera in her little cot, gazing up at the ceiling as it came crashing down around her, flashed into his eyes and he rubbed it away. Find them. He slid down the rubble pile and before he’d taken his first step towards the abandoned kit bag, terror froze him once more.

The Vaughn house. It was intact. Still standing, but the windows were boarded with black-painted wood. Tom hammered on the door. “Fergal? Dot?” He waited. Nothing. Not a sound. Not a whisper.

“Fuck.” The word hissed from his mouth in panic. He grabbed his kit bag and raced to the only place he could think of. The hospital. If anything’s happened, they’ll be at the hospital. And Bess – fuck – Bess will be on shift. She would have been on shift, why would she be in Longsight? Please let her have been on shift.

“They found you a ship then?” Joseph shouted with a smile as Tom ran past. He didn’t hear. All he could think about was his family. His little family, shrinking. I can’t lose anyone else, not after mum. Not after Vic. Not after Albie. Already, the world felt smaller as he ran towards the Royal Infirmary. Through the parks, ginnels and scrapyards, the world was the hiss of his breath, the thundering of his heart and thoughts of his family. He rounded into the dockyard, sprinting towards the canal bridge that led to the city’s centre. The dockyard.

In an instant he changed direction, pelting along the dockside between engineers and labourers. Some tipped their caps to him, offering their thanks and “welcome back”, others hissed at him to get out of the way. Still, Tom thought of only one thing.

“Fergal?” He called as he pushed through the crowd of workmen. “Fergal Vaughn? Does anyone know where I can find Fergal Vaughn?”

“Tom?” The rasped Cork brogue cut through the clatter of metal. Tom launched himself at the squat man in relief, his arms wrapping around Fergal’s broad shoulders. Fergal barely had time to comprehend this out of character display before Tom pulled back and unleashed a tirade of questions.

“The house-I-I went home and the house-” Fergal placed his hands on Tom shoulders to calm him but the young man continued. “Bess? Bess? Is she ok? And Dot? And-”

“They’re all fine, my boy. Just fine.” Fergal rubbed his shoulders soothingly. “It was the same strike as what got your place. Only blew the windows out, thank the Lord.”

“And Lois and Dad? And the baby? Where are they? I-I don’t know where to go,” Tom’s voice cracked, thinking of his childhood home destroyed, the last place that held any concrete memories of his mother. Through his panic, he saw a piece of Fergal’s lightness dissipate. The round and reddened face of Fergal Vaughn, the man Tom had known since childhood, displayed that one thing he had never seen cross it before. Pity.

“Oh, my dear boy.” Fergal said softly, taking Tom by the hand to sit between the metal sleepers and tell him everything.

Bess was in no mood to stop and chat. Sister Stern had given her a bollocking for not changing the beds quickly, and Joan was in a foul mood because the soldier she was seeing had dumped her unceremoniously. So when she approached Carver Mills to see Mrs Russo waving, her cigarette leaving a trail of smoke in the air, Bess groaned. The silk scarf wrapped about Mrs Russo’s head took flight on the autumn wind and bustled towards Bess’ feet, and she knew a conversation was unavoidable.

“Ta, Bess.” Mrs Russo said brightly, holding her hand out for the scarf.

“Hiya,” Bess rubbed her eyes and fussed with her keys.

“Had a good shift?” Mrs Russo’s voice was offensively loud.

“Yes, fine.” Bess shifted uncomfortably under Mrs Russo’s watchful gaze and tried to squeeze past the round woman to reach the door.

“I’m expecting best behaviour from you girls while I’m away at my daughter’s,” Mrs Russo said, tying the scarf around her permed hair. “Caught Joan trying to sneak in that new beau of hers-”

Bess pushed the door open wearily. “They aren’t together anymore.” Mrs Russo paused her bustling.

“Poor girl. I’ll see if I can get some chocolate at the corner shop. Try and cheat my ration book.” She winked and tottered away. “Ta-ra, Bess.”

The door to the old mill swung shut heavily behind Bess, and she trudged up the stone stairs towards her flat. A glint of light cut the gloomy stairwell in two, and Helen poked her head out of the door to her own flat.

“Bess! A few of us are going to The Crown tonight for a lock in, do you want to-” She stopped as Bess turned to face her. “Christ, you look awful. Tough day?” Bess could do naught but nod. “Tell you what. You stay home and rest, I’ll take Joan. Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else and all that. There’s bound to be a desperate soldier looking for an easy girl.” She laughed and closed the door.

A moment later and Bess was in the welcome peace of her little home. Smalls were strung across the kitchen on a length of rope. The morning’s empty cup of tea still sat on the rickety table beside an old copy of Vogue, the christening dress she was making for Vera abandoned on the armchair by the window. Since the start of the war, fabric was hard to come by, lace and silk especially. Douglas let Bess take a cutting from Marie’s wedding dress. She wanted something from each side of the family, and parting Robina from her store of antique lace had been a challenge, but she persevered. Still, the gown was almost complete. Bess removed her nurse’s wimple and placed it by the garment, running her fingers over the ivory silk. Darling Douglas. The christening couldn’t come soon enough. After everything, Lois needed some happiness. It would be even better with Tom on leave. Bess’ heart skipped and she padded to the bedroom. She perched by her simple vanity, a mirror balanced on a school writing desk, kicked off her shoes and took the stack of Tom’s letters out from the drawer.

October 16th can’t come soon enough. Lois’ food, Cora and Dot making a fuss. Little Vera and you.

The last letter was dated early September. Bess knew Tom couldn’t write all the time. He was either too busy onboard or, on occasion, they were prevented from writing during particular missions. Her only knowledge that he was ok were the continued reports of the Navy’s skirmishes on the wireless and in the newspaper. The HMS Keith had sunk, but Lois received a telegram that Tom was fine and awaiting the next ship home. Bess looked at the calendar on her wall. October 15th. Tomorrow. God willing, he’d be here with her, tomorrow. Instinctively, her hand reached for the photograph of Tom, now propped against the mirror. Every morning and every night, he watched her in sepia as she dressed and undressed. She kissed it and, placing it back, caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Helen was right. She looked awful. The swift removal of her wimple caused tufts of the hair to stick up at odd angles. The uniform she wore was bloodied and dirty. Her hands, hard now from hours work at the hospital, were grubby. She wiped them on her face. Her dark eyes were framed by circles of purple and grey, and her usually plump cheeks were gaunt and pale. The only thing that remained were her full and pink lips. Against the dullness of her skin, they looked garish. Bess sighed and one by one removed her hair pins. Watching her hair come undone, in some places curled from the pins, others straight and frizzy, she wondered what it was that had so changed the Longsight boys towards her. How she went from “witch” to something desirable. What drove Walter Watson from bullying her to forcing himself upon her behind the Palais.

It wasn’t as though she had changed all that much from those difficult years to now. When presented with the option to speak or remain silent, Bess always chose the latter. That is, unless someone cast insult over her chosen few. Then, as Cora said, “there’ll be none so fierce as Bess on judgement day”. She wasn’t as kind as Cora, with her thoughtful gestures and selflessness. Nor did she have her gentle charm and beauty. Dot, on the other hand, was an entity unto her own design. Despite her tendency for the flighty and sudden outbursts of judgement, wherever Dot went, the sun seemed to follow. Funny and light, the world seemed brighter in her company. Bess still stared at her reflection. What did she bring? A haughty quietness that most found intimidating? Her use as a seamstress and pianist? Over her shoulder, she caught sight of the photograph pinned to the wall by her bed.

It was at Albie’s birthday celebration in the summer. Dot had taken it with the camera Harry gave Bess in the spring. In it, Tom and Bess stood side by side. His arm was gripped tightly around her middle, pulling her to him and highlighting the slightness of her waist and fullness of her hips. The blouse she wore, tucked into her slacks, curved around her breasts. At her ear, Tom was whispering something sinful; Bess could tell by the girlish giggle captured in celluloid. For the first time, she was embarrassed by the image. Her womanhood was so wantonly on display. So, that’s what the boys saw in her, that summer she came back from Manchester.

“Never thought I’d be in this position with Bess Vaughn. That little freak from school.”

Vomit rose to her mouth as the memory of stale smoke and alcohol flooded her nose. Bess’ eyes snapped from the image to her reflection. Gaunt face, dark eyes, grey skin.

“Then you came back from Manchester with this. And these-”

Bess rubbed her hand across the bodice of her uniform. Her chest felt tight. Heavy and not her own.

“This is all you’re good for, Bess Vaughn, all you will ever be good for.”

The memory of Walter’s assault on her was plaguing Bess of late. With Tom at war and Douglas-. And Douglas-. Her two defenders were gone. At night, alone when she imagined Tom with her and her hand slid beneath her nightdress, Bess recalled the way his neck strained as he screamed at the man. The crack of his fist against skin. But no sooner had the memory of Tom’s dominance warmed her cheeks, chest, thighs, was Walter’s sweaty face swimming into view and ruining her bliss.

“This is all you’re good for, Bess Vaughn, all you will ever be good for.”

Her near lifeless eyes blinked back at her in the worn mirror and, body humming with hatred, she pushed herself away from her reflection. The stool fell backward with a thunk onto the wooden floor and Bess stood motionless. The day had been full of misery at every turn. Bloodied soldiers to be sewn back together. Wrecked buildings pouring onto Manchester’s streets. Her own self-loathing. Too tired to drag her body to bed, Bess hovered at the centre of her room, lulled into an imitation of sleep somewhere between lucidity and nightmare.

Downstairs, the front door of the mill crashed closed, and she jolted from her half-sleep. Joan was obviously back from the infirmary and still in a foul mood. Bess sighed, ran a hand through her tangled hair and uncovered the duvet. The clock read 6 o’clock and she hadn’t even removed her apron. Beyond the door, Joan was tearing up the stairs of Carver Mills, her heels sounding more like jackboots as she pounded the steps. Bess stomped across the floor. Her hand closed around the doorhandle, ready to slam it shut-

BANG BANG BANG

She froze. From her spot in the bedroom doorway, Bess watched the front door rattle on its hinges. On tiptoe, she edged forwards. The thundering fists hammered on the door again.

BANG BANG BANG

She tried to remember if she had locked it behind her. No, of course she hadn’t. Shit. Only Mrs Russo and the other nurses had access to the flats; there was no need to lock it until curfew. Not even Helen or Joan, in her anger, would bang down the door. Bess rushed forwards, ready to bar the intruder as best she could. She knew there was little she could do to stop them. Even with her nurses’ strength and steeliness, an intruder would overpower her. Walter Watson flashed across her vision. What if he was home? What if Queenie or Frank told him where to find her?

BANG BANG BANG

Hang on. An intruder wouldn’t knock. Again, she froze, this time in confusion. The last knock had barely rung out when, as if in slow motion, Bess watched the handle turn. The door flew open and the person on the other side stormed in.

It was like watching a cat stalk its prey. The whites of his eyes burned like a wild beast’s, the blue at their icy centre darted around the room madly until they landed on her. They widened, then narrowed. A predator locking onto its next meal. For them, everything faded from view. The peeling wallpaper, the laundry, the few scattered belongings. Everything, except for Bess. Excitement, or was it fear, fluttered in her ribcage. The pathway to her was blocked by the kitchen table and, striding towards her, he threw it aside in one swift motion. She shivered, swaying where she stood at the flex of his hands. Bess barely had time to register his thin cheeks, the lines that framed his eyes, before those same hands gripped her face hard.

“Tom-” His mouth crashed into hers. It was hard, a clash of teeth and tongue. With her words stolen, Bess grew light-headed and struggled for breath between Tom’s harsh kisses. A hand moved from her face to her neck as she tried to speak, keeping her head in place against him. The other fell to her waist and gripped the flesh there roughly.

“Tom, I-” He silenced her. Swallowing Bess’ words, he roughly tugged the hair fisted in his hand and bit the exposed flesh of her neck with a growl. She whimpered, hand gripping onto his shoulder for support. For something real. Surely this wasn’t real? “Tom,” His assault on her neck was rough and through it, still Bess struggled to speak. “Tom, I thought-I thought you weren’t back ‘til tomorrow-”

He ignored her. The hand holding her waist moved to grope the fullness of her bottom and pull her harder against him. The strength of the action forced the breath from Tom’s chest in a huff as, overwhelmingly, his world became Bess. The scent of her sweat. Old perfume. Her pathetic whimpers. The small hands clawing at his body. The swell of her breasts pressed against his chest. The ripe flesh of her bottom. The smell of her sex. He was an animal on the hunt. Uncontrollable. Terrified. Surviving. Hungry. He bit the meat of her shoulder and she cried out, at last pushing him away. Tom’s hands flew once more to the sides of her face and held her in his vice-like grip.

They stood watching each other. Beneath the furrow of Tom’s brow, the hard crease of his forehead, the usually bright eyes that Bess so adored, always full of mirth and mischief, were desperate. If she looked closely, she swore she could make out tears, taunting him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, the air passing through his flared nostrils. The line of his mouth was shut firm, though swollen from the way he kissed her, and his jaw- fuck, that jaw, was set hard and strong. Bess should have been worried. Scared even. Instead, her heart flooded with unease.

The dark eyes that Tom so adored, always full of certainty and knowing, were searching. Not disgusted by his depravity, or the violent lust with which he needed her. Her hands wound up his arms and grasped the hands still on her face, and Tom watched as the same emotion that had washed over Fergal’s face, washed over Bess. Pity.

He didn’t need fucking pity. He needed stability. Comfort. Home. Something real. One of Bess’ thumbs stroked the side of his hand and he snapped at its tenderness. Tom brought his face to hers, devouring her in a hungry kiss. He walked them backwards until Bess hit the bedroom door. Breaking momentarily from her lips, Tom bent down, a hand sliding up one of Bess’ stockinged legs, and hitched it around his waist. She barely had time to steady herself before he thrust his groin against hers, his hard length pressing against her through the sturdy cotton of his bell bottoms.

Still, he didn’t say a word. As Tom’s hands roamed greedily across her backside, her hips, her breasts, Bess tried not to think about his silence. It was true, she had imagined the devouring ferocity of what having him would be like when he returned home. But each time, it was bookended with tenderness. Whispered adorations and gentle devotions. Not this…anger. The first prickle of fear ran over her. Not at what he would do, but why he was doing it. She tried to reach out to him. To caress his face or run her hand through his hair. He batted it away, gripping her wrist and pinning it to the door as, with ferocity, he ground his hips into hers. The movements were hard and desperate. Whether by the hand caught beneath his bruising grip, or the urgency with which he rubbed his clothed length against her, Bess’ mind went blank and she moaned. At last, Tom spoke.

“Fuck.” His head lolled to nuzzle at her neck, and when she met his hips with the thrusting of her own, he growled. He could take no more of this. He lifted Bess over his shoulder and kicked the bedroom door open. It banged against the wall, and when Bess shushed him, he ignored her. Tom threw her down onto the bed and knelt between her parted legs. Without hesitation he tore at her uniform. Tom pulled the apron so hard its bow gave away, and he tossed it aside. His hands fisted her layers of skirt to reach her suspenders. He unhooked them roughly and pulled down Bess’ woolen stockings. The second ripped, and through the haze of her increasing arousal, Bess noted that they’d need darning. The thought vanished when Tom pushed her knees away and rolled her suddenly onto her front.

“Tom-” Whatever she was going to say died in her throat at the sound of ripping fabric and buttons hitting the floor. Tom tore the back of her bodice open, kissing the skin there as he pushed the sleeves away from her shoulders. Bess slipped out of her uniform, squealing when Tom let go of her. Her body fell forward onto the bed and he roughly pulled the skirt away from her legs. Bess was near nakedness now, and excitement warmed the apex of her thighs. When Tom pushed her small chemise over her bottom and smacked the skin there, she burned.

“On your knees.” His voice was low and cracked, as though his throat were full of gravel. Her cunt clenched. Immediately, obediently, Bess pushed her body off the bed. She was too slow for Tom. He grabbed her by the hips and wrenched her towards him. Resting on all fours, Bess tried to look over her shoulder. Tom pushed her face away. “Don’t look at me.” The darkness of his order made her shudder. She faced forward, toward the damp-stained wall and the photograph of her and Tom. The one she’d been gazing at mere moments before he arrived.

“This is all you’re good for, Bess Vaughn, all you will ever be good for.”

No. She shook Walter’s words from her mind. This was Tom, not Walter. Rough and angry and needy, yes. But Tom. Not Walter.

Tom’s hands rested on the apples of Bess’ backside, and she felt him lean his weight there a moment. Heard him hit the ground. He was kneeling, wrenching the now soaked knickers she wore down her thighs and, before she could comprehend it, lapping greedily at her core. How long they stayed there, with Tom’s arms wrapped around her thighs as he worshipped her cunt, Bess couldn’t say. Only that with every grunt of his throat, every suckle at her sex, every eager flash of his tongue against her folds, the tension in her abdomen increased. The worry she could not put aside, did the same.

If the callous and unashamed way Tom devoured Bess caused her arousal and anxiety to grow, his next movement all but obliterated any thought of him regaining his senses. With one last smack to her bottom, Tom departed. Bess’ thighs clenched. His sudden absence was frustrating. Infuriating even. She knew she needn’t wait long for him, though. Atop the mussed bedding, the navy of his uniform shirt landed. A thud on the ground indicated he had abandoned his boots, and the hush of fabric and panted breaths told Bess he was battling with his slacks. She yearned to help him. To turn around and with fast hands rid him of his last barrier of restraint. But Tom knew Bess. He’d known her long enough, well enough, to recognise her craving for control and independence. Not today. Not now. She was alive. She was here before him, bottom raised, sweating gleaming at the dip of her back, panting with need, doing whatever he asked of her. Just as she began turning her head, he ran two long fingers through her wet slit and she moaned his name, pushing backwards against his fingers for relief.

“Sheath.” Tom grunted, taking himself in hand. He was painfully hard, precum already weeping from the angry head of his cock. His eyes roamed over Bess’ exposed heat, pink and slick and waiting for him. The urge not to drive forward, full into her, was overwhelming.

“We used the last before you left,” Bess was breathless, waiting. A hard warmth brushed against her entrance and she groaned. “Please, Tom.” He wasted no time. That was the certainty that the sheath didn’t matter. One hand one the small of Bess’ back, the other gripped at the base of his cock, Tom thrust forward, heading falling at the tight heat that welcomed him. Both hands holding the flesh of her hips, Tom withdrew himself from Bess before slamming forward. Bess buried her face in the bedsheets, muffling her cry. She had missed him these last months, and though her fingers temporarily satiated her longing, nothing could prepare Bess for the sensation of Tom Bennett filling her completely.

Over and over, Tom’s hips snapped into Bess’ cunt. His sandy hair was plastered to his forehead, sweat pouring from his brow. The hands that held Bess in place were unmoving, the nails biting into her tender skin. Over and over, Bess moaned his name. When she tried to reach a hand back, desperate to touch him, Tom seized it and, body bent low across her back, held it against the bed. His breath was hot in her ear, hard with pants and grunts of what should have been desire. Between her paroxysms of pleasure, Bess thought they sounded angry.

Like all these other thoughts, they disappeared with every thrust of Tom’s cock into her. His passion was confirmed again when he gripped the auburn hair at the base of her neck and bit her pulse point. Pain fluttered through her veins and excitement lit her core. When Tom did it again, she sped towards painful release. Her hip was burning under his hand, the skin of her buttocks sore from the continued slam of his hip bones. Her back, bent and pressed against the bed, ached and the pulse of a headache crept under the spot were Tom pulled her hair taut. Tears were beginning to prickle her eyes, and when Tom pulled again on her hair, a mangled sob of pain and pleasure ripped from her throat as her walls spasmed around him.

That was it. With a final few violent thrusts, Tom spilled himself inside her. Blinding white light flashed across his eyes and his whole body seemed to crackle with electricity. This wasn’t a release of passion or love, but something more depraved. A violent shock to the system that proved he was still alive. Could still feel. He’d seen men charred beyond recognition, heard the tear of bombs through the sky and torpedoes in water. The groaning of metal as it gave way to bullets. Feared drowning, being mown down or else ripped limb from limb by enemy explosives. Come home to find his childhood didn’t exist and missed the death of his father, years after he watched is mother slowly succumb to nothingness.

Tom looked sideways at the body beneath him. Though her face was half-hidden in the bed, hair frizzy and in disarray, there was no mistaking the tear tracks that ran down Bess’ face. Her breath was ragged and erratic, the small whimpers she made so different to her usual sounds of pleasure. Tom pulled out of her suddenly and though she didn’t move, she gasped. He looked at her lying there, so still and vulnerable. With tentative hands, he caressed her legs and knelt on the bed to lie beside her body. She didn’t look at him, even turned away once he had brushed the hair from her face and, crumbling with shame, Tom buried his face in her neck and began to cry.

7 o’clock. The sun had just descended below the Manchester skyline and only Tom and Bess’ laboured breathing could be heard throughout the flat. Bess hadn’t moved. Not for a long while. Against his thighs, Tom could feel the gentle shake of her legs. Breath still shuddering from their exertion, her back occasionally brushed against his hard chest. The sight of her like this, quaking because of him, should have made Tom proud. But when she shivered, actually shivered, he felt nothing but disgrace. He should have ravished her when he got home. Instead, he'd used her. And she’d let him.

“Are you cold?” he whispered in her ear.

“A little, yeah.” Grabbing the quilt from the floor, Tom draped it over Bess, his warm hand beneath the patchwork rubbing lazily at her side. It was only then did she roll over to face him. Her small hand, with its long, dexterous fingers, brushed across his cheek. Tom knew she was studying him. “You’ve become a man far too quickly,” she said. Tom didn’t need her to explain. His hair was lighter, already on a stress-induced course to grey. The youthful fullness of his cheeks had gone, and now the skin stretched too tightly over his prominent cheekbones. Sometimes, when he caught sight of himself in a mirror, he could see his skeleton sitting just below the surface of his pallid skin. He knew too, that the hardness had settled not just about his face, but in his soul. War had sunk its terrible claws into him, and the man he swore he’d never become, his father, was beginning to appear. Tom brushed some sweat-stuck hair from Bess’ forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” She continued to stroke his face, and Tom placed a palm there to stop the action. If she carried on with this gentleness, he’d cry again.

“I just had to make sure you were real,” At this, Bess laughed.

“What do you mean?”

Tom sat up, leaning on his elbow and, distracted by the hair wrapped around his finger, hurried his words. “When I saw the house, I just panicked-And I didn’t know where to go and then I went to your dad-I was thinking-I was gonna come here but I didn’t know if you’d still-and then I went through the dockyard and your dad-your dad told me everything-and when he said you were ok I-I,” he took a shaking breath. “I had to come and see for myself. That you’re still here.”

Bess was silent. Her eyes darted about his worried face, unsure of what he meant. “Did you think something had happened?” It was Tom who looked confused now.

“Bess, I went home and the fucking house had been blown up and neither you or my family were anywhere to be seen.”

“But, I thought-”

“No. I didn’t know.” Tom spat. His anger was flaring again as he swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his bell bottoms. What he was planning to do, he didn’t know, and when Bess quietly said his name, he deflated, slumping back onto the bed. “I didn’t know,” he said weakly, and immediately Bess was at his side, rubbing circles on his back and kissing his bullet wound scar. He collapsed against her, and slowly she pulled him back under the covers with her, his head resting against her naked chest.

There was nothing to be said. What could she say? Tom Bennett had been away at war and come home to learn his father had been killed by the very thing he was fighting. As if reading her mind, Tom spoke quietly into her chest. “What’s the point? We go and fight, to keep you all safe, and it doesn’t fucking work.”

“That’s not the only reason-”

“It is for me.” Tom said firmly. “I’ve got nothing else but my family, and you. You’re what makes this bastard war worth fighting.” Bess looked down at him. At his elegant nose and furrowed brow. At his lean and muscular body curled around hers, and her heart swelled with enormous affection for Tom Bennett. She kissed his head and he settled for a while. Content to have him home, nose buried in his hair, the first comforts of sleep beckoned to Bess.

“Your dad said you were there.” Though quiet, she jumped at his voice and, swallowing the lump that appeared in her throat, she murmured that yes, she had been there. Tom chewed his lip, considering his next question. After Bess, it was all he had thought about since Fergal told him of that night’s events. “What did he look like?”

Bess froze. “Tom, you don’t need-” He cut her off.

“It can’t be anything worse than what I imagine.”

He had a point. Gripping one of his hands in hers, she told him about the events immediately after the bomb detonated over his childhood home.

“Dadda was trying to get us back to the shelter, it was difficult to see because of all the smoke, but when the ambulance arrived, I could see it was Lois and Connie. And when Dadda came out of your house, there was blood on his uniform. I didn’t know what state your dad was in, but I knew that whatever it was, Lois couldn’t see him. So me, Connie and one of the paramedics went in to get him out.”

Tom sniffled against her chest and Bess hugged him tighter.

“He looked so peaceful, Tom. I won’t lie to you and say he was perfect; a beam from the ceiling got his arm so there was a messy gash there, lots of blood, and what I assume was falling rubble had caught his head. Nothing dreadful!” she quickly said when Tom flinched. “Just a few little cuts around his face. But he was sat in his chair by the fire, newspaper hanging out of one hand. Like he’d just drifted off to sleep. Thinking of you, I expect.”

“Shut up,” Tom wiped his nose. “He was probably thinking about Mrs Chase’s smalls-”

“The sooner you realise that your dad adored you, Tom Bennett, the better!” She pinched his arm. “You know, him and Lois had a fight that day. She’d gone off to work and he was so down in the mouth about it, we said we’d look after Vera that night.” Tom said nothing and she continued. “What did Lois say when you saw her?”

“Eh?” Tom looked up at her through his long lashes.

“Lois. What did she say when you saw her?”

Tom’s arm around her waist grew tighter. “I came straight here.” Bess hid her smile from him, trying not to let her joy show as she ran her hand again through his hair.

“I think perhaps you should go and see her. Now,” Bess added when Tom tried to argue. “Tom, she’s so unhappy. Missing you, and your pa, raising little Vera alone. I suppose Dadda told you about Vernon?” Tom nodded. “Go. Now.” She kissed the top of his head and shooed him from the bed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Notes: I read an article about a gunner who fought in the Battle of River Plate getting the Distinguished Service Medal, so I figured Tom would get one too. The HMS Keith actually sunk during the evacuation of Dunkirk but for the sake of the story, I made its sinking a little later.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @heimtathurs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @allthefandomtherapy @reblogedworks @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel@greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring @fangirlninja67 @evita-shelby @cherievictore @shmexie @ewanmitchellcrumbs

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x ofc #world on fire #ewan mitchell x reader #the seamstress & the sailor

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bi-bard · 1 year

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When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 3,303 words

Warning(s): **HEY! LOOK RIGHT HERE!** mention of S.A/Assault (within original story's context), mention of abduction

Summary: (Y/n) experiences their first day at the Little Palace. They are confronted with the weight of their new responsibilities, starting with being presented to the king. They also learn just how difficult it will be to work with General Kirigan and the other Grisha.

Author's Note: Shout out to my friend who sent me a picture of a few pages of the book to help inspire a part of this imagine. (we should all love my friend because she is the reason that this OC was continued and the story got developed)

Also, Kaz isn't in this, but Kaz is the romantic interest.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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

I didn't sleep much during my first night at the Little Palace.

I barely even touched the bed after I woke up there the first time. No, my first sign of defiance was my choice to refuse to go to bed as Kirigan told me to. I was not a pet. I refused to be treated as one.

I had a lot of night left to waste.

I contemplated the letters that I would have written to the Crows if I ever trusted a person here enough to believe my written words wouldn't be used against me.

Saints, I missed them all so much more than I ever could have considered.

I don't know when the tiredness overcame my stubbornness.

All I know is that one moment, I was sitting at the table with my jaw clenched and a glare fixed on my face. The next, I was waking up, cheek resting on my folded arms on top of the table.

I felt my heart drop as I looked around the room.

I had been hoping that it would all be some kind of twisted dream. I didn't want this to be real. I wanted to be home. To wake up to some kind of familiarity. Back in the Crow Club so I could play cards with Jesper or with Inej while she tried desperately to teach me how to throw as well as her or even just being in Kaz's office while we bickered over some part of whatever plan he was making.

I found myself grinning at the thought of Kaz.

Saints, that boy consumed every thought I had. It was getting unfair at this point. Especially when I was convinced that there was no world where he would see me in nearly the same light that I saw him.

My dwelling on my senseless pining was brought to an abrupt halt by the door suddenly getting slammed open.

"Excuse me-"

The woman leading the charge cut me off, "Saints... have you ever bathed?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, "The abduction didn't exactly leave me much time to pamper myself."

A sigh escaped her before she snapped her fingers at some of the people that had followed her. "Fetch my kit."

Two of the other people grabbed my arms, pulling me into the small bathroom attached to the room.

Once they tried to pull my clothes off, I shoved them away. They went to grab me again, but I simply pushed them again.

"Grab me again and you'll be the first ones to witness my 'gift'," I snapped. "I am perfectly capable of washing and dressing myself."

"Everyone out!" the original woman yelled.

She found her place in a chair in the corner while everyone filled out.

I crossed my arms, my disgust clearly written on my face. I nodded to the door, trying to motion for her to leave. She just tilted her head and smirked at me.

"Unbelievable," I muttered.

I yanked my clothes off and climbed into the tub. One of the lingering workers grabbed my clothes before running off.

The water was warm. The sponge was nicer than I expected it to be. I took a deep breath through my nose. It smelled like something sweet. I couldn't place it.

"You are to be presented to King Pyotr in an hour," the woman said as I scrubbed at my skin.

"Excuse me?"

"You are going to be presented to the king in an hour," she repeated. "I am here to ensure that you are presentable."

"And that includes watching me bathe?"

"What if you were to drown?"

It was pure sarcasm, but I wouldn't be surprised if General Kirigan had sent her to actually ensure that it didn't happen. I just huffed and rinsed my skin off.

I pulled myself up from the tub. The woman walked up behind me and offered me a robe to cover myself. I pulled it on quickly, tying as tight a knot as I could.

It was annoyingly comfortable. Softer than any fabric that I had been given the fortune to touch. But I would rather burn then and there than let anyone in this place see that.

She brought me back to the main room, stopping to touch my chin and inspect my skin in the natural light coming through the window.

"What are you doing," I asked.

"Seeing how much work I need to complete in our very limited time together," she replied. "I should thank you for giving me an excuse to force out that little group that trails behind me. Much easier to do my work when I have no additional interruptions."

"You could always thank me by helping me get out of here," I replied.

She let out an amused huff. "You're funny."

"Wasn't joking."

She reached up and dragged her thumb along my cheekbone.

I felt something shifting under my skin. As if something was scratching and hoping to get out. I yanked myself away from her, reaching up to cover what she had touched.

"What did you do?" I snapped.

"My job," she answered. She motioned to the mirror.

I walked over and glanced at my reflection.

There had been this scar on my cheek. It was from back when I started working with Kaz. I had tried to kick out a man that didn't want to leave the Crow Club just yet. In response to my instructions, he hit me. It wouldn't have scarred if I hadn't picked at it. I could still hear Kaz snapping at me to stop messing with it whenever he caught me.

The scar was gone now. I touched the skin, hoping to find some indent. Nothing.

I turned back to the woman, who looked incredibly proud of herself.

"Healer?"

"Tailor," she corrected. "Rare. Not nearly as special as you, but... still rare."

Her next move was the fresh wounds. The ones that were a direct result of Kirigan's abduction plan and my fight against it.

"I'm Genya, by the way," she introduced. "(Y/n), right? Feels wrong to only call you the Sun Summoner."

I just nodded.

"I was told you were from Ketterdam. Well, you were hiding there. What was that-"

"Genya," I stopped her. "I understand that you are trying to be polite and friendly, but I need you to understand that I am here against my will. I am doing exactly what I need to do to survive and try to ensure the safety of those I care for. I have no interest in forming connections."

She paused for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was truly shocked or merely attempting to call my bluff.

"Fair enough," she finally replied. She reached down and grabbed my hand.

Old scars from the rare moments when I would get caught pickpocketing. Mostly small scars from nails scratching me as they grabbed my hands.

I didn't stop Genya's work until she got to the scar on my arm. I snagged her wrist, gruffly shaking my head.

She raised an eyebrow as she pulled back. "Sentimental?"

I didn't respond to her question.

Her smirk just grew.

Yes. It was me being sentimental.

The scar was fairly long and sat on the outside of my forearm. Inej had tried to help me learn to throw knives without me stabbing myself. I had thrown a knife at our makeshift target but had the handle hit instead of the blade. I had ducked and shielded my face, so when the knife came back, it slid over my arm and left the cut.

After making sure that I was okay, Inej had a tough time keeping it together.

Sitting there and watching her try to cover up her laugh was one of the first times that I felt like I had truly connected with her.

I was proud to be sentimental about it. Just not here.

"Sit," she nodded to the seat. "I'll be done before you know it."

I took a deep breath before listening to her.

She was being honest about that much. I had managed to get lost in my thoughts enough for it to feel like mere seconds before she was having stand so I could get dressed.

The great outfit for me to meet the king in was... the same outfit that I had been wearing when I was taken from Ketterdam.

The only added detail was a ridiculous veil meant to shield my face from everyone else.

"That seems ridiculous," I said. Genya raised an eyebrow at me. "You just want to put me in the same clothes?"

"They suit you well," she replied.

I started pulling on the clothes. I muttered under my breath as I did. It wasn't until I was tying up my ever-fateful boots that she spoke up again.

"We could have just left them as they were. Coated in dirt and sweat and... whatever lines the streets of Ketterdam."

I turned to her.

"You should be a little more grateful."

"Oh, you're right, how kind of you to clean the clothes that I was abducted in before forcing me to wear them to face the king," I said sarcastically.

She paused for a brief moment before responding, "Don't be silly, it's simply a recreation."

"Was that necessary?"

She raised an eyebrow at me as she placed the veil over my head. "Expect more?"

"If I was apparently so valuable, then I would imagine that having me look like... this wouldn't be appealing to your precious king."

She hummed, "Well... you don't want to attract too much attention from the king."

She said it in as light-hearted a voice as she could, but I caught her eyes before she could turn away from me to continue walking. They worried me. There was simply so much sitting there. None that she meant to show. Knowledge of some "consequence" of that attention.

It was a dark look, a sad look that I had only been allowed to see on one person's face before that moment.

Inej.

My heart fell a bit. I felt just as useless now as I did then. If I hadn't been so focused on my coldness, then I would have asked her to explain that statement a little further. I would have helped her. I would have done more than just sit there.

This is why I knew that I wasn't the saint that people wanted me to be. If I was, I would have done better. By both of them.

This wasn't the feeling of familiarity that I wanted.

Genya didn't speak on her statement more.

"He wishes to see you as something newly found," she said. "Saved from the Barrel and whatever unsavory life that he believes it offered you. He'll want to take credit for you being found."

"Like a rare animal," I replied. "New and interesting... and placed in a cage so they cannot fight back."

"A very comfortable cage," Genya shrugged.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on."

I followed Genya out of my room, letting her lead me down the hall.

We walked in silence through most of the halls. I wanted to get a grasp of the layout. I knew that I would need to have it memorized for later.

I spotted a library, where the nearest staircases, and the potential exits.

There was no denying that the Little Palace was a gorgeous place. It was designed to treat the Grisha as nothing less than almost-royalty. Separate yet superior. If only their rise to power didn't involve shoving so many into the dirt on the way up.

Genya tried to explain who would be at the event today. I didn't pay much mind to it. It was rude, yes, but I don't think I can be faulted for not being the kindest of individuals considering the circumstances.

"Genya," I turned my eyes forward at the sound of one of the few voices that could make me truly sick to my stomach. Kirigan. "I believe I can take over the guiding from here."

She nodded to both of us before walking away. I pushed the veil off of my face.

"Shall we," Kirigan motioned toward the door. I walked a few steps ahead of him. "The Grand Palace may be the ugliest building I've ever seen."

I simply hummed in response. Polite, but not going out of my way to continue the ever-so-interesting conversation.

"How was your rest?"

I didn't respond, still admiring the outside of the Grand Palace, the Little Palace, and the courtyard in between.

"You do know that you can talk to me," he continued.

"Thank you for the permission," I replied. "If I ever have the desire to accept your offer, I'll be certain to inform you."

He grabbed my wrist, pulling us both to a stop and forcing me to turn and face him. I flinched away from him. I never thought that I would miss the feeling of Kaz tapping my shins with his cane to do the same thing, yet here I was. Still thinking of him, even when I was about to face the king of Ravka.

"What," I asked.

"I understand that these are not ideal circumstances-"

"You kidnapped me-"

"I am requesting that you pretend to have some understanding of how important this is," he said. "How important you are. I'm asking you to behave like an adult."

"Promise to do the same?" I tilted my head. "I am sorry but there is going to be no form of cooperation here if you cannot even truly accept that what you did to me was wrong."

"Who are you to tell me the difference between right and wrong? Last time I checked, you were part of some gang of lowlifes before I found you."

I clenched my fists. Again, choose your battles at the right time.

"Behave yourself," he scolded me. "We are going to meet the king. I am going to present you, you will show your powers, and the king will allow me to keep you here for training. Then, we will tear down the Fold together.

"We are officially too far down this path for us to turn back and question how we got here. You may not believe me, but I am trying to do what is best for us. For you, for me, for all of Ravka. Even those little Crows of yours."

"Don't speak of them," I snapped. "Never speak of them. You have no right to hold their names on your tongue."

A smirk pulled at Kirigan's lips. "I admire your stubbornness. I just wish it were applied in the place that truly needed it."

I rolled my eyes.

"I will earn your trust as best I can," he continued. "For now, I am asking you to pretend that I have already earned it. They will need to see that if they are ever going to believe that we can tear the Fold down."

I took a deep breath and pulled the veil back down over my face.

"Thank you-"

"Save it."

We walked to the Grand Palace in silence.

We were followed inside by guards and a collection of other Grisha.

The hall felt packed as we walked in. I never thought that I was one who feared attention, but I hadn't truly experienced it on such a scale. I had gone from completely hidden to completely known in a night. It was enough to churn anyone's stomach.

I stopped next to Kirigan in the middle of the room. I took a breath before lifting the veil from other my face. Someone took it from my hand. I nodded to them.

The crowd was only worse without the obstruction to my sight. And now I couldn't how desperately I wanted to close my eyes and hide from it all.

"I thought they'd be taller," the king said immediately.

I took a breath, keeping my attitude to myself. I felt Kirigan's eyes shift to me for just a moment. As if he were checking on my behavior like a parent does with a child.

"Good morning," the queen added awkwardly.

"Good morning, your highness," I replied, nodding my head in respect.

"So polite," she gushed. "Considering where you've been living, of course."

I wondered how much of Inej's throwing lessons had properly stuck with me. "Thank you, your highness."

Kirigan spoke up before I had a chance to properly introduce myself, "They are (Y/n) (Y/l/n). The Sun Summoner, moya tsaritsa. They will change the future."

I felt his eyes turn to me again.

"Starting now."

He lifted his hand, drawing in two waves of shadow from either side of the crowd. It filled the room, covering any ounce of light. He stepped to the side, facing me fully.

I turned my eyes up to the shadows surrounding me. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and drew the sun in.

A ball formed in my hands. I cast it up into the center of the shadow.

It glimmered as the light tore it down.

I heard the applause before I opened my eyes. When I did, the king had stood from his seat, leading the audience's response. I grinned at him, nodding as a quiet sign of appreciation.

Kirigan stepped over again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Asking a little early," I whispered back to him.

"How long will they need," the king asked, turning to Kirigan.

"Destroying the Fold is no easy feat," he explained. "It is possible that (Y/n) may not have the ability to complete the task alone. I request that they remain with me in the Little Palace to train. Undisturbed."

"Then train them quickly," the king replied. "Our wars have been a noble pursuit, but this chat about the west becoming a sovereign nation, that needs to stop. The sooner we are one country again, the better."

"I agree," Kirigan nodded. He tilted his head down. "Moi tsar."

I mimicked his bow.

He guided me to turn around, leading me back to the crowd of Grisha. He only stopped for a moment.

"Welcome home, (Y/n)."

He walked away, finding his way through the crowd to leave.

I was left with the guards and the Grisha.

The Grisha were welcoming. All of them seemed to be buzzing due to my presence and what they had just watched. I tried to be as polite as I needed to be. Nods and shaking hands and small grins. Far too many hugs. That was all that I could offer.

There was one woman who stuck out. Long dark hair with bangs. She stood perfectly straight with her shoulders rolled back enough to make her appear like a soldier.

"It's such an honor to formally meet you," she said.

I didn't have a chance to respond before I was pulled into a rough, tight hug. I barely caught sight of the smug grin on her face. I awkwardly hugged her back regardless.

"You reek of the Barrel," she muttered to me.

I chucked and leaned back just slightly, mumbling into her ear to ensure that my words were only heard by her, "And you reek of the General."

She tilted her head, grin now tighter and more forced.

I offered a sickeningly sweet grin before allowing myself to be guided out of the room by Genya, who I must've simply missed when I first arrived. She guided me back to my room, claiming that I deserved a bit of rest while waiting on my kefta to arrive.

I knew that this event was only a first step. Merely one day in what could be hundreds.

But I was okay with that.

As long as the Crows were at the end of that long line of days.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling fanfiction #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan fanfiction #general kirigan imagine #genya safin imagine #genya safin fanfiction #genya safin x reader

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leilamarie99 · 7 months

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Finn Shelby -you and Finn are sneaking about until bonnie catches you which later Tommy and your dad find out and your dad gets violent

Ever since you ,your dad,and bonnie have entered Birmingham and dad working for the peaky blinders and bonnie boxing you met Finn you 2 have been secretly dating eachother for a couple of months you haven't told your dad because he will kill Finn and Tommy would just want Finn to marry me you walked into Finn's office isiah walking out Finn getting up and closing the door and grabbing you

"I missed you last night "Finn kissing you

"I had to help bonnie with training

"when will we tell them "

"when my dad doesn't kill you he will be mad that I'm messing around with a boy let alone a peaky blinder "

"I just want to show you to the world that your mine "

"I know I just want it to be you and me as long as possible "

Finn kissing you and getting heated you about to undo his belt but got interrupted

"hey Finn have you ....seen my sister "bonnie walking in

Fuck

Finn trying to do his belt but bonnie grabbed him throwing against the class

"What the fuck " bonnie shouting

"bonnie please don't hurt him "you covering your mouth in shock

"you and him how long "

"a couple of months "

"you do you know dad's going to kill but not if I don't kill him first "punching Finn in the stomach

"bonnie please don't say anything to dad "

Walking out and chasing him along the road and out of the office

"bonnie please don't tell dad I will but I'm not ready just not yet "

"you should of told me we tell eachother everything I don't want to talk to you again stay away from me "

Bonnie walking around you grab him

"bonnie please "

"just fuck off " pushing you so you landed on the floor cutting your hand and knee

"bonnie "dad shouting walking toward you 2

"darling are you ok "

"I'm fine "

"what was that about hurting your sister like that what's going on with you 2 "

"nothing "walking off

A couple of days later bonnie was training dad was watching you walked him with Bonnie's lunch to give to him like you did everyday

"what is she doing here "

"I thought I bring you lunch "

"well I don't want it and certainly not from you " looking away sad

"right what is going on with you 2 you 2 never fight so what's happened "

"why don't you ask her your little angel "

"bonnie don't "

"what scared he will hurt funny boy "

"bonnie " you shouted

"what's Finn got to do with this "

"it's nothing dad bonnie just being silly "

"she's sleeping with him "

"what " dad looking at you

"bonnie how could you "

"Finn Finn Shelby as in Tommy Shelby's little brother"dad looking at you but out your head down looking at the floor

"FINN" dad shouted

Walking out your dad got out if the boxing ring you looked at bonnie

" thanks alot" running out after your dad knowing where he was going you got to the betting shop seeing your dad walking over to Finn and punching him loads of times

"dad no "

Arthur and Tommy dragging him off Finn you ran over to Finn and picked him up he was bleeding

"what's going on "Arthur shouted

"your brother has been messing around with my daughter "

"Finn " Polly said

"it's not like that I love your daughter I would never hurt her I promise we should of told you sooner I promise I would never hurt her "

"dad please I love him " your looking at you

" but him hunny "

"please dad "

" as long as you are happy and you if you hurt her in any way next time it will be a bullet in your head "

"I promise sir " dad walking out hugging Finn Arthur and Tommy looking at us

"you idiot" Polly said whacking Finn around the head and walking off you gave him a kiss

"well that went better then I thought " you grabbed the first aid kit helping get fixed up

Suddenly bonnie came walking in

" you got some nerve coming here have you seen what dad has done "

"I know and I am sorry I just thought you would of told me before I found outline that I was angry you normally tell me everything "

"I know and I am sorry I just didn't want you to get mad at me that's all your opinion means everything to me "

"well all I can sorry is that I am sorry the way I treated you and pushing you I didn't mean to and I really think he likes you I saw the first day we got here I just didn't want him to take my sister away that's all but your growing up now you need to experience these things "

You 2 hugging eachother Finn walking up to you

"Finn I am really sorry for all this "

"I understand she's your sister I would be protective myself "

"just so we are clear tho if you hurt I will come back here and finish the job "

"I promise "

Them hugging eachother

You walking over to Finn and hugging him

"should we go back to mine and cuddle "

"yeah " kissing finn

#by order of the peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #finn shelby imagines #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby imagines #peaky blinders imagines

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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lokisprettygirl · 10 months

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Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 32 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 33

Summary : A horrible nightmare fuels your insecurities yet again. Loki thinks he has the perfect solution but his plan is interrupted by the news of Mrs Geller's accident.

Trigger Warning: 18+, foursome (but not in the kinky manner) , HUGE Canon divergence (Just me making shit up), Dalia, Reader needs to seek professional help for her trust issues, topics dealing with cheating and falling out of love, timey wimey stuff again (yeah I didn't forget about the main plot you guys)

Note : This chapter was the most personal and pretty difficult to write but it was important for her growth.

You could hear the sound of his moans coming from his room and your heart clenched, why was he moaning that way? You weren't there with him then who was making him feel that way? You trusted him, you really wanted to believe that he won't hurt you like that but then you heard a woman's cry of pleasure and your heart stopped. You slowly opened the door to his room and found him on the bed, all bare, and he wasn't alone, and he wasn't with just one woman either.

There was Dalia in front of him, sucking his cock and making him emit those noises that you thought only you owned, your eyes welled up as you glanced at his face, you recognised that look, he was enjoying it you could tell.

"Tell me..did she ever please you like this?" Dalia asked him so he snickered, his chest was heaving in a hypnotic rhythm, you wanted to hate him , he was breaking your heart so cruelly but you couldn't stop admiring his beautiful features, he was yours, he promised to be yours then what happened? You always feared you weren't enough and all your fears had come true to life.

"Never, she couldn't please a man to save her life. She doesn't compare to you, any of you, she's beneath me and all my darlings over here, she truly means nothing to me now"

The words cut you deeply and you gasped as you could hear the sound of your own heart breaking over and over again. He looked at you finally and instead of showing the signs of feeling remorse or pity even he smiled, he felt happy as if he was free to do whatever he desired now. He turned his head and kissed Darcy, then he turned to the other side and kissed Atrishia, they all clung around his body like snakes as he pleased them just the way they wanted.

"I thought you loved me lo…why are you doing this to me?" You screamed at him, the world around you started to spin and your chest felt constricted, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't take the betrayal, he was your best friend, how could he do this to you?

"You burdened me and you bored me to death y/n, now fucking get out of here"

He spat venomously and you wanted to run away but your feet felt stuck, your body was paralyzed, you couldn't breathe, you couldn't breathe at all.....

Loud sound of the alarm made you wake up suddenly, you looked at the ceiling but your brain felt deprived of the oxygen, you felt as if you were holding on to your breath for too long. You took a deep breath as you sat up and that's when the dam broke and you burst into a fit of cries, the vivid dream was still a fresh in your head.

You could see it clearly, your Loki with those women, the cruel words that he spoke to you the way he put you down in front of them, it was just a nightmare and that made you feel slightly better but it was still the worst you had ever felt after a nightmare. What if those nightmares were to come true the way your dreams did in the previous timeline?

Once your breathing had leveled you looked at the clock and it was 3:30 already, you barely had gotten any sleep and the way you have been obsessing over the female attention he had around him you knew something like this was bound to happen.

How much reassurance did you need from him? You sighed as you pondered over the thought and got off the bed to get ready. Once you were dressed up for the day you ran to the kitchen the tower had on every floor and made yourself a cup of coffee as well as brewed black tea for Loki since none of the cafes were open and kitchen staff wasn't at work either this early in the morning.

By the time you reached Loki's room it was 4:30 already and he was getting prepped for the early morning appearance at the news channel. Thankfully Dalia wasn't there for once and you didn't want to see her face first thing after that nightmare

His makeup was already done and hair was slicked back neatly, his stylist Riva was putting the coat on him when you entered, the only reason Riva didn't intimidate you was because she was a lesbian. You felt pathetic.

"Good morning darling" he smiled as he looked at you but just by looking at your face he could tell you weren't feeling good, perhaps you didn't sleep well after Tony's birthday party. He really needed to spend a night with you, not just for you but his own peace of mind.

"Good morning sir..i brought your tea" you said as you kept the cup on his dresser.

"Thank you sweet Lady, sleep alright?" You nodded as he said that but he could read your lies. As Riva got a phone call she excused herself and made her way out of the room.

You were standing a few feet away from him as you supported your side against the closet so he tilted his head and looked at you up and down, thoroughly checking you out, a simple pair of jeans and shirt, you barely had any makeup on and even with your puffed up sleep deprived face his heart fluttered at the sight of you. To know that you belonged to him completely would never not make his heart soar and cock uncomfortable at all times.

"Come here" he said to you softly so you looked around,

"Somebody will come lo" you answered him so he walked towards you instead and cupped your cheeks to kiss you, as his lips met with yours the fear you had from the nightmare slowly started to chip away for a moment. It was just a nightmare, he'd never be so cruel to you. The feeling of relief didn't last though.

"Are you well? You can stay here if you wish to, I will talk to Dalia" he said to you so you shook your head.

"I'll do my job"

"It is my job to take care of you"

"I told you don't worry about my work.. besides I want to get the fuck out of this tower" he sighed as you said that and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Loki?" You called out his name so he hummed in response "Can you…promise me something?"

"Anything my love" he smiled, his thumb caressing your cheek before he placed them under your eye to reduce some of that puffiness with his cold touch.

"If someday, you find someone that.." you hesitated to speak your thoughts, all of a sudden your words felt stupid, your insecurities felt unwarranted. He had done nothing wrong to you.

"Someone what?" He asked firmly so you looked down.

"That makes you feel something for them, promise me that you'll tell me before you do something, promise me you'll not keep me in dark or hurt me behind my back" As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted them completely. His eyes teared up as he registered the meaning behind these words, you thought someday he'd stray away from you and cheat on you?

"I promise" he said as he took a few steps behind, tears rolled down his cheek so he wiped them away quickly. No you didn't need his promise, you wanted him to tell you that he'd never even think of doing that to you, that he'd never find someone else but he promised you instead.

You wanted to play victim and say something but as you looked at his face you realized that he wasn't trying to spite you by giving you what you asked him for, he was just hurt, deeply hurt that you'd even insinuate that. He had no intentions of ever letting you go, he thought he had made it clear with his actions but he didn't blame you either for feeling this way.

It still hurt though, the way you seemed so terrified as you asked him to promise you that he'll tell you before he cheats on you was haunting him. He wished there was a spell he could have used to rid of these insecurities you had but he knew there were no spells or potions to heal those emotional scars.

Before you could say anything the room was bustling again as Dalia arrived with the whole team, you wanted to run to him and hug him, tell him that you just wanted him to reassure you again but you felt helpless at the moment. It felt too much.

Until now Loki hadn't really done anything outside of this tower, they came to him here for every interview, press conference and photoshoots, he wasn't allowed to go out except for those missions he went on to so this national appearance was a big deal, you wanted to go with him, you were his assistant after all and you desperately needed to leave the tower but Dalia told you that you won't be required as she'll be present there. You didn't argue with her either, Loki had already left for the studio and you were supposed to go with Dalia in a different vehicle but she denied you. You turned around and made your way to your room.

As soon as Loki realised you weren't there with him he texted you immediately

His message made you feel worse, you didn't enjoy this, not at all, but at times it felt inevitable.

In the previous timeline Dalia never fell for Loki, so why did this happen this time? There were so many things different this time, you couldn't help but wonder if you were the reason for it, perhaps things weren't meant to be like this. Perhaps you had messed with fate's original plan and it was going to come back and bite you sooner or later.

Loki put the phone in his pocket, his eyes were moist, he really wanted you to be here, he knew how stressed you had been at the tower and he wanted you to come out and be with him here.

As Dalia approached him he immediately composed himself and turned to her,

"Where's my assistant?" He asked her and she shrugged as if she didn't care about the question which she probably didn't.

"What?"

"Y/n…My …assistant..where is she?" He asked her a bit more sternly this time.

"She wasn't needed here" she answered shamelessly,

"You are not to decide when I need her and when I don't, the next time you dare interfere in my matters i give you my word Dalia, I will make your life a living hel on midgard..you hear me?" She looked terrified as he said that.

"I uhhh…" her lips trembled and eyes teared up but she didn't say a word and he didn't feel bad about her reaction at all, he knew he was coming across as very suspicious right now but he had lost his cool completely, the little altercation he had with you was already enough as it was and not having you here wasn't something you both needed today.

"I asked an intelligible question. Do you hear me…or not?" He glared at her again so she nodded furiously.

"Yes Loki i understand"

It was really hard for him to stay smiley and cheerful for the interview but he knew he had to fake it. He really wanted to go back to the tower and talk to you, at times he really wished he could have told everyone who you were to him and what you meant to him but what had happened to Melissa the last time had solidified that fear he had regarding your safety, if something was to happen and god forbid he fails to protect you then he knew for sure that he'd never be able to move on from losing you..

After the interview the whole team had to leave for yet another mission so he called you as soon as he was alone but you didn't pick up and that annoyed him even further. However he realised how tired you seemed and If you were sleeping then he didn't want to bother you again so he sent a voicemail instead.

A few hours later when you woke up you immediately looked at the time and it was late in the noon, you had been so sleep deprived that you dozed out like a baby. You were going to call Loki but you already had a voice note from him so you opened it.

Hello darling..i uhh

He took a deep breath before he spoke again

Interview went well, I'm not sure if you watched it, perhaps you are asleep because you didn't receive my call..i hope that is the reason and I'm not being ignored here

He chuckled nervously and you felt your heart breaking slightly, what were you doing with him? He didn't deserve to feel that way, he needed you but this constant insecurities you had always created a tiff between you two.

Anyways i uhh.. I'm going to go for yet another Avengers matter so I will see you at night Princess, I Love You.

The voicemail ended and you just wanted to cry again because you didn't know why you always did this whenever he was going to do something dangerous, you really needed help, you had to do something before you cause more problems between Loki and yourself.

Your whole day went by anxiously, when Loki wasn't there you had to be on Dalia's call at all times, the pay was good and you had never felt so compensated before so you didn't want to complain much.

During lunch hour you met Pepper and Jane in the dining area so you all could eat together. Jane really wanted to get to know you both while she was here. A year ago, if someone had told you that you'd be having lunch with the CEO of Stark Industries, you would have slapped that person for making such a joke.

"Where's Darcy?" You asked Jane even though she was also one of the last people you wanted to see after that horrible nightmare.

"Ahhh she's out exploring NYC, she has a few people she knows here" you nodded as Jane said that.

"So y/n how's it going with Loki?" Pepper smirked so you shook your head.

"Nothing is going on" you said to her but she kept smiling,

"I know..I know..been there, done that"

Well Paprika didn't know shit.

"Ummm can I ask you a question? I mean it's not something I want.. Loki is not my type really but ..I'm. Just curious " you said to her so she nodded.

"Well i always read about Tony and how uhh he ummm you know..women..and "

"His Playboy image??" She finished your words and you were thankful for that.

"Yeahhhh how did you deal with that? I mean he still gets the constant attention from women and it must be hard right? I think I can ask the same question to you Janey"

"Do you have a nickname for me? I love you already'" You bit on your cheeks as she said that, It slipped out of your mouth.

"To answer your question well I don't really think about it much, I mean I trust Thor and we have a connection since we met, it's different with him, I feel different with him, I just know he won't hurt me like that" Jane smiled as she answered your question.

"Ditto" Pepper said as she munched on her salad.

Oh to be this secure, how that must feel?

"Are you bothered by the attention Loki is getting from his ..admirers?" Pepper smirked again so you shrugged in response.

"Why would I be bothered by that? He's not my boyfriend or anything really"

"But you really want him don't you" Jane said so you glared at her before you finally smiled.

You liked having friends, you liked having people around you that weren't out to hurt you, and you had the best of them all with you, your Loki, so why was it so hard to remember what you had with him as soon as he was out of your sight?

Around ten at night you showered and got in bed but you couldn't sleep because Loki would come back soon, he had texted you already.

You felt so overly anxious, you just wanted him to come back so you could hold him and apologize for your behavior and what you had said to him, you'd have been extremely offended if it was Loki who had said something like that to you. Don't give shit you'd not take, you always wanted to live by that policy.

A few minutes later you saw a green shimmer appear in the middle of your room and there he was. The precious love of your life.

He had just showered and had no shirt on- offensive. His hair was wet and he was dripping still, reminded you of the first day you had met him.

You sat up on the bed as he walked towards you,

"Lie down, I'm going straight for the snuggles, is that alright?" He asked so you smiled and opened your arms for him. He quickly crawled into the bed and placed his head down on your chest, his body resting right next to yours.

You caressed his wet scalp and sighed, that's all you needed in that moment, you didn't think you could have gone longer without him by your side.

"Did you get hurt badly?" You asked him and he noticed the tremble in your voice so he smiled and looked up, his lips latched on your forehead before he trailed down and kissed the tip of your nose.

"I am all perfect darling, I need you to talk to me about the incident this morning" he said to you as he tucked your unruly hair behind your ears and ran his fingers through your scalp.

"I had an awful dream" his brows furrowed as you said that.

"What did you see?" He noticed the tears bubbling so as soon as they rolled down the corner of your eyes he wiped them away

"It was horrible.." you sniffled, you didn't even want to recall it "It was about you, you were in bed with Dalia, Darcy and Atrishia, all at once, doing bad things and you said awful words about me"

His eyes welled up too as you said that, no wonder you seemed so terrified and asked him to promise you something so ridiculous.

"I did that huh?" He asked before he leaned in to kiss you softly.

"I know it's not right or fair to you that I allowed a dream to ruin my mood and my thoughts about you but it's not just the dream..it's just how I feel all the time..i feel like someday you'll find someone else that will catch your eyes and then your heart, there are women out there in the world that would suit you better and I know that and it bothers me so much because I think you'll leave me all alone like everyone else did"

By the time you were done speaking you were sobbing uncontrollably so one of his arms went under your waist and he pulled you in a warm embrace as he sat up taking you along with him, he held you like a baby and allowed you to let it all out, holding it in was doing you no good, he knew that at the very least.

"It's okay sweetheart, it's okay..let it out, i am right here" he kissed your neck softly as he spoke, after what felt like hours you finally pulled away to look at him,

"I have felt loved by many people before lo, they told me they'd always be there but do you see anyone by my side? They all left as soon as they found something better, something they thought they deserved, i was just a service stop they used when they needed me, never the destination" you hiccuped as you said that and all he wanted to do was make it all stop, he wanted you to stop living in such a fear and he wanted these insecurities to stop hurting you like that

"I don't want to be a stop..I want to be your destination lo"

Tears rolled down his eyes as you said that. He cupped your cheeks and placed his head down on yours, for a few moments he didn't say anything but then he finally spoke.

"You're my only destination, you're my only hope, my only way, my only home. The moment I met you I found myself having a moment of peace, do you have any clue how long I have been searching for that feeling?" You shook your head as he said that but the tears didn't stop coming.

"A thousand years darling, sure i lived lavishly and had nothing to be ungrateful for but at nights when I finally laid down in my bed all alone, i felt restless, I felt hollow as if i was missing a piece of me, and you weren't even here, you didn't even exist back then" your arms wrapped around his neck as he said that.

Why couldn't you just remember his words when you needed to remember them? In moments of insecurity why couldn't you just remind yourself what you meant to him? Why did you always allow your past to ruin your present as well as your future?

You had to let go and you had to heal, you had to seek help.

You wanted to hold that thought but then he said something that almost made you want to pass out because of the whirlpool of emotions that were raging inside you.

"Marry me my little darling"

You pulled away from him, a gasp escaped your throat as he said that.

"What?"

"Marry me love, let me show you that I am here with you, by your side, for life, forever" you gulped as he said that, of all the ways you imagined how this moment would be like, this wasn't the one of them.

"Are you being serious right now?"

He smiled and waved his fingers, then there was a ring that he was holding between his fingers, it wasn't an actual ring made from jewels but something he had just made.

"If you say yes to me we will get wedded in the traditions of pure Asgardian customs, right this very moment my love" you looked at him awestruck as he said that, he wasn't messing with you.. "Then tomorrow we can go and marry each other again as per the requirements of your Midgardian laws"

"Lokii–" he cut you off as you said his name.

"You're the only one for me, now and forever, so why the delay?" He mumbled against your lips before he kissed you deeply, when he pulled away you were breathless and you knew what you wanted to do.

"Okay..okay I'll marry you baby, let's get married" he smiled and slipped the ring on your finger and then he kissed you again, as passionately as he could.

You couldn't believe this was happening, you felt terrified but you felt excited too.

However your happiness didn't last long because an impending call was awaiting you, destroying the momentarily joy you had felt just now. You heard the Frantic voice of your mother on the phone and your gut sank immediately. Mrs Geller was in the hospital after a drunk driver had hit her while she was going home after a grocery trip. She was in a coma and she was struggling with her life.

You didn't know why this was happening but you had a feeling it had something to do with you and Loki.

You had changed your fate but it didn't just affect you, it affected everyone around you. In the correct path of journey, the one that you were meant to take, the one where you were supposed to marry Strange and find Loki years later, in that journey things would have been different.

Unbeknownst to you if you hadn't messed with your destined journey then on the same day as today Mrs Geller would go for the grocery shopping but you had tagged along with her, while walking back home she was almost hit by a drunk driver but you grabbed her arm and pulled her towards you thus saving her from getting hurt in this accident, but since you decided to alter your path you weren't there to save her life.

You weren't where you were supposed to be. You had messed with the time and it was its turn now.

🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

Note : Every action has a consequence you all. Also as pure as his proposal was, she was marrying him for the wrong reasons, she needs to reflect on that.

Taglist

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72 @nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @greep215 @yallgotkik @tactac286 @janineb86 @sflame15-blog @nyxlaufeyson @lokidokieokie @purplekitten30 @sunnixart @nikkig496-blog @frozenhuntress67 @qardasngan @rosecentury @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @hrefna-the-raven @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee

#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #post avengers loki #soft loki #canon divergent au

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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This headcanon/fic hybrid has been updated and partially rewritten to have a proper beginning, more fleshed out middle, a new ending, and better perspective. You can find it here! Anonymous asked:

Lionlander?! Idea!

What if I'm some way somehow S/o ran into Homelander and a whole scenario played out like the Lion with the thorn stuck in his paw and Homelander being the lion of course and little s/I bring the mouse lol. I can imagine it now! Homelander being in some situation where he can't believe he actually needs help (not sure what kind of situation that would be lol) uhhh how could the great Homelander get himself stuck in this mess?! Then little short adorable s/o comes along just ordinary and minding her own business and notices poor Homelander in his situation she doesn't laugh or get scared despite his grumpiness towards her instead she just smiles sweetly and comes over and helps him... Being completely warm and friendly wanting to make a new friend rather than run away...

OOHHH you know, I've been pondering the repercussions of a possible "kryptonite" for Homelander being discovered. An Anti-V, if you will. Imagine he's soaring through the sky and hears something whistling through the air behind him. Some kind of projectile? a small missile, maybe? It's nothing he hasn't handled before. It could blow up in his hand and he would be fine.

In that split second he has to react, he decides to forego dodging it, and see where it's coming from, honing in his vision, except as it gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel. What the fuck? His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him in the chest, fumes filling his lungs and coating his skin. He feels like he's been turned inside out. Suddenly he's plummeting towards the ground, and crashes directly into your backyard, an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

He's out like a light, and when you muster up the courage to approach him, he's not moving. Oh god, he's not breathing. In your panic, your brain shuts off, and you act without thinking.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No, compressed, hands over his chest, pulsing again and again in a rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he shoves you away from him, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a shove like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body feels heavy. He's having trouble breathing, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in.

He's wild-eyed, breathing erratic, and you're afraid he's about to put himself into cardiac arrest. He may not have his usual strength, but the brutal way he punched his palm into your chest was still no joke.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. What if whoever tried to kill him is coming for him? "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

Maybe it's something in the tone of your voice, equal parts authoritative and compassionate, or maybe it's the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It's pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag and a first aid kit. As you lean over him, he sees a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his palm.

Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it. You startle, looking down where he touches. You now notice the beginnings of the bruise, too. "Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as you can muster. It stings where he presses his fingers in, the skin tender. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks numbly. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another. "I think these need stitches," you say, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak.

What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. Homelander catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the pain is beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

Thank fucking Christ.

"Okay," you say tentatively. Instead, you continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing it from his temples, down his jaw. Homelander watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head, though only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, he almost forgets you're strangers.

"What're you doing?" He asks, voice low, nearly a growl.

You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight. It's uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for the feel of it.

"I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?"

Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on baited breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, Homelander evens his expression. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up. "I need to lay low awhile." Though he can feel his powers steadily returning, it would be foolish to fly before nightfall. Whoever shot at him could have another round loaded and waiting. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," Homelander says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

Homelander watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first, but grows gradually more clear. Of all the commotion he's becoming aware of, he fixates on your breathing to drown out the rest.

After an hour, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas, even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

From his observations , he's learned the rhythm of your heartbeat, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's very lucky for you that I am so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so utterly charming, Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady. Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does. Homelander stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

Homelander's lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it.

"Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hung in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, Homelander puts his hands on your waist, and pulls you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you. He hears your heart begin to race, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his neck, sinking deeper into the kiss.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed prettily from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears.

"What... was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs. You look up when he points, and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You ask playfully, your shoulders relaxing. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to chuckle. "Oh, no. I haven't said thank you yet," he says, hands lingering on your hips. He'd only meant it to be a quick thing, but now you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. He licks his lips.

There's still a couple more hours until sundown. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll figure out exactly what the fuck he got blasted by. For now, he owes you a proper thank you, and himself a little Christmas treat for his trouble.

#hahaha I CHEATED and made it christmas themed!!!!!#this got WILDLY out of hand it was too long to post as an ask lmao #homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #depowered homelander #gonna have to go back and make that a proper tag since it's a running theme now #this definitely started as a headcanon and then went off the rails #ask and you shall receive #darling anon

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lotus-n-l0ve · 1 year

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𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞?

⸙͎۪۫ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Park Junggun x F!Reader

⸙͎۪۫ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : You were on. Running away from your father, your problems and a cartain someone who is hell bent on making you his masterpiece.

⸙͎۪۫ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : cursing, indication of reader having sex when she was a minor (don't do that guys), just a tiny itty bit of angst, slight smut, making out, kissing, grinding, cock-block,

⸙͎۪۫ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐭𝐮𝐬 : Hello people. If you like the one-shot then please leave a like. English is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Enjoy ♡

MAIN MASTERLIST || LOOKISM MASTERLIST

"Let's wait a little more then we will start streaming." You said looking in the came as you wait for more viewers.

Honey_07 : are you wearing blaze mascara?

You take a slurp of noodles before replying, "Yes, I'm wearing the blaze mascara. They sent me their new kit. I'll be dropping the review tomorrow on Newtube."

"Okay, so let's start streaming." You say as the viewers count reaches your average viewers, "Hey guys. This is your girl Bora. Today, just like now I'll be answering to whatever questions you guys ask. So if you want to know something just ask me."

Sumi_heart: How old are you?

"I'm eighteen, so I'm still high schooler." You take another slurp of ramen as you answer the question.

Hong_Hong: what school do you go to?

"Um, that's confidantinal. I can't tell you that." You laugh awkwardly at the camera.

Cgg_gran: I love you, Bora!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

"I love you guys too."

Everything was going well minus the creepy comments of them loveing you way too much. Your fans asking questions about your hobby, favourite brands of make up etc. Until one comment popped up on the screen.

Babygirl_of_Korea: Is this really what you want?

Colour faded away from your face as you took in the comment and the username. You knew that name so well because you are the who picked that username for him. Your comment section floded with worried viewers.

Soda_00: Are you okay Bora?

Nino_9: she looks sick!

Coco_baby: What happened suddenly?

"No-Nothing happened guys. I'm okay." You force yourself to smile, "Today's stream ends here guys. Bye bye." You wave at the camera and end the stream.

You leaned back on the chair with closed eyes as think. You thought he might have given up on you but no, he is still as stubborn as ever. You ran away from home home two years ego because you didn't like what you family was doing for money.

Your father, Charles Choi, who was the root of almost every illigal crime happens in Seoul and your twin sister, Crystal Choi, who also never hesitated to help him with his illigal business. And then there was that damn fucker Park Jonggun who will do littraly anything for money.

When you ran away you cut of ties with everyone. Suddenly lossing all the luxury was hard for you but you learnt with time. Now you do streaming which pays you more than enough. You knew that your father can find you easily but you doubt he would waste even a second for a useless daughter when his other daughter is business genius.

And that is exactly what happened. No one batted an eye when you ran away. Honestly you would have like the peace in you life but looks like Gun has other plans.

The next few days you felt paranoid. What if Gun knew where you live. The place you chose to live was a rundown part of Busan where neither government nor criminals are interested in. Surely Gun didn't knew right?

"That's it for today. Bye bye guys." You waved at the camera before shutting it off. Today the fifth and no comments from Gun. Maybe that comment was from a fan of yours and you read the username wrong.

You got from the chair and stretched your cramped limbs. You were streaming for last six hours. Maybe you should make ramen. As if your stomach agree with you it rumbled. Well that's my cue.

You walked in the small kitchen adjunct to the living room but the scene in front of you was not what you expected. Gun in your living room. His body dreaping over the small couch as he lazily skipped through channels on the TV.

He averted his eyes from the TV to you like he didn't just break into you house and is lying on your couch, watching your TV, "Done with your stream?"

You glare at him, "What are you doing here, Gun?"

"Is that the first thing you say to after not seeing me for years?" Gun dropped the TV remote on small coffee table and sat up on the couch.

"Stop fooling around. If you are here to 'take me back and make me your masterpiece' then that ain't happening." You air quoted, "I'm done with you and your boss"s bullshit."

Shaking your head in frustration you walk in the kitchen. Gun will eventually leave when you budge. If he is Gun Park then you are also [Y/N] Choi. You started rummaging through cabinets for ramen's packs. You didn't hear any sound from living room for some time. Did he left already? It was easier than you thought.

"You do realise that I won't have it any other way, right?"

You gasped when you felt his body pressed you and hands resting on the kitchen island on your both side, caging you. He brought his mouth to your ear and wishpered

"Don't you miss those days when you didn't had to worry about anything, When we use to spend everyday together, when I held in my arm every night." He asked—stated.

His last two sentences were true. You would be lying if you say didn't miss him. You missed him the most. More than crystal, your father or Goo.

You missed the way he held you in his strong arm and made you feel the most protected you ever will be. You missed the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as much as someone like him could, You missed how his warm lips made you forget every bad thing when they brushed on your cold skin. But that doesn't mean you will go back. No, you won't.

You turned to him and pushed his chest away from you, "Go away Gun. Your sweet talking won't work on me. I'm not going back there. I can't live another day of my life living with people who destroys hundreds of lifes everyday."

"Then come with me." He again inveded your personal space and pulled you in his chest by you waist.

You put your palms on his chest and tried to push him away but this time he didn't budge, "Don't act like living with is any better. You will literally do anything for money."

"You think you are in position to say that?" He squeezed your waist, "You will literally do anything those perverted people in you comment tell you to for money. You are wasting away your potential."

You scoffed in your mind. Obviously he is still thinking about it. He doesn't give two shits about. The only thing he cares about is his successor. His damn successor.

You did mixed martial arts since you were six. Then when Gun was introduced as Crystal's bodyguard. Gun trained you along side Crystal. While Crystal was a fast learner, you had something Gun wanted in his successor and since then he is after you trying to conceive you to become his successor.

"That is all you care about, right?" You glared at Gun, "Did you actually ever love me? Had I not been good with fighting, would you have even looked at me Gun?"

Your eyes filled with tears as you glared at the man standing in front of you but you didn't let any of them roll down. You won't show him any weakness. Gun stared down at you without showing any emotion. But his heart was in conflict. His silence ignited another flame of rage in your heart.

"See you can't even answer my question. If you want a successor go after crystal or Eli. Stop bothering, you damn fucker." You push him away with all your strength and stomped out of the kitchen.

But before you could even pass the living room Gun followed behind you. In a flash you were back in his arm and his lips on yours. Your back hit the wall. Gun brushed his tongue on you lips, asking for a entery. When you didn't, he bit your lower lip.

Your lips opened with a gasp and Gun took advantage and entered his tongue in your mouth. You hands clenched on his shoulders. His lips were and plump warm on yours. And unintentionally you gave in because he may not have loved you but you sure did.

While his tongue explored you mouth, his hands patted the back of your thigh. The sign was clear. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist while he grabbed the back of you thigh. Your one hand made its way to his black, silky hair and you began ran your hand through them. Gun almost purred like a kitten.

Out of breath he broke the kiss and started placing open mouth kisses down your throat. He said between every kiss, "Never. Ever. Doubt. My. Love. For. You."

All you could do was moan his name like a mantra, "G-Gun."

Your hips grinding down on the clear bulge in his pants. Your pussy rubbing on his clothed cock. His hips followed your rhythm. Gun bit down hard on the junction of your neck and shoulder till blood came out.

"A-ah Gun." You tugged his hair, he just grunted in response. At this point your pussy was dripping and leaking through your panty.

You could feel the familiar knot building up in you stomach, "God! Gun, I'm cu-cumming. I'm cumming."

With a loud moan you came undone. Your hand fisted his hair, legs clenching around his waist. You hugged him close to your body. Gun follow behind you, cumming in his pants. You remained in that position. Not sure what to do now.

Ring!

The sound phone ringing broke the silence in the room. You expected him to put you down but he kept holding you with one hand while the other one reached out to his phone.

"What is it?" Gun held the phone on his ear. You could hear muffled words from the other side but could not understand anything. After a few 'yeah's and 'okay's and a 'coming' Gun cut the call and pocketed the phone.

Then without any words he carried you to the bathroom like he new this place like the back of his hand and settled you on the countertop.

He looked you dead in the eye, "Tonight I'll come back. Don't even think about running away. I'll find you." He kissed your forehead, "Good bye, baby."

And then he was gone. Leaving you on your bathroom's counter top, flustered and confused.

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hellhound5925 · 2 months

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Cyare Verd

*OC Raven X Hunter

Previous Chapter - Chapter Three: Ruins of War

Chapter Four: Nerf Nuggets

Finally, back on the ship we are all able to take a deep breath. I slide my helmet off with a sigh of relief. Hunter looks back from the pilot seat, the two of us lock eyes. Concern etched into his features, eyes pleading with a question ‘is everyone alright?’ A tight smile and nod seems to set him at ease.

I turn to Tech and gesture to his leg. "Did you want help properly setting that?"

Wrecker strolls past us for the bunks. "What happened?"

"150 kilograms. And yes. I will." Tech’s reply.

He throws an arm over my shoulder and I help him to a seat in front of the navi. computers, setting my helmet into the seat next to him. Once he is settled, I head towards the back in search of med supplies and find a kit.

Tech removes his armor, while I dig through the kit. I pull out a bacta patch – which will do nothing – to find a more suitable bandage and splints to support his leg. Quietly, I get to work wrapping while he holds the splints in place.

“You were a great help to us today.”

"I'm sure you guys would have been fine without me. You seem quite capable" I quirk a brow, quoting him from earlier. He chuckles followed by a grunt.

"Ni ceta (sorry)" I’m suddenly conscious about how rough I might be.

"It's quite alright" he assured, pushing his goggles up on his face.

I nod at my work. “You should be all good now.”

"Thank you again" he says looking up at me from his seat.

"Ba'gedet'ye (You're welcome).”

Grabbing my helmet off the seat next from him, loud snores fill the space. Through the doorway, Wrecker has one leg off the bed sound asleep. I shake my head and continue towards the cockpit. Echo and Hunter quiet when I approach.

"Don't stop just because I'm here" I jest.

Echo offers me a smile before getting up, "You can sit here, I'm going to try and get some rest. Good job today." I nod at him as he goes.

Making myself comfortable, I place my helmet on the console in front of me and let my hair down. Hunter gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, but I notice he doesn't look away.

"Something I can do for you Sarge?" I run my fingers through the ends of my hair to get the knots out. A playful smile dancing across my face. He shifts before speaking.

“Echo told me. What you did for them.”

“Just got us out of a bind is all.” I can’t help but wonder what else he told him.

Silence overcomes the two of us. For a moment he studies my face like he’s seeing right through me. Those warm amber eyes could melt your soul. That thought does some funny things to my stomach and I find myself studying his face. For the first time I think I’m really seeing him. And he's not bad looking.

Wavy brown hair that’s kept at bay with a red bandana. A few rogue strands brush his forehead. From there begins the skull tattoo that covers half his face trailing down to his chin. Followed by a strong jawline that’s currently sporting a 5 o'clock shadow. Why have I never noticed?

He shifts - probably feeling uncomfortable under my heavy gaze. Now who's staring.

Clearing my throat, I turn back forward and watch as space flies by at hyper speed. My curiosity gets the best of me again and I peak one eye open, Hunter is focused on the console in front of him. Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms over my chest and get comfortable. Space is so mesmerizing I end up falling asleep.

Hunter

I wait until breathing evens out before stealing another look at her. Her features are soft and peaceful compared to the conflict that's been written all over her face. Though even with the weariness painted across her features, she's still the most alluring woman I’ve ever seen.

Something deep inside of me craves to have those hazel eyes on me. The thought sends goosebumps erupting all over my arms. She shifts slightly, causing a few pieces of her golden hair to fall in her face. Unable to stop myself, I reach over and brush them behind her ear, gently dragging my knuckles over her cheek bone. Her soft supple skin is a feeling I savor. It’s only then that I notice the jewelry in her ear. A few small silvery studs sparkle. A constellation between her lobe and cartilage.

I wouldn’t have considered her complexion to be pale but compared to my tan calloused hands. For a while I watch as she sleeps far more peacefully than she did the previous time. Mentally I pray to whatever powers that be it stays that way for her sake. Though, even with the weariness on her features, she still is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.

For a time, I let her sleep there before moving her to a bunk. She doesn’t so much as stir as I slide one arm behind her knees and the other behind her back. Her head lulls against my chest and her scent drifts to my nose. It's so delicate yet so intoxicating. Forever altering the chemistry of my brain. I can’t help but take it like a man deprived of water.

Her heart beats at a slower cadence. The sound floods my ears and I swear my heart syncs with hers. She buries her head further into my shoulder and breathes in deep. “You smell nice.” My chest vibrates with a quiet chuckle.

My senses start working overtime trying to focus on one thing but there's too much of her too close. For all that time, I cursed the Kaminoans for making me this way. Overwhelmed by everything and anything until I learned to tune it out. Now, there's nothing I wouldn’t do to let them get lost in everything she is.

It’s then that the entire galaxy comes to a halt- a screeching standstill. Echo was right. I’ve got it bad for her.

Raven

I feel myself slipping slowly back into consciousness but don’t bother to move or open my eyes. The dead silence is quite peaceful until it registers there's no hum from the Marauder’s engines.

Blinking open my eyes, it takes a moment for them to adjust. The sight before me is none other than the frame of the bunk above. Alright. This is definitely not where I remember being before I fell asleep.

It takes me a few more minutes to wake up enough to roll over. Inhaling, a musky male scent fills my nostrils. There’s something warm and inviting in it. I savor it, not wanting to get up. How in haran (hell) did I get here though? I wrack my brain but don't remember getting up or laying down. For that matter, I don’t remember having nightmares either.

Shuffling under the blanket, my foot hits something hard before it clatters to the floor with a loud ringing. “Osik (shit)” I cringe at the sound of beskar.

Slowly I raise myself onto my elbows and lean out into the walkway. As far as I can tell I’m alone. My elbow slips and I catch myself just before my face meets the floor. I can’t even remember the last time I slept that good.

With a second to collect myself, I stand and scoop my helmet up. A quick inspection proves there’s no new marks in the paint from where it hit the floor. I place it over my head and grab my things before making my way down the Marauder’s ramp. My stomach clenches because Cid is not going to be happy. I'm also not going to get paid now.

----

The Parlor for once is quiet which is a nice relief. Wrecker is playing Dejarik with one of the frequent flyers, Echo and Tech are talking to Hunter.

Thankfully I have my helmet on otherwise I probably would look like an animal in speeder headlights. Let’s face it. I’m still waking up. A shower would be helpful.

Heading over to Hunter I toss my bag on the bar top. "Where's Cid?"

As if on cue she comes bursting from her office, "Alright let's get to work shall we. Oh. Well look who finally decided to join us" She says putting her hands on her hips.

"That last job wasn't on us-" I get defensive before she cuts me off.

"I know, I know. But I've got something else." For once she seems to be expressing understanding. Imagine that.

"Who says I want another job?" I sass crossing my arms. I’m definitely awake now.

"You technically still owe me" Cid gives me a nasty look.

"Fine."

"You too, Bandana. Just the two of you. Should be easy enough" Cid gestures at Hunter. He and I exchange a look - sending heat spread throughout my core - before we follow her to her office.

"This one is easy, I promise. All I need you two to do is pick up 50 cases of Nerf nuggets and get them to their destination." Cid explains.

Disbelief replaces the anxiety of being alone with Hunter. "You're joking right? You want him - a highly trained clone with enhance senses - and me - a skilled Mandalorian warrior - to make a milk run?" I sass gesturing between Hunter and myself. He huffs out a small laugh I almost missed before rambling. "Don't you think that's over kill?"

I think about it for a second, taking my helmet off putting it under one arm "You know what? Never mind, I'm sure it's as bad as it sounds. But please continue." Out of the corner of my eye I catch Hunter watching me with an amused expression.

Cid gives me a look, "You'll need to leave soon to pick them up. Here are the details." She hands Hunter a datapad.

"To think I could just relax." I shake my head and run a hand down my face.

"Oh and you’ll need plain clothes . Alright now get out" Cid gestures to my armor. Rolling my eyes, I head for the door.

As Hunter and I leave her office, I mumble a string of curses in mando’a. He looks over his shoulder at me with a raised brow. My annoyance gets the best of me.

“Don’t enjoy it too much.”

Before he can respond I make my way to the bar and grab my bag. As much as I understand why she probably asked me to, I don't have to like it.

"Where are you guys going? Can we come with you?" Wrecker asks, trying to see what's on the datapad.

"No, Raven and I are leaving tonight. We should be back in 2 rotations. Stay here and stay out of trouble" Hunter commands the group.

It’s the first time my name has left his lips and the way he says it? A shiver threatens to run down my spine.

"Roger.”

Echo offers Hunter a nod. "Stay safe out there."

"We'll be fine. Besides, ‘Bandana’ has me as a copilot." Hunter scoffs at the nickname but all I can do is smirk.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make my way towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Hunter sounds as if he was planning to leave now.

I scoff. “We can leave as soon as I’ve had a chance to shower.”

”The Marauder has a shower.”

Spinning around, I cross my arms over my chest. ”I’m not showering on the ship.”

My unyielding eyes meet his. He doesn’t seem to appreciate the challenge but something sparks behind his eyes. “One hour” he barks.

Turning on my heel I slowly saunter up the stairs. If he thinks he can order me around like one of his men, he’s got another thing coming.

It takes me an hour and fifteen minutes to get myself cleaned up in one of the spare rooms. What can I say? Hot running water was just too good to be true. I also took the opportunity to clean my flight suit.

With one last look in the mirror, I’m not disappointed by what looks back at me. For once the bags under my eyes weren’t that noticeable. I also find I’m not mad about not wearing my beskar.

Clad in dark gray skinny jeans, my tipical boots, and a fitted blue tank top that allows my tattoo to be seen. One of a raven - naturally - in flight. With one wing out stretched across my back and the other peaks over my left shoulder just touching my collar bone. The way the feathers curl, from the front they’re all that's visible.

The day I got this and showed Kal’Buir he admired it expressionless. At first I thought he was going to scold me, but when his smile spread of ear to ear. He told me that a wolf and a raven was a good omen in an upcoming battle. I never thought about why he gave me that name until day. He always just said I was good luck.

A bittersweet smile forms at the memory.

Grabbing my bag and black leather jacket, I collect myself before facing the others.

————

My boots click on each step as I make my way back to the main floor.

“I said an hour. It’s been well over that.” Hunter snaps. He doesn’t bother looking up from his spot at the bar.

A devilish smile spreads across my face. Testing his patience is way more fun than it should be. The others are doing whatever it is they do when they’re here but by the tension in the room, they’re listening.

“An hour and 15” I sass tossing my jacket over my shoulder for added effect. It’s only when I make my way over to the bar and sling my pack on it does he look up. I watch as his eyes roam over my exposed shoulder and the tattoo. Those honey brown eyes finally make their way to my face.

I quirk a brow. "This gonna work for you Sarge?" Might as well call him out for staring.

"Yeah. That's fine." he says, trying to act relaxed. A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, "We should probably get going."

————

Hunter wanted to check a few things on the Marauder while I head inside. Settling in I tuck my bag away before taking the co-pilot seat. It takes him about 10 minutes before I hear boots on the durasteel floor.

“Get lost back there?” I jest. He just throws me a look before taking a seat next to me.

Quietly I watch as he programs the hyperdrive and preps the ship to take off. His jaw muscle flexes periodically like he’s deep in through. With a glance from him, I look out the window and watch as Ord Mantell becomes smaller and smaller until we’re out of the atmosphere.

I break the silence. "We should eat." He hums in response like his mind is somewhere else. Alrighty then.

I make my way to the kitchenette at the back of the Marauder. Truthfully it isn’t much but I guess when you have 4 adult men on board they really don’t need much. Just simple meals to keep them going. But I swear if I have to eat another ration bar I might lose the little sanity I have left.

After spending a decent amount of time scouring the place, I find odds and ends of things to make us some version of pog soup. Typically there are far more spices in it - not to mention some kind of protein - but they seem to be running low on supplies. With two steaming bowls I head back to the cockpit.

“Here” I shove one practically in his face.

He takes the bowl with a cautious look. I move to the seat next to him and fold my legs underneath me.

“Pog soup. Or what I could make of it.” Swirling my spoon in my bowl I realize now how sad of an excuse for a cook I am. Most Mandalorian women were raised to fight and cook. Being that it was only me and Kal’Buir for the longest time, I only learned how to make what he knew. What all Mandalorian hunting parties ate- Pog soup.

The two of us quietly lift a spoon to our mouths. The warm soup hits my taste buds and I realize now why there were so many spices in it. This is awful. One glance at Hunter and I can tell he’s trying not to cringe.

“Alright so I’m no cook. It's better with all the spices in it I swear.”

He goes back for another spoonful. I’m stunned to silence, unsure of how to take that.

“It beats the ration bars.” A small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. My eyes are immediately drawn to it.

“I’ve eaten far too many of those lately myself.”

He huffs a laugh and the two of us go back to eating. It doesn’t las long, my mouth gets the best of me.

"I still don't get why you don't just disappear. Head to some back word and lay low."

He sighs. "None of us know life outside of war."

I choose to say nothing, more knowing I'm really in no place to judge. Hunter hesitates to say more. The silence is deafening to the point where my thoughts wander back to my time on Kamino.

Conversations that seem like so long ago with the Sargent before me. They flowed with such ease. Discussing missions and what they could have done better.

That last part always threw me for a loop. ‘What they could have done better’ they did their job exceedingly well during the war. I don't think anyone even dared to question their tactics - even as unoradox as they were. I admired them for it.

“The other day, Tech asked how I knew Cid.” I start deciding to come clean about that at least. “Let’s just say a friend of mine and I got into some trouble and she bailed us out. Now I owe her when she sees fit. But I’m sure by now you know how she can be.”

He huffs his agreement but says nothing more.

The Marauder makes a noise like it's preparing to come out of hyperspace. I reach out a hand to take his bowl. He hands it to me and offers a nod.

“Vor entye (Thank you).”

His use of mando’a throws me. This whole time he’s never indicated he knew any. A small smile. The first one I can remember in a long time, finds its way to the surface. The way he looks at me kicks up butterflies in my stomach.

“Ba’gedet’ye (You’re welcome).”

After cleaning up our bowls and spoons, I grab my pack to find my vambraces. Once they are secured to my forearms, I shrug my jacket on. Hunter meets me at the ramp.

"Ready?" He asks.

“Let's get this over with" my usual sass making it’s grand entrance.

Hunter nods at me and presses a button. The ramp groans as it unfolds for me.

The brightness of the sun takes my eyes a second to adjust to as I stand in the doorway. Once they finally do, I spot a short man with a data pad. He pays me no mind as I approach, more focused on what he’s doing - this feels familiar.

"You must be Cid's pick up person" he says craning his neck to finally look up at me.

With a quick survey of the area it’s clear our cargo isn’t here. "Where are the cases?"

Nervousness visibly sets in the man's features, "Getting ready to be loaded, they'll be here any second.”

We both stand there in silence for a while and I contemplate my interactions with Hunter. It’s admirable what he’s clearly doing for his men. The man I met on Kamino would have done anything for them then too. I might even mind myself caring a little more than I should about him. Everyone I care about ends up getting taken from me. The final thought agitates because with that logic I’ll be alone forever.

I place my hand over one of my blasters. "I'm getting impatient, Where are the cases?"

The man fumbles with the datapad and seems to be trying to make a call.

"Everything alright?" Hunter’s impatient.

I raise my vambrace - consealed under my coat sleeve - to my mouth, "Not sure, checking on it now. I'll keep you updated." So much for a milk run.

"Something is wrong. I can't get a hold of my men. There are bandits you know, they steal stuff. Anything!" The man says frantically.

"Hunter, we've got a problem. you're gonna wanna come out here."

"Roger." The fact that he answered me like his men answer him is funny.

Hunter comes down the ramp. "So much for a milk run." So he can make jokes can he? I roll my eyes. "What seems to be the problem?" He asks the man.

The man explains what he just did to me but this time he tells us where the cases are supposed to be coming from.

"Great. We can track it from there" I suggest.

Hunter doesn't say anything but I follow his gaze - to a speeder bike.

"Oh, No. I'm driving."

He looks at me "Nice try." I quirk a brow.

“I’m not one of your men you can order around.”

Hunter gives me a look with a hint of amusement. "You like arguing with me."

"Do not.”

"Do too.”

"I'm still driving and that's an order.”

"Orders only work on your men!" I’m practically yelling at this point. Thinking I've finished the argument I head for the speeder.

I get on so that Hunter is forced to get on behind me, or so I thought. Before I have time to process, he’s picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder. Too stunned to speak, I scoff. Heat floods my veins.

“Hunter. Put me down. Right. Now.” I swear I feel him shutter when I say his name.

Gently he places me back on the ground and climbs on the bike.

"You coming?" He asks, quaking a brow.

“Mir’sheb (smart ass)” I make a face - forgetting I’m not hidden within my helmet - and he smile. He actually kirffing smiled.

A string of curses in my native tongue later, I reluctantly climb on behind him snaking my arms around his waist. I try not to lean in too close - so it's not obvious - and breath in his musky scent. Strangely enough it's a comfort.

Hunter opens the throttle up wide and we’re off. He takes a turn a little too fast and I bear hug his core. Pressing my cheek into his back. His warmth radiating off him into my skin.

"Relax." He shouts so I can hear.

My blood boils. "Yeah, well typically I prefer to be the one driving!"

He pulls the bike to a screeching halt and I practically throw myself off. Hunter half smiles at me. A micheviousness even sparkles in his eyes.

"I don't wanna hear it" I wag a finger in his face.

We begin our search of the area. Sticking together in case these bandits are still around.

"Sure enough we were right, cases aren't here" I think out loud.

"They must have been intercepted, we'll follow their route to the Marauder and see what we find on the way.”

I give him a look.

"What?" He asks.

"Seriously. I'm driving this time." I rest my hands on my hips.

"Fine" is all he says, before heading back to the bike. That’s it? What’s his deal?

We speed down the roadways until suddenly Hunter reaches past me and grabs the handle bar, turning the bike and pulling the break. We both tumble off. I’m given no time to even stand up. Hunter is grabbing me by the arm and dragging me to cover. I give him a nasty look and am about to go off on him when he covers my mouth. He shifts his body infront of mine, pressing himself against me so we are hidden behind the alley wall.

My eyes widen with shock and I’m suddenly very self conscious of every part of my body that is touching his. His face is turned so that he’s looking out the end of the alley, tattooed cheek only mere centimeters away. A few stray pieces of his hair not confined by the bandana brush over my nose.

After a moment he lets go.

"You di'kut! (fool) You could have gotten us killed!" I whisper yell.

"There was someone watching. They were waiting for us." he says, breath fanning over my face.

At this moment, being that he is so close to me our noses brush. It’s only now I realize he's about 4 inches taller than me. I look back and forth from his eyes. There's a hint of gold swirled through them that at a distance you don’t see.

He steps back, realizing we’re still close. "Sorry" he says quickly.

I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. "We should probably tail them.”

"Yeah. Good idea.”

(Next Chapter- I’m not posting here any more but my fic can be found on Wattpad at this link.)

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

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