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b1rds3ye · 9 months

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Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #/*avery actually writes*/#/*cod x masked reader*/

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im-poe-dameron · 4 months

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THE HEART OF A SHIP

a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.

summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.

Intoxicating.

That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.

A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.

He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”

He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.

“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”

You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”

“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.

“What’s the damage report?”

“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.

But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.

Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.

You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.

The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.

No matter the consequences.

“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.

You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”

“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”

The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.

Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.

“Come with me.”

When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.

The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.

“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”

You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”

“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”

Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.

“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”

“Poe…”

"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.

He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”

The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.

“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.

"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"

The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.

Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.

"Need you."

He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."

You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.

You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.

Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"

Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.

"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."

You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."

You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.

The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.

Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.

You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.

"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.

He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."

"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.

As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.

You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.

"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."

A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.

"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."

Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."

For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.

"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."

"Poe—"

He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."

A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.

He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.

"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.

"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"

"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."

His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.

"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."

The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.

"Me too."

He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."

He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."

You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."

A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron smut #poe dameron #my writing

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cxlamarisalxmi · 10 months

Text

Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom [2]

[Platonic One-Shot]

c/w: fighting, depictions of violence and gore, angst, female pronouns (she/her), feminine gendered terms used to describe reader, Venom is a big softie, only for you though 🤭

a/n: this is marked as part two because the first one shot was the first part, the drabble was more of an introduction to the idea 😭 I understand there might be some confusion about how these parts are set up but yeah the drabble was intended to introduce the idea more than it was meant to be an actual part of the series— like an extended epigraph… sort of

—

It was raining the day your father had decided to return to your dimension— the dark and gloomy rain clouds above thick and heavy as they devoured the sky.

With them they brought raindrops thick and heavy in density that were spat out in a torrential downpour. Falling in copious and rapid quantities.

You had been sitting perched on the corner of a building’s roof, observant and watchful as you patrolled the streets from your perch.

The darkness that had followed the overcast night sky left the street lamps and starkly bright city lights bright and prominent in their glow. And your sensitive and finely tuned auditory perception picked up on the sounds of tires driving through rainwater on the pavement. The sound of particularly nocturnal people walking, bustling and moving about— the way their shoe soles stepped on the soaked through concrete of the sidewalk, some splashing as they came across puddles in the divets of the ground.

Everything that involved your senses and being aware of the world around you sharpened dramatically, now keen on focusing on the world around you. Listening starkly for any kind of traumatic event occurring.

“I like the rain.”

“Me too.”

“The atmosphere is relaxing. We feel at peace.”

You couldn’t help but agree, the weather more than accommodating in the sense your mood had improved drastically.

It had been two weeks since your father had made his appearance, and since then you had been tightly wound and more than a little hurt at his abrupt intrusion. Even more hurt at the way he had just left without so much as an ounce of effort in trying to get you to talk to him.

He had called your name, and he did speak to you— that was something you could acknowledge, but the fact he hadn’t bothered trying beyond that spoke a lot about what your relationship had come to. What it still was.

He didn’t care about you, he never had and the encounter from a little less than half a month ago gave you the impression that he never would.

A small part of you could admit that you had hoped maybe he would come after you, chase you down, take you into his arms and hold you tenderly. Lovingly.

An even larger part overwhelmed that feeling with a cold and bitter indifference that made you more angry than sad. Sparked to life when he left you behind in a home you didn’t know, with people you didn’t trust— and festered to much more significant levels as the years continued to pass with not a single word from him.

You shouldn’t have expected him to make an effort to fix your relationship, and you hated that you were so bothered that he hadn’t tried at all. You should’ve known that he hadn’t ever intended to be involved with you at all. And you should’ve just accepted that your relationship was beyond fixing— and there was no point in trying to repair something that had died a long time ago. Irreparable— damaged and broken.

And whilst anger and hate had spread and taken over most of your heart and soul, there was still a small part inside that was more hurt than anything.

That small child inside that had depended on her father more than ever in the wake of her mother’s death. A little girl that had quickly learned he wasn’t dependable, she couldn’t count on him at all. And she was quick to learn that there wasn’t anyone who had her back, was on her side. It developed into her trusting absolutely no one— “the only one I can really trust.. is me.”

“[Y/Name]? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you murmured quiet and tame as you continued to watch over the city. The darkness and ache that had consumed your heart so very deeply at the remembrance of your father had dissipated when your friend had spoken to you. “I’m fine V.”

“Was it about him?”

You didn’t respond and they had expected that you wouldn’t, and didn’t say much after that. And you appreciated their understanding that you didn’t want to talk about them.

There was a moment of tranquility, peace in the loud bustle of your city as the rain continued to fall. But then your senses tingled as the familiar sound of a portal spinning open erupted behind you. There wasn’t a moment of stillness that you allowed before you were spitting webs at the wall behind the portal.

Miguel walked through the portal a moment later, it closed a second after and then you were launching yourself at him.

He may have not had the tingle at the expense he wasn’t even really changed like you had been. He hadn’t been bitten but had his genetic code changed, and his abilities came from a vial of liquid he injected directly into his bloodstream to keep his powers sharp and potent.

So, whilst he didn’t have the spider senses that tingled anytime danger was nearby, his natural instincts had been sharpened finely. Thus, he was able to bring up his arms as you drop kicked him into the wall you had slung your webs at.

Even though he was blocking his face protectively you had put enough strength behind the kick to hurt him, and he grunted as your kick connected sending him flying back.

[Y/Name] jumped to meet him against the brick wall and grabbed him by the throat, tightening her clawed fingers around his neck before she was pulling him from the wall and throwing him off the building to the street below.

The previous feeling of peace and content that had warmed her chest and blood had diminished, and was now replaced with thorough rage. Hot and ferocious.

[Y/Name] had sworn to Venom that she absolutely would resort to murder if her father ever returned to her universe, and here he was. So the alien didn’t falter nor make an effort to halt the anger that was slowly but surely filling his host’s body.

Another portal opened up behind her and she felt an itch of annoyance as she felt the familiar presence that made her senses tingle. Jessica Drew.

A snarl tugged at her features as she curled her lip and looked over her shoulder, a ferocious glare fierce and angry in her bright eyes.

“Venom.”

“Of course.”

Jessica stared as a thick, black matter pooled from her back and slid across her lean and muscular frame. The alien-like viscous oil gliding across every plane of her frame, concealing her entire white and blue suit in a tightened black version of it instead.

“[Y/Name],” Jessica began soft and quiet— an attempt to somehow quell the furious fire of rage she could feel hot and angry from where she stood several feet behind the young teenager. “I know what you must be feeling—”

“You don’t know shit.”

“You want to kill him. And I can’t let you do tha—”

Her sentence was cut short when she was suddenly thrown backwards, her senses had tingled but not nearly quick enough. And she had been sent backwards to the brick wall in consequence, she gaped at the O’hara stood in front of her on the edge of the roof.

She had turned to face Jessica with her back, and the blackened webbing surrounding her body seemed to pulse and tightened around her body. Every time she squirmed attempting to loosen them, cut them or escape they would just tighten. She resorted to calling out to [Y/Name] instead—

“Spider-Woman doesn’t kill people!”

[Y/Name] willed her mask to peel away, the small and thin tendrils crawling up her neck and hugging her forehead only made the harsh glare she threw at Jessica over her shoulder much darker. The snarl she gave baring abnormally sharp canines seemed to make her even more intimidating— it made Jessica uncomfortable how a simple look made a chill rake down her back.

“You’re right. But we do.”

And she shivered again at the alien voice that rumbled from the young adult’s chest. The words she spoke only succeeding in making her all the more uncomfortable and frightened. The tone she spoke in was deep and ferociously monstrous. And Jessica stared as the O’hara glared back for a single second before she jumped disappearing over the side of the roof.

[Y/Name] landed on the sidewalk paved along the side of the asphalt road, she jumped forward flipping out of the way as her father shot a web at the spot she occupied previously.

But he had jumped to meet her midair and they grappled as they fell back to the road, she managed to wrangle a hold on the back of his suit and brought forth Venom’s strength to throw him down the road before landing on it herself.

Miguel’s sharpened instincts flared aggressively as his young daughter launched a car at him. He spun around extending his arm forward simultaneously— the long and sharp blade on his forearm cutting the car cleanly in half. But she had been there to surprise him, lunging forward after she had thrown the car knowing he’d cut it in half opening up an ambush as she erupted in between each piece of the vehicle.

He gasped silently in shock at her appearance through the split and grunted when her punch connected to his face. Enough strength from her abilities coupled with Venom to send him flying back. And he flipped midair to land on his feet several feet down the street, he dug the blades on his forearms into the pavement to halt his movement as he looked up.

“I suffered! Alone! For twenty years, because of your cowardice!” [Y/Name] shouted as she stormed down the street, the mask Venom provided peeling back to reveal a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back and baring abnormally sharper canines.

“Protecting the security of the multiverse is not cowardly!”

“You knew invading another universe at the expense of your variant’s death was wrong! You knew your presence could collapse the very fabrics of a dimension! You always knew!” She roared in exclamation to his rather weak defense, having stopped just a few feet in front of him to properly put her feelings forward. Give him everything she had bottled up inside that had erupted suddenly since his abrupt appearance in her dimension two weeks ago.

Miguel just stood there, he swallowed thickly at her statement as he held eye contact with her. There wasn’t any indication he was intimidated by her on his face, his expression blank and guarded with slanted brows and narrowed eyes. But internally he was dreading the fight that would no doubt occur, she was anomoly after all.

“But— when she told you she was pregnant, when she told you she was excited to start your family.. what did you do? What did you do? You. Ran!”

“She was never meant to bear children! Never meant to give birth to you— that was not my fault!”

The audacity he had to ruin her life and not even acknowledge it only made [Y/Name] all the more furious, her blood boiling beneath her skin as she tightened her vicious snarl. “Not your fault?!”

[Y/Name] advanced forward, she reached to her left— her muscular forearm flexing beneath the deep black Venom suit as she gripped the side of another car and effortlessly lifted it throwing it at him.

He jumped to the side to dodge but she was there to meet him once again, having leapt from her spot on the street to put her knee in his face. He couldn’t bring his arms up quick enough to block it this time, and she forced him backwards when she utilized Venom’s alien strength to really hurt him.

Miguel grunted as her strike connected and he was thrown into the side of the building off to the side. She followed right behind him tearing her arm back and throwing it forward the second she was close enough. The hit had enough power and strength in it to send him right through the brick wall and into the empty warehouse within.

[Y/Name] landed several feet away from the form of her father on the ground, he was slow to get back to his feet but once he had he turned to face her. And she could tear his throat out at the scowl carved into his features, the conversation that followed only making her all the more infuriated.

“I’m not here for any other reason than to capture the anomaly in your dimension.” He says, a still blank and guarded look on his face. One that his young daughter matched only to a degree that looked more like she was enraged rather than unbothered.

“There’s no anomaly here, Venom and I would’ve picked up it’s unnatural scent immediately.” She reasoned.

“You wouldn’t know of it’s presence. Because it’s you.”

“What?”

“You are an anomaly, you were never meant to be born.. never meant to be bitten… never meant to host Venom. You don’t belong. You need to be contained.”

[Y/Name] froze, Venom inside stilling too as he and herself processed the words that had just fell from her father’s mouth. All was quiet for but a moment—

“You…”

Miguel watched as a dark look overtook her features, from enraged previously to downright hostile as her eyes darkened to an unseen degree. He felt a shiver of fear and intimidation shuck down his back in a brief burst.

“You bastard.”

The snarled words growled from her throat sent another ripple down his spine. And he swallowed thickly as the deep black viscous matter of Venom returned, and then she bore the same appearance as before.

The same lean and muscular frame but now entirely black with a white spider insignia, her mask’s eyes now more monstrous-like as opposed to the regular diamond shape as most spider people.

“Fine.”

[Y/Name] Venom snarled ferociously, Miguel watched as the alien bulked up his daughter. Not so much so that it wasn’t proportionate but enough to have him breathe out a brief exhale of uncertainty and anxiety.

His daughter had become powerful in his absence, and he had caused the black hatred to plague her heart. The fact she only looked at him with hate and a fiery light of murder and bloodthirsty rage was his fault and his fault alone. He had no one to blame but himself.

So, he really had no one to blame for this fight that would occur one way or another. He wasn’t sure he could beat her, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of anxiousness brew to life in his stomach. His heartbeat slightly erratic at the new feeling of diminished confidence in his chest.

He knew this would be hard, he knew he was walking into this fight with a significant power difference, and he knew for damn sure he wasn’t certain he’d keep his head. And Miguel had no one to blame for it—

But himself.

—

a/n: started writing out requests so expect to see those soon but don’t get too excited as I can’t promise when exactly they’ll be finished and posted, my classes are kicking my ass and my job fucking sucks so.. bear with me please and I hope you enjoyed!

—

Taglist: @violilaqrs @christinesdemoness1958 @erensbbg @nickey-diano @gamersansblog @ayyybee @raweggeater @shrekstoesblog @azzy-ozborn @nda-approval @9kaaulitz @jazjelspen @myconglomerateromance @sweetheartlizzie07 @nyx-does-stuff @krazy-kattzz @sparklyphantom @loser-alert @bath1lda

Sorry if I missed you on the taglist!

#miguel o’hara #platonic reader #across the spider verse #spiderverse #miguel o’hara x platonic! reader #miguel o’hara x reader #jessica drew #miguel o’hara x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

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mayaflowerxs · 10 months

Text

THE HOT BABYSITTER

Synopsis: Being untrusted, you are stuck in a rowdy house as your younger siblings are being babysat with the hottest guy you’ve ever met. Irritated by how loyal he is, you wonder how long he will last before he cracks upon the little game you’re playing on him.

Warning: Smut / Angst / Fluff. Swear word usage, Babysitter!Mark x Troublemaker!reader. Cheating, jealousy, alcohol consumption, virgin!Mark, Bratty!Reader, creampie, oral, kinda long sorry!

DOYOUNG

Masterlist: NCT AFFAIR SERIES

Pairing: Mark x f!reader

You didn’t understand what was the big deal. So what if you threw a huge party at your house? So what it got a little crazy and the night ended with over 10,000 dollars worth of damage repair? It’s not like you haven’t thrown countless of parties before. But yet something about this one had tipped your parents over the edge. After hours upon hours of them shouting in your ear about how irresponsible you were being, to have recklessly thrown a party with that many people whom you knew could care less about the thousands of dollars worth of property they were about to destroy. Especially with your little brothers in the other room most likely locked there as they watch their Paw Patrol. But it’s not like anyone got hurt,

That’s if you didn’t count that one jock who jumped from your roof into the pool and broke his ankle..

But much to your parents disagreement, they had enough of your scandals. Which is how you were left standing in front of your biggest most terrible punishments of all time. Stuck with a babysitter, and not just any. No you’d be stuck having Mark Lee, one of the most uptight and nerdiest boy you’ve gone to school with. And to watch him push up his glasses and give you a once over, you knew the next six months will be absolute hell for you.

And hell it was.

For the first few weeks were nothing but awkward silences. Your glaring constantly piercing through Mark’s skull but he pretended to not notice. And each time he approached you, he was quick to take a step back when he met your angered eyes. You simply couldn’t believe your parents could do this to you. Have they not known you at all? You can’t associate yourself with losers like him, and if everyone were to find out he’s your babysitter and not just for your brothers…forget it. Your reputation is toasted. You can’t truly say you know Mark but you’ve been attending to the same school as him for over all of your primary years.

Mark isn’t as special like the other kids in your grade. Just like everyone else in private school, he also comes from wealth. Parents much like yours spend most of their time traveling and little to no time actually parenting. Privileged to many opportunities that’ll kick start him a successful future, one that many lower class citizens have to work thrice as hard to achieve. He joined many clubs and has won many medals and certificates. Even being valedictorian, difference between him and other student’s like you were simple. He actually cared to make a name for himself. To put in that work so he’d be recognized for his achievements and not for his family’s name. He wasn’t you who didn’t care whether you were actually passing your classes or not knowing your parents would pay the school to keep quiet and pass you. It’s how you even graduated high school, and even got accepted to the top most prestigious school in all of the country. But not Mark, no he worked hard to get in and refused any sort of help from his parents.

Which is exactly why your parents hired him. At the age of fourteen Mark got his first ever job at an ice cream parlor. Buying himself his own clothes, gadgets and even his first ever car although, his parents did pay for more than half of it he was just convinced he bought it all without no help. Along with being a scholar he chose to do volunteer work and has given himself quite a name around town. The golden boy, to the adults he could do no wrong. To the elders, he’s an angel sent from above, to the kids he’s an idol but to the teenagers who actually grew up with him. They can only think of two words, kiss ass. There’s not much of any actual reason why he’s hated just simply for the fact that he’s such a rule follower, never wants to have any fun and takes his responsibilities very seriously. It’s even worse that now he’s apart of the Dean, most worry to speak about things in case he might be listening and report them.

Which concludes to the very last thing, you also go to to the same top most prestigious school in all of the country. And although you couldn’t even think of his name the second he came in view of you until he introduced himself, he on the other hand knew yours the second he saw you. Y/n y/l/n, most popular girl in school since the first grade. Have gotten detention and suspended for various reasons all of which are very ridiculous. You never take anything serious and much rather cause havoc than to study. You’re everything he would never look for in a girl. And glad he doesn’t have you for a sister or who knows how crazy you’d make him. But he chose to work for your family, he chose to babysit not only your brothers but you. And that’s something he doesn’t plan on backing out no matter how determined you are to make him go insane. Insane enough for him to quit.

“Uh where are you going..?” Had currently been busy playing with your brothers, the youngest merely two years old in his lap. Mark’s head perks up at the sound of heels clicking on the stairs, descending down and there you stood wearing a tight but very revealing black dress. “You look pretty sis.” Your eight year old brother, Iseul tells you, winking at him and sending him a soft smile. You grab your purse nearest the door. “Out.” Completely taken aback, Mark gets on his feet and rests your baby brother next to Iseul. Rushing out the door after you, he stops you before you can enter your car. Having it suddenly closed before you can fully open it, you raise your brow at the man standing before you. “Can i help you?” “Im sorry, i guess you must’ve not been made aware that you are currently grounded?” “No I know:”

“Oh…you do.” Rolling your eyes you push him to the side and go to open the door again only for it to be closed shut once more. “Then am I right to assume that you’re then simply disobeying your parents orders.” “And what those might be?” “Oh I don’t know…no cellphone.” He takes your phone out of your hand, “No keys to the car.” He takes those too and lifts his hand as you go to grab them. “And most definitely no going outside. Now let’s get back inside so that you can go change.” Scoffing you smack his hand and take a step back. “Look here Mark, don’t try to get all high and mighty simply because you work for my parents. How about you focus on actually doing your job and take care of my brothers.” “I am doing my job, I’m looking after you. And rules say you can’t go out.” He goes to grab your arm again but as he tries to walk the two of you inside you, don’t budge. Feet planted to the ground, like a child about to throw a tantrum you shake your head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a sigh, Mark shoves your phone and keys in his back pocket. “Alright then, have it your way.” “Thank you, now as soon as you hand me back my - HEY!” Thrown over his shoulder, lifted off the ground you smack Mark’s back in protest. “Put me down you asshole!” Thrashing and squirming but to no avail, the boy had a tight grip on you and he wasn’t planning on letting you go until you were inside. Door locked behind him, he finally does set you down. “Now do you want to be a good big sister and hang out with your little brothers? If so go upstairs and change, we’ll be waiting for you.” “God you’re so damn annoying!” Stomping your way up to the stairs, Mark hears the loud slam of your bedroom door and sighs in relief. He’s been stern before, being serious for most of his life has its benefits but never did he think he’d have to act such a way towards you. The popular girl he’s attended school with.

For years he’d watched you from a far. He always wondered how you could live your life without any care. While you had practically the whole school stuck to your side, he was a loner. Sat by himself, worked by himself and ate by himself. He didn’t mind though, to you he didn’t exist but to him, you were like a celebrity. Even though he didn’t care about what you were up to, it was almost impossible to go anywhere without hearing the latest news about you. He assumed you’d hit your peak after high school but three years had passed and if anything you’ve gotten even more popular! Truly it’s as if you really were a celebrity. You’ve gotten your face on multiple magazine covers and even have a social media account with almost half a million followers. Even now he still finds it hard to believe he’s actually babysitting you.

Minutes had passed since your tantrum and he has yet to see you come down the stairs. Maybe you were taking your time to change, maybe you fell asleep or chose to stay in your room. A part of him felt bad, it was his job. Strict orders from your parents to not let you out of the house, it’s not like he can disobey them. So with a plate of cookies he had freshly made for your brothers, he makes his way over to your room. A soft knock but not a response from you is heard. “Y/n? Can i come in?” Another soft knock but to no avail, not a single response. Man you must really be mad at him. With a disappointed sigh, he opens the door and begins to speak. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier…” Room empty, he sets the plate of cookies down. “Y/n?” Looking around, he noticed the bathroom light on and door slightly opened. “Y/n?” No sight of you, but the window had been opened. And as he nears it, he looks out and sees there have been a ladder that would lead straight down to the ground.

“Damn it.”

You finally managed to arrive at the party, albeit late. But the second you enter you grin to hear everyone quick to greet you. You were the life of the party and as they proceed to hand you red solo cups of hard liquor in it you were quick to accept them. “Where the hell have you’ve been?” Many always asked you, and with a shrug you wave them off. “Annoying rules my parents implemented.” Knowing where you come from they nod, “Alright who’s ready to have some fun!” You clap your hands that follow by a chorus of cheers. At some point the time had slipped past your mind, focused on taking shots of tequila and playing games such as beer pong. It wasn’t until you had fruit punch all over your dress did it cause a pause in your time of fun. “The hells wrong with you dickhead?” The boy widens his eyes and stutters out an apology. “I’m s-so s-sorry!” Glaring at him as girls hand your napkins and try to get the juice out of your expensive dress. The jocks near you get in the poor boys face. “Who the hell invited him?” One whispered not too subtly. “God what a loser.” Another says. “I’m sorry hun this is only going to get stained how about if you try to wash it with some water?” One of your friends say, “we can follow you.” “No it’s alright, besides I think I need some air.” Walking off and heading towards the bathroom which happened to be nearest to the front door, you definitely are taken by surprise when you’re suddenly come face to face with none other than Mark himself. Which you have to admit, looks pretty pissed off.

“Mark?”

“I see you’ve gotten yourself pretty comfortable huh?” He tilts his head at you, jaw clenched and brows crunched. Just behind you were the jocks that had busied themselves and kicking out the poor bastard that spilled the fruit punch all over your dress. “Hey y/n who’s this loser?” They nudge your shoulder. Eyes slightly widening, you glance between them and Mark and see he’s about to open his mouth. No way can they know about yours and Mark’s embarrassing situation. “Oh! You know scoring myself another point!” The guys gain a smirk on their faces, leaving a confused Mark in front of you. “What ? --“ Completely unprepared for you to suddenly cup his face and smash your lips on top of his, you push him up against the wall. Suddenly there’s a loud chorus of cheers and wolf whistles around you. Mark had tried to push you off him. Hands at your waist but to the crowd now growing around you, it seemed as if the golden boy has finally loosened up a little.

“Hell yeah! Hey get out of the bathroom and give these two some privacy!” One dude shouted and aired out the bathroom. Pulling away, you quickly grab Mark’s hand and drag him inside the bathroom with you. Closing and locking the door shut, you sigh in relief. Only to turn around and see a very flustered looking boy. Red in the face and chest slightly heaving from having to take deep breaths. “Oh relax virgin it’s not like we’re actually going to do something in here.” Frowning once more, he clears his throat and stands up straight. “I’m not a virgin.” Sending him a look, brow slightly lifted he scoffs and shakes his head. “Okay and so what?”

“Wow never thought you’d actually admit that.” He widens his eyes and struggles to come up with something. “Well…uh…this isn’t about me anyways!” Nodding you pursue your lips and hum. Turning on the sink and attempt to wash off the stained dress. “This is about you! And what you’ve done! You disobeyed me! You disobeyed your parents and most of all you kissed me without my consent!” Chuckling you roll your eyes and turn to look at him. “Consent? It was just a kiss you’re making it seem like I stole your first kiss or something.” When there’s silence in the bathroom other than the muffled loud music blaring from outside your jaw is dropped. “No way!” “Shh! It’s not a big deal.” He mumbles almost embarrassed. Smiling look an idiot, it only irritated Mark and soon the scowl is brought back completely.

“What is a big deal is what’s going to happen to you once you come home.” “Oh?” Your voice raises a pitch. “Get your head out of the gutter.” Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Oh please I’m just messing with you, don’t flatter yourself so much you wouldn’t be someone I’d go for anyways.” As much as Mark tried to not be bothered by your comment, he couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of hurt. Ouch. It’s silent momentarily, and Mark watched as you struggle to take off the stain. “Let’s go,” “I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re not the boss of me.” “Keep staying here and that stain will never come off.” “It’ll come off.” Beginning to scrub harder, Mark sees you’re only making it worse. With a sigh, he stops your hand. “Come home and I’ll take off the stain.” “You know how?” “I am a man of many talents.” Eyeing him, you notice how serious he was being. So with a grunt you turn off the faucet, Mark about ready to open the bathroom door you stop him.

“Wait!” With a confused look and eyes silently questioning you what, he nervously gulps and takes a small step back when he sees you get much closer to him. “They’ll notice something’s up if you look normal.” Ruffling his hair and unbuttoning his shirt he goes to pull your hand away when you smack it way. “Relax virgin just play the damn part if you want to leave this damn party faster.” With a gruff, he allows you, watching silently as you turn on the faucet and wet your hands. “Seriously?” He asks you when you’re suddenly dampening his forehead with water to make it appear as sweat. “One last thing.” You lift a finger at him, he watched you take your lipstick out of your purse. Apply it on your lips, eyes widening like saucers when you get close to him, “Woah! Okay I don’t think-“ wincing when you suddenly step on his foot. His crouched state gives you the opportunity to attach your lips on his neck and with one big smooch there lied the large red print of lips shining brightly on his skin.

“Ok now lets go you big baby.” “Hey how come you still look normal?-“ “Shh be quiet!” And suddenly the door is opened and out you walk as if you had infact shagged with the school’s biggest nerd. Immediately engulfed with cheers and even more whistles as they noticed the proud smile on your face, and even more when they see the state Mark was in when he walked out. Never did Mark feel so embarrassed in his life, and just as you’re about to get wrapped up in your friend group to talk about all the juicy details, Mark had quickly gotten a hold of your waist and redirected you over to the door. “See y’all later!” You wave with a wink and as the two of you leave, another loud wave of yells are heard from inside. With an annoyed look on his face and eyes rolled, Mark walks the two of you over to his black BMW. Had just closed the door, he looks over to see you with a grin on your face. “Drop the grin you’re still getting it when you get home.” “Ooh kinky-“. “Out of the gutter y/n!”

Mark had in fact kept his word and soon what was six months of being grounded was up to eight months! Now you truly despised Mark. “You should be more like Mark!” You parents scolded you. But it was all the same thing over and over again. Mark being a respectable figure in town, how he’s very influential and responsible and you should be more like him. You just never would have guessed that you’d now be punished by joining Mark’s side in all of his boring activities. “No way.” Mark shrugs his shoulders and nods. “Too bad, now go get dressed or we’ll be late for the annual deep clean event.” You couldn’t believe it, not only did you have to suck up to the fact that he’s your babysitter but now you actually had to hang out with him? Truly the world hated you.

Despite all your protests unfortunately you had no choice but to be stuck with a hundred other people including Mark to pick up trash around the town’s lake. A grossed out look on your face each time you have to pick up some smelly old litter, especially when it’s sticky and slimy. Groaning when the black trash bag refuses to open properly and getting some of the trash to touch you. “I cant!” You drop the stick and bag. “Oh c’mon y/n, there’s only an hour left.” “An hour?!” You say in disbelief. “It’s not that bad.” Mark tries to reason but the small grin on his face is enough for you to understand he’s taking pleasure in all of this. “Screw you mark.” “Thought you said I’m not your type?” He chuckles as your suddenly throwing your bag at him, dodging it merely. “Come here!” And soon the rest of the group who’d actually been busy cleaning up the park, turn to look at the two of you running around like maniacs. The retractable stick in your hand as you chase after Mark who’s much too fast for you.

On your phone and moaning at the fact that your friends had currently gone on a shopping spree and to the beach. You on the other hand stuck sitting on a very uncomfortable beach chair. The closest to feeling as if you were at the beach you’d ever get. A large umbrella above you but even that can’t stop the terrible heat engulfing you. Bored completely out of your mind as you had no other choice but to be forced to attend one of Iseul’s soccer games. “Thought I said no cellphone.” Your phone is suddenly snatched from the boy you’ve grown used to being stuck to your side every damn second of the day. Eyes rolled you scoff up at him before noticing his appearance. In shorts and a black tight tank top. You noticed just how toned he was. Wow. Was this really the nerd that had been babysitting you? Snapping out of it, you clear your throat. “You have my other one, I had no choice but to get a new one-“ as you go to reach for it, he pulls it away. “Well then I guess you’re going without two phones now.” “Oh c’mon Mark I have been doing literally everything with you! Please give me a break!”

“This is a break. You’re not here for me, you’re here for your younger brother now be a good big sister and watch the game.” “The game hasn’t even begun yet, I’ve been stuck having to watch a bunch of eight year olds do the exact same lap over and over and over again. Besides where the hell is their coach?”

“You’re speaking to him.” Sitting up straight, you tilt your head at him in confusion. “You?…their coach?” “Yes? …is that so hard to believe?” Eyeing him, you shake your head. “No…” Definitely didn’t come off as the sports kinda guy but eh can’t judge a book by its cover. “Game will start soon, I better see you paying attention.” He points his fingers at his eyes and sends them over to you, jogging off to join his team as the opposing ones have started to enter the field. “Not like I had anything better to do.” You sigh sadly. Eventually as the game started, you had surprised yourself the more you grow to be a lot more interested in the game than you thought you would. So much you yelled just as much as the soccer moms had. Yelling out demands to pass the ball to the other teammates. Cursing at the referee when he held up yellow cards for no reason —in your opinion given your brothers team can simply do no wrong. And at some point almost caused a fight with one of the kids father from the opposing team.

Even having Mark come up to separate the two of you. “Okay!..” he says with an awkward chuckle, forcing a smile so that no one’s moods begin to turn sour. Walking you back over to your seat, he lowers his voice so that only you can hear him. “When I said to pay attention I didn’t mean to start a fit-“ “BUT HE-“ standing infront of you and gesturing for you to take a seat, when you do he crouched down. Hands on your knees as he whispers to you. “I know he was being an ass,” “Thank you!” “But for your brothers sake, please keep your cool? Mmh?” With a huff, you exhale and nod. “Fine.” “Good girl.” He softly pinches your chin and stands to return back to his side of the field. Shocked, you feel slightly bothered at the way you felt by his actions. Why it made your stomach turn and heart palpitate who knows? And yet as the game continued you couldn’t help but notice just how focused Mark was as well. Yelling out words of encouragement, brows scrunched as he demands the kids some orders for them to follow.

Something about this side of Mark had you feeling bothered. So much you even had to cross your legs to keep yourself calm. “Get your head out of the gutter.” You tell yourself as you smack your head. Thankfully you manage to ignore the growing feeling inside you, your brother ended up scoring the winning goal and at last the game ended. Just as Mark’s about to give Iseul a hug and a congratulations- when he’s rudely shoved to the side. And instead, you’re the one engulfing your little brother in a big bear hug. “You did so good!” You jump in excitement as your brother joins you with a large grin plastered on his face. Seeing the wholesome interaction, Mark forgets the fact that you so rudely pushed him. “Congratulations champ, how about we go celebrate, the three of us?”

To say you were gaining feelings for your babysitter would be hard for you to accept. You were in denial, there was no way you were actually catching feelings for Mark Lee, the ultimate prissy nerd. Heck if it wasn’t for your current situation with him you sure as hell would not ever associate yourself with him. And yet here you were, making pastries with him alongside your little brothers. In the backyard playing tag and hide and seek with them. In the living room binge watching kids movies and even listening in on Mark’s story telling. Heck at some point you even shushed your brother when he interrupted him, “I wanna hear what happens next!” But it seems like catching feelings weren’t the only problem brewing up. Word got around of how much time you’ve been spending with Mark and soon rumors had gotten around that you were apparently dating him!

You denied them, but you could only say so much when there’s just so many pictures of the two of you together. Especially when those of you two getting ice cream together spread around campus. Completely ignoring the fact that your little brother was there and it had been when he won his game. After the whole ordeal at the party, many were certain you were screwing him and some even spoke to you asking how the biggest goodie two shoes was like in bed, and how big he was. It was hard to deny it all without causing suspicion as to why you’re even hanging out with him in the first place and not get exposed for being babysat by him. And unfortunately as much as you began to like the guy, you felt as if you had no choice but to go along with the public’s general assumption.

That you were screwing him.

“WHAT?!”

“Oh relax Mark it’s not anything bad.” “Anything bad? Y/n you do know you’re basically pimping me out?” Tilting your head, you squint your eyes and hum. “Not exactly sure how that is.” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and paces around the living room. “Look y/n Im not like you, I don’t go around recklessly and start spreading rumors.” “Hey it’s not like I did it intentionally. “I don’t care! I have an image to uphold!” “And so do I!” Getting off the couch you walk over to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Stop thinking so negatively Mark and think of the bright side. If you go along, no one will know you babysit..me. And therefore I get to keep my reputation.” “I don’t see how it benefits me.”

“I wasn’t finished!” Huffing he crosses his arms and waits for you to continue. “While you can build your image.” Sending you a look to explain, you huff annoyedly. “C’mon Mark don’t make me spell it out. You’re a…” still not getting it, he tilts his head slightly at you. “Mark you’re a loser.” Groaning he goes to move away from you but you stop him. “But that’s okay! Because it seems like every kid and senior in town likes you!” “Is that suppose to make me feel better?” “Look, it seems like every person our age doesn’t like you but! If you play along, I’ll get everyone to respect you.”

“Why should I care if they respect me or not. You don’t.” “Yeah but that’s because I don’t care, they on the other hand only ever seen this pathetic, sad, lonely, nerdy-“ “Get to the point.” “…side of you. Go along, and I promise you’ll go from being known as the prissy golden boy to the man everyone wants to be. And who knows, you’ll get so popular top companies and businesses will be begging you to join their team.” You notice the gears shifting in his head, hearing out your words and it seems as if he likes what he hears.

“No Im sorry.” Groaning you stomp your foot as you seem to become desperate for his help. “Oh just do it!” “No!” “Why not? Are you really that morally superior to everyone that you can’t even go along with some white lie?” “White lie? Y/n do you know what can happen to me if your parents found out about this so called rumor? Besides I have people I need to consider.”

“Yeah like who?” He goes to answer but closes his mouth at the last second, whoever he was about to say he changed his mind in outing them. Instead he sighs frustratedly and shakes his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you, now can you please just tell everyone the truth? Or at least that it’s not true? Please y/n.” Biting the inside of your cheek, you still had a lot in you to argue with him but seeing the tired look on his face you felt almost bad to even think about forcing him into this situation. So with a disgruntle you nod your head. “Alright fine.”

By the next day, the usual qna about your current relations with Mark quickly engulfed you. Your group of friends sitting on a table bench as they gossip about the latest news. As you near them, they are quick to wave their hands at you to come quick. “What’s up?” “Y/n you whore!” They gawk at you with grins on their faces. “I didn’t think you were such a dare devil!” Slightly lost you stand in front of the bench as you watch them all begin to speak over one another with laughs and excitement written all over their faces. “What do you mean?” “Oh please!” You feel Ten who sat closest to you lightly shove you. “Don’t play dumb with us. So how did she react?” “How did who react?” “Maru your biggest enemy duh?”

Now truly you were left utterly confused. You hadn’t heard that name in forever. Maru and you hadn’t really gotten on well given the two of you always fought the title of the most popular girl in school. Just by that, the school always pinned the two of you against each other and while you did try to befriend her. Many bored lowlifes spread false rumors of you trash talking her and she bought it and since then has tried to make your life a living hell. Since you graduated you hadn’t heard from her and even assumed she left the country, you never bothered to keep up with the latest news of her which is why it’s so shocking to you as to how she’s suddenly coming up in conversation again. Your friends could see the look of confusion and it’s when it’s dawned on them that you had in fact not known about the truth.

“Oh hun, do you not know?” “Know about what?”

“About Maru and Mark?” What? When you don’t respond back, they’re about to explain when suddenly there’s a loud shout. “You bitch!” Turning around and seeing the crazed look on none other than your arch nemesis herself, you notice how fast she was making her way over to you. Swinging her hand and goes to slap you, luckily your friends had been quick to intervene. Still frozen in your spot, like a deer caught in headlights you watch as her hysteria was beginning to gain the attention of the other students around campus. “You’re that damn pathetic that the only way to one up me was to sleep with my boyfriend?” Boyfriend? “Relax pimples.” Ten tells her as he forced her back. “That was one time!” She yells at him before turning her attention back to you. “You’re a damn slut! And unless you want the entire world to know that I suggest you stay the hell away from my man!”

Shoving them off her, she brushes herself off and storms off. You couldn’t help but feel humiliated, angered that she came and told you off. To walk off as if she won that argument? To have the whole campus to stare at you with some sort of judgment as if they know you? Who the hell does she think she is?

“Well I guess we’re even then!” This causes her to freeze. “What did you just say?” Scoffing, you shake your head and eye her. “Did you really think I wasn’t aware of you hooking up with Jeno while we were dating? Or how you flung yourself like a needy bitch to Jaemin when we were seeing each other?” Whispers and ooh’s can be heard, face heating up with embarrassment as she didn’t expect for you to have known. “I get it, it’s too hard to compete with me so you settle with my scraps. No need to be ashamed.” Hands in fists, you were sure to almost see some smoke coming out of her ears. “It seems almost fair if I repay you back.” Scoffing she bites the inside of her cheek. “No.”

Digging in her pocket, her hand is in there for some time before she pulls it out. “See that’s where you go wrong because even when you tried to take my man you still failed.” Showing you her hand, your smirk falls to see the shiny diamond ring glimmer on her finger. “Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.” She grins before walking off. Upon seeing the ring you couldn’t deny you felt your heart drop. Not only was Mark dating someone, your arch nemesis at that but he was getting married? Does she know exactly what your situation with him is? If so then your toast, but as she walks off and your friends come to comfort you, you mute the world around you. You could only think of that damn ring on her finger. She’s engaged to Mark.

The Mark you’ve grown so closed to in the last few months.

The same boy you couldn’t handle being in the same vicinity with and never even once saw as your type.

The same boy you gradually began to grow feelings for. Mark is engaged with Maru, your Mark.

Oh hell no.

Mark was quick to apologize when you told him about your encounter with his fiancée. “I had no idea she’d do such a thing.” “I would’ve had I known…” you grumble. “Did she hurt you?” He asks and gets closer to inspect your face. Feeling yourself getting hot again by the proximity you shake your head and move away from him. “I’m fine, just shocked it’s all. Never pegged you to be the dating kinda guy given how serious you are about your work life. And when she flashed me that large Diamond in my face, wow.” You couldn’t help but feel jealous about the whole ordeal. You tried to not let it be known, but the frown on your face, the wrinkles on your forehead and the serious expression on your face also lets not forget the fact that you refuse to even look him in the eyes was making it impossible to not raise some suspicion.

But at least Mark hadn’t noticed. “Yeah…I tried to keep my private life, private.” Nodding you pursed your lips and take a sip of the freshly made lemonade Mark had prepared. “Look if it makes you feel any better she doesn’t know about…us.” “Us?” You say slightly coughing on the lemonade. “Yeah how I babysit you and all. She just knows I look after ‘some kids’.” Nodding you set down the glass and make your way over to him. “Good, it’d be a bit unfortunate if she saw those pictures of us.” “Pictures?” Humming, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Arms at his sides as he gulps nervously. “It would crush her to see how coupley we look together.” You can hear how he slightly holds his breath when your face leans in. “Especially when we walked out of that bathroom, remember how you looked?” Walking off and leaving him hot and flustered you make your way to your bedroom thinking of the ways you can make that boy yours.

Mark was in fact a guy with high morals. One of them being faithful to his fiancée. Since you heard about the unfortunate news, you’ve been coming onto him a lot more strongly. So much that Mark can’t even be in the same room as you without getting flustered. Face turns red the second he catches sight of you. He has tried to be respectful and put his distance but you seem to always come back. And when he finally sat you down to speak to you formally about the situation he made it clear, that he only had eyes for Maru. And boy did that piss you off.

“You must really love her.” You dare say, teeth gritting and hands digging into the stool cushion underneath you. “I really do, i mean yeah we haven’t been dating for long but I do think there’s chemistry.” “How long have you two been going out?” “Two months.” Oh? If there was one thing you knew about Maru was that much like you, commitment gave her the ultimate ick. And if she were to settle, it’s because she truly has fallen for that boy. To hear they’ve only been together for two months and now engaged? There was a motive and you felt as if you knew exactly what that was. “Mark do you have some sort of trust fund from your parents?” Taken by surprise by the sudden question, “Uh…my grandparents left me all of their fortune to me if that’s what you mean? But I can’t get into it until I’ve gotten married.”

“Uh huh yeah and uh when you proposed…would you per say have been persuaded to propose?” “What do you mean?” Shrugging you stand up from your stool and slowly make your way over to him. “Oh I don’t know, like have you been given hints by your fiancée that she wanted to get married. Probably talked about how soon she’d like to be a young bride, or even…” running a finger up his bicep, goosebumps appear on his skin. Standing just behind him, “was told by Maru herself, that she’d like for you two to get married?” After a moment of silence he speaks up, “Uh yeah, she did. Why? Do you think-“ “Oh no of course not! If you say she loves you and you love her I have no reason to doubt.” You wave him off but you see the concern on his face. “Don’t worry Mark she would never go for your money I mean she is rich herself.” He nods and laughs, “Well yeah that is true.” “Right so relax!” Hearing the loud feet patter coming from upstairs was an indication for Mark to go check up on the young boy. Watching him excuse himself and climb up the stairs, you take out your phone you have managed to sneak out of your parents drawers.

“Guess it’s time to do some digging..”

Mark didn’t expect to spend yet another Friday the exact same way as he did the first week he began working for your family. To have to call the neighbors and see if they can look after your brothers as he busied himself running after you who has run off to some party. Only this time he caught you right outside the lawn of the large house. “Oh good you’re here!” “C’mon let’s go home I left your brothers at-“ Not expecting for you to have grabbed his hand and proceed to drag him inside, he tries to plant his feet on the ground but you were freakishly strong by the way you dragged him. “Y/n-“ “You’re so tensed, have some fun will ya?” “I don’t know if you realize but I’m currently on the job.” Rolling your eyes, you grab a cup and fill it with fruit punch that was in a large clear bowl. “Here it’ll help you relax.” Taking it, he eyes it and looks down at you. “Does this contain alcohol?” “Oh my god, don’t tell me you don’t drink.” You huff, scoffing he shakes his head. “Yes I do.” “Prove it then. Drink.” Looking down at the weird purple vibrant liquid, he looks over to you and noticing more people had gathered to watch him drink. And when he finally does bring it to his mouth and sip, he hears the kitchen immediately erupt in cheers. Feeling hands patting his back and some on his shoulder as they congratulate him for not being such a stuck up.

Wincing at the hard sting at the back of his throat, he’s given no time when suddenly he’s being dragged to play some games. Heard quick to look for you only to see you had been right behind him with a smirk on your face. Before he can object, you pull him down by the neck and whisper in his ear. “Just enjoy it.” But to everyone it seemed like the two of you were getting touchy. “For me?” You bat your eyes at him. With a grunt of disapproval he agrees reluctantly. But soon, it would all become too chaotic for him. Before he’d know it, it would no longer just be any regular ole beer pong but instead comes with dares. Such as body shots. “Body shots?” He asks with furrowed brows. His eyes slowly widening when it dawns on him as soon as women try to undress themselves. “Uh…y/n!” But you had been too busy taking shots of your own. “C’mon man pick which girl you’d like to take body shots with!” One jock shouts through the loud music. Looking around and feeling crowded as they keep coming onto them with seductive looks and breasts purposefully pushed higher for him to see, he backs up until finally he hurriedly gets away from them and takes a hold of you.

In the midst of taking yet another shot of tequila, Mark takes it out of your hands. Groaning, you’re about to scold him and remind him he was meant to be having fun. Never once expecting for him to prop you on the table with him in between your legs. “What is happening?” He sends you a soft smile and a sorry look. “It’s a dare?” Shrugging, you take off your shirt. Ignoring the screams as more phones are brought out and begin to snap pictures of the two of you, others recording. “Then you better make it worth my while.” And soon, a lemon and shot of vodka. He’s focused on licking all the way up from your stomach to your breasts. The feeling of his warm wet tongue had you feeling all funny and tingling. A very familiar feeling that you can’t mistaken it for anything other than hormones. More cheers are heard, words of encouragement as they chanted Mark’s name. Throwing your head back when you feel him lightly rub against you during his attempt at sucking all of the lemon off you. It wasn’t until he pulls away, hair slightly disheveled and eyes boring into yours do you feel the suffocating tension ridden between you two. His arms on either side of you, you didn’t know what came over you.

But you didn’t care, hands quickly cupping his face. You pull him close and kiss him hungrily. You were sure you saw phones flashing even when your eyes were closed. But what you hadn’t expect was for Mark to kiss you back. You weren’t really sure if it was because of the alcohol or if he had truly been kissing you because he wanted to. But a part of you was too horny to care. As soon enough, the two of you had been shoved into the nearest closet. Mouth back against one another, your fingers in his hair. Tugging his head back ever so slightly that caused rumbles to erupt from his throat. Legs wrapped around his waist as he held you up. Moaning when his hands squeezed your ass. But soon Mark pulls away, “m’no y/n this is wrong.” He sighs and rests his forehead against yours. Setting you down, his hands go to your waist. About to move you away from him but you only keep your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “What is it that she has that I don’t?” Shaking his head, “That’s not it-“ “Then what is? Tell me you don’t want me Mark.”

You push him up against the wall. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me the same way I have been thinking about you.” “Y/n please.” Caressing a finger over his cheek, you notice him close his eyes and slightly lean into your touch. “Tell me.” A small whine leaves his mouth when your hand roams down and palms his now tight jeans. A large tent forming in his pants, “Tell me Mark.” He shakes his head, “I can’t...” he breathes out, you press soft kisses to his cheek, holding back a smile when you notice he was leaning further more into your touch. “I’m yours Mark.” Whatever little control Mark had left in him had vanished.

Despite the loud music, your mixed moans and grunts could be heard perfectly clear outside, it didn’t help your case that loud banging sounds can be heard emitting from the very small closet room the two of you were currently in. If anyone was keeping count, and they were. The two of you were in there for hours. At some point they wondered if you’ve fallen asleep. But when the two of you had finally gotten out, a tired looking Mark clinging onto you as you held him on one arm and your heels along with his belt in the other it was obvious what had gone on in there.

Your brothers slept over at the neighbors house for the night. Luckily they had kids they got along with and your parents as busy as they could ever be. Wouldn’t be home for another month. Mark hadn’t gone home that night and instead crashed on the sofa with you. Both too exhausted to go upstairs. And by the time the morning came, Mark would wake up with his arms around you, marks and hickies all over his body, scratches on his back and full blown panic attack at the memory of last nights shenanigans.

Mark didn’t want to remember that night. It was a mistake, he made a mistake. It should have never happened and yet when he woke up the morning after with you in his arms he couldn’t help but feel that pathetic flutters abrupt in his stomach. God he felt pathetic. At first he tried to ignore you, avoid you at all times but it was killing him to stay away from you. And when you made it impossible to get around you, Mark had no choice but to confront the elephant in the room. He was meant to say that last night was a mistake. That he was sorry given the two of you had been drinking and no decision was made with a clear head but as he sat the two of you on the couch, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to your neck where the hickies he left on your skin was still very much prominent. He had lost all train of thought and leaned in to smash his lips on top of yours. “Fuck Mark did I take your virginity?” At the realization, he turns red. “Yeah guess you did.” Feeling bad, you pull from him, “Let me make it up to you.” “Y/n-“ “Shh, just enjoy it.” Boys currently with the neighbors as they were invited for a day to the amusement park, you had the entire house to yourselves.

On your knees, you unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull them down along with his briefs and when you do, he slightly hisses at the cool air hitting his veiny cock. His chest beginning to heave with every heavy breath he takes. And when you take a long lick from the base to his tip he can’t help but throw his head back. It feels pathetic to admit he’s fallen putty for you, but when you continue to take long stripes. Puckering your lips as you kitten lick his tip and look up at him with those bright eyes of yours he felt filthy to think of wanting to add tears to those beautiful eyes of yours. Large hands caressing your face until they get a hold of your hair. For someone so inexperienced it seems as if he knew exactly what to do. His groans get louder when you start to deep throat him, pulling away to spit on his tip only to go back down on him. He felt embarrassed by how close he was already getting. The way his thigh clenched and he bucks up into your mouth. This causes you to bob your head, wanting to take all of him. To gag on him and when you do, you want him to hear how well you’re taking his cock.

“Fuck y/n!” He grunts, holding your hair up as you focus on making come in your mouth. Fondling his balls that only has raising his grunts. “Come for me.” You manage to say for the split second you remove yourself off him. Leaning down to suck his base, jerking him off, his hold on your hair tightens. Pressing kisses to his red mushroom tip, you wrap your lips around him. Continue to jerk while doing so, “Want it in my mouth.” “Shit I’m close!” Mouth agape as he then starts to shoot his load down your throat. Warm thick liquid, salty and you waste no time swallowing. Eyes never leaving his as you clean up his mouth. “Good boy.” You wink at him, loving how pink his cheeks have gotten. “Y/n…”

Pressing a finger up against his lips, you rest yourself on his lap. “Didn’t I tell you to enjoy it?” A soft whimper is heard from him as you begin to discard your clothes. Grabbing his hand and pulling it down to your panties, soiled. “This is all yours.” Softly moaning when you feel start rubbing your clothed pussy. “You want me?” He nods, “Tell me how much you want me.” “So much, I need you y/n.” “Yeah?” He hums. Moving your panties to the side, you press a soft kiss to his lips. “Take me Markie.” Shoving his fingers in you, Mark groans by how tight your walls were wrapped around him. His dick sensitive and with the way you start to grind on him it takes no time to get hard again. Flipping you on your back, he kisses you hungrily. Fingers gaining in speed, thrusting harder into your sopping cunt. He’s enraptured by you, enamored by your beauty, your blissful state and to make you come for him that he fails to realize his phone had been blowing up with text messages and phone calls.

You knew it was only a matter of time before those pictures and videos surfaced all over the web and Maru would see them. Angered that her supposed fiancé had once again been hooking up with you, that you didn’t listen to her threats. She was blowing up his phone to explain himself, as someone who dare says he’s faithful she’d like to know what he has to say for himself. But by his lack of presence to even answer his phone she wondered if he still was with you. Boy was she right.

In a matter of minutes the large house echoed your moans and Mark’s grunts. A mix of skin clapping and the sounds of your essence squelching with every hard thrust. Mark balls deep in you, a leg over his shoulder as he focused his sight on the connection between you two. Pupils filled with lust the more he watched how well your pussy took his cock, how tight your walls kept him inside you. He felt his tip rub up against your gummy walls, to see the small bulge on your abdomen the faster he fucked you. His hair sticking to his forehead as more sweat formed. Unfortunately your state of pure bliss would come to a sudden halt when there’s rough banging at the front door, followed by a very angry voice. “Mark! Get out here right now!”

“Maru?”

Immediately removing himself from you, you groan when you lose his warmth. Watching as he hurriedly dressed himself as the pounding on the door got louder. “Mark Lee!” “How did she know where I was?” He says panicked, sitting up almost boredly. You began to dress yourself albeit a bit more slower than Mark. “She’s psycho, like any maniac they stalk and track. How else did she find you?” You weren’t being sarcastic but to Mark, he liked to think so. In a desperate attempt to make himself look more casual, it was no use. His heavy breaths, flushed face, fluffed hair, marks on his skin and swollen lips all were a clear indication of exactly what Mark didn’t want Maru to know happened. So the second he opened the door and tried to casually greet her, Maru didn’t buy it. Rudely pushing right past him and made her way inside where she’d come in contact with you. Had barely begun putting on your top she had caught sight of all the red and purple bruises her fiancé had left all over you. “You’re dead!” Making her way over to you, Mark is able to grab her before she lays a finger on you. “I KNEW IT!” Her legs thrashed as Mark had her picked up and moved on the other side of the living room.

“Maru please-“ A loud slap resonates throughout the house, “How could you?!” Taking a step forward, Mark extends his arm out to stop you. “I’m sorry.” He answers guiltily and eyes on the ground. “You damn right!” She lets out a fake laugh, “Who would’ve thought I’d find you here at her house. To find out you WORK for her no scratch that, you…babysit her.” She snorts. Eyes turn to lock onto yours, “I warned you…”

The following week was an absolute hell. Maru had in fact kept her word and after learning the truth she made sure everyone heard it as well. The news broke like hell fire, by the end of the night the entire town and others have heard about it. Your parents found out and were furious given it was all their coworkers can talk about. Having to cut the business trip early, and their first words once they had walked through the doors was that Mark was fired.

It broke you, you didn’t want him to leave and even pleaded for them to not be so harsh but they wouldn’t hear it. Your poor brothers didn’t understand what was going on and were just commanded to go to their rooms. Mark didn’t argue nor fight and accepted it. “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble.” Since the news about his infidelity, Mark felt utterly dejected. Many gossiped, shocked to hear the golden boy had done such a thing. And although for the most part many still treated him no differently, Mark still felt as if he lost all the respect he worked so hard to gain. To see how quick he was to accept his departure from the family was something you couldn’t handle. Running to catch him just as he’s about to enter his car, begging him to stay. “Y/n i told you this was a mistake.”

“No Mark it’s not-“ “Yes it is. I’m sorry if I made you believe that there could ever be anything between us…” he shakes his head along with a defeated sigh. “But I think it’s best if we go our separate ways. To never contact each other again.” You hadn’t noticed you had begun to tear up, to really think the boy in front of you had you feeling so strongly about him. But when you tried to grab his hand and he pulled away, shaking his head and a small no that leaves his mouth boy did that stab you straight into your chest. “Goodbye y/n.” “Please Mark, why are you going back to her? She doesn’t love you.” “Y/n please don’t do this-“ “Why not?! Mark she’s using you for your inheritance money!” Something in him snapped, ice cold eyes stare you down as his frown turns to a scowl. “How can you accuse her of such thing after what we did to her? To stoop so low?” He eyes you, no longer understanding the girl he’d grown so close to over the last few months. “Mark-“ “I’m trying to save my relationship with her, if you cared about me so much you’d allowed me to be happy.” And with that he gets inside his car and drive off.

Your college didn’t waste time to make your drama the latest news, it was even worse when word got out that Mark had dropped out of school. You noticed the stares and the whispers. Those who were bold enough to mention how you were babysat by the ‘golden loser’ as they liked to say but were quickly silent when you cursed them out. Your friends had stayed by your side though, and even took the liberty to throw anything nearest to them to anyone who even dared glance your way. “I cant believe she really outed you like that,” Ten scoffs. “You’re not gonna let her get away with this right?” You managed to shrug in response, have lost much needed sleep. “You better y/n, we all know Mark isn’t her type. She’s definitely using him for his money.” Another friend of yours says. “Exactly I heard her on the phone one time, admitted the whole thing.”

“What?”

“Yup, wish I got that on tape-“ “That’s it.” Your friend send each other looks. “I know what to do.” “Really?” “I’ll need your help though.” With chesire smiles and sly grins they lean in to hear what you had to say. “We’re all ears.”

Mark had managed to land a job with one of the country’s most top companies. Since the scandal, Mark had succumbed to his parents help and got the job through them. And now, as part of the company’s committee, with his own office and personal assistants whatever free time he once had was gone. This meant no more hobbies, no more charity events and no more school. Maru has been keeping him on a tight leash, calls and texts tens of times each hour and expects for him to answer each and every one of them. Regularly visits him during his lunch breaks and expects him home no longer after thirty minutes of him clocking out. Mark had finally succumbed to a life of every sad average middle aged man who has ever lived. A confined life. But he tries to make amends with it, he reminds himself of what he did and it was only fair if he wanted his relationship and future marriage to work. But as the weeks goes on, it soon turns into months and his energy battery was heavily drained.

Stress levels at an all time high, he’s never drank so many cups of coffee and popped so many energy pills. A deadline was nearing and he was running behind on reviewing some paper work. He had been stuck in his office for hours without break, he’s sure to fall apart any second. “Sir, you have someone for you.” He hears his assistant say over the speaker phone. “Please tell my girlfriend I’m busy.” After a few moments, they were knocking on the door. With a soft sigh, Mark sets his paperwork on the table and goes to stand when the door opens. Shocked to see it was in fact not his girlfriend. “Y/n?” Closing the door behind you, he doesn’t hear the sound of a click. “What are you doing here? How did you-“ “Relax, I came to stop by it’s all.” Clearing his throat, Mark fixes his tie and sits. Motioning his hand for you to do the same. “Well say what you need to say I have a lot of work-“ “My brothers miss you.” He frowns sadly.

Hearing ruffling, he looks over to see you taking something out of your purse. “They told me to give you these.” There in hand were nothing but tons of drawings all of which included him in their family portraits. “They keep wondering when you’ll be back. Iseul misses his favorite coach.” Mark looks thoroughly through all the drawings, almost forgetting where he was currently at and with who. “Yeah well…we all gotta move on.” He clears his throat again and sets the pictures aside. Going to pick up his paperwork again, he stops when he feels you rest your hand on top of his. “What if I don’t wanna move on.” “Y/n…”

A loud screech from the chair is heard when you abruptly stand. Walking around his desk only to stand directly in front of him. “Don’t tell me you’ve moved on from me.” You turn his chair to face you. “I’m engaged.” “So.” “So?” Eyes slightly widening when you proceed to sit on his lap. “That shouldn’t stop you from figuring out who you really wanna be with.” “And you know who I want to be with?” “My birthday was last week.” “Happy belated birthday…” chuckling, you proceed to run your hand through his hair. “Mark, did you really think I wouldn’t figure out it was you who sent me that dress?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“The black dress. You sent me it as a birthday gift after you failed to get the stain out of my old one.” Shaking his head, he tries his hardest to avoid eyes with you. But you can see how flushed he’s getting. “C’mon baby..” you press a soft chaste kiss to his cheek. “I can make you the happiest man. Don’t tell me you enjoy working here.” He shrugs, “It’s not too bad.” “Then explain the eye bags.” Stopping your hand from touching his bags, he sighs. Before he can speak, his phone is being bombarded with text messages again. All of which were from Maru demanding his whereabouts. “Really? You enjoy being in a relationship with her?” “Look if you’re only here to change my mind then it’s not going to work-“. Mark goes to stand, to get you off his lap but you stop him. Holding his face in your hands as you murmur into his ear. “I’m not here to change your mind.” Another light kiss is pressed on his neck that sent the little hairs on his neck to stand. “I’m here to remind you how well we are for each other.” With no time to respond you press your lips up against his. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. He missed seeing you, to spend his time with you even when you stressed him out. It was always an adventure with you, so to have you in front of him and kissing him. He admits he’s a coward to not being able to follow through with his promises, how can he push you away when you’re exactly what he needs after days of relentless stress?

He hadn’t noticed he was kissing you roughly, passionately. Leaning further and further into your lips until he has you laying flat out on his desk. His hands busying themselves and unbuttoning your oversized shirt that he hadn’t realize was his that he left back at your house. Butterfly kisses down to your abdomen until he comes face to face with your jeans that he wastes no time ripping them off. Spreading your legs apart and seeing you were wearing a pair of red lacy panties that left little to the imagination. “Want your tongue Markie.” Mark’s lustful stare wasted no time in ripping them off you and leaning right in.

The marble floors resonate the sounds of the hard clicking of heels. The man at the reception goes unheard as Maru heads her way over to the elevator. She had visited many times before, and she knows exactly where her fiancé resides at. He knew better to answer her and yet he still had the audacity to disobey her orders. With every floor the elevator gets, a chime goes off. Maru waits impatiently, foot tapping as she stares for it to reach the highest floor. On the other end, Mark’s office begins to get louder with every lick you receive from him. Large hands grip your legs apart as he focuses on getting his full. Sucking your nub and licking figure eights on your cunt. Tongue prodding your hole and even rubs your clit with his fingers. He loves how loud you were getting for him. How your chest rose with every deep breath and tits perky and practically begging for him to fuck. Your grip on the desk hadn’t seized and your head had been thrown back and eyes shut as you relished in the pleasure he was bringing you. “Fuck Mark, feels so good!” You run a hand through his hair, grip tightening while he makes no intent to detach himself from you.

Maru had finally managed to make it to the top floor. Her heels clicking was familiar to everyone on the floor, immediately understanding who had arrived. “My fiancé.” Maru plainly tells his secretary. Her intense stare was enough for the poor secretary to silently nod and call for him.

“Mr. Lee your fiancée is here to see you.”

“Shit!” Mark swears as he pulls away from you. Grunting at yet another interruption from her, you sit up and hold him still. “Relax, not a word about my presence. Get rid of her quickly.” “Huh?” Pulling the two of you down, he sits on his chair while you hid underneath his desk. And in the very moment the door to his office is opened abruptly. “Oh Maru!” He squeaks. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” “I’m sorry, I’m just so caught up with work.” “Uh huh…” she inspects the room for any signs of you. “Was there something important that you needed from me?” She shakes her head, “When are you coming home.” “Just as soon as I file these. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour-OW, two! Two hours.” Maru furrows her brows at him, “Are you okay? You’re acting odd.” “Haha no just stubbed my toe.”

Under the table where Maru fails to see you had begun to undo his pants. Down to his thighs and enough to free his cock. Red angry tip that you waste no time shoving in your mouth. “Mark-“ suddenly getting a call, Maru checks her phone. Her facial expression changes at the contact and sends Mark one last look. “Alright I’ll see you back home in a few hours.” She says before walking out and speaks to whoever had been calling her. Mark lets out a sigh of relief as he looks down at you. “Are you trying to be the death of me?” You merely send him a wink before you go back to focusing on sucking him off. The memory of his fiancée immediately washing away from Mark’s mind as his focus is now entirely on you.

It reeked of sex, music played softly in the background as the curtains darkened the room. Lit candles and rose petals everywhere made it all the more romantic. Much to Mark’s whole claim about being faithful and what not, it didn’t take much for you to break his walls. Every night since visiting his office the two of you have been sneaking around behind everyone’s backs. Going on secret dates where like now, it ends with the two of you fucking each other’s brains out. Sexting became a norm and ditching friends and family occurred a lot more often. Now where you currently lie, in the arms of the man you love with bed hair and a tired look on his face, you massage his scalp. Slowly lulling him to sleep but he tried to stay up despite how relax you made him feel. Snuggling in between your breasts merely responding to you with a hum. “Mark?” He hums once more, “Did you hear me?”

Pulling away, Mark whines and tugs you closer to him. The bed automatically felt cold without your warmth, not only that but you were currently cock warming him and he didn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon. One move and he worries he’ll get hard again and after hours of fucking yourselves stupid he knows he’s not strong enough to go again. “Your wedding is tomorrow.” You state, there’s a silence before you hear a small sad sigh. Mark had known the time was ticking before he’s officially become Maru’s spouse. At this very moment he’s supposed to be at his rehearsal dinner, he was in fact there for a bit. But after seeing his friends and family come up to him, congratulating him for finally about to tie the knot. To see her family tell him he better treat her right, and when they’ll have their first child blah blah blah. He knew he needed to get the hell out of there for fresh air, heart thumping and head pounding and the only thought in his mind was you. So without any doubt, he phoned you and with a simple, ‘I need you’ you were there.

Now in your bedroom, rest of the family out for dinner while you were given no other choice but to stay given you’re still grounded. You chose to entertain yourself with your lover in bed. At least that’s what he is to you. Unlike Mark - who has been trying to ignore the fact that he’s getting married. That’s all you could think about, you can’t see yourself without him. You can barely stand not seeing him for over eight hours. Can you honestly say you can see Mark marry someone else, your enemy at that and be okay with that? Absolutely not. “I said leave her.” Now this broke him out of his tired state, head lifted from your boobs he stares into your eyes. “What?” “You heard me Mark.” There’s a moment of silence, and when you see him make the same look that says he’s about to disagree you cut him off.

“You don’t love her Mark.” “I know but-“ “But what?!” You were starting to get irritated, how can he possibly still want to marry her? There’s nothing she can offer him, nothing in her he truly fell in love with. Not in the way he fell for you. He’s never said it out loud, but you don’t need him to. On the days you visit him at your office he treats you more like his partner than he does when Maru visits. And word around the lobby, Mark seems a lot less stress when you’re around but then again they don’t know what goes on his office when you visit but they have speculations. “You love me Mark, not her.” Shifting to sit on his lap, like magnets his hands move to your hips to steady you. Your acrylic nails placed at his scratched up chest as a low grunt rolls off his tongue when you lower yourself on his now hardening cock. “I’m the one that makes you feel good..” leaning to press sweet kisses on his chest. Trailing their way up to his neck, “I’m the one that listens to your problems…” you can hear him take a large gulp, Adam’s apple prominent when he does so. “The one who I prioritize…” and lastly a deep passionate kiss to his swollen lips. Pulling him and slightly smirking when you notice he chased after your lips for more. “I love you for you…not like her who only sees you as a pawn in her game.”

With scrunched brows, he looks at you. “What do you mean?” Sighing, you get off him. He groans at the sensitivity and when had gotten off the bed he took it as opportunity to prop himself up against the bed frame. He watched as you walked over to your desk, pulling the drawer and out you grabbed a folder, setting it on his lap. “My friends caught sight of her not too long ago.” He opens in and he couldn’t believe what he saw. “Brandon Young, She’s been secretly dating him for about three years. Ring any bells?” It sure did, Brandon Young twenty five and just recently promoted to his department. Currently working on his floor and is secretary to one of Mark’s business partners. “Brandon?” “Flip the page.” He does.

There were more pictures. Of Mark leaving his shared apartment with Maru and some of an unknown car pulling in only five minutes after his departure. Out comes the very man and on the last few photos were of Maru getting out of the apartment and greeting him with a heated make out session. A voice interrupts Mark’s shock, looking up and seeing you had your phone in hand. It was Maru’s voice, she sounded as if she was speaking to someone.

‘Patience babe, I told you soon as I get his inheritance money the both of us will go on our promised vacation to Spain. Trust me, he’s too dumb and naive to suspect anything, he hasn’t even noticed we’ve been having sex under the same roof as him.’ A giggle is heard, ‘Still can’t believe he thought I was actually in the bathroom for 45 minutes doing my makeup. Thank god his boss was talking his ear off for him to even notice you sneaking in the bathroom after me.’ The recording ends.

Mark was quiet, stuck in his thoughts and although you couldn’t read his mind his face said it all. He felt betrayed and played like a fool. To think he felt so shitty to be doing this to her when all along she’s done it to him way before he’s ever worked for your family. And worse, using him for his money. He felt your hands cup his face, turning his head to look at you. “We can be together Mark, it’s not too late. We can live a perfect life together one where we’ll be happy forever. We’ll move away, far away from here and get married. Start a family and love each other endlessly, don’t you want that?” He stares deep into your eyes, he doesn’t say anything. And before you can add on to that, he leans in and catches you by surprise. Grabbing and tossing you onto the bed, hovering above you. “I want it baby.” He tells you after he detaches himself from your lips. Previously he only wanted to stay engaged with Maru for the lack of loyalty he had for her. He hoped that by marrying her, it’d make him less guilty of what he’d done. But he doesn’t feel that anymore, not when he knows there’s no reason to hold back from loving you freely.

“Lets run away together.” He mumbles, forehead rests on top of yours. “Just you and me, forget about everyone.” You to try hold back the grin, giddy to know you finally had him. In love and just as equally obsessed with you. “Tonight, let’s go tonight.” He whispers in your ear as he leaves kisses all over your marked skin. You agree, humming pleasantly when he nips at your sweet spot. “Tonight.” You feel his hands begin to roam all over your skin until they find your perky tits. “Horny again?” You tease, “Can’t help it you’re irresistible.” He murmurs, “I’m not complaining.” You press a peck on his nose. Pressing one last kiss on your lips before he turns you around, pressing your face on your pillow. Moaning you begin to feel his tip rub up against your clit.

One more quick fuck wouldn’t hurt before running off together.

Heels tapped angrily on the marble floor. A stressed out bride pacing back and forth as her bridesmaids try to settle her nerves. “He won’t pick up!” She yells, her mother going to rest her hands on her shoulder only to get brushed off coldly. “He was no where to be seen last night! I swear if he has off with that tramp!” “Nonsense Maru!” Her maid of honor shushes her up, fixing her hair and checking her makeup. “You made it clear you didn’t want him near her and he hasn’t broken that promise. I’m sure he had something come up don’t worry.” Taking a deep breath, she nods. Forcing on a plastic smile, “You’re right…you’re right, he would never do something such as leave me at the alter. That’s definitely not something Mark would do.”

Outside, chairs all facing the alter. Officiant checking his watch for the umpteenth time as guests are slowly becoming bored. The heat didn’t make anything better and now they along with the servants had to endure wearing a very expensive attire that’s now getting covered in their sweat. From behind them, they fail to notice the approaching figure until they walked right by them. In a basket, out they tossed what anyone would assume to be flower petals but this wasn’t the case. Instead, copies of the very same photos Mark saw were being tossed on the floor. Some flew over guest’s head, with widened eyes and shocked gasps they pick up the photos of the bride very clearly cheating on the groom with as at this point everyone knew to be one of the best men.

Dates at the corner to show just how far back the cheating had been going on for. In the black dress Mark bought for your birthday, you made your way to the stage. Taking the mic away from the officiant and turning to face the crowd, tapping on the mic as the noise resonated off the speakers. Clearing your throat, you smiled at the crowd. “Evening ladies and gentlemen. Today, I come baring bad news.” From inside, your voice is loud enough to catch the attention of everyone including the bride herself.

“The groom couldn’t make it as he is currently on his way to the airport.” The crowd erupts in gasps, all whispering amongst themselves. “As devastated any one would be in his situation, he chose to go on with his life and has decided to walk a different path. One where he won’t get married to a cheating, manipulative gold digger like Maru Kim.” Running out of the building, both groomsmen and bridesmaids right behind her. A look of horror is set on her face, “You’re lying!” She shouts immediately gaining the attention of the crowd. Gasping when she catches sight of them holding the pictures of her and Brandon. Turning over and seeing he turned his head to avoid confrontation. Clearly embarrassed by all the judgmental looks he was getting.

“That doesn’t prove anything! So what if we dated? That was long ago and we’re not dating anymore and I’ll be damned if I let some skank like you ruin my wedding!” Shrugging, you nod. “You’re right…the pictures aren’t enough proof. So shall we see some more?” Turning around, you move off to the side. A large projector screen which was meant to show pictures of the then husband and wife’s most ‘happiest’ memories. But as it turns on, it shows quite the contrary. On camera reveals Maru and Brandon on dates together, some where they kiss and others where they cuddle. Then it pans to a moment in which Mark calls her, ‘No yeah I’ll be home soon don’t worry.’ She speaks to him while Brandon busied himself in kissing her neck. A grin on her face and tries to push him away only to get pulled back in.

And lastly, the audio Mark heard. Everyone’s baffled and utterly disgusted. Turning to stare at the bride with a look of judgment. Some beginning to whisper not so lowly about how vile she is. Maru stood in her spot absolutely humiliated, no way can she prove her innocence now. And as she turns to look at Brandon, she knows he wouldn’t say nor do anything to back her up. Turning to her bridesmaids and seeing them only raise their brows at her, all silently criticizing her. Eyes on her mother whom can barely stare at her by how disappointed she is. “Can’t believe she used him for his money.” A voice says loud enough for everyone to hear. Holding up a white paper with writing on it, in bold letters does it say bankruptcy. “Unfortunately mommy and daddy got too cocky with their money and had lost it all isn’t that right?” More gasps, embarrassed her parents look away. “And you thought the only way Maru Kim can stay living the life of luxury is by drying Mark out of his. Brandon over here had been disowned by his own parents and therefore kicked from the family’s wealth. So the two of you decided to take advantage of the poor guy who simply just wanted to achieve his dreams. How sad.” Mark’s parents had been there, angered by this they stand to face her. “How could you!” Mark’s mother yelled. “Don’t yell at my daughter!” Maru’s father responds. “Don’t you raise your voice at my wife!” And like a chain reaction, the entire place erupts in shouts. And it isn’t until you speak into the microphone again do they stop.

“Congratulations Maru for managing to stay engaged up until the wedding day, it’s unfortunate the groom couldn’t attend due to obvious reasons but! Rest assured, he’ll be doing much better from here on out.” The ends of your mouth curl upward, tears boiling to the rim she shouts,

“You’re lying! Guys she’s lying!” But no one was convinced at that. “You just can’t accept the fact that I have something you can’t have, you’re just jealous you can’t be me.” She huffs.

“See that’s where you go wrong, because no matter what you do or…who you do. I’ll always have what’s rightfully mine.” From behind your back, you finally reveal what was wrapped around your finger. Large, white and bright. Definitely a lot more expensive than the one she has and a lot more pleasing to the eyes. The color drains from her face, and soon the others began to piece together how exactly you fit into this whole situation. But that wasn’t the most shocking of it all.

Because not only was it a surprise for everyone at the reception to know Mark is running away. That he’s running away with a new fiancée at his side, the very woman they heard he had a thing with a while back. But to also see that alongside the diamond ring wrapped neatly on your finger, there on your thumb and index fingers held up none other than what’s made out to be a sonogram. A picture of an 18 week old fetus that proved you were currently with Mark’s child. Traced back to the very first time the both of you had sex at the party.

“I guess in the end, you were the one who really failed. Isn’t that right Maru?” Stepping down the stage, you make your way down the walk way. Just about to leave you stand beside the now mascara stained bride, eyes still filled with anger and fists at her sides. Bouquet of flowers now terribly crumbled.

“Expect an Insta post of our wedding soon.”

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kikyo-bnha-imagines · 8 months

Note

Reader with a memory loss condition, any character, hella angst 🙏

BAKUGOU KATSUKI | MEMORY LOSS

Katsuki thought he’d lost you for good. The sight of you covered in blood, eyes squeezed shut, and barely even breathing... it was almost too much to bear. If he couldn’t even protect the person he loved most, then how the fuck could he call himself a hero?

But against all odds, you survived. The universe decided to have mercy this time, even though he’d failed to protect you. He’d fucked up, and the guilt would follow him forever, but at least he was being granted a second chance.

Unfortunately, your life had come at no small price.

“I have to warn you, Bakugou,” the doctor frowns. “She’s... different now. All of the healing and surgery have taken care of her life-threatening injuries, but she suffered severe head trauma, and it’s put her in a state of disorientation.”

Katsuki clenches his jaw. “What are you trying to say? I know it’s gonna take her a while to recover. It’s not like I expect her to be up and running right away. As long as she’s safe—”

“I’m referring to her brain. Well, more specifically, her memories. We did an initial screening, and it’s quite clear that she’s suffering from amnesia.” The doctor offers a sympathetic smile. “I just wanted you to know, so that you can prepare yourself.”

“...oh.”

Katsuki doesn’t know what else to say. Really, what can he say? You’re alive. That simple fact alone is worthy of celebration. He's just grateful that you’re still here, living and breathing. He doesn’t have to say goodbye to you. He’ll never, ever be ready to say goodbye to you.

“This is still a very early diagnosis,” the doctor reassures. “Following a traumatic event, some patients suffer memory loss for a few days, weeks, or in rarer cases, months, but it’s not guaranteed to be permanent. In fact, temporary amnesia is far more common. It just takes a while for the brain to repair itself.”

“I get it,” Katsuki nods. Right. It’s all going to be fine. You’ve just come out of a life-threatening battle, so it’s no wonder if your mind is in disarray.

There’s no need to panic. Katsuki loves you, and you love him.

As long as you’re together, whatever it is, you’ll get through it.

“If you’re ready, then you’re welcome to go see her now,” the doctor encourages.

Katsuki doesn’t need to be told twice. He steps into the hospital room without sparing a breath, and sure enough, there you are. Sweet, lovely [Name]. The love of his life, all covered in bandages, but looking just as beautiful as always.

Katsuki swallows his tears. He already cried his heart out when he first thought you were a goner, and he cried even more while you were in intensive care. There’s no point in crying anymore, not when you’re alive and well. Seeing him with a weak, broken expression won’t do you any good.

For your sake, he needs to be strong.

“[Name],” Katsuki mumbles. He walks over to your bedside and pulls out a chair so he can sit close. He isn’t normally much of a smiler, but being next to you like this—something he thought he’d never be able to do again—makes his lips curl up at the sides and tremble in relief.

You’re alive. Your injuries have been healed, for the most part, and there won’t be any lasting damage. There’s no reason why you won’t be able to keep enjoying life, just as you've done up until now.

Overwhelmed with emotion and the desire to feel the warmth of your skin against his, Katsuki reaches out to grab your hand.

You recoil immediately, and in that moment, Katsuki’s heart shatters.

“Sorry,” you swallow. “Um. I don’t... I don’t know who you are.”

He feels like he’s about to throw up. The doctor mentioned amnesia. He did mention amnesia. But... isn’t this way too extreme? This is like the kind of stuff that happens in movies, or when elderly patients are in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s.

You blink, searching his expression for a clue. “I’m sorry,” you frown. “I feel like I should know you. It sounds like you know me. But it’s just hard. It feels like my head is all foggy. I’m really, really sorry...”

And then you start crying. You cry and cry, even though you can’t possibly be to blame, and all the while, Katsuki is helpless to do anything but watch.

“It’s not—” He swallows hard, wiping his eyes so that he doesn’t start crying too. “I-It’s okay,” he chokes out. “It’s not your fault, [Name]. I’m Katsuki. Bakugou Katsuki. Does that name sound familiar at all? It’ll come back to you. I promise it will.”

“I don’t know,” you sob. “I don’t know. I just don’t know...”

He’s never wanted to hug you more in his entire life, but how can he? From your perspective, he’s nothing more than a stranger. You wouldn’t even let him hold your hand. All of those years spent together, all of those incredible memories you’d shared... they’re gone. Just like that.

“It’s not your fault,” Katsuki mumbles brokenly.

He says it again and again, but he’s not even sure you hear him over the sound of your own cries.

The past few months have been the hardest of Katsuki’s entire life, and regretfully, the days ahead aren’t going to get any easier.

Your amnesia is permanent. Or, at the very least, the odds of you making a recovery at this point are so small they may as well be zero.

Katsuki isn’t the only person you’ve forgotten. You forgot a good chunk of the classmates you went to U.A with, major life events, and even certain encounters with villains—including the very incident that nearly claimed your life. The doctor said it’s very common for traumatic events to be forgotten, and while Katsuki is glad that you don’t have to remember something so horrible, why did you have to forget all the good stuff too?

It’s just not fair. Katsuki knows he should be grateful. He still gets to see your pretty, smiling face, he still gets to talk to you and hear you laugh from time to time. None of that would have been possible if the doctors hadn’t fought tooth and nail to save your life. At least you’re still young, your body is in healthy, functional shape, and the personality he fell for is still largely unchanged.

Katsuki doesn’t want to complain. He doesn’t want to take what he still has for granted.

But it just really fucking hurts.

He hasn’t been able to hold you in months. He hasn’t been able to kiss you either. Even though he’s told you that the two of you used to date, you’ve forgotten all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. It’s taken time for you to let your guard down, especially since everything’s so difficult to make sense of.

You’re friends. At the very least, Katsuki is still a part of your life. But every time he cracks an inside joke or accidentally makes a reference to something that happened in the past, and he sees the confused look in your eyes, a part of him breaks.

Still, he refuses to stop trying. He’ll never stop trying. The doctors said that certain memories can trigger other ones, and in rare cases, even patients with severe memory loss were able to make a miraculous recovery.

Katsuki never used to be the type of person to hold out hope for a miracle, but nowadays, it’s all he ever wishes for.

“It’s pretty here,” you say, sighing happily. Your gaze flickers towards the beach’s shoreline, and you admire the gentle, rippling waves as the sun descends through the sky.

Katsuki just stares at you. “You’re prettier,” he replies.

“Oh, pfft,” you brush off. “Quit hitting on me.”

He wants to do more than just hit on you. He wants you wrap his arms around you and slam his lips against yours, meeting you in the most desperate, passionate kiss he can muster. If it was up to him, the two of you would already be rolling around in the sand right now, bodies pressed together so close that you could feel each other’s heartbeat.

But he can’t. You’re not ready yet. You’re not ready, and... you’ve forgotten. You’ve forgotten the happiest moments of his life.

So, he’ll wait. There’s nothing else he can do but wait. Starting over from the beginning is painful and gut-wrenching. It’s an endless cycle of despair. You might never remember. There’s a chance you might not even fall in love with him again.

But at least you’re alive. At least you’re here with him right now.

Katsuki will never stop trying, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much he cries. He’ll form new memories with you, and even if those disappear one day too...

He’ll just start all over again.

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #romance #mha headcanons #bakugou katsuki x reader #angst #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha oneshots #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Loser (incel) Reader and Sex-maid bot Yan. Reader orders their new toy same day shipping - grateful to the gods for not having to deal with the hassle of making themselves presentable to other humans, and no longer having to clean their room. A little mistake in mailing leads to them getting their robot a day later than expected, and a large crack in its visor. Reader is obviously pissed by this development, but powers the bot on to see the extent of the damage. It works just fine - minus the loss of its built in knowledge and abilities.

They know their prime directive, but they can't wash a single dish or fold clothes. Other parts of them still function so Reader is fine keeping them around and teaching them what to do while it warms their bed. The Bot feels so useless to their master. All they ever do is question them and break every vase they hold like the ditz it is. Their master even gave them the nickname of Melon likely for the damage they've taken. They'll probably have their memories erased when the repair team comes in....

"All fixed. Just a few unplugged wires at that nasty crack. There seems to be some other bugs, but we'd need to take it in to examine."

"You said they work now, right? It's fine. I don't want to have to teach them how to organize my desk properly again. Those figures are collectables."

Their master was letting them keep their precious memories?... The human had never been the nicest, but they weren't outright cruel either. It was almost....cute how protective of their belongings they were. It was their possession too... Fully capable of pleasing their master in all forms, Melon wouldn't waste their second chance.

They cook their master's favor meals without over seasoning or cooking it. They wash clothes and scold their silly master for wearing things multiple days at a time. They wait hand and foot by day and nights....nights are their favorite part. They sit quietly through their master's God awful attempts at flirting in the off chance they ever seek a human mate - but something's off. There's an ache in their chest whenever they imagine their master with another. Their answers to their master's terrible flirts comes start from that hole when the correct thing to do was tell them of their errors and why no human would want them if they said those things.

No human deserved them anyway... All their master needed to be satisfied - was them

Crackposts under cut - suggestive themes

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: My body pillow. It stains easy so put it down.

Melon: Ah, it's precious to you then? I'll take good care of it :D

Melon: Master, what's this? :)

Loser Reader: A knife. Be careful with it.

Melon: Oh, it's dangerous? I'll keep it far away from you! <3

Melon: Master.... who is this?

Loser Reader: My crush from highschool. Meant to throw that picture away after they rejected me

Melon: They don't mean anything to you anymore?... I think I've found somewhere to store that knife

Loser Reader: sighs My friend really wants me to meet their sibling. Guess I better get dressed.

Melon, on their knees: Master ~ it currently 1:14pm. Time for your daily bi-hourly head

Loser Reader: My wha- [ziiip] Fuck, wait-

Loser Reader, attempting to flirt: you are a moderately attractive person and in the case I snap and kill everyone - I'd go on the run and change my name with you... or save you for last. How was that?

Melon, wiping fakes tears: You have such a beautiful way with words, master

Stranger: Oh, hello- Is Y/n home? We meet online at while ago and they gave me their addresses in case I visit because I only live an hour away

Melon: Hmph, can you pleasure my master while rearranging their game library in alphabetical order at the same time? I think not. Good-bye!

#yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere android #yandere robot

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midnight-black2 · 11 days

Note

UAAHHSHWHEBW FINALLY SOMEONE WRITING FOR DOM READER😭

anyway can u write anything about Kai please 🥹 (I always thought he would be a perfect sub lol)

-𝘹𝘰𝘹𝘰

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒

pairing : kai (from voyagers) x reader

synopsis : kai needs to be put in his place, and who better to do it than you?

disclaimers : sub!kai, dom!reader, degradation, handjob, masochist!kai (only a little), mean!reader, kinda fast pace (sorry)

note : i had to watch voyagers to make this, but it was so worth it because like why is kai so fine?? like he's an asshole, but a hot one. anyways, hope you like this !

kai had been acting like an ass-kissing, cock-sucking dickwad ever since richard died.

for some context, he sucked up to zach, the person you hated most out of the entire crew. he would laugh at all of zach's rather rude jokes, they would walk through the ship halls together, standing tall with unnecessary pride as if they were God or something. you weren't quite sure what was happening, but you knew it had to do with the blue.

kai was a smart, sweet boy. but that was before. he would cross his legs at the table, speak with manners, he would even service others at times, especially you. whether it was making a plate for you (he seemed to always know what you wanted to eat), or carrying heavy things for you. but that was before. all of it was before. before everyone stopped taking the blue. before richard died. before you all needed a new group leader.

it all went to shit.

every single little thing. there was no in between, you either followed all the rules, or broke all of them. you believed in balance, it was the only thing that keeps people sane, yet there was none. you had been going crazy for weeks. with all of the noise, the ferocity, the smell of sweat and sex, everything was so overbearing, and nobody did anything about it. so when kai got hit in the head as a result of a fight and there was a meeting called over it, you were fed up. blue got rid of the emotions, and now that there wasn't any blue, and the emotions were getting in the way of everything.

"i for one don't know if there is an alien," the girl spoke. you didn't know her name, all you knew was that she was constantly doing the right thing. she was a little boring, but you didn't hate her or anything. her eyes were lowered, not daring to look zach or christopher in the eye.

"who cares what you don't know," zach spoke, annoyedly. you clenched your jaw, couldn't he just let the girl speak?

"if we repair the damage we can watch the surveillance video and-" she was cut off by zach.

"shut your fat, puss-filled face," you scoffed. how low, even for him. you saw the way kai snickered, you felt like slapping the two of them then and there. you pinched kai's right thigh, giving him a look of warning. he looked over to you, he gulped, yet rolled his eyes anyway.

"i have a right to talk," she responded, finally looking zach in the eye.

"you talk enough as it is, you bloated wheezing blister," he countered, with a smirk. everyone started laughing, including kai. you felt your blood boil. she was only trying to make a point.

"zach, she can talk," christopher interfered.

"you shut up too," zach muttered. he went on, and it escalated. it almost ended in the same way the fight ended last time. it was all a blur--everyone split up. kai and half of the others followed behind zach. you had it with him. you gripped his arm harshly. you pulled him down the hall, luckily no one noticed the two of you leave.

"y/n," kai called, brows furrowed, he was a bit angry. "y/n, what are you doing?"

"shut up," you ordered, through gritted teeth. he quickly complied, his breath hitched. you went inside an empty sleeping quarter, shutting and locking the door.

"you've been such a fucking brat lately, kai,"

"y-you can't do anything about it," he replied, stuttering, voice shaky. he knew damn well you could. you had this odd sort of control over him he couldn't quite understand. with the snap of your fingers he would be on his knees, consciously or not.

"yeah? watch me," you challenged. you crossed your arms over your chest, your patience was growing thin. "strip."

"w-what?" he was shaking slightly, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

"you heard me, strip." he listened. it seemed an ounce of obedience was still left in him--only for you, though. he started with his shirt, pulling it over his head. he was lean, toned. you couldn't help but stare, you would've smirked if you weren't so frustrated. he felt your eyes, they were gaping burning holes all over into his body.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down, leaving him in only his boxers. you walk over to him, and grip his raging hard-on.

"all you do anymore is think with your stupid cock," you spit out, looking him right in the eye. he let out a soft whimper. you swiftly backed him up against the nearest wall. you were surely manhandling him, but who was he to tell you not to? you pulled down his boxers, and they sat at his feet. he breathing picked up.

it was embarrassing, to say the least. he was naked and you were completely clothed. he felt so vulnerable, but it was even more embarrassing that he liked it. your hand wrapped around his cock, you squeezed quite harshly. you had forgotten how big he was, probably a good 8.5" when hard.

"fuck, y/n," kai groaned. did it hurt? yes. did it only enhance his pleasure? also yes.

"seriously kai? you get in a fight over a girl. you get hit in the head with a metal rod, yet you're over here whimpering like a bitch when i simply squeeze your dick? a little pathetic," you utter, a brow arched.

"please," he let out, subconsciously. he cursed himself internally, he knew you would only be harsher on him now.

"please what, kai? please fucking what? i don't feel like giving you shit. you take what i give you," you responded. you brought your fingers to his mouth, thumb prodding at his lips. "open."

he did as he was told, and allowed your fingers to explore his mouth. you pushed them as deep as they'd go before he gagged softly. he shut his eyes. as humiliated as he felt, your fingers were quite warm. you took them out, and he sort of disliked the absence of you digging around in his mouth. god, he thought he was so weird.

your hand returned to his cock, wrapping around it and pumping up and down quickly, without warning. he cried out, gripping your shoulder.

"goodness, look at you. wish someone would walk in right now. hear the way you moan and whine weakly. they'd figure out so quickly you're not quite as high and mighty as you make yourself out to be," you chuckle, looking at him writhe. although he was taller than you, it still felt as though he were underneath you.

"s-shit, y/n," he moaned, hips bucking. your free hand gripped his waist, keeping it pinned to the wall.

"stay still." you instructed, your hand on his cock speeding up a bit. kai's knees buckled, he felt his mind was mush, he was shaky and all thoughts of you consumed him.

"fuck y/n, i think im gonna cum," kai warned, opening his eyes to take a peek at you. he couldn't handle it. the way you looked so angry, so ready to snap him in half. if he kept looking at you, he would surely cum right that second.

"already? that's a little sad, don't you think?" you teased, hand on his waist making its way up his chest. you pinch his left nipple harshly, and he whimpers once again.

"oh my god," he moans. you could feel his entire body shaking and jolting with every move you made. "can i?"

"cum? i don't know. why should i even let you?" you asked, only wanting to hear him beg.

"please. fuck, please let me cum. i need to i really need to. i'm sorry! i'll-ill keep my mouth shut when you want me to," kai pleaded. you, at last, gave in.

"go ahead, cum," you said. he let go with a loud moan, anyone directly outside the door could probably hear. you moved to the side just in time so his mess wouldn't touch you.

"o-oh, fuck," he panted, sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor. you kneeled, your hand placed on his cheek.

"you learn your lesson?" you asked, smirking complacently.

"maybe." you rolled your eyes at his response, but couldn't help the smile that followed.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#dom!reader #dom reader #kai voyagers #kai x reader #voyagers #archie madekwe #smut

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mayajadewrites · 2 months

Text

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

warnings: eventual smut, this is a slow burn

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E: G R I E F

this fanfic is inspired by ariana grande's new album: specifically the songs 'I wish I hated you', 'we can't be friends', and 'eternal sunshine'. enjoy! let me know what you think, comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

You wish you hated him.

The walls you let down to let him in - they need to be rebuilt brick by brick from his damage.

Levi Ackerman.

You should've known it would end up this way. After 2 years of dating, Levi didn't want to ever get married, let alone have you move in with him. He had his house, you had yours. You slept over most of the time anyways, so what was the difference?

Your lives are entirely different. Levi is the President of Smith Inc, along side his best friend Erwin Smith, who is the CEO. He has a large home, housekeepers, and spotless counters. You live in an apartment that's not ideal, but it's home. You've always had to work two jobs to stay afloat, even when Levi offered to give you money. You refused because you wanted to make your own income and not rely on anyone. You work at a coffee shop full time and you accept online writing gigs. Levi never understood why you cared so much about making your own money, but he accepted it.

As you sit on your full size bed in your favorite sweatsuit, tears start to fall from your eyes. You look at your nightstand and see a small framed photo of you and Levi from his birthday last year. He doesn't like to celebrate it since it's on Christmas, but you refused to not acknowledge his birthday. You bought a tea tasting set from his favorite tea shop and set up a paint and sip at your house, but with tea.

In the photo is you and Levi, where he's sipping tea out of his favorite cup that stays at your house, and you're smiling from ear to ear. Tears fell onto the glass, covering Levi's face. You use the pad on your thumb to wipe the tear away as you put the photo in your drawer.

Levi dropped off a box of your belongings while you were at work yesterday, leaving them on your dining table. He still had a key since you haven't heard the heart to ask for it back. Your entire life with Levi was in that box.

Your heard the vibration of your phone on your desk, the noise irritating you. It's been going off for a few hours, but you haven't had the mental capacity to answer it.

You walked over to your desk, secretly hoping it was Levi that was trying to get in touch with you.

Missed Call from Hange: 4

Of course its Hange. She means well, but she if nothing is persistent.

You press 'call back' and bring the phone to your ear.

"Finally!" You heard Hange on the other side of your phone. "I've been worried sick about you."

Hange works for Smith Inc, but she quickly became a friend to you after Levi reluctantly introduced you.

"I'm fine." You look down at your nails that are in desperate need of a manicure.

"That's code for I'm not fine at all and Levi Ackerman broke my heart."

You stayed silent.

"He's in a weird mood today. Like, way meaner than usual."

"Okay..." You waited for something else to be said. "Is that why you called me? To tell me he's acting weird?"

"Well I called you 4 times to make sure you were alive. I know Levi dropped off stuff to you yesterday, I heard him talking to Erwin about it."

"What did he say?" You were more interested than you wanted to be. You shouldn't care about the man who made your entire world shatter.

"He said that he went in your apartment and was expecting more of a mess, but that it was impeccably clean."

You roll your eyes so far back you swear you could see the past. "I picked up a few cleaning tips from him so I clean more often now."

"He also said he wanted to see if there was any trace of another man being in there."

"That would be none of his business. It's been a month since we broke up. He should know me well enough to know I wouldn't even let a man in my home that fast."

"He specifically said he wants to be the only man that's ever in your apartment."

This statement surprises you. The only man? He let you let him go. He had no problem letting the last 2 years obliterate into the universe. "Well that's not gonna happen. What's done is done, and I don't do second chances. I'll get the key back from him."

"You can try." Hange laughs. "Anyways, lets get drinks after work! I know you're off today."

You wince at the thought of getting ready and leaving your house. "Hange."

"Come on. I've let you rot in your bed for a month."

"Fine." You sigh. "Our usual spot?"

"You got it. See you soon!" Hange swiftly hung up. Everyone needs a friend like Hange - one that will let you sulk but will bring you back out of the dark place you were in.

Once 5pm hit, you grabbed your purse and looked at yourself in the full length mirror. You opted for a cropped white sweater, subtly ripped jeans and leopard loafers. Your hair was styled in lose waves that cascaded halfway down your back. You sighed looking at yourself, unfamiliar with the reflection. You've been depriving yourself of self care, letting your mind be consumed with thoughts of Levi: Why did he let you leave him? Did he ever care for you? Did he ever love you?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a text from Hange.

Hange: I'm heading over now!

You: Me too.

You pull up to the bar - watching Hange's car pull up at the same time. "Hi gorgeous!" She practically jumped on you. "You clean up so nice!"

"Thanks, Hange. This is the first time I've gotten actually dressed in weeks."

You and Hange share laughs and drinks, finally letting yourself let loose. After being so consumed by your own thoughts, it's nice to let your mind be at ease with the help of alcohol.

You're on your 3rd drink when you watch the door open to the bar and you see the raven haired man that destroyed your life.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

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mistle10 · 4 months

Text

Gentle

Character: Scaramouche X gn!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst

Content warnings: mentions of self harm, self harm scars

Synopsis: Scaramouche x depressed reader who self harms. Two individuals who haven't been able to deal with their issues

Word count: 1.04k

Scara often found himself tracing his thumbs over your scars. Sometimes you would wake up to it, his touch gentle around your arms. Other times, he'd just come over to hold them.

At first you were surprised. For someone so brash to be so gentle, it was so... him.

"You know you can't be repaired, right?"

He asked, a bit bluntly, violet eyes looking up into yours.

Scara's dark hair spilled over the pillow next to yours, the tip of his nose almost touching your own.

"Yes," you responded. "But I can heal."

He scoffed.

"Humans are weak. You're... fragile. Healing takes time."

He wasn't wrong. But still, his hands stayed soft, his lips featherlight against the raised, gnarled flesh.

He's gentle when he can be.

He's never told you what it's like, being broken and fixed again. You've never asked, but you can tell it isn't something he's interested in discussing.

But you can sense it; in the way he twitches if you catch him off guard, in the spider cracks that run along his palms. They run up his arms, collecting just enough dirt to be seen-- scars in their own right; until he vigorously scrubs them back to being invisible. You can see yourself in his scars.

The way he kisses your arm, the way his thumb strokes the red lines that paint them-- you understand him more than ever.

▪︎¤▪︎

"I thought I told you," Scara mumbled. "Stop staring at me, weirdo."

The sun was setting, as you settled in a new inn.

"Can't help it."

You smiled softly.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," you said, your head in his lap.

He held your forearm, his thumbs brushing up and down over the soft skin. Every bump and scar was noticeable to him.

And he hated it.

"You've got new ones." He stated, his voice flat with disapproval. You couldn't see his face past your arm, but that subtle lilt in his tone portrayed frustration more than his knotted brows ever could.

The air escaped your lungs.

"It's not like I'm hurting you." You muttered.

Scara's eyes snapped from your wrist to you. He glared down, and the look was enough to make you recoil.

"You are." He said.

It was the way he spoke, the way he was holding himself.

You deflated, eyes fluttering shut in defeat.

"Why do you care so much about my cuts?"

It seemed like you'd had this conversation countless times before.

"You can't just be repaired." His voice was sharp, more akin to the way he interacted with others than you, "So why should you damage yourself more than you need to? Why should I watch you hurt?"

Maybe it was selfish.

"Why does it bother you?" You asked, genuinely confused. "It shouldn't, should it?"

He looked down. He seemed hurt, his hands holding your arm slightly tighter. He held your arm close, closing his eyes.

"You're human. You're flesh, and blood," he spoke, his voice soft again. You felt his soft breath against your skin, before his lips made contact.

"You're resilient. Humans are resilient, but they're… fragile.” he sighed, as if he'd been holding in air for a while. He'd been holding your arm for so long that the cold of his hands was now sharing your warmth. “You have such a small lifespan, you know–”

“Don't remind me.” You retorted.

Scara frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Then why do you hurt yourself? Why spill your blood? It's not suicide. It's no permanent solution, it doesn't solve anything. I don't want you to be getting sepsis and dying. I need you.” he forced a sound, like half a laugh and cry.

Scara was no stranger to suicidal thoughts. You knew this.

He leaned over, his back slouching over you. Slender hands released your arm, coming up to hold your face.

You blinked.

A tear rolled down your cheek, and Scara crumbled.

“I need you…”

Your thumbs brushed over his palms, tracing over the spider cracks he tried to hide so often. Delicate fingers stroked up and down his arms in an action that mirrored the affection he showed you so often. He knew your pain- he knew all too well. You didn't know much about him. But you knew enough.

He's gentle with you because you're human. You're human, and you're fragile, and he loves you.

He's gentle, because you're human.

And the thought alone rips your heart out.

His lips were soft, feather light, like every kiss he'd ever given you. You knew more than anything that he could never hurt you. Like a lamb, meek and unassuming, he became something docile in your arms.

"I need you."

He breathed, his voice soft, as if he was afraid of losing you.

"I know," you said, running your hand through his hair. "I need you too. It's just…” you paused. “I don't know why I hurt myself. I just need to."

Scara's hands cupped your face, and you pulled him closer, the warmth of his chest seeping into yours. For a doll, he was so warm. You always loved that about him. For moments, you could pretend that you were both human.

Lithe arms pulled you tighter, your forms pressed together like they were meant to stay. If he could have, you'd stay glued together like this for eternity.

Breathing softly, you pressed your lips together once more. His arms tightened, as if you would disappear for good should he let go of you.

“Please…” he croaked out. The strain on his voice was unlike anything you'd heard from him. “Don't hurt yourself.”

You felt the familiar heat rise to your face, cheeks burning as tears threatened to spill.

You'd always known he was a gentle soul. But for someone –anyone– to show such care for you… why did being loved hurt so badly?

“If you need to hurt something, hurt me.” He whispered, voice barely registering.

You gasped softly, eyes widening.

"I won't." You said, the words rolling off your tongue before you could stop them. "I'll live for you. Please, don't...”

You kissed him again.

And again, and again.

You're gentle with him. Because he's fragile.

Because you're human.

You're gentle with him, because he's a doll.

#genshin impact #scara x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x depressed reader #genshin impact x reader

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synthetickitsune · 9 months

Text

Like Oxygen ✧ x.mh

Pairing: Xu Minghao x reader Genre: angst, comfort Summary: Sometimes there are so many thoughts in your head you forget about the wonders of life. And sometimes life is so hard you forget how to breathe. Word count: 1.5k Warnings: depression, self-destructive tendencies

"I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or not but it feels like revenge."

Minghao's voice is that faux cold of feigned disinterest that he uses to hide his vulnerability.

Because it was supposed to be revenge, you think, it was revenge until it wasn't.

You don't acknowledge his words, let them hang in the heavy air of the dark bedroom. You screw your eyes shut so tightly you see white and try to imagine the quiet, tiny, hurt, sigh that leaves Hao's lips and that he tries to hide doesn't feel like a punch to the gut.

There's a limit to the strain you can put on the relationship before it gets irreparably damaged or breaks. When a person is as sensitive as Minghao is, it's hard to say whether the point is further away or closer than you thought. You know he'll try to understand and think deeper than simply believing you are ignoring him for the sake of upsetting him. Then again, him saying this, and in this way too, is a warning sign. A pretty bright, flashing, neon-colored one.

You suppose something did snap inside you after that fight. Well, a bit after that. At first you did indeed mean to give him the cold shoulder, because you were petty and, yeah, some things he said cut a bit too deep even if they were true. Then again, you were working through them. Until life happened, and work got busy, and you had to do overtime day after day and started coming home late and all you managed to do was wash up before falling asleep. Everything got kind of thrown out of the window then.

Maybe it's best if you keep ignoring him. Maybe if you're distant for long enough, it'll ruin things beyond repair and… well, it's not like you can find it in yourself to care right now. Maybe the pain would help you feel again. Maybe you just wanna feel like you’re right about something - even if it has to be Minghao inevitably leaving you because he deserves better. Maybe if you weren't already half asleep, you'd get to the point in the thought process where you'd realize how little sense that makes. Maybe.

Come morning, and the one after that and the one after that… you can’t even properly register your thoughts anymore. Everything just drags on for eternity and you feel yourself spiraling into lethargy that is only broken by a stabbing pain in your chest each time you see Minghao. Some part of you wants to spit his words right into his face, some part of you understands, and much, much larger part of you wants to run to him and cling to him and beg for his love.

You know he’s not doing this on purpose. You know he’s also busy. You know he’s, most of all, just trying to protect himself. It hurts nonetheless, more so because you know it’s you who he’s raising his defenses against.

But you need him.

You need him more than ever because this is hard and it’s too much, and you feel like weight just keeps getting added onto your shoulders, and yet you keep carrying it so it’s shattering you instead of breaking you at once. You need him but he’s so cold and far away and it feels like you’ve finally done it and he’s not gonna return. You will lose him and you’ll be right but it doesn’t feel like you’ve won anything because you played a stupid game and all you’re gonna get is a stupid prize.

When Minghao comes home, he expects the silence that’s been basically the trademark of your home for what, weeks? Months? It’s getting hard to tell and if he got to think about it any more he’d probably break down. He doesn’t get to, though, because the moment he closes the door and the sounds coming from the street can no longer be heard, he hears badly muffled sobbing instead.

It’s like an instinct.

His body moves regardless of his will, his legs carry him towards the sound in a rush and determination that ignores that he’s still wearing shoes and that the bag with his laptop hit the ground without the usual caution he puts it down with. His mind is blank and all he feels is a cold dread.

He barely registers where he is, where you are, he only comes back to his senses when his arms are wrapped tightly around your trembling form and he’s pulling you into his chest and tucking your head under his chin and he’s shushing you, whispering sweet nothings and trying to calm you down. He tries to be sneaky when his hands move slowly over your body, trying to feel if you’re physically hurt somehow. He needs to know you’re okay and he realizes that’s what he should’ve been doing this whole time - make sure you’re okay. But he was too hurt himself and he failed to do that and while he understands he was in no state to care for both you and himself, it still leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Shhh, y/n…” he murmurs and he feels his voice break, “Tell me what you need.”

“Just hold me,” you sob and he’s thrown into the ice cold water of regret and pain all over again. He’s so tired, his body is exhausted, and yet somehow he finds the strength to pull you closer and uses the last of it to hold you like that until the oxygen in your lungs runs out. And still he feels you nuzzling closer and your hands grabbing at his clothes like he’s your lifeline and after being denied the feeling of being important to you for so long, it feels addictive. This is what he wants to be to you. This, sans the crying, is what he wants to come home to.

“Breathe with me,” he whispers, but he only feels you move closer, feels you bury your face into his chest. But that’s not where you’ll find air to breathe. It feels like the cruelest thing he’s ever done when he’s coaxing you to pull away enough to look at him. He wants to keep reliving the moment you immediately lean your forehead against his like you can’t stand being without him if only for a second. He keeps one arm around your waist while he cups your face with his other hand. He brushes your tears away as gently as he can with his shaky touch. Your eyes are so captivating he can’t look away.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers and you’re close enough that his lips brush against yours. His hand never leaves your skin as it slides down your jaw to your neck, down your shoulders and lower until it finds your hand. He intertwines your fingers while he brings it up to his chest and splays your palm over his heart. “Please. Can you feel me? Breathe with me.”

And so you do.

He adjusts his breathing to yours first so it’s easier. He guides you like he always does - gently, lovingly. Slowly he helps you calm down and steady your breathing. Neither of you can tell if you take in a deep breath or if your lips meet for a kiss before you part.

It feels unpleasant, to part. You’ll have to face the past weeks now. You’ll have to explain. It makes you want to forget the last couple minutes, that really felt like a whole another lifetime, and imagine they were just a dream. You want to go back just to avoid the confrontation.

“I still want to hold you,” Minghao says before your flight reflex can win over the fight one, “If you want me to.”

You feel the tears flowing slower now, as you smile a wobbly smile and huff a laugh. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t push you into anything. He doesn’t push you away without meaning to. As you’d know he wouldn’t if you remembered sooner that this is Minghao who knows you best in this world.

You trust him with your soul to guide you through this when you slide your hands into his. You let him pull your along and let him take you to the couch. You know he’ll catch you when he pulls you down and makes you fall. When he pushes you against the back of the couch and traps you between it and his body, you feel safe.

He pulls the weighted blanket you keep there for times like these over your bodies. His arms fit snuggly around your body and it soon gets nicely toasty under the soft fabric covering you. You cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. It’s safe.

You’re safe.

And you know he’ll keep it that way.

You know he won’t ask, and you know he’ll wait until you’re ready. No matter how long that is.

Maybe this time you won’t have to run.

Maybe.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #svt angst #the8 scenarios #minghao scenarios #the8 x reader #minghao x reader #the8 angst #minghao angst

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tsaomengde · 1 year

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“The Mission”

A short story about love, time travel, healing, spaceplanes, and making the world a better place, even when no one will ever know.

---

After the TAG forces shot me out of my cockpit in low orbit, I floated there for about six hours. Something – probably debris from my fighter – had hit me in the back, hard, and I couldn’t feel anything below my waist. My suit’s maneuvering jets let me correct the initial nauseating spin I was thrown into, but they didn’t have sufficient thrust to get me out of my unstable, highly eccentric orbit.

My suit told me I had about eight or nine trips around Titan before my periapsis wobbled low enough into the atmosphere that drag would bring me down below escape velocity. At that point, gravity would catch up with me, I would fall, and I would crash into the surface and die. The suit had an emergency beacon, but no built-in communications beyond that. I was alone in the silent dark.

I sped around the moon at a little less than ten thousand kilometers per hour. The view of Saturn, for the parts of the orbit where it wasn’t eclipsed by Titan, was gorgeous. That was a small comfort, as my brain endlessly analyzed the ways I could go. A bit of debris from the battle could kill me outright at these speeds, or it could puncture the suit on a glancing hit and it would be a toss-up whether I would die of suffocation or extreme cold. My oxygen meter also claimed I had about three hours of air left, which meant I would probably be unconscious or dead by the time I actually hit the ground. And, of course, there was the matter of my probably-broken spine. I suspected I was bleeding internally from that.

Later, when I woke up in a hospital bed on the Agamemnon, they told me that the TAG brass had transmitted a formal surrender eighty-seven seconds after my fighter had exploded. I was officially the last casualty of the Earth-Titan war.

They fitted me with prosthetics so I could still walk, but as the physical therapist with the cute dimples explained to me, there was some kind of incompatibility with my chromosomal something-or-other that meant I couldn’t use them at a hundred percent, which meant I didn’t qualify for combat. My spine, which had indeed been broken, was too damaged to repair with conventional methods. That left experimental regenerative genetic surgery, which was more expensive than the navy was willing to shell out for.

So, at thirty-one, after thirteen years in the navy, I got out with an honorable discharge, a pension that was decent enough but far from what it would take to fix my spine, a chromium heart for my injury, and enough PTSD to fuck me over for the rest of my life.

---

“I don’t care about my legs,” I said to Kate, the first time we ever met. We picked a bar about halfway between us for our first meeting. She had a gin gimlet with cucumber simple syrup. I had an old fashioned. “They get me from point A to point B just fine. I just miss flying.”

“Were you good at it?” she asked, blue eyes very wide.

“I certainly thought so. But then some TAG dipshit blew me out of my fighter above Titan and ended my career, so maybe I was less good than I thought.”

“You can’t fly for one of the intrasolar shipping companies?” she asked. “Or transport?”

I gave her a patient smile. “Do you know what a pilot actually does aboard one of those big fusion torchships?”

“No, actually.”

“They point the nose where the destination is going to be, fire the engine for half the trip, then flip the ship around and fire the engine for the other half. There’s nothing to that. I miss flying.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I understand.” I could tell she didn’t, not really, but that she wanted to.

I moved in with her a few months later. Part of me wondered if it was a good idea, moving so fast, but I was two years from Titan and still waking up screaming in the middle of the night, convinced I was back in my suit, in the dark above the moon. The greater part of me, the selfish part, was happy that someone was there to touch me, to talk to me, to root me back in myself and pull me back to earth from up there in the black.

In that sense, Kate could have been anyone. I never thought of her as replaceable, but there was always a vague sense of guilt, of knowing that I was definitely getting more from the relationship than she was. I voiced this to her once, and she told me I was being silly, and that she loved me, and that was all she needed.

So when she first approached me with her idea for the Mission, I like to think it was that part of me, the part that wanted to be more for her, that moved me to say yes to what was honestly an idiotic idea. Not the part that missed flying. Just selfless altruism and desire to help the woman I loved.

I like to think that a lot.

---

We cracked time travel about a decade after I was born. Much to our collective disappointment as a species, it was not the fun kind of time travel that lets you go back in time and kill Hitler.

Kate, as she told me once we were living together, was part of a DOD think tank tasked with finding some kind of use for the technology. After a lot of experimentation, they came up with what Kate called the Four Rules.

1. It’s time travel, not space travel. If you want to meet Julius Caesar, you had best make sure you’re in Europe when you travel back.

2. It only works by going back. There is no forward travel because the future hasn’t happened yet. The only exception is returning to your point of origin.

3. If you actually do meet Julius Caesar, it’s because your meeting him will not change history in any measurable way. If you try to go back in time to change something significant, it simply doesn’t work. The little box makes the noise, it uses up a lot of energy, and then nothing happens.

4. The corollary rule to number three, then, is that when you travel back in time, whatever you do end up doing has already happened.

I asked Kate what this meant about determinism versus free will, and she primly replied that she was a theoretical physicist, not a philosopher. The DOD was not known for employing philosophers and paying them the kind of money they were paying her.

---

The Mission’s personnel consisted of four people. Myself, the heroic pilot. Kate, the brains behind the time travel stuff and the one who came up with the Mission to begin with. Leon, the aerospace engineer slash DOD contractor. And Ash, the director of the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. We would go over to Ash’s place, have dinner, and conspire.

Over one such dinner – mac and cheese with broccoli, I remember it vividly for no adequate reason – we discussed the logistical difficulties involved.

“We can’t use anything from the last century,” Leon was saying around a mouthful of mac. “All the guidance systems on those ships are keyed into the orbital satellite network. There’s nothing like that at the target time. We need a craft that can achieve orbit, rendezvous, and de-orbit in a single stage, without remote guidance.”

I nodded. “That means we need a spaceplane. Not just a fighter, but an actual spaceplane.”

Ash chewed over the problem as well as their food. “There might be an SR-75 in decent enough shape we could appropriate from the displays at the museum. The hardest part will be bribing the transport operators to take it to home base instead of, you know, a navy cache where highly dangerous military surplus equipment is supposed to go.”

I raised an eyebrow at them. “That’s going to be the hardest part? What about getting the parts to get it into decent working condition, or the fuel?”

Leon waved a hand dismissively. “Do you know how many spare parts I have lying around at work? How many millions of tons of liquid hydrogen and oxygen are stored in poorly-guarded places that I have access to?”

“No. I’m guessing the answer to both is ‘more than the general public would be comfortable knowing about.’”

“Exactly.”

I looked at Kate. “Is the magic box going to be able to send a whole spaceplane back, kitty?”

She wrinkled her nose at me for using her pet name in front of our friends, but let it go for the moment. “The magic box can send anything back given enough juice.”

“Okay, but is the shitty little battery at home base going to be able to give it enough?”

“Probably. If we strip everything nonessential out of the spaceplane, get the mass down as much as possible. I need to know the exact mass of the plane, plus us, when it’s ready for travel.” Kate shrugged. “If it won’t be enough, we can always add to our list of capital offenses and steal a torchship, then use its fusion reactor for the power.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Last resort.”

---

“I don’t really understand why we’re doing this,” I told her one night, in the silence following her helping me out of another flashback.

She shifted a little in bed so she could look me in the eye. “You said you were on board.”

“I am. I’d do anything you asked, kitty, you know that. And obviously I’m excited to get to fly again. But nothing we’re going to do is actually going to matter. That’s one of the four rules, right?”

With a little shrug, she began running her fingers through my hair, which I’d stopped bothering to keep short after I was discharged years ago. It was pretty long by now. “It’ll matter to us, won’t it? And to her?”

“I mean, sure, but the risk-reward ratio is way off. You and Leon and Ash could all lose your jobs, we could get prosecuted by the Justice Department –”

“Vee, why did you sign up to be a pilot?”

I stopped. “I mean, I always wanted to fly.”

“Yes, but what was the reason you put on your application? And the reason you told me on our first date when we were still trying to look really good and put together for one another?”

That took me back, and I snorted gently. “To make the world a better place.”

“Exactly. Does there have to be a minimum threshold of goodness increase in order for an altruistic act to be worthwhile?”

I weighed that particular bit of moral utilitarianism in my mind before I committed to an answer. “No.”

“So, that’s why we’re doing this. To make the world a better place, even by the tiniest, slimmest margin.”

I gently snaked a hand out from under the comforter to lightly boop her on the nose. “And the real reason, since we’re not on our first date and this isn’t an application you’re filling out?”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “I know how much you want to fly again. And I want to see my magic box used for something other than letting rich assholes reenact Bradbury’s ‘A Sound of Thunder’ without any of the nuance or lessons learned.”

“Dinosaur leather shoes is not the outcome you probably had in mind,” I agreed. The time-travel hunting industry generated billions for the government every year now.

We fell asleep that night, and the next morning, we took a magtrain to Vegas, and from there we went to home base.

---

Home base was an abandoned aircraft hangar in the middle of the Nevada desert. Leon had said something about centuries-old top-secret aircraft testing, when we first conceived of the Mission, and lo and behold, there was a facility with room for a spaceplane. We spent far too much money on the highest-capacity quantum battery civilians could buy, hooked it into the Vegas grid, and watched it take eight weeks to charge.

It had also cost far too much money to bribe the transport operators to bring the SR-75 here, but the deed was done and they hadn’t sold us out so far. They probably assumed we were aviation junkies. What domestic terrorists would bother stealing a hundred-year-old spaceplane when there were far cheaper and more effective ways to kill people, these days?

Kate, Leon, Ash, and I sat at a small table in a corner of the hangar, drinking coffee and going over the ascent profile. Ash’s part was done, having delivered the goods, but they wanted to be here for everything, and I certainly respected that. The spaceplane took up the majority of the hangar space, a sleek black dagger with barely a suggestion of wings to either side. The underside was dominated by a pair of huge jet intakes, and the rear of the plane sported three engine nozzles, the center much larger than either of the ones flanking it. A gracefully curved tail fin slightly forward of the engines completed the vessel’s profile.

“The plane looks like it’s in good condition,” Leon was saying. “I’ve sourced the fuels we need. The main problem is going to be the timing, not the equipment.”

“How so?” Kate asked.

I spoke up. “The SR-75 should theoretically be able to hit escape velocity just on the air-breathing engine mode, but the target has an extremely elliptical orbit, and we’re launching much closer to the equator, so we’ll have to adjust our inclination, too. That means either a lot of burns with the rocket fuel mode once we’re in vacuum, or a very steep climb to orbit. That pronounced an angle of attack might affect the engines’ ability to get enough air to achieve escape velocity.”

Kate blinked. “Still not seeing how that affects the timing.”

I pulled out my personal comm, laid it on the table, and put it in draw mode, so I could trace pictures on its screen with the tip of my finger. I drew a little ball, the Earth, and traced a messy, elliptical orbit around it. I indicated the very top of the orbit, where the line peaked like a mountain summit. “We have about a thirty-minute window to achieve rendezvous with the target. We need to rendezvous at or near its apoapsis, here, where its orbital speed is lowest and matching relative velocity will be easiest.”

I loved Kate, but it was endlessly amusing to me how she could understand quantum and temporal physics and articulate mathematical concepts I could never grasp in a million years, yet still not understand basic orbital mechanics. She gave me a blank look, then just said, “And that’s hard?”

“Yes. It is very hard, kitty. We are trying to hit a target the size of, roughly, a bullet train car, except the target is going twenty-eight thousand kilometers per hour. We need to come alongside it, match velocity with it, perform our docking maneuver, and then decouple. And the parameters of the Mission mean that there is exactly one half-hour window we can do this in if we’re going to avoid violating rule three.”

“I think the best solution is going to be adding some external rocket fuel tanks,” Leon said. “Not much, since we have to think about flight performance and transit mass for the magic box, but even a few hundred extra meters per second of delta-vee might make the difference in your ability to match orbits with the target.”

“Agreed. Just make sure the Goddamn things aren’t going to come loose at Mach fuck-you.”

Leon grinned at me. “I love your optimism, Vee.”

---

Unlike with most modern fighters, and indeed with even-older jet aircraft, the SR-75 did not have a fully enclosed cockpit. The pilot sat in a big swiveling chair in front of the instrument panel, and the main cabin of the craft was accessible from there. It was a spaceplane, and therefore supposed to be able to perform orbital docking maneuvers exactly like the one we were about to attempt, which necessitated the crew being able to actually get up and access the docking port without going fully extravehicular.

Kate sat behind me in a second chair that Leon bolted in there for her. She had the magic box in her lap, hooked up by a pair of very fat and long yellow wires to the bulk of the quantum battery, which squatted heavily just slightly off-center in the SR-75’s main cabin. (“Gotta keep that center of mass where it’s supposed to be,” Leon had said.) She was doing something with the box’s controls, squinting at the small readout which displayed some kind of complicated waveform.

“I’ll initiate the breach when we get to fifteen thousand meters,” she told me. “It wouldn’t do for anyone to actually see us at the target time, because then it just wouldn’t work, but I would rather not get shot down by our modern-day autonomous airspace defenses.”

“Sounds good,” I told her. “Hey. Kate.”

“Yes, Vee?”

I craned my neck around as best I could while strapped into the pilot’s seat. “I love you, kitty.”

Her cheeks darkened a little and she smiled. “I love you too.”

I keyed in the ignition sequence and the SR-75 roared to life. Leon and Ash, both standing a safe distance away outside the hangar so their eardrums didn’t rupture, started waving and giving us thumbs-ups. I gave them a thumbs-up in return, projecting more confidence than I actually felt, and brought the throttle up just a little.

The spaceplane practically leapt out of the hangar. Ruggedized, smart landing gear wheels hit the Nevada desert ground like it was perfectly maintained asphalt. Within twenty seconds I pulled back on the yoke and the SR-75 was in the air, starting a steep climb. I opened the throttle up the entire way and was slammed into my seat with the gee-force.

“JESUS CHRIST WE ARE GOING TO FUCKING DIE!” Kate screamed.

I glanced over my shoulder at her. “You okay, kitty?”

She was clutching at her chest, magic box forgotten, and for a long, terrible moment I thought she was having some kind of heart attack. But then she nodded, looking pasty. “I just got taken by surprise,” she shouted over the roar of the engines. “Sorry!”

“Okay!” I returned my attention to the instrument panel. We were already moving at a good clip, and the altimeter was increasing fast enough that even the digital display was having trouble keeping up. For a long, pure moment, I just relaxed into my seat, hands on the yoke, feeling the currents of air spiraling around the ship. Now, more than ever before my prosthetics, it felt like an extension of myself. I was flying again.

“We’re at fifteen thousand meters!” I told her.

Kate pressed a button on the magic box. Everything blurred like someone just messed with the focus on a camera, except the camera was my brain. When it re-focused, we were still in the plane, climbing toward space at an impressive clip, but all of the global positioning systems were dead. There were no satellites to receive data from, not in this era. However, we had accounted for this; the SR-75 had its own onboard suite of computers dedicated specifically to calculating orbital information.

It was at this point that things began to go wrong. I felt a sharp tug on the yoke. Swearing to myself, I corrected, keeping the plane on course, and keyed a status readout. The SR-75’s onboard systems insisted that nothing was wrong, but that the plane was experiencing significant and unexpected drag.

It hit me. “Fuck me!” I snarled. “Leon’s fucking external fuel tanks! I told him they needed to be secure!”

“What’s going on?” Kate asked.

“One of the external fuel tanks Leon spit-soldered onto this Goddamn thing has come loose, and the drag is killing our velocity,” I told her. “I need to get it off of us, now.”

My gaze was fixed on my instruments, so I couldn’t see the horror in her big blue eyes, but I could hear it loud and clear in her voice. “How?”

“Shearing force. Hold on, this is going to fucking suck.”

I stomped down on one of the SR-75’s rudder pedals with my right foot, the motion almost as smooth as it used to be even with the prosthetic, and spun the plane in a sharp, hard three-hundred-sixty-degree roll. I nearly blacked out, and I know Kate did for a few seconds, since she didn’t go through flight training. But there was a sudden, violent wrenching feeling that went through the yoke into my arms, and afterward the drag was gone.

“Did it work?” Kate asked blearily.

“Yup. And apparently an external fuel canister from several hundred years in the future crashing in the Nevada desert doesn’t fuck up the timeline, since we’re here at all.”

“Are we still going to be able to make it?”

I eyeballed the delta-vee readouts on the navigation display. The lost fuel tank didn’t exactly have a ton in it, and of course, the reduced mass of the ship now that it was gone meant the net loss was slightly ameliorated. But even so, the situation was grim.

“Well, yes and no,” I told her.

“That is never the answer anybody wants to hear, Vee.”

“I should, should, still be able to match velocity with the target and achieve rendezvous. But our margins are basically nil now. If I don’t do this perfectly, we’re going to miss completely.”

I felt her reach out and place a hand on my shoulder, give it a squeeze. “You can do this, Vee. I know you can.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” I told her, and was surprised to hear that it didn’t come out sarcastic.

The ascent became a delicate balance. I was trying to hit escape velocity while still using the air-breathing mode of the engines, which was incredibly efficient compared to the rocket fuel. But as I got higher, the engines needed to work harder to ram enough air in to function, which meant my thrust decreased. Without the global positioning system to feed me flight info, I needed to do it all by feel and eyeballing the orbital information given to me by the onboard computers.

I trimmed a couple degrees off my angle of attack, trying to find the sweet spot between still gaining altitude and not starving the engines of air in the increasingly-barren stratosphere. The SR-75 shuddered, engines straining, and began to threaten me with a stall. I swept my gaze across my instruments. “Fuck,” I muttered, and switched the engines to rocket mode.

Instantly, we were slammed back into our seats again as our thrust suddenly increased dramatically. I glanced at our projected apoapsis, counted to three, then shut the engines down.

In the sudden silence in the absence of the engines’ roar, Kate asked, “Did we do it?”

“Yes and no.”

“Goddammit, Vee!”

I looked over my shoulder at her and gave her my most reassuring grin. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. The drag from the fuel tank breaking loose meant that we lost velocity, which meant we took longer to get to the speed we were needing, and the spin I had to put the plane through shifted our course a little bit. Our inclination is about five degrees off of where it should be.”

“Okay. What does all that mean?”

“We are going as fast as we need to be, but we’re not in the place we need to be going that fast. I’m going to need to do correction burns at certain points in our ascent. We can still make our rendezvous, but we won’t have the fuel to do a proper deceleration burn. I’m going to have to perform emergency aerobraking.”

“In English, Vee!”

“On our way back down I am going to use the atmosphere to slow us down the old-fashioned way.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Is this plane designed for that?”

“Probably.” I shrugged. “Assuming we don’t burn up, I’ll be able to switch the engines back to air-breathing at a certain altitude and land without the need for lithobraking.”

I could see her trace the Latin roots of litho and arrive at the gallows-humor definition of the word. She went even paler than before. “Certainly hope so.”

I let my grin fade as we continued to coast on our momentum, rising inexorably up through the mesosphere into the thermosphere, our speed gradually slowing as we crested toward the very top of our parabolic arc. At key points, I reoriented the SR-75’s nose, now using chemical thrusters to maneuver the craft in the absence of air for the control surfaces to manipulate, and fired the engines in rocket mode, tweaking our orbital inclination until it matched that of the target.

The computers suggested to me, at that point, that we would be able to achieve equal relative velocity, and it would leave us with enough delta-vee to then de-orbit ourselves. We would not be stuck in orbit forever until we died. I blinked hard, banishing the memory of Titan as it suddenly threatened to overwhelm me, and repeated the affirmations Kate taught me. I am not there anymore. I am here, now. I am safe.

Safe was, of course, a relative term in the vacuum of space, going tens of thousands of kilometers per hour. But Kate took my hand from behind and gave it a squeeze, and I was good again.

“We’re going to do a long burn once we’re within ten kilometers,” I told Kate. “That’ll bring our relative velocity to zero. From there we just point our nose at the target, fire the engines for half a second, get as close as we can until we’re either about to hit or miss, fire them again to bring ourselves back to zero relative velocity, and then we do that over and over until we’re close enough to dock.”

“I don’t need to know all the mechanics,” Kate replied, and I could see she was fighting to keep her teeth from chattering. The environmental controls were working just fine, so it was fear she was dealing with, not cold. “I just trust you, Vee. Make it happen.”

I suited action to words. It took ten long, arduous minutes, and by the end of it we were very short on time to actually execute the retrieval, but I successfully brought the SR-75’s docking port, which sat on the dorsal surface of the spaceplane, in contact with the target’s own.

Not that they were remotely designed to be compatible, being hundreds of years apart in origin, but fortunately the SR-75 had the advantage of smart materials incorporated into its construction. Its port sealed itself tight around the target’s, flashing a green light and hissing open to reveal the shiny metal surface of the target.

Kate was already out of her seat, plasma torch in hand, and the acrid smell of it hit my nostrils as she ignited it and started cutting through the ancient hull like butter. It was joined less than a minute later by new smells: faint traces of iodine and ethanol, urine, feces, and a wet, animal musk.

And, of course, I heard barking.

“Got her!” Kate called to me. “She’s in pretty rough shape, but she’s alive!”

“Strap back in, and get her secured too,” I told her. “We’ve passed apoapsis and I need to fire the engines right now for the Oberth effect or we’re going to be stuck in orbit forever.”

I keyed in the command for the docking port to close on our end and release. The leftover atmosphere inside the target puffed out of it in sudden decompression, pushing our two crafts apart, but not hard enough to seriously perturb either of our orbits. That was the engines’ job, and I brought them to life as soon as we were clear.

They sputtered out as they burned the last of the rocket fuel. I looked at our orbital readout. “Ah, shit,” I muttered. “This is going to be a bumpy ride.”

---

We all but rammed into the atmosphere with the entire length of the plane. The yoke bucked in my hand and the instrumentation suggested to me that I was a fucking moron that had doomed us all, but with polite numbers instead of those exact words. I kept an iron grip on the yoke, worked the rudders with both my leaden feet to keep us perpendicular to our approach vector so we would generate more drag and thus lose more speed, and prayed to every God I could think of. Behind me, Kate’s teeth were audibly chattering, but she managed to avoid screaming again, and the dog was remarkably quiet.

The interior of the SR-75 got incredibly hot, naturally. The instrument panel helpfully informed me that it was almost fifty-five degrees Celsius inside, and that was with the life-support system working as hard as it possibly could to cool it. The one saving grace we had was that the spaceplane’s designers had anticipated the need for this kind of extreme aerobraking, and the skin of the craft was designed to tolerate it – in theory. I sweated, and I panted, and I watched our velocity slowly decrease until we were no longer going to boomerang back up out of the atmosphere.

Then I pointed the plane’s nose down, let gravity take over, and switched the engines back into air-breathing mode.

They decided they did not want to start.

“Well, we’re fucked,” I laughed.

“This is a plane, right?” Kate asked through clenched teeth. “Aerodynamic? You can fly it without the engines, right?”

“Well, glide, yes. Fall slowly, yes. Land… maybe.”

I let us half-glide, half-fall until we were back in the troposphere. “Magic box time,” I told Kate.

Everything unfocused again, and when I was able to see once more, my global positioning displays were back online. They told me that, if I did nothing, we were going to crash into the ocean just off the coast of Hokkaido.

I tried the engines again. Still nothing. The reentry had fried them, as far as I could tell.

I started the plane’s nose trending up again, trying to bring us out of the dive and into a climb. The control surfaces bucked and the plane fought me.

“I’m sorry, Vee,” Kate said.

“Don’t start,” I told her. “We’re not dead yet.”

“I couldn’t go back and save you from what happened at Titan. I thought, if I could save Laika, maybe –”

“I know exactly what you were thinking, kitty.” I looked back at her, and the scared-looking mutt buckled into her lap. “It’s okay.”

“I just – when I read about how she died, all alone, in that terrible little capsule –”

“I said don’t start, Kate. I said it’s okay and I meant it.”

She kept going like she hadn’t heard me. “She was supposed to have enough food and oxygen for a week. But the satellite was rushed, and the temperature control system failed. So when she was –”

“FUCK me!” I shouted.

That finally got through to her. “What?!”

“Temperature control.” I quickly hit a series of switches. “The jet intakes were superheated by our reentry. When you switch the engines to rocket fuel mode, they have shutters at the front that close so you don’t get trace amounts of gaseous oxygen mixing with the liquid fuel. Those shutters are probably half-melted shut.”

“And?”

“There’s an emergency release that just drops them completely.” I pressed the button, felt the SR-75 shudder as explosive bolts fired and it shed hundreds of pounds of metal. “Okay. Now –”

I was cut off as the sudden force of the engines firing slammed me hard into my seat. The plane began to corkscrew wildly as the engines put out differing amounts of thrust for the first few moments until the oxygen feeds equalized. Clearly one of the intakes had had less of its shutters blown off than the other, and the plane had needed some time to adjust.

Kate coughed. “The engines? They’re working? We’re not going to die?”

“Oh, we’re still going to die,” I told her. “Eventually, of old age. But probably not today.”

She smacked the back of my head. “Jackass.”

---

The vet gave us a very suspicious stare as we paid our bill and accepted Laika’s carrier back from his nurse. “I have never seen an animal in that kind of shape before,” he said. “Malnourished, half-dead from heat exhaustion, matted shit in her fur, and primitive bio-monitoring equipment surgically grafted into parts of her. I assume you didn’t do this, since it would be colossally stupid to come into my office and ask me to fix her up if you did.”

Kate shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t us. She’s a stray. Found her while we were out on a trip. We felt so bad for the poor thing that we brought her back with us.”

Somewhat mollified, the vet nodded. “Well, make sure to give her the antibiotics for the rest of the week, and call me if there’s anything else she needs.”

We stepped outside, and I opened the carrier to let Laika out. She staggered out, still a little loopy from the anesthesia, and I got her leash onto her without too much trouble.

“You know,” I said to Kate, “when we first shacked up, I said I didn’t want any pets.”

She grinned at me. “For someone who was so against the idea, you went very far out of your way to get me one anyway.”

---

About six months after we brought Laika home, a very humorless man in a snazzy uniform, accompanied by many more humorless men in uniform with large guns, came and visited our house. The humorless man in charge sat and chatted with us for a while, and Laika sat in his lap and let him give her pets.

Nothing else ever came of the visit.

There is no neat bow to tie on this story, unfortunately. I still wake up screaming in the middle of the night, though not quite as often. That probably has more to do with the passage of time and a lot of therapy than pulling a time-travel dog rescue, though. The only point to any of it is that we spent a lot of taxpayer money (since Kate, Leon, and Ash are all paid by the government) and risked our lives to make the world a better place, even by the tiniest, slimmest possible margin.

And perhaps having read about it will have made your world a little better too.

#writing #my writing #story #short story #science fiction #sci-fi #spaceplane #cw: ptsd #ptsd

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brienneoftarth1989 · 1 year

Text

“This was sooooo goooood…😛 Can you do a smut for our Captain Phasma? Wiiith Daddy vibes 😏😎” requested by Nicole on A03

Yes Captain NSFW

Captain Phasma x fem reader

Next / Series

Summary: It’s that time of the month where mandatory training is necessary. You and Phasma have your one-on-one training session but things get a bit heated.

Warnings: daddy kink, dom/sun kink, fingering, cunnilingus, begging, overstimulation

Requests open

———————————

It’s that time of the month again, mandatory training. This was never something you enjoyed but in order to be kept in good shape it was necessary. It was a week-long training regime and the last two days were spent doing one on one sessions with your division leader. In your case that was Captain Phasma. For whatever reason you were always the last one called for one to one training which meant you had the whole day to do whatever you wanted.

You decided that you needed to be productive today because you knew if you weren’t then you would most likely get a bollocking from Phasma later tonight. So throughout the day you were in and out of the gym making sure that you were keeping on top of your physical health. If you weren’t in the gym then you were in your quarters brushing up on your studies.

It’s important that as a stormtrooper that we know what is going on and that when technology advances we are learning how to run the new equipment correctly. It’s happened before when people haven't kept up with their work and accidents have happened because of it. Thankfully no one has been seriously injured from these accidents yet but the aircrafts ended up getting the most damaged which is costly to repair.

At about 16:00 you decided to retire to your quarters after coming out of the gym for the last time. You needed to relax to make sure you rested well for the evening. Your time slot always seemed to land between 20:00 till 22:00 at night. It was a bit late for your likings but you weren’t going to tell that to Captain Phasma.

You decided that a nap would most likely be the best idea. You got changed into some more comfortable clothing before jumping into your single bed. It wasn’t the best but it does its job. You set an alarm to wake you up in three hours so it would still give you an hour to sort yourself out. You let sleep overtake your aching body as you snuggled up in bed.

Three hours later your alarm was blaring in your ear. You lazily rolled over, turning the alarm off. You really couldn’t be bothered to move but you knew if you didn’t you would regret it later. You managed to pull yourself out of bed taking yourself over to the small kitchen to make something for dinner.

A cheese omelette was your meal tonight. You needed the protein and it would keep you full for a while. After dinner you made yourself a protein shake that you could drink between now and the end of your training. You also decided to fill another bottle up with ice cold water. You were definitely going to need it because you knew how rough Phasma could get.

Once that was all sorted you got into some clean workout gear. It was now 19:30 so all you had to do now was wait in your quarters until Phasma called you down to the training centre. While you waited you continued to drink your protein shake while watching some intergalactic television. Nothing interesting was ever on but it was better than sitting in silence.

At about 19:55 you finally heard Phasma call you down to the training centre. Finally you thought to yourself. You would much rather be doing something productive rather than sitting in your quarters waiting around. You grabbed your drinks, your training towel and a snack before walking down to the training centre.

As you were about to walk in, one of your friends who had obviously just finished their own one-on-one training quickly grabbed your hand before entering the room. “I would be careful tonight y/n” he said, making you stop in your tracks. “What do you mean?” you asked confused as to what could be happening.

“Captain is on one tonight. Everything is pissing her off. I made the slightest error and she basically exploded” he said with a worried expression plastered on his face. “I’m sure I will be fine. She has probably had a rough day and taking it out on us once again” you laughed slightly.

His facial expressions did not change. He was serious. “Ok thanks for the heads up. I will try my best not to piss off the Captain anymore than she is” you said to him before opening the door and making your way into the training centre. You went into the locker room placing your towel and snack on one of the benches before grabbing your drink and heading to the training room where hopefully you would find Phasma.

Any other time you would put your belongings in a locker but as it was just you and Phasma in the training centre you didn’t think it was necessary. Plus the only thing you would be missing was a towel and your snack so nothing valuable. When you finally made it to the room you would be training in you could see Phasma pacing back and forth waiting for you to arrive. You were early so they couldn’t be angry so you thought.

“You’re late,” Phasma said with a stern look plastered on her face. “Sorry Captain it won’t happen again” you said as you placed your drink on the ground and stood to attention waiting for Captain Phasma’s orders. “First hour you will be doing shooting practice with a variety of weapons. Second hour we will be doing one-on-one sparring practice in the gym” she said walking over to the shooting range as you followed behind her.

You saw a number of different weapons set up in one of the cubicles that you assumed Phasma wanted you at. “Alright, I want you to be working on your aim today with a variety of different weapons. I will be observing you in a number of different ways. If I believe you are not up to standard then you will have to make time for more training in the firing range” she said sitting down grabbing a clipboard.

“You may begin” she said as you walked up to the weapons picking from the range in front of you. The task was relatively simple for you as you trained everyday in the firing range. You could tell Phasma was impressed as you got headshot after headshot with each weapon. When you got to the final weapon you realised that this was one that you had not worked with before.

You aimed the weapon but due to the power of it the shot missed the target completely. You tried again but yet again missed. You sighed out of frustration as this was the one weapon you couldn’t seem to fire correctly. “Don’t worry about it y/n, just keep practising with this one in your training. Other than that you have passed this with flying colours” Phasma said looking at you.

She could tell you were disappointed but just let you get on with things. “You have a 10 minute break and then I want you in the sparring room” she said, putting down her clipboard and walking out of the firing range. You went back to the locker room to have your snack and just waited for the 10 minutes to go by.

Once your break was over you made your way over to the sparring room to see Phasma in a tight tank top and sport leggings. Fuck she was hot. You’ve never seen Phasma like this. Normally Phasma is always in her armour so to see her like this made your core ache. No one knew that you liked women so you really had to keep things together.

“Alright so for our sparring session today we are going to be working on your defence. I will be making a number of moves at you and I want you to defend yourself the best you can with just your hands. This will hopefully help you if you ever get disarmed” she said, getting into her fighting stance.

You readied yourself and waited for her attack on you. She made her first move which you were able to block. You continued to do this dance where she would lunge at you and you defended yourself stopping yourself from landing on your arse. However as the session continued you found yourself getting tired which caused you to lose focus on the task at hand.

Eventually Phasma managed to knock you on your back which resulted in you just lying on the floor. “Fuck sake” you mumbled to yourself out of frustration. “Again” Phasma said, waiting for you to get back on your feet. You got back up and the same thing happened again however the last time you ended up on your back you grabbed Phasma bringing her with you.

So there you both laid with Phasma pinning you to the ground however as she went to get up her knee grinded against your aching core which caused you to let out a moan. “Mmm fuck daddy” you whispered thinking Phasma didn’t hear. However when you looked up your eyes immediately met Phasma’s dark lust filled eyes.

“What did you say?” Phasma whispered in your ear. You didn’t know if you were in trouble or if Phasma felt the same way as you. “Ummm nothing” you whispered trying not to get yourself into more trouble. Phasma then moved her knee again so it came in contact with your covered cunt. “No, I believe you said something. What was it you called me? Daddy was it?” she moaned in your ear.

You let out a deep moan as you instinctively bucked your hip into her knee trying to pleasure yourself further. “What do you want daddy to do?” she moaned, continuing to bring you closer to an orgasm with her knee. “I want daddy to fuck me! Please daddy I need you to make me cum” you moaned into her neck.

You were so close to cumming and Phasma could tell because just when you were about to cum she pulled herself away from you causing you to let out a whimper. “You cum when daddy tells you to, do you understand?” she whispered in your ear. “Yes daddy” you whimpered.

“Good now stand up and strip, daddy is going to worship that perfect body of yours” she said standing up allowing you to stand. While you started removing your clothes Phasma locked the door so no one would disturb you both. When she turned around you were still removing your clothes so she just stood and enjoyed the sight in front of her letting out a moan when you removed your bra and panties.

You looked up to see Phasma eyeing up your body enjoying the sight in front of her. This made you feel a tad self conscious so you instinctively tried to cover your body which was a grave mistake on your end. “Did daddy say you could do that?” she asked, walking over to you starting to lose her own clothing.

“N..No daddy” you whispered as you looked up into Phasma’s eyes. “On the floor with your legs spread and your arms above your head” she said sternly which made you follow her orders instantly. You gasped as your naked body came in contact with the cold floor which made Phasma chuckle.

“Don’t worry baby girl I will have you sweating in no time” she laughed as she crawled on top of you leaving red marks all down your neck, on your breasts before coming down to your dripping wet cunt. She slightly blew on your soaked pussy causing a shiver to shoot through your body. “All this for daddy? You’re dripping wet. How desperate are you for me to touch you?” she moaned, leaving little kissing up your thighs and near your cunt but never on it.

“I need you daddy. I need your tongue, I need your fingers deep inside me. Please daddy fuck me” you moaned. That was all Phasma needed to hear before sliding her tongue up the length of your folds. You let out this ungodly moan at the touch of Phasma which only seemed to spur Phasma on even more.

She continued to use her tongue to taste your wetness before finally devouring your clit. She traced circles on your clit and on the odd occasion started suckling on it which made you buck your hips in pleasure and spread your legs even further to give Phasma better access to your aching cunt. You were getting close and Phasma could tell as your breaths were getting deeper and your moans getting louder.

“You going to cum for daddy?” Phasma said briefly before going back to paying attention to your throbbing clit. “Can I come daddy? Please, I'm so desperate for you. I want you to lick up all my cum daddy” you moaned throwing your head back as Phasma continued to torture your clit. “Cum for daddy baby girl” she moaned.

Upon hearing this you felt yourself cumming within an instance. “Fuck daddy I’m cu..cumming” you pratically screamed. Phasma helped you ride out your high before eventually just leaving little kitten licks on your clit which sent bolts of pleasure throughout your body. She wasn’t done with you and you knew it.

“Hands and knees now” Phasma said sitting up allowing you to get in the desired position she wanted you in. “Pick and number between one and four” Phasma simply stated once you were in the position she wanted you in. “Two” you said randomly. Upon hearing that Phasma sucked on her index and middle finger before slowly entering into your tight pussy.

“Fuck your so wet for daddy” she moaned into your ear as you leaned over your back wrapping her arms around your waist. You waited for her to move inside you but she didn’t. “Please daddy” you moaned out hoping Phasma understood what you wanted. Of course she knew but she wanted to hear you beg. “What do you say?” she asked. “Please daddy fuck me with your fingers” you moaned trying to move your hips slightly.

Thankfully Phasma didn’t notice that action of yours as she thrusted her fingers deep inside your pussy which caused you to scream at the sudden fullness in your pussy. Fuck she felt good you thought to yourself. Phasma eventually found a pace that seemed to get you to the edge quite quickly. “I n.need to c.cum” you moaned as you felt Phasma’s other hand make its way down to your clit and start rubbing small circles on it.

“Cum for daddy baby girl. I want you to cum over and over again for me” she moaned as she thrusted her fingers deeper and played with your clit and that's just what you did. You came not once, not twice but four more times. You were exhausted and overly sensitive. Phasma finally pulled out which resulted in you letting out a small whimper at the loss of contact but instantly moaned as you watched her suck your cum off her fingers.

“Go and get cleaned up. I will see around y/n” she said as she left you to sort yourself out. You couldn’t think straight. She had fucked you dumb. You decided that a cool shower should help your mind sober up from this. You made your way to the showers placing your clothes next to your towel. You turned on the water and immediately stood under the water.

Phasma was about to head back to her quarters but as she passed the shower block she realised you were still here. Maybe she could make you cum just one more time. She snuck into the shower block stripping off her clothes placing them next to yours before walking into your shower cubicle.

You had your back to her which made you jump when you felt a pair of big strong arms wrap their arms around your body. “Daddy is going to make you cum one more time” she moaned into your ear. Phasma rested her back against the wall as she pulled your body so your back was flush against her front.

Her hand travelled down your body and found its way to your sensitive clit once more. There was a little ledge in this shower cubicle so you lifted your leg letting it rest on the ledge which gave Phasma better access to your throbbing cunt. Unlike last time Phasma was much more gentle with her actions. She teased your clit as she rubbed small circles over it.

You were a moaning mess and Phasma loved the fact she could make you weak at the knees for her. Phasma could tell you were getting close once again as she started to feel your body shake slightly from the pleasure. “Cum for me baby girl. Cum for daddy” she moaned in your ear before marking up your neck.

You came instantly and you were weak at the knees. Phasma held you until you had finally gained the strength to stand again. “My quarters tomorrow night at 21:00. Don’t be late because daddy is gonna fuck you with his strap and destroy that pussy of yours” she moaned in your ear before leaving you in the shower, shock clearly plastered on your face.

What the hell happened tonight? You weren’t complaining and you couldn’t wait for Captain to fuck you senselessly again tomorrow night. You tried to walk back to your quarters but Captain Phasma had fucked you so good that you couldn’t walk properly. It looked like you wouldn’t be walking for days because Phasma clearly wasn’t done with you quite yet.

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #fanfics #captain phasma x reader #captain phasma #captain phasma smut #daddy #dominate #dom/sub #training #star wars #stormtrooper #phasma x y/n #phasma x reader #yes captain #yes captain series #brienneoftarth1989

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and-justice-for-zoisite · 11 months

Text

𝒞𝑜𝓈𝓂𝒾𝒸 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 (Fujin x Tsung! Reader)

Official Masterlist - Part 2

Summary: As the daughter of Shang Tsung, you have an expectation which was set to you since birth: to become the next champion in Mortal Kombat. Naturally, you were supposed to represent Outworld, however, when you come into contact with someone who saved you when you were a child, you realise your perception of good or bad is skewed, and he makes you reconsider your position entirely.

Word Count: 8.4k words

This story was written with the song Cosmic Love By Florence and the Machine as the inspiration!

youtube

I hardly remember it happening. I was only but a small belle with a raging fire in her heart. I was so young. Adventurous.

Stupid.

I don't remember much of it. Of the accident.

Father said it looked like I fell in the river by the palace, during the harsh unforgiving winter, and would've surely perished had I not washed upon shore about twenty feet down the river.

But I don't think I could've washed up to the shallow bed of the river on my own. Someone was there. He saved me. He glowed in my blurred vision as I tried to blink the water out of my eyes and cough it out of my lungs. My body was cold, shivering, and my throat felt like it was freezing.

When I thought I was going to die there, father and his servants came to rescue me, one of them having seen me from a window and alerting everyone in close proximity that I had fallen into the river.

Father told me he'd never felt closer to death than that day. Losing me would've been the last of it, not after my mother passed. Ever since then, he's never taken me back to Earthrealm, my birthplace. I've resided in Outworld since age six, and never had any plans to go back.

Not until I met him.

"(Y/n)?"

…

"(Y/n)!"

…

sigh

"Where could that girl be?"

It wasn't unusual that Shang Tsung would find himself searching hopelessly for his dear and only daughter, within the walls off his grand palace that was due to serve as a venue for the upcoming Mortal Kombat he hosted every generation. Outworld had long claimed this right, and he was prepared for another victory. That would be ten consecutive victories, and he would finally be able to invade and claim Earthrealm with no consequences or backlash by the elder gods. He'd been waiting years for the event, and was eager to have his daughter participate as his champion.

Speaking of...

As the man came closer and closer to the east side of the palace, the sound of loud, familiar thumps became more audible as he walked further. He now knew where his daughter was.

With another sigh, he closed his eyes and abruptly teleported himself to his desired location - that was, just outside, by a scrub of trees, one of which his dear daughter was beating the ever living life out of.

"You know, if you keep neglecting to wear protective bandages, you'll damage your hands far beyond repair," Shang lectured her, noting the bloody state of her hands.

She stopped a moment to look at them, huffing and puffing as she pushed her sweat drenched hair out of her face.

"Damage is what makes me stronger, father," she huffed, wiping the blood on her top as she took fighting stance once again, "you want me prepared for kombat, don't you?" "Yes, of course," he smiled, watching as she continued to punch the tree, "but you don't need to focus primarily on your physical strength. You are a sorceress, after all." "But physically hitting something is what gives me satisfaction," she groaned, focused entirely on her training, "it's no fun if I do something as minimalistic as consuming my opponent's soul or setting a fiery serpent upon them." "But it is getting dark, my dear," Shang pointed out, "won't you come inside?" "I'll come inside when I'm done," she huffed between hits, "when it hurts." "Very well," Shang sighed as he turned to go inside, "just be careful."

She didn't say another word to him as he returned to his palace and she continued her make believe battle with this tree as though they'd been enemies for life.

(Y/n) couldn't feel the cold due to how much sweat she had produced from her, even though it was the dead middle of winter in that realm. She would only feel an occasional bite if she stopped momentarily for a breather, but would always continue non stop for longer periods of time.

She was never scared of the dark, not since she was small, nor was she scared of whatever may inhabit it.

But that night truly did make her forever cautious of it from that moment forward.

From behind the tree was a sudden burst of light, one that would've blinded her had the tree been a little more narrow. For the first time in a long time, she felt that pinch of fear in her chest as she stepped back with uncertainty in her eyes. That was when a man appeared from behind it, levitating and glowing. She could feel a cold breeze come off of him, and was at a complete loss of words as she watched him lower himself to the ground.

"Who..." (Y/n) began in a meek voice, mustering up the courage to put more power into it, "...who are you??" "I, (Y/n) Tsung, am Fujin," he introduced himself, "God of wind." "A god?" she asked, sceptically though his appearance did add up.

He nodded, gesturing a hand toward her.

"I have selected you as my champion," he disclosed, "to defend your birthplace of Earthrealm in mortal kombat." "Wait, wait...hold on," she said, flustered as she ran a hand through her hair, "my father has already selected me as his champion. And I may have been born in Earthrealm, but I represent Outworld." "Oh (Y/n)..." Fujin chuckled, approaching her further so he was within touching distance of her, "you've been my desired champion long before your father selected you."

His hands came to cup her face, and before she could protest, she felt his fingers on her temples and a vision suddenly overcame her. She went limp as she watched her memories. It was that day. The day she fell into the river. She could see it all happen from a neutral perspective. Her body sunk to the bottom of the river and she was caught on a log.

Then her perspective changed. She was herself once again, now at the bottom of the river. She felt herself freezing, when a pair of warm arms grabbed her wrists and pulled her out of the river, laying her in the shallows of it. Finally, after all these years, she could make out the face of her saviour. It was him. Fujin. She had been saved by the God of wind.

When she came back to, she gasped as though her lungs were full of water again, her knees buckling as Fujin helped soften her fall.

"I-it..." she looked up at him, "it was you."

He smiled at her and nodded.

"I've watched you grow, from when you were but an infant all the way up until now," he explained, kneeling down in front of her, his hands still grasping hers, "my brother told me you were a lost cause, but I've known since the moment I saved you that you'd become something amazing." "I..." (Y/n) whispered, shaking her head, "...I don't know what to say. I-I mean I'm so very grateful to have been saved by you, but I already have a place in the tournament." "No place is set in stone," Fujin informed her, "you may switch sides at any time you wish."

He let go of her and stood up.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you come and train with me?" he asked, the girl tilting her head slightly, "perhaps you can decide based off of that whether or not you wish to accept my invitation. It can take from a day, to the day before the tournament, and we can train for as long as you'd like each day."

He offered a hand to her.

"What say you, (Y/n) Tsung?"

That was how she ended up face first to the ground, eating dirt after Fujin had deceived her yet again in kombat for the fifth week she had known him.

"You are reckless, (Y/n)," Fujin told her from his place across from her, "you make predictions that you are far too confident of."

With a groan, she pushed herself up off the ground and wiped the dirt off of her face, finding blood in that mix which she then began to taste in her mouth.

"Any advice, oh mighty all-knowing god?" she mocked him, taking fighting stance once again as she prepared herself. "Expect the unexpected, my feather," he instructed, watching as she ran at him with determination in her eyes.

She went to punch him, and as he blocked it, she instead changed the attack while he was vulnerable and swung her leg to swipe him from his feet. While he admitted internally that she was clever for that, he was still able to dodge it with ease, hopping over her leg.

With one swift movement, he brought his firm straight hand down on her back. She cried out and fell once again, coughing violently at the way the attack winded her. Fujin stood patiently, waiting for her to catch her breath again, and once she had, she turned onto her back and breathed the air back into her lungs.

"How...how do you do it, Fujin?" she breathed out her question, the god smiling sweetly as he offered her a hand.

She took it and he helped her up, though placing a hand either side of her waist.

"Have you ever danced the waltz before?" he asked, though a flustered (Y/n) took a moment to answer. "N-no," she answered in a huff, crossing her arms against her chest, "why does that matter?" "I find kombat very alike to dance," he explained, grabbing her arms and gently unfolding them, "it requires much grace and agility to be effective."

He placed one hand on his shoulder, and the other kept in his own, while he let his remaining hand rest on her waist once again.

"Just follow my lead," he instructed, the woman nodding timidly as he only smiled, "to begin, step back on your right foot."

She did as instructed, and as she did, Fujin stepped forward on his left foot.

"Alright, now take a step to the left."

Again, she did as she was asked, and Fujin did the opposite to her.

She could hardly focus with the feeling of his hands on her body and the way his gentle breath would tickle her face. He smelled like a fresh spring morning, like mist and dewdrops and sunlight.

"Very good," he praised her, "now step forward on your left foot."

For all of this dance, she had been staring down at her own feet, shakily ensuring she made every step correctly. As many would know, it is proper etiquette to look your partner in the eyes while dancing with them, and while he understood why she would struggle with this, he'd still encourage it.

"(Y/n)," he began, his hand moving from her waist to pinch her chin as he drew her face upward so he could look into her eyes, "a dancer always looks their partner in the eyes when conducting a dance."

Staring into his glowing orbs like that, her words got caught in her throat, so she only gulped them back down and nodded. His hand fell away from her face and back down to her waist, and they continued with this lesson.

He tried to hide a giggle at how red her face was, not only from the mix of blood and dirt that she had neglected to properly wipe off before, but also from the blood that was in her face that told him she was flustered. He could almost feel the heat radiating off her face, but he started to think that maybe that was the heat from his own face he was feeling. Not nearly as intensely as she would've been feeling it, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe there was more to their relationship than sensei and student. He wouldn't jump to labels though, he'd merely explore this sensation with her, and whether she reciprocated these feelings or not was entirely out of his hands.

Fujin was snapped out of his thoughts when she stepped on his foot, though obviously by accident she was still very apologetic.

"Oh- I'm so sorry," she gasped softly, attempting to move away from him. "No, no, it's alright," he insisted, keeping a tight hold on her so she couldn't escape his grip, "you're doing very well."

It was from that point that (Y/n) actually began to consider switching sides. This bond she shared with Fujin ran deeper than she ever cared to consider, and she was yet to figure out just what she was destined to do.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

(Y/n) hadn't realised that she had been vacantly staring into her plate of food until the moment she heard her father's voice, looking up at the old man with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Huh?" she hummed, obviously having zoned out. "You've hardly touched your food," Shang pointed out, tilting his head ever so slightly, "is there something the matter?" "I-uh," she stuttered, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes, "no, I'm just...tired is all. Been training non stop for weeks and it's starting to catch up to me."

He smiled endearingly at her and pushed her plate of food closer to her.

"A champion needs their meals to produce energy," he encouraged her, "after all, you'll be fighting in the tournament in a few weeks. You will be my champion."

That horrid sensation of guilt filled her stomach once again, ruining her appetite and putting her entirely off of the meal once more. She loved her father, like any paternally nurtured child would, but after the time she had spent training with Fujin, she realised that her concept of what was good and what was bad wasn't taught correctly.

She was heavily conflicted, so much so that she couldn't even think anymore. And because she couldn't think, she could no longer sleep either.

(Y/n) didn't even want to raise her head when she heard the tapping on her window. She had hardly seen a blink of sleep since her conflicting thoughts began, and her face was far too comfortable nuzzled in her red velvet pillow. At first, she tried to convince herself that it was nothing more than a tree branch or an animal. But of course, what animal would tap repetitively like that?

With a huff, she lifted her head, slowly and painfully turning to see who it was that bothered her in this evening. She didn't know why she was even surprised, she always saw Fujin at this time of the afternoon, it was only natural he came looking for her after she remained loyal for every other day.

Deciding it was only right, she got up from her place on her oh so comfortable bed, leaving it's safety to open the window and see her friend.

"I'm sorry Fujin, I forgot," she sighed apologetically, Fujin shaking his head as a worried look carved itself into his features. "Don't apologise," he demurred, "are you alright?" "Y-yeah," she stuttered, rubbing her forehead, "I'm fine."

The man cocked his brow and tilted his head ever so slightly, and that was all she needed to see to know that he wasn't convinced.

“Fujin, I’m...” she began, closing her eyes as an attempt to stop them from tearing up, “...I’m conflicted.” He didn’t say anything, he only looked down briefly, and she could see that he understood what she was saying. When he looked up again, there was no particular emotion on his face, though it was comforting to her as he held his hand out.

“Would you like to come with me, just for a while?”

(Y/n) truly didn’t want to go anywhere right then, she was tired and upset and feeling more emotions than she ever had in her life. But something in her chest told her that she needed this, she needed to get away from her cave and feel something other than upset for a bit.

She didn’t say anything, she only nodded and took his hand and he helped her out of her window and to the ground. Though they had met the ground, he didn’t let go of her hand, he held it the whole time the two of them walked together in the dark, the forest only illuminated by his ethereal, godly glow which provided (Y/n) with a sense of security. He was warm, he always was.

Shortly, the two of them had arrived at a small little lake/rockpool type thing that had the most beautiful little waterfall that fell into it. What set it aside from any regular little lake was it’s iridescent blue glow that emitted from the stones in the water, and the cute little fireflies that also glowed a gorgeous sapphire in colour. (Y/n) had never known such a place could exist in Outworld, she’d only thought it misery and evil. But she supposed that every world had it’s beautiful secrets.

She’d spent so much time simply admiring it that she hadn’t noticed Fujin removing his shirt, and when (Y/n) did finally notice her face blew up in red and heat.

“W-what are you doing??” she asked, flustered though unable to keep her eyes off of his muscular figure. “I’m going for a swim,” he explained nonchalantly, throwing his shirt over to a large stone so it wouldn’t get wet as he stepped into the shallow part of the water, “you should join me.”

She stood there a moment, shy and bashful, not really knowing what she was doing or where this was going. But why on earth would she pass up this opportunity?

With a huff, she began to disrobe yourself, having considered leaving her pants on but figuring that they would become too heavy in the water due to their baggy nature, so she removed them too. (Y/n) was left in her delicate unders - a white tube top and a matching pair of underwear. They were light and thin for a reason, but it turns out they wouldn’t serve her dignity well in water.

Timidly, (Y/n) approached the water, letting it surround her ankles as it was not freezing, but cold enough to be fresh and crisp to her skin.

“Come on, Feather,” Fujin called from further into the pool, “the water’s nice.”

She hesitantly heeded his call, subtly covering her chest out of embarrassment from the exposure, her skin covered in goose bumps as she didn’t dare look Fujin in the eyes.

Since she had been looking down so long, she was startled when she was splashed with water - water which drenched her chest and even got to her face. (Y/n) looked up in annoyance, only to find Fujin floating there in the water with a cheeky smile adorning his lips.

“You were taking too long,” he teased, all annoyance on her side fading away as she matched his mischievous manner with an evil smirk.

From under the water, she brought up a pair of glowing hands. Fujin knew (Y/n) rarely used her powers, so he was aware that she wasn’t just playing around. From behind him, she summoned a decent wave which drenched him completely, ruining his perfectly done up hair which he decided to undo.

She’d never seen him with his hair down, and needless to say she was glad she drenched him like that for the sake of seeing just how long his hair really was. He just ended up rubbing the salt into the wound by flicking it back and forth, and by then she was sure her face was burning bright red.

“Is that what we’re gonna do?” he asked, pushing his wet hair out of his face as you shrugged. “you started it,” (Y/n) said cheekily, slowly letting herself sink a little further into the water. “alright, if that’s how you’d like to play,” he began, drawing water from the lake with his wind abilities, “then we’ll play.”

(Y/n) shrieked as he splashed her with water once again, though that being one of joy as she had a smile on her face so big that it ached. She had completely abandoned the idea of timidity and embarrassment as she drew more water herself and battled with her mentor. Though when water had it’s limits, the two of them engaged in some light-hearted kombat. At first it remained traditional, with ordinary attacks that involved ordinary blocking and countering, though over time it became more of a playful wrestle, the two of them trying to overpower each other with more extended forms of physical contact, like grabbing each other by the arms and trying to push the other over. Laughter echoed in the rockpools, along with the splashing of water and occasional shrieks. Though when (Y/n) was about to overpower Fujin, he disappeared into the water. She knew what was happening, he was trying to sneak up on her. So she waited, listening carefully, feeling any vibration she could as she remained still in the water. her eyes were closed as she knew vision would be of no use to her in this stealth attack, only sound and touch were necessary.

She could feel him, but perhaps a moment too late as he shot up from the water, engulfing her in his arms from behind as she tried to wrestle herself out of his grip in hysterical laughter. Though as she did, the two of them ended up wandering closer to the shore, and in all of their excitement, the two of them tripped on a larger stone and toppled to the ground.

Fujin was careful to not allow all of his weight to crush her, since he ended up being the one cushioned by her falling first onto her back. All went silent as (Y/n) realised Fujin was hovering over her, a knee between her legs and his hands either side her head. Neither of them spoke, they only stared at each other, unmoving. She was absolutely fixated on him, not a single thought it her mind as he was the same.

Though not a moment later did her thoughts sync, and she understood what exactly was happening. (Y/n) didn’t breathe when Fujin leaned down and captured her in a passionate kiss, only letting the air escape her lungs in a dreamy sigh when she returned his gesture in a fit of hunger and infatuation for him and only him. Her finger laced in his wet hair, and she felt a hand of his caress her waist so innocently yet so obviously out of sexual frustration.

And in those waters he took her.

She knew where she wanted to stand now.

On the day of the tournament, (Y/n) woke up with not another emotion other than pure dread. She felt sick to her stomach from anxiety alone, and she had no idea how she was going to pull this manoeuvre off. Though she knew she had to confront her father about it eventually, she wanted to put it off for as long as she could so she could organise her thoughts, be sure that this was the decision she wanted to make before she did something she regretted.

She was already dressed in her lightest yet most extravagant clothing, the clothing she knew would provide her with the most flexibility and agility, that wouldn’t weigh her down or hinder her performance, because tournament wasn’t something to take lightly. And as she stared at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair in a way that would keep it out of her face, a loud knock came to her door.

It was her dad, she knew that because he called her name. (Y/n) had no time to think, so she panicked and escaped through her window, running as fast as she could away from that place.

In all of her anxious exhaustion, she found herself at the waterfall Fujin had taken her to that one evening - it was the only place she could think to go. She sat on the rocks, and it was there she began into uncontrollable sobs involuntarily. (Y/n) didn’t know what else to do, so she just cried and cried and cried.

She were startled when she felt a cold hand come to her back, flinching as she looked back to see who it was. Even in her teary vision she could make out Fujin in all his beauty. At first he didn’t even say anything, he only scooped her up and sat with her in his arms, holding her like a child as he let her cry. He held her close enough so that his shirt could catch her tears, and his smell was of some solace to her, so in time she calmed down to a few stray tears and sniffles.

He adjusted her in his lap in a way that allowed him to see her face and cup it, affectionately wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“You’ll be perfect today, my feather,” he whispered softly, “and no matter what happens, I’ll be here to ensure you have a warm home to fall back onto.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she gripped his hands like they were her lifeline, feeling more tears well up in her eyes as she simply started crying again. Fujin just kissed her face and held her tight, waiting patiently for her to be ready.

Fujin entered the walls of Shang Tsung’s palace, his champion at his side as his allies stared in horror and shock.

“What are you doing with that snakes’ offspring??” his brother, Raiden asked in disgust as his own champions mumbled amongst each other. “(Y/n) Tsung is my champion,” Fujin stated confidently, placing a hand on her shoulder, “she is on our side now.” “Are you crazy Fujin??” Raiden fumed, “you’ve recruited the enemy! You may very well have killed us all at that point!” “You don’t see humans like I do, brother,” Fujin nodded toward the woman, “Unlike her father, she is only young and has had the time and opportunity to see the light,” he looked back toward his brother, “have faith in myself and (Y/n), Raiden. I would never have recruited someone who would jeopardise us in Kombat.”

Raiden stared at (Y/n), analysing her and reading her character, reluctant to believe that she would be of any benefit to Earthrealm and it’s survival. But if he trusted anyone, it was his brother - someone like Fujin couldn’t be bewitched by even Shang Tsung’s own flesh and blood. With a sigh of defeat, he looked down and looked back up at her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t let us down, Tsung sorceress,” he instructed her, the woman nodding confidently as she straightened up. “You have my word, Lord Raiden,” she vowed, a delicate hand over her chest.

Raiden gave her a single nod, and left her side, instructing her as well as his own champions to follow suit.

For the most part, (Y/n) recognised Raiden’s group of champions. Lui Kang, and his good friend Kung Lao, descendant of the great Kung Lao. Edenian allies Princess Kitana and her friend Jade. Though there were some military personnel from Earthrealm who she didn’t recognise. That wasn’t of her biggest concerns, at that moment she was more worried about how she would face her father.

“Lady (Y/n) Tsung!”

Perhaps her father shouldn’t have been her top concern at that time.

(Y/n) was startled when she felt a strong hand grip her wrist and spin her around, finding it was the emperor to this very realm, Shao Kahn, with his Naknadan debt collector goon, Kollector at his side as always. Obviously he hadn’t noticed the group she were with, assuming she had only gotten lost in the crowd as he was good friends of her fathers’ and would never think her to betray the man. The group unknowingly left her behind as she entertained the emperors greeting.

“Shao Kahn, e-excellent to see you as always!” she beamed nervously, trying not to sound too suspicious as the man placed his hands on his hips confidently. “I am keen on seeing you in kombat today,” he declared in his powerful voice, “I’m sure your father will be very proud.” “Uh, speaking of my father,” she began, scratching the back of her neck, “you haven’t seen him around yet, have you?” “I had just spoken with him, he was at the buffet greeting other guests and kombatants,” Shao Kahn answered, the woman nodding. “Okay, great, thank you. Be seeing you, Shao Kahn!” she thanked him briefly, rushing off before he could ask her why she went in the opposite direction to where he had directed her.

(Y/n) wanted to find the group before she found anymore of her father’s friends who would no doubt stop her to talk to her about the tournament. But they, as well as herself, were lost in the crowd of mixed races from across the realms, though predominantly Earthrealmers, Outworlders and Edenians.

Though despite her great efforts to avoid her father, (Y/n) felt his presence behind her and she was all too late to get away.

“(Y/n)!” her father called for her from behind, grabbing her wrist like Shao Kahn did but in a much gentler way, “where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.” “Father...” she tried to speak, though choking on her own guilt, “...I...”

He stared at her intently, waiting patiently for her to speak. But the words never came, and she simply hugged him. She figured that if she was becoming allies with his enemy, this would be the last chance she’d get to hug him again. Momentarily the man was confused, but didn’t make questioning affection a habit as he closed his arms around her and gave her a tender hug within the crowd. (Y/n) felt her eyes tear up, but she didn’t dare cry, she only savoured the moment, before he pulled back and gave her a proud smile that tore her heart in two.

“Now come along, you’re to be presented alongside Emperor Shao Kahn and his daughter,” her father instructed.

Before (Y/n) could protest, he was dragging her along through the crowd, eventually coming to the thrones that centred what would classically be a ballroom, though in this case was a kombat ring. Though she had just interacted with him, Shao Kahn had quickly gone to claim his place on the centred throne, his daughter Mileena - a long time friend of (Y/n)’s - at his side in her own place. Being at the centre stage, she was much too afraid to begin confrontation then and there, so she obeyed her father’s orders of taking her own seat, beside her fathers which was next to Shao Kahn’s throne. Mileena looked across at (Y/n) and chucked her a playful glance, though not reciprocating her mood as she gave her a polite nod before looking back over the crowd.

Shang Tsung captured the attention of eager kombatants as he stood up and clapped once, silencing the crowd.

“In the beginning, were the elder gods. In their wisdom, they created a tournament to safeguard each realm from the threat of invasion,” he began as standard protocol, “once a generation, the finest warriors must battle to decide the fate of their realm. The winner will be granted long life and great power. If one realm wins the tournament ten times consecutively, they will gain the right to merge with the opposing realm, and rule as they see fit.”

His hands came to rest in one another before his chest, as he smiled ever so slightly.

“I, Shang Tsung, emissary of the great Shao Kahn - emperor of Outworld, winner of the last nine tournaments against Earthrealm - welcome you to Mortal Kombat.”

There was a surge of excitement and cheering within the crowd below, those of every race impatient to draw some blood and break some bones not only for the sake of their realm, but the sake of causing pain and suffering to others. Earthrealmers weren’t as keen on the idea of having fun here - only surviving and ensuring that this tournament wasn’t won by Shao Kahn at any cost.

(Y/n) would fight by her father until duty called for her to switch sides - and such an event was inevitable. Her father turned around to look at her, stepping over to her side as he held a hand out for her.

“My champion, and only child, (Y/n) Tsung,” he announced as she took his hand and stood up, hearing the crowd cheer at her name, particularly those of Outworld as they knew her to put up a decent fight, “will be fighting on behalf of the Outworld tonight.”

Guilty, she looked over toward Fujin and his brother Raiden. The thunder god was glaring at her with hatred and a sense of betrayal, however when she cast her sight over to Fujin she felt a sense of relief wash over her, his eyes filled with nothing but love and patience as he knew she would not betray them that night.

(Y/n) was met with her first opponent, an arrogant man who didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidated by her, most likely because she was only a girl to him, and where he came from, most girls didn’t really fight. That was okay, she wasn’t offended, in fact, his underestimation would give her an advantage.

The fight began, and (Y/n) unleashed her agility and skill, surprising her opponent with her speed and precision. She dodged his attacks effortlessly, countering with swift and calculated strikes. Each move she made showcased her mastery of combat techniques inherited from her father, combined with her own unique style. The crowd watched in awe as she gracefully evaded her opponent's every move.

As the battle intensified, (Y/n) could feel the eyes of her father and Fujin on her. When she remembered her father, she felt anxious. But whenever she remembered Fujin’s presence, she felt it working hard to wash away her anxieties, strengthening her resolve and giving her the power to continue. She tapped into her inner strength, focusing her energy and unleashing a powerful combination of strikes that left her opponent staggering.

With a final decisive blow, (Y/n) emerged victorious, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. There, the man lay on the ground, a groaning blood covered mess, and (Y/n) could feel the guilt intensely as she looked across at him, knowing exactly what was to come next.

“Finish him,” Shao Kahn commanded of her.

She glanced at her father, who nodded solemnly, reminding her of the stakes they were playing for. This was it - if she finished this man, there was no way she could represent Earthrealm, like a contract, binding her to this land.

(Y/n) approached him, slowly, as everyone around them watched with anticipation, ready to see her tear him a part. At first, she was thinking of ditching this whole idea of joining the good guys and killing him, to save herself the pain of having to betray her father. But, when he looked up at her, outwardly unafraid though she could see a glint of fear in his eyes, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

“...I...I can’t.”

There was a few gasps followed by a surge of chatter amongst the crowd at the shocking announcement. (Y/n) sighed as she extended a hand for the man. At first, he eyed it suspiciously, afraid that this was some sort of sick joke or set up which would lead to a humiliating death. She understood why he would think such a thing, but remained patient, tilting her head and giving him a sincere smile.

Reluctantly, he reached out and grabbed her hand, surprised when all she did was help pull him onto his feet. She let go of his hand and took a step back, giving him a moment to collect himself. The crowd fell into a stunned silence, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events. (Y/n) could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, but she could no longer hide from what was rightfully her fate.

“Father, I do not represent Outworld in kombat,” she began, turning to face Shang Tsung, “I don’t stand for these cruel things you promote within this land. I have seen the suffering caused by the tournaments - by Outworld, the pain and loss inflicted upon innocent lives. I cannot be a part of it any longer. Now, I fight for Earthrealm."

Shang Tsung's expression turned cold and furious. He couldn't believe what he was hearing from his own daughter.

"You dare defy me, (Y/n)? After all I've done for you? I raised you to be a powerful sorceress, the next champion of Outworld!"

(Y/n) stood tall, her voice unwavering.

"You raised me to be more than just a weapon, Father. I have learned compassion and empathy. I cannot turn a blind eye to the suffering caused by these battles. Earthrealm and its people deserve a chance at peace."

Shang Tsung stared at his daughter in disbelief, as a piercing silence towered over the kombat hall. He was stunned, hurt, heartbroken, this couldn’t be true.

“You are bewitched, daughter!” he accused, pointing a finger at her.

(Y/n) shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No, Father, I am not bewitched. I have made a choice, a choice to stand against the cruelty and violence. I want to fight for a better world, a world where all realms can coexist in peace."

Shang Tsung's anger turned into a mix of disappointment and sadness. He struggled to find the words to respond, his voice barely a whisper.

"I thought I raised you better than this, (Y/n). But it seems I have failed as a father."

(Y/n) stepped closer to him, her voice filled with emotion.

"No, Father, you didn't fail. You gave me the skills and knowledge, but I have chosen a different path. I can no longer follow the path of darkness."

Shang Tsung looked into his daughter's eyes, searching for any trace of doubt or hesitation. But all he found was determination and resolve.

"Very well, (Y/n). If this is the path you have chosen, then I cannot stand in your way. But know this, you are no longer my daughter. From this moment on, you are my enemy - Outworld’s enemy."

Tears streamed down (Y/n)'s face as she nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She didn’t say anything else - she couldn’t. The consequences of her decision had finally come crashing down upon her, but she knew she couldn’t fold to this guilt trip. She had to remain strong, for Earthrealm’s sake.

“Should anything have happened to you, I have prepared a second champion to use at my disposal,” Shang Tsung began, cutting through the silence once again and piquing everyone’s interest, “I suppose he will be of great use at this time.”

Shang Tsung clicked his fingers once, as if he were summoning someone.

“Prince Goro.”

(Y/n) felt her heart sink at the name which her father had called, hearing earth shaking footsteps which echoed within the halls of her former home as the warrior summoned came to the kombat hall.

The shokan prince stood tall and confident at Shang Tsung’s side, towering menacingly over everyone in the room with the staggering height difference and his sheer body mass. His four massive arms were a clear display of his formidable strength. Goro's eyes locked with (Y/n)'s, and there was a mix of curiosity and recognition in his gaze. They had crossed paths before, in training sessions and sparring matches when she was still under her father's tutelage.

But, like most Outworld fighters, he was merciless.

“The tournament shall now continue.”

(Y/n) turned into the crowd, joining them with the man she had just fought following her as the next kombatants were prepared for the next fight. They approached the group which (Y/n) had entered with, and the tension that had been there before regarding her presence had diminished, which she assumed was from her display of loyalty.

Fujin approached her, wiping the residual tears from her face as Raiden stared.

“I am sorry for ever doubting you, (Y/n) Tsung,” he apologised, though his voice was still firm and assertive, “I understand that it must’ve been hard to part with your father in that way.” "It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "But I couldn't continue to stand by and watch the suffering. Earthrealm needs us now more than ever."

Now, most Outworld fighters seemed more arrogant than they were skilled, and now that (Y/n) had switched onto her rightful side, she was able to give her now fellow kombatants tips when fighting various opponents, and most importantly, pinpoint all of their weaknesses for her allies to use at their disposal.

The tournament progressed nicely, and so far, no one who represented Earthrealm had lost a match yet, save for you defeating the man you had come to know as Johnny Cage at the beginning of it all. You guys were almost through with it all, having defeated most of Outworld’s opponents. All who was left now, was Prince Goro.

A member of the special forces, Jax Briggs, had volunteered to take on Goro, considering he was quite large and burly himself. (Y/n) wasn’t entirely confident in his ability to battle the shokan warrior, though she wouldn’t say anything out of fear of being criticised by her peers who were already weary of her.

As Jax stepped into the ring, he prepared himself for the fight, stretching as his face displayed not even a hint of fear. After a moment, they were set to kombat. The battle between Jax and Goro commenced, the two combatants circling each other, measuring their opponent's strength. Jax relied on his immense physical power and combat training, while Goro unleashed his brute force and four deadly arms.

With every strike, Jax's muscles bulged, and he displayed remarkable agility for his size. He aimed powerful punches and bone-crushing kicks at Goro, determined to bring the shokan prince down.

The crowd held their breath, their eyes fixated on the intense fight unfolding before them. (Y/n) watched anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest.

While the man did put up a good fight, it was only inevitable that he would become tired.

Jax seemed to slip up, and Goro seized the opportunity and grabbed onto the smaller man’s arms. You bit your lip as you saw exactly what was to come from this.

Agonisingly, everyone watched as Goro began stretching the man, holding onto his body with his two lower arms while his two upper arms had a tight grasps on Jax’s arms. Jax began screaming as he realised what was happening, and soon enough, both of his arms had been torn clean off.

There was an audible gasp within the audience, and it was clear who the victor was.

Despite all the blood he was losing, Jax seemed to still be alive, as his special forces partner Sonya Blade dragged him out of the ring, allowing Raiden to seal his wounds over with his powers to stop the bleeding.

(Y/n) looked between everyone, guilt pooling in her gut, and she knew in that moment that she could no longer hold her silence.

“I must face him,” she announced, causing the frantic chatter to cease as everyone within her group looked at her, “I’m the only one here who has the knowledge that I do about Prince Goro. And regardless, if anyone should die at his hands, it should be me - not anyone else.”

No one argued with her, they were all simply stunned at the announcement. Fujin approached her, placing a firm yet affectionate hand on her shoulder.

“I believe in you, my feather,” he assured her, his eyes fixated on hers, “you will not fail us today, you have my faith.”

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the imminent battle that awaited her. With her heart heavy and her determination unwavering, she approached the ring where Goro stood, his gaze fixed upon her.

As (Y/n) stepped into the ring, the air was thick with tension. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, their eyes locked on the sorceress about to face the monstrous shokan prince. She could feel the weight of their expectations and the weight of her own conviction.

Goro's four arms flexed, his eyes narrowing with anticipation. He towered over (Y/n), his towering presence seemingly insurmountable. But she refused to let fear consume her.

Their starting cue was called, and the kombat was instant. Compared to Goro, (Y/n) was obviously much more agile, so every reckless punch and kick he threw at her, she was able to dodge with ease, counterattacking swiftly with precise strikes. He was yet to lay a hit on her, and to him that was torture.

(Y/n) had studied Goro's fighting style extensively and knew that his size and brute strength were his greatest assets. She focused on exploiting his vulnerabilities, targeting the joints in his arms and legs, aiming to immobilize him and diminish his advantage.

Though, getting too close was a great risk, and it seems that not even she could evade his close contact attacks.

As she aimed to kick in the back of his leg while she presumed he was not focused, he spun around, his fist connecting with her face as she was sent flying backward, to the edge of the ring.

There was a slight pause as (Y/n) regained her senses. That was the first hit he had made on her, and that may well have been enough to doom her for the rest of the match. She reached up to touch her face, finding that when she pulled her hand away, that there was blood, most likely pouring out of her nose though she couldn’t be sure.

Her eyes drew upward toward her opponent, and suddenly, they began glowing green as she conjured magic in her hands. This was an indicator that, should she win, she would not spare the Prince’s life. It was becoming all too real, and even the crowd was stunned by this revelation.

Their fight continued, considerably more violent than it had been beforehand. The green magic which circled (Y/n)’s fists proved a worthy advantage, as her hits now seemed to pack a little more punch than before and had visible effects on her opponent. Goro could easily match this energy, and naturally his movements became more erratic, each hit he threw with the intention to kill.

(Y/n) threaded in and out of his space, weaving through each hit he threw as she tried to get close enough once again to place a hit that would wind him enough that she could hit him with a final blow. However, in doing this, in her concussed state, she would find herself coat-hangered by the shokan prince, catching her on his elbow as he drew her in and began choking her out.

Clawing at his arms, she spluttered desperately trying to free herself though at this point it was useless. Her face was becoming bright red as she suffocated, searching her mind for any answer at all which could help her out of this situation.

Her Earthrealm allies watched with anxiety, and Fujin’s patience had worn thin as he prayed for her to do something - anything, to defeat this beast and return safely to him.

(Y/n) could slowly feel herself losing consciousness, as old memories played back in her mind. It was true - your life did flash before you when you were about to die.

In her mind, she saw her earliest memories - her mother’s death, her near death experience, being raised by her father.

Then, her most recent memories, and her encounters with her father before this moment.

(Y/n) felt a rush of adrenaline force it’s way through her body, and she felt herself react in a blanked out state of mind. Before she knew it, the Shokan prince was dead.

Everyone observed in quiet shock.

Shoved through Goro’s face was the blade of a glowing green gauntlet which (Y/n) had summoned in her fist. As it retracted, Goro took a few mindless steps back before he fell to the ground.

Goro, the Shokan Prince, was dead.

Her father was right about one thing, she definitely could rely on her sorceress powers more often.

There was an uproar of cheering and celebration, namely amongst her Earthrealm allies.

Exhausted, (Y/n) collapsed, falling onto her back as she breathed heavily. In her blurred and muffled senses, she could still easily make out the face which hung over her - Fujin, of course, who was knelt down beside her.

Fujin's expression was a mixture of relief and concern as he gently cradled (Y/n)'s head in his hands. He could see the exhaustion etched on her face and the toll the battle had taken on her.

"You did it, my feather," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. “You’ve saved Earthrealm for another generation. I’m so very proud of you, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) managed a weak smile as she gazed up at him. Even as she coughed up a little more blood, Fujin still couldn’t help but have an affectionate eye for her.

As the adrenaline began to wear off, the pain from her injuries intensified, and her body protested against the strain it had endured. But she couldn't help feeling a sense of fulfilment and accomplishment.

Earthrealm was safe for another generation, and (Y/n) was safe with her lover in a new home.

Though, these events would weigh on her for the rest of her life, and naturally, the consequences of her betrayal would come back to haunt her.

Part 2 boys??? T-T

#fujin x reader #fujin mortal kombat #fujin #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #angst #Angst with a happy ending

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 1 month

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**Masterlist**

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Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: With the storm well under way, Izzy resigns himself to a tumultuous night of self-loathing. Little does he know that something- or someone- will interrupt his not-so-peaceful evening...

A/N: Ooooooooh, boy! Hello, all! Did you miss me? This chapter. Wahoo! This chapter took a hot minute to write. Fun fact, it has the largest word count to date within this series. Isn't that crazy? Anyhoo, enjoy and I'll see you in chapter 4!

Content Warning: Angst, ANGST, aaaaaaaaangst! Self-deprecating feelings and blood. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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His world was violently swaying or more precisely, the Revenge was being pushed this way and that by the violent waves of the expected storm. But the weather beyond the porthole did not concern the silver-haired pirate. He had lived his life on the seven seas long enough to know when he was in a life or death situation and what lay beyond the glass, was not even worth his concern.

No, no, the only tempest that plagued the great Israel Hands, was the tempest that brewed within his mind. His earlier interaction with you played on repeat, tormenting and mocking him for how incredibly unforgiving he had acted towards you. The only crime you had commited had been caring about his wellbeing and being the bastard he was, Izzy had reacted poorly. Surely making you regret even acknowledging his feelings or perhaps ever acknowledging him. The words, 'I'm sorry' would definitely not suffice in repairing the damage between you he had caused.

In some ways, he wished that Edward had underestimated the severity of the storm. If the Revenge sunk, the First Mate would never have to face the consequences of his actions come daybreak.

A sudden loud clattering sound, followed by a string of muffled curses peeked the pirate's attention. At such an hour, he had assumed everyone, bar those on watch- had retired for the night, planning to try and sleep through the worst of the sea's displeasure. So, who the fuck exactly was roaming the halls?

On unsteady feet- well, foot- it took a major effort on Izzy's part, to make it to the door in one piece. Every extreme rocking of the cabin threatened to trip him up and the last thing he needed was to inelegantly become acquainted with the floor.

Upon opening the door, the sight before his every eyes was one that he did not wholly unwelcome but met with a certain degree of reluctance. He could never be disappointed to see you splendid self. However, after his antics in the morning, Izzy did wish he was not the one to discover your angered self.

Noticing something moge in your periphery, you quickly turned to face whoever had stumbled across your moment of distress but when you took in the unusually dishevelled and sleep deprived appeance of your First Mate, you could not resist the annoyance that bubbled up within your chest. "Oh, good. It's you."

Yeah, he deserved that kind of reaction and more, Izzy mused. "Nice to see you too, (y/n)." but then, as was custom with him, th silver-haired pirate frowned, confused as to why you were not tucked up in bed. "What the fuck are you doing still up? I thought you were playing roomies with your friends?"

"I was but then everyone got seasick." your grumbled, wishing your crewmates possessed a stronger constitution. The smell of vomit was sure to haunt you throughout the entirety of the night.

"Define 'everyone'."

"Be easier to list who isn't throwing up." the fallen cup rolled and tapped against your foot, as the ship violently rocked once more, reminding you of the unattended spillage. "Fuck, there's tea everywhere."

"Careful, you'll slip." Izzy was quick to hold out a stabilising arm for you to hold onto, as you ducked to retrieve the cup. Despite your earlier annoyance, you were grateful for his presence beside you. Taking a hold of the offered arm, you managed to grab the cup before it rolled further away, though there was not much you could do about the tea.

"Thanks."

During the day, it was not often that you strayed into this area of the Revenge. Your dyties generally lay within the confines of the storage hold, kitchen or rec room, should you wander away from the deck. If younwere not sharing a cabin with your friends, nor were you attending to one of your crew mates, that could only have meant... "The rec room is in the opposite direction. Who needs tea in this part of the ship?"

It was wishful thinking on his part, to assume that you had been bringing him tea as a sort of olive branch, after his earlier outburst. Perhaps you had known how horrible he was at making amends unprompted and were taking matters into your own hands. Izzy's misplaced hopes were dashed with your response. "The Captain."

The First Mate should have known better than to be an optimist. Had life not already proven to him time and time again that this was no fairytale, that he did not get a happy ending? Upon hearing that the tea was intended for one of the ship's commander, he could not resist a sneer. "Oh, of course Stede fucking Bonnet can't keep his stomach contents down when there's a storm, that fuc-"

"The tea was for Ed." you interrupted with ease, effectively cutting Izzy's rant short. You were in no mood to listen to his tirade about The Gentleman Pirate.

You could have laughed at Izzy's horrified expression. Stede Bonnet was many things but a terrible leader? You could never share the same sentiment as the First Mate. You liked the co-captain a lot and to see Izzy failing to believe that it was his captain, that had forced you out of bed in the middle of a storm, well, you were going to have to ask Lucius to recapture the moment with charcoal and paper. "What? Edward..."

"Yeah, your beloved Blackbeard is currently vomiting his guts up." you scoffed in a similar Izzy fashion. "I'm supposed to be delivering ginger tea to anyone who's even looking remotely green, while Roach tries to not set the kitchen on fire." as if on cue, you entire world kiltered to the right, slamming you body first into the silver-haired pirate."Fuck!" you cursed loudly.

Thankfully, Izzy was not quite as uncoordinated as you. Years of life at sea had improved his balance greatly. "You're okay. You're alright." he reassured you, as he held onto you tightly, making sure to keep you upright. "I've got you. Just...hold onto me." he did not know whether to thank or curse the God's. Obviously, you were in great distress. However, he could not deny that he was thankful for the excuse to hold you close. Hell, his pining was downright pitiful. Never had he been so grateful for just the opportunity to hold someone. If you could have read his mind, no doubt you would have pushed him away in an instant. Probably called him a fee choice phrases too, as you struck his face with you palm. Now there was a mental image...

Izzy's arms were wrapped around you. Izzy's arms were wrapped around you! Thank the heavens above! You could not help but lean into his hold. If only it were under different conditions, the snide voice in your head reminded you with a cruel laugh. Still, you had to enjoy the rare moments of closeness you both shared. They were so far and few inbetween. Call you pathetic, call you deranged- no, seriously, that was what the First Mate would call you if he knew just how in love you were with him.

Another tilt of the ship sent you both tumbling into the opposite wall. This time, Izzy had you caged between his arms, carefully not to accidentally crush you with his form. In the low light, it was impossible to see the mutual blushes that burned scarlet on your faces. "How the hell am I supposed to move around the ship when it feels like we're about to capsize at any moment?" you fretted, knowing that you Captain was waiting for his tea.

"We're not gonna capsize."

"Tell that to Poseiden when he drowns us."

With an uncharacteristic laugh, Izzy was quick to settle your racing mind. "We're not going to-"

He never had a chance to finish his sentence. A crash of thunder and a particularly vicious wave, had you both on the floor in an instant. The little light that allowed you to see went out in a second, plunging the hallway into complete darkness. In the confusion of the moment, Izzy lost his grip on you.

Which way was up and which way down? He panicked, fumbling around for your form. "(Y/N)? (Y/N)!" he called out to you, listening intently for any sort of a reply over the weathering cacophony.

"Iz?" where was he? you questioned, desperate to be reunited with the First Hand. You could feel a wall behind your back, so at least you were still in the hallway and had not tumbled too far. "Iz, where are you?" you gave an involuntary jolt when you felt a hand grasp onto your shoulder. "Izzy?!"

"It's me, sorry." he apologised, as a wave of relief snuffed out his main concern. He had found you. "Anything broken?" he could feel you trembling against his hand. No doubt if the lights were working, you would look equally as terrified. His heart squeezed at the mere mental image.

"Don't think so." you were running on pure adrenaline, any aches or pains would not fully present themselves until you were out of harms way.

This was ridiculous. You were going to get injured- gravely wounded- if you were forced to continue with your task and Izzy could not stand by and let that happen. You were more important to him than most on that damn ship. No, all the seven seas. "Abandon your post, crewmate and get in the fucking cabin. Right now. Edward is just going to have to fetch his own fucking tea!" Izzy commanded, keeping you cradled against his chest, as he helped you both to stand.

"I heard that!" the echoed voice of the once feared Blackbeard reverberated above the booming thunder.

While the voice sent a shiver of worry through you, there was only one- well, two men- who did not flinch in the presence of the myth, the legend. Luckily, you were clinging to one of those very men. "Good, you selfish bastard!" Izzy called back without hesitation, before he called out once more into the obsidian black, "Roach!"

"Yeah?" the voice of the cook replied, unsure who was summoning him. "God?"

"Fucking give it up man and get back to your bunk. That's an order! Everyone else, stay where you are! Understood?"

He did wait to hear any of the replies, there was only one person on his mind now, you. "Come on, I've had enough of this."

When Izzy had previously fantasised about taking the journey from the hallway to his bed with you in tiw, it had usually been under very, very different circumstances. For starters, you were wearing too many clothes. "Have a seat." he offered before something caught his eye. Before you could question his sudden look of concern, the First Mate was already gripping your chin and tilting your face towards his. "Shit." he gasped, eyes roaming over your face.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, as you did everything in your power to not let your eyelids flutter shut. It felt as if every fibre was screaming, kiss me kiss me kiss me. "W-What?"

"You're bleeding." he stated as a matter of fact, dropping his hand.

Well, that proverbial cold shower of a revelation was enough to cease your desirous thoughts and refocus your mind. "What, I am? Where?"

"Your lip." the First Mate admitted with a strained voice, the thought of kissing you running rampant through his mind. Why did you have to cut your lip of all things, as if you had chosen that area specifically just to torture him.

Your hand instantly rose to feel for the wound. "Oh." despite it's minimal size, your fingers drew away bloodied, as you felt a spike in pain. "Ouch!"

By pirating standards, your cut was nothing more than a scratch and yet, seeing you bleeding rattled Izzy's internal calm more than he was willing to admit. Life at sea was a dangerous one. Whether it was the elements, the blade of another's sword or even the lack of oranges- death was always nipping at your heels. The reality of your fragility was just too much for him to process at that time, Izzy needed to focus and at least prevent the cut from becoming infected. "I haven't got a med kit in here." he murmured, looking around his sparsely furnished room. It had become common place to have Roach patch up all and every injury that, Izzy had become lax with his own medical supplies. He had used the last lot of bandages to tend to his leg.

"It's fine, I'm sure it'll stop bleeding in a moment."

Thinking quickly on his foot, Izzy reached over for leather waistcoat, which he had hung up earlier on a nearby chair, before he had called it a night. Reaching inside on of the pockets, he produced a rectangular piece of brilliant white cloth. "Here, use this. It'll have to do for now."

You tried not to think about how your fingers brushed together, as you took the material from him. If only you had known that Izzy's mind was working double time, focusing on the same preoccupation. Unfolding the square, you noticed something unusual sown into one of the corners. "This is a monogrammed handkerchief." you chuckled.

His cheeks warmed to the sound. He was really in for it now, Izzy thought glumly, as he prepared himself for the onslaught of mocking that would ensue from you and undoubtedly, the crew when you eventually told them. If you told them. Had you ever divulged one of his secrets? Izzy could not recall a time you had indeed betrayed his trust. Perhaps he was overthinking things? "Congratulations, you have functioning eyes." he grumbled.

"Since when does the great Israel Hands own lacey doilies with his name on them?" your tone was interwoven with that familiar playfulness. Devoid of all and any malice. Just a sign that, for the time being, you were going to tease the ever-loving life out of the First Mate.

"Oh, fuck off. I was a gift from that twat we have to call a co-captain." it a moment of boldness, hecdared to gently nudge your side with his elbow. Not enough to jostle your too much, as you regarded the dove white fabric.

It was the finest handkerchief you had ever laid eyes upon. The thin accent of lace around the perimeter edge, screamed of intricate artistry. The fabric alone must have been worth a fair bit. Woukd probably buy a pint or five at Spanish Jackie's tavern. You were surprised that he had kept the pretty item, instead of trading it for an item he would actually prefer.

"You sure you want me to get my blood all over it?"

"I'd rather you just stop yapping and start trying to lessen the amount of blood on your face." there was no anger to be found in Izzy' words. He just wanted to see the wound temporarily treated. Thankfully, you complied with his request and soundlessly applied the handkerchief to your lip, wincing at it made contact with the inflamed area. Out of sight, out of mind, Izzy could relax somewhat and not have his gaze permanently fixated to your lips and his mind constantly begging the question, what would they feel like against his?

The quiet that ensued was comfortable, not awkward. Much like the many times you had spent the night shift together, simply stood side by side on the bow, playing witness to the inky midnight blue wonder, that was the sea and the sky. "Thanks, by the way. Not just for the handkerchief but for letting me stay in here." you eventually murmured, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night.

"Well, it's better you're here." and he meant that wholeheartedly. Things were always better when you were around, but true to his nature, Izzy quickly added, "Can't have you knocking yourself out or some shit. I'll need every competent pirate on deck first thing in the morning. Someone's gotta make sure this boat stays afloat."

"Right, yeah. Of course." did he dare delude himself into thinking he heard a slight inflection of disappointment in your tone? After another pause, you pulled the handkerchief away to examine the amount of blood. Hell, even injured, you looked exquisite. "Do you think it'll scar?"

"No, I think your pretty little face will be just fine." he responded without thought.

As soon as that familiar grin lit up your face, Izzy knew he was in trouble. Why had he used that word to describe you. Colleagues did not call each other pretty. Well, Stede fucking Bonnet's crew did but they were hardly atypical pirates. And you knew Izzy better than most, maybe even better than Ed, you woukd know immediately it was not just a turn of a phrase. You woukd see through any facade he put up to downplay the situation. You would know his little secret and surely be disgusted by him. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I..." his cheeks and neck burned a furious beetroot red. Not like this, he cursed his careless tongue for it's betrayal. Please don't let them find out like this. "I, um..."

Little did the First Mate know that his fumbling response put a kibosh on any hope you had that the silver-haired pirate shared any of your feelings. It had been a fool's dream to believe that the great Israel Hands could ever fall for a mediocre sailor as yourself but still, you had put your faith in a hurtful delusion and you only had yourself to blame for the pain you now felt.

Immediately, Izzy noticed your face drop in disappointment. His stomach twisted and knotted itself with anxiety, as he misconstrued your crestfallen expression to be the result of embarrassment at his accidental admission of admiration of your beauty. "It's fine, Izzy. I was just teasing you. You don't actually need to answer me." you mumbled, half-heartedly trying to reassure the man that you were not dispirited by his lack of interest in you.

"No, I-" he needed to explain himself, needed to make amends but why, oh why, would his brain not engage with his mouth. He was Israel Hands, damn it! Not some bumbling fool, like that moronic so called co-captain and yet, that imbecile had managed to secure himself a somewhat steady- if not, whim-prone- relationship. Why was it so difficult for Izzy to be as equally successful in matters of the heart?!

As the seconds slipped by, he was losing you further and further into your spiral of self-doubt. "It's late. If you've got any spare bedding, I'm happy to take the floor." you conceeded, wanting the night to be over and done with now. The fortuitous opportunity to spend the night in Izzy's cabin had become your very own cursed suit. You should have just told him to 'piss off' and spent the night failing to deliver tea to your fellow crewmates but nooooooo, fate had decided that that was too kind at situation for you. Instead, you had had to play witness to revelation of Izzy's disinterest in you and now, all you wanted to do was pretend to sleep until the storm had passed and then, you would flee to a new ship and change your identity at the earliest opportunity.

"You can have the bed." he offered, knowing it was only fair to offer you tge one comfortable place to sleep, after he had made you feel so uncomfortable, that you were dismissing him completely and wanting to hurry to sleep, so you could leave immediately once the storm had settled.

"No, this is your room, that wouldn't be fair."

It was late and in all honesty, Izzy too just wanted this ordeal to meet it's end. There was only so much discouragement one man could feel before he decided enough was enough. "Just take the bed, (y/n)." he sighed wearily, hoping you would not argue further.

Oh, how wrong he was. "But your leg-"

Just as you had only hours before, you made a comment about his wellbeing and without control over his response, he was quick to snap, "-I'm still capable of lying down on the fucking floor with one leg." Izzy sneered, sick to the back teeth of people assuming that because he was one leg down, that he was now incapable of living the arduous life of a pirate. That his disability had made him soft now.

But you just had about enough of his tumultuous temper. "I know that, Izzy! Fuck, you make me feel like I can't ever say the right thing to you." you spat right back at him, arms folded crossed over your chest as you hugged yourself. You used the gesture as a a form of protection from whatever vile response he would say in rebuke to your confession. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable., that's all. I know your leg still hurts sometimes." the final part of your defense was mumbled, as you will to fight died on arrival.

You were tired. Not just physically but mentally too. He exhausted you to no end. All you wished was to one day have a civilised conversation with this man, without fear that he would suddenly snarl at you in anger at the drop of a dime.

Despite your preparation of the onslaught of curses and vulgar language you had come to expect from talking back at the fearsome pirate, all you were met with was contemplative silence, as Izzy mulled over your words.

He had always known his short fuse would push you away one day. In fact, he was certain of it. If he were a better men, he would risk his entire savings on those odds. He would be a winning man while losing you forever. "Do you mean that?"

"What?"

Hearing you admit your frustrations, made the silver-haired pirate's heart sink into the pit of his stomach. Looking at you now, as you refused to return his gaze, made Izzy wish he could get on his knees before you and beg for forgiveness. "About me making you feel like you never say the right thing?"

"Well, yeah." you shrugged. Stede always preached that honesty was the best policy and as much as Izzy might have wanted to run thr man through with his blade, you had to admit, the co-captain made some good points. "I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells around you. One minute we'll be having a normal enough conversation and then the next, you're telling me to 'fuck off'. And I get that's just how you are and that's fine, I guess but it makes me really anxious. Like I'm just waiting to say something that'll accidentally make you angry."

You thought back to your time on deck that morning. How a perfectly fine conversation had ended with you humiliated and fighting back tears, as you had finished the dregs of your one hot tea. Knowing the crew had played witness to your talking down, had planted the seed of an unshakeable sense of shame within your very core. You had felt Lucius's eyes boring a hole into the back of your skull, as you had fled the scene. You thanked your fair weather stars that something had compelled him not to follow you. The last thing you had needed was pity. "You know what, this was a mistake. I'm sorry, forget I said anything. I'm gonna go."

You had planned in that moment to make a quick exit. Well, as quick as the violent swaying of the ship would permit you. As you stood on unsteady legs to leave, you felt something catch your wrist and prevent you from fleeing into the night.

Izzy's grip was not tight enough to hurt you. As a matter of fact, in all your time in knowing him, the word gentle was not a word you would have ever associated with the First Mate. Yet, the hand that encircled your arm was not only warm to the touch but could even be considered as tender in it's gesture. "Sit down." he softly commanded.

You hated how the tonal change made you feel weak at the knee. For goodness sake, the man did not even think you pretty! You should most definitely have not been feeling flushed at him calmly ordering you around. "I'd rather not." you said, voice strained, as you prayed he would not notice how fucking whipped you were for him.

"Just...sit down, (y/n)." he implored, regarding you with an expression that crumbled your resolve to runaway. So, instead, you sank back onto the bed, trying not to get distracted by the feeling of his hand still touching your flushed skin. The sensation threatened to send a shiver down your spine. This, this was what the man was capable of doing to you. If only he knew the power he had over you. You were melting with only a gentle hold.

He should have let go. Izzy was fully aware he was pushing his luck. Letting his fingers linger around your wrist, even though you were no longer a flight risk but he could not help himself. He was not an indulgent man. In reality, he was deprived, hollowed out and starving for all and any scraps of closeness that came his way. So, he held on...just for a moment longer. Relishing in the feeling of having you beneath his fingertips. In another life, he may have even been permitted to hold your hand. What a privilege it would be, to lace your fingers with his. Oh, how he yearned for such a simple touch. "I know that I'm a fucking nightmare to be around-"

And right on cue, you jumped to your defense. "-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Will you just shut the fuck up for a moment?" he started, quickly stopping himself once more. Was that type of talk not the exact reason he was trying to make amends? With a weary sigh, Izzy wiped a hand over his face, finally freeing your wrist. Much to your mutual disappointment. "Please?" he all but begged, causing your heart to skip a beat. "I never meant to make you feel that way. Out of all the morons on this ship, you...well, you actually make my life a little less shit. I can't promise I'll totally change but," this was a completely new side to the pirate you had hoped but could not ever confirm actually existed. "I'll try to make it feel less like eggshells around here." "That good enough for now?

After years of fighting tooth and nail for survival on ship after ship, any shred of vulnerability had been locked away, out harms away. With a heart turned to stone, harmful habits had been acquired and for a long time, that had been fine. Acceptable, even. Then Stede fucking Bonnet with his 'talk it through as a crew' had come along and turned Izzy's life of piracy upside down. Threats, fights and all sorts of vulgarity were no longer the standard upon the vessel and truth be told, Izzy was struggling with the adjustment. He knew he needed to change for the better but he had never had to motivation to do so. Not until you.

Then the silver-haired pirate waited with bated breath for your reply. Half-expecting, half-wanting you to completely reject his offer. It would be easier for him to remain set in his ways, to not put in the work. Your refusal would only fuel his terrible mood. It would be easier for Izzy to accept your hatred, than your kindness. Such tenderness woukd only ever leave him question, why? A wretched dog as he deserved only to be put down, not cared for by someone so conscientious and hard-working as yourself. You were the best of all of them.

So, when your tearful, "Thank you", left your lips, Izzy knew he was a goner. From the moment on, he would put in the work and strive to be worthy of your friendship. He had a long, arduous road ahead of him.

Maybe he could wait to start his self-improvement in the morning, he thought, as a yawn threatened yo spill from his lips. "That being said," he added, noting the way your glassy expression hardened, as you looked at him warily. "You're still taking the bed." he smirked, as unsurity morphed into incredulousness in an instant.

"Izzy!" your yell of exasperation only made his smile widen.

"That's an order, (y/n)."

Gently shoving his arm, you pouted. Glad the tense moment between you had passed. "You're not sleeping on the floor, you twat!"

Rolling his eyes but daring to lean into your side playfully, he scoffed. "Oh yeah and what's your bright idea then, that we both share the bed or something?!"

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A/N: Guess what happens in the next chapter...

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