#but I am too tired I guess and also burned out too I guess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floralcyanide · 3 months ago

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― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?”

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies.

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter.

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other.

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive.

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that!

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially.

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add.

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed.

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words.

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly.

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is.

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith.

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement.

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas.

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow.

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive.

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine.

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person.

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you.

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger.

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain.

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness.

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night.

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you.

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins.

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner.

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

#javier rivera #javier rivera x reader #javir ivera #javi rivera x reader #javi x reader #javier “javi” rivera #javier “javi” rivera x reader #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters fic #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader #anthony ramos #anthony ramos x reader #floralcyanide writes

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bedsyandco · 5 months ago

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୨୧ ⋅ 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒﹙⠀JH86⠀﹚

⠀⠀╰ ꒰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ◞ fem!wife!reader x jack hughes

⠀⠀╰ ꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ◞ in which Jack's wife is pregnant and a little emotional.

⠀⠀╰ ꒰ 𝐜𝐰 ◞ just fluff!

⠀⠀╰ ꒰ 𝐰𝐜 ◞ 1.5K

⠀⠀╰ ꒰ 𝐚/𝐧 ◞ husband!jack has become a favourite of mine. . .

"Babe” Jack whispers.

“Hm?”

“Can you scoot over a bit?” he asks

“I’m on the edge”

He looks over his shoulder, right at the face of his beautiful wife.

“Babe, I find that hard to believe,”

“What?” you ask, a little disoriented.

“There’s no way you’re on the edge when your face is pressed into my back, your legs are tangled with mine and our child is kicking me in the back.”

“But I am,”

“You’re not,” Jack argues.

“You scoot over,”

“I can’t. I’m on the edge of our California King bed that you insisted we get because you didn’t want to touch during the night because you always get too hot. Yet, you’re laying on top of me,”

“I am not,” you complain, nuzzling closer, if that were possible. “Shh go to sleep.”

Jack sighs loudly and says, “I can’t. You’re too hot and our child is kicking me in the back.”

“Yeah well, welcome to my world buddy. Can you stop talking? I'm tired.” you say.

Usually Jack wouldn’t care. He’d deal with it because he loved you and he wanted you to be comfortable, but he needed to get up early tomorrow morning and he really needed a good night’s sleep. Jack was beyond stressed. It felt like he was always 2 seconds away from having a panic attack.

His constant worry about you was driving him insane, but then he also had hockey to think about. The Devils had just lost in the third round of the playoffs. They were so close. Jack wanted nothing more than to win and hold that cup up. But then he realised he was about to hold his baby, and that was an even greater prize.

That was if he didn’t kill you first.

Turning over, you glared at him as he popped his head on one arm, looking over her to the amount of space behind you. “Baby, we could literally fit all my teammates beside you,”

“What does that mean?” you ask frowning

“I’m saying scoot the hell over!” he says, his voice rising. “You’re burning me up!”

“I want to sleep with you,”

“You are, but just give me some space so I don’t die of heatstroke!”

“Ugh, fine.” you say annoyed and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

Jack sighs, shaking his head and lays back down. He could finally breathe, but just as he’s about to fall asleep you say, “I just think it’s messed up that you won’t cuddle with me and I’m carrying your child, which is the reason I’m burning up!”

Jack opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. Here they go again.

“Sweetheart, I love cuddling with you. But I have to be up early to do press and clean out my locker. I can’t sleep through that and I definitely can’t sleep with you burning me up and our child kicking me the whole night. I love you though, you know that right?” Jack asks, looking over at you with a soft smile.

But you were glaring, lips pursed as you glared at him. “Oh yeah, I forgot it’s so hard being Jack Hughes and you need all the sleep you can get. While I can’t sleep a certain way due to the fact that it hurts because I’m the thing your child is sucking the life out of.”

“I thought you loved being pregnant.”

“I do!” you yell and his brows go up. “That’s not the point. I’m just reminding you that I don’t get to sleep or do any of the things that I wanna do anymore, but it’s fine. I’ll sleep all the way over here without the love and support from my husband because he needs to get some sleep. God forbid you don’t get any sleep.” you mumble and Jack wants to laugh. You were being ridiculous. But before he could tell you that, you look over to him and say, “And just a friendly reminder Jack Hughes, when this baby comes, say fucking good-bye to sleep.”

“I guess I should say good-bye to sleep now, because I’m sure as hell not getting any more tonight,” Jack says, holding your gaze.

Your eyes darken a little and Jack swears he’s never seen anyone as beautiful as his wife. Even when you’re a little crazy, hostile, and 7 months pregnant, you were still hot as fuck.

“You got that right, I just wanted to cuddle,” you say rolling away from him again.

When Jack hears you sniff he can’t help but smile. The emotional rollercoaster of a pregnant wife was no joke. Reaching out, he went to cuddle with you, but you smack his hand away.

“I don’t wanna cuddle now,” you mutter

“Fine,” Jack sighs, falling back onto his own pillow. Sometimes he just really couldn't win with you.

“I just want you to know, I did want to cuddle. But that’s gone now.”

“I hear you.” Jack replies.

“And I’m very upset.”

“I got that.” he says with a sigh, rolling on his side to look at you.

“I just don’t think it’s fair. I cook, I clean, I work. And I’m carrying your child.”

“And I appreciate you more than words can ever say.” Jack says sincerely.

“Then you'd cuddle with me!” you say exasperated.

“But baby, I need sleep too. And you’re literally a furnace.”

“Well if you need sleep so badly and I’m too hot and our baby won’t stop kicking you then go sleep somewhere else!” you yell

“Seriously?”

“Yes! Go to the couch”

Surely you were joking. But then you yank the covers off him and pull his pillow from under him, throwing both on the floor. He stands up and goes to pick up his pillow.

“I need sleep and I’m too mad to sleep with you here.” you mutter

“Because I won’t cuddle with you?”

“Yes!” you yell tears streaming down your face.

“Then come here, I’ll cuddle.” he says and ducks when you throw another pillow at his head.

“No! I don’t want to cuddle anymore!” you yell

“Then let’s just go to bed.” Jack mumbles

‘No! I’m mad!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Jack says with a laugh, and why he would do that would be his last thought.

“Go!” you yell.

“If I go, I’m not coming back tonight.” Jack says

“That’s fine. Maybe tomorrow you won’t mind cuddling your wife and child.”

“Sweetheart, I said let’s cu-”

“I don’t wanna cuddle!” you yell laying your head on the pillow with a sob. “I just wanted you to want to cuddle with me!”

Watching as you cried, Jack sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He picked up his pillow and looked at you one more time. “You sure?”

“Yes. You broke my heart Jack.” you say.

He went to say something sassy back but he knew it wouldn't get him anywhere so instead he said, “I’m sorry that I didn’t wanna cuddle because of the blazing heat you were putting off. I love you. Good night.”

When you don't answer, Jack chuckles as he walks out of the room. His girl was so stubborn. Heading to the couch he lays down and stares at the ceiling. Only two more months and maybe he would get his normal wife back. He was lucky that some of the guys on the team had kids and also went through this process. If not he wouldn’t know it was normal for his wife to be completely and utterly irrational about the dumbest things.

Tonight it was cuddling.

Last week, it was because he ate the last oreo.

Next week, it might be because he breathed a little too hard.

Jesus. Two more months. He could do it.

Leaning back on his pillow he closed his eyes, thankful that he chose to spend so much money to get a comfortable couch. He hopes you stopped crying. He hates when you cry. He was tempted to check but he really didn’t want you to bite his head off. Just as he was about to drift off he felt someone beside him.

Opening his eyes, he saw you standing there.

You looked adorable, hair a mess, cute pyjama shorts, cheeks flushed. Wearing one of Jack’s T-shirts that you cropped. It kinda made you look like Winnie the Pooh. Jack still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jack?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Can I lie with you?”

Chuckling to himself he scooted over as far as he could to make space for you. As you lay down your stomach presses into his and Jack wraps his arms around you, kissing you cheek.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper.

“It’s okay baby. I’m sorry too.” Jack whispers.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” Jack says kissing you again.

The next morning, when he woke up with a sore back, all he could do was repeat three words over and over.

Two more months. Two more months. Two more months.

#୭ 🗄️ ₊ ⌇ hhughes #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff

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mistakenot4892 · 7 days ago

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Disclaimer that this is a post mostly motivated by frustration at a cultural trend, not at any individual people/posters. Vagueing to avoid it seeming like a callout but I know how Tumblr is so we'll see I guess. Putting it after a read-more because I think it's going to spiral out of control.

Recent discourse around obnoxious Linux shills chiming in on posts about how difficult it can be to pick up computer literacy these days has made me feel old and tired. I get that people just want computers to Work and they don't want to have to put any extra effort into getting it to Do The Thing, that's not unreasonable, I want the same!

(I also want obnoxious Linux shills to not chip in on my posts (unless I am posting because my Linux has exploded and I need help) so I sympathise with that angle too, 'just use Linux' is not the catch-all solution you think it is my friend.)

But I keep seeing this broad sense of learned helplessness around having to learn about what the computer is actually doing without having your hand held by a massive faceless corporation, and I just feel like it isn't a healthy relationship to have with your tech.

The industry is getting worse and worse in their lack of respect to the consumer every quarter. Microsoft is comfortable pivoting their entire business to push AI on every part of their infrastructure and in every service, in part because their customers aren't going anywhere and won't push back in the numbers that might make a difference. Windows 11 has hidden even more functionality behind layers of streamlining and obfuscation and integrated even more spyware and telemetry that won't tell you shit about what it's doing and that you can't turn off without violating the EULA. They're going to keep pursuing this kind of shit in more and more obvious ways because that's all they can do in the quest for endless year on year growth.

Unfortunately, switching to Linux will force you to learn how to use it. That sucks when it's being pushed as an immediate solution to a specific problem you're having! Not going to deny that. FOSS folks need to realise that 'just pivot your entire day to day workflow to a new suite of tools designed by hobby engineers with really specific chips on their shoulders' does not work as a method of evangelism. But if you approach it more like learning to understand and control your tech, I think maybe it could be a bit more palatable? It's more like a set of techniques and strategies than learning a specific workflow. Once you pick up the basic patterns, you can apply them to the novel problems that inevitably crop up. It's still painful, particularly if you're messing around with audio or graphics drivers, but importantly, you are always the one in control. You might not know how to drive, and the engine might be on fire, but you're not locked in a burning Tesla.

Now that I write this it sounds more like a set of coping mechanisms, but to be honest I do not have a healthy relationship with xorg.conf and probably should seek therapy.

It's a bit of a stretch but I almost feel like a bit of friction with tech is necessary to develop a good relationship with it? Growing up on MS-DOS and earlier versions of Windows has given me a healthy suspicion of any time my computer does something without me telling it to, and if I can't then see what it did, something's very off. If I can't get at the setting and properties panel for something, my immediate inclination is to uninstall it and do without.

And like yeah as a final note, I too find it frustrating when Linux decides to shit itself and the latest relevant thread I can find on the matter is from 2006 and every participant has been Raptured since, but at least threads exist. At least they're not Microsoft Community hellscapes where every second response is a sales rep telling them to open a support ticket. At least there's some transparency and openness around how the operating system is made and how it works. At least you have alternatives if one doesn't do the job for you.

This is long and meandering and probably misses the point of the discourse I'm dragging but I felt obligated to make it. Ubuntu Noble Numbat is pretty good and I haven't had any issues with it out of the box (compared to EndeavourOS becoming a hellscape whenever I wanted my computer to make a sound or render a graphic) so I recommend it. Yay FOSS.

#linux #annoying linux shill discourse #i like the noble numbat he's a fine fellow

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froggibus · 1 year ago

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The Second Choice - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x gn! reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

Summary: after losing Ada, Leon can’t get her off of his mind—and can’t stop comparing you to her

CW: angst, feelings of inadequacy, second guessing, unhealthy relationship, feelings of loss, allusion to death/loss, Leon comparing you to Ada, alcohol abuse, hurt comfort, groveling (but pretty weak cause I can never stay mad at this man), arguing, insecurities, allusion to panic attacks

honestly have been feeling super angsty the past few days and needed to write a lil angst as a treat to myself lol. definitely not my best work but whatever

————

It’s no secret that after he lost Ada, your boyfriend was never quite the same. Aside from having nightmares for months, he also never quite got over her.

You’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn’t relieved the day he told you the news. She was always a point of contention in your relationship and you felt as though Leon would never be able to fully give himself to you as long as she was in the picture. You thought this would be a new leaf for you guys, a step in the right direction to further progress your relationship.

You’ve never been more wrong.

The first few months of the aftermath were rough. Leon drank more and came home less, and the times he came home made you wish he never did. You tried to take a deep breath and turn the other cheek to his drinking. He’s in pain, you’d remind yourself. He needs time.

It all came to a head one night after he hadn’t been home in almost a week—too busy out on a binge. You had been texting and calling him the whole week, desperately clinging onto him when you knew he didn’t belong to you. He never did.

Leon got home with the worst hangover of his life, hoping to just crash in bed and forget for a while. It had been so long since he slept—the nightmares that plagued him chasing away any hope of rest. But today he felt tired enough and the comfort of having you at home was more than enough to have the man dreaming of sleeping the whole way home.

The last thing he wanted to see was his bed covered in your clothes, a suitcase thrown open on your side of the bed and you desperately rummaging through the closet. “Honey?” He spoke softly, voice raspy from the constant burn of alcohol.

Your head snapped up, red rimmed eyes meeting his. “You’re back.”

“What’s going on? What’s—what’s all this?”

You almost felt bad for him. “I need some time away, Leon. I-I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” He wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“This. The long nights and the drinking and you never coming home anymore. It’s killing me, Leon. And I,” your voice broke and you took a deep breath, “I deserve better.”

Leon felt his heart drop into his stomach, a weight forcing him onto his knees, He looked up at you with glistening eyes, “y/n, please don’t do this. Please. I-I love you, I don’t know who I am without you.”

You sighed, trying to swallow back the lump in your throat. It’s not fair, it’s never been fair. But it’s Leon, and you’ve always loved him, and no matter how angry you were in the moment, you knew he needed you.

“Alright,” you said quietly, placing the suitcase back in the closet.

Hope filled Leon’s eyes once more, like azure sparkling in sunlight. He wasted no time in striding over to you and wrapping his arms around you. He held you so tightly it hurt.

He whispered, “I promise things will get better from here. I promise, y/n.”

—

Leon doesn’t drink as much after that. He comes home at a normal time but even then it feels like your boyfriend is vacant. Gone. The closer he is to you, the further away he seems.

She’s always on his mind—and he makes that obvious to you.

Leon’s eyes practically glaze over the day he sees you wearing red. The garment clings to your body in such a perfect way, the scarlet complimenting all of your features perfectly.

You almost smile at the way his jaw drops. He’s never been a very reactive person so seeing him like this is enough to make you giggle. Of course, that’s before he speaks.

“Ada had a dress that was almost the exact same colour.”

Your heart sinks at the mention of her name. He’s grieving, you try to remind yourself. It's only natural she’s on his mind.

“Red was her favourite colour, she wore it all the time.”

You sigh, trying not to let your tensed muscles show. He misses her. It’s okay. But it’s not okay, and your stomach hurts and now you don’t want to go out at all.

“It’s kinda itchy,” you say quietly. “I’m gonna change.”

And you find yourself tossing the cloth into the bottom of your hamper, never to be worn again. In fact, you don’t feel like wearing red ever again.

The comparisons don’t stop after that day. Ada never seems to leave his mind, and any time he looks at you, there’s a look in his eyes that says he’s not really seeing you.

It feels like anything you do, anything you wear, any interest you have—she had it too.

You’re watching a movie on the couch, cuddled into his side. You have your arms wrapped around one of his, feeling the muscle beneath his skin.

You giggle and point at the tv, “I love him. He was my favorite character as a kid.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth and Leon turns to look at you. His blue eyes are clouded over with nostalgia.

“Ada always loved him, too. Only guy that ever made her flustered,” he shakes his head, smiling at the thought of her.

You can’t help but pull away from him and withdraw to your side of the couch. Leon looks at you in concern, head tilted to the side.

“Can—can you stop comparing me? I hate that,” your voice comes out exasperated and desperate.

Leon doesn’t say anything but a confused look takes over his face. His silence is almost worse than his comparisons—almost.

He’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what to say. That’s just how his mind works; he makes connections between things like that. A force of habit he gained from his strenuous line of work. He thought you understood that.

“Just,” you sigh, pushing yourself off of the couch, “nevermind.”

You trudge your way to the bedroom and throw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes and forcing the tears away. He promised things would get better. He promised.

—

Leon notices you withdrawing from him after that. Never in his life had he heard you sound so defeated and so angry. You’ve never been good at voicing your feelings, especially not to him, so he knew something was wrong the minute you spoke up.

“Honey?” He shuffles over to his side of the bed, the mattress dipping down under his weight.

You don’t answer, drawing your arms and knees closer to your chest. Leon sighs—he’s really messed up.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize I was making you so upset.” He takes a deep breath, “I just miss her so much, and you know how my brain works and—”

You whimper, “it’s not fair, Leon. You’re not being fair to me here.”

“I-I know! But you knew how things were getting into this so maybe you shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what, Leon?” You snap.

The blond stays awfully silent, staring at his clenched fists in his lap. He doesn’t know how to talk his way out of this—he doesn’t know how to keep you with him.

“I think I need some time away.”

Leon stares at you slack jawed. As soon as you stand up, he’s jumping to his feet too. He practically dives into your way, blocking your path.

You stare at him expectantly and try to avoid the burning in your eyes.

He looks at you dead seriously. “For every thing you have in common with her, there’s another thing that you don’t.”

His words are enough to get you to sit back down on the bed. The beating in his chest settles down as you do. You’re not leaving.

“She was really athletic for one thing, and a serial flirt. I mean, she was just so beautiful she could have any man wrapped around her finger. And she loved to fight and she loved gory movies and—why are you standing up?”

Leon stares at you in confusion. Did he say something wrong? He doesn’t understand.

Your mind races a million miles a second. It’s clear from the way he talks about her that he loved her in a way he could never love you. Even from the way he talked about her compared to you. Beautiful, athletic, charismatic. Everything you wished you were, everything he wishes you are.

“I need to get out of here, I-I feel like I can’t breathe.” You clutch your chest, shoving past him and grabbing your keys and your coat.

Leon watches you walk out the door, hopeless to do anything to stop you.

—

Leon waits for you to come home, sitting in a chair by the door for hours. The more time that passes, the more worried he gets that you’ll never come home. He taps his foot in anticipation—a habit he’d never had until now.

He can’t believe how caught up he got. He was so focused on the ghosts of his past that he forgot about his future. And sitting in this old chair, his ass hurting from sitting so long, he wishes he could go back in time and shut his own stupid mouth.

It’s nearly 1am when he hears your key in the door. Leon shoots to his feet, standing only a foot away from the opening door.

The minute you see him, you feel like crying again. You were hoping he would be asleep and you wouldn’t have to have this conversation now.

You close the door behind you and lock it, not even sparing a look at Leon as you make your way down the hall and to the bathroom. You only get halfway before Leon grabs your wrist and tugs you to face him.

He drops to both knees in front of you, looking up at you with desperate eyes. “Y/n.”

You shake your head and try to tug your hand away but Leon keeps a firm grip.

“I am so fucking sorry, y/n. I-I got so caught up in things that I didn’t even realize how I was treating you. I want to make it up to you.”

“You promised things would get better, Leon.” Your voice is shaking dangerously, “but all you’ve done is make me feel like her replacement. Like I’m the next best thing. And it has me second guessing everything. How do I know you even love me for me? How do I know you love me at all?”

Leon’s heart aches at your words. He knew he messed up but he didn’t realize the extent to how unloved he was making you feel.

“No, no, no. Y/n, no. Look at me.” His eyes are wet, and he looks so vulnerable sitting in front of you on his knees. “I love you. I love you. You and only you. You’re not her, and I know that. I never loved her in the same way I love you.”

Tears fall down your cheeks, splashing on the floor in front of you and Leon.

He keeps going. “You’re not a replacement. You’ve never been a replacement. You’re the best thing I could have asked for, and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”

Leon slowly rises to his feet, slipping his hands into yours. “Let me make it up to you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

You sigh, biting your lip and trying to force the tears away. “Leon…”

“Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you, y/n. I will do anything to make you feel happy and safe again.”

And looking into his eyes, you know he means that.

“Alright, alright, just—” you wipe your eyes and offer a weak smile, “let’s sleep on it, okay?”

Leon nods and lets you tug him to the bedroom. He still has a lot of work to do, but that can wait until the morning. For now, he’s just glad he has you back.

#resident evil 2 #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 #leon resident evil #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #hurt/comfort #Leon kennedy hurt/comfort #Leon s kennedy hurt/comfort

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thelargefrye · 1 year ago

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GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one

pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader

genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut

word count : 3.5k

warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)

special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell

note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts

after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.

the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.

it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.

you saw the look of pity in their eyes.

you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.

you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.

a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.

you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.

especially not these gossiping maids.

"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."

"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"

"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."

"i am too."

you try your best to ignore them.

when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.

you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.

"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.

when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.

still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.

however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.

"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.

you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.

"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.

"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.

"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.

"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?

"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.

"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.

"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"

"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.

"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.

you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.

then something else hits you.

"where's mingi?"

"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."

you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.

you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.

yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.

"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"

yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.

"where's the princess, yeosang?"

"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–

yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.

"where is she?"

"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.

the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.

"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."

mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.

"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.

yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.

when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.

"what's wrong with you two?"

"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.

"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"

"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."

the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.

san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.

"oh well."

you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.

you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.

"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.

it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.

"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."

"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.

when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.

you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.

but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–

"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.

"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.

you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.

you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.

you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.

"here, princess, let me finish–

"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."

"but princes–

"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.

you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.

you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.

you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.

maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.

you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.

the water had grown cold.

"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.

"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.

"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.

"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.

"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."

"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."

trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?

the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.

"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.

"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"

"what... what month is it?"

"august, your highness."

"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?

"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.

you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.

you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.

after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.

the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.

"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.

"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.

"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.

"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.

when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.

"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.

"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.

however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.

"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.

"yes, princess."

what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.

but how were you going to do this?

and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.

san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.

if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.

you were going to win over your ruthless husband.

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 11 months ago

Text

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is.

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back. He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #netflix daredevil #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock hurt/comfort #matt murdock my beloved #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

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plasticfangtastic · 4 months ago

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Dairy Girl-- Part 2

A Homelander x F! Reader fanfic

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this and hope the lenght is enough of an apology, yeah this is gonna be liek 4 parts i got too engrossed btw. hope yall like it here's the previous chapter:

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

word count: 3.4K

Part 2– Calf

As he’d mentioned before the house was an escape proof cage– every window had its hinges super glued or welded shut, glass panels thick enough to prevent shattering but thin enough to allow sound in. That night as he’d left you for the first time you kept your composure, perturbed more by the earlier events that nothing had time to sink in, you venture across the 3 bedroom home, each room old taken straight out from a vintage furniture catalog, the master bedroom smelled just like your grandmother’s, the bathroom walls covered in tacky pink tiles that you told yourself will never get used to.

By the time you explored the whole building you understood the following: The size felt deceiving, without a way to see the outside this building could’ve been 35 floors high and you wouldn’t know, the east-wing of the building at the opposite direction where you’d emerged was cut off from you by a thick metal door, an eye-scan request made its unpickable lock, looking at how it cut on the hardwood floors you’d guess this is where in the kitchen and perhaps the garage and entry hall could be found, this overall felt like an architectural nightmare, the only other oddity of this was the piles and piles of bottled water– Vought branded water… you much rather drink Dasani than this crap… It was by far the worst one in the supermarket.

There were indeed no phones or even ethernet ports on the wall, the TV was bolted in its place and so was the VHS player (and all the furniture too), there were at least 350 titles on the walls (something you bothered to count on day 5), an extremely old vinyl player your only other company... whoever had supposedly lived here was a big fan of Cab Calloway, ABBA and Bruce Springsteen, here you and Bruce could become intimate friends it seems after all you had all his vinyls, alongside an expansive jazz assortment, nothing in this selection went past 1989.

You also learned a very useful fact on day 3 you stared at one of the 18 cameras that you’d found.

“I really want some Mcnuggets! Like just a 12-pack and a large Sprite! Maybe an Oreo Mcflurry too!” You yelled into the camera waving your arms as if the circular lense would reply somehow.

Barely few minutes later the air was filled with the roaring sounds of a bike burning tires seemed the forbidden end faced some road which made you giddy, about 50 minutes later a small door at the door itself opened smoothly where the first strange hand you’ve seen in the last 3 days popped-out leaving a bag with a familiar logo… it wasn’t maccas tho, it was Vought-a-burger which was okay but that wasn’t the point, you picked your meal and your oversize ice-cream and drink and begun connecting lines– Your prison was in Pennsylvania, based on the area code on the phone number on that old pizza box, located close enough from both a pizza chain and on a 15 to 20 minutes drive from a Vought-a-Burger, the library held no maps for you to try to find your location but give or take about an hour or two by foot from any civilization… Yet as you drank the mostly melted caramel churro sundae you smiled thinking of how to steal a bike.

That Night you picked two tapes from the wall not caring one bit about what you were going to see, you stared at the camera.

“Hey can one of you check like an underrated 80s movie list from IMDb ‘cuz I seen a few of these already… at least bring me something new!”

As always no response was ever given, you dragged your feet towards that ornate bedroom of yours, pink walls, flowery quits, a matching chaise lounge, a hardwood coffee table bolted to the ground and your private TV and VHS player, it took you an hour to remember how to use these thing that second day here. You put on a movie, curling in your bed in the dark, smelling the sweet flowery smell of fabric softener, this didn’t smell like home, pillows too soft, mattress too soft everything here was made to bring you comfort but it was making you feel like a squatter.

The cold light of the screen enveloped every surface and you slowly faded away as ‘Lady in White’ began to wrap up, eyes glued to the screen so firmly you screamed when the faint red light peeked from the corner, clutching the quilt across your body as the red faded away and all you saw was a vaguely illuminated shape.

Blurry colors with no clean shapes, standing facelessly enough blue to let you see it was humanoid, Homelander creeped closer, his body blocking the light and like a shadow he devours everything, he turned around to pause the player, draping his gloves on the dumb box as he turned around once more, your heart caught in your throat, each breath quick and sharp as he took another step closer, hushing softly and he’s there swallowing you whole he kneeled into the bed the mattress squeaked and chimed sinking under his weight pulling you in, only the faint outline of gold eagles and soft blonde locks told you with absolute certainty that he was here… that 3 days ago you indeed met The Homelander, far from the pretty blue-eyed hunk from the movies more ghoul.

You swallowed as his head rested on the pillow next to your hips, his nose burying in the cushioned pillowcase.

“I was busy with work” He mumbles softly, staring at you with the same playfulness of a guilty pet owner who’d ran out of their cat's churu treats– "I promise to visit, I got you something… left it downstairs for you.”

He stared at your white knuckled hands and without uttering a word you understood his demands, fingers moved by psychic force alone, you welcomed him into your lap as you came undone, burying your digits into his hair, soft like cotton, so smooth you dreamt of cat’s bellies as you scratched him, he took the remote from under you lifting you with so much ease your brain struggled to compute it at first, the movie played and all he wanted was petting.

“Security told me you’ve been good… nothing crazy… am glad, "he said with a tired tone.

“What good would that do me…?” You replied with your eyes focused on the screen.

If you wanted to survive I had to get on his good side, no? you though

“I like it when you people understand your place” He chuckles softly.

‘You people’? You could easily discern the meaning behind his words by tone alone, your finger stopped suddenly, his eyes flaring up immediately.

“I think this would be more productive if you told me exactly what’s going on… I won’t try to run or scream… am just confused and scared…” you spoke bluntly as his gaze met yours in the dark.

“This is my private speakeasy and you’re the bartender… tap too… is hard being on top… and I want some relief… and a sanctum–

“To express your socially unacceptable inclinations/interests? Fair enough I can imagine the press would eat you alive if they found out you liked breastmilk.”

“You’re cute and smart too.” He pushed himself into your stomach, your body sinking to the shape he wanted, holding you tight– I’ll be a good owner and let you asks me absolutely anything you want”

“Why me?”

“Dunno.” His lips tightened into a flat line– the doctors picked you, I asked for a good provider… but all the women downstairs and you did have one thing in common” He sounded awkward as he spoke listening to your increasing heartbeat– you kept producing… I asked to have easy access to my treat but somebody downstairs came out with all of this” his hand lazily gestures around– bit extra I know.”

How simple, he didn’t even care about this to begin with, glaring at him gave you no answers or comfort.

“My family…?”

“They think you killed yourself, I've been told… your ex-hubby been on twitter acting holier than the virgin mary, absolutely devastated for likes” You bit your lips, face scrunching up ready to shout and cry– everybody suspects he murdered you even the cops”

“I'm going to kill him!!” Your tears flowed regardless – god fucking dammit!”

Your whole body rejected the news, twisting your stomach and filling you with needles

“How would you do it?”

“Bash his head in with a hammer…?? I don’t know but fuck him! I wasted 5 years of my life with that bastard!” You cried.

Homelander buried his face into your stomach, hiding the smile on his face. as you cursed outloud for a little bit, he paid no attention to your words.

“Sorry…” You cleaned your tears trying to stop this embarrassing display, the mere thought of him acting like he cared made you sick when he wouldn’t even come to his own son’s funeral– are you gonna hurt me?” you cleaned your nose against the pillow.

He moved so quickly before you knew it he’s face to face and even in this dark room only lit by rolling credits he appeared serene as a painting… It makes your blood run cold.

“Why would I hurt my comforter?”

That night he only slept for a couple hours, never moving from your stomach, holding you regardless, he snored softly, mumbling half-spoken words, lips twitching and brows furrowing, you petted him gently watching his hardened frown melt.

Some days he’d come once, others he’d come five times and then there were the days were you didn’t see him at all, leaving you awkwardly aware about how odd these exchanges felt… for it never felt truly sexual, your fears of molestation and ‘real’ assault dissuaded as you accepted that all this man was doing was come here to whine and bitch about work and suck on your titty– like right now, Homelander has been shouting, talkign so much shit about his coworkers you started to wonder if it was made up for nobody could certainly be that allegedly incompetent, about how stressful it was to do 20 plus media interviews all day, about hoq\w his latest film “Justice Serve” was a fucking nightmare already despite being only half-way thru pre-production.

“Do you even know what it's like to deal with idiots who think they’re better than you because they have an award!?” He put your nipple back in his mouth with a frown– who does Villeneuve think he is” He mumbled into your skin.

Yet he didn’t only bring petty grievances and thirsty lips– he showered you with gifts, perfumes you couldn’t pronounce filled with soft fragrances: sweet but not sugary, warm tones without too much spice. Brought you beauty products to pamper you… to watch you play with from the many cameras in the house, and dressed you like a doll in clothes you honestly wouldn't have bought in the first place, too flowery and tradwifey.

You did so with a fake smile, you’d be pretty for him if you must, keep your tongue in-check and swallow the ever increasing knot in your throat for he at least wasn’t loud towards you, he didn’t yell, he didn’t make scenes… you were just living like his newest pet.

His miniature cow standing in the living room instead of the evergreen pastures outside, VHS tapes and steel food trays made your fence.

You keep busy cleaning this house making stories of who had lived there, Bruce the only one who spoke to you.

Analysing the house inch by inch, there had to have been a spot they’ve missed you kept thinking, you figured that somehow they monitored your sleep cycle, only entering to remove dirty clothes and trash in the death of night, they knew if you were obviously awake, on day 14 you stayed up till around 5 am and not a peep was heard accross the house but as you woke past noon all your trash had been cleaned up, on day 16 you stayed awake all day felt sick passed out and same thing, you would find a way out, you would force them to take you out, all the furniture was glued in its post but if you had to cause a fire you fucking would… as you stared at your clean bedsheets you figure you could force them to come in and drag you outside but as you postulated the possibility of a faux-suicide attempt Homelander’s face flashed accross closed eyes– dare dissapointing him and lose all the goodwill you’d been building, trust, even presents more extravagant than anything your ex ever did.

Had he not kidnapped you, hold you against your will in an underground bunker, used you as a milk fountain and terrified the fuck out of you with his invisible steps in the middle of the night you would had found him charming… endearing even… at least he was still handsome… frightening but handsome.

Day 18-19-20 were the worse so far, days went by and your isolation only grew he had not come by, your meals delivered so quietly you missed them and found them cold, birds either too loud or gone but Homelander never came, every hour the anxiety only grew as you found your throat aching to speak with somebody other than a non-present 80s musician.

You made a stack of the movies you’ve seen yelling to the camera demanding more to watch, abandoning the cause to focus on the obscene collection of Danielle Steel books in the library… at least 30 books, at least it was a distraction as you woke up for the third day in a row without hearing from Homelander.

You talked to yourself, prettier views didn’t make up for human interaction, you had isolated yourselves before… you didn’t eat, shower, answer calls, simply left yourself to rot in your bed, sinking deeper and deeper into your mattress, the calm heartbeat of the machine keeping you alive until the phone battery died, now here you were curling in the couch feeling that endless void inside you screaming back at you, nothing to distract you from it any longer.

How ironic that those days locked in the basement had been the firsts since the funeral that you’d hadn’t thought about it.

Now every sleep came with dreams of distant cries, empty halls that cooed back, and a sense of urgency as time slipped from underneath you, nothing here smelled like him, yet in your sleep you held your pillow as you once held him, swearing it smelled like him, in the silence the singing birds sound like babies, but there’s nothing but creaking floorboards, old pipes and foreign ghosts in this place.

In this endless silence your mind told you this was limbo, jazz solos disguised the pandemonium of a silent afterlife, but as your heart anguished once again you buried yourself in paltry distractions, reading out loud as to keep your vocal chords warm and delude yourself that there was some company in here, mostly to hide the nonexistent crying.

It took you by surprise when half way thru ‘The Ghost’ you heard the buzzing of the steel door, your ears perked up stretching your neck before falling into the floor, shaky knees picked you up once more with a brave kick, quick steeping into the living room– Homelander stood staring at the messy pile talking to the camera to have this sorted and for the first time since you’d been here you sawn another human, who answered his call almost immediately, a man in kevlar rushed in his gun bouncing on his back alongside a young man dragging an ikea bag.

“Homelander!” Your voice was hoarse but he still turned to smile at you.

“We got you some new movies Ms. L/N” The young man spoke dropping the bag with a heavy thud.

“Watch it!” Homelander growled and you saw a slight stain dribble down his pants– just go wait in the library kitten while these ones sort this out for you.”

Your feet moved anyways, too excited by the presence of new faces, had he not cleared his throat you would’ve said anything just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, you looked away and that big steel door was wide open, an armed guard by the exit tho… it was an office, painted white with cool fluorescent lights.

Run, the voices scream.

Run.

For fucks sake run!!\

but...

You stay still.

It’s a test. Run and die, run and he’d snap your spine in thirds before you understand what happened your brain would be separated from your cranium no doubt, you swallow and take a step back, slow heavy agonizing steps lead you to the library.

Homelander’s gaze softens as he watches you sit by the unlit fireplace, he follows you soon after leaving the staff to work behind, you lift your head with a stiff neck, your tongue swollen inside your mouth, he smiles gently dropping to your level, carrying a small box.

The pretty bow doesn’t catch your attention in the least.

Not that dashing smile and ever so blue eyes either.

He tickles your nose without touching.

Chamomile and oat, a pale scent, subtle and clean…

As he scoot closer to you urging you to take the meaningless box held by nude hands, he pets your chin, leaving you to catch nutty tones… his hands smell of almond oil and cream.

He’s talking as he guides your hand into opening the present but you aren’t hearing a single word spoken… all you care about is his aroma…it invides you carving an aching hollow chest, making you dizzy and the world is squeezing your whole body with a thousands of pounds of violent force but you’re still held in one piece, wrapping your neck with the necklace he’d got you, touching every exposed inch leaving traces of sweet almond on you, resting his chin on your stiff shoulder so close whispering sweet nothings to you… hair smells so creamy… milky coconut, it makes you ill– You could name every brand he wore if asked.

“You like it?” He asks into your neck.

‘Like’ what? You guessed he meant the necklace.

“Where have you been?” You asked, wanting to think of anything but that bitter scent.

He pushes you down into the carpet, your hair drapes everywhere so he moves it to give himself no chance to pull it, you can’t even argue but your surprise and discomfort still paints your face, before you can say anything he drops his head on your stomach, nuzzling your dress and pulling your hand towards his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it” his muffle words sound angry, he whined into your stomach a quiet order demanding affection.

Obeying orders before he could whined even more for now you wanted silence again.

Staying like this for as long as he needed, leaving you to speculate what brought him such distress that caused him to abandon you as a result, a part of you stared in awe as you realized you how long this man could stay still without making a sound for.

How long did you lay there in a shared repose that your eyes shut? you wondered as the orange glow of afternoon sun warmed your cheeks, his hand cleaned a falling tear off your face as you woke up with a headache.

“Had a nightmare?”

Your hand unconsciously pulled him close to you, burying his face under your chin he’d awkwardly smiled as he adjusted to your demands, talking to you but it was white noise, your kept him still bridging an arm across his neck locking him in position, your other hand buried in blond, closing your eyes as you got high on shampoo.

In your mind much like your dream you hold him so close, he was plump and giddy, his hair more than a thin tuff, you laughed with him, as you dried his back, you swore to never love the scent of coconut, you held back your pain as you held him with all your might.

“I don’t want to talk about it…”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x fem!reader #personal #my fic tag #the boys amazon #i have not proofread this so i die as the dog that i am #will edit for errors tomorrow cuz its almost midnight when am posting this.

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lou-struck · 11 months ago

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Honesty

Solomon x reader

WC: 2.8k+

~ This is why you aren't supposed to bring food or drink into Solomon’s lab. (or maybe why you should)

Warnings: Potion consumption, reader having a few insecurities, suggestiveness , Solomon overworking himself, food and drink.

A/n: I feel like I'm getting out of this little writing slump. Things have been rough these past few months but I am excited to get back into writing and hopefully making things that you guys enjoy.

Sometimes, when you look at Solomon, you wonder how you and him can both be considered humans.

He radiates this sort of otherworldly power that you just can’t seem to tear your gaze away from.

While the Devildom contains many mysteries, you have a feeling King Solomon the Wise has just a few more. He teases you with these little mysteries when you are working with him in his workshop.

They come out as calculated little mutterings that leave you wanting to know more, but he never gives you the whole story…

“I didn’t mean to burn down the Library of Alexandria.”

“You would’ve loved Atlantis.”

“The Illuminati started out as a book club.”

Sometimes, you do wonder if the cunning Sorcerer is just teasing you, but you don’t mind it all that much. His vast history and little mutterings are what makes him so endearing. Truly a creature all his own.

Solomon is always quick to brush off your questions and praises, directing your attention to one of his most recent experiments. And as you assist him in whatever trouble he is creating, you can’t help but feel as if you are not worthy enough to be at his side as an apprentice or as his love. It’s a small feeling, one that you are able to choke down easier than a bit of his abysmal cooking.

But your heart locks away what it believes to be the truth…

Solomon is amazing, and you’re just you.

Your boots leave little imprints in the dew-covered grass as you cut across the lush lawn of Purgatory Hall; if you weren’t familiar with its inhabitants, you might’ve felt bad about disregarding the well-tended cobblestone pathway just meters away, but due to an unfortunate incident involving Satan and an enchanted flamethrower, you were late for your apprenticeship with Solomon.

It also didn’t help that Luke, the sweet little angel, sent you a text sharing his concerns about the Sorcerer who hasn’t left his laboratory since last night and skipped breakfast and lunch to perform his experiments or whatever it is he does in there.

Your bag is filled to the brim with all sorts of little snacks and a few bottled juices, the glass bottles clinking suspiciously as you climb the steps of the enormous porch and let yourself in through the front door.

You don’t even have to think, you’ve been here so many times before you find yourself outside the door of the lab. Save for the sound of shuffling feet and clinking glassware, all is quiet.

You open the door as quietly as you can and see that Solomon is already hard at work. The Sorcerer is so entranced in his work, grinding some sort of luminous herb into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle. He hasn’t even noticed your presence yet.

But boy, do you notice his…

The sleeves of his white lab coat are rolled up to his forearms as he works diligently. Although he has been working non-stop for hours, he doesn’t look tired in the least. His snow-white hair is ruffled, and his skin seems to glow in the light of the bunsen burners. He is truly in his element, and it’s captivating to watch.

“Were you planning on just watching from the doorway, mc?”

The playfulness in his tone pulls you from your ogling as you step further into the room, inhaling the citrus aroma that wafts through the air.

“Sorry about that.” you grin half-heartedly. “It’s been a long day, and I guess I zoned out there for a minute.”

It’s a lie, but one that you deemed necessary for the situation. It’s too embarrassing to be honest all the time.

“Oh, I see.” His response is short, and your poor ears must still be off in wonderland because they seem to pick up a hint of disappointment in his tone. He tosses his ground herbs into a bubbling mixture that seems to glow a neon orange color. You’re sure there is a better term for it, but It honestly just looks like Sunny D.

“What have you been working on?” you ask, setting your bag down to the right of a crate of glass soda bottles, each full of something different.

He smiles and gestures around the room. “A bit of everything, I’m afraid. I found this old potion guide at a secondhand bookstore and wanted to see if I could improve the outdated recipes.”

“All of those?” you ask, realizing that he must’ve made at least fifty or so potions since last night.

He gives you a proud smile and nods. “I may have gone overboard. At about four in the morning, I realized that I ran out of normal vials, so I had to improvise and use some empty bottles from the kitchen.”

“And did you eat anything while you were down there?” you ask, shooting him a knowing smile.

“It may have escaped my mind.” he sighs. “Once I start working, there are very few things that can distract me from the task at hand.

“Then you are lucky I came prepared,” you smile, looking down at your bag of snacks. “Wanna take a break and tell me about some of them?”

“You know me too well,” he sighs, teasingly approaching you and wrapping his arm around you. “So, what’s on the menu today?”

Your skin heats up under his touch, but you remain composed. You hide the shake in your hand as you reach into your bag and pull out two glass bottles of cheap Demonus. You like this particular variety because it looks like bright grape juice, and it may just be a placebo, but you think it tastes a bit like it, too.

“Oh, drinking in the lab, are we?” he teases, twisting off the cap to his bottle as the liquid fizzles. “I suppose that’s alright for today since I didn’t make anything lethal.”

Your eyes land back on the crate of similar-looking bottles next to you. “What about these? Are you sure they are safe?”

“Boringly so,” he frowns, removing the first glass bottle from the crate and removing the cap for you to smell its contents.

The Mint colored liquid smells oddly enough like Black licorice when you inhale it. “It smells good; what does it do?”

“This one here was originally designed to turn your fingertips silver; I tweaked the recipe to only target the drinker’s nail beds.” He explains, a smile tugging at his features when he sees the natural curiosity and wonder on your features. “It’s not permanent, but I thought it would be interesting to see it used cosmetically.”

You’ve only been in the Devildom for a short time, but you are sure there aren’t many individuals who are able to grasp magic as easily as Solomon can. His brown-blue eyes look ethereal as they shine from his passion.

He’s Amazing

Brilliant

and far too handsome for his own good.

As much as you wish to compliment him on each and every one of these things until your voice becomes hoarse, that little bit of insecurity masked as self-preservation holds your tongue. Opting instead to take a sip of your Demonus, the sweet taste distracts you from the wonder that is Solomon enough so you can think of a less embarrassing response. The sugar seems to help, and you set the bottle back on the table.

“That’s so cool,” you say at last with true enthusiasm. You are unable to hide your curiosity as your eyes dart back to the crate of potions.

“Still curious?” he asks as you nod eagerly; he sets the fist bottle back into its slot and grabs another; he removes the cap and swirls the purple liquid around just as he did to the other one.

“Here, smell this one,” he says, gently holding the bottle out to you. Just as you were about to smell the potion, your attention was stolen by a fizzling sound. Both of your heads jolt towards the source and see that the cauldron he had been working with earlier fizzles out of control as a fluffy of electrically charged multicolored bubbles pop in the air.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he states, setting the uncorked potion down and rushing over to lower the cauldron's heat and stop the potion overflow. “I hope the heat doesn’t alter the potion’s effects too drastically.”

“What kind of potion was that?” you call over as he carefully stirs the mixture.

“Nothing special,” he murmurs, “it just turns body hair into miniature porcupine quills; I’m planning on using this later, so it would be a shame if it were to be ruined.”

His response sends you into an ugly fit of laughter that has you choking on air. You reach for your juice on the table and take a deep swig to soothe your throat and save yourself from further embarrassment, but as the liquid reaches your lips, you notice that something tastes off.

Instead of the sweet fruity taste of demonus your tastebuds are assulted with this dry sourness with just a hint of bubblegum.

“This tastes like shit,” you find yourself saying. Your brows furrow from your little slip of the tongue, and you hope Solomon is too focused on stirring the cauldron to notice your little slip-up.

But his eyes are on you, a twinkle of amusement on his features as he takes in every inch of you. The attention is nice, but it makes you feel a bit flustered.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Your tone is much firmer than you anticipated. It’s almost as if you are scolding the Sorcerer.

He raises his eyebrows, that signature smirk never leaving his face. “Take a look at your hand. It appears you made a mistake.”

You look down and see that he is right. Instead of your Demonus, it seems you had mistakenly gulped down a large portion of whatever purple potion Solomon was about to show you.

Your heart drops into your already unsettled stomach. “Oh my god, am I gonna die?” you mutter aloud, breaking your mental dam and flooding the room with worried word vomit. “Solomon, why on earth would you make a potion in such a normal-looking bottle? Did you do this on purpose? I’m such an idiot around you, and I hate that you have to see me as such a screw-up.” “Am I going to die?”

“If I die, I’m going to ruin the exchange program, and Diavolo will be upset with me. And do you know how bad it is to piss off the prince of hell?”

“I don’t, but I’ll certainly find out soon.”

Solomon processes your frantic word vomit quickly and comes to your aid. He places both his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from pacing across the room. “Mc, listen to me. The potion is harmless, I promise.”

“What?” you pause and look at him carefully. He looks calm, but in his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes are a look of concern for you.

“Heh, your eyes are pretty, did you know that?” you ask him, only to panic about your lack of a filter.

“What?”

“Wait?”

“Why am I saying such embarrassing things out loud?” your face feels hot in shame as Solomon’s cheeks turn pink at your words, and he averts his gaze briefly before collecting himself.

“So, have you figured out what the potion does yet?” he chuckles, hands still holding your shoulders.

“Is it a potion that makes me embarrass myself to death?” you quip

“Not quite.” he chuckles, “What you just drank is a special kind of truth potion.”

“How is it special?” you ask, allowing him to guide you to one of the chairs in his lab.

He beams, and you feel your heart tighten in your chest.

“This little potion just makes you say what’s on your mind; it removes one’s filter, making for quite a chaotic conversation.” he hums, somehow still keeping the innocence on his face. “It’s not really useful for interrogations or anything like that, but I had planned on slipping it in at our next dinner together at the House of Lamination for a bit of entertainment.”

“That would be funny,” you say unabashedly, already dreaming up the chaos that would ensue if each of the brothers just spouted off whatever came to their mind. “But how long am I stuck like this?”

He checks his pocket watch, “Don’t worry,” the results should wear off in a few hours or so, so hang tight. It may be best for you to stay with me tonight so I can observe these effects up close.”

“That’s a cute way of saying you just want to use me as your guinea pig.” you huff, shifting in your chair. “But if it means I get to spend some more time with you, that is a good thing.”

Despite the blush on his cheeks, Solomon remains composed. “Is that so?” he teases. “Do you really enjoy my company that much?”

Your loose tongue only makes you feel more emboldened as you answer that flirty little question of his. “I do.”

“Then may I tell you a secret, Mc?” He smiles as you nod without hesitation. The potion affecting more than just your speech. “I think I enjoy your company far more than you enjoy mine.”

Your eyes find that all too interesting ground at his sweet words. “That’s impossible, you’re incredible, Solomon. Compared to you, I feel like such a disappointment down here.”

The Sorcerer’s snowy brow furrows in disbelief as you spill another troubling confession.

“If that’s what it takes to convince you just how much I love you, then I suppose you leave me with no other choice.” he sighs, grabbing the half-empty potion bottle and downing it in one greedy gulp.

Your eyes widen, and you reach for his wrist, but you’re too slow to stop him. “Sol, what are you doing?”

“Just telling you what you need to hear.” he grimaces as the foul taste of the potion dances on his tongue. “Wow, this really does taste foul, doesn’t it? I’ll have to tweak this recipe for sure if I’m going to use it later.”

He sets the now-empty bottle back onto the countertop and looks at you with sincerity. “It hurts to hear you talk about yourself like you mean nothing.” he pauses and places his hands on your shoulders, and you wonder when they started trembling. “You are the most incredible individual I have ever met. You’re kind, sweet, caring, and and strong. You make me feel human.”

His word vomit differs from yours. Yours was panic, shame, and insecurity. His is honest-to-goodness love. You aren’t going to acknowledge the tears that spill from your glassy eyes. But you do know that he is right. You’re too cruel to yourself.

“I love you, Sol. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice on the matter.” he smiles, leaning over you and brushing away a tear track from your warm cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But whenever you want me to tell you how I feel, all you have to do is ask.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you lean forward in your seat. Your gaze never leaving his soft pink lips that hover temptingly above you. “Then will you show me?”

He smiles, his pearly whites shining like the moon, before crouching down to your eye level. His hands on either one of the arms rest as he leans in. “A million times over.”

He leans in and steals your breath away in the most honest exchange between the two of you all day. Your eyes flutter shut as your mind begins to swirl from the presence of the man who loves you. You can’t help but think about how honest this silence between the two of you is.

You stay locked in this passionate embrace until the lack of air burning your lungs reminds the two of you of the limits of your humanity.

It’s comfortable silence again, and Solomon looks at you as if he had just witnessed you paint all the constellations in the forever dark devildom sky.

It’s endearing, but thanks to this wonderful little accident, you have been presented with quite an interesting opportunity.

“Hey, Sol?”

“Yes, Mc?”

“Since you drank the potion too, I guess you have to tell me the whole Atlantis thing now.” you giggle playfully, ruffling his hair.

His laughter is pleasant as he removes your hand from his head and kisses the back of it softly.

“That’s not how this potion works, my dear,” he grins, watching your lip just out in a pout as you remember his words from earlier.

He’ll tell you everything one day, but for now, all Solomon wants to do while waiting for this little truth potion to wear off is to voice his plans for the future with you, not think about his past life without you.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date fluff #obey me shall we date #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #obey me solomon #x reader #obey me nightbringer

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justtryingtobecreative · 2 years ago

Text

Neteyam x human reader

Chapter 1

(Tw: A fuckload of smut + size kink)

Summary: Neteyam and Y/n have been best friends since childhood, but lately your big blue guy has been acting strange. It all comes to a head when the both of you have a bit too much to drink... and have to deal with the repercusions in the morning.

The reader is referred to as 'she' or 'you'. Neteyam and reader are aged up to twenty-one.

Disclaimer: Neteyam wil never ever ever die on my page, because fuck that.

It had been a couple years since the small group of human's were allowed to join the clan. Although they were considered outsiders even after al they went through together. It was still hard being part of "The sky people", but you were glad to live here anyway.

You had been a friend of the sully kids for years. But if you were honest Neteyam and you had always been the closest, over the years you and Neteyam became thick as thieves, not one day spend apart.

That is how you became close with the other Na'vi of your age, your smaller form constantly seen with Neteyams friends. They ofcourse did things without you, but all the things you could do with them they gladly took you with.

Neytiri, Neteyams mom still thought of you as a 'sky demon' but honestly considering the circumstances you didn't blame her.

Problems began to arrise as you entered adulthood, people around Neteyam were expecting him to take a mate soon. Your blue guy remained cool on the outside, but in private he told you his reasons for not taking a mate yet.

He told you one quiet evening by the fire, just a few days before a big celebration in the clan honoring Eywa. You two tired and burned out after helping prepare the decorations.

"I guess i am just waiting for something." Your big blue guy had muttered when you asked, before grasping your hand.

His eyes were closed and he looked lost in thought, the spots on his nose lighting up in the darkness. He was beautifull. You weren't stupid enough to deny that, you knew he had many unmated female suitors.

That totally did not at all bother you.

You give his leg a pat, "I guess i understand that.. I have a feeling your dad and Norm are trying to get me and spider together.." you let out a loud scoff before giving your friend a nudge "They will surely relent soon"

They had indeed tried to get you alone with Spider all week. Creating strange scenarios like a fusebox broken in the basement that you and spider had to fix, But 'accidentally' losing the key locking you in for about two hours. There had been multiple other 'broken' things that had never broken before and them being locked in small spaces.

Neteyam's face turned toward yours in a flash startling you a bit, he seemed to gather himself before sighing "Just what are these people up to.." he muttered with a strange expression on his face. He just pulled you under his arm, his bare skin brushing across your neck.

You shivered at the touch, a warm sensation settling into your chest. "Don't worry you big blue alien, your still my number one guy" you joked trying to cheer him up. It didn't really work and the small smile on your lips fell quickly.

After a while of loud silence he spoke up again, "Do you like him?" He asked in a wary tone, reseating himself. He seemed slightly insecure, which wasn't something you saw often.

"Who?" You asked bluntly.

"Spider"

You remained silent for a second, really thinking about the question. You didn't really feel a lot for spider except friendship, but you did admit that the efforts of Jake and Norm had changed something there.

You knew Spider thought the same, you two would just be friends for now but after everyone else around you get mated you both will get together as well.

"It's just friendship for now" You muttered softly looking him in the eye, his pupils dilating. You looked at your grasped hands, you were so different but also strangely the same. Those realisations of the fast differences between you and your best friend came often, these days it made you a bit sad though.

"Its friendship.... for now" He muttered seemingly more to himself before sitting up straight and removing his arm from your shoulders. The skin there now feeling strangely bare. You stared at him with wide eyes.

You didn't like this behavior, at all.

Neteyam stood up a bit too fast for it to be normal, him starting to walk away instantly.

"Teyam?" You yelled as you basically had to jog to keep up with his fast pace. "Are you allright? Is something the matter?"

Neteyam threw his hands in the air in exasperation letting out a frustrated groan, his arm almost hitting you in the face.

He sighed, his eyes turning distant "Just.... just.. I'll see you in two days at the party, im going ...away for a few days." He muttered with an unsetling sigh. He strolled away fast, and you knew you would be too slow to follow him.

This wasn't like the normally calm and gentle Neteyam at all, and a sinking feeling dropped in your stomach as you remembered the tortured look on his face as he left.

~~~

It was the next morning that kiri told you her brother had indeed left, he had bargained with his father for permission. After a while even Neytiri had caved, understanding that their eldest son was responsible enough to go into the wildernis alone.

The days leading up to the party were long and incredibly boring without Neteyam there. And for the first time ever you found yourself missing his touch. You wondered why you hadn't noticed the strain between the two of you before. It now seemed so stupid.

~~~

It was finally the day of the party, and with a bit of bargaining from their side you, Kiri and Tuk had all made a full day out of it. The celebration would start in the evening, and everyone needed to look the part too. So you were all picking out options together.

The Na'vi brought out their best jewelry, tops and loincloth's. You had completely refused to wear anything Kiri had recommended at first, most of the clothes showing wayy more skin than you were comfortable with.

In the end you had settled for a short twirly dress, you Kiri and Tuk had filled it with gorgeous beading and shiny gems. The colour of the beading reflected in colourfull lines around your eyes, your arms covered with painted blue lines. All in all you looked gorgeous, not in the Na'vi way, but in your own.

You could honestly say that even with the dress showing your legs, arms and a bit of upper boob, it was still better than wearing a literal bikini. You were NOT the same as Spider in that regard, who was covered in painted stripes and only in his underwear most of the time.

Kiri and tuk, who were wearing absolutely gorgeous jewelry and beaded loincloths walked next to you as you crossed camp to get to the top of the tempe. All around you the Na'vi were painted and done up just as the Sully family would be.

A heavy feeling settled in your stomach,

Kiri put a soft hand on your arm in support "It will turn out allright, im sure you'll have fun." She whispered as you walked onward together.

The temple had been decorated beautifully with colourfull cloth hung on walls and glowing plants decorating the branches above you casting the crowd in a blue light.

The place looked absolutely aetherial. You had to take a shaky breath to settle your nerves.

Located on the other side of the crowd on a higher platform than the others sat the current Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, also known as Jake and Neytiri. Their clothes were decorated even more intricately than the people in the crowd, with big feathers and glowing facepaint showing of their catlike features.

Jake stood up starting his speech, but right at that exact moment your gaze fell upon a stern looking Neteyam standing a bit behind his father. He was wearing one of his intricate loincloth's, his face painted with orange stripes that complimented his yellow eyes perfectly. In the soft light you noticed the toned muscles and broad shoulders Neteyam now posessed. Not to mention the beautifull braids that framed his face.

He looked, handsome...attractive,

You saw him search te crowd with his eyes, but as his intense stare met your own you quickly looked away. He had totally caught you staring, you thought as a blush spread on your cheeks.

You patted your warm cheeks as you gathered yourself, "Oh noo, this isn't good" you murmured a bit too loud. Kiri giving you a strange look.

Jake was apparently finished with his speech as the tribal music of the Na'vi began playing. It seemed tonight was a sort of dancing/socialising occasion as people either went to talk to people they knew or to dance.

Tuk pulled you with her taking your arms and wiggling them about basically making you dance with her. You laughed as she spoke, "let's dance y/n!" Tuk yelled loudly as she twirled you around.

Kiri grasped on of both of your hands, joining your little circle with a soft smile. Dancing here together like this felt so special, so magnificent that for a moment you forgot the war and the confusing feelings you had for Neteyam.

After what felt like hours and after Spider and Lo'ak had joined your little group a little while back, you finally excused yourself to get something to eat. Only you weren't really hungry at all.

You strolled to a quiet corner your eyes scrolling past the crowd in search of one particulair Na'vi. And finally you found him,

On the other side of the crowd, just visible through all the wiggling bodies. Was Neteyam, he stood against the far wall of the room. His face blank of emotion, his eyes intently fixed on.. you?

It was like you were magnetic, both drawn to eachother as you started through the crowd toward him. You noticed Jake Sully demanding attention from the Na'vi at the front, allready starting a speech. A small glance showed that he had skiretshe a sort of Na'vi drink held in the air, you didn't stop your pace toward Neteyam but the crowd was too dense to get through because of Jake's sudden speech.

The people around you started passing on goblets of the Na'vi alcohol, and it was for sure about to be some kind of ritual thing. As a Na'vi you recognised as one of Neteyam's friends handed you a small cup, only the bottom filled with the drink. He gave you a teasing smile at your questioning look before making his way through the crowd again.

Norm had told you to stay away from the drink, he had said one sip of the stuff was equal to two shots of vodka. You didn't know what vodka was, but you doubted it was really that bad. And who would you be to refuse a gift?

You glanced at the greenish liquid that sloshed about in the cup, you counted about five sips maybe more. What was honestly the worst that could happen?

A loud cheer ran through the temple as Jake finished his speech, you bringing the drink to your mouth in one fluid motion just as the people around you had done, you chugging the bitter liquid down.

You almost hurled it back out, but thankfully stopped yourself.

Your eyes ran to the other side of the room again, Neteyam placing down his much larger cup no doubt formerly filled with skiretshe on a nearby table.

The travel toward your friend felt way farther than before as the blue light of the plants started to look even more magical than before, thereby distracting you.

Finally you broke free of the crowd, being elbowed a bit too many times in your rush. You suddenly found yourself stood in front of Neteyam, and a weight that had never been there before now rested in your stomach.

"Teyam?" You asked softly placing a tentative hand on his arm. He seemed transfixed on your features, him placing his hand on the side of your neck just below the oxygen mask. It was like he was checking your pulse,

He had his eyes closed for a second before he sighed. "Y/n I don't really have anything to say to you. I can't... be friends with you anymore... I just can't" his voice was like a knife to the heart.

"You can't decide to suddenly leave. I love.. i mean you are my best friend" You choked out stuttering over the words.

"You don't understand, i can't" he gritted his teeth. You went to place your hand on his arm but he pulled away harshly. He gave you a wide eyed stare Him rushing into a small alcove between two houses, no doubt trying to run once again.

You followed him into the shadowed alley, anger and confusion swirling in your stomach.

"Neteyam! You stop. Right. This. Second!" Your yell echoed through the alley,

He stopped with his back turned to you, you saw his jaw clench, his body shaking. The dark hid a lot of his other features, the spots on his back glowing.

You walked toward him, about to tap his back to get him to turn around. Before you could even graze him he turned his musculair body around. His tall form looming over you, you both standing a bit to close to one another.

He let out a breath, it fogging up the top of your oxygen mask. You could see his eyes glow in the dark, the edges of his face blurring.

He leaned into you and slowly cornered you between the wall and him. "I need you to push me away" He muttered inhaling into your hair, letting out a shaky breath.

The drink from before might have kicked in more than you thought as you spoke without any shame "Teyam, you could do anything to me. And i'd let you." Your hand touched muscle, your hand placed upon the underside of his stomach.

Neteyam let out a shaky breath, his cheeks turning a shade of purple. "I will then... i will do what i want to you" he slid his hands under your thighs lifting you up against the wall, basically stradling him. You let out a startled squeek.

You squirmed around a bit at the new position, you weren't nervous anymore probably due to the alcohol. But you were stradling him just over his loincloth, it felt a bit to good to rub against him.

He groaned "Please stop" his deep voice whispered in your ear "You should only do that if you are ready for everything".

You stopped for a second just looking at the man holding you, he looked beautifull like this, flushed, glowing and focussed on you. The warm undeniable yearning came back full force, your hips buckling toward him automatically.

You let out a moan, your cheeks warming up at the unfamiliar feeling between your legs. Neteyam groaned as well, slightly pressing himself against you. He attempted to place his forehead on yours, he let out a unsatisfied groan as his skin hit the glass.

You placed your arms around him in response your hands resting on his toned back, "Please.. i need to touch you" you gasped.

Neteyam seemed to think for a second before letting out a loud whistle, his Ikran appearing within minutes. He carried you on the back of the huge beast placing you down in front of him, making sure your body was still straddling his. He had a serious expression on his face, and bathed in the soft moonlight it was almost like he was years older.

He seemed selfassured, like he knew exactly what he was doing and what it would entail. A thought swirled around the back of your mind wondering if your family would notice you were both gone. You shook it off.

They took off right away, Neteyam holding onto you with one arm, pressing you against his body tightly. Once in a while he would give you a glance, you weren't sure what kind it was but you saw the hunger in his gaze.

While in the air it was largely quiet, and somewhere inside you sat the worry that he would be sober enough to refrain from touching you when you'd arrive. Your own hazy mind didn't even consider stopping, the entire thing had allready dampened your underwear anyway.

He guides the large winged beast downward making sure he decended right before the human lab. He grasped onto the small of your waist tightly and with a jump of the Ikran, you accidentally rub against him with the movement.

He gritted his teeth, "I need you...right. now." he breathed not waiting on a reply. He threw open the door closing it behind him in one fluid motion. Strolling toward your quarters without issue, having seen the inside of the lab countless of times.

His big Na'vi body made the trip in minutes whereas a human would have taken twice as long, you where reminded once again just how different you two were.

"Teyam?" You asked whilst trying to catch his gaze, he turned to you in question. "You really need to get an oxygen tank" you finished seeing the realisation in his eyes. He softly put you down on the ground.

"Im going to get it" Neteyam quickly left the room, giving you a few seconds to gather yourself and to take of your own mask. You took a deep breath in and out, fidling with a loose bead on your dress.

Your mind was growing hazier by the second, the alcohol hitting full force.You startled as Neteyam returned too soon, now standing before you with a gaze fixed intently on your form.

The ache inside your stomach became almost unbearable. Only one word slipping of your tongue "Please..." You breathed out.

The words brought new life to your best friend stood before you, his dark eyes fixed onto your dress. He stalked forward, his hands finding the dress instantly. When he couldn't find the clasp you felt his strong arms pull you fowards.

His hands felt the edges of the dress "I need this off right now" he muttered. "There is a zipper down the back.." Your voice felt stange coming out of your mouth, you turned your back toward him.

His fingers struggled with the small zipper for a second. "No, this is a waste of time" he muttered in your ear before pushing you forward a bit too harshly you grasping one of the metal edges of the bed in suprise.

"I am sorry, i will accept your anger later" he murmured before you heard a hash ripping sound, a chill running down your back.

"Oh. my. god." you let out, your mind running eight miles an hour your ruined dress barely clinging to your form. This until you felt a soft touch on your neck, this continueing downward as Neteyam placed soft kisses down your back.

"You wear too many clothes.." he groaned, his breath fanning your lower back. His hands grabbed your bra, simply tearing the clasp apart.

He helped you stand and turn toward him, pulling your dress and underwear of your body throwing the clothes behind him.

You shivered a bit, the cool air perking up your nipples. You automatically placed your hands around your body hiding the most 'indecent' places.

Neteyam stood stock still in front of you, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled lust. "You should remove those arms right now." there was a warning in his words. You hesitated for too long, your best friend walking closer to you.

His hands wrapped around your arms moving them to the side as he pushed you down on the bed, the metal groaning at the movement. You letting out a loud whine at the sudden move.

Neteyam hovered above you effectively pinning you down, placing his legs over yours to hold you still. He nuzzled his head into your neck, releasing a shaky breath.

His head moved upwards to stare into your eyes, not removing his hands of your wrists at all. Your face felt hot and your arms slightly ached from his strong grip, you were lost to the world.

He glanced down at your body, "You are soft" he leant his head down, nuzzling your left breast, his nose tickling the soft skin "Soft, and mine" he murmured. You let out a wanting moan at his words, Neteyam's eyes widening at the sound.

You glanced down at his body, "I want to see you," you whispered looking into his eyes, he normally would have hesitated, but at your own bare body laid out beneath him he only cared of touching your skin with his own.

He leant down expertly releasing the straps of his loincloth revealing the massive erection underneath. You gasped, your mouth filling with saliva at the sight.

Your hazy mind did not even consider it not fitting, more in awe at the lewd sight. Neteyam pulled you upward with one fluid motion placing you in the middle of the bed.

Neteyam grasped your chin softly turning your head toward him, "This is the last time i will ask you if you are sure," his eyes were half lidded, "If you let me kiss you, i won't be able to stop" he slightly pushed himself against you.

"I want you, all of you" you didn't hestitate softly placing your hands on his cheeks, looking him back in the eyes.

"I need you, to make love to me" You whispered softly giving him a small smile, his eyes darkening at the words.

Neteyam leant down covering your body with his, placing his weight on his arms and legs but making sure his torso covered most of yours. All you saw, thought and felt was Neteyam.

His lips hit yours in a kiss, your wet mouth finally covered by his as he deepened the kiss. You sucked on eachothers tongues, kissed his lips and shared saliva. The lewd sounds and little moans echoed through the room, the sounds hollow because of the metal.

His hand slid between your legs without warning making you let out a squeel, he felt around your folds, one of his fingers brushing over your clit, his rough hand hitting the spot harshly.

You let out a choked moan into his mouth, he removed his mouth from yours pausing to stare in your eyes. He experimentally went over te spot again, you letting out another moan beginning to pant slightly.

Neteyam smirked at you, a knowing look on his face as he moved his hand lower. You felt one of his four fingers circle around your entrance slowly covering his finger in your essence before reaching up and sucking his finger clean.

You let out a moan as his hand traveled downward again, him placing his palm on your clit and slowly dipping one of his fingers in your cunt.

His eyes ran over your face searching for any discomfort. When he didn't see any he slowly added another, you grinded into his hand a bit at the action. This was an unfamiliar feeling, you had experimented with your own fingers. But now you didn't have the control at all, completely at the mercy of him.

You felt his fingers far inside of you, the foreign feeling strange and exciting.

"So soft," he murmured as he started pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. He kept a firm eye on your face, making sure to make you moan. You felt a sudden knot forming in your stomach, his long fingers almost hitting that spot that you wanted them to.

"Another, please" you murmured, his eyes widening at your words. He slipped another finger in without hesitation making you let out another moan.

You were now starting to feel the stretch of his fingers, Neteyam obviously realising the tight grip on his fingers as well. He set a lazy pace, rubbing a bit at your clit every thrust.

His breaths began to get uneven, you knew he had to get oxygen soon.

The knot in your stomach coiled tightly, slowly unraveling at the pleasure. Neteyam pulled out of you slowly, reaching over the side of the bed and breathing in oxygen from the oxygen tank.

"Are you allright?" You murmured softly sitting up slightly. The big alien didn't respond, just crawling back on the bed and pushing you back down. He parted your legs in a smooth motion, entering his fingers back into your body.

You let out a broken moan at the sudden feeling of fullness.

He just gave you a satisfied look rubbing over your clit purposefully as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, the wet sound echoeing through the room.

"You are almost prepared, im going to add one more" he whispered in your ear, sliding his fourth finger into you. The stretch was a bit painfull, your face pulling into a grimace.

Neteyam placed a soft hand on your cheek, "You are doing so well, you are squeezing my hand so tightly." He kept fucking you with his hand, cooing at you during.

You began to shake softly your body tilting toward him and pressing yourself closer to his hand. Neteyam observed you, running his eyes over every inch of you. "You like my fingers don't you? I can't wait to see you take me." He whispered as his breath fanned your cheek.

The knot in your stomach finally came loose at his words, releasing your juices on his hand and overwhelming you with pleasure. "Neteyam." You murmured, his eyes glinting dangerously at your words.

"Yes you are mine." He quickly reached his hand down feeling how far you had stretched, a satisfied expression on his face.

Now again if the two of you had been sober you might have let reason overcome you. But you weren't sober, and you both Really wanted it to fit. So you were going to make sure it did.

You shimmied upwards on the bed closing your legs momentarily, your hands grabbing ahold of the metal bed frame above you. "No, you don't hide from me. You are mine, mine alone." He growled as he grasped your legs and pulled them apart harshly.

He lined himself up right away, rubbing the large tip just between your folds. His eyes found yours again, "You still want this right?" He asked softly, still running the tip of his cock over your clit making you squirm and honestly kind of influencing your decision.

You eyed his member it almost as large as your underarm, the tip was a bit bigger than the rest of his lenght which was covered in dark blue veins. It looked daunting, but you really wanted him inside you.

You nodded your head without hesitation, your liquid courage dissepating your fear. "Yes, i want you so much" you finally murmured.

Neteyam simply nodded bracing himself on the metal of the bed. "I am going to start slow, he murmured" not wasting any time as you instantly felt the tip of his cock entering you.

The pain registered in your body and you squirmed a bit as it stretched you out. The pain was almost blinding, but you got to catch your breath as Neteyam held still inside you.

He let out a low groan, "You feel so warm" he murmured, "Are you allright?" The tip fully popped inside your body, your vision turning white because of the pain.

The haze in your mind lifted a bit, "Please just, just hold still for a second" you whispered, catching your breath and tightly clutching onto the headbord.

Neteyam took the time to reach over the side of the bed and take a puff of oxygen. The movement accidentally pushing him in a little more, you choking on a breath at the sudden pain and pleasure. He let out a harsh moan at the unfamiliar feeling letting out a small "sorry".

He rubbed your cheek with his large hand rubbing away your tears and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, you hadn't even realised you had began crying.

It took a while and you were near to giving up, when the big stretch finally started to feel less so. So when your big blue best friend reached over again to get some oxygen, you let out a startled moan at the sudden burst of pleasure as he moved inside of you.

Neteyam let out a tortured groan, before quickly scrolling you for any sign of pain. You breathed heavily your hips having a mind of their own as you fucked yourself into his lap. His gaze was heavy as he watched you move at just the tip of him.

"Please, give me all of it. I can take it." You mumble with half lidded eyes.

He let out a groan, not complying right away. "It is too big to go in all the way," he mumbled, it seemed his liquid courage wasn't as much in effect anymore.

No way were you going to back off now. You lifted yourself up startling him, placing your legs around his hips and harshly driving him right into you.

Neteyam let out a shaky moan, you feeling his entire cock sitting in your stomach stretching you out painfully. His hands holding onto you carefully like he was unsure if he would hurt you.

You squirmed, him letting out a harsh moan.

Neteyam sat up in a sudden motion, keeping himself sheated inside you as he moved you upwards on his lap, him now sitting on the bed and against the wall with you stradling him.

You whimpered a bit as this new position drove him even deeper. Your legs sat around him gravity pushing you down, there was no way to adjust yourself in your current state.

There was no way to lift yourself off even the tiniest bit of his cock, Neteyams arms folded around your shoulders keeping you firmly in place. He had his eyes closed for a second, his breath shallow. "You feel so good, so tight" he murmured in your ear before letting his eyes graze over you with a satisfied look.

The unfamiliar feeling of being filled to the brim felt lewd. The thought of someone seeing you seated on the large aliens large member strangely exiting you a bit. Not to mention the way he was wrapped around you... and you were wrapped around him.

He let out a groan as he scanned your body, his fingers softly dragging over the remaining blue lines on your shoulders

Neteyam's eyes grew wild, his pupils dilated. He hungrily observed the place you were joined together. Him letting out a low groan before he placed his face in your neck scenting you, his nose brushing your skin.

His hips began rutting into you a bit, the movement pushing you up and down on his member. You moaned at the sudden pumping, the coiling pleasure steadily building in your stomach.

His eyes widened at the feeling, the tight grip around his member setting his entire being aflame.

Neteyam let out a vibrating growl as he pushed you back down on your back, suddenly grinding into you harshly. Almost making you pass out from the sudden sensitivity.

He picked up his pace moving hard but at a slow pace, every thrust brushing his pubic bone against your clit.

You were being emptied and filled again at an impossible pace. Him pressing you down against the matress as he slammed into you.

His eyes were glassy and dialated, his features seeming more like those of an wild animal rather than the ones of the calm boy you knew. His tail wrapped around your leg and braids brushing your face as he ingulfed you completely.

He was truly lost to the world, his body seemingly moving in and out of you instictively. You kissed and sucked on his neck, a groan escaping him. His hand felt the bottom of your stomach, very pleased at the bulge in your stomach of his cock sheated deeply inside of you. He let out another groan.

You were incredibly overwhelmed at the full feeling circling your stomach, your mind beginning to grow hazy again as bolts of pleasure ran through your body.

He leant down to kiss you, placing his tongue in your mouth without warning. The warm and moist feeling of his mouth on yours distracting you as whimpers and wet sounds echoed in the room.

The sounds, the act, the creaking of the bed it was the most sinfull thing the both of you had ever done, and it was also one of the most risky.

They both knew that if one of their parents or mentors came to the lab, they would instantly get caught.

You both couldn't find it in you to care.

He was like a wild animal as he growled in your ear, "I'm going to fill you with my seed, you are mine." He was hitting you in the most sensitive spot, his harsh pace not letting you breath for one second as the tip of his cock consistently stretched you out. You felt him swell inside of you,

Your vision started to get blurry as your orgasm approached. Neteyam's hard thrusts hitting you so deep in your stomach you could see stars. He faltered above you, his movements growing erratic as he grasped onto you with his whole being.

"You feel so good, im never going to let you go again" he rambled as his strong hands held onto your soft flesh and his strong body covered yours from the world.

"You are all mine" he said with a harsh moan as you felt his seed spill deep into you, the warm liquid seeping into your womb. His cock still pumping it further into you.

You moaned at the strange feeling, your vision turning white as your own pleasure came to it's breaking point sending you right over the edge, letting out a loud whimper as you felt yourself clench and unclench on his cock.

"You are squeezing my cock so well, you were made just for me." he groaned not stopping his rutting into you. He placed a hand on the bottom of your stomach again just over the spot his member and seed were pressed inside of you.

"Iet me stay inside you a little longer" he mumbled as he sluggily lifted you with him while he took a puff of oxygen, now attaching the small tubes to his nose and laying down on the bed.

"Im so tired," your voice was weak and your body was spend. He placed a few kisses on your face and neck, a smile circling his lips as he gazed at you.

"You can go to sleep now, you are safe with me"

Neteyam gave you a satisfied look, before tucking you in his arms and pulling you under the covers. Neither having the energy to clean up.

You both fell asleep quickly, responsibilities forgotten.

~~~

A harsh knock echoed on the door, a male voice echoeing through the room. "What?" You asked loudly, your mind not working yet. A sigh from the other side of your door before the voice repeated itself.

"I said! Is Neteyam there with you? Neytiri and Jake are combing out the whole camp searching for him." Norm's voice echoed through the room a panicked undertone very present.

Your eyes shot open, the sun peeking through the blinds instantly blinding you. "Just a second Norm! Jeez!" You screamed.

For the first time since waking up you look around the room and feel the warm chest you are laying on, something still connecting the two of you. Your gaze locks with Neteyam's yellowish ones, your eyes widening.

"Jesus christ Y/n, just answer me." Norm said releasing a loud sigh as he knocked on the door again.

"No,oo he's uhh not here" You speak up as Neteyam's hand ran over your shoulder, your voice breaking slightly and tumbling over your words. A bit too pre ocupied with assessing the damage done to your poor now lopsided bed and yourself.

"Uhhm okay wel uhh if you find him send him to us" Norm said, obviously unsure of your answer.

"Will do!" You yell The pitch in your voice a bit too high to be natural. Norm either didn't notice or he just didn't want to deal with it, but you finally heard his footsteps walking away.

"Oh my god," you murmured putting your hands over your face. He nodded aswell. "Oh my god indeed" he murmured, having the gal to look more pleased than he did in weeks.

He was covered in orange and blue spots from both of your body paints, dark fingerprints set into his forearms from where you had held onto him... as he.... "Oh. my. God!" You murmured again.

He was examining you as his eyes slid over your figure without any shame, seeming bothered by the dark fingerprints covering your own softer body. "I hurt you" he muttered with a conflicted look on his face, carefully grasping your arm in his hands to observe the soft skin

Your skin almost burned at his touch, you softly pulling your arm from his grip. "It isn't your fault, you murmured softly. "Besides it seems i did a number on you as well" you gestured to his underarms.

Neteyam observed the bruises with facination, "You really held onto me tight." He murmured obviously reminicing, a distant look gleaming in his eyes.

You both heard distant chatter in the hall, being pulled out of your little bubble. You tried to sit up, failing immensely as your muscles ached and you came to a horrid realisation as he let out a groan.

"You are still..." you trailed off as you felt the weight of him sitting inside your stomach, every nerve on fire because of the beating from last night. His cock was still entirely burried into you.

"I'm sorry," Neteyam muttered as you felt his hips start to push up into you softly. He sat up slowly, seating himself against the wall again, you still stradling his hips. The movement send you up and down on his cock, sudden hot pleasure running through you.

His slow thrusting persisted, as your tired mind still tried to keep up with the situation. His eyes were searching your face for any discomfort, his own filled with lust. You placed your arms around his shoulders, your fingernails partly digging into his skin as you raked your hands across his shoulders.

He moaned loudly,

Rustling filled the hallway outside your room again, but Neteyam either didn't notice or didn't care. The voice of Norm echoeing through the room again, as you desperately hoped he didn't hear the squelching noises you were making.

"Y/n? They still haven't found Neteyam yet! Can you come to the avatar room in a second?" Norm yelled.

You took a second to gather yourself, Neteyam's intense gaze fixed on your face as you rode him. "Uhmm, yes Norm i'm just going to uhh take a s,shower and then i'll get over there" You finally responded.

"Uhhmm allright, i'll see you soon" he murmured before you heard his footsteps fade away again.

You and Neteyam rocked back and forth slowly, him going half out of you and then pushing back in. It was like a slow form of torture.

"Teyam? We need to figure out how we are going to hide this" you murmured. It was like he purposefully slammed himself back into you as you let out a broken moan.

He grasped onto your chin "First i will spill my seed into you one last time" he murmured with a teasing smirk. He didn't seem to be embarassed about their actions at all.

Rustling started up in the hall again, making Neteyam let out a sigh. "I'm taking you to the shower" he murmured as he took of his oxygen mask and lifted you up walking you over toward the small bathroom.

Neteyam barely fit through the door, but could thankfully stand up straight once inside. He didn't know how to work the buttons, so you reached out and set it to the right temperature.

He was still rutting into you softly whilst you waited for the water to warm, one of his fingers rubbing your clit gently. An orgasm beginning to build up steadily, you noticed him picking up the pace as well. Your back hitting the cold tile as his form pressed against you.

Your tired body cramped together one last time as you softly clenched and unclenched around his member. A shaky moan escaping your throat, legs shaking violently whilst his seed spilled into you again. Neteyam let out a deep groan at the sensation, burrying his face in your hair.

You both gathered yourself, Neteyam's wide eyed gaze looking toward the mirror. You turned your gaze toward it as well, gaping your mouth at the sight that awaited you.

You looked just as roughed up as him, paint everywhere and your makeup smeared across your face. But that wasn't why Neteyam looked so shook up. His huge form loomed over yours dauntingly, your body looking incredibly small next to his.

But mostly it was the sinfull sight of his arms around your waist, whilst you were stretched out to an extreme extend on his large member. It was a sight that shouldn't have been possible, but here you were anyway.

He turned back to you with an appraising look, "Look at you taking me." he mumbled before kissing your neck and pecking your mouth.

"You did so well." He cooed as he stepped into the shower, before finally sliding himself out of you. You let out a whine, at the feeling of both of your liquids pouring out of you. Neteyam seemed almost proud when he saw, placing you down on your feet with a look of discontentment of having to let you go.

Your knees buckled almost sending you to the ground. Your big blue guy luckily being able to steady you. "Are you allright?" he asked as he gave you a worried look. His arms instantly wrapped around you again, you noticing a little smile cricling his lips.

You nodded softly "I'm just really tired" allthough your body ached about everywhere. Not to mention the almost unbearable ache between your legs.

You finally sighed in contentment as you felt the warm water on your skin. Neteyam grabbed your bar of soap rubbing it between his hands before running them down your body without consulting.

You were too tired to even resist as he softly washed your skin. Running his fingers through your hair after, softly massaging your scalp. After he was finished he quickly lathered his own body with soap too.

"Wait shouldn't i help you too?" You asked confusedly.

He turned to you with a soft smile, "You have done more than enough for me" He softly brushed his palm over your cheek before leaning forward and giving you a gentle kiss.

After you both were finished in the shower you moved back to the bedroom, him dressing himself in his clothes from the night before and you quickly pulling on loose sweatpants and a long sleeved top.

You sat on the edge of the bed, him sitting next to you, "How in the hell are we going to hide this from your parents? Or, oh shit! What about Norm?" You groan loudly placing your head in your hands.

You felt Neteyam put his hand on your shoulder. "We'll think of something, for now I'm jumping out the window. And your going to the avatar room." He said sympathetically.

You let out a breath, "Yes.... yes good idea" you stood up carefully, the ache between your legs still very much present. You were about to head to the door when you felt yourself being pulled back and pressed into his stomach.

Neteyam's soft voice filled your ear "I see you" he said, his heavy gaze zet on your eyes. You took a second to process the words.

You blushed finally feeling the words tumble out your mouth "I see you." you finally whispered, a sense of love filling your stomach.

A huge smile spread on his face as he pulled you into one last kiss before placing his forehead on yours. "I shall see you tonight." he mumbled in your ear before he turned around for the window. You yourself leaving your room with shaky legs.

You caught your breath in the empty hallway, a boast of air leaving your lungs as you let out a loud sigh. "Well holy fuck,..." you muttered to yourself, before quickly stumbling toward the avatar room.

~~~

When you arrived in the large metal room, you were suprised to see Jake sitting together with Norm. Their eyes instantly turning to you as you came into view, "Y/n there you are!" Norm greeted as he gestured for you to sit next to him.

You awkwardly did, trying to hide the discomfort between your legs as you sat down. "Uhm Hello!" You said with a strained smile.

Jake and Norm were observing you silently and Jake in particulair was being incredibly intimidating whilst he stared you down.

Finally after a few agonising seconds Jake broke the silence, "So...this is the case," He said curtly "Neteyam didn't come home last night and the last person he was seen with was you."

They stared at you,

"So you want to know when i last saw him?" You murmered, hoping to give yourself a few more seconds of thinking time.

"Yes Y/n i want to know that."

"Well uhm... i saw him around the middle of the party?" You asked more than said, a sheepish expression on your face.

Jake sighed in annoyance, "And then?"

"Oh yes... okay... jep he left"?

"Y/n you better cut the crap"

You sighed "Okay well, we saw eachother around the middle of the party... and afterwards i haven't really seen him anymore... we took the skiretshe" You mumured softly, your mind finally giving you an excuse.

Jake let out a sigh, "And your one hundred percent sure you haven't seen him since?"

"Not in what i remember..." The implication obvious as you shrugged.

"We better find him soon." He gave you a warning look before he stalked off toward the door.

Norm gave you a dry look, "You are so weird today. We are going to talk about the drinking later." He murmured, before taking off as well, this a perfect time for you to rest your aching head on the cold metal table.

You would have to face the situation soon, you weren't ready at all.

(WELP that was VERY dirty, and i hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you want a part two, i usually only update fics that do well. (Maybe the next can be with some more sneaking around?) Hehe)

Part 2 made it through! Here's the link!:

#avatar x reader #Na'vi x reader #Neteyam x reader #Avatar #smut #Na'vi x human reader #avatar x human reader #avatar smut #size kink

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fruitcoops · 14 days ago

Text

Adrift

Day 9: completing the trifecta with Logan! Characters belong to @lumosinlove and header is from @noots-fic-fests, doing the lord's work of continuing the fest.

Yesterday's movie: The Prisoner of Azkaban (2004) with dear Moony.

The world was quiet and beautiful.

Logan let his eyes fall to slits. He was cool despite the sun blistering above him, blinding him and turning what little remained to splintered lens flares. The water lapped at his sides and crept along the webbing between his fingers. It was…light. All of it.

“Hey, you.” A new kind of light; a kiss to his forehead. “Thought I lost you for a sec.”

Logan smiled and rolled over, kicking his legs as he went until he was upright. Finn’s grin was crooked and sweet—he ducked quickly to spit a spout of water that made Logan grimace and splutter with a halfhearted splash his way.

“Knutty’s looking at the fish,” Finn said, as if he could read Logan’s mind. His pale shoulders flexed with a push of his arm through the crystalline water. Finn dipped back into the water, then shook his hair out, tipping his head to the side to clear his ear. Logan had watched him do that so many times. Hotel pools, the lake at home, just out of reach at the French seaside, beside Leo in New Orleans.

Logan slipped the bottom half of his face below the surface. Not salt water, though it smelled like the sea. The lake, then? He couldn’t see dry land over Finn’s shoulder.

“I like swimming with you,” Finn said, matter-of-fact.

Logan couldn’t help a surprised twitch of his eyebrows as he straightened. “Ouais?”

“Ways.” Finn laughed at the answering flick of water from Logan’s fingertips. It was the one he liked so much it used to scare him, the cackle-giggle Finn saved exclusively for his misbehavior.

Logan wasn’t scared now. Just in love. “I like swimming with you, too.”

“I know,” Finn sighed, paddling toward him. Logan treaded water absently. He didn’t need to focus much when Finn would be there to take his weight if he asked. A wet nose poked him on the cheek. “I think you just like me.”

“Maybe.”

“Uh-huh.”

Logan dragged the side of his cheek along Finn’s until his mouth could brush the edge of his smile. Denial was nothing to him anymore. “Yeah.”

“Oui, oui, Frenchie-French.”

“You’re getting better,” he mused.

Finn’s irises had gone coppery in the sun. “Lots of practice. Le’s bringing you shells.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s a secret, but you’re gonna need a bigger boat.” Finn widened his eyes playfully and pressed his index finger to his own lips. “Or pockets, I guess. Shh. Don’t tell.”

“Safe with me.”

“Always.”

Logan reached a leg down to tangle his ankle around Finn’s calf, tugging him closer. He hoped Finn was wearing his blue trunks. They were delightfully small, but they also made him look like creamy chocolate-chip ice cream waiting to be licked up, so. A fan favorite, to be sure. Logan wondered if he’d be allowed to slather the next round of sunscreen on those legs.

Finn’s nose scrunched when Logan reached out and pushed his hair off his forehead. Water dribbled down the planes of his face before vanishing in the lapping waves. “Your hands are cold.”

“Water.”

“Still cold.”

“Fine, I’ll stop messing with you then.”

“No, nope, nom nom nom.” Finn caught his wrist and pulled it back to rest on top of his head. The water bobbed around them.

Logan watched his face for a moment: the line of his nose, the rounds of his ears sticking out from dark auburn hair, the way the sea (or whatever it was) sparkled on his skin as it fell in rivulets down each angle. Finn watched him right back. It didn’t feel like being burned alive anymore. “Can we stay?”

Sympathy dimpled Finn’s cheeks. “No, baby.”

“I like it here.” He did. He liked it so much.

“I know.”

“Peanut’s bringing me shells.”

“You’re tired.”

Logan didn’t feel tired. He was wide awake and cool from the breeze. He couldn’t even feel the sun on his shoulders. “Am I?”

“Mhm. You and Le have been down in the basement all day, making sure the TV works for the party.”

Logan tilted his head, confused. “My grandmother doesn’t have a basement. Neither do Leo’s parents. You know that.”

Finn seemed unfazed, lost in trailing ripples in the water over Logan’s arms. “You work so hard,” he whispered, nuzzling up to Logan’s jaw with a smile he could hear. “Ease up. Go home.”

“I want to stay,” he protested.

Finn was close enough to kiss each cheekbone tenderly. A hello, but also a goodbye. “Go on. Leo’s calling.”

Finn was there when Logan pried his eyelids open to the hurried slaps of Leo’s hand. He was sound asleep, mumbling about birds. They were both dry. The ocean was nowhere to be found.

Lunettes. Leo was asking him about glasses. This close, he could see the cerulean clarity of Leo’s eyes. Logan pushed himself up onto one elbow. The shells were already fading from his mind.

#logan tremblay #finn o'hara #leo knut #cubs #o'knutzy #sweater weather #coast to coast #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fluff #swimming #fic o'ween 2024

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marksbear · 2 years ago

Note

Hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the BAU Team x Male reader who's also an agent, reader gets kidnapped by the unsub finding a thrill from the thought of breaking an FBI agent, the unsub changes up what he has been doing wanting this to be more "fun" (unsub SA & tortures reader)

Will the team find reader and the unsub? Will the unsub try and kill reader or keep him as a toy? You can choose all injuries I'm okay with anything from broken bones to missing limbs/eye

I was wondering if could get a lil Derek x male reader like they're really close like unrequited love, they like to tease and joke

Hi! I hope your having a good one as well! I took a lot of creative freedom with this one. Proably one of the darkest and longest fic I had wrote in a while tbh

Warnings! Blood, gore, killing, cannibalsim barely mention like gotta squint, breaking bones, punishment, SA, torture, burning, fire, stabbing, victm reader, revenge, reader goes a lil crazy the end. Twisted ending.

BAU X VICTIM MALE READER WHOS AN AGENT

And a lil of Derek Morgan x reader

It was a late night in the BAU. Most agents were tired only surviving on cups of coffee and energy drinks. One agent was bored and tired and even started to learn how to make origami out of sticky notes and paper

Deciding having enough Y/n tossed the origami swan on Reid's desk he had just got done finishing.

Y/n stands up from his desk before announcing.

“Okay i'm heading home guys! See you all later and goodnight!” Y/n says to the team as he makes sure he has everything to go home.

"Drive safe and make sure you grab something to eat on the way." Hotch says more like ordering him to do it. "Night Y/n!" Penelope says waving her friend bye.

"See ya Y/n. Don't miss me too much now!~" Morgan says with a wink as Y/n just rolls his eyes.

Spencer gives Y/n a small wave bye which Y/n smiles and waves bye back.

After gathering all his personal belongings Y/n gives the team one more goodbye wave before leaving the office.

TIMESKIP

Y/n was inside his car tapping his finger to the wheel to the beat of the music in his car. Stopping at the red light Y/n looks around looking at the nearby food places.

Originally Y/n wasn't going to eat anything, but he knew that Hotch would just call him later on and see what he had gotten to eat and would like to see proof.

After the light turned green Y/n drove his car to a fast food place going inside the drive thru.

The line was long and busy, but Y/n didn't mind. Once it was Y/n's turn to order he just ordered his usual and didn't try to make small talk like the worker tried.

Finally once it was Y/n's turn to pay Y/n rolled down his window meeting eyes with a man. The man had a beard with long slick back hair. The man looked like he worked out a ton.

"Late nights am I right." The man says after staring at Y/n's tired figure as he tried to make small talk once more.

"Yeah I guess." Y/n responded back dryly as he opened his wallet to pay.

"I feel ya. What's your job anyway?" The worker says as he reaches his hand out for Y/n's card.

"... Uhm i'm an agent." Y/n huffs out seeing there's no harm in telling him since it's highly unlikely he'll see him again. "A agent?! Like for the FBI?" The man breathes out.

Y/n nods his head yes before handing him card.

"That's so cool! I think about the FBI almost everyday! So it's like a dream come true to meet one in real life." The man says as he scans the card before handing it back to Y/n.

"Are you dating someone or--" The worker drags out watching Y/n's eyebrow raise.

Y/n thinks for a minute before a smirk grows on his lips. "Yeah i'm married." Y/n answers before taking his card back putting it inside his wallet.

"Ohh... Uhm what's their name?"

"Derek..." Y/n answers already thinking to tell Derek about this experince.

"He must be really lucky to be with an FBI agent."

Thankfully the car in front of Y/n moves forward as Y/n looks at the worker giving him a quick thanks before driving forward. The worker stares at Y/n's car for a while before leaving.

TIMESKIP

After getting his food Y/n drives home. The late night car ride was quiet just the way Y/n liked it. Nothing going on in his neighborhood. No parties, no one having loud sex just quiet and simple.

Finally making it home Y/n drives into his drive through parking the car and turning it off.

Y/n picks up the food and his work bags as he leaves the car closing it and locking it before walking to the porch.

Unlocking the front door Y/n goes inside his home.

Y/n puts his bags and stuff down by the front door before walking deeper inside the house going inside the living room turning on the TV and sits down on the couch.

Y/n kicks off his shoes and takes off his suit jacket without even bothering to wear some comfortable clothes.

As Y/n ate and watched TV tiredness became overwhelming to the agent as he began to doze off. Quickly finishing his food Y/n dozes off watching TV.

TIMESKIP

After a while Y/n could hear something opening. It was muffled and quiet. Y/n opened his eyes tiredly looking around. It was still dark outside and his TV was still on.

Hearing the noise becomes louder. It sounded like someone was struggling to get something opened outside.

Soon enough Y/n came to his senses and listened more carefully.

"Why won't this damn door open!"

Y/n heard the whispered shout perfectly. Y/n's body took control as his hand flew to the gun holster on his belt taking out his gun. Y/n thanked god for letting him be too tired to undress.

Y/n quietly moved around his house holding his gun tight. Y/n founded a spot to hide moving inside a shadow in his house that gave him a good view around the house.

Click

"Fuck me..." Y/n thought to himself remembering he left his phone inside the living room.

Listening to the foot steps inside the house Y/n held his breath getting ready to shoot and ask questions later.

"Mr FBI agent~ Where are you?"

From the no response the intruder stomps his foot to the ground getting angry.

"I don't like to be ignored! Where the fuck are you!" He shouts again.

Y/n knew he couldn't keep hiding forever, so he might as well try to fight. Y/n always wanted to die in something cool or at least self defense. Y/n quietly moved from his hiding spot.

Spotting the intruder in his bedroom Y/n aimed the gun at his head. Y/n thought for a minute before stalking up behind the man. Y/n strikes fast hitting the gun against the back of the mans skull.

The man almost fell from the pain and surprise, but nonetheless still stood his ground whipping his body around facing Y/n.

Y/n kicked the man in the stomach making him hunch down before hitting him again using the gun to hit him on the back of the head again taking the man down with ease.

The man lets out a loud groan in pain as he falls to the floor.

Making sure he doesn't think of trying anything Y/n stomped on the man's neck.

Out of nowhere hands grab Y/n's head covering his mouth with a cloth. Y/n tries to fight back even managing a few good hits on the person behind him. Y/n body collapses in the person's arms knocked out.

The person puts the cloth in his pocket before gently putting Y/n down on the bed. The person walks to the man on the floor rolling him onto his back before getting on top him choking him.

"You were supposed to distract him you idiot!" The person shouts as they use all their strength to strangle the person to death.

The man on the ground moves around gasping for air as his hands fly to the persons are trying to pull them off of them.

Squeezing their hands tighter the man on the floors grows limp.

Once the person makes sure the man is completetly dead they moves off of him and walks to Y/n.

The person carries Y/n over his shoulder as he picks up Y/n's gun from the floor leaving the house.

TIMESKIP

"The fuck..." Y/n thinks to himself as he tries to stretch, but sadly couldn't because of something cold and heavy holding his legs down.

Y/n looked around at the walls. The room walls were dark red and the bed was a queen sized one with candles around the room. The room had rose petals around the room some making heart shapes.

Y/n sat up in the bed looking around. Y/n tried to move down on the bed, but the collar chained to the wall behind him stops him.

The room was freezing cold and the candles didn't provide much heat. And it was even worse that Y/n was naked only the bed sheets covering his private part.

The door slowly opens.

The hallway was completely dark. It was hard to see anything in there. You couldn't even see the person who opened the door.

"Oh you're awake! Thank god I thought I killed you. That would be so bad for the both of us."

"God please don't tell me it's that weirdo." Y/n thinks to himself looking at the person walking inside the room.

It was the man from the drive through.

"You lied to me. You are not married." The man says crossing his arms.

"But you were honest about one thing. You are an FBI agent! I mean your Agent L/n I didn't know how I didn't recognize you! You were the agent who took down that famous school shooter. You were all over the news and you even got an award from the major that you turned down." He rants out going to the nearby dresser by the bed getting a newspaper flipping through the pages before showing it.

The newspaper had Y/n's face all over it.

"I can't believe my first victim is a real hero!.... But it still bothers me that you lied to me." The man says while putting the newspaper neatly back inside the dresser.

"We should have some rules." The man says while picking up one of the candles from the dresser. The man climbs onto the bed getting close with Y/n.

"Rule number one. Don't lie to me!" He shouts as he grabs Y/n's free arm burning him with the candle.

Y/n's body went into a fight or flight response closing his hand into a fist punching the man right in his jaw.

The man seemed unfazed to the punch only expression he showed was thrill.

"Rule number two. Don't even think about escaping... I own you Y/n, so don't even get any ideas." He whispers as he moves the candle by Y/n's neck burning him with the flame.

Y/n screams in pain as the fire burns his skin.

"Rule number three. You're not allowed to think let alone talk about someone who isn't me. I'm the only man in your life from now on forward. The only time someone else besides me would talk to you is when your buddies call your phone."

The man moves the candle away taking it to Y/n's inner thigh. Striking it on Y/n's thigh holding it there until the flame is put out.

Y/n screams in pain as he throws his head back. Y/n bit onto his lip trying to contain the noises as he realizes that showing pain will give the man pleasure.

The man throws the candle away as he stares at Y/n.

"Aww poor agent~ Your lip is bleeding. Here let me clean for you." The man takes Y/n jaw harshly yanking his head down. The man greedily licks away before kissing Y/n with all his mouth forcing his tongue inside.

The man's hands moves around Y/n's chest before going down lower and lower until he reaches Y/n's private area.

"I love how you're enjoying this!~" The man teases pulling away from the messy kiss.

As soon as the man pulls away Y/n headbutts him with all his might. The blood rushes out the nose.

"Ohh!~ You like it rough huh? You like it when we beat the living shit out each other your into that?" The man questions as he takes Y/n's private part inside his hand.

"Okay.... I can lean into that."

TIMESKIP

Ever since then it has been a constant torture from the man. The man was breaking the agent slowly.

It's been a full week since Y/n was at work. Y/n's family had told Hotch that Y/n was staying with them because of family problems.

But that couldn't be farther from the truth.

The once romantic beautiful bedroom had became dirty and disgusting. With blood mostly painting the walls. Some of it was Y/n, the unsub and completetly unknown blood c

Y/n was on the floor with one of his arms broke from the torture yesterday. The reason why he gotten punished because he broke rule number three.

Y/n laid on the floor in a puddle of his own tears with dried blood around his naked body staining his skin. Y/n's vision was blurry but he could see the unsub new victims huddle around him.

Even though he was unchained and free he was too weak for anything. His body was bruised and beaten badly as some of his bones had fractures.

Y/n’s more private areas were sticky and dirty. The agent wanted to cry and scream, but he couldn’t let the unsub win that easily.

"Y/n where are you going?"

"Y/n!"

The victims behind him call out, but Y/n just ignores them

Pulling his weak body up he slowly moves onto his feet trembling in pain. Y/n walks towards the door with a bad limp as his body feels overwhelming pain. Reaching for the door knob with his good hand Y/n opens the door as quietly as he can.

Y/n stared into the dark hallway before taking a deep breath walking out the bedroom.

WITH THE BAU

"Theres something up with Y/n."

Morgan announces as he sits down at his chair at the round table. The other agents at the table raise their eyebrows and look at Morgan with confusion.

"I'm guessing hes texting y'all and calling right. Theres something up and I know it." Derek adds crossing his arms.

"Y/n doesn't take pictures like that. He doesn't like styling his hair like that in the pictures. And he most definitely doesn't text dry and boring." Derek says as if he was stating facts.

"Maybe because he's with his family and all. It is scientifically proven that families do have a big interference in someones past, present and future lives." Reid blurts out as he turns to face Derek's worried and anxious face.

"I know, but something has to be wrong. It gotta be." Derek says before looking back at the case files that are currently on the table. "And I don't mean to sound crazy, but I just have this burning feeling." Derek adds.

BACK WITH Y/N

Walking on the cold wood floor felt so new to Y/n. He was so used to that bloody stained carpet in the bedroom he completely forgot what other material feels like.

Going deeper inside the dark hallway Y/n spots a dim light under what seems to be a door. Y/n slowly walked to the source looking under the door one last time before touching the door searching for the knob.

Y/n's fingers graze the cold door knob before opening it. Stepping forward Y/n walks inside the room shutting the door slowly behind him.

Muffled humming could be heard outside the room Y/n was currently inside. Y/n was inside another bedroom. Y/n looked around for a while before leaving searching for the target who is humming.

The unsub stood inside the kitchen cutting up what seems to be a leg turning the meat into tiny pieces before dropping it inside a soup bowl. The unsub snaps his head looking behind him as Y/n hides around the corner holding his mouth tight.

The unsub walks towards Y/n's direction before stopping in the doorway. The unsub stood in the middle of the doorway with Y/n on the wall holding his breath.

The unsub walks inside the bedroom looking around suspiciously. The unsub opens the door to the long dark hallway before walking inside shutting the door behind him before shouting "Y/n! I already told you to keep the noise down!"

Which heavily confused Y/n. But Y/n decided not to think too much of it and hopped over to the door locking it as he muttered a prayer about having a lock on it on the outside. Finally having some time to think Y/n looked around the bedroom in search of his phone or some clothes he could wear.

"Where the fuck is it." Y/n groans as he searches the bedroom.

Having no luck in finding it Y/n looks for some clothes he could wear. After finding some that kinda fitted him Y/n left the room.

Y/n went inside the bathroom looking for any medicine of some sort he can take or use. Finding nothing but empty pill bottles Y/n leave the bathroom before heading to the front door.

Ignoring all the pain inside Y/n's body Y/n opens the heavy door using all his strength. Finally opening it Y/n looks outside his way too freedom as a small smile crawls onto his lips.

But soon that smile slowly fades. Y/n felt empty. He felt that he was missing something that was satisfying. Taking a few steps back Y/n turns around marching towards the kitchen before picking up the very knife he man was just using.

Y/n stared into his own reflection at the bloody knife. In the clean part of the knife showed Y/n's dirty and bloody face, but on the other side of the knife that was stained with blood the reflection showed the unsub staring into the knife.

Lowering the knife Y/n gripped onto it hard as he walked back inside the house walking through it.

Finally reaching the door he had locked the unsub inside Y/n unlocks it slowly, but before he could open it the door swings open with the unsub pouncing on him screaming and shouting.

"How dare you try to outsmart me!"

The unsub presses hard against Y/n's broken arm causing the man to let out a scream. Using the hand that Y/n held the knife with he gave a quick stab in the rib cage causing the unsub to take some weight off the agent.

Taking the opportunity Y/n pushes the unsub off of him quickly crawling on top of him before stabbing him in the chest repeatedly.

Blood splatted everywhere staining the fresh clean clothes Y/n just found with blood.

Slowly growing tired of the stabbing Y/n stood up from the dead body picking up the man and dragging him back inside the long dark hallway. Y/n lays him down on the bed with the other dead bodies around it.

More and more alive agents on the ground screaming and crying in fear looking at Y/n.

"Why are you guys screaming and crying huh!?! I'm the one who had to kill the son of the bitch! He was the bad guy not me!" Y/n screamed at the people at the floor as he waved the knife around.

"I'm the hero of the story! I was the one who outsmarted him okay!" Y/n shouts as he points his knife at them.

"Do you wanna be next! Huh? That's what I thought so shut up!" Y/n shouts one last time before limping away. After Y/n leaves the dark hallway he slams the door shutting it leaving it unlocked for those who want to leave.

Finally feeling satisfied Y/n leaves the house bloody and all.

As Y/n walks through the neibhbord he watches cop cars pull up with their sirens blazing stepping out their cars barging inside the house.

THE END

#derek morgan #derek morgan x male reader #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x male reader #bau x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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